An old register was kept in the drawer of an old table, together with rusty iron and endless rubbish, by a parish clerk who was a poor labouring man. Another was said to be so old and "out of date" and so difficult to read by the parson and his neighbours, that it had been tossed about the church and finally carried off by children and torn to pieces. The leaves of an old parchment register were discovered sewed together as a covering for the tester of a bedstead, and the daughters of a parish clerk, who were lace-makers, cut up the pages of a register for a supply of parchment to make patterns for their lace manufacture. Two Leicestershire registers were rescued, one from the shop of a bookseller, the other from the corner cupboard of a blacksmith, where it had lain perishing and unheard of more than thirty years. The following extract from Notes and Queries tells of the sad fate of other books:—

"On visiting the village school of Colton it was discovered that the 'Psalters' of the children were covered with the leaves of the Parish Register; some of them were recovered, and replaced in the parish chest, but many were totally obliterated and cut away. This discovery led to further investigation, which brought to light a practice of the Parish Clerk and Schoolmaster of the day, who to certain 'goodies' of the village, gave the parchment leaves for hutkins for their knitting pins."

Still greater desecration has taken place. The registers of South Otterington, containing several entries of the great families of Talbot, Herbert, and Falconer, were kept in the cottage of the parish clerk, who used all those preceding the eighteenth century for waste paper, and devoted not a few to the utilitarian employment of singeing a goose. At Appledore the books were lost through having been kept in a public-house for the delectation of its frequenters.

But many parsons have kept their registers with consummate care. The name of the Rev. John Yate, rector of Rodmarton, Gloucestershire, in 1630, should be mentioned as a worthy and careful custodian on account of his quaint directions for the preservation of his registers. He wrote in the volume:—

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

Sometimes the parsons adorned their books with their poetical effusions either in Latin or English. Here are two examples, the first from Cherry Hinton, Cambridgeshire; the second from Ruyton, Salop:—

Hic puer aetatem, his Vir sponsalia noscat. Hic decessorum funera quisque sciat.

No Flatt'ry here, where to be born and die Of rich and poor is all the history. Enough, if virtue fill'd the space between, Prov'd, by the ends of being, to have been.

Bishop Kennet urged his clergy to enter in their registers not only every christening, wedding, or burial, which entries have proved some of the best helps for the preserving of history, but also any notable events that may have occurred in the parish or neighbourhood, such as "storms and lightning, contagion and mortality, droughts, scarcity, plenty, longevity, robbery, murders, or the like casualties. If such memorable things were fairly entered, your parish registers would become chronicles of many strange occurrences that would not otherwise be known and would be of great use and service for posterity to know."

The clergy have often acted upon this suggestion. In the registers of Cranbrook, Kent, we find a long account of the great plague that raged there in 1558, with certain moral reflections on the vice of "drunkeness which abounded here," on the base characters of the persons in whose houses the Plague began and ended, on the vehemence of the infection in "the Inns and Suckling houses of the town, places of much disorder," and tells how great dearth followed the Plague "with much wailing and sorrow," and how the judgment of God seemed but to harden the people in their sin.

The Eastwell register contains copies of the Protestation of 1642, the Vow and Covenant of 1643, and the Solemn League and Covenant of the same year, all signed by sundry parishioners, and of the death of the last of the Plantagenets, Richard by name, a bricklayer by trade, in 1550, whom Richard III acknowledged to be his son on the eve of the battle of Bosworth. At St. Oswalds, Durham, there is the record of the hanging and quartering in 1590 of "Duke, Hyll, Hogge and Holyday, iiij Semynaryes, Papysts, Tretors and Rebels for their horrible offences." "Burials, 1687 April 17th Georges Vilaus Lord dooke of bookingham," is the illiterate description of the Duke who was assassinated by Felton and buried at Helmsley. It is impossible to mention all the gleanings from parish registers; each parish tells its tale, its trades, its belief in witchcraft, its burials of soldiers killed in war, its stories of persecution, riot, sudden deaths, amazing virtues, and terrible sins. The edicts of the laws of England, wise and foolish, are reflected in these pages, e.g. the enforced burial in woollen; the relatives of those who desired to be buried in linen were obliged to pay fifty shillings to the informer and the same sum to the poor of the parish. The tax on marriages, births, and burials, levied by the Government on the estates of gentlemen in 1693, is also recorded in such entries as the following:—

"1700. Mr. Thomas Cullum buried 27 Dec. As the said Mr. Cullum was a gentleman, there is 24s. to be paid for his buriall." The practice of heart-burial is also frequently demonstrated in our books. Extraordinary superstitions and strong beliefs, the use of talismans, amulets, and charms, astrological observations, the black art, scandals, barbarous punishments, weird customs that prevailed at man's most important ceremonies, his baptism, marriage and burial, the binding of apprenticeships, obsolete trades, such as that of the person who is styled "aquavity man" or the "saltpetre man," the mode of settling quarrels and disputes, duels, sports, games, brawls, the expenses of supplying a queen's household, local customs and observances—all these find a place in these amazing records. In short, there is scarcely any feature of the social life of our forefathers which is not abundantly set forth in our parish registers. The loss of them would indeed be great and overwhelming.

As we have said, many of them have been lost by fire and other casualties, by neglect and carelessness. The guarding of the safety of those that remain is an anxious problem. Many of us would regret to part with our registers and to allow them to leave the church or town or village wherein they have reposed so long. They are part of the story of the place, and when American ladies and gentlemen come to find traces of their ancestors they love to see these records in the village where their forefathers lived, and to carry away with them a photograph of the church, some ivy from the tower, some flowers from the rectory garden, to preserve in their western homes as memorials of the place whence their family came. It would not be the same thing if they were to be referred to a dusty office in a distant town. Some wise people say that all registers should be sent to London, to the Record Office or the British Museum. That would be an impossibility. The officials of those institutions would tremble at the thought, and the glut of valuable books would make reference a toil that few could undertake. The real solution of the difficulty is that county councils should provide accommodation for all deeds and documents, that all registers should be transcribed, that copies should be deposited in the county council depository, and that the originals should still remain in the parish chest where they have lain for three centuries and a half.



CHAPTER XVIII

OLD CUSTOMS THAT ARE VANISHING

Many writers have mourned over the decay of our ancient customs which the restlessness of modern life has effectually killed. New manners are ever pushing out the old, and the lover of antiquity may perhaps be pardoned if he prefers the more ancient modes. The death of the old social customs which added such diversity to the lives of our forefathers tends to render the countryman's life one continuous round of labour unrelieved by pleasant pastime, and if innocent pleasures are not indulged in, the tendency is to seek for gratification in amusements that are not innocent or wholesome.

The causes of the decline and fall of many old customs are not far to seek. Agricultural depression has killed many. The deserted farmsteads no longer echo with the sounds of rural revelry; the cheerful log-fires no longer glow in the farmer's kitchen; the harvest-home song has died away; and "largess" no longer rewards the mummers and the morris-dancers. Moreover, the labourer himself has changed; he has lost his simplicity. His lot is far better than it was half a century ago, and he no longer takes pleasure in the simple joys that delighted his ancestors in days of yore. Railways and cheap excursions have made him despise the old games and pastimes which once pleased his unenlightened soul. The old labourer is dead, and his successor is a very "up-to-date" person, who reads the newspapers and has his ideas upon politics and social questions that would have startled his less cultivated sire. The modern system of elementary education also has much to do with the decay of old customs.

Still we have some left. We can only here record a few that survive. Some years ago I wrote a volume on the subject, and searched diligently to find existing customs in the remote corners of old England.[61] My book proved useful to Sir Benjamin Stone, M.P., the expert photographer of the House of Commons, who went about with his camera to many of the places indicated, and by his art produced permanent presentments of the scenes which I had tried to describe. He was only just in time, as doubtless many of these customs will soon pass away. It is, however, surprising to find how much has been left; how tenaciously the English race clings to that which habit and usage have established; how deeply rooted they are in the affections of the people. It is really remarkable that at the present day, in spite of ages of education and social enlightenment, in spite of centuries of Christian teaching and practice, we have now amongst us many customs which owe their origin to pagan beliefs and the superstitions of our heathen forefathers, and have no other raison d'etre for their existence than the wild legends of Scandinavian mythology.

[61] Old English Customs Extant at the Present Time (Methuen and Co.).

We have still our Berkshire mummers at Christmas, who come to us disguised in strange garb and begin their quaint performance with the doggerel rhymes—

I am King George, that noble champion bold, And with my trusty sword I won ten thousand pounds in gold; 'Twas I that fought the fiery dragon, and brought him to the slaughter, And by these means I won the King of Egypt's daughter.[62]

[62] The book of words is printed in Old English Customs, by P.H. Ditchfield.

Other counties have their own versions. In Staffordshire they are known as the "Guisers," in Cornwall as the "Geese-dancers," in Sussex as the "Tipteerers." Carolsingers are still with us, but often instead of the old carols they sing very badly and irreverently modern hymns, though in Cambridgeshire you may still hear "God bless you, merry gentlemen," and the vessel-boxes (a corruption of wassail) are still carried round in Yorkshire. At Christmas Cornish folk eat giblet-pie, and Yorkshiremen enjoy furmenty; and mistletoe and the kissing-bush are still hung in the hall; and in some remote parts of Cornwall children may be seen dancing round painted lighted candles placed in a box of sand. The devil's passing-bell tolls on Christmas Eve from the church tower at Dewsbury, and a muffled peal bewails the slaughter of the children on Holy Innocents' Day. The boar's head is still brought in triumph into the hall of Queen's College. Old women "go a-gooding" or mumping on St. Thomas's Day, and "hoodening" or horse-head mumming is practised at Walmer, and bull-hoodening prevails at Kingscote, in Gloucestershire. The ancient custom of "goodening" still obtains at Braughing, Herts. The Hertfordshire Mercury of December 28, 1907, states that on St. Thomas's Day (December 21) certain of the more sturdy widows of the village went round "goodening," and collected L4 14s. 6d., which was equally divided among the eighteen needy widows of the parish. In 1899 the oldest dame who took part in the ceremony was aged ninety-three, while in 1904 a widow "goodened" for the thirtieth year in succession. In the Herts and Cambs Reporter for December 23, 1904, is an account of "Gooding Day" at Gamlingay. It appears that in 1665 some almshouses for aged women (widows) were built there by Sir John Jacob, Knight. "On Wednesday last (St. Thomas's Day)," says this journal, "an interesting ceremony was to be seen. The old women were gathered at the central doorway ... preparatory to a pilgrimage to collect alms at the houses of the leading inhabitants. This old custom, which has been observed for nearly three hundred years, it is safe to say, will not fall into desuetude, for it usually results in each poor widow realising a gold coin." In the north of England first-footing on New Year's Eve is common, and a dark-complexioned person is esteemed as a herald of good fortune. Wassailing exists in Lancashire, and the apple-wassailing has not quite died out on Twelfth Night. Plough Monday is still observed in Cambridgeshire, and the "plough-bullocks" drag around the parishes their ploughs and perform a weird play. The Haxey hood is still thrown at that place in Lincolnshire on the Feast of the Epiphany, and valentines are not quite forgotten by rural lovers.

Shrovetide is associated with pancakes. The pancake bell is still rung in many places, and for some occult reason it is the season for some wild football games in the streets and lanes of several towns and villages. At St. Ives on the Monday there is a grand hurling match, which resembles a Rugby football contest without the kicking of the ball, which is about the size of a cricket-ball, made of cork or light wood. At Ashbourne on Shrove-Tuesday thousands join in the game, the origin of which is lost in the mists of antiquity. As the old church clock strikes two a little speech is made, the National Anthem sung, and then some popular devotee of the game is hoisted on the shoulders of excited players and throws up the ball. "She's up," is the cry, and then the wild contest begins, which lasts often till nightfall. Several efforts have been made to stop the game, and even the judge of the Court of Queen's Bench had to decide whether it was legal to play the game in the streets. In spite of some opposition it still flourishes, and is likely to do so for many a long year. Sedgefield, Chester-le-Street, Alnwick, Dorking also have their famous football fights, which differ much from an ordinary league match. In the latter thousands look on while twenty-two men show their skill. In these old games all who wish take part in them, all are keen champions and know nothing of professionalism.

"Ycleping," or, as it is now called, clipping churches, is another Shrovetide custom, when the children join hands round the church and walk round it. It has just been revived at Painswick, in the Cotswolds, where after being performed for many hundred years it was discontinued by the late vicar. On the patron saint's day (St. Mary's) the children join hands in a ring round the church and circle round the building singing. It is the old Saxon custom of "ycleping," or naming the church on the anniversary of its original dedication.

Simnels on Mothering Sunday still exist, reminding us of Herrick's lines:—

I'll to thee a Simnel bring, 'Gainst thou goes a mothering; So that when she blesseth thee Half the blessing thou'lt give me.

Palm Sunday brings some curious customs. At Roundway Hill, and at Martinsall, near Marlborough, the people bear "palms," or branches of willow and hazel, and the boys play a curious game of knocking a ball with hockey-sticks up the hill; and in Buckinghamshire it is called Fig Sunday, and also in Hertfordshire. Hertford, Kempton, Edlesborough, Dunstable are homes of the custom, nor is the practice of eating figs and figpies unknown in Bedfordshire, Northamptonshire, Oxfordshire, Wilts, and North Wales. Possibly the custom is connected with the withering of the barren fig-tree.

Good Friday brings hot-cross-buns with the well-known rhyme. Skipping on that day at Brighton is, I expect, now extinct. Sussex boys play marbles, Guildford folk climb St. Martha's Hill, and poor widows pick up six-pences from a tomb in the churchyard of St. Bartholomew the Great, London, on the same Holy Day.

Easter brings its Pace eggs, symbols of the Resurrection, and Yorkshire children roll them against one another in fields and gardens. The Biddenham cakes are distributed, and the Hallaton hare-scramble and bottle-kicking provide a rough scramble and a curious festival for Easter Monday. On St. Mark's Day the ghosts of all who will die during the year in the villages of Yorkshire pass at midnight before the waiting people, and Hock-tide brings its quaint diversions to the little Berkshire town of Hungerford.

The diversions of May Day are too numerous to be chronicled here, and I must refer the reader to my book for a full description of the sports that usher in the spring; but we must not forget the remarkable Furry Dance at Helston on May 8th, and the beating of the bounds of many a township during Rogation Week. Our boys still wear oak-leaves on Royal Oak Day, and the Durham Cathedral choir sing anthems on the top of the tower in memory of the battle of Neville's Cross, fought so long ago as the year 1346.

Club-feasts and morris-dancers delight the rustics at Whitsuntide, and the wakes are well kept up in the north of England, and rush-beating at Ambleside, and hay-strewing customs in Leicestershire. The horn dance at Abbot Bromley is a remarkable survival. The fires on Midsummer Eve are still lighted in a few places in Wales, but are fast dying out. Ratby, in Leicestershire, is a home of old customs, and has an annual feast, when the toast of the immortal memory of John of Gaunt is drunk with due solemnity. Harvest customs were formerly very numerous, but are fast dying out before the reaping-machines and agricultural depression. The "kern-baby" has been dead some years.

Bonfire night and the commemoration of the discovery of Gunpowder Plot and the burning of "guys" are still kept up merrily, but few know the origin of the festivities or concern themselves about it. Soul cakes and souling still linger on in Cheshire, and cattering and clemmening on the feasts of St. Catherine and St. Clement are still observed in East Sussex.

Very remarkable are the local customs which linger on in some of our towns and villages and are not confined to any special day in the year. Thus, at Abbots Ann, near Andover, the good people hang up effigies of arms and hands in memory of girls who died unmarried, and gloves and garlands of roses are sometimes hung for the same purpose. The Dunmow Flitch is a well-known matrimonial prize for happy couples who have never quarrelled during the first year of their wedded life; while a Skimmerton expresses popular indignation against quarrelsome or licentious husbands and wives.

Many folk-customs linger around wells and springs, the haunts of nymphs and sylvan deities who must be propitiated by votive offerings and are revengeful when neglected. Pins, nails, and rags are still offered, and the custom of "well-dressing," shorn of its pagan associations and adapted to Christian usage, exists in all its glory at Tissington, Youlgrave, Derby, and several other places.

The three great events of human life—birth, marriage, and death—have naturally drawn around them some of the most curious beliefs. These are too numerous to be recorded here, and I must again refer the curious reader to my book on old-time customs. We should like to dwell upon the most remarkable of the customs that prevail in the City of London, in the halls of the Livery Companies, as well as in some of the ancient boroughs of England, but this record would require too large a space. Bell-ringing customs attract attention. The curfew-bell still rings in many towers; the harvest-bell, the gleaning-bell, the pancake-bell, the "spur-peal," the eight-hours' bell, and sundry others send out their pleasing notice to the world. At Aldermaston land is let by means of a lighted candle. A pin is placed through the candle, and the last bid that is made before that pin drops out is the occupier of the land for a year. The Church Acre at Chedzoy is let in a similar manner, and also at Todworth, Warton, and other places. Wiping the shoes of those who visit a market for the first time is practised at Brixham, and after that little ceremony they have to "pay their footing." At St. Ives raffling for Bibles continues, according to the will of Dr. Wilde in 1675, and in church twelve children cast dice for six Bibles. Court, Bar, and Parliament have each their peculiar customs which it would be interesting to note, if space permitted; and we should like to record the curious bequests, doles, and charities which display the eccentricities of human nature and the strange tenures of land which have now fallen into disuse.

It is to be hoped that those who are in a position to preserve any existing custom in their own neighbourhood will do their utmost to prevent its decay. Popular customs are a heritage which has been bequeathed to us from a remote past, and it is our duty to hand down that heritage to future generations of English folk.



CHAPTER XIX

THE VANISHING OF ENGLISH SCENERY AND NATURAL BEAUTY

Not the least distressing of the losses which we have to mourn is the damage that has been done to the beauty of our English landscapes and the destruction of many scenes of sylvan loveliness. The population of our large towns continues to increase owing to the insensate folly that causes the rural exodus. People imagine that the streets of towns are paved with gold, and forsake the green fields for a crowded slum, and after many vicissitudes and much hardship wish themselves back again in their once despised village home. I was lecturing to a crowd of East End Londoners at Toynbee Hall on village life in ancient and modern times, and showed them views of the old village street, the cottages, manor-houses, water-mills, and all the charms of rural England, and after the lecture I talked with many of the men who remembered their country homes which they had left in the days of their youth, and they all wished to go back there again, if only they could find work and had not lost the power of doing it. But the rural exodus continues. Towns increase rapidly, and cottages have to be found for these teeming multitudes. Many a rural glade and stretch of woodland have to be sacrificed, and soon streets are formed and rows of unsightly cottages spring up like magic, with walls terribly thin, that can scarcely stop the keenness of the wintry blasts, so thin that each neighbour can hear your conversation, and if a man has a few words with his wife all the inhabitants of the row can hear him.

Garden cities have arisen as a remedy for this evil, carefully planned dwelling-places wherein some thought is given to beauty and picturesque surroundings, to plots for gardens, and to the comfort of the fortunate citizens. But some garden cities are garden only in name. Cheap villas surrounded by unsightly fields that have been spoilt and robbed of all beauty, with here and there unsightly heaps of rubbish and refuse, only delude themselves and other people by calling themselves garden cities. Too often there is no attempt at beauty. Cheapness and speedy construction are all that their makers strive for.

These growing cities, ever increasing, ever enclosing fresh victims in their hideous maw, work other ills. They require much food, and they need water. Water must be found and conveyed to them. This has been no easy task for many corporations. For many years the city of Liverpool drew its supply from Rivington, a range of hills near Bolton-le-Moors, where there were lakes and where they could construct others. Little harm was done there; but the city grew and the supply was insufficient. Other sources had to be found and tapped. They found one in Wales. Their eyes fell on the Lake Vyrnwy, and believed that they found what they sought. But that, too, could not supply the millions of gallons that Liverpool needed. They found that the whole vale of Llanwddyn must be embraced. A gigantic dam must be made at the lower end of the valley, and the whole vale converted into one great lake. But there were villages in the vale, rural homes and habitations, churches and chapels, and over five hundred people who lived therein and must be turned out. And now the whole valley is a lake. Homes and churches lie beneath the waves, and the graves of the "women that sleep," of the rude forefathers of the hamlet, of bairns and dear ones are overwhelmed by the pitiless waters. It is all very deplorable.

And now it seems that the same thing must take place again: but this time it is an English valley that is concerned, and the people are the country folk of North Hampshire. There is a beautiful valley not far from Kingsclere and Newbury, surrounded by lovely hills covered with woodland. In this valley in a quiet little village appropriately called Woodlands, formed about half a century ago out of the large parish of Kingsclere, there is a little hamlet named Ashford Hill, the modern church of St. Paul, Woodlands, pretty cottages with pleasant gardens, a village inn, and a dissenting chapel. The churchyard is full of graves, and a cemetery has been lately added. This pretty valley with its homes and church and chapel is a doomed valley. In a few years time if a former resident returns home from Australia or America to his native village he will find his old cottage gone from the light of the sun and buried beneath the still waters of a huge lake. It is almost certain that such will be the case with this secluded rural scene. The eyes of Londoners have turned upon the doomed valley. They need water, and water must somehow be procured. The great city has no pity. The church and the village will have to be removed. It is all very sad. As a writer in a London paper says: "Under the best of conditions it is impossible to think of such an eviction without sympathy for the grief that it must surely cause to some. The younger residents may contemplate it cheerfully enough; but for the elder folk, who have spent lives of sunshine and shade, toil, sorrow, joy, in this peaceful vale, it must needs be that the removal will bring a regret not to be lightly uttered in words. The soul of man clings to the localities that he has known and loved; perhaps, as in Wales, there will be some broken hearts when the water flows in upon the scenes where men and women have met and loved and wedded, where children have been born, where the beloved dead have been laid to rest."

The old forests are not safe. The Act of 1851 caused the destruction of miles of beautiful landscape. Peacock, in his story of Gryll Grange, makes the announcement that the New Forest is now enclosed, and that he proposes never to visit it again. Twenty-five years of ruthless devastation followed the passing of that Act. The deer disappeared. Stretches of open beechwood and green lawns broken by thickets of ancient thorn and holly vanished under the official axe. Woods and lawns were cleared and replaced by miles and miles of rectangular fir plantations. The Act of 1876 with regard to forest land came late, but it, happily, saved some spots of sylvan beauty. Under the Act of 1851 all that was ancient and delightful to the eye would have been levelled, or hidden in fir-wood. The later Act stopped this wholesale destruction. We have still some lofty woods, still some scenery that shows how England looked when it was a land of blowing woodland. The New Forest is maimed and scarred, but what is left is precious and unique. It is primeval forest land, nearly all that remains in the country. Are these treasures safe? Under the Act of 1876 managers are told to consider beauty as well as profit, and to abstain from destroying ancient trees; but much is left to the decision and to the judgment of officials, and they are not always to be depended on.

After having been threatened with demolition for a number of years, the famous Winchmore Hill Woods are at last to be hewn down and the land is to be built upon. These woods, which it was Hood's and Charles Lamb's delight to stroll in, have become the property of a syndicate, which will issue a prospectus shortly, and many of the fine old oaks, beeches, and elms already bear the splash of white which marks them for the axe. The woods have been one of the greatest attractions in the neighbourhood, and public opinion is strongly against the demolition.

One of the greatest services which the National Trust is doing for the country is the preserving of the natural beauties of our English scenery. It acquires, through the generosity of its supporters, special tracts of lovely country, and says to the speculative builder "Avaunt!" It maintains the landscape for the benefit of the public. People can always go there and enjoy the scenery, and townsfolk can fill their lungs with fresh air, and children play on the greensward. These oases afford sanctuary to birds and beasts and butterflies, and are of immense value to botanists and entomologists. Several properties in the Lake District have come under the aegis of the Trust. Seven hundred and fifty acres around Ullswater have been purchased, including Gowbarrow Fell and Aira Force. By this, visitors to the English lakes can have unrestrained access over the heights of Gowbarrow Fell, through the glen of Aira and along a mile of Ullswater shore, and obtain some of the loveliest views in the district. It is possible to trespass in the region of the lakes. It is possible to wander over hills and through dales, but private owners do not like trespassers, and it is not pleasant to be turned back by some officious servant. Moreover, it needs much impudence and daring to traverse without leave another man's land, though it be bare and barren as a northern hill. The Trust invites you to come, and you are at peace, and know that no man will stop you if you walk over its preserves. Moreover, it holds a delectable bit of country on Lake Derwentwater, known as the Brandlehow Park Estate. It extends for about a mile along the shore of the lake and reaches up the fell-side to the unenclosed common on Catbels. It is a lovely bit of woodland scenery. Below the lake glistens in the sunlight and far away the giant hills Blencatha, Skiddaw, and Borrowdale rear their heads. It cost the Trust L7000, but no one would deem the money ill-spent. Almost the last remnant of the primeval fenland of East Anglia, called Wicken Fen, has been acquired by the Trust, and also Burwell Fen, the home of many rare insects and plants. Near London we see many bits of picturesque land that have been rescued, where the teeming population of the great city can find rest and recreation. Thus at Hindhead, where it has been said villas seem to have broken out upon the once majestic hill like a red skin eruption, the Hindhead Preservation Committee and the Trust have secured 750 acres of common land on the summit of the hill, including the Devil's Punch Bowl, a bright oasis amid the dreary desert of villas. Moreover, the Trust is waging a battle with the District Council of Hambledon in order to prevent the Hindhead Commons from being disfigured by digging for stone for mending roads, causing unsightliness and the sad disfiguring of the commons. May it succeed in its praiseworthy endeavour. At Toy's Hill, on a Kentish hillside, overlooking the Weald, some valuable land has been acquired, and part of Wandle Park, Wimbledon, containing the Merton Mill Pond and its banks, adjoining the Recreation Ground recently provided by the Wimbledon Corporation, is now in the possession of the Trust. It is intended for the quiet enjoyment of rustic scenery by the people who live in the densely populated area of mean streets of Merton and Morden, and not for the lovers of the more strenuous forms of recreation. Ide Hill and Crockham Hill, the properties of the Trust, can easily be reached by the dwellers in London streets.

We may journey in several directions and find traces of the good work of the Trust. At Barmouth a beautiful cliff known as Dinas-o-lea, Llanlleiana Head, Anglesey, the fifteen acres of cliff land at Tintagel, called Barras Head, looking on to the magnificent pile of rocks on which stand the ruins of King Arthur's Castle, and the summit of Kymin, near Monmouth, whence you can see a charming view of the Wye Valley, are all owned and protected by the Trust. Every one knows the curious appearance of Sarsen stones, often called Grey Wethers from their likeness to a flock of sheep lying down amidst the long grass of a Berkshire or Wiltshire down. These stones are often useful for building purposes and for road-mending. There is a fine collection of these curious stones, which were used in prehistoric times for building Stonehenge, at Pickle Dean and Lockeridge Dean. These are adjacent to high roads and would soon have fallen a prey to the road surveyor or local builder. Hence the authorities of this Trust stepped in; they secured for the nation these characteristic examples of a unique geological phenomenon, and preserved for all time a curious and picturesque feature of the country traversed by the old Bath Road. All that the Trust requires is "more force to its elbow," increased funds for the preservation of the natural beauty of our English scenery, and the increased appreciation on the part of the public and of the owners of unspoilt rural scenes to extend its good work throughout the counties of England.

A curious feature of vanished or vanishing England is the decay of our canals, which here and there with their unused locks, broken towpaths, and stagnant waters covered with weeds form a pathetic and melancholy part of the landscape. If you look at the map of England you will see, besides the blue curvings that mark the rivers, other threads of blue that show the canals. Much was expected of them. They were built just before the railway era. The whole country was covered by a network of canals. Millions were spent upon their construction. For a brief space they were prosperous. Some places, like our Berkshire Newbury, became the centres of considerable traffic and had little harbours filled with barges. Barge-building was a profitable industry. Fly-boats sped along the surface of the canals conveying passengers to towns or watering-places, and the company were very bright and enjoyed themselves. But all are dead highways now, strangled by steam and by the railways. The promoters of canals opposed the railways with might and main, and tried to protect their properties. Hence the railways were obliged to buy them up, and then left them lone and neglected. The change was tragic. You can, even now, travel all over the country by the means of these silent waterways. You start from London along the Regent's Canal, which joins the Grand Junction Canal, and this spreads forth northwards and joins other canals that ramify to the Wash, to Manchester and Liverpool and Leeds. You can go to every great town in England as far as York if you have patience and endless time. There are four thousand miles of canals in England. They were not well constructed; we built them just as we do many other things, without any regular system, with no uniform depth or width or carrying capacity, or size of locks or height of bridges. Canals bearing barges of forty tons connect with those capable of bearing ninety tons. And now most of them are derelict, with dilapidated banks, foul bottoms, and shallow horse haulage. The bargemen have taken to other callings, but occasionally you may see a barge looking gay and bright drawn by an unconcerned horse on the towpath, with a man lazily smoking his pipe at the helm and his family of water gipsies, who pass an open-air, nomadic existence, tranquil, and entirely innocent of schooling. He is a survival of an almost vanished race which the railways have caused to disappear.

Much destruction of beautiful scenery is, alas! inevitable. Trade and commerce, mills and factories, must work their wicked will on the landscapes of our country. Mr. Ruskin's experiment on the painting of Turner, quoted in our opening chapter, finds its realisation in many places. There was a time, I suppose, when the Mersey was a pure river that laved the banks carpeted with foliage and primroses on which the old Collegiate Church of Manchester reared its tower. It is now, and has been for years, an inky-black stream or drain running between stone walls, where it does not hide its foul waters for very shame beneath an arched culvert. There was a time when many a Yorkshire village basked in the sunlight. Now they are great overgrown towns usually enveloped in black smoke. The only day when you can see the few surviving beauties of a northern manufacturing town or village is Sunday, when the tall factory chimneys cease to vomit their clouds of smoke which kills the trees, or covers the struggling leaves with black soot. We pay dearly for our commercial progress in this sacrifice of Nature's beauties.



CHAPTER XX

CONCLUSION

Whatever method can be devised for the prevention of the vanishing of England's chief characteristics are worthy of consideration. First there must be the continued education of the English people in the appreciation of ancient buildings and other relics of antiquity. We must learn to love them, or we shall not care to preserve them. An ignorant squire or foolish landowner may destroy in a day some priceless object of antiquity which can never be replaced. Too often it is the agent who is to blame. Squires are very much in the hands of their agents, and leave much to them to decide and carry out. When consulted they do not take the trouble to inspect the threatened building, and merely confirm the suggestions of the agents. Estate agents, above all people, need education in order that the destruction of much that is precious may be averted.

The Government has done well in appointing commissions for England, Scotland, and Wales to inquire into and report on the condition of ancient monuments, but we lag behind many other countries in the task of protecting and preserving the memorials of the past.

In France national monuments of historic or artistic interest are scheduled under the direction of the Minister of Public Instruction and Fine Arts. In cases in which a monument is owned by a private individual, it usually may not be scheduled without the consent of the owner, but if his consent is withheld the State Minister is empowered to purchase compulsorily. No monument so scheduled may be destroyed or subjected to works of restoration, repair, or alteration without the consent of the Minister, nor may new buildings be annexed to it without permission from the same quarter. Generally speaking, the Minister is advised by a commission of historical monuments, consisting of leading officials connected with fine arts, public buildings, and museums. Such a commission has existed since 1837, and very considerable sums of public money have been set apart to enable it to carry on its work. In 1879 a classification of some 2500 national monuments was made, and this classification has been adopted in the present law. It includes megalithic remains, classical remains, and medieval, Renaissance, and modern buildings and ruins.[63]

[63] A paper read by Mr. Nigel Bond, Secretary of the National Trust, at a meeting of the Dorset Natural History and Antiquarian Field Club, to which paper the writer is indebted for the subsequent account of the proceeding's of foreign governments with regard to the preservation of their ancient monuments.

We do not suggest that in England we should imitate the very drastic restorations to which some of the French abbeys and historic buildings are subjected. The authorities have erred greatly in destroying so much original work and their restorations, as in the case of Mont St. Michel, have been practically a rebuilding.

The Belgian people appear to have realized for a very long time the importance of preserving their historic and artistic treasures. By a royal decree of 1824 bodies in charge of church temporalities are reminded that they are managers merely, and while they are urged to undertake in good time the simple repairs that are needed for the preservation of the buildings in their charge, they are strictly forbidden to demolish any ecclesiastical building without authority from the Ministry which deals with the subject of the fine arts. By the same decree they are likewise forbidden to alienate works of art or historical monuments placed in churches. Nine years later, in 1835, in view of the importance of assuring the preservation of all national monuments remarkable for their antiquity, their association, or their artistic value, another decree was issued constituting a Royal Commission for the purpose of advising as to the repairs required by such monuments. Nearly 200,000 francs are annually voted for expenditure for these purposes. The strict application of these precautionary measures has allowed a number of monuments of the highest interest in their relation to art and archaeology to be protected and defended, but it does not appear that the Government controls in any way those monuments which are in the hands of private persons.[64]

[64] Ibid.

In Holland public money to the extent of five or six thousand pounds a year is spent on preserving and maintaining national monuments and buildings of antiquarian and architectural interest. In Germany steps are being taken which we might follow with advantage in this country, to control and limit the disfigurement of landscapes by advertisement hoardings.

A passage from the ministerial order of 1884 with reference to the restoration of churches may be justly quoted:—

"If the restoration of a public building is to be completely successful, it is absolutely essential that the person who directs it should combine with an enlightened aesthetic sense an artistic capacity in a high degree, and, moreover, be deeply imbued with feelings of veneration for all that has come down to us from ancient times. If a restoration is carried out without any real comprehension of the laws of architecture, the result can only be a production of common and dreary artificiality, recognizable perhaps as belonging to one of the architectural styles, but wanting the stamp of true art, and, therefore, incapable of awakening the enthusiasm of the spectator."

And again:—

"In consequence of the removal or disfigurement of monuments which have been erected during the course of centuries—monuments which served, as it were, as documents of the historical development of past periods of culture, which have, moreover, a double interest and value if left undisturbed on the spot where they were originally erected—the sympathy of congregations with the history of their church is diminished, and, a still more lamentable consequence, a number of objects of priceless artistic value destroyed or squandered, whereby the property of the church suffers a serious loss."

How much richer might we be here in England if only our central authorities had in the past circulated these admirable doctrines!

Very wisely has the Danish Government prohibited the removal of stones from monuments of historic interest for utilitarian purposes, such as is causing the rapid disappearance of the remains on Dartmoor in this country; and the Greeks have stringent regulations to ensure the preservation of antiquities, which are regarded as national property, and may on no account be damaged either by owner or lessee. It has actually been found necessary to forbid the construction of limekilns nearer than two miles from any ancient ruins, in order to remove the temptation for the filching of stones. In Italy there are stringent laws for the protection of historical and ancient monuments. Road-mending is a cause of much destruction of antiquarian objects in all countries, even in Italy, where the law has been invoked to protect ancient monuments from the highway authorities.

We need not record the legal enactments of other Governments, so admirably summarized by Mr. Bond in his paper read before the Dorset Natural History and Antiquarian Field Club. We see what other countries much poorer than our own are doing to protect their national treasures, and though the English Government has been slow in realizing the importance of the ancient monuments of this country, we believe that it is inclined to move in the right direction, and to do its utmost to preserve those that have hitherto escaped the attacks of the iconoclasts, and the heedlessness and stupidity of the Gallios "who care for none of these things."

When an old building is hopelessly dilapidated, what methods can be devised for its restoration and preservation? To pull it down and rebuild it is to destroy its historical associations and to make it practically a new structure. Happily science has recently discovered a new method for the preserving of these old buildings without destroying them, and this good angel is the grouting machine, the invention of Mr. James Greathead, which has been the means of preventing much of vanishing England. Grout, we understand, is a mixture of cement, sand, and water, and the process of grouting was probably not unknown to the Romans. But the grouting machine is a modern invention, and it has only been applied to ancient buildings during the last six or seven years.[65] It is unnecessary to describe its mechanism, but its admirable results may be summarized. Suppose an old building shows alarming cracks. By compressed air you blow out the old decayed mortar, and then damping the masonry by the injection of water, you insert the nozzle of the machine and force the grout into the cracks and cavities, and soon the whole mass of decayed masonry is cemented together and is as sound as ever it was. This method has been successfully applied to Winchester Cathedral, the old walls of Chester, and to various churches and towers. It in no way destroys the characteristics and features of the building, the weatherworn surfaces of the old stones, their cracks and deformations, and even the moss and lichen which time has planted on them need not be disturbed. Pointing is of no avail to preserve a building, as it only enters an inch or two in depth. Underpinning is dangerous if the building be badly cracked, and may cause collapse. But if you shore the structure with timber, and then weld its stones together by applying the grouting machine, you turn the whole mass of masonry into a monolith, and can then strengthen the foundations in any way that may be found necessary. The following story of the saving of an old church, as told by Mr. Fox, proclaims the merits of this scientific invention better than any description can possibly do:—

"The ancient church of Corhampton, near Bishops Waltham, in Hampshire, is an instance. This Saxon church, 1300 years old, was in a sadly dilapidated condition. In the west gable there were large cracks, one from the ridge to the ground, another nearer the side wall, both wide enough for a man's arm to enter; whilst at the north-west angle the Saxon work threatened to fall bodily off. The mortar of the walls had perished through age, and the ivy had penetrated into the interior of the church in every direction. It would have been unsafe to attempt any examination of the foundations for fear of bringing down the whole fabric; consequently the grouting machine was applied all over the building. The grout escaped at every point, and it occupied the attention of the masons both inside and outside to stop it promptly by plastering clay on to the openings from which it was running.

"After the operation had been completed and the clay was removed, the interior was found to be completely filled with cement set very hard; and sufficient depth having been left for fixing the flint work outside and tiling inside, the result was that no trace of the crack was visible, and the walls were stronger and better than they had ever been before. Subsequent steps were then taken to examine and, where necessary, to underpin the walls, and the church is saved, as the vicar, the Rev. H. Churton, said, 'all without moving one of the Saxon "long and short" stones.'"

[65] A full account of this useful invention was given in the Times Engineering Supplement, March 18th, 1908, by Mr. Francis Fox, M. Inst. C.E.

In our chapter on the delightful and picturesque old bridges that form such beautiful features of our English landscapes, we deplored the destruction now going on owing to the heavy traction-engines which some of them have to bear and the rush and vibration of motor-cars which cause the decay of the mortar and injure their stability. Many of these old bridges, once only wide enough for pack-horses to cross, then widened for the accommodation of coaches, beautiful and graceful in every way, across which Cavaliers rode to fight the Roundheads, and were alive with traffic in the old coaching days, have been pulled down and replaced by the hideous iron-girder arrangements which now disfigure so many of our streams and rivers. In future, owing to this wonderful invention of the grouting machine, these old bridges can be saved and made strong enough to last another five hundred years. Mr. Fox tells us that an old Westmoreland bridge in a very bad condition has been so preserved, and that the celebrated "Auld Brig o' Ayr" has been saved from destruction by this means. A wider knowledge of the beneficial effects of this wonderful machine would be of invaluable service to the country, and prevent the passing away of much that in these pages we have mourned. By this means we may be able to preserve our old and decaying buildings for many centuries, and hand down to posterity what Ruskin called the great entail of beauty bequeathed to us.

Vanishing England has a sad and melancholy sound. Nevertheless, the examples we have given of the historic buildings, and the beauties of our towns and villages, prove that all has not yet disappeared which appeals to the heart and intellect of the educated Englishman. And oftentimes the poor and unlearned appreciate the relics that remain with quite as much keenness as their richer neighbours. A world without beauty is a world without hope. To check vandalism, to stay the hand of the iconoclast and destroyer, to prevent the invasion and conquest of the beauties bequeathed to us by our forefathers by the reckless and ever-engrossing commercial and utilitarian spirit of the age, are some of the objects of our book, which may be useful in helping to preserve some of the links that connect our own times with the England of the past, and in increasing the appreciation of the treasures that remain by the Englishmen of to-day.



INDEX

Abbey towns, 210-29 Abbot's Ann, 381 —— Hospital, Guildford, 343 Abingdon, 278 —— bridge, 320 —— hospital, 344 —— archives of, 365 Age, a progressive, 2 Albans, St., Abbey, 212 —— inn at, 254 Aldeburgh, 18 Aldermaston, 196, 381 Alfriston, 256 Allington Castle, 124 Alnwick, 31 Almshouses, 333-48 Almsmen's liveries, 346 American rapacity, 6-7, 164, 183 Ancient Monuments Commission, 392 Anglo-Saxon Chronicle on Castles, 116 Armour, 184 Art treasures dispersed, 5 Ashbury camp, 208 Atleburgh, Norfolk, 147 Avebury, stone circle at, 207 —— manor-house, 180 Aylesbury, Vale of, 86, 91 —— inn at, 256

Bainbridge, inn at, 254 Banbury, 83 Barkham, 148 Barnard Castle, 119 Barrington Court, 189 Bartholomew's, St., Priory, 351-9 Bath, city of, 220 Beauty of English scenery vanishing, 383-91 Berkeley Castle, 118 Berwick-on-Tweed, 29, 31 Beverley, 303, 310 Bewcastle Cross, 288 Bledlow Crosses, 303 Bodiam Castle, 125 Bonfires of old deeds, 366 Bosham, 16 Bournemouth, 17 Bowthorpe, 139 Boxford, 145 Bradford-on-Avon, 142, 328 Branks, 315 Bray, Jesus Hospital at, 340 Bridges, destruction of, 10 —— old, 318-32 Bridgwater Bay, 17 Bridlington, 17 Bristol Cathedral, 220 Burford, 94 Burgh-next-Walton, 17 Burgh Castle, 112

Caister Castle, 126 Canals, 389 Canterbury Cathedral, 211 —— inns at, 248 Capel, Surrey, 82 Castles, old, 111-32 Cathedral cities, 210-29 Caversham bridge, 322 Chalfont St. Giles, 88 Charms of villages, 67 Chester, 50 Chests, church, 159 Chests in houses, 196 Chichester, 164 —— hospital at, 335 Chingford, Essex, 141 Chipping Campden, 345 Chipping monuments, 164 Church, a painted, 158 —— furniture, 158 —— plate, 160 Churches, Vanishing or Vanished, 133-65 Churchwarden's account-books, 366 Cinque Ports, 23 Cirencester, 270 Clipping churches, 378 Clock at Wells, 214 Cloth Fair, Smithfield, 356 Coast erosion, 15-27 Coastguards, their uses, 27 Cobham, 336 Coleshill bridge, 326 Colston Bassett, 139 Commonwealth, spoliation during the, 148, 220 Compton Wynyates, 174 Conway, 31 Corhampton church, 397 Cornwall, prehistoric remains in, 204 Corsham, 345 Cottages, beauties of old, 68, 108 Covehithe, 17 Coventry, 58, 255, 345 Cowper at Weston, 170 Cranbrook registers, 372 Crane bridge, Salisbury, 327 Cromer, 17 Crosses, 283-305 —— wayside, 293 —— market, 293 —— boundary, 300 —— at Cross-roads and Holy Wells, 300 —— sanctuary, 303 —— as guide-posts, 303 Crowhurst, 181 Croyland bridge, 324 Cucking stool, 314 Curious entries in registers, 373 Customs that are vanishing, 375-82

Deal, 86 Derby, West, stocks restored, 312 Devizes, inn at, 260 Dickens, C., and inns, 242 Disappearance of England, 15-27 Documents, disappearance of old, 364-74 Dover Castle, 117 Dowsing, W., spoliator, 148 Dunwich, 22

Eashing bridge, 327 Eastbourne, 17 Easter customs, 379 Easton Bavent, 17 Edwardian castles, 123 Elizabethan house, an, 104, 178 Ely fair, 363 —— registry plundered, 369 England, disappearance of, 15-27 Essex, 100 Estate agents, 10 Evesham, 223 Ewelme, 345 Exeter town hall, 280 Experience, a weird, 171 Fairs, vanishing, 349-63 Fastolfe, Sir John, 126 Felixstowe, 18 Fig Sunday, 379 Fires in houses, 166 Fishermen's Hospital, 342 Fitzstephen on Smithfield Fair, 352 Flagon, a remarkable, 194 Football in streets, 378 Forests destroyed, 386 Foreign governments and monuments, 392-5 Friday, Good, customs on, 379 Furniture, old, 196 —— church, 158

Galleting, 78 Garden cities, 384 Gates of Chester, 51 Geffery Almshouses, 337 Gibbet-irons, 316 Glastonbury, 147, 250 —— powder horn found at, 192 Gloucester, 252 Goodening custom, 377 Gorleston, 45 Gosforth Cross, 289 Grantham, inns at, 240 —— crosses at, 298 Greenwich, the "Ship" at, 260 Grouting machine, 396 Guildford, 343 Guildhalls, 268 Guildhall at Lynn, 38 Gundulf, a builder of castles, 115

Hall, Bishop, his palace, 246 Halton Cross, 291 Hampton, 17 Happisburgh, 17 Hardy, T., on restoration, 156 Hartwell House, 196 Heckfield, 160 Herne Bay, 17 Hever Castle, 124 Higham Ferrers, 335 Hints to Churchwardens, 153 Holinshed quoted, 177, 191 Holman Hunt, Mr., on bridges, 318 Honiton Fair, 360 Hornby Cross, 292 Horsham slates, 80 Horsmonden, Kent, 82 Hospitals, old, 333-48 Houses, old, 104, 171 —— destroyed, 5 —— half-timber, 57, 74, 107 Hungate, St. Peter, Norwich, 140 Hungerford, 308, 314 Huntingdon, inn at, 240 —— bridge at, 327

Ilsley, West, sheep fair, 362 Inns, signs of, 262 —— old, 230-65 —— retired from business, 259 —— at Banbury, 84 Intwood, Norfolk, 140 Ipswich, 45 Irving, Washington, on Inns, 234 Ivy, evils of, 141

Jessop, spoliator, 150 Jousts at Smithfield, 353

Kent bridges, 326 Keswick, Norfolk, 140 Kilnsea, 17, 21 Kirby Bedon, 139 Kirkstead, 141

Leeds Cross, 290 —— Castle, 123 Leominster, 314 Levellers at Burford, 97 Lichgate at Chalfont, 90 Links with past severed, 3 Liscombe, Dorset, 140 Littleport, 86 Llanrwst bridge, 320 Llanwddyn vale destroyed, 384 London, vanishing, 11 —— churches, 135 —— growth of, 70 —— Inns, 238 —— Livery Companies' Almshouses, 338 —— Paul's Cross, 304 —— St. Bartholomew's Fair, 351-9 —— water supply threatens a village, 385 Lowestoft, 150 Lynn Bay, 17 Lynn Regis, 35, 342

Mab's Cross, Wigan, 304 Maidstone, 280 Maidenhead bridge, 320 Maldon, 103 Manor-houses, 177 Mansions, old, 166-202 Marlborough, inn at, 259 Martyrs burnt at Smithfield, 353 Megalithic remains, 203 Memory, folk, instance of, 208 Menhirs, 203, 204 Merchant Guilds, 267 Milton's Cottage, 88 "Mischief, the Load of," 262 Monmouthshire castles, 128 Mothering Sunday, 379 Mottes, Norman, 111, 115 Mumming at Christmas, 376 Municipal buildings, old, 266-82

National Trust for the Protection of Places of Historic Interest, 141, 189, 278, 281, 386 Newbury, stocks at, 309 —— town hall, 274 Newcastle, 111 —— walls, 34 New Forest partly destroyed, 386 Newton-by-Corton, 17 Norham Castle, 120 Norton St. Philip, 255 Nottingham Goose Fair, 360 Norwich, 244, 271 —— hospitals at, 342

Ockwells, Berks, 187 Olney bridge, 330 Orford Castle, 118 Oundle, 338 Oxford, 70 —— St. Giles's Fair, 360

Palimpsest brasses, 147 Palm Sunday customs, 379 Pakefield, 17 Paston family, 126, 140, 246 Penshurst, 181 Pevensey Castle, 112 Plaster, the use of, 180 Plough Monday, 378 Pontefract Castle, 121 Poole, 17 Porchester Castle, 112 Ports and harbours, 84 Portsmouth, 86 Poulton-in-the-Fylde, 311 Pounds, 312 Prehistoric remains, destruction of, 203-9 Preservation of registers, 374 Progress, 2 Punishments, old-time, 306-17

Quainton, Bucks, 337

Radcot bridge, 323 Ranton, house at, 107 —— priory, 138 Ravensburgh, 20, 21 Reading, guild hall at, 274 —— Fair, 360 Rebels' heads on gateways, 32 Reculver, 23 Reformation, iconoclasm at, 145, 218 Register books, parish, 368 Restoration, evils of, 9, 10, 151, 153, 156, 220 Richard II., murder of, 121 Richmond, 111, 260 Ringstead, 140 Rochester, 35, 248 Rollright stones, 204 Roman fortresses, 114 Rood-screens removed, 158 Roudham, 140 Rows at Yarmouth, 42 —— —— Portsmouth, 86 Ruskin, 3, 67, 198, 200 Ruthwell Cross, 289 Rye, 60

Saffron Walden, 100 Salisbury, halls of guilds at, 281 Sandwich, 34 St. Albans Cathedral, 212 —— inn at, 254 St. Audrey's laces, 363 St. Bartholomew's, Smithfield, 351-9 St. Margaret's Bay, 17 Salisbury, halls of guilds at, 281, 294 Sandwich, 34 Saxon churches, 144 Scenery, vanishing of English, 3, 383-91 Scold's bridle, 315 Sea-serpent at Heybridge, 104 Selsea, 23 "Seven Stars" at Manchester, 252 Shingle, flow of, 26 Shrewsbury, 52, 270 Shrivenham, Berks, 165 Shrovetide customs, 378 Signboards, 264 Sieges of towns, 32 Simnels, 379 Skegness, 21 Skipton, 310 Smithfield Fair, 351-9 Smuggling, 258 Society for Protection of Ancient Buildings, 141, 320, 326 Somerset, Duke of, spoliator, 146 Somerset crosses, 296 Sonning bridges, 318 Southport, 16 Southwell, inn at, 144 Southwold, 17, 18 Staircases, old, 196 Staffordshire churches, 136 Stamford, hospitals at, 336 Stilton, inn at, 243 Stocks, 306-17 — in literature, 307 Stonehenge, 205 Storeys, projecting, 72 Stourbridge Fair, 362 Stow Green Fair, 362 Strategic position of castles, 114 Streets and lanes, in, 67-110 Stump Cross, 304 Suffolk coast, 20 Surrey cottages, 76 Sussex coast, 17 Sussex, Robert, Earl of, spoliator, 147 Swallowfield Park, 194

Tancred, description of an inn, 236 Taunton Castle, 129 Tewkesbury, inns at, 252 Thame, 91, 367 Thatch for roofing, 78 Thorpe-in-the-Fields, 139 Tile-hung cottages, 77 Tournaments at Smithfield, 353 Towns, old walled, 28-66 —— abbey, 210-29 —— decayed, 266 —— halls, 266-82 Turpin's ride to York, 240 Tyneside, coast erosion at, 21

Udimore, Sussex, 94 Uxbridge, inn at, 256

Viking legends, 290, 291

Walberswick, Suffolk, 148 Walled towns, old, 28-66 Walls, city, destroyed, 12 Wallingford, 276, 313 Warwick, 70, 159 Wash, land gaining on sea, 16 Water-clock, 196 Well customs, 381 Wells, cross at, 297 Wells Cathedral, 213-16 Welsh castles, 130 Weston house, 170 Whipping-posts, 306-17 White Horse Hill, 206 Whitewash, the era of, 157 Whittenham Clumps, 207 Whittenham, Little, 152 Whitling church, 139 Whittington College, 338 Winchester, St. Cross, 334 Winchmore Hill Woods, destroyed, 386 Window tax, 180 Winster, 278 Witney Butter Cross, 297 Wirral, Cheshire, 25 Wokingham, 277 —— Lucas's Hospital at, 340 Wood, Anthony, at Thame, 93 Wymondham, 256, 297

Yarmouth, 17, 40, 147, 342 York, 48 —— walls of, 34 Yorkshire coast, 17 Ypres Tower, Rye, 64

THE END