i<1 \ A, V7 Contiiftutions to 2.tttvature. Ex Libris C. K. OGDEN CONTRIBUTIONS TO LITERATURE f^istorical, Antiquarian, anti iHctricaL BY MARK ANTONY LOWER, M.A, F.S.A. FELLOW OF THE ANTKJUAUIAN SOCIETIES OF NORMANDY, AMEKICA, AND NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE; IIEMBEE OF THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCES OF CAEN, ETC. ETC. ETC. ■ Ubi quid datur ott, Eludo chartis.- HOR. Sat. IV. LONDON: JOHN KUSSELL SMITH, 36, SOHO SQUARE. MDCCCLIV. LONDON: TUCKEB, PEINTEE, PEEKY'S PLACE, OXFOED STEEET. ^^ TIFRARY 2 7 UNlVERPT-^y OF r.MJFORNIA LGS SANTA BARBARA TO THE EEV. JOHN COLLINGWOOD BRUCE, LL.D., F.S.A. (LONDON AND NEWCASTLE), ETC. ETC. ETC. Author of ' The Roman Wall ; ' ' The Bayciix Tapestry Elucidated ; ' ' Hadrian, the Builder of the Wall,' etc. My dear Sir, Permit me to mark my esteem for your person and character by dedicating to You this little Book. The similarity of our tastes, and the interest which you have taken in some of the topics here discussed, would alone justify my desiring the sanction of your name; but I have a yet stronger motive. You, dear Sir, have given to the world substantial evi- dence, that while you have devoted a portion of your time to literature, you have not the less efficiently discharged the important and arduous duties of the responsible position in which you are placed, as the head of one of the largest educational esta])lisliments in England. You have shown how gracefully to himself, and how advantageously to the intellectual world, one who is engaged in the stern labours of scholastic instruction can devote his b M DEDICATION. few brief hours of leisure to subjects not immediately con- nected with his ordinary round of duties. If I, in my similar, but humbler, sphere of action, so dedicate a few hours snatched from periods given up by some to mere vacuity and amusement, I have the satisfaction at least of knowing, that no duty is thereby neglected, no other's right infringed. In the hope that you may long enjoy health and strength, not only to benefit those who come under your valuable tuition and example, but also to render further services to the cause of Retrospective Literature, I remain, My dear Sir, Very faithfully yours, Makk Antony Lower. Saint Anne's Hoxtse, Lewes ; 30th December, 1853. PREFACE. The following sheets are composed partly of articles which have already been printed ; partly of Essays which hitherto have not seen the light. The paper on Local Nomenclature appeared in nearly its present form in the New Retrospective Review, No. IV. That on the Battle of Hastings is a slight extension of a Paper read before the Sussex Archaeological Society, and published in their 'Collections' Vol. VI. The Memoir on the Southern Iron-Works likewise appeared in the second volume of that series. The substance of a portion of the Antiquarian Pilgrimage in Normandy was printed in the same Society's third volume, and subsequently translated into French, and published in the Revue de Bouen. The Essay on the South-Downs, and the obser- vations on Genealogy, together with the minor pieces, are now first prhitcd. Of the metrical Viii PREFACE. attempts, the one entitled ' Winchelsea's Deli- verance' was printed in a recent number of the New Monthly Magazine : the others now appear for the first time. The Sonnet at page 163 was published some years since in the Literary Gazette and in some local Newspapers. With respect to the first article of this volume, the paper on Local Names, I would remark, that it is a mere outhne of an Essay which I hope at some future time to fill up. It is somewhat remarkable, that amidst the multifarious sub- jects which at the present day occupy the pens of the learned and the philosophical, so little attention should hitherto have been paid to the etymology of the proper names of places and persons. With the exception of my own ' Eng- lish Surnames,' which has gone through several editions, I am not aware of any English work worthy of the name that has been devoted to that branch of the subject. On the names of Places there is no independent work, except the small treatise of Dr. Leo, translated from the PREFACE. IX original German by Mr. Williams. There are, it is true, many detached essays of great merit scattered through the pages of various periodical and other publications, but no one seems hitherto to have considered the subject of sufficient im- portance for a distinct volume. Perhaps the difficulties which surround it may have deterred abler pens than mine from attempting the task. However this may be, no one can gainsay the interest attaching to this branch of etymology. I am one of those who are presumptuous enough to think a rough and crude attempt in any species of enterprise better than none at all. All knowledge is progressive, and all efforts in a new du'ection will be more or less unsatisfactory. For myself I am content in this and other mat- ters to perform the somewhat arduous and thankless task of a pioneer. I have nothing further to remark upon these essays, except that the ' Memoir on the Iron- Works of the South-East of England' is now reproduced in consequence of the interest taken in the subject by many who arc unconnected X PREFACE. with the local society for which it was originally written. I have to thank the Committee of the Sussex Archa3ological Society for the loan of the wood- cuts, made from my own drawings, which accompany the Paper on the Iron-Works, the Portrait of Dr. Andrew Borde, and the Views of the Castle and Church of Bellcncombre in Normandy. CONTENTS. Dedication. Pbbface. On Local Nomenclatitee. General curiosity on the subject, 1 — Eidiculous etymologies of Udimore, Aston Clinton, and Hurstper point, 2 — False deri- vation of Alfriston, 3 — Pedantic etymologies, Pomfret, 4 — Win- chehea, Oxsteddle Bottom, Virunium, 5 — Seauce from Kabc- lais. EiTors of derivation in 'Baxter's Glossary,' 6 — Names of geograpliical features, as rivers and mountains, of Celtic origin. Quotations from Csesar and Salverte, shovring how old names have been imposed upon new places by Colonists, 7, 8 — Illustra- tions from the United States, 9 — Significance of some American names. Practice of borrowing names of distinguished places and men, 10 — Soiu'ces of our local nomenclature. Celtic Langitage, 11 — Aballaha in Cumberland, so named by the Moors stationed there in Eoman times, 12 — Retention of some Celto-Roman names, 13 — Lhwyd on names of Rivers, 14 — Mountains, 15 — Celtic remains in Welsh and Cornish names, 16, 17 — Anglo-Saxon, 18 — Teutonic names imposed in Roman times. Burr/ovicus, &c., 19 — Danish Names. Errors of Mr. Worsaae, 20 — French Names : their paucity in England, 21, 22 — Practice of affixing names of Norman proprietors, 22 — Modern English, 23 — Majority of local names Anglo-Saxon, 24 — Chief terminations, 25 — Tabular view of terminations, 26 — Names derived from the Teutonic Mythology, 27 — Curious derivation of Folkestone by Baxter, 27 — Names from Fairy My- thology of the Saxons, 29 — Names from those of proprietors of the soil, 29 — From animals, vegetables, and muierals, 30-33 — From positions upon Roads and Rivers, 33 — From Historical events, customs, &c., 34» — Conclusion, 35. On the Battle op Hastings. Erroneous accounts of, 37 — Arrival of Harold from the North ; his camp and army, 38 — Riotous conduct of the Saxons on the eve of the battle, and opposite demeanour of tlic invaders, 39 — Approach of WilUam's Army, 40 — Authority of the Bayeui XU CONTENTS. Tapestry, 41 — Costume of the Normans, 42 — Curious incident at William's arming ; William's disregard of the omen, 43 — His vow to build an Abbey, 44 — William's noble bearing, 45 — Bishop Odo, Ms gallantry, 45 — Other eminent leaders and their subsequent settlement near the scene of the battle, 46 — WiUiam's speech to his soldiers, 47 — Harold's camp ; costume of liis soldiers, &c., 48 — The Saxons incapable of fighting on horse- back, 49 — Commencement of the battle, 49 — Exploits of Taillefer, 50 — War-cries of the two armies, 52 — Feigned retreat of the Normans, 53 — Slaughter in Malfosse, 54 — Identification of that locality, 56 — Bravery of Wilham and Odo, 57 — of Harold, 58 — Harold wounded in the eye by an arrow, 59 — Anecdotes of pei'sonal bravery, 60, 61 — Dreadful slaughter, 62 — Death of Harold, 63 — Precise locahty of tliis event, 63 — Its discovery in recent times, 64 — Discom- fiture of the Saxons, 65 — William sups and sleeps among the dead, 66 — Morning after the conflict, 66 — William buries his dead, 67 — Finding of the body of Harold, 68 — His mother's toucliing appeal to William for the body, and William's answer 69 — Harold's grave on the Sussex coast ? 69 — Number of the slain, 70 — Identification of locaUties, 72 — Battel Abbey a me- morial of the Conquest, 72. The Loed Dacee — his Motjenful End : a tefe Histoey. Historical Introduction, 74— The baUad, 76-84. HiSTOEICAL AKD AECH.EOLOaiCAL MEMOIE OF THE IeON-WOEKS OF THE SOUTH-EaST OF ENGLAND. Geological position of the ferruginous strata, 85 — Iron of the district manufactured by the Romans, 87 — Discovery of one of their Works at Maresfield, 88 — Relics found there and elsewhere, 89-92 — Caesar's account of British Ii'on; his misconceptions thereon, 93 — The Romans' knowledge of our metals, 94 — Fii-st actual record of iron-trade, 95 — History during xrii and xiv centuries, 96, 97 — Rehcs of the manufacture, 98-103 — Cannons first cast in Sussex by Hogge and Bawd, temp. Henry VIII., 104 — Fine gun in the Tower of London, 107 — An Iron-master's account book, 107 — Richard Woodman the Martyr an Iron- master, 108 — Archbishop Parker's dishke of Iron- works, 109— Aristocratic Iron-masters, 109 — Cannon smuggled abroad, and means adopted to prevent it, 110, 111 — Andirons and other relics of the trade, xvi century, 112-115 — Waste of timber by the Iron-works, and legislative enactments for its preservation under Henry YIII and Elizabeth, 116 — Extract from John CONTENTS. XIU Norden's ' Surveyor's Dialogue ' on this subject, 118 — Glass- works in the South, 119 — Camden's account of Sussex Iron, 120-121 — Fuller's, 121 — Ordnance presented to the King of Spain by Su- Anthony Sherley, 121 — Iron-works limited by Charles I, 122 — Bell-founding practised in Sussex, 123 — Brass and steel works, 124 — Drayton's 'Polyolbion' cited as to the destruction of the Forests by the Iron-works, 125 — Andirons and chimney-backs of the xvii century, 126-128 — Monumental slabs of iron in chm-ches, 128 — Destruction of royal Iron-works during the Civil Wars, 128 — John Eay's description of iron- making, 129-132— Hammer-post at Ho\ybom-ne, 132 — Great works at Lamberhiu'st Furnace : iron rails round St. Paul's cast there, 133 — Iron-founders to Charles II, 133 — Flourishing state of the trade in the early part of the xviii century, 133 — Export of cannon to India and elsewhere, 134 — Choice of sites, 134 — Decline and fall of the trade, 135 — Examples of fluctu- ation of fortune among the Iron-masters and their descendants — the Fowles and Barhams, 136, 137 — Probable revival of the Manufacture, 138. Winchelsea's Delitekance, oe the Stout Abbot of Battatle. The Argument : historical introduction, 139 — ^The ballad, in three fi/ttes, 139-145. The South Downs — a sketch. Misapprehensions as to the beauty of these hills, 146 — Pleas- ing character of surface : Gilbert White's opinion, 147 — Fine turf and facdities for riding and walking, 148 — A South Down village, 149— Pure air, 149 — Natural history : sheep, trees, and shrubs, 152 — Bustards and Wheatears, 153 — Fairy rings; their cause, 154' — Ascribed to the nocturnal dances of the Fairies ; quotation from John Aubrey, 155 — Fairy-tales of the South Downs, 156 — Quotations respecting fairy rings, 157-158 — Story of Chols Packham and the fairy, 159 — Master Meppom's ad- venture with the industrious fairies, 161 — Practice of planting snow-drops in church-yards, 163 — Sonnet, 163 — Shepherds of the Downs, 164 —Their long continuance in the district, 165 — Tenacity of the South-Down farmers to the locahty, 166 — Old shepherd-hfe, 167— Smugglers, 169— Nick Cossum and the exciseman, 170 — Smugghng connived at by the better classes of society, 171 — Scenery, 172 — Remarkable eminences and depres- sions : the Combe at Lewes and the Devil's Dyke, 172 — Mr. Hamper's versified legend, 173— South Down churches, 174 — XIV CONTENTS. Earthworks and barrows, 175 — Geology, 175 — Dr. Gideon Man- tell's researches : Anecdote, 176 — Old feudal fortresses : Lewes : remarkable posthumous history of Gundrada de Warenne, 177 — Remarkable houses and ancient sites, 178 — Towns, 179 — His- torical reminiscences, 179 — Shipwrecks : Beacliy Head, 179 — Sampliire : remarkable instance of preservation of hiunan life connected with it, 180— Parson Darby's Hole, near Beachy Head, 182 — Eccentric characters, 183 — ' Irregular ' parsons and queer clerks, 181 — -Droll musical anecdote: " Mine eye's so dim," 185 — Eccentric millers, 186— MiUer Oliver and his tomb, 187 — The honest miller of Chalvington, 188 — Miller Coombs and his painted horse, 189 — His supernatm'al warning against matri- mony, 190— Chalk-pits, 190— A tale of a Bucket, 191— Con- clusion, 192. On Yew-Teees in CnrECH-YAEDS. The question, why planted there ? 193 — Vast age of Yews, 194 — Rejuvenescence of Yews, 195. A Ltttel Geste of a Gee ate Eele. Memorandum : Andrew Borde, the probable author of the story of drowning an Eel, 196 — Rev. L. B. Larking on the practice of di-owning criminals at Pevensey, 197 — The Ballad, in two parts, 197-203. A DiscouEsE OE Genealogy. Genealogy cultivated in all ages and by all nations, 204 — Disposition to slight it now prevailing, 205 — Bm-ns and his democratical sentiments, 205 — Despisers of pedigree, 207 — Genealogy a passion of om* common nature, 208 — Distinct from the pride of Sank, 209 — Moral advantages of Genealogy, 210 — Remarkable instances of descent from royalty, 211 — Numerosity of ancestral relations : Blackstone's calculation, 212 — Resem- blances between persons not recognized as kindred : ' The two Tuppens,' 213 — Genealogical taste among ancient nations, 214 — High blood v. low blood, 215 — False antiquity ascribed to heraldry, 216 — Early herakh-y always connected with war, 217 — Novi homines, their gradual fusion with the old nobility, 218 — The heraldic Visitations : unconstitutional powers exercised by the lieralds, 219 — Change of notions consequent upon the political struggle of xvii century, 220 — -Arms asstimed by the vulgarly ' genteel,' 221 — Desirableness of extending the practice CONTENTS. XV of bearing arms to all respectable families, 222 — Its use in Q-ene- alogy, 223 — The question, ' What constitutes a gentleman ? ' 224-227 — Love of the science among the Americans, 227 — Citations from Farmer's Gen. Kegister, 228 — and from Dr. Jenks's Address, 228 — The De Courcys and the Grosvenors ; their heirs discovered in humble positions in America, 230 — George Washington a descendant of royalty, 230 — The Ameri- can standard borrowed from the Washington Arms, 231 — Retrospective taste of American writers, 231 — Genealogy pur- sued by Quakers, 232 — Pleasures of the pursuit, 233 — A few directions for tracing pedigrees, 23 !• — The memory of long by- gone events transmitted through few links, 237 — Sources of genealogical materials : wills, parish registers, national records, visitation books, &c., 238-240. An Antiquaeian Pilgeimage ix Noemaxdt. Reason for undertakmg it, 241 — La ChapeUe, 242 — Longue- ville, 243 — St. Victor I'Abbaye, 245 — Religious procession at, 246 — Shrine of St. Victor and its votaries, 247 — A rustic car- riage described, 248 — BeUencombre, 2 19 — Its castle dilapidated by old Dillard, 252— Church, &c., 254. MlSCEIXAJTEA. ' Vox populi non vox Dei ' illustrated : the Parson and the Farmers, 259 — The Rat and the Spoon, 260 — Politian's epistle, 261— The pope and his Wife ! 262— Mr. Eldershaw on Mathe- matics, 263 — and Mathematicians, 266 — " Tuht alter honorcs," 266 — Mysteries not dreamed of in every one's philosophy, 267 — The Anglo-Saxon race over-rated by some, 268 — Derivation of ' Schoolmaster,' 269 — Corruptions in the pronunciation of local names, 269 — Rustic wit, 271 — Alleged natural antipathy between the sheep and the wolf, 271 — An East India anecdote concern- ing, 272 — Illustration of the nil admirari, 273 — Life preserved by a Dream, 273 — Remarkable instance of sympathy between mind and instinct, 275 — Coniiptions of the EngUsh language deplored, 275-278 — TVTiy is the strongest part of a castle called a keej) 1 279 — Odd interpretations of Scripture, 279 — On corruptions in English orthoepy, 280 — On modern archa;ology, 281 — Fii'ing of beacons, or the mayor's mistake, 283 — The Wilmington giant, 284. Cxintviiutions to 2.iteratiire. '^m- ON LOCAL NOMENCLATURE. l\l EXT to tlie curiosity Avhich neariy every one experiences in regard to the origin of his own personal name, that of the appellation of the locality where he resides naturally excites inquiry; and learned clerk and rustic Aviseacre alike apply themselves to the task of discovering an etymon for toAiTi and village, valley and hill. This is not unfrequeutly accomplished M'ith little difficidty, since the component parts of many names of places are but slight departures, if departures at all, from common every-day English words. Por instance, the names of Hil-ton, Nor-ton, Heath-field, Ling-field, Wood-ford, New-bridge, Ash-ridge, West- ham, Bccch-land, South-gate, and many hundred other localities of greater or less magnitude and importance, explain themselves to the " meanest capacity." But it is the more recondite names that supply the choicest food for the speculative inquirer. The residts are sometimes quite satisfactory, though much oftener amusingly incorrect — the ne j^lus ultra of absurdity being not rarely arrived at by men of some pretensions to learning and judgment, as we shall by and bye have occasion to show. But we will first supply a few examples of rustic and traditional etymology Avhich occui* to our recollection. 1 J4 LOCAL NOMENCLATURE. At UdimorC; near Rye, the ^allagers have a legend that their forefathers, in ages long bygone, began to build themselves a church on the opposite side of the little river Ree, to that where it was eventually reared. Night after night however witnessed the dislocation of huge stones fi'om the walls built on the preceding day, and the pious work bade fair to be interminable. Grave suspicions arose among the parishioners that they had selected an unholy, and consequently improper, site for the building, and these were eventually confirmed. Unseen hands hurled the stones to the opposite side of the stream, and an awful supernatural voice in the air uttered, in warning and reproachful tones, the words, " O'er the mere ! O'er the mere !" — thus at once indicating a more appropriate situation for the sacred edifice, and by anticipation conferring a name upon it; for the transformation of the phrase, " O'er the mere," into Udimore, was a difficulty little calculated to shake the faith of the unsophisticated Boeotians who could swallow the more wondrous and remarkable incidents of the legend. The village of Aston-Clinton, in Buckinghamshire, bears a name which few antiquarian readers will be at a loss to account for (the suSix being the appellation of its ancient lords), but here rustic etymology has also been at work, and we were not long since gravely told that it signified " a stone 'dine toivn,'' to wit, a town built upon the slope or '' inclme " of a hill, the ma- terial of the houses having originally been stone ! The delightful village of Hurstperpoint, not far from Brighton, has as distinct an etymology as a;ny we happen to call to mind ( — Hyrst, A.-Sax., a wood, and Pierpoint, the surname of its Anglo-Norman feudal possessors, in contradistinction to Hurst-Monceux, a parish not many miles eastward, which once belonged MISTAKEN ETYMOLOGY. 3 to another Norman family — ) ; but, in spite of this obvious origin, a certain would-be etymological old gentleman used to assm'c his friends that local topo- graphers were labouring under a great mistake. "Hurst, my dear Sir/^ he would say, "is a Saxon, word meaning a wood; per {■&, as you will remember, a Latin preposition, signifying by (!) ; and point, the last syllable of the name, clearly refers to yonder pointed hill called Wolstonlniry; hence Hurstpcrpoint is, as you Avill perceive, the ivood by the pointed hill ! " Thus did this modern village oracle, " Lite a Cerberus pronounce A leasli of languages at once " — beautifully blending into one word a bit of Saxon, a fi'agment of Latin, and a morsel of Anglo-French ! These rustic etymologies are sometimes much more plausible, though equally erroneous. For example, the good people of another Sussex village, Alfriston, attribute its foundation to Alfred the Great ; and the known fact that that monarch had several posses- sions in the neighbourhood is to them " confirmation strong" of their opinion ; but alas for " Alfred's Town," a certain old book called ' Domesday ' in the space of a single line demolishes the theory : '' Gilbert holds a hide in Aluricestone at farm from the Earl : Aluric did hold it as allodial land." Thus it is to an obscure freeman of the days of the Confessor named Al^Tic, or ^Elfric, and not to the patriot-king Alfred, that the village is indebted for its designation. "\Vc may add here, en passant, a remark on the great utility of etymological investigations as an aid to local history. In the instance just cited we have imbedded in a single Avord not only the name of the Saxon proprietor who baptized the locality, but — with the 4 LOCAL NOMENCLATURE. light of ' Domesday Book ' — the precise period when he flourished and settled his little colony upon it ; a period shortly antecedent to the Norman Conquest. In the days of the Confessor the then nascent manor brought in a rental of only twenty shillingSj but at the making of the great survey, some thirty or forty years later, the annual value had reached the largely augmented sum of fifty-four shillings. Let us now turn to another class of etymologists — the diggers up of crooked roots from the classical and other ancient languages — -the delvers after glittering whims and fancies which crumble mto dust before the daylight of history and truth — the pigmies and pedants of philology, who, in their unde derivatur of a name, content themselves with making a pun upon it,' and then gravely assigning to it a French, a Greek, a Latin, or a Celtic origin — men who have all the " madness " w ithout any of the " method " of Home Tooke — men, we mean, who stick at nothing short of extracting sunbeams from a cucumber, or the cucumber itself from the name of Jeremiah Kina: ! We are glad to find this whimsical class fast diminishing; we wish we could pronounce it quite extinct, but alas, whenever w^e are about to felicitate ourselves upon having at length taken leave for ever of such folly, up starts some new theory about Cold- Harbom- or Grimesdyke, which leads us mentally to exclaim, " Quousque tandem abutere patientia nostra .?" Perhaps pseudo-etymology was never so rampant as among the topographical antiquaries of the last two centuries. It w^as nothing to twist Pomfret into an apple-garden, quasi locus poma f evens, in spite of the known fact that Pontefract was the true original name 1 " Conjectures etymologiques, qui ne sont que des charades, plus ou moins ingenieuses." — Salverte, ii, 305. PEDANTIC ETYMOLOGY. 5 of the toTTti. Winclielsea was interpreted still more literally into Friget mare ventus — " Wiud-cliills-Sea" ! But these are trifles to certain etymologies found out by a Sussex antiquary, one Mr. Elliot, who flou- rished somewhat less than a century ago. Here is a sample. Among the South-Down hills, a little eastward of Lewes, is a deep and romantic valley which lies at the foot of a pointed hill called Mount Cabum; the valley itself being called Ox-settle-bottom. " This name would appear,^^ says our etymologist, " to be formed from the British word, uch, lofty, high, and sittelth, an arrow in Armoric English ; for Mount Caburn appears to the eye of the traveller from the south or east to resemble the barb of an arrow. (!) Perhaps Caburn itself might obtain this name of Uch-sittelth or Ox-settle, originally, fi'om the battles that had been fought on its summit," &c. Now, most unfortunately for this learning, the true name of the valley or " bottom" was never Ox-settle, iDut Ox-steddle bottom, and was derived, as eveiybody except Mr. Elliot knew, from a " steddle," or enclo- sure for oxen, which formerly stood in it. An old friend of ours lately deceased, though he could not say as did Edie to Mr. Oldbuck, " Prsetorium here, prffitorium there, I mind the biggin o^t," well remem- bered the destruction of this enclosure, which the bubulci of a day only slightly anterior to xtlr. Elliot's own had caused to be made ! This pseudo-etymology is by no means confined to English ^^Titers. The name of the Norican town Virunium, according to Suidas, was derived from ' Vir unus.' A wild boar, the instrument of di^-ine vengeance, had devastated the district, when a champion, the oily man who deserved the name, like a second Hercules, killed the monster and earned him 6 LOCAL NOMENCLATURE. off upon liis shoulders ; and hence the town got its name. Pliny and the Latin poets abound with similar wliimsieSj which deserve to be classed with Knicker- bocker's derivation of Manhattan (Long Island) from the circumstance of a man with a hat on having been seen there by the aborigines ; and with the etymology of Beauce in Rabelais. Gargantua's mare, while s^^dnging her tail to brush away the flies, knocked down an immense forest, upon which Gargantua, delighted with the exploit, remarked to the by- standers, " Je trouve beau ce ! " and thus Beau ce became the name of the cleared ground ! Abundant derivations really not much less far- fetched than these lie thickly scattered over most of our county histories and other topographical works ; and we are sorry to say that notwithstanding the great erudition of William Baxter, his Glossarium abounds with derivations so extremely far-fetched that no reasonable philologist or antiquary can travel upon good terms with him through two consecutive pages. Upon the whole, however, we are glad of his aid, for, as the alchemists while in search of the elixir vita and the philosopher's stone, though they failed of their main object brought to light many a serviceable com- pomid, so this author, albeit he often shoots wide of his mark, sometimes directs us to objects which had previously escaped our observation : besides, he gene- rally amuses where he fails to instruct, which is more than can always be said of more exact writers. To turn from these vagaries of a misdirected inge- nuity, let us now come to the more immediate pm-pose of the present essay which is to show how the various geographical and political divisions and natm-al features of this country acquired their distinctive appellations — the rules upon which our local nomenclature has OLD NAMES GIVEN BY COLONISTS. 7 been formed. WTioever may have been the primitive settlers upon this island^ it is certain that it was in very early times extensively occupied by tribes of Celtic origin, and that they impressed their language upon many of the more striking geographical featm-es of the land in names which remain to this day. A very large proportion of the mountains and rivers of Britain, not only in those nooks and corners to which these tribes were ultimately driven by subsequent invasions, but all over the island, bear Celtic names, which no change of occupation or of vernacular language has ever been able to displace. The island itself has several times changed its names, but these features of it retain a nomenclature as imperishable as their own existence. With regard to political divisions, they have usually undergone changes of name with every fluctuation of ownership. Thus, when the Belgae became masters of some parts of South Britain, in an age not long antecedent to the Roman invasion, they gave to their colonies the designations of the districts from which they had set out for these shores. " Mari- tima pars," says Caesar, " ab iis [incolitur] qui prsedae ac belli inferendi causa, ex Belgis transierant; qui omnes fere iis nominibus civitatum appellantur, qui- bus orti ex ci^^tatibus eo pervenerunt." (Do Bell. Gall. V. 10.) The feeling which prompted tliis is deeply seated in human nature, and has been operative throughout the entire history of colonisation. On this subject an elegant French Avriter remarks : " Une illusion non moins douce entraine les voyageurs a retrouver, partout ou iis abordent, la patrie dont iis sent eloignes ; a imposer k des lieux nouveaux pour eux les noms des lieux ou s'est developpee leur enfance, ou iis ont laisse des compatriotes, des epouses, des enfants qui soupirent apres lem- retour. Fidelcs k 8 LOCAL NOMENCLATURE. cet usage, les fondateurs de colonies laissent des monu- ments durables de la gloire de leui' nation en des lieux dont un jour pent etre doivent disparaitre toutes les autres traces de leur presence."^ M. Salverte remarks that the name of Medina, the Arabian city so famous for the tomb of Mahomet, occurs in several places in Spain, recalling to memory the dominion of the Mussulmans in that country. This may, however, be merely accidental resemblance, for we, too, have our English Medina as the designation of two hundi-eds and a river in the Isle of Wight, where Ai-abians never had mfluence. He also notices the resemblance be- tween the names of several places in the Engadine, canton of Grisons, and those of ancient Italy, in Vv'hich Lavinium, Falisci, Ardea, and the river Albula are almost exactly reproduced, which supports the traditional community of origin between their an- cestors, the Rhceti, and the Etruscans. Again, there were tribes of Brigantes in the north of England, in Ireland, and in the north-east of Spain, though Johnes thinks these had no identity of origin be- yond their being all Celtic. Briga, so common as a termination on the Roman maps, as in Lacobriga, Telabrica, Augustobriga, &c., probably means town or community, and the name may eventually have extended itself to the surrounding district or pro- vince. Let us glance at the central part of the North American Continent, and we shall find scattered over it everywhere, in the names of its localities, such evidence of the sources of its present population as would serve to reveal the truth were it possible for the annals of its unexampled colonisation to perish. The 2 Salverte, Essai sm- les Jfoms d'Hommes, de Peuples, et de Lieux. Paris, 1824. Tom. ii, p. 247. AMERICAN NAMES. 9 constant recurrence of names of places identical with those of Britain would be demonstration of the strongest possible kind. Perhaps we could not frame a better theory of the method in which local nomencla- ture has everywhere been formed than by an attentive study of a map of the United States. There we discover many names^ particularly those of rivers, lakes, mountain-ranges, and some territorial di^dsions, which baffle all existing etymology, such as Ohio, Mississippi, Mohawk, Alleghany, Apalachia, Tennessee, Michigan, jMassachusets. These arc aboriginal names, retained partly for their own euphonious excellence, partly because it is so much easier to adopt an old name than to invent a new one. It is for these reasons, especially the latter, that our Anglo-Saxon ancestors suffered so much of the Celtic nomenclature to remain, even after they had subjugated the races who imposed it. Continuing our observations, we remark that another large section of American names are mere transcripts of those of English localities, Avith or without the prefix "New," such as New England, Boston, New York, Bochester, New Ilamp- shii'e, Cambridge, Plymouth, Litchfield, New Hartford, &e., some of which have greatly surpassed in im- portance their namesakes in the mother-country. Thirdly, we find a multitude of local names derived from the names of eminent men with whom the foun- dation or history of the various places has been identified, as well as the nomina obscurorum virorum which mere property in the soil has introduced. Thus Ave find alongside of Pennsylvania, Georgia, Wash- ington, and others of dignified origin, a host of BroAvnstons, Johnstonvilles, and Mcrcersburgs. Bc- ligious feeling and a respect for antiquity and genius have introduced a fourth class, such as Salem, Lebanon, 1§ 10 LOCAL NOMENCLATURE. Rome, Troy, Homer, Milton, Hampden, and nearly every name which ancient and modern history can snpply.3 Bad taste is generally observable in the selection of such designations, however euphonious they may be in themselves. We very much prefer that fifth class of American nomenclature which describes localities bv the use of familiar terms, how- ever coarse. Sandy-hook, South-fork, et omne hoc genus, are far preferable in our estimation to names of classical origin. Even " Big-bone-lick," which has an air of the extremest vulgarity, is justifiable on the ground of its appropriateness. The place which bears this name — we forget in what State it lies — was so called on account of its geological characteristics. A " lick," in American phraseology, is a spot to which cattle resort to lick the saline particles of the soil, and the one in question abounds with fossil bones of unusual size. Now had this place been styled Tus- culum, or Mantua, or Athens, however much might have been gained in the alternative by the ear, nothing would have accrued to the miderstanding. Euphony is an excellent quality, but appropriateness is a better; and to " call a spade a spade" is after all the wisest policy. It is for the most part upon such common-sense rules that the local nomenclature of England has been formed. A meaning may be said either to lie upon, or to lurk at no great distance beneath, the surface of most names of ancient date. Before analysing the principal materials of our ancient names, it may be well to classify the various lan- ^ A modem WTiter (F. Lieber, %ve think) says, that, lookmg at a map of the United States, you might almost fancy that all ancient histoiT and geography had been cliopped up and put into a bag, and then shaken abroad over the face of the land ! ITS SOURCES. 11 guages which have been dra's\'n upon, which will be found to be — I. The Celtic dialects, with Latinizations. II. Anglo-Saxon or Teutonic. III. Danish or Scandinavian. IV. French or Norman-French. V. uNIodern, or existing, English. A few words of remark upon each of these will suf- fice for our present purpose ; and first of the Celtic. This name has been for convenience' sake attributed to the earliest settlers of Western Europe — the first great wave of population from Central Asia, which made its way by successive impulses to the remote parts of this continent, and which was ultimately driven into the nooks and corners of it, and of the adjacent islands, by the second or Teutonic wave. The remains of the Celtae, speakmg both ethnologi- cally and philologically, either are, or at a compara- tively recent period loere, to be found principally in the geographical indents or insulations known as Brittany, Cornwall, Wales, Ireland, the Isle of Man, and the Highlands and Islands of Scotland. Of the language or rather languages spoken by the barbarous sun-worshipping and cromlech-building hordes bear- ing this name we know little except by inference and hypothesis. They had no literatui'c ; and all that we can certainly know of their intellectual character and culture comes down to us through the vague and misty channel of traditional rhapsody; while the actual media by which they communicated their sentiments to each other can only be inferred by a laborious collation of what remains in the obsolete or obsolescent tongues called Armorican, Coniish, Welsh, Manx, Irish, and Gaelic — tongues only com- 13 LOCAL NOMENCLATURE. mitted to the custody of alphabetic writing within the last few centuries^ and corrupted and modified by the multitudinous influences to which the vernacular language of uncultured tribes is always necessarily exposed from time^ climate^ and amalgamation with other races. It has been very much the practice with etymologists and topographers to ascribe to the Celtic language those names for which no Saxon etymon could be found, especially if they resembled some Welsh or Gaelic word. This has necessarily led to numerous errors. To cite a single instance^ let us take the very first word in the ' Glossarium/ Aballaba, which by the way Baxter wrongly identifies with Appleby in Westmoreland, whereas its true site is upon the Roman Wall in Cumberland : — " Ab ALL ABA, hodie "Slpultlg, quasi Britannice dicas Ahal (vel Gaval) Ab vel Av ; quod est Fm'ca (vel Sinus,) unclce vel amnis. Iberniaj Scotobrigantibus etiam hodie Abhal pro Furca est ; quo referendum et Anglorum nostrorum ^atllCiClltl, sen fur calis finis in sedificiis. Etiam hodiernis Persis Ab pro Aqua est, quam et Veteres nostri Av, Sav, et Tav appellavere. Eodem plane intellectu et in Cantiacis et in Regnis, et in Damnoniis oppidula occurrunt ^pultfur et flpultjudjam/'' &c. He aftervrards goes on to inform us, that according to the ' Notitia ' this was the station of the prefect of a numerus or troop of Moors {Pncpositiis Numeri Mau- RORuii Aurelianorum) , and that it must therefore have been one of the castella of the Brigantes alluded to by Juvenal [in the passage — * Baxter is quite wi'ong here, for the Kent and Devonshire Apple- dores and the Sussex Appledram are obviously from the Anglo-Saxon Aj)pvMre, an apple-tree. ITS SOURCES. 13 "Dirue Mavirorum attegias, castella Brigantuni, Ut locuplcteiu aquilain tibi sexagesimus annus Afferat."— Sat. xiv, 196, &c.] Now to any unprejudiced judgment, tlie associa- tion of a colony of Moors in Britain "with so veiy moresque a name as Aballaba, renders any appeal fb Celtic roots totally unnecessary. The ]\Ioorish troops whom the jealousy of the Roman policy had trans- planted to this northern region doubtless imposed upon theu' settlement a word borrowed from their vernacular tongue. And since during the prevalence of the Roman power in this island similar boches of Gauls, Germans, Spaniards, Italians, and other foreigners were also introduced here, we are not assuming too much — though it is beside the scope of the present essay to work out this theory — to assert that many of the names given to localities at that period were derived from roots wholly alien to the aboriginal dialects of Britain. At the same time we must admit that in a great majority of instances the names borne bv Roman stations are mere latiniza- tions of British words, although the etymons of the latter (in which Baxter takes so much delight) may be altogether vag-ue and uncertain. At the departm-e of the Romans most of this nomenclatm-e failed, but in some instances the material part of the names is retained to the present day, though of com'se in a very corrupted orthography ; thus we may trace Rcgulbiuni in Reculver, Duhris in Dover, Venta (Bel- garum) in Winchester, Branodunum in Brancaster, Londinium in London, Nklum in Neath, Maiicunium in Manchester, Camboriciim in Cambridge, Uroconium in Wroxeter, and some others mentioned in the 'Notitia' and the ' Antonine Itinerary.' Our rivers, too, in many instances bear tlic original British 14 LOCAL NOMENCLATURE. names, or rather the geographical expressions and terms employed by the Celtic people. As Lhwyd properly remarks — " As for the names of Rivers. We often find that when a country is new peopled, the new-comers take the appellatives of the old inhabitants for proper names. And hence it is, that onr ancestors at their first coming (whenever that was) called so many rivers in England by the names of Asc, Esc, Isc, Osc, and Use, which the English afterwards partly retained (especially in the north) and partly varied into Ax, whence Axley, Axliolm ; Ex, whence Exmouth, Exeter; Ox, whence Oxford for Ouskford; and Ux, as in Uxbridge. This I say proceeded from our ignorance of the language of our predecessors the Giiydlieliau Britams, amongst whom the word sig- nified nothing but ivater, as it doth yet in the High- lands and in Ireland. In the same manner have the English mistaken our Avon, which though it signified only RIVER in general, yet serves with them for the proper name of several of their rivers." (D. E. Luidii Adversaria (in Baxter's Glossarj^), p. 265)^ Perhaps the most remarkable family of names of rivers are those which are based upon the presumed Celtic root dur, which is closely allied to the Greek uJwp and like it means simply water. We have the word in its primitive form in the river Dur in Ireland, and slightly modified in the Doria, and Du7'ia in Cisalpine Gaul, the Douro and Dero in Spain, the Dordogne and the Adour in France, the Adder in Scotland, the Adare in Ireland, and the Adur in Sussex, at the mouth of which the Romans placed a station, to which they gave the name of Portus ' So ganga signifies river, and Ganges is the river, par excellence. CELTIC NAMES. 15 Adurni. Dovar, an obsolete Irish word for water, was evidently of the same origin, and the Kentish town probably borrows its name from a similar source. There are also several other Celtic appellatives mean- ing water which have become the proper names of many of our rivers. Such are Tarn or Tav, Uy, Cluyd, &c. In Tam, whence Thames, Tamar, &c., Lh'O'j'd thinks we have the Celtic form of the Greek tc/xo; in xoTajxo'c. This root is varied into Tav and Tiv, and may be traced in the modern names of the rivers TaAy, Teiri, Dove, Dee, &c. Uy is the equivalent of the Gothic Aa, the Saxon ea, and the French eau, aqua. Hence Wye and many Welsh rivers. Cluyd is seen in the great Scottish river Clyde, as well as in the Clydach, Cledach, Cledog, and Clettiir in Wales. With regard to the Celtic names of mountains, Lhwyd presents us -vrith a remarkable theory. (Gloss. pp. 268 et seq.) " The most common way of naming hills," he says, " was by metaphors from the parts of the body." His instances are principally from Wales, and from localities httle knoAvii; suffice it to say, that he has found in the mountain nomenclature of that proAdnce numerous words signifjdng head, fore- head, scull, face, eyebrow, eye, nose, mouth, neck, arm, breast, belly, hip, side, back, leg, and foot. This theory may at first sight appear more ingenious than true, but we must recollect that we still apply similar expressions to geogi'aphical features : e. g. Bcachy Head, Flamborough Head, to high promontories, and Dungeness, Shecrness (A.-S. nces, a nose) to low projections ; while in every-day parlance Ave talk of an arm of the sea, the mouth of a river, and the brow, the side, and the foot of a mountain. The word moel or voel, so commonly applied to Welsh mountains destitute of wood, signifies " bald-pate." IG LOCAL NOMENCLATURE. From a misiinderstanding of this root tlie good people of Abergavenny, in Lhwyd's time, by a di-oll cata- cbresis, called a conical hill near their town "The Vale," The principal or most usual component parts of British names, as still retained to a great extent in Wales and Cornwall, are the syllables tin or din, maes caer, tre, or trev, and llan or Ian. Of these, the first, which was latinized in numerous instances into du- num, as in Muridunum, Camalodunum, is derived from an old Celtic verb, dunadh, signifying to shut in, or inclose. Its Anglo-Saxon representative was tune and tun, whence the modern English, Town. 2. Maes, or more properly magh, signifies field or plain, and is latinized by magus, as in Sitomagus, Csesaromagus, Noviomagus. 3. Caer, or Car, as re- tained inCaermarthen, Caernarvon, and in many places in Ireland, Scotland, Cornwall, and Brittany, signifies an enclosed or fortified place — " any trench or bank of an old camp ;" the idea was afterwards extended to mean city. 4. Tre or trev " seems to have signified anciently only a family, and to be of the same origine mth the Latin tribus. So pueblo, which properly signifies a people, is a common Spanish word for a small town or village Trev signified not a to^Ti anciently, but a house or home Hence so many Tre's in Cornwall, which were for the most part but single houses, and the word subjoined to it only the name of a Briton who was once the pro- prietor, as Trev Erbyn, Trev Annian, Trev Vydhig. .... Whether the German dorf, called in England Thorp, Threp, and Thrup, may not put in for the same origine and signification, is left to the English- Saxon Antiquaries." — [Glossary, p. 272.) There are many Tre^s or Trev's in Wales, as Trev- alyn, Trelydan, Trevecca; and we probably see this CELTIC NAMES. 17 root in Treviri (Treves), and inA-treb-ntes, the people about AiTas. 5. Llan in Wales, and Ian in Cornwall and Brit- tany, primarily meant an inclosm'C, as is satisfactorily shoNAii by the retention of it in the Welsh Ydlan, a liagard ; Perlhan, an orchard ; G'dinlhan, a vineyard ; Corlun, a shccpfold; and Corflan, a churchyard. Lhwyd observes : — " This signification of it is also confirmed by the Cantabrians or Pyrenean Spaniards, who call a garden landa, and use also the same word for a field or any other enclosure. The reason why we use it for a church was (as I conjectui'c), because before Christianity, the Druids sacrificed and liuried their dead in a cu'clc of stones, which had a Cromlech or Kist-vaen, or both, in the midst; as we find at KeiTig y Drudion in Denbighshire and elsewhere. And it is probable that from such a Crug of stones or a circus or round trench, or fi'om both, the Teutonick nations took their kirk, corrupted by the southern English into church. Lan besides Wales is common in Cornwall and Basse Bretagnc, but scarce used at all in Ireland and Scotland, where the old word is Kil, the derivation Avhereof I must leave to further inquuy." — [Glossary, p. 272.) This prefix Llan or lan, so prevalent in Wales and Cornwall, is one of the most interesting component parts of local names in Britain. Signifpng, as we have seen, "ehm'cli," its suffix describes either the situation or some characteristic feature of that edifice, or records its founder or its patron-saint. E. g. Llan- dovery is said to be a coiTuption of Llan-ym-Ddy- froed, '^ the church among the waters," derived from its location near the confluence of several streams. Llan-daff is the " chui'ch on the river Taff /' Llan- asaph, " the church dedicated to St. Asaph ;" Llanhid- 18 LOCAL NOMENCLATURE. rock, "the church of St. Hidrock ;" and Launceston was anciently Lan-Stephadoriy "St. Stephen's church.'* But we have exceeded our limits upon the some- what unsatisfactory subject of Celtic etymology, and must proceed to the other sources of our local names in the order in which we have indicated them. II. Anglo-Saxon or Teutonic. — The majority of place-names in England are of Teutonic origin. They were mostly substituted for the Romano-British desig- nations when the Germanic tribes had displaced the Celtic race, and formed what is popularly known as the Saxon heptarchy. Although this period can be ascertained with some degree of precision, there is no historical problem more difficult to solve than this : When did the Teutonic wave of population first reach these shores ? and its consequent — When did it begin to be influential in modifying the languages spoken by the people of Britain ? Although we are by no means inclined to favour the hyper- sceptical school who almost deny the existence of such personages as Hengist, Ella, and Cerdic, we are willing to admit Uiat they were much less important in influence than the Saxon annalists have made them. Half con- querors, half colonists, they were by no means the first of their division of mankind who entertained designs for efifecting a settlement here. We believe that long before the days of Ceesar, a considerable pro- portion of the inhabitants of South Britain were of Germanic blood, and that the Belgic Britons of whom he speaks, and who were much farther advanced in ciAalisation than the Celtse, used a Teutonic dialect. Although there is no direct proof of this, we may infer as much from several passages of Ceesar himself, especially the one in which he teUs us that the Celtge ANGLO-SAXON. 19 of Gaul (the acknowledged progenitors of the earliest Britons) differed entii'ely from the Belgse in language, customs, and laws. (De Bell. Gall, i, 1.) But the limits of oui' brief essay preclude our enlarging upon tliis topic, and we hasten to o])ser\'e that the ' Notitia' pre- sents us with some names of stations which must have been imposed by Teutonic colonists, being as unlike anything Celtic as can well be imagined. Such are Burgovicus, now identified with Ilousesteads near the Roman wall ; and Medioborgus, which Baxter places at the mouth of the Tweed. To this militaiy coloni- sation succeeded other settlements from northern Germany, so that at the decline of Roman power in Britain the south-eastern coast seems from the name which it bore — Littus Saxonicum — to have been prin- cipally in the hands of a Teutonic population, not (as is commonly believed) hostile to the Roman govern- ment, but under the protection of a comes or lieutenant of its appointment. The arrival of Hengist, ^Ella. and the other reputed founders of the heptarchy, was but the following out of a stream of colonisation which had long flowed from Germany to Britain ; and it was only when those bold adventurers saw the abject condition of the Celtic islanders, after the ^-ithdrawal of the Roman cohorts, that they aimed at political supremacy and introduced Germanic laws. Their language had for ages been that of a large proportion of the population, and it now became the prevailing one. The Britanno-Roman nomenclature of places was retained in a few instances, but for the most part it was utterly superseded by Anglo-Saxon designations. Wherever a Roman station of importance had existed, the termination ceaster (castrum, fortification) was suffixed. Thus Corinium became Circn-ceaster ; Man- cunium, Mau-ccaster ; and Dorocina, Dor-ceastcr. 20 LOCAL NOMENCLATURE. For tlie most part, however, the name was entirely changed, as llegnum into Cissan-ceaster (Chichester), and Durovernum into Cantwara-burh (Canterbury). In many cases it is oidy by a laborious collation of circumstances that the Roman site can be identified with the Roman name, so completely has the Anglo- Saxon superseded it ; for example, Anderida is now Pevensey ; Pons JElii, Newcastle ; and Ratse, Leices- ter. Sometimes there was an adoption of the old name, but from ignorance of its meaning it was often grossly corrupted. Thus Avalaria went tlirough the form WooUover, and is now Wooler ; and Ad Pontem is according to Baxter, the modern Paunton. III. Danish or Scandinavian. — When the fierce sea-kings of the north had formed their settlements in Britain, and the eastern portions of the island were occupied by a Danish race, some modification of our local nomenclature of course occurred. It was, how- ever, but slight, for the language used by the North- men was a sister tongue to the Anglo-Saxon, and the new-comers had few motives for changing names which must for the most part have been intelligible to them. Mr. Worsaae, however, in his recent work^ thinks otherwise, and labours with that special pleading which so strongly characterises his discussions, to show that they introduced great changes. He claims for his countrymen the honour of ha%ang imposed all those names Avhich desinate in -by, -thorpe, -thwaite, -with, -toft, -beck, -naes, -ey, -dale, -force, -fell, -tarn,-haugh; together with many others in -holm, -garth, -land, -end, -vig, -ho, -rigg, &c. ; but a very slight acquaint- ance with Anglo-Saxon vdW convince any unprejudiced inc[uirer that three-fom'ths at least of these tei'mi- ' The Danes and Northmen in England.' London, 1852. DAXISII AXD FREXCH. 21 nations belong also to that language. Some of tliem, however, are exclusively Scandinavian, as for instance by, which originally meant a single habitation, after- wards a \'illage, or even town. This we believe is only found in those parts of the island where Danish influence prevailed — never in the purely Saxon dis- tricts. It is mostly prefixed either by an epithet, as Eastby, Westerby, Mickleby, Newby — the eastern, the western, the great, and the new ^allages ; or by the name of a Danish proprietor, as Rollesby, Osgodby, Brandsby, Swainby, the village of Rolf, of Osgod, of Brand, and of Sweyn. Thwaite (O. N. thiveit), an isolated piece of land — tarn, a small lake— /oree, a waterfall — with perhaps one or two others, also seem to be purely Scandinavian. Sometimes, too, places previously important were rebaptized by the Danes. Thus Streaneshalch gave way to Whitby, and North- weorthig to Deoraby, now contracted to Derby : these are matters of historical record. IV. Frexch. The greatest people since the extinc- tion of the Roman name were the Normans. Of Scandinavian origin, they rose almost per saltuni from a nation of barbarians to be the most formidable race in Europe, and within an incredibly brief space of time became masters of Northern France, of Eng- land, and of Sicilv. But while thev knew not how to succumb to any alien power, they readily laid down their language at the dictation of circumstances and adopted that of the races Avhom they subdued. They had not long taken possession of Neustria ere they repudiated their old northern dialect, and adopted the softer one of France; and in like manner, on their acquisition of England they failed to introduce the newly- borrowed tongue here. Hard as the Norman 22 LOCAL NOMENCLATURE. scribes found it to \n*ite Anglo-Saxon local names — as "udtncss tlieir wretclied misspellings in ' Domesday Book ' — they never attempted to introduce a new nomenclatm'c^ as their predecessors in conquest had done. And for the few generations during which French most inconveniently maintained its existence as the language of the royal and legal courts, very little indeed was done in the way of imposing French names upon the seigniories which the Norman sword had acquired. In fact, it would be difficult through- out the length and breadth of the land to find fifty places bearing French names of early date. The monastery reared upon the field on which the Con- quest occrrred was, it is true, designated Uabbaie de la Bataile (retained in the modern name Battle), and the metropolis of the newly-acquired land was ridi- culously Frenchified into Londres ; but these are ex- ceptional instances. We have, however, Beaulieu Malpas, Beaurepaire, Beauvoir, Pontefract {Pons- fractus, from a ruined bridge there). Chateau-vert (now Shotover !), &c. &c. Of course we do not in- clude here the Belmonts, Montpeliers, and Bellcvues of modern watering-places, the best argument against the adoption of which is furnished in the vile mis- pronunciations which render them in vulgar mouths Bell-mount, INIount-peelier, and Belly-voo ! "We must not, however, overlook the fact that after the Norman Conquest many manors and parishes received as a suffix to their Saxon names those of their acquirers. This was generally the case where two lordships in the same locality bore the same appellation, but belonged to different proprietors, as Tarring-Neville and Tarring-Peverell, Hurst-Mon- ceux and Hurst-Pierpoint, Stoke-Gabriel and Stoke- Damercll, NcAvton-lNIorrel and Newton-Midgrave, MODERN ENGLISH. 23 Thorpe-]\Ialzor add Thorpe-Mande^-ille. There are one or two curious instances in which the suffix alone is now retained ; thus the original Saxon name of two Buckinghamshire manors has become obsolete, and Avhat were formerly Isenhamsted-Cheney, and Iseu- liamsted- Latimer, are now called and written Cheneys and Latimers. V. Modern English. Little requii'es to be said under this division. Many names have been imposed since om' language has taken its modern and existing form, and additions are continually being made, as new towns, hamlets, and residences spring into exis- tence. Some of these have been formed in the ancient mode by the conjunction of the owner's name with some appellative, as Camois Court, Hill's Place, Camden Town. Sometimes places are contra- distinguished by epithets descriptive of their respec- tive situations or extent, as East Marden, West Marden, Great Bookham, Little Bookham, Over- Compton, Nether- Com pton (or by a Latin phrase, as Weston-super-]\Iarc, Kingston-juxta-Lewcs), — and sometimes by the addition of the name of the patron- saint, as Colne St. Denis, Marston St. Lawi'ence. Such compounds as CheiTy-Hill, Oak-lands, Grove- Hall, Brick- wall, &c., explain themselves. Lastly, when places have belonged to royal or ec- clesiastical personages, they fi'equently bear the name of such owners either in Latin or English, as a prefix or suffix, of which King's Langley and Lyme Kegis, Aston- Abbots and Cerne Abbas, Monks' Horton, and Buckland-^NIonachorum, Bishop's Stortford and Ca- nons' Ashby will serve as instances. Ha\'ing thus indicated the sources from whence the local nomenclature of England has been derived, it 24) LOCAL NOMENCLATURE. will be our object in the remainder of this essay to examine the inaterials out of which it is composed. We have already done this to some small extent in reference to names of Celtic and Danish origin, and shall not revert to those branches of the subject ex- cept perhaps for an occasional analogy. As we have said, the great majority of our local names are of Anglo-Saxon birth, and it is to these that we would now direct the reader's attention. The study of Anglo-Saxon names has been greatly facilitated by the publication of the great body of charters extending from the seventh to the eleventh century, collected from various authentic sources, and edited by Mr. Kemble, under the title of ' Codex Diplomaticus ^vi Saxonici.^ Many of these docu- ments are in the Anglo-Saxon language, and the rest though written in Latin retain the Saxon proper names. These volumes would furnish matter for a series of disquisitions of great interest ; but on the present occasion vre are compelled to content ourselves with general references and remarks immediately con- nected with om' subject. If we examine the name of any town or village we shall generally find it composed of two parts — two Anglo-Saxon words in fact. The second of these is a topographical expression, implying valley, enclosure, bridge, wood, hill, water, island, or the like. The first is a qualifi/inff word which distinguishes the particular valley, enclosure, bridge, &c. from other like places and objects, and is for the most part either an epithet, a genitive form, or the personal name of its Saxon proprietor. Whoever gives his memory a slight fillip, or takes a cursory glance at his comity-map, will notice the frequency with which certain terminations occur in CHIEF TERMINATIONS. 25 local names. He will also probably call to mind the old proverbial distich : — " In ham, and/brt?, and ley, and ton The most of English names do run ;" and although this " wise saw " (like many other "oase saws) is rather narroAV and ineomprehensive, it will serve well as an illustration of the staple of our local nomenclature. Let us collate it a little with our aforesaid memories and county maps, and what scores of NcAvhams and Oldhams, Westhams and Southams ; Oldfords and ISi ewfords, Frcshfords and Littlefords; Hothleys and Bramleys, Horsleys and Cowley s; Nortons and Suttons, Langtons and Altons come at our invocation ! If we possess a turn for such rhyming, we have, like a committee, power to add to our numbers. We will try — but stay ! it has already been done for us in a well-known publication, thus : " Ing, Hurst, and Wood, Wick, Sted, and Field Full many English place-names yield, With Thorpe and Bourne, Cote, Caster, Oke, Combe, Buri/, Den, and Stowe, and Stoke; With JSi/ and Bort, Shaw, Worth, and Wade, Sill, Gate, Well, Stone, are many made ; Cliff, Marsh, and Mouth, and Down, and Sand, And Beck and Sea with numbers stand." ^ There are at least as many more terminations of ^ ' English Surnames,' London, 1849, vol. i, page 58. The reader will probably recollect here the Cornish distich : — " By Tre, Eos, Pol, Lan, Caer, and Pen, You know the most of Comislimen." In Cornwall, local names have the topograpliical term as the initial instead of the final syllable, which is caused by the Celtic substantive having the precedence of its epithet as in Latin, modem French, &c., whereas the Anglo-Saxon, like modern Enghsh, places the adjective foremost. We may add, tliat in Corno-Celtic tre signifies town, rot a heath, pol a pool, lan a church, ccsr a castle, and pen a head. 2 26 LOCAL NOMENCLATURE. less^ yet still considerable, frequency, but as we wish to indicate general principles rather than to work them out to the full, we must content ourselves at present with the followdng illustrative table : Termination. Example. Ang.-Sax. form. Signification. Analogies. IlAM Grealhani, Sussex Juhn manor, house, or handet heim, Germ. 90? Ford Brentford, Middlesex ford fordable point in a river flirt, do. 47 Lev or Ly Bletchingley, SiuTey leak field, with some reference to neighboui'iug woods 70 Ton Warbleton, Sussex tun inclosure, village, town, tuin, Dutch 137 Ing Mailing, Kent »» (explained below) HUKST Hawkhuist, Kent hyrst a wood which yields food for cattle horst, Germ. Wood Goodwood, Sussex wudu wood (lignum) Wick Warwick wic village, town oiKOC, vicus Stei>, Stead Stansted, Sussex stede place, station, 'stead' slat, Germ. 20 Field Huddersfield, York feld plain open ground i feld. Germ. velde, Dutch 18 Thorpe Bishop's Tliorpe thorp a collection of dwellings dorf, Germ. 20 BOUKNE Wintorboiirne, Dorset hurne a rivulet born, Germ. 36 Cote ■Woodiiiaucote, Sussex cote' small dwelling, cottage Chester Silcliester. Hants ceaster a fortified Roman station castrum, Lat. — Oke. ock Tipnoak, Sussex ac an oak tree Combe Ufrarombe, Devon cumb a trough-like valley twm, Welsh Bury Wednesbui-y, Stafford hurh, byrtg town, l)orougli bourg, Fr. 30 Den Bethersden, Kent denu sheltered place affording food for animals dion, Gaelic Stow Waltharastow,Essex \ Basingstoke, Hiints ) stow \ dwelling-place, habita- — Stoke tion Ex Pevensey, Sussex < ed — icate.r ig — island water island or morass Shaw Hensliaw, Nortlmmb. sceaga a small wood, or copse — "\\OKTH Mouldsworth, Chesb. wurd, wyrd plot of ground surround- ed by water, &c. &,c., homestead iciirth, Germ. Wade Biggleswade, Bedford wad a ford — a place near one vadum, Lat. Hill, hull Th'oniliill, Dorset Jujl a hill, or elevation CrATK Newdigate, Surrey gmat a gate, or a way 30 Well Camberwcll, Surrey loel — wyl a spring or its rivulet quelle, Germ. StoiNE Ingatestoue, Essex stan some remarkable boun- dary or assembly-stone stein. Germ. Cliff Kockcliffe, Cumb. clif acliif klippe. Germ. Maksh Pebmarsb, Essex mersc a marsh marsch,Geim. Mouth Yarmouth, Norfolk ninth the outlet of a river Down, don Kilndown, Kent dun elevated land, down dim, Gaelic Sand Cawsand, Devon sand a sand sand, Germ. Beck Troutbcck, Wcstmorl. bee a stream or rivulet bach, Germ. Sea Whittlesea, Camb. ste a lake or stagnant water see, Germ. 7 The figures in the last cokimn are from the ' Rectitudines Sin- gularum Personarura' of Dr. Leo, of Halle, who has carefully analysed the 1200 local names occurring in the first two volumes of Kemble's ' Codex Dipl. ;' 96, 47, &c., are therefore to be understood as Y#§y, iT^> &c., of the names found in those volumes. See Treatise on the Local Nomenclature of the Anglo-Saxons, translated by B. Wilhams, Esq., F.S.A., London, 1852. TErTOXIC MYTHOLOGY. 27 It may be remarked that most of these words also occur as place-names without any prefix. With regard to the prefix, it is, as we have remarked, of various kinds, of which the following may be con- sidered as the principal som'ces : I. The Teutonic Mythology, The names of the Anglo-Saxon divinities and heroes not unfrequently occur as the initial syllable of local names ; as that of Woden in Wodnesbeorh (Wansborougli, co. Hants, and Woodnesborough, co. Kent), Wodnesbrok (Wam- brook, CO. Dorset) — that of Thor or Thunre in Thun- resfield, and Thunresleah (co. Hants), Thurley (co. Beds), Thurlow (co. Essex) — that of Scylcl, a proge- nitor of Woden, in Scyldestrcow (Shilltry ?). Other names include the designations of Frea, Grime, and the fabulous OfFa. We think Mr. Kemble's deduc- tions of this kind rather far-fetched, especially where he derives Hamerton, Hammerwick, &c. from the hammer of Thor. In attributing the Hammerponds of Sun'cy to such a som'ce he is clearly wrong ; for they are well kuowoi to have taken their name from the fact of their waters having been employed to work the hammers of the ii'on-forges, which until within the last two or three generations existed there. Connected A\itli the Teutonic mytliology, Baxter gives a cm-ious etymology for the town of Folkestone, which is perhaps rather more ingenious than proliable. He deduces it from folces stan, " Lemurum sive Larium lapis," the stone of the lemures or lares, fairies or " good /o/A'^." For corroboration he adduces " fox-gloves," the common name of the herb digitalis, which he interprets " lemurum manicie — folks' gloves " — — " vctcribus Britannis Meiiirj E'djf Uylhoii, cor- 28 LOCAL NOMENCLATURE. rupte hodie Elhylhon, quod idem valet : sunt enim Britannis Eiljf Uylhon, nocturui Dscmones, sive Lemures; cum Saxonibus Folces dicatur Minuta plebs, ct forsan etiam Manes." (p. 5.) On a subsequent page (17) he pursues this curious theory : "Ab "Epar, teiTa, fit et 'Fs(^a Macedonum dialento; unde''Evf§o/, " EvFf^o;, et Romanis Tnferi, qui Scoto- saxonibus dicuntur Feries, nostratique vulyo corruptius Fairies, K«^t«%6ov Twas the third night when all were glad, 'Midst song, and quip, and merrie cheer, (As thou, alas ! too soon must hear) These joys a mournful ending had. ' The guests were gathered in the hall. My lord and lady on the dais, And seated in their proper place, Were friends and neighbours great and small. C (C My friends, I pledge you from my heart. In loving-cup of Malmsey bright ; Let us be merrie all, this night. Since 'tis to-morrow we must part. ' " I thank you for the honour done By your most gentle com^tesie. In coming hither thus to me ; Of neighbom-s I miss only one. THE FEAST. 79 " Pelliam hath not vouchsafed to fill A station at our Christening feast ; He might have given, at the least, Some token of a friend's good- will." ' " Well said !" quoth many a hearty friend ; " My Lord, we give you health and joy ! God bless, fair ladye, your sweet boy ! And let not Pelham you offend.'' ' " He 's but a churl !" Froude muttered low ; Wine-heated lloydon spake outright : — " We '11 be revenged on him this night. We '11 teach him courtesy ere we go. ' He hath good bucks within his park. The night is fail*, the moon is clear ; There 's nought like hunting fallow-deer, Whether by daylight or by dark." ' In evil moment Dacre lent To this bad counsel willing mind ; He vowed he 'd not be left behind. And for his deer-hounds straightway sent.' The old man ceased — his quivering tongue Refused its office, and, at last, (Relief of anguish) tears fell fast. And on his beard like dewdi'ops hung. 80 LORD DACRE. II. ' High sailed the moon the crisp air through Above the old Hem- wood -^ The trees o' the chesnut avenue Like gaunt retainers stood. ' As o'er the drawbridge took their way That too light-hearted crowd, Lord Dacre, Mantel, Isley gay. Mad Roy don, wanton Froude. ' And high-born Cheney leading on Of yeomen half a score. With crossbow, pike- staff, spear, and gun ; While buck-hounds ran before. ' " Now heigh for Pelham's fattest deer. My merrie men with speed ! All for their owner's surlv cheere Their flanks this night shall bleed ! ^' ' Softly along Marsh-lane they stretch. And Magham Downe pass by, And presently a compass fetch To th^ park of Hellinglighe. ' Into two bands they now divide. The better sport to find ; One ranges o'er the park so wide. Lord Dacre's stays behind. - The ancient heronry still exists in Herstmonceux Park, as well as the Uchen-clad trunks of the chesnut avenue, coeval with the castle itself. THE KEEPER SLAIN. 81 ' Roydon and Froude urge on the hounds j\Iid covert, bush, and brake j Lord Dacre stands without the bounds. The flying game to take. ' Two hours these wild youths hunted so, Tlien rounded to Pilvehav, With yeomen and with dogs, when, lo. There happed a fereful fray. ' For Pelham's parkcr heard the rout, (John Busbrig, yeoman good,) And straightway fetched his keepers out, And Roydon's band withstood. Foul words and biting taunts ensue, And wounds on either side. Till, with a flood of crimson hue, Pikehay's fair lea is dyed. ' The young Lord Dacre, far away The noise and tumult heard. And rushed to where John Busljrig lay, Stretched out by Roy don's sword. ' " Enough ! we all this night shall rue. By heaven !" Lord Dacre said. They gat them back to Herstmonceux ; The parkcr soon was dead.' 4§ 82 LORD DACRE. Once more his grief forbade to speak ; Groaned deep that ancient man ; \nd coursing o'er his paUid cheek, (Like torrents down some mountain bleak,) The tears of anguish ran. III. ' Five days are past, a tempest lowers ; The lightnings fly ; the maddened breeze Great waving arms of ancient trees Dashes against Herstmonceux's towers. ' Torrents assail its moated walls ; Each turret fair and chimney-stack With rattling thunder seems to crack, And bode destruction to its halls. ' Meet emblem of the storm that tears The young Lord Dacre's aching breast, A stranger both to peace and rest, Since Busbrig's moans assailed his ears. ' 'Twas sad to mark within the hall, Erewhile so gay, so changed now, A heavy cloud o'ercast the brow Of fond retainers great and small. ' And sadder far — most sad of all — To see that beauteous ladye mild All grief-struck (great Bergany's child '') For dread what should her Lord befal. ' The lady of the unfortunate Lord Dacre was a daughter of the Earl of Abergavenny, or Eergany. THE CAPTURE. 83 ' But now the faithful warder hears Sounds that proceed not from the storm. And flashes, not of lightning's form, Sees glittering from a hundred spears. ' What this should mean, his heart misdoubts ; No errand, sure, of love and peace Brings men abroad on days like this All armed — and then, "A Foe V he shouts. ' High mounts the drawbridge — with a clank Descends the barred portcullis strong, That startles all the sherifi'^s throng In order ranged upon the bank. ' A moment more — a bitter cry in Baron's hall and Ladye's bower, That, echoing wildly from each tower, More than the thunder rends the sky. ' Out spake the shrieve — " An entrance free. In th' king's high name I charge you all, Or you shall answer, great and small. Scorn of his crown and dignitie." ' All needless this — for, at a sign From Dacre given, the bridge descends ; " Forbear !" he cries, " my trusty friends, Resist them not — Heaven's will be mine !" 84 LORD DACRE. ' They entered — but no tongue hath power To tell the grief ! That Ladye fair With shrieks right awsome pierced the air ; And all his faithful followers hung About their Lord, so fair, so young — Who by the shrieve that selfsame hour Was borne away to London's Tower. ' Some secret foes, who seek his lands, Have counselled him to own the guilt Of blood that was by others spilt. And yield him to king Henry's hands. But mercy dwells not near his throne ; The vengeance of his blood-stained sword, This morning have my much-loved lord. And Mantel, Froudc, and Roy don known. . ' Have pity on an old man's moan. Now blessed Jesu, Saviour mild. And let him quick to rest begone ! — And wote thou, courteous stranger, well. Why with such grief this talc I tell ; Lord Dacre ivas my foster-child ; John Busbrig was my eldest son !' No more he wept : when all was spoken, The torrent of his tears was dried ; The hoary Druid-stone beside. He gently laid him down and died, His prayer was heard — his heart was broken ! 85 HISTORICAL AXD ARCH^OLOGICAL MEMOIR ON THE IRON- WORKS OF THE SOUTH-EAST OF ENGLAND. (PAETICULAELY OF SCSSEX). Before entering on the history of this manufactiu'e, now extinct in this part of England, it may be as well to premise that the strata which produced the iron ore lie in the central portion of the Wealden formation, in the vast beds of sandstone constituting what is provincially called the Forest Ridge, and known among geologists as the Hastings Sand. These beds extend from Hastings, inland, in a direction nearly west, and form a ridge of elevated land, the course of wliich will be easily indicated by naming Ashbuniham, Heathfield, Crowborough, Ashdown Forest, Worth, Tilgate Forest, and St. Leonard's Forest, as promi- nent points, the loftiest being Crowborough, which attains an elevation of 804^ feet above the level of the ocean. This formation, which stretches on one hand to Anthin a few miles of the challi ridge known as the South Downs, and, on the other, to within a similar distance of the chalk hills of Kent and Sm'rey, was, in the earliest periods of historical record, one vast forest, designated Coit Andred, Andi'ed's-Wald, or the Forest of Anderida. In the still more remote periods, the investigation of which belongs to geological science, 86 IRON-WORKS OP THE SOUTH. it was first overflowed by the waters of an immense river, then submerged by those of a profound ocean, and, lastly, elevated by successive deposits to its exist- ing form. It was in the first of these periods that the ferruginous matter, which was afterwards to become so useful for the purposes of mankind, had its origin. In a private letter with which I Avas favoured by my friend, the late Dr. Mantell, that distinguished geolo- gist, remarks : " It is a very interesting fact that all our principal iron- works obtained their metal from the ferruginous clays and sands of the Wealden; in other words, from iron produced by vegetable and animal decompo- sition in the bed and delta of a mighty river, which flowed through countries inhabited by the Iguanodon and other colossal reptiles.^' ^ Another able geologist, P. J. Martin, Esq., whose opinion will also be received with great respect, ob- serves ; " It appears to me that the ore in the Forest Ridge was the clay iron-stone of the ' Wealden beds.' At the western extremity of the district it is thought that the ferruginous sands of the 'Lower Greensand' were used ; but in the clay country of the Weald I have found sufficient evidence of the exclusive use of a comparatively recent concretion — a kind of 'bog- iron,' frequently turned up by the plough, and called iron rag. It is composed of clay, gravel, and perhaps about 25 or 30 per cent, of oxide of iron, and is a 1 Dr. Mantell adds : " The great coal-field of Hanover is in the Wealden formation. What a pity that the forests of the Iguanodon country which furnished the materials of those carboniferous strata drifted so far north! Had it not been so, we should have had abundance of coal in our Wealds, and Sussex might have furnished rivals to Manchester and BuTuiugham." ARCHAEOLOGY, THE HANDMAID OF HISTORY. 87 superficial and fragmentary formation — a recent ' pud- ding-stone.' " To all who are acquainted with Sussex history, there is no fact more familiar than the former existence, to a great extent, of the manufacture of iron within its limits. Of the history of the trade, however, little has hitherto been known, or, if known, certainly never presented to pu1)lic notice. Its origin was still further shi'ouded in mystery, and whether it should be as- signed to the fifth, the tenth, or the fifteenth century was a matter of total uncertainty; and so it might have remained for years to come, but for the archaeo- logical acumen of the Rector of ]\Iaresfield. To the Rev. Edward Tm'ner we are indebted for the dis- covery of the higlily interesting fact, that it dates as far back as the period of the Roman dominion in Britain. A most agreeable and important illustration of the now familiar truth that archaeology is the best hand- maid of history is furnished by Mr. Turner's re- searches. Tlie maid, indeed, has in this case, been more trustworthy than her mistress ; for History has transmitted us no record to show that the Romans were acquainted with the ferruginous riches of the wealds, and it was left for the inductions of Archaeology to supply the omission. In the year 1844 Mr. Turner observed, upon a heap of cinders,^ laid ready for use by the side of the London road, a small fragment of - Tlie scoricB of the disused furnaces arc called cinders, and are much employed for tlie repair of turnpike and other roads. That they hare long borne this somewhat improper name appears not only from documents of ancient date, b>it from the designations of many localities in the iron district, as Cindorford, Cinderhil], Cinders- gill, &c. 88 IRON-WORKS OF THE SOrTH. pottery, which on examination proved to be Roman. His curiosity having being excited by so unusual a cir- cumstance, Mr. Turner ascertained, on inquiry, that the cinders had been dug upon Old Land Farm, in his own parish of jNIaresfield, and immediately contiguous to Buxted. He at once visited the spot, and found that the workmen engaged in the digging were ex- posing to view the undoubted remains of a lloman settlement. The place in question is the site of one of the in- numerable fields of iron scoriae marking the localities of the extinct furnaces and forges of the Weald. The bed was originally of great extent, no less than six or seven acres of it (varying in depth from two to ten feet) having been ah'eady removed for the useful purpose referred to in the note. A few days prcAdously to Mr. Turner's visit, the labourers had opened, in the middle of this field, a kind of grave, about twelve feet in depth, at the bottom of which lay a considerable quantity of broken Roman pottery, evidently the re- mains of a regular funeral deposit. The superin- cumbent stratification was as follows : the ground had been excavated, first, through about one foot of earth, then tlirough a layer of cinders, two feet in thickness, and, lastly, through about eight or nine feet of earth. The cavity had been filled up entirely with cinders. The digging had been carried on many months pre- viously to Mr. Turner's investigations. About two years before, the foundations of a building, measuring according to the statement of the workmen about 30 feet by 12 were uncovered. They were very rudely consti'ucted of stone, and lay about six feet beneath the surface. A human skeleton, in a very perfect ROMAN IRON-WORKS AT MARESFIELD. 89 state, was discovered at the same time, but it crumbled to dust on exposure to the air. Mr. BaiTatt, the sun'eyor, by Avhom the workmen are employed, informs me that he has seen several skeletons exhumed from the cinder-bed, in which the bodies had been interred as in ordinary soil. If these were Roman interments — which can scarcely be ques- tioned — we are led to suppose that they were made long subsequently to the original deposit of scoriae, since a recently -formed cinder-bed would have been a very im- likely spot to l)c selected for the bm'ial of the dead. The fail' inference from these considerations is, that the iron-works at this place were carried on by the Romans diu-ing a long series of years. So extremely numerous are the remains of Roman pottery on the spot, that scarcely a barrow-load of cinders is driven out that does not contain several fragments of it. Hardly any of the vessels have been found entire, — a circumstance not to be wondered at, when we consider their fragile nature and the great weight of the superincumbent cinders. At the Sussex Archaeological Society's annual meet- ing, held at Lewes in August 1848, 1 had the pleasure of exhibiting a collection of the various articles dis- covered during the progress of the digging; it is hardly necessary to add that many others had been overlooked, while many more had been thrown away as useless by the labourers, or sold for a trifle to casual passers-by, previously to the examination of the spot by competent obseiTcrs. The objects most worthy of attention which have been rescued from destruc- tion are — 1. Coins, in second brass, of Nero, Vespasian, and Tetricus, and a fragment, much oxidized, of one of Dioclesian. Some have undergone the action of fire. 90 IRON-WORKS OF THE SOUTH. and cannot be identified. The Vespasian is of the most common occuiTcnce.^ 2. A brass fibula. Portions of other fibulae, and of armillse, were noticed by Mr. Tm-ner, 3. Fragments of coarse fictde vessels, principally domestic. The pottery of this kind is in great quan- tities, and of great variety as regards shape, colour, and fineness. Several fragments of the vessels known as mortaria have the potters^ names boldly stamped upon them, particularly IVCVN (forJucmidus?) andEVAI. 4. Fragments of fine red or Samian ware, both figured and plain. Several of these likewise bear potters' marks or stamps, particularly OF. (ofiicina) MIRAVI, and IVAN or IVANI. Fig. 1. Fig. 1 is a beautiful shallow cup, 3| inches in dia- ^ The coins wliicli I have inspected are as follows : Nero (a.d. 54-68), two. Vespasian (69-79), about eight or ten. Tetricus (cii'c. 274), one. Dioclesian (284-286), one or two. Of those which cannot be appropriated, some may belong to the intei-vening emperors. Until recently, the labourers have regarded these valuable relies as " old halfpence ;" and, according to their own unsophisticated statement, "c/i«e^e(i" them away, " because the letters on 'em was pretty near ruhhed out !" DISCOVERIES AT MARESFIELD. 91 meter, and adorned upon the rim with the peculiar ornament of such frequent occurrence on Roman ware, and generally l^elievcd to represent the i\y-leaf. Figures 2 and 3 are also fragments of Samian. The man on Fig, 3 appears to be in the act of throwing the discus, a well-known Roman game. Fig. 2. Fig. 3. I have caused these objects to be engraved, less from the idea that they exhibit any peculiarity, than for the purpose of pro\ing that their workmanship is unquestionably Roman. 5. Fragments of glass. 6. Pieces of sheet-lead full of nail-holes, some of which had fragments of wood adhering to them. Much broken brick was also found. 7. An implement of mixed metal, very hard ; pro- bably a stylus. Length, 5i inches. In the absence of further c\ndence, I am unwilling to speculate largely upon the date of the commence- 93 IRON-WORKS OF THE SOUTH. ment of tliese iron-works ; but from the preponderance of the coins of Vespasian, we may hazard a conjecture that it took place during the reign of that emperor, or his successor, Titus, at a time when Agricola, then governor of Britain, was successfully introducing the arts of ci\'ilization into this island. That the works were still carried forward in Dioclesian's time is clear, from the coin of that monarch. It is worthy of remark, that the Romans would appear, so far at least as the evidence of the discovery under notice goes, to have been but imperfectly ac- quainted with the art of smelting ores.* The scoriae at jNIaresfield retain a far greater proportion of the metal than the cinders of other beds in the neigh- bom'hood, and are, on that account, much more valuable for the purpose of road-making. Since the discoveries at Maresfield, I have been fur- nished with further proofs of the fact that the Romans availed themselves of the iron of Sussex. From the information of Robert INIercer, Esq., of Sedlescombe, it appears that many Roman coins have l)een found in a cinder-bed in that parish, on the land of Richard Smith, Esq. They have generally been greatly corroded, and some have evidently been burnt, as at Maresfield. All knowledge of the fact that iron- works had ever existed on the spot was lost until the discovery of the cinder -bed. Roman coins have also been met with upon the site of iron-works on the property of Hercules Sharpe, Esq., at Westfield, in * Tlie greatest iron-works carried on by the Romans in this country were in Gloucestershire. So extensive were these works, and so imperfect the smelting, that in the sixteenth and following centuries the u'on-masters, instead of digging for ore, resorted to the beds of scoriae for theii* principal supply of the metal, — Encycl. Britan. in voc. " Iron." IROX USED BY THE BRITONS. 93 the same neigliboui'hood. I am also assured that fragments of pottery, apparently Roman, were found, some years smce, in a cinder-bed in the parish of Cliiddingly. In October, 1853, a first-brass coin of Faustina was found in a cinder-bank at Poundslev, in the parish of Framfield. It is not improbable that the u'on of Sussex was wrought in times even anterior to the conquest of this island by the Romans. Previously to the advent of Caesar, the inhabitants of Britain must have made a considerable advance in the arts of civilization. To have subjugated the horse, and to have made such proficiency in many of the details of military science as the conqueror of Gaid found to his cost that they possessed, may well assert for them a degree of refine- ment quite at variance with the too generally received opinion, that they were mere savages and barbarians. If the use of iron be taken as the point at which pure barbarism ends and civilization begins, the ancient Britons had certainly passed that point, as the formi- dable scythes attached to the axles of theii' chariots sufficiently prove, to say nothing of the chariots themselves, which obviously were not made A\ithout the use of iron tools. Csesar mentions that the cur- rency of the people consisted partly of iron rings, adjusted to a certain Aveight [utuntur aut (Ere aut amiulis ferreis, ad certum ponclus examinatis, pro nummo), and, as he states, in the same breath, that their brass was imported {are utuntur import at a), it may reasonably be inferred that their iron was of home manufacture. And assuming that such was the case, the iron of our wealds could hardly have escaped notice. However great the error of Csesar in asserting that Britam produced but little iron {nascitur ibi in 94 IRON-WORKS OF THE SOUTH. maritimis \regionibus] Ferrum ; sed ejus exigua est copia^), his allusion is useful as proving his knowledge of tlic fact that the island was not destitute of this invaluable mineral. And how he became acquainted Anth that fact, except from the information of the Eritous themselves, it would be difficult to determine. It may be further remarked that the " maritime regions" referred to by him were, in all probability, the wealds of Kent and Sussex. The extent of the knowledge of the Romans with regard to the mineral productions of Britain in those after times when their power was well established here, is a subject worthy of a fuller investigation than has hitherto been made. Tacitus tells us that Britain produces "gold, silver, and other metals;" Pliny alludes to the smelting of iron in this pro^Tince ; and Solinus not only mentions the British iron, but speci- fies the agricultural and other implements fabricated from it in his time. The researches of modern geology and archseology have confirmed these statements. Sir H. T. de la Beche has found gold in the quartz formation of Gogofau, near Lampeter, in the vici- nity of a traditional Roman settlement. Enormous- mounds of broken and pounded quartz remain to attest the labour expended in the acquisition of the precious metal.^ Silver is still found in Devonshire and Comw all ; and it was probably there that the silver mentioned by Tacitus was procured. The tin of Corn- wall (the album plumbum of Caesar and Pliny) was known before the verj^ name of Rome existed. Pigs of lead, stamped with Roman inscriptions, have fre- quently been found in Derbyshire and elsewhere, 5 De BeJl. Gall. lib. v, cap. 12. " Tide ' Thoughts on Ancient lletallurgr,' &c., by John Phillips, Esq., F.R.S., G.S. Yorkshire Philos. Soc, March, 1848. Romans' kxowledge of our metals. 95 Four such pigs of British lead were found at Pul- borough, in Sussex, in 1824. Our copper, too, was well known to the Romans, and, as I believe, to the primitive Celtic race who preceded them. A due ad- mLxture of this metal with tin forms the imperishable bronze of which the instruments called " celts ^' are composed. With regard to the seven or eight centuries which succeeded the departure of the Romans from Britain, history and archaeology seem alike silent on the subject of the iron of the South. It can scarcely be doubted, however, that the Romanized Britons retained this most useful art of smelting and working iron, and that the Anglo-Saxons, after them, continued it upon the old sites. Further examinations of our cinder-beds may hereafter bring to light Romano-British and Saxon remains, and prove for those peoples what Maresfield has proved for the Romans. In the meantime we are perhaps justified in assuming that when so valuable and necessary a manufacture had been once introduced, it would be retained so long as the three essentials for its perpetuation, the ore, the fuel, and the flux, con- tinued in sufficient abimdance of supply ; in other words, that the iron-trade of the South was carried on uninterruptedly from Roman times till its extinction, in consequence of the failure of fuel, almost within our own recollection. It is proper, however, to obsen^e, that the trade, if in existence here at the date of Domesday Book, was very unimportant, since that invaluable record makes no mention of iron under the comity of Sussex, though it does mider those of Somerset, Hereford, Gloucester, Cheshire, and Lincoln. Perhaps the earliest actual record of the iron-trade in the South is contained in the murage-grant made 96 IRON-WORKS OF THE SOUTH. by Henry III to the town of Lewes. 7 This grant, which is dated 1.266, empowers the inhabitants to raise tolls for the repair of the town Avails after the battle.^ Every cart laden vrith. iron from the neighbouring Weald, for sale, paid one penny toll, and every horse- load of iron, half that sum. From that period we have data, however slight, for the history of the manu- facture. In 1290 a payment was made for the iron work of the monument of Henry III in Westminster Abbey, to Master Henry of Lewes.^ Some years previously, the name of a Master Henry of Lewes, probably the same person, appears in connexion with iron work for the king's chamber.^" In 7th Edward I, iron appears to have been smelted on St. Leonard's Forest, and the works were after- wards carried on by the Crown. In 1300, according to Stowe,ii the ferrones, or ironmongers of London made complaint to Elia Russell, mayor of London, that the smiths of the Avealds [fabri de waldis) brought in ii'ons for wheels, which were much shorter than they ought, according to custom, to be, to the great " A letter, written between the years 1233-1244 to Ealph, Eishop of Chicliester, by his steward, Sunon de Seiiliz, appears to mihtate against the existence of the iron-trade, at least in the western part of Sussex, at that period. It relates to an order from the bishop to one H. de Kynard for the purchase of iron (" x marcas de minuto ferro, si invenui potest, sire autem, v marcas de gi'osso, et v marcas de minuto ferro"), to be procured in the neighbourhood of Glouces- ter, and thence conveyed to the domus hospitis at Winchester ; an order which would scarcely have been necessary, if the iron-works whicli in the next century we iind witliin a few miles of Chichester? had then been in operation. The letter is among the Tower MSS., No. 677. ** Blaauw's Barons' War. Horsfield's Lewes. 9 Househ. Exp. Eot. Mis. 56, 17. 1" Devon's Issues of Excheq. " Survey of Lond. FOURTEENTH CENTURY. 97 scandal and loss of the whole trade of ironmongers ; and required a remedy, which was accordingly granted. From some incidental notices occurring about this period^ it appears that the iron manufactured near the Sussex coast was conveyed to London by water — a proof of the impassable state of the roads in those davs. In the 13th year of Edward II, Peter de Walshara, sherift' of Sm'rey and Sussex, by virtue of a precept from the king's exchequer, made a pro^ision of horse- shoes, and nails of diflcrcnt sorts [providencias de ferris eqaorum et clavispro eisdem, diversimodefubrice), for the expedition against the Scots. The number furnished on the occasion was 3000 horse-shoes and 29,000 nails, and the expense of their purchase, from various places within the sheriffs jurisdiction, and their delivery in London, by the hands of John de Norton, clerk, was .t;14. 13^. lOi/.'^ The Nonae return for the parish of Lynch in "West- ern Sussex proves the existence of the iron trade there in 134'2. It also affords an early instance of metals being subject to tithes : " Item, decima ferri ecclesiffi prsedictte valet per annum decern solidi." The rector likewise received ten shillings for the tithe of iron ore.^^ A curious specimen of the iron manufacture of the fourteenth centmy, and, as far as my own observation extends, the oldest existing article produced by our foundries, occurs in Burwash chm'ch. It is a cast-iron slab, with an ornamental cross, and an inscription in relii'f. In the opinion of several eminent antiquaries, it may be regarded as unique for the style aiid period. '- Wardrobe Account, Edward II. Carlton Eide MSS. '=' Dallaway's Rape of Chichester, p. 300. 5 98 IRON-WORKS OF THE SOUTH. The inscription is much injured by long exposure to the attrition of human feet. The letters are Longo- bardic, and the legend appears, on a careful examina- tion, to be : — ORATE P. ANNEMA JHONE COLINE (or COLINS.) " Pray for the soul of Joan Collins." Of the identity of the individual thus commemorated I have been unable to glean any particulars. In all probability she was a member of the ancient Sussex family of Collins, subsequently seated at Socknersh, in the adjacent parish of Brightling, where, in com- mon mth many of the neighbouring gentry, they car- ried on the manufacture of iron, at a place still known as Socknersh Fm^nace. The manufacture probably continued to increase diu'ing the fifteenth century, though that supposition is based more upon the flourishing state in which we find the trade in the early part of the sixteenth, than upon documentary evidence or archaeological remains. A few relics of the latter portion of this pe- riod are, however, to be met with. Among these should probal)ly be included a singular object, preserved at the archiepiscopal palace of Mayfield, to which my attention has kindly been drawn by Albert Way, Esq., who conjectures it to be a mustard-mill. It is about 9| inches square, with a hemispherical basin, at the bottom of which is a circular hole, an inch in diameter. It has four projections, like handles, by which it was probably worked.^* To this date also '■* The well-known objects preserved at Mayfield palace as genuine relics of St. Dunstan, seem to refer as much to the iron-trade, so famous of old in these parts, as to the alleged proficiency of the saint in the craft of a blacksmith. They consist (besides an old- ANDIRONS. 99 belong a few of the andirons and cbininey-l)acks wliicli remain to attest the taste and skill of our local founders. The accompanying cut represents one of a pair of andirons from Eastbourne, now in my posses- sion. From the form of the shield, upon which the sacred monogram (})£» appears, it probably belongs to the reign of Edward IV. Another specimen of the same type was formerly preserved at Nether field Toll fashioned sword) of an anvil, a pair of tongs, and a liannncr. The anvil and tongs are of no gi-eat antiquity, but the hammer, with its solid iron handle, looks like a genuine relic of medieval times. The massive hand-rail of the great stone staircase is ano- ther interesting specimen of the local manufacture. I may add tliat it was probably here, upon the archiepiscopal manor, that tlie iron copings of Rochester bridge, presented to tliat city early in the sixteenth centm-y hy thv primate AVarham, were manufactured. 100 IRON-WORKS OF THE SOUTH. farmhouse^ in tlic parish of Battel. At Miclielham Priory are a pair of andirons of extremely interesting character, which are believed to have formerly occupied the curious antique chimney-piece in the apartment l.C.MAftTlN.S*- traditionally known as the "Prior's Chamber." They terminate in a human head, and the fashion of the head-dress fixes their date not later than the reign of Henry VII. The series of Sussex andirons ranges from the end of the fifteenth century to that of the seventeenth, or later, and dming the whole of that period a regular decadence in the style of their devices is strikingly observable. In many of the old farm- houses, where, either from motives of economy, or from a predilection for old manners, the good wife, like the one celebrated by Horace, — " Sacrum vetustis exstruat Kgnis focum, Lassi sub adventiun viii," these venerable and picturesque articles of furniture ANDIRONS. 101 retain the post they have occupied for centuries. And could the uncouth heads, with which they arc frequently decorated, open their mouths to reveal the forgotten past, how many a tale could they unfold of the scenes of homely felicity and of domestic wretchedness, which have transpired around them ! ^^ The chimney- backs are not generally of so ancient a date as the andirons, though one or two specimens may probably be referred to the fifteenth century. Others of a later style have some details belonging to this period, pro\dng that the founders preserved the models which had been employed by their predecessors. Thus a "back'' at Buxted (belonging to Mr. T. Wickens), which bears the badge and initials of Queen Eliza- beth, is decorated with a band composed of grapes and \dne-leaves, in a running pattern, belonging to a considerably earlier date ; and I have met with simi- lar instances elsewhere. The sacred monogram t!)S occurs on the shield, which is almost uniformly introduced into the design of the andirons, up to the time of the Reformation, Avhen it is generally superseded by a coat of arms, or some other device. Overleaf is one of a pair belonging to Mr. Wickens, of Buxted : it was probably cast in the early part of the sixteenth century. At the Sergisson's Arms public-house, Hayward's Heath, is a very large pair, ornamented in a rather singular manner. The shield, which occupies the ordinary position at the insertion of the legs, bears the arms '^ I employ the word Andiron as a term generally knowni. The Promptorium Parv^ulorum has " Awnderne, Awndyryn, Awndym." Vide Way's Prompt. Farv. Camd. See. in voc. The etjnnology is uncertain. In Sussex, the word more generally employed is either Brand-doffs, or Brand-irons, the latter from the Anglo-Saxon "Brand- isen" or " Brand-iren ;" an interesting example of the local retention of an ancient word which has grown out of general use. LIBRARY UNIVER.TJA"DA 102 IRON-WORKS OF THE SOUTH. of France^ a favourite device on our iron-works ; and above it, on another shield attached to the pillar or stem of the andiron, is the legend K JjoltJ OIX, The letters E.F. above, and the G.B.C. below, may be the initials of the founder, and of the person for whom they were made, with, perhaps, that of his place of residence. With respect to the meaning of the legend, there is much scope for conjecture : perhaps it should be read "Jesus Holy One.'' If this be a correct interpretation, it affords another instance of the vulgar misapprehension of the meaning of the Greek THE, the very ancient contraction of 'Ivi^-ou?, corrupted during the middle ages to I.H.S. or i()S, and interpreted to signify " Jesus, hominum Salvator." Sometimes the S was taken to be a C, and the l!)C was read "Jesus, hominum Consolator." These misapprehensions originated with the clergy, who were, in those days, generally unac- HOOPED CANNONS. 103 quaiuted with Greek; but the vulgar, who were equally unlearned in Latin^ had their reading also, and made I.H.S. stand for "Jesus Holy Saviour/' which is still retained as its meaning by the illiterate in Sussex. When the monogram took the form of \\)t, the last letter might be easily mistaken for an 0, and in this way, I am disposed to believe, the founder made it the initial of " one/' and thus developed a neAV theory upon this dm vexata quastio by producing the " Jesus Holy One/' upon this andiron. I must add, however, a suggestion made since the original publication of this memoir, namely, that the legend is simply / holp or help on, alluding to the usefulness of an andiron. To return to the history of the manufacture. There is little doubt that ordnance was made in this county in the fifteenth centmy. It is believed that some of the old l)anded guns of wrought ii'on preserved in the Tower of London, and elsewhere, and dating so far back as the reign of Henry VI, were of Sussex manu- facture. In the tenth volume of the ' Archseologia,'^" is an engra^dng, from a drawing by James Lambert, jun., of a mortar, formerly at Eridge Green, in the parish of Frant, and the account given of it is as follows : "It has always been understood that this mortar was the first that was made in England [It] now lies at Eridge Green, and has served for many years for the amusement of the people on a holiday or fair-day, when they collect money to buy gun- powder to throw the shell to a hill about a mile distant. The weight of the shell sinks it so deep into the earth, that it costs no little pains to dig it out 1" Page 472 (Juiie, 1790). 104 IRON-WORKS OF THE SOUTH. after eacli discliarge, whicli is repeated as long as the money lasts. The chamber of the gun is cast-iron, the other part, as is evident, wrought.^' From the engraving, the chamber appears to have been polygonal, and the tube to have consisted of many small bars or rods, bound together by nine hoops. This was the original method of constructing these tremendous engines of war.i7 A French writer, St. Remy, says, " Qu'elles ne consistoient qu'en de fortes tables de fer qu^on disposoit a peu pres cylindriquement, les serront avec de cercles de fer.^^^^ There can be no reasonable doubt that the Eridge gun was of Sussex manufacture ; and it is equally pro- bable that many, if not most, of the pieces employed by our armies in the continental wars of the four- teenth and fifteenth centuries were the productions of the southern iron- works. These hooped guns were at length superseded by cannons cast in an entire piece, and bored, as at the present day. The invention of gun-founding is ascribed to the French, who appear to have used cast pieces many years before the introduction of the art into this country. The first iron cannons cast in England were manufactured at Buxted, in Sussex, by Ralph Hoge or Hogge, in 1543 (35 Henry VIII). ^9 This founder employed, as his assistant, Peter Baude, a Frenchman, whom he had probably brought over to teach him the improved method ; and Peter Van 17 Eor a very able and interesting account of ancient ordnance, see a paper by C. D. Archibald, Esq., F.R.A.S., &c., in Archwologia, vol. xxviii, p. 373. Our historians generally assert that cannon were first employed at the battle of Crecy, in 134-6 : but Mr. Ai-cliibald adduces strong reasons for the belief that they had been previously xised by Edward III in his expedition against the Scots in 1327. 1^ Artillerie, 1, viii, quoted in Archaeologia, vol. xxviii, p. 380. 19 Holinshed, ii, 960.— " Bucksteed." CANNON FIRST CAST BY HOGGE. 105 Collet, a Flemish gunsmith, about the same time, "devised and cast mortar pieces from 11 to 19 inches bore ; for the use whereof they caused to be made bombs, or certain hollow shot, of cast iron, to be stuffed with fireworks, &c. And after the king's return from Bullcn, the said Peter Bawde, by himself, in 1 Edward VI, made ordnance of cast iron, of divers sorts, as faioconets, fawcons, minions, sakers, and other pieces." It seems that Baude's connection witli Hogge was of no long continuance ; for we find that " John Johnson, covenant serv^^t to the said P. Bawd, succeeded and exceeded his master in this his art of casting ordnance, making them cleaner and to better perfection. And his son, Thomas Johnson, a special workman, in and before the year 1595, made 42 cast pieces of great ordnance of iron, for the Earl of Cumberland, weighing 6000 lbs., or three tons a-piece." -'^ Whether Sussex was the scene of these operations, however, does not appear. The family of Hogge resided at a place near Buxted Church, called, fi'om their rebus or " name-device," still existing over the front door, the Hog-hovse, and now the property of Colonel Harcourt. They were connected with the business of gun-founding for at least three generations. About the 16th of Elizabeth (1574), Bryan Hogy held the office of Clerk -« Hayley's MSS., British Museum. 5§ 106 IRON-WORKS OF THE SOUTH. of the Deliveries, with a fee of £18. 5^. per annum ; and his successor was George Hogg.-^ The name of Hogge or Hogge seems to have been confounded with that of Huggett; and there is a place on the confines of Buxted and Mayfield, called Huggett's Furnace, where, according to tradition, the first iron ordnance was cast. The traditionary distich that " fflnstcr lljuggrtt nnJj \)\% man Safjn, Cfjru iJtti cast tijc first Can^itott," is firmly believed in Ifie locality.-- But to return : Peter Baude, the associate of Ralph Hogge, did not limit his exertions to iron pieces. Some fine specimens of brass or " gun-metal " ord- nance from his hand are still extant. One John Owen, it seems, had, at a somewhat earlier date (1521, Stowe — 1535, Camden), made great brass ordnance, as can- nons and culverines.2^ Whether this man did not suc- ceed, or whether he died previously to 1543, is not mentioned, but at that date Baude was busily engaged in the fabrication of brass guns, two of which still re- main in the Tower of London collection. One of these is an elegant octagonal piece, adorned with the royal arms, the fleur-de-lis, and the king^s initial " H," surmounted by a crown, with the date 1543, and the ^' Strjpe'a Stowe's London, vol. i, p. 107. 22 As an instance of the tenacity with which families sometimes adhere to a particular vocation, it may be mentioned that many per- sons of the name of Huggett still carry on the trade of blacksmiths in East Sussex. •23 " Tbere are now at Woolwich several guns lately recovered from the wreck of the ' Mary Rose,' wliich was sunk at Spithead in 1545 ; and among them two large brass cannons, the one a 68, the other a 24 pounder, which, in beauty of design and workmansliip, are equal to anything that coidd be produced in the present day." — Archseo- logia (ut supra). PETER BAUDE. 107 initial of tlie founder's name, " V>," over the touch- hole.-* The other is a very fine specimen of the " triple chamber piece/' which was unfortunately broken into several pieces, and otherwise mutilated, by the fire of 1811. It is 6^ feet in length, and has three bores, 2^ inches in diameter. Its upper surface is ornamented with the Tudor badge of the rose and crown, the latter supported by Cupids ; and Avith the kind of arabesque device prevalent at this period. Beneath the badge is the legend — HENEICYS OCTAVVS DEI GRACIA ANGLIE ET FRAJSTCIE REX FIDEI DEFENSOR DNS HIBEKlE. near the muzzle — POVR DEFENDRE ; and at the opposite end — PETRYS . BAVDE . GALLVS . OPERIS . ARTIFEX. Among the Battel Abbey Deeds -^ is a document called ' Westalle's Book of Pannyngrydge, A° regni Regis Hen. VIII, xxx^dij" (1546) . It is the account- book of some iron-master, and exhibits his expendi- ture in carrying on an extensive trade dm*ing the year indicated. Among the items are payments made to the wood-cutters for ^^coards" of Avood, at 3c?. per coard. The "collcars," or charcoal- iiurners, were paid in Avood, and money for coals, at the rate of 22d. per load. There are also charges for the car- riage of coals out of Pannyngrydge, Olyver's Wood, and Asyldey, at id. and Qd. a load ; and for the " moyne digged out of Pannyngrydge." " Moyne " 2^ Hewitt's History of the Tower, 12mo, 1841. 25 Formerly in the possession of the Webster family, now in that of Sir Thomas Phillipps, of Middle Hill ; a most raluable collection of Sussex MSS., bound in 97 folio volumes. 108 IRON-WORKS OF THE SOUTH. was, of course, the iron ore, still called " iron-mine," and giving name to many spots, as "Mine-pit Field," " Mine-pit Shaw," &c. The price of digging was Id. per load ; and many payments to " Black Jack," and others, occur in these accounts. Several sums are paid to Warnet, the founder, and to Antliony, the " filler." One entry shows the locality where these operations were can'ied on : " For carying of lodes of sand from Pannyngrydge unto my forge at llobertsbridije, at x^-jd. the lode." There are further sums paid to Mr. Chanceller for the farm of his woods at Pannyngrydge, and to the parson of Penherst for the farm of the phurner (fur- nace) pond there, and for tithe. Also for the hewing and felling of timber, " for drawing of timbre to the saw-stage," &c. The accounts close with an entry of \s. \d. paid " for a wrytte and a warrant for Jackson, the carpenter."-'' The manufactm-e of hea^y ordnance gave a great impulse to the non trade. Many foreigners were brought over to cany on the works. This perhaps may accomit for the number of Frenchmen and Germans whose names appear in our parish registers about the middle of the sixteenth century. oSTew works were established, and ultimately almost every landed proprietor in the districts where the ore was found became an ii'on-master. Among the persons engaged in the trade at this period, was Richard Woodman, one of the ten Protestant martjTs burnt at Lewes in 1557. He was a native of Buxted, where he probably learned the business. At the time of his apprehension, at the beginning of Queen Mary^s reign, he resided at Warbleton, and carried on an extensive ^ Vide Thorpe's Descriptive Catalogue of the Muniments of Battel A.bbeT, 8to, London, 1835. ARISTOCRATIC IRON-MASTERS. 109 trade. In one of his examinations before the Bishop of Winchester, he says, " Let me go home, I pray you, to my ^ife and children, to see them kept, and other poore folke that I woukl set aworke, by the helpe of God. I have set aworke a hundreth persons, ere this, all the yeare together," "^ Several Sussex families, enriched bv the iron manufacture, assumed the rank of gentry about this time. This rapid growth of the trade in the wealds of Sussex and Kent was viewed with disfavour by many. Archbishop Parker, writing to Queen Elizabeth in 1570, says : " Sir Richard Sackville intends, as I was credibly informed, in this wood [Longbeech Wood, in Westwell, Kent] to erect up certain iron mills, which plague, if it shall come into the country, I fear it will breed much grudge and desolation." ~^ It is curious to find about this time the ancestors of many of the existing representatives of what is called the " lauded interest" busily employed in the iron trade — and to trace their augmentation of wealth by this means. In the days of Elizabeth, the Ashbm-nhams, the Pelhams, the Montagues, the Nevilles, the Sidneys, the Sackvilles,theDacres,the Stanleys, the Finches, the Gages, and even the Percys and the Howards, did not disdain such lucre, but pursued it to the destruction of old ancestral oak and beech, and with all the apparent ardour of Birmingham and Wolverhampton men of these times. We may add after these, the Culpepers, the Dykes, the Barrels, the Apsleys, the Coverts, the Morleys, the Shirleys, the BuiTclls, the Greshams, the BuUens (kinsmen of royalty), the Gratwickes, tlie Bakers, and the Fullers. Concerning the last-men- tioned there is a foolish tradition that the first of the name and family in Sussex gained his Avealth by ^ John Foxe, Acts and Mon., Ed. 1570, p. 2192. ^ Strype's Life of ^Irchbishop Parker, p. 315. 110 IRON-WORKS OF THE SOUTH. liawking nails about the county on the backs of donkeys ! This is absui'd ; but at the same time it is generally understood that the family were greatly enriched by the manufacture — a fact which is indeed frankly avowed in their singular motto : " Carbone et foi'cipibus.'^ About 1572 much ordnance was exported, in con- sequence of the Lord Admiral having granted a license for that purpose to Sir Thomas Leighton, who had made use of one Garret Smith to obtain it of the admiral, and who was, in return for his intervention, to enjoy the deputyship, with a foui'th part of the pro- fits y^ " but the merchants of London, knowing how this might furnish the enemies^ ships to obstruct their trade, and bring other gi'eat damages upon the queen and her subjects, petitioned her, in a great body, to withdraw this license." The petition was not pre- sented (" whether it were shuffled off by some about the queen") ; however, they petitioned again, and in Sept. 1572, a proclamation strictly restrained all transport of iron and brass ordnance, and forbade the owners of all iron- works, fm'naces, or forges, to make any kind of ordnance larger than a minion. The following year a declaration was made to the council, of the great consumption of oaken wood in Sussex, Surrey, and Kent by the iron mills and furnaces. -^^ In the State Paper Office, Jan. 1574 (No. 15), there is a petition from Ralphe Hogge, " manufacturer of guns and shot for the Ordnance office," to the council, complaining of the infringement of the patent granted by the queen, for the sole exportation of ordnance ; whereupon a retiu'n was procm'cd on February 15th following (No. 18), gi'V'ing a list of the owners of -9 Strype's Stowe, vol. ii, p. 293. 30 State Paper Office, 1573 (No. 96). CANNON SMUGGLED ABROAD. Ill iron-works in the three counties. The chief men Avere summoned before the council^ and from the others bonds were taken, under a penalty of j£2000 not to found or sell ordnance without license from the queen. In defiance of these measures, however, the surrep- titious exportation of Sussex cannon went on for some years longer. In 1587, the Earl of Warwick, master of the ordnance, despatched " a gentleman of his, one Mr. Bliucoe/^ into Sussex, to summon all the gun- founders of the county up to London, to understand his pleasure respecting their further continuance of the manufactm-e. " Henry Nevel, and the rest of that occupation," obeyed the summons, and the mat- ter was referred to the arrangement of Mr. Hockenal, the deputy-master of the ordnance, and INIr. Blincoe. The residt was, that a fixed quantity of cannon should be cast annually, for the necessaiy provision of our 0"\vn navigation; a certain proportion being allowed to each founder. It was also stipulated that no ordnance should be sold except in the city, and not even there but to such merchants " as my lord or his deputy should name." ^^ The bonds into which the iron-masters entered on this occasion seem to have been little regarded by them ; for on August 8th, 1589, Thomas Lord Buck- hurst Avrote a letter to the justices of Lewes Rape, complaining of their neglect. " Their lordshypps doe see the little regard the owners of furnaces and the makers of these pecces have of their bondes, and how yt importeth the state that the enemy of her majesty should not be furnished oute of the lande with ord- nance to annovc us." The lord-treasurer goes on to direct the magistrates to enforce the provisions of the master of the ordnance. Another letter, from the same officer to the justices of the three eastern ■" Strype's Stowe, vol. i, p. 108. 112 IRON-WORKS OF THE SOUTH. rapes, dated 6th October, 1590, dii-ects them as to "straighter restraint of making shott and ordnance,^' and to take bonds of £1000 each of eveiy fiu'nace- owncr and farmer ; and also to forward their bonds, and a list of their names, to him with all convenient speed.32 To return to the arcJueology of our subject : the eastern di^dsion of Sussex still abounds with speci- mens of the workmanship of the sixteenth century, particularly andii'ons and chimney-backs. Some of these are decorated with fanciful devices, and others Avith armorial bearings. The royal arms and badges are of the most usual occurrence. At Riverhall, in the parish of Wadhm^st, is one of the former class. It probably belongs to the early part of this century. Besides the royal arms — France and England quar- terly, with supporters — and the Tudor badge of the rose and crown four times repeated, it exhibits a crown- ed shield, charged with the initials E. H., probably those of the original proprietor, and ten human figui'es, with mon- key or doglike heads (perhaps intended for "mummers"), and two swords. The back is of large dimensions, and the figures which make up its fanciful device were evidently impressed separately m the sand from the same models. According to tradition, this curious article was cast at a Andiron at Old Land fumacc ou the cstatc. I may Farm, Maresfield. alsomeutioutwoother "backs" 32 These letters are printed in full in Horsfield's Lewes, i, 192. CHIMNEY-BACKS. 113 of tliis century. The first, much mutilated, has the royal arms, su})ported hy a dragon and a greyhound, with the initials E. K.., ])rol)ably for Edward VI. The side ornaments are a dragon's head, the rose-en-soleil and the double rose. The orthography of the royal motto, DV ET MOYN DR— , and of that of the garter, HONY SOYT QYE MAL Y PAVNC, be- speak it the work of an unlettered artisan, and the inscription beneath the shield exhibits the name of the founder, III ^USSfX — BtJ 3o\}n %WmB (or Hawo — , perhaps intended for llaworth, but incom- plete for want of room). Another "back" has the badge and supporters of Queen Elizabeth, and the legend — "THOMAS VNSTEAD, ISFILD, AND DINIS niS WIF, AXO DOMINO, 1582." A third specimen, in the possession of Captain Richai'dson, of Sutton Hurst, has the badge and supporters of Queen Elizabeth, and the legend : "THIS . IS . EOF. . lAMES . HIDE . AND . JON . HIS . MIF . 1582." A very singular type of chimney-back is found in some old houses in Sm'rey, and there is a specimen in the Sussex Archseological Society's Museimi at Lewes. It is of the ordinary shape, and has the common ornaments of the period, and this inscription : HER, : LIETH : ANE : EORST R : DAYGHTER : AND : HEYR : TO : THOMAS GAYNSEORD : ESQYIER DECEASED : XYIII : OE lANVARI : 1591 : LEAYING BEHIND : HER : II SONES AND : Y : DAYGHTERS. 114 IRON-WORKS OF THE SOUTH. In Crowliurst Churchy Surrey, an iron slab bearing this inscription with some accessories, covers the remains of the lady whose memory it records. It is evidently cast fi'om the same mould as the " backs ;" but the reason for thus publishing the lady^s heirship to the ancient line of Gaynsford on the hearths of strangers is not easily to be adduced. Many of the andirons of this period have the arms of the families for whom they were cast embossed upon then shields. The accompanying example, from a sketch by Mr. C. Howard Ellis, is in the possession of Mr. Marchant, of Hurstperpoint, It was brought from Slaugham Place, the seat of the Coverts, but bears the arms of the Kentish family of Cromer. It Avill be observed tliat this specimen has nothing of the "Gothic" or medieval character of the earlier examples. The founders uniformly imitated the archi- tectural details of their respective eras. The left-hand andiron next s\\ov>ai, from a sketch ANDIRONS. ]15 by Mr. William Figg, is at Rowfant, in the parish of Worth. The date is 1591. The arms are those of the family of Ashburnhara, and the ornament upon the pillar is a rude attempt at their punning crest — an ash-tree springing from a ducal coronet. This is doubtless a production of the Ashburnham furnace. The other is a mutilated andiron at the Crow and Gate public-house^ near Crowborough^ and is orna- mented with emlilems of the smith or farrier's occu- pation displayed upon the shield. The great extent which the manufacture had now reached threatened an evil which had to be warded off by legislative enactments — I mean the annihilation of timber in the Weald. Up to a certain period the destruction of trees and underwood had been bene- ficial in clearing the land for agricultm-al purposes ; ^ ^ lu illustration of this remark it may be mentioned, that in 30 Edward III, one Robert de Dole died possessed, infer alia, of sixty acres of land at Billingshurst, wliicli was declared to be worth only 10*. per annum, or 2d. per acre, because tlie land was barren and lay in the Weald ("et jacet in Wealdd"), and was of no value to sow, on account of tlie quantity of wood (" propter magiutudinem bosci"). — Inq. post MoH. 116 IRON-WORKS OF THE SOUTH. but SO early as the reign of Henry VIII (1543), it became necessary to enact — that no wood shall be converted into pasture — that in cutting coppice-woods at twenty-four years' growth, or under, there shall be left standing and unfelled, for every acre, twelve standils or storers of oak, or in default of so many, then of elm, ash, asp, or beech — and that if the cop- pice be under fourteen years' growth, it shall be in- closed from cattle for six years ; " provided ahvays, &c., that this act do not extend or be prejudicial to any of the lords or owners of the woods, underwoods, or woodlands growing or being within any of the towns, parishes, or places commonly called or known to be within the Wilds of the counties of Kent, SiuTcy, and Sussex, other than to the common woods growing and being within any of the said Wilds," &c.^^ A series of enactments of similar character suc- ceeded. The act 1 Elizabeth, cap. 15, provides that no person shall convert into coal or other fuel for the making of iron, " any timber-trees of oak, beech, or ash of the breadth of one foot square at the stub," within fourteen miles of the sea, or the rivers Thames, Severn, &c., or any other navigable river. The county of Sussex, the weild of Kent, and the parishes of Charlewood, Newdigate, and Leigh, in the weild of Sm'rey, were however excepted from the operation of this act. The act of 23 Elizabeth, cap. 5 (1581), declares that " by reason of the late erection of sundry iron-mills in divers places," near London, and " not far distant from the Downs and sea-coasts of Sussex," decay of timber hath ensued ; and forbids, therefore, the con- verting "to coal or other fcAvel, for the making of iron-metal in any iron-mill, furnace, or hammer," ^ Statutes of the Eealm, 35 Hen. VIII, cap. 17. This act was passed for seven years, but made perpetual by 13 Eliz. c. 25. DESTRUCTION OF TIMBER. 117 any wood within twenty-tTvo miles of London, or within four miles of the foot of the hills called the Do's^iis, betwixt Arundel and Perasey, or Avithin four miles of the towns of Winchclsey and Rye, or within two miles of the town of Pemsey, or within three miles of the town of Hastings, rmder a penalty of forty shillings for every load of Avood so eraployea. " ProA-ided ahvays, that this act shall not extend to any woods growing or to grow in the weilds of SuiTcy, Sussex, and Kent," if eighteen miles from London, and eight from the Thames. It also forbids the erec- tion of any ncAV iron-works within twenty-two miles of London, or four miles of the Downs, or of the towns of Pemsey, AVinchelsey, Hastings, and Rye, upon pain of j£10. The woods of Christopher Dar- rell, gentleman, at Newdigate, in Surrey, are exempted from the force of this enactment, on the ground of their having been preserved and coppiced for the especial use of his iron-works in those parts. The act 27 Elizabeth, cap. 19 (1585), rehearses, "Whereas by the over great negligence or number of iron-works which have been and yet are in the weilds of Sussex, Surrey, and Kent, it is thought that the great plenty of timber which hath grown in those pai-ts hath been greatly decayed and spoiled, and will in short time be utterly consumed and wasted, if some convenient remedy be not timely provided," and therefore forbids the erection of any manner of iron-mill, fmnace, finary, ovblomary,^^ for the making or working of any '' For the meaning of tliese expressions see, Kay's account of the manufacture, in a subsequent page. I may add, here, that the phrase hloma ferri occurs several times in Domesday Book. " Bloma," a Saxon word, is deflned by Bosworth as " metal, a mass, lump." " Isenes-bldma, massa ferri, bloom of iron." — (First Keport of Eecord Commiss., p. 410.) 118 IRON-WORKS OF THE SOUTH. manner of iron or iron-metal," except upon ancient sites. The highways of Sussex were, at that time, as well as at a much more recent date, proverbially bad, wherefore the act aboA e cited enjoins upon all persons carmng charcoal, mines, and iron, between October and May, "for every six loads of coals or mine, or for every ton of iron, to carry one usual cart-load of cinder, gravel, stone, sand, or chalk, meet for the re- pairing or amending of the said highways." In spite of the enactments for the preservation of wood, the waste still continued. John Norden, in his ' Surveyor's Dialogue,' -'^ after referring to the statute of 35 Henry VIII, says, " but mee thinks this statute is deluded and the meaning abused ; for I have scene in many places at the fals, where indeed they leave the number of standils and more ; but in stead they cut downe them that were ■preserved before, and at the next fall them that were left to answer the statute, and yong left againe in their steads ; so that there can be no increase of timber-trees." "But," he adds, " some countries are yet Avell stored, and for the abun- dance of timber and wood were excepted in the statute, as the welds of Kent, Sussex, and Surry, which were all anciently comprehended under the name of Holmes- dale, . . . and vet he that well observes it, and hath known the welds of Sussex, Surry, and Kent, the grand niu'sery of those kind of trees, especially oake and beech, shal find such an alteration within lesse then 30 yeres, as may well strike a feare, lest few yeeres more, as pestilent as the former, vnW leave fewe good trees standing in those welds. Such a heate issueth out of the many forges and furnaces for the making of iron, and out of the glasse kilnes, as hath 35 London, 1607, p. 213. DESTRUCTION OF TIMBER. 119 devoured many famous woods within the welds; as about Burninyfold, Lopwood Greene (Loxwood), the Minns, Kirdford, Pet worth parkcs, Ebernoive, Wassals, Rusper, Balcombe, Dallinyton, the Byker, and some forestSj and other places infinite. ' Tantum sevi longinqua valet mutare vetustas.' "The force of time and men's inclination make greater changes in mightie things. But the croppe of this commodious fruit, which nature itself doth sowe, being thus reaped and cut downe by the sickle of time, hath been in some plentiful places, in regard of the superfluous abundance, rather held a hui'tfull weed than a profitable fruit, and therefore the wasting of it held providence, to the end that come, a more profit- able increase, might be brought in, in stead of it. . . . But it is to be feared that posterities will find want, where now they think is too much." To this the Baylie, one of the interlocutors of the dialogue, replies : " It is no mervaile if Sussex and other places you speak oif be deprived of this benefit ; for I have heard, there are or lately were in Sussex neere 140 hammers and furnaces for iron,^' and in it and Surry adjoining three or fom' glasse- houses ; ^ the hammers ^ It is a somewhat singular coincidence that the number of corn- mills in Sussex, at the time of the Domesday survey (finished in 1086), was 148 ; and that of iron-mills, about five centiu-ios later, 140. A great proportion of tlie latter probably occupied the sites of the former, which the introduction of windmills had caused to be deserted. ** The dearth of information regarding tlie glass manufacture in the south is much to be regretted. The Rev. E. Turner conjectures that one of the " glasse-houses " was at Marcsfield, near the site of the Roman iron-works. The scoriae found there differ considerably in character from those of the ordinary iron-works, having a more vitreous appearance. This Ixowever may result from some pecu- liarity in the flux. 120 IROX-WORKS OF THE SOUTH. and furnaces spend, each of them in every 24 houres, two, three, or foure loades of charcoale, which in a yeere amounteth to an infinit quantitie, as you can better account by your arethmetique then 1." The surveyor rejoins : " That which you say is true; but they worke not all the yeere, for many of them lacke water in the summer to bio we their bellows. And to say truth, the consuming of much of these in the weld is no such great prejudice to the weale pub- like, as is the overthrow of wood and timber in places where there is no great quantitie, for I have observed that the clensing of many of these weld grounds hath redounded rather to the benefit then to the hurt of the country ; for where woods did grow in super- fluous abundance there was lacke of pasture for kine, and arable land for corne, Avithout which a country, or country farme, cannot stand, or be releeved but by neighbour helpes, as the Downes have their wood from the weld. Beside, people bred amongst ivoocls are naturally more stubborne and uncivil, then in the champion countries ! " '^9 The quietness of oiu* beautiful Weald at the present day offers a striking contrast to the ceaseless activity and bustle which characterised it in its Iron Age, the days of the Tudors and Stuarts. Camden, speaking of Sussex, says : " Frdl of iron mines it is in sundry places, where, for the making and founding thereof, there be furnaces on every side, and a huge deal of wood is yearly burnt ; to which purpose divers brooks in many places are brought to run in one channel, and sundry meadows turned into pools and waters, that they might be of power sufficient to drive ham- mer-mills, which beating upon the iron, resomid all 29 Vide " Certificate concerning Sussex Justices," Suss. Arch. Coll. II, 60. CAMDEN AND FULLER. 121 over the places adjoining." A later edition of the Britannia (edit. 1722) gives a more graphic account : " A great deal of meadow ground is turned into ponds and pools for the dri^dng of mills by the flashes, which, beating with hammers npon the iron, fill the neigh- bourhood round about, night and day, with continual noise." " Yet," adds our great antiquarj'^, " the iron here wrought is not in every place of like goodness ; but generally more brittle than the Spanish iron ; whether it be by nature, or tincture and temper thereof. How- beit commodious enough to iron-maisters, who cast much great ordnance thereof, and other things to their no small gain. Now whether it be as gainful and profitable to the commonwealth may be doubted ; but the age ensuing will be better able to tell you." That some of the iron Tvrought here was of the first quality there can be no doubt. The Ashbuniliam iron, particularly, excelled in the quality of toughness, and I have been assured bv smiths who have used it, that it was in nowise inferior to the Swedish metal, generally accounted the best in the world. Camden's remark respecting the superior texture of Spanish iron is scarcely reconcilable with the statement of Fuller : " It is almost incredible how many great guns are made of the iron in this countv. Count Gondomer [the Spanish ambassador] well knew their goodness, when of King James he so often begged the boon to transport them."'*° iVlthough the English monarch very properly de- clined the solicitation of Gondomer, one of his sub- jects. Sir Anthony Sherley, is known to have presented the King of Spain with a hundred pieces of cannon. " How he came by them," says Captain Alexander « Fuller's Worthies, Sussex, iii, 241, edit. 1810. 6 132 IRON-WORKS OF THE SOUTH. Hepburn^ " I know not ; but this is true by God in heaven." ^^ There is, however, little mystery as to the source whence this artillery was derived ; for Sir Anthony's father, Sir Thomas Sherley^of Wiston, was an extensive manufacturer of Sussex iron. This brings us to the seventeenth century, a period in which the Sussex iron trade reached its greatest extent. The number of mills and furnaces had in- creased yearly, in spite of the statutes limiting their extension, and the waste of timber was again brought before the notice of government. In 1686, Charles I granted a commission to Sir David Cuningham, Bart., Christopher Lewknor, Esq., and others, for its better preservation. " Whereas several offences have been heretofore and still are done and committed by . . . maisters, owners, and occupiers of iron -works, forges, furnaces, or hammers, for melting and making of iron, by felling, cutting, and converting of timmer trees (sic) and woods into coals for the melting and making of the said iron, &c. . . . and by felling the said trees and underwood at unseasonable parts of year, whereby the bark thereof hath been lost ; and by in- grossing of iron and iron works, &c., and thereby irdiancing the prices of iron, &c., contrary to our laws and proclamations made for the preservation of tim- ber and woods." It appears that there were several suits touching these offences pending in the court of Star Chamber, and the duty imposed on the com- missioners was, " to treat and compound with" the offenders, and to levy, for the king's use, such sums as they should see fit. The commission was dated at Canbury, 19th August, 1636.^= On the 14th of October following, an office, "to be for ever con- « Shirley's ' Thi-ee Brothers.' Eoxburghe Club. ^ Eymer, xx, 68. BELL-FOUNDING IN SUSSEX. 123 tinued," was erected for the better management of the iron trade, and the king appointed " John Cupper and Grimbakl Pauncefoote, gentlemen, surveyors of all iron-works, and of all woods to be used and employed thereat, and for the surveying and markmg of iron with divers stamps or marks distinguishing the several kinds." On the 29th July, 1637, by an order in council these regulations were put in force, and very stringent methods were adopted for the rectification of the evils complained of.*^ The founders of this century did not limit their operations to iron. I am not aware that bronze cannon continued to be made, but the casting of brass was extensively carried on. Bell-founding was sue- cessfully practised. The churchwardens' accounts at Eastbourne show that a new peal for their church was cast at Chiddingly. The following extracts are interesting : DISBTJESEMENTS, A.D. 1651. £. " Item, to the bell-ffounder, John Lvilham, for castinge the bells by composition . . . . .700 " Item, to John LuUiam, for addition of belmettall, and for six daies labour about the bells, besides the re- maininge mettall after the castinge . . .250 " Item for carrymg the bells and belmettall to Chittingly, and from Chittingly, Jime the 5th and July the 8th 1 10 " Item, to Mr. tfrench [of Cliiddingly] and the fforger, for the treble clapper 8 " Item, to J. L. for his dyet and horsemeate, 3 daies . 3 0" There are many other entries relating to expenses about the bells. " Item, to Richard Miller, of Chittingly, for two brasse pots, weighing 36 li. at hd. the pound . . . 155." ^' ••^ Rymer, xx, 161. Both the foregoing instruments were revoked by a proclamation, "given at York" in 1639. Eymer, xx, 340. ** Ei orig. oUm penes Lt.-Col. J. H. Willard. 124 IRON-WORKS OF THE SOUTH. The third bell at Chiddingly bears the inscription — " Robert Tapsell made me/^ and the name of this person appears in the parish register as a resident there. In the register of Berwick is this entry : " Nov., 1690. The little bell was new cast at Alfriston.'^ At Ripe, there is a tradition that some of the bells of that church were cast on the waste close to the churchyard. Those of Hailsham Chm"ch were founded at a spot near the town still called Bell-Bank. Many of the culinary articles called skillets were also manufactured between the years 1625 and 1670. Some of them bear the name of Rummins. Tradi- tion states that a family of this name, natives of Lamberhurst, travelled about the country with these articles, which they cast at the various foundries of the district, as occasion required.*^ Steel was also manufactured in several places; par- ticularly at Warbleton, where there is a place still called the Steel-Forge Land, and at Robertsbridge. In 1609, John Hawes held the site of the abbey of Roberts- bridge with the buildings, &c., "lying between two fresh- water rivers, abutting at the great stone bridge at the Forge Pond," and including various buildings for the steel-makers, among which were eight steel forges ; " also one great gate-house, called the West Gate, built of lime and stone, and used in part as a dove-house, and in part for the steel-makers; also a great gate called the East Gate, employed as a store- house for iron, with a house attached to it for James Lamye, the hammer-man." Drayton in his ^ Polyolbion,^ published in the year 1612, makes the Sussex woods complain of the injury done them by the iron works, in the folio A^dng « Ex inf. Eev. E. Turner. MICHAEL DRAYTON. 125 passage, which may be regarded as one of the finest in that noble, though singular and laborious, topo- graphical poem : — •' These forests, as I say, the daughters of tlie Weald, (That in their heavy breasts had long their gi'iefs concealed,) Foreseeing then- decay each hoiu- so fast come on, Under the axe's stroke, fetch' d many a grievous groan, When as the anvil's weight, and hammer's di-eadful sound, Even rent the hollow woods and shook the queachy ground ; So that the trembUng nymphs oppress'd through ghastly fear, Kan madtling to the Downs with loose disheveU'd hair. The Sylvans that about the neighbouring woods did dwell, Botli in the tufty frith and iu the mossy fell, Forsook then- gloomy bowers, and wander' d far abroad, Expell'd their quiet seats and place of their abode, Wlien labouring carts they saw to hold their daily trade, Where they in summer wont to sport them in the shade. Could we, say they, suppose, tliat any would us cherish, Which suffer (every day) the holiest things to perish ? Or to our daily want to minister supply ? These Iron Times breed none, that mind posterity. 'Tis but in vain to tell what we before have been. Or changes of the world that we in time have seen ; Wlien, not devising how to spend our wealth with waste. We to the savage swine let fall our larding mast. But now, alas ! oui'selves we have not to sustain. Nor can our tops suffice to shield our roots from rain ; Jove's oak, the warhke ash, vein'd ekn, the softer beech. Short hazel, maple plain, light asp, the bending wych. Tough holly, and smooth birch, must altogether burn, What should the builder sen'e, supplies the forger's turn ; When under pubhc good base private gain takes hold. And we, poor woful woods, to ruin lastly sold." JPolyolhion, Song xvii. The relics of the iron trade during this century are very al)undant, particularly andirons, of almost every imaginable pattern. The example overleaf, which I lately purchased of a dealer in old iron at Lewes, is ornamented with the arms of the family of Thatcher, and was probably cast for the hall of their fine old 126 IRON-WORKS OF THE SOUTH. mansion, PriesthaAves^ in the parish of Westham. The one at its side is one of a pair in the possession of ^Ir. William Harvey .^*^ The upper portion of the andiron is a demy human figure, in the costume of temp. James I, holding a tobacco-pipe in the right hand^ and in the left a jug or tankard. The bird on the shield is perhaps intended for a phoenix. The columnar andu^on (which may belong to the close of the preceding century) is at Hammond's Place, Clay- ton, the property of Colonel Elwood. This house was a seat of the Michelbomes, but the initials I. T. upon the andirons prove them to have belonged to some other family ; perhaps the Turners of Old Land, in the same district. The next, belonging to INIr. Hassell, of Waldron, is a remarkably clean and deli- "•^ I avail myself of this opportimity of acknowledging the kind assistance of Mr. Harvey, in calling my attention to the Burwash slab, and to many of the other productions of the Sussex furnaces, which illustrate this essay. ANDIRONS AND CHIMNEY-BACKS, 127 cate piece of casting. It bears the date of 164-0, and a coat of arms, which I have not been able to appro- priate. It is traditionally reported to have been cast in the parish of Waldi'on. A pair of monster and- irons, of about the same date, is in the possession of Mr. A, Playsted, of Wadhurst. They are 39 inches in height, and their style is Egyptian. The heraldric bearing, which is much defaced, appears to be "a cross between four martlets." The chimney-backs of the seventeenth century are likewise exceedingly various in point of design. ^lany of them exhibit the royal arms, and the arms of noble and other families belonging to the county; others, classical stories, as Venus and Adonis, the Thief and Dog, from /Esop, &c. ; some are ornamented with Scripture histories, particularly Aliraham offering up Isaac, the Queen of Shcba, Christ and the woman of Samaria, &c. ; and some with designs of a much more objectionable character. On a back at Maresfield is 128 IRON-WORKS OF THE SOUTH. an equestrian figure of Charles I, with the initials C. R. ; and Mr. Ashby of East Dean possesses a very curious one, adorned with an oak tree bearing acorns, and the same initials. Among the branches are three crowns, and on a scroll suiTounding the trunk, the words "the royal oak" — allusive to the incident of Charles II, the possessor of thi'ce crowns, taking refiige in the oak at Boscobel. From the early part of the seventeenth century, down to the extinction of the manufactui-e, our foun- dries produced numbers of monumental slabs, which are still remaining in the churches of Sussex and Surrey. At Wadhurst there are no less than thirty examples, ranging between the years 1625 and 1799. The inscriptions and armorial decorations are in general of very rude workmanship, and, as the slabs lie upon the pavement of the nave and aisles, in some- what inconveniently bold relief. The persons com- memorated by them comprise individuals of the families of Bucher, Porter, Fowle, DunmoU, Barham, Luck, Atwells, Braban, Holland, Saunders, Benge, and Playsted, many of whom were connected with the trade in this parish. In 1643, after the taking of Chichester and Arundel by the Parliament's forces, the iron- works belonging to the crown and to royalists, in the western di\dsion of Sussex, were destroyed by a detachment of the armv commanded bv Sir William Waller. ^'^ The mode of making ii'on in Sussex in the seven- teenth century is detailed hj John Ray, the celebrated naturalist, in two papers appended to his ' Collection of English Words.' " This accomit of the whole pro- cess of the iron-work," he says, " I had from one of the chief iron-masters of Sussex, my honoured fi-iend, '"' Dallavray's Western Sussex. JOHN RAY ON SMELTING. 129 Walter BurrcU, of Cuckfield, Esq., deceased." The particulars of the modus operandi of the manufacture, furnished from so authentic a source, are of sufficient value to warrant their introduction in tliis place. "the manner op the iron-work at the furnace. " The iron-mine lies sometimes deeper, sometimes shallower, in the earth, from four to forty [feet] and upward. " There are several sorts of mine, some hard, some gentle, some rich, some coarser. The iron-masters always mix difierent sorts of mine together, otherwise they will not melt to advantage. " When the mine is brought in, they take small-coal [charcoal] and lay a row of it, and upon that a row of mine, and so alternately S.S.S., one above another, and setting the coals on fire, therewith burn the mine. " The use of this burning is to mollify it, that so it may be broke in small pieces ; otherwise if it should be put into the furnace as it comes out of the earth, it would not melt, but come away whole. " Care also must be taken that it be not too much burned, for then it will loop, i.e. melt and run together in a mass. After it is burnt, they beat it into small pieces Adth an iron sledge, and then put it into the furnace (which is before charged with coals), casting it upon the top of the coals, where it melts and falls into the hearth, in the space of about twelve hours, more or less, and then it runs into a sow. " The hearth, or bottom of the fui'uace, is made of sandstone, and the sides round, to the height of a yard, or thereabout ; the rest of the fui-nacc is lined up to the top with brick. " When they begin upon a new furnace, they put fire for a day or two before they begin to blow. 130 IRON-WORKS OF THE SOUTH. "Tlien tlicy blow gently and encrease by degrees 'till they come to the height in ten weeks or more. "Every six days they call a founday, in which space they make eight tun of iron, if you divide the whole sum of iron made by the foundays : for at first they make less in a founday, at last more. "The hearth by the force of the fire, continually blown, grows wider and wider, so that at first it con- tains so much as will make a sow of six or seven hun- dred pound weight ; at last it \A\\ contain so much as will make a sow of two thousand pound. The lesser pieces, of one thousand pound, or under, they call pigs. " Of twenty-four loads of coals, they expect eight tun of sows : to every load of coals, which consists of eleven quarters, they put a load of mine, which con- tains eighteen bushels. " A hearth ordinarily, if made of good stone, will last forty foundays, that is forty weeks, during which time the fire is never let go out. They never blow twice upon one hearth, though they go upon it not above five or six foundays. "The cinder, like scum, swims upon the melted metal in the hearth, and is let out once or twice before a sow is cast. " THE MANNER OF WORKING THE IRON AT THE FORGE OR HAMMER. " In every forge or hammer there are two fires at least ; the one they call the finery, the other the chafery. " At the finery, by the working of the hammer, they bring it into blooms and anconies, thus : " The sow they, at first, roll into the fire, and melt ofl^ a piece of about three-fourths of a hundred- JOHN RAY OX SMELTING. 131 ^yeigllt, which, so soon as it is broken off, is called a " This loop they take out Anth their shingling-tongs, and beat it with iron sledges upon an iron plate near the fire, that so it may not fall in pieces, but be in a capacity to be carried under the hammer. Under which they, then removing it, and drawing a little water, beat it with the hammer very gently, which forces cinder and dross out of the matter; after- wards, by degrees, drawing more water, they beat it thicker and stronger 'tiU they bring it to a bloom, which is a fom'-square mass of about two feet long. This operation they call shingliny the loop. " This done, they immediately return it to the finery again, and after two or three heats and workings, they bring it to an ancony, the figui'e whereof is, in the middle, a bar about three feet long, of that shape they intend the whole bar to be made of it ; at both ends a square piece left rough to be wrought at the chafery . ■*** " Note. At the finery three load of the biggest coals go to make one tun of iron. "At the chafery they only draw out the two ends suitable to what was drawn out at the finery in the middle, and so finish the bar. " Note I. One load of the smaller coals wiU draw out one tun of iron at the chafery. " 2. They expect that one man and a boy at the finery should make two tuns of ii'on in a week : two men at the chafery should take up, i. e. make or work, five or six tun in a week. ''*' The definition of anconi/ given in this paragraph is adopted by Bailey in his Dictionary (folio, 1730). In common with several terms employed in anatomy and arcliitecture, it seems to be derived from the Greek word dyKwv. 132 IRON-WORKS OF THE SOUTH. "3. If into tlie hearth where they work the iron sows (whether in the chafery or the finery) you cast upon the iron a piece of brass^ it will hinder the metal from working, causing it to spatter about, so that it cannot be brought into a solid piece." -^^ An interesting relic of the manufacture is preserved at Howboui'ne, in the parish of Buxted. This is the old hammer post, which exists in situ near the extre- mity of the once extensive but now drained pond. It is formed of an oak tree, and if not wantonly injured will stand for many years longer. Its height above ground is nine and a half feet. The greatest existing remains of Sussex iron are the balustrades which surround St. Paul's Cathedral. ■^^ Eay's English Words not generally used (originally published in 1672), 4th edit., printed m 1768, p. 134 et seq. IRON RAILS ROUND ST. PAUl's. 133 They were cast at Lambcrhurst furnace, and their weighty including the seven gates, is above 200 tons. Their cost, according to the account-books kept at the furnace, was i;!! 1,202. 0*. 6d^° It may be mentioned that the annual consumption of wood at this fm-nace was about 200,000 cords ! This esta- blishment was subsequently called Gloucester Fur- nace, in honour of its having received a visit from the princess (afterwards queen) Anne, and the Duke of Gloucester. If we may credit the general report of the parish, the cannon cast at Gloucester Furnace were not always employed for the use of the British na-vy, but were conveyed by smugglers to the coast, and there shipped for the service of French privateers, in the war then waged against England. This villany was detected, and the parties engaged in it were fined to a large amount. The government contracts were of course withdrawn ; and from this period we may date the decline of these Avorks. The iron-founders to King Charles II were Alexander Courthope, Esq., of Horsmonden, co. Kent, and George BroAvn, Esq., of Bucldand, co. Surrey : their foundries were at Ashburnham, Hawkhurst, Horsmon- den, Barden, and Embdcn. Their correspondence, contracts with the commissioners of ordnance, &c., are in the possession of G. Com'thope, Esq., of Whiligh.5i The manufacture continued to flourish with almost unabated vigour through the seventeenth centurj^, and even in 1724 it was considered the chief interest of the county. In that year was published Budgen's Map of Sussex, a very useful document, as showing *° Topog. Libr. Sussex. ^' Ex inf. W. Com-tliope, Esq., Eougc Croix. 134 IRON-WORKS OP THE SOUTH. the sites of the still existing works. The ornaments suiTOunding the title of it consist of emblems of the trade, Vulcan with Venus and Cupid, Cyclops at the anvil and forge, &c. Besides the illicit exportation of cannon above- mentioned, much heavy ordnance was shipped in the eighteenth century from the ports of Rye and Newhaven. Some seems to have been sent to our Asiatic colonies. When the late Major Fuller entered on his first campaign in India he found with mingled pleasure and surprise some of the old artillery there inscribed with the name of his native \dllage " Heath- field ! " We owe many of our finest sheets of water to the iron manufacture. In other instances, the meadows which were converted into " ponds and pools," have again been drained and restored to their former use, or appropriated as hop-gardens and osier beds. The sites of many of the " hammers " are now occupied by corn-mills. In choosing sites for the works, oiu' iron-masters of com'se sought spots which were at once contiguous to the beds of ore and to some convenient water power. The places chosen for artificial ponds were generally the vales through which streams and rivu- lets flowed. Across these were thrown great dams of earth, usually known as "pond-bays," with a con- venient outlet of masonry for the supply of water, by means of which the wheel connected -with the machinery of the " hammer " or the furnace was set in motion. A valley of moderate \^idth was generally selected, as the narrow ra^dne and the broad level were equally objectionable, the former requiring too lofty, and the latter too long and expensive a pond-bay. All the Sussex rivers and their tributary streams within DECLINE OF THE TRADE. 135 the first few miles of their course^ ai'e well adapted by nature for this useful purpose. Upon the " decline and fall " of the trade few words are necessary. The amazing consumption of wood rendered the production of iron in this district more expensive than in those localities where the coal-mines and the fenniginous strata are in close proximity to each other. Upon Sir lloderic IMurchison's authority, our wealds still contain a much greater quantity of iron-ore, and that of richer quality, than many of the coal-fields of England ; but for the reason alluded to, competition -snth those districts was hopeless. In spite, however, of the invention of "charking^'sea-coal, alluded to as a desideratum by Fuller,^- Sussex still maintained its position as a seat of the iron trade long after the establishment of that process ; ^^ and many families were enriched by the alchemy of transmuting iron to gold so lately as the middle of the last century. Conspicuous among these was that of Legas, one of whose members, John Legas, Gent., " by his industry and diligence in the iron-works of this county, acquired a handsome fortune, with great credit and reputation. He died the 22d May, 1752, aged 62 years." »* Even in the days of our grandfathers, can- non continued to be cast in some places, and the great hammer's " occupation " was not wholly " gone." ^^ 52 Worthies, toI. iii, p. 53, ed. 1840. 53 So recently as 1754, it appears that a Staffordshire ironmaster could profitably engage in the manufactvire of Sussex iron ; since in that year Sir Whistler Webster, Eart., of Battel Abbey, let his Eobertsbridge furnace to a Mr. John Cluirchill, of Hints, co. Stafford. The iron of the south, wrought with charcoal, was probably found ser^'iceable for uiLxing with the pit-coal iron of tlic lessee's home manufacture. 5^ Mon. Inser. in Wadhm-st Church. « From parliamentary papers quoted in the 'Encyclopffidia Bri- 136 IRON-WORKS OF THE SOUTH. By degrees^ howeverj the glare of the furnace faded, the diu of the hammer was hushed, the Last blast was blown, and the wood-nymphs, after a long exile, re- turned in peace to their beloved retreats ! Farnhurst, in Western, and Ashburnham, in Eastern Sussex, witnessed the total extinction of the manufacture. Some strange instances of the fluctuations of fortune are connected with the history of this trade in the South. The two following, relating to the parish of Wadhurst, one of the principal seats of the iron- works, are worthy of a special record. At Riverhall, in Faircrouch quarter, there were a furnace and a forge worked by the Fowles, a family of considerable note,^^ whose prosperity rose and fell with the iron manufacture. Nicholas Fowle, who carried on these works, built in 1591 the fine mansion of Riverhall, which still exhibits traces of its former grandeur. His son, William Fowle, had a grant of free-warren from King James, over his numerous manors and lands in Wadhurst, Frant, Rotherfield, and Mayfield. The fourth in descent, and heir male of this personage, left Riverhall, and kept the tmnpike- gate at Wadhurst. His grandson, Nicholas Fowle, a day-labourer, emigrated to America in 1839, with his son, John Fowle, a wheelwright, and a numerous young family, carrying with them as a family relic, the royal gi'ant of free-warren given to their ancestor. Brookland Forge and Ferredge Forge, on the borders of Frant, were worked by the Barhams of Butts, and Shoesmiths. John Barham of Butts, in tannica,' it appears that in 1740 there were 59 furnaces in England, of which 10 were in Sussex. In 1788 there were 77, only 2 of which were in Sussex. In 1796 the total was, for England 104, for Sussex one. ^^ They were descended fi-om a brother of Bartholomew Fowle, alias Linsted, last prior of St. Mary Overie, in Southwark. VICISSITUDES OF FORTUNE. 137 Wadhurstj second son of a younger son of Henry Barham, Esq., lord of Barham, &c., co. Kent^ a descendant (according to the Kentish historian and genealogist^ Philipot) from Robert de Berham, son of Richard Fitz-Urse, and brother of the murderer of Thomas k Becket, was the founder of several branches of the Barhams inhabiting the mansions of Great Butts and Shoesmiths, the former of which has dis- appeared and been replaced by a miserable little house. His descendant, John Barham, resided there till about 1713, when he sold the remnants of his paternal inheritance. He died in obscurity in 1732^ aged seventy-five. John Barham, grandson of the above-named John Barham of Great Butts, erected or rebuilt, about 1630, the beautifidly-sitviated and spacious mansion of Shoesmiths, and worked Bartlcy Mill and Brookland Forges. His gi-andson was high- sheriff of the county, 14WiUiam III, but at his decease his family fell into obscurity. Scragoak works were formerly carried on by the Mansers, and afterwards by the Barhams ; and Snape Furnace, the property of the Barhams, was worked by the Culpeper family about the middle of the seven- teenth century. David Barham built the greater portion of the present house at Snape about 1617. He died in 1643, and is interred in the south aisle of Wadhurst Church, beneath an iron slab of very curious workmanship. This estate afterwards passed to the Barhams of Scragoak, who worked the furnace there, and this line of the Barhams terminated with Nicholas Barham, who died in the workhouse in 1788, aged eighty-two. The representative of these once distinguished families, now resident at Wadhurst, is Nicholas Barham, a wheelwright. ^7 ^^ Ex inform. W. Courthope, Esq. 138 IRON-WORKS OF THE SOUTH. The day may not be far distant when Sussex iron shall again be called into use. If anthracite fuel were brought to the south coast, and some of the richer veins of ore near the eastern extremity of the county were re-opened, it is calculated that the smelt- ing might be advantageously and profitably carried on here. Within the last few years, the attention of several gentlemen, practically connected with the iron trade in distant parts of the island, has been directed to this subject. 139 WINCHELSEA'S DELIVERANCE; OE, THE STOUT ABBOT OF BATTAYLE. Cfje Argument. " The Frenchmen came to the towTi of Winchclsey, where under- standing the Abbot of Battell was come to defend it, they sent him word to redeeme the towne : imto whom the abbot answered, he needed not to redeeme the thing which was not lost, but willed them to desist from molesting the towne upon paine of that which might follow. The French exasperated at tliis answer, requested him that if hee would not have peace, hee would send forth to fight man to man, or more in nimiber if he would, to trye the matter in view of armes ; but neyther would tlie abbot admitte the one request or the other, saying he was a religious man, and therefore (ought) not to admitte such petitions, and that he came not hither to fight, but to defend and preserve the peace of the country. These things being heard, the Frenchmen, supposing the abbot and his people wanted courage, they assaulted the towne with such instruments of warre as cast forth stones far off, not ceasing from noone tUl evening ; but by the laudable prowess of the abbot and such as were with liim, the French prevailed nothing, but left it as they found it." — Stoive's Chronicle, pp. 278-9. This happened in the year of grace 1377, the first of Richard II. Hamo de Offington was Abbot of Battel from 1364 to 1383. Battel Abbey was dedicated to St. Martin ; and St. Thomas and St. Giles were the patrons of Winchelsea, in wliich town the Alards were a distinguished family. Brother Dunk is not wholly an imaginary per- sonage, for the Chronicles inform us, that a short time previously to the attack of Winchelsea, the French, in one of their marauding excursions, captured a monk of Baitayle clad in complete armour. None but the hypercritical will doubt that this was the identical brother who figures to so much advantage in the ensuing verses. FYTTE YE FYRSTE. It was Midsummer time, at the season of prime^ When many a knock and a shout Did fiercely assail the great gate of Battayle, And call forth the warder so stout. 140 winchelsea's deliverance, " Saynt Martin ! for sure ! " as lie opened the door, Says he, " 'tis the young Squire Ah'ird, From fair Winchelsee — as it seemeth to me, Good syr, you have ridden full hard." " I have not ridden slow, as my gelding doth know," To him said the right gallant youth : " Now to the lord abbot I pray thee to go. And tell him this word from my mouth : — " The Frenchmen are coming to bum Winchelsee, Are coming with tall galleys ten, And unless we have aid, I am sorely afraid 'Twill go hard with the Winchelsee men." Now, hearing the rout, my lord abbot came out. And without any needless delay. Bade summon his men, two hundred and ten — A goodly and doughty array. "Brother Clement," he said, "go fetch my good blade. That hangeth up in the great hall ; There's my jacket of mail hard by on a nail. And my greaves and my helmet withal. " And, Sacristan Gower, hie thee to the tower. And ring out Saint Martin's great bell ! The men of Battayle for sure will not fail To know what that meaneth right well." OR THE STOUT ABBOT OF BATTAYLE. 141 He bade a tall groom bring horses forth soon — He said, and the thing it was done ; For no order in vain gave he to his men. Stout Hamo, surnamcd Offington. Without the great gate his coming did wait Of tenants a sturdy long row, In doublets of leather ; in each cap a feather. In each hand a trusty yew bow. There were yeomen and hinds from the forest so wide. And men from the mill and the forge ; And Alard did ride by the abbot his side. With the pennon of bold Saint George. Knights and squires one or twey had taken their way, To lead on the valorous crowd, While old Clement Dunk, a tall, sword-lo^dng monk, Chanted paters and aves aloud. The abbot on horse showed the footmen their course Through many a green glade and lea. And in a short space, by 'r Lady's good gi'ace. They were come unto fair Winchelsee. FYTTE YE SECONDE. Now the Frenchmen were coming full fast to the town, W^ere coming full fast to the wall. When a herald did blow a terly-lo-lo, And loud on the abbot 'gan call. 142 winchelsea's deliverance ; "Monsieur Abbe,^' said he, on his loAv-bended knee, "A word with my lord sHl vous plait ; 'Tis our capitaine'& will you should ransom cette ville With red gold^ and then he will away ! '^ Then the abbot out said : " By Saint Martin's sword- blade, Bid thy maister to hold in his boast ; Methinks, by the masse, he must deem me an asse. To ransom what never was lost ! " This angered the foe, both noble and low, And chiefly the grand capitaine. Who swore a great oath by Saint Sepulchre's tooth, And sent forth his herald again. "Le grand CJievalere, milord, sends me here, To challenge you forth to the fight; He biddeth me say, you Avill sufler this day The loss of full many a wight." But Hamo of Offington meekly replied : " Carnal weapons, as holy writ saith, 'Vail little, and I, as a son of the Church, Fight only the good fight of Faith." Brother Dunk, who stood by, rather turned up his eye, As he thought of the helmet and sword He had fetched from the hall, at the good abbot's call. That morning — but said not a word. OR THE STOUT ABBOT OF BATTAYLE. 143 The lierald went back, and the Frenchmen, not slack To cm-se the lord abbot's reply. Called him cowardly knave, and declared he should have Good space to repent by-and-bye. So their engines they fetch, and their cables they stretch. To bring up each mighty machine ; The catapults all they put nigh to the wall. With battering-rams set between. The portsmen prepare to perform well their share. In defending their gates fi'om the foe : The young Squii'c Ahird, too, is setting the guard ; Brother Dunk runneth swift to and fro. The abbot hath donned his bright raiment of steel ; Saint ]\Iartin defend his old head ! The men of Battayle Avill never him fail, Wliile life-blood remains to be shed. Huge stones fly about, and the Frenchmen all shout : " Work the catapults ! " " Rams to the breach ! " But good brother Dunk (that most valorous monk) Replies with hot lead and burnt pitch. Now Saint Thomas defend ! and Saint Giles his aid lend ! Burning houses and dead men are here ; But the brave young Alard is fighting full hard, And bidding the portsmen good cheer. 144 winchelsea's deliverance. FYTTE YE THYRDE. " But where is the abbot ? and where is the monk ? And where are the men of Battayle ? They are gone every one^ and we 're surely undone ; Well-a-day when such brave men turn tayle. ''Alas and alas, that this cometh to pass ! ". Said the Winchelsee men — all but one ; The yomig squire well knew that the abbot was true, Though he knew not for why he was gone. But listen ! a shout from the town walls without, Saint Martin ! Saint Martin 's the cry. From a low-sunken trench at the rear of the French, Ten-score of bright arrow shafts fly. For the abbot so bold (and as true as fine gold). With his bowmen two hundred and mo'. By a postern hath sped, and hath gallantly led Them, unseen to the back of the foe. Saint Martin ! Saint Martin ! again is the word. And again, all at once, bend the yew ; The cloth-vards have fled, and a Frenchman lies dead 'Neath each arrow so keen and so true. The foes in amaze right ruefully gaze On each other awhile, till at last A trumpet is blown, and the Frenchmen are flown To the shore and their galleys in haste. OR THE STOUT ABBOT OF BATTAYLE. 145 Then up, stalwart Offington ! up, gallant Dunk ! And forth come ye portsmen so free ! For, thanks to the deeds of the abbot and monk. You ^'e gotten a brave vietorie. Now rest thee, lord abbot, till morning^ s fair light. Then betake thee to Battayle again, And let loud Te Deums be ehanted aright At the holy Saint ]Martin his fane. Alard, may God save thee, thou gallant young squire. And thy kindred in fair Winchelsee : Let masses be said in Saint Thomas's choir For the foes whom the bowmen did slee ! 146 THE SOUTH DOWNS— A SKETCH. " To freedom, thought, and peace, how dear ! To freedom, for no fence is seen : To thought, for silence soothes the way ; To peace, for o'er the boundless green Unnumbered flocks and shepherds stray." — Bloomfield. Who, from Cornwall to Caithness, from Kent to Cardigan, has not heard of the South Down hills ? Who that loves travel has not at some time or other, like White of Selbome, expatiated on their broadly- extended slopes and rounded summits ? or, like John Hay, admired the goodness of the Creator in spreading this ample, this sweetly-undulated, verdant carpet for the foot of man ? "I have heard of them," the gourmand may perhaps reply, " and I like the mutton which they produce better than any other." " And 1," the languid pleasure-seeker may adjoin, " why, I have seen them two or three times when I have been 'down at Brighton/ but I must say I thought them remarkably dull — nothing but turf and ploughed land, ploughed land and turf, everywhere; no trees, no hedges — all one monotonous brownish-green waste !" Hold there, good friend ; stay awhile ; look again. Take a few turns with us over their broad sides; j\scend with us a few of their plastic promontories ; dive with us into their wondrously secluded valleys ; let us examine in company their historic sites, their curious natural productions, animate and otherwise ; pore over their romantic associations, and listen to THEIR BEAUTY. 147 the folk-lore of their denizens — to talcs of smuggler and fairy, and quaint legends of ancient days, as they come, in unsophisticated Saxon phrase, from plough- man and shepherd ; and when we have so " perlus- trated, investigated, and expatiated " over their unen- cumbered expanse, then, and not till then, let us decide whether the South Downs are in any sense dull, dreaiy, and monotonous. To avoid the suspicion of prejudice, let us say, in limine, that we claim not our birth-place among these hills. The chain which is said so sweetly to bind mortals to their natal soil enthrals us not. We are free to admire whatever is beautiful or majestic wherever found ; we have no patron to serve, no lands to sell, no "eligible building leases" to glorify, while we challenge on behalf of the South Downs an amount of interest scarcely to be claimed by any like district in the realm. Noble hills ! mountains in miniature ; but not mountains either. The rugged sublimity attaching to that idea they do not possess. Grandeur they have, and much beauty. Hear dear quaint old Gil- bert White, no bad authority on such a question : " I think," says he, " there is something peculiarly sweet _^nd amusing in the shapely figm'cd aspect of chalk hills in preference to those of stone, which are rugged, broken, abrupt, and shapeless." A cursory view of them Avould lead one to pronounce the absence of two elements generally considered essential to the pic- turesque — wood and water — as damnatoiy of any rightful claim to the eye of taste. But we maintain that, in any point of view, the South Downs, despite this aljsencc of sylvan and aqueous features, still demand our notice and admiration. We look upon them with somewhat of the same feeling which pos- 148 THE SOUTH DOWNS. sesses the sea-going traveller, who, with only two elements of the picturesque — sky and salt water — finds infinite pleasure in all that his eyes behold. Nor is the supposed analogy unapt; for the wavy ever-varying contour of our Downs presents the very diversity of surface which gives a charm to the sea- view. There is, however, this diflerenee ; that while the latter pleases fi'om the restlessness of its undula- tions, these " everlasting hiUs " gratify and soothe the mind by their calm and immoveable repose. The two things differ from each other as does a giant in action from a giant asleep ! One great source of the charm which attends these hills is doubtless their delicate turf, so agreeable to the traveller whether he employs two legs or four. There is none like it under the sun — so soft, so dry it is — so smooth and gentle beneath the foot, equine or human. The next source of pleasurable sensation is the almost boundless expanse over which we may wander and gallop without obstruction. No bluft" game-keeper interposes with his " Take care of your dog," — no uncourteous wooden-headed intimation that there is "No thoroughfare '^ obtrudes itself iipon the notice of the by-passer. All around seems to say, " Go where you like — make yourself at home — glad to see you. Would you like to lie down a bit ? Or take off your coat for the sake of coolness ? Do so by all means ; w'e are not particular. We have no hedges hard by to engender snakes. Toads never come up here. Take your ease — you are welcome ! " The traveller may deviate from the beaten path, and go " up hill, down dale " without the least offence to crusty land-OAvners, or the slightest danger to his neck. Some of these advantages might, it is true, be predi- cated of an Arabian desert, but no desert anywhere can THEIR BROAD EXPANSE. 149 sav of itself what we boldly affirm of the South Do\\Tis, namely^ that go where you please over their ample area, you shall most certainly never see two spots alike, — never feel annoyed by the monotony of the prospect. In their sweet undulations there are continually changing curves and indents, which vary as they may — from the precipitous valley down which a confident horseman would scarcely urge his courser, to the gentle declivity where the most delicate lady (in imitation of the fairies which of old haunted it) might dance — are always "^ lines of beauty," such as we confidently believe have nowhere else an existence, except, perhaps, in some graceful island group of the Pacific. "\Miat a charming picture of quiet English life does a South Down village present ! You may traverse these hills unconscious of the proximity of human habitations, and with a feeling almost amounting to we, wondering at the solemn stillness of the scene, and tempted to ask yourself whether you are really in busy, teeming, railway-traversed England, and within a league of that great "highway of the nations," the English Channel, when, lo, the top of an adjacent brow is gained, and suddenly a scene unfolds itself such as no country save England, and no county except Sussex, can yield. Lying at your feet, two or three hundred yards distant, as if put there for your own proper delectation and joy, is a cluster of lowly habitations, some thatched, some tiled, some abutting the street, some standing angularly towards it, but all built of flint or boulders. Here a barn, a stable, a circular pigeon-house, centuries old, with its denizens (direct descendants of the old manorial pigeons which lived here in the days of the Plantagencts) , and an an- tique gable or two, covered with Horsham stone, peer 150 THE SOUTH DOWNS. out among tall elms, and show you the habitation of the farmer, who with much of patriarchal simplicity rules the destinies of a little community of husbandmen and shepherds. A pretty place this farm-stead gene- rally is, with its high-walled garden behind, and its smooth lawn and flower-beds in front. The house is an old one, built of flint, with stone window- frames, and door-cases, and a high-pitched roof crowned with a stack or two of old-fashioned chimneys of elaborate and fantastical design. This was a gentleman's house once, and it is still called " the Court,'' or 'Hhe Place,'' or some other name indicative of its olden importance. Tlie present occupant is probably as wealthy, or nearly so, as the ancient owner who put in the stone win- dow-frames and built the antique chimney-stacks, and in all likelihood possesses as strong a claim to being a " gentleman " in the true sense of the word as he did ; he is, however, as the phrase goes, a " gentleman- farmer" only. It may chance, too, that he can boast of as respectable an ancestry as the other ; for he is in possession of " capital " derived from a long line of thrifty progenitors, members of an aristocracy of agricidtm-ists, who have been occupants, " time out of mind," of that very South Down mansion and farm. We know several men of this class, whose ancestors have been tenants of the same fertile acres from the time of the Maiden Queen ; and Sussex can produce many instances of the tillers of the soil having a more permanent interest in that soil than the proprietors themselves. For two or three centu- ries, in spite of the fluctuations of agricultm-al affairs, these men have maintained their standing as tenants of land, which, from reverses of fortune, or the extinc- tion of families, has frequently changed owners. . . . Close to the garden wall stands the church, a little A SOUTH DOWN VILLAGE. 151 grey edifice, with a diminutive tower of flint, and a low tiled spire, surrounded by its cemetery, in which " the rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.'^ The architecture of this humble house of prayer Avas ori- ginally good, though simj)le and unpretending, but it has generally been queer ly deformed by a slate roof, and perhaps by a sash-window, painted white, in the chancel; still, in spite of these obnous defects you look upon it with far more favour than yesterday you did upon the gimcrack, pinnacled, and crocketed thing, called a " district church,'^ upon Cobbley Com- mon in the AVeald. At the base of yonder opposite hill are a snug little school-house in the Elizabethan (or, as a quaint friend of ours calls some of these erections, l^\iza,-beastly) style, and some more strag- gling cottages, intermixed with gardens, forming the lane leadmg up to the parsonage-house, which, with its stuccoed front and yomig plantations, tells of recent re-erection, and suggests comfortable reflections upon the bounty of Queen Anne. Higher up you get a view of ox-teams and horse-teams, plodding lazily over the furrow-streaked "laines," and a shepherd guarding his fleecy charge. As you descend into the "Dean," whose surrounding hills shut out the rest of the world from this pleasant picture, you cannot help thinking that, if the slated roof, and the sash- window, and the stuccoed front, were away, you might easily imagine yom'self pushed back into the middle of the reign of Elizabeth, and forget that newspapers and railways existed. Then again, the air of these hiUs is among the purest in the world. The chalky soil absorbs all moisture, and stagnant water cannot exist upon it. The demon malaria cannot show his baleful front on these breezy plains, and it is only where au occasional 153 THE SOUTH DOWNS. gross disregard of cleanliness in the vicinity of houses prevails that he sometimes puts in his appearance. It is impossible to traverse the South Downs without a sensible elevation of the animal spirits. Horses as well as men seem to participate in this feeling, and manifest their pleasure in fifty quiet ways. Then look at the sheep; what a manifest difference they present to their congeners of the lowland meadows. There is almost as great a disparity between the two families as between the wild fowl and the tame, the pheasant and the barn-door chicken. It is to the fine climate, and sweet short grass of their habitat, rather than to any structural peculiarity, that we owe the finest mutton in existence. With regard to the absence of wood, it should be remembered that this is owing more to the neglect of its cultivation than to any inability of the soil to produce it. Wherever we find a gentleman's seat, we see timber flourish, espe- cially beech, elm, and fir. In the holts, as small groA^es are locally designated, ash, hazel, and even oak succeed very well. Among shrubs, furze,^ heath, juniper, and box are natives of the South Downs, though the last two are of rather rare occurrence. Our favourite in the South Down arboreticum is the hawthorn, See that cluster of them in the combe below us. Venerable trees they are, with their grey stems, the growth of ages, perhaps of centuries, con- trasting beautifully Avith their fresh green foliage of the last month's growth — an emblem of Nature herself, always old, yet constantly rejuvenescent. The South Downs afford a fine field for the naturalist as well as for the sportsman. One cannot but regret, however, the extinction of some of the animals which they formerly nourished, particularly 1 Tui'ze is locally called Tiawth^ and sometimes ^/wzses. BUSTARDS AND WHEATEARS. 153 tliat fine indigenous bird, the bustard or wild turkey. The grandfather of the present writer was among the last who joined in the sport, about the middle of the last century, of hunting down the last remains of the species with dogs and bludgeons. The badger is now extremely rare ; but this is not, considering the mis- chievous character of the trilie, so much to be regretted. The wheatear [Sylvia (E nan the) is becoming much less numerous than heretofore, to the great loss of the shepherds. The T-shaped incisions or traps in the turf, are still seen, however, at the proper season, and many a timid, inoffensive bird still subjects itself to "capital punishment '' in the horse-hair noose insidiously concealed within. In the neighbourhood of Mount Cabmii a single shepherd is recorded to have caught eighty-fom' dozen in one day — but this was nearly a century ago. Even a greater number than this must have fallen to the share of a shepherd remembered by a friend of ours. This man, after having filled a large bag and his wife's apron with the game, was fain to take ofi* his "round frock,'' and to fasten the neck and sleeves of that rustic garment by way of sack, which he filled to repletion with his delicious victims. It was formerly a lawful, and rather a common, practice, for w^ayfarers, on coming to a wheatear trap, to take out the bird, and to leave a penny as a " quid pro quo," which it often literally was — as this small pecuniary deposit was commonly appropriated to the purchase of tobacco. We ai'e afraid that a lower tone of morals in this respect is now prevalent. The wheatear is reckoned no way inferior to the Ortolans of Southern Europe. Fuller, in his 'Worthies' (iii, 240), gives the following account of it: — "Whcatears is a bird peculiar to this county — hardly found out of it. It is so called 15Jj THE SOUTH DOWNS, because fattest when wheat is ripe, whereon it feeds [in- correct] , being no bigger than a lark, which it equalleth in the fineness of the flesh, far exceedeth in the fatness thereof. The worst is, that being only seasonable in the heat of summer, and naturally larded with lumps of fat, it is soon subject to corrupt, so that (though abound- ing within forty miles) London poulterers have no mind to meddle with them, which no care in carriage can keep from putrefaction. That palate-man shall pass in silence, who being seriously demanded his judg- ment concerning the abilities of a great lord, concluded him a man of very weak parts ^Decause he saw him at a great feast feed on chickens when there were wheatears on the table ! ' " One of the most interesting objects which the naturalist will find upon the South Downs are the numerous fairy-rings or " hag-tracks" as they are sometimes called. They are perhaps not only more abundant, but better defined on these hills than else- where. They are sometimes of great size, measuring fifty or sixty feet in diameter. Sometimes they appear and disappear in the course of a year or two, but we have known instances in which they have retained a distinct and unvaiying form for many successive years. Their origin is a matter of some uncertaintv. It has been ascribed to that dernier ressort of many of the arcana of nature, electricity. Our own belief is that the cause is to be found in the growth of various species of mushrooms," which are invariably foimd in these bright green circles — a theory which has received the sanction of Drs. Hutton and Wollaston. It is '^ Besides the edible agarics there are several varieties of toad-stools and puff-balls. The latter are known among shepherds as " Satan's snuff-boxes." The common table muslu-oom grows ia great quantities on the Downs. A friend of ours sold tlie produce of a field of eleven acres one summer for tweutv-five pounds. FAIRY-RINGS. 155 Mutton's opinion, based upon the positions which these fungi occupy, that they are formed by a pro- gressive increase from a centre. " I thought it not impossible/' says Wollaston, " that the soil which had once contributed to the support of fungi might be so exhausted of some peculiar pabulum, necessary for their production, as to ])c rendered incapable of producing a second crop of that singular class of vegetables. The second year's crop would consequently appear in a small ring surrounding the original centre of vege- tation, and at every succeeding year the defect of nutriment on one side would necessarily cause the new roots to extend themselves solely in the opposite direction, and would occasion the circles of fungi con- tinually to proceed by annual enlargement from the centre outwards. An appearance of luxuriance in the grass would follow as a natural consequence, as the soil of an interior circle would always be encircled by the decayed roots of fungi of the preceding year's growth." The Doctor's subsequent observations and experiments went far to substantiate this ingenious theory.^ ^ Old Aubrey, the Wiltshire antiquai-y and naturalist, one of the most cred'olous men of his credulous age, has a wondrous theory upon the subject. " In the yeare 1633-4, soone after I had entered into my grammar at the Latin Schoole at Yatton Keynel, our curate, Mr. Hart, was annoyed one night by these elves and fayries. Com- ming over the downes, it being neere darke, and approaching one of the faircy dances, as the common people call them in these parts, viz. the greene circles made by those sprites on the grasse, lie all at once sawe an innumerable quautitie of pigmies or very small people dancing rounde and rounde, and singing, and making all manner of small odd noyses." So much for the fact — now for the theory, which we hope the reader will Ilnd more intelligible than we have done .... " As to these circles, I presume they are generated from the breaking out of a fertile subterraneous vapour, which comes from a kind of conical concave, and endeavours to get out at a narrow passage at the top, which forces it to make another cone inversely situated to the 1j6 the south downs. It is not, however, our intention, in tliis sketch, to invade the realms of science, or to trouble the reader with botanical researches. We should be more at home with the poetical superstition, hardly yet extinct, that these mysterious rings are formed by the feet of the fairies in their nocturnal dances. An age or two back, before Penny Magazines and Mechanics^ Institu- tions were invented, this was the universal belief among the ploughmen and shepherds ; and no inconsiderable amount of " folk-lore" of this kind might still be collected from the mouths of the older denizens of the secluded Deans and Combes, as the vallevs of the South Downs are denominated; though the rehearsal would probably be prefixed by some phrase strongly implying a want of faith, or at least of sufficient courage to avow it, such as " They used to say when I was a boy,^^ or, " My old uncle Tuppen used to tell us young- sters." As in the case of ghosts, however, the love of the wonderful to this day outweighs with some the suggestions of reason ; and the sceptical air only serves to conceal a lingering faith in a species of my- th olosrv which has been handed down from Saxon fore- fathers through tlie lapse of thirty generations. In the days of our grandfathers, some rustic Will Fowington, or some ancient Dame Boxholt, would entertain a group of unlettered village children by the hour with the marvellous adventures which some of then' forefathers or former acquaintance had expe- rienced with the Pharisees, as fairies were always other, the top of which is the green circle .... If you di"-; these tangible memorials of other davs we might linger upon sites once renowned, but where not one stone is left upon another to call to mind the high achievements of Poynings and of Pierpoint, albeit the one race have bequeathed to posterity a noble cruciform church, and the other have im- printed their name upon their old abode. We might 8§ 178 THE SOUTH DOWNS, dwell upon spots wliich are yet cherislicd in historic memories and wliich are still the abodes of perennial prosperity — upon Ratton, where the old Roundhead Parkers dwelt — upon Firle, where the name of Gage still survives in undecayed splendour — upon Glynde, where jSIorley^ distinguished in civil wars^ had his seat — upon Danny, where dwelt Goring the partizan (equally zealous and perhaps more conscientious) of the opposite cause — upon Wiston, ever memorable as the birth-place of the three Sherley brothers who in the old Elizabethan days were the common boast of Christendom — upon Glyndebourne, the seat of the poetic muse — upon Folkington, Stanmer, Rowdell, Parham^ Compton Place, Patcham, Preston, Street, Michelgrove, Friston, Plumpton, Findon, and many more, now or once of name in national annals, the histories of which would be ' longe to reherse V We might pore, moreover, upon that quaint gigantic effigy upon Wilmington Hill, eighty yards long, and balance the probabilities of its having been cut by lazy monks in Plantagenet days, or by Celtic hands twenty centm'ies or more ago ; or endeavom* to guess who it was that carved erewhile in the turf in front of Plumpton Hill that now almost effaced cross — pious memorial of some forgotten deed. But we forbear ; nor will we tarry long to expatiate upon the pleasant towns and tillages which nestle lo^dngly on the bosom, or at the foot of, the Dovras. The time would fail us to tell of that marine Babylon, Brighton, — of its rise from a town of fishermen to be the abode of the wealthiest and the gayest — of the days when huts and barns stood in its busiest streets, and how now and then the simple men of ' Brighthelmston' builded boats upon the Steyne ; — of pleasant Lewes, full of old historic remembrances ; — of fashionable Worthing INVASIONS — SHIPWRECKS. 179 with its pleasant environs; — of Eastbourne, prettiest of southern sea- resorts; — of Scaford with its picturesque environs and political, if not poetical, associations ; — of Newliavcu, noticeable for the landing, in ^48, of the fallen king of the French ; — of llottingdean, a plea- santer place by far than its corrupt name imports ; — of Hm'stpcrpoint, its scenery and its antiquities ; — of Ditching with its cruciform church and streets (as milliners say) ' to match ;' — of Steyning, hallowed in the days of saints and Saxon kings ; — and last — not least — of Arundel, the historical and the picturesque. We might tell too of invasions and hostile landings on the sea- ward foot of the Downs : how John de Cariloco, prior of Lewes, armed his dependents in the days of Richard the Second to resist the French, and how after what Lord Berners calls a " sore scrimysshe " on Rottingdean Hill the holy man and two of his knightly friends were borne off into captivity ; — of the invasion of Brighthclmston in Henry the Eighth's days by " talle shippes and galeyes," and of the burning of the town by the French; — of the attack of Scaford soon after, and its gallant and successful defence by Sir Nicholas Pelham and his tenants and friends. Manv a tale might likewise be remembered of dis- astrous shipwreck and of bloody smuggling ad\enture, were such scenes to our taste or pertinent to our sub- ject. From risk of foreign invasion, and from illicit trading, these shores are now happily free, and, thanks to advanced science, shipwrecks arc much less fre- quent than in days of old. ]Many a harrowing scene would Beachy-Head — graceful and beautiful as its sum- mit looks in summer weather — have to account for, were it a sentient thing. Acroceraunia, and Scylla, and all the rocks dreadful to the mariners of antiquity, were harmless and innocent in comparison to this 180 THE SOUTH DOWNS. gigantic pile of white chalky cliffs — fit type of many other apparently fair and lovely^, but reuUy dangerous and destructive things ! " Come on, sir ; here's the place ! stand still. — How fearful And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low ! The crows and choughs that wing the midway air Show scarce as gross as beetles : Half-way down Hangs one that gathers samphire ; di'eadful trade ! Methinks he looks no bigger tlian his head. # * ^F ^ ^ 4p the murmiu'ing surge, That on the unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes, Cannot be heard so high : — I'll look no more ; Lest ray brain turn, and the deficient sight Topple down headlong." These Avell-known verses are far more applicable to Beachy-Head than to the so-called Shakspeare's Cliff at Dover^ wliich is more than a hundi-ed feet less lofty^ as well as much less precipitous. Samphire [crithmum maritimum) grows here as abundantly as upon the Kentish cliff: but^ however associated with danger that humble plant may have been in the poet^s mind, it once became, like Noah's olive-branch, the indica- ,tion and the pledge of safety from the furious and devouring wave. In Bm^net's ' Introductory Lecture to the Medico-Botanical Society ' occurs the follow- ing highly interesting narrative in relation to it : " During a ^dolent storm in November, 1821, a vessel, passing through the English Channel was driven on shore near Beachy-Head, and the whole of the crew being washed overboard, four escaped from the wreck only to be delivered, as they thought, to a more lin- gering and fearful, from its being a more gradual and equally inevitable, death ; for, ha\-ing in the darkness of the night been cast upon the breakers, they found, when they had climbed up the highest of these low rocks, that the waves were rapidly encroacliing on BEACHY-HEAD SAMPHIRE. 181 their asylum ; and they doubted not that, when the tide should be at its height, the whole range would be covered with water. The darkness of the night pre- vented anything being seen beyond the spot upon which they stood, and which was continually decreas- ing by the successive encroachments of each advancing wave. The violence of the storm left no hope that their feeble voices, even if raised to the uttermost, could be heard on shore ; and they knew that amidst the howling of the blast their cries could reach no ear but that of God. What human arm could give assist- ance in such a situation? Even if their distresses were known, how vain was the help of man ! The circle of their existence here seemed gradually lessen- ing before their eyes; the little span of earth gra- dually contracting to their destruction. Already they had receded to the highest points, and already the infuriated waters followed them, flinging over their devoted heads the foremost waves, as heralds of their speedily approaching dissolution. At this moment, one of these wretched men — while they were debating whether they should not, in this extremity of ill, throw themselves upon the mercy of the waves, hoping to be cast upon some higher groimd, as, even if they failed to reach it, a sudden would be better than a Kngering death : in this dire extremity, one of these despairing creatures — to hold himself more firmly to the rock, gi'asped a weed, which, even wet as it was, he well knew, as the lightning's sudden flash aftbrded a momentary glare, was not a fucus, but a root of samphire, and he recollected that this plant never grows under water. This then became more than an olive-branch of peace — a messenger of mercy; by it he knew that He who alone can calm the raging of the seas — at whose voice alone the winds and the waves 182 THE SOUTH DOWNS. are still — had placed his landmark^ had planted his standard here ; and by this sign, they Avere assured that He had said to the wild waste of Avaters, * Hi- therto shalt thou come^ and no further ! ' Trusting, then, to the promise of this angel of the earth, they remained stationary during the remainder of that dreadful, but then comparatively happy, night ; and in the morning they were seen from the cliflPs above, and conveyed in safety to the shore." The erection, within the last thirty years, of a light-house upon Belle-Toute, a lofty eminence adjoining the Head, has been the salvation of many a precious life, and of vast treasures of merchan- dise and art. It seems strange that this measure of safety should not have been thought of ages before. The only attempt previously made to avert shipwrecks was by a philanthropic, though eccentric personage, Jonathan Darby, vicar of the adjacent village of East Dean. Upwards of a century and a quarter since, this gentleman, influenced by motives of humanity, excavated the cavern at the base of Belle-Toute, which still retains the name of " Parson Darby's Hole.'^ It consists of two apartments, a good deal mutilated by the storms of six-score winters, but still sufficiently capacious to contain, as it often has contained, a group of shipwrecked mariners; to say nothing of incautious travellers (among whom we must include ourseh^es), who in ventm^ing to "round the Head" upon the beach, have been overtaken by the rising tide. The apartments, in the formation of AA^hich some thousands of cubic feet of solid rock chalk had to be removed, are said to have been excavated by Mr. Darby's own hands. Hither, when the Herculean laboiir was finished, he used to betake himself on stormy nights, and to hang out a light, not so much PARSOX JONATHAN" DARBY. 183 perhaps as a beacon to prevent sliipwreck, as a guide for the shipTVi'ecked to a temporary asyhim. There is a tradition that his humane exertions were once re- warded by the preservation of twelve sailors, the crew of a Dutch merchantman, Avhich had been driven upon the opposite rocks. Another tradition asserts that the good vicar was partly impelled to his pious task by the turbulent temper of his wife, and that his cavern sometimes served him as an asykim from con- nubial oljjurgationSj which were more distasteful to him than the howling of the winds and the dashing of the Avaters. According to the parish register of East Dean this lady's tongue was stilled by death in the montli of December, 1723. Her husband sur- vived a few years longer, still dividing his time between his parochial duties and his cave, until his health at length failed from long exposure to damp and cold, and he was gathered to his fathers, October 25, 1728. We know not whether there is in the fine climate of the South Downs anything that generates eccen- tricity of character. Certain it is, however, that few districts have produced a greater number or variety of human oddities — odd parsons, odd clerks, odd millers, odd farmers, odd peasants. Only the pen of a Dickens could do them justice. We are sorry to say that the traditional history of the district tells rather against tJie cloth, as it existed a couple of generations ago. We will not therefore blot our page by telling how Parson W — , whose grace before meat was " Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die ! '' — was stufhbled over one dark night close to his churchyard, and how, on turning his face "upward to the stars," he observed that "they had put him to bed in a remarkably high-pitched room ! " — nor how Parson 184) THE SOUTH DOWNS. F — once preached with a blackened eye, and his right arm in a sling, the result of a pugilistic en- counter with a justice of the peace ; — nor of Parson P — , who in default of a congregation on wet Sundays took his clerk to the ' Wheatsheaf/ where they stayed till both master and man were internally well drenched with " dog's-nose/' But on a change tout cela — and we believe that a more zealous or respect- able class of clergymen is nowhere found than the existing generation of South Down ministers. From parson to clerk is a very natural transition ; and the parish clerk, everywhere more - or less an oddity, seems to have come to the perfection of his species on these hills. Innumerable are the traditions relating to the old Bens, old Sams, old Jans, and other " old " clerks (for it is to be noted that a parish clerk, be he eighty years of age or twenty -five, is always old) who have " done duty " beneath the little dove-cot steeples of the South Down chm'ches. A few years ago, a violent gale occurred during the afternoon service at n chm^ch, which unroofed several barns, and blew down a windmill. The clerk's position was the only one which commanded, through a little Norman window by his desk, a full view of this damage. It was time for the psalm before sermon, when the clerk rose as usual, and astonished the whole congregation by the words : — " Let us sing to the praise and glo — Please, sir, Mus' Cinderby's miU is blowed down ! " The announcement was of course followed, not by singing, but by a general exeunt of the congregation. A still more ludicrous announcement was made by the clerk of an adjoining parish not long since. One wet Sunday, the clergy- man in crossing the Downs had the misfortune to receive a fall from his horse upon the wet turf. As STORIES OF PARISH CLERKS. 185 his dress was almost saturated with water, he told the clerk to apprise the people that, in consequence of a slight accident he had met with, he should be unable to preach a sermon that day. Accordingly, after prayers, the clerk rose and said, " Ye be to goo now." The congregation, not understanding this laconic hint, retained their seats, when the clerk exclaimed at the top of his voice, " Ye be to goo, I say. Passon ant a gooin to praich to-dee — acause he's wet his- self!'' But the standard joke against the South Down parish clerk is the following — the precise period and locality of which, however, I have not been able to ascertain. Perhaps some musical antiquary may be more successful. One dark Sunday afternoon in winter, the " old " clerk — really old in this case — after wiping his " sparticles " and vainly striAdng to read off the first line of the psalm, looked helplessly towards the singers who w^ere standing in the gallery, and said in an apologetic tone, " Mine eye's so dim, I cannot see ;" upon which they, taking the words for tlie first line of a ' varse,' immediately struck up — eye s The old man, astonished at this proceeding, now expostulated with them by saying, " / cannot give it mt." portion of the psalm, and continued This also the choristers took as a genuine 186 THE SOUTH DOWNS. Master clerk now began to vent his impatience^ by angrily adding, '^ Tarnation fools, ye all must be ; " — and this also was duly responded to, with many a repe- tition of the oflensive title — ftr*- l=i 3 41— •— •- :t e —o—0 — ^^- J tJ Tar -na-tion fools, Tar-na-tion fools. Tar - na-tiou fools, Tar- na - tion fools ye The poor old fellow, teazed beyond endurance, now imconsciously completed his common-metre stanza, by furiously demanding, " What be ye all about ? " This was also received in good faith by the folks in the gallery, who at length got through the weary windings of another stave in manner following : — ^1=-.= p^^" Ji^z^ra: :^: On V- \wzw. a What be-e-e-e-e-e-e-e ye all a- bout ? But lest we should be considered in^ddious towards the Church, let us turn to the eccentricities of some of the laity of our Downs. If the ^dllage church is frequently associated with some droll anecdote, so is also the tillage windmill. We rather like millers. They are a quiet, well-disposed race — useful members of the commonwealth, and frequently better read and better informed than their neighbours. They are generally ingenious mechanics, and they sometimes dabble a little in the arts of music, drawing, and SOUTH-DOWN MILLERS. 187 poetry, although these accomplishments may not often extend far beyond the playing of a few dusty tunes upon the German flute or clar'net, a " draught of our mill in full sail/' or a " copy of varses '' lauda- tory of the grinding trade. From a production of the latter class, which we remember having seen — fairly copied (though badly spelt) and affixed to a mill- post, we quote a specimen : — " The windmill is a Couris thing Compleatlj built by art of man, To grind the com for man and beast That they ahke may have a feast. " The mUl she is built of wood, iron, and stone, Therefor she cannot go aloan ; Therefore, to make the mill to go, The wind from some part she must blow. " The inotison of the mUl is swift, The miUcr must be very thrift, To jump about and get things ready, Or else the mill will soon run empty." Most sea-side health or pleasure-seekers have heard of the '':Miller's Tomb'' on High-down-Hill, near Worthing. Upon one of the most beautiful eminences on the range of South Downs, the eccentric " ^Master Oliver " prepared an altar-tomb, which he inscribed with scriptm-e texts and "verses of his own com- posing," surrounding the whole with an iron fence. In this tomb this singular character was deposited in the year 1793 — the eighty-fourth of his age. His funeral, which is still remembered by some old persons, was as quaint as his choice of a burying- place, and attracted thousands of spectators, not from the hills only, but from distant places. The pei-sons who carried the body to the grave were dressed in white, and many young women in garments of the same hue preceded and followed the coffin. On 188 THE SOUTH DOWNS, arriving at the spot, one of the girls read a sermon over the grave. We should like to know more of this eccentric being and his motives for eschewing conse- crated ground. He is stated to have been an inge- nious mechanic and to have constructed several singular automata, which were affixed to the roof of his house and moved by the wind. While on the subject of eccentric millers, we will, with the reader^s leave, step aside a little from the Downs to record a very curious tradition of one, whose mill stood, however, within four or five miles of the range ; of a portion of which it commanded a fine view. At Chalvington there once resided, as the \iUagers tell us, the only honest miller ever known. About a century since, this person, finding success in business impos- sible, in a fit of despair hanged himself in his own mill, and was biuied — as Avas then the practice Avith suicides — in a neighbouring " crossways." An oaken stake driven through his body grew into a tree, and threw a singular shrivelled branch, the only one it ever produced, across the road. It was the most sin- gular abortion of a tree we ever saw, and had some- thing extremely hag-like and ghostly in its aspect. The spot was of course haunted, and many a rustic received a severe shock to his nerves on passing it after nishtfall. The tradition was always received by the intelligent as a piece of superstitious folk-lore and the story of the only honest miller looked upon as fabulous, until about twenty-seven years ago, when a labourer employed in digging sand near the roots of the scraggy oak discovered a human skeleton. For this part of the histoiy we can vouch, having in our boyish days seen some of the bones. One remarkable physiological peculiarity is said to have belonged to MILLER COOMBS. 189 our honest miller — to wit, a tuft or "tot" of hair growing in the palm of each hand ! ^^ But the queerest miller commemorated in the traditions of the Downs was Master Coombs, a descen- dant of a race of men who carried on the same trade in the days of Edward the First. It was his boast that his antique little mill, not far fi'om Newhaven, had belonged to his ancestors from the days of Heiu'v the Eighth. ]Master Coombs once made a strong assevera- tion as to a statement he had put forth, that if it were not true he Avould never enter his mill again. Upon the statement being proved incorrect, he kept his word ; he would spend hours every day upon the upper step of the mill-stairs, but never, to the end of his life, did he venture to enter the building. One of Master Coombs's oddities was the painting of his mill- horse. ]Mounted on this steed he would astonish the denizens of some neighbouring village, who had never before set eyes upon a yellow horse ! The next week a whole market-town would be startled from its pro- priety by the apparition of the miller's horse in a coat of green. By another metamorphosis the poor thing looked blue, then rose-pink, and so on through all the varieties of tint iywproper to the equine race. In jNIastcr Coombs's days, some four-score years ago, miUers' carts were almost unknown, and the village ^' The substance of this anecdote was communicated to Notes and Queries, vol. iv. — Tlie ' tot of liair' is said to be the external denote- ment not of such a miller as Chaucer's — " Wei colde he stolen com and tollen thries, — " but of one who deals justly by his customers — giincUug their com only, not themselves. A north-country miller who was regarded as somewhat deficient in understanding was once accosted by a would- be wit with — "Well, miller, you're not an honest man ; where's the bunch of hair in your palm?" — "Oh," said the miller, "it's there safe enough, only it taks an honest man to see't ! " 190 THE SOUTH DOWNS. grists were carried home upon the l)ack of a horse. When to the weight of several flour-bags that of the miller himself was superadded, the poor beast had no light load to carry, especially in the then miiy con- dition of the roads. So Master Coombs, taking this into consideration, whenever his horse had an unusually heaw burden, instead of dismounting, used to take one of the bags upon his own shoulders, at the same time obser^dng with great complacency, " The marci- ful man is marciful to his baste ! " Like Parson Darby, poor Coombs was rather unhappy in the con- jugal relation ; but he acloiowledged that it was in some measure his own fault, as he had received a supernatural warning against the match. "As I was a gooin^ acrass Excete laine to be married at W church, I heerd a voice fi'om heaven a-saying unto me — ^ Will-yam Coombs ! Will-yam Coombs ! if so be that you marry Mary you'll always be a miserable man.^ .... And so I've always found it," he added, " and T be ^ miserable man.'^ Manv other traits of Miller Coombs might be added, but as they would tend to put both his veracity and his honesty into a bad light, in charity to his memory we will only say, that he bore a strong general resemblance to Chaucer's miller, and that no ' tot ' of hair is known to have grown in his palm. The notice of the stranger on his first visit to the South Downs is generally arrested by those great excavations in the escarpment of the hills — the chalk- pits, presenting as they do a perpendicular clifi"-like appearance of almost snowy whiteness, in strong con- trast to the green turf of the hills out of which they are scooped. We well remember the surprise of a little American girl on first viewing a chalk-pit. Her dehght at " a whole mountain " made of this, in her TALE OF A BUCKET. 191 estimation rare, material was unbounded. To use a slang phrase of lier compatriots, it exceeded all her preconceived notions — "by a long chalk ! '^ These hills are perforated in several places by railway tunnels of considerable length. During the formation of a short one which runs almost immediately beneath Lewes Castle, a laughable incident occurred. It was frosty weather, and the water-pipe in a cottager's kitchen being frozen up, the old lady of the house requested her next-door neighbour, a cobbler, to procure her some water from a disused well close at hand, blaster Crispin, who was a kind-hearted man, laid down his " lapstone " and proceeded at once to comply with her wish. The old well-bucket w-as duly lowered, turn after turn, until at last it reached the length of its rope^ when he felt a sudden jerk as if something hcQxy had been thrown into it, while sounds of loud and unearthly laughter rose echoing through the shaft. Crispin, frightened out of his wits, left his hold of the winch, and ran into the cottage, exclaiming, — " The Devil is in the well — I heard him roar, and felt him tugging at the chain — oh dear me ! " The cause of his consternation, however, was soon ascertained. The bottom of the well had been cut off in the forma- tion of the tunnel. The jerk had been caused by the throAving into the descending bucket of a great lump of chalk, while the roar Avliich accompanied the feat proceeded not from Pandemonium, but from some half-a-dozen excavators who had witnessed the act of one of their comrades and given vent to their merri- ment in a loud and long-continued peal of laughter. " As old as the hills " is a common proverb, but "as old as the chalk-pits" would imply a pretty respectable degree of antiquity, since if Solinus is correct, the Romans imported some of their chalk 192 THE SOUTH DOWNS. from South Britain. On the modern utilities of the chalk-pit it is unnecessary to expatiate^ as it affords us lime for the mortar of our houses, and the manure of our lands, while its flint supplies us Avith bottles for our wine, and its magnesia with medicine for our ailments. Full easy it were to multiply legend and anecdote, and to jot down a hundred sweet reminiscences of our favourite hills. But we have done. — We have far exceeded our original design, which was simply to rebut the charge of dulness and insipidity often brought against the South Downs. We feel conscious of our inability to do full justice to our theme. Oh that some heaven-inspired son«of song loved it as well as we do ! ^^ 1* One or two attempts to do honour to the subject in the voice of poesy have been made ; such as Hay's ' Mount Cabum,' Dunvan's ' South Downs,' and some fugitive pieces. We may add, that in an article on 'South Down Shepherds and their Songs,' by K. W. Blencowe, Esq., M.A., in the second volume of the ' Sussex Archceological Collections,' there are several interesting traits of olden pastoral life to which we have not alluded in the foregoing sketch. The autobiographical notice of Johia Dudeney, the South Down shepherd and philosophical schoolmaster, wliich accompanies that article, is, we venture to assert, hardly to be surpassed in its way. 193 ON YEW-TREES IN CHUECH-YARDS. It is a common question, " Wliy were yew-trees first planted in church-yards ?" — but I have never seen it satisfactorily answered. The popular notion is, that it was for a supply of bows, in the times when archery was not merely a pastime but a very necessary art. But this is untenable ; for in the first place the reb- gious feeling- of those days would have been violated by the removal of boughs from a tree standing within consecrated precincts. Then again the foresight of our ancestors must have been exti'aordiuary indeed, if it induced them to plant for such a purpose, a tree which, at its exceedingly slow rate of growth, would be at least half a dozen generations old before it could supply an equal number of branches adapted for the making of bows, the removal of which would besides have spoiled the tree. Now although in some districts the yew is comparatively rare, yet there was probably in the middle ages a sufficient quantity of it growing upon unconsecrated ground to answer the demands of the archer. Another prevalent notion is, that yews were planted in church -yards as a shelter for the sacred edifices ; but here again the slow growth of the tree presents itself as an objection; for the building would grow old long before the tree attained such maturity as to offer any material defence against destructive winds, whereas many other species of timber would, in the course of a very few yeai's, reach a sufficient height to be helpful in this respect. It must be noticed, too, that church-vard vews often stand 9 194 YEW-TREES IN CHURCH-YARDS. at such a distance from the building and in such situations as to render this supposition as unwarrant- able as the other. Why, then, were yew-trees first planted in church- yards? I think the reason must be sought in the veneration in which the yew, in common with some other evergreen trees, was held in times antecedent to the introduction of Christianity, not only among the classical ancients, but also among the barbarians of the north. It has been held sacred to funereal rites among nearly all nations — and it was in special esteem with the Druids. The great age of these trees in some church-yards forbids the idea of their having been planted subsequently to the erection of the l)uildings, or any others consecrated to the same forms of faith that may have occupied their sites. Accord- ing to the eminent botanist, Decandolle, the yews at Fountains Abbey and Crowhurst are each 1200 years old, — that at Fortingal, in Scotland, 1400, — while a fine specimen oftheTaxus baccata at Braborne in Kent must, according to the same authority, have been con- temporary with Solomon's temple, having reached what Fuller Avould have called the " stupendous anti- quitie " of thirty centuries. We know that it was the temporising policy of Augustine and the Roman missionaries to connive at many of the pagan super- stitions which they found on their advent into Britain. Predilections for sacred sites and objects were indulged. Thus a Druidical fountain lost none of its virtues in the popular mind if dedicated as a holy well to some saint, and many of the earliest churches arose upon spots previously dedicated to pagan worship, as within a Druidical circle. I think it is highly pro- bable, therefore, that from this feeling some churches may have been built in immediate proximity to sacred REJUVENESCENCE OF YEWS. 195 yews, and that afterwards — a symbolical meaning having been attached to the tree — it became customary to plant them in church-yards generally. Whether my theorj^ be right or wrong, the great age of some of the specimens referred to sufficiently proves that in those particular instances the church must have been brought to the tree, and not the tree to the church. At the same time, I willingly admit that the yew is one of the liveliest of all symbols of eternity, and therefore no inappropriate tenant of every Christian cemetery. Its evergreen foliage and its great longevity beautifully typifj'- that " world without end,'' which is the ultimate aspiration of the Christian soul. In some cases this tree is even rejuvenescent. I have seen one entirely hollow, next to nothing of it but its rugose venerable bark and a few green boughs remaining ; in the midst of which springing from the central roots there is a fair young stem which may some ages hence expand itself to a diameter that will burst asunder the tegument of the parent tree, and live on again, a fair and stately yew, till d\Tiasties shall have changed, and many generations of mortal men have found a long repose beneath its umbrageous arms ! 196 A LYTTEL GESTE OF A GREATE EELE. g^ iHcmorantium, The following ballad is based upon an incident related in Dr. Andrew Borde's ' Merry Tales of tbe Wise Men of Gotham,' fii-st published in the reign of Henry the Eighth. I have elsewhere' adduced arguments to prove that these gibes were written in order to lampoon the proceedings of a pubhc body connected, not as some writers have imagmed, with the village of Gotham in Nottingham- shire, but with another place of the same name on the southern coast. A Sussex trachtion, now nearly obsolete, connects this particular jest with the ancient town of Pevensey, so noticeable for its historical associations, and its venerable Roman and medieval castle. This is confirmed by the known fact that the learned, facetious, and eccen- tric physician for some time practised his science at that place. Like many of its neighbour towns, Pevensey had greatly decUned from its olden importance, and was hardly more than the shadow of its former self. Its charter of privileges as a Cinque-Port was, how- ever, retained in Borde's tune — and is so even at the present day. A person of " old Andrew's " temperament would therefore be extremely Hkely to seize upon the sayings and doings of the freemen of such a small municipality for the pvirpose of raising a laugh at their expense. Hence in all probability it is, that while some tradi- tionary jests redounding httle to the wisdom of the ofiicials of other decayed corporations are extant, the number of such stories related of Pevensey should be unusually large. They are, however, gene- rally of so very puerile a description as to be scarcely worth recording ; and even did they possess more point, it would be anything but fair towards the constituents of this ancient corporation, who are quite equal in intelligence and wisdom to their neighbours. The point of the jest before us lies in the drowning of an eel ! Now this is evidently an allusion to the old municipal practice, which obtained at Pevensey and some of the other Cinque-Ports, of destroy- ing criminals by castmg them into deep water. In the Custumal of • Archffiologist, and Joiu*nal of Antiquarian Science, 1842, p. 129, Sussex Archteological Collections, vol. vi, p. 207. A LYTTEL GESTE OF AN EELE. 197 Pevensey, as copied about the middle of the fourteenth century, we read : — " In judgments of the crown, if a man be condemned to death, tlie port-reeve, as coroner, shall pronounce judgment, and, being seated next the steward shall say, ' Sir, withdraw, and axe for a priest ;' and if the condemned be of the franchise, he sliall be taken to the town bridge at high water, and drowned in the harboiu* ; but if he be of the geldable [i.e., liable to taxes, wliicli the freemen were not], he shall be himg in the Lowy, at a place called the Wahztrew." On tlais singular mode of punishment, and still more singidar form of sentence, the Rev. Lambert B. Larking observes -. — " I do not remember ever before to have seen any Saxon form of sentencing a crimiaal to death. How courteous and considerate to the feehngs is the gentle " Sir, withdraw, and axe for a priest ;" and how coarse and rude by contrast with it is " You shall be taken hence to the place from whence you came, and thence to a place of execution, there to be hanged by the neck tiU you are dead" — a sentence only fit for a dog. The scene must have lost half its terrors by this gentle courtesy in announcing the doom of the law ; but, deny it who wUl, our Saxon ancestors were highly civilized, and gentlemen in all they did ; why, what a gentlemanly death was that reserved for the privi- leged burgess, to be shd off the port into the sea. Clarence and his Malmsey-butt is v\ilgarity itself compared with a "header" down to the " rocks where corals grow : " — " Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea change Into something rich and strange ; Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell." . . . Highly privileged were ye, ye men of Pevensey. " O for- tunati sua si bona norint ! " - But to our legend — % In dales when Popyshe governmente Ordajiied, agaynst our wislie, That men sholde, duryng time of Lent, Bothe dyne and suppe on fysshe — There liv'd a verie honest wight, A free-man of this porte, Who by his neyghbours Perkyn hight. (Hys other name was Shorte.) " Sussex Archajological Collections, vol. iv, p. 210. 198 A LYTTEL GESTE OF AN EELE. Now Perkyn never could awaie With dyet slyght and meane ; No man on tliys fatte lande^ they say. In better case was scene. Hys mutton and his marsh-fedde beefe Hee picked unto y^ bone^ Untyl he stoode in bolde releefe A man of twentie stone. A ryght goode catholyke was hee. And dulie payd his tythe. From cowe, and pigge, and fowle, and bee, From syckle and from scythe. But vet one item of hvs creede Went sore ageynst the wishe Of hys confessour. Father Speede He colde not dyne on fysshe. And in y* drearie tyme of Lente, By commonlie transgressinge The rule — on beefe or mutton bente — Hee loste the father^s blessyng. Tyll by adventure on a daye, Whyle wyth a neyghbour faring^, Hys heart was muche releeved, thei saye. By tasting a redde-heryng. A LYTTEL GESTE OF AN EELE. 199 Had Perkyu beene a learnyd wight. And kiiowne a bit of Greek, a Case more than likelie 'tis hee might Have cride alowde. Eureka ! But since of Latine and of Greek Hee nought at alle dyd knowe, As sone as joie wold let hym speake He onelie sayd "Hullowe ! " Why this is somethyng like a fysshe, " A relysshc new and gustful ! " And Holie Churchc of this same dishe " Wyl nevere be distrustfulle. " Noe more Til fret o'er Lenten chore— " Wyth eyght or tenne of these, " Wasshed down with goode Octobyr beere, " He dyne and suppe with ease." Arryved at home hee told hys wyfe His newe discovered pleasure ; Hee nevyr hadde, in al hys lyfe, Of joie so fulle a measure. Sayes Perkyn — '' Roger, ryde our nagge To Hasting, for to chuse Of these same ffysh a pretie bagge. To breede them uppe for use." 200 A LYTTEL GESTE OF AN EELE. Y* groome went foorth and soone was backe, (None eolde have rydden faster) Wvth fuUe three bushels in a sacke, And gave them to hys maister. " Judyth/' says Perkyn to his spouse, " My lovinge dame and fonde ; " We'll eate two busshels, and we^ll put "One busshel in owre pond. " When Lent comes next there sure will be " Of fiyshe a large incresse — " Enow for me and eke for thee, " For everie daie a messe." So from the sacke thei straightway drew Of heryngs all the best, Y^ wliiche into theyr ponde they threw — For foode resei-ved the reste. T[ Heere enclyth y'' fyrst parte of thejeaste of y^ Eele, and here doth folowe the seconde parte of the same jest e. Agayn is Lenten tyme come round, And layd aside is bcefe ; Syr Perkyn trustith from hys ponde To drawe a goode releefe. Sayes Perkin, " Wife, my angles fetch. And eke my rodde and lyne, I goe some heryng for to cacche, Methinks they'll prove full fyne/^ A LYTTEL GESTE OF AX EELE. 201 Unto his pond in blythesom sort Doth Perkyn hie, but, marry ! Fulle colde y^ weather for that sporte, At tFende of February. Sayes Perkyn, " Tis a fyshe that^s shie. And verie slowe to byte ; So I a nette must even trye, And dragge the ponde outright." So Roger, John, and Hykke he bade To bryng his fysshjnige nette ; But 'twas in vayne — with all theyr aide, No heryiig he colde get. Sayes Perkyn, " Thys wyl never doe ; I e'en thys ponde must drayne — Pull up the sluice ! " The water through Then foamed and dashed amayne. Eftsoones y* ponde is drayned right Of water every dele ; But nought appeares to Pcrkyn's sight Save one Greate Wrygglynge Eele ! " MaiTy ! " says Perkjm then, " I wis " My lucke is siu'cly cvyll — " Yon villaine Eele hath cate my fysshe ; " — Beshi'ew thee, ravenous Devyl ! " 9§ 202 A LVTTEL GESTE OF AN EELE. Now Perkyn, takyng uppe tlie theefe, In ireful raoode did saie : — " Thou shalt be punysshed to thy grief ; " For thou must dye streyghtwaye ! " " Goe hange hym, Maister," Roger sayd ; " Choppe off hys head/' quoth Hykke ; " Naye, burne hym, Syr/' says honest John, " For this soe knavysh trj^cke !" ^ Eche servaunt hadde a severall wysshe ; Roger a theefe dyd view hym — And as a traytour worthy Hykke Looked on hym. — " A foule heretyke/' Said John, " he is, to steale Lent fysshe, " By'r Ladye — I beshrew hym ! " ^ "Peace ! fooles/' says Perkyn, "fortis writ, " And in our Charter founde — " Tliat hee who murther dothe committe, " I' the haven must be drownde." Soe to y* bridge thei bare hym fast, To dye for that hys slawghter, And, withowte more adoe, thei cast Y* Eele into the water ! ! ^ To Father Speede the worthie deede Dyd Perkiu then rehersc, As hath beene either sunge or sayd. In our foregoing verse. CAPITAYLE PUNYSSHEMEXT. 203 " Vas. tecum ! ^twas well done/' quoth hee ; " And now, for thy releefe, '' (By paymg Holie Clmrche a fee) — " From fasting thou absolved shalt be "Go dine alle Lent on heefe !" Soe heere's an ende to Perkyn stout^ And eke to Father Speede ; The Eele his punisshemeut (noe dowte) Thought capytalle iudeede ! Portrait of Dr. Andrew Borde, from his "Boke of the Introduction of Knowledge." 20J< A DISCOURSE OF GENEALOGY. TevsciXoyia — the tracing of one's descent — the find- ing out of one's progenitors, avi, proavi, abavi, atavi, tritnvi, grandfathers, great-grandfathers, great- great-grandfathers, and their fathers and grand- fathers — is a passion inherent in the human family. Under all cu'cumstances of civilization — whether in Judsea, Greece, Rome, England, China, or New Zealand — it has been cherished with a fondness second only to the preservation of one's o^\^l personal honour and reputation. It is a theme that has em- ployed alike the pen of the classic poet, and the tongue of the barbarian bard and scald. It was the ambition of most heathen princes and chieftains to deduce their descent from the gods, as it is of modern potentates and nobles to trace up their lineage to the renowned and mighty men of far by-gone ages — and natm-ally; for in spite of the hackneyed Ovidian sentiment — " — genus, et proavos, et quae non fecimus ipsi, Yix ea nostra voco, there must of necessity be a pleasure and a pride in the assurance, or even in the probability, of a descent from distinguished progenitors. Men estimate the value of things by their rarity. Some excel in knowledge, others in poAver, others in wealth. These are all extraordinary advantages, attainable but by the few; honoured and respected, if not aimed at, by the many. But a man, duly gifted and favoured, FALSE NOTIONS. 205 may become wise, rich, and influential, and yet want the qualification of a good or noble descent. It cannot be bought with money, or acquired by wis- dom or by power. The poor may become wealthy, the ignorant wise, the feeble potential ; but no man may reverse the decrees of fate and make his dead progenitors what they were not. Nobility of birth is transmissible to an idiot ; but the "svisest, the richest, the mightiest, has no more to do with the selection of his ancestry than he has with the origination of his own existence. Among the democratic tendencies of our o^vn times none is more striking to the thoughtful mind than a disposition to despise pedigree. Titular rank and a good descent are held in little estimation by the mul- titude. The sentiment of Burns — " The rank is but the guinea's staiap, The gowd's the gowd for a' that," is a favourite one, and when made use of before a plebeian auditory is sure to secure a large amount of applause. And why ? Because it flatters the self-love of every man, worthy or unworthy, and places him, in his own conceit, upon a level with the greatest. But how often, in these cases, is there the want not only of the stamp, but of the precious metal too. Burns himself, in spite of his genius (and that by the way is much overrated by his countrymen), was sadly de- ficient of both the one and the other. It is not the least among the defects of his moral natm'e that he too often delights in representing tbe great as the " natural enemies^' of the poor. Accepting his creed, we shoidd imagine that every human virti:fe is asso- ciated with poverty — all that is base in our nature with the possession of rank and its concomitant wealth. 206 A DISCOURSE OF GENEALOGY. To what bad passions does he pander in such efiPusions as this : — " See yonder poor o'erlaboured wight, So abject, mean, and vile, Who begs a brother of the earth, To give him leave to toil ; And see his lordly fellow-worm The poor petition spurn ; Unmindful though a weeping wife And helpless offspring mourn ! " Happily for the peace of society, such sentiments are daily losing ground, and the wider diffusion of the principles of a sound political economy will, I trust, ere long dissipate the monstrous idea that the great and wealthy are from the nature of their position neces- sarily wanting in sympathy towards their less-favoured brethren. But to return : those who affect to despise rank closely resemble the fox in iEsop, which thought the grapes that grew hopelessly beyond his reach particu- larly sour. The people Avho sneer at ancestral honours, and deride heraldry as a by-gone folly, are always those who have no genealogical roll to fall back upon — no " family evidences" to prove that their forefathers had a coat (armorial or otherwise) to their backs ! Let their philosophy go into partnership with that of the poor wretch who pronounces learning useless, because he himself cannot read, and despises, or affects to despise, wealth, when he has not half-a-crown in his pocket. The truly wise man is a truly contented one. If he is poor, he does not coA^et affluence — if he lacks influence, he is not ambitious. So also, if he is not of gentle birth, he does not repine at the want of gen- tilitial distinctions. But because he does not possess the first, the second, or the third, he is not therefore DESPISERS OF PEDIGREE. 207 necessarily insensible to their inherent value. We have never known a man whom in our judgment we could pronounce wise or judicious who despised a good descent. ^A^e never yet met with one who did not, on the contrary, feel a degree of pleasui'e in being able to point to well-born ancestors, and regard pedigree as quite as essential a thing in himself as in his own horses ! " Well,^^ perhaps the caviller will say — '^ I stand upon my own merits; what matters it Avhether my predecessors were wise or foolish, poor or rich, gentle or simple ? " Stay, my friend ! Do you call yourself a patriot ? Can you consistently say with Terence, " Homo sum ? " If you stand entii'ely upon the Pharisaical platform of your personal excellences, it matters little Avhether your forefathers were English- men, Turks, Laponese, or Bushmen, — whether they were made in the likeness of God, or in the degraded image of the oran-outang or the baboon. For to be a patriot you must have a national pride, which is in a modified sense to be proud of yom' descent — to be proud of your manhood, yon must felicitate yourself upon the fact of your not having been hatched by a vulture or spawned by a toad ! Again ; is there any man so besotted as to be re- gardless whether his progenitors were brave, healthy, virtuous, honest — or whether they were mean, pitiful scoundrels, the scum and ofFscouring of the earth ? No, verily. Tell your self-sufficient reviler of pedigree that his grandfather was dishonest, or his great- grand- mother unchaste, and he recoils at once Anth indigna- tion from the impeachment, be it mere calumny or plain, undeniable truth. The evil fame of base ancestors he feels to be a reproach — an injury to himself. The truth is that he, in common with all mankind, respects 208 A DISCOUKSE OP GENEALOGY. descent as a matter of feeling, however slig-litingly he may affect to regard the qualification of a good and unblemished ancestry in his ordinary conversation. I will therefore reiterate the sentiment with which I set out j namely, that a love of ancestry is a passion belonging to our common nature. It is deeply seated in every virtuous mind, in spite of the modern cant which pretends to despise it, and treat it as a thing of nought. Men not unfrequently by a per- version of reason, like that which induces some to boast of their own vices, profess to disregard that which they in reality respect. Were an illustration in proof of this obsenation required, I could adduce from a recent "autobiography" some very sarcastic remarks on family history and the fatility of genealogical honours and long lines of descent, wdth not a few sneers at " griffins, mermaids, and other monsters which ought to be exploded from modern education, and from the language of science and art." But that the writer is attempting to expel with a fork that nature which will reassert herself is rather ludicrously shoT\Ti on the self-same page, where he tells his readers, with no little complacency, " A family coat of arms T could display, fully emblazoned, from an old stone authority, and might use it as the Arms ; but this would subject me to taxation, and my taxes are abeady more weighty than pleasant.^^ It is an easy matter to flourish rhetorically upon this subject, and to quote such hackneyed couplets as — " What can ennoble sots, or slaves, or cowards ? Alas ! not all the blood of aU the Howards " — but it is by no means an equally easy thing really to scorn a derivation from a noble, historical, and virtuous race, or to regard a man as something the GENEALOGY DISTINCT FROM PRIDE OF RANK. 209 worse for such a descent. It is only when he post- pones honoui', morality, and every excellent attribute to the pride of ancestry, that he becomes truly worthy of om' contempt ; and it is willingly admitted that he who rests liis sole claim to the consideration of society upon the musty evidence of a parchment scroll, hoAv- ever elaborated by heraldric art, is a truly despicable object. I know not which is the greater fool — the man who has nothing to boast of but a good descent, and who makes no effort to support in his own person the dignity of worthy ancestors, or he who despises pedigree in toto. Fool the First would be a better man were the axe laid to the root of his genealogical tree, and he rendered obliA-ious of the past : Fool the Second should never plant such a tree ; for how can one who takes no pride in ancestral wtues expect to be ac- tuated by those ennobling principles which should make him a model and pattern for his descendants ? But I have been in some degree carried away from the object of this discourse, which is not intended so much as an apology for what is called " good blood " or gentilitial distinctions, as an inquiry into the in- terest and utility of genealogical investigations as a science — a science which, I venture to predict, will ere long occupy the intellect and the pens of many by whom it has hitherto been to a great extent neglected. It is a vulgar and very unreasonable mistake to suppose that a love of pedigree (or, more properly speaking, the genealogical taste) relates solely to the illustration of ancestries that have played a con- spicuous part in the history of our species, or that have been distinguished by the possession of broad lands and transmissilile honours and titles. It is not so ! As tbe naturalist cx})atiates with equal delight upon the structui'e and habits of the beetle and those of the 210 A DISCOURSE OF GENEALOGY. elephant, so the true genealogist feels as much pleasure in searchmg out the records of a yeomanry stock, or in tracing the descent of the humblest plebeian, as in imparting additional lustre to the coronet of nobility. He would as gladly see the Family Bible of every intelligent cottager adorned with the registers of birth, marriage, and death, for a few generations, as he would endeavour to throw light upon the deeds, titles, and alliances of the peer. For my o^vn part I would wish every family to preserve their pedigree as the ancient Jews did, irrespectively of social position and the possession of riches. The moral benefits of such a practice would be very great, for men would learn — or rather would not be permitted to forget — by how many ties of consanguinity the families of a district, a county, or a nation are connected. It would then appear that many who now toil and plod at the base of the social mountain, earning every day's bread vnth the sweat of their brow, are the collateral kinsmen of those who range its summit in all the splendour of wealth and distinction. It would also be shown how some families have ascended from the vales of poverty to the high places of the earth, and how others, by a decadence more or less gradual, have descended from positions of influence and wealth to those of insignificance and penury. Old Camden has weU remarked, that "the High are descended from the Low, and contrarimse the Low from the High." Not a few of the peers of this realm spring ft-om graziers, bakers, barbers, and day-la- bom-ers. On the other hand, some men now ride on the box whose ancestors rode inside the carriage, while others serve in the kitchen whose progenitors com- manded in the hall. In the veins of many a poor LOFTY ANCESTRY OF HUMBLE FOLK. 211 country gentleman flow Plantagenet blood and the ichor of heroes. Indeed there are few families of re- spectable antiquity who do not in some way or other, thi'ough female ancestors^ " deduce their birth From loins enthroned and princes of the earth ; " and claim equally with jNIsecenas the atavis edite Regibus. Well may Shakspcare demand — " What ! will the aspiring blood of Lancaster Sink in the ground? I thought it would have moimted." Mr. Charles Long, in his ' Royal Descents/ observes that " when once you are enabled to place your client in a current of decent blood, you are certain (by a slight Hibernicism) to carry him up to some one of the three great fountains of honour, Edward the Third, Edward the Fii'st, or Henry the Third ; and in fami- lies of good, or even partially good, descent the deducing of a husband and wife from all the children of Edward the Third, and all the children of Edward the First, has been successfully established by per- severance and research." On the other hand, Mr. Long satisfactorily shows the right of a carpenter, a gravedigger, a saddler^ s apprentice, a shoemaker, and a tailor, to quarter the royal arms as Imeal descendants of Edward the Third ; while a still greater disparity presents itself in the descent of George Wilmot from King Edward the First. Poor George in 1845 kept the turnpike-gate at Cooper's Bank, near Dudley, almost contiguous to ' the verv walls of those feudal towers that gave name to the barony' of which he was a genuine and indisputable coheir. The following considerations will serve to show how wonderfully men and families are knit together by the ties of blood. AMien one reflects that his ancestry doubles in every ascent, or, to speak more correctly, 212 A DISCOURSE OF GENEALOGY. increases in a two-fold geometrical progression, he will easily see this. Thus, as everybody has one father, two grandfathers, four great-grandfathers, eight-great great-grandfathers, and so on (the case being of course the same on the female side), if we go back to the time of King John, which (allowing three generations to a century) would be about nineteen generations, we shall find that in the space of little more than sLx centuries, every one of us can boast of the astounding number of five hundred and twenty-fom- thousand, two hun- dred and eighty-eight ancestors ; that is to say, that the blood of more than half a million of the human race flows in our veins. This calculation supposes, however, that all one's male ancestors have married strangers in blood, which has probably not been the case in any instance. A few matches with cousins, near or remote, vastly reduce the number. Black- stone, long since, called attention to this multitu- dinousness of ancestral relations, in his 'Commentaries,' where he gives a table of numbers extending to the twentieth genealogical remove. At thefortieth remove, a period extending over about sixteen or seventeen hundred years, the total number of a man's progenitors amounts to more than a million millions ! The same eminent lawyer also shows, from the most satisfactory data, that "we have all now subsistinsr nearlv two hmidred and seventy millions of kindred m the fifteenth degree; and if this calculation should appear incom- patible with the number of inhabitants on the earth, it is because by intermarriages among the several descen- dants from the same ancestor, a hundi'cd or a thousand modes of consanguinity may be consolidated in one person, or he may be related to us in a hundred or a thousand different ways " — and that without our being aware of it ! ALL MEN BRETHREN-. THE TWO TUPPENS. 213 It is thus that I account for the extraordinary re- semblance, both personal and mental, often occurring between persons not recognised as kinsmen. "We know how both physical and intellectual characteristics are often transmitted by overleaping several generations and reappearing at intervals like a comet. A due consideration of these facts would be of great moral advantage to mankind, as serving to induce a kindli- ness of feeling to all, whether lowly or exalted, since we know not by how many ties of blood they may be connected with us, — in a stronger sense than is usually affixed to the words, "All men are Brethren." I may append here a little illustrative anecdote. About seventy or eighty years since, a shepherd named Tuppen was sent by his master, who resided near Eastbourne, Sussex, to drive some sheep into South Devon. The man ha\-ing discharged his commission was returning homewards from his somcAvhat toilsome pilgrimage, when, on passing a cottage at least tAvo hundred miles from his own habitation, and on a spot which he had never before visited, he was greeted with the familiar words, " How d'ye do. Master Tuppen ? " The shepherd with a rather Ijewildered air tm'ned round and found that the salutation had been addressed to him by a peasant's wife, the tenant of the cottage, a person of whom he had not the slightest knowledge. He told her as much ; where- upon she apologized by saying that she had mistaken him for one Master Tuppen, a man who lived in a neighbouring hamlet, but of whom the Sussex shep- herd had never heard. There can, however, be no doubt of the common origin of these two " Master Tuppens," though all remembrance of kindi-ed was lost. To return — All ancient nations seem t(j have pre- 214 A DISCOURSE OF GENEALOGY. served genealogies^ of at least their more powerful families, with a scrupulousness little regarded among the most civilized nations of the present day; and even novr some of the barbarous peoples of the East and of the southern ocean, though ignorant of any graphic art, preserve by oral tradition the names of their ancestors for many generations. It would be far from fair to infer fi'om this, that a love of genealogy is a feeling more adapted to barbarians than to ci\i- lized men ; for we find that the greatest nations of antiquity, the Greeks and the Romans, cherished it as well as the rudest. How often do we meet in the classical writers of history and biography expressions implying the respect in which a good descent was held. Perhaps the reason why in modern times so much less respect has been paid to it lies in this. The feudal system of the middle ages having acted oppressively upon the lower orders of society — on the abolition of that system, the plebeian part of mankind, regarding genealogical honours as one of the prerogatives of their ancient oppressors, and possessing little power to discriminate between cause and concomitant — between what was essential to the existence of the old misrule, and what was merely a harmless oflFshoot of it — viewed them with positive dislike. Another cause of the unpopularity of genealogy may be the arrogant tone of the majority of its advocates in old times. After feudalism had passed away, and the revival of literature, consequent upon the invention of the printing-press, had revolutionized society by the abrogation of old stereotyped forms of thought, there arose a department of literature hitherto scarcely known, the design of which was to assert the super- excellence of lofty birth, and to degrade plebeianism to the dust. All the old heraldric writings from Dame HIGH BLOOD V. LOW BLOOD. MISCONCEPTIONS. 215 Juliana Berners' * Boke of St. Alhan's ' down to John Guillim^s ' Display/ arc more or less tinctured with this supercilious contempt of whatever relates to humility of birth and position. Between the " gentylman " and the " un-gentylraan" these writers attempt to fix a great and all but impassable gulf — a barrier based upon assumptions as ridiculous as those which diAddc the Castes of Hindostan. In this they were but pandering to a pride really entertained by too many of their patrons ; for the proprietor of an estate in Carolina or Virginia^ in oiu' own days, scarcely carries himself more haughtily towards his negro slaves, than did mauy of the " noblesse " of those times towards their humble, though now manu- mitted, neighbours. With a contempt (among right-minded men of all classes) for such arrogant pretensions, there not un- naturally arose, among plebeians^ a dislike of the ex- ternal denotements of nobility ; and heraldric distinc- tions began to be viewed as the symbols of a worn-out and obsolete wrong. This feeling is still entertained by many intelligent persons, who do not seem to have sufficiently reflected upon the distinction which I am anxious to establish between the mere pride of high birth, and the real interest attaching to scientific genealogy. In order to make my meaning fully imderstood, it may be well to glance at the origin of heraldry, and to^dndicate it from the sneering defini- tion that has been applied to it, viz : " The science of fools with long memories.^' Notwithstanding the extravagant antiquity ascribed to heraldry by the writers of the sixteenth and seven- teenth centuries, who assigned armorial bearings to all the distinguished persons of the earliest ages, there is not any evadence to prove that the science 216 A DISCOURSE OF GENEALOGY. existed until within the last seven centuries. Ac- cordinjj to the best modern authorities^ the latter half of the twelfth century fm^nishes us with the first actual specimens of the armorial shield. Mr. Planche, who is the latest, as he is unquestionably one of the best, writers upon the subject, after the research of many years, cannot discover one instance of a shield decorated with heraldric insignia before the year 1164, when the lion -rampant of Philip I, Count of Flanders, occurs upon his seal. " There is, we re- peat, no proof of the existence of heraldry — by which we mean an arrangement of the lines, colours, and figures, that make up what are called coats of arms by a certain fixed and systematic code of laws — until the twelfth century. Even om' honoured national ensign, which is boastfully described as having borne the brunt of breeze and battle for a thousand years, has only enjoyed that honour for some six centuries and a half; the three golden lions-passant-guardant appearing for the first time upon the great seal of Richard Coeur de Lion, in the year 1195. We do not sav that shields and banners were not decorated with certain symbolical figures at a much earlier date ; there is abundant evidence that they were from the remotest periods so adorned. Art in some respects as well as Nature may be said to abhor a vacuum. The broad face of a well-formed shield, and the graceful expanse of a floating banner, invited ornamentation, and ac- cordingly we find the buckler of the Homeric hero and the earliest flag of the barbarous chieftain alike enriched with apposite devices ; but these, beyond perhaps the suggestion of the original idea, had no relation to the hereditary armorial compositions of the middle ages. Feudalism, the Crusades, and the adoption of fixed hereditary surnames in the families EARLY HERALDRY. 217 of the greaft, may have all had some hand in the origination of heraldry, as they all certainly promoted its growth ; but we search in vain among the records of the times for the first germ of a science or practice — call it what you will — which adds so much of the picturesque and the romantic to the days of the Plantagenets and Tudors, and which led to the pro- duction of some of the most extraordinarv books that exist in the whole circle of European literature/^ ^ Early heraldry, it is hardly necessary to state, was always connected with war. In the older times the eagle had been the standard of imperial Rome, and Saxons and Danes had respectively flocked around their banners of the Avhite horse and the raven. Under feudalism every baron and well-landed knight was a petty sovereign, and as such had his own parti- cular banner, and this not so much as a matter of ostentation as one of actual necessity, for the better rallying of his dependents upon the battle-field, where many of these little feudal armies were aggregated against the common foe. It was not until the banner of a particular race had been rendered conspicuous by the prowess of its successive owners in Crusade or other remarkable war, that it began to be regarded as the symbol or external sign of the virtues of a family, and to be looked upon as a thing Avhich elevated it above the general mass of manldnd. Thus what had been among the indispensable accessories of medieval warfare soon became almost equally indispensable as a guarantee of social status. The armiger or " arms- bearer,'' however remotely descended from the head of Ids race, counted himself as a gentleman : all other men were reckoned plebeians, churls, servi, villaui, bondmen ; in one word — in the phrase of the ' Boke > M. A. L. in Retrospective Review, Feb. 1853. 10 218 A DISCOURSE OF GENEALOGY. of St. Alban's ' — " ungentylmen." So originated the distinction between the upper and the loAver classes of Eui'opean society ; for what is called the middle class was throughout the middle ages very unimpor- taiitj and it has only been fully developed within the last two centm'ies. But as society advanced, and the cramping in- fluence of feudalism was removed, many persons of humbler birth emerged by the force of their wealth or talents, or both, from the undistinguished mass of the people, and took up a position among the families of ancient blood. A novus homo was looked upon then as in old Roman times, or in our own, naso adunco; but the fault of a plebeian origin is one that cures itself in time, since each successive generation conduces to the antiquity of a race, and helps to throw into obscurer distance the circumstances of its be- giiuiing. And thus, in course of time, war, merchan- dise, learning, law, physic, di\inity, philosophy, and other less honom'able means, each added its quota of families to the patrician side; and all these new additions came in a short time to be regarded (by the majority at least) as upon a par with the oldest Nor- man and Plantagenet blood. Now, these families, both old and neAv, embraced nearly all the persons of moderate education in Eng- land. (I speak of this country only, but the observa- tion applies equally to others.) Few besides persons of gentle bii'th knew how to read. The common people had few incentives to intellectual pleasures. The romance attaching to a long descent was dis- regarded or unappreciated by them. The gentry, on the other hand, were all more or less pleased with pedigree, and no gentleman's education was supposed to be finished untU he had become expert in the TYRANNICAL CONDUCT OF THE HERALDS. 219 technicalities of heraldry. The practice of heraldic Visitations also tended much to encourage such tastes. About three or four times in a century, the heralds, upon the authority of their College and ^vith the sanction of the Earl-Marshal, ^nsited every coimty, and, taking up their quarters (after the manner of " re^'ising barristers ^' in our times) in the principal towns of the county, summoned all the resident gentry of each district, on a certain day and hour, to appear before them to prove, by sufncient documentary evidence, their right to bear arms ; as also to furnish data for the establishment of their pedigree, which was duly registered in the 'vdsitation-books,and attested by the signature of the representative of the family. This custom originated in the reign of Henry the Eighth, and was continued till that of James the Second. It seems to have fallen into disuse in con- sequence of the great dislike of the nation generally to the unconstitutional powers exercised by the officials. These men, under the sanction of a royal commission, promoted by the Earl-]\Iarshal, went so far as to "reprove, controul, and make infamous by proclamation at c(;urts of assize," all persons who unwarrantably assumed the title of Esquire or Gentleman. This was in the reign of Charles I ; and although things \a ere not driven to such extremities under his sons Charles II and James II, the heraldic prerogative, mth its invidious distinctions and heavy fees, was considered inconsistent with the rights of the subject, and these inquisitorial Visitations fell into disrepute. The truth is, that since the days of the Tudors the old Norman blood had Avellnigh become extinct in male lines, and the existing aristocracy had become a melange of ancient houses and families of comparatively recent growth, so that the old exclusive idea, of which so 220 A DISCOURSE OF GENEALOGY. much has been said, had almost died out. It could no longer be said with one of our oldest poets — " Of the Normans be these high men that dwell in this land, And the low men of Saxons." The spirit of ''John Bull-ism ^^ had been much fostered by two great political events — the revolutions of 1642 and 1688. Class distinctions were to a very large extent merged in the vital question of civil and religious freedom. On both occasions men of very opposite birth and position had fought the battle of great principles under a common banner, and had felt how necessary each was to each — a feeling never fully admitted before. Thenceforward the slang expressions " Tory " and " Whig " may be said to have occupied the antagonistic positions erewhile assumed by the so-called gentle and ungentle. In the abolition of great injustices and abuses, mankind are very apt to do away with some harmless or even useful things, simply because they have been associated Avith those evils. Thus, in the Protestant Reformation of the sixteenth century, the cross, the very symbol of our common Christian hope, because it had been prostituted to idolatrous uses by the Romanists, came to be regarded by many sincere- minded, but [mejudice] mistaken, men, as a thing to be avoided and spurned at. So, because feudal tjT^anny had wrought great and manifest wrongs, heraldry and genealogy — which were, as I have already said, not merely harmless concomitants, but really and in themselves (as I shall further attempt to prove) useful things — came to be considered as shreds of a rotten and injurious system. That a taste for family history may exist without anv degree of what is called aristocratic pride is ARMS ASSUMED BY UPSTARTS. 221 evident to every one at all acquainted with general society. I could mention some of the yeomanry class and others of similar rank, men of moderate educa- tional attainments, who are skilful genealogists, and know a great deal more of their ancestry for a few centuries upwards than do the generality of the titled classes themselves. But while this taste for the science of genealogy is cultivated by many, a much larger nimiber unscrupulously assume that ex- ternal mark of a good descent, a coat of arms, without the least regard to ancestry whatever. That ^adgarly "genteel" class of people, who, not content with the honest names of Smith and Taylor, metamorphose themselves into Smvthes and Tavleiu'es, boldly assume the armorial ensigns of weU-knoT^^l ancient families, and hope by this transparent piece of trickery to im- pose upon the incurious part of society. As soon as people reach the sunny side of the " middle class," tliey usually assume, along with other consequential airs, a coat of arms, which they parade upon every earriagc-pancl and teapot in their possession. Instead of acquiring this distinction in a fair, honest way, at the Heralds' College, at a cost of some fourscore pounds, they either call to their aid some seal-en- graver, by whom arms are "found," or consult a dictionary of heraldry, and without any compunction of conscience adopt the family ensigns of others with whom in all probability they are in no way connected. Happily for these people the heraldic Visitations have ceased to be ; for I believe that not a fourth of the arraigcrons class of the present day can prove their right to the arms they bear. Others, who wish to adopt "ensigns of honour," go about their acquisition in a more honourable way, and pay the €78. 15*. to the King of Arms and his 222 A DISCOURSE OF GENEALOGY. official subjects^ for a new coat. But this straight- forward conduct, instead of being regarded in its proper light (as an honest avowal that the purchasers are novi liomines), exposes them to the contempt of the class which they aspire to join, no less than to the envy of that which they are quitting, and thus, like the bat in ^Esop, they get flouted on every hand. Now I should like to see the practice of bearing arms largely extended. Every family choosing to bear arms should have liberty to do so upon payment of a small annual tax for the pri^dlege, as at present, to Government. This should be done as no matter of vanity, but purely, as in the earliest days of heraldry, as one of distinction — of genealogical, not of aristo- cratic, discrimination. Stubbs, and Boaks, and Tirapkins, and Joblings, should have their own proper coats as well as Neville, and Beauchamp, and Chol- mondeley. This may seem a somewhat startling proposal, but it is far more feasible than at first sight it may appear. To some it may seem that heraldry is unable to admit of so large an expansion — that the multiplication of coats armorial to such a degree would exhaust the stock of hei'aldi'ic materials. But this is by no means to be feared. AVith one half of the charges now borne in arms, variously combined, according to the existing rules of heraldry, every respectable family in Christendom might be supplied with its peculiar ensign. By a principle somewhat analogous to that of arithmetical permutation, a com- paratively limited number of simple elements might be so disposed as to produce an infinite variety of armorial designs. And in order that this plan sliould be successfully carried out, I would have it regulated bv a central bodv of scientific heralds like that now composing the College of Arms, v>ho, for a small fee. EXTENSION or ARMS-BEARING DESIRABLE. 223 should deAase and register every coat. To all the various hranches of a family bearing a common sur- name, and within a traceable degree of kindred, 1 would of course assign a common coat of arms. This would greatly reduce the number of new bearings requisite. By the adoption of this plan the dishonest assump- tion of other people's property above adverted to would be aboHshed ; but other and more practical advantages would accrue from it. Without any profound ac- quaintance with heraldry we should be enabled to distinguish from each other, persons bearing a com- monly-occurring name. Thus instead of discriminating several Wilsons belonging to a particular circle by "Tall John/' "Lawyer John/' "Spectacled John," and such-like uncomplimentary phrases, well-informed people would distinguish neighbours by some promi- nent feature in their family bearings, such as " William Smith (fleur-de-lis)/' "Thomas Jones (cinquefoil)/' " James Browne (portcullis) ," and " Henry Robinson (red cross) ." This may be deemed picturesque trifling, but, even conceding this, there remains a real and tan- gible advantage which cannot be gainsaid — I mean the impulse which my plan would give to the study of genealogy, and the comparative facility with which after the lapse of a few generations family relation- ships might be traced. How many tedious and harassing chancery suits, more or less injurious to all concerned in them, might have been avoided, had some such simple practice been long ago adopted. We have knoMT:i instances where a pedigree was satisfactorily established up to a certain point, when all hope of carr\4ng it further was suddenly cut off by the occurrence, in parish registers or other public documents, of two persons of the same Christian nanu) 224 A DISCOURSE OF GENEALOGY. and surname living contemporaneously in the same place, but who were perhaps not in the slightest degi'ee connected by the ties of consanguinity. Everybody acquainted with genealogical investigations is aware that a coat of arms is a much safer guarantee of kin- dred than the orthography of a name. But long before this, some of my readers will have asked " "Would it not be absurd for the middle class to assume distinctions which were formerly accorded only to gentlemen ? " Let me endeavour to answer this question. The expression gentleman is perhaps one of the vaguest in the language ; as all men who wear decent apparel, from duke to draper's assistant, from ambassador to journeyman, from archbishop to parish-clerk, are, in the courtesies of the age, " gentle- men.^^ Every man, in short, who in virtue of any supposed qualification considers himself entitled to the respect of his neighbours, accepts the application of the phrase to himself without scruple, and applies it without hesitation to his acknowledged equals. But without admitting so great a latitude to the term, it is a matter of no small difficulty to ascertain wliat really constitutes a gentleman. The lawyer will tell you, after Sir Thomas Smith and Blackstone, that he " Avho can live idly, and Avithout manual labour, and will bear the port, charge, and coimtenance of a gen- tleman, shall be called master, and shall be taken for a gentleman. ^^ Hence in official lists and legal docu- ments, persons who, from inability or disinclination, adopt no trade or profession, although their yearly income should not exceed a hundred pounds, are styled gentlemen, while their opulent neighbours possessed of twenty times as much, if engaged in mercantile affairs, are designated by the name of their trades ; and hence it sometimes happens that a spend- WHAT IS A GENTLEMAN ? 225 thrift or imbecile son who cannot be trusted in his father's counting-house or behind his counter is styled " gentleman/^ while his respectable and worthy parent is described as "merchant/' " draper/' " printer/' or as the case may be. If we turn to the authority of the herald, although we find the use of the word a little more restricted, there is still much vagueness in its application. '' Gentlemen/' says my author, " have their beginning, either of blood, as that they are bom of worshipful parents — or, that they have done some- thing worthy in peace or war whereby they deserve to be accounted gentlemen." - So then, the sailor Avho took a fort in Hindostan by his individual prowess, or any "common hind" who has saved a fellow-creature from drowning, ought to be considered a gentleman. According to the same authority "a gentleman of what estate soever he be, although he go to plough and common labour for his maintenance, yet he is a gen- tleman."^ Such is the deliberate opinion of a "judi- cious herald" as promulged in a goodly folio under the "cavalier" period of the Stuarts ! " Done something worthy ! " Why, then, whoso- ever hath introduced some useful invention — written some good book — established some benevolent insti- tution — painted some beautiful picture — erected some noble building — constructed some convenient liigh- wav — built some commodious bridge — fulfilled some onerous office for the common good — reformed some vicious character — annihilated some ancient abuse — promoted the wcll-l)eiug of his native town — or " done something (that is anything) worthy," is a gentleman ! So be it, ^Master Herald ; may such gen- tlemen increase and multiply. Amen ! - ' Guillim'3 neraldrj-,' edit. 1679, part ii, p. loi. 3 Ibid. p. 155. 10 ^ 223 A DISCOURSE OF GENEALOGY. Now this is high heraldic authority ; and it is therefore clear that the number of families entitled to coats of arms is much greater than the number actuall}^ bearing them. For that must be a base and brutish stock indeed that has never owned as its head a man who has " done something worthy ; " and since it is argued that gentry is inextinguishable — that the offspring of a gentleman, " even although they go to plough/' must be gentlemen too, it shoidd follow that we are all, or nearly so, " gentlemen of blood," and therefore entitled, if we choose, to use armorial distinctions. Again, if we look at the "stuff" gentry was made of in old times, we may assert for the many a claim to be in all material respects upon a ground of equality with the gentlemen of the middle ages. According to the \Tilgar estimate, three things are essential to the being of a gentleman — " money, wit (that is knowledge), and manners." Now if we compare the nineteenth century with the fourteenth, or even with the seventeenth, we shall find that large section of our commonwealth known as the middle class far richer, better educated, and of more polished carriage and demeanour than the gentlemen of those older periods. If the claim to gentility be made to rest upon a comparative basis, then the " gentle " must always bear about the same numerical proportion to the " ungentle," as it did in the days of the Planta- genets and Tudors ; but if, on the contrary, gentility be a jjositive and inherent thing, and the "law of developement " applies to this as well as to other subjects, the proportion of the tnily "gentle" must become much greater as society advances in wealth, knowledge, and refinement. I hope my reader will not consider these remarks GENEALOGY CULTIVATED IX AMERICA. 227 inconsistent with those with which I set out. I wish to be understood that I esteem every person of " good conduct^ guidance, and conversation^' — possessed of a fair income, whether from realized property or from actual exertions — and enjoying the advantages of fair education and general intelligence — a gentleman. But while I claim this distinction for a numerous dass to whom it is not usually conceded, far be it from me to hold in disesteem the additional advantage of descent from an ancient family. While those qualities constitute what is essential to the true gen- tleman, this is an additional ornament. In the one case we have (to employ an architectural fignire) the simple characteristics of the Tuscan pillar — in the other those of the elegant Corinthian or elaborate Composite. But be the capital plain and simple, or be it gorgeous and ornate, the pillar is still a pillar, and equally calculated in either case usefully to uphold the fabric of society, and to be an essential part of every noble state and polished common- wealth. That a love for genealogical kno^^icdgc may exist to a large extent where rank and title are out of the question — that it may be cherished like any other branch of science for its own sake — is e\adenced by the Americans. It is well known that a taste for it prevails in the United States to a degree little dreamed of by the revilers of pedigree in England, and that not only among what is termed the " Upper Ten Thousand^' or republican aristocracy, but among the learned and intelligeiit of every class. Such a book as Farmer's ' Genealogical Register of the First Settlers in New England' (Boston, 1829) is a goodly and tangible proof, not only of the existence of the taste, but of the zeal and ability with which geuea- 228 A DISCOURSE OF GENEALOGY. logical researches are pursued beyond the Atlantic, lu his preface the editor remarks : " We are all curious to know something respecting those who have preceded ns on the stage of action ; and tl ere has been a cm'iosity among many of the present generation to trace back their progenitors in an uninterrupted series to those who first landed on the bleak and inhospitable shores of New England. And it is not improbable that the arrival of our puritan fathers will fonn a more memorable epoch in history than the Conquest of England does in that country, and that posterity, a few centuries hence, will experience as much plea- sure in tracing back their ancestry to those colonists, as some of the English feel in being able to deduce their descent from the Normans.^' The Americans too have succeeded in an attempt which has until quite recently failed on our side the water, namely, the establishment of Genealogical Societies. I have before me, 'An Address to the New England Historic- Genealogical Society,^ delivered last year by a vene- rable correspondent. Dr. AVilliam Jenks, some extracts from which will better exemplify than any observations of my own, the feeling entertained on this subject by many of our Transatlantic cousins. " The feeling [the love of pedigree] is natural. I belongs to om- very self-hood. It is a modification, doubtless, of self-love. But how much more liberal than the boast of riches, or the oppression of power ! How far more purifying and ennobling ! — since he who values his descent from an ancestry distinguished for any of the virtues, inherits also with this affec- tion, most generally, a disposition adverse to practices of a contrary character. 'Dedecorant bene natos culp?e,' said the Roman poet, as if he had cautioned thus : ' would you maintain the respect yom* pre- DR. JENKS ON GENEALOGY. 229 decessors have acquired, abhor everv^ raean and dishonourable thing.^ It becomes an axiom. " Then, again, as population advances, the relations of kindred seem gradually to become more and more faint. A brother is but what a cousin was in former times, when the population was sparse and its num- bers few. Now whatever tends to bring men happily together, and unite them in bonds of mutual regard, has an effect to purify and advance civilization, and render to society an antidote to the ruder and merely selfish propensities. This does the much- abused science of Genealogy." Again — " We require pedigrees of horses — we inspect wdth great care those of cattle — to ascertain the genuine- ness of their descent; and the keen-sighted, expe- rienced breeders of them acquire with the farmer, the sportsman, the independent gentleman, an almost enviable fame — but, is it not to be feared [in regard to human pedigree] that in multitudes of instances, as in the old countries of Europe, the pecuniary con- sideration outweighs immeasurably that which is merely physiological ? "I will pursue this subject fm-ther. The very hardships which are encountered by settlers, in such scenes as our country first exhibited to Europeans, call for energj^, inforce self-denial, demand frugality and good economy, strengthen the constitution, give health and vigour to the mind, and tend to prolong life. It has been said that a voyage across the Atlantic adds ten years to a raan^s life. How this may be, I will not undertake to determine. J3ut it is a fact that descendants of vounger branches of noble families, obliged to look out for themselves, and therefore claiming often the footless ' martlet' as their 230 A DISCOURSE OF GENEALOGY. peculiar licraldric designation, have been found in America, among the sons of industry if not of want. Yes, when riot and debauchery, or high, luxurious li\dng and indolence, have caused a ' noble ' family to become extinct — the offshoot, neglected and exposed, has gTown to be a sightly tree. The heir of the illus- trious and ancient house of De Courcy was discovered in a hardy seaman, sailing, nearly a century ago, out of the harbour of our own Newport ; and in my own time, the legitimate owner of the immense estates of the Grosvenors in a poor farmer of New York. The latter ncA^er inherited. The descendant of the former now possesses the family title and estates." And further : — " jNIany of our immigrants have, a long time since, and onward, brought badges of distinction with them, and still indulge the harmless vanitv — am I to call it ? — of keeping them. The badges to which I allude are coats of arms ; which have indeed their use, and an important use when authentic, in identifying families and proving descents. In these, our friends of New York are advanced far before us already, and have a system, brief however, published and in circidation. And, if its representations are admitted, our Wash- ington was not only of noble but royal lineage; and an admirable representative, it must be acknowledged, of regal dignity — ' one of Nature's nobles.' " As to George Washington's descent from nobility or royalty, I have not at hand the means of verifying the statement, though it is highly probable; as he was descended from a good familv in the county of Northampton. Like Oliver Cromwell, the American patriot was fond of genealogy, and corresponded with our heralds on the subject of his own pedigree. Yes, this George AYashington, the man who gave sane- ORIGIN OF THE AMERICAN STANDARD. 231 tion^ if not birth, to that most tlemocratical of senti- ments — that "all men are free and equal," was, as the phrase goes, a gentleman of blood, of ancient line, and of coat armour ; nor was he slow to acknowledge the fact. When the Americans, in their most righteous revolt against the tyranny of the mother country, cast about for an ensign hy which to distinguish themselves from their English oppressors, Avliat did they ultimately adopt ? Why, nothing more nor less than a gentle- man's badge — a modification of the old EngHsh coat of arms borne by their leader and deliverer. A few stars and stripes had in the old chivalrous times dis- tinguished his ancestors from their compeers in tourna- ment and upon battle-field : more stars and additional stripes (denoting the number of States that joined in the struggle) now became the standard around which the patriots of the West so successfully rallied. It is not a little curious that this poor out-worn rag of feudalism — as many would count it — should have thus axpanded into the bright and ample banner which now waves upon every sea ! It is to me a pleasing reflection that our American cousins, in spite of their great tendency to "go ahead," should now and then exhibit a strong retrospective taste also. Their novelists and poets, in common with our own, go back to olden days for sulijccts Avhereon to feast the imagination and refine the taste. The author of ' Bracebridge Hall ' is as much at home in the depicting of ancient scenes and the delineation of obsolete maimers, as our own Sir Walter Scott ; and there are touches in the best of recent American poets that equal, in allusions to by-gone things, the happiest strains in ^larmion. To adduce an instance from Longfellow's * Flowers :' 232 A DISCOURSE OF GENEALOGY. " Not alone in Spring's armorial bearing, And in Summer's green-emblazoned field, But in anns of brave old Autumn's wearing. In the centre of his brazen shield ; " Not alone in meadows and green alleys. On the mountain top, and by the brink Of sequestered pools in woodland valleys. Where the slaves of Nature stoop to drink ; " Not alone in her vast dome of glory. Not on graves of bird and beast alone, But m old cathedrals, high and hoary. On the tombs of heroes, carved in stone. " In the cottage of the rudest peasant. In ancestral homes, whose crumbling towers. Speaking of the Past unto the Present, TeU us of the ancient games of Flowers." One also notes with pleasure that a taste for the retrospective in the direction of genealogical research is manifesting itself in a people among whom even less than among the bustling denizens of the West it would be looked for — I mean the Society of Friends. The disparity between the emblazoned surcoat and crested helmet of old times, and the sober drab and broad brim of our own, which this allusion will call up, may suggest a smile, but to the thoughtful mind it suggests something besides. It is an additional illustration of the doctrine that "extremes sometimes meet,^' or rather of that higher one, that human nature will assert herself under all circumstances. " Natm-am expelles fioi'ca, tamen usque recmn-et, Et mala perrimipet furtim fastidia victrix." A love of ancestry is a passion of the human breast, whether that breast be encased in uncomfort- able gilded armour, or in supple broad-cloth of the soberest hue. For my own part I do not see why the sister Rachels and Rebekahs of the nineteenth cen- PLEASURES OF THE PURSUIT. 233 tury should not embroider a cushion Avith their family badge, with as good a grace as did the lady Isabels and Alionoras au armorial scarf for their champion knights in the fourteenth. The " coat of arms '^ has lost its association with deeds of blood, and is become a mere mark of family distinction, to which the Quaker has as good a right as the Commander- in-Chief. Let me now say a few words upon the pleasures derivable from genealogical investigations. To those whose sordid temper leads them to disregard every- tliing not immediately conducive to the accumulation of wealth or the gratification of appetite, the search after one's ancestors among damp tombstones, musty registers, and antiquated wills, may appear the ultimatum of human folly. But he who engages in the pursuit with intelligent zeal has an intellectual pabidum of which such men little dream — a pleasure far surpassing the excitements of the chase, the gra- tification of the palate, or the aggrandizement of riches. Apart from the accumulation of mere names, dates, and alliances, and the barren chronicle of births, deaths, and marriages, there is a. poetry in the study of genealogy such as is to be found in no other pursuit, except, perhaps, in the investigation of external nature. Some little hint occurs in an old will or in a time-worn epitaph, upon which the pedi- gTce-hunter dwells with delight, and out of which he frames a theory which may indeed be erroneous, but which is still harmless, and productive of a pleasurable feeling hard to describe — a joy with which the un- initiated stranger cannot intermeddle.* * There is perhaps scarcely a more amusing narrative in the Englisli language tlian one which seldom falls into tlie hands of general readers — Bell's Huntingdon Peerage. It details the parti- 234) A DISCOURSE OF GENEALOGY. It is not intended in this rambling dissertation to lay down any regular system of rules upon wliicli genealogical investigations should be based. Still it may interest those of my readers who have not yet paid attention to the subject, if I submit a few hints for their guidance. In the first place, I would say — in this, as in all other inquiries, let Truth be your great object. Few things are easier than to " vamp up" a pedigree, and to deduce yourself from " high blood." There is little difficulty in setting forth a genealogical tree which shall con^-ince your ordinary associates and friends that you have all manner of noble blood in your veins — that all the Percys and the Howards are your kins- men. This may be done — nay, is very often done without the remotest intention of trickery or fraud, by the simple and easy process of putting mere pro- babilities in the place of proven truths. How often do our genealogical writers of a certain class illustrate this remark ! A family of respectability happens to bear a name distinguished in the annals of our nation — a name which figures in that apocryphal document the Roll of Battel Abbey, in the Chronicles of the Barons' wars, in the muster-rolls of Crescy, or of the conflicts of the Roses, — and by a series of ingenious and impalpable dove-tailings they are made descen- dants of all that is noble and chivalrous from the " coming in of the Conqueror " to the present day. Mere coincidences in Christian names are made to assume all the force of proved identities ; and, worse than this, sm^names are t\^dsted out of all etymolo- gical propriety, and by the omission or insertion of a culars of a series of adventures engaged in, in mating good a title to an ancient peerage on behalf of the author's client, which was brought to a successful issue about thirty-three years since. SUGGESTIONS FOR THE STUDY. 235 letter or two, the veriest plebeiaiiism is engrafted upon ancient nobility. I will not vindcrtake the in- \-i(iious task of pro^-ing this by examples, which are scattered thickly enough over the pages of works produced for the twofold purpose of gratifying the vanity o{ parvenus, and filling the purses of the flat- terers. I shall say no more upon this disagreeable topic, but merely remark, that " the strength of a chain is the strength of its weakest link," and that consequently no pedigree is a sound one unless every link of descent is proved by evidence such as would satisfy any intelligent jury of impartial men. I will- ingly admit that there are cases genealogical, as well as legal, where, in the very nature of things, cir- cumstantial evidence must be accepted in the absence of direct proof. For example, if I find, in title-deed or other record, evidence that two persons of the same family name were possessed, in succession, ol the same estate, I conclude with little hesitation that they were of the same stock, although there may be no means of ascertainins: whether son succeeded to father^ brother to brother, or nephew to uncle. Nor does this much matter (provided only that some mark of the dubiety be acknowledged), since the proof of a common stock is sufficient. Our baron- ages Avill furnish abundant illustrations of my meaning. Secondly, my suggestion is — " Begin at the right caid.^^ Let no considerations of vanity lead von to jump to a conclusion that you are descended from the high-born and mighty. If you can establish this by a succession of proofs, like the steps in a geometrical proposition, Mcll and good; but pray remember, what has before been hinted at, the true intent of genealogy is to show who and what 'som' real ancestors were — not 236 A DISCOURSE OF GENEALOGY. to gratify personal vanity. Should they prove to have been men of humble position, do not therefore relinquish your investigations, or cast aside your labour as fruitless. The hunting of the hare some- times proves better sport than the chase of the wild- boar or the stag. By beginning " at the right end," I mean, let your inquiries be retrogressive — trace upwards from yourself — not downwards from some- body else. The latter course will almost certainly do for some other person, in whom you have not the slightest interest, what you designed to do for your- self, and so in the end be really a loss of labour; whereas the opposite procedure will certainly result in some gratifying fruits, and — to pursue an analogy just now mentioned — if you do not succeed in forging a long chain of precious metal, you will at all events have a strong and satisfactory one, though it may be of limited length and of less glittering material. Assuming that one knows comparatively nothing of his descent — not even perhaps the parentage of his grandfather — the best method of procedm-e is, first to examine with diligence any paper, book, or other like relic that may have come down from that ancestor. A title-deed of real property, however small, frequently assists in carrying back a pedigree from some generations ; while an old Family Bible often furnishes not only the direct line of descent but collateral branches also. Next to such som-ces of information, inquiries of one's oldest surviving rela- tive should be resorted to. By this means the inves- tigator may, in ordinary cases, with comparatively little trouble (or rather with no trouble at all, for the maxim. Labor ipse voluptas, applies here), ascer- tain his ancestry for at least five descents, or to the grandfather's grandfather. All such oral information MEANS OF ACQUIRING INFORMATION. 237 should, if practicable, be verified by searches in the baptismal registers of the parishes where the respec- tive progenitors have resided, and in this research much collateral information respecting marriages and ancestors in female Knes is almost certain to turn up. In making inquiries of aged people, care should be taken to note down remarkable incidents and anecdotes which occur in the course of conversation. By this means the dull recital of names, dates, and residences, will be enlivened, and suggestions of a useful character for subsequent investigations will sometimes result. What will most strike the ob- seiTant inquii'cr is the fact that he not unfrequently finds himself connected by comparatively few links with remote circumstances and events in a way of which he little dreamed. For example, the writer of the present pages (forty years old in this year of Grace, 1853) can show traditionary evidence of the existence of the Great Plague in London in 16G5, with the inter- vention of only two generations, through whom it has been handed down. His grandfather, who was born in 1735, was personally acquainted Mith an aged woman who had that dreadful disease in her early youth, and who survived it to rcacli an extraordinary age. The writer's father is therefore able to make the somewhat startling assertion — " ]Mv father knew a person who had the plague one himdred and eighty- eight years ago ! " Several equally remarkable in- stances are upon record.^ To return : it sometimes happens that your anticjuated informant, through decay of memory, has lost the Christian names of some still older members of the family, and can only recollect the place of their residence. A search in 5 See the early volumes of 'Notes and Queries ' for a variety of them, furuiblied by diilereut contributors. 238 A DISCOURSE OF GENEALOGY. the parish registers of the place indicated will gene- rally supply the desired information, and perhaps afford the means of adding several links to the upper end of your chain. An old tombstone or two in some neglected corner of the churchyard may also serve you mth valuable subsidiary testimony. Having exhausted these sources of evidence, one should next have recourse to the registries of wills preserved in every diocese, or, on failure there, to those of the archiepiscopal prerogative courts. Sir Harris Nicolas, in the Preface of his 'Testamenta.Vetusta,' observes : — ''Of all species of evidence, whether of the kindred or of the possessions of individuals, perhaps the most satisfactory is afforded by their wills ; and in many cases also these interesting documents ex- hibit traits of character which are more valuable, because more certain, than can possibly be deduced from the actions of their lives. Suggestions of in- terest, prejudice, and not unfrequently motives of revenge, may induce a witness either to misstate facts, or to give a colouring to them, which, although it may not violate truth, is, nevertheless, far from being strictly in accordance with it. But the corporeal suffering under which a man often labours when he makes his last testament — the solemn invocation with which it commences — the associations which it can- not fail to excite — and, above all, the recollection that the important document will not see the light until he is removed from that sphere where alone falsehood can be successful, or vice be triumphant — tend to render the statements in wills of unquestion- able veracity." But a will, especially one of old date, is valuable on other gromids than the sincerity of the sentiments which the testator puts upon record. Better than WILLS, PARISH REGISTERS, &C. 239 any other source of evidence, it illustrates habits of thought, modes of living, and the articles of furniture and of costume in use at diflerent epochs. It also fur- nishes valuable hints as to obsolete customs, venerated shrines, and the like. To the genealogist it supplies the most correct information as to the property and social status of the testator, and above all as to his collateral relations and descendants. A single will sometimes proves by its references thi'ce, four, or even five descents of a pedigree. From these two principal sources, parish registers and wills, then, one may, with a moderate degree of genealogical zeal, succeed in ascertaining his pedigree for a considerable number of descents. jNIany parish registers commence with the year 1538, and in most parishes where they have been carefully preserved they will be found to extend back to the beginning of Queen Elizabeth's reign, 1558. The Mill-registries generally are of earlier date — several going back to the fourteenth century ; but they are rarely indexed for more than a century or two, and a search in some of the courts is an almost hopeless task, by reason of the want of arrangement Avhich prevails. Much additional information connected with pedi- grees is contained in various public records — parti- cularly the ' Inquisitiones post Mortem,' and the 'Escheat Rolls.' As these documents furnish the names of the deceased's relatives, and mention his real pro- perty, they are of the utmost value and interest. An eminent legal authority. Lord Mansfield, very justly remarks, that since the disuse of this species of in- quiry in the seventeenth century, it has become more difficult to establish a pedigree for a hundred years, since that time, than for five hundred years before it. Then there are the Heralds' Visitations of the various 240 A DISCOURSE OF GENEALOGY. counties preserved in the College of Arms and in the British JNIuseum/ some of Avhich contain elaborate pedigrees, deducing the families from the earliest periods of genealogical record. There are likewise the curious rolls of arms of the reign of Ed- ward I, and later, which are of great value, as showing the true original heraldric bearings of the few whose privilege it was in those early times to make use of such distinctions. Numerous other sources of genealogical materials might be mentioned ; but should my reader desire to pursue the subject, I cannot recommend a more pleasant, or a more skil- ful, guide than Mr. Grimaldi, whose Oriyines Genea- lo(jic(B will afford all the information that can rea- sonably be desired. Here these desultory observations must close. Some of them have been expressed with more warmth than I intended, and I may appear to be somewhat of a zealot in the advocacy of a study w hich many of tlie oracles of the day decry and condemn. I trust, however, that I have not invalidated any argument by proving more than I intended, and that I have not attached to the science of Genealogy any greater amount of importance than in the mind of the dis- passionate reader it may appear to deserve. '' Sims's Index to the Pedigrees and Arms contained in the Heralds' Visitations in the British Museum, 8vo, London, 1851, is a work of great value to the genealogical inquirer, and prevents the loss of much useless labour. I hear also with satisfaction, that Mr. Sims is preparing for publication a work similar to the Origines — but on a more extended scale. 241 AN ANTIQUARIAN PILGRIMAGE IN NORMANDY. Normandy ! To Trhat numberless historical asso- ciations does the mere mention of this word give rise. By what a variety of ties is that province connected with our own Fatherland ! Separated by a mere strip of Ocean's domain from the land of our nativity, it is the very first foreign shore that a gi'cat proportion of English travellers set foot upon; and upon historical grounds, particvdarly, it is the very first that they ought to ^dsit ! It is a fair and pleasant land ; and, though widely differing in many important respects from England, is one where the well-disposed tourist can always succeed in making himself at home. The interest which I had long felt in the history of the distinguished family of De Warennc, whose alliances with royalty, great territorial possessions, and remarkable deeds in Anglo-Norman history, give them a prominent place in our annals, was consider- ably increased by the • discovery, under rather un- wonted cu'cumstances, of the remains — enshrined in little leaden coffers, inscribed "\nth their names — of "William, Earl of AVarenne, the first settler of his race in this country, and his countess, Gundi'ada, a younger daughter of William the Conqueror. This occurred in 184-5 on the site of Lewes Priory, a once magnificent establishment, which had been founded at the foot of their baronial castle by the noble pair themselves for their soids' health, and which became, 11 242 AN ANTIQUARIAN PILGRIMAGE in the course of the two or three succeeding centuries, during which they flourished in pristine splendour, the "long home" of their descendants. The dis- covery having been to some extent associated -with my own humble name, the feeling alluded to, grow- ing by what it fed upon, induced me during one of my brief summer visits to Normandy, to seek out the original habitat of so venerable a race. I had seen their grave, and was now anxious to visit their cradle. Accordingly, on a delightful morning towards the close of June, 1849, I found myself seated in the capacious voiture of my friend Monsieur P., who had kindly consented to become my guide and companion from la ville fidele, the town of Dieppe (so interesting for many an ancient reminiscence both English and French) to Bellencombre — a small bourg, situated about six leagues to the s.s.e. of that place — which in times anterior to the Norman Conquest had been the cunabula of the mighty race in wtiose fortunes I felt so great an interest. An hour's drive along the broad roads and over the unenclosed fields of the district brought us to La Chapelle, the residence of ^Monsieur de Breaute, member of the Institute, and a perfect type of the gentilhomme Francais, by whom we were courteously received, and treated with a view of his noble and comprehensive library. Here we met my friend M. TAbbe Cochet, the learned antiquary, who was to accompany us for the rest of the jom'ney, and wdio had been on a "\dsit of some days at the chateau. La Chapelle is situated in a pleasing country. The mansion is principally of brick, appa- rently of the date of the early part of the eighteenth century, and, as usual in this part of France, is approached by a straight avenue of lofty beech- trees. IN NORMANDY. 243 Taking leave of this abode of learned leisure and polished hospitality, we soon made our way to the town of Longueville, a spot intimately associated with Anglo-Norman annals, and calculated to awaken many emotions of regret in the retrospective mind of the antiquary. On entering the town one is struck by the appearance on every hand of fragments of columns, capitals, and other architectural remains, built into the houses. Should you enter a cafe you are likely enough to find it partly paved with medi- eval tomljstones, the spoils of the once famous abbey of Longueville. At the entrance of a druggist's shop your eye will rest upon a stone incised, in characters of the fourteenth century, with the legend, " Here lies the Lady Isabel .... pray God for her soul." — [Cy gist demoiselle Isabelle Priez Dieu j)our Fame.'] This desecration of a sepulchral monument would excite a feeling stronger than mere regret imder any circumstances, but it becomes especially reprehensible Avhen one is told with apparent proba- bility that this is no other than the tombstone of Isabelle d'Eu, Countess of Longueville, wife of Geoffry ]Marcel, governor of Pontoise, and castellan of Longueville, the great benefactress of the neigh- bouring abbev, within whose cloisters she was buried in the year 1339 ! " Pauvre chatelaine," observes M. Cochet, " cllc eroyait peut-etre qu'une ^-ie toute de bicnfaits suffisait pour lui assurer du moins la jouissancc de son tombeau, Helas ! elle ne savait pas que le temps devore jusqu';\ la picrre de la tombc : la vertu scule survit a la mort." ^ The truth is, that most of the houses of this little ' Les Eglises do rArrondissomcnt dc Dieppe (18 IG), p. 251. To this excellent work I am indebted for several of the historical facts noticed in this little sketch. 244 AN ANTIQUARIAN PILGRIMAGE town have been constructed out of the materials of the old Cluniac Abbey, the site, and some of the walls, of which are now occupied as a cotton-mill. Founded about the year 1084, by the famous Walter GifFard, Count of Longueville and Earl of Bucking- ham, one of the companions in arms of the Con- queror, this establishment subsisted more than seven centuries, but at length fell to destruction during the furor of the Revolution. The Castle of Longueville, to which we paid a visit, is now a picturesque ruin, and bears few traces of the period of its original found- ation. It must have been partially or wholly rebuilt at a much later date. The notion so prevalent in this country, that when a castle and a religious house stand in moderate proximity to each other, a subterraneous passage once connected the two edi- fices, also prevails with respect to this castle and the neigh bonring abbey. The parish church contains several features of considerable interest to the eccle- siologist, among which may be reckoned a number of encaustic tiles of the sixteenth centmy, similar in form and design to many I have seen in England, but of a blue and sea-green colour. Longueville stands on the little river Scie, along whose beautiful valley winds the Dieppe and Rouen railway. Here accordingly we took our seats in the train for St. Victor, the nearest available station for Bellencombre. The most striking object between the two points is the Church of Auffay, which, as viewed from the railway, presents a very striking and majestic aspect. St. Victor I'Abbaye has several points of interest for the English archaeologist. It belonged in what Ave call " Norman " times to the De Mortimers, famous alike on both sides of the English Channel, IN NORMANDY. 245 and descended from a common stock with the De Warennes. They had a castle here^ built upon an artificial mound, after the fashion prevalent in Eng- land for Norman keeps. On the decay of the fortress, this mound became inclosed within the circuit of the walls of the Abbey of St. Victor. The abbey itself had its origin in the relic-loving days of the eleventh century — shortly anterior to the Norman Conquest. Tormord, a priest of the country, having obtained from Marseilles some relics of Saint Victor, enshrined thera in a precious casket, and made them the grand attraction of a monastic foundation which speedily sprang into existence on the spot. The abbey expe- rienced many vicissitudes during its lengthened ex- istence, which was nominally sustained until the Revolution. During the eighteenth century its functions were discharged by one solitary monk. Among the forty-one abbots who ruled it through a period of seven centuries and a half, were several who distinguished themselves in letters and monastic discipline, particularly I'Abbe Fran9ois de Circassis and I'Abbe Terrisse. Circassis was a native of Cy- prus, and a member of one of the principal families of that island. At the capture of Nicosia he was taken prisoner by the Turks, and conveyed on board the vessel of Ali Pacha, the admiral of their fleet. At the battle of Lepanto he was recaptured by the Venetians, and of course immediately restored to liberty. Shel- tered afterwards by Cardinal Bourbon, he completed his academical studies, and became tutor to one of the princes of the blood. In 1599 he was rewarded with the abbacy of Saint Victor, which he held twenty years, a period entirely devoted to the interests of his monastery and the cultivation of sacred literature. The Abbe Terrisse, well known to antiquaries as a 216 AX ANTIQUARIAN PILGRIMAGE commentator on the ' Antonine Itinerary ^ and the ' Pentingcr Tables/ on his promotion to the oversight of Saint Victor in 1739, found the establishment in a greatly neglected condition, and its buildings fast hastening to decay. These abuses he reformed ; and in order to excite the inhabitants of the district to a greater zeal for religion he established an annual procession, which was sustained by the neighbouring priests and gentry, and by sixty stout labourers. On a certain day in July the procession wended its way from the church in gi-eat pomp. First marched the sen-ing brethren, wearing red hoods embroidered with the figure of the holy sacrament, and bearing the banners, flags, and standards of the society. Next followed the acolytes, the bearers of flowers strewing the path as they went, and the incense-bearers ba- lancing their censers. Then followed two gilt lan- terns preceding the soleil, or pyx, containing the host, which was suspended to a scarf worn round the neck by a priest. The canopy over the head of this per- sonage was supported by gentlemen wearing scarfs of precious stnfls. In this order the procession ad- vanced for the distance of about two leagues, and then returned in the same order to the abbey. This religious show seems to have been enacted for many years — with what results as to the advancement of religion in the neighbomliood we are not informed. We Protestants smile at such a mode of stirring-up the lukewarm to the fervour of piety, and moralists may perhaps puzzle themselves a little to account for such a procedure on the part of a man of the intellec- tual calibre of Temsse, who enjoys the reputation of being the founder of the Academy of Rouen, and whose erudition seems to have been almost unlimited in its copiousness and vai'iety. He died in 1785. IN NORMANDY. 247 There are at present few remains of the Abbey of St. Victor. On tlie outside of the chui'ch is a statue of William the Conqueror, ^\ith his crowni, sword, and sceptre. It appears to be a work of the four- teenth or fifteenth century, and is accompanied by this inscription : — " Villelmus conquestor, Anglorum rex, Norniannorum dux, Abbatiffi Sancti Victoris fundationein confirmavit Anno Salutis 1074," to which a poet of the place has added these pithy distichs : — " Anglia victorem, dominum quem Neustria sensit, Limina Victoris servat arnica sui. Sit procul bine inimica manus : vigil excubat heros ; Est Deus ipse intus : Credo, pavcsce, cole ! " - It is a tradition among the inhabitants of Saint Victor that the Conqueror caused to be erected upon their church-tower a beacon, which being lighted every night served as a guide to his army in their marches across the country. William is said to have entertained great veneration for St. Victor, who was accounted the patron of Christian warriors. The shrine which contains the relics of the ]\Iar- sellaise saint is still preserved here, though I did not obtain a sight of it. It is a little wooden chest, adorned with figm^es of the saint and of the twelve apostles. It is still resorted to as an object of popular devotion, and still, according to the belief of the peasantry, performs great miracles. One seems a little unprepared for such a statement as that which follows : — " On the 21st of July, 1841," Avritcs my friend, the Abbe Cochet, " I saw the church of St. Victor filled ■ Cocbet's Churches, i, 238. 248 AN ANTIQUARIAN PILGRIMAGE with pilgrims. There were the sick, the infirm, the wounded — people who rather dragged themselves along than walked. Fathers brought their children, and brothers their brothers upon their shoulders ! For here charity commences the solace of misery, and the parable of St. Christopher renews itself every day in the popular devotion. The afflicted first cast them- selves at the altar beneath the stole of the priest to recite portions of the gospels ; then rising, they went to prostrate themselves before the shrine of the holy Confessor, kissed the earth beneath his feet, and passed on their knees under the altar which supported his relics, as if perchance from that sacred dust some healing \drtue might descend upon them." ^ But om" pilgrimage was of a different order, and I must proceed. Accompanied by my friend P., I went into an Jwtelerie in the village for a slight refection. It was about mid-dav, and we found the common room of the inn fuU of people, seated at several tables, discussing some (to me) unintelligible viands. They were mostly en blouse, and appeared to be haymakers and other field-labourers who had come to take their noontide meal. Here we inquired for a voiture, and after some delay procured such a one as I never had the honour of being seated in before. It may be described as an oblong platform on two wheels, and surrounded with a kind of fence or balustrade of unpainted sticks. A board thrown across this sen ed as a seat for the three tourists, our coachman, a lad of fourteen (dressed much like an English butcher-boy), having a special seat for himself in front. The harness was of cordage and sheepskin, and oiu' horse had once been grey: his name, as the gar con informed us, was Jean Baptiste ! the queerest appellation in the 3 Les Eglises, i, 238. IN NORMANDY. 249 whole circle of horse-nomenclature. With Doctor Syntax for an outrider, we should have formed as pretty a sketch for a humorous pencil as could reasonably be desired. Thus equipped, we departed from a spot once favoured Avith the patronage of the Conquerer, in search of another which had been the birth-place of his puissant son-in-law, William de Warenne ! The country between St. Victor and Bellencombre is very agreeable, and a ride of a few miles (probably four or five) brought us, in the rear of St John the Baptist, to the desiderated spot. Bellencombre is a picturesque town-village or bourg of one broad street, consisting of irregular antique houses chiefly constructed of wood in the style known in England as " post and panel" building, and flanking the humble mairie of the district — for the bourg is the chef-lieu of a canton and therefore possesses some official consequence. It is seated on the western side of the little river Varenne. This river, which rises in, and gives name to, the neighbouring com- mvme of Omonville-sur- Varenne, is now more gene- rally known as the ri\iere d'Arques, because it passes the castle and town of Arques on its way to join the Bethune, which debouches a few miles north- Avard at the haven of Dieppe. The town itself originally bore the same name as the river, and from it the Dc Warennes assumed their surname. It was not until the graceful mound upon which the castle stands had been cast up, that the spot assumed another appellation and was called Bellencombre, which may be literally translated " Bellus Cumidus" — " the fair mound or pile."^ This then was the object of our * Arcbseological Journal, vol. iii, p. 6. 11 § 250 AN ANTIQUARIAN PILGRIMAGE pilgrimage, and we lost no time in directing our steps upwards towards its summit. But alas ! my anticipations of a castle were doomed to disappointment. A few massive walls of stone and brick, once a portion of the donjon or keep, constituted the whole of the existing remains of one of the chief fortresses of ancient Normandy. A few unintelligible fragments of rough masonry stood as the representative of that once redoubtable edifice, which, founded in the earliest days of feudalism, was one of the last strongholds which defended the rights of the last of the dukes of Normandy — our own John sans Terre — against the aggressions of Philip Augustus, the French monarch. Besides the fact of its having belonged to the powerful Anglo-Norman Earls of Warenne and Surrey, it had had other claims upon the notice of the English historical antiquary. In the fifteenth century the sounds of war again reechoed amongst its majestic towers. In 1418 it was taken by our array, and a memorial of its conquest by English swords is still retained in the name le camp Arundel, borne by a spot near at hand. In 1449, however, the leopard Anrjlais yielded again to the fleur-de-lis, and the standard of the French monarchy once more waved upon its time-honoured summit. After the disruption of Normandy from England, it of course passed away from the De Warennes, and its subsequent history is associated with the names of its distinguished castellans, de la Heuze, de Moy, and Fontaine-Martel. When it ceased to exist as a gar- rison is unknown, but from certain relics which I noticed on the spot it appears pretty certain that it was occupied as a private residence during the seven- teenth century. Long subsequently it bore ample traces of its former strength and importance, in the IN NORMANDY. 251 existence of two large and lofty towers flanking the grand entrance of the keep. From sketches taken in 1832, it would seem that these towers must have been about fifty feet in height, with machicolations. Above the principal archway there then remained the grooves by which the drawbridge had anciently been lifted. A picturesque growth of ivy which entwined these remains added considerably to their beauty, while the beech woods on the opposite side of the Varenne — a part of the great continuous forest of Arqucs — formed a lovely back-ground to the picture. See what re- mained of these stately towers at the time of our ^dsit ! It will naturally be asked, what caused the dis- appearance of such considerable architectural remains in the short interval between the year 1832 and the period referred to. — Listen ! In 1835 the ruins of this castle and the ''fair mound" upon which they stood were sold by the family Godard de Belbeuf to a small proprietor — one Dillard. 252 AN ANTIQUARIAN PILGRIMAGE Now this Dill arc! was ( or is — for I have not heard of his death) one of those execrable pieces of existence — humanity I will not say — who have no feeling beyond personal aggrandisement — no reverence for anvthino; venerable or ancient. Such a man I found the living territorial representative in Normandy of the mighty and high-souled De Warennes — the owner of the cradle of that chivalrous race ! He had not long paid down his purchase-money of ten thousand francs ere the deep silence which had settled upon these baronial walls was broken — not indeed, as of old, by the clashing of swords and the clangour of the trumpet, but by the echoes of the hammer and pickaxe of the destroyer. This car- case of the old Norman chivalry offered a tempting bait for the mercenary grub who had got it into his power. Old Dillard demolished what Old Time had left, bit by bit, stone by stone, and sold it by retail ! Tiles eight hundred vears old he turned into cement, while the mortar of walls which might have sur^dved as long as the neighbouring hills he counted as so much common sand. Donjon-keep and en- trance-towers fell beneath his cruel strokes, and the arches of the bridge crumbled into the ditch under his withering touch, With a chuckle of heart-felt satis- faction he told us that he had sold eighteen thousand feet of freestone procured from the demolition of the entrance-towers only ! The chapel within the donjon had shared the common fate. Walls built for the defence of man and for the service of God had been alike overturned : for everv stone brought its sou to the old man's coffer, and that was sufficient to outweigh with him every consideration of respect for antiquity and every sentiment of reverence for religion. IN NORMANDY. 253 While I was mentally ejaculating three times three groans against Le Pere Dillard for his sordid spoliation, my friend the Abbe was employed in phi- losophizing upon the loss which Normandy had sus- tained at his hands. His thoughts, as subsequently given to the world in his elegant work on the Churches of the Arrondissemeut of Dieppe, ran in this wise : " Few ruins once interested us more than those of Bellencombre. Those ramparts breached by time — those curtain walls covered with i\T — those fosses over- grown with brambles — those trenches continued down beyond the church — that old enceinte, which stretches itself into the town which it formerly enclosed — all these carried us backward to the middle ages, and made us for a moment believe ourselves transported to the reign of William or St. Louis, and to the. bosom of feudal France. W^hat a misfortune that this phy- siognomy of an old bourg ferme, like those on the banks of the Rhine, should have disappeared from our midst ! As it would be a curious spectacle amid the elegance and comfort of our modern ci\dlization to encounter a rude warrior, with his weapons, his warlike gait, his coat of mail, and his iron helmet — so one would be able to fi'ame a philosophical specu- lation upon those gloomy vaults, narrow loop-holes, deep dungeons, and long and silent subterraneous passages [which once existed here], as contrasted with our factories so bright and elegant, our workshops so brilliant and animated, our palaces of industry so lively, so spacious, so aerial, so transparent V'^ The church of Bellencombre stands within the enfossed enclosure of the ancient fortification. Its tower was, as M. Cochet remarks, at once an auxiliary and a rival to those of the castle donjon. * Eglises, ii, 396. AN ANTIQUARIAN PILGRIMAGE ''The banks of the Rliine constantly afford us an analogous spectacle. There, as at Bellencombre, the church-tower is a pyramid, pierced with semicircular openings, rising above the transepts, and commanding the neighbouring town in a fashion at once mysterious and austere. The church of Bellencombre has suf- fered much from its vicinity to the castle. The two transepts have been destroyed. The choir and the nave, which have escaped, are of sandstone, with piercings of the eleventh century. The construction is rough and rude, as though produced by the hands of armed men " during some short interval of peace. As it must have been erected dm-ing the period of De Warenne proprietorship, 1 made a sketch of it from the castle mound as a slight souvenir of my visit. The interior contains nothing beyond what is seen in the generality of Norman country churches, except an incised slab, covering, as the inscription IN NORMANDY. 255 informs us, the '' viscera and intestines of the noble and puissant Lord James de ^loy, hereditary castellan of Bellencombre/' Avho died in 1519. As pilgrims never leave the shrines they visit without some tangible token of their having duly performed their " mission," 1 was careful to inquire of old Dillard for something of the sort, and was most unexpectedly gratified by his producing a bronze object, which proved to be nothing more nor less than an heraldric ivyvern of about the thirteenth century. Now, recognizing in this misshapen work of medieval art the badge of the De Warennes, I was of course anxious to secure it, which I am happy to say I succeeded in doing, at the price of two francs. If possible, Le Perc Dillard was more gratified than myself with this little business transaction. He had never heard of the De Warennes. Before we left, the old man took us into his cottage, which is situated upon the apex of the " bellus cumulus," and showed us some medieval tiles, which he had taken from one of the corridors of the castle and laid down as a pavement for his kitchen. He also exhibited a slab of black marble, which he had found no great while before in his garden. It bore these lines : — " Mon . honneur . et . ma . vie . Sont . deux . lots . de . mon . bien . Quand . I'une . m'est . ravie . L'autre . no . m'est . plus . rien . " The old man little dreamed of my estimate of his honour as we bade him a no very hearty bon soir ! I learn from jNI. Cochet, that since this modern baron of Bellencombre's cupidity has been exposed in " Les Eglises," he refuses my friend access to the few 256 AN ANTIQUARIAN PILGRIMAGE. walls which survive to mark the ancient abode of the De Wareunes. This is of little consequence, since any visit to them only awakens emotions that are far from pleasm'able. It is at least some consolation that his infamy as a destroyer is put upon record in two languages ! MISCELLANEA. Brief €ssags anlr gHi\3tr^aria. 1 259 MISCELLANEA. X HE following story was told me by a clerical friend some years since. The narrator was chosen by his parishioners to represent them at the board of guardians in the " union " to which the parish was attached, — the other guardians, twelve in number, being farmers, whose educational attainments may be inferred from what follows. A document of some importance was to emanate from the board, and the chairman — a person little better qualified than his colleagues — was desired to draw it up, which he did accordingly. It was ad rem as it regarded the sense intended to be conveyed, but the grammar was of a sort that would have caused Lindley jNIurray a spasm. jNIy friend, in a kind and delicate way, pointed out the errors, and suggested their correc- tion; but one of the other guardians immediately rose, declared the paper to be perfectly grammatical, and begged the chairman to " put it to a show of hands" whether it was good English or not. This the latter immediately did, when it was decided by twelve farmers against one parson that the grammar was sound. Thus was the offence of maiming the Queen's English brought for the first time to trial by jun', the culprit himself presiding as judge ! This anecdote is no unapt illustration of the falsity of the proverb Vox populi vox Dei. No doubt the honest farmers imagined they had achieved a great victory over ray friend. Twelve men against one, must, they thought, of course be right, though 260 MISCELLANEA. that one was in fact the only person who understood the merits of the case. Thus it is in matters of much greater moment : the voice of multitudes is deemed the utterance of Truth. I take it, however, that the many are usually as much in the wrong now as they were in the days of old, when the cry of " Crucify him ! Crucify him ! " reverberated through the Hall of Judgment, and drowned the feeble voice of the Roman governor helplessly demanding "What is Truth?" I never heard whether the incidents embodied in the old-fashioned drama of the ' Maid and the Mag- pie' had a foundation in any real occurrence ; but the following anecdote, for the particulars of which many living persons can vouch, offers a curious analogous instance of a domestic having suffered disgrace in consequence of an undeserved imputation of dis- honesty. About the commencement of the present century, a maid-servant, in the employ of a tradesman's family at Lewes, who had previously borne an un- blemished character, was suspected of having stolen a favourite old silver spoon, the property of her mis- tress. It had been last seen in her hands, and there were strong circumstantial proofs of her having appro- priated it to her own use. She lost her situation in consequence ; and, in spite of her protestations of innocence, was turned abroad, characterless, upon the world. "What effect the unjust suspicion had upon her subsequent conduct is not knowa, but she died some time afterwards without an opportunity of vin- THE RAT AND TUE SPOOX. 261 dicating herself from the charge. Many years later the house in which she had served was partially pulled down, when the missing spoon was brought to light. Among the broken stones which had formed the foundation of the kitchen, a rat's hole was disco- vered. In this cranny were found the skinny remains of a rat still holding in its jaws an old-fashioned silver spoon, which was at once identified as the ob- ject so long ago lost and now almost forgotten. It is conjectured that some sweet or unctuous matter that it might have contained, had served as a bait for the .four-legged felon, and that the rat in di'agging the prize into his narrow lair had so completely cut oflF the means of egress that he paid the penalty of a lingering death by starvation for his dishonest deed. The shrivelled bodv of the thief now lies side bv side with the stolen property beneath a glass case in the possession of one of my neighbours. One of the best epistles I ever saw was that of Politian to liis Friend. There is not one redundant word, nor one that could be spared : " 1 was veiy sony, and am very glad, that thou hast been sick, and that thou art whole. Farewell.'^ One is sometimes astonished at the profound igno- rance of common things which is manifested by people whose social position and means of acquii'ing know- ledge would lead us to give them credit for a fair stock 262 MISCELLANEA. of information. It is not uncommon to meet in ordinary intercourse men who would accept in good faith a story of a war between William the Conqueror and Charlemagne, or the statement that King John signed Magna Charta in order to enable Henry the Eighth to marry Mary Queen of Scots. Poor Mr. , of W — shire, was a gentleman in at least some of the qualities which are essential to that title. He was of ancient family, Aery rich, hospitable, and of polished address, and had a fine taste in gardens, architecture^ and pictures, — but of his reading and information the following anecdote will convey the best idea. He was once acting the part of cicerone in his picture gallery to a numerous party of guests. On arriving in front of a large painting representing a man in old costume conversing with a lady, " That,'^ said he, " is a picture of the Pope and his Wife. You will observe that he is addressing her with great earnestness, and she is listening to him with affec- tionate interest." His friends might have passed the matter by with a well-concealed " titter " among the ladies, and an adroit tiuniing of the conversation on the part of the gentlemen, had not the old squire been bent upon displaying the full extent of his ignorance. Addressing one of the ladies, he said — " By-the-bye, Mrs. G , you have lately returned from Rome. Pray are you acquainted with the present pope ? " — " I have seen him at St. Peter's,'^ was lier reply, " but I cannot boast of a personal acquaintance with his holiness." " Is he," inquired the old gentleman, " a family man ? " Mrs. G. evading the spirit of the interrogatory replied, " that she really could not tell — some popes had been members of good families, but she had never heard whether the reigning pontiff MR. ELDERSHAW ON MATHEMATICS. 263 was of distinguished origin or not." " Madam/' pursued the questioner, " you misunderstand me. Is he a family man — that is to say, has he any offspring?" " Oh, no ! " responded Mrs. G. Avith as grave a face as she could command, "are you not aware that the Roman Catholic clergy are not allowed to marry ? " " No, indeed, madam," was the rejoinder, " I was not aware of the fact ! " ]\Iy friend, Mr. Simon Eldershaw, among some other strong dislikes, hated the science of mathematics. He did not go so far as to say, with a late distinguished head of an Oxford College, that it was " a \cy\ good science for carpenters." He even admitted its ines- timable value to a particular class of minds ; nor did he shut his eyes to its sublime results to mankind. But while he acknowledged the services it had rendered to astronomy, to navigation, and the various depart- ments of mechanics and engineering, he denied its alleged utility as directed merely to the expansion ol" the intellect, without any view to its practical appli- cation to those sciences. " What can be more absurd (he would say) than the making of it so prominent a feature in the education of a large portion of our clergy? The young student who has embraced Cambridge as his Alma Mater is made to imbibe so much of Avhat may be to him an unpalatable draught as will enable him to take his first degree, and he rarely perhaps cares to taste it again. This is worse than folly, for the time has been devoted to a useless pursuit when many other studies of the highest im- portance have had to be neglected. At length the 264 MISCELLANEA. young clergyman enters upon parochial duties ; but what are his qualifications for the highest of all trusts, the gravest of all responsibilities? He should be critically acquainted with that volume which is to be his text-book in the instruction of the humble folk among whom he has come to dwell ; but he can only read one fourth part of it in the original tongue ; for alas ! while he should have been studying Hebrew grammar, he has been poring over differential calculus. He is not a good theologian, for his opportunities of cultivating what is to be his main object in practical life have been few. He cannot say much upon the doc- trine of the Trinity, for his energies have been too much devoted to trigonometry. He makes but a poor hand at a sermon on eternity, though he could tell you some- thing considerable of the " infinite series.^^ He knows his way through Euclid, but he knows little of the path by which he is to lead his flock to heaven. His angles help him but little in rubbing off the angu- larities of prejudice, and his tangents have no point of junction with the unsophisticated circle of which he should be the centre. He is acquainted with the sines of geometr\", but dull at discerning the signs of the times. At length some humble inhabitant of the parish, a man of plain good sense and solid piety, who has made theology his leading study, and 'who can enter into the moral necessities of his neighbours — who, in short, is qualified in the very things that the yoimg priest is deficient of — opens a meeting-house in the Aollage street, and thus empties the parish church ; while he who deems himself the only autho- rized teacher looks helplessly on, and deplores, too late, the misspending of his time upon inappropriate objects.^^ And, me judice, my friend was to a great extent SELF-IMPORTANCE OF MATUEMATICIAXS. 265 right, although it is not so much to a mathematical education as to a grand and general defect of the existing university system that such a failure as that indicated by Mr. Eldershaw is attributable. There are, it is confessed, many branches of education that are never designed to be applied to practical life, Avhich are yet conceiA'cd to be very useful in the formation and culture of the mind ; as the scaffolding of a house is essential to its construction, though it is to be removed on the completion of the building. So also many learn the sword exercise without any intention of becoming soldiers. To such reasoning Mr. Eldershaw would reply, " Well, well ;, there may be something in that; but I am bold to say that the result is very inadequate to the labour bestowed. It is, as the sailors say, making ' three voyages for a biscuit,' — an Olympic struggle for a crown of parsley. ]Much is said of mathematics as to the effects produced upon the reasoning powers. Too much ! It is said by those who, having spent years in the pursuit, compensate themselves for their lost time by asserting a lofty superiority over other men — their betters in evervthiug else. I have known Cambridge men (my friend \\ ould continue) ' very middling scholars,' impudent enough to question the ability of men of real genius, sound classical scliolar- ship, and great literary taste, because forsooth tliey had never studied mathematics. ' Nothing like leather ' should be their motto ! There are of course many exceptions ; and a man may be truly great in mathematics as well as in philosophy, language, music, or any other science, and at the same time exercise due liberality towards other pursuits. In fact I never knew a great mathematician who was not also great in something else, — but, mark you ! l'> 266 MISCELLANEA. (Mr. Eldershaw -vrould add with great emphasis) not as a consequence, but merely as a concomitant.^^ "If I do not altogether object to mathematical science as a sharpener of the wits, I should still saj'^ that its moral tendency is rather bad. Did you ever know an exclusively mathematical man who had much heart? A cool, prudent, worldly-wise, calculating man, he is sure to be ; but as to poetry, taste, gene- rosity, soul, — a cipher would represent the exact quantity of each that he possesses. There ^s not a jolly feature about him. He wants you to establish everything you say by line and rule. He is like the Scotchman, who objected to ' Paradise Lost ^ because it " proved naething.^ He makes everything so clear to his own apprehension that he loses the power of making others understand it. He is a bore — dry, stale, and unprofitable (said my impetuous friend), and I don't like him at all ! " I recollect liaA^ng met with two rather curious in- stances of the tulit alter honores. In the thirteenth century Peter le Marshal held lands by the service of keeping a palfi'ey in the king's stable at the king's expense, — "per seijantiam custodiendi unum pale- fridum in stabulo domini regis, sumptibus ipsius domini regis," — a very pleasant way of keeping a horse ! In a church window in France there were formerly figiires of an ecclesiastic and a young noble, with an inscription, stating that the window was the gift of the tutor of a certain lord, for which however the said 2^^2)11 found the money! " Hanc fenestram fieri fecit M. V. tutor Domini N. N. expensis nihilo- rainus dicti Pupilli." UNEXPLAINED CAUSES. 267 There are many things in existence of which our philosophy does not dream, and many effects which seem to have a very obscure relation to their causes. Many notions once held to be superstitious are found to be real truths when that relation is by some chance discovered. Why does the natural philo- sopher deny the influence of the moon upon changes of weather, while he is compelled to acknowledge that the tides are governed by the phases of that luminary ? The unsophisticated shepherd or waggoner is as cer- tain of his weather creed as the astronomer is of the truth of his tidal doctrines, but he wants the mathe- matical proof which the other possesses. He relies alone upon his own observation and experience, and is satisfied with the fact without stri\dng after any theory. There are many other instances of relations between one thing and another which cannot be ac- counted for upon the principles of a due and intel- ligible sequence of cause and effect; and your philo- sopher would deem such apparent relations as mere whims of the imagination, desening no more credit than the ancient belief that the Goodwin Sands were caused by Tenterdcn steeple ; but the relation would seem to exist nevertheless. Why is it that we are often forewarned by some indescribable impression of the approach of a friend to our door, when we had no reason whatever for anticipating his arrival ? Why do our dreams so often exactly foreshadow coming occurrences ? Why again should the want of an ear for music be so frequently associated, as it is known to be, with an incapacity to spell correctly ? It cannot result from a mere want of delicacy in the organs of hearing, since the orthography of all lan- guages differs more or less widely from phonetic forms. Once more, why should the child who receives 2G8 MISCELLANEA. the baptismal appellation of one of its parents more strongly resemble tliat parent^ in personal and moral characteristicSj than his or her brothers and sisters do ? I have never heard this phenomenon mentioned by others ; but I have established the fact to my own satisfaction by long observation, and the exceptions to the rule are marvellously few. It has been much the fashion for some years past — more especially since the appearance of Sharon Turner's work — to ascribe all the excellences of the English character to an Anglo-Saxofi source, but I have presumption enough to question the justice of this ascription. The Anglo-Saxons, it is true, be- queathed to us a noble language and an excellent code of laws, both of which however were originally shared by other nations of Teutonic blood, who have not greatly distinguished themselves in the annals of the world. It Avould be much more just to attribute the peculiar energy, enterprise, and power which seem to distinguish us from other nations, to the great mixture of races that has taken place in our island. The sturdiness of the Celt— the civilizing influence of the Eoman— the sound civil polity of the Saxon — the maritime enterprise of the Dane — the military ardour and strength of character of the Norman, have all doubtless contributed their quota to the formation of the modern Englishman. Let us therefore thank the good Providence which thus successively, in the lapse of ages, recruited om- strength by the infusion of foreign blood; and let us strive to ascertain, and imitate, and uphold, whatever was good and excellent CORRUPTIONS OF LOCAL NAMES. 269 in every people whose blood circulates in our veins, and avoid the peculiar vices of each. It is a popular fallacy of the age to attribute every- thing old-fashioned and well-established to the Saxons. Thus, wc sometimes hear such things as parliament and trial by jury described by pul)lic speakers as "good old Saxon institutions/' though neither the one nor the other existed at all in its present form until after the incoming of the Normans. Some people also seem to think every plain old word in our language, Saxon. A certain M.P., not long since, told an audi- ence that he preferred the word " schoolmaster " to "preceptor," on account of its being "good Saxon- English." Poor man ! He little knew the etymology of the word he was advocating — that it was a com- pound of the two old French nouns, escole and mestre, while these are again derivatives of the Latin " schola" and "magister." It may seem a somewhat startling assertion, but it is nevertheless true, of at least the south-eastern parts of England, that a majority of the names of places are so mispronounced by the pcasantiy as to render it a matter of difficulty for a stranger to identify the place with the rustic appellation. For instance, in Surrey, Bletchingly is called Birchen-lie — Dorking, Darkin — Reigate, Raggot — Newdigate, Nudgit — Home, Hoordun — and Carshalton, Case-horton. People are now beginning to forget that the great fashionable " Brighton " is only an alias for " Brighthclmstone," the ancient name of the town. By the bye, there is an erroneous notion entertained by some guide- writers and others, that this crasis was adopted at the instance 270 MISCELLANEA. of the Prince Kegent (George the Fourth) — Bright- hclmstone being a word too long for his utterance ! The prince's aversion to "^hard words" may have given rise to the misapprehension. When a youth he is said to have incurred the ire of one of his tutors by saying he should be obleeged io him for the explanation of some difficulty. " Can't you/' sharply demanded the irascible old pedant, "open your royal jaws wide enough to say oblige ? " The truth is that the curt pronunciation "Brighton" was in use long before George the Fourth was born : I have seen it so writ- ten in a document of the time of James the Second. Sussex abounds with these corruptions in names. Selmeston is called Simpson — Folkington, Fowington — Alciston, Ahson — and Alfriston, Ahson-town. Ro- therfield is Bedderful— Mayfield, Mayavul— Lindfield, Linvul— Cuckfield, Cookful— Heathfield, Hefful— Henfield, Envul— Hartfield, Hartful,— and Wivels- field, Wilsful. Again, Wanningore is Warnmoore — Falmer, Farmer — Herstmonceux, Horsemowncez — Burwash, Burrish — Ticehurst, Tysus — Wadhurst, AVaddus — Crowborough, Crowbor — Chalvington, Chanton— Frant, Fant— Hayward's Heath, Rewards Hawth — Werpesbm-n, Wapses-Boorn — Pevensey, Pemsey— St. Olave's WeU, Tidley's Wells. The numerous terminations in -ing in West Sussex are all changed by the peasantry into un. Thus, instead of Worthing, Goring, Tarring, Didling, they say Wor- thun, Gorun, Tarrun, and Didlun. Further, Fi-am- field is Frantful— Uckfield, Uckful— Hellingly, Her- rin-lie— Hailsham, Helsome— Dallington, Dollinton — Ashburnham, Ashbrum— Stanmer, Stammer— Roeheath, Rowho-ad — Midhurst, Meddus— Pet- worth, Pettuth — Avisford, Hare's-Foot— and Chi- chester, Chiddister. RUSTIC WIT. 271 I have often been struck with the true wit that one meets with among the uneducated classes. People who cannot read seem to possess as keen an apprehension of unexpected analogies or contrasts as those who have had the best means of brightening their perceptive faculties by education. I once heard a remark made by a railway excavator upon the personal appearance of a gentleman who possessed an unfortunately light red or sandy complexion^ and who was on this occasion attired in a light summer costume^ consisting of a salmon-coloured cap and slippers, with a paletot and trowsers of kindred hues. " Bill/' said he, " do you see that chap over yonder ? You could reckon him up all at once .'" Riding one day through one of the wretchedly crooked roads of the weald of Sm'rey, I remarked to the driver of my vehicle, that the man who originally made it could not have had a very good eye for straight lines. "Why, no, Sir," replied the man, " it seems to me that he thought as how 07ie good turn desarved another J' Finding him a wag, I alluded to the old proverb that the miles of that part of the country were veiy " long and narrow." " Very true, Sir," was his prompt reply, at the very instant that our vehicle sank up to the axletrees in the mud, — " and not only that, but they goes a good ways under ground ■'" The natural enmity subsisting between the wolf and the sheep, so often aUuded to by scriptural, classical, and oriental writers, has given rise to a curious vulgar error, which seems to prevail in all quarters of the world. Sir John Feme tells us, after Cornelius Agrippa, that " Nature hath im- 272 MISCELLANEA. planted so inveterate an hatred atweene the wolfe and the sheepe, that being dead, yet, in the secret opera- tion of Nature, appeareth there a sufficient trial of their discording natures, so that the enmity betweene them seemeth not to dye with their bodies : for if there be put upon a harpe, or any such like instru- ment, strings made of the intralles of a wolfe, be the musitian never so cunning in his skil, yet can he not reconcile them to an unity and concord of sounds : so discording alwayes is that string of the wolfe. '^ A rather curious parallel to this strange fancy is found in the East at the present day. A friend recently returned from India informs me that a year or two ago, his brother, a young gentleman in the Ninth Lancers, having shot a wolf, took off its skin and stretched it upon the door of an outhouse to dry. One night, shortly afterwards, the skin disappeared, and, on inquiry, it was discovered that a Hindoo had stolen it for the purpose of converting it into the head of a tom-tom, or native drum. The generality of those instruments are covered, as is usual with us, with sheepskin parchment, and the rascal was firmly persuaded, that the sound of his drum thus prepared would have the effect of breaking the heads of all the tom-toms in the neighbourhood ! ^ Among social bores (to use a slang phrase) there are two that I especially dislike. The one lifts his hands and turns up his eyes at the narration of every commonplace matter ; the other is never surprised at even the most extraordinary event. During a remark- ' Tliis anecdote was communicated by me to a periodical publica- tion about twelve months since. LIFE PRESERVED BY A DREAM. 273 able annular eclipse that happened some years ago, while everybody else was fully occupied in gazing at the unusual phsenomenon, a pert young lady's- maid, just arrived from London, expressed her dis- gust for such vulgar curiosity by remarking in the genteelest accents — " Deah me ; how singulah that country people should take so much notice of an eclipse — why we frequeyitly have them in totvn ! " Some people do not believe in dreams : many do. A septuagenarian friend of mine was once the means of saving the hfe of a fellow-creatm-e under very extraordinary cii'cumstances. She dreamed more than once in one night that a girl was lying in a state of great illness and exhaustion in a certain remote wood. She told her husband her dream, and he, not being skilled like Joseph or Daniel in the gift of interpretation, advised her, after the manner of Eli to Samuel, to go to sleep again. In the morning, the impression of the night's uneasiness was so strong that she could not be dissuaded from her purpose of sending a servant to the indicated spot. There the person seen in the miquiet invasion of her slumbers was found, in a wretched state of squalor and destitu- tion. The girl was brought home and deposited in an outhouse in the last stage of exhaustion. By kind and careful treatment, however, she was eventually re- stored to convalescence, when she told her benefac- tress, that she had for more than a fortnight previously to her discovery in the wood subsisted entirely upon blackberries. As the poor creature gradually im- proved in physical health, it was discovered that her reason was disordered, and she at last relapsed into insanity. A clue to her place of abode was however 12 § 27i MISCELLANEA. obtained, and she was sent back to the workhouse, some five-and-twenty miles distant, from which she had so hazardously wandered. A rather singular incident, showing the remark- able attachment which sometimes exists between the inferior animals and man, as well as the mysterious sympathy which may occasionally be noticed between beings gifted with reason and those whose highest endowment is instinct, occurred in the last days of the husband of the person mentioned in the last anecdote. He suffered from that " slow living death," consumption, — and, when he became too umvell to leave his chamber, his favourite mare, which was depastured in a meadow near his house, neglectful of her own well-being, would stand for horns, with her head over the garden-gate, as if in expectation of the coming of her master, to resume his old accustomed rides over the farm. The sight being pamful to the patient, the poor animal was removed to a distant field. Not long after this he grew worse, and became subject to delirium. During one of his fits he ap- peared to be much distressed, repeatedly pointing to some piece of wearing apparel which accidentally hung near his bed, and ejaculating, " See, my poor mare is hung up ! " No importance was attached to such a remark, made under so unhappy a deprivation of reason ; but in order to soothe the sufferer the article was removed, when he observed, " It is all right now," and became more calm. Strangely enough, at the very moment of this occurrence, a labourer on the farm, passing through the field where the mare had been placed, found her fixed between the rails of a CORRUPTION OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. 275 little foot-bridge — which she had been attempting to cross in order to make her way towards the house — in such a manner that she must have died had she not been speedily extricated ! The master died a day or two subsequently, while the poor steed gradually pined away, and in a very brief space of time she also bade adieu to the light. The rationale of all this I leave to the psychologists : I merely record the facts as I have received them fi'om living and unimpeachable witnesses. The desirableness of a Dictionary of the English language which should serve as a standard of what really are, and what are not, legitimate words has long been acknowledged. "What a pity that some means had not long ago been used for the determina- tion of this point ! Is it not a matter of importance, almost involving our patriotism, that we should come to a speedy determination as to what is English, and what is only mere " slang ? " In writing, it is so much easier to adopt current expressions, right or wrong, than to study orthodox and authorized standards, that there appears to be little hope that oiu' popular authors will ever reform the evil com- plained of. That an " Academy" for such a pm-pose would be inefficient is proved by the case of France, where new words are almost daily introduced. But surely it is the imperative duty of every one who hopes that his writings may descend to posterity to attempt some limit. As optimists in Latin style reject every word that is not Ciceronian, surely Eng- lish M'ritcrs miglit easily make a " magnus Apollo" of some standard author, Avhose works are sulhciently copious to embrace all necessary expressions. Should 276 MISCELLANEA. it be replied to tliis suggestion, that it involv^es a servility incompatible with a bold and vigorous dic- tion, and that the very task of mastering the copia verhorum of a prolific writer would be the labour of a life, I would say — Then let some patriotic admirer of " English undefiled " midertake the labour of ex- purgating our existing dictionaries of all words not occurring in the best writers with sufficient frequency to establish their title as genuine constituents of our ancient and copious tongue. The mere use of a word once or twice by Shakspeare, Milton, Johnson, or any other eminent writer, ought not to entitle it to retention, unless it can be shown to exist in contem- porary and subsequent authors also. The man who should judiciously perform this task would deserve a noble monument — and his Dictionary would be that monument. It will probably be further urged, that as English is a living language, it must and will grow. But is it not worth while to remember that languages, like trees, arrive sooner or later at maturity, then remain for awhile unimpaired, afterwards manifest symptoms of gradual decay, until lastly their stock dies in the gromid? My fear is, that we have got past the first stages — those of healthy growth and maturity, and that without careful trimming and prmiing, our tree will soon hasten onwards to utter decay. The multi- tudinous new sprigs and leaves daily budding forth among its stui'dy branches will, on examination^ prove to be not so much the true products of its own vital energy, as parasites which are drawing their nourish- ment from it and hastening its destruction. One thing is certain : if some of the men who of old delighted in and advanced its growth, could look up from their bed of dust, they would be both astonished IMPORTATION OF UNNECESSARY WORDS. 277 and indignant at the large increase of ivy, moss, and lichen, in the shape of classical and continental words and idioms which now cluster around it, to say nothing of the filthy funyi known as " slang,'' which coiTupt and defile its every branch. There appear to me to be three distinct causes of corruption now in active operation upon our language. The first and least objectionable of these, is the con- stant formation of new and unnecessary derivatives, adverbs from adjectives, verbs from nouns, and such like, which tends greatly to the weakening of the vigour of the old mother tongue. Secondly, the pedantic introduction of foreign words by scholars, men of science, and others. This is an old fault — at least as old as the first half of the seventeenth cen- tury, as a slight glance at many of the ^vriters of that period will sufficiently prove. What we call Johnsonianisra is much older than Johnson's days. It was both practised and decried (and no wonder) in the time of James the First. Old Verstegan loudly complains of it in his ' Restitution of Decayed In- telligence.' Thus he tells us of some one who expressed himself in terms like these: — "As I itine- rated, I obviated a rural person, and interrogating him concerning the transitation of the time and the demonstration of the passage, found him a mere simplician ! " — whereas, adds our honest antiquary, had he only asked Avhat's o'clock, and which is the way, he might of the said " simplician " have been in both matters well informed. But without any intentional pedantry, avc very often find the technical terms of science and art brought first into ordinary language, by brilliant ^Titers in Reviews, &:c., and apologized for by Italics, but afterwards retained in all good faith and Roman simplicity by thcii* imitators. 278 MISCELLANEA. What a mass of terms from astronomy, geology, che- mistry, painting, and the like, have thus become what old ladies call " Dictionary words," within the last twenty years, to the great inconvenience of ordinary readers. The tliii'd source of corruption is the fright- ful increase of " slang " or " cant " expressions of various kinds which are constantly being added to om' colloquial language, and which slip one after another, to its great disfigurement, into the written tongue. The universities, to which we ought to look for a better example, are inexcusable for the use of many such words as " freshmen," " gyps," " to pluck," " little goes," " spoons," " rustication," and a host of other vulgar conventionalisms. Law, phy- sic, art, and even divinity too, as well as the illiterate mob, have each their by-words, that are becoming- candidates for admission into our dictionaries, and that will, doubtless, at last achieve that undeserved position. These loose observations are the result of a train of thought suggested by a word, which, having sprung up (I thmk) within the last ten years, is now found in nearly every Review and Newspaper — I mean the word " reliable." lleliable evidence, reliable informa- tion, and similar phrases, abound everywhere ; but the absurdity of the expression, by whomsoever invented — to say nothing of our having already the nervous old word " trustworthy," and its synonym " credible " — is a sufficient reason for its immediate rejection. To rely is a verb neuter, and cannot precede an accusative without the intervention of the preposition " on," or "upon" to make it equivalent to "trust" this preposi- tion is indispensable, and therefore if the new word be anything at all, it is not " reliable," but relionable ! DERIVATION OF " KEEP. 279 Why is the strongest part of a castle called a Keep? This question has often suggested itself to my mind when viewing old baronial fortresses. The common notion seems to be that the name originated in the fact that prisoners were kept there. The French equivalent is Donjon, whence may come our word " dungeon/^ and this may have suggested the etymology. I do not doubt that the baron who had a prisoner of mark would place him witliin the strongest walls which his feudal abode could supply. But for obvious reasons he would locate himself and his family there also. Now in our eastern^ and several other provincial, dia- lects, the more usual sitting-room of a family is still called the " keeping-room.'^ I think, therefore, the keep or principal part of a castle was so called because its lord and his domestic circle kejit, abode, or lived there. Shakspeare uses the word ''keep" in the sense of to dwell or reside : — " And sometime where earth-delving conies keep." Venus and Adonis. And again : — " And held in idle price to haunt assemblies Where youth, and cost, and witless bravery kee2)S." Measure for Measure, i, 4. Among the eccentric characters of the Weald of Sussex, in the latter half of the last century, was a worthy but very ignorant man, who, influenced by the religious zeal consequent upon the exertions of Whitefield and Wesley, undertook the office of a teacher, and became quite popular amongst his rustic neighbours in that capacity. Several of Master S 's quaint remarks have become current tra- 280 MISCELLANEA. ditions. One of these is, that — " The apostle Paul, though a very good man, was a shockinr/ bad gram- marian. Why he calls himself ' less than the least ;' and how could that be, my friends ? It ^s very bad grammar indeed V One day Master S. explained the passage of scrip- ture, " Darkness shall cover the earth, and gross darkness the people," in the following way : " The airth, you know, my friends, is natterally black and dark, but our hearts be a vast deal darker still — a gross darkness kivvers them, A gross — why that's twelve dozen you'll say. Very true, my friends, so it is ; and the heart o' man is twelve dozen times darker than the airth itself ! " Our language appears to me to suffer almost as much from the introduction of new and " refined " pronunciations as from the importation of new words. Great changes in this respect have taken place within the last half century. Our grandfathers did not pro- nounce p-u-t as poot, but as put, which would now be accounted as shocking vulgarity ; neither did they call beans and peas, beens and pees, but something much more approaching the Irish — banes and pays. I have frequently noticed that the late Mr. Davies Gilbert, who was remarkable for an adherence to old modes, pronounced the word k-e-y, not as kee, but as ke. The true orthoepy of the English language must be sought rather among ploughmen and grooms than in drawing-rooms and fashionable pulpits. Sometimes, even in words derived from the classical languages, the vulgar put the accent upon the right syllable, while the usage of educated society sanctions a mispronunciation. Now this must result from MODERN ARCU.EOLOGY. 281 modem corruption. An example Trill best illustrate my meaning. The Londoner talks of going to the theatre, or to St. Sepulchre's Church, and in both cases he is right ; for in the Latin from which they are deriA^ed the accent is placed upon the penidtimate syllable — theutrum and sepulchrum. The rapidly-increasing popularity of the study of antiquities suggests considerations not undeserving of the attention of the thoughtful, '^Aspice'^ and " Prospice " have always more or less engrossed the minds of men busied with what concerns present and prospective self-interests. They have been their watch- words, and have become the topics of innumerable prudent wise saws and proverbs. But " Respice " is almost a new word in the world's vocabulary. His- tory has indeed always engaged the interest of some, but the views of the past have generally been much distorted by tlie prejudices of party, or obscured for want of such light as the careful and accurate study of antiquities is alone calculated to throw upon it. We read Assyrian history with new eyes since the spade and pickaxe of Layard have been at work ; and Ave know more of the primeval races of Europe from the explorations of modern barrow-diggers than from all written records Avhatsoever. A few years ago — less than twenty, certainly — the word antiquary was deemed by general society as the synonym of something very eccentric, craljbed, and " queer." The greatest genius of his time, Sir Walter Scott, though full of love for old times and manners, could only depict one of his favourite characters who indidgcd this taste in such a wav as to throw indirect 282 MISCELLANEA. censure and ridicule upon it. But what a change has since come over us ! Owing chiefly to the zeal and practical intelligence of three or four living men, whose efforts have never been sufficiently acknow- ledged, archaeology has been raised to the true dig- nity of a science. A few kindred minds in various parts of the kingdom emulated the example set in the metropolis, and now counties, which formerly owned but two or three men versed in the pursuit, boast of Archaeological Societies which reckon their numbers by hundreds, are sanctioned by mitred and coroneted brows, and occupy a place amongst the most popular institutions of the day. There is doubtless much of the caprice of fashion in this — a zeal that will wax cold ; but nevertheless, the results to our literature, and to the feelings of society, will remain, and prove eminently beneficial. In the middle ages, and even down to a much later period, every considerable eminence near our coasts was surmounted by a large pile of brushwood, which was attended by a light-armed horseman, called a Hobiler, who, in case of any sudden incm'sion of the enemy, set it on fire for the purpose of alarming the surrounding country. Sometimes a mischievous per- son would contrive to ignite one of these beacons, and thus arouse the inhabitants of a whole district to the apprehension of an imminent danger. Several royal proclamations were issued for the suppression of this reprehensible species of practical joking. The follow- ing is a metrical version of a story told to the dis- ad\antage of a certain southern town, whose chief officers had formerly the character of being rather illiterate and foolish : FRYING BACON A CRIME ! 283 Our Mayor once received a proclamation From the Queen's majesty/ which threatened those, Throughout the length of this her English nation, Who should her subjects' feelings discompose, 'Rj firing beacons, and exciting fear (In vain) that some invading foe was di'awing near. His worship having spelt the document, Stalk'd most majestically down the street, When lo, a hissing, and a grateful scent At once his tympanum and nostril meet From out a cottage door : he straightway cross'd The threshold. " Nay,'^ says he, " I'm not mistaken : 'Tis so indeed ! This wretched sinner, In order to provide her worthless husband's dinner^ Doth boldly break the law — hj frying bacon /" A court forthwith was call'd, the case unfolded, And the vile criminal at length assoiled, On the condition — she being first well scolded — That henceforth all her pig-meat should be boiled ! The gigantic effigj' on Wilmington Hill, referred to at page 178, is locally known as the " Long Man." It is a rude outline of the human figure, 240 feet long, holding in each hand a staff of the same length. It appears that the outline was originally incised through the turf, leaving the chalk bare, but as it has not been kept scoured, like the famous White Hoi-se in Berkshire, the depression has become so slight as to be invisible upon the spot ; and it is only when the light falls upon it, at a particular angle, that it can be seen from a distance. At Cerne Abbas, in Dorsetshire, - Queen Elizabeth. 284 MISCELLANEA. there is a similar figure, 180 feet long. This, Mr. Sydenham, in his ' Baal Durotriges,^ considers to be an early British monument. Both these figures occupy a slope on a chalky down, and both lie imme- diately opposite to a religious house. I am inclined to consider them rather the works of medieval monks than of our Celtic ancestors, though it is difficult to guess at the motive which could have prompted them to the execution of such quaint portraitures. See a notice of this relic of other times, by the Rev. G. IM. Cooper, in the ' Sussex Archaeological Collections,' vol. iv, p. 63. THE WILMINGTOX GIANT. LONDOK : E. TUCKKR. fttlXTtlt. PKKKY S PI,AC£. OXIOKD STREET. .Li THE LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA Santa Barbara Goleta, California THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW. VATT.AT^T.F FOR DULATION .' TTrR [SPLAY OD J/l/VgO '51 ,-8,'60(B2594s4)476 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY ^ACIUTY AA 000 263 666 o