Part 16
From Worth Church to Swanage there is a track or path known still as Priestway, originally used by the priests of Worth passing backwards and forwards between Swanage and Worth churches, the latter of which is said to have been the mother-church. Sir Charles Robinson says that Worth is the Saxon word for village, and that the second half of the name was added because it was owned by Sir John Matravers, who had charge of Edward II. during his imprisonment at Corfe Castle.
From the elevated road along the cliffs may be seen a series of terraces, known locally as Lynchets, cut out on the slopes of the hills facing the sea; as to the use and origin of these escarpments there have been many theories and much discussion. That they are artificial and not natural there can be little doubt, and the labour expended in their formation must have been enormous. From their position, facing south-east, south, and south-west, one may fairly assume that their object was for agricultural purposes. They are to be found in several other parts of Dorset, as well as in other counties.
Dr. Colley March[54] says the word lynchet is derived from the Anglo-Saxon _hlinc_, meaning a ridge of land. He tells us that in the reign of Henry VIII. an Act was passed compelling all farmers with sixty acres of pasture or arable land to cultivate one rood, where the soil was suitable, for growing flax or hemp for cordage for the needs of the navy, and concludes as follows:—
In fine the law that compelled farmers to cultivate flax, the permission to do so in any place they were able to secure, the importance of suitable soil, and the necessity of prompt and efficient drainage, that could but be obtained on a sloping surface will account for a good many of the numerous lynchets of Dorset.
Fully to appreciate the rugged features of the cliffs between St. Ealdhelm’s and Durlston Head, they should be viewed from the sea, for the indentations and caverns of this iron-bound coast are indeed wonderful. All along the sea-board quarrying was carried on for centuries, and some of the caves are due to the hand of man. Many of these caverns fulfilled a double duty, providing blocks of stone by day and sheltering cargoes of smuggled goods by night. This part of the coast enjoyed quite a notoriety for its contraband trading during the early part of the last century, and the stories told of the daring Purbeck smugglers would fill a volume.
Mr. William Hardy, of Swanage, has published an interesting little book called _Smuggling Days in Purbeck_, in which he tells of many curious hiding-places for the illicit goods; one he mentions, which long remained undiscovered, was under the roof of Langton Church, a most unlikely place to attract suspicion. It became necessary at one time to double the number of revenue men, or coastguards; and it must have been a strange sight to see these men setting out for the night’s vigil carrying a one-legged stool, so that in the event of their falling asleep they might topple over and wake up. Smuggling became such a profitable business that most of the inhabitants of the district were more or less engaged in it.
Although less exciting, and perhaps less profitable, the quarrying industry was extensively carried on—as, indeed, it had been from very early times. A walk over the hills from Swanage to Worth discloses vast numbers of disused quarry shafts, and a few others still being worked. These hills are literally honey-combed with old workings, which occasionally fall in, leaving curious depressions on the surface. The stone lies in thin beds of varying quality, some of the upper ones being full of fossil remains. The higher stratum of Purbeck marble has been extensively quarried, and in bygone ages provided the elegant shafts which adorn the columns of many of our great monastic churches. The outcrop of marble may be seen in the reef of rocks which extends beyond Durlston Bay and forms Peveril Point.
Whilst on the subject of quarries, it is most interesting to note the conditions said to have been granted to Purbeck by an ancient charter. No man is allowed to open or work at a quarry who is not the son of parents who were themselves both children of marblers, as they were called, and this rule was rigidly enforced. Once a year, on Shrove Tuesday, all the marblers of the district repaired to Corfe Castle to register their names in the books of the Company of Marblers, and to pay an annual tribute of a pound of pepper and a football to the lord of the manor of Ower, as acknowledgment of a certain ancient right-of-way to that place for the purpose of shipping stone, this being necessary before there were any facilities at Swanage for so doing. A good description of this ancient custom is given in Sir Charles Robinson’s _Picturesque Rambles in the Isle of Purbeck_.
Looking down from the lofty hills upon the little town, a man who had been absent for twenty or thirty years would hardly recognise in the Swanage of to-day the village that he had left. Swanage, with its up-to-date pier, its esplanade and sea-wall, its red-brick villas, and the various requirements of the modern residents, resembles the isolated little town of fifty years ago as little as the garden of a London square resembles a primeval forest. The quaint old stone houses, with porches supported by pillars, projecting over the foot-way, and roofed with massive slabs of split stone, the narrow and winding streets, have nearly all disappeared, but fortunately there are still some few left to delight the eye of the artist.
The twelfth century tower of the parish church, built originally as a refuge, and as a means of defence from sea pirates, was standing long before the rest of the church was built. The Town Hall, although erected in recent times, is of some historic interest, the front having been partly built of stones taken from the old Mercers’ Hall in London, pulled down for street alterations; and this edifice itself is said to have been mainly composed of material taken from one of Wren’s early churches, destroyed in the great fire of London in 1666. So, after many vicissitudes, these weather-worn stones have found a resting-place very near to the source from whence they were originally taken.
Immediately at the rear of the Town Hall is a curious little structure of solid masonry, with an iron-studded oak door, resembling a powder magazine. This formerly stood close to the south door of the parish church within the graveyard, and was used as a lock-up. Over the door is the following inscription:—“Erected for the prevention of vice and immorality, by the friends of religion and good order. A.D. 1803.” A small hole may be observed in the oak door, and it is said that through this aperture the boon companions of the incarcerated man were in the habit of inserting the stem of a long clay pipe, which they used as a means of supplying him with strong drink, and the bowl of which they also at times filled with tobacco, in order that he might find some solace for his weary hours in smoking.
About a mile and a half from Swanage, in the direction of Corfe Castle, is the manor of Godlingstone, with its interesting old house. This estate is said to have been part of the hide of land given by William I. to Durandus the Carpenter, in exchange for certain repairs to be executed at Corfe Castle. The round tower at the western extremity of the house is believed to be of Saxon origin, and was probably built as a place of refuge from the ruthless Danes, who so frequently harried this part of the coast. Sir Charles Robinson mentions Godlingstone as having belonged successively to the families of Talbot, Rempston, Chaunterell, Carent, Pole, Wells, and Frampton.
The manor-house at Whitecliff on the slope of Ballard Down is another fine old building, and is sometimes credited with having been one of King John’s hunting lodges; but no trace of so early a building now remains, unless it be the massive garden walls, with the protecting tower.
Forming one of the horns of Swanage Bay is Peveril Point, with its coastguard signalling station, from which extends, in a south-easterly direction for a considerable distance, a ledge of rocks composed of Purbeck marble. These rocks follow the general dip of the formation observable for some distance along the coast—viz., from the south, sloping down towards the north; but at the extremity of Peveril Point one observes that the strata to the north of the ledge slope in exactly the opposite direction.
The beautiful and deeply indented bay of Swanage forms a harbour with good anchorage, sheltered from all but easterly gales. The northern arm of the bay, known as Ballard Head, is formed of lofty chalk cliffs, rising nearly sheer from the sea. The convulsions of nature have played some curious pranks in this locality, for side by side with the natural horizontal stratification one may see the layers of chalk and flints standing vertically. This has enabled geologists to estimate the probable thickness of these chalk beds, which, according to some authorities, was nearly a thousand feet. The human mind is staggered by the contemplation of the ages necessary to accumulate this stupendous deposit of microscopic foraminifera, of which the chalk is composed, before it was upheaved from the bed of the sea. The upper greensand, which is exposed at the western boundary of the chalk, contains many interesting fossils. The cliffs of Ballard Head terminate at Handfast Point with several chalk pinnacles and curiously formed caverns. Of the former, “Old Harry and his Wife” are well known, but, unfortunately, the upper half of “Old Harry’s Wife” was washed away some years ago, leaving little more than the base remaining.
The old-world village of Studland, at the foot of the northern slope of Ballard Down, still retains much of its primitive and picturesque beauty, and the old manor-house and the little Norman church dedicated to St. Nicholas are of great interest. This church, like many others, no doubt took the place of an earlier building, for there are still traces of Saxon work to be seen in the north wall.
A mile or so to the north-west of Studland, across the swampy heathland, we come to a conical hill some eighty or ninety feet high, surmounted by an irregularly shaped mass of sandstone, formed from the neighbouring Bagshot beds, which, having been cemented together by some ferruginous substance, has withstood the disintegrating action of the elements better than its surroundings. It is known as the Agglestone Rock. Sir Charles Robinson, in his _Rambles in the Isle of Purbeck_, estimates the weight of this rock at four hundred tons, and gives the probable derivation of the name from the Anglo-Saxon “hagge” (witch or hag), or “heilig,” meaning holy, and “stan” (stone).
This barren heathland, spreading over the Bagshot sands, extends for many a mile, and stretches out to the deeply indented coast-line of Poole Harbour, forming the northern limit of the Isle of Purbeck. The wild beauty of this low-lying district can only be enjoyed by those who are prepared to explore it on foot, for carriage-roads there are none, and the cart-tracks are not always passable.
The important deposit of china-clay found in this neighbourhood, which is exported in considerable quantities to many parts of the kingdom, and even to foreign countries, is chiefly shipped from the little quay at Ower, which is on an arm of Poole Harbour. Hutchins says that Ower was once the chief port in the Isle of Purbeck for the export of stone and marble, and for the importation of timber from the New Forest; but in 1710 Swanage seems to have superseded it.
The little village of Arne, near to which is Russell Quay, where clay and peat are shipped by small trading vessels, is merely a cluster of a few cottages and a plain-looking thirteenth century church, which, however, contains an object of interest in its stone altar with the five consecration crosses.
In the woods near Arne is one of the few heronries to be met with on the south coast; and in the solitude of this remote spot the birds have bred undisturbed probably for centuries.
From Arne to Wareham, a distance of some four miles, there is a rough road, by following which we complete our circuit of this interesting district—the Isle of Purbeck.
CORFE CASTLE
BY ALBERT BANKES
There is reason to believe that a castle existed at Corfe in the reign of King Alfred, but in his time this structure, which afterwards became so large as to vie with the noblest royal habitations in the kingdom, consisted probably of only a single strong tower on the summit of the hill constituting one of the defences of Wareham, which in Saxon times was a very important town and port.
In 875 Wareham Castle, then the strongest place in all Wessex, was surprised and taken by a Danish general, and it was not until 877, two years later, that King Alfred succeeded in driving his Danish foes out of Wareham. To prevent the return of the enemy was the object of building a fortress at Corfe (“Corfes-geat,” as it was then called), a break or pass in the lofty range of the Purbeck hills. To quote from Hutchins’ _History of Dorset_:
Whatever may have been the size or construction of the castle in the days of King Alfred, it was greatly extended and embellished in the century next following under the direction of the magnificent King Edgar.
With Elfrida, the infamous Queen of King Edgar, commences what is important in the history of this castle. King Edgar, who died in the thirty-third year of his age, bequeathed this Castle of Corfe to her as a dowry mansion, and in this princely residence, which her royal husband had with so much cost and care prepared for her, she plotted and accomplished the murder of his son. On the death of Edgar (975) there was a contest between two parties in the state, the one supporting the claim to the throne of Edward, son of the late King by his first wife, the other seeking to place the crown on the head of Ethelred, the son of Elfrida. Edward’s cause, which was supported by Dunstan, succeeded; but he only reigned, as we shall presently see, four years.
King Edgar was twice married. By his first wife he had issue, Edward, who at a very early age became his successor, and who is known in history as King Edward the Martyr.
The second wife of Edgar was Elfrida, daughter of Ordgar, Earl of Devonshire. It is related that the fame of her transcendent beauty having reached the King’s ears, he sent one of his earls, named Athelwold, to visit her father and ascertain privately whether her charms were as great as they had been represented. Athelwold saw her, and, immediately becoming enamoured, made a false report to his sovereign, and won her for himself. Rumours, however, that he had been deceived, soon reached the King, and he determined to ascertain the truth with his own eyes. Alarmed at the impending danger, Athelwold entreated his wife to adopt some means of disguising her charms; but Elfrida had now an opportunity of gratifying her ambition. She exerted all her powers to increase her natural beauty, and succeeded in attracting the attention of the King. To get rid of Athelwold was in those days the simplest of transactions, and King Edgar, having caused Athelwold to be assassinated in a wood, Elfrida became his Queen. So great was the King’s love for Elfrida that he is said to have granted the whole county of Dorset for her dowry. But Elfrida had not yet reached the height of her ambition. It was not sufficient for her to have become a queen through assassination, for she scrupled not, after her husband’s death, also by means of assassination, to make a king of her own son. In the month of March (978) Edward the Martyr, as he is now called, was hunting in a large wood near Wareham. Towards evening he resolved to pay a visit to his brother, who resided at the Castle with their royal mother. The attendants of the King had been dispersed in the chase; he was alone, and Elfrida, having notice of this favourable opportunity, came forth in a most affable and friendly manner, inviting him to alight from his horse. This he declined to do, and remained at the gate, expressing his desire to see his brother. The Queen then called for wine, which he had scarce put to his lips when one of her attendants, who had given the King the kiss of peace, stabbed him in the back. Some of the ancient chroniclers affirm that Elfrida herself gave him both the kiss and the mortal wound whilst he was drinking. In any case, finding himself wounded, the King rode away; but, fainting from loss of blood, he fell from his horse, and, his foot being entangled in the stirrup, he was dragged a considerable distance, until the horse stopped of its own accord at a bridge which crosses the small river that flows at the foot of the hill on which the Castle stands. A servant, sent by Elfrida to ascertain the result of her treachery, found the murdered Prince dead, and terribly defaced by the flints over which he had been dragged. The Queen, to conceal the fact, ordered his body to be lodged in a house near where it was, and covered with such mean clothes as were at hand.
Of course, there are plenty of miraculous stories attached to this true history, of which we in this twentieth century may believe as much or as little as we like. It is said, for instance, that in the house where King Edward’s body lay lived a woman who was born blind, but at midnight she found her sight restored, and, to her great terror, her house was full of light. In the morning, the Queen, being informed of these circumstances, and fearing a discovery, ordered the body to be thrown into a well. She then retired to a mansion called Bere, ten miles distant. Her own son, Ethelred, on expressing his grief at his mother’s inhuman act, received a severe beating from her with some large wax tapers, they being the first weapons which the royal mother could lay her hands on wherewith to chastise her son.
In the year following, a second miracle is said to have taken place—a pillar of fire descended from above and illuminated the place where the body was hidden. Some devout people of Wareham brought it to the church of St. Mary in that town, and buried it in a plain manner.
As for the once beautiful but now guilty Elfrida, it is related that she became extremely penitent, and, abdicating her regal state, retired to the Abbey of Wherwell, in Hampshire, which she had founded, and there, having clothed her body in hair-cloth, for many years slept at night on the ground without a pillow, and mortified her flesh with every kind of penance.
We meet with few incidents of an important character connected with Corfe Castle during the first six reigns after the Norman Conquest.
During the eventful reign of the tyrannical John (1199-1216) Corfe Castle became again a royal residence. The King deposited within its walls his treasure and regalia, using the Castle also for the confinement of State prisoners, the objects of his jealousy and revenge. In the year 1202 King John took prisoners at the Castle of Mirabel in Poitou, in France, the youthful Prince Arthur, Duke of Brittany, his nephew, together with his sister, the Princess Eleanor. It must be remembered that this Prince Arthur, being the only son of John’s elder brother, Geoffrey, was the real heir to the throne after the death of Richard Cœur de Lion. Prince Arthur is supposed to have been murdered at Rouen by order of King John; but the Princess (sometimes called the “Damsel of Bretagne,” and sometimes from her personal attractions, the “Beauty of Brittany”), having inherited her brother’s legal right to the throne, was brought to England and kept a close prisoner for the rest of her life. For some time she was a prisoner in Corfe Castle, where she remained at the decease of her uncle, King John. Two other princesses shared the captivity of the beautiful and high-spirited Eleanor during her residence at Corfe, and were her companions there. These were Margery and Isabel, the two daughters of William, King of Scotland. Some curious and interesting details have come down to us respecting articles supplied for the use of the royal ladies whilst they remained at Corfe Castle, which show that they enjoyed many indulgences. For instance, on June 29th, 1213, the Mayor and Reeves of Winchester were commanded to supply to the Queen, the King’s niece, and the two daughters of the King of Scotland who were at Corfe Castle, such robes and caps and all other things necessary for the vestment as should be demanded (the cost to be repaid out of the King’s Exchequer). There is another interesting entry on July 6th, 1213: The Mayor of Winchester was commanded to send in haste to the King, for the use of his niece, Eleanor, and the two daughters of the King of Scotland, robes of dark green, namely, tunics and super-tunics, with capes of cambric and fur of Minever and twenty-three yards of good linen cloth; also, for the King’s niece, one good cap of dark brown, furred with Minever, and one hood for rainy weather, for the use of the same; besides robes of bright green, for the use of their three waiting-maids; also tunics and super-tunics and cloaks with capes of Minever or rabbit-skins and furs of lamb-skins, and thin shoes, for the use of the daughters of the King of Scotland, the King’s niece, and her three waiting-maids; also, for the use of the King’s niece, one saddle, with gilded reins; and the Mayor is to come himself with all the above articles to Corfe, there to receive the money for the cost of the same. A little later on, another cap for rainy weather, a riding saddle, shoes, and sixty yards of linen cloth, are ordered to be supplied from Winchester.
The prices paid give us an insight into the value of money at that period:—
£ s. d. A silken couch 1 10 1 2 coverlets of fine linen 2 2 1 6½ yards of scarlet for coverlets 1 3 0 1 fur of lamb-skin 0 4 0
Ten shillings a day were allowed to the Sheriff for the Princesses’ maintenance.
To return to Prince Arthur and his wicked uncle. King John captured at the same time as Prince Arthur many barons and more than two hundred knights of Poitou and Guienne, who were in arms with Prince Arthur. These were all loaded with irons and sent to different prisons in Normandy and England. Many of these poor prisoners perished in their prisons, and no fewer than twenty-two of the noblest and bravest of them were starved to death in Corfe Castle.
From the reign of King John to that of Queen Elizabeth allusion is frequently made in history to Corfe Castle.
It was in 1587, in the days of Queen Elizabeth, that Corfe Castle ceased to be a royal residence, she having sold it to Sir Christopher Hatton for £4,761 18s. 7½d. Sir Christopher repaired and decorated the Castle at vast expense.
During the “Invincible Armada” scare, Corfe Castle once more became a fortress. Cannons were for the first time mounted on its walls, and Queen Elizabeth for encouragement gave a charter to the inhabitants of the Castle and borough, which conferred upon them all the same rights and privileges as those enjoyed by the inhabitants of the Cinque Ports, including the right of returning two members to Parliament. The Spanish fleet did, in fact, pass within a short distance of the Dorset coast; but, as the so-called Invincible Armada came utterly to grief, it gave no further trouble.
As Sir Christopher Hatton died a bachelor, Corfe Castle passed to his nephew Sir William Hatton, who, dying without children, left the Castle to his widow, the Lady Elizabeth Hatton, who married Lord Chief Justice Coke.