Part 15

_St. George’s Church_ exemplifies better than any other what has been said concerning the restoration of the Stamford churches after the 1461 havoc. Without this explanation a visitor would be sorely puzzled on beholding a series of nave columns, each consisting of an Early English base supporting an octagonal drum of Decorated date, above which is an Early English cylindrical section, surmounted in its turn by another octagonal portion and a cap, both of Decorated style. The church once possessed a series of windows containing representations of King Edward III. and the first Knights of the Garter, but unfortunately this glass, which would have been of inestimable value and interest at the present time, was destroyed during the Parliamentary wars.

_St. Michael’s Church_ is quite modern (consecrated in 1836), though it occupies the site of an eleventh or twelfth century building. It contains but little of interest to the ecclesiologist.

A portion (the south aisle) of the _Church of St. Paul_ survives, and has been used since the sixteenth century as a class-room in connection with the Grammar School. It is a curious and somewhat puzzling building, being partly of thirteenth-century date, but having on the south wall a Norman corbel-table. It also contains fragments of later date, a piscina and a small heart shrine.

So far all the churches we have been considering are on the Lincolnshire side of the river, but for the sake of completeness a word or two must be said of the _Church of St. Martin_ in the Northamptonshire part of the town, though this is strictly outside our subject. It is mainly a fifteenth-century structure, though there are traces of the older building which is known to have existed on this site. Some of the windows contain some fine old glass which was brought here from Tattershall Church and elsewhere; but perhaps the chief interest of the church to the visitor is afforded by the series of tombs of the Cecil family, including those of the great Elizabethan statesman, Lord Burghley, and of his father and mother, as well as a very pretentious Italian marble monument commemorating John, Earl of Exeter (_ob._ 1700), and his wife Anne. An opportunity occurs here to correct an error which has found its way, by repeated copyings, into almost all the printed accounts of this church, to the effect that William Laud, who became Archbishop of Canterbury, was once curate of St. Martin’s, Stamford, whereas the parish which can in reality claim this distinction is Stanford (formerly known as Stanford-on-Avon), near the borders of Warwickshire. Both places being in the same county and diocese, the mistake is a not unnatural one.[90]

Before we pass from the consideration of Stamford’s architectural features, we must briefly notice another class of institutions with which the borough is exceptionally well endowed, namely, almshouses; and chief among these is Browne’s Hospital or Bedehouse, founded towards the end of the fifteenth century by that William Browne whose name has already been mentioned as the rebuilder of All Saints’ Church. He was a wealthy merchant of the Staple of Calais, born of an old Stamford family, and was himself six times Mayor of the borough. The Bedehouse is under the care of a Warden and Confrater, and accommodates ten men and two women. The residential part of the establishment was rebuilt in 1870, but the old dormitory (no longer so used), with the audit-room over it, the cloisters, and the small chapel communicating with both, and extending upwards to the full height of the building, remain as they were. The oak screen, through which the chapel is entered from the west, is an exquisite example of woodwork of the best Perpendicular Period, and the windows of the chapel and audit-room contain some very beautiful contemporary glass. The Bedehouse, moreover, possesses some fine and valuable furniture and fittings, including a very curious almsbox discovered in a wall during the 1870 restoration.

Hopkins’ Hospital, founded in 1770, contains in one of its walls a gargoyle and part of a window, the only remaining fragments of the Austinian Friary which stood close by.

Lord Burghley’s Bedehouse was founded by the great Lord Treasurer in 1597. It occupies the site of the old Hospital of St. John and St. Thomas at the south end of the town bridge.

Fryer’s Almshouses, Truesdale’s Hospital, Snowden’s Hospital (or St. John’s Callis), Williamson’s Hospital, and St. Peter’s Hospital (or All Saints’ Callis), of which a mere enumeration must suffice, combine to make a formidable list of such charitable institutions, which speaks well for the philanthropy and public spirit of past generations of Stamfordians.

After this somewhat lengthy architectural digression it is time to resume the thread of Stamford’s general history where we left it at the beginning of the church-building period. In 1206 the manorial rights of Stamford were conveyed by the King to the Norman noble, William, Earl Warren, whose name figures largely in the early history of the town. He made considerable additions to the castle, and, according to tradition, was responsible for instituting the famous “bull running” in the river meadows below the Castle, which became a popular annual celebration. The story goes that Earl Warren observed one day in the water meadows an infuriated bull, which made its way into the town, scattering and attacking in its wild career those of the inhabitants who were unlucky enough to come in its way. The spectacle appears to have appealed to Warren’s sporting instincts, and he thereupon made over the meadow to the butchers of the town on condition that they provided a bull annually on 13th November for a repetition of the pastime. It was not until 1839, after a keen struggle between the public and the authorities lasting for several years, that this ignoble “sport” was suppressed.

Earl Warren’s arms (checquy argent and azure), impaling the royal arms of England, are borne by the borough of Stamford to this day, as can be seen by a glance at the shield on the front of the Town Hall on St. Mary’s Hill.

In 1256 Henry III. granted the first charter to the town, and we may, perhaps, pause here for a moment to consider the municipal history of the borough, which has been a long and honourable one. Edward IV., in the first year of his reign, bestowed a second charter on the town by which the chief alderman was raised to a position of exceptional privilege and responsibility, being within his jurisdiction the immediate lieutenant of the King. The next charter dates from the reign of Charles II., and in this the chief alderman is for the first time styled “Mayor.” The last charter was granted by James II. The early archives of Stamford perished, like so many other valuable possessions, in the Lancastrian onslaught upon the town in 1461, but the subsequent municipal deeds and documents, including the 1461 charter, have been carefully preserved. The Stamford corporation, moreover, possess exceptionally fine regalia, including a small and very beautiful silver mace believed to be of the time of Edward IV., a larger mace dated 1660, and a third of majestic size presented in 1678. The last, which bears the initials of King Charles II., was given by Charles Bertie, who was one of the members representing Stamford in Parliament. He also presented the corporation with a valuable silver punch-bowl, capable of containing five gallons. Two additional silver cups were the gifts of other donors in 1650 and 1658.

In 1266 a situation arose in connection with Stamford which forms a curious chapter in her annals. Following on the revocation by Henry III. of a licence under which a number of students from Oxford and Cambridge had established themselves at Northampton, a migration of these young men to Stamford took place, and their numbers being increased by a further secession from Oxford in 1333, there grew up in the town a species of rudimentary university which at length incurred the jealousy of the older universities. Both parties appealed to the King, with the result that the Stamfordians were ordered to disperse. It was not, however, till some of the more recalcitrant of the students had been removed in custody to Oxford that the royal mandate could effect its purpose. It is believed that up to comparatively recent years the undergraduates of Oxford and Cambridge were called upon to register a definite undertaking that they would abstain from studying at Stamford. The scene of this episode in Stamford’s history was on the south side of St. Paul’s Street, the site being now occupied by a girls’ school, still known as Brazenose, and standing where the old Brazenose College of the Oxford seceders formerly stood until demolished in 1668. The famous Brazenose knocker, which the Oxonians are said to have carried with them from their Oxford hall, remained behind at Stamford until late in the nineteenth century, when the authorities of Brazenose College, Oxford, purchased the premises and bore the precious relic in triumph back to its original home on the banks of the Isis.

In 1293 Queen Eleanor’s body rested here on its way from Harby to Westminster, and a cross (of which nothing now remains to mark the site) was erected on the western side of the town, near St. Clement’s Gate, as was done at each point where the cortège halted on its journey.

In 1363 the Castle and manor of Stamford were given by Edward III. to his son Edward, Duke of York. The connection thus established naturally led the inhabitants to espouse the Yorkist cause in the Wars of the Roses which followed in the next century, and they thus brought upon themselves the calamities which have already been referred to in dealing with the churches in the town. In 1461 the Lancastrian army, marching towards St. Albans under Sir Andrew Trollope, attacked, captured and well nigh demolished the town, at the same time destroying all the municipal archives. Ten years later, however, occurred what is known as the “Lincolnshire Rising,” which ended in the defeat of the Lancastrians near Empingham, a few miles north of Stamford.[91] In this fight the Stamfordians by their courage earned for themselves such distinction that King Edward IV. marked his appreciation of their services by granting permission for the royal lions to be placed on the coat-of-arms of Stamford side by side with the arms of Earl Warren.

Of the events of the next half century we will only mention the re-establishment and re-endowment of the old Grammar School (which is known to have been in existence for over two centuries previously) by William Radcliffe in 1530, the benefits of whose munificence are enjoyed to this day by the boys of the town and district.

The latter half of the sixteenth century witnessed the dissolution of the monasteries under Henry VIII. This event in a town which, as we have seen, contained religious foundations of nearly every order then in existence, must have wrought an overwhelming upheaval, and as we contemplate the situation we are forced to realise that, to a great extent, Stamford’s glory had departed.

In Elizabeth’s reign began the rise of the Cecil family, whose fortunes have since been so closely bound up with Stamford.

Richard Cecil, the father of the great Lord Treasurer, obtained possession of the manor of Burghley in 1528, and, after adding considerably to the estates, died in 1552, and was buried in St. Margaret’s Church, Westminster. His more famous son William, afterwards first Lord Burghley, was born at Bourne, and received part of his education at Stamford Grammar School, proceeding thence to St. John’s College, Cambridge. He rose to be a statesman of eminence under Edward VI., but his name is, of course, more intimately associated with the reign of Elizabeth. The Queen on more than one occasion visited Stamford, and the room, with its furniture, which she occupied at Burghley House is still shown to visitors. The Lord Treasurer was a great benefactor to Stamford, of which he was made lord of the manor by his royal mistress. It is, perhaps, hardly necessary to state that both branches of the Cecil family, now represented by the Marquises of Exeter and Salisbury, trace their descent from the Elizabethan statesman.

In 1565 William Cecil employed John Thorpe to design “Burghley House by Stamford town,” which remains one of the stateliest of England’s stately homes. Seeing, however, that it stands in Northamptonshire, it is not intended to deal at length with the building or the wealth of artistic treasures which it contains.

The troubles of the Civil War did not leave Stamford untouched, and Cromwell’s iconoclastic followers have left their mark on many a church and monument, while Burghley House underwent a siege in 1643.

It is said that Stamford can claim to have been the last place to shelter King Charles I. as a free man; for, after spending a night at a house on Barnhill as the guest of a Mr. Wolph, he passed out under cover of darkness accompanied by two friends, and made his way to the headquarters of the Scottish army near Newark, only to be basely sold by them to the enemy immediately afterwards. The gateway by which the King departed still exists, but was considerably altered by the well-known antiquary, Dr. Stukeley, who occupied the premises in the eighteenth century. From the close of the Civil War, Stamford has enjoyed a period of unbroken peace and quiet prosperity. Before the advent of railways the town was an important posting station from its position on the Great North Road. The immense range of stabling at the back of the famous old “George Inn” sufficiently testifies to the amount of coaching and posting traffic which passed through Stamford during the period in which these were the recognised methods of travelling. The fact that the main line of the Great Northern Railway was taken through Peterborough, instead of through Stamford as was first contemplated, resulted in the latter town being left for a time somewhat in a back-water, though at the present time the railway facilities are admirable. The rapidly increasing use of motor vehicles seems likely to revive to some extent the conditions of the old coaching days; but, like many another venerable and historic town, Stamford seems to have wrapped herself in an atmosphere of dignified repose which even the clamorous passage through her main streets of a stream of turbulent automobiles appears powerless to disturb.

In bringing these memories of old Stamford to a close, the writer is only too conscious that he has been able to do but scant justice to his subject. If, however, any reader be tempted hereby to visit this fascinating old town and thus to supply by his own observation and research all that in these pages is lacking of historical and topographical description, assuredly he will not be disappointed.

TATTERSHALL CASTLE AND CHURCH

BY THE EDITOR

The ancient castles of this country, almost without exception, are full of interest to all sorts and conditions of men and women. The remote antiquity of the rude hill-top fortresses of Cornwall, Wiltshire, and Wales; the huge earthworks of Old Sarum; the story of a gallant defence like Newark; the close association with history of the Tower of London, and with the magic of romance like Conisboro’, Kenilworth, and Carlisle, find devotees for each. Often, too, castles are among the most picturesque objects of picturesque scenery, as Manor Bier, Dunolly, and Tantallon may testify; while to the archæologist they present a world of interest as their plans, their builders, and their history are discussed, occasionally with a wordy vigour which recalls the fights their walls have witnessed.

Few indeed of these attractions can be claimed for Tattershall. A huge square pile of perhaps the most admirable mediæval brickwork in the kingdom (its only real rival being Hurstmonceaux), it can scarcely be called picturesque; its military history is of the slightest, and its plan and general arrangements are fairly well known. Still, from the great architectural charm of its construction and the many and various noble families who have been concerned in its building and possession, no “Memorials of old Lincolnshire” would be complete without some notice of its history.

The word Tattershall is defined by Mr. Streatfield as meaning the house or hall of Teitr, a Scandinavian name, signifying blithe or gay, thus showing that before the Norman Conquest there probably was a Norse or Danish dwelling on this spot.