Part 3

=Here lieth will’m Complyn & Annes his wife yᵉ Whiche will’m decessid yᵉ xxj day of mayj yᵉ yere of oure lord mc.c.c.clxxxxviiii. Also this be ze dedis yᵗ ze said will’m hath down to this Church of Wike yᵗ is to say frest dedycacion of yᵉ Church xlˢ & to make newe bellis to yᵉ sam Church xˡ also gave to yᵉ halloyeng of yᵉ grettest bell vjˢ. viij. d. & for yᵉ testimonyall’ of the dedicacion of yᵉ sam Church vjˢ viii. d. on whos soules ihu have mercy Amen.=

I observed that _z_ is here twice put for _y_--and the fact reminded me of the pronunciation of the agricultural people here.

As I left the quaint little sanctuary I found an old labouring man standing outside gazing at it wistfully in an attitude of meditation. I was glad to see this. “The poorest,” I thought, “can appreciate the ancient and the beautiful.” But his reflections were more practical. As I passed he gave me a curious look, and said, with a twinkle in his grey eyes--

“Richest living about Winchester, zir.”

“Indeed,” I replied. “How much do you make it?”

“Eight hundred and fifty, zir.”

“The rector would be glad to receive half that,” I returned.

Resuming my walk I soon came in sight of a white cylindrical building with a globular top, on the high ground of Harestock. As I saw my agricultural friend trudging after me I stopped to ask him about it.

“What is that?” I inquired.

“That? Oh that is a place for looking at the stars. It belongs to Captain Knight; he is a great astrologer.”

[Sidenote: Littleton.]

As I did not want my horoscope cast I passed on, and proceeded along a hilly road between high banks, where grew the blue scabious and long spikes of yellow agrimony and mullein, till in two miles I descended into the village of Littleton. The church has been restored and thus lost much of its interest, but there is here a dark square font of massive stone, by which we think we can see the immediate descendants of the Norman invaders standing to have their children christened. There is also a brass on the floor in front of the chancel dating from 1493. Opening into the churchyard is an old cottage parsonage, in which the clergyman formerly lived when he was--

“Passing rich on forty pounds a year.”

On one side was the large, low kitchen with its wide hearth; on the other, the little room which was the parson’s drawing-room, parlour, and study.[31]

Two years ago there was a great conflagration opposite this church, a number of cottages were burnt, and some of the villagers had narrow escapes.

This is three miles from Winchester, and a mile further on I came to Mr. Carrick Moore’s house, his large stables for racehorses, and a field laid out with jumps for training steeplechasers. The racecourse is not far from this on the right. Racing has long been a favourite amusement at Winchester. In 1634 a cup was provided by the city; and again in 1705, when Queen Anne was here, the kindly civic chest was not appealed to in vain. This was an improvement on the old sport of bull-baiting, for which it had been ordered that two Winchester butchers should provide two or three times a year one “sufficient fighting bull,” the other butchers contributing 6d. each a year.

At this point there is on the left a distant view of the woods of Mr. Vanderbyl, and passing on along grassy banks, spangled with rock cistus, I came to a pool at the commencement of Crawley. The village runs up a hill, at the top of which is the church adjacent to the beautiful grounds of Crawley Court (Lord Kinnaird). The church is reached through an avenue of limes: it contains some small Norman pillars, a brass recording diffusely the virtues of a rector named Reniger, who died in 1606, and a chest which once performed the double service of strongbox and communion table.

From this point I returned to the pool, and taking the road to the right came in about two miles to the woods of Lainston on the right, and a double avenue of limes opposite the lodge of Mr. Vanderbyl. A mile farther on a loftier avenue opens, at the end of which stood Lainston House. I cannot say that I saw it clearly for the sun dazzled me, setting directly behind it.

[Sidenote: A Maid of Honour.]

Close to the house stand the ruins of Lainston Church, picturesquely situated in dense woods. Here one fine August morning, in 1744, the gay Miss Chudleigh was privately married to Hervey, a naval officer, who became third Earl of Bristol. Notwithstanding this, and her having two children, she continued to be called “Miss Chudleigh,” and to be a maid of honour. George II. affected to be in love with her, and even went so far as to kiss her at a party. Twenty-five years afterwards she contracted a bigamous marriage with Pierrepont, Duke of Kingston, which was set aside. She was a prominent figure in Ranelagh Gardens, and her dress seems to have harmonized with her performances. Walpole says that on one occasion she appeared at a masquerade as Iphigenia, but “as naked as Andromeda.”[32]

In this vicinity, but lying off the high road and consequently little visited by strangers, is the scattered village of Sparsholt, with its two inns, one shop, and post office. It was perhaps a more important place in ancient days, for Roman relics have been found here. The church is small; its architecture varies from transitional Norman to Perpendicular. During the late restorations the tomb of a priest was opened, and with him were found a chalice and paten of latten, now in the vicar’s possession.

The village water supply is obtained from a well of unusual depth. Over it is placed a large broad wheel, and the ropes by which the buckets are lowered and raised are coiled round what may be called the axle. The water drawer steps on the stairs of the wheel to raise the bucket, and if unused to the treadmill--which no doubt these happy rustics are--must be well tired before his efforts are crowned with success.

Down the road is a stile by which one may enter what is locally known as the “Avenue,” a lovely piece of woodland scenery, abounding in noble trees. Here we may pleasantly rest for a while, and listen to the cooing of wood-pigeons or watch squirrels at their merry gambols. Through this a path leads to the high road, along which, past Harestock and Wyke, we reach Winchester again.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Add. MSS. 6036.

[2] Pat. Rolls, 8 Henry IV. The foundations of a church with two monoliths in them have been discovered near St. George’s Street.

[3] Patent and Close Rolls.

[4] “Every man having a holding or garden bounding on the High Street shall enclose the same with a sufficient pale or stone wall upon pain of 20s.” (Edw. VI., Black Book). Thatch was forbidden in this street in 1652.

[5] Add. MSS. 6036.

[6] He adds that there is outside the city a dry chalky down where the air is worth sixpence a pint.

[7] It then belonged to the Mayor and Corporation, who had it repaired.

[8] See “Historic Winchester,” by Misses Bramston and Leroy.

[9] “In castello Wincestre apud Wintoniam in thesauro.” Mr. Hubert Hall thinks that the book was removed soon afterwards to London, but Mr. Round is of opinion that it remained in Winchester until the last quarter of the twelfth century. I cannot venture to decide a question upon which such eminent authorities are at variance.

[10] In an engraving in my possession, dated 1787, part of this old wall is seen adhering to the east end of the hall, and the entrance is in the original place.

[11] We read of the “Hermits” and “Black” towers. Mr. Stopher informs me that, judging by the base of the North Tower, uncovered in 1876, “these towers were some of the finest in the kingdom, with handsome double plinths.”

[12] Patent Rolls, 48 Henry III.

[13] Patent Rolls, 5 John.

[14] Close Rolls, 7 John. The houses in Winchester, called La Parrok, were given to Galfro de Hanville, for keeping girfalcons by Henry III. (6th year, Close Rolls).

[15] There are traces of round windows near the roof, which have been walled up, and there are some iron hooks remaining, on which shutters were hung before glass was permanently inserted.

[16] Henry V. was here, and at his funeral Arthur’s traditional bearings, three crowns, were carried.

[17] The table had twelve legs, and it is supposed that it was made round to avoid any invidious precedence, and that it was intended for the feasting of the knights at a tournament. There was generally a desire to throw some legendary glory around these “solemnities.” The paint, except on the lines between the segments, has not been touched since Henry VIII.’s time.

[18] Some persons think that the legends of King Arthur have been wrongly attached to this neighbourhood through Winchester, “Gwent,” being mistaken for the “Gwent” in Monmouthshire.

[19] Pat. Rolls, 16 Henry III. m 5. There was a hall here previously.

[20] Pat. 45 Henry III.

[21] Close Rolls, 6 Henry III.

[22] Cotton. Titus, B. ii. 242.

[23] He took her from the Nunnery of St. Mary’s, at Romsey. Rufus went to court her, but the abbess showed him the convent garden with the “Romsey roses,” where he saw her attired like a nun. She was buried in this Cathedral with the inscription “called by the English Molde the good Queen.”

[24] Henry III. threw the Winchester jury into the lowest dungeon of the Castle because they would not find guilty thirty highwaymen, friends of theirs, whom he condemned to be hanged.

[25] The King’s spokesman on the occasion was the celebrated Archbishop Chicheley--originally a poor boy whom Wykeham met on the road and patronized.

[26] See notice in “Historic Winchester,” by Misses Bramston and Leroy.

[27] There is a ball in the Museum which fell in the Castle Hall.

[28] An interesting account of “The Civil War in and around Winchester” has been published by the Rev. G. N. Godwin.

[29] There is in the Bodleian a book of rules to be observed by these priests. They were to avoid going out together in large numbers so as not to attract attention.

[30] Mr. Baigent has written an interesting little book on Wyke.

[31] Wyke, Compton, and Chilcombe were given to the monastery to support commemorative festivals, but Littleton for the entertainment of guests.

[32] A picture of her “in Ranelagh costume” was long hanging in the Chelsea bunhouse.

SECOND DAY.

“God Begot” House--The High Street--Old Guildhall--Butter Cross--King Alfred--The Penthouse--St. Maurice’s Church--The Bell and Crown--New Guildhall--Museum--Archives--St. Mary’s Nunnery--St. John’s Hospital--Soke Prison--St. Giles’ Hill--The Fair.

Next morning we started in the opposite direction--eastward down the High Street. On the left-hand side we soon came to a curiously narrow street or alley, running beside a large bookseller’s shop, and entering it saw above us an immense timber-crossed gable, leaning over so as almost to touch the opposite houses. Further down the alley--in which the “Royal Oak” public-house, once the “Cross Keys,” is situated--we still see above us a line of overhanging stories. We can walk round this block, and return into the High Street by St. Peter’s Street.

This building, on which is inscribed in large letters “God-begot House,” is at present occupied by the two establishments of Mr. Perkins, a draper, and Miss Pamplin, a stationer. From the house of the former the panelling has been removed, but behind the shop is a small room with a richly stuccoed ceiling.

Miss Pamplin showed us over her house with great courtesy. The upper part is wainscoted with oak. The drawing-room is handsome--low, of course--and it has many beams in the ceiling, radiating from the centre. The walls are covered with carved panelling, the most elaborate part, over the fireplace, exhibiting small round-headed arches with intricate mouldings, while the opposite wall is adorned with lines of large rosettes. The bedroom in the roof at the back shows some curious woodwork; from it there is a good view of the back of this old-world edifice, with its long-tiled roofs sloping inwards to a central court.

[Sidenote: God-begot House.]

This house, which dates from 1667, is large, and let in apartments. It stands on the site of the Church of St. Peter’s, in Macellis--that is, in the shambles--and was surrounded by butchers’ stalls, St. Peter’s Street having been called Fleshmonger Street. There seems to have been a house of an ecclesiastical character, called “God-begot,” adjoining the church, and the privileges of the spot are said to have been originally granted by Queen Emma, the mother of Edward the Confessor, to the Priory of St. Swithun. It was a sanctuary--a place of refuge for the guilty--and many conflicts arose about it between the civil and ecclesiastical authorities, sometimes men being forcibly dragged out of it. Strange to say, it was also a manor. A record was kept here; courts were held, and judgments delivered.

On the opposite side of the street is the old Guildhall, in front of which a large clock is held out over the street by an arm of old carved wood.

“Why it looks as if it might fall on one’s head,” said Miss Hertford.

“If you have any fear of that,” I replied, “be assured there is nothing in it; the case is empty, the works being in the curfew tower above.”

“What is the meaning of the three swords over it?” inquired Miss Hertford. “They remind me of a conjuring trick.”

“They represent the arms of Paulet, Marquess of Winchester,” I replied; “to whom the small fee farm-rent of the city, once belonging to the Crown, is still paid. The most remarkable thing about this clock is that it is very troublesome, as like other old timepieces, it requires to be wound up every day.”

The old Guildhall was behind the figure of Queen Anne on the first floor, the ground floor belonging to St. John’s Hospital. This division preserved the fine oak staircase to the hall, which necessarily led up from a side street. We went up these stairs, and Miss Hertford observed they were in a very dirty condition, but, as our guide said they were used every day for winding and lighting the clock, and ringing the bell in the curfew tower,[33] we were not much surprised. The panelling in the old Guildhall has been removed to the new one. No mayor and aldermen now sit here in state, but there are plenty of gowns, robes, and collars, for the hall has been formed into the show-rooms of Mr. King’s drapery establishment.

[Sidenote: The Butter Cross.]

The next object that claims our attention is the Butter Cross. It dates from the reign of Henry VI., when a fraternity employed themselves in erecting such structures. If we recall past times we shall picture to ourselves here a motley crowd of market people intermixed with brethren of the cord and gown, and shall hear much noisy bargaining going forward. Later on, about 1650, we find a more stately gathering. The guild of merchants were to meet the Mayor every Sunday here to accompany him to church. This would seem to have been a compulsory, rather than a voluntary, meeting, and about seventy years earlier we find people imprisoned for not attending “sermonds.”

“It is to be regretted that this disinclination continues,” said Miss Hertford, “but those who frequent the afternoon services at cathedrals, cannot fail to observe the desire there is to hear the anthem and avoid the discourse.”

In a sketch of this Cross, made in the year 1770,[34] we find the upper niches vacant. The only ancient figure is that of St. Laurence, who holds what appears to be a sword, but is in reality intended for a palm branch. This Cross was sold by the City Corporation to Mr. Dummer, in the middle of the last century, and was in danger of being removed (as the Bristol Cross actually was); but the good people of Winchester rose indignantly when they heard of the intended sacrilege, forcibly drove away the men engaged to do the objectionable work.

Under the passage which leads from the Cross to the “Square” is the door to St. Lawrence’s Church, a building curiously inserted among houses. It reminds us of the way in which Winchester was in olden times honey-combed with churches and chapels. This is considered to be the mother church of Winchester, the bishop is inducted here, and goes into the tower to ring the bell. Most of the present edifice is modern, but the tower and east window are of the fifteenth century. Opposite the entrance to this church is a piece of Norman stone-work with some ornamental carving upon it--the only specimen of the domestic architecture of that date in Winchester--perhaps a part of the palace built here by William the Conqueror, which extended up this side of the High Street,[35] and across to Minster Street and Lane. The foundations of an ancient tower of “prodigious strength” were found at the beginning of the present century by a workman digging in Market Street.

We are now close to the “Square” where the Saxon palace probably stood.

[Sidenote: The Name of England.]

The Saxon period was in one respect the most remarkable in Winchester, for the city was then the capital of Wessex, and Wessex became the mother of England. We read in the old chroniclers that Egbert was crowned in Winchester Cathedral the first King of England, and that at a Witenagemot or parliament, held by him here in the year 800, it was determined that the name of England should supersede that of Britain. Egbert was the first who united the kingdoms of the heptarchy, and the probability that he changed the name is increased by the fact that “Anglia,” which is nowhere found in any document anterior to this time, begins to appear immediately afterwards.[36]

[Sidenote: Alfred the Great.]

But the principal figure that the Saxon palace at Winchester brings before us, is that of Alfred. He deserved the title of Great better than many who obtained it, for he was not only victorious in battle, but was essentially a scholar--indeed his successes were mainly the result of his study and industry. A shade of melancholy seems always to have hung over his mind, perhaps due to his constant physical suffering, though he writes:--

“To those who eat Honeycomb it seems more sweet, If a man before the tear Of honey, taste of bitter cheer.”

In the following lines there is a touch of sadness worthy of the author of Ecclesiastes:--

“Why did your songs to me, World-loving men, Say joy belongs to me Ever as then?

Why did ye lyingly Think such a thing, Seeing how flyingly Wealth may take wing?”

Many are accustomed to speak despondingly of the degeneracy of the nineteenth century, but it sounds strange to hear Alfred condemning the luxury of his time, which we generally regard as semi-civilized. He looks back regretfully to the good old days:--

“When through all the world there were No great halls of costly care, No rich feasts of meat and drink Neither did they heed or think Of such jewels then unknown As our lordlings long to own. Nor did seamen e’er behold Nor had heard of gems or gold.”

We may picture Alfred living in his palace here, surrounded by this rude magnificence, but with a mind far above its allurements. His life corroborated the saying that religion is best for both worlds. Perhaps his devotional tendencies came from his father, who had been a monk. He ever consorted with learned men, and made great improvements, among others rendering his fleet more efficient. There was great joy in Winchester in 899 when, after a sea fight between the Saxons and Danes, two of the marauders’ ships were captured, and the crews brought here to the King, and hanged on the gallows.

A copy of an ancient charter giving property to the church of Evesham is interesting, as it shows Rufus here in 1100, surrounded by the bishops of London, Lincoln, and Durham, the abbots of Westminster and St. Albans, the Chancellor, and many other barons of the whole of England, at the solemn feast of Easter.[37] It was from this that Rufus started on his unfortunate expedition into the New Forest.

It is supposed that somewhere in the neighbourhood of the Conqueror’s palace were the mint and treasury. It is said that the six mints established by Athelstan were under the site of the Penthouse.[38] As I had heard of some vaults remaining which I could not find, I went into one of the shops there to inquire.

“Well, sir,” replied the owner, “I have some doubts whether there ever was any mint here; but,” he added, with a comical expression, “I am quite certain there is none now.”

The site of the “Penthouse” was originally occupied by the “Draperie.” Trade guilds existed here from Henry I.’s time, and this became the Guildhall. Henry III. ordered that this Draperie Street should be the “Great Street,” as in the time of his father. In Henry VIII.’s reign we find the Penthouse mentioned as the “Pentisse.”

“Such shelters were very welcome a hundred years ago,” said Mr. Hertford, “before umbrellas were used. You know that some have thought that in ‘under the rose,’ the word should be ‘rows.’”

[Sidenote: Murder by a Priest.]

“Close to this,” I continued, “beside the wall of St. Lawrence’s Church, a murder took place, in the twenty-first year of Richard II., which brings before us the lawless state of the times. One James Dyngeley, a priest, struck a man named Walter Pynchon, through the back to the heart with a baslard. This weapon was a large dagger suspended to the girdle, and worn by laymen and by some priests, notwithstanding an ecclesiastical prohibition. Roger, the parson of St. Lawrence, claimed the prisoner (as an ecclesiastic) for the Bishop of Winchester, and he was incarcerated in Wolvesey Castle. From this he broke out with others on the 5th of December, in the fifth year of Henry IV., but was pardoned by the King for this and other felonies--a proof of the influence of the Church in those days.”[39]

The next church we come to is St. Maurice’s, which is modern, the fifteenth-century tower has a good Norman doorway looking towards the Cathedral. There are some old registers belonging to this church which record the burials of men killed in the Soke (across the bridge), fighting with the Roundheads in the days of Cromwell. There is a monument here in which the admirers of William Widmore have made him ridiculous for ever, by calling him “a friend without guile, and an apothecary without ostentation;” the less excusable, as they say he was “an honest Englishman.”

Opposite this church is a passage leading to the “Bell and Crown.” A hostel of that name has stood here ever since Henry V.’s reign. The building now on the spot is old, and has been evidently much altered. The wall of the staircase is spotted over with a small blue pattern.

“I thought there was a paper on the wall,” said the landlord, “and was going to have another put over it; but a gentleman said to me, ‘Do no such thing. Why, that is stencilled! there is not another house in Winchester can show such decoration.’”

Stencilling was much used in the last century.

“I have heard,” said Mr. Hertford, “that the celebrated Miss Mellon (Duchess of St. Albans) went about when young with her father and a company of actors who, as occasion offered, acted plays and stencilled rooms.”

The work is performed by placing against the wall a thin piece of metal on which a pattern has been cut, and then brushing paint over it. This ornamentation is interesting, as showing the transition from frescoes and panelling to paper-hangings.

The passage in front of the “Bell and Crown” was formerly a large archway, on the eastern side of which there was a hall for entertainments.