Part 19

Notwithstanding the damage the Cheney monuments have sustained through this miserable neglect (they were buried in the same transept) the interesting memorials of the Peyvres have not suffered quite so badly. There are three effigies to them, and the indents on some brassless stones in the floor. One figure is a crusader, he is considerably mutilated, was originally a very fine example, on his shield are sculptured the arms of Peyvre,--_On a chevron, three fleurs-de-lys_. Under monumental arches in the south wall are, singly, two well-preserved and most interesting effigies. The knight in chain and plate armour, with bascinet. He wears a rich baudrick, and his surcoat is embroidered with the arms of Peyvre. A lion is at his feet, and angels support the head, holding with one hand an inscribed label which passes across the neck of the effigy under the chin, an unusual arrangement. The lady is in long robes, with rich reticulated head-dress. These figures being sheltered by the arches over them, have not suffered so much by exposure to the weather as did the unprotected effigies of the Cheneys.

It should be mentioned that the transepts have of late for a long period been roofed and restored, and the remains of the monuments carefully got together and looked after.

Sir Thomas Cheney, K.G., who married Anne Broughton of Toddington, appears to have been buried as before mentioned in Minster church, in the Isle of Sheppey, Kent, where he held the manor of Shurland, as descendant of that family.

In Minster church, says Weever,--

"I saw some antique monuments of the _Shurlands_, sometime lords of the mannor of Shurland, hereunto adioyning: of whom the inhabitants have many strange relations. Sir _Robert Shurland_ flourished in the raigne of King _Edward_ the first."

He then gives the following inscription,--

HIC IACET DOMINUS THOMAS CHEYNE INCLITISSIMI ORDINIS GARTERIJ MILES: GUARDIANUS QUINQUE PORTUUM, AC THESAURARIUS HOSPITIJ, HENRICI OCTAVI, AC EDWARDI SEXTI, REGUM: REGINÆQUE MARIÆ, AC ELIZABETHÆ, AC EORUM IN SECRETIS CONSILIARIUS, QUI OBIJT ... MENSIS DECEMBRIS: ANN. DOM. M.D.LIX. AC REG. REGINÆ ELISAB. PRIMO.

and continues,--

"This Sir _Thomas Cheyne_ was also Constable of Queene-Borough Castle, a strong fortresse in this Isle, pleasant for sight, built by King _Edward_ the third; to the terrour of his enemies, and solace of his people; unto which he adioyned a Burgh, and in honour of _Philip_ the Queene his wife, called it Queene-Borough, or as one would say the Queenes Burgh. This hath been an office ever thought worthy of many great personages."

Among these "great personages" three of the Cheneys followed each other as Constables,--Sir William, as thirteenth; Sir Francis, as fourteenth; and Sir Thomas aforesaid, as fifteenth, in their succession.

The three effigies of the Cheneys in the south transept, formerly a Chantry of Toddington church, are ranged facing the east wall, on the site of the antient altar. The remaining portions of the tombs have been built together to the shape of the originals, as near as may be, and the mutilated figures laid on them.

The first of the series from the south wall is Dame Anne Cheney, wife of Sir Thomas Cheney, K.G., buried at Minster, and daughter of Sir John Broughton. She survived her husband two years, and was buried at Toddington.

The effigy, of white stone, is greatly denuded,--she wears a close-fitting cap, small ruff, long gown buttoned down in front, collar edged with fur, full sleeves puffed and slashed at the shoulders. The head rests on two embroidered cushions, the hands are raised in prayer.

Underneath, on each side are three panels, in one is a crest, apparently _a squirrel sejant cracking a nut_ (BROUGHTON?)--the others have blank matrices of shields, surrounded by scroll-work. The brass shields which originally covered them are gone.

Around the cornice of the tomb is this inscription,--

HERE LYETH DAME ANNE CHEYNE DAVGHTER AND HEYRE OF S^R. JOHN BROVGHTON KNIGHT MARRYED TO S^R. THOMAS CHEYNE KNIGHT L^O. WARDEN OF THE CINQ PORTES TREASOROR OF HER MAIESTIES HOVSHOLD OF THE ORDER OF THE GARTER AND ONE OF HER MAIESTIES PRIVIE COVNSELL WHO HAD BVT ONE ONLY CHYLDE THE SAME BEING THE LORD HENRY CHEYNE AND SHE DYED THE 16 DAIE OF MAIE THE THYRD YEARE OF Q ELIZABETH HER RAIGNE ANNO D'NI 1561.

On the panel at the end of the tomb is an escutcheon with these arms,--Quarterly of fifteen:--1. _A chevron between three mullets_ (BROUGHTON).--2. _Three moor's heads._--3. _A chevron between three bird-bolts._--4. _On a chevron, three fleurs-de-lys_ (PEYVRE).--5. _Quarterly, over all a bend._--6. _Quarterly per fess indented._--7. _A bend vaire between six escallops._--8. _A saltire engrailed._--9. _On a cross, five escallops._--10. _Paly of six._--11. _A barnacle._--12. _A fess dancetté between six cross-crosslets._--13. _A cross engrailed._--14. _Two lions passant guardant._--15. _On a chevron, a fleur-de-lys._

The next tomb in the succession is that of Sir Henry Cheney, son of the foregoing, created Baron Cheney of Toddington, 6 May, 1572.[29]

[29] "SR HENRY CHEYNY, now LORDE CHEYNY, called by wrytte to the Parlement holden at Westmr. anno ... (knighted by the Queen's own hand 1563.) Arms, quarterly of seventeen:--1. _Azure, six lioncels rampant, three and three, argent, a canton ermine_ (CHENEY).--2. _Ermine, on the dexter side of a chief, per pale indented or and gules, a rose of the last._--3. _Argent, a chevron between three mullets gules._--4. _Argent, three blackamoors' faces sable._--5. _Sable, a chevron ermine, between three bird-bolts argent._--6. _Argent, on a chevron gules, three fleurs-de-lys or_ (PEYVRE).--7. _Quarterly argent and gules, a bend of the second._--8. _Quarterly per fess indented or and azure._--9. _Gules, a bend vaire, between six escallops or._--10. _Sable, a saltire engrailed argent._--11. _Argent, on a cross azure, five escallops or._--12. _Barry of six argent and sable._--13. _Argent, a horse-barnacle sable._--14. _Gules, a fess dancetté between six cross-crosslets or._--15. _Or, a cross engrailed vert._-16. _Azure, two lions passant guardant in pale or._--17. _Argent, on a chevron sable, a fleur-de-lys of the field._ CREST:--_An heraldic tiger statant vert bezanté, ducally gorged and lined or._" (METCALFE'S _Book of Knights_.)

This tomb and effigy is by far the most mutilated of the three. The portion of the tomb immediately under the figure appears to have had originally the form of a sarcophagus, with ornamented panels probably below.

Of the effigy only the upper part remains, and this is very much denuded and weather-worn. The material used is alabaster, and from the few traces left of the more sheltered portions, was originally of very beautiful workmanship, heightened with gold. He was clad in armour, embroidered trunk-hose, and with collar turned out over the _mentonnière_; the head bare, with curled hair and beard, and the hands raised in prayer. He lies on a mattress, rolled up under the head, which rests on an embroidered cushion laid upon it.

It is grievous to witness the maltreatment and neglect this fine memorial has received, and no trace of inscription or heraldry remains.

The third is the tomb of his wife, Dame Jane Cheney; this is in much the same condition as the first in the series.

The effigy, of alabaster, is headless and much weather-worn. She wears a robe with tippet edged with fur, long gown and waistband. The head rested on two embroidered cushions. The figure was of fine workmanship, similar in character to her husband's.

The tomb below has panels with arabesques, and in their centres shields, originally covered with brasses. On the end panel, under the head, is this inscription,--

HERE LYETH D^A. JANE LATE WIFE OF S^R. HENRIE CHEYNE KNIGHT L^O. CHEYNE OF TODINGTON AND ELDEST DAVGHTER OF S^R. THOMAS WENTWORTH KNIGHT L^O. WENTWORTH AND LORD CHAMBERLAINE TO KING EDWARD THE SIXT WHO DECEASED THE 16 DAIE OF APRIL A^O. D^O. 1614.

HERE LIES MY BODIE IN CORRVPTIONS BED, MY SOVLE BY FAITH AND HOPE TO HEAVEN IS LED, IMPRISONED BY LIFE, DEATH SET ME FREE, THEN WELCOME DEATH, STEP TO ÆTERNITY.

Before we quit the sacred precincts of the old edifice, our steps take us to the chancel, and in scanning the memorials around, are arrested awhile by the record of an interesting but sad episode of home life, occurring during the last days of the residence of the Cheneys in their grand home at Toddington. A small tablet on the south side of the altar,--despoiled apparently, like the tombs in the transept, of its ornamental accessories,--still speaks to us this tribute of sisterly affection,--

IN MEMORIAM FRATRIS POSUIT-SOROR ALISIA BRVS AMORIS ERGO.

GYLIS BRVSE ESQR YONGEST SON'E TO S^R. JOHN BRVSE OF WENHAM IN SUFF' KNYGHT WHO COM'INGE TO TODDYNGTO' TO VISYTE HIS SYSTER ALICE BRVSE THEN ATTENDING ON YE RIGHT HO' YE LADYE CHEYNE THERE DYED YE 13 OF MARCH 1595 AND WAS BY HIS SAYDE SYSTER HERE INTOMBED YE 14 OF MARCH REGNO REGINÆ ELIZAB: 38 ÆTATIS SUÆ 33.

As our stranger-foot turns to depart, the suggestive reflection crosses the thoughts concerning the untoward fate of the vanished Cheneys,--their name extinct, their sumptuous habitation razed to the ground, and their costly memorials also subjected to almost unparalleled indignity, neglect, and injury, short of actual destruction,--can the well-worn but true adage, _sic transit gloria mundi_, ever have received ampler verification?

But why should such striking collapse of this world's artificial grandeur sadden the mind that rejoices in the unobtrusive station, and simple unenvied delights--ever the best--of every-day life? In truth it does not; as we pass out into the pleasant daylight, the olden opulence and state of the departed Cheneys fades into the past as a dream, for a much more healthful sight is before us. To-day is the little rural town's holiday, and its inhabitants are enjoying themselves with unrestrained pleasure, while the fine peal of bells in the tower is also adding melodious tribute to the passing hour. Their delightful cadence follows our retreating steps for a long distance, and as their sweet sound dies to the outward ear, our walk continues to be beguiled with this vagrant inward echo to their

DISTANT CHIMES.

Of poets song, inspirer oft,--yet still Many of thy sweet changes wait unsung,-- Differing as are the hearts thine echoes fill, As various the thoughts then through them rung:-- Who may define these pleasures that arise Within the soul by quickening spell set free? As lief may hand essay to paint the skies, Whose passing glories change eternally.

Is it because we know not whence they come, And only feel the magic of their power? Outside our ken, from some Elysian home, Spring the delights that charm the passing hour; And heaven itself, beyond thought's bounding line, Lies pictured still as wishful hearts incline.

Thus ends our visit to what was once the grand earthly home and possessions of '_the extravagant Lord Cheney_'--one more strange, but not altogether uncommon phase of human life. How many of these historic apparitions have crossed the path of our desultory wanderings over the west-country, flashing like meteors through the gloom of the past, when summoned by the wizard hand of research, and as quickly fading and disappearing when its sympathetic power is withdrawn. In the glance of their happier, or more fortunate, transitory radiance, may shine the pre-eminent glory of the crown, the mild lustre of the mitre, the bold glow of the rod of office, or brilliant flash of the sword; yet thickly interspersed albeit with the lurid gleam of the axe, and perchance, as to-day, with the pitiful, hasty flicker of the spendthrift.

So do the glimpses of these noted actors on the passing stage of human existence, and the memories of their short but eventful careers, come back to us, with intensely interesting, because real power, alongside which the strongest flight of Romance is as a phantom. He who affects to contemn such investigations, and lives only in and for the present,--ignorant, careless, or indifferent as to the past, and bent on enjoying, as it is termed, the passing hour,--little wots of the care, the pain, and the strife, through which those who have gone before, have fought and toiled and suffered;--lives but half a life, in itself barren and ephemeral, as it is disassociated from all that has preceded it and built the foundations of that life up. Whether for good or for evil, matters not, the continuity of influence cannot be dissevered, for

"In to-day already walks to-morrow."

From Toddington and our musing over his collateral descendants, our story finally leads us back to the giant Knight himself, and the solemn grandeur of Salisbury Cathedral. We take a final look at the armoured form of this son of Anak, and as we glance at the lines of recumbent forms,--ecclesiastics,--statesmen,--soldiers, and others, that held high place during their lives in the government of their native land, for the five or six eventful centuries, in which, through much contention, that government was slowly determining and settling,--the thought arises, how comprehensively this grand building, as a sheep-fold, whose door is the Gate of Death, hath silently and surely gathered together here these erstwhile great ones of the earth at last,--even all sorts and conditions of men,--the consecrated, the peaceful, the devoted, rest side by side with the ambitious, the restless, the proud,--

"They live with God, their homes are dust; But here their children pray."

To the passing wayfarer the glowing desires and anxious longings, that animated their lives, are now well-nigh forgotten or unknown, and have vanished in the past as a tale that is told,--"in the sight of the unwise they seemed to die, but they are in peace," even the peace that passeth all understanding.

BOSWORTH FIELD.

But one chance left--'mid these misfortunes vast, Looming like avalanche upon their prey,-- "Treason!" he cried, "the White Rose die is cast," And like an unchained eagle spurred away,-- "The fiery Dragon to the heart I'll wound, And him that with it seeks to snatch my crown,-- Swift! follow me! see Brandon bites the ground, The giant Cheney from his horse is down,-- Fortune attend! my steed, a few strides more, And the Red Rose shall doubly-dyed appear-- Can I but reach him--steeped in its own gore, Or Death, come thou as foe I never fear,-- Traitors make way!"--but they in vengeful ring Closed, and 'neath blows relentless fell the King!

"WITH THE SILVER HAND."

A warm sunny morning in early May, and turning our steps from the thriving and somewhat busy town of Trowbridge,--a place which, like its quieter sister of Westbury, "stondith mostly by clothiers,"--its forest of smoking chimneys, garish town-hall, and tall spire,--our path inclines by the broad south-westerly road that leads to Frome and the parts adjacent. The walk is pleasant enough in its way, but without special incident to interest the wayfarer, beyond the ordinary pedestrian and vehicular motion of the hour.

In this direction we continue for about a mile and a half, and having passed through the village of Studley, halt at a stile or gateway on our left, and looking across a meadow of some extent, discern, environed by orchards, the grey outline of a building, having the unmistakable time-worn appearance of survival from a former age, albeit not of large size, and flanked with clustering outbuildings, that betoken its present inmate to be engaged in the great primeval occupation.

Instinctively--from a memory sympathetically stored--a reverie for the moment takes possession of the thoughts, as at the sight of the unpretending structure, a large picture passes rapidly before the mental eye, and with measured emphasis we observe,--a mother unknown,--a son the most famous,--their last descendant the most unfortunate!

Why--friend of mine--say you, do we propound this enigmatic commentary as we view the old place? Gives it short clue to characters, presumably, once connected with it, whose lives have embodied striking phases of human existence, which whet the imagination to contemplate, and to divine with all its subtle ingenuity, incidents conformable to animate them?

Listen. Yonder is Suthwyke;--there, back in the middle of the fourteenth century, a scion of the great family of Stafford of mediæval fame, found his way from the county that gave them their patronymic, and he, marrying the daughter of its then possessor, settled himself within it, and became its lord and master.

Around its grey walls, so retiring and unpretentious, cluster traditions of the first importance, that lead us out into the great field of national history. From the first of this knightly race that then dwelled therein, by a mother unknown,--who may have been the comely daughter of some villain residing near,--issued a son, who, despite all the contumely of his birth, won the mitre of the adjoining See, rose to the supreme station of being the custodian of the nation's purse, the keeper of the conscience of its reigning King, and finally sat on the archiepiscopal throne of the realm, when the Church was in her best estate. Of his grandson, styled of this place, who, deputed to maintain the royal prerogative against plebeian agression, fell fighting under the fierce onslaught of Wat Tyler in distant Kent. Again, of his son, who rising high in the favour of his Sovereign, was by him dignified with a patent of nobility named after his heritage in this rural spot, with honours further increased; but who, meanly swerving by ingratitude and petty dudgeon, in the first service imposed on him by the monarch who had so recently honoured him,--to the confusion of his royal patron,--was by the same kingly hand, as suddenly and ignominiously extinguished, and with him perished also the name and race of the family, of which he was its last representative.

So we deliver the solution to our parable, as we leisurely cross the broad meadow, but as we draw near the house, or Court as it is termed,--our foot is abruptly stayed by a comparatively invisible--until we are close on its edge--but decisive hindrance to nearer approach, and indicative at once of the olden character of the habitation, a deep and wide moat, still well supplied with water, that surrounds the area on which the house stands. But no mail-clad warrior, with glance of lance and pennon, salutes us, no wimpled lady passes like a shadow around the old gable corners,--all the signs of life visible are a bevy of ducks busily disporting themselves in the water below, and a group of calves on the opposite brink, thrusting their dappled faces through the bars of the fence, and calling lustily to their foster-mother, the dairy-maid, to bring them their accustomed meal.

A short distance below, a friendly stone bridge reveals itself, which spans the chasm, and leads to a building,--that probably still perpetuates in form and size the antient gate-house,--with a large semi-circular-arched, and somewhat ornamented doorway, ghost of the original portal, with its attendant portcullis and drawbridge.

We cross the bridge, but observe at a glance that it is doubtful if any traces of the dwelling of the Stafford dynasty, or their immediate successors, will be found in or upon it, and such proved to be the case. The building is of moderate size, bears the characteristics of having been erected early in the seventeenth century, and these distinguishing features, with the exception of the mullioned windows, a rather fine balustraded and newelled staircase, and the appearance of an old nail-studded door here and there,--have been nearly obliterated by adaptation to modern requirements. No dates were visible, two panels over the entrances may contain such, but they are carefully plastered over.

Suthwyck--Suthwyk--Southwyke, now modernized to Southwick Court, is apparently built on the antient site, and probably very nearly represents the original size of the building. A domestic chapel was attached to the little mansion. This was situate a short distance from it, on the other side of the moat; it now forms the corner of the farm court, and was converted, about the year 1839, into a stable. No trace of ecclesiastical use is found within it, but a few of the old roof-timbers are discernible; the piscina, windows, &c., being doubtless removed when it underwent the process of conversion.

"In Southwick, a tything of North-Bradley," says Canon Jackson,--

"two carucates of land belonged in 1274 to William de Greyville or Greynville, who held under the Abbess of Romsey. About 1294, his son Adam de Greynville, (there was a Justice in Eyre of his name in 1267) attached to his house at Southwick Court a Chapel dedicated to St. John the Baptist. By surrendering to the Rector of Bradley, (at that time the Prebendary of Edington) a ground called Alerleye, he obtained the right of presenting to his Chapel a chantry priest, who in acknowledgment of fealty, was to offer two pounds of wax in Bradley church, every year on the anniversary of the Nativity of St. John the Baptist. In 1369 the Bishop of Sarum (Robert de Wyvil) granted a license for Mass to be said in the private mansion house of Southwick. This chaplain in after times was always instituted to his office by the rectors of Edington Monastery, to whom the church of Bradley then belonged."

At the dissolution of Chantries in the reign of Henry VIII., Southwyke, Grenefreds (Grenvylles) Chantry, as it was called, was reported by the Commissioners "Baltazar Segytte, incumbent, with six pounds seven shillings a year. The plate weighed eight ounces one pennyweight, and the goods were valued at nine shillings, whilst eight and fourpence was allowed for a bell."

Suthwyke Court, and manor passed by successive heiresses through the families of Greynville, Stafford, Cheney, and Willoughby. About 1483, during a temporary forfeiture, it was given by Richard III. to his favourite Ratcliffe; it was however restored, and about 1520 sold by Robert, second Lord Willoughby de Broke to Sir David Owen, a supposed son of Owen Tudor, who in his will, dated 1529, mentions this Manor and Chantry. It was afterward disposed of in parcels, but the Court, by descent, is now held by the old Wiltshire family of Long of Rood-Ashton.

Of its former possessors, a few words.

Sir John Stafford, knt., of Amelcote and Bromshull, Staffordshire, who was living in 1361, married as his second wife the Lady Margaret, daughter of Sir Ralph Stafford, K.G., and one of the original founders of that Order, second Baron Stafford, and who was subsequently raised to the Earldom 5 March, 1351, and died in 1372; by his wife Margaret, only daughter and heiress of Hugh de Audley, Baron Audley.[30] He had issue by this marriage a son and heir named Humphrey.