liHi PHii mim-m i^m$i^ ftf» »fflaMi^»*w»,^ ;3: ^. 7^ I Oh¥^ C h idsf UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY Class ^l4-'2. BookH^^ Volume i'^i RAILROADIANA. A NEW HISTORY OF ENGLAND, PICTURESQUE, BIOGRAPHICAL, HISTORICAL, LEGENDARY AND ANTiaUARIAX SKETCHES. DESCRIPTIVE OF THE VICINITY OF THE RAILROADS, FIRST SERIES. WITH A MAP AND ILLUSTRATIONS. LONDONAND BIRMINGHAM RAILWAY. L OND ON: SIMPKIN, MARSHALL AND Co., STATIONERS' COURT. 1838. The person charging this material is re- sponsible for its return to the library from which it was withdrawn on or before the Latest Date stamped below. Theft, mutilation, and underlining of books are reasons for disciplinary action and may result in dismissal from the University. To renew call Telephone Center, 333-8400 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN & 1995 L161— O-1096 . INTRODUCTION. s( The experience of a recent excursion on th^Xondon and* Birmingham Railway, originally suggested the idea of collecting the information contained in the following pages. It was a fine ^» day in Autumn, and in the few hours between the arrival of the first and the departure of the last train, the writers sought to < make themselves acquainted with the scenery and history of ^ Tring. Notwithstanding it may be thought these could be -i"^ compressed within narrow limits, that time w^as consumed ni It seeking for preliminary information, which might have been '^ advantageously as well as agreeably employed in using it. The c^ moment came when they were obliged to enter the Railway auxilium, or lose the last conveyance, and they found them- selves tantalized with a know^ledge that they had been occupied in gazing on what least deserved attention, while objects of •2iK-k)06 IV INTRODUCTION. superior interest had escaped them. But the error thev deplored was not to be repaired. Relentless as old Time him- self, the driver takes his seat — the auxilium starts and the tourists return ungratified. To speak more seriously — the rapid communication, now effected by railways between places remote from each other, is working a mighty change in the relations of different parts of the Empire. The man of pleasure may find it an amusement to study these, but nevertheless a literary Railroad, to assist him in the task, will prove not less important than the iron one by which he passes over the ground. To supply such a desideratum ; to satisfy curiosity, and to spare the toil and irksomeness of hurried and wearying enquiries, is the object of this volume. It has been truly remarked by an author whose attention was early awakened to the consequences of the apphcation of steam to common road travelHng, that the " stations," as they are called, will always be fixed in the vicinity of some town of importance, many of which, thousands of the inhabitants of London have not had an opportunity of visiting, whilst, so far as the pleasure-taking portion of our population is concerned, one delightful and instructive consequence of the change, will be to make the Public acquainted with the beauties of their own SW^'WiSPx-- ">• . INTRODUCTION. V country — especially of its rural sections. These will now become objects of rational attraction. Individuals who seeking them, seek at the same time pleasure, information and health will feel that good service may be rendered by descriptions, narratives and facts, which enable them to decide for them- selves, at whatever place they may be, how their time can be most agreeably spent. Before entering upon our task, it may not be amiss to draw attention to the general features of the country intersected by this portion of the Birmingham line. We find in it three rivers, the Colne, the Gade, and the Bulbourne, all tributaries of the Thames, and although the eminences which enclose these streams are not of great elevation, nor the vales through which they glide sufficiently depressed to afford a decided character of picturesque and romantic beauty, yet there is enough of fine scenery to please and to gratify. Independently of the mere scenery, the vicinity of the capital, and the salubrity of the air — (attractions not generally neglected by the noble and the wealthy) contributed in former days to make this district a favourite resort — thus accounting for the growth of towns — multiplying estates in a manner unknown in the distant counties, and studding the country with the Castle, the Monastery, the VI INTRODUCTION. Manor-house or the Villa, in accordance with the wants and fashions of the times which called each into existence. If we could go back five or six centuries, we should view this country in a comparatively primitive condition. In later days the streams were made subservient to the purposes of manu- facture ; the water obeyed the will of man, and became a labourer. Then, as distant places grew into importance, and commerce with its spreading arms created new wants throughout the world, the Canal appeared and brought with it fresh sources of occupation and wealth ; increased the population of the towns and communicated the life of trade to the hitherto quiet valleys. — Lastly the Railroad has started into existence — and now spreads its giant length along these sequestered scenes, to the astonishment of the neltive population, and the joy of the inn-keepers in the immediate vicinity of the line. In leaving the Railroad itself to be described by others, we would remark that the particular point on which an individual may wish to finish his journey is now merely a matter of taste. The effort required to reach a place chstant a hundred miles, is little more than that which is required to reach one but a third of the distance. For instance — ** Shall we go to Berkhamsted INTRODUCTION. vii or Kenilworth ? " The former will cost us one hour and a half in journeying ; the latter something less than four hours ; fatigue being out of the question in either case, while the interval between the " out and home " trips aflrbrds sufficient leisure to inspect, in a single day, whatever is curious in the locality. Be it remembered that there is no walking the hills — no " pulhng up " to take a lunch, or a glass of ale, nor going slow to give the horses their wind. This system is hkely to be annihilated. We remember an old gentleman, introduced to the Public by the late Charles Mathews, who used to complain of the innovations of his day — "the taking away all our enjoyments" — and amongst the rest, the "removal of the stocks at Fulham!" However much we may cling to old fashions and old customs (and thefeehng it cannot be denied, is a very natural one), we have no doubt that this opening of a new era to " loco- motive " minds, wiU be hailed with satisfaction by the great body of the enhghtened British people, and it is not too much to hope that a pocket compass, like that now submitted, wiU be found desirable as a matter of entertainment, and valuable for its utility. A very celebrated novehst has spoken with some disrespect of those persons, who, in pursuit of knowledge or improvement. Viii INTRODUCTION. should consume their time in reading the volumes which cer- tain droll authors had facetiously called " The History of England/' He no doubt had in his mind the series of foohsh battles and absurd speeches, which it has been customary to intrude on the public under that title. Any thing like this history was not in his contemplation. The forgotten scenes now re-opened, and their associations, furnish novel matter to the readers of the present day. They furnish a " new history," and though in tracing matters which had been lost sight of, not always unknown, we cannot, in every instance, steer clear of the subjects of older writers ; care v^ill be taken that such details only shall be admitted, as are fit to be read and worthy to be remembered. In conclusion — we have only to add for the information of those who may be led to take an interest in the history of the remainder of the vicinity of this hne of Railway (to be published hereafter), that the whole distance from Birmingham to London being one hundred and twelve miles, and the present sketches extending only fifty -six miles, our labours are but half done. It will be an indulgence conceded to us if the reader applies this fact to the quantity and not to the quality of the present pubhcation. HARROW. x\n anecdote is related of "the Merry Monarch" Charles the Second, that a clerical dispute having taken place in his presence concerning the visible church upon earth, he face- tiously observed, that the only visible church then present to his " mind's eye," was the Church of Harrow on the Hill. This royal jeu de mot sufficiently explains that Harrow stands on high ground. It is in fact on the highest in the County of Middlesex — neither a small nor an unimportant section of the empire. The town " on the hill " now forms the most con- spicuous object in traveUing towards its vicinity, and to the first station on the London and Birmingham Railroad. It is a curious and pleasing exercise to trace the modern names of towns and places to their ancient origin — to mark either the legitimate or the arbitrary steps by which one has 10 HARROW. been substituted for another; and the wider the points of similarity between the mere spelUng or pronounciation of the ancient and modern, the more pleasing does this study become. Who would dream in the present day of asking to be directed to " Herga super Mont em " — " Harene alte Hulle "or " Herges,' ' — yet by all these names is Harrow known to history, and mentioned in ancient records. Commencing with the last, etymologists trace in it the Saxon name of the place — "Herges,'' itself being a corruption of the Saxon word " Herige," signifying a church. The two other ancient designa- tions are literally translated by its present name " Harrow on the Hill, " and we have only to add, that there are writers who give the word " //er^es " a signification meaning an army — or an encampment, derivations so different from each other that we can only hope to reconcile them by reference to the " Church Militant. " The nearest approximation to its present name, occurs in the records of the archbishops of Canterbury where the town is called " Harowes. " The Railroad having opened a new and easy means of com- munication with Harrow, bringing it within half an hour, instead of two hours, distance from the metropolis, we deem the place worthy of a chapter in these sketches, as one "which will be sought out and thronged with visitors in the Summer season. " The manor of Harrow belonged to the Church of Canterbury from the Saxon times, but being wrested from that church by Kenulf, King of Mercia, it was recovered by Archbishop HARROW. 11 Wilfrid in the year 822, since which it remained in that see, until Uenry VIII. exchanged it with Archbishop Cranmer for lands of equal value. It afterwards came into the family of Rushout, and the Manor-house is still possessed by the familv of Sir John Rushout, who has however rehnquished this residence for his seat at Northwich Park, ^Yorcestershire . Another manor in the parish is called Headstone, and a third Wembley, possessed by the family of Page since the year 1544, probably the only instance in Middlesex of a family being resident proprietors of a manor for nearly three centuries ! The "hill" is remarkable for its insulated and abrupt cha- racter. It suddenly emerges on all sides from the valley, and affords a variety of beautiful prospects. The view towards the East is terminated by the Metropohs and Hampstead — to the South by the Sun^ey Hills. It is least extensive towards the North, being intercepted by the high ground about Stan- more and Harrow- weald. On this side, the village of Stanmore and Bentley Prior\^ the seat of the Marquis of Abercorn, are the most conspicuous objects. Tlie view towards the West and South- West, which is very extensive, may be seen to greatest advantage from the church- yard. The more distant prospect, embraces Windsor Castle and a considerable tract of the Counties of Berks and Bucks. On the brow of the hill descending to Sudbury Common, is a small villa with a garden and shrubbery which commands nearly the same prospect, and on the summit of Sudbury Hill is a villa called the Hermitage, in which we may venture to guess no Hermit lives in the present day. Tlie manor-house and grounds called 12 HARROW. "Harrow Park" are situated on the old London end of the town. The building is in the style of James the First's time, and is at present occupied by one of the employes of the Grammar School. In the year 1170, Thomas-a-Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, spent several days at his manor-house of Harrow, when he was about to visit the heir apparent, Henry Plantagenet, son of Henry H., then at Woodstock. It is told of him, however, that he received a command from the king to desist from his journey and repair immediately to Canterbury — an order that, probably, emboldened two of his own clergy to treat him with great disrespect, for " they maimed the horse that carried his provisions. " It is but fair towards Becket to give the names of these " militant " priests, Rigellus de SackviUe and Robert de Broc, who were both, for this offence, publicly excommunicated at Canterbury on the Christmas day following. Becket did not long survive these events, for after having by the " mediacion of Alexander, Bishop of Rome and Levjys, the Frenche Kynge heene restored to his Bishoprike he was not long after, by Certaine gentilmen, slain. " * The Church is distinguished by a lofty and graceful spire covered with lead. The building dates from the time of the Norman Conquest, having been founded by Archbishop Lanfranc. The greater part of the ancient fabric still remains and forms a pleasing object for the antiquarian. The remain- der was built about the fourteenth centur}'. In the interior, the circular columns which divide the nave from the aisles, * Lanquette's Chronicle. HARROW. 13 are Saxon, as is also a part of the tower at the West end, where there is a Saxon arch remarkable in form. The roof is of the ever-enduring oak with carved ornaments, the brackets being supported by figures of the Apostles, precisely in the same style as the churches belonging to this diocese mentioned hereafter. The floor of the nave is rich in ancient monuments, with inscriptions and effigies in brass, for the most part in a state of mutilation, but still telling a tale of by- gone days and indicating the fashion, or monumental taste, of the four- teenth and fifteenth Centuries. On one of them we read : "Pttt tt&t$ 3IoIin 95pcfeT)etJ Hector of iparroiu tol^o Dien in 1418." His effig)^ is under a rich Gothic Canopy in his priest's habUi- ments. On Another. " WiillUm C£rig]()tman Hector toljo DieO 1519." In the chancel is a tomb to the memory of John Flambard, who died in the reign of Edward III. (between 1327 and 1377 ). The inscription is as follows : " 31on meo'o matmorc numtnig orDine jFIam '^Tum ij lat ISartie quoque berbc 0ttgi?! e funcrc !jic tucatur." John Lyon, died in the year 1592, and was buried in the nave. The Gerards, two of the original governors of the school, have mural monuments of the dates 1584 and 1609. The church- yard is interesting, if it were only for the mul- titude of inscriptions, chiefly painted on wood, which it contains. There is a cause for every eflfect, and we imagine this efi'ect to be produced alone by the ea:tent of the parish of Harrow, 14 HARROW. although there may be something in the desire amongst re- latives, that those who have parted from them should lay •' high and dry. " We do not express this sentiment in*eve- rently. Every one who has lost dear friends knows how strong is the wish for depositing them in a " comfortable grave." The lion of Harrow is, however, the Free Grammar School, founded by John Lyon a fanner of the Parish, who had shewn a taste for " teaching the young idea how to shoot," long before he made the magnificent bequest which has immortal- ized his name. The date of the foundation is 1571. The estates given for its support have greatly increased in value of late years, and we find, that in 1 809 some Parishioners of Harrow, imagining they did not receive a due share of the benefits of the School, made an application to the Court of Chancery, which in 1810, was heard in the RoUs Court, when judgment was pronounced in favour of the Seminary, as at present constituted. Amongst the phalanx of noble individuals who have received their education at this School, the most conspicuous, but more on account of his talents than his virtues, stands the name of Byron. He appears nevertheless in those days to have been a tolerably "good boy. " Moore says, "notwithstanding his general habits of play and idleness, which might seem to in- dicate a total absence of reflection and feeling, there were moments when the youthful poet would retire thoughtfully within himself, and give way to moods of musing, uncongenial HARROW. 15 with the usual cheerfulness of his age. A grave is shewn in the church- yard, which was so well known to be his favourite resting place, that the boys called it ' Byron's Tomb, ' and here, they say, he used to sit for hours wrapped in thought, brooding over the first stirrings of passion and genius in his soul, and occasionally perhaps, indulging in those bright fore- thoughts of fame, under the influence of which, when no more than fifteen years of age, he wi'ote these remarkable lines : — *' My epitaph shall be my name alone ; If that with honor fail to crown my clay, Oh, may no other fame my deeds repay ; That, only that, shall single out the spot, By that remembered, or with that forgot." On the eastern side of the church-yard there is an inscription on wood to the memory of one " Isaac Greentree," upon which, as the on dit goes, Byron wrote in pencil two lines of punning poetry. We are quite ^vnlling that he should have the credit of the authorship, — the sentiment contained in them, being in favour of the writer, whatever his name. The spot in question is overshadowed with Umes ; — " There is a time when these green trees shall fall, And Isaac Greentree rise above them all." The original school-room, preserved with one exception, as erected in the time of the founder, is lined with oak pannels. The desks, forms, doors and floor, are of the same material, apparently of the same date. The whole is so covered with n 16 HARROW. cuts and carvings of names, &c. that scarcely a spot remains free from an inscription. It would require a catalogue nearly equal to the hst of the constituency of one of the Metropohtan Boroughs, to give the mere initials. We have selected one name, that of Byron, and present it to our readers* in the form of difac simile in size and shape. We should say it was cha- racteristic of the bold, deviating turn of the individual, who it is undoubted, carved it with his own hand. There are none of the usual rules of forming letters attended to in the " y " or the " r. " Sir Robert Peel on the contrary, has " done " his name in a high capital text, of which a copy might be made for type. Close to the name of the noble " Childe, " appears that of Col. Wildman, the gentleman who was destined to succeed him as the possessor of Newstead Abbey, his paternal residence. By the name of Su* Robert Peel, that of his son is seen. Many individuals of high celebrity have thus recorded their education at Harrow. Among them, Richard Brinsley Sheridan, the unfortunate Spencer Percival, and the present Lord Palmerston mav be mentioned. The school-house is built of brick, and stands on the same eminence as the church, and is contiguous to the church-yard. It is not remarkable for external beauty, and we regret to say that the western end has been modernized for the sake of pro- ducing uniformit}^ with the new building for examinations, which adjoins it. That identity, which in the school apartment was so vigilantly guarded, has thus been sacrificed. The * See Engraving. I of the School-room at Facsimile of Btkon's name, cut by himselfin the Oak pannelof the School-room at Harrow on the Hill. HARROW. 17 •' speech room " (as it is called) contains two good pictures — Moses and Aaron before Pharoah, painted by West, 1796 : and the Catahne Conspiracy, presented by Lord Northwick. There are Coats of Arms in the windows in stained glass, of Masters, Governors and Benefactors to the school, who have been edu- cated at HaiTow. It appears that Lyon took especial pains to lay down rules for the conduct of the scholars, both in and out of doors. Their amusements w^ere only to consist of " driving a top, tossing a hand-hall, running and shooting. " The Harrow boys> now-a-days, amongst their rudiments of learning, class throwing of stones, demolishing windows and so forth ; but the former of the two, appears their favorite and constant amusement — even the tombs in the church-yard, which have inscriptions in marble, are shielded from their attacks by iron gratings, and all the windows of the school are protected from injur}', by the equally effectual means of wire guards. It was at Harrow that Anthony Babington, the hero or chief of " the Babington plot " in the reign of Queen Ehzabeth, was secm-ed. "\ATien the practices in which he had engaged were discovered, the unfortunate man fled to escape punishment, and in order to disguise himself effectually, stained his face with the juice of green walnuts, through which precaution, he hoped to elude his pursuers in the retired neighbourhood of Harrow, where he took refuge in the house of one Bellamy. After enduring much distress, his retreat was found out and he was carried to London. 18 HARROW. The crime laid to his charge was, that he had conspired •with one Savage, a soldier of most daring and desperate cha- racter, to assassinate Queen Elizabeth, liberate Mary, Queen of Scots, then a prisoner, and recognise her as Queen of Eng- land, Savage had engaged in concert with a Dr. GiiFord to waylay Elizabeth, and stab her with a dagger as she passed to her chapel, or when she might be walking to take the air. Babington whose zeal as a Catholic, led him to approve of any act, which had for its object the removal of a Protestant Sove- reign, and the securing the ascendancy of his religion, was unwilling that so impoitant a part of the conspiracy, as the murder of the Queen, should be left to a single hand, and desired that six persons should be associated in the deed. — • Savage complained that he should be denied the distinction of committing the murder alone, as originally proposed; but, even- tually fell in with the arrangement of Babington. The ever vigilant ministers of Elizabeth, soon discovered that a plot existed, and as not unfrequently happens in cases of treason, the ringleaders turned traitors to their accompUces. Dr. Gifford made Walsingham acquainted with all that was passing. He seduced Babington to correspond Avith Mary, and the letters that passed were laid before the Government. At first, Babington and his friends doubted Gifford, and gave him letters to the Queen of Scots, or rather papers folded up as such, in which nothing whatever was written. Paulet, who had Mary in charge, contrived that the letters of Babington should be forwarded by a brewer who supphed the family with HARROW. 19 ale"; she received them through a chink in the wall, and answers were returned to them in the same way. The communications thus obtained from Marv, satisfied Babington, that Gifford might be relied upon, and he now fully unbosomed himself to the Queen, who, in her letters, entirely approved of the desperate measures which he suggested, by which Elizabeth was to be deprived of hfe, and a revolution effected, both in politics and religion. But circumstances soon transpired, which proved to the conspirators that they were betrayed, and that all their designs were known to the Government. Then it was, that the guilty parties fled, and sought to save their lives by disguises, and in concealment. As already stated, Babington was seized at Harrow, in the house of a person described to be "a gloomy Papist," of the name of Jerome Bellamy. The latter, wdth Babington and other conspirators, were committed to the keeping of the Lieu- tenant of the Tower, and brought to trial at Westminster on the 13th of September, 1586, under a commission of Oyer and Determiner, addressed among others to Sir Francis Walsing- ham : Sir Christopher Hatton : Sir Christopher Wray, Lord Chief Justice of England : Sir Edmund Anderson, Lord Chief Justice of the Common Pleas : and Sir Roger Manwood, Lord Chief Baron of the Exchequer. Thomas Savage pleaded guilty, but evidence was, nevertheless, given to support the indict- ment. This took place on the 13th of September, and on the following day the prisoners were again put to the bar. A brief 20 HARROW. specimen of the proceedings, as they appeared on the state trial, may not here be out of its place. Sandes. — fClerk to the Crown.J How sayest thou John Ballard, art thou Guilty of these treasons whereof thou standest indicted, or not ? Ballard. — That I practised the dehvery of the queen of Scots, I am Guilty ; and that I went about to alter the Religion, I am Guilty ; but that I intended to slay her majesty, I am not Guilty. Sandes. — Answer directly, art thou Guilty according to the purport of the Indictment ? Ballard. — I answer as mv case is. Chief Justice Anderson. — Either deny the Indictment gene- rally, or confess it generally. Hatton. — Ballard, under thy own hand are all things con- fessed ; therefore now it is much vanity, to stand vain- gloriously in denying it. Ballard. — Then, Sir, I confess I am Guilty. Sandes. — How sayest thou Anthony Babington, art thou Guilty of the treason contained in the Indictment } Then began Babington with a mild countenance, a sober gesture, and a wonderful good grace, to declare the beginnings and proceedings of his treasons, which was according to Savage's confession and Ballard's Indictment. In the end he laid all the blame upon BaUard for bringing him to his destruction. Hatton. — A very fit author for so bad a fact I Babington. — Very true, Sir, for from so bad a gi'ound must HARROW. 21 proceed many bitter fruits ; it was he that persuaded me to kill the queen, and commit the other treasons, whereof now I confess myself Guilty. After some other proceedings of a formal character, on the second day, the 14th of September, the awful scene was brought to a close. The celebrated Sir Christopher Hatton, seems to have been more excited than any of his brother com- missioners on the occasion. Sandes. — John Ballard, thou hast been indicted of high- treason, and thereupon arraigned, and hast pleaded Guilty ; what hast thou to say for thyself, wherefore judgment and execution of death should not be given against thee .'' Ballard, — spake something but not to any effect. Sandes, — demanded of Babington in like manner. Bahington, — who said he was Guilty of the treasons, accord- ing to his confession, for intending the killing of the queen, and the rest by Ballard's persuasion. Upon this Sir Christopher Hatton exclaimed : — " O, Ballard, Ballard, what hast thou done ? A host of brave youths, other- wise endued with good gifts, by thy inducement hast thou brought to their utter destruction and confusion." Bahington. — Yea, I protest before I met with this BaUard, I never meant nor intended for to kill the queen ; but by his persuasion I was induced to believe that she was excommu- nicated, and therefore it was lawful to murder her. Ballard. — Yea, Mr. Babington, lay all the blame upon me. 22 HARROW. but I wish the shedding of my blood might be the saving of your life : howbeit, say what you will, I will say no more. Hatton. — Nay, Ballard, you must say more, and shall say more, for you must not commit high-treasons and then huddle them up ; but is this thy Religio Catholica ? Nay, rather, it is Diaholica. Sandes. — John Savage, thou hast been indicted of high- treason, &c. (m^ 5Mj!7. to Ballard). Savage answered nothing, neither did Titchburne, being demanded in like sort also. So Sandes demanded of Robert Barnewell in hke manner. Barnewell. — For as much as I have offended against the law, I am contented to suffer punishment according to the law; howbeit, I here protest what I have done, was only for my conscience sake, neither did I ever intend violence to her ma- jesty's person. Hatton. — Oh ! Barnewell, Barnewell, didst not thou come to Richmond, and when her majesty walked abroad, didst not thou there view her and all her company, what weapons they had, how she walked alone .'' And didst traverse the ground, and thereupon coming back to London, didst make relation to Babington, how it was a most easy matter to kill her majesty, and what thou hadst seen and done at the court ? Yes, I know thou didst so : how canst thou then say, that thou never didst intend to lay violent hands on her majesty ? Nay, I can assure thee, moreover, and it is most true which I say, that her majesty did know that thou didst come to that end, and she did see HARROW. 23 and mark thee how thou didst view her and her company ; but had it been known to some there, as well as unto her, thou hadst never brought news to Babington. Such is the mag- nanimity of our sovereign, which God grant be not over much in not fearing such traitors as thou art. Barnewell. — What I did was only for my conscience sake, and not for any malice, or hatred to her majesty's person. Hatton. — Then would'st thou have killed the queen for con- science ? Fie on such a conscience. Execution soon followed. Too well did the unhappy Babing- ton then feel, how woefully he had been misled, when he ven- tured to stake his ample fortune, and all the comforts which a position so favourable naturally commanded, and life itself, on a vain attempt to murder his sovereign, and restore the supre- macy of the Pope in England. He endeavoured to move Eliza- beth to spare him, but without success. The manner of his appeal to his intended victim may be read with some interest, and as it is not preserved with the circumstances of the final ' scene, in the modem histories of England, we transcribe them from the ancient chronicles : — Mr. Babington s Letter to the Queen, after his condemnation, sent from the Tower, and delivered by his wife. " Most Gracious Sovereign. — If either bitter tears, a pen- sive, contrite heart, and doleful sighs of a wretched sinner, might work any pity in your royal breast, I would wring out from my drained eyes as much blood as in bewraying my — dryery 24 HARROW. — tragedy, should lament my faU, and somewhat, no doubt, move you to compassion ; but since there is no proportion between the quality of my crime and any humane consideration, show, sweet queen, some miracle on a wretch that lieth prostrate in your prison, most grievously bewaihng his offence, and im- ploring such comfort at your anointed hands, as my poor wife's misfortune doth beg, my child's innocency doth crave, mv guiltless family doth wish, my heinous treachery least deserve. So shall your divine mercy make your glory shine far above all princes, as my most horrible practices are most detestable amongst your best subjects, with whom that you may long live and happily govern, I beseech the Mercy-master to grant, for his sweet Son's sake, Jesus Christ. Your majesty's unfor- tunate, because disloyal, subject, " Anthony Babington.'* The unhappy man seems to have had some hope of saving his life by the fulness of his confession. Afterwards, on the trial of Mary, Queen of Scots, copies of the con-espondence which had passed between them, were produced as evidence against her, the correctness of which Babington had certified by signing every page with his own hand. In doing this, we are told, " he was so circumspect and careful, that finding two or three words mistaken in the writing of the copy, he struck out the same, before he did subscribe it." On the 20th of the same month, John Ballard, Anthony Ba- bington, John Savage, Robert Barnewell, Chidiock Titchbume, HARROW. 25 Charles Tilney and Edward Arlington, were drawn on hurdles from the Tower, to their execution to St. Giles's fields, being the place where they used to meet, where was erected a scaffold, and thereupon a gallows. " John Ballard, the priest, the principal conspirator, confessed, that he was guilty of those things for which he was condemned, but protested they were never enterprised by him upon any hope of preferment, but only, as he said, for the advancement of true religion. He craved pardon and forgiveness of all per- sons, to whom his doings had been any scandal, and so made an end ; making his prayers to himself in Latin, not askhag her majesty forgiveness, otherwise than * if he had offended.' "Anthony Babington also confessed, that he was come to die as he had deserved ; howbeit he (as Ballard before) protested, that he was not led into those actions upon hope of preferment or for any temporal respect ; nor had ever attempted them, but that he was persuaded by reasons alleged to this effect, that it was a deed lawful and meritorious. He craved forgiveness of all whom he had any way offended ; he would gladly also have been resolved whether his lands should have been confiscate to her majesty, or whether they should descend to his brother ; but howsoever, his request was to the lords, and others the commissioners there present, that consideration might be had of one, whose money he had received for lands which he had passed no fine for, for which the conveyance was void in law. He requested also, that consideration might be had of a certain servant of his, whom he had sent for certain merchandise into 26 HARROW. the East countries, who by his means was greatly impoverished. For his wife he said, she had good friends, to whose considera- tion he would leave her. And thus he finished, asking her majesty forgiveness, and making his prayers in Latin. " John Savage confessed his guilt, and said (as the other two before) that he did attempt it, for that in conscience he thought it a deed meritorious and common good to the weal pubhc, and for no private preferment. " The other culprits made similar confessions. Titchbume would seem to have been the paiiner, or in some way inti- mately connected with Babington, for in his speech on the scaffold, he uses these remarkable words. * Before this thing chanced, we lived together in most flourishing estate ; of whom went report in the Strand, Fleet Street, and elsewhere about London, but of Babington and Titchburne ? No threshold was of force to brave our entry. There we lived and wanted no- thing we could wish for.' " " BaUard," the narrative proceeds, "was first executed. He was cut down and bowelled with great cruelty while he was ahve. Babington beheld Ballard's execution without being in the least daunted, while the rest turned away their faces, and fell to prayers upon their knees. Babington being taken down from the gallows alive too, and ready to be cut up, he cried aloud several times in Latin, * Parce mihi Domine Jesu ! ' Spare me, O Lord Jesus. Savage broke the rope and fell down from the gallows, and was presently seized by the executioners and em- bowelled." The other parts of the shocking sentence then HARROW. 27 pronounced against traitors, (which cannot now be even des- cribed without offending decorum,) were carried into full effect. On the following day, seven more, the associates of those above named, expiated their crime in the same way, save that the queen having heard of the horrors witnessed, when the last sufferers were embowelled alive, ordered that those who were immediately to foUow them, should not be taken down from the- gaUows till they were quite dead. The following documents written by one of the sufferers on this melancholy occasion, have been preserved by Mr. D'Israeli in his " Curiosities of Literature." " A letter written by Chidiock Titchhurne the night before he suffered death, unto his wife, dated Anno 1586. " To THE MOST LOVING WIFE ALIVE, — I commcud me unto her, and desire God to bless her with all happiness, pray for her dead husband, and be of good comforte ; for I hope in Jesus Christ this morning to see the face of my Maker and Re- deemer in the most joyful throne of his glorious kingdome. Commend me to aU my friends, and desire them to pray for me, and in all charitie to pardon me, if I have offended them. Commend me to my six sisters poore desolate soules, advise them to serve God, for vdthout him, no goodness is to be ex- pected : were it possible, my httle sister Babb, the darlinge of my race might be bred by her, God would rewarde her; but I do her wrong I confesse, that hath by my desolate negligence too little for herselfe, to add a further charge unto her. Deere 28 HARROW. wife, forgive me, that have by these means so much impover-> ished her fortunes ; patience and pardon good wife I crave, make of these, our necessities, a virtue, and lay no further burthen on my neck than hath alreadie been. There be certain debts that I owe, and because I know not the order of the lawe, piteous it hath taken from me all, forfeited by my course of offence to her majestic, I cannot advise thee to benefit me herein, but if there fall out wherewithaU, let them be discharged for God's sake. I will not that you trouble yourself e with the performance of these matters, my own heart, but make it known to my uncles, and desire them, for the honour of God and ease of their soule, to take care of them as they may, and especially care of my sister's bringing up, the burthen is now laide on them. Now, Sweet-cheek, what is left to bestow on thee a small joynture, or small recompense for thy deservinge, these legacies following to be tliine owne. " God of his infinite goodness give thee grace alwaies to re- main his true and faithfull servant, that through the merits of his bitter and blessed passion thou maist become in good time of his kingdom with the blessed women in Heaven. May the Holy Ghost comfort thee with all necessaries for the wealth of thy soul in the world to come, where untill it shall please Almighty God I meete thee, farewell lovinge wife, farewell the dearest to me on all the earth, farewell ! " By the hand from the heart of thy most faitliful louvinge husband, " Chidiock Titchburne." HARROW. 29 "VERSES, " Made by Chidiock Titchburne of himself e in the Tower, the night before he suffered death. " My prime of youth is but a frost of cares, My feast of joy is but a dish of pain, My crop of com is but a field of tares, And all my goodes is but vain hope of gain. The day is fled, and yet I saw no sun. And now I live, and now my life is done. " My spring is past, and yet it hath not sprung. The fruit is dead, and yet the leaves are green, My youth is past, and yet I am but young, I saw the world, and yet I was not seen ; My thread is cut, and yet, it is not spun And now I live, and now my life is done ! " I sought for death, and found it in the wombe, I look'd for life and yet it was a shade, I trodethe ground, and knew it was my tombe. And now I dye, and now I am but made. The glass is full, and yet my glass is run ; And now I live, and now my life is done. *' 30 WATFORD. The primary object in the application of steam to Railroad travelling, being the economizing of time, the inhabitants of Wat- ford cannot be congratulated on enjoying the advantages of the discovery to its fullest extent, for the '"line" here, after inter- secting the houses at the eastern end of the town, proceeds onwards for nearly two miles, before it reaches the Watford " station," which is at a point where the western extremity of the town is one mile distant. Without dwelling on the causes which have rendered it expedient to fix the resting-place here, we may remark that it has afibrded an opportunity to compare Railway with Omnibus speed, and to call into action the rivalry of inn- keepers, and accordingly a choice of vehicles, from the " Essex Arms " and the " Rose and Crown" is ofi^ered to carry passengers into the town. This journey of a mile is not un- interesting. There is a small portion of the high road from WATFORD. 31 Watford to St. Alban's (which crosses the Railway) leading South, lined with elms, at the end of which, turning East, hes the town, ranging on both sides of the road for about a mile in length. It has an ancient aspect, and we find that as part of Cashio Hundred, it was given by the Saxon king OfFa to the Abbey of St. Alban's, and that its market on Tuesday was the gift of Henry I. Subsequently, James I. granted the town to Lord Ellesmere, in whose possession, as weU as of his descend- ants, it continued, until the late Duke of Bridge water, in 1760, sold it to the Earl of Essex, in whose family it stUl remains. The river Colne, after uniting all the streams of the western parts of the county of Hertford, crosses the town, and beau- tifies the vicinity by its serpentine windings. It has its rise in Middlesex, receives the Meuse or Verulam river at Colney- street, then flows by Watford to Rickmansworth, below which town, having received the " Gade " from Hemel Hempstead, it leaves the county, and becomes the limit between Middlesex and Buckingham to Colnbrook, and finally passes to the Thames. The objects of most interest to the traveller in this vicinity, we deem to be the Church, Cashiobury Park the seat of the Earl of Essex, and the village of Bushy, and shall proceed to describe them in the same order as here mentioned. The Church stands in the centre of the town, and is dedicated to the Virgin Mary. It is a large structure of stone, which has been 32 WATFORD. disfigured with a mask of modern plaster, and has a square tower ninety feet high, surmounted by an hexagonal spire. In the tower are eight bells and chimes. The building is irregular in form, although the additions which make it so are not modern. On the left hand side of the chancel is a large chapel called the " Tomb House," being the cemetery of the Essex family, and containing a congregation of tombs altogether of the higher class of art. We could not discover one of earher date than the year 1587, which is "to the memory of Elizabeth, daughter of the illustrious Arthur Capel," There is a slab in brass which perpetuates the names of l^enrg ©icfeon^j died 1610. ©corgc filler, — 1613. Sntl^onp Cooper, late servants to Sir Charles Morrisson, Knight, who hved in his family forty years, and "in memorie of them Dorothea la Morrisson vouchsafed the stone and inscription." The last of the three, as the date of his exit is not given, was probably still ahve when the stone was " vouchsafed," and may have subsequently died at some distant place, and thus lost the honour intended to his remains. A simple tablet, in the form of a shield, is equally worthy of notice, for its brief inscription to the memory of 2d three ^rls.-In Alububy Church, Hbbtfordshirk WATFORD. 66 HARRIET, WIFE OF RICHARD FORD, BORN, JULY 19, I8O7, DIED, MAY 14, 1837* QUE SERA SERA. The roof of this chapel is hung with a profusion of banners, some of them much decayed, and there is also suspended an iron helmet and gloves of some noble of the olden time. The pew of the Earl of Essex is spacious, and is entered from the cemetery. We need not here inform many of our readers, that the present Earl of Essex has already attained the age of eighty, and the countess (who is also living) nearly seventy-eight. They have been married upwards of fifty years, but, we beheve, have of late lived separate. It appears that the Earl, who for- merly took a lively interest in matters connected with the stage, has not yet relinquished his taste for theatricals. A once celebrated singer being a frequent visitor at Cashiobury Park, where she remained during four months of last summer. There is an inscription in the chapel to an illegitimate daughter of the Earl, who died in the present year at the age of twenty-nine. Cashiobury Park is said to have been the residence of Mer- cian kings during the Saxon heptarchy, until OfFa gave it to the monastery of St. Alban's. After the Dissolution, it was granted by Henry VIII. to Richard Moryson, Esq., with the same privileges enjoyed by the abbots. This gentleman held 34 WATFORD. several important employments under Henry and his successor, and was his ambassador to the emperor Charles V. Mr. Mory- son began to rebuild the fabric, which was finished by his son and heir. Sir Charles Moryson, who died in 1599, part of which remains. His son. Sir Charles Moryson, was created a baronet in 1611, and Knight of the Bath, at the coronation of Charles I. He married Mary, second daughter of Baptist Hicks, Viscount Campden, and left an only daughter, EHzabeth, married to Arthur, Lord Capel (a descendant of Sir William Capel, lord mayor of London, 1503) who was inhumanly beheaded during the civil wars. The son of this nobleman, Arthur, Earl of Essex, in 1670, was sent ambassador to Denmark, where he bravely supported the honour of his country, and refused to lower the colours, although the small vessel in which he sailed was fired on by the governor of Croninberg castle, for which the governor was afterwards compelled to beg pardon on his knees. George, Earl of Essex, the present possessor of Cashio- bury, assumed the name of Coningsby, on succeeding to the estates of his grandmother, Frances, daughter of Thomas, Earl Coningsby, of Hampton Court, Herefordshire. The seat is elegant, and the situation the best in the county, upon a dry spot, within a park of large extent. The noble beeches for which it is remarkable, are arranged in clumps of five and six, and between each clump are many fine specimens of the ** hrave old oak, — " " Who stands in his pride alone," WATFORD. 35 and cedars of Lebanon, which ** with fair branches, and with a shadowy shroud, and of an high stature, had their tops among the thick boughs."* In front of the house is a fine dry lawn, which, as a consequence of its mossy character, may be rode or walked upon after a heavy rain as on the driest downs. A little below the house, the river Colne winds through the park, and contributes by its pure waters, and their never-ceasing flow, to the embellishment of the woodland scenery. The present noble trees were planted by Le Notre, in the reign of Charles II. On the opposite side of the river the ground rises to a considerable height, afibrding the eye an agreeable variety. The Grand Junction Canal also traverses the park, and adds to the diversity of its scenery. The House is spacious and pleasantly situated, and its present owner has restored, the cloisters of the ancient abbey, and embellished them with windows of stained glass, the effect of which is to maintain the character of the mansion — the glass being antique and the subjects represented chiefly scriptural. Strangers are permitted to see all the rooms on the ground floor. A very respectable and well-informed house-keeper points out what is most remarkable, and performs her part with * Ezekiel, Chap, xxxi, ver. 3. 36 WATFORD. great correctness. His lordship, it is stated, has been very anxious in this respect, and has desired that care should be taken to guard against any mis -representation being made on the subject of the treasures of art or vertu which his mansion contains. In the first apartment to which the visitor is admitted, there are many objects of great interest. ITie portrait of Sir Thomas Coningsby, on the right, is among the first to which attention is called. He appears to have ^een of noble stature, and is attended by his dwarf ser\'ant, a man whose head reaches but little above his master's knee. Sir Thomas had one leg shorter than the other, and the means he took to diminish the incon- venience thence arising, are not a little remarkable, as we are told a favourite dog was trained to be constantly at his master's heels, and to present himself that Su' Thomas might place his foot on him as often as th^ baronet stopped. Had Richard the Third been subject to a similar defect, and reheved himself from it in this manner, the commentators on Shakspeare would have connected with the fact his exclamation, " The dogs bark at me as I halt by them \" In the picture, the dog (a small spaniel), is seen performing his duty as if well pleased with the .distinction conferred upon him by his master, who does not press very heavily on his living foot- stool. WATFORD. 37 At the further extremity of the cloister is a very old painting, the only original portrait extant of king Henry the Fourth. The countenance is noble and expressive, but not severe. The colours are still good. At the top of the frame are the words " Henricus IV." and below is the following curious antiquarian narrative : — " Henry the IV. king of England who lay'd the first stone of this house,* and left this picture in it when he gave it to Lentall, who sold it to Cornwall of Burford, who sold it to the ancestors of the Lord Coningesby, in the reign of Henry VI." When, or how the picture was removed from Hampton Court in Herefordshire, the place in which it is stated to have been left by the kingly subject of it, to its next abode, or to its present situation, is not mentioned. Tlie next- room to which the stranger is admitted, is the dining-room, an apartment of lofty and commodious dimen- sions. It commands a fine \-iew of the rising grounds of the park. Splendid cabinetfe and many fine paintings, among them portraits of the present Earl and Countess, when in the bloom of life, are here displayed. But in a small adjoining apart- ment, some rehcs will be found, which the lover of historical curiosities would not willingly overlook. Of these, two are connected with the death of king Charles the First. They are in distinct frames, and accompanied by the subjoined inscrip- tion : — * Of Hampton Court. Herefordshire. 38 WATFORD. ' ' The upper frame contains a piece of the velvet pall which covered the coffin of the king* when the same was discovered at Windsor, A. D. 1813, and the lower a piece of the ribbon of the Order of the Garter worn by King Charles I. when he was beheaded." From this we collect what we do not remember to have been mentioned in history, that even in the last sad moment when he was to lay his head upon the block, Charles wore about his person some of the ornaments which had adorned it in his happier days. His " George" he gave to Bishop Juxon, butto whom the ribbon, of which a portion is here preserved, passed at the time, has never been stated. Near the above is another object of some interest. A small cabinet is opened and part of a cambric handkerchief dingy in colour appears. We read below, " In this Cabinet is preserved the handkerchief which Lord Coningsby placed on the wound King William received on his shoulder, at the battle of the Bo}Tie, and is stained with his blood, 1690." On looking closely at it, the stains mentioned in the inscription may be discerned, though their original colour here is faded and has resolved itself into a faint yellow. Above is a painting representing the scene in which the handkerchief was used in the manner described. Coningsby appears all anxiety to relieve his Sovereign, and William accepts his loyal services with dignified composure. The likenesses of both are authentic. WATFORD. 39 A most elegant drawing-room is the next apartment thrown open to the visitor. In addition to its beautiful and appropriate furniture, we find here a series of fine paintings by Sir Peter Lely and by eminent modern artists. Among them is one very delightful painting of the present Earl when ten years of age, and his sister who was tliree yeai's older than himself. The portrait of the latter, is that of a singularly beautiful girl, who then gave fair promise of those charms wliich subsequently distinguished her in the meridian of life. She died a few years ago at the age of fourscore. The fashionable world may vet preserve some recollection of the once lovely Lady Monson. Tlie library contains some fine paintings, and among them will be found admirable hkenesses of H. Wallack, and W. Farren as Adam Brock and Charles XII. There is also an original Mor- land, and an exquisite efibrt of a modern artist which gives to miniature-painting aU the force, roundness and effect of carved ivorv. 40 BUSHY. From Watford a pleasant walk of a mile on the London road, leads to this village, nearly adjoining which is Bushy Heath ex- tending towards Stanmore. The Heath is remarkable for its high situation, being the most elevated ground in the County, and the view fi'om it embraces an horizon of considerable ex- tent on all sides ; Westminster Abbey, Hampton Court, Windsor and the Thames winding through the most beautiful parts of Middlesex and Surrey, being distinctly visible from it. Those who from want of time, or inclination, can only visit the village, may enjoy the cliief features of the view from the heath, by ascending the tower of the Church. The situation of several other places ; for instance, Rickmansworth, is marked by the smoke, that unfailing indication of an English town, hovering over the spot. On the north, St. Alban's Abbey, the giant of BUSHY. 41 the landscape, rises above every other object. On the north- east. Hill Field Lodge, the seat of Captain Timmins ; on the south-east, the village of Clay; and on the north-west, the town of Watford, and a considerable portion of the line and embankments of the Rail-road. A landscape more of the cha- racter of an immense and well-cultivated garden is seldom to be seen. The history of the small village of Bushy is not uninteresting* Its first Norman possessor, Geoffiry de Mandeville, for having incurred the Pope's displeasure was suspended in lead on a tree in the Temple, christian burial not being allowed to any person under such circumstances. Others of its possessors were equally unfortunate. Edmond of Woodstock was beheaded through the vile machinations of Queen Isabella and her para- mour Mortimer, on a suspicion of intending to restore his brother Edward II. to the throne, and so much was he beloved by the people, and his persecutors detested, that he stood from one to five in the afternoon, before an executioner could be procured, and then an outlaw from the Marshalsea performed the hateful task. Tliomas, Duke of Surrey, was beheaded at Cirencester, in rebeUion against Henry IV. Thomas de Mon- tacute. Earl of SeJisbuiy, after obtaining the highest honours in the campaigns in France with Henry V., was kiUed by the splinter of a window-frame driven into his face by a cannon bail at the siege of Orleans. Richard the stout Earl of Wanvick, another possessor, was killed at Bamet. George, Duke of E 2 42 BUSHY. Clarence, was drowned in a butt of Malmsey. Richard III. was the next possessor. Lady Margaret de la Pole, countess of Suffolk, was beheaded at the age of seventy-two by the cruel pohcy of Heniy VIII. in revenge for a supposed affront by her son to 'the cardinal. In this parish also, lived Titus Silas, who, in a pamphlet entitled " Killing no Murder," to dehver En- gland from its yoke, ad\'ised Cromwell to commit suicide ; he gained promotion in the reign of Charles II., and by his buffoonery, induced that monarch to disgrace the great lord chancellor Clarendon. The church is a small venerable edifice. On making some repairs or alterations a few years ago an inscription was dis- covered which stated it to have been " built in the year 1006." The inscription in question has been transferred to an iron plate affixed to the wall of the western end of the church. On a slab in the aisle to the memory of two Bakewells, one of whom died in the year 1643, is the following quaint epi- gram, a good specimen of those in which our ancestors indulged on such solemn occasions — " l|)cregi ttuo m cne ano pet not ttao lut one, ^too gionnesi, one tom!i, tino Tjetr^, one name alone." The present Br. Lushington, whose seat is in the vicinity, fre- quently attends the church. His lady, who died recently, lies buried in the family vault in the chancel. Such is the want of room in the church, that it is literally " all pews," (except a BUSHY. 43 passage up the aisle,) even to within the altar rails on both sides. We have hitherto said Uttle of church-yards. Those who visit the churches we attempt to describe, will have the oppor- tunity of indulging whatever taste they may possess for modern inscriptions. Many ancient rehcs however, are still to be found upon the green sod. All the church-yards in this and the adjoining counties are remarkable for wooden tombs, two up- rights support a cross piece upon which the memorial or epi- taph is inscribed. 44 HEMEL HEMPSTEAD. On stepping out of the Railway carriage at the third Station, the traveller finds himself on Box-Moor — a common, whose onlv embellishments in former times were the river Gade, and the high road from London to Aylesbury, which is part of the ancient " Ikenild way." Its modern improvements are the Grand Junction Canal and the Railroad, and here may be seen the four means of communication at one view. The canal is at this point distant forty miles from London, and whilst the boats require a day and a half to navigate from the City Road Basin to Box-Moor, the Railroad train travels the same dis- tance in httle more than an hour. The village at the east end, on the canal, is called " Two- Waters." One of the branches of the river Thames, which has its source at Tring, called " Bulbourne Head," falls into the Gade at this place and gives the name to the village. Certain of the inhabitants of Hemel Hempstead have the privilege of grazing cattle on the Moor, and a circular iron badge placed upon their door-posts indicates the inhabitant who enjoys this privilege. In summer the breeze from the south or w^est brings purity and health with it, but in the wnnter, with a strong touch of the east or north, there CHURCH OF HEMEL HEMPSTEAD. HEMEL HEMPSTEAD. 45 is a w*ind -which, as an old cottager expressed it, " would skin a feather." A tolerably agreeable road of two miles, takes you to Hemel Hempstead, and there you have not to choose between the rival inns, "the old and new Commercial," for the pro- prietors will already have secured your patronage, by sending their own cars or coaches down to the Station, and driving you at once into their premises. We were fortunate enough to meet with Mr. Deacon, whose coach is called the " Queen Dowager," and his inn the " King's Arms," the former con- veyed us safely to the latter, and right well pleased we were with our fare during a sojourn of two days. The river Gade, on its way to join the Thames at Dorchester in Oxfordshire, runs thi'ough the valley, embellishing in its course the park and seat of Sir Ashley Cooper, the former, open to visitors at all times, is reached by turning down a lane just beyond the northern extremity of the town, and crossing the river over a wooden bridge. From the pai'k a view of the town is obtained, but the real searcher after the pictm*esque should ascend to the exterior of the Church tower, and the " vale," (as the inhabi- tants call it) will please his eye, although the \iew, except on the side towards Box Moor, is confined. The Church, dedicated to the Virgin Mary, is well worthy of a visit. Its character is neatness, and its fittings are elegant and comfortable. It consists of a nave, two side aisles, and a transept, on the top of which is built a handsome tower, with Norman- Saxon lights, the whole surmounted with a beautiful spire of ornamented lead. At the west end is a fine door of Saxon architecture, curiously 46 HEMEL HEMPSTEAD. and richly ornamented ; highly adorned with fleurs-de-lis and vine leaves alternately, fretwork, &c. The capitals are enriched with grotesque figures The nave is separated from the aisles by a range of five massive columns on each side, and two half columns with sculptured square capitals, which support arches with zig-zag mouldings. The tower rests on semi-circular clustered columns, ornamented. The west window is adorned with a representation, in stained glass, of the Good Samari- tan, a happy subject, considering it to have been chosen by the donor. Sir Ashley Cooper. The oldest monument we could discover is placed in the south-western corner of the Church, and is to the memory o^ one Robert Albyn and his wife, who hved in the reign of Edward the Third. Its di- lapidated condition entirely prevents the decyphering the inscription on the spot, but we are enabled, through other means to present the whole, with translations. The original inscription is as follows, in Norman-French : — " IXoifjett Sfbpn gist ici tt ^ctc;tttz gia fcmme SDnckt Ip Deu Qe leg! alms cpt mercp 3mcn." The translation into modern French will be : — " Robert Albyn git ici et Marguerite sa femme Avec lui ; Dieu sur leurs ames ayez merci, Amen." And the EngHsh : — " Robert Albyn lies here, and Margaret his wife With him. God have mercy on their souls, — Amen." HEMEL HEMPSTEAD. 47 There are other monuments to members of the Bridgewater family, both in the interior and on the exterior of the Church, worth inspection, and also one to the memory of the lady of Sir Ashley Cooper, whose pew, and " the place where he sits," when at church at Hemel Hempstead, are pointed out as objects of interest. We were amused with the garrulity of the Sexton — a hale man of sixty, who informed us that he, his father and grand-father, were born and had hved all their lives in*the place, and as for the " Regalia " — the cushions and pulpit cover- ings — beadle's staff and so forth, he assured us " there was not a more splendid " turn out in all England." It is but just to confess that we have seen many worse. The " Chime Barrel " in the tower was shewn to us also, but we accounted for not hearing its sounds on Sunday, by remembering that out of six tunes which the chimes play, four of them are profane. On the south side of the chmxh-yard there formerly stood an ancient moated seat, called Hempstead Bury, granted by Henry VHI. to John Waterhouse and Richard Coombe, on the occasion of his visit to the latter, w^hen he was sumptuously entertained, in return for which the king granted a charter to the town, and a market to be held, which is now held on Thm"sdays. There are no turnpikes within seven miles of Hemel Hempstead, and it is a tradition that this privilege was also granted by Henry VHI. King Offa gave six mansions in this town, then called Haen (or old) Hempstead, to the monastery of St. Alban's which grant was confirmed by king Ethelred. After the conquest the remainder of the villa, which had belonged 48 HEMEL HEMPSTEAD. to the Saxon kings, was given by William I, to the Earl of Mortaigne, whose son forfeited it to the crown for raising a rebellion in Normandy against Henry I. It afterwards became the property of Richard, Earl of Cornwall, brother of Henry HI. His son Edmond gave it, excepting the Warren and Church, to the Monastery of Bon Hommes at Esseray, now Ashridge, the seat of the Bridgewater family, with whom it remained until the dissolution. About the year 1 800, during the period of the formation of the canal over Box-Moor, a robbeiy of the Mail Bags was ef- fected one night by a man named Snook which created a great sensation at the time, from the fact of Snook being afterwards executed near the spot of the robbery, which is now marked by a mound of earth opposite the farm house at the western end of the Moor. The mail bags were in those days carried by horse, and on the night in question, the man who had them in charge was stopped by a robber and compelled to carry the bags to a solitary spot and then told to go " about his business." The next morning the bags were found with part of their con- tents, in a field by some labourers in the employ of a respectable farmer named Pope. Information was immediately given to the Post Master of the district, Mr. Page of the King's Arms, Berkhampstead, who forthwith proceeded to the Post Office, in London, where he delivered w^hat had been found to Mr. Freehng, (the late Sir Francis Freeling,) and for the time, all clue to the perpetrator of the robbery was lost. It afterguards transpired that the name of the culprit was HEMEL HEMPSTEAD. 49 Snook. He obtained by this adventure a large booty, having from one letter alone, abstracted property to the amount of five hundred pounds. With this he hastened to "London, the needy villain's general home," and took up his abode in the Borough of Southwark. There one of those incautious acts which commonly follow or accompany crime, had nearly betrayed him into the hands of justice. He sent a ser\^ant from the house where he resided, to purchase a piece of cloth for a coat, and gave her what she understood was a five-pound note. When this, as such, was presented in pa}Tiient for the cloth, the tradesman said there must be some mistake, as what she had tendered, instead (rf being a five was a fifty-pound note. The female returned to Mr. Snook, who, upon this, thought it advisable instantly to de- camp, and he then directed his steps to Hungerford in Wiltshire, which was his native place. Here he for some time success- fully eluded pursuit, though the most active exertions were made by the police to discover his retreat, and a reward of three- hundred poimds was offered for his apprehension. He was at length taken, in consequence of being recognized by a post-boy who had formerly been his schoolfellow. Carried to Hertford, he was put on his trial and found guilty. A severe example was thought necessary, and he was ordered to die. Instructions were then given to Mr. Page, who was high constable of the district, as well as post-master, to select a place for his execution, a8 near as possible to the scene of his crime, so as not to give annoyance to the neighbourhood, and it was intended that he should be hung in chains ; but this being petitioned against by 50 HEMEL HEMPSTEAD, those who resided on or near Box-Moor, the design was abandoned. The criminal conducted himself with great forti- tude. He proposed to one whom he had formerly known, to give him his watch, on condition that he should take away his remains, but the party applied to, unwiUing to have attention fixed on him as the friend of such a character, declined the offer. It was in consequence determined that he should be buried under the gallows. The place already described having been fixed upon for the closing scene, on the day of execution, he was brought from Hertford in a post-chaise, and the appar- atus of death, also brought from Hertford, having been previously erected, he was placed in a cart and from that launched into eternity. After the corpse was cut down, it was then asked if any one would give him a coffin. Nobody came forward, and the hangman having stated that the clothes of the dead man were now his property, proceeded to strip the body for interment. His garments having been removed, with the exception of the lower part of his dress, the executioner was about to seize also on them, when Mr. Page interfered and insisted that some regard should be had to decency, and that these should not be taken from the defunct malefactor. A hole was then dug beneath the fatal tree on which he had suffered, and a truss of straw having been procured, half of it was thrown into the grave, and the corpse being placed on it, the other half was thrown on the body and the earth was with- out further ceremony filled in. But the people in the neigh- bouring town of Hemel Hempstead hurt at the manner in which HEMEL HEMPSTEAD. ol a wretched fellow creature had thus been entombed, subscribed to purchase a coffin^ which, on the following day, they carried to the place where the miserable robber had paid the last penalty of the law, re-opened the grave, and deposited the lifeless form, in the coffin so compassionately subscribed for, and the earth immediately again closed over him. Snook had previously been a bad character and had committed several highway robberies. He once attempted to stop a Mr. Laker and was said to have fired a pistol at him, but the intended victim escaped unhurt. At the place of execution, when about to be turned off, he ad- verted to this charge, and admitted his guilt so far as the intent to rob went, but denied that he had contemplated mur- der, or intended doing Mr. Laker any bodily injury. At the moment he checked his horse for the purpose of approaching Mr. Laker, the animal reared, and in taking the pistol from his pocket, it went off by accident. Snook's general conduct, caused his statement to obtain beUef, as however desperate his unlawful enterprises, he was not known to have in any case used unnecessary violence. When he committed the offence for which his life was forfeited, he did not in any way ill-treat the beara: of the mail bags, but only compelled him to go as already mentioned, to a place convenient for the perpetration of the robbery he meditated. 52 BERKHAMSTED On alighting at this station from London, the town is imme- diately on the left, and the extensive remains of its ancient Castle (of which we shall have to speak at large hereafter) on the right. - The town has been from situation, considered as a British Oppidum, by Salmon, unguarded by any fosse or bank, the usual defence. Dr. Stukely, from the Roman coins, fragments of armour, spurs. &c., that have been found here, asserts, that it must have been a Roman Station ; and others have stated it to have been Durocobrivis. Leaving all these conjectures to have their due weight, w^e shall abide by the testimony of Norden, who says, that, " the Saxons, in old time, called this town Berghamstedt, because it BERKHAMSTED. 53 was seated among hills ; for Berg signified a hill ; Ham, a town ; and Stedt, a seat ; all which are proper for the situation hereof." It was near Berkhamsted that Frederick, Abbot of St. Alban's, a man of the royal blood, and related to King Canute, impeded the march of WiUiam I. by causing the trees on the road-side to be felled and laid across the way, after a consulta- tion of the English nobility at this place. The Abbot, we are told, " first threw trees, and then oaths ; and brought the Con- queror to mean concessions, and swallowing oaths he never meant to keep. But WiUiam was so much a conqueror, that he conquered that just dread mortals should have of the Avenger of perjury. He swore upon the Gospel, and the reliques of St. Alban's Church, that he would keep inviolable the good and ancient laws of the kingdom ; yet he took away all their lands, and di- vided them among his commanders and his countrymen. Thev that would excuse him in this small slip of perjury, lay it upon Norman advice, that he broke through his engagement. He seems to have wanted no counsel in the case, to slight those he had subdued, and to trust for his support in the throne, to the men whose valour had raised him to it." Henry H. granted to "all the men and merchants of this town great pri\41eges, even the same as they enjoyed under Edward the Confessor ; that they should have liberty of selline their merchandise through England, Normandy, and other provinces of France, free of duties." They had farther, an ex- emption from the common jurisdiction, and had particular f2 54 BSRKHAMSTED offices of this honour and liberty, such as high steward and coroner, and that no market should be held within seven miles of the town." The crown continued possessed of Berkhamsted until King John granted it to Geoffrey Fitz Piers, Earl of Essex. This nobleman founded two hospitals here, one dedicated to St. John the Baptist, the other to St. John the Evangehst, for lepers, and vested the guardianship of both, in the brothers of St. Thomas D'Acres, in London, obliging them, however, to spend the revenue in Berkhamsted, and not carry it else- where. Henry III. changed the market, which had been on Sunday, to Monday. That monarch, when he created liis brother Richard, Earl of Cornwall, invested him with the castle and honour of Berkhamsted, as an appendage to the earldom. This earl, after having made two pilgrimages to the Holy Land, married his second wife, the daughter of Raymond, Count of Provence, and sister of the Queen of England, whom he en- dowed at the church door of Westminster Abbey with the third portion of all his estates, and this of Berkhamsted among the rest. He was afterwards elected king of the Romans and died, leaving by his second wife, Edmond, Earl of Cornwall, who married Margaret, daughter of Richard de Clare, Earl of Gloucester and Hereford, from whom he was divorced, and living a life of discontent, founded the convent of Esserugge or AsHRiDGE, where he died without issue, and was buried near BERKHAMSTED. 55 his father, at Hales Abbey, in Gloucestershire. His nephew, King Edward I. was declared his heir, who granted to Piers Gaveston, on his marriage with the king's sister, Berkhamsted, and all its royalties. By the death of this upstart favourite, the estate devolved to the crown ; and Edward HI. having raised his brother. Prince John of Eltham, to the earldom of Cornwall, he added to it the honour, castle, and to^ii of Berk- hamsted, with other manors, to the value of two- thousand poimds per annum. Upon his decease, without issue, the same king be- stowed all these estates on his eldest son Edward, prince of Wales, sumamed the Black Prince, together with the dukedom of Cornwall, "to be held by him and his heirs, and the eldest sons of the kings of England." It has since descended from the crown to the successive princes of Wales. There anciently belonged to the honour of Berkhamsted, no fewer than fifty towns and hamlets in the counties of Herts, Bucks and Northampton ; and the tenants were accustomed to do their service at this town. This custom has, however, been relaxed ; the courts are held in each county, and the tenants pay a pecuniary consideration, to be excused from the above service. The town formerly sent members to parhament ; and it was incorporated by James I. (whose children were nursed here,) by the name of Bailiff and Burgesses, who might have a com- mon seal, purchase a council-house, make laws for the borough, and choose a recorder and town clerk; the bailiff. 56 BERKHAMSTED. recorder, and chief burgess, to be justices of the peace for the borough and Hberties and they were to have a silver mace with the arms of Charles, Prince of Wales, engraved on it. During the war between Charles I. and the Parhament, this corporation sunk into obhvion. " This body politic," says Salmon, " is now reduced to a skeleton ; and is like the castle, which is to be known only by its walls and moats." Thus far may be regarded as the ancient history of the town of Berkhamsted, Tlie market in the present day is still held on Monday, but has become of little note. Tring on one side, and Hemel Hempstead on the other (at both which towns the markets are large), have no doubt contributed to its decay. The single broad street which almost alone constitutes the town, is a mile in length, of spacious dimensions, and presents a noble range of houses, the chief of which are ancient, in which the elegant, the respectable, and the mean are intermingled. At the London, or east end, is a choice specimen of the style of building of the early part of the seventeenth century, now a school. The projecting windows of diamond shaped glass, cover the greater portion of the building, and communicate to it an air of lightness and beauty to which modem houses are strangers. As a contrast to this, we may mention another object worthy of note — the old market-house, which as respects its architecture, is nearly as ornamental to the town, as the new National Gallery is to Trafalgar Square in London, although the former has this advantage over the latter, that notwithstanding BERKHAMSTED. 57 its degraded style of architecture, it doubtless fully answers the purpose for which it was intended. Berkhamsted was of great note when the exiled Bourbons of France sought an asylum in this country. Louis XVIII, and after him Charles X. and family, hved at Hartwell House, about two miles from Aylesbury, and on their joumies t-o and from the metropoUs, always honored the King's Arms with their custom, and as their numerous royal and noble visitors at Hartwell did the same, this inn has entertained in turn nearly all the crowned heads in Europe, to the no small gratification and profit of the worthy Mr. Page — the present landlord. Not only also is "Miss Page," the landlord's accomplished daughter, to be mentioned in connection with the King's Arms and the Regal times above alluded to, but it belongs to the page of history to record, that so highly pleased was the monarch Louis with the attentions he received, and with the superior man- ners of this lady, that on her visit to Paris after his restoration , she was actually honored with an audience at the TuiUeries. — Miss Page has not only, however, been thus favourably known to and respected by princes and nobles whose day has passed, and left her possessed of a store of anecdotes which cannot fail to amuse her present visitors ; but besides these, there were very many commercial travellers who used regularly to make the King's Arms, at Berkhamsted, their Sunday rendezvous. Many of them are now no more, have become heads of the houses for which they used to journey, or withdrawn from 58 BERKHAMSTED. business altogether, are enjoying their otium cum dignitate. This well managed inn, however, from the combination of the various circumstances which have been enumerated, became cdebrated throughout this and the neighbouring counties, and " mine host " and " sweet Ann Page " were extensively known and universally respected by all classes of travellers. In the present unexpected course of things, the town of Berkhamsted, it might be anticipated, would fall into com- plete decay : its posting business is nearly gone — the visits of commercial travellers are now "few and far between," and the stage-coaches and the bugle of the guard will probably but a very short time longer rouse the inhabitants at stated hours to " gaze upon the passengers with a curious eye," and bring profit to the inn-keepers. But luckily the town, although a sufferer from these changes of fortune, has, by the Railroad, been brought within one hour and a quarter of London, and unless we are mistaken, its pure air will render it a desirable suburb of the great metropoHs, whilst its scenen^ and ruins are wdl calculated to attract and gratify the visitor for a day or two in the summer season — especially if the visit be extended to Ashridge Park and other picturesque scenery in its vicinity. THE CASTLE. This once important building was of an oval form and sur- rounded by a double ditch and ramparts of earth, which still BERKHAMSTED. 59 remain. The outer one forms an elevated promenade of about 1 700 feet in circuit, and the sides of the ramparts having been recently planted with trees, an agreeable walk is formed, which extends round nearly the whole of the distance. The entire site, ditches included, measures about eleven acres. Within the second rampart are considerable remains of the Castle walls which were of great thickness, and now varv' in height, even in their ruined and reduced condition, from 1 8 to 24 feet . They are overtopped and shrouded with a most luxuriant growth of iw. The walls are formed of flints embedded in mortar, but do not retain any marks of ornaments. South-east of the area is a high artificial mount on which the " Keep " for- merly stood. It is caUed, locally, the *' Tower Hill" and measures about 40 feet in diameter on the top. A wall now overgrown with trees, shrubs and brambles, runs to its summit. On digging within the walls, two brick floors, or pavements, one a few feet under the other have been found, and the ruins of the gate, or entrance, still exist on the south side, upon the rampart close to the high road between the Castle and its new companion the Railway. The site of the Castle appears to have been well chosen, being the only high and dry ground in the immediate vicinity of the town, but yet it is worthv of remark, that hke many others of ancient date, it is commanded by a hill at a very small distance from it, which seems to prove that the range of the machines used formerly in sieges was very Umited. 60 BERKHAMSTED. The ancient history of this Castle may be found in " Grose's Antiquities," from wliich we have collected the scattered dates and condensed in a chronological form, the following interesting account of its various possessors from the year 697 to 1609, after which it appears to have fallen into decay. A. D. 697. — In possession of the Mercian Kings. Withred, King of Kent and Mercia, here held a great council where divers laws printed in Chauney's Histor}^ of Herts were enacted. 1066. — After the Battle of Hastings, WilUam the Con- queror here halted for some days with his army, and received the oaths of allegiance of the British Lords and Nobles. 1206. — 7th of John, who granted the Castle and honour of Berkhamsted to Jeofirey Fitzpiers, Earl of Essex. 1215. — 16th John. The Castle and town again vested in the Crown, and Rannulph the German, ap- pointed by the King to the custody thereof. 1216. — Louis the Dauphin of France invaded this realm, and laid siege to the Castle. The garrison taking advantage of the negligence of the besiegers, made two successful sallies, taking divers chariots and a Banner. BERKHAMSTED. 61 1218. — 2d Henr\' III. Castle again in the Crown, and by that king given to his younger brother Richard, for his good services at the siege of Riole, in France. 1300. — Reverted to the Crown on the death of Edmund, Earl of Cornwall, founder of the College of Bonhomes. 1308. — 1st Edward II., granted to Piers Gaveston, Earl of Cornwall, who, being executed, the Castle came again into the possession of the Crown. 1311 . — 4th Edward III . , granted to John of Etham, Earl of Cornwall, 2nd son to Edward II., who died without issue, when it descended to Edward the Black Prince. 1388. — 2nd Richard II. When Robert de Vear was ad- vanced to the title of Duke of Ireland, he had liberty to reside in the Castle. 1400. — Henry of Monmouth, afterwards King Henry V., possessed the Castle, honour and town. 1422. — Henrv of Windsor, eldest son of Edward V., was the possessor. 62 BERKHAMSTED. 1454. — Edward of Westminster, eldest son of Henry of Windsor, was the possessor. 1461. — Henry IV., granted the stewardship the first year of his reign, to John, Lord Wenlock, one of his privy Counsellors. Richard the HI., said to have been bom here. 1560. — Queen Ehzabeth demised the site, circuit and precincts to Sir Edward Carey, for a term of years, under the yearly rent of a red rose, pay- able to the Queen. 1609. — It descended to another Sir Edward Carey, suc- cessor of the above, and was afterwards annexed to the Dukedom of Cornwall, and appropriated to the Princes of Wales in succession. On perambulating the outer rampart, we were struck with the appearance of an extra heap of earth and ruins, at what appeared to be three equally distant points, and on very carefully measuring the ground, as it now exists, with all the inequahties time and change have made upon it, we found that the distances between each mound, were respectively, 262, 264, and 310 yards ; doubtless, these sites w^ere the ancient towers of the outer rampart of the Castle, and originally equi-distant, or nearly so from each other, and the matter w^e deem the more worthy of BERKHAMSTED. 63 notice, not being aware that any previous visitors have left behind a record of the fact, or that any notice of it exists in the numerous volumes which have been devoted to the topography and antiquities of Hertfordshire. A VISIT TO BERKHAMSTED CASTLE. The pleasure-seeking tourist of our day. Here marks the labours of the olden time. And gazing on proud Berkhamsted's decay. Finds subjects not less solemn than sublime. Cemented flints their facings torn away. Of ruin tell, while smihng in its prime. The blooming ivy be^^utifies the scene, Enihellisliing grim walls with lively green. It is a spot that aptly m.ay be made The favorite theme of antiquarian lore. While sheltered by the elm's o'erhanging shade. We strive the fallen watch-towers to restore. And the strong keep that from yon hill displayed The flag which to the foe defiance bore, Seeming to tell, " Besieged we firm remain. Threaten ye may, but all your threats are vain." 64 BERKHAMSTED. Here tyrant Richard first beheld the light, As we from history and tradition learn. The joyous beauty and her steel-cased knight Trod on this ground, the gay, the grave in turn Who shone in courts, or conquered in the fight : Long since they shared the same sepulchral urn ; And of the pageants ancient minstrels sung, No tale now lingers on the peasant's tongue. Where are the nodding plumes, the glittering spear. The arquebus, the battle-axe, the bow ? All, — in such active use through many a year. Are with the hands that wielded them laid low. And " the last enemy " it would appear Has worked his own predicted overthrow : The dismal work of stopping human breath. Has been arrested by the hand of death. Explore the double trench, and thoughtful race. The moat which all unheeded wanders round, The vanished portal, and the ample space Enclosed, — once guarded, by the high raised mound ? How vividly we feel that in such place War's clarion erst was no unusual sound. But all its triumphs and defeats forgot. The castle becomes garden to a cot ! Trees are the only sentinels that now Are ranged where formerly stood armed men. Where awful care sat on the hero's brow. The housewife now pursues the straying hen. BERKHAMSTED. 6-^ Where thousand hearts fulfilling Knighthood's vow. Beat high for glory, issuing from his den, One champion now appears, man's friend and slave, A little cur most faithful and mo:it brave. He, when the stranger seeks his master's home. Impetuous to attack, his powers will strain, To scare th' intruder, seem with rage to foam, And soothed, or menaced with profound disdain. Regards th' unknown though from a lordly dome. And would do more than bark, but for his chain ; Pythagoras in him, some chief of old. Would deem revived, unmoved by fear or gold.* Myriads of leaves on mound and '* Tower Hill " — So called that hill, where once the Donjon rose. Tell of the waning year and Winter's chill. But in the cheerless time of frost and snows These vestiges are interesting still To him whose breast with reverend ardour glows, While ebbing life is felt receding fast. To read the by-gone glories of the past. * As the writer approached a cottage which stands within the area of the ruins, a small dog rushed from his kennel and intimated strong displeasure at the intruding freedom of a stranger. The latter by speech and gestures endeavoured to make peace with the animal, but in vain. Subsequently, being armed with a stick, one blow of which would have killed the dog, he raised it threatingly to awe him into silence. Even this ftiiled ; and the fearless guardian, without retreating a single step, continued his most zealous opposition. G ^ G6 BERKHAMSTED. THE CHURCH is dedicated to St. Peter, and consists of a square embattled tower having an octagonal staircase at the south-east angle and is adorned with four handsome gothic M^ndows. The inte- rior consists of a nave with two side aisles and two chapels or chantries : that on the south side is called the chapel of St. John. A number of inscriptions of ancient date are found in all parts of the church from which we first select as worthy of note two in the aforesaid chapel. They are in black letter cut in breiss and placed upon the floor. The first is as follows : — ** i^rrc T»ct!) Imryrtr uutfcr ti)v^ ^tatxt ti)t hats^c at ^ahcxt $nc0ut, (g?nti)Iman, Xatc ^crfaant uitto tl;e noble jprmcciSsc Eatigr Cccpic, Sutfljfs^c 0f ^oritc, autf mnttjer imta tijc fcoorti^i) Iting (Stf^artfc tijc fourtlj aiitf lairi^artrc ti)C fijtrtJc, ixil^izf) ^attf HoBcrt 3:nccnt Uictr of tlje Qvctt ^tuctnns ^yferno^sc tf)t fiv^t wear of ti}t xitttpi of Icimg ^Kius tTjc WM, ujjoii h)f)0^c ^ouT, Sclju !)ai)c merry Henry VII. began to reign in 1485, which fixes the date of the death of the above Robert Incent. On consulting " Lan- quette's Chronicles," a curious black letter book published in the year 1560, BERKHAMSTED. 67 " in t^e I)Ousc, late Zf^aim^ JSartlKlcttrs' in ffUttt ^tretr," Ave find four notices of the "(Srcte slDCtyus svknc^sCy** a malady, which at the time spread alarm far and wide, it being considered a scourge almost exclusively confined to Eng- lishmen, whether at home or in Foreign Countries, as will be seen in the subjoined extracts from the Chronicles just mentioned. 91. B. 1485.— Ci^cstBcatyug^irfenrs£?cbc5anncft|r£ft in dFnglantr, ol tf)c fcDl)ir]^c a tonntrcrfull multitutre trictf for ladfec 0f go0ti Ifecjptng. 1528 — Cl)e shjcatgns iicknt^it ragelr in trifacrs" partes al enstantrc. 1530.— CI)c stocatung ^icknci^c facjrctr 2iSrabantc, anir great part of (Snmania, ioffcvcal faery manw trpelr, anlr espectalli) in ^nticerpe, fa3l;erc in tl)ree tfaies j^pace, it coniSumeti fa. ijuntfretr per^on^. 1552 —in (Jrnglantfe tl;t^ Summer fasas a faernelsangcrous iStoeate, fajljereof a great numier tfiieti iDttl)tn ti^e iSpaceof a nngljt or a trane after tijcu inere fjirst taKen. C1)C maner of tljisl stocate toa^ ^«et}, ttjat 68 BERKHAMSTED. j)f mrn tJytr tafec couRfc outtoartilnr, it ^trofec ttje ^Jucatc tu, antf tmmctiiatcli) fenllctf tTjeim. 3:f tf)Ct) lurreiirjiJt tirryrTosc, antr ioiti^ manij cl0atf)riS,it sttfnlcti tijcm, auti tft^snlljctf nature. Sf tljcg iuorc ^uffcrctr t0 s'lca^c, rommnnlp tljry sntonctr in t!)Eir iSIcajpc, antf ^0 tfcjiartftr, or sli immctJiatcIg u^an i^tiv luafeMnflc. Before men ijalf learucti tl^e maner of feejptng, au tnftntte mtmftcr perpsIjeU. Ci)iiS tfisease follflirietf dJnijIi^Ijmen as iuen totti^in tf)e 3aealme, a;S aljSo iii ^traunfle rontrenes. ©sn[)ere- fore ti)i^ nation toaiS murfje afertre of it, anlr for tlje tiime, fteganne to rejjent antf rememlber (gotr from i3)f)om ti^at jplasrite mt(i!jtiMel seme to ht ^tnt amonge n^, 2Sttt a^ tTje tfy^eaiSe in tyme relentelr ^0 our tfe&otfon al^o in sljorte j^pace IfecageXf. Hume says on this subject that this year (1485) " there raged at this time in London, and other parts of the kingdom, a spe- cies of malady unknown to any other ages or nation, the sweat- ing sickness, which occasioned the sudden death of great mul- titudes ; though it seemed not to be propagated by any conta- gious infection, but arose from the general disposition of the air and of the human body. In less than twenty-four hours, the patient commonly died or recovered ; but when the pestilence » had exerted its fuiy for a few weeks, it was observed, either from alterations in the air, or from a more proper regimen which had been discovered, to be considerablv abated." ANCIENT ALTAR TOMB IN BERKHAMSTED CHURCH. BERKHAMSTED. ^ The second inscription runs thus : — **|^trc lyrtl) bitrnctr unticr tlyy^ stant tijc botrgc al i^atcrgne, ^ sumtjjmr ti)t innf of Enlicrt Inrcnt, (§nit, fati^cr antr matter unto So^)n Inrcut, Bflctor 0f t^c itaiuc, to^fl fiotlj Xsont mang icucftt^ auti flriiamcut^ Qihtn unts3 tfjt^ d^apclof ^awnt So^n, lutirl^c saiU i^atcrnnc tritrtr tTje ^*5 tJaue 0f iHard^, i^t ^M gear of ti^c rrtgn of i^mtj l^ntrg SFiBt. Henry VIII. began to reign in 1509, and consequently, Catherine, the wife of the preceding Robert Incent, died in the year 1521, outliving her husband 36 years. It is worthy of remark, that neither of these inscriptions record the ages of the defunct, an omission seldom met with in the present day. In the chapel on the opposite, or north side of the nave, is a monument of high antiquity, it not being known to whom it Ijelonged.* On an altar tomb, richly carved, are placed recum- bent figures of a knight in armour, and on his right side that of a lady. His feet are supported by a Lion, and hers by a Dog, but from the circumstance of the shields, on the east end of the tomb, bearing the same arms as another monument in the aisle, with an inscription in brass to the memory of Richard Torrington and Margaret his wife ; it is conjectured that they are members of the same family. The brass has outlived the stone, and informs us that of these worthy people (who are stated to have rendered great pecuniary services to the church), * See the Plate. 70 BERKHAMSTED. Richard died in 1336, and his wife in 1349. Nearly five cen- turies have rolled over their tombs, and yet the name of Tor- rington remains an honourable record of their charitable munificence ! There is still one other inscription in the chapel of St. John, to a monk, named " Edmundi Cook, qui obiit, 24 die, mensis Junii, A. D. 1409 " — and on a label, issuing from the mouth of a figure, representing his effigy, " Jesu fili die miserere mei," " Jesus Son of God have mercy upon me," not an inappropriate prayer for a monk." In the south-east corner of the church, in what has formerlv been a chapel for Catholic worship, but subsequently taken pos- session of as a family cemetery — are two brass plates fixed on the wall — the first is to the memory of " John Waterhouse, Gent., deceased the 11th day of August, in anno 1558, and Margaret, his wife, deceased the 10th daye of January, in annum dicto, which John and Margaret had issue, viz. — John, Thomas, WiUiam, Edward, Arthur and Charlas," — five of these surnames being the names of Kings. The second is of later date. — " Hereunder lieth interred the bodye of the worthy ladie. Dame Margaret Waterhouse, deceased, daughter of Thomas SpiUman, of Chart, in the county of Kent, Esq., in memorie of whose vertues, and his dearest love. Sir Edward Waterhouse, Knight, hath caused this monument to be erected. Shee died the 6th dav of Julv 1587, aged 38, and hec the 13th November, aged BERKHAMSTED, sf, MARy's. 71 55, and lies buried with his last wife, Dame Deborah, at the manor of Woodchm-chin Kent." In the vestry is a painting, representing the entrance to the Castle of Berkhamsted. It consists of a gateway, surmounted by a massive tower, and ha^ing a smaller tower on each side ; on the latter, flags are displayed bearing the red cross. BERKHAMSTED, ST. MARy's, otherwise called Northchurch, is a parish one mile from Berk- hamsted, St. Peter's, on the road towards Tring. The church has been lately renovated. The altar is decorated with a modem painting of the Virgin and Child, after Vandyke, of no mean merit, and another object of interest, is a curiouslv and elabo- rately carved "old Oak Chest" which would funiish a model for sculptors of thepreseni; ddv. In the church-yard is a simple inscription — to the memory of PETER, THE WILD BOY, 1785. whose history is enlarged upon in a brass table*, placed on the eastern wall within the church, and perpetuates his singular fate as follows : — His likeness is also engraved above the inscription. " To tfie memory of Peter, called the wild boy, who being found wild in the forest of Hertswald near Hanover, in the vear 72 BERKHAMSTED, ST. MARy's. 1 725 ; he was then supposed to be about twelve years old. In the following year he was brought to England by order of Queen Carohne, and the ablest masters were provided for him, but proving incapable of speaking, or of receiving any instruction, a comfortable provision was made for him by her majesty at a farm-house in this parish, where he continued to the end of his inoffensive hfe. — He died on the 22nd of February 1785, sup- posed to be aged 72." At the King's Arms, at Berkhamsted, there is a portrait of this remarkable individual, towards whom public curiosity was once most powerfully attracted. He was found in the woods by King George the first, afterwards brought to England, and a residence assigned to him at a farm-house kept by a Mr. Fenn, in this neighbourhood, where he Hved many years. The dogs found the wandering human being, and pursued him as they would the game they were originally sent to hunt. He was naked, with the exception of part of a shirt collar round his neck. To escape the hounds he fled with great trepidation, and finally took refuge in a hollow tree where he was ultimately secured. Mr. Page, the respectable landlord of the King's Arms Inn, in which he has been estabhshed more than half a centur}% and who has now reached the age of ninety years, is perfectly con- versant with the history of Peter, to whom he was weU known. He confirms the general account given of him as to his habits, but controverts the statement that he never laughed. Much of BERKHAMSTED, ST. MARY's, 73 the time of this child of the woods seemed to pass in a mirthful mood. Though he could not speak in the common way, he succeeded in articulating a word or two. When asked "who was his father," a question which was often jocularly put to him for the sake of the answer which it was expected to ehcit, he would reply in a guttural tone, "King George." It was at- tempted to make him work on the farm, but for this Peter had veiy little taste. At times when the labourers were loading a cart with farm produce, he would "lend a hand" and do as well as the other men. He, however, required constant superin- tendance. On one occasion, being left to himself to cart a load of manure, he set about the work with active industr\', but having filled the cart, he jumped into it and proceeded to unload it. He would fetch the cows home, but sometimes when told to do so, he would refuse by shaking his head and making a low grumbhng noise. His disinclination to work, however, Mr. Page states, has in some instances been very speedily removed, by the exhibition of a whip, which it may thence be inferred, though he was never treated with severity, had occa- sionally come in contact with his person. He would drink beer or ale, and hquors, especially gin, with great eagerness, and testify his approbation of such a treat by clapping his hands. For the other sex he manifested no partiality. He would run after children, not in anger, but in order to caress them. Indeed, as stated in the tablet above transcribed, his was truly an inof- fensive life. His strange demeanor might offend, but he H 74 BERKHAMSTED, ST. MARY S. attempted to harm no one. Anything Uke chastisement, seemed to alarm, rather than to irritate. Peter could not be taught good manners. The polite obser- vances of a countiy village were too much for him. Whoever might be in the parlour of the King's Arms, Peter without troubling himself to knock at the door, would burst in without ceremony. Nor was it only at the Inn that he acted thus. Any private house in the town that he felt inclined to enter, he would invade in the same abrupt manuer. He was, for the most part, pretty well watched by those to whose care he had been confided. From Government they received an allowance of thirty-five pounds per annum, this perhaps for a human being of his habits, was, looking at the then price of the necessaries of life, and the low rents, as much as seventy pounds per annum would be now. When he entered a house where company was assembled, it was usual for some one who knew him to caution strangers against being alarmed^ as the intruder was perfectly harmless. He loved finery, and would seem much pleased with a lady's gay attire, down which he would pass his hand with evident admiration. A she wy coat in like manner, attracted his notice, and bright buttons found especial favour in his eyes. He frequently testified the warmth of his approbation by the legitimate and civilized mode of ex- pressing applause, as it is considered in some cases, of clapping his hands. This act he resorted to, not merely when any object pleased his eye, but anything soothed his mind, such as it was. BERKHAMSTED, ST. MARy's. 75 In his situation no very remarkable adventure could be expected to disturb " the even tenor of liis way," but one incident occurred which is worth recalling. On some occasion he happened to elude the observation of his friends or keepers, and strayed away. Every search which humane anxiety could suggest was made for the wanderer, but in vain. Those who were acquainted with the harmless incapacity of Peter, little dreamed what had be- fallen him. Having got into Norfolk, he had actually been appre- hended as a spy, in the interest of the Pretender. His bushy beard, and generally his uncouth appearance, had caused it to be supposed that he was a foreigner, and his inability to speak, was clearly construed into a singular instance of cunning which thus aimed at guarding against the possibility of its being known to what country the prisoner belonged. The suspicious cir- cumstances under which he had been taken up, were advertised in " the Hue and Cry" with a description of his person and manner, and these led to his being discovered by those who were seeking him. It was fortunate for him that this happened soon, for the treatment the poor creature received as a sus- pected spy, was so different to that to which he had been accustomed, that it threw him into a state of the most profound melancholy, and he obstinately refused food. When the person sent to effect his release, entered the place of his confinement the unfortunate testified the comfort he derived from recog- nising a face that he had known before, by clapping his hands with joyful vivacity. One night while he was detained, a fire 76 BERKHAMSTED, ST. MARY's. broke out. He was anxiously sought for, and when found, was sitting quietly in a corner, enjoying the hght and warmth very much, and not at all frightened. Peter hved in the reigns of George the first, George the second, and George the third. In the time of this last named monarch, and not very long before Peter's death, " the wild boy," as he was stiU called, was by royal command taken to Court. Nothing is reported of his visit there, save that he himself seemed gi'atified by what he saw. — Before taking him there, however, he was dealt with in a way well calculated to disappoint the curiosity which called him to the presence of the Great. He was shaved, and dressed in the hvery of the King's servants. In this disguise it could hardly be said that the Court had an opportunity of seeing " Peter the Wild Boy." To the last, the habits of his wild companions of the forest were those which he preferred. When drinking, to him it was more convenient to fall on his knees, and lap from a vessel placed on the ground, than to raise what he was to take to his lips. Though he was supposed to understand the words com- monly addressed to him, his capacity in this way was extremely hmited. It need hardly be added, that no rehgious impression could be made on a being like Peter. When sickness came over him, he so far resembled the rest of mankind, as to exhibit depression of spirits and distaste for food. He died after having been redeemed from the woods threescore years. His funeral was by order, similar to that of a respectable tradesman. Mr. BERKHAMSTED, ST. MARy's. 77 Page, from whom many of the facts here collected have been obtamed, was one of the pall-bearers, the only one now ahve. Sometime after the interment, a person came to Berkhamsted who represented himself to have journeyed from Hanover, and was desirous of having the corpse exhumed, application was made to the minister, who refused permission to disturb the remains. The stranger mentioned a high price, which he said he would have given for the head of the deceased, and it was shrewdly suspected that he did not depart till the object of his coming had been accomplished. By some it was supposed, that the application was connected with an attempt to identify the deceased. Considering that sixty years had passed since he was taken in the woods, during all which long period much better opportunities were constantly offered for satisfying such an enquiry, than would be offered by possessing the corpse, this conjecture must be admitted as very improbable. It would be much more reasonable to suppose, that the head was wanted to assist the early enquiries of the Phrenologists, whose doctrmes then began to attract great attention in Germany. With respect to his birth and parentage, nothing has yet transpired. It w^as reported that a widower of Inchtinger had had a dumb child who, ha\4ng been lost in the woods in 1723, returned home again ; but on his father's second marriage, was driven out again by his step-mother. At the time he was found, he must have been for a long time an inhabitant of the woods. The fishermen of the Weser, had seen at different H 2 78 BERKHAMSTED, ST. MARY's. points on the banks of the river, a poor naked boy, and had given him something to eat. He had not been heard to speak, and when Peter was discovered, was supposed to be the same. We find the preceding account of Peter, in all its main par- ticulars, corroborated in various works. There was a peculiarity in the formation of his left hand — two of the fingers being united by a web up to the middle joint. It was in the Bride- well of the city of Norwich that Peter was confined when he strayed away — having doubtless gone, in one of his walks, beyond the bounds of his knowledge — and in the House of Correction, of that place, he was punished as a "sturdy" vagrant. There is a long notice of him in the Gentleman's Magazine, for May 1785, and in Vol. 55, of the same work, written by Lord Monboddo, who paid him a visit in his retreat in Hertfordshire. 79 A S H R I D G E , The seat of the Bridgewater family being situated two miles from this place amidst scenery of the most interesting character, w.e annex the following account of it for which we are chiefly indebted to Hughson. Ashridge Abbey is situated in the parish of Pitston, in Bucks. " The house of Bonehomes, called Assecherugge," says Leland, ' ' of the foundation of Edmund, Earl of Cornwall, is two miles oif Berkhamsted, and there the King lodged." Norden de- scribed Ashridge as a royal palace, " wherein our most worthy and ever famous Queene Elizabeth lodged as in her owne, being then a more statehe house, at the time of Wyatt's attempte in Queene Mar^'e's dayes." In 1554, Elizabeth, being now 80 ASHRIDGE. become the public and avowed object of Mary's aversion, and being openly treated -with much disrespect and insult, thought it most prudent to leave the court and retire to her house at Ashridge. During this period she was accompanied by Sir Thomas Pope, and others, more as spies than attendants. Sir Thomas Wyatt's rebeUion having broke out, to oppose the queen's match with Philip of Spain, it was immediately pre- tended that the princess Ehzabeth, in conjunction with Lord Courtenay, afterwards Earl of Devon, was privately concerned in that dangerous conspiracy, and that they held conferences with the traitors. The princess was consequently summoned to court ; and notwithstanding her governors sent word that she was ill in health, and unfit to traval. Sir Edward Hastings, Sir Thomas Cornwall, and Sir Edward Southwell, attended by a troop of horse, were ordered to bring her to London. They found her confined to her bed at Ashridge ; but under pretence of the strictness of their commission, they compelled her to rise ; and still continuing very weak and indisposed, she pro- ceeded in the queen's litter by slow journeys, to London. After her release she changed her abode from this place for Hatfield, where she principally resided until she succeeded to the crown. The Collegiate Church in which lay the remains of Lord Chief Justice Bryan, Sir Thomas and Sir John Denham, and other persons of distinction, was demolished in the reign of Elizabeth. The great hall and the cloisters, were entire in the ASHRIDGE. 81 year 1 800. The hall, had a rich Gothic roof, and pointed windows ; and was enriched vrith fluted pillars on the sides. This beautifhl specimen of ancient architecture, though to all appearance, in good repair, was pulled down by the late Duke of Bridgewater, and the materials sold piece-meal : the cloisters, which were to have shared the same fate, were standing in the year 1802, cifter the'^demohtion of the other buildings, but had sustained considerable injury by the pulling down of the adjoin- ing walls. The roof of the cloisters were of Tottemhoe stone ; wrought ^^•ith x^arious ornaments, which remained very entire. Among these occurred the arms of the founder, and those of the monastery (a holy lamb standing on the sepulchre and holding a banner). The side walls were ornamented with paintings in fresco, well designed, representing the history of Our Saviour (some parts of which serve to support a wall on the side of the high road at Tring, towards Aylesbury) . Some of the figures had been well presers'ed, but most of them had sustained more or less injury from the damp. The park is five miles in circumference, and consists of hiU and dale beautifully varied, covered with fine turf, and shaded with the finest trees of oak, beech, ash, &c. and has truly the striking fea- tures of an ancient majestic park. Within the old house, were many fine family portraits, but no strangers are at present allowed to x-iew them . 82 T R I N G. From the station at Pendley which is one of the ancient manors belonging to the district of Tring, the traveller finds his way to the town by a tortuous road nearly two miles in extent * ; on entering Tring on the left, through an opening formed by a broad avenue of noble trees, the mansion belonging to Mr. Kay (at present in the occupation of Mr. Hankey, the Banker), is discovered. The house is less remarkable for architectural beauty than for the place it occupies in history ; the site having been chosen by Charles II. as a residence for one of his favorites, the celebrated NeU Gwynn. The present mansion was erected by Sir Christopher Wren. The park, however, in which it * The Tring people are determined not to be behind the age. A new road is already marked out from the town to the Railway in a straight line of a mile and a half in length. TRING. 83 stands is a truly magnificent sample of that woodland scenery for which England boasts pre-eminence over all other countries. If the traveller chooses the chief inn — the Rose and Crown — for his sojourn, we recommend him to lose no time in ascen- ding an eminence towards the south-west behind the inn, (called Stubbing' s Wood) and he wiU make the agreeable dis- covery, that a town placed apparently in a flat and uninteresting situation, is in reahty surrounded on aU sides by the picturesque. The extensive view from this point, embraces at one coup d'oeil, those objects which he may afterwards visit in detail, or at least all those within the circle we prescribe to ourselves. The town, embosomed in a profusion of forest trees, amongst which the graceful Beech and the majestic Chestnut predominate — the reservoirs for supplying the Grand Junction Canal in times of drought — the hiU of Ivinghoe, high and bleak — the column at Aldbury , erected by the Countess of Bridgewater — Leighton Buzzard Church in the neighbouring county of Bedford, distant nine miles — and finally the chalky line of the Railroad sweeping off to the westward, the noble innovation of art among the grander works of nature. It may not be amiss to introduce here a few words for the antiquarian. Tring was a place of great note when king Alfred divided this country into hundreds, and from the ancient name of " Treung," the present corruption of Tring is derived. It bore the former name when the Norman Conqueror*, came amongst us "at * The curfew is still rung at Tring during the winter months. 84 TRING. which time there were two mills on the stream rented at nine shillings per year each." In 1148, king Stephen fomided the church of Feversham in Kent, and gave to the abbot and monks thereof, the manor of Tring in perpetual alms (doubtless not then dreaming of Henr}' VIII, ) to pray for the souls of Maude his queen and all faitliful people. King Edward II., in the ninth year of his reign granted to the said abbot of Fever- sham, and the monks in the manor of Tring, a market to be held on Friday which is stiU kept on that day. This manor was held by the abbots of Tring, until the ruthless mind of Henry VIII., wiUed its dissolution — when it shared the fate of all the monastic establishments in the country and became the property of the crown. THE CHURCH. We have seldom seen a temple dedicated to Christian wor- ship, in a Provincial town, of such large dimensions ; whilst it is one of the number stiU seen, whose gothic columns and arches, have not yet been ruined by the adoption of that modem innovation called " Galleries." The walls are remarkably scanty in Monuments, but within the precincts of the Altar is a splendid effort of sculpture, to the memory of Sir William Gore, Knight and Alderman of London, and his Lady. The Rectory of Tring belongs to the Dean and Chapter of Christ Church, Oxford, who are obliged to find a Curate to officiate at Tring, Wigginton and Long Marston (the present stipend TRING. 85 we understand, is only one hundred and fifty pounds per annum). The church is in the Deanery of Berkhamsted — diocese of Lincoln, and has a ring of six bells. There are an- cient slabs within the chancel, dated 1639, 1653 and 1658 ; and a coat of arms of the Lake family, in ancient glass, in the north window, quarterly four crescents, — or and azure counter- changed. The building is of free stone, very appropriately covered with stucco — equivalent in our estimation to silvering gold. The parish of Wigginton is upon the high ground to the eastward of Tring park, and the inhabitants possess very extensive pasturage rights — the "Common" extending nearly five miles in a direct line, as far as Chesham, in the neigh- bouring county of Bucks. The church is dedicated to St. Peter and St. Paul, and the internal part was repaired and beautified in the year 1714, at the sole expense of the above mentioned Gore, who then occu- pied the mansion in Tring Park. He died in 1707, and his Lady 1705. One of the branches of the river Thames rises on the south east, in this parish, from two separate springs — one called DundeU Head, and the other Bulbome Head, and then runs by Box-Moor into Oxfordshire. The town of Tring is seated upon the Ikenild Street, one of the four Roman Consular ways, constructed by the Romans, during their possession of this country for the passage of their armies, &c.; it may not be amiss to enumerate them here ; — 86 TRING. The " Foss-way," extended from Totness in Devonshire to Caithness in Scotland. The " Ermin Street," or " Hermin Street," ran from St. David's to Southampton, having several smaller roads branching from it, called " vicinal ways." The " Watling Street " where perfect, is still one of the finest causeways in England. It commences at Dover, and ends at Cardigan, in South Wales, running through St. Alban's, Dunstable, Towcester, Atherstone and Shrewsbury. The " Ikenild Street " extended from Yarmouth in Norfolk, the eastern part of the kingdom of the Iceni (from whom it derived its name), to Barley in Hertfordshire, giving in its course, name to several villages, as /cA;worth, Icklmgham, and Ickleton. From Barley to Royston, in Cambridgeshire, it divides the counties of Cambridge and Hertford. From Ick- leford it runs to TRING, crosses Buckinghamshire and Oxford- shire, passes the Thames at Goring, and extends to the western pait of England. Whilst these historical details are fresh in the mind of the traveller, if he walk to the western extremity of the town, he will observe on the right hand, in a large garden enclosed by a wall, a building formed of brick and ribbed with oak, bearing unequivocal marks of age — this is no other than the Monastery ofTring — although now converted into the residence of a farm- er, and used in this present nineteenth century as a lodging house for travellers of the working class, in which there were at TRING. 87 the period of our visit, at least one hundred persons congre- gated — chiefly Railway labourers, appropriately enjoying their home-brewed ale in the very kitchen of the monks. The Dor- mitories and Cells may be visited by permission of the tenant. In the former there are some remains of carvings which seem originally to have represented something of the " pomp of heraldry," probably in commemoration of some gift or bequest which a pious life or death-bed penitence had bestowed. The chambers were lofty and vaulted, and even in decay, inspire an interest somewhat akin to awe, It has been found convenient in late years, probably, while the building was occupied as a workhouse to " curtail the fair proportions " of the Hall, by in- troducing a new floor and ceiling, and the apartment thus gained between the new floor and the original roof, is now used as a tap by the Bankers, as the excavators are called, who now lodge in a part of the old Priory. The kitchen has had its di- mensions abated, but the original fire-place remains. What was the chapel, or part of it, is at present occupied as a stable. We in vain look for the original form of the windows of the refectory or principal Hall, as the assaults of Time had made it necessary to repair the external wall when the old window was taken out. On renewing the floor of one of the apartments, the present occupier found that a considerable number of human bodies had been there deposited. Whether the sepulchral vault of the religious estabhshment formerly existed on that spot, or whether the bones thus unexpectedly discovered, were the 88 TRING. remains of victims to those crimes which history assm-es us were but too frequently pei^petrated in the ancient monasteries, can now be only matter of conjecture. They have been left undis- turbed in their resting place. The present occupant, Mr. Beal, an intelligent farmer, and his fair consort, cheerfully show to the curious visitor, all that is most remarkable in their ancient dwelling and obhgingly give every infoiTnation in their power. A votary of the Muses who lately called on them, furnished us with the following Stanzas which were suggested by what he saw and heard there. TRING PRIORY. The world goes round, I see it here. For yonder venerable pile — Where lazy monks breathed vows austere. Is now the scene of cheerful toil. No more the sternly thundered doom. Turns the ojQfending brother pale, But song and chorus in its room, Aid mirth, inspired by home-brew'd ale. TRING. 89 O ! if some potent pencil drew. The beings formed of flesh and blood, Once here, and bade them meet our view. With beads and crosses, cowl arid hood ! How vast the contrast their bold face, Afi'ecting commerce with the sky, Would give to those who now their place. So unpresumingly supply. Here rose to Heaven the matin hymn. And here was heard the vesper song. Here was indulged each sainted whim. Which seemed devotion to prolong, Not that indeed these holy folks. Through all their pilgrimage on earth, Unceasing warfare made on jokes. Or revelry or madd'ning mirth. 'Twas theirs the veil o'er others' eyes. To bind with no unskilful hand. To give, — their dupes — a Heavenly prize ; Themselves, — the fatness of the land. They loved a well-provided board. Which might the richest dainties boast. The wine and Ippocras they pour'd. And beauty was their favoured toast. I 2 90 TBIN6. Some bosoms to devotion true Here fled from all earth's cares and pride. Anxious His footsteps to pursue. Who for their sins on Calvary died. For them the pealing organ's note, The solemn requiem soft and clear, Seem'd on the evening breeze to float. Celestial sounds to mortal ear. But these were rare and could that hall, Where monks communed tell all it saw ; The worshipper it might appal. Nay thrill the infidel with awe. For frightful orgies it may be Within these walls were acted o'er, When those whose mouldering bones I see. Were hid beneath the ancient floor. Such was alas! too sure the case In priories of other days. Murder and riot filled the place Erected but for prayer and praise. And he who should have watched the fold To keep the wolf from coming near^ Betrayed for worldly joys or gold, A trust so sacred and so dear. TRING. Strange changes mark the flight of time : Three centuries since men wondering saw. The old abodes of cant and crime, AboUshed by a despot's Law. Heaven with base instruments works good, A pregnant instance we have there ; The wretch who shed a consort's blood, Made tyrant priests and monks despair. And thus perhaps it was that Tring, Though at the time it zealots shocked, Was cleansed by a ferocious king From knaves who truth and virtue mocked. We ask not who successive pass'd Next occupants — of this secure, The fabric we behold, at last. Came " Heaven directed to the Poor." Now Industry on every part. Its hand has laid in manly strife. To render each with rustic art Appropriate to humble hfe. Where monks sung, those who guide the plough. For pipes instead of anthems call. And in the Chapel — stable now, A horse enjoys the only stall. 91 92 TRING. A short walk on the north side of the town leads to the extensive Mills belonging to Messrs. Evans & Co., of London, for converting raw silk into Organzine. About five hundred hands, chiefly females, are at present engaged, but the mills are capable of giving emplo}Tnent to seven hundred persons. At the junction of the road on which this establishment is situated, the ancient Ikenild way is crossed, running east and west, and beyond are the numerous and capacious reservoirs (the dehght of the followers of Isaak Walton) for the supply of the Grand Junc- tion Canal. This is what is called the "Tring summit." The reservoirs are fed by the land springs, and a steam engine is employed for lifting the water thence into the canal. Here, also, is one of the highest points of the whole Hne of the Rail- road, except at Kilsby in Northamptonshire, seventy-five miles from London, and as we deem " all knowledge is useful," espe- cially Railroad knowledge, we have annexed to our map a section of the levels and inclinations of the whole line. It may not be thought foreign to the subject matter of these sketches, and especially as the Grand Junction Canal accompanies the Railroad the greater part of its course, to introduce here its history in brief. The act for the formation of this Canal was obtained in the year 1792. In 1795 it was opened as far as Brentford where it joins the Thames. The whole hne from Paddington to Braunston in Northamptonshire, was completed in March 1805. Its entire length, including the branches to Uxbridge and Wendover, is one hundred and TRING. 93 thirty- six miles, and at Braunston it joins the Oxford navigation. From London to Bramiston the distance is one hundred and one miles, and there are (by a singular coincidence) one hundred and one locks. The cost was £1,600,000, raised by shares of £100 each, now worth £207 per share. We have now to speak of the Park which consists of between three and four hundred Acres ranging on the south east- ern side of the town, and we invite the traveller who has a rehsh for the picturesque, to spend a few hours amongst its splendid woods, its mossy slopes and glades. By a slight stretch of imagination he may recall the figure of the luxurious monarch Charles crossing the grounds by stealth and watching for the signal (a flag) which it is said his favorite NeU Gwynn used always to exliibit from a conspicuous part of the house, when she was " at home." In those by- gone times when roads were strangers to Macadamization, we may guess that a journey from the Metropohs on horseback was not so much an every day afiair as to supersede the necessity of precautions being taken to make it agreeable. Tring park therefore, whether for its natural beauties or for its historical recollections, must always be visited with interest by the individual wlio finds pleasure in such reahties. The manor of Tring in recent days, came by purchase from Mr. Guy to Sir Wm. Gore (whose monument in the chancel of the church we have already referred to) who paid the quit rents to Queen Catherine, consort of Charles II. as part of her dowry during her Hfe. Tlie son of Sir William laid out the 94 TRING. park, which remained in the Gore family a considerable time, when it was purchased of the last representative by Drummond Smith Esq. who, in the year 1804 was created a Baronet. It next came by purchase to its present possessor, Mr. Kay. Three hundred acres of the Park are on the Chiltern — the hills which nearly divide the County of Bucks, and run from Tring towards Ivinghoe. They were formerly covered with beech to such a degree, as to be a constant harbour for thieves, which induced LeofFstan, Abbot of St. Albans, to cause the trees to be levelled and thereby destroyed the nuisance. These hills reach from Bedfordshire to Oxfordshire, and form part of the great chain from Norfolk to Dorchester in the latter county. We conclude this chapter with relating, as we find it in " Hughson's Perambulations, " an account of a most extraor- dinary afiair, highly illustrative of the ignorance and credulity of the last century, which happened in this place in the year 1751. Some country people w^ere possessed of an opinion, that an old man and woman of that town, John and Ruth Osborne, were witches, on account of several cattle dying of a contagion which then raged : great numbers of them assembled, some on horseback, and others on foot, and went and had them proclaimed as such, in three different market towns. These unfortunate people were afterwards dragged from the vestry of the church, where they had been concealed, and so severely ducked, that the woman died on the spot, and the man a few days afterwards. Several persons were committed to custody TRING. 95 on the verdict of the Coroner's jury ; and one Thomas Colley (who, though a principal actor in this horrid affair, was prompt- ed by others, and by the hquor which he had drank), was tried at the ensuing assizes for Hertfordshire, and capitally convicted. It came out at the trial that, on the 1 8th of April 1751, one Nichols came to WiUiam DeU, the crier of Hemel Hempstead, and gave him a piece of paper, with four-pence, that he might cry the words written thereon, in the market place. The words were these : " This is to give notice, that on Monday next a man and woman are to be publicly ducked at Tring in this County, for their wicked crimes." Hie overseer of the parish, where these people lived, having heard this cried at Winslow, Leighton Buzzard, and Hemel Hempstead, on the several market days, and being informed that the two people were John Osborne and Ruth his wife, he sent them to the workhouse for safety. The master of the workhouse, to make stiU more secure, removed them, in the middle of the night of the 21st, into the vestry-room of the church, thinking the sanctity of the place would have some awe upon the mob, if they came. However, on the day ap- pointed, more than five thousand people were collected together at Tring, declaring revenge against Osborne and his wife as a wizard and witch : they pulled down a large waU belonging to the workhouse — (the ancient priory) — and demolished the windows and window frames. The master of the workhouse assured them thev were not there ; the mob would not believe 96 TRINO. him, but rushed in and searched the house, the closets, and even the boxes and trunks. They declared they would pull the house down if the victims were not produced, and some proposed set- ting fire to it ; at last they all swore, that, if Osborne and his wife were not dehvered to them, they would not only bum the workhouse, but the whole town of Tring. The master being apprehensive that they would do as they had promised, at length infonned them where the unhappy people were. The mob now went off in triumph, with CoUey at their head. As soon as the mob entered the vestry-room, they seized Osborne and his wife, and carried them to a place called Gubblecote, about two miles off, where not finding a pond to their purpose, they carried them to Wilston Green, and put them into separate rooms in a house there ; they stripped them naked, and tied them up separately in a sheet, but first they crossed the man's legs and arms, and hent his body so as to tie his thumbs to his great toes. When they came to the pond, called Wilston Wear, a rope was tied under the armpits of Ruth Osborne, and two men dragged her into the pond, and through it, and Colley went into the pond, and turned her several times over and over with a stick. After they had ducked the woman, they brought her to land, and then dragged the old man in, and ducked him. Then he was set aside, and the woman ducked again as before, and Colley made the same use of his stick. Then the old man was ducked again. After which the woman was a third time ducked ; and CoUey went into the pond and pulled her about TRING. 97 until the sheet wherein she was wrapped came off, and she ap- peared naked. She expired soon afterwards. Colley then came out of the pond, and went round collecting- monev for the sport he had shewn them in ducking the old witch as he called her. After the woman was dead, the mob carried John Osborne to a house, put him to bed, and laid his dead wife by his side Ruth Osborne was seventy years of age ; John was fifty-six. In consequence of these circumstances of cruelty, Colley was or- dered for immediate execution, and his body was afterwards hung in chains at Gubblecote, in the parish of Tring, three miles off. Another instance of credulity and superstition occurred in this neighbourhood in the year 1759. At Wingrove, one Susannah Hannokes, an elderly woman, was accused by her neighbour of being a witch ; for that she had bewitched her spinning ivheel, so that she could not make it go round, and offered to make oath of it before a magistrate ; on which the husband of the poor woman, in order to justify his wife, insisted upon HER BEING TRIED BY THE Church Bible, and that the accuser should be present : she was conducted by her husband to the ordeal, attended by a great concourse of people, who flocked to the parish church to see the ceremony, w^here she was stripped of her clothes to her shift and under petticoat, and weighed against the Bible ! when to the no small morti- fication of her accuser, she outweighed it, and was ho- nourably acquitted of the charge. This account appeared in the " London Chronicle" Februan.' 27, 1759. K 98 I V I N G H O E The cross roads in this district which are some of the most un- tractable we have seen in all our perambulations are at length destined to undergo a change. We may imagine that instead of, as now, being obliged to visit this interesting little to\\Ti by way of Tring, or to walk along the chalky banks of the Railroad for a mile and a half in a direction parallel, instead of in a straight line, to the point of destination, that a direct road will be cut to Pendley, by which, more tlian a mile of the distance will be saved. It was by no means a common sight, however, to witness the progress of the work on this part of the line, where there is not less than two miles of cutting in the chalk — so deep that mechanical means of a novel character have been IVINGHOE. 99 resorted to for the raising of the soil to the surface. These means consist in the employment of horses to drag the work- men and their wheelbarrows of chalk up an inclined plane at an angle of not less than forty-five degrees, the operation from the bottom to the smface (a space of sixty to seventy feet) oc- cuppng but a few seconds of time, the workman and vehicle being assisted in their still more rapid descent by the backing of the horses and keeping the cable, which passes over a wind- lass, tolerably tight. From the new Bridge over the direct Road from Tring to Ivinghoe, the vie^v of this cutting, spread- ing east and west, and lost in distance, almost amounts to the^ sublime. We recommend a pause of a few minutes on the spot to aU who can admire and appreciate the results of labour by man in congregated numbers . We imagine that at the period of our Aasit, there were upwards of one thousand men employed on the two miles of "cutting" to which we now direct attention. The approach to Ivinghoe is marked by scenery of no mean character. On the north is the Hill (part of the range called the Chiltem Hills) of Ivinghoe, and in the distance on a ridge of the same bleak aspect, rich in stone quarries, is Totternhoe, one and a half miles from Dunstable ; locally these bleak hills are called " downs." Totternhoe is remarkable for a Roman forti- fication called the "Castle" overlooking the village of Stow- bridge in the neighbouring county of Bedford. On the north west the valley sweeps away for ten or twelve miles 100 IVINGHOE. interspersed by the waters of the canal, an artificial although always dehghtful adjunct to valley scenery. The spire of Leighton church, in clear sunshine, wiU rather invite than repel the in- clination to explore its unknown vicinity. At the distance of a mile from Ivinghoe its church may be brought into a hne with that of Pitstone, which stands in the sequestered vale with the simple accompaniments of a farm-house and a few trees. It occurred to us indeed, that the inhabitants of this thinly populated district, must be almost lost by division on Sundays betw^een the two churches of Ivinghoe and Pitstone. The reader will observe that he is now in the County of Buckingham. Ivinghoe can boast at present but of one Inn, the King's Head, the painting of which would not do honor to the Royal Academy. It has a market on Saturdays, granted in 1318 by the Bishop of Winchester, but which has long been so small as to be almost nominal. Situated between two main roads, and consequently being little visited, it has a primitive air, and its dimensions are too small to admit of its association in the mind as a " town," but such it is, and a market town also. In the " olden time " one may imagine that it grew into importance from its being placed on the "Ikenild way," which is stiU one of the high roads of the vicinity, about tvvo furlongs from the town. The "Manor" was given by Edward the Confessor to the see of Winchester. If our reader is a pedestrian, he may obtain one of the finest views in England from the summit IVIXGHOE. 101 of the hill, or in the contrary case, we will endeavour to enter- tain him with less fatigue by a visit to THE CHURCH. In the centre of the middle aisle, stood, until modem times a set of ancient pews of oak, embellished with grotesque car- vings representing objects, which, we may presume, have httle to do with Christian worship — mermaids, dolphins and other " queer fish." These pews are now placed in the the side aisles to make room for modern accommodations of the same cha- racter. On the floor in front of the baptismal font, the Parish Clerk, pointed out to us, the most ancient inscription at present existing in the church, to the memory of one '' lUxit ifony WiaWc, mavuit Ic m tr'^Hai Tan ti' gr. (£t ^aitc ^a feme tiicti Ic binti^mt ]auY tfc V an tf* gr. iB,C€€,5L^ Siicnt ici, Bitu tie Icur ^Imc^ fit mercy." Which may be thus rendered: — '^ Ralph Folly Wolle, died the \Oth day of May ^ in the year of Grace 1349, And Jane his rvife, died the 20th day of January, in the year of Grace, 1260 ; God have mercy on their S)uls." k2 102 IVINGHOE. On the north side of the chancel is an ancient altar tomb with an effigy of the defunct, said to be that of Henry de Blois, Bishop of Winchester, and brother of king Stephen. It is of stone and in tolerably good preser\^ation. From the history of this Prelate, it wiU be learned that there is the strongest pro- bability of the traditionary account of the tomb being perfectly accurate. Besides, we may add, that at Mursley, in Bucks, five miles from Ivinghoe, (near Winslow,) was a mo- nastery which in 1802 was almost entire (and the remains of which may still be seen), founded by this Henry de Blois, which favors the probability of his resting place being that which tradition has assigned it ; and he is said to have had his residence in this parish at Berrystead, now a farm-house on the Bridgewater estate. This Bishop we find from a reference to history, was one of the most turbulent and ambitious prelates of his day. He was the youngest son of Stephen, Earl of Blois, by Adela, the daughter of William the Conqueror. During the reign of Henry the first, the eldest son of the Earl, being sent into England gained the good graces of that monarch, who, not content with conferring honours on his nephew Stephen, sent for his younger brother Henry, then a monk in the monastery of Clugni, who, on reaching this country, was made by him first Abbot of Glastonbury, and afterwards Bishop of Winchester. By this bounty it would seem, the king hoped to strengthen his daughter Matilda, to whom he wished his crown should iVlXGttOB. lOS descend. The gratitude of his nephews did not produce the desired effect. Though Stephen was the first to swear fealty to the princess, no sooner was the king on his death bed, than the brothers, unmindful of the wishes of their royal benefactor, opposed her interest. Stephen claimed the throne, and his brother Henry having prevailed on the Archbishop of Canter- bury and the Bishop of Salisbury to favour his views, on the 22nd of December 1135, (or according toRapin, December 26, 1 136,) he became King of England. But the Bishops, through whom he gained his advancement, in consequence of his severely exacting obedience to the law, from them and their adherents, soon became the enemies of his power. He insisted upon their giving up their castles, and the Bishop of Winchester then distinguished himself by the bold opposition which he offered to his king. He had been made legate to the Pope and invested with that dignity, considered himself to be an ecclesiastical sovereign, and as such entitled to exercise power not less extensive than that which belonged to the civil monarch of the realm, and he therefore determined to vindicate the privileges of the church, which in his judgment, Stephen had violated. With this view, he called a synod at Westminster, before which he arraigned the impiety of Stephen, who had proceeded to punish the dignitaries of the clergy without waiting for the sentence of a spiritual court. He exhorted the prelates vigorously to assert their privileges, and induced the svnod to send a summons to the kinsr, calling: 104 IVINGHOE. upon him to appear before them to vindicate his measures. ■ Stephen, in consequence, sent Aubrey de Vere to plead his cause, who, in doing so, charged the leading prelates with trea- son. The synod refused to listen to this, unless the castles, of which they had been dispossessed by the king, were first re- stored. The Bishop of Salisbury intimated that the malediction of the church might be expected, and that he would appeal to the Pope. De Vere then took a higher tone, and declared that if they ventured to excommunicate the king, they should soon have reason to repent it, and if any of their reverend body ventured on this occasion to proceed to Rome, they would never be permitted to return. Awed in some measure by this firmness, the synod abated its pretensions, and took no stronger step than adopting a resolution, that the Archbishop of Canter- bury and the Bishop of Winchester should wait on the king to demand reparation. These dissensions encouraged Matilda, the daughter of the late King, to invade England and to claim the sovereign power. She was at first successful, and Stephen had the misfortune to become her prisoner. In his distress, many of the Barons went over to Matilda. Then it was, that he who sleeps at Ivinghoe, became indeed important. Matilda felt that in those days, the sovereign could not hope for security, unless he had the support of the Clergy, and was therefore most anxious to gain the Bishop of Winchester. For this purpose she held a conference with him on an open plain near Winchester, where she offered. IVINGHOE. 105 confirming- the promise by an oath, that if he reco^^ised her as the rightful Sovereign, and would return to that allegiance, which he, with the other bishops had previously sworn, he should be the sole master of the administration, and should have all vacant bishopricks and abbeys placed at his disposal. Guarantees having been given on her part for the due observ- ance of these engagements, he whoUy abandoned the cause of his brother, and promised to use his best exertions to gain for her the suffrages of the rest of the Clergy. This arranged, he received her on the next day at Winchester with great pomp, and there solemnly absolved all the adherents of Stephen from their oaths, denounced those who denounced her, cursing them with bell, book and candle, and blessing those who blessed her. On this and on subsequent occasions, the bishop did not spare the King. He said, " Stephen had been permitted to reign in the absence of the rightful Sovereign, having promised to honour and exalt the church, to maintain the laws and effect aU needful reforms. He, however, it affected him to add, had for- gotten his promises and his God. Though grieved to condemn a brother, duty to his heavenly father, rendered this unavoid- able, and he therefore proclaimed Matilda, Queen." Shortly after he convened a synod, whom he addressed in the same strain. " Divine providence " he declared, "had given sen- tence against the King, God's judgments had fallen on him," and therefore said he in conclusion — " I have convened, by virtue of the apostolic power confided to me, this body to consult on the 106 IVINGHOE. means of appeasing the troubles of the state. This affair has already been debated in the presence of the greater part of the clergy, who beyond all dispute have a principal share in the election of Kings, and we, after mature delijberation, have de- termined to acknowledge Matilda, daughter to the incomparable King Henry, for queen and sovereign of England . To such a pitch did he carry his hostihty to the King, that he even opposed the reading of a letter presented to the synod, from the queen of Stephen, praying that her husband might be set at liberty, but Matilda, by her haughty deportment, soon offended the bishop, in common with the whole kingdom. The facihty with which he could change sides, was again displayed, the moment he found the friends of his brother once more be- coming the stronger party. He conspired against Matilda, and formed a plot to seize her person. She discovered his treachery and fled from the danger, and is said to have eluded the vigil- ance of her enemies, by causing herself to he conveyed frorn Devizes to Gloucester in a coffin. The Bishop of Winchester now wrote to the Pope to obtain his sanction to the steps he was taking in favour of his brother. This obtained, he appeared at a council called at Westminster, with the letter of the Holy father in his hand, defended the consistency and integrity of his own conduct, and concluded by excommunicating all who should thenceforth take part with Matilda. Stephen, now restored to power, probably thought it prudent IVINGHOE. 107 not again to offend the prelate, who continued actively to support his authority. Early in the year 1143 he summoned a council at London, where, in the presence of the King he called on the Bishops to exert themselves more vigorously than they had previously done, to put an end to the war which then raged. He obtained from them a promise of more energetic support, on the King's granting certain conditions for the future regu- lation of the church, most favourable to the clergy. Little mention is made of the Bishop after this. The arrangement concluded between Stephen and Matilda, under which, on the death of the former, the son of the latter was to succeed to the throne, it may be presumed, left him no opportunity for profitably changing sides again, or age perhaps made him more attentive to his religious duties, and less anxious to distinguish himself on the political stage. It is but justice to add, that if his conduct appears to modern notions little in accordance with that meekness, purity, and love of peace, which should characterize a christian minister, while we condemn his turbulence, his disregard of oaths, and generally, his pursuing a line of conduct equall}^ at variance with truth, loyalty and honour, it is on record, that he was not wholly unmindful of the claims of charity. A mile south from Winchester, the venerable hospital of the holy cross still does honour to his name. " The luftv tov/er" observes Dr. Milner "the grated door, the porter's lodge beneath it, the retired ambulatory, the separate cells, the common refectory, the venerable church, the flowing black 108 IVINGHOE. dress, and the silver cross worn by the members, the conventual appellation "brother," with which they address one another, the silence, the order, the neatness in short, that reign here , seem to recall the idea of a monastery, to those who have s een one, and will give no imperfect idea of such an establishment, to those who have not had that advantage. But this estabhsh- ment was never a monastery, being only an hospital originally founded by Bishop Henry de Blois between 1132 and 1136, for the residence and maintenance of thirteen poor men and the rehef of a hundred others of the most indigent of the city, but of creditable character. Each of these was to be provided daily with a loaf of bread, three quarts of small beer, and two messes for his dinner, in a hall appointed for the purpose. In the hospital was an endowment for a master, a steward, four chaplains, thirteen clerks and seven choristers. " * The church being in the form of the Latin Cross, there are two chapels, in both of which are ancient incriptions on the floor. Y\^e give them verbatim et literatim, beginning with that on the north side. ?^rrc Ipctib untfcr rt)t^ ^tonr, tljc hatsyit at WiiUmm Buncamht (gentleman, iol^a I)ati ttoo Inubc^, ;^ar|) antf ^lirc, luTjo IfcrcajSctr 26 ^ctoScr, 1576, antr i)atf iiiuc 5g l^i^ first tDjjfc, ti)rcc ^oanrsf * It is but justice to other historians to add, that Hughson in his " perambulations, '' intimates that the monument in question appeared to him of too modern a date, and might belong to a " Peter Chaceport," an opinion not supported however by any authority. IVINGHOE. 109 iraufli^tcril, total, fifteen children ! The inscription is in brass, and there are effigies not only of the worthy WiUiam Duncombe and his two *' wyves" but of all their fifteen descendants, whose names are appended to each figure in scrolls. In the opposite chapel is another inscription as follows : — tD^irf) Ba'tftx ircccaslctf 26 Beer. 1694, Bcmfl at t^t age of 90 grar^ KViis t^tv I)atr i^^ut four ^antxei aiilf i^xtt traujji^tcr^— ^030:, f^enrg, d^nma^, WtiUmm, ^lijalbet]^, ^ue, antr ^Q}itS, The " Buncombes " were the possessors of Barley End Estate, near Aldbury (in which parish the Pendley station is situated), for many centuries. It must be evident, from these examples, that the air of this sequestered country in former days was conducive both to longevity and long famihes. The Buncombes, William and John, having numbered between them, no less than twenty-two children ! and the latter living to the age of ninety years. Amongst the "rubbish" of the church — [vide the chapter on Leighton Buzzard p 1 1 7] there is the oak desk, which in CathoHc times supported the books during worship — and an *' old oak chest" for depositing therein the properties of the Priests. The pulpit is of a carved oak in very excellent L 110 IVINOHOE. preservation, and the roof is throughout of the same material, blanched by time, and a moist atmosphere. There are in the chancel, ten figures of angels bearing escutcheons, and the same number of Saints. The centre aisle is also furnished in a similar manner—but the chief gem of this unique little edifice is the iron bracket close to the pulpit in which used to be suspended the "hour glass," to warn the preacher when to close his sermon. We are not aware of the existence of a similar rehc in any church in England, Ill LEIGHTON BUZZARD This ancient town stands on the right of the Railway, at a dis- tance of one mile, and within that short space the Grand Junction Canal and the river (the Ousel) both intervene. It is situated on the very confines of Bedfordshire — the Ousel separating this county from Bucks. From London its distance by the old road of forty- one miles, is reduced by the Railway (which has here gained three miles upon the ancient means ol communication) to thirty-eight miles. The place is supposed to have been the ancient Lygeanhury of the Saxon Chronicle, and "Buzzard" to be a modem corruption of the name of a family in the neighbourhood, called Beaudesert. The market is on Tuesday, and is the most ancient in the county, A Londoner fresh from Cheapside or Regent Street, cannot fail to be struck with the air of the streets, where the ancient houses, ribbed with oak, intermixed with brick, gable ends, and thatch, 112 LEIGHTON BUZZARD. still predominate over the more modem erections. The Manor is held on lease under the church of Windsor, and was origin - ally granted by Henry II., to the abbess and nuns of Font Everard in Normandy, who in return for this favour, established a ceU for nuns at Grovebury, in the parish ofLeighton. Besides this ahen priory, it is asserted on the authority of Bishop Turner, that there was a house for Cistercian monks (the same order as the nuns at Font Everard) which was a ceU to Woburn Abbey. This fraternity probably occupied the monastery, the remains of which may be seen in Broad Street — one of the rehcs of by- gone days, worthy of a visit from the antiquarian. The attention, however, is first arrested by the ancient Gothic Cross in the market place, about which so much has been written, and which has unconsciously stood (not sat) to paint- ers and sketchers of every generation during many centuries. It is of a pentagonal form, and has as many effigies in niches in its upper story. That it was a religious cross there can be no doubt, seeing that a prelate, a saint (probably St. John). and the virgin and child, are amongst the personages sculp- tured, and last, not least, a King. Local enquiry leads only to vague replies as to its origin, for whilst some assert that to be unknown — others inform you it is one of the crosses raised by Edward I., to the memory of his beloved and faithful consort. Queen Eleanor. Very little explanation is required to set this latter opinion at rest in the negative. Leighton Buzzard is situated entirely out of the line of the ancient Watling Street, CROSS AT LEIGHTON BUZZARD IX BEDFORDSHIRE RESTORED. i LEIGHTON BUZZARD. 113 which runs east and west about five miles to the northward of the town. The Queen died at Hardeley, near Grantham, in Lincolnshire, and her body brought to London, to be deposited in Westminster Abbey, rested at Lincoln, Grantham, Stamford, Geddington, Northampton, Stony Stratford, Dunstable (about six miles from Leighton), St. Alban's, Walthamand Charing (then a village near London), at aU which places crosses were erected, of which only three now remain, those at Geddington, Northampton and Waltham. It is only necessary to obsene upon the improbability of the procession with the royal body, making a " detour " of five miles from the main road, into a count\', then, if we may judge of that fact by what it is now, almost impassable as respects its cross roads. We may therefore add that by whom, or for whatever purpose this cross was erected is not correctly known. The probability is, that it has stood for six or seven centuries, as we find that in the year 1650 it was presented at the Court-leet of the town as being in such a ruinous state as greatly to endanger the Uves of passengers, and a rate of four-pence was levied upon every inhabitant to defray the expense of repairing it. The height of the cross is twenty-seven feet from the top of the stone work to the base- ment story, which is seven and a half feet from the ground, and is reached by five rows of stone steps. It is highly orna- mented externally, and the internal sculpture is in a state of preservation which reflects great credit upon the administration of the four-penny rate above alluded to. In the year 1801, l2 114 LEIGHTON BUZZARD. Leighton contained (exclusive of the Hamlets of Heath, BiUington, Egginton and Chpston) 376 houses and 1963 inhabi- tants. Unlike most ancient towns, it is gradually increasing in population, the present number being estimated at 4,000, of which a large proportion are quakers. Its prosperity in late years, may doubtless be traced to the immense traffic of the Grand Junction Canal, from which it derives considerable advantages, to its excellent market — and to its fairs, six in number, in each vear. About half a mile from the town, on the " heath " is an enclosure, nearly circular, containing several fields surrounded by a ditch, deep in many parts, which has very much the appearance of having been a Roman encampment. At the lower part of the town, on the bank of the river, is a delightful walk, of about three quarters of a mile in extent — the most pleasant promenade, so far as we could discover, in the neighbourhood. THE CHURCH.* Should the visitor have already seen the church of Ivinghoe, he wiU be struck with the similarity of the constniction of the two, the bleached oak roof of one, is in fact an exact type of the other, except that the scale is much larger at Leighton. * The sexton is James Elkerton. It should be observed that all sextons and clerks being part and parcel of the church, are generally to be found domiciled in its immediate vicinity. LEIGHTON BUZZARD. 115 The survey in Doomsday Book states the rectory of Leighton Buzzard, then the property of Remigins, Bishop of Lincoln, to consist of four hides of land. The rectorial manor is now a prebendal corps in that church to which the said Bishop collates. The stalls of massive oak, carved, and bearing the escutch- eons of their former occupants (a study of itself to those who have leisure) have an air of commodious dignity contrasting strangely with the modern conveniency of pews. The oldest monument in the Church is on the north side of the chancel, placed in the wall at an elevation which precludes its being deciphered without the aid of a ladder. It is a simple inscription on a brass plate to the memory of William Jackmann of Billington (two miles from the town of Leighton on the south east), who deceased in 1597. The rude oak seats placed before the stalls for the accommodation of the commonaht}^ in the days they were in use, it may as a matter of curiosity, be worthy of remark, are covered .with dates and initials cut with knives in the style of the present day — as will be remembered by those who visit our public monuments and promenades, or in cases where the material is too hard for the knife, the more ephemeral system of " pencilling" is put in requisition, to the admiration of aU foreigners. We observed dates so cut of 1724 and 1725. Leaving the chancel, and other monuments, both of an ancient and costly character (within the rails), we wish to direct attention to the chapel in the south transept. 116 LEIGHTON BUZZARD. where on the left hand is one of the curiosities in the shape of a mural " table, " only to be met with in primitive sections of the country — in its "bye ways" — not in its "high ways." Two leaves of oak fold over a third fixed to the wall, and the five sides thus created are inscribed in gold letters with a list of the donations of the individual, one "Edward Wilkes of Leighton, Gentleman, who in the year 1 630 built the Alms houses in the north end of the towne and gave them for poor aged people to dwell in, not exceeding the number of sixteene." In 1631 "he gave the said ' table' and therein inserted the charity of the former benefaction, and in 1638 he gave the cedar pulpit (still existing) and a purple velvet cushion for the use of the minister." In the year 1646 at his death, by his will and testament " he gave for ever two closes near the bridge, of the value of six pounds six shillings and eightpence yearly, of which to be laid out in gowns and caps for the poor in his Alms houses, five pounds, six shillings and eightpence, and for a sermon on 24th March, for ever, ten shillings — and the other ten shillings to be spent in a dinner." On the opposite side of the same transept are other ancient tables recording donations to the Church and poor, one of them surmounted by an escutcheon and an ancient helmet of iron — the whole being in admirable keeping with the antiquity of the Church. A gallery at the west end of the nave speaks for itself, it having been " erected at the sole expence of the inhabitants of the towne and parish in the year 1634." and looks as if it would LEIGHTON BUZZARD. 117 stand two centuries more without demanding great repairs. We were about to leave the interior of the Church (not without enquiring, however, if we had seen all the objects worthy of notice,) when we were directed by the sextoness to the north transept, although, as she said, it contained nothing but " rub- bish." Amongst the " rubbish" was a stone coffin, dug up on the spot about two years ago where it had probably lain many centuries. It contained the remains of a human being, who it may be presumed from the care and expense bestowed on his interment was of no mean importance while ahve. The coffin which is very sohd, measures six feet and a half in the clear from end to end within, and at the upper end a stone block is placed, in which a hoUow was cut to receive the head. The bones were committed again to the earth, beneath the spot on which the coffin now rests. No inscription or tradition preserves the name of its ancient tenant. Anthony Schlater, a divine of some note in the seventeeth Century enjoyed the vicarage of this Church fifty years and lived to near a hundred. From the roof of the nave a view is obtained of the surrounding country, the river Ousel, the Canal, and the new feature in the landscape — the embankment of the Railroad. The Curfew, (or " eight o'clock beU") is rung during the winter months, except on " saints' days." There is also a bell tolled at four o'clock every morning throughout the year — the reminiscence probably, of the " matins " of the Romish church. The family of the Leigh's possess the Manor, one of whom, the Honourable 118 LEIGHTON BUZZARD. Mr. Leigh, built a school in the town in 1790, and endowed it with twenty pounds a year. The Alms houses before spoken of, as built by Edward Wilkes in 1630, are an interesting specimen of that kind of substantial charity. The building is uniform, flanked by walls at both ends, enclosing gardens, and on the front of the houses, as also of the garden walls, are a variety of inscriptions, some of them amusingly quaint. The following may be taken as specimens : Ert not ijratDl nax tbil tammxtnimtian^ "bt httixittnt goit, but sttttrj) t0 bt quiet tbtvv ant tratus Ijis" olune bxtiinc^i, SmialBflm. 1667 " I^Dc 0pii^ Baminty nan nostra icts tua tftcamu^ ^Inrta ** ** JFrom tlje rage at fin: antf ijantrjS of bialmce Qaati ^av'a irelilier ui,** From the terms of the grant of the said Edward Wilkes, we expected to find at least " sixteene poor aged people " inhabi- tants of these Alms houses, but the actual number is only eight, who, we are informed, besides living rent free, were provided with firing — five shillings a week in money, and a pair of shoes per annum. We did nor hear of their being provided with " gownes and caps " out of the rents and revenues of " the two closes near the bridge " granted by the worthy Wilkes for that express purpose. LEIGHTON BUZZARD. 119 To turn, however, from the Hving to the dead, we have not forgotten the Stone Coffin, now resting (so far as those are concerned to whom its keeping is committed) neglected among the Imnber of the church. That its inhabitant was a personage of importance may be assumed fi*om the mode of burial, and when we walk along the antiquated streets of this old town, and regard its Cross, the origin of which is involved in obscurity, fancy may connect the " Unknown," who once slept the occupant of the coffin, with this more conspicuous rehct of antiquity which has equally withstood the assaults of time, and become an object of mysterious interest to the stranger. Under the influence of sentiments of this nature, we have been tempted again to depart from " plain prose," and to present our readers with a few playful stanzas written by one of the visitors recently attracted to Leighton Buzzard, and addressed TO THE SKELETON FOUND IN THE STONE COFFIN. Ex-tenant of yon massy bed. Now after reigns so many sped Of Emperors, Queens and Kings, Would I might hear thy tongue proclaim What thou wast once — thy rank — thy name — Thy thoughts on men and things. 120 LEIGHTON BUZZARD. " I guess," as Jonathan would say. Thou wast a big wig in thy day ; One of no mean estate ; Nay, I can fancy that I see Proof that it was thy lot to be. What foolish men call " Great." Great ! ah ! how misapplied the word, (Unmeaning — arrogant — absurd !) To aught in life's brief span ; What greatness, or what real power Belongs to the frail human flower. Weak, tottering, helpless man ? What if a prelate's vestments fair. The crozier and the mitre's glare Were thine, and promised fame ! All learning, genius and success. Could to ambition's service press, Have not preserved thy name ! Deeds of renown, or noble birth Denied thee rest in common earth. When 'twas thy turn to fall ; A ponderous mass the quarry gave. Thy head to pillow in the grave, But what availed it all ! LEIGHTON BUZZARD. 121 *' O, not in silver, not in gold Inter me, but in kindred mould," Of Cyrus was the prayer. If different were thy costly whim. What he desired thou shar'st with him. Despite of foolish care. The pomp and splendour once thy boast. The homage of a menial host. The crowd's applauding roar. Saves thee not from the common lot. The lowest hind unknown can rot. And thou hast done no more. Rude hands the remnant of thy clay Have dragged untimely to the day To make a vulgar show. That o'er, defrauded of its stone. It now again to darkness thrown, Uncoflfin'd rests below. Well ! if thy ghost, these insults spied. Has still a touch of earth-born pride. While thus severely chid. Know that the Pharaohs great and proud. Are snatched to please a gaping crowd From regal pyramid, M 122 LEIGHTON BUZZARD, In mockery of pride so vain. Mere merchandise across the main. Torn from their native sand. To grace bazaars or studios here. Or fall before an auctioneer. In Bond Street or the Strand. But why should thought to Egypt roam > Forgotten are the proud at home. View Leighton's town cross grey ; There gaze upon the great unknoum, Saints, warriors, monarchs, carved in stone. Ah ! tell me who were they ? Who raised that pile with curious care Say ? for no chronicles declare. Perhaps, thy story lost Withholds from us. the founder's name : Thine, " Rubbish" now, might be the same With his who built the cross. But thou no longer hast to learn. All, the same destiny in turn. Encounter one day must ; Whate'er the pranks of wealth and state. Each bending to the doom of fate. At last yields " dust to dust." LEIGHTON BUZZARD. 123 Small is the space 'twixt you and me, 'Twixt me and those who are to be — I'm present — you are gone ; What matters ? — here, I cannot stay. Nor those who follow — then away — Time, let thy train move on. 124 mCKMANSWORTH [ The following chapter belongs properly to the Watford station, on the journey from London to Birmingham. From Watford it is distant but three miles. The irregularity of its insertion here, it is hoped will be pardoned.] RicKMANswoRTH is E town in Hertfordshire, by the old road, eighteen miles from London. It had a market granted by Henry HL for the benefit of the monastery of St. Albans, which has now been discontinued. In the earliest records, the town is named Rykemeresworth, and also Richmeresweard. In Doomsday- Book it is called RICKMANSWORTH. 125 Prichernareivorde : by Clutterbuck Rickmersworth. Its ancient designations signified that it was placed on rich-moor -meadow - ground. It is now written Rickmansworth. The manor formed part of a demesne of the Saxon kings, and was bestowed, as weU as many other manors in the vicinity, by Offa on the abbot and monks of St. Albans. Its antiquity is thus estabhshed. Through the valley in which it is situated, flow the rivers Colne and Gade, and also the Chess, which, in its subsequent course gives name to Chesham in Buckingham- shire ; aU rivers noted for trout and other palateable fish, and much frequented by anglers. Small as is the town, it enjoys some celebrity for manufactures, amongst which, that of Paper stands first — and afterwards Straw-Plait, and Horse-Hair seats for chairs. Water-Cresses for the London Market, are also "cultivated" extensively. Its distance from the Watford station is about three miles and a half along a pleasant road, skirted for a mile on the right by Cashiobury Park, the seat of the Earl of Essex, at the end of wliich the Grand Junction Canal intersects the road, and enters the aforesaid domain through which it flows for several miles. It is worthy of remark, that the road winds in all directions, going from as often as towards the town, and wiU furnish at some distant dav, a marvellous instance of road- making, in comparison with the modem invention, which has led us from home, to discover the difierence between one and the other. We must not omit to state that the market -house, being no m2 126 RICKMANSWORTH. longer wanted as such, has been removed entire some paces from the main street, and has become the Parochial School. It is not often that we hear of buildings in tliis country being moved from one place to another, like a log hut in Canada. The visitor to this town, will be gratified by a sight of the celebrated STAINED GLASS WINDOW m the East end of the Church, probably as fine a specimen of that art as this country can afibrd. Anxious to learn from whence so precious a rehc came, we consulted various hving and dead authorities. Their testimony is as foUows : — The clergyman of the church in which it is placed, informed us that it was obtained /rom France. The clerk of the same church reported that it came from London, and was made on purpose for Rickmansworth. From " Lewis's Topographical Dictionary," published in 1831 (which professes to treat also of Railroads), we learn that the said window originally belonged to »S'^. Peter's at Rome; and was purchased in Paris in the year 1800, for two hundred pounds. Clutterbuck in his " History of Hertfordshire," gives, how- ever, a " histoid " of this window, which is believed to be the RICKMANSWORTH. 127 correct one, according to which, it was brought from the church of St. John, at Rouen in Normandy, where it had shone as the ornament of a window at the end of the choir, and was rescued from the grasp of Revolution, by the veneration of its owner. The descriptive particulars at the foot of the annexed plate detail its histor\', and the engraving and colouring will give some idea of the general effect, produced by this noble relic of a beautiful art. THE CHURCH, which is of Saxon origin, has been lately renovated. A series of wooden columns of the rustic order, spring from the galleries, but whether they are intended merely as ornaments, or as supports to the roof of the church, cannot well be decided without consulting the architect. It may be remarked, however, that nothing more ugly in the way of columns was ever fabricated. Within the rails of the altar, inserted in the wall, is the fragment of a monument to the memor}^ of Thomas Fotherly (and Tabitha his wife) who died in 1649. This Sir Thomas Fotherly was one of the gentlemen of the Pri\-v' Chamber to King Charles I., and a commissioner for letting and selling Londonderr\- in Ireland. He, in return for these marks of royal favour, and probably from motives of personal attachment. 128 RICKMANSWORTH. contributed his pecuniary aid, during the rebeUion, to the cause of his unfortunate sovereign, who by these private loans was enabled for a length of time to carry on the government, independently of the Parliament. The eldest son of the above Thomas, John Fotherly, Esq., appears to have been animated by the same principles of loyalty as his father, having advanced to Charles 11. the sum of one hundred pounds, for which the following acknowledgement was given : " I doe acknowledge to have received the summe of One Hundred Pounds sterHng of I. F. which I doe promis to repay as soone as I am able. Bruges, 21 December, 1657 Charles R. On the opposite side of the Altar, there is a mural monument con- sisting of two marble Tables, with arms sculptured in bold relief, supported by Bulls, and surmounted by an Earl's coronet — to the memory of the Right Honourable Henry Carey, Earl of Monmouth, who died 13th of June, 1661. On the floor of the nave, in a ruined condition, is the oldest monument now existing in the church. It is of brass, and represents an aged RICKMANSWORTH. 129 man holding a book in one hand, and a walking stick in the other, between his two wives. The inscription runs thus : — ^,ext Xytfi) "bxtvicis tnttrcr i^i^ ^tant ^ntf ^t^ ttD0 MbtS ^litt antf BoKXi ^^t timt^ l^crc see yau mag €i)c^c ti)xce no ^aubt ^atr fatl^ in €l)xi^t Cl^ctr s'insf fax ta faxQibt ^liis i^cvi can UU itxi)a fentto tT;^m fXieU HL'^t jJOflr tTjey Ifttr r^ltcb^. mitt > (10 gtitt^ 1585 ^amx > Ucrta^Etf -< 6 <^\ttr. 1598 Cl^onta^ 3 (10 Sulg 1613 130 BUCKINGHAMSHIRE. The Railroad now taking a diagonal line, in its progress towards the midland county of Northampton, traverses, without interruption, the county of Buckingham in its widest part. We therefore deem it useful to preface the details which will result from our pedestrian observations, by a brief general history of this county, which is not less remarkable for its agricultural character, and the improvements it has undergone in late years, than for its having been a favourite section of the country with our Roman conquerors, as is evinced by frequent discoveries of the remains of the works of that great people. It has Northamptonshire on its northern, and Oxfordshire on its western side, and is forty- five miles in length, eighteen in breadth, and one hundred and thirty- eight in circuit. The principal rivers are the Thames, BUCKINGHAMSHIRE. 131 by which the county is divided, for about twenty -eight miles from Berkshire ; the Colne, for about fourteen-miles, by which it is separated from Middlesex ; and the Ouse, which has a course or not less than fifty miles, either as a boundary, or in traversing the county. These rivers receive several tributary streams, and almost all abound in fish. The county has also the benefit of the Grand Junction Canal, which enters it near Wolverton, and is carried across the river Ouse, by an aqueduct, three quarters of a mile in length, after which it enters Hertfordshire, near Bulboume. An Act was passed in seven- teen hmidred and ninety-four, for making several ** cuts" from different places to join it ; in consequence of which, one called the " Navigable Feeder," has been made from the canal at Bulbourne to Wendover ; another from Old Stratford to Buckingham, and a third from Marsworth to Aylesbury. The south-eastern part of the county is hilly, being occupied by the Chiltern hills and their appendages, on which are considerable woods and plantations of beech. The other parts of the county, particularly the vale of Aylesbury, are noted for fertilit\'. Marble is quarried, at a considerable depth, near Newport -Pagnell, and petrifactions of different marine produc- tions are sometimes found. The celebrated Fuller's-earth pits at Wavendon, on the borders of Bedfordshire, about two miles north of Woburn and three miles north-east of Fenny Stratford, are particularly desennng of notice. Only one of these pits, however, is now occasionallv worked in a close shaft, the 132 . BUCKINGHAMSHIRE. dealers having got into a practice of procuring an article of inferior quality, from other parts of the hundred, which they sell as the produce of this neighbourhood. Ochre is obtained at BriU, six miles from Thame, and used for painting, and also small quantities of amber, but there is no mineral of any importance. Buckinghamshire is celebrated for corn and cattle, which are its principal produce. Great numbers of oxen are fed in the vale of Aylesbury, and, together with vast quantities of butter, are sent to the metropohs. The largest sheep of England, are said to have been formerly bred in the same district, but this is no longer a distinction of the county. Its chief manufactures are lace and paper. The former has been long estabhshed, but of old it was remarked of the inhabitants, that more live by the lands than by the hands, which is stiU the case ; for Buckingham is not to be considered a manufacturing county. Many of the poorer classes of females, are occupied in lace making, of that description known by the name of pillow or thread lace, but this branch of industry has almost entirely succumbed to the superior cheapness of an article, nearly as durable, and now brought to the highest state of perfection, at Nottingham, manu^ factured by steam machinery, — ^however, this handicraft and the plaiting of straw, employ almost the whole of the women and girls in the county. There are schools for teaching the art, whither children are sent at a very early age, and at eleven or twelve vears old, are able to gain a livehhood. A cotton BUCKINGHAMSHIRE. 133 manufactory is established at Amersham. Buckinghamshire is di\dded into eight hundreds, containing two hundred parishes, and fifteen market-towns as follows : — Buckingham, Colnebrook, Aylesbury, Ivinghoe, Amersham, Great Marlow, Beaconsfield, Newport-Pagnell, Chesham, Olney, Stoney-Stratford, Risborough, Wycombe, Wendover, WiNSLOW. The markets in some are at present very inconsider- able. Many fine seats are within its precincts, among which, Stowe, belonging to the marquis of Buckingham, Bulstrode, Wilton Park, and Wycombe Abbey, especially merit notice. Antiquities, occasionally discovered, such as a Mosaic pavement, coins, and fi'agments of arms, prove that the Romans have been established here. Roman roads may be traced in it, and there are also some remains of their militarv stations, though they are not very perceptible. A considerable mound of earth, called Grimesdike * (which seems a common * Or " Grimesditch " — as these ramparts are called by Dr. Stukely. The most remarkable one within our recollection, runs over the country near to Woodyates Inn in Dorsetshire, between Salisbury and Exeter on the Bridport road. These ramparts are supposed to have been thrown up before Caesar's time, and several of them now serve to divide Counties N 134 BUCKINGHAMSHIRE. appellation for an ancient rampart), traverses part of it in a direction from east to west. The remains of a circular camp, with a double vallum and ditch, appear on the top of the hill at West Wycombe, and those of another at High Wycombe. A cross, standing on the side of a hill near the hamlet of Whiteleaf, is supposed to be intended to commemorate a battle, fought by Edward the Elder against the Danes. In the churches at Chetwode, Chesham Bois, Hicham and HiUesden, are some of the earliest and most elegant specimens of stained glass in the kingdom. The church of Stukely is particularly deserving of notice, as affording one of the most complete specimens of Saxon architecture now remaining. Some etymologists derive the name of this county, though without any satisfactory foundation, from Bocken, or Bucken, signifying beech trees, which were always abundant here ; others from Buccen, Bucks, or Deer. Camden supposes that, in the time of the Britons, it was inhabited by a people called Cattienchlany , or Cassii, the subjects of Cassivelanus . Whitaker, however, restricts their occupation to only a small portion of it, thinking that the rest was inhabited by a different tribe. Its early history, however, is involved in absolute conjecture and obscurity. Edward the Elder is known to have erected a fortress at Buckingham, about the year nine hundred and twelve, or nine hundred and eighteen. It was the theatre of the civil wars, in the contest between King John and his barons, in the thirteenth century ; and hostile parties were again here, in the troubles attending the reign of Charles the First. BUCKINGHAMSHIRE. 135 We learn from the preceding that " Antiquities in coins, mosaics and fragments," are occasionally discovered in this county, and it is difficult to guess what antiquarian treasures may be now hidden beneath its soil, for we observed with pleasure in the public prints, early in January last, the following announcement : — " The remains of a Roman Villa have been recently discovered within two miles of Buckingham, on the road to Stoney Stratford, on a farm belonging to his Grace the Duke of Buckingham, who has given directions that the whole of the foundation shall be explored. Already a frigidarium and caldarium (cold and warm baths) have been discovered, lined with red-coloured stucco, and a great quantity of loose tessarae, which composed the floor of one of the adjoining rooms, probably the apodyterium or undressing room. Large square hollow tiles, which had evidently been used as flues to warm the sudatoria or sweating-rooms, have also been dug out. Within these few days, another floor, composed of coarse red tessarge, has been exposed, and a coin found, with the reverse bearing the cross and the Alpha and Omega, indicating that it was struck subsequently to the time of Constantine, and probably b^' one of his sons, or the usurper Decontius, whose head and coin it most resembles, though the inscription is illegible. Within a mile of this Villa are two tumuli or barrows, supposed to contain the remains of Roman generals ; they do not appear to have been opened, and as they are situated on the property of the Duke of Buckingham, it is probable they will be examined. Bishop Kennett, in his " Parochial Antiquities," states that Buckingham must have been a place of considerable antiquity, as the spot near which the 136 BUCKINGHAMSHIRE. Roman General Aulus Plautius, surprised and routed the Britons, under the command of Caractacus and Togodumnus, the sons of Cunobelin, And it is probable the barrows above alluded to, may be the almost imperishable monuments of that event. The town was celebrated in early Saxon times as the burial place of St. Rumbald, who was born at King's Sutton, and who, according to a Popish legend, lived only three days ; but during a short time after birth declared himself a Christian, and bequeathed his body after death to Sutton for one year, to Brackley for two years, and then to Buckingham for ever. Pilgrims came in crowds to his shrine and well, which still exist." We leave this part of our subject, however, for the present, to continue our journey from the station next beyond Leighton Buzzard. 137 DENBIGH HALL. Some of the London travellers who had indulged in magnificent ideas of the splendour expected to be found at this station, were a httle disappointed on their arrival. They asked with eager anxiety, not unmingled wdth a touch of the pathetic, which was the way to the Hall ? The answers they received, conveyed to them the starthng inteUigence, that they might as well have urged the same question at Vaux/za//. Mr. Edgington undertook to console all comers on the first day for the absence of any spacious building, such as many had supposed was there to be found, by erecting an immense tent at the temporary station of the Company. It was calculated to accommodate many hundreds of people, but was not required after the opening, as the attraction of the vicinity was not so great, as to cause that vast influx of company which had been anticipated. 138 DENBIGH HALL. The modest inn or public-house which had been established there, though its powers of entertaining are not on the largest scale, was almost equal to the needful supply of aU visitors, in the first week after this stage of the undertaking had been completed. But whence the name of Denbigh Hall ? it has been asked, and may be asked again. The question can be answered with- out an etymological reference to some Saxon origin. It appears that many years ago, the accounts vary as to date, from half a centmy to a whole one ; a Lord Denbigh and part of his family passing that way, met with an accident, which was more common in those days than in our time, — his carriage broke down. The spot from which few human habitations can now be seen, was a perfect solitude then, with the exception offered by one cottage and its inmates, an aged couple, a shepherd and shepherdess, who were then the occupants, and to whom the noble lord and his lady applied for aid in their distress. Nor was the application made in vain. " The wicket, opening with a latch. Received the noble pair," and all that kindly feeling and humble hospitahty could offer, was readily accorded. The lordly guests, exulting in having escaped from serious danger, enjoyed the novelty of their situation, and liberally requited the attentions of their humble host and hostess. By their bounty, the friendly roof which had received them on this occasion, was repaired and enlarged, and, as the story runs, in the ferv^our of their gratitude they decreed DENBIGH HALL. 139 that it should be upheld " while the sun continued to shine and the rain to fall." This extravagance is perhaps only a rustic invention ; but it is certain that from the accident above narrated, the house gained the name of " Denbigh Hall," which it retained even after it became an inn, and was graced with the sign of the Marquis of Granby, which it now bears, and has borne for some seventy years. Mr. Varney, the present landlord of the King's Head at Fenny Stratford, who kept it a quarter of a century ago, speaks to its having so long been in the pubUc service. Its pretensions were never great. " It never," says a lively writer in one of the jom-nals, " within the memory of man, was a coaching-house, nor are there any proofs that the beauty of its bar-maid or the soundness of its ale ever induced any particular coachman to puU up there. Occasionally a heavy broad-wheeled waggon or two might be seen standing before it, and it had a sort of minor fame among drovers." Now things are changed. The improve- ment may not last ; for " Fortune," as Mr. Canning sings, is rather apt to " Vary her changeable form ; " but, at present, customers are plenty, and the landlord has wisely taken care that for " the soundness of its ale," it shall rank second to no inn or haU in the county. The manner in which the cottage was christened, was perhaps an adoption of the course taken nearer London. Qaeen Anne is reported to have met with the same accident which befell Lord Denbigh, and to have been obhged to rest for some time under an elm 140 DENBIGH HALL. tree wliile the damage was repaired, or another coach procured for her Majesty. The tree was in consequence called " Queen's Elm," and has since given its title to a populous and respectable neighbourhood near London. Tliat Denbigh Hall will become a place of importance is, however, at present, by no means probable. In a few months it is expected the station wiU be removed, when the old Marquis of Granby may, like Sir John Moore, be again " left alone in his gloiy." 141 BLETCHLEY It may happen to some visitor to Denbigh Hall as it did to us, that leisure for a stroll across green fields, might give rise to the inchnation for it. On the left of the road coming from London, there is a village of the above name, situated chiefly in a valley, about a mile from the station. The church, standing on high ground, is the first object which meets the view, and an inspection of it, will well repay the antiquarian for his curiosity. A noble avenue of yew trees leads to the principal or south entrance, and within the porch are the remains of a Saxon arch, chastely decorated. The church is of large dimensions, and in good repair. Topographical writers have not bestowed much pains upon the place, but we learn from Mr. Britten, that this 142 BLETCHLET. manor, with the adjoining one of m'Haddon, was purchased by the Lord Greys of the Pigot family, and on the attainder of Wilham, Lord Grey, who was imprisoned on a charge of being an accomphce of Sir Walter Raleigh, was granted by James the First to his favom'ite. Sir George Villiers, who was created Baron Whaddon, and afterwards, Duke of Buckingham. On the death of the son and successor of this nobleman, it w^as purchased by John Selby'and Doctor Willis, who almost pulled down the old seat of the Greys.* His grandson, Browne Willis, the antiquary, inhabited the remainder. From him, it descended to John Willis Fleming, Esq. The present incumbent of the parish (which contains about six hundred acres), has re-built the parsonage-house almost on a regal scale, adopting the architecture of the time of Ehzabeth. He is, we learn, also an antiquary, and has possessed himself of many relics from his parishioners. The village is scattered over a circumference of about a mile of ground, having a centre, or focus, at Lower Bletchley, where four roads meet. It is of a decidedly rural character, but has lately received an addition to its commerce, in providing lodgings or living for the Railroad guards, superintendants, and workmen. How far this "march of intellect' may contribute to the improvement of its inns, cannot be foreseen : but at present, the accommodations for a visitor, do not rise beyond * It is now entirely destroyed, BLETCHLEY. 143 those of the ordinary public-house, and the " Londoner" is an object of curiosity to the quiet folks of Bletchley. In the church there are several interesting and curious inscriptions, and an altar- tomb, in marble, in good preservation, to the memory of Richard.. Lord Grey, Baron Grey de Wilton. A recumbent figure of this individual is spiritedly sculptured. He is armed ; and round the lower part of the armour, is a collar of jewels, in the midst of which is a small shield, with the cross of St. George, in allusion to his having been made Knight of the Garter by Richard the Second, probably about the year 1390. He appears with cropped hair, and without a beard. On the rails near the tomb rests the iron helmet, either of Lord Richard, of his son, Reginald, or his great grandson, Edmund (who were buried in the same tomb with him). Its visor has been richly gilt, of which there yet remains good proof. Although it is interesting to contemplate what are now become useless parts of a warrior's dress, it is accompanied by the reflection that such a case, must have been a most inconvenient one for a man's head, and vastly fatiguing to the wearer. An oak pillar in the south aisle, is surmounted with a box, and a carved inscription, dated 1637, of The box was open and empty. 144 BLETCHLEY. At the east end of the chancel, in the wall, is a very singular brass tablet, upon which is engraved a variety of symbolical figures, and inscriptions, in English and Latin. It is in recollection of Thomas Sparke, a celebrated theologist, who died the 8th October, 1616. At the foot it is stated — " Hoc monumentum Tho. Sparke filius et hoeris pietatis ergo moerens posuit." A tablet appears on the left of the altar, to the memory of a lady, who was wife to the above minister. The inscription it bears is quaint ; but not without interest, and is as foUows : — " ISiQity IBaugi^tcr of ^ixtrreto Jncfetorip, ai JEp^tDid), onelg SDtf0 0f Eljo^. ^jpariftc, IBflctnrflf JBtlitmty, antr parson of ti)i^ Cl^urci^' ^^f ^i^t"^ ^i^ ^Ji^^ ^ lobingr ijcljpcr forttc gear^, antf iarc unto \^im tzn djtltrren, of Ujljom fifac tucnt to Ijeabrn ficfore I)nr, antr fiiic ^%t left locate bi'l^intrc ]^a: ta folToto \)tx btxim^ antr gotrlg evamjplc. ^l)c tftrpartctf ^t 7ti^ ^[itflt., 1615. ^v^tit ti^t ^tKxi a fragrant rose s"]^e laiStctr, ^oc iJtlc reproadj Ijo: tiertitcjS cticr SIa;Stctr ; l^cr autumn jpa^t e^-jjcct^ a glorioiDS jSpringe, ^ ^emntf \ittXtx lilt more flourtiSijinse. BLETCHLEY. 145 The Church has contained ako several brass effigies, in the style of those shewn in our engraving at page 32 ; but they are all fled. Time and rude hands have, together, stolen away the fame of the individuals, whose virtues and titles thev commemorated. 146 FENNY STRATFORD This small decayed market- town, is situated on the ancient Watling Street, a short half hour's walk from Denbigh Hall. It is a chapelry to the parish of Bletchley. The prefix (Fenny) is derived from the nature of the surrounding country; but the town itself is upon an eminence. In the year 1 665, before the art of draining lands had reached its present perfection, it paid a heavy penalty for its situation, having been depopulated by the " plague " to such a degree, that the inns were shut up and the road turned in another direction, since which period the market has never flourished. The Grand Junction Canal has, however, in our days absorbed its waste waters, and rendered the " fens " wholesome both for man and beast, A small river called the Lofield flows at the foot of the town. The houses are disposed chiefly along the high road from London FENNY STRATFORD. 147 to Stoney Stratford, but there is a cross street leading south- wards. The view towards the high ridge on which the village of Brickhill is situated, and that from BrickhiU towards Fenny, presents a wide range of scenery, of a diversified and pleasing character. The chapel appears to have remained in a state of dilapida- tion, for two or three centuries, when Mr. Browne Willis, an EngUsh Antiquary, born in 1682, and who pubHshed a sur\^ey of the Cathedrals of England, exerted himself to raise subscrip- tions to re-build the chapel, and the result was the present brick building, the first stone of which was laid in 1724. He appears to have exercised an odd fancy in dedicating it to St. Martin, and laying the foundation stone on St. Martin's day, because his grandfather died on that day in St. Martin's Lane. Those benevolent individuals who subscribed above the sum of ten pounds, are honoured by having their coats-of-arms displayed upon the ceiHng of the church. Wilhs died in 1760, and was buried within the rails of the Communion Table. The inhabitants of Fenny, admit that their town is a dull place, — a designation which doubtless applies to its trade, the population being chiefly composed of the labouring classes . That species of life, which is imparted to a place by being situated on a high road, however, still belongs to it — there being many coaches passing through it both by day and night. It may be conjectured, therefore, that it will not gain much in the way of life or trade from the formation of the Raihoad. There is a 148 FENNY STRATFORD. good inn — the Swan — which was an inn bearing the same name in the year 1474. A tableau of its visitors from that day to the present, would form a motley scene. Another inn, once of note, but now dwindled into a pubhc-house, the Black Bull, was anciently a guild or fraternity, dedicated to St. Margaret and Catherine. Some remains of the Brotherhood-house exist ; but now converted into lofts and stabling — the oaken timbers are grooved and ribbed with age. Here we may truly say, " Sic transit gloria mundi !" i49 WOBURN. [Denbigh Hall is the nearest point to Woburn, but when that station is abandoned, it will be necessary for the visitor to Woburn to alight at Leighton Buzzard.] This particularly neat and clean town* is situated on the western side of the county, bordering on Buckinghamshire, and consists chiefly of one street, formed by the road from Dunstable to Ampthill. Its importance is derived from the elegant mansion and extensive park in its vicinity belonging to the Duke of Bedford, more than from any remarkable events connected with its antiquity or history. On the 1 9th of June, 1724, great part of it was destroyed by fire : but this * We are partly indebted for this description of Woburn and the Abbey to the " Beauties of England and Wales." o 2 150 WOBURN. unfortunate circumstance, though distressing to individuals, proved beneficial to the town ; — for, '* Partial evil is universal good," as many houses were soon afterwards rebuilt in a more convenient and handsome manner, with the addition of some good inns and a market-house. The church was erected by Robert Hobbs, the late Abbot of Woburn. It then belonged to the abbey, and is still of exempt jurisdiction, being in the exclusive possession of the Duke of Bedford. This structure some years ago, furnished a whimsical instance of capricious taste ;* the body being completely detached from the tower, which stood at about six yards distance. The tower is a small square building, with large buttresses at the corners, and four pinnacles. The top is embrasured : the dial was about nine feet from the ground. The tower of the church is now joined to the body, and the dial elevated some twenty feet above its former situation. The church consists of three aisles, and a chancel ; the latter was embelUshed in a handsome manner by the fourth Duke of Bedford. On the north side of this building is a * It is doubtful if what is here called "capricious taste" is not simply an imitation of the fashion of Italy, where there exist many instances of the tower (or belfry) being built entirely separate from the church. The most remarkable cases are those of Florence and Venice, where the " Carnpanili " or bell towers, form striking objects, standing alone in the vicinity of the church. The former is of great height and built entirely of marble That of Venice is well known as the spot whence Galileo, in the pursuit of his astronomical studies, discovered the satel- lites of Jupiter in the year 1610. WOBURN. 151 curious marble monument for Sir Francis Stanton and family. It consists of two compartments, comprising- twelve figures kneeling in devotional attitudes. The pulpit, probably coeval with the abbey, is particularly deserving of notice, being richly ornamented with carving in the florid Gothic style. The munificence of the Russells has been of singular benefit to this town, where many monuments of their liberality exist. Francis, the first Earl of that name, founded and endowed a free-school: and a charity-school, for thirty boys and fifteen girls, which was afterwards erected by some other noble personage of the same family. These institutions are now consolidated. Here are hkewise twelve alms-houses for as many poor famihes, built by John, Duke of Bedford, in consequence of an act of Parliament passed in the year 1762. By the act, fifteen houses, cottages and tenements which had been vested in trustees for the benefit of the poor, and produced an annual income of about twenty-four pounds were given to the Duke, for the sole use of him and his heirs ; on condition that he,, or they, should erect, and keep in repair, twelve houses, for the habitation of the same number of indigent families to whom also the sum of thirty pounds annually is to be distributed in bread. Birchmore-house, and the surrounding lands, were made responsible for the due execution of this contract. There are few spots or places in our Island now become the site of extensive villages or towns, which are not remarkable in a greater or lesser degree for some natural curiosity, which in 152 WOBURN. early times was probably the original cause of the settlement of the place, and of its subsequent importance. In this neighbour- hood there is no opportunity for pointing the attention of our readers to elevations, where extensive views can be enjoyed, nor is there a river to beautify the landscape. But the valleys have their wonders as well as the hills ; and those who know Httle or nothing of the locality of Woburn will probably be surprised to learn, that it was celebrated in the days of Adrian for a natural production, which has now become a source of permanent wealth. We allude to the Pits whence Fuller's Earth is dug in sufficient quantities for the supply of the whole kingdom. These Pits are situated two miles north of Woburn, in the parish of Wavendon (or " Wandon" as it is called) and about one-eighth of a mile on the western side of the Northampton road, which here forms the boundary between the two counties for upwards of a mile. The more ancient pit is in the county of Bedford, in the parish of Apsley, which adjoins that of Wavendon. British cloth is chiefly indebted to the cleansing qualities of this celebrated earth, for its great superiority over that manu- factured by other nations. In no other country is it found so free from foreign admixture, and no where, perhaps, is more adulteration practised, to meet competition in price. However, on account of its importance in the woollen trade, several severe laws have been made at different periods, since the reign of Charles the Second, to prevent its exportation. Nor are these acts of the British legislature without precedent, history WOBURN. 153 informing us, that the /wZ/m^r business was an object of Roman attention, and that laws were expressly made by that nation, to regulate the employment. This earth is a marl, commonly of a greyish ash-coloured brown ; yet it greatly varies, and is found of different shades, from the very pale to the dusky, or almost black ; but always with a tinge of the yellowish green. The pit at Wavendon consists of two shafts ; one with a ladder for the convenience of the labourers, the other to raise the earth. The descent is very disagreeable and the inside of the pit very damp. The wood- work on the top and sides of the excavated angles, is continually wet, and almost covered with Boletus Lachrymans (Dry-rot Boletus). The strata are disposed in the following order : — From the surface to the depth of six or seven feet, are several layers of sand, aU of a reddish colour, but of different tints. Beneath is a thin stratum of sand-stone, and under this the fuller's earth. Tlie upper stratum is about a foot thick, but being generally impure, or mixed with sand, it is thrown aside, and the rest is taken up for use. The earth is disposed in layers (commonly about eighteen inches between one horizontal fissure and another), continued to the depth of eight or ten feet. Between the central layers is a thin stratum of matter, of less than an inch thick, which in taste, colour and external appearance, bears a striking resemblance to Terra Japonica. Beneath the whole is a bed of rough white free- stone, about two feet thick ; 154 WOBURN. this is seldom dug through ; when it is, more strata of sand are discovered. The depth of the pit varies, it being from twenty to thirty feet below the surface. The few authors who have written on the topography of this county, are unanimous in ascribing a petrifying quality to a small spring, said to be in the parish before mentioned, and not only the water, but the surrounding earth also, is reported to partake of the same property. Camden informs us, that those who belonged to the monastery, showed " a wooden ladder, which, after lying some time in the earth, was dug up all stone.'* The risible absurdity of this sentence can only be exceeded by the folly of Michael Drayton, poet laureate to James the First, who inserted the following lines on this subject in his Poly-Olbion. " The brook which on her bank doth boast that earth alone. Which noted of this isle, converteth wood to stone, That little Aspley's earth we anciently instile, 'Mongst sundry other things, a wonder of our isle." This wonder of the poet, like many more extraordinary circumstances, had its nine days of admiration paid by the multitude. The story has now fallen into general discredit ; and we learn, from the most unquestionable authority, that there is no such spring in the parish ! yet we have heard of some bits of the petrified wood, said to have been obtained here, which appeared handsome when polished ; and also, that WOBURN. 155 a pair of buttons had been made of it. But we have said enough on a baseless subject ; and, as the stream is wanting, whose qualities could alone give the tale credibility, shall dismiss it with the common motto, " Ex nihilo nihil fit." About one mile east of the town is WOBURN ABBEY, the seat of the Duke of Bedford. This extensive and magni- ficent pile of building is situated in the midst of a large park. Its effect is imposing and dignified. The ground plan of this elegant mansion forms a square of more than two hundred feet, containing a quadrangular court in the inside. It was erected on the site of the old abbey, by John, the fourth Duke of the Russell family. The original building was founded in the year 1145, by Hugh de Bolebeck, a nobleman who had large possessions in the neighbourhood. It was intended for monks of the Cistercian order, a sect of religionists that sent many swarms into this country about the middle of the twelfth century. On the suppression of the rehgious houses, its revenues, according to Dugdale amounted to less than four hundred pounds. In the first year of Edward the sixth, it was granted, with many other ecclesiastical estates 156 WOBITRN. to John, afterwards Lord Russell, a gentleman who was, honoured with several employments by Henry the Eighth. In his family the possession has ever since remained. The new building has had many considerable alterations and improvements, particularly since it has been in the possession of the two last noble owners. The west front is built of the Ionic order, with a rusticated basement. The principal floor, or suite of rooms, on this side, consists of a saloon, state bed- room, drawing and dining-rooms : the south contains the library, breakfast, etruscan, and duke's room ; the east, the vestibule ; and the north, the French bed-rooms, and various other chambers. The collection of pictures in the apartments is extensive, and chiefly remarkable for the predominance of portraits of historical characters. We refer the reader to the catalogue of them, and the other works of art contained in the mansion, w^hich wiU be found on the spot. The apartments are open to pubhc inspection on Mondays only. When part of the abbey was taken down in 1 744, a corpse was discovered, the flesh of which was so sound as to bear cutting with a knife, though it must have been interred at least 200 years. Soon afterwards, on puUing down one of the walls of the abbey-church, a stone coffin was found, which consisted of several loose stones set in the ground ; and in sinking a cellar, several more stone coffins were discovered, some of them very large, being six feet eight inches long in the inside ; they had all a place shaped for a head, and most of The Lavti, or Bedford Vase, from an outline engraving belonging to Hbnry G. Bohn, Esq. WOBURN. 157 them two or three holes at the bottom, doubtless to aUow the percolation of moisture. Near them were two pots or* urns, which probably contained the hearts of some who had been buried there. On a scull belonging to some bones, which lay in a dense blue clay, was some black cloth, which might have been a monk's cowl. Pieces of shoes were also found. From the Duke's apartments on the south side of the building, a covered way, or piazza, leads to the GALLERY OF SCULPTURE, a splendid building, 140 feet in length, containing a rich collection of antique and modern works of art ; but what renders it peculiarlv interesting to the connoisseur and artist, is the great lanti vase,* a curiosity demanding some detail. " This celebrated Bacchanalian Vase was purchased by the Duke fi"om the noble collection of Lord Cawdor, in June, 1800, for seven hundred guineas. It is of the lotus form, bell- shaped, and was most probably consecrated to the god Bacchus, as may be concluded from the finely- sculptured bacchanalian masks, and other features that accompany it. It must, therefore, have been used either as a laver, or as a symbol onlv of this part of the heathen mythology, and for no other use ; for it is certain that no wine was ever poured into it. "This superb monument of antique decoration was dug up * See Engraving. p 158 WOBURN. some centuries ago, among the ruins of Adrian's villa, together with the fragments of three other vases of nearly similar dimensions, all of which appeared, by the situation in which they were found, to have occupied the same spot of that once extensive and magnificent emporium of art. It was then removed to the villa Lanti, near Rome, where for many years it attracted the notice, and excited the admiration of both the traveller and the artist. This, and one at Warwick Castle, which is somewhat more decorated, are the only complete vases of the same dimensions and antiquity extant; and are, unquestionably, the most magnificent and noble sculptured specimens of antique decoration of this kind ever discovered. " The Lanti vase was brought from Rome, half a century ago, at a considerable risk and expense, by the Right Honourable Lord Cawdor, on whose classical taste and judgment it must ever confer the highest credit. The removal of this grand work of art from that city, caused great jealousy among the superintendants of the Vatican Museum, then forming under the auspices of the reigning pontifi*, the late Pius VL ; who, it is well known, in his resentment on this occasion, threatened several persons concerned in the removal of the vase, with the gallies. " The dimensions of it are : diameter of the mole, six feet three inches; height, with its present plinth, six feet nine inches." Another account of this vase states, that " it is supposed to WOBURN. 159 have been reserved for lustrations, and other ceremonies in which water was employed as a representative of purity, and was used before persons could be admitted to the Dionysian mysteries, and therefore may probably have stood in ancient times at the entrance of a Temple of Bacchus, By some, it is supposed, large as it is, that it was used for festive purposes at the splendid banquets of Adrian. It is mentioned by some ancient writers, that six hundred amphortE * of wine were mixed in one vase on such occasions." The sculptured masks which encircle it are eight in number. They display great force and beauty of execution, of which our engraving gives but an imperfect idea. Each mask would, of itself, make a picture of great interest. One of the ancestors of the Russell family was Constable of Corfe Castle in the year 1221. They may date the era of their greatness to a violent storm, which happened about the year 1500, on the coast of Dorset. Philip, Archduke of Austria, son of the Emperor Maximilian, being on a voyage to Spain, was obhged by the fury of a sudden tempest, to take refuge in the harbour of Weymouth, He was received on shore, and accommodated, by Sir Thomas Trenchard, who invited his relation, Mr. John Russell, to wait upon the Archduke. Philip was so much pleased with the poHte manners and cultivated talents of Mr. Russell, who was conversant with both the French * The Roman amphora was seven gallons, which gives as the contents of one of these vases, 4200 gallons, or exactly 70 hogsheads ! 160 WOBURN. and German languages, that, on arriving at Court, he recom- mended him to the notice of Henry the Seventh, who immediately sent for him to his palace, where he remained in great favour until the king's death. In the estimation of Henry the Eighth he rose still higher, since by that Monarch he was made Lord Warden of the Stannaries, Lord Admiral of England and Ireland, Knight of the Garter, and Lord Privy Seal ; and, in 1538, was created Baron RusseU, of Cheneys, in the county of Bucks ; which estate he afterwards acquired by marriage. At the coronation of Edward the Sixth, he officiated as Lord High Steward ; and two years afterwards, in the year 1549, was made Earl of Bedford. He died in 1554, and was buried at Cheneys, where many of his descendants have also been inteiTed. He was succeeded by his son Francis. On his death in the year 1585, the estates and titles devolved to his grandson Edward, whose father had been slain by the Scotch but two days before. Edward died in the year 1627, and was succeeded by his cousin Francis, whose great plan of draining the level of the fens, added vast sums to his annual income. He died in 1641, and was succeeded by his eldest son, William, whose impartiahty induced him to coincide occasionally with the measures of both parties during the dreadful contest between Charles the first and his parliament. He was at one period. General of the Horse, in the army of the latter. Though he had no less than seven sons, he appears to have outlived them aU ; for, on his death, in 1 700, his honours WOBURN. 161 and estates devolved on his grandson, Wriothesley ; who, dying of the small-pox in 1711, was succeeded by Wriothesley his son, who was then only about six years of age : he dymg in 1732, was succeeded by his brother, John, who was employed in the management of many important affairs, particularly in the year 1763, when he negociated the peace of Versailles. Francis, the fifth duke, succeeded his grandfather in 1771 ; his father, the successor apparent, the accomphshed Marquis of Tavistock, being killed by faUing from his horse in 1767. John Russell the sixth,, and present Duke, was bom 7th of July, 1766, having succeeded his brother the 2nd of March 1802. The Ducal honours came to the family in 1694. p r^ 162 STONEY STRATFORD From the present temporary station at Denbigh Hall, the above to^vn stands on the great high road called the Wathng Street, five miles and a half distant, W^en the next opening of the Railroad takes place, its situation from the Wolverton Station, will be about three miles, or half way from London to Birmingham. Stoney Stratford can boast of antiquity, ha\'ing been called in Roman times " Lactodorum," w^hich signified a river forded by means of stepping-stones. The river is the Ouse, and i-uns at the north end of the town towards Buckingham. At one of the inns, Richard the Third when Duke of Gloucester, accompanied by the Duke of Buckingham, seized the Prince Edward, son of Edward the Fourth, and arrested Lord Richard Grey and Sir Thomas Vaughan. At Passenham, one mile distant, the army of Edward the Elder was stationed, whilst he fortified Towcester. These are the chief events by which its histoiy has been marked in the olden time. STONEY STRATFORD. 163 In the month of May, 1742, a dreadful conflagration destroyed nearly two thirds of the east side of the town. This was the era of wooden buildings, and such events were com- mon. The body of the Church of St. Mary Magdalen was burnt, but the Tower being spared, now stands alone, a relic of the event, keeping watch like a mighty giant over the numer- ous graves with which the church-yard is filled. Stoney Stratford extends a mile on each side of the road, and so regularly is this order of building preserved, that even the Church of St. Giles, on the west side, takes its place in the rank, abutting upon the street. There are no ancient monuments, and but few modern ones. The only inscription deserving of notice is in honour of a reverend plurahst, " Leonard Sedgwick, M. A., who was forty-five years minister of the church. Rector of Thornton and Preben- dary of Lincoln — who, whilst his health and strength would permit, was faitliful and diligent in the discharge of cdl the branches of his pastored office and died in 1747." The curfew, or eight o'clock bell, is rung here in the winter months, and also a beU at five o'clock in the morning all the year. Until recently, this bell was sounded at four o'clock, but the churchwardens, as the old sexton stated, decided that " four was too early to disturb the inhabitants." This ringing is of course a relic of the matins of the Catholic Church. 164 STONEY STRATFORD. The trade of the place does not appear to be of a lucrative character, since not even a little oil, or gas, is afforded to illumi- nate the streets at night, which, when the moon deigns not to shine, are enveloped in truly Cimmerian darkness, with the exception only of a glimmering lamp at the doors of the inns. The bustle occasioned by the arrival and departure of coaches about mid- day and midnight is sufficiently remarkable, since the place with its multitude of inns may be compared to a great " half way house," between the metropolis and a num- ber of towns in the north of England. By the establishment of the station at Denbigh Hall, it has received a temporary accession of transit business, which, however, together with the old trade, must disappear when the Railroad takes its next stride towards Birmingham. After the times when the glut of coaches has passed, and in the evening particularly, the veiy stones of Stoney Stratford would be upon the qui vive, if any unusual sound were to disturb their rest. The immediate neighbour- hood appears to be destitute of any particular attractions for a visitor. One of the Crosses erected by King Edward the First to the memory of his beloved consort, Eleanor, formerly stood in the centre of this town ; but during the civil wars, the puritans, in the barbarous warfare which they insanely carried on against works of taste, demolished this pile, imagining that a monu- ment sacred to conjugal affection, was a desecration of the land which their ferocity was permitted to ravage and degrade. 165 THE ROMAN VILLA. Six miles from Stoney Stratford and exactly two miles from Buckingham, in a field on the right hand as the traveller passes from the former towards the latter town, are seen the excavations of this newly discovered remains of a Roman dwelling — a " Villa," or comitry residence, probably of some governor of the province of Flavia Ccesariensis, wliich compre- hended within its division the county of Buckingham, afterguards, under the Saxons, a part of Mercia. From Stoney Stratford, on the great Roman road (the Watling Street), there branched off one of the vicinal ways, or cross roads, towards Buckingham, then, no doubt, a Roman station, since it is known to have been the scene of wars between that powerful people and the Aborigines of the Island. Some intelligent inhabitant of the county in which this discovery has been made, will, doubtless, amply satisfy the public curiosity 166 THE ROMAN VILLA. by details of the present condition, and plans of the numerous apartments originally comprising the Villa, although a superficial description here, may, in the interim, not be entirely unworthy of perusal. There is no standard for the value to be attached to, or for the interest to be felt, in contemplating works of antiquity. It is not enough to say that " splendid" remains are to be seen in other parts of the Island, or, that because an individual has walked over the resuscitated streets of Pompeii, therefore a Roman ruin of a less magnificent character is to be disregarded. The pleasure derived from such scenes, is that which carries the mind back to the time of a great people, now extinct — the examining the works of hands which have long since passed into dust, and the pacing of apartments tenanted by unknown families, who have left no vestige of their rank, but the places where they ate, drank, slept, and bathed. It is such considerations as these which, in our opinion, render any object of antiquity, however mean in character, worthy of examination. It is a habit with the honest but unlearned portion of the public, to associate with all that is ancient, the abbeys and monasteries of the country, all of which Henry the VIII, enjoys the reputation of having ruined. Tlie name of Cromwell is equally famous for the destruction of castles and decapitating statues. Thus in the neighbourhood of this Roman villa, you will be told, that " it might have been an abbey or a monastery ; for there were baths, and all that." Joint of the Camimifi, or flue, for conveying: Steam into the Sudatoria, or vapour baths, discovered in the Roman Villa near Backingham. THE ROMAN VILLA. 167 Baths in a monastery ! Such indulgences were not always among the luxuries of the monastic times. The Romans "did" as "they do at Rome." Whatever country they conquered or settled, their fashions and customs were carried thither ; just as in our day the Enghsh have introduced horse races into France. No Roman house of any note was without its baths, and there having already been discovered several in the viUa in question, sufficiently proves that it has been the habitation of no mean nor obscure individual. It is because the floors of the apartments and the foundations of the building are all that remain, that we are more particularly attracted to the baths. The uses of other rooms can only be conjectured fi*om their relative positions, their size, and the quahty of material and workmanship of the tessellated pavement. The usual suite of baths was the Frigidarium (or cold) ; the Tepidarium (or warm) ; and the Sudatoria (sweating or vapour) baths. The Apodytorium was the undressing- room. All these are found at Buckingham Villa. The engraved plate shews an exact representation of one of the joints of the flues by which the steam was conveyed from the furnace to the Sudatoria. The flues are, in places, single — in others, in pairs. On a close inspection of the interior of the flue, it is found that a considerable decomposition of the clay has taken place from the action of the steam. The exterior, on the contrary, is as fresh and angular as when it came out of the hands of the potter. The pattern upon two of its sides was stamped by a tool of a 168 THE ROMAN VILLA. serpentine form, having twelve lines or grooves, and the entii'e figure was produced by turning the tool, or stamping twice. It is worthy of remark, that the grooved sides are all placed against each other ; evidently a contrivance to keep them in their places, and apparently to supersede or economize the use of mortar or cement. The general plan of the baths at Pompeii are thus described by Sir WiUiam Gell : " The furnace was round, and had, in the lower part of it, two pipes which transmitted hot air under the pavements and between the walls of the vapour baths, which were buUt hoUow for that purpose. Close to the furnace, at a distance of four inches, a round vacant place remains, in which was placed the copper (Caldarium) for boiling water, near which, with the same interval between them, was situated the copper for warm water (tepidarium) ; and at the distance of two feet from this, was the receptacle for cold water ffrigidarhmi) , which was square. A constant communication was maintained between these vessels, so that as fast as hot water was dra\^^l ofi" from the caldarium, the void w^as supplied from the tepidarium, which being already considerably heated, did but shghtly reduce the temperature of the hotter boiler. The tepidarium in its turn, was supplied from a tank, and that from an aqueduct, so that the heat which w^as not taken up by the first boiler, passed on to the second, and instead of being wasted, did its office in preparing the contents of the second for the higher temperature which it was to obtain in the first. It is but lately this principle THE ROMAN VILLA. 169 has been introduced into modern furnaces, but its use in reducing the consumption of fuel is well known." The floors of all the rooms are covered with tessartB, or mosaic pavement, formed out of two materials — red clay, and a greyish stone. The former is generally placed round the apartment in a border of about two feet wide, whilst tlie latter occupies the centre. The effect produced is that of a carpet. These mosaics are in general square, and vary in diameter from an inch to two inches ; the latter size indicating apartments of inferior grade, probably those of the domestics. One room of a superior order, measures eighteen feet square. The tessarce were embedded in mortar, but of a loose kind ; and, indeed, the workmanship throughout the entire building is of a rough character. The upper surfaces of the floors are worn smooth — a sure indication that they were trodden for many years by their anonymous inhabitants. At this point we feel that we have already gone beyond the limit we prescribed to ourselves at starting, which was, to attempt sketches of places within about five miles on either side of the Railway ; but being unable to resist the attractions of antiquity, we found it equally difficult to deny ourselves the pleasure of a visit to the magnificent domain of the Duke of Buckingham, " Stowe Park," to which we propose now to direct the attention of our readers. It may be reached either by way of the village of Maid's Moreton, or Buckingham. Heretofore, those who read of the beauties of Stowe, and of the rare and magnificent objects which it contains, could not ^ 'Ji s .