NEWBY BRIDGE AND THE LAKE COUNTRY--AN AUTUMN DAY AT CARTMEL--THE
PRIORY CHURCH.
It was Theodore Hook, if we remember rightly, who, when the _New
Monthly_ was in its prime and he was in one of his most playful moods,
sang the praises of the "Swan" at Ditton. Our own memory recalls a
pleasant visit to that quaint resting place, famous in the records of
Thames anglers and Cockney pleasure parties, when, after much happy and
harmless enjoyment upon
The rippling silver stream
That in the sunshine bubbles,
we steered our tiny bark through a small flotilla of boats, round the
picturesque aits, and beneath the overhanging willows, to seek the much
needed refreshment the ancient hostelry affords. But while we would not
willingly decry the attractions of the "snug inn" that Hook's rhyming
fancy has made for ever famous, or deny that--
The "Swan," snug inn, good fare affords
As table e'er was put on,
And worthier quite of loftier boards
Its poultry, fish, and mutton;
And while sound wine mine host supplies,
With beer of Meux or Tritton,
Mine hostess, with her bright blue eyes,
Invites to stay at Ditton,
we must confess that, for peaceful quietude, the beauty of the scenery
without and the comforts to be found within, we give a preference to
the "Swan" at Newby. The old mansion-like inn is familiar, if not
indeed endeared, to everyone who has sojourned upon the green shores
of wooded Windermere, and in the old coaching days, ere the shrill
whistle of the locomotive had awoke the echoes in those peace-breathing
valleys, it was as much in favour with the turtle doves and as much
sought after by the votaries of Hymen as the "Low Wood" is at the
present time. It stands on the banks of the Leven, near its outlet
from the lake, and at the very foot of that bleak range of fir-clad
melancholy hills that rise like a mountain barrier to guard the Lake
country from the inroads of the treacherous sea. The clear river
glides smoothly along by the front of the house, a quaint old bridge
of five arches with queer little recesses on either side bestrides
the stream, and, just below, its waters are dammed up by a weir, over
which they fall in sheets of whitened foam, making a perpetual music
that awakes the drowsy echoes of the vale. Simple are the details, but
charming is the combination--the old bridge, grey and weather-worn and
lichen-stained, the white front of the pleasant old hostelry repeating
itself in the still clear waters of the Leven, the little patch of
unpretentious garden with a trim pleasure-boat moored to its bank, and
the clump of tall trees at the foot of the bridge that bend gracefully
over the stream and now and then dip their pensile branches in the
current, together make up as attractive a picture as the eye of an
artist would wish to rest upon.
If you have an hour to spare, you cannot better employ it than by
climbing the wooded hill that rises from behind the inn, crowned with
a square tower, the "Folly," as it is called, erected in memory of
England's naval victories. From the top of Finsthwaite, for that is
the name, you have one of the most varied and charming prospects that
even the Lake country affords. Beneath you, lying like an outstretched
panorama, may be seen the whole length of Windermere, with its verdant
slopes, its green isles, its wooded hills, and heather-clad fells.
The water, in the intensity of its blueness, rivals the azure dome
above; and the eye, as it ranges along the placid surface, can trace
the river-like course of the lake and note every jutting headland and
every indentation along its shores. Just beyond the Ferry is Bowness,
and, further north, near the head of the lake, is a cluster of mountain
peaks, the advanced guard of the mighty Helvellyn, Wansfell, Loughrigg,
and the twin pikes of Langdale rising prominently among them. From the
summit of this tree-clad eminence the prospect is delightful at all
seasons--in the early morning when the thin filmy mists of night are
gathering up their skirts and stealing lazily up the mountain sides,
or when evening comes on calm, and golden, and the slanting beams of
the declining sun stream upon you with dazzling, almost blinding,
brilliance. If you can choose your opportunity at the season when
the summer's green is changing to the russet brown which tells of
the waning of the year and are fortunate enough before the gloaming
begins to catch the sunset effects as the warm rays tip with roseate
hue the stony coronal of Gummer How, and shed a flood of golden light
upon the wild fells already purpled with autumnal splendour, you will
linger long to gaze upon the scene of ever-changeful beauty, and mark
the varied combinations and the exquisite gradations of colour as the
yellow light changes into a gorgeous crimson and the crimson deepens
into purple until all becomes shadowy and vague.
Southwards the view is of an entirely different character. You
may trace the course of the Leven as it winds its way beneath the
precipitous hills, through the deep-wooded glen, and by the rocky gorge
at Backbarrow, where there is a cotton mill that seems strangely out of
place, to the shores of Morecambe Bay; the puffs of white steam that
ever and anon steal through the umbrage mark the line of the railway
from Lakeside to Ulverston, and show the close companionship the rail
and the river keep. Eastwards, across the valley where the lower slopes
of the bleak Cartmel Fells sink down into a carpet of verdure, is the
little village of Staveley, with its modest house of prayer in which
good old Edmund Law,[45] the father of a bishop, the grandfather of
two bishops and a Lord Chief Justice, and the great-grandfather of a
Governor General of India (Lord Ellenborough), ministered for half a
century in consideration of the modest stipend of £20 a year.
But we are wandering from our story, for it is not Newby Bridge and its
surroundings, but Cartmel and its venerable priory church--the only
monastic institution that escaped mutilation when the Defender of the
Faith suppressed the religious houses--that now attract our attention.
A part of the hamlet of Newby Bridge is in the parish of Cartmel, but
the mother church lies on the other side of the Fell, and is at least
six miles distant. If the visitor is stout in lung and strong of limb
he cannot do better than make the journey afoot, taking the way over
the breezy moors, where every turn of the roads reveals some new object
of interest, and when he has scaled the last ascent he can look down
into the peaceful valley, at the bottom of which the quaint old village
with its ancient church, almost cathedral-like in its proportions, may
be seen nestling in serene seclusion. The less adventurous will find a
more easy way by rail from Lakeside to Ulverstone, and thence to Cark
or Grange, from which places it is distant a couple of miles or so,
though, to our thinking, the pleasantest way is to secure the box-seat
on Mr. Rigg's coach, which calls every day at the "Swan" on the way
to and from Grange. You are sure of a capital team and a chatty and
communicative driver, who knows all the places of interest about, and
possesses an inexhaustible fund of anecdote. For a distance of three
miles the road is a continuous ascent, the country presenting little
else than an undulating expanse of wild moors, relieved in places with
plantations of fir and larch. At Newton, a little straggling village,
cold, bleak, and stony looking, you come in sight of the valley through
which flows the Winster, the Milnthorp Sands, and the broad expanse of
Morecambe Bay. Then the road begins to descend; Buck Crag, at the foot
of which Edmund Law had his dwelling, is on the left; presently the
pretty little hamlet of Lindale--the scene of one of Mrs. Gaskell's
most charming stories--is reached, after which you pass beneath the
wooded heights of Blawith and Aggerslack, and a few minutes later
reach the seaside village of Grange. From this place the walk is about
three miles, and a good part of it is uphill. Passing along the steep
straggling street that comprises what ever there is of town, you
reach the church, a modest little Gothic structure crowning a grassy
knoll that overlooks the bay, the groves of Yew-barrow, and the long
stretch of coast that sweeps round by Silverdale and Carnforth towards
the Lune. Here the road tends to the right, skirting the slopes of
Hampsfell, on the summit of which is the well-known "Hospice," a square
stone tower, built by a former incumbent of Cartmel, the Rev. Thomas
Remington, for the comfort and convenience of those who traverse the
lonely fell. Continuing for some distance along a pleasant tree-shaded
lane, where the scenery is fresh at every turn, you come presently to
the summit of the high ground where the road divides, one path leading
to Allithwaite, another to Cark, and the third, taking a northerly
course, descends into the vale of Cartmel. Hedgerows border the way,
alternating now and then with patches of stone wall, grey and jagged
and lichen-stained, and half hidden in places with copse and brushwood.
On the left the slope is steep, and at the bottom a small stream--the
Ea--winds its way freakishly in and out, circling with playful eddies
round the moss-clad stones that Nature's careless hand has strewn along
its channel, and then hurrying on to go with the Leven to the sea. The
plumy woods about Holker come well in view, and in front are the green
acclivities of Broughton, backed by a cluster of swelling hills, with
the Furness Fells and the range about Coniston--the Alt Maen or Old Man
and its hoary companions stretching away into the shadowy distance. We
meet few wayfarers, and, with the exception of a solitary homestead or
two, we do not see a house until we come close upon the town. Near the
entrance, on the left, is a small, unpretending building, half chapel,
half school in appearance; a meeting house of the Society of Friends,
which some would-be humorist has described as a centre of gravity. A
few yards further on is the village school, and, passing this, we enter
the town, which comprises a few groups of houses scattered irregularly
round the grand old priory church, the lofty battlemented walls of
which, whitened by the storms of six hundred years, tower above them
with an air of solemn grandeur. It is a secluded out-of-the-world
sort of place, with a quaintness about it that almost leads you to
believe it has seen little change since William Mareschall, Earl of
Pembroke, in the year 1188, gave its lands to the monks of the order
of St Augustine--the same earl whose name is brought before us in
Shakespeare's "King John," and whose recumbent effigy may still be seen
in the round tower of the Temple Church in London.
Antiquaries tell us that the name Cartmel is of British origin,[46]
and signifies the entrenched camp of fortification among the fells,
an opinion that is in some measure borne out by the number of British
as well as Roman antiquities that have been discovered at different
times. The site of the camp is supposed to have been in the fields
on the bank of the little river Ea, now called the Beck, a little to
the north-west of the church, and which to this day are known as the
Castle Meadows. The earliest mention we have of it is in the Life of
St. Cuthbert, written by one of the monkish historians, from which it
appears that some time between the years 677 and 685, Ecgfrith, King
of the Northumbrian Angles, having conquered Cumberland, Westmoreland,
and the adjoining districts, gave to Cuthbert, whom he had caused to
be consecrated Bishop of Lindisfarne, "the whole of the lands called
Cartmel, with all the Britons in it," a phrase which goes to show
that, though the aboriginal Britons had been reduced to slavery by
their Saxon oppressors, they had for two centuries and a half been
permitted to retain their ancient home among the hills of this wild and
almost insulated tract of country. From this time a chasm of something
like five centuries occurs in the history. Whether the monks retained
possession of the lands after the death of Cuthbert, or whether the
place was ravaged by the Danish invaders, is not known with certainty,
but, as no mention of it occurs in the Doomsday Survey, it is not
unreasonable to assume that the place had been laid waste during
some of the Danish incursions, and the church which Cuthbert reared
destroyed. There is, however, undoubted evidence that a religious
establishment existed at Cartmel before the priory church was founded,
several of the deeds conveying lands to the neighbouring Abbey of
Furness being attested by ecclesiastics of Cartmel; for example, in
1135 the name of "Willelmus Clericus de Kertmel" appears as witness to
a deed of gift, and in 1155 that of "Uccheman, Parsona de Chertmel,"
occurs in a like capacity.
Some time during the reign of the lion-hearted King, Richard the
First, William, Earl of Pembroke, influenced by the spirit of the
times, conceived the idea of founding a house for a fraternity of
canons regular of the order of St. Augustine, the brotherhood being so
named to distinguish them from those secular canons who abandoned the
practice of living in community. To carry out his purpose he obtained
from John, Earl of Morteign, afterwards King John, a grant of lands
in Cartmel for the permanent endowment of his house. Here tradition
comes upon the scene, and with the warm colouring of romance fills
in the cold outlines of historic fact. As in many other places, a
marvellous story is related of the way in which Earl Pembroke's pious
canons discovered and were led to make choice of this green nook hidden
away among the bleak mountain solitudes. Wandering about, it is said,
in search of a settlement, they somehow or other found their way
into this remote corner of Lancashire, where they discovered a hill
commanding an agreeable prospect and suitable in every way for their
purpose. Having marked out their foundation, they were proceeding to
build, when a mysterious voice was heard directing them to remove to
another locality, described as "a valley between two rivers, where the
one runs north and the other south." Why the particular spot was not
more clearly defined the old monkish chroniclers have omitted to tell
us, but the poor homeless fathers in obedience to the supernatural
command, abandoned their work, and wandered up and down in search of a
spot answering to the description so vaguely given. Failing in their
efforts, they determined on retracing their steps; plodding their
way wearily through the tangled forests, they eventually reached the
pleasant vale of Cartmel, when, to their joy, they came unexpectedly
upon a small stream, the flow of which was towards the north, and,
crossing it, they arrived presently at another running in the opposite
direction, the hill which they had originally selected being in
close proximity. Here, then, midway between the two streams, they
determined on erecting their church, dedicating it when completed to
the Virgin. Afterwards they built a small chapel on the hill where they
had heard the mysterious voice, dedicating it to St. Bernard, though
St. Vox, if there is such a saint in the Roman calendar, would have
been more appropriate. The church remains a lasting monument of their
architectural skill, but the chapel has long since disappeared, though
the tree-clad hill on which it stood still retains the name of St.
Bernard's Mount.
Leaving the shadowy realm of legend and romance, and confining
ourselves to the prosaic facts of history, we find that in 1188, when
the pious Pembroke endowed the religious house at Cartmel, he directed
that it should be free and released from all subjection to any other
house. With the view of preventing its ever being transformed into an
abbey he further directed that from time to time, on the death of a
prior, the canons should select two of their number and present them to
him as the patron, or his heirs, and from them should be chosen the one
that should serve as prior in succession, and who should have the name
and office of prior only, and that an abbey should never be made of the
Priory, the charter of foundation concluding in these words:--"This
house have I founded for the increase of holy religion, giving and
conceding to it every kind of liberty that the mouth can utter or the
heart of man conceive: whosoever, therefore, shall cause loss or injury
to the said house or its immunities, may he incur the curse of God, and
of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and of all the other saints of God, besides
my particular malediction." How far the invoked curses of the Blessed
Virgin or the "particular malediction" of William Earl of Pembroke
tended to the protection of the Priory of Cartmel we shall hereafter
see.
William Mareschall, Earl of Pembroke, the founder of the Priory of
Cartmel, was a notable personage, and filled a large space in the
history of his generation. His first wife was a daughter of the
redoubtable Strongbow, the real conqueror of Ireland, and the one who
in the reign of Henry II. first brought that country under the dominion
of the English Crown. After her death, he married for his second wife a
daughter of that faithless tyrant King John, a fortunate circumstance
for both King and country, for the Earl became the trusted adviser of
the sovereign, and by his tact and judgment won from him the great
charter of English liberties, and in so doing enabled the recreant
monarch to retain his crown.
When Pembroke founded his Priory of Canons at Cartmel the sturdy old
warrior and statesman made ample provision for its future maintenance,
for he endowed it with the manor and all his lands in the district
of Cartmel, together with the advowson of the then existing church,
the funds of that more ancient ecclesiastical foundation being merged
in the Priory revenues, the parishioners in turn being permitted to
retain a part of the Priory as their parish church, and one of the
canons being required to officiate as their priest. The earl further
bestowed upon his foundation the fishery of the Kaen, the church
of Balifar, and chapel of Balunadan with its appendages, and the
town of Kinross in Ireland, with the advowson of its church and all
that pertained thereto. The "Priory of the Blessed Virgin Mary of
Kartmele," as it was anciently written, was subsequently enriched
by many grants, donations, and other "offerings of the faithful."
When King John ascended the throne he confirmed by Royal charter the
foundation grant of the Earl of Pembroke, the only thing he did for his
son-in-law's foundation, for that not very religious, or at all events
not very scrupulous, monarch was more anxious to "shake the bags of the
hoarding abbots" than to add to their contents, and if we except the
Abbey of Beaulieu, in Hampshire, and the monastery of Hales Owen, in
Shropshire, there is no record of his having either founded or endowed
any religious house during his lifetime. The charter confirming the
foundation grant also ratified the gift of Gilbert de Boelton of lands
on the rocky promontory of Hunfride-heved, or Humphrey Head as it is
now called, where, as tradition affirms, the last wolf in England was
hunted down; and also an acre of land there and the close of Kirkepoll,
the present Kirkhead, which one Simon, the son of Ukeman, had bestowed.
William de Walton was appointed the first prior of the newly-founded
house. Settling down in this quiet green nook in Lancashire--the very
spot for a life of religious seclusion--under the protection of their
pious patron, the powerful Pembroke, the fraternity continued to lead
a life of sanctity and single-blessedness, and on the whole they must
have had rather a pleasant time of it, for, if history is to be relied
on, the monotony of a religious life was varied by a considerate
attention to their worldly well-being; they tilled their lands, made
home improvements, now and then they busied themselves in building a
grange in which to garner their produce, and occasionally a mill, where
they and their tenants might grind their corn. The prior seems to have
been early imbued with the principles of free trade, for as far back
as the year 1203 we find him "obtaining letters patent" empowering him
to export corn from his possessions in Ireland; later on we find the
same worthy in a court of law defending his fishery rights, when Ralph
de Bethom had been poaching in the waters of the Kaen, and it would be
unjust to the memory of the fraternity to say that they ever neglected
any opportunity of augmenting the privileges or the wealth of their
house. Numerous additions to the original endowments were made by pious
benefactors, and, as an incentive to benevolent effort, Walter Gray,
Abbot of York, promised an indulgence of twenty days of pardon to all
who should charitably relieve with their goods the fabric of the church
of St. Mary, of "Kertmell."
In 1233, Cartmel having submitted to the authority of the Holy Roman
Father, received a special mark of his paternal regard. Among the
duchy muniments, transferred some years ago to the Record Office,
London, is a Papal Bull of protection granted by Gregory IX. "to his
beloved children the Prior of St. Mary of Karmel and to his brethren,
present and future, professing the religious life for ever." Mr.
Herford, the editor of the second volume of Baines's "Lancashire," has
given a careful translation of this remarkable document, which is of
considerable length. It begins with the declaration that "It is fit
that apostolic succour should attend those who choose the religious
life, lest by chance some fit of rashness should call them back from
what they have proposed, or take away the sacred power of religion.
Therefore my chosen children in the Lord, we graciously assent to your
just request, and have taken the Church of the Holy Mother of God,
the Virgin Mary of Kermel, in which ye are engaged in divine service,
under the protection of the blessed Peter and ourselves, and favour
you with the privilege of the present writing." The grant then decrees
that the church shall enjoy certain immunities, ordains that the
canonical orders of St. Augustine shall be observed, and confirms to
the church all its possessions, and, further, gives licence to perform,
during a general interdict, religious service, provided it was done
in a low voice and without ringing of bells, those interdicted and
excommunicated being excluded, and the doors kept closed--a general
interdict being the occasion when, under the orders of the Sovereign
Pontiff, public prayers and all ecclesiastical rites were to be laid
aside, the sacraments to be no longer administered, except to infants
and dying persons, and the dead to be cast into ditches by the wayside
without any religious ceremonial. Power was also given to prohibit the
building of any chapel or oratory within the limits of the parish, and
any ecclesiastic or layman knowingly contravening the provisions of the
Bull was threatened with the terrors of excommunication.
During the palmy days of its prosperity the head of the house at
Cartmel was an important personage; his priory not only held the
privilege of exemption from general interdicts, but he himself was
free from the various spiritual and temporal ills that monastic flesh
was heir to, and had, moreover, the right of holding his court and
trying and deciding disputes within the manor, with liberty to inflict
punishment upon offenders; and when his claim was disputed, as it was
in 1292, though the rights to wreck of the sea and waifs which he had
claimed were declared forfeit to the King, his demand of the privileges
of sok, sak, tol, theam, infangthef, and utfangthef, as they are
expressed in the jargon of the day, was conceded, which means that he
was entitled to the privileges of a manorial lord to hold the pleas in
his own court in matters arising out of disputes with his own tenants;
of imposing fines therein and enforcing his decrees; of judging
bondsmen and villeins as well as of punishing thieves found within his
own lands, and requiring that those dwelling within his manor, if taken
for felony beyond, be tried within his own court.
The time was, however, approaching when the iron rod of this disposer
of the lives and liberties of those settled around him was to be broken
in pieces and the people delivered from priestly domination. A mighty
change in religious thought and action was taking place which gradually
gained strength, and culminated in that great event which swept like
a tornado over the land when the once zealous champion of the Romish
system, to replenish his exhausted exchequer, became the plunderer
of the Church that had bestowed on him the title of "Defender of the
Faith," and swept away prior and abbot, pride, pomp and power, and
shrines and relics from their ancient and accustomed places.
In 1535 the King ordered a general visitation of the religious houses.
In the autumn of that year Leyton, Lee, and Petre, with Dr. John
London, Dean of Wallingford, the commissioners, made their appearance
and summoned the prior and monks to give an account of their worldly
possessions. In the MS. surveys then made the total income varies in
amount from £89 4s. 7d. to £91 6s. 3d., while Speed, the antiquary,
rates it at £124 2s. 1d., the lowest computation being equal to an
annual income of £2,141 10s. at the present day. In the following year
the Act was passed confiscating to the Crown all the religious houses
whose yearly income did not amount to £200, and Cartmel was included in
the list of those doomed by the King. We need not dwell upon the way in
which the Royal tyrant's edict went forth, or how the good and the bad,
the honest and the corrupt, among the religious houses were ordered to
be dismantled.
The brotherhood of Cartmel, however, made a vigorous protest against
this invasion of their rights, and petitioned for a new survey on
the ground that the previous valuation did not include the whole of
the sources from which their income was derived. Commissioners were
again sent down, when the Prior presented a return which included the
income derived from lands and the tithes collected at the tithe-barns
of Godderside, Flookburgh, and Allithwaite, and also the oblations
made "at the Relyke of the Holy Crosse," preserved within their Priory
Church, the total revenue being thus increased from £89 4s. 7d. to £212
12s. 10d. A copy of this survey is preserved among the Duchy Records in
the Record Office, and is especially interesting from the circumstance
of its giving the names of the canons on the foundation at that time,
the number and names of the servants, artificers, and husbandmen
employed about the establishment, with the nature of their respective
occupations. Richard Preston was then the prior, and "of the age of
forty-one yerys;" James Eskerige was sub-prior, and there were in
addition eight canons. The "waytyng s'v'ntes" numbered ten "wayters,"
two "woodeleaders," two "shep'des," and one hunter. The "comon officers
and artyfycers of the house" included the brewer, baker, barber, cook
"skulyan," "butler of the ffratrye," "keeper of the woode," milner,
ffysher, wryght, pulter, ffestman, and maltmaker, with two others whose
occupations are obliterated in the manuscript, and in addition to these
there were eight hinds, making a total of thirty-eight, in addition
to the ten ecclesiastics, a number that seems out of proportion to
the religious inmates of the house, notwithstanding that there were
considerable demesne lands under cultivation. But the protestations of
the Prior were of little avail. Thomas Holcroft had conceived a desire
to become owner of the groves of Cartmel, and that mighty trafficker
in church lands was a man not easily moved from his purpose; Cartmel
was doomed, and Richard Preston had no choice but to surrender his high
trust or run the risk of being hanged at the gate of his own Priory, as
some ecclesiastics were who hesitated to avow their belief that Henry
VIII. was God's vicegerent on earth, or who refused to voluntarily give
up to his minions the fair places that had been their homes to become
wanderers like so many Cains over the face of the earth.
Though the Act which authorised the suppression of the Priory was
passed in April, 1536, it was not until the following year that the
King's Commissioners proceeded to the accomplishment of their task.
The Earls of Derby and Sussex, with their satellites, Southwell,
Tunstall, Leybourne, Byron, Sandford, and Holcroft, were deputed to
undertake the work; fit instruments they were, and very effectually
they accomplished their purpose. They demolished the walls of the
cloisters and levelled to the dust the other portions of the monastic
buildings which then extended across the river on arches up to the
tower gateway, the only vestige of the house which now remains. The
work of destruction fell less heavily upon the church, not because
it was less suited to the purposes of the levellers, but because it
was parochial as well as monastic, and the parishioners claimed it as
belonging to them, though it must be confessed they had not done much
to entitle them to consideration at the hands of the rapacious Henry.
If tradition is to be relied on, they had urged their prior to join the
insurrection instigated by the northern monks, commonly known as the
"Pilgrimage of Grace," but that cautious and time-serving ecclesiastic
fled to Preston, where the Earl of Derby was engaged raising an
army for the suppression of the revolt, and claimed his protection,
returning to his Priory only to be a few short months later ejected
from it for ever. When the parishioners interposed, pleading that the
church was parochial and therefore beyond the control of his Majesty's
Commissioners, the matter was referred to head-quarters in these
words:--
Item, for ye Church of Cartmell, being the Priorie and also ye P'ich
Church, whether to stand unplucked down or not?
Answer--Ord. by Mr. Chancellor of the Duchie to stand styll.
It'm, for a suet of coopes (suit of copes) claymed by ye inhabitants
of Cartmell to belong to ye Church thereof, the gift of oon Brigg?
Answer--Ord. that the P'ochians shall have them styll.
Item, for a chales (chalice), a Masse Booke, a Vestyment, with other
things necessarie for a P'sh Church claymed by saide P'ochians to be
customablie found by ye P'son of said Church?
No answer.
Though the commissioners were restrained in their "unplucking down" of
the church, much havoc and destruction had been done to the sacred fane
before their hands were stayed. They destroyed the painted windows,
mutilated the carved work, stripped off the roof of the Piper choir and
other parts of the fabric, and thus effectually got rid of the inmates,
and in that state the church was allowed to remain for a period of
eighty years, when Mr. George Preston, of Holker, with some assistance
from the parishioners, repaired the dilapidated edifice generally, and
decorated the inside with a stuccoed ceiling, and the choir and chancel
with a profusion of curiously and elaborately carved wood work.
In 1541 Henry VIII. granted the site of the Priory to Thomas Holcroft,
an unscrupulous agent whom an unscrupulous master afterwards knighted,
but he did not keep it long, having in 32 Henry VIII. exchanged it with
the King for other lands in the south of England, when it again came
into possession of the Crown as part of the Duchy of Lancaster, and so
continued until the time of Charles I., when, with other lands forming
part of the manor of Cartmel, which had been granted by King James to
Thomas Emmerson and Richard Cowdall, it was conveyed to George, son of
Christopher Preston, of Holker, whose great-granddaughter Katharine
conveyed it in marriage to Sir William Lowther; and her grandson, also
Sir William Lowther, dying issueless in 1756, the property passed to
his cousin, Lord George Augustus Cavendish, from whom it has descended
with other Cartmel property to the present Duke of Devonshire, who is
also patron and lay rector; the advowson with the tithes of Cartmel,
which, in 1561, were annexed to the see of Chester, having been granted
in 1561 by the Bishop of Chester to the George Preston, of Holker,
before named.
Cartmel has a quiet, staid respectable aspect, with a dignified and
decorous serenity about it that almost leads you to believe the old
place must be conscious of its claim to consideration. You might
fancy it to be a minster town, the air of cloisteral seclusion that
prevails so well according with the superiorities of the church. Many
of the houses have an old-world look about them, and, with a searching
eye, you may find bits of unmistakable antiquity--random corners and
architectural phantasies--enough to store the note-book of any artist
fond of crooked and accidental diversities of grouping. The market
place, which, with one or two straggling streets, constitutes what
there is of town, is an irregular square with a tall stone obelisk that
serves the double purpose of market cross and lamp-post standing in the
middle; the fish stones are on one side, and surrounding it are a few
old-fashioned dwellings ranged in an in-and-out sort of fashion, as if
elbowing one another for frontage. On market days, when the farmers and
the country people come in from the surrounding villages, the place
puts on an air of bustle and activity, but at other times it is quiet
and dreamy enough for the grass to grow upon the pavement. But for a
chance pilgrim from Grange or Cark you might look in vain for a passer
by; the people, too, seem as if the railway had not yet accustomed them
to the novelty of strange faces, for as you go by they peer at you
from their windows, and the shopkeeper who deals in groceries, drapery,
and hardware, and everything besides, comes out on to his doorstep to
gaze after you, wondering what possible business can have brought a
stranger to such a secluded by-way of the world.
On one side of the square is a picturesque relic of the middle ages,
the ancient gateway that once formed the principal approach to the
conventual buildings. It has fallen from its former dignity and been
roughly dealt with by the modern Goths and Vandals, but in its forlorn
and dilapidated state it retains the unmistakable hoariness of age
upon it. The walls are of considerable thickness, and within them are
queer recesses and secret passages that were, doubtless, intended for
safety in time of danger. The groining of the arch has disappeared,
and it is now covered with a coating of plaster; the niche which,
doubtless, once contained the image of the Virgin is tenantless, and
the window lighting the room in which it is said the priors of Cartmel
were wont to hold their manorial court and deal out a rough and ready
kind of justice to their tenantry has lost its mullions, though
happily the trefoil carvings still remain. After the prior and his
canons had been turned adrift, the old gatehouse was purchased by the
inhabitants from George Preston for the sum of £30 and converted into a
"publike schoole-house," and for a period of one hundred and sixty-six
years,--from 1624 to 1790, when another school was built--it continued
to be used for that purpose, the children aforetime having been taught
in the church by a "scriphener."
From the gateway you can trace the outer walls and note the general
arrangement of the priory buildings, the area comprising all being
about twenty-two statute acres.
But the old Priory Church is the great attraction of Cartmel. It is a
noble monument of architectural skill, and we may thank the guardians
of the centuries that the hand of Time has been restrained from
pressing heavily upon it. It overshadows every other building, and
gives an air of dignity and importance to the humble erections that
gather round. Let us take our stand by the low wall that forms the
boundary of the quiet graveyard while we gaze upon the venerable fabric
and drink in the genius of the place. It is an October evening, and
the sun is sinking like a great red ball behind the darkening hills;
the woods are touched with russet and gold, and though the air is
breathlessly calm a few leaves flutter down from the trees that skirt
the churchyard wall. The ancient fane is worth going far to see--a huge
pile of masonry, grey with age, and picturesque by its very diversities
of style. It is cruciform in plan, with a low square tower--low by
comparison, for the apex of the nave roof is nearly as high--rising
from the intersection of the cross to a height of 85ft., and surmounted
by another tower of smaller dimensions, also square in plan, but placed
diagonally to the base of the lower one, as if it were an afterthought
of the builder's, an arrangement so unusual that your attention is
arrested by its oddness. The western front is good, but the master work
is the choir, with its majestic window of nine lofty mullioned lights,
and richly traceried head, 40ft. in height, and occupying nearly the
whole of the eastern gable. A cursory glance is sufficient to show that
the building has been erected at different periods--Norman and Early
English--Decorated and Perpendicular mingling in curious combination.
How thoroughly the old monastic builders understood their work.
Whatever may have been their faults and frailties, they were imbued
with a noble enthusiasm which in its religious development found vent
in the sublime conceptions embodied in the magnificent structures which
adorn the land, and which illustrate the rise, the progress, and the
decay of Gothic art. Unfettered by the rules which curb and restrain
the hand of the architect of modern days, their genius imparted its
own spirit to the hand of the mason, whose skill is manifested in
the glorious creations which command our admiration by the vastness
of their proportions, the simple grace and beauty of their design,
and the elegance of their ornamentation; while their sculptures and
carvings, in which burlesque and satire oftentimes ran riot, were
marked by a quaintness of conceit, every touch of the chisel seeming
to impart a life and character and spirit that you look for in vain
in the productions of the craftsman of modern times. Look with loving
eyes upon the grand old pile as it reposes in the evening sunshine;
a saintly stillness prevails, and a soft, shadowy haze is gradually
shrouding the distant landscape from view. The mellowing light, as
it falls on battlement and buttress, corbel and gargoyle, brings out
every projection and inequality with wondrous effect, and softens into
beauty every scar and furrow which the corrosive hand of Time has made
upon it. You long to linger upon the scene, and not without a wish that
Time would retrace his steps and show you the place as it was in its
pristine glory before the men of religion had begun "to draw too proud
a breath" and General Aske and his 40,000 ragamuffins had entered upon
that perilous enterprise "the Pilgrimage of Grace."
But our reverie is cut short; for while we have been gazing upon the
scene of quiet beauty, William Lancaster, the parish clerk, has left
his saddlery and brought his keys, in order to show us over the fabric,
and an intelligent and companionable guide he is, neither fussy nor
obtrusive, but possessing a fund of reliable information that is
serviceable to the stranger who wishes to spend a pleasant hour in
examining the details.
The first thought that strikes the visitor on entering is the loftiness
of the interior, and the long perspective of the nave and choir. The
pillars which support the central tower are of Norman character and of
massive proportions, the arches springing from them being pointed and
of somewhat later date. In the centre of the roof is a panel with the
inscription, _Gloria in Excelsis Deo Aedif._, 1188. _Renov._ 1850, upon
a garter, and on the other parts are four heraldic shields, on which
are blazoned the arms of (1) William Mareschall, Earl of Pembroke,
the founder; (2) the Prestons, of Holker; (3) the archiepiscopal see
of York; and (4) the arms of the see of Carlisle. The inscription
on the centre panel shows that the church was renovated in 1850.
The work has been thorough and complete, under the direction of Mr.
Paley, of Lancaster, who, while carefully retaining whatever was
worth preserving, has succeeded in bringing to light many interesting
features that were previously hidden from view, and has thus entitled
himself to the gratitude of every lover of mediæval art. The flat
ceilings have been removed, the galleries cleared away, the walls
stripped of their plaster covering, the triforium arcade reopened,
and the carved masonry relieved of the paint and whitewash with which
successive generations of churchwardens had industriously clogged every
bit of ornament they could find, so that the building now presents much
the same appearance that it must have done in its palmy days. The choir
is of unusually large dimensions, and worthy almost of a cathedral.
It is separated from the chapels by two circular arches of Norman
character, with elaborately ornamented mouldings; above them is a fine
triforium arcade of twenty-two pointed arches on each side, springing
from cylindrical shafts, with a passage running behind that seems
to have been originally carried round the east end. The grand east
window contains some remains of ancient glass, sufficient to show how
exquisitely beautiful it must have been ere "Maister Thomas Houlcrofte"
and his myrmidons made such havoc with it. The reredos occupying the
space between the sill of the window and the top of the communion
table is divided into panels and filled in with a series of frescoes
in gold and colour that display considerable artistic skill; they are
the work of Lady Louisa Egerton, the wife of Captain Egerton, R.N.,
and daughter of the Duke of Devonshire. An interesting feature in the
choir is the series of stalls, twenty-six in number, that were used by
the canons before the priory was dissolved; they are of Perpendicular
character and handsomely carved, though unfortunately the ornamentation
has been much injured by exposure to the weather during the long years
the church remained unroofed. Each stall has its miserere or projecting
bracket on the under side of the seat, which, as was customary in
pre-Reformation times, works upon a kind of hinge, so that when turned
up it would, without actually forming a seat, afford considerable
relief to the ecclesiastics during those long services of the Roman
Catholic Church in which they were required to remain in a standing
posture. These seats will well repay examination; each is elaborately
carved, and the artist has given full play to his fancy. One of them
displays the emblems of the Saviour's Passion, but, in addition to
the usual crown of thorns and the nails, we have the ear which Peter
struck off the head of the High Priest's servant, the sword with which
that rash act was performed, the basin in which Pilate washed his
hands, the dice with which the soldiers cast lots for the Saviour's
vesture, and the sponge that, when filled with vinegar, was presented
to him while on the cross. Another seat symbolises the Trinity by the
carving of three faces on one head; the favourite device of the mermaid
with the usual attributes--the comb and mirror--also appears, and a
common subject of mediæval sculpture--a pelican feeding its young,
or "in piety," as the heralds phrase it--is also represented. The
other carvings are for the most part grotesque heads, winged beasts,
and foliage. The canopies over the stalls are of much later date,
and were the gift of George Preston, of Holker, who in 1619 repaired
and re-roofed the building. The columns supporting them have richly
carved Corinthian capitals, and are interesting as showing that in that
comparatively early period the classic forms of ornamentation had come
into vogue in this remote corner of Lancashire, and that Grecian had
then begun to take the place of Gothic art.
The year 1850 marked the inauguration of a happy era in the history of
Cartmel; it was that in which the much-needed renovation of the church
may be said to have begun. The zeal which prompted George Preston in
1616 to restore the ruined sanctuary to something like its pristine
beauty found imitators. In that year Mr. Remington, the vicar, appealed
for funds to enable him to put the decayed and crumbling edifice in
a state of decent repair. His appeal was liberally responded to, and
he had the satisfaction of seeing many of the hideous obstructions
which past ages had crowded together removed, the flat plaster ceiling
which disfigured the centre of the church cleared away, and the walls
and pillars denuded of their accumulations of paint and whitewash.
The work which he began was carried on with increased energy by his
successor, Mr. Hubbersty, and extended throughout the nave and the
north and south transepts. The progress was slow, but continuous;
seventeen years were occupied upon it, and in the autumn of 1867 it was
pronounced to be complete.
The windows--
All garlanded with carven imageries
And diamonded with panes of quaint device--
which once told the story of the line of Jesse and dyed the pavement
with their many-hued reflections had been despoiled of their painted
glass, not by the ruthless reformers of the sixteenth century, but, as
Mr. Stockdale, the historian of Cartmel, with good reason affirms, many
years before, when a portion of the glass was carried off to beautify
the church at Bowness, where it may still be seen; the few fragments,
however, that remained were carefully preserved and protected from
further risk of injury. That monopoliser of Church property, Thomas
Holcroft, took away everything he could lay his hands on, including, as
the survey expresses it, the "Belles, Lede, and Goodes," destroying at
the same time whatever in his opinion might be described as relics of
superstitious devotion. What he left undone the Iconoclasts of a later
date very effectually accomplished. It is worthy of note, however,
that in the troublous times of the Civil Wars Cartmel suffered little
as compared with many other churches in the kingdom, the only injury
it sustained being the perforation of the door at the west end of the
south aisle with a number of shot holes--the work, as the inhabitants
assure you, of Cromwell's troopers, which, if the story is to be relied
on, must have been in 1644, when Colonel Rigby and his men, after
plundering Dalton, passed the night at Cartmel on their way to Thurland
Castle. It is more likely, however, to have been some of Prince
Rupert's soldiers who thus left their mark behind them, for though
Thomas Preston, of Holker, the patron of the church, was a staunch
Royalist, the parson and the people of Cartmel were attached to the
cause of the Parliament; and John Shaw, the puritan rector of Lymm,
records in his diary that when he was there for a time, "preaching
and catechising in season and out of season," he had "frequently
some thousands of hearers," and that "usually the churches were so
thronged by nine o'clock in the morning that he had much adoe to get
to the pulpit." The diarist adds, "How the Prince Rupert's soldiers
there caryed themselves at and near Cartmel, that country will tell
to posterity," though, if it did, the "posterity" to whom it was told
neglected to hand down the story.
It is only fair to say that some of the most reprehensible acts of
vandalism to which the edifice has been subjected have been perpetrated
within the present century. From the time of the Commonwealth until
the Victorian era ecclesiastical architecture was comparatively
neglected, and it is perhaps fortunate for the present generation that
it should have been, else we might have seen many a grand old Gothic
pile of pre-Reformation date destroyed to make room for miserable
monstrosities of brick of the fashion of the Queen Anne and the
Georgian periods, a style that a wretched taste has within the last
few years sought to resuscitate. Little more than two generations
ago architectural art was at its lowest ebb, with little prospect
of its ever being revived. Utilitarianism was the order of the day,
and, much as we are disposed to blame country churchwardens for their
misdoings, half our indignation vanishes when we remember that they
only followed the example set them by their betters. Fifty years ago
or thereabouts the "Improvers" were let loose upon the ancient fane at
Cartmel, when, as Mr. Stockdale in his _Annales Caermoelensis_ tells
us, "the wooden rails of the Harrington monument, split with the axe
out of logs of oak, before the use of the plane or the general use
of the saw (indices of high antiquity), were torn down and committed
to the flames, and a smart iron railing put up in their stead. The
quaintly-fashioned old font, at which the whole population of the
parish of Cartmel--generation after generation--had been christened
for nearly seven hundred years, was subjected anew to the mason's
chisel, and fashioned into its present shape, and a modern date (1832)
cut in large figures upon it. The old Matin Bell, which had summoned
the monks of St. Mary to prayers for three hundred and fifty years,
and afterwards the townspeople of Cartmel and the neighbourhood to
their duties on saints' days and Sundays for nearly three hundred and
fifty years more, was torn down from its resting place, and sold to a
neighbouring gentleman--not to call his workmen and labourers to their
prayers, but to warn them that the hour for the commencement of their
daily toil had arrived." Since then, however, happier days have dawned
upon the place.
It is somewhat remarkable that a church of so much historic interest
and antiquity should possess so few sepulchral memorials of
pre-Reformation date. The oldest known to exist is the tomb of William
Walton, the first prior; it stands beneath a plain pointed arch on the
north side of the high altar, and is covered with a grey marble slab,
in the centre of which is an incised cross of floreated character, and
the following inscription in Longobardic characters carved upon the
edge--
HIC. IACET. FRATER. WILELMVS. DE. WALTONA.
PRIOR. DE. KERTMEL.
There are some other memorials of departed priors, though the
inscriptions are too much worn to admit of their being deciphered;
but the most imposing is a canopied tomb on which are the recumbent
figures of a knight and his lady, placed beneath an arch on the south
side of the choir. It is commonly known as the Harrington monument, and
has long been a source of perplexity to antiquaries; there is no date
discernible upon it, and considerable doubt exists as to where it came
from--for it is clearly not _in situ_--and which of the Harringtons
it was intended to commemorate. It has been variously assigned to
Sir John Harrington of Hornby, who was knighted by Edward III. in
recognition of his services in Scotland; to Sir Thomas Harrington,
who married a daughter of the house of Dacre, and fell fighting on
the side of the White Rose at Wakefield on the 31st of December,
1460--a day fatal to the House of York and scarcely less fatal to the
victorious Lancastrians--and also to his son, Sir John Harrington, the
brother-in-law of the black-faced Clifford, who received his death-blow
fighting by his father's side in the same battle.
For the benefit of those who are curious in epitaphs we quote the
following from a marble slab on one of the walls of the south
transept:--
1600
HERE BEFORE LYETH INTERRED
ETHELDRED THORNBVRGH CORPS IN DVST
IN LYFE AT DEATH STYLL FYRMELY FIXED
ON GOD TO REST HER STEADFAST TRVST
HIR FATHER JUSTICE CARVS WAS
HIR MOTHER KATHERINE HIS WIFFE
HIR HUSBAND WILLIAM THORNBVRGH WAS
WHYLST HERE SHE LEDD THIS MORTAIL LYFF
THE THYRDE OF MARTCH A YEAR OF GRACE
ONE THOWSAND FYVE HUNDRED NINETIE SIX
HIR SOWLE DEPARTED THIS EARTHLY PLASE
OF AAGE NIGHE FORTIE YEARES A SIX
TO WHOSE SWEET SOVLE HEAVENLYE DWELLING
OVR SAVIOVR GRANT EVERLASTINGE.
There are other parts of the church that bespeak our attention. The
north aisle, commonly known as the Piper Choir--though how it acquired
that name nobody seems to know--retains its original stone vaulting,
and is lighted by Perpendicular windows, in which some fragments of
mediæval painted glass still remain. The south aisle is perfect, and
appears to have been widened at some period subsequent to its original
foundation. In the church books it is described as "Lord Harrington's
Queare," but is now usually designated the parish or town choir, from
the supposition that it constituted the former parish church, which the
prior and his canons had been obliged to enlarge owing to some dispute
between the parishioners and themselves. The windows lighting it are
of early Decorated character of varied design, and on one side is the
original sedilia for the officiating priests, as well as the piscina
in which it was their custom to rinse the chalice at the time of the
celebration of the mass.
Having completed our inspection of the various chapels, the faithful
custos who accompanied us, and who, by the way, though a _rusticus
abnormis sapiens_, is an enthusiast about the church, led the way up
to the triforium, and thence to the top of the lower lantern or tower,
where we had an opportunity of examining more closely the peculiar
disposition of the superstructure. It would seem that a century or
two after the completion of the original tower the fraternity took
it into their heads to erect a bell-tower, but instead of removing
the parapet and raising the walls of the existing structure, as at
Kirkstall, or building a new tower like that of prior Moon at Bolton
Abbey, they determined on making the most of the one they possessed,
and constructed four cross arches, each springing from the centre of
the side walls, on which they reared their campanile with a result that
said more for their originality than their regard for architectural
effect. A few steps lead up to the roof of the second tower, whence a
good view of the surrounding country is obtained, though the range is
somewhat restricted by reason of the comparatively low position the
church occupies and the nearness of the hills which environ the Cartmel
Vale.
Descending again into the body of the church, we passed through
the Piper Choir, and were next ushered into the vestry, where, to
our surprise, we found in addition to the ordinary registers and
churchwardens' accounts a library of some three hundred volumes,
including many rare and curious works bequeathed to the parish in
1692 by Thomas Preston, of Holker, including a black-letter Bible
in six volumes, printed at Basle in 1502; a copy of the works, also
in black-letter, of Thomas Aquinas, printed at Vienna in 1509; an
incomplete copy of Spenser's "Faerie Queene," dated 1596; a Virgil of
the same date; a curious little volume, "Apophthegemes New and Old,
collected by the Right Honourable Francis Lo. Verulam, Viscount St.
Albans, 1625;" and a folio copy of Foxe's Book of Martyrs. The old
clerk sets great store by his literary treasures, and well he may, for
they are such as few church libraries can equal, and are in themselves
enough to make a collector covetous.
The parish registers, which begin in 1559, contain many curious entries
relating to local families, and many a sad story of lives lost in
crossing the treacherous sands of Morecambe Bay; one of the entries
records the disaster which befel a pleasure party, of whom nine were
drowned, while crossing the Leven Sands on their return from Ulverston
Whitsuntide fair, where they had been to purchase the wedding garments
for two of their number who were about to be married.[47] The church
accounts contain, among other things, a very complete record of the
doings of the "twenty-four sworn men,"[48] an influential body whose
jurisdiction extended over a parish nearly fourteen miles in length,
and whose duties were as multifarious as they were onerous, embracing
almost everything, from exterminating mouldiwarpes (moles) and choosing
churchwardens to repairing organs and regaling fox-hunters. But there
are other curiosities preserved in the vestry at Cartmel; among them
is an umbrella of ancient date and cumbrous proportions, which our
cicerone tells us was used in times past to protect the clergyman from
the weather when performing the burial service in the graveyard.[49] It
is of immense weight, and has a thick oilcloth cover that reminds us of
Swift's lines in the _Tatler_--
The tuck'd-up seamstress walks with hasty strides
While streams run down her _oiled umbrella_ sides,
as well as of Gay's _Trivia_--
Good housewives all the winter's rage despise,
Defended by the riding-hood's disguise;
Or underneath th' _umbrella's oily shed_,
Safe through the wet in clinking pattens tread.
The twilight was deepening when we passed out of the stately old pile,
and, bidding adieu to our pleasant, gossiping guide, turned to depart.
The sun had gone down in the western heavens, and the mists were
gathering thick among the surrounding hills, shrouding them in a dreamy
obscurity; the lofty gables and broad squat tower clad in night's sober
livery seemed to have gained additional massiveness and seen through
the dun medium assumed a shadowy weird-like form; the old market-place
seemed to have lulled itself into a still deeper quietude; a few of the
villagers were lingering about their cottage doors, and as we passed on
our way a light might now and then be seen glimmering from the casement
of some humble dwelling, but there was nought to disturb the sense of
calmness and repose. The stillness deepened as the light declined, and
everything seemed to have become wrapped in slumber, save that now and
then we could hear the faint gurgling of some tiny rill trickling down
the hill side, or the baying of a watchdog at some distant moorland
farm mingling with the subdued rumble of a railway train bearing its
living freight across the Leven Sands. One by one the silent watchers
came forth to begin their nightly vigil, guarding the slumbering
earth as 'twere a sleeping child, and then the pale queen of night,
rising slowly from behind the lonely fells, hung her silver crescent
in the blue vault above, and spread a tender radiance on the tranquil
world below. Keeping the dark woods of Holker on our right, a short
half-hour's walk along a lonely road brought us to the little village
of Cark, where--
Somewhat back from the village street
Stands the old-fashioned country seat--
Cark Hall, an old gabled manor house, for generations the residence
of the Curwens and the Rawlinsons. Cark is a station on the Furness
line, and a few minutes after our arrival we were seated in the railway
carriage and rolling along at a rapid rate beneath the wild limestone
crags, over the wild estuary of the Leven, and through the devious
windings of the valleys of Greenodd and Haverthwaite on the way to our
comfortable resting place upon the shores of Windermere, bent on doing
justice to the good fare the "Swan" at Newby Bridge affords, and with
the mind stored with pleasant memories of quiet Cartmel and its grand
old priory church.