October 1538, the nave becoming thenceforward exclusively parochial.
The churchwardens’ accounts furnish an interesting record of the
various changes effected in the screening arrangements. In the year
1546–47 occurred payments to one Thomas Rose for “makyng hols for the
parrtycyon at 5d. the day” for two days and a half; to one Elot for
three days and a half “at makyng vp of the partycyon at the same rate,”
and to one William Doncaster “at syche lyck warke.” The “parclose of
Jesus quere with the lawft (loft) wher they sange” were sold for 3s.
in the same year. During the reign of Edward VI. two carvers were
employed in setting up the new parclose and also in “settyng vp the old
parcloses and makyng a lytell voute” (vault); and a painter was paid
8d. for washing (_i.e._ whitewashing) the rood-loft. The rood-images
were first ill-treated by darkening their faces, and subsequently
taken down altogether. They were replaced under Queen Mary, and again
removed after Elizabeth had come to the throne (1559–60). In the
same year the rood-loft was white-washed once more; it was taken down
in 1564. In 1570, however, further items relating to the same were
entered in the accounts:--Workmen at the taking down of the rood-loft
received 2d.; the painter 8d. “for payntyng the rode-lofte before yt
was takyn downe.” The vicar purchased the timber of the loft for 6s.
8d. A subsequent expenditure of 3s. 2d. “for makyng of a creste for the
roode-lofte” in 1571 refers to the brattishing erected, according to
royal mandate, along the top of the screen in place of the demolished
rood-loft. And yet, still later, in 1637 a contractor covenanted to
take down part of the loft.
From the above extracts two things are clear: firstly, that the
rood-loft was of timber (the screen beneath it being most likely of
the same material); and secondly, that after the dissolution there
occurred a somewhat extensive rearrangement of the screens. Precisely
what this rearrangement involved is far from clear. An examination of
the exterior of the existing east end shows that the respond of the
western crossing arch which projects inward 5 in. on the north and
south alike, is cut away abruptly underneath at a height of some 8
ft. from the ground, affording a clear opening of 21 ft. across. That
this is no wanton mutilation, but the original scheme (1103–1170), is
proved by the fact that the attached angle-shaft is not carried down
to be cut through with the respond itself, but that it finishes, just
above the truncation, with a regular base, moulded and resting upon
the square quoin. The significance of this detail is that the ritual
quire, bounded by the pulpitum at the west, extended westwards at least
as far as the western crossing. It probably included the whole of the
first bay below the crossing, since the first arch of the arcade below
the crossing remained walled until the “restoration,” in 1846. What
appears to have happened, consequent upon the dissolution, is that the
canons’ pulpitum was removed bodily, and the whole of the three bays
below the crossing turned into the parochial chancel, the rood-screen
remaining where it had always stood, at the third pair of piers below
the crossing, but being adapted--as a solid stone screen could not,
but as this, a timber screen, could be--for the purposes of the parish
chancel screen. Moreover, below the crossing the second and third
arches of the nave arcades were then fitted with wooden parcloses to
form side enclosures for the chancel. Until the “restoration” of 1846 a
considerable part of these screens survived, at any rate, on the north
side. An upright timber remained against the first pier of the north
arcade below the crossing; while the next arch, the third below the
crossing, was occupied by a parclose then standing complete, according
to Rev. E. Trollope. Previously to the “restoration” there were evident
traces of the former presence of the rood-screen, “portions of the
capitals of the third pair of pillars having been cut away to admit of
its erection.” Screens crossed the aisles in line with the rood-screen,
the screen across the north aisle remaining complete until the
“restoration” of 1846. Richard Nicholson, the architect responsible,
writing in 1850, admits that, in the process of removing the galleries,
pews, and other eighteenth-century incumbrances from the nave, “a few
specimens of ancient oak ... screens were found in various parts of
the church, but little that was worth preserving, except as objects of
curiosity.” Thus everything was ruthlessly sacrificed, so that when
the sweeping “restoration” was finished, it not only left the building
denuded of its ancient fittings, but even obliterated such marks as
had until that time survived to testify to the former existence of the
fittings. A step, intersecting the nave floor, just to west of the
third bay below the crossing, now alone remains to indicate the site of
the rood-screen. (October 1911.)
WYSALL (October 1911).--There is no chancel-arch, but across the
chancel-opening stands an oak rood-screen dating from about 1440.
Rectangular in construction, it comprises a wide compartment, opening
3 ft. 11 in., fitted with gates, for the entrance, between two
compartments on either hand, centring from 2 ft. 6 in. to 2 ft. 6½ in.
and divided into two lights apiece. The middle rail is exceptionally
massive, being 9 in. high; and its moulding is reproduced at the same
level in the shape of returns to the standards, which appear to have
had similarly moulded bases, only those, however, of the doorway jambs
remaining. The standards are 6 in. wide by 7½ in. thick from front
to back. The wainscot, about 3 ft. 7 in. high, consists of plain
panels, without tracery, but the two southernmost ones are pierced
with elevation-squints. The panel immediately south of the doorway
has, near the south upper corner, a group of four chamfered round
holes, about ⅞ in. in diameter, arranged lozengewise. The southernmost
panel contains several holes, at different levels. On the left is a
single round hole, chamfered; next is a chamfered aperture, about 2½
in. high, of two overlapping circles, the upper one larger than the
lower; next, just under the rail, is a hole, measuring about 1½ in.
either way, rectangular at the bottom and semi-circular at the top;
and lastly, at the right-hand upper corner, is a group of three round
holes, two and one. The fenestration openings are 5 ft. 6½ in. high,
with Perpendicular tracery in the head to the depth of 2 ft. 3½ in. The
four-centred arch of the doorway springs 2 or 3 in. lower. The tracery,
plain and flat at the back, once consisted of two orders on its western
face. The first order, of trefoil-headed ogees, has perished from the
side openings, but part of it survives in the door-head in the shape
of a superimposed moulding to the four-centred arch, crocketed along
its upper edge. The lintel has a deep cavetto, filled at intervals by
seven square Gothic pateras, which seem all except one to be modern.
The screen was “restored” in 1873. The ground-cill has been wrongly
removed and the gates consequently rehung some 2 or 3 in. too high,
thus breaking the level of the middle-rail line and spoiling the
logical coherence of the design. The screen now stands 9 ft. 11 in.
high, and though the lintel extends 15 ft. 8 in. long from wall to
wall, the body of the screen is about 1 ft. too short for its place. In
the north wall of the nave, at a distance of 7 ft. 9 in. from where the
rood-screen now stands, is a chase (10 in. high by 4 in. wide) which
may have held the support of the rood-loft front at its north end. In
that case the opposite or south-west corner of the loft would have been
carried on a post from the ground. A boarded tympanum existed “till
quite lately”--so it was said in 1902. A ring in the ridge-piece of the
nave roof, about 3 ft. from the east end of the nave, probably served
for suspending the light before the Great Rood.
[Illustration:
_Photo: Mr. Aymer Vallance._
WYSALL CHURCH: ROOD-SCREEN.]
NOTE.--I regret that want of time and space compels me
to omit all notice of some important screenwork, _e.g._ at
Barton in Fabis and Tuxford.
In conclusion, I have to thank the Thoroton Society and
Miss Frere for their courteous permission to reproduce
the latter’s drawing of the south door of the pulpitum at
Southwell (permission of which, however, I have not been able
to take advantage); Mr. A. Lineker for kindly going to Blyth
to photograph one of the screens there expressly for this
work, and for permission to reproduce the same and also his
beautiful photograph of the east elevation of the pulpitum at
Southwell; to Messrs. Saunders & Saunders, architects, for
permission to reproduce their drawing of Holme church screens;
to Mr. Harry Gill and Mr. E. L. Guilford for photographs and
valuable notes, and the Rev. Dr. Cox, F.S.A., Rev. H. Hudson,
and Mr. T. M. Blagg, F.S.A., for much useful information; and
lastly, the clergy, who have kindly permitted me to take notes,
measurements, and photographs in a number of churches throughout
the county.
AYMER VALLANCE.
THE CIVIL WAR IN NOTTINGHAMSHIRE
BY EVERARD L. GUILFORD, M.A.
The Civil War has so unique a character that its study gives us a far
deeper insight into the thoughts and feelings of the average Englishman
than we should gain by turning our attention to any other outstanding
episode in the history of England.
Though the war was general throughout England, yet it was really
composed of a number of small local wars, which went on irrespective
of the general war, except when the tide of this greater drifted the
armies within the sphere of the less.
To understand clearly the nature of the Civil War in any one county,
it is necessary to grasp the basic characteristics of the war in
general, and to gauge the extent of local influences. There is a
great temptation to compare the Civil War with the French Revolution.
The ends were similar, in that both resulted in the execution of the
reigning monarch and the institution of a republic. And yet beyond this
there is little or no similarity. After studying the French Revolution,
we feel that the Civil War was merely playing at revolution, and when
we come to examine the facts more closely, we find that our Civil War
cannot be called a revolution at all. It is only a rebellion--a great
rebellion. Here were no downtrodden rebels fighting for the wealth of
the upper classes, but instead a body of intellectual and prosperous
men struggling for the retention of what they believed to be their
religious and political rights. It was not a war of classes. Without
the religious differences there would have been no war: for without
the religious fervour there could have been no Parliamentary force of
sufficient strength to combat the inborn and ingrained reverence for
the name of King. Elsewhere in Europe, where religion had been the
mainspring of war, brutality and cruelty had been ever to the front;
but this was not so in England, for, to quote Mr. G. M. Trevelyan, “two
minorities were fighting under critical inspection for the favour of
all England, and when rivals duel they take care not to wound their
mistress.”
Local jealousy might cause cruelty, but, as a rule, the war was as kind
and merciful as a war can be. Another point that needs emphasis is,
that it was a war between two minorities. The majority of Englishmen
took no active part in the struggle--at any rate at first--though later
the non-combatants found that they were plundered by both sides alike,
and consequently joined that which they believed would best protect
their homes. One class held aloof altogether. The hired labourer had
no interest either way. If he joined in the war, it was either because
of local influence or because he was forced into service by the
ever-present pressgang.
We have no space here to give an outline of the events preceding
the outbreak of the Civil War; nor indeed would such an account be
pertinent to the matter in hand.
Charles’s failure in foreign wars was followed by an inevitable desire
for money, which was not forthcoming by constitutional means. Forced
loans, free gifts, and ship-money were resorted to, with little
success. Much bitterness was caused, and soon there appeared a small
party of men who realised that if the liberty of England was to be
saved, Charles must be released from the chains thrown round him by
such counsellors as Strafford. This body of constitutionalists, as
they considered themselves, included men like the Earl of Essex, Pym,
Hampden, and others, who played prominent parts during the coming war.
Feelings gradually became more embittered, and when in March 1642
Parliament tried to deprive Charles of his command of the militia,
the quarrel became irreconcilable. Charles was in the North, and on
April 23 arrived at Hull, where a large store of munition was awaiting
transhipment to London. The Governor of the town, Sir John Hotham,
refused the King admission to the town, and Charles called on the
trained bands of the neighbouring counties to help him to force his way
into this rebellious seaport.
The impracticability of the whole question is well seen when, on June
2, the Parliament sent their Nineteen Propositions to the King. No
possible basis of discussion could result from so one-sided a document.
Negotiations of a kind were entered into, and Charles undertook to
make no further attempt to capture Hull until July 27. Meanwhile he
visited Doncaster, Newark, Nottingham, and Leicester. At Newark, where
he reviewed the county trained bands, he showed his trust in this loyal
borough--a trust which events proved was not misplaced. His speech to
the citizens of Newark was as follows:--
“Your honest resolutions and affections to me and your country,
for the defence of my person and the laws of the land, have
been and are so notable, that they have drawn me hither only
to thank you: I go to other places to confirm and undeceive my
subjects, but am come hither only to thank and encourage you:
you who have made the best judgment of happiness by relying on
that foundation which the experience of so many hundred years
hath given such proof of--the assurance and security of the law:
and assure yourselves when laws shall be altered by any other
authority than that by which they were made, your foundations
are destroyed, and though it seems at first but to take away my
power, it will quickly swallow all your interest. I ask nothing
of you (though your demeanour gives me good evidence that you
are not willing to deny), but to preserve your own affections to
the religion and laws established. I will justify and protect
those affections and will live and die with you in that quarrel.”
To obtain a clear understanding of this war, a few statistics are
necessary. The population of England was about five millions, of whom
six-sevenths lived south of the Trent, and out of this whole number
not more than 2½ per cent. took any part in the struggle. London, of
course, was the largest town, with 500,000 inhabitants, and Bristol and
Norwich were next, with some 30,000 each, while no town in the north
had half this number. Roughly stated, it may be said that the strength
of the King lay in the north and west, and that of the Parliament in
the south and east. Thus it will be seen that the predominance, as far
as population (and consequently commercial prosperity) went, was with
the Parliament. Do not let us imagine for one moment that the Houses
of Parliament were unanimous in their antagonism to the Royalists.
Professor Firth calculates that 30 peers supported the Parliament and
80 the King. Of the Lower House, 300 were Parliamentarians and 175
Royalists.
All through the struggle, the difficulty on both sides was to find
recruits for the army. There was no standing army and no regular
troops, with the exception of a few garrisons. The only forces were
the trained bands, and, except those in London, who were strongly
Parliamentarian, these took little or no share in the struggle,
refusing in most cases to leave the counties in which they had been
raised. Thus the party with the longest purse was sure to win. At
first the generosity of his adherents gave Charles a great financial
predominance, but in the end the steady flow of wealth from the
commercial centres threw the balance on to the other side.
Parliament tried to raise an army and pay for it by means of weekly
assessments on the counties. Nottinghamshire was assessed at £187,
10s., Leicestershire at the same figure, Derbyshire at £175, while
Lincolnshire had to find £812 and London £10,000. In Nottinghamshire
the raising of regiments was entrusted to Sir Francis Thornhaugh of
Fenton, near Sturton le Steeple; Sir Francis Molineux, who declined to
act; and Mr. Francis Pierrepont, son of the Earl of Kingston.
Before we go any further, it may not be amiss to give a list of the
gentry who sided with the King, and of those who were Parliamentarians.
_Royalists_: the Earl of Newcastle and his son, the Earl of
Kingston and his eldest son, Lord Chesterfield and all his family,
Lord Chaworth, Mr. Golding and other Catholic gentry, Sir John Byron
and all his brothers, Sir John Savile, Sir Gervase Eyre, Sir John
Digby, Sir Matthew Palmer, Sir Thomas Williamson, Sir Roger Cooper, Sir
W. Hickman, Sir Hugh Cartwright, Sir T. Willoughby, Sir Thomas Smith,
Sir Thomas Blackwell, and members of the following lesser families:
Markham, Parkyns (Thomas and his son Isham), Tevery, Pearce, Wood,
Staunton, Saunderson, Moore, Mellish, Butler, Rolleston, Lascelles,
Neville, Burnell, Holder, Wyld, Leek, Clay, Gilby, Lee, Shipman, North,
Apsley, Colley, Newport, Holland, Hacker, Holden, Pocklington, and
Green.
_Parliamentarians_: Mr. Sutton (afterwards Lord Lexington), Sir
Gervase Clifton (who became a royalist), Mr. William Pierrepont (who
did not serve in Nottinghamshire), Mr. Thomas Hutchinson and his sons
John and George, Mr. Henry Ireton, Mr. Edward Whalley, Mr. Gilbert
Millington, Mr. Francis Hacker, Sir Francis Thornhaugh and his son, Mr.
Pigott, Mr. Wright, Mr. Widmerpool, Mr. Scrimshire, and Mr. Acklom of
Wiseton Hall.
From this list it will readily be seen that Nottinghamshire was
strongly Royalist--so predominantly so, that it is difficult to account
for the fact that Charles’s summons to his supporters to meet him at
Nottingham was so scantily answered. This summons was issued from York
on August 12, and the meeting was to be on August 22, when the standard
would be raised.
At this point we are met by several problems which require
consideration. Why did Charles raise the standard of war before he was
ready to fight? Why did he choose Nottingham for that purpose? And why
was he so badly supported in this very Royalist county?
At no time during the war did Charles ever really want to fight.
He was the victim of circumstances: he was blind to facts, and he
under-estimated his opponents’ strength, as they did his. He thought,
doubtless, that such a direct challenge as the raising of the standard
would frighten the Houses into submission. The sacred name of King
would be a rallying point. Men might criticise, but they would not
fight against their King. The reverence for the person of the monarch,
which had reached its height during Elizabeth’s reign, was still great,
notwithstanding a steady decline, and there is no doubt that many men
were influenced by this feeling. They agreed with the theory of the
Parliament’s demands; but when it came to practice, they would fight
for their King, even against their better judgment. Charles hoped that
the challenge would prove a lifebelt in the sea of his difficulties; he
found that it was a millstone. But this does not explain why he raised
the standard before he had an army. He felt that many places, and
especially the seaports, were slipping away from him, and he hoped to
save them by this step. His hope was false, and before long the fleet
and all the great seaports were in the hands of his enemies. Charles’s
choice of Nottingham was probably due, in the first place, to his
belief in the loyalty of the gentry in the county, and, in the second
place, he had doubtless heard that Nottingham was a strong military
position, with its Castle standing high above the Trent, which was only
to be crossed at the Hethbeth Bridge--a position easily defended--and
possibly also at Wilford. He must have been very disappointed to find
that the river was very low, and was easily fordable at various points
close to the town. Of the ruinous condition of the Castle and town
defences he must have been aware, for he was no stranger to the town.
The reason for the bad support accorded him is difficult to discover.
Perhaps most of the gentry were already at Nottingham, but if so, they
had brought few followers; probably many wished to remain neutral,
though later events caused them to throw in their lot with Charles.
Much has been written of the raising of the standard, and here, since
space is limited, we must not go into details. The King arrived at
Nottingham on August 19, and almost immediately was compelled to set
out for Coventry, which, he heard, was in danger of capture. His
journey was futile, and he returned crestfallen on August 22. That
evening the standard was raised, probably on a slight eminence in a
field to the north of the Castle, now in the grounds of the General
Hospital, and after the ceremony it was carried into the Castle, this
procedure being repeated every day till the 25th.
Charles’s position was not enviable. He had thrown down the formal
challenge, and was now finding, when too late, that he had not the
forces at his back to uphold such a challenge. The general feeling of
most Englishmen at this time was truly expressed by Lord Savile when he
wrote: “I would not have the King trample on the Parliament, nor the
Parliament lessen him so much as to make a way for the people to rule
us all.”
A Parliamentary army of 20,000 men was stationed at Northampton,
heavily outnumbering the forces assembled at Nottingham. Prince Rupert
was stationed at Queensborough, between Leicester and Melton Mowbray,
with his cavalry. Unable to fight, Charles fell back upon negotiations.
Though he had little hope of any success by this means, he recognised
that by forcing the Parliament to refuse offers of peace, he would
bring over to his side many who viewed the prospect of open war with
horror. The first message left Nottingham on August 25, in the hands
of the Earls of Southampton and Dorset, Sir John Culpepper, and Sir
William Uvedale. Even before any answer was received, Charles had
issued some “Instructions to his Commissioners of Array,” which show
what he thought would be the result of the deputation. The expected
happened. The Houses sent an unfavourable answer, and further messages
were sent, though all this time both sides were preparing for war. At
first Charles would not avail himself of the services of the Roman
Catholics, who were only too willing to lend him aid and money. This
was a wise step, for Catholics were looked upon with considerable
hatred, and their adhesion would result in the alienation of many.
Eventually, however, the King gave way, for Catholic money was as good
as any other, besides being more plentiful in this time of scarcity.
The leading Catholic in this district was Mr. Golding, who held large
estates at Colston Bassett.
On September 10 the Earl of Essex joined the Parliamentarian forces at
Northampton, and, had he marched at once on Nottingham, it is difficult
to see how Charles could have avoided capture. But Essex dallied for
some unknown reason, and the golden opportunity to end the war at one
stroke passed by and never came again. Charles saw his danger, and
recognised the fact that Nottingham was no longer a safe shelter. On
September 13 he marched to Derby and thence to Shrewsbury, where he was
able to collect such forces as placed him more nearly on an equality,
numerically, with his opponents.
Freed from the presence of the King, Nottingham was open to occupation
by either party. The citizens were divided in their opinions, and
neither party was yet strong enough to take possession of the town.