Winceby is situated about five miles south-east of Horncastle, on the way
to Old Bolingbroke. It is approached by a good road, but leading up and
down hills so steep as to render travelling slow, either for man or
beast. The village itself stands on high ground commanding very
extensive views; the church of West Keal being a conspicuous object to
the east; the lofty tower of Boston looming in the distance, southward,
many miles away; Tattershall Castle and Church, the churches of
Coningsby, Heckington, and others in the Sleaford direction being also
visible, beyond the extensive tracts of fen barred by woods, which
intervene; while, on a clear day, the prospect extends across the Wash to
the low-lying coast of Norfolk. Northward stretches a tract, less
extensive, of varied, undulating ground, with the wooded heights of
Warden Hill, Brinkhill, &c., forming the distant elevated horizon. In
early spring, or on a bright autumnal day, it would be difficult to find
a wider range of view, or more varied colouring, to please the eye. The
parish is small, being but little more than 800 acres in extent,
comprised in one large farm, the homestead of which, a large, lofty, and
somewhat bleak-looking house, occupied by Mr. Edwd. Patchett, forms, with
its surrounding buildings and well-filled stackyard, a prominent feature.
Yet this humble village has had its associations in the past of more than
ordinary interest.
There are few parishes which have not some tradition connected with the
supernatural; and here, on the left of the road to Winceby, in a hollow
in Slash Lane, about half-a-mile before reaching the village, there stood
until recent years a large boulder in the field close by. It was
supposed to cover hidden treasure, and various attempts were made at
different times to remove it, sometimes with six, or even eight horses.
At one of these attempts, his Satanic Majesty, having been invoked by the
local title of “Old Lad,” appeared, it is said, in person, whereupon the
stone fell back, upsetting the horses. On another occasion a black
mouse, probably the same Being incarnate, in another form (compare
assistance rendered by a black mouse to the devil, in Goethe’s Faust),
ran over the gearing of the horses, with a similar result. Eventually,
as a last resort, to break the spell, the boulder was buried, and now no
trace of boulder, black mouse, or Satan’s (Linc. “Samuel’s”) foot-print
remains.
Domesday Book records that the Saxon Agemund held lands here, and in the
adjoining Claxby Pluckacre; and that Walter, a vassal of the wealthy
Norman Gozelin, also held land and a mill of the yearly value of 4_s._,
while the still more powerful Norman, Hugh de Abrincis (Avranches, in
France), Earl of Chester, also received a grant of land in this parish
from his uncle, William the Conqueror. Of this “Baron bold,” we may
observe, in passing, that he acquired the surname of Lupus, or “the
wolf,” from his many daring deeds. In addition to almost the whole of
the county of Chester, which gave him his title, he held about 20 manors
in Lincolnshire, 22 in Leicestershire, 12 in Norfolk, 32 in Suffolk,
besides several more in other counties. Indeed, so large were his
possessions, and so great his power, that the terms of the royal grant to
him stated that he held his properties, not “de capite,” or “in chief,”
of the Sovereign, as was almost universally the case, but “tam libere ad
gladium, sicut Rex ipse tenebat Angliam ad coronam,” _i.e._, as freely by
his sword, as the King did by his crown. It is recorded of him, that he
founded and endowed several monasteries, in England, and elsewhere, “for
the good and salvation of his soul”; and it is näively added, that “if a
tithe of that be true which is related of him by the Chronicler,
Ordericus Vitalis (p. 787), he had needs enough to make some such amends
for his doings.” He, however, seems, in his latter days, to have
attained to a proper sense of his actions, since he closed his career,
after a long illness, by adopting the tonsure, as a monk of the Abbey of
St. Werberg, of Chester, in his own Barony. Few of these baronial
possessions, however, remained long in the families of those favourites
to whom they were granted by the Conqueror, solely by the right of
conquest. It had been asked long before, even by a Jezebel, “Had Zimri
peace, who slew his master?” And there were Norman Omris and Zimris. It
was a matter of natural, as well as of retributive justice, that, when
the grip, by which the strong held his own, lost its vigour, even the
strongest should make way for “a stronger than he.” And although the
proud Lupus lorded it over demesnes in Hag, Salmonby, Tetford, Brinkhill,
Langton, Greetham, and in many another parish, beside Winceby, yet at a
later period we find another powerful family, the Gaunts, in the
ascendant, and the Duke of Lancaster, John de Gandivo, was “Dominus
Manerii de Winceby” (Harl. MS., Brit. Mus., vol. iii., p. 770); and
Walter de Gaunt granted to the Abbey of Bardney, which had been
re-founded by his father, Gilbert de Gaunt, after being in ruins some 200
years, the tithes of his Fee in Winceby. (Dugdale’s “Monasticon” ed.
1682, p. 143). But not yet even was “fixity of tenure” a feature of the
times. Every dog has (only) his day; other owners followed not now
known, and Winceby is now also owned by a name unknown to fame in the
representative of the Hill family, who purchased the estate from C.
Manwaring, Esq. But the Domus Dei should be a spot undesecrated by
earthly broils, a fold unviolated by “the wolf,” and although the Church,
erected at Winceby, possibly by the proud Lupus himself, “for the good of
his soul,” has, in its original fabric, passed away, yet there still
stands on the same site, a place of worship, small indeed, but not
unworthy of its holy purpose. Dedicated to St. Margaret, the special
Saint of purity undefiled, {227} it fitly stands on an isolated knoll,
which on one side looks down on a deep gorge; with the few cottages of
the, some 60, inhabitants clustering near at hand; with the great farm
house, Winceby hall, standing out eastward, and the picturesque modern
Rectory, peacefully embowered in trees and shrubbery, one field away to
the west, the calm and comfortable retreat of the Rev. C. E. Bolam,
Rector of Lusby, the Rector of Winceby being the Rev. Brice-Smith,
resident at Hameringham.
Until recent years, the church had, in the course of time, degenerated
into a small, mean thatched edifice; but, during the late incumbency of
the Rev. William Wordsworth Talfourd, acting in the spirit of that “high
priest of nature,” whose name he bore, the fabric was reconstructed in
early English style; the nave being built at the expense of the late Mr.
Charles Hill, of Winceby House, and the chancel by the rector. It
consists of nave, chancel, porch, and bell turret. Its chief features
are as follows:—In the north wall of the nave are two pairs of narrow
pointed windows, within debased arches; the south wall has the same, with
a porch, having narrow pointed arch. The font, of stone, has a circular
bowl, relieved by four small quatrefoils, at the four quarters, a
circular shaft, and square pediment. The west window is a cinquefoil,
surrounded by eight small quatrefoils. The pulpit and seats are of light
deal. The east window of the chancel, the gift of Miss Talfourd, is of
three distinct trefoiled compartments, of coloured glass, the central one
rather larger than the other two, and surmounted by a quatrefoil. The
subjects are, in the centre, the Crucifixion; in the northern one, Christ
blessing little children; in the southern, the Last Supper. In the south
wall of the chancel is a single-light trefoil, window, with three small
quatrefoils above; its subject being, Christ and the Magdalen, or “Noli
me tangere”; a brass tablet states that this is “in memory of Frances
Talfourd, March 9, 1862.” The sedilia in the chancel are of handsome,
modern, substantial oak. The roof throughout is of pitch pine. The one
bell hangs in a turret supported by eight pilasters. The living is in
the gift of the Lord Chancellor. The register dates from 1579. Among
the entries are the following:—“1773, Thursday, June 28th, — Spenly
buried. He was servant to Thomas English, and instantly killed with
thunder and lightening in the house of his master, about 5 o’clock the
evening before.” In the two following, we do not see the object of the
financial computation, unless the party making the entry was
hypochondriac on the subject of £ s. d. “1698 Mary daughter of Tho.
Jeffery, ffarmer (not worth six hundred pounds) and Anne, his wife,
baptised, October 23rd.” “1699. A similiar entry of John Bowsley,
ffarmer, being not worth £600.”
The main interest of Winceby is as being the scene of the decisive
battle, commonly called “Winceby fight,” between the forces of the
Royalists and the Parliamentarians which took place on Wednesday, Oct.
11, 1643.
We have only space here for a brief account of that engagement, which was
important in its effect. We quote from a curious contemporary record,
written by a Parliamentarian, and who apparently took part in the events
described. {228} The Parliamentary army, then in the neighbourhood of
Boston, after suffering a reverse near Grantham, and gaining a doubtful
victory at Gainsborough, had been reinforced by Sir Thomas Fairfax; and
Cromwell was also on his way to join it, with a valuable body of horse.
To prevent this formidable combination, the Marquis of Newcastle from the
north, hurried towards Boston, and despatched Sir John Henderson, to
intercept Cromwell. Forces belonging to both sides had been encamped, on
the previous night, in Horncastle, Thimbleby, Edlington, and neighbouring
villages, where skirmishes had occurred. The main body under Manchester,
had moved from near Boston to Bolingbroke, which was held by Royalists.
On the Monday night, Major Knight, in the name of Manchester, had
summoned the Castle of Bolingbroke (to surrender); but was answered that
“his bug-bear words must not winne castles.” Whereupon Knight resolved
the next evening, to break open the Church doors, “and there to mount a
morter-piece, and fire the Castle.” But the events of the next day
prevented this. “Those of the Castle (the Royalists), killed one or two
of our men; and, as Major Knight, and the Quarter-master Generall
Vermeyden were viewing of it, made some shots at them, and one of them
hit the said Quarter-master Generall a little below the ancle, but
pierced not the skin, only bruised his leg.” Seeing that they were
determined to resist, Manchester then moved to East Kirkby; and his
forces were encamped there, at Stickney, and at different points around.
Cromwell was encamped at Winceby, in advance, with his “light horse and
dragooners,” where he passed the night. The Royalists, under Sir John
Henderson, pressed forward from Horncastle, in order, if possible, to
attack Cromwell, before the main body had come up. But Cromwell did not
object to hard blows, and though his “horse were extremly wearied with
hard duty,” he calmly and sternly awaited the event. “About twelve of
the clock . . . we began to descry the enemy coming toward us. So soon
as our men had knowledge of (this), they were very full of joy and
resolution, thinking it a great mercie that they should now fight.
Cromwell led the van.” He gave the watchword “Truth and Peace,” and then
gave out a Psalm; and his troops moved on, singing it, to charge the foe.
They sustained a hostile fire along the whole of their line, but they
rode on unshaken, at full speed. A second volley, at close quarters,
killed Cromwell’s charger; and as he rose to his feet, “he was knockit
down again by the gentleman who had charged him, who ’twas conceived, was
Sir Ingram Hopton;” and for a moment he lay as slain. But he who, as a
child, had escaped death in the arms of a monkey, was not to be so easily
extinguished; he recovered consciousness, and mounted a trooper’s horse;
his opponent, Sir Ingram Hopton, was slain in his turn; and “this first
charge was so home-given (says the Chronicler), and with so much
admirable courage and resolution by our troops, that the enemy stood not
another, but were driven back upon their own body, which was to have
seconded them, and at last put them into a plain disorder; and thus, in
less than half an hour’s fight, they were all quite routed. Our men
pursued, and did execution upon them about five or six miles; all the way
being strewed with broken arms, dead men and horses.” Two hundred horses
were afterwards found left in Bolingbroke Castle, which had been
abandoned by the Royalists in a panic. Many hundreds of the defeated
fugitives rushed frantically into “waters up to their arm-holes {230a};
they that lay slain in the highways were very many; and divers of
qualitie, for there were brave bodies stript naked. The number of horses
taken were about 2000, of prisoners about 1000, . . . of arms 1500, and
not 100 of the enemie (’twas verily believed), to be found in a body; of
94 standards 35 were taken, whereas (he adds), wee but lost very few of
our men, none of note, (and), wee hardly found above one of our officers
hurt.” With the Puritan’s faith he exclaims, “God himself did it all,
taking away the enemie’s hearts, and giving resolution and courage to our
men; to him therefor be all the honour and glory of this famous victory.”
{230b} This was a greater blow to the Royalist cause than has commonly
been estimated. Hitherto the struggle had been carried on with varied
fortune, but as yet the Royalists had had no reason to despair, and had
even achieved considerable successes. At Winceby it may be said, the
tide decidedly set in against them. The struggle was prolonged; but
Lincoln was taken by Manchester’s forces in the following May (1644). In
the same year was fought the disastrous battle of Marston Moor; and the
even more fatal fight of Naseby in 1645. After that the issue was almost
a foregone conclusion. As to the actual scene of the fight, the
Royalists, from Horncastle, would seem to have advanced slightly beyond
the village, before they encountered the enemy. The name of “Slash
Lane,” westward, still surviving, tells its own tale of their wild flight
towards the town, which they had so lately left full of high hope. The
“clap-gate” farm at Holbeck, tells of hurried movements in the dark hours
of the night. The Winceby registers record no increase of burials at the
time. But tradition avers that many were interred by the peasantry on
Scrafield hill-top. The one known burial is that of Sir Ingram Hopton,
whose body, by order of Cromwell himself, was conveyed to Horncastle,
that it might be interred in a manner worthy of one, in whom he
recognised “a brave gentleman.”