[Picture: Remains of Old St. Chad’s Church]
“In midst of towne fower Parish Churches are,
Full nere and close, together note that right:
For they doe seeme a true love knot to sight.”
These quaint lines of our native poet Churchyard, with the illustrative
vignette, describe the situation which the spacious cruciform church of
Old Saint Chad occupied on the southern eminence of the town.
The period of its early foundation has been already alluded to, and the
nearly total destruction of the fabric was occasioned by workmen having
very injudiciously commenced under-building (contrary to the advice of an
experienced architect,) one of the pillars that supported the large
central tower, which had shrunk considerably from graves having been
carelessly made too close to its foundations. The slight vibration
occasioned by the chimes proclaiming their matin tune at four o’clock, on
July 9th, 1788, caused the decayed pillar to give way, when the ponderous
tower rent asunder, and with the heavy peal of bells it contained,
falling on the roofs of the nave and transepts; crushed those parts of
the edifice into ruinous desolation, producing a scene of horrid
confusion more easily to be imagined than described. The masons had a
narrow but fortunate escape, and were only waiting at the adjoining house
of the sexton for the keys of the church, to pursue their misdirected
scheme of economy.
The event excited a great consternation in the town, and the exemplary
vicar, the Rev. Thomas Stedman, addressed an affectionate pastoral letter
to his parishioners on the improvement that should be made of so
remarkable an interposition of Providence, which occurred at a time when
not a single person was within the reach of any injury from it.
Before the church fell, apprehensions were entertained that some fatal
consequences might follow, from the appearances of decay in different
parts of the building; these fears, however, were comparatively slight,
and no immediate danger expected. But after the event took place it was
found that the shattered state of the edifice was such, that instead of
exciting surprise that it should fall when it did, there were just
grounds for amazement that it should have stood so long. Had the decayed
state of the building been thoroughly understood before it gave way, the
probable opinion would have been, that whenever the disaster happened, it
would be at a time when the effects of it might have been dreadful to
many;—as when the greatest weight was in the galleries, or when the tower
had been shaken by the motion of the bells. Only a month previous, 3000
persons, it is considered, were assembled in the church to witness the
interment of an officer under military honours.
The old church was a majestic edifice, erected in the reign of Henry III.
in the style when the round Norman arches were giving way to the
beautiful lancet style. In 1393 the roofs and tower, with the wooden
spire covered with lead, were destroyed by a calamitous fire, occasioned
by the negligence of a plumber while repairing the leads. The damage
being considerable, Richard II. granted to the inhabitants a remission of
their fee-farm rent, and certain other taxes, towards the re-edification.
From the fragments of Saxon sculpture discovered in portions of the walls
after the fall of the late fabric, the edifice which preceded it must
have been considerably adorned.
The dawning light of the Reformation in Shrewsbury first beamed in this
church in 1407, by William Thorpe, a priest and disciple of the doctrines
promulgated by Wickliff. This Salopian reformer, in a sermon before the
bailiffs on the third Sunday after Easter, boldly, preached against the
prevailing and favourite tenets of the Romish church; for his temerity he
was thrown into the prison of the town, by command of the local
authorities, where he remained about a month, and was afterwards removed
to Lambeth for examination before the archbishop, the bailiffs preferring
the charge of heresy and schism against him.
The conduct of Thorpe before his spiritual superior was decent and
respectful, but at the same time he remained zealous in his vindication
of scripture, and firm in support of that which he considered the
truth,—thus intrepidly answering the archbishop, “I’ll tell you at one
word, I dare not from the dread of God submit unto you, notwithstanding
the tenure and sentence that you have rehearsed to me.” He was
accordingly sent back to prison: his subsequent fate is nowhere recorded,
but it is conjectured on good grounds he was liberated after the death of
the archbishop, so that what Fox has asserted of his having died a martyr
to hard usage is probably incorrect.
The exercise of the Protestant religion in this town also began in this
church in 1573, under the direction of the Bishop of Lichfield and the
Lord President of the Marches, as special commissioners from Queen
Elizabeth.
The portion of the ruins now remaining stood south of the choir, and
formed a chantry chapel dedicated to the Virgin Mary; after the
Reformation it was called the Bishop’s Chancel, from the circumstance of
its being used at the visitations of the bishop and archdeacon. The two
wide semi-circular arches (now walled up) separated it from the transepts
and choir. On the outside north wall are three stone stalls having
pointed arches, the concaves of which are groined; these originally
adjoined the high altar, and formed the seats of the priest, deacon, and
sub-deacon, during a part of the high mass. The east and south sides
display two mullioned windows; one adjoining the newel staircase in the
south-west pier, which once led to the belfry is of an earlier design
than the rest, and was probably introduced when the building was repaired
in 1496; the others have elegant trefoiled tracery, and were erected in
1571, when the chapel was nearly rebuilt by Humphrey Onslow, Esq. to the
dilapidations of which he appears to have been liable by the lease
granted to him of the deanery when the dissolution of the college was
anticipated in 1542–3.
The interior has an oak panelled ceiling, and contains a few monumental
tablets and hatchments, most of the ancient memorials having been removed
on the fall of the church to other places.
This chapel is now used as a daily parochial school, and for reading the
burial service connected with the spacious cemetery in which it stands.
Among the monuments is one to the memory of that excellent man, the Rev.
JOB ORTON, V.D.M. who “being dead, yet speaketh,” in the forcible
discourses and truly admirable writings he has left behind. He was the
friend and biographer of Doddridge, and died 16th July, 1783, aged 66.
His remains were interred at his request in the grave of the Rev. J.
Bryan, M.A. an ejected minister from this church.
A humble gravestone near the railway leading towards Belmont records the
death of Capt. JOHN BENBOW, who was shot at the Castle, Oct. 16th, 1651,
for his attachment to the cause of King Charles the Second.
Several members of ancient families and distinguished individuals
connected with the town and county, received interment in this church.
Among these may be mentioned those of CORBET, MYTTON, BURTON, OWEN,
LYSTER, and IRELAND.
ROWLAND LEE, Bishop of Lichfield and Coventry, and Lord President of the
Marches, was buried here. He died Jan. 27th, 1542–3, at the College, the
residence of his brother, Sir George Lee, who was the last dean of the
church.