ALONG THE HUMBER
Away with me in post to Ravenspurgh;
But if you faint, as fearing to do so,
Stay and be secret, and myself will go.’
_Richard II._, Act II., Scene 1.
The atrophied corner of Yorkshire that embraces the lowest reaches of
the Humber is terminated by a mere raised causeway leading to the wider
patch of ground dominated by Spurn Head lighthouse. This mere ridge of
sand and shingle is all that remains of a very considerable and populous
area possessing towns and villages as recently as the middle of the
fourteenth century.
Far back in the Middle Ages the Humber was a busy waterway for shipping,
where merchant vessels were constantly coming and going, bearing away
the wool of Holderness and bringing in foreign goods, which the Humber
towns were eager to buy. This traffic soon demonstrated the need of
some light on the point of land where the estuary joined the sea, and in
1428 Henry VI. granted a toll on all vessels entering the Humber in aid
of the first lighthouse put up about that time by a benevolent hermit.
His petition is quaintly worded, and full of interest. It commences:
‘To the wyse Comones of this present Parlement. Besekith your povre
bedeman, Richard Reedbarowe, Heremyte of the Chapell of our Lady
and Seint Anne atte Ravensersporne. That forasmuche that many
diverses straites and daungers been in the entryng into the river
of Humbre out of the See, where ofte tymes by mysaventure many
divers Vesselx, and Men, Godes and Marchaundises, be lost and
perished, as well by Day as be Night, for defaute of a Bekyn, that
shuld teche the poeple to hold in the right chanell; so that the
seid Richard, havyng compassion and pitee of the Cristen poeple
that ofte tymes are there perished ... to make a Toure to be uppon
day light a redy Bekyn, wheryn shall be light gevyng by nyght, to
alle the Vesselx that comyn into the seid Ryver of Humbre....’
No doubt the site of this early structure has long ago been submerged.
The same fate came upon the two lights erected on Kilnsea Common by
Justinian Angell, a London merchant, who received a patent from Charles
II. to ‘continue, renew, and maintain’ two lights at Spurn Point.
In 1766 the famous John Smeaton was called upon to put up two
lighthouses, one 90 feet and the other 50 feet high. There was no hurry
in completing the work, for the foundations of the high light were not
completed until six years later. The sea repeatedly destroyed the low
light, owing to the waves reaching it at high tide. Poulson mentions the
loss of three structures between 1776 and 1816. The fourth was taken
down after a brief life of fourteen years, the sea having laid the
foundations bare.
As late as the beginning of last century the illumination was produced
by ‘a naked coal fire, unprotected from the wind,’ and its power was
consequently most uncertain. In a great gale in 1803, the keeper was
convinced that the tower would be blown down, for the wind was so
furious that it increased the heat of the fire until the bars of the
hearth melted like lead, and finally extinguished the light. New bars
had to be put in before the fire could be rekindled. Smeaton describes
how ‘upon the 5th September 1776, the fires were kindled with _stone
coal_, which exhibited an amazing light.’
Smeaton’s high tower is now only represented by its foundations and the
circular wall surrounding them, which acts as a convenient shelter from
wind and sand for the low houses of the men who are stationed there for
the lifeboat and other purposes.
The present lighthouse is 30 feet higher than Smeaton’s, and is fitted
with the modern system of dioptric refractors, giving a light of 519,000
candle-power, which is greater than any other on the east coast of
England. The need for a second structure has been obviated by placing
the low lights half-way down the existing tower. Every twenty seconds
the upper light flashes for one and a half seconds, being seen in clear
weather at a distance of seventeen nautical miles.
That such a narrow spit of shifting sand should exist so tenaciously on
a part of the coast suffering so much from the inroads of the sea
appears most remarkable until we realize that its existence is probably
the result of the erosion of the shore to the north, combined with the
opposed action of river and ocean. There seems little doubt that the
material composing the spit of land is the waste of the Holderness
shore, and possibly contains some of the material of the land on which
the romantic town of Ravenserodd stood. Although we must regret the loss
of this historic town, all its attractiveness might have been dissipated
by this time, even if it had survived, by the processes that turned the
picturesque town of Hull into an ugly, if exceedingly prosperous,
seaport.
In the Middle Ages great fortunes were made on the Humber without the
accompaniment of dirt and unsightly surroundings. Sir William de la Pole
was a merchant of remarkable enterprise, and the most notable of those
who traded at Ravenserodd. It was probably owing to his great wealth
that his son was made a knight-banneret, and his grandson became Earl of
Suffolk. Another of the De la Poles was the first Mayor of Hull, and
seems to have been no less opulent than his brother, who lent large sums
of money to Edward III., and was in consequence appointed Chief Baron of
the Exchequer and also presented with the Lordship of Holderness.
The story of Ravenser, and the later town of Ravenserodd, is told in a
number of early records, and from them we can see clearly what happened
in this corner of Yorkshire. Owing to a natural confusion from the many
different spellings of the two places, the fate of the prosperous port
of Ravenserodd has been lost in a haze of misconception. And this might
have continued if Mr. J. R. Boyle had not gone exhaustively into the
matter, bringing together all the references to the Ravensers which
have been discovered.
There seems little doubt that the first place called Ravenser was a
Danish settlement just within the Spurn Point, the name being a compound
of the raven of the Danish standard, and _eyr_ or _ore_, meaning a
narrow strip of land between two waters. In an early Icelandic saga the
sailing of the defeated remnant of Harold Hardrada’s army from Ravenser,
after the defeat of the Norwegians at Stamford Bridge, is mentioned in
the lines:
‘The King the swift ships with the flood
Set out, with the autumn approaching,
And sailed from the port, called
Hrafnseyrr (the raven tongue of land).’
From this event of 1066 Ravenser must have remained a hamlet of small
consequence, for it is not heard of again for nearly two centuries, and
then only in connexion with the new Ravenser which had grown on a spit
of land gradually thrown up by the tide within the spoon-shaped ridge of
Spurn Head. On this new ground a vessel was wrecked some time in the
early part of the thirteenth century, and a certain man--the earliest
recorded Peggotty--converted it into a house, and even made it a
tavern, where he sold food and drink to mariners. Then three or four
houses were built near the adapted hull, and following this a small port
was created, its development being fostered by William de Fortibus, Earl
of Albemarl, the lord of the manor, with such success that, by the year
1274, the place had grown to be of some importance, and a serious trade
rival to Grimsby on the Lincolnshire coast. To distinguish the two
Ravensers the new place, which was almost on an island, being only
connected with the mainland by a bank composed of large yellow boulders
and sand, was called Ravenser Odd, and in the Chronicles of Meaux Abbey
and other records the name is generally written Ravenserodd. The
original place was about a mile away, and no longer on the shore, and it
is distinguished from the prosperous port as Ald Ravenser. Owing,
however, to its insignificance in comparison to Ravenserodd, the busy
port, it is often merely referred to as Ravenser, spelt with many
variations.
The extraordinarily rapid rise of Ravenserodd seems to have been due to
a remarkable keenness for business on the part of its citizens,
amounting, in the opinion of the Grimsby traders, to sharp practice.
For, being just within Spurn Head, the men of Ravenserodd would go out
to incoming vessels bound for Grimsby, and induce them to sell their
cargoes in Ravenserodd by all sorts of specious arguments, misquoting
the prices paid in the rival town. If their arguments failed, they would
force the ships to enter their harbour and trade with them, whether they
liked it or not. All this came out in the hearing of an action brought
by the town of Grimsby against Ravenserodd. Although the plaintiffs seem
to have made a very good case, the decision of the Court was given in
favour of the defendants, as it had not been shown that any of their
proceedings had broken the King’s peace.
Between 1310 and 1340 there are many references to the ships and armed
men Ravenserodd was required to furnish for the wars in Scotland,
Flanders, and elsewhere. The period of the town’s greatest prosperity
was no doubt from a few years before 1298, the year when a royal charter
was granted making it a free borough, and about 1340.
It is extremely interesting that one of the earliest names connected
with the new port is Peter-atte-see. In the Middle Ages, just such a
distinction is what we would expect to be added to the baptismal name of
a man who had taken up his abode on a lonely patch of land produced by
the action of the sea. It is therefore more than probable that this
Peter was either the founder or the son of the founder of Ravenserodd.
Later generations altered the name to De la Mare, and it was Martin de
la Mare who at first opposed, but afterwards assisted, Edward IV. when
he landed at Ravenser Spurn, 1471.
But long before that historic event, earlier even than Henry IV.’s
landing on the same spot in 1399, the sea had reclaimed its own. In a
short time not only Ravenserodd, but also Ald Ravenser and Sunthorp had
been washed away.
The story of this disaster, which appears to have happened between 1340
and 1350, is told by the monkish compiler of the Chronicles of Meaux.
Translated from the original Latin the account is headed:
‘_Concerning the consumption of the town of Ravensere Odd and
concerning the effort towards the diminution of the tax of the
church of Esyngton._
‘But in those days, the whole town of Ravensere Odd, ... was
totally annihilated by the floods of the Humber and the inundations
of the great sea; ... and when that town of Ravensere Odd, in which
we had half an acre of land built upon, and also the chapel of that
town, pertaining to the said church of Esyngton, were exposed to
demolition during the few preceding years, those floods and
inundations of the sea, within a year before the destruction of
that town, increasing in their accustomed way without limit
fifteen fold, announcing the swallowing up of the said town, and
sometimes exceeding beyond measure the height of the town, and
surrounding it like a wall on every side, threatened the final
destruction of that town. And so, with this terrible vision of
waters seen on every side, the enclosed persons, with the reliques,
crosses, and other ecclesiastical ornaments, which remained
secretly in their possession and accompanied by the viaticum of the
body of Christ in the hands of the priest, flocking together,
mournfully imploring grace, warded off at that time their
destruction. And afterwards, daily removing thence with their
possession, they left that town totally without defence, to be
shortly swallowed up, which, with a short intervening period of
time by those merciless tempestuous floods, was irreparably
destroyed.’
The traders and inhabitants generally moved to Kingston-upon-Hull and
other towns, as the sea forced them to seek safer quarters.
When Henry of Lancaster landed with his retinue in 1399 within Spurn
Head, the whole scene was one of complete desolation, and the only
incident recorded is his meeting with a hermit named Matthew Danthorp,
who was at the time building a chapel. Perhaps it was thought to have
been a happy augury that the first person met should have been a holy
man, for on the day following his coronation, Henry IV. granted a royal
licence for the hermit to complete the chapel, improperly begun without
any official sanction, and also right over all ‘the wreck of the sea
and waifs’ for two leagues round the chapel.
Whether the chapel-of-ease at Ravenserodd, built some time between 1235
and 1272, and, therefore, in the Early English period, bore any
comparison to those of the neighbouring villages of Patrington and Hedon
we do not know, but if the prosperity of the port had led to the
building of such a church, its loss is melancholy indeed. The beautiful
spire of Patrington church guides us easily along a winding lane from
Easington until the whole building shows over the surrounding meadows as
it appears in the illustration given here. A farm with a well-filled
stack-yard lies on the left, and closely trimmed hedges border the
roads, while the village, being on the other side of the church and some
big trees, is out of sight. We seem to have stumbled upon a cathedral
standing all alone in this diminishing land, scarcely more than two
miles from the Humber and less than four from the sea. No one quarrels
with the title ‘The Queen of Holderness,’ nor with the far greater claim
that Patrington is the most beautiful village church in England. With
the exception of the east window, which is Perpendicular, nearly the
whole structure was built in the Decorated period; and in its perfect
proportion, its wealth of detail and marvellous dignity, it is a joy to
the eye within and without. The plan is cruciform, and there are aisles
to the transepts as well as the nave, giving a wealth of pillars to the
interior. Above the tower rises a tall stone spire, enriched, at a third
of its height, with what might be compared to an earl’s coronet, the
spikes being represented by crocketed pinnacles--the terminals of the
supporting pillars. The four corner pinnacles of the tower, carrying
flying buttresses to the spire, are very unusual in form, being widened
at their bases to allow the making of an archway through each. This
gives them the appearance of grotesque little men, with bent legs,
resting one arm on the spire, and might have caused a serious loss of
beauty if the whole work had been less perfect in its conception. A
curious outside staircase, reached from within, goes over the south
window of the transept, giving it a deeply recessed appearance; and the
bold buttresses, terminated with crocketed pinnacles, throw broad
shadows during the afternoon, which add immensely to the charm of the
building. The gargoyles are a wonderful study in eccentricity, each one
endeavouring to be more unconventional than his neighbour, and to
Poulson they appeared to be in ‘ill accord with the fastidious delicacy
of the present age.’ The interior of the church is seen at its loveliest
on those afternoons when that rich yellow light Mr. Dean Howells so
aptly compares with the colour of the daffodil is flooding the nave and
aisles, and glowing on the clustered columns. A good point of view is
from the north porch, where you look into the south transept through
four arcades of pillars, or from the south transept, looking towards the
mellow light at the west end.
In the eastern aisles of each arm of the transept there were three
chantry chapels, whose piscinæ remain. The central chapel in the south
transept is a most interesting and beautiful object, having a recess for
the altar, with three richly ornamented niches above. In the groined
roof above, the central boss is formed into a hollow pendant of
considerable interest. On the three sides are carvings representing the
Annunciation, St. Catherine of Alexandria, and St. John the Baptist, and
on the under side is a Tudor rose. Sir Henry Dryden, in the
_Archæological Journal_, states that this pendant was used for a lamp to
light the altar below, but he points out, at the same time, that the
sacrist would have required a ladder to reach it. An alternative
suggestion made by others is that this niche contained a relic where it
would have been safe even if visible. I cannot help wondering if the
staircase outside the south transept, already mentioned, which makes the
roof of this chapel very accessible, has any connexion with this pendant
niche. Also in this transept there is a very curious staircase,
zigzagging over the tower arch and giving access to the belfry and the
space above the vaulting of the aisles, and, therefore, to the top of
the chantry; in the centre there is a grotesque dragon-headed corbel,
and others at each end of the steps. In the north transept a hoary
ladder is bracketed out above the tower arch on enormous corbels.
The fact that the east window belongs to a slightly later period than
the rest of the church does not in any way minimize its beauty--it
appears to me rather to be a crowning glory; and its glass has a
medieval richness produced only with soft colours restful and satisfying
to the eye. The screen is considered to be coeval with the church, and
has been restored with all the care it deserves. Yet another interest is
the remarkable Easter Sepulchre to the north of the sanctuary, which has
only suffered the loss of the sculpture in the upper panel. The middle
portion shows our Lord coming
[Illustration: PATRINGTON CHURCH
Known as the ‘Queen of Holderness,’ is one of the most beautiful
village churches in England. It was almost entirely built in the
Decorated period, and has aisles to its transepts and much
beautiful carving.
]
from the tomb, with an angel on either side swinging a censer, and below
the recess are slumbering soldiers.
Patrington village is of fair size, with a wide street; and although
lacking any individual houses calling for comment, it is a pleasant
place, with the prevailing warm reds of roofs and walls to be found in
all the Holderness towns.
On our way to Hedon, where the ‘King of Holderness’ awaits us, we pass
Winestead Church, where Andrew Marvell was baptized in 1621, and where
we may see the memorials of a fine old family--the Hildyards of
Winestead, who came there in the reign of Henry VI. The well-wooded
acres surrounding the old Hall of the Hildyards, although the male line
died out nearly a century ago, seem still to be haunted with the memory
of that redoubtable soldier, Sir Robert Hildyard, also known to history
as ‘Robin of Redesdale,’ who, with Sir John Conyers, led the successful
Lancastrian rising which resulted in the defeat and capture of the Earl
of Pembroke at Edgcote.
Further on we come to Ottringham, where there is a restored stone
reading-desk in the church, as at Pocklington. The tower has a spire,
and so also has the church at Keyingham adjoining, making, with
Patrington, three conspicuous landmarks along the Humber.
The stately tower of Hedon’s church is conspicuous from far away; and
when we reach the village we are much impressed by its solemn beauty,
and by the atmosphere of vanished greatness clinging to the place that
was decayed even in Leland’s days, when Henry VIII. still reigned.
The father of English topography found the town insulated by creeks
where ships lay--
‘but now men cum to it by 3 Bridges, where it is evident to se that
sum Places wher the Shippes lay be over growen with Flagges and
Reades; and the Haven is very sorely decayid. There were 3 Paroche
Chirchis in Tyme of Mynde: but now there is but one of _S.
Augustine_: but that is very fair.’
Also we are told that not far from the church garth there were remains
of a castle for the defence of the place, and that
‘The Town hath yet greate Privileges with a Mair and Bailives: but
wher it had yn _Edwarde_ the 3 Dayes many good Shippes and riche
Marchaunts, now there be but a few Botes and no Marchauntes of any
Estimation.... Treuth is that when _Hulle_ began to flourish,
_Heddon_ decaied.’
No doubt the silting up of the harbour and creeks brought down Hedon
from her high place, so that the retreat of the sea in this place was
scarcely less disastrous to the town’s prosperity than its advance had
been at Ravenserodd; and possibly the waters of the Humber, glutted with
their rapacity close to Spurn Head, deposited much of the disintegrated
town in the waterway of the other.
The exterior of the church is much discoloured and weathered, suggesting
that in places an excess of moisture reaches the walls. Inside, too,
there is an atmosphere of neglect, perhaps caused by the need of funds
for the proper maintenance of the beautiful building. No great cost
would be entailed, however, in keeping the churchyard tidy; and the old
shoes, the empty pots, and other litter near the east end, might be
removed at a trifling expense. Great Driffield keeps its churchyard as a
well-ordered garden, Hedon with less care than is devoted to its green.
Surely the ‘Mair and Bailives,’ armed with the mace they believe to be
the most ancient in the country, would do well to go in procession to
the churchyard, and, having made a careful examination of the litter and
counted the tin cans and old shoes, make an urgent report to the
incumbent.
The nave of the church is Decorated, and has beautiful windows of that
period. The transept is Early English, and so also is the chancel, with
a fine Perpendicular east window filled with glass of the same subtle
colours we saw at Patrington.
In Preston Church, a mile to the north, are the richly carved fragments
of an alabaster Easter sepulchre, or possibly a reredos, found during
the restoration in 1880.
In approaching nearer to Hull, we soon find ourselves in the outer zone
of its penumbra of smoke, with fields on each side of the road waiting
for works and tall shafts, which will spread the unpleasant gloom of the
city still further into the smiling country. The sun becomes
copper-coloured, and the pure, transparent light natural to Holderness
loses its vigour. Tall and slender chimneys emitting lazy coils of
blackness stand in pairs or in groups, with others beyond, indistinct
behind a veil of steam and smoke, and at their feet grovels a confusion
of buildings sending forth jets and mushrooms of steam at a thousand
points. Hemmed in by this industrial belt and compact masses of cellular
brickwork, where labour skilled and unskilled sleeps and rears its
offspring, is the nucleus of the Royal borough of Kingston-upon-Hull,
founded by Edward I. at the close of the thirteenth century.
It would scarcely have been possible that any survivals of the
Edwardian port could have been retained in the astonishing commercial
development the city has witnessed, particularly in the last century;
and Hull, despite its interesting history, lays no claim to even the
smallest suggestion of picturesqueness. The renaissance of English
architecture is beginning to make itself felt in the chief streets,
where some good buildings are taking the places of ugly fronts; and
there are one or two more ambitious schemes of improvement bringing
dignity into the city; but that, with the exception of two churches, is
practically all.
When we see the old prints of the city surrounded by its wall defended
with towers, and realize the numbers of curious buildings that filled
the winding streets--the windmills, the churches and monasteries--we
understand that the old Hull has gone almost as completely as
Ravenserodd. It was in Hull that Michael, a son of Sir William de la
Pole of Ravenserodd, its first Mayor, founded a monastery for thirteen
Carthusian monks, and also built himself, in 1379, a stately house in
Lowgate opposite St. Mary’s Church. Nothing remains of this great brick
mansion, which was described as a palace, and lodged Henry VIII. during
his visit in 1540. Even St. Mary’s Church has been so largely rebuilt
and restored that its interest is much diminished.
The great Perpendicular Church of Holy Trinity in the market-place is,
therefore, the one real link between the modern city and the little town
founded in the thirteenth century. It is a cruciform building and has a
fine central tower, and is remarkable in having transepts and chancel
built externally of brick as long ago as the Decorated Period. The De la
Pole mansion, of similar date, was also constructed with brick--no doubt
from the brickyard outside the North Gate owned by the founder of the
family fortunes. The pillars and capitals of the arcades of both the
nave and chancel are thin and unsatisfying to the eye, and the interior
as a whole, although spacious, does not convey any pleasing sensations.
The slenderness of the columns was necessary, it appears, owing to the
soft and insecure ground, which necessitated a pile foundation and as
light a weight above as could be devised.
William Wilberforce, the liberator of slaves, was born in 1759 in a
large house still standing in High Street, and a tall Doric column
surmounted by a statue perpetuates his memory, in the busiest corner of
the city. The old red-brick Grammar School bears the date 1583, and is
a pleasant relief from the dun-coloured monotony of the greater part of
the city. Of the walls, besieged in a half-hearted fashion during the
‘Pilgrimage of Grace’ trouble, and in a most determined fashion during
the Civil War, nothing remains, and, our interest slackening, we
suddenly realize that we have been long enough in this shipping city. It
is not altogether easy to leave Hull behind, for Hessle, four miles
further on, is in the suburban area. Sutton-in-Holderness, to the north,
is a pretty hamlet threatened by the skirmishers of the city. In the
church is a fine tomb of one of the Lords of Sutton, who owned the place
almost from Domesday times until the days when Kingston-upon-Hull began
to appear. A most instructive volume devoted to this one village has
been written by the late Mr. Thomas Blashill.
In going westward we come, at the village of North Cave, to the southern
horn of the crescent of the Wolds. All the way to Howden they show as a
level-topped ridge to the north, and the lofty tower of the church
stands out boldly for many miles before we reach the town. At first
Howden seems a dull and somewhat disappointing town, compared with what
we would have expected to have seen surrounding a collegiate church on
such imposing lines. There are too many modern houses of that
unsatisfactory whity-red brick so extensively used in these parts of
Yorkshire. If the houses were colour-washed, this would be unimportant,
but only in rare instances is this done, and these are almost invariably
the oldest buildings. The cobbled streets at the east end of the church
possess a few antique houses coloured with warm ochre, and it is over
and between these that we have the first close view of the ruined
chancel. The east window has lost most of its tracery, and has the
appearance of a great archway; its date, together with the whole of the
chancel, is late Decorated, but the exquisite little chapter-house is
later still, and may be better described as early Perpendicular. It is
octagonal in plan, and has in each side a window with an ogee arch
above. The stones employed are remarkably large. The richly moulded
arcading inside, consisting of ogee arches, has been exposed to the
weather for so long, owing to the loss of the vaulting above, that the
lovely detail is fast disappearing. To make a temporary roof of light
rafters and boarding, covered with old or smoked tiles, and to fill the
windows with plain glass, would be inexpensive, and would not be
unsightly. With this first aid carried out, there would be time to
collect a sufficient sum for properly restoring this architectural gem.
The west end of the nave is a fine example of Decorated work, and shows
in its turrets how much more beautiful the transepts of Beverley might
have been if it had been built at a slightly later period. The tower is
in two stages, and although it is all Perpendicular, the upper portion
is much later than the lower. There are survivals of Early English work
in the south transept, where the tombs of several members of the ancient
families of Saltmarsh and Metham are of absorbing interest.
About four miles from Howden, near the banks of the Derwent, stand the
ruins of Wressle Castle. In every direction the country is spread out
green and flat, and, except for the towers and spires of the churches,
it is practically featureless. To the north the horizon is brought
closer by the rounded outlines of the wolds; everywhere else you seem to
be looking into infinity, as in the Fen Country.
The castle that stands in the midst of this belt of level country is the
only one in the East Riding, and although now a mere fragment of the
former building, it still retains a melancholy dignity. Since a fire in
1796 the place has been left an empty shell, the two great towers and
the walls that join them being left without floors or roofs.
Wressle was one of the two castles in Yorkshire belonging to the Percys,
and at the time of the Civil War still retained its feudal grandeur
unimpaired. Its strength was, however, considered by the Parliament to
be a danger to the peace, despite the fact that the Earl of
Northumberland, its owner, was not on the Royalist side, and an order
was issued in 1648 commanding that it should be destroyed. Pontefract
Castle had been suddenly seized for the King in June during that year,
and had held out so persistently that any fortified building, even if
owned by a supporter, was looked upon as a possible source of danger to
the Parliamentary Government. An order was therefore sent to Lord
Northumberland’s officers at Wressle commanding them to pull down all
but the south side of the castle. That this was done with great
thoroughness, despite the most strenuous efforts made by the Earl to
save his ancient seat, may be seen to-day in the fact that, of the four
sides of the square, three have totally disappeared, except for slight
indications in the uneven grass.
[Illustration: WRESSLE CASTLE
WAS one of the two great castles of the Percies in Yorkshire; the
other was at Leconfield, but only its site remains. Wressle
probably dates from about 1380-90. Three sides of the quadrangular
space enclosed by the buildings were destroyed by order of
Parliament in 1650, and what remains is the fourth or southern
side. Howden Church and the Wolds appear on the horizon.
]
A letter dated October 30, 1648, addressed to _Hugh Potter, Esquire_, at
Northumberland House, gives a most clear account of the miserable work
of destruction:
‘SIR,
‘Yours I received; and since I writ my last, on the same daye, the
Commissioners sett on workmen to pull downe and deface that stately
structure. They fell upon the Constables Tower, and hath with much
violence pursued the work on thursday and ffriday. Their Agents
wold showe noe care in preserveinge any of the materialls, but
pitched of the Stones from the Battlements to the ground; and the
Chymneys that stood upon the Lead downe to the Leades, which made
breaches through the roof where they fell. All the Battelements to
the roofe, on the ffront of the Castle (excepting the High Tower
over the Gate) are bett downe. What materialls could be sav’d Mr.
Plaxton did sett on some Tenants to take awaye, and laye in the
barne. Belieeve it, Sir, his Lordship hath sustained very deepe
losses in his house; I conceive 2000_l._ will not repaire the
ruynes there: But I hope their work is at an end; for this day the
Major and Mr. Plaxton are sett forward to attend Major Generall
Lambert with the Lord Generall’s order to him: And in the meane
tyme the soldiers are to hold them of, from doinge further violence
to the Castle which I wish had bin done by order 2 dayes sooner.’
The saddest part of the story concerns the portion of the buildings
spared by the Cromwellians. This, we are told, remained until a century
ago nearly in the same state as in the year 1512, when Henry Percy, the
fifth Earl, commenced the compilation of his wonderful Household Book.
The Great Chamber, or Dining Room, the Drawing Chamber, the Chapel, and
other apartments, still retained their richly-carved ceilings, and the
sides of the rooms were ornamented with a ‘great profusion of ancient
sculpture, finely executed in wood, exhibiting the bearings, crests,
badges, and devises, of the Percy family, in a great variety of forms,
set off with all the advantages of painting, gilding, and imagery.’
The chapel was in the tower shown in the picture reproduced here, and
was fitted up ‘in a ruder style’ and at a more early period than the
other apartments. Bishop Percy describes the sculptured badges as being
still in a fair state of preservation, and mentions the motto on the
ceiling: _Esperance en Dieu ma Comforte_. At that time--namely, just
before the fire which has been mentioned--this chapel was used as the
parish church, that building being then a mere ruin with only the west
end standing at the distance of a bow-shot from the castle. Since then
it has been rebuilt with red brick, and is uninteresting, save for an
early tomb slab by the south door. The full measure of the destruction
caused first by the Parliamentary agents, and a century and a half
later by the fire, can be gauged by reading Leland’s account of the
castle written in the reign of Henry VIII. He describes it as being
constructed with very fair and great squared stones inside and out, and
the tradition at the time was that much of it was brought from France.
No subsequent writer has ventured to state whether the stone comes from
Caen or any other French quarries, although its power of resisting the
action of weather is so remarkable that, despite the fire and the
century of total neglect which has since passed, it has a
freshness--almost a newness--of aspect hardly to be expected in a castle
erected probably between 1380 and 1390.
There was a moat on three sides, a square tower at each corner, and a
fifth containing the gateway presumably on the eastward face. In one of
the corner towers was the buttery, pantry, ‘pastery,’ larder, and
kitchen; in the south-easterly one was the chapel; and in the
two-storied building and the other tower of the south side were the
chief apartments, where my lord Percy dined, entertained, and ordered
his great household with a vast care and minuteness of detail. We would
probably have never known how elaborate were the arrangements for the
conduct and duties of every one, from my lord’s eldest son down to his
lowest servant, had not the Household Book of the fifth Earl of
Northumberland been, by great good fortune, preserved intact. By reading
this extraordinary compilation it is possible to build up a complete
picture of the daily life at Wressle Castle in the year 1512 and later;
it is more than possible, for the pictures are ancillary to reading. The
prices to be paid for food and many other necessities are given, also
the sums given out by the treasurer to each department, and what was to
be done with what remained unspent during the year.
From this account we know that the bare stone walls of the apartments
were hung with tapestries, and that these, together with the beds and
bedding, all the kitchen pots and pans, cloths, and odds and ends, the
altar hangings, surplices, and apparatus of the chapel--in fact, every
one’s bed, tools, and clothing--were removed in seventeen carts each
time my lord went from one of his castles to another. The following is
one of the items, the spelling being typical of the whole book:
‘ITEM.--Yt is Ordynyd at every Remevall that the Deyn Subdean
Prestes Gentilmen and Children of my Lordes Chapell with the Yoman
and Grome of the Vestry shall have apontid theime ii Cariadges at
every Remevall Viz. One for ther Beddes Viz. For vi Prests iii
beddes after ii to a Bedde For x Gentillmen of the Chapell v Beddes
after ii to a Bedde And for vi Children ii Beddes after iii to a
Bedde And a Bedde for the Yoman and Grom o’ th Vestry In all xi
Beddes for the furst Cariage. And the iiᵈᵉ Cariage for ther
Aparells and all outher ther Stuff and to have no mo Cariage
allowed them but onely the said ii Cariages allowid theime.’
The daily life of the great nobles was carried on at this time in a
scarcely less elaborate and sumptuous manner than that of the king’s
court, and an instance of the magnificence of the Earl of
Northumberland’s establishment can be taken from the _eleven_ resident
priests. Of these, the chief was a doctor or bachelor of divinity, who
was dean of the chapel. One of the priests was my lord’s secretary,
another his surveyor of lands, another a master of grammar, another rode
with my lord, and one was chaplain to the eldest son.
The servants were so numerous that no one had more than one duty, and
when one considers the liberal food allowed to every one in the
establishment, to obtain a post in my lord’s household must have been an
ideal for the hungry agricultural peasant, and accounts to some extent
for the ease with which a feudal lord could rely upon the devoted
services in peace or war of a hundred or more stout men.
There was ‘an arris-mender’ who was hourly in the wardrobe for working
upon ‘my Lordis Arres and Tapstry’; a groom of the chamber looked after
the two sons, ‘brushing and dressing of their stuf’; my lord’s armourer
was ‘hourely in th’ Armory for dressing of his harness’; a ‘Groim
Sumpterman’ attended daily at the stable to dress the sumpter-horses and
‘my Laidis Palfraies,’ and these are, of course, merely instances taken
from the different types of office. The clerk of my lord’s ‘foren
Expensis,’ who attended to the ‘grossing up’ of the books relating to
foreign expenses, was concerned with disbursements outside the
household, and not with purchases or expenses abroad, ‘alien’ being the
word then used for what is now termed ‘foreign.’
We have seen the astonishingly tall spire of Hemingbrough Church from
the battlements of Wressle Castle, and when we have given a last look at
the grey walls and the windows, filled with their enormously heavy
tracery, we betake ourselves along a pleasant lane that brings us at
length to the river. Here we find a curious wooden swing-bridge, guarded
by a very high white gate, with a large motor-car in difficulties with a
herd of cows at the very narrow opening. From this point the spire
gives a picturesque finish to the perspective of road straight ahead,
and grows more imposing as we approach the village. The cottages are
scattered, and the atmosphere of the place is that of the deepest
slumber. A bend of the Ouse is within half a mile, and the low-lying
fields intervening were marshes before they were drained. The low wall
surrounding the raised ground of the churchyard has, no doubt, been
reached by the floods on many occasions. The spire is 120 feet in
height, or twice that of the tower, and this hugeness is perhaps out of
proportion with the rest of the building; yet I do not think for a
moment that this great spire could have been different without robbing
the church of its striking and pleasing individuality. There are
Transitional Norman arches at the east end of the nave, but most of the
work is Decorated or Perpendicular. The windows of the latter period in
the south transept are singularly happy in the wonderful amount of light
they allow to flood through their pale yellow glass.
The oak bench-ends in the nave, which are carved with many devices, and
the carefully repaired stalls in the choir, are Perpendicular, and no
doubt belong to the period when the church was a collegiate foundation
of Durham.
THE DERWENT AND THE HOWARDIAN HILLS