THE OLD TOWN OF ABINGDON
As a headquarters for boating, for those who want to dawdle and
explore odd corners and have no desire to rush through as many locks
as possible in a day, Abingdon makes a good centre. It is within
easy reach of the part lying below the woods at Nuneham, and in the
other direction is the Sutton Courtney backwater, which, Wargrave
notwithstanding, is not to be beaten on the Thames. Further down
again is Clifton Hampden, which attracts many people, and the river
at Abingdon itself is by no means to be despised. The bridge, called
Burford Bridge, is a real delight. It is old and irregular, with
straggling arches, some rounded, some pointed; and all, even the
highest, comparatively low down over the water, framing cool, dark
shadows within the embrace of the mighty piers. The bridge cannot be
seen in the glance of an eye. It is very long, and rests partly on an
island. Standing on this, the Nag's Head Inn projects from one side
of the bridge, and from it stretches out a small garden with several
orchard trees. The red tiles and creamy tint of the hotel walls show
well in contrast with the grey stone of the bridge, and when the hotel
is seen from the river above the bridge, with the tall spire of St.
Helen's Church rising behind it, it is worth noticing.
[Illustration: ABINGDON]
There are bits of old wall lining the bank on the town side, and ivy
grows freely over them. Many of the houses stand back from the water;
a part of the ruined abbey and the long range of the abbot's residence
can be seen between masses of blossom. The great exterior chimney
of the abbey buildings should particularly be noticed. The blossom
at Abingdon is a great feature, and one not to be found everywhere.
Horse-chestnuts and holm oaks dip their boughs in the water, and
from the branches arises a perfect chorus of birds. Abingdon has its
chimneys, of course, as well as hideous buildings suited to modern
requirements of business, but in the general view these things are lost
sight of.
Burford is a corruption of Borough-ford, and before the building of the
bridge in the fifteenth century, the ferry at Culham was the main means
of communication with the other side of the river.
The range of Nuneham, below which runs the backwater called the Old
River, can be seen to the south-east. If this ever was the main stream
it must have been very long ago, for the memory of it is not recorded
in any document now extant. The Old River is crossed by another bridge,
and the two are linked by a straight road, made by Geoffrey Barbour
at the same time as the building of the bridges. There is a picture of
Barbour in the almshouses, and this shows the bridge being built in the
background; while an illuminated copy of verses tells us:
King Herry the Fyft, in his fourthe yere,
He hath i-founde for his folke a brige in Berkschire,
For cartis with cariage may go and come clere,
That many wynters afore were mareed in the myre.
Culham hithe [_wharf or landing_] hath caused many a curse,
I-blessed be our helpers we have a better waye,
Without any peny for cart and for horse.
Below Burford Bridge, the great bur-reeds grow near the islands.
There is one delightful old house, formerly a malt house, with all
sorts of odd angles and corners. It encloses a small terraced court,
from which steps lead down to the water. It stands on the site of St.
Helen's nunnery, founded about 690. Further on are some of the newer
almshouses--a blot on the scene; and then a glimpse may be had of the
wooden cloister of the old almshouses, which, in their way, are as
pretty as those at Bray.
Christ's Hospital, as the almshouses are called, was founded in the
reign of Edward VI. out of lands belonging to a dissolved Guild of
the Holy Cross. The central hall dates, however, from 1400. It has a
stone mullioned window and panelled walls; in the ceiling is a dome or
cupola. Once a week eighty loaves of bread are here distributed among
the poor people of the town, and when the loaves, with their crisp,
flaky, yellow crust, stand in piles on the polished oak table, and the
poor old people gather for their share, there is an old-world touch
in the picture such as one does not often see nowadays. The cloister
or arcade of dark wood outside is decorated with texts and proverbs
on its inner wall. The newer almshouses, built in 1797, lack all the
homeliness and interest of the older ones. The church of St. Helen's,
which has a very tall spire, is close to the almshouses and the river,
and is well worthy of its position. It has been much restored, but is
mainly of sixteenth century work.
[Illustration: THE MILL AT ABINGDON]
Of course there was an abbey at Abingdon, though whether the name
of the town arose from that fact or from a proper name Aben or Æbba
is doubtful. The earliest name of the town was the unpronounceable
one of Seovechesham, and it was then a royal residence. The abbey
was founded by Cissa about 675. It was destroyed by the Danes and
reconstructed long before most places on the river had begun to have
any history at all. The abbey rose to great importance and wealth. It
held manors innumerable, and its abbot was a person to reckon with.
Even at the date of Domesday Book the abbey held no less than thirty
manors. But its power did not save it, and it suffered the common fate
at the Dissolution. A gateway of about the fourteenth century and some
ruins, which show where the dwellings of the monks stood, are all that
remain, beside the guest-chamber--a large, barn-like building--and
the almoner's residence. The latter has a magnificent fireplace and
chimney. The ceiling of the room below is groined, and looks like
that of a crypt, but this is said to have been the kitchen. The chief
feature of interest is the huge chimney, which is like a room, and
has little windows on each side; its size is best appreciated from the
exterior view. The church has quite disappeared, for the little ancient
church near the gateway was not the abbey church, but is supposed to
have been at first a chapel of ease. In this there is some Norman work,
including the west doorway, and it is probably of quite as ancient
lineage as anything now remaining of the abbey.
Henry I. was sent by his father, as a lad of twelve, to be educated
at Abingdon Abbey, and the learning by which he gained the name of
Beauclerc shows that there must have been some able men here. The town
hall in the market place at Abingdon is really a fine bit of work. It
has been attributed to Inigo Jones, and stands over an open arcade,
according to the style of town halls of the seventeenth century. The
lock is a good way above Abingdon, and from it the millstream, as usual
a pleasant backwater, flows right back to the town, enclosing a large
island.
[Illustration: SUTTON COURTNEY BACKWATER]
The lock at Culham is one of the least interesting on the river, and of
the hundreds who pass through it only a few know that they are close
to the very prettiest backwater on the Thames, namely Sutton Pool.
There is one backwater at Sutton Courtney which can be reached from
above Culham Lock. This leads to the mill, now disused, and runs along
the top of the numerous weirs that pour into Sutton Pool itself. It
is pretty also, and it is pleasant to see the meadows where the cows
stand knee-deep in flowering plants, and the little square tower of
the church peeping through the trees. This backwater is the best for
landing to go to the village. Along the top of the weirs runs a path--a
public right-of-way--which leads across the fields to Culham Lock, and
anyone may land here and look down upon the pool; but to get right into
it the lock must be passed, and some way further, after going under
the bridge, we can turn the corner of a large island and retrace our
way upstream until we come into the great pool, with its miniature
bays and tumbling water. The weirs are high, and the streams come down
with force, making a restless heave and swell when the river is full.
The little tongues of land that divide one bay from another are shaded
by willows, and the lush green grass grows here and there around tiny
beaches of white sand. In spring, masses of hawthorn, "all frosted"
with flowers, bend down from above, and the wild hyacinths break up
between the blades of grass. Tall reeds form tiny islets, and perhaps a
little moorhen flaps out. It is in secluded places like this that the
dainty nest of the reed-warbler may be seen, swinging so lightly upon
its supports that it is extraordinary to think that so large a bird as
the cuckoo should dare to deposit its egg there. Yet reed-warblers and
sedge-warblers are both among the cuckoo's victims. Unfortunately, in
this little paradise landing is everywhere strictly forbidden, but no
one can forbid enjoyment of the beauties which appeal to sight.
[Illustration: CLIFTON HAMPDEN FROM THE BRIDGE]
The village of Sutton Courtney is certainly worth visiting. The village
green, with its tall chestnuts, limes, and elms, is the very picture of
what a green should be. The church is particularly interesting, for it
is that rarity an unrestored building, with the old red-tiled floor and
the rudeness of the original--so often smoothed away behind stencilling
and paint--still left untouched. There is a shelf of chained books,
a fine carved screen, and an altar-tomb of some interest. The manor
house, which is not far off, is in a medley of styles, ranging from
Norman to Jacobean. Malefactors are said to have been hanged from the
stout oak beam which is still in good preservation. One wing is of
perfect Jacobean work, with an overhanging storey decorated with carved
pendants. A fine old building, half-way up the village, is called the
Hall of Justice; this, however, may have a meaning less obvious than
supposed at first sight, as the family of Justice held the manor for
some generations.
In it there is a fine old Norman doorway. The owner has furnished the
interior with tapestry hangings, etc., somewhat in accordance with what
it may have looked like originally when in use. It certainly gives one
an idea of the old Saxon or Norman style of dwelling before even the
upper chamber or _solar_ came into fashion.
The river at Clifton Hampden is not a couple of miles from the river
at Nuneham Courtney, so great is the loop by Abingdon. It may be noted
that the name Courtney, though spelt differently, is derived from the
ownership of the Courtenays, Earls of Exeter, in both the instances
above. Clifton Hampden is a great favourite with artists, for the
church, with its little, pointed spire, stands on a cliff which has
in parts broken away, showing the rich yellow ochre of the soil. This
makes up well in a "composition." The river sweeps round beneath it
in a sort of little bay, and when white ducks dabble in the water and
blue-pinafored children play beneath the yellow-ochre cliff, there is
much to be said for it. The houses, too, are not without points. They
are mostly thatched, and have their share of plants and creepers. The
bridge is of red brick, and, with a little toning by weather, will
make a capital accessory. But to my mind Clifton Hampden lacks that
indefinable quality of charm found in such abundance elsewhere.
[Illustration: CLIFTON HAMPDEN]
[Illustration]