Evesham written by Edmund H. New
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Edmund H. New >> Evesham
Saint Wistan was a scion of the royal house of Mercia, heir to the
throne, and for a short period nominal monarch, but his nature was
more fitted for a religious than a political life, and he took little
part in the affairs of the state. In the year 849 he fell a victim to
the treachery of his cousin Britfard, a rival claimant to the kingdom.
Saint Odulf was not an Englishman, his whole life having been spent at
the monasteries of Utrecht and Stavoren in the Netherlands. Several
miracles are recorded as having been worked by him both before and
after death. To the monastery of Stavoren, which he had founded, his
body belonged by right, but from here it was stolen and conveyed to
England. By unknown means it came into the hands of certain vendors of
holy wares, as related above, and from them it was purchased by Abbot
Aelfward, for something like a hundred pounds, about the year 1034.
A curious story relating to the remains of this saint is told in the
monastic chronicles. Edith, the queen of Edward the Confessor, being
anxious to acquire some precious relic for purposes of her own, called
upon a number of the religious houses of England to send their
treasures to Gloucester, there to be inspected by her, and, among
others, the convent of Evesham sent the remains of Saint Odulf and
Saint Egwin. As the queen was examining the shrine of the former, she
was suddenly struck with a peculiar form of blindness, and not until
she had invoked the saint's intercession, and declared her intention
of restoring the sacred relics to the monks, did she regain her sight!
Another interesting personality gained in a very different manner the
reverence, if not the worship, of the religious devotees of the time.
This was Saint Wulsy, a hermit of repute, who, we are told, lived for
seventy-five years a life of contemplation and seclusion. From
Crowland Abbey, his earlier home, Wulsy was led blindfolded, that he
might not be contaminated by the world, to Evesham, and near the
church he built with his own hands a chapel in honour of Saint Kenelm,
saint and martyr, with a cell adjoining, in which he spent the rest of
his life.
In the reign of Edward the Confessor the church was rebuilt and
greatly enlarged by Abbot Mannie, noted as a skilful craftsman in gold
and silver; but even this must have seemed to the ambitious Norman
insignificant, and unworthy of its high purpose, for very soon after
the Conquest it was pulled down to make way for a much larger and more
dignified building.
THE ABBEY AFTER THE CONQUEST
William the Conqueror did not oust the prudent Abbot whom he found in
office at Evesham. A favourite at the court of Edward the Confessor,
Abbot Agelwy stood high also in Harold's regard, and was not only
unmolested when William took up the reins of power, but was appointed
to other offices of great trust and political importance. On his death
the abbacy was given to a Norman monk, Walter of Cerasia, and in his
time the great church of which some foundations still remain was
begun. The "wily Agelwy" had left "four chests of silver" towards this
reconstruction, but this was not enough to build even the crypt and
chancel, and we find Abbot Walter sending the chief treasures of the
monastery, namely, the shrines containing the relics of Saint Odulf
and Saint Egwin, round the country in charge of certain monks for the
collection of more funds.
According to the monkish historian Saint Odulf refused to allow
himself to be used for this purpose, and after one experiment the
attempt was given up. The story goes that the shrine was carried to
Winchcomb and laid in the church there, with the intention of being
brought out next day into the market-place for exhibition, and
probably with the hope of some cures being effected. But when the
bearers tried to remove it from the church they could not with all
their strength raise it from the floor; so the sermon was preached
outside, a collection made, and the shrine (which now could be lifted
with perfect ease) brought home. The expedition with Saint Egwin was
quite successful, and a considerable sum of money collected towards
the building.
As time went on the Monastery waxed in wealth and importance, and
succeeding abbots completed, furnished, and decorated the new church
planned by Abbot Walter. It had the usual choir, nave, central tower,
and transepts; and cloisters surrounded by monastic buildings. Those
who know the larger Norman churches of England will be able to form a
fairly correct impression of the church at this time; but it is
impossible to imagine truly the effect of the painted walls, arches
and columns, the rich monuments, shrines, and altars decorated with
fine embroideries, goldsmith's work, and jewellery; all illuminated
by windows of richly coloured glass.
From time to time Abbots with a taste or genius for building added to
the structure. In the thirteenth century the central tower fell, and
this was in part rebuilt and the choir repaired by Marleberge, an
Abbot conspicuous by his ability, of whom we shall hear later. It was
Marleberge who helped to complete a bell tower, which also fell to the
ground not many years after, to be replaced by the beautiful campanile
which still remains. Although the great church of the Monastery was
the principal part of that institution, and on it was lavished all the
wealth and skill available, yet it was but a small part of the whole
group of buildings forming the "mitred Abbey" of Saint Mary and Saint
Egwin. Round the cloister were ranged the principal chambers
accommodating the abbot and the monks. Here were the chapter house in
which meetings of various kinds were held, the refectory where meals
were served and partaken of, the long dormitory where the monks slept,
and the scriptorium in which the writing and illuminating was done.
Round the outer courtyard, entered by the great gatehouse, which could
be defended in case of need, were other buildings, barns, stables, and
servants' quarters. Not far away was the hospital, and almost
adjoining the principal gatehouse was the Almonry where the poorer
guests were received and food served out to the needy. This building
exists at the present time, and it will be observed that it is not
enclosed within the boundary wall but is open on one side to the
public green.
[Illustration: THE GATEHOUSE AND ALMONRY]
The Monastery owned much land, mostly in the neighbourhood, and before
the dissolution the income through various channels has been
calculated at about eighty thousand pounds of our present money. Dr.
Jessop has described with wonderful realism the daily routine of the
Benedictine monasteries, and the chronicles of Evesham have provided
him with some of his most valuable information. In addition to the
daily services which occupied much of their time, we find every member
of the community busy with some work specially entrusted to him. In a
well-regulated monastery idleness was impossible; the limited time
permitted for leisure was usually occupied by recreation, gardening
and bowls both being favourite pastimes. Of course writing and
illumination were in constant demand, and Dr. Jessop has pointed out
that in addition to the production of church service books, of music,
and educational work in connection with the school, "a small army of
writers" must have been needed in the "business department of the
scriptorium." The Benedictine rule would appear to have been framed
with the idea of giving full employment to every inmate of the
monastery.
Considering the wealth of the institution, consisting for the most
part in land, and the responsibilities consequently incurred, we are
not surprised to read that before the dissolution the Abbey of Evesham
contained eighty-nine monks and sixty-five servants. The property did
not all lie in the near neighbourhood. In the fifteenth century the
Abbey of Alcester came into the hands of the Monastery. At an earlier
period the Priory of Penwortham in Lancashire was granted to this
wealthy body, and in the time of William Rufus monks were sent to a
religious house at Odensee in the island of Fuenen, in the Baltic sea,
to instruct the members in the Evesham usage of the rule of Saint
Benedict. This Priory became a little later a cell of the great Abbey.
Life in the Monastery of Evesham seems to have been sustained at a
high standard throughout its long career. If all the "religious
houses" had kept true to their vows and aims as that at Evesham did we
should no doubt have a very different story to tell. One abbot alone
appears to have been an exception to this general rule of good
conduct. This was Roger Norreys, a "dissolute monk" of Canterbury, who
was thrust upon the unwilling convent by Prince John when acting as
regent in King Richard's absence. After many years, and with much
difficulty, he was convicted "of seven or eight distinct offences" and
deposed. After the public exposure of his vicious life, and his unjust
and tyrannical rule, it is surprising that instead of being severely
punished he was sent to the cell of Penwortham and allowed to hold
office as Prior until his death. The story of the fight between the
convent, headed by Thomas de Marleberge, a clever and well educated
young monk who afterwards became abbot, and the wicked and shameless
Norreys, is related at full length in the chronicles which have come
down to us, written it would seem by Marleberge's own hand. The
scandalous behaviour of the Abbot and the neglected state of his house
was no secret, and the knowledge of it prompted the good bishop of
Worcester in an attempt to exceed his rights by visiting the Abbey in
order to inquire into the state of things existing there. In this act
he defeated his own ends, for the Abbot and monks immediately united
in common cause against so flagrant a breach of their privileges,
claiming, what was finally acceded to them, exemption from all
authority except that of Rome. The Abbot left the Monastery, and the
monks barricaded every entrance, so that when the bishop arrived he
was forced to encamp with his retinue upon the green outside the
walls. By the indiscretion of the bishop a legal point was raised upon
which the monks would by no means yield, preferring their present
miserable condition rather than allowing the slightest infringement of
what they believed to be their rights. The whole story, giving a
curious insight into the state of the country at that time, is too
long to relate here: an expensive and troublesome lawsuit followed,
which was carried from court to court in England and Rome, and was
finally settled some fifty years later in favour of the Monastery.
The last of the abbots and one of the most striking figures on the
roll was Clement Lichfield. To him we owe much of the architectural
beauty of both the parish churches; and besides erecting the bell
tower he adorned the choir of the "great church," as it was called,
with perpendicular decoration.
THE DISSOLUTION
Philip Hawford cannot be counted on the list of abbots. After having
borne and yielded much, Lichfield resigned, and Hawford was appointed
in his place, merely that he might surrender his charge in due form to
the King, an act to which it was impossible for Abbot Lichfield to
condescend, Hawford afterwards became Dean of Worcester, and there in
the cathedral, in a recess behind the reredos, his effigy may still be
seen, in full abbatial vestments, mitre and staff. Abbot Lichfield was
allowed to retire to the manor house of Offenham, where he died in
1546, and was buried in the lovely chapel he had built in early life
on to the church of All Saints beneath the shelter of his own Abbey.
* * * * *
The story of the Monastery has now come to an end. In 1536 the lesser
priories and monasteries were suppressed, and we can well imagine the
tremor which this daring act of Henry must have sent through the
religious world. We can be sure the blow was unexpected by the monks
themselves. Only a few years before this Clement Lichfield had devoted
much labour and money to the decoration of the great church, and his
last work was the building of the tower which stands to this day. We
can never know whether the architectural additions which he made to
the parish churches were suggested by the suspicion that they might
survive that glorious edifice under whose shadow they reposed; but in
his later years of retirement surely we may believe that he
experienced a sorrowful gratification at the thought that some of his
work would remain for the admiration of future ages, and that his
mortal remains would lie in peace within the chapel which, in his
youth, he had planned and adorned.
While Thomas Cromwell and his agents were engaged in their grim work
of destruction we can fancy how Rumour first made herself busy; how
the people talked of royal commissions and inquiries; tales would
reach them of priories and convents which were seized, and of monks
and nuns thrown upon the world. Messengers were seen to come and go,
and the great gatehouse of the Abbey was eagerly watched by the
curious and anxious townspeople. They talked from door to door, and in
clusters in the market-place, and on Merstow Green, from which the
precincts were entered. At last the blow fell! One by one the monks
filed out of their historic home in solemn procession, their heads
bent beneath a weight of misery they were hardly able to bear, though
not yet capable of realising the full meaning of the calamity which
had befallen them. It is true they were not sent into the world
entirely without means of subsistence; some who were in holy orders
had been appointed to livings by the Abbot and convent; to others
pensions were allowed, but what would this avail in their time of
sorrow!
Then the grand pile of Gothic buildings was resigned to the King's
agents, and a great cloud hung over the little town. In a short time
the gorgeous shrines and altars were plundered and desecrated; the
buildings were sold; and before the eyes of the astonished inhabitants
tower and pinnacle, church and chapter-house, gatehouse and cloister,
fell a prey to the hand of the destroyer!
CHAPTER IV
THE REMAINS OF THE ABBEY
"_... work, that stood inviolate_
_When axe and hammer battered down the state_
. . . . . . . .
_... the tall Belfry of the Abbey Gate_
_Yet stands majestic, pinnacled, elate,_
_And fills the Vale with music far and wide._"
--HERBERT NEW.
The earliest architectural remains are the work of Norman abbots. The
most perfect relic of this period is Abbot Reginald's Gateway, now
leading from the market-place into the churchyard, which consists of
side walls both decorated with round arches and shafts. The building
above has been much "restored." As there are no signs of stone
groining, the superstructure was, in all probability, always of
timber, but the design of the arcades, and certain moulded arch stones
found embedded in the soil below would seem to point to the existence
in former times of two stone arches, one at each end, which would add
much to the strength of the building. This gateway stood in a line of
wall enclosing the monastic precincts and the outer yard in which
stand the parish churches, and stretching to the river eastwards and
westwards. The lower portions of the walls have recently been cleared
of earth and exposed to view. It will be noticed that the soil has
risen by gradual accumulation to a height of several feet above its
original level in the seven hundred and fifty years which have elapsed
since the construction. In monastic times this gateway figured in the
important ceremony attending the installation of a new abbot. Before
entering the precincts of the monastery the destined prelate,
accompanied by his chaplains and personal following, halted in this
corner of the market-place, and after entering one of the adjoining
houses where his shoes were removed he proceeded barefoot into the
churchyard. The whole convent, duly accoutred, were in waiting, and as
soon as the new abbot appeared in the gate they emerged in ordered
procession from the north porch of the great church to meet him. After
various formalities he was solemnly escorted to the church, where
further important ceremonials were performed.
[Illustration: ABBOT REGINALD'S GATEWAY]
To the previous century may be assigned the bases of the substantial
piers which stood at the crossing of the nave and transept, and
supported the tower of the great church. These remains may be seen in
the excavated hollow a few steps from the southern side of bell tower.
The tower of the church was begun by Abbot Walter soon after the
Conquest, and there can be little doubt that these massive foundations
belong to his time. If we follow the line of wall to the south from
this point we come to an arch, bare on this side but elaborately
carved on the other with two rows of figures under canopies. This
archway was in the east walk of the cloisters, and gave entrance to a
vaulted passage connecting the cloisters with the chapter-house.
Though the figures have been considerably mutilated and weather-worn
it will be seen that the carving is of great beauty; the outer figures
are seated while the inner ones stand, and over both are placed
canopies of tabernacle work. We know this as the work of Abbot
Brokehampton, by whom it was erected early in the fourteenth century.
The bare face of the arch was originally hidden by the stone vault
forming the roof of the passage already referred to. The chapter-house
stood out in the field; but much farther, even to the edge of the bank
which slopes down to the monks' fish ponds, did the choir and Lady
chapel extend.
As we retrace our steps we follow the line of the transepts. When we
reach the exposed foundations, let us pause awhile and allow our
imagination full sway. We are standing in the midst of the choir, in
the "dim religious light" of a great mediaeval church. Above is the
"high embowed roof" of the central tower; around are the stalls set in
a screen of woodwork intricately carved. All is mellowed by the
"storied windows," which break the light into many coloured rays.
Looking westward, over the blank wall, we should see in vision the
tall rood screen and gallery, and, stretching far beyond, the long
vista of Norman arches and painted roof: and through the screen
glimpses would reach us of the many-coloured west window. Let us turn
round, and in place of sunlit trees and river conjure up the broad
flight of stone steps, the stately sanctuary above, with its glorious
reredos enriched with tabernacle work and carving, gold, silver, and
colours; and the clerestory lights shedding that sweet lustre we have
seen somewhere never to forget!
The bell tower rising in solitary state beside us cannot wait for its
true chronological order. It is one of the few existing examples of
many separate belfries built to hold the bells either for convenience,
or in cases where the towers of the church were of insufficient
strength. As a rule these buildings were much broader and less
graceful in design. This tower has been critcised as "squat," but
considering its use it will be seen that a broad base is essential to
its character. In reality, it is remarkable how much delicacy and
grace have been given by form and proportion, without lessening the
strength or utility. The tower was built by Clement Lichfield in the
last years of his abbacy, and hardly finished at his resignation in
1539. That the builder and his local contemporaries were proud of this
last ornament to the town, is proved by the inscription on Lichfield's
grave, which concludes with the line "in whose time the new tower of
Evesham was built."
The bell tower is indeed Evesham's chief glory, from some standpoints
her principal cause for pride. Unique in its character, it strikes
every beholder with surprise and pleasure in proportion to his
capacity for the appreciation of stately form and exquisite
workmanship. Built by the accomplished and learned Lichfield in the
pure perpendicular style, at a time when Gothic architecture was fast
sinking in its decline, it would seem to be, not only one of the
triumphs of mediaeval art, but one of the very last efforts of a dying
tradition; in it we see embodied the lofty thought of one of our
noblest abbots. Though it has not witnessed the beginnings of the
conventual life, the early struggles, nor the palmy days of
monasticism, it forms a connecting link between the dim past and this
present time. It is, as it were, a monument perpetuating the memory of
a great period and a great institution.
If the atmosphere be clear we should ascend the spiral staircase, and
from the summit, no great height indeed, we shall gain a view of the
town with the encircling river, and the vale with the surrounding
hills. The tower still performs its function, and every day the chimes
play a different tune, all familiar airs that never tire, but with
repetition seem rather to gain in association and charm.
If we take the path from the tower which brings us to the left side of
Saint Lawrence's church, we skirt an old wall which bounded the great
courtyard of the Abbey, and joined the great church to the gate-house.
We soon come to a door of fifteenth century workmanship, and close by
is a curious Gothic chimney of about the same date. On the inner side
was the porter's lodge, and from here to the adjacent church of Saint
Lawrence ran a covered way, probably a vaulted passage like a cloister
walk, through which the officiating priest would enter. If we proceed
we soon find ourselves at the bottom of Vine Street, and looking
across Merstow Green; and over the house-tops, bounding the horizon we
see Clark's Hill, a steep bank on the opposite side of the river,
traditionally said to have been planted by the monks as a vineyard. On
our left is a large plastered building enclosed within substantial
iron railings. This was once the great gatehouse of the Monastery, and
was built in the fourteenth century by Abbot Chiriton, who obtained a
special licence from King Edward the Third to fortify the abbey
precincts. The windows and the wing projecting outwards are
comparatively modern, but a Gothic window may be seen in the wall
facing the churchyard, and the original arches can be traced on the
garden front. Close by, and possibly adjoining, was the Barton Gate
which led to the stables and outhouses. The long low building of
stone and timber, washed over in the old manner with lime, which rises
from the grass on our left was once the Almonry of the Abbey. It is
now occupied as offices and separate dwellings. The front is extremely
picturesque with its buttresses, perpendicular window and quaint
openings. The western portion, built mainly of timber, with here and
there the remains of carving, and a diaper imprinted on the plaster,
contains the great fireplace, clearly indicated on this side by the
mass of solid stonework. Turning the corner into Little Abbey Lane we
come to the yard at the back, and we may be allowed to view the
interior of the Almoner's kitchen, which still retains some of its
primitive character. From this apartment a passage runs through the
entire length of the building, and this was no doubt originally
continued, forming a communication with the main buildings of the
Monastery. In the corner of the courtyard, beneath a brick gable which
is mere modern patchwork, the passage takes an abrupt turn, and in the
angle is placed a curious "lantern" of stone, which, from its
character, may very probably be the work of the Gloucester school of
masons of the fifteenth century. The proper position and use of this
curious relic is only guessed at. The chambers below are said to have
served the purpose of a prison at one time, the prisoners' food being
placed in the lantern, and taken by the unfortunate inmates through
the hatch cut in the wall behind. The passage is continued from this
corner to the outer wall of the building where it abruptly terminates
in a screen of modern construction. If we go farther round this block
into the garden we shall come to another cottage, and in the front
room we may see a well-carved fireplace ornamented with five
quatrefoils. It is composed of the oolite stone used for all the finer
and more important work in the Monastery, but has been lately painted,
with unfortunate result. Beyond a partition is a beautifully carved
fragment which would seem to have formed part of an elaborate shrine
or chantry, but now serves as the lintel of the scullery window.
Overlooking the garden in which we stand as we leave the door is the
gable end of a plain rectangular building, now cottages, but formerly
the Abbot's stables.
One more relic completes the list of the remains of the "late Abbey,"
as Leland pathetically alludes to that important establishment.
Walking across the Green we see before us an old stone porch embattled
above, and behind it a plain building of two storeys. This was the
Grammar School of Abbot Lichfield, and his inscription over the door
may still be deciphered, "ORATE PRO ANIMA CLEMENTIS ABBAT." The
schoolhouse is of timber, and has been little altered, except that the
front is spoiled by the substitution of brick for wood and plaster;
the ornamental battlement on the porch is also of recent date.