Evesham written by Edmund H. New
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Edmund H. New >> Evesham
For more than a hundred years after the destruction of the noble pile
the site was used as a stone quarry, and fragments may be found in
almost all the older houses in the town, and in many farm buildings in
the neighbourhood. There is hardly an old garden near that has not
some carved stones of curious shape recognisable by the antiquary as
having once formed part of a shaft, a window, or an archway of the
proud Abbey. Of these scattered fragments the most important is the
lectern of alabaster, Romanesque in style, now, after long misuse and
neglect serving its original purpose in the church of Saint Egwin at
Norton, a village lying nearly three miles to the north of the town. A
description of this relic will be found in the last section of this
work.
The local tradition of the splendour of the Monastery is no doubt
handed down to us by Thomas Habington, the antiquary, who visited the
town in 1640. "There was not to be found," he writes, with pardonable
exaggeration, "out of Oxford or Cambridge, so great an assemblage of
religious buildings in the kingdom"!
CHAPTER V
THE PARISH CHURCHES
The two parish churches, placed together in one yard, make with the
bell tower an unusually striking group. What then would be the
feelings aroused in the spectator were the great church, a cathedral
in magnitude and splendour, still visible, rising majestically above
roofs and spires. To us the Abbey which is gone can do no more than
add solemnity to the scene which once it graced. It matters little by
which entrance we approach the churchyard, for from every side the
buildings group harmoniously; each of the steeples acting as it were
as a foil to the other: and both the spires unite in adding dignity to
the bell tower. The churchyard in Norman times would seem to have been
part of the Abbey precincts, as it is enclosed within Abbot Reginald's
wall already described, and a second wall, part of which is still
standing, divided it from the Monastery and the monastic grounds.
The Church of All Saints seems to have served, from very early times,
as the parish church. As we examine it we read, as in an ancient and
partly illegible manuscript, its long story. The restorer, more
ruthless than Age or Time, has, with the best intentions, laid his
heavy hand upon it, and obliterated much of its character and history;
but enough remains to interest us, though pleasure is now mingled with
much vain regret. In the simple Norman arch through which we pass as
we enter the nave, and perhaps the western wall with the small
round-headed windows, we find the earliest records. The slight tower
with its sharply-pointed windows and delicate spire was added,
probably supplanting an earlier and simple porch, in the time of the
Edwards. The arches and northern clerestory of the nave belong to a
rather later period when the church was found too narrow for the
increasing population; while the arches on the southern side with no
clerestory above, are probably later still. The choir and north wall
of the nave are the work of the restorer, and tell us nothing but a
tale of culpable neglect and mistaken zeal! The head of the north door
of the chancel is, however, a relic of the original building, and this
should be carefully examined. It is beautifully cut with double rows
of cusps, and is of fourteenth century workmanship. The latest Gothic
additions are the work of Clement Lichfield. To this Abbot we owe the
outer porch so deeply panelled, with its two entrance doorways, its
pierced battlements, and finely carved timber roof; to him also do we
breathe our thanks as we stand looking up at the lovely vaulting of
the Lichfield Chapel built by him in his younger days when Prior of
the Monastery. Here was Lichfield buried, and beneath the floor his
body lies; formerly a memorial brass engraved with effigy and
inscription marked the spot, but this has long since disappeared. The
inscription, however, can be read on a tablet lately erected by pious
hands to perpetuate his memory. Over the entrance we may still see the
initials of the builder carved upon an ornamental shield. The windows
are now filled with modern glass, not unworthily telling the
oft-repeated story of the "vanished Abbey." In the upper lights are
represented figures of the Virgin Mary, and of Eoves with his swine.
The shields on either side of the former figure bear the lily and the
rose; to the left of Eoves are the arms of the Borough of Evesham, and
on the right those attributed to the ancient Earls of Mercia. The
figures below show Saint Egwin, with the arms of the See of Worcester
to the left, those of the Monastery to the right; and Abbot Lichfield,
with his own arms (Lichfield alias Wych) on the left, and those of the
Rev. F.W. Holland, to whose memory the windows were glazed, oh the
right. In the west window of the chapel is Simon de Montfort, Earl of
Leicester, with the arms of de Montfort on the left, and those of
James the First, who granted the Borough its charter, on the right.
Above him is his opponent and conqueror, Prince Edward; to the left
his own arms as eldest son of the monarch, and to the right the
traditional arms of Edward the Confessor; who according to the Abbey
Chronicles first granted the town a market and the right of levying
tolls. In one of the carved panels below these windows is a variation
of the coat-of-arms of the Monastery.
As we leave the church porch we shall notice the black and white house
adjoining Abbot Reginald's gateway on the right. This is now a private
house, but was until lately the Vicarage. The lower rooms have been
made to project to the level of the first floor, and the
picturesqueness given by an overhanging storey has thus been lost. In
one of these rooms is a large fifteenth-century fireplace of stone.
The Church of Saint Lawrence has little to say to us of its history.
Though an old foundation the irregular western tower is the earliest
part now standing, and this is not older than the fourteenth or
fifteenth century; the rest of the church was built in Lichfield's
time, but after having lain in ruins for many years it underwent a
complete restoration towards the middle of last century, with the
result that much of the Gothic character is lost. The general plan of
the church with its panelled arcade and open clerestory is original,
but the northern side is modern, and compared with the old work hard
and lacking in feeling. The east window and the chapel now used as the
baptistery are both fine examples of perpendicular architecture and
worthy of careful study. The carved detail round the east window with
its playful treatment of flying buttresses, battlements, and pinnacles
is charming in its delicacy and proportion; and some of the detail is
almost as sharp as when it left the mason's hand four hundred years
ago. The chapel is, in its way, perfect, a complete vault of fan
tracery. The decayed condition of the broken canopies, once flanking
an altar, and which were the work of the same hands as the east
window, shows into what a dilapidated condition the church had fallen.
There was a corresponding chapel on the north side of the nave, but
this has been long demolished. The present font is an unsympathetic
copy of the old one, dating from the fifteenth century and still
preserved at Abbey Manor. Outside the tower on the north side, and set
on a level with the eye, should be noticed a carving of the
Crucifixion, much worn by weather and rough usage; but even yet may be
traced a master hand in the attitudes and proportion of the figures.
CHAPTER VI
THE TOWN
_The towne of Evesham is meetly large and well builded of tymbre ...
The market is very celebrate_.--LELAND, _circ._ 1540.
The town of Evesham consists, by reason of its insular position, of
only one thoroughfare. The river winds round enclosing it on three
sides, so that, there being but one bridge, there is no other outlet
except towards the north. There are four principal streets: High
Street, which was in all probability an extension of the "celebrate"
market along the Worcester and North Road; Vine Street and Bridge
Street, both skirting the boundary wall of the abbey precincts, and so
probably the oldest in their origin; and Port Street, the main
thoroughfare of Bengeworth, forming part of the London road beyond the
river bridge. High Street, Bridge Street, and Vine Street lead from
the Market Place, and here we will stand and look around. On the north
side is the "market-sted," "fayre and large" as when Leland viewed
it, but now converted to private uses. It is a fine example of Gothic
timber construction; but to think of it as it appeared to Leland's
admiring gaze, we must imagine the walls and partitions of the lower
storey cleared away, and fancy it supported only by massive pillars of
oak, roughly hewn and of great strength. Below was the market
sheltered from the rain, and such as may still be seen at Ledbury and
other places; and above were chambers devoted to the business of the
town, and presumably of the various guilds, of which little is now
known.
About 1586 the "New Town Hall" was erected, probably of stone from the
ruins of the Abbey, on the west side of the square; but from this
point the older part of the building is entirely obscured by recent
additions, and to understand its first appearance we must walk round
it into Vine Street. The general plan, though the difference in
material necessitates changes in form, is much the same as in the
older Booth Hall, for by this name the older market hall is known.
There is the basement, open until lately and used as a market, and
above is the large hall, and the rooms for public business. The clock
turret and ornamented gable were added in commemoration of Queen
Victoria's Jubilee of 1887. Little else calls for notice, but the
group of timber gables in the corner near the churchyard will
certainly attract the eye by their picturesque grouping. The most
prominent of these gables is carved with a flowing design, and in the
upper angle can be seen a large T, and some smaller letters which have
not been deciphered. Above the chimneys rise the tower and spire of
All Saints Church.
[Illustration: _In the_ Market Place, _Evesham_]
The breadth of High Street may be accounted for by the supposition
that the roadsides in this direction were broad and grass-grown, and
used for the market, which was large and important. Indeed, until
quite lately, the fairs now carried on in a closed market were held in
the open street, the animals being penned up by hurdles. Bordering the
green sward houses would have sprung up to cater for the wants of the
farmers and drovers, and, as the town grew larger, a continuous line
of street would be formed, and the grass edge would naturally be paved
for cleanliness and convenience. The irregularity of the houses in
shape, size, and colour will at once strike the visitor. The primitive
timber has been almost entirely superseded by the more "respectable"
and secure brick front, but the interiors and the backs of the houses
show that the construction is often really of wood with a thin veneer
of old-fashioned respectability. High Street leads on to Green Hill,
now severed from the town by the railway, and becomes the main road
northwards. Near the end of the street, towards the railway stations,
is a building of stone and brick thinly coated with plaster, roofed
with stone tiles, and with a recessed porch and balcony. The railing
of the balcony especially should be noticed, being of unusual design,
and very likely the work of the local blacksmith more than two hundred
years ago. The name, Almswood, reminds us that here was once a wood
belonging to the office of the Almoner to the Abbey. On the same side
of the street, nearer the centre of the town, is another interesting
house. It is a mansion of brick, and in front are some very fine
railings fixed on a low wall of stone. The door, which is in the
middle of the front, is approached by wide steps, and over it is a
heavy canopy supported by wrought-iron brackets of decorated scroll
work. This house belonged to a certain Thomas Cookes, whose family
were large landowners in the neighbourhood of Tardebigg in the
northern part of the county, and was built by him in the time of King
William III. It contains a fine staircase, ornamental fireplaces, and
panelled walls. At the back is a paved yard enclosed by short wings,
and from here a stairway and tunnel lead under a narrow street into
what was once a large and beautiful garden. Though now sadly curtailed
and overlooked, enough is left to show what it must have been like in
former days. Beside the main path is a tall and well-cut sundial of
stone, with a weather-vane at the top pierced with the initials of
Robert Cookes, and the date 1720. At the end of the garden is a break
in the wall, formerly railed across, and flanked on either side by
tapering columns. This was a favourite device for obtaining a long
vista extending beyond the garden, and when it was constructed the
view over the meadows and river to Clark's Hill must have formed a
charming outlook. It is now obstructed and spoiled by a modern street.
In the farther corner of this old-fashioned garden is a tower of wood
known as the Temple, and at the back of this an external staircase
winds, giving access to the upper rooms, both curiously decorated with
carving and painting. There is little doubt that some of the woodwork
came from the Abbey. Facing this is an arbour formed of a huge
Jacobean mantel of carved oak, bearing in the centre the arms of the
Borough of Evesham.
[Illustration: (High Street)]
An eighteenth century romance attaches to this property. A young
doctor, skilful, extravagant, and presumably attractive, won the hand
of a Miss Cookes, who inherited the place from her father. After the
death of his wife this physician, Baylies by name, being deeply in
debt, and having mortgaged his property, disappeared. The house and
garden were taken possession of by one of the principal creditors, who
must have justified his claim, for the house long remained in his
family. The enterprising doctor was next heard of in Prussia, where he
became court physician and adviser to the Emperor Frederick the Great.
Three old streets lead out of High Street. To the west, Magpie Lane
ends in the river meadows; and to the east, Swan Lane and Oat Street
reach the river at the Mill.
Vine Street is little more than a continuation of the Market Place
towards Merstow Green; and its old name, Pig Market, shows that it was
used in the same manner. Here, again, many of the old houses have been
refronted, thus appearing of a much later date than they are in
reality. The Georgian dislike of gabled irregularity is once more
exemplified. But Vine Street is saved from becoming commonplace by the
low line of buildings at the end, still known as the Almonry, and over
which the Gatehouse, in spite of its dismantled and modernised state,
still seems to keep guard.
Bridge Street is probably the most ancient of the streets. The houses
on the south side have gardens reaching to the Abbey walls, a position
which would add greatly to their security in early times, and the
narrowness of the roadway also goes towards proving its antiquity.
This must have been the most frequented thoroughfare, leading as it
did in old times to the ford, and afterwards to the bridge and the
Abbot's mill beside it. Here were the oldest inns; and though all the
house-fronts have been sadly modernised, either by the insertion of
huge plateglass windows or in some less defensible manner, yet the eye
still passes with pleasure from house to house, and the effect of the
irregularity, heightened by the contrast of light and shade, is
picturesque in the extreme.
Starting at the top we have on one side the old Booth Hall already
described. On this side the bay windows projecting from the level of
the first floor add much to the quaint effect. Almost opposite is "The
Alley" continuing one side of High Street into Bridge Street and the
Market Place. As seen from the High Street side this narrow passage
between the shops retains much of its old character, and the windows
with their wooden frames and mullions are worth notice. The house on
the left next to the Bank with its prominent bay windows was at one
time the town house of a family named Langstone, and it was here that
King Charles the First stayed and held his "Court" in 1644. Almost
opposite is a stately front of brick dating from the next century, of
elegant proportions and with well-designed spouts. Further down on the
right side is a much renovated gabled building of timber, possessing
a fine doorway of the fifteenth century with its massive door and
wrought-iron hinges intact. Almost next door is "The Crown," one of
the old coaching inns with the courtyard opening on the street. At one
time an open gallery ran round the first floor, and traces of this may
be seen on the further side. A little above the old house we have just
noticed was the White Hart Inn, the most celebrated house when country
inns were in their prime. It is now in the occupation of a market
gardener and has been much altered, but some of the passages and rooms
are still to be seen in the back premises. An amusing story connected
with the White Hart Inn has been revived by Mr. Halliwell-Phillipps,
who by means of it has endeavoured to explain the line in "Troilus and
Cressida." "The fool slides o'er the ice that you should break." The
anecdote is related by Robert Armin, who claims to have been an
eye-witness of the incident; and this would seem probable, as the
local touches are correct and Armin was for some time a member of the
company alluded to. It is to be found in a work entitled, _Foole Vpon
Foole, or Sixte Sortes of Sottes_, published in 1605, and re-edited
and issued, with the author's name attached, in 1608, as _A Nest of
Ninnies_. The fool referred to in the line quoted above is suspected
to be not merely the imaginary representative of a type but the
popular local Fool of Shakespeare's time, a fellow of brilliant parts,
but eccentric, and, we must suppose, lacking in balance and common
sense. We are told that one winter Lord Chandos's players visited
Evesham, and Jack Miller, our Fool, became greatly attached to the
company and in particular to Grumball the clown; indeed, so greatly
was he enamoured that he "swore he would goe all the world over with
Grumball." The townspeople being loth to lose so popular a character,
Jack was locked in a room at the back of the White Hart Inn from which
he could see the players journeying on their way to Pershore, their
next stage, by the road on the farther side of the river. With
difficulty he contrived to escape by the window, and ran down to the
water's edge. The stream, says our author, "was frozen over thinely,"
but Miller "makes no more adoe, but venters over the haven, which is
by the long bridge, as I gesse some forty yards over; yet he made
nothing of it, but my hart aked when my eares heard the ise crack all
the way. When he was come unto me," continues Armin, "I was amazed,
and tooke up a brick-bat, which lay there by, and threw it, which no
sooner fell upon the ise but it burst. Was not this strange that a
foole of thirty yeeres was borne of that ise which would not endure
the fall of a brick-bat?"! The fact that Robert Armin and William
Shakespeare were fellow-actors at the Globe Theatre lends probability
to Mr. Halliwell-Phillipps' elucidation.
Continuing our way beyond the Crown Hotel we see on our right, below
the level of the street, a quaint row of gables with little shops
below quite unchanged by the present conditions of trade. Passing
onward towards the bridge we shall see to the best advantage the full
effect of this most picturesque of streets.
Alas! that modern enterprise and modern requirements should have
demanded the removal of such a bridge as fifty years ago spanned the
stream in eight irregular arches. Here we have convenience, but will
this condone for the charm of picturesqueness and long association? We
cannot but mourn over the loss. From the bridge we look up the river
to the weir, mill and water-meadows. On the right, by the yard not far
up the stream, stood, in the troublous reign of King Stephen a castle;
and from this fortress William de Beauchamp sallied forth, forcibly
entered the Abbey, and carried away the goods of the Church. But an
abbot in those days was quite equal to meeting a hereditary sheriff on
his own ground. Abbot William de Andeville descended on the castle,
took it, razed it to the ground, and consecrated the site as a
cemetery; no vestige of either castle or cemetery now remains. Old
Bengeworth is hardly more than one long street, and there is little
now to claim our attention. On the right side of the street, set back
behind some iron railings, is a school founded early in the eighteenth
century by John Deacle, a man of humble origin and a native of
Bengeworth, who, moving to London became a wealthy woollen draper with
a shop in Saint Paul's churchyard, and finally an Alderman of the
City. In the new church is his tomb with an elaborate effigy in the
costume of the period. Passing up the street we should turn before
coming to the Talbot Inn and look back: from this point the irregular
houses and roofs with the Bell Tower rising beyond make an attractive
vignette. The old churchyard can be seen behind the Talbot Inn. The
church is gone in favour of the modern and "handsome" structure which
we saw before us as we turned out of the main street. Here are only
the graves and the base of the old tower. Opposite the remains of the
tower is an old stone house, once the manor, where a little chapel can
still be seen in an upper room. Except the monument to John Deacle
there is nothing in the new church to call forth our interest.
[Illustration: THE BELL TOWER FROM BENGEWORTH]
By pursuing our way past the old burial-ground, and taking the turn to
the right we find ourselves in Cooper's Lane, associated with a family
long connected with the borough. To our left is a pretty cottage, and
beyond, seen among the trees but with outhouses abutting on the road,
is the Mansion House, still retaining in every feature that old-world
sense of remoteness and repose so precious in these days; like a
backwater of a rapid river, lying unmoved while the stream of life
rushes vociferously by; a veritable "haunt of ancient peace."
The lane leads us into the Cheltenham Road, and we should turn into
the public Pleasure Grounds, or, better still, walk a few steps
farther along the road, until we have passed them, in order to see the
true situation chosen by the monks for their church and
dwelling-place.
How dignified does the Bell Tower appear, with the twin spires, rising
from the summit of the bank, above the willows which edge the fish
ponds! And below in the smooth waters their image is reflected, broken
and clear at intervals. All the morning does the sun glorify the
scene, and beneath its intense rays the towers gleam white against the
blue heavens. Every third hour the bells in Lichfield's tower play an
old tune fraught with sweet memories. The horses browse in the meadows
or stand beneath the shade of the tall elms. Often a brightly-coloured
caravan is to be seen encamped near the ponds, and beside it a fire
which sends a faint cloud of blue smoke up against the dark green of
the foliage. Out come the children to play on the green slope, to fish
in the ponds or gather flowers in the meadow below. An old barge,
perhaps, lies under the bank, towed up with much labour from the
Severn. Pleasure boats pass now and again, disturbing the water and
breaking the reflections into a thousand fragments. Evening comes on;
the sun declines, and the face of the tower is dark against the
glittering beams; the water receives the glow and reflects the
radiance. Tower, spires, trees and landscape assume one sombre hue;
clear cut against the sky their forms appear; and, as night falls, the
single deep-toned bell rings out the "Curfew" across the silent vale.
Though lying outside the town, and separated from it by the railway,
Green Hill is included within the limits of the borough, and forms
part of the Evesham parishes. The hill is memorable on account of the
well-known battle, described in the next chapter, in which Prince
Edward gained the victory over Simon de Montfort, thus concluding the
Barons' War. The exact site of the encounter is not known, but
tradition points to a spot in the Abbey Manor grounds called
Battlewell, on which it is averred de Montfort was slain; and the
fight probably extended over a great part of the level plateau on both
sides of the present main road.
Unfortunately Battlewell lies in private grounds, but the position may
be seen from Clark's Hill. It lies a hundred yards to the left of the
road nearly opposite a pretty thatched lodge, but cannot be seen from
the highway.