[p145]Concerning Font-Lore.

[p145]Concerning Font-Lore.By the Rev. P. Oakley Hill.Whenthose sermons in stone—the beautiful fonts of the Decorated and Perpendicular periods, which preached to a bygone age—come to be translated into modern English on an extensive and systematic scale, they will be found to be not only sermons theological, but treatises on hagiology, music, contemporary history, symbolism, and art of the highest order. One of the richest fields in font-lore is to be found in East Anglia, and Norfolk alone contains examples of sufficient importance and of vivid interest, to fill a whole volume on this particular subject. Only to mention a few, that will rapidly occur to a Norfolk antiquary, is to conjure up a varied and rich archæological vision, which can be extended indefinitely at will.Of canopied fonts perhaps that of S. Peter (Mancroft), Norwich, takes the palm. The carved oak canopy is supported by four massive posts, giving great dignity to the stone font[p146]which it overshadows. The canopy at Sall is of a more graceful type, being in the form of a crocketed spire, suspended by a pulley from an ancient beam projecting from the belfry platform. Elsing, Merton, and Worstead also possess font covers of great interest.Seven Sacrament fonts are numerous, that of New Walsingham being one of the finest of its kind in England. It belongs to the Perpendicular period, and is richly carved. On seven of its eight panels are sculptured figures representing the Seven Sacraments, the eighth exhibiting the Crucifixion. The stem carries figures of the four Evangelists and other saints, and rests on an elaborately-carved plinth, the upper part of which is in the form of a Maltese cross. A copy of this magnificent structure has been erected in the Mediæval Court of the Crystal Palace. A counterpart of the Walsingham font (more or less exact, though perhaps not so rich in carving) is to be seen at Loddon, with similar Maltese cross base, but the Vandal’s hand has nearly obliterated the figuring of the Sacramental panels. Other instances of Seven Sacrament fonts are to be seen in Norwich Cathedral, at Blofield, Martham, and elsewhere.[p147]Fonts bearing the date of their erection are found at Acle and Sall, the former having the following inscription upon the top step: “Orate pro diabus qui hūc fontem in honore dei fecerunt fecit anno dni millo cccc decimo.” An instance of a Posy font with date (sixteenth century) occurs in one of the Marshland churches, the Posybeing:—Thynk and Thank.The leaden font at Brundall is believed to be one of three only of its kind remaining in England; a fourth, somewhat damaged, existed at Great Plumstead until a few years ago, when alas! it perished in a disastrous fire which practically destroyed the church. Lion fonts are numerous, those of Acle and Strumpshaw being excellent examples.Remarkable examples of carved fonts are those at Toftrees, Blofield, Wymondham, Bergh Apton, Aylsham, Ketteringham, Sculthorpe, Walpole (S. Peter), etc. At Hemblington, dedicated to All Saints, there is a perfect little hagiology around the font-pedestal and upon seven of the panels of the basin, the eighth panel shewing the mediæval presentment of the Holy Trinity, the Almighty Father being somewhat[p148]blasphemously represented as an old man, while the Crucifix rests upon an orb, and (what is perhaps somewhat unusual) the Holy Dove appears about to alight on the Cross.FONT AT UPTON CHURCH, NORFOLK.Of Decorated Fonts in the county of Norfolk, that of Upton must be accountedfacile princeps. In beauty of design, in fulness of symbolism, in richness of detail, it is a faithful type of the elaborate art of the Decorated Period. It was originally coloured, fragments of red and blue[p149]paint being still visible. A massive base is formed by three octagonal steps rising tier upon tier, the upper step divided from the second by eight sets of quatrefoils, flanked at the corners by sitting dogs with open mouths. Upon the stem of the font there are eight figures inbas relief, standing upon pediments beneath overhanging canopies exquisitely carved. These canopies are adorned with crocketed pinnacles, and the interior of each has a groined roof, with rose boss in the centre. Some of the pediments are garnished with foliage, others exhibit quaint animals,e.g., a double dragon with but one head connecting the two bodies, two lions linked by their tails, and two dogs in the act of biting each other; all, of course, highly symbolical of various types of sin. The canopied figures around the pedestal represent the two Sacraments, an indication that even in the fourteenth century the two Sacraments of the Gospel were esteemed as of the first importance. Holy Communion is symbolised by five figures. A bishop in eucharistic vestments, his right hand raised in blessing, his left holding the pastoral staff, while the double dragon is beneath his feet. It is not unlikely that this ecclesiastic was de Spenser, the[p150]contemporary Bishop of Norwich, of military fame. The bishop is supported to right and left by angels robed and girded, circlets and crosses on their heads, each holding a candle in a somewhat massive candlestick. The graceful lines of the wings suggest the probability of the artist having belonged to a continental guild of stone carvers. The next two figures are priests, each vested in dalmatic, maniple, stole, and alb, acting as deacon and sub-deacon, the first holding an open service book, the second the chalice and pyx.The three remaining figures portrayHoly Baptism. Of the two godmothers and the godfather in the lay dress of the fourteenth century, the first holds a babe in her arms in swaddling clothes, the swathing band being crossed again and again. The other sponsors carry each a rosary.To digress for a moment; here is an interesting deduction. The infant is a girl—witness the two godmothers. The font cannot have been made later than about 1380, at which time the Decorated merged into the Perpendicular. Now the lord of the manor of Upton from 1358 onwards, for many years, was one[p151]John Buttetourt, or Botetourt, who, with his wife Matilda, had an only daughter and heiress, to whom was given the baptismal name Jocosa. It appears highly probable that the lord of Upton, rejoicing at the birth of his little heiress, caused the font to be designed and built as a memorial of her baptism. But it would seem that he did not live to see her settled in life, for in 1399 she had grown to early womanhood, had won the affection of Sir Hugh Burnell, who made her his wife, and by the following year, if not before, she had inherited the manor in her own right.To return to the description of the font. Resting on the canopies above described, and supported by eight half-angels with musical instruments, etc., is the large and handsome laver. The principal panels are occupied by reliefs of the four living creatures of the Revelation—the historic emblems of the four Evangelists—the flying lion, the flying bull, the man, and the eagle, the last named with scroll facing east. The four alternative panels represent angels, two holding instruments of music, two with heraldic shields. The panels are separated from each other by crocketed buttresses. The musical[p152]instruments shewn upon the font are of great interest. A kind of rebeck or lute twice occurs, and once a curious pair of cymbals. One half-angel is playing on a crowth, an early form of the fiddle, consisting of an oblong box, a couple of strings, a short straight and round handle, and a bow. Another of the half-angels holds an open music book, containing the ancient four-line score.The font has suffered some amount of mutilation in the five centuries of its existence; three or four heads have disappeared, also the right hand of the bishop, and the top of the pastoral staff; the chalice has been broken off, and the flying lion is fractured. And as a reminder of the iconoclastic century which was most likely responsible for the damage, these dates are roughly cut into the leaden lining of the bowl: 1641, 1662, 1696.

By the Rev. P. Oakley Hill.

Whenthose sermons in stone—the beautiful fonts of the Decorated and Perpendicular periods, which preached to a bygone age—come to be translated into modern English on an extensive and systematic scale, they will be found to be not only sermons theological, but treatises on hagiology, music, contemporary history, symbolism, and art of the highest order. One of the richest fields in font-lore is to be found in East Anglia, and Norfolk alone contains examples of sufficient importance and of vivid interest, to fill a whole volume on this particular subject. Only to mention a few, that will rapidly occur to a Norfolk antiquary, is to conjure up a varied and rich archæological vision, which can be extended indefinitely at will.

Of canopied fonts perhaps that of S. Peter (Mancroft), Norwich, takes the palm. The carved oak canopy is supported by four massive posts, giving great dignity to the stone font[p146]which it overshadows. The canopy at Sall is of a more graceful type, being in the form of a crocketed spire, suspended by a pulley from an ancient beam projecting from the belfry platform. Elsing, Merton, and Worstead also possess font covers of great interest.

Seven Sacrament fonts are numerous, that of New Walsingham being one of the finest of its kind in England. It belongs to the Perpendicular period, and is richly carved. On seven of its eight panels are sculptured figures representing the Seven Sacraments, the eighth exhibiting the Crucifixion. The stem carries figures of the four Evangelists and other saints, and rests on an elaborately-carved plinth, the upper part of which is in the form of a Maltese cross. A copy of this magnificent structure has been erected in the Mediæval Court of the Crystal Palace. A counterpart of the Walsingham font (more or less exact, though perhaps not so rich in carving) is to be seen at Loddon, with similar Maltese cross base, but the Vandal’s hand has nearly obliterated the figuring of the Sacramental panels. Other instances of Seven Sacrament fonts are to be seen in Norwich Cathedral, at Blofield, Martham, and elsewhere.

[p147]Fonts bearing the date of their erection are found at Acle and Sall, the former having the following inscription upon the top step: “Orate pro diabus qui hūc fontem in honore dei fecerunt fecit anno dni millo cccc decimo.” An instance of a Posy font with date (sixteenth century) occurs in one of the Marshland churches, the Posybeing:—

Thynk and Thank.

The leaden font at Brundall is believed to be one of three only of its kind remaining in England; a fourth, somewhat damaged, existed at Great Plumstead until a few years ago, when alas! it perished in a disastrous fire which practically destroyed the church. Lion fonts are numerous, those of Acle and Strumpshaw being excellent examples.

Remarkable examples of carved fonts are those at Toftrees, Blofield, Wymondham, Bergh Apton, Aylsham, Ketteringham, Sculthorpe, Walpole (S. Peter), etc. At Hemblington, dedicated to All Saints, there is a perfect little hagiology around the font-pedestal and upon seven of the panels of the basin, the eighth panel shewing the mediæval presentment of the Holy Trinity, the Almighty Father being somewhat[p148]blasphemously represented as an old man, while the Crucifix rests upon an orb, and (what is perhaps somewhat unusual) the Holy Dove appears about to alight on the Cross.

FONT AT UPTON CHURCH, NORFOLK.

Of Decorated Fonts in the county of Norfolk, that of Upton must be accountedfacile princeps. In beauty of design, in fulness of symbolism, in richness of detail, it is a faithful type of the elaborate art of the Decorated Period. It was originally coloured, fragments of red and blue[p149]paint being still visible. A massive base is formed by three octagonal steps rising tier upon tier, the upper step divided from the second by eight sets of quatrefoils, flanked at the corners by sitting dogs with open mouths. Upon the stem of the font there are eight figures inbas relief, standing upon pediments beneath overhanging canopies exquisitely carved. These canopies are adorned with crocketed pinnacles, and the interior of each has a groined roof, with rose boss in the centre. Some of the pediments are garnished with foliage, others exhibit quaint animals,e.g., a double dragon with but one head connecting the two bodies, two lions linked by their tails, and two dogs in the act of biting each other; all, of course, highly symbolical of various types of sin. The canopied figures around the pedestal represent the two Sacraments, an indication that even in the fourteenth century the two Sacraments of the Gospel were esteemed as of the first importance. Holy Communion is symbolised by five figures. A bishop in eucharistic vestments, his right hand raised in blessing, his left holding the pastoral staff, while the double dragon is beneath his feet. It is not unlikely that this ecclesiastic was de Spenser, the[p150]contemporary Bishop of Norwich, of military fame. The bishop is supported to right and left by angels robed and girded, circlets and crosses on their heads, each holding a candle in a somewhat massive candlestick. The graceful lines of the wings suggest the probability of the artist having belonged to a continental guild of stone carvers. The next two figures are priests, each vested in dalmatic, maniple, stole, and alb, acting as deacon and sub-deacon, the first holding an open service book, the second the chalice and pyx.

The three remaining figures portrayHoly Baptism. Of the two godmothers and the godfather in the lay dress of the fourteenth century, the first holds a babe in her arms in swaddling clothes, the swathing band being crossed again and again. The other sponsors carry each a rosary.

To digress for a moment; here is an interesting deduction. The infant is a girl—witness the two godmothers. The font cannot have been made later than about 1380, at which time the Decorated merged into the Perpendicular. Now the lord of the manor of Upton from 1358 onwards, for many years, was one[p151]John Buttetourt, or Botetourt, who, with his wife Matilda, had an only daughter and heiress, to whom was given the baptismal name Jocosa. It appears highly probable that the lord of Upton, rejoicing at the birth of his little heiress, caused the font to be designed and built as a memorial of her baptism. But it would seem that he did not live to see her settled in life, for in 1399 she had grown to early womanhood, had won the affection of Sir Hugh Burnell, who made her his wife, and by the following year, if not before, she had inherited the manor in her own right.

To return to the description of the font. Resting on the canopies above described, and supported by eight half-angels with musical instruments, etc., is the large and handsome laver. The principal panels are occupied by reliefs of the four living creatures of the Revelation—the historic emblems of the four Evangelists—the flying lion, the flying bull, the man, and the eagle, the last named with scroll facing east. The four alternative panels represent angels, two holding instruments of music, two with heraldic shields. The panels are separated from each other by crocketed buttresses. The musical[p152]instruments shewn upon the font are of great interest. A kind of rebeck or lute twice occurs, and once a curious pair of cymbals. One half-angel is playing on a crowth, an early form of the fiddle, consisting of an oblong box, a couple of strings, a short straight and round handle, and a bow. Another of the half-angels holds an open music book, containing the ancient four-line score.

The font has suffered some amount of mutilation in the five centuries of its existence; three or four heads have disappeared, also the right hand of the bishop, and the top of the pastoral staff; the chalice has been broken off, and the flying lion is fractured. And as a reminder of the iconoclastic century which was most likely responsible for the damage, these dates are roughly cut into the leaden lining of the bowl: 1641, 1662, 1696.

[p153]Watching Chambers in Churches.By the Rev. Geo. S. Tyack,B.A.Thesmallest acquaintance with the inventories, or the ceremonial, of our mediæval churches is sufficient to show anyone a glimpse of the extraordinary wealth of which the larger churches especially were possessed in those days. Vestments of velvet and silk and cloth of gold, adorned with jewels and the precious metals; crosses and candlesticks of gold, studded with gems; reliquaries that were ablaze with gorgeousness and beauty; and sometimes shrines and altars that were a complete mass of invaluable treasure; such were the contents of the choirs and sacristies of our cathedrals and abbey churches. This being the case, it is obvious that the greatest care had to be taken of such places. Then, even as now, there were desperadoes from whom the sanctity of the shrine could not protect it, if they could get a chance of fingering its jewels; men who would exclaim, with Falconbridge in the play of “King John” (Act III.,Sc. 3)—[p154]“Bell, book, and candle shall not drive me back,When gold and silver beck me to come on.”To protect the wealthier churches from desecration and loss, therefore, bands of watchers were organized, who throughout the night should be ever on the alert against the attacks of thieves; who would also, moreover, be able to raise, if need were, the alarm of fire. At Lincoln these guardians patrolled the Minster at nightfall, to assure themselves that all was safe. To facilitate the inspection of the whole building occasionally squints were made; as at the Cathedral of S. David’s, where the cross pierced in the east wall behind, and just above, the high altar, is supposed by some to have been for this purpose, a view being thus obtained of the choir from the Chapel of the Holy Trinity, orvice versâ.[p155]ABBOT’S PEW, MALMESBURY ABBEY.In several instances, however, it was found both more convenient and more effective to erect a special chamber, so placed and so elevated as to command a good view of the church, or of the portion of the church to be watched; and here a constant succession of watchers kept guard. One of our most interesting examples of this is at S. Albans. Near the[p157]site of the shrine of the patron saint (on which the fragments of the shattered shrine have been skilfully built up once more) is a structure, in two storeys, of carved timber. The lower stage is fitted with cupboards, in which were probably preserved relics, or such jewels and ornaments as were not kept permanently upon the shrine. A doorway in this storey admits to a staircase leading to the gallery above. This is the watchers’ chamber; the side fronting the shrine being filled with perpendicular tracery, whence the monks in charge could easily keep the treasures around them under observation. A somewhat similar structure is still seen at Christ Church, Oxford, and is sometimes spoken of as the shrine of S. Frideswide. It is really the watching-chamber for that shrine; and was erected in the fourteenth century upon an ancient tomb, supposed to be that of the founder of theferetrumof the saint, though popular report describes it as the resting-place of the bodies of her parents.In not a few cases, both in England and abroad, these chambers were built in a yet more durable fashion. At Bourges may be seen a stone loft on the left side of the altar; at[p158]Nuremberg also is one. In addition to the wooden chamber, already described, S. Alban’s Abbey (now the cathedral) has a small one of stone in the transept. Lichfield has a gallery over the sacristy door, which served the same purpose; and at Worcester an oriel was probably used by the watchers. Westminster Abbey has such a chamber over the chantry of King Henry VI., and Worcester Cathedral has one in the north aisle; and there are several other instances. Many churches had rooms over the north porch, as the cathedrals of Exeter and Hereford, the churches of Christchurch (Hampshire), Alford (Lincolnshire), and many others; and these in some cases, as at Boston, had openings commanding a view of the interior.Another explanation of the existence of a few watching lofts is sometimes given, besides the need of guarding the Church’s treasures. It is held by some that in the face of the deterioration of monastic simplicity and devotion in the later times before the Dissolution in England, the abbots felt the need of keeping a stricter eye upon their community; and these rooms were consequently constructed to enable them to[p159]look, unobserved themselves, into their abbey church, and to see that all whose duty called for their presence were there, and properly occupied. This theory is perhaps supported by the traditional name of “the abbot’s pew,” by which a very simple and substantial watching-chamber in the triforium of Malmesbury Abbey is called. With this may be compared another example in the priory church of S. Bartholomew, Smithfield. In these, and most of the other instances, the watching-chamber is an addition to the original structure, dating often considerably later than the rest. This is quoted by the believers in the rapid spread of monastic depravity in later ages in support of the theory just noticed; as is also the fact, that the “pew” is often near what formerly constituted the abbot’s private apartments within the adjoining monastery. It is probable that both explanations are true; some of these lofts forming “abbot’s pews,” as others certainly were for the guardian watchers of the shrines. In a large community it would certainly be wise for the head to be able at times to survey quietly and unobserved the actions of the rest; but this admission no more implies that the lives of all[p160]monks were scandalous, than does the presence of watchers by the shrines prove that all worshippers were thieves.We have noticed in this paper the chief watching-chambers in this country, but no doubt other examples occur which may have special points of interest.

By the Rev. Geo. S. Tyack,B.A.

Thesmallest acquaintance with the inventories, or the ceremonial, of our mediæval churches is sufficient to show anyone a glimpse of the extraordinary wealth of which the larger churches especially were possessed in those days. Vestments of velvet and silk and cloth of gold, adorned with jewels and the precious metals; crosses and candlesticks of gold, studded with gems; reliquaries that were ablaze with gorgeousness and beauty; and sometimes shrines and altars that were a complete mass of invaluable treasure; such were the contents of the choirs and sacristies of our cathedrals and abbey churches. This being the case, it is obvious that the greatest care had to be taken of such places. Then, even as now, there were desperadoes from whom the sanctity of the shrine could not protect it, if they could get a chance of fingering its jewels; men who would exclaim, with Falconbridge in the play of “King John” (Act III.,Sc. 3)—

[p154]“Bell, book, and candle shall not drive me back,When gold and silver beck me to come on.”

[p154]“Bell, book, and candle shall not drive me back,When gold and silver beck me to come on.”

[p154]“Bell, book, and candle shall not drive me back,

When gold and silver beck me to come on.”

To protect the wealthier churches from desecration and loss, therefore, bands of watchers were organized, who throughout the night should be ever on the alert against the attacks of thieves; who would also, moreover, be able to raise, if need were, the alarm of fire. At Lincoln these guardians patrolled the Minster at nightfall, to assure themselves that all was safe. To facilitate the inspection of the whole building occasionally squints were made; as at the Cathedral of S. David’s, where the cross pierced in the east wall behind, and just above, the high altar, is supposed by some to have been for this purpose, a view being thus obtained of the choir from the Chapel of the Holy Trinity, orvice versâ.

[p155]ABBOT’S PEW, MALMESBURY ABBEY.

In several instances, however, it was found both more convenient and more effective to erect a special chamber, so placed and so elevated as to command a good view of the church, or of the portion of the church to be watched; and here a constant succession of watchers kept guard. One of our most interesting examples of this is at S. Albans. Near the[p157]site of the shrine of the patron saint (on which the fragments of the shattered shrine have been skilfully built up once more) is a structure, in two storeys, of carved timber. The lower stage is fitted with cupboards, in which were probably preserved relics, or such jewels and ornaments as were not kept permanently upon the shrine. A doorway in this storey admits to a staircase leading to the gallery above. This is the watchers’ chamber; the side fronting the shrine being filled with perpendicular tracery, whence the monks in charge could easily keep the treasures around them under observation. A somewhat similar structure is still seen at Christ Church, Oxford, and is sometimes spoken of as the shrine of S. Frideswide. It is really the watching-chamber for that shrine; and was erected in the fourteenth century upon an ancient tomb, supposed to be that of the founder of theferetrumof the saint, though popular report describes it as the resting-place of the bodies of her parents.

In not a few cases, both in England and abroad, these chambers were built in a yet more durable fashion. At Bourges may be seen a stone loft on the left side of the altar; at[p158]Nuremberg also is one. In addition to the wooden chamber, already described, S. Alban’s Abbey (now the cathedral) has a small one of stone in the transept. Lichfield has a gallery over the sacristy door, which served the same purpose; and at Worcester an oriel was probably used by the watchers. Westminster Abbey has such a chamber over the chantry of King Henry VI., and Worcester Cathedral has one in the north aisle; and there are several other instances. Many churches had rooms over the north porch, as the cathedrals of Exeter and Hereford, the churches of Christchurch (Hampshire), Alford (Lincolnshire), and many others; and these in some cases, as at Boston, had openings commanding a view of the interior.

Another explanation of the existence of a few watching lofts is sometimes given, besides the need of guarding the Church’s treasures. It is held by some that in the face of the deterioration of monastic simplicity and devotion in the later times before the Dissolution in England, the abbots felt the need of keeping a stricter eye upon their community; and these rooms were consequently constructed to enable them to[p159]look, unobserved themselves, into their abbey church, and to see that all whose duty called for their presence were there, and properly occupied. This theory is perhaps supported by the traditional name of “the abbot’s pew,” by which a very simple and substantial watching-chamber in the triforium of Malmesbury Abbey is called. With this may be compared another example in the priory church of S. Bartholomew, Smithfield. In these, and most of the other instances, the watching-chamber is an addition to the original structure, dating often considerably later than the rest. This is quoted by the believers in the rapid spread of monastic depravity in later ages in support of the theory just noticed; as is also the fact, that the “pew” is often near what formerly constituted the abbot’s private apartments within the adjoining monastery. It is probable that both explanations are true; some of these lofts forming “abbot’s pews,” as others certainly were for the guardian watchers of the shrines. In a large community it would certainly be wise for the head to be able at times to survey quietly and unobserved the actions of the rest; but this admission no more implies that the lives of all[p160]monks were scandalous, than does the presence of watchers by the shrines prove that all worshippers were thieves.

We have noticed in this paper the chief watching-chambers in this country, but no doubt other examples occur which may have special points of interest.

[p161]Church Chests.By the Rev. Geo. S. Tyack,B.A.Aninteresting article of Church furniture which has scarcely received the amount of notice which it deserves, is the Church Chest, the receptacle for the registers and records of the parish, and sometimes also for the office books, vestments, and other valuables belonging to the Church. In recent years attention has frequently been directed to the interesting character of our ancient parochial documents, but the useful cases which for so many years have shielded them, more or less securely, from damage or loss, have been largely overlooked.The present authority for the provision in every English church of a proper repository for its records is the seventieth canon, the latter part of which runs in the following words, from which it will be seen that some of its details have been suffered to become obsolete: “For the safe keeping of the said book (the register of baptisms, weddings, and burials), the churchwardens, at the charge of the parish, shall[p162]provide one sure coffer, and three locks and keys; whereof one to remain with the minister, and the other two with the churchwardens severally; so that neither the minister without the two churchwardens, nor the churchwardens without the minister, shall at any time take that book out of the said coffer. And henceforth upon every Sabbath day immediately after morning or evening prayer, the minister and the churchwardens shall take the said parchment book out of the said coffer, and the minister in the presence of the churchwardens shall write and record in the said book the names of all persons christened, together with the names and surnames of their parents, and also the names of all persons married and buried in that parish in the week before, and the day and year of every such christening, marriage, and burial; and that done, they shall lay up the book in the coffer as before.” This Canon, made with others in 1603, was a natural sequence to the Act passed in 1538, which enjoined the due keeping of parish registers of the kind above described. It is, in fact, obvious that the canon only gave additional sanction to a practice enforced some years earlier; for Grindal, in his “Metropolitical[p163]Visitation of the Province of York in 1571,” uses almost identical terms, requiring, amongst many other things, “That the churchwardens in every parish shall, at the costs and charges of the parish, provide ... a sure coffer with two locks and keys for keeping the register book, and a strong chest or box for the almose of the poor, with three locks and keys to the same:” the same demand was made, also by Grindal, on the province of Canterbury in 1576.Church chests did not, however, come into use in consequence of the introduction of the regular keeping of registers. The Synod of Exeter, held in 1287, ordered that every parish should provide “a chest for the books and the vestments,” and the convenience and even necessity of some such article of furniture, doubtless led to its use in many places from yet earlier times.We have in England several excellent examples of “hutches,” or chests, which date from the thirteenth, or even from the close of the twelfth century. Some there are for which a much earlier date has been claimed. These latter are rough coffers formed usually of a single log of wood, hollowed out, and fitted with a massive[p164]lid, the whole being bound with iron bands.Chests of this kind may be seen at Newdigate,Surrey, at Hales Owen, Shropshire, and elsewhere; and on the strength of the rudeness of the carpentry displayed, it has been asserted that they are of Norman, or even of Saxon, workmanship. Roughness of design and work are scarcely, however, in themselves sufficient evidence of great antiquity; many local causes, especially in small country places, may have led the priests and people to be content with a very rude article of home manufacture, at a time when far more elaborate ones were procurable in return for a little more enterprise or considerably more money. The date of these rough coffers must therefore be considered doubtful.Of Early English chests, we have examples at Clymping, Sussex, at Saltwood and Graveney, Kent, at Earl Stonham, Suffolk, at Stoke D’Abernon, Surrey, and at Newport, Essex. The Decorated Period is represented by chests at Brancepeth, Durham, at Huttoft and Haconby, Lincolnshire, at Faversham and Withersham, Kent, and at S. Mary Magdalene’s, Oxford. The workmanship of the Perpendicular Period has numerous illustrations among our church[p165]chests, such as those at S. Michael’s, Coventry, S. Mary’s, Cambridge, the Chapter House of Christchurch Cathedral, Oxford, and others at Frettenham, Norfolk, at Guestling, Sussex, at Harty Chapel, Kent, at Southwold, Suffolk, and at Stonham Aspel, Suffolk.CHEST AT SALTWOOD, KENT.In the making of all these coffers, strength was naturally the great characteristic which was most obviously aimed at; strength of structure, so as to secure durability, and strength of locks and bolts, so as to ensure the contents from theft. But in addition to this, artistic beauty was not lost sight of, and many chests are excellent illustrations of the wood-carvers’ taste and skill, and several were originally enriched with colour.[p167]CHEST AT UPTON CHURCH.CHEST AT OVER, CHESHIRE.[p166]A good example of those in which security has been almost exclusively sought, is provided by a chest at S. Peter’s, Upton, Northamptonshire. The dimensions of this hutch are six feet three inches in length, two feet six inches in height, and two feet in width. Its only adornment is provided by the wrought iron bands which are attached to it. Four of these are laid laterally across each end, and four more, running perpendicularly, divide the front into five unequal panels; the bands on the front correspond with an equal number laid across the lid, where, however, two more are placed at the extreme ends. Each of the panels in front and top is filled with a device in beaten iron roughly resembling an eight-pointed star, the lowest point of which runs to the bottom of the chest. Yet simpler is the chest at S. Mary’s, West Horsley, which is a long, narrow, oaken box, strengthened by flat iron bands crossing the ends and doubled well round the front and back, while six others are fastened perpendicularly to the front; there are two large locks, and three hinges terminating in long strips of iron running almost the complete breadth of the lid. The church of S. Botolph, Church Brampton, has[p169]a chest equally plain in itself, but the iron bands are in this case of a richer character. Elegant scroll-work originally covered the front and ends, much still remaining to this day. S. Lawrence’s, in the Isle of Thanet, possesses an exceedingly rough example, with a curved top; seven broad iron bands strengthen the lid, and several perpendicular ones, crossed by a lateral one, are affixed to the front, the whole being studded with large square-headed nails; a huge lock is placed in the middle, with hasps for padlocks to the right and left of it. It is raised slightly from the ground by wooden “feet.”CHEST AT S. LAWRENCE, ISLE OF THANET.[p170]For security and strength, however, the palm must be awarded to a coffer at Stonham Aspel. The following description of this remarkable chest was given in the “Journal of the British Archæological Society” in September, 1872: “This curious example is of chestnut wood, 8 feet in length, 2 feet 3 inches in height, and 2 feet 7 inches from front to back; and is entirely covered on the outer surface with sheets of iron 4½ inches in width, the joinings being hid by straps. The two lids are secured by fourteen hasps; the second from the left locks the first, and the hasp simply covers the keyhole; the fourth locks the third, etc. After this process is finished, a bar from each angle passes over them, and is secured by a curious lock in the centre, which fastens them both. The interior of this gigantic chest is divided into two equal compartments by a central partition of wood, the one to the left being painted red; the other is plain. Each division can be opened separately; the rector holding four of the keys, and the churchwardens the others, all being of different patterns.” The writer of this description (Mr. H. Syer Cuming,F.S.A., Scot.,V.P.) assigns the chest to the fifteenth century.[p171]CHURCH CHEST, S. MICHAEL’S, COVENTRY.[p173]Turning now to those chests, whose makers, while not forgetting the needful solidity and strength, aimed also at greater decoration, the handsome hutch at S. Michael’s, Coventry, claims our notice. The front of this is carved with a double row of panels having traceried heads, the upper row being half the width of the lower one. In the centre are two crowned figures, popularly (and not improbably) described as Leofric and his wife, the Lady Godiva. At each end of the front is a long panel decorated with lozenges enclosing Tudor roses, foliage, and conventional animals; while two dragons adorn the bottom, which is cut away so as to leave a triangular space beneath the chest. At S. John’s, Glastonbury, is another fine example, measuring six feet two inches in length, and at present lidless. Within six vesica-shaped panels are placed quatrefoil ornaments, each divided by a horizontal bar. Above these are five shields, three charged with S. George’s Cross, and the others, one with three lozenges in fess, and the other with three roundles, two and one, and a label. The ends, or legs, are elaborately carved with dog-tooth figures in squares and circles. Saltwood, Kent, has an ornately carved chest,[p174]divided (like that of Stonham Aspel) into two parts, the lid being correspondingly formed, and opening in sections. One half is secured by three locks, and the other by one. The front is carved with five geometrical “windows” of four lights each; and the ends of the front have three carved square panels, divided by bands of dancette ornament. The base has a long narrow panel, with a simple wavy design. There is some bold carving on a chest at S. George’s, South Acre, in Norfolk; a row of cusped arches fills rather more than half the height of the front, the rest being taken up with four panels containing roses and stars, similar designs on a smaller scale being repeated at the ends. The front is cut away at the bottom in a series of curves.[p175]CHURCH CHEST S. JOHN’S GLASTONBURYAt Alnwick is a massive coffer, over seven feet long, bearing on its front a number of figures of dragons, and heads of birds and beasts, amid foliage; above which are two hunting scenes, in which appear men with horns, dogs, and deer, amid trees. These two scenes are separated by the lock, and are precisely alike, save that the quarry in one is a stag, and a hind in the other. Empingham, near Stamford, has a fine chest of cedar wood, adorned with incised figures. At[p177]S. Mary’s, Mortlake, is one of walnut, inlaid with boxwood and ebony, and ornamented with designs in metal work; the under side of the lid has some delicate iron-wrought tracery, which was originally set off with red velvet. The Huttoft chest is enriched with traceried arches, which were apparently at one time picked out in colour; that of Stoke D’Abernon is raised on four substantial legs, and is decorated with three circles on the front filled with a kind of tracery; there are other interesting specimens at Winchester and at Ewerby. In the old castle at Newcastle-on-Tyne is preserved an old church coffer, which was probably removed there for safety during the troublous days of the Civil War. At Harty Chapel, Kent, we find the figures of two knights in full armour, tilting at each other, carved on the front of a chest; the legend of S. George and the dragon is illustrated in a similar way at Southwold Church, Suffolk, and yet more fully on a chest in the treasury of York Minster.Probably, however, the handsomest example of a carved church chest now preserved in England is at Brancepeth, in the county of Durham. This beautiful piece of work, which[p178]rests in the south chapel of the church, has its front completely covered with elaborate carving. At either end are three oblong panels, one above another, on each of which is a conventional bird or beast; at the base is a series of diamonds filled, as are the intervals between them, with tracery; and above this is an arcade of six pointed arches, each enclosing three lights surmounted by a circle, the six being divided by tall lancets, the crockets of the arches and a wealth of foliage filling up the intervening spaces. This fine chest dates from the fourteenth century.The Rev. Francis E. Powell,M.A., in his pleasantly-written work entitled “The Story of a Cheshire Parish,” gives particulars of the parish chest of Over. “The chest,” says Mr. Powell, was “the gift of Bishop Samuel Peploe to Joseph Maddock, Clerk, April 30th, 1750.” It probably was an old chest even then. The donor was Bishop of Chester from 1726 to 1752. He was a Whig in politics, and a latitudinarian in religion, as so many bishops of that time were. That he was a man of determined courage may be seen by his loyalty to the House of Hanover, even under adverse[p179]circumstances. One day, in the year 1715, he was reading Morning Prayer at the parish church at Preston. The town was occupied by Jacobite troops, some of whom burst into the church during the service. Approaching the prayer-desk, with drawn sword, a trooper demanded that Peploe should substitute James for George in the prayer for the King’s Majesty. Peploe merely paused to say, “Soldier, I am doing my duty; do you do yours;” and went on with the prayers, whereupon the soldiers at once proceeded to eject him from the church. The illustration of the chest is kindly lent to us by the Rev. Francis E. Powell, vicar of Over.In the vestry of Lambeth Palace is a curiously painted chest; several of an early date are preserved in the triforium of Westminster Abbey; there is one at Salisbury Cathedral, and another in the Record Office, having been removed from the Pix Chapel.One of the original uses of these coffers, as we have seen, was to preserve the vestments of the church. The copes, however, being larger than the other vestments, and in the cathedrals and other important churches, being very numerous, frequently had a special receptacle provided.[p180]At York, Salisbury, Westminster, and Gloucester, ancient cope-chests are still preserved. These are triangular in shape, the cope being most easily folded into that form.In not a few instances these large coffers, or sections of them, were used as alms boxes, for which a very ancient precedent can be found. At the restoration of the Jewish Temple under King Joash, we are told (2 Kings xii., 9, 10) that “Jehoiada the priest took a chest, and bored a hole in the lid of it, and set it beside the altar, on the right side as one cometh into the house of the Lord: and the priests that kept the door put therein all the money that was brought into the house of the Lord: and it was so, when they saw that there was much money in the chest, that the King’s scribe and the high priest came up, and they put up in bags, and told the money that was found in the house of the Lord.”At Llanaber, near Barmouth in North Wales, is a chest hewn from a single block of wood, and pierced to receive coins. At Hatfield, Yorkshire, is an ancient example of a similar kind; and others may be seen at S. Peter’s-in-the-East, Oxford, at Drayton in Berkshire, at Meare[p181]Church, Somersetshire, at Irchester and Mears Ashby, in Northamptonshire, at Hartland, in Devonshire, and in the Isle of Wight at Carisbrooke. An interesting chest, with provision for the reception of alms, is preserved at Combs Church, Suffolk, where there is also another plain hutch, iron-bound and treble-locked. The chest in question is strongly, but simply, made, the front being divided into four plain panels, with some very slight attempt at decoration in the form of small disks and diamonds along the top; and the lid being quite flat and plain, and secured by two locks. At one end, however, a long slit has been cut in this lid, and beneath it is a till, or trough, to receive the money, very similar to the little locker often inserted at one end of an old oak chest intended for domestic use, save that in this case the compartment has, of course, no second lid of its own. This chest has the date 1599 carved upon it, but is supposed to be some half a century older, the date perhaps marking the time of some repairs or alterations made in it.Hutches of the kind that we have been considering are not peculiar to England, some fine and well-preserved examples being found in[p182]several of the ancient churches in France. Among ourselves it is obvious that great numbers must have disappeared; many doubtless were rough and scarcely worthy of long preservation; others by the very beauty of their workmanship probably roused the cupidity, or the iconoclastic prejudice, of the spoiler. Near Brinkburn Priory a handsome fourteenth century chest was found, used for domestic purposes, in a neighbouring farm-house; a Tudor chest, belonging to S. Mary’s, Newington, lay for years in the old rectory house, and subsequently disappeared; and these are doubtless typical of many another case. When the strictness at first enforced as to the care of the parish registers became culpably relaxed, and parish clerks and sextons were left in practically sole charge of them, it is but too probable that these men, often illiterate and otherwise unsuited to such a trust, were in many instances as careless, or as criminal, in regard to the coffers, as we unfortunately know they frequently were with respect to their contents.Few church chests of any interest date from the Jacobean, or any subsequent period. Plain deal boxes were then held good enough for the purpose of a “church hutch.”

By the Rev. Geo. S. Tyack,B.A.

Aninteresting article of Church furniture which has scarcely received the amount of notice which it deserves, is the Church Chest, the receptacle for the registers and records of the parish, and sometimes also for the office books, vestments, and other valuables belonging to the Church. In recent years attention has frequently been directed to the interesting character of our ancient parochial documents, but the useful cases which for so many years have shielded them, more or less securely, from damage or loss, have been largely overlooked.

The present authority for the provision in every English church of a proper repository for its records is the seventieth canon, the latter part of which runs in the following words, from which it will be seen that some of its details have been suffered to become obsolete: “For the safe keeping of the said book (the register of baptisms, weddings, and burials), the churchwardens, at the charge of the parish, shall[p162]provide one sure coffer, and three locks and keys; whereof one to remain with the minister, and the other two with the churchwardens severally; so that neither the minister without the two churchwardens, nor the churchwardens without the minister, shall at any time take that book out of the said coffer. And henceforth upon every Sabbath day immediately after morning or evening prayer, the minister and the churchwardens shall take the said parchment book out of the said coffer, and the minister in the presence of the churchwardens shall write and record in the said book the names of all persons christened, together with the names and surnames of their parents, and also the names of all persons married and buried in that parish in the week before, and the day and year of every such christening, marriage, and burial; and that done, they shall lay up the book in the coffer as before.” This Canon, made with others in 1603, was a natural sequence to the Act passed in 1538, which enjoined the due keeping of parish registers of the kind above described. It is, in fact, obvious that the canon only gave additional sanction to a practice enforced some years earlier; for Grindal, in his “Metropolitical[p163]Visitation of the Province of York in 1571,” uses almost identical terms, requiring, amongst many other things, “That the churchwardens in every parish shall, at the costs and charges of the parish, provide ... a sure coffer with two locks and keys for keeping the register book, and a strong chest or box for the almose of the poor, with three locks and keys to the same:” the same demand was made, also by Grindal, on the province of Canterbury in 1576.

Church chests did not, however, come into use in consequence of the introduction of the regular keeping of registers. The Synod of Exeter, held in 1287, ordered that every parish should provide “a chest for the books and the vestments,” and the convenience and even necessity of some such article of furniture, doubtless led to its use in many places from yet earlier times.

We have in England several excellent examples of “hutches,” or chests, which date from the thirteenth, or even from the close of the twelfth century. Some there are for which a much earlier date has been claimed. These latter are rough coffers formed usually of a single log of wood, hollowed out, and fitted with a massive[p164]lid, the whole being bound with iron bands.Chests of this kind may be seen at Newdigate,Surrey, at Hales Owen, Shropshire, and elsewhere; and on the strength of the rudeness of the carpentry displayed, it has been asserted that they are of Norman, or even of Saxon, workmanship. Roughness of design and work are scarcely, however, in themselves sufficient evidence of great antiquity; many local causes, especially in small country places, may have led the priests and people to be content with a very rude article of home manufacture, at a time when far more elaborate ones were procurable in return for a little more enterprise or considerably more money. The date of these rough coffers must therefore be considered doubtful.

Of Early English chests, we have examples at Clymping, Sussex, at Saltwood and Graveney, Kent, at Earl Stonham, Suffolk, at Stoke D’Abernon, Surrey, and at Newport, Essex. The Decorated Period is represented by chests at Brancepeth, Durham, at Huttoft and Haconby, Lincolnshire, at Faversham and Withersham, Kent, and at S. Mary Magdalene’s, Oxford. The workmanship of the Perpendicular Period has numerous illustrations among our church[p165]chests, such as those at S. Michael’s, Coventry, S. Mary’s, Cambridge, the Chapter House of Christchurch Cathedral, Oxford, and others at Frettenham, Norfolk, at Guestling, Sussex, at Harty Chapel, Kent, at Southwold, Suffolk, and at Stonham Aspel, Suffolk.

CHEST AT SALTWOOD, KENT.

In the making of all these coffers, strength was naturally the great characteristic which was most obviously aimed at; strength of structure, so as to secure durability, and strength of locks and bolts, so as to ensure the contents from theft. But in addition to this, artistic beauty was not lost sight of, and many chests are excellent illustrations of the wood-carvers’ taste and skill, and several were originally enriched with colour.

[p167]CHEST AT UPTON CHURCH.CHEST AT OVER, CHESHIRE.

[p166]A good example of those in which security has been almost exclusively sought, is provided by a chest at S. Peter’s, Upton, Northamptonshire. The dimensions of this hutch are six feet three inches in length, two feet six inches in height, and two feet in width. Its only adornment is provided by the wrought iron bands which are attached to it. Four of these are laid laterally across each end, and four more, running perpendicularly, divide the front into five unequal panels; the bands on the front correspond with an equal number laid across the lid, where, however, two more are placed at the extreme ends. Each of the panels in front and top is filled with a device in beaten iron roughly resembling an eight-pointed star, the lowest point of which runs to the bottom of the chest. Yet simpler is the chest at S. Mary’s, West Horsley, which is a long, narrow, oaken box, strengthened by flat iron bands crossing the ends and doubled well round the front and back, while six others are fastened perpendicularly to the front; there are two large locks, and three hinges terminating in long strips of iron running almost the complete breadth of the lid. The church of S. Botolph, Church Brampton, has[p169]a chest equally plain in itself, but the iron bands are in this case of a richer character. Elegant scroll-work originally covered the front and ends, much still remaining to this day. S. Lawrence’s, in the Isle of Thanet, possesses an exceedingly rough example, with a curved top; seven broad iron bands strengthen the lid, and several perpendicular ones, crossed by a lateral one, are affixed to the front, the whole being studded with large square-headed nails; a huge lock is placed in the middle, with hasps for padlocks to the right and left of it. It is raised slightly from the ground by wooden “feet.”

CHEST AT S. LAWRENCE, ISLE OF THANET.

[p170]For security and strength, however, the palm must be awarded to a coffer at Stonham Aspel. The following description of this remarkable chest was given in the “Journal of the British Archæological Society” in September, 1872: “This curious example is of chestnut wood, 8 feet in length, 2 feet 3 inches in height, and 2 feet 7 inches from front to back; and is entirely covered on the outer surface with sheets of iron 4½ inches in width, the joinings being hid by straps. The two lids are secured by fourteen hasps; the second from the left locks the first, and the hasp simply covers the keyhole; the fourth locks the third, etc. After this process is finished, a bar from each angle passes over them, and is secured by a curious lock in the centre, which fastens them both. The interior of this gigantic chest is divided into two equal compartments by a central partition of wood, the one to the left being painted red; the other is plain. Each division can be opened separately; the rector holding four of the keys, and the churchwardens the others, all being of different patterns.” The writer of this description (Mr. H. Syer Cuming,F.S.A., Scot.,V.P.) assigns the chest to the fifteenth century.

[p171]CHURCH CHEST, S. MICHAEL’S, COVENTRY.

[p173]Turning now to those chests, whose makers, while not forgetting the needful solidity and strength, aimed also at greater decoration, the handsome hutch at S. Michael’s, Coventry, claims our notice. The front of this is carved with a double row of panels having traceried heads, the upper row being half the width of the lower one. In the centre are two crowned figures, popularly (and not improbably) described as Leofric and his wife, the Lady Godiva. At each end of the front is a long panel decorated with lozenges enclosing Tudor roses, foliage, and conventional animals; while two dragons adorn the bottom, which is cut away so as to leave a triangular space beneath the chest. At S. John’s, Glastonbury, is another fine example, measuring six feet two inches in length, and at present lidless. Within six vesica-shaped panels are placed quatrefoil ornaments, each divided by a horizontal bar. Above these are five shields, three charged with S. George’s Cross, and the others, one with three lozenges in fess, and the other with three roundles, two and one, and a label. The ends, or legs, are elaborately carved with dog-tooth figures in squares and circles. Saltwood, Kent, has an ornately carved chest,[p174]divided (like that of Stonham Aspel) into two parts, the lid being correspondingly formed, and opening in sections. One half is secured by three locks, and the other by one. The front is carved with five geometrical “windows” of four lights each; and the ends of the front have three carved square panels, divided by bands of dancette ornament. The base has a long narrow panel, with a simple wavy design. There is some bold carving on a chest at S. George’s, South Acre, in Norfolk; a row of cusped arches fills rather more than half the height of the front, the rest being taken up with four panels containing roses and stars, similar designs on a smaller scale being repeated at the ends. The front is cut away at the bottom in a series of curves.

[p175]CHURCH CHEST S. JOHN’S GLASTONBURY

At Alnwick is a massive coffer, over seven feet long, bearing on its front a number of figures of dragons, and heads of birds and beasts, amid foliage; above which are two hunting scenes, in which appear men with horns, dogs, and deer, amid trees. These two scenes are separated by the lock, and are precisely alike, save that the quarry in one is a stag, and a hind in the other. Empingham, near Stamford, has a fine chest of cedar wood, adorned with incised figures. At[p177]S. Mary’s, Mortlake, is one of walnut, inlaid with boxwood and ebony, and ornamented with designs in metal work; the under side of the lid has some delicate iron-wrought tracery, which was originally set off with red velvet. The Huttoft chest is enriched with traceried arches, which were apparently at one time picked out in colour; that of Stoke D’Abernon is raised on four substantial legs, and is decorated with three circles on the front filled with a kind of tracery; there are other interesting specimens at Winchester and at Ewerby. In the old castle at Newcastle-on-Tyne is preserved an old church coffer, which was probably removed there for safety during the troublous days of the Civil War. At Harty Chapel, Kent, we find the figures of two knights in full armour, tilting at each other, carved on the front of a chest; the legend of S. George and the dragon is illustrated in a similar way at Southwold Church, Suffolk, and yet more fully on a chest in the treasury of York Minster.

Probably, however, the handsomest example of a carved church chest now preserved in England is at Brancepeth, in the county of Durham. This beautiful piece of work, which[p178]rests in the south chapel of the church, has its front completely covered with elaborate carving. At either end are three oblong panels, one above another, on each of which is a conventional bird or beast; at the base is a series of diamonds filled, as are the intervals between them, with tracery; and above this is an arcade of six pointed arches, each enclosing three lights surmounted by a circle, the six being divided by tall lancets, the crockets of the arches and a wealth of foliage filling up the intervening spaces. This fine chest dates from the fourteenth century.

The Rev. Francis E. Powell,M.A., in his pleasantly-written work entitled “The Story of a Cheshire Parish,” gives particulars of the parish chest of Over. “The chest,” says Mr. Powell, was “the gift of Bishop Samuel Peploe to Joseph Maddock, Clerk, April 30th, 1750.” It probably was an old chest even then. The donor was Bishop of Chester from 1726 to 1752. He was a Whig in politics, and a latitudinarian in religion, as so many bishops of that time were. That he was a man of determined courage may be seen by his loyalty to the House of Hanover, even under adverse[p179]circumstances. One day, in the year 1715, he was reading Morning Prayer at the parish church at Preston. The town was occupied by Jacobite troops, some of whom burst into the church during the service. Approaching the prayer-desk, with drawn sword, a trooper demanded that Peploe should substitute James for George in the prayer for the King’s Majesty. Peploe merely paused to say, “Soldier, I am doing my duty; do you do yours;” and went on with the prayers, whereupon the soldiers at once proceeded to eject him from the church. The illustration of the chest is kindly lent to us by the Rev. Francis E. Powell, vicar of Over.

In the vestry of Lambeth Palace is a curiously painted chest; several of an early date are preserved in the triforium of Westminster Abbey; there is one at Salisbury Cathedral, and another in the Record Office, having been removed from the Pix Chapel.

One of the original uses of these coffers, as we have seen, was to preserve the vestments of the church. The copes, however, being larger than the other vestments, and in the cathedrals and other important churches, being very numerous, frequently had a special receptacle provided.[p180]At York, Salisbury, Westminster, and Gloucester, ancient cope-chests are still preserved. These are triangular in shape, the cope being most easily folded into that form.

In not a few instances these large coffers, or sections of them, were used as alms boxes, for which a very ancient precedent can be found. At the restoration of the Jewish Temple under King Joash, we are told (2 Kings xii., 9, 10) that “Jehoiada the priest took a chest, and bored a hole in the lid of it, and set it beside the altar, on the right side as one cometh into the house of the Lord: and the priests that kept the door put therein all the money that was brought into the house of the Lord: and it was so, when they saw that there was much money in the chest, that the King’s scribe and the high priest came up, and they put up in bags, and told the money that was found in the house of the Lord.”

At Llanaber, near Barmouth in North Wales, is a chest hewn from a single block of wood, and pierced to receive coins. At Hatfield, Yorkshire, is an ancient example of a similar kind; and others may be seen at S. Peter’s-in-the-East, Oxford, at Drayton in Berkshire, at Meare[p181]Church, Somersetshire, at Irchester and Mears Ashby, in Northamptonshire, at Hartland, in Devonshire, and in the Isle of Wight at Carisbrooke. An interesting chest, with provision for the reception of alms, is preserved at Combs Church, Suffolk, where there is also another plain hutch, iron-bound and treble-locked. The chest in question is strongly, but simply, made, the front being divided into four plain panels, with some very slight attempt at decoration in the form of small disks and diamonds along the top; and the lid being quite flat and plain, and secured by two locks. At one end, however, a long slit has been cut in this lid, and beneath it is a till, or trough, to receive the money, very similar to the little locker often inserted at one end of an old oak chest intended for domestic use, save that in this case the compartment has, of course, no second lid of its own. This chest has the date 1599 carved upon it, but is supposed to be some half a century older, the date perhaps marking the time of some repairs or alterations made in it.

Hutches of the kind that we have been considering are not peculiar to England, some fine and well-preserved examples being found in[p182]several of the ancient churches in France. Among ourselves it is obvious that great numbers must have disappeared; many doubtless were rough and scarcely worthy of long preservation; others by the very beauty of their workmanship probably roused the cupidity, or the iconoclastic prejudice, of the spoiler. Near Brinkburn Priory a handsome fourteenth century chest was found, used for domestic purposes, in a neighbouring farm-house; a Tudor chest, belonging to S. Mary’s, Newington, lay for years in the old rectory house, and subsequently disappeared; and these are doubtless typical of many another case. When the strictness at first enforced as to the care of the parish registers became culpably relaxed, and parish clerks and sextons were left in practically sole charge of them, it is but too probable that these men, often illiterate and otherwise unsuited to such a trust, were in many instances as careless, or as criminal, in regard to the coffers, as we unfortunately know they frequently were with respect to their contents.

Few church chests of any interest date from the Jacobean, or any subsequent period. Plain deal boxes were then held good enough for the purpose of a “church hutch.”

[p183]An Antiquarian Problem: The Leper Window.By William White,F.S.A.Thesewindows were called by Parker and other writers of the Gothic Revival, “Lychnoscopes;” and then by the ecclesiologists, “Low-side Windows.” But the name given by the late G. E. Street has now become so generally accepted that it seems necessary to look a little further into the evidence of the fitness or unfitness of this designation for them.Behind some stalls in the Royal Chapel were discovered some remains of a mural painting, apparently to represent the communicating of a leper through some such window, and he at once concluded that it was for this very purpose so many of them were introduced into the chancels of our mediæval churches. There seemed, however, nothing to indicate that it was at one of these special windows at all that this function was performed. And the very fact of the representation itself would seem to indicate rather an exceptional instance, or special circumstance, such as the communicating of some knight or[p184]person of note who might, for instance, have brought leprosy in his own person from the Holy Land, from whence probably in the first instance it came; and who would not be admitted within the church. But the records of the existence of lepers would seem to show their numbers to have been very limited, and confined to few localities. And in any case this would be no sufficient cause for the introduction of these windows as of universal occurrence throughout the land, for these windows are found almost everywhere, and in very many instances on both sides of the chancel. Moreover, in many cases the act of administration through these windows would be exceedingly difficult, if not impossible, on account of the position, or the arrangement, of the window itself.To my mind a very much more practical and reasonable supposition would be that they were introduced, and used, for burial purposes. At a period when the body would not be brought into the church, except in the case of some ecclesiastic or other notable person, the priest would here be able,from his stall, to see the funeralcortégecome into the churchyard, and then say the first part of the office through this window; which was always shuttered and without[p185]glass. In some cases there is a book-ledge corbelled out on the east jamb of the window inside, which has puzzled antiquaries, but which has not otherwise received a satisfactory explanation. In immediate proximity to the window, at the end of the stalls (and sometimes in the earlier churchesthroughthem), was the priest’s door, out of which he would then proceed to the grave to commit the body to the earth. The grave itself needs not necessarily be within sight of the window. But in a number of instances the churchyard cross was so; and this may have served as the recognised place for the mourners, with the body, to assemble.In the case of Foxton, Leicestershire, the “Lych Window,” as I would call it, is on the north side. Here the burials are chiefly on the north side; a steep slope down towards the church on the south side rendering it very difficult and unsuitable for them. At Addisham, Kent, the priest’s door is, contrary to the usual custom, on the north side, where is also a principal portion of the churchyard, and, so far as my own observations go, the position of the window would greatly depend upon the arrangement of the churchyard, whether north or south.

By William White,F.S.A.

Thesewindows were called by Parker and other writers of the Gothic Revival, “Lychnoscopes;” and then by the ecclesiologists, “Low-side Windows.” But the name given by the late G. E. Street has now become so generally accepted that it seems necessary to look a little further into the evidence of the fitness or unfitness of this designation for them.

Behind some stalls in the Royal Chapel were discovered some remains of a mural painting, apparently to represent the communicating of a leper through some such window, and he at once concluded that it was for this very purpose so many of them were introduced into the chancels of our mediæval churches. There seemed, however, nothing to indicate that it was at one of these special windows at all that this function was performed. And the very fact of the representation itself would seem to indicate rather an exceptional instance, or special circumstance, such as the communicating of some knight or[p184]person of note who might, for instance, have brought leprosy in his own person from the Holy Land, from whence probably in the first instance it came; and who would not be admitted within the church. But the records of the existence of lepers would seem to show their numbers to have been very limited, and confined to few localities. And in any case this would be no sufficient cause for the introduction of these windows as of universal occurrence throughout the land, for these windows are found almost everywhere, and in very many instances on both sides of the chancel. Moreover, in many cases the act of administration through these windows would be exceedingly difficult, if not impossible, on account of the position, or the arrangement, of the window itself.

To my mind a very much more practical and reasonable supposition would be that they were introduced, and used, for burial purposes. At a period when the body would not be brought into the church, except in the case of some ecclesiastic or other notable person, the priest would here be able,from his stall, to see the funeralcortégecome into the churchyard, and then say the first part of the office through this window; which was always shuttered and without[p185]glass. In some cases there is a book-ledge corbelled out on the east jamb of the window inside, which has puzzled antiquaries, but which has not otherwise received a satisfactory explanation. In immediate proximity to the window, at the end of the stalls (and sometimes in the earlier churchesthroughthem), was the priest’s door, out of which he would then proceed to the grave to commit the body to the earth. The grave itself needs not necessarily be within sight of the window. But in a number of instances the churchyard cross was so; and this may have served as the recognised place for the mourners, with the body, to assemble.

In the case of Foxton, Leicestershire, the “Lych Window,” as I would call it, is on the north side. Here the burials are chiefly on the north side; a steep slope down towards the church on the south side rendering it very difficult and unsuitable for them. At Addisham, Kent, the priest’s door is, contrary to the usual custom, on the north side, where is also a principal portion of the churchyard, and, so far as my own observations go, the position of the window would greatly depend upon the arrangement of the churchyard, whether north or south.

[p186]Mazes.By the Rev. Geo. S. Tyack,B.A.Somethingconcerning the construction of labyrinths, or mazes, is known even to the most general reader; it needs but a slight acquaintance with classical literature to learn of the famous example formed at Crete by Dædalus; the legend of the concealment of “fair Rosamond,” within a maze at Woodstock, is familiar enough; and the existing labyrinth at Hampton Court, the work of William III. is well known. But probably few who have not looked somewhat into the matter, have any idea of the number of such mazes which still exist, or of the yet greater number of which we have authentic records. A learned French antiquary, Mons. Bonnin, of Evreux, collected two hundred examples, gathered from many lands, and stretching in history from classical to modern times.Of the most ancient labyrinths it will be enough to indicate the localities. One is said to have been constructed in Egypt by King Minos,[p187]and to have served as a model for the one raised by Dædalus at Cnossus, in Crete, as a prison for the Minataur. Another Egyptian example, which has been noticed by several authors, was near Lake Mœris. Lemnos contained a famous labyrinth; and Lar Porsena built one at Clusium, in Etruria. These mazes consisted either of a series of connected caverns, as it has been supposed was the case in Crete; or, as in the[p188]other instances, were formed of courts enclosed by walls and colonnades.LABYRINTH INSCRIBED ON ONE OF THE PORCH PIERS OF LUCCA CATHEDRAL.The use of the labyrinth in mediæval times, has, however, greater interest for us in this paper, especially from the fact that such was distinctly ecclesiastical. Several continental churches have labyrinths, either cut in stone or inlaid in coloured marbles, figured upon their walls or elsewhere. At Lucca Cathedral is an example incised upon one of the piers of the porch; and others may be seen at Pavia, Aix in Provence, and at Poitiers. These are all small, the diameter of the Lucca labyrinth being 1 foot 7½ inches, which is the dimension also of one in an ancient pavement in the church of S. Maria in Aquiro, in Rome. That the suggestion for the construction of these arose from the mythological legends concerning those of pagan days is proved by the fact that in several of them the figures of Theseus and the Minataurwere placed in the centre. Probably from the first, the Church, in her use of the figure, spiritualized the meaning of the heathen story, as we know was her wont in other cases; and a labyrinth formed in mosaic on the floor of an ancient basilica at Orleansville, Algeria, shows[p189]that presently the mythological symbols gave place entirely to obviously Christian ones. In this last-named instance, the centre is occupied by the wordsSancta Ecclesia.About the twelfth century these curious figures became very popular, and a considerable number dating from that period still exist. They have for the most part been constructed in parti-coloured marbles on some portion of the floor of the church. One was laid down in 1189 at S. Maria in Trastevere, in Rome; S. Vitale, Ravenna, contains another; and the parish church of S. Quentin has a third. Others formerly existed at Amiens Cathedral (made in 1288 and destroyed in 1825), at Rheims (made about 1240 and destroyed in 1779), and at Arras (destroyed at the Revolution). These are much larger than the examples before noticed; the two Italian examples are each about 11 feet across, but the French ones greatly exceed this. Those of S. Quentin and Arras were each over 34 feet in diameter, and the others were somewhat larger; Amiens possessed the largest, measuring 42 feet. France had another example of a similar kind at Chartres.The Christian meaning which was read into[p190]these complicated designs was more emphatically expressed in these twelfth-century instances. The centre is usually occupied by a cross, round which, in some cases, were arranged figures of bishops, angels, and others.The introduction of these large labyrinths, together with the name which came at this time to be applied to them in France, namely,Chemins de Jerusalem, suggests the new use to which such arrangements now began to be put. It is well known that in some cases substitutes for the great pilgrimage to Jerusalem were allowed to be counted as of almost equal merit. Thus the Spaniards, so long as they had not expelled the infidel from their own territory, were forbidden to join the Crusades to the Holy Land; and were permitted to substitute a journey to the shrine of S. Jago, at Compostella, for one to the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. By an extension of the same principle, especially when the zeal of Christendom for pilgrimages began to cool, easy substitutes for the more exacting devotion were found in many ways. The introduction of the Stations of the Cross is ascribed to this cause, the devout following in imagination of the footsteps of the Saviour in His last sufferings,[p191]being accounted equivalent to visiting the holy places; and somewhat similarly, the maze, or labyrinth, is said to have been pressed into the service of religion, the following out (probably upon the knees) of its long and tortuous path- way, being reckoned as a simple substitute for a longer pilgrimage.From such a use as this, it was no great step to the employment of the maze as a means of penance in other cases. The whole of the intricate pathway was intended to remind the penitent of the difficulties which beset the Christian course; and the centre, which could only be reached by surmounting them, was often called heaven (Ciel). Nor could such a penance be deemed a light one. Though occupying so small a space of ground, the mazy path was so involved as to reach a considerable length, whence it was sometimes named the League (La lièue). The pathway at Chartres measures 668 feet; at Sens was a maze which required some 2,000 steps to gain the centre. An hour is said to have been often needed to accomplish the journey, due allowance being made for the prayers which had to be recited at certain fixed stations of it, or throughout its whole course.[p192]At S. Omer are one or two examples of the labyrinth. One at the Church of Notre Dame has figures of towns, mountains, rivers, and wild beasts depicted along the pathway, to give, no doubt, greater realism to the pilgrimage. The existing drawing of another, which has been destroyed, is inscribed, “The way of the road to Jerusalem at one time marked on the floor of the Church of S. Bertin.” Many of these designs are not only ingenious, but beautiful. In the Chapterhouse at Bayeux is one enriched with heraldic figures; that at Chartres has its central circle relieved with six cusps, while an engrailed border encloses the whole work. A circular shape was apparently the most popular; the maze at S. Quentin, with some others, however, is octagonal. The pathway is usually marked by coloured marbles, sometimes the darker, sometimes the lighter shades in the design being used for the purpose; at Sens, lead has been employed to indicate it.The Revolution, as we have seen, led to the destruction of several ecclesiastical labyrinths; some, however, became a source of annoyance to the worshippers, from children attempting to trace the true pathway during the time of[p193]service, and they were removed in consequence. Labyrinths of this kind do not appear to have been introduced into England, the only instance known to the present writer being quite a modern one. This is in the church porch at Alkborough, in Lincolnshire, where, at the recent restoration, the design of a local maze (to be noticed further hereafter) was reproduced.If England, however, has not imitated the continent in this respect, she has struck out a line no less interesting, which has remained almost exclusively her own; namely, in the mazes cut in the green turf of her meadows. Shakespeare has an allusion to these in the “Midsummer Night’s Dream,” (Act iii., 3) where Titania says,“The nine men’s morris is fill’d up with mud,And the quaint mazes in the wanton greenFor lack of tread are indistinguishable.”Some twenty of these rustic labyrinths have been noted as still existing, or as recorded by a sound tradition, in England; and no doubt there have been others which have disappeared, leaving no trace behind.MAZE AT ALKBOROUGH, LINCOLNSHIRE.Among those which have been preserved, the following may be noticed. At Alkborough, in[p194]Lincolnshire, near the confluence of the Trent and the Ouse, is a maze, the diameter of which is 44 feet; by a happy suggestion, the design of this has been repeated, as was above remarked, in the porch of the Parish Church, so that should the original unfortunately be destroyed, a permanent record has been provided. Hilton, in Huntingdonshire has a maze of exactly the[p195]same plan, in the centre of which is a stone pillar, bearing an inscription in Latin and English, to the effect that the work was constructed in 1660, by William Sparrow. Comberton, in Cambridgeshire, possesses a maze, locally known as the “Mazles,” which is fifty feet in diameter. The pathway is two feet wide, and is defined by small trenches, the whole surface being gradually hollowed towards[p196]the centre. Northamptonshire is represented by Boughton Green, which has a labyrinth 37 feet in diameter; and Rutland has one at Wing, which measures 40 feet.THE MIZE-MAZE ON ST. KATHERINE’S HILL, WINCHESTER.At Asenby, in the parish of Topcliffe, Yorkshire, is a maze measuring 51 feet across, which has been carefully preserved by the local authorities. At Chilcombe, near Winchester, a maze is cut in the turf of S. Catherine’s Hill; it is square in outline, each side being 86 feet. It is locally known as the “Mize-maze.” One much larger than any yet noticed is found near Saffron Waldon, in Essex, its diameter being 110 feet. There are local records which prove the great antiquity of a maze at this place. The design is peculiar, being properly a circle, save that at four equal distances along the circumference the pathway sweeps out into a horseshoe projection.[p197]THE MAZE NEAR ST. ANNE’S CHAPEL, NOTTINGHAM.A similar plan was followed in cutting a maze, once of some celebrity, near S. Anne’s Well, at Sneinton, Nottingham. The projections in this case are bolder, and within the spaces enclosed by the triple pathway which swept around them were cut cross-crosslets. The popular names for this maze in the district were the “Shepherd’s[p199]Maze,” and “Robin Hood’s Race.” This was, unfortunately, ploughed up in 1797, at the enclosure of the lordship of Sneinton. Nottinghamshire has, however, another example in the small square one at Clifton.MAZE FORMERLY EXISTING NEAR ST. ANNE’S WELL, SNEINTON, NOTTINGHAMSHIRE.Many of these turf-cut labyrinths were destroyed during the Commonwealth, before which[p200]period, according to Aubrey in his history of Surrey, there were many in England. Not a few, however, which survived that time of wanton destruction, have been obliterated since.In 1827 one which was on Ripon Common was ploughed up. Its diameter was 60 feet. Another existed till comparatively recent times at Hillbury, between Farnham and Guildford. At Pimpern, in Dorset, there was formerly a maze of a unique design. The outline was roughly a triangle, which enclosed nearly an acre of ground; the pathway was marked out by ridges of earth about a foot in height, and followed a singularly intricate course. The plough destroyed this also in 1730.The names locally applied to these structures often imply very erroneous ideas as to their origin and purpose. In some instances they are ascribed to the shepherds, as if cut by them as pastime in their idle moments; a suggestion, which a glance at the mazes themselves, with their intricate designs and correctly formed curves, will prove to be hardly tenable. Two other names of frequent occurrence in England are “Troy Town,” and “Julian’s Bower”; the latter being connected with the former, Julius,[p201]son of Æneas being the person alluded to. Some have from these titles sought to trace a connection with a very ancient sport known as theTroy Game, which arose in classic times, and survived down to the Middle Ages. It consisted probably in the rhythmicperformance of certain evolutions, much after the fashion of the “Musical Rides” executed by our cavalry. The origin of the idea is to be sought in a passage in Virgil’s Æneid (Bk. V., v. 583et seq.), which has been thus translated byKennett:—“Files facing files their bold companions dare,And wheel, and charge, and urge the sportive war.Now flight they feign, and naked backs expose,Now with turned spears drive headlong on the foes,And now, confederate grown, in peaceful ranks they close.As Crete’s fam’d labyrinth, to a thousand waysAnd endless darken’d walls the guest conveys;Endless, inextricable rounds amuse,And no kind track the doubtful passage shows;So the glad Trojan youth, the winding courseSporting pursue, and charge the rival force.”Tresco, Scilly, has a maze known as Troy-town; and it would seem that such were once common in Cornwall, since any intricate arrangement is often locally called by that name.It has, however, been pointed out that[p202]most of these mazes date from a time when classical knowledge was not widely spread in England; that, in fact, the name has probably been given in most instances long after the date of the construction of the work.It would seem rather that the original use of these quaint figures was, as with those continental examples before noted, ecclesiastical. No one who has had the opportunity of comparing the designs of the English and the foreign mazes can fail to be struck with the great similarity between them; suggesting, at least, a common origin and purpose. And this suggestion is greatly strengthened when we notice that, although the English mazes are never (with one modern instance only excepted) within churches, as are the continental instances, yet they are almost invariably close to a church, or the ancient site of a church. The Alkborough and Wing mazes, for instance, are hard by the parish churches; and those at Sneinton, Winchester, and Boughton Green are beside spots once consecrated by chapels dedicated in honour of St. Anne, St. Catherine, and St. John. The most probable conjecture is that these were originally formed, and for long years were used,[p203]for purposes of devotion and penance. Doubtless in later times the children often trod those mazy ways in sport and emulation, which had been slowly measured countless times before in silent meditation or in penitential tears.A word or two may be added in conclusion on mazes of the more modern sort, formed for amusement rather than for use, as a curious feature in a scheme of landscape gardening. Thesetopiarymazes, as they are called, usually have their paths defined by walls of well-cut box, yew, or other suitable shrubs; and they differ from the turf mazes in that they are often made purposely puzzling and misleading. In the ecclesiastical maze, it is always the patience, not the ingenuity, which is tested; there is but one road to follow, and though that one wanders in and out with tantalizing curves and coils, yet it leads him who follows it unerringly to the centre.From Tudor times this form of decoration for a large garden has been more or less popular. Burleigh formed one at the old palace at Theobald’s, Hertfordshire, about 1560; and the Maze in Southwark, near a spot once occupied by the residence of Queen Mary before coming[p204]to the throne, and Maze Hill at Greenwich, no doubt mark the sites of labyrinths now otherwise forgotten. Lord Fauconbergh had a maze at Sutton Court in 1691; and William III. so highly approved of them that, having left one behind him at the Palace of the Loo, he had another constructed at Hampton Court.Literature and art have not disdained to interest themselves in this somewhat formal method of gardening; for in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries more than one treatise on their construction was published; while Holbein and Tintoretto have left behind them designs for topiary labyrinths.The oldest and most famous maze in our history is “Fair Rosamond’s Bower,” already mentioned. Of what kind this was, if indeed it was at all, it is difficult to say; authorities disagreeing as to whether it was a matter of architectural arrangement, of connected caves, or of some other kind. The trend of modern historical criticism in this, as in so many other romantic stories from our annals, is to deny its genuineness altogether.Fortunately although so many of our ancient mazes have disappeared, the designs of their[p205]construction has, in not a few cases, been preserved to us by means of contemporary drawings; so that a fairly accurate idea of the type most commonly followed may still be obtained.We have to thank Mr. J. Potter Briscoe,F.R.H.S., editor of “Old Nottinghamshire,” for kindly placing at our disposal the two illustrations relating to the St. Anne’s Well Maze.

By the Rev. Geo. S. Tyack,B.A.

Somethingconcerning the construction of labyrinths, or mazes, is known even to the most general reader; it needs but a slight acquaintance with classical literature to learn of the famous example formed at Crete by Dædalus; the legend of the concealment of “fair Rosamond,” within a maze at Woodstock, is familiar enough; and the existing labyrinth at Hampton Court, the work of William III. is well known. But probably few who have not looked somewhat into the matter, have any idea of the number of such mazes which still exist, or of the yet greater number of which we have authentic records. A learned French antiquary, Mons. Bonnin, of Evreux, collected two hundred examples, gathered from many lands, and stretching in history from classical to modern times.

Of the most ancient labyrinths it will be enough to indicate the localities. One is said to have been constructed in Egypt by King Minos,[p187]and to have served as a model for the one raised by Dædalus at Cnossus, in Crete, as a prison for the Minataur. Another Egyptian example, which has been noticed by several authors, was near Lake Mœris. Lemnos contained a famous labyrinth; and Lar Porsena built one at Clusium, in Etruria. These mazes consisted either of a series of connected caverns, as it has been supposed was the case in Crete; or, as in the[p188]other instances, were formed of courts enclosed by walls and colonnades.

LABYRINTH INSCRIBED ON ONE OF THE PORCH PIERS OF LUCCA CATHEDRAL.

The use of the labyrinth in mediæval times, has, however, greater interest for us in this paper, especially from the fact that such was distinctly ecclesiastical. Several continental churches have labyrinths, either cut in stone or inlaid in coloured marbles, figured upon their walls or elsewhere. At Lucca Cathedral is an example incised upon one of the piers of the porch; and others may be seen at Pavia, Aix in Provence, and at Poitiers. These are all small, the diameter of the Lucca labyrinth being 1 foot 7½ inches, which is the dimension also of one in an ancient pavement in the church of S. Maria in Aquiro, in Rome. That the suggestion for the construction of these arose from the mythological legends concerning those of pagan days is proved by the fact that in several of them the figures of Theseus and the Minataurwere placed in the centre. Probably from the first, the Church, in her use of the figure, spiritualized the meaning of the heathen story, as we know was her wont in other cases; and a labyrinth formed in mosaic on the floor of an ancient basilica at Orleansville, Algeria, shows[p189]that presently the mythological symbols gave place entirely to obviously Christian ones. In this last-named instance, the centre is occupied by the wordsSancta Ecclesia.

About the twelfth century these curious figures became very popular, and a considerable number dating from that period still exist. They have for the most part been constructed in parti-coloured marbles on some portion of the floor of the church. One was laid down in 1189 at S. Maria in Trastevere, in Rome; S. Vitale, Ravenna, contains another; and the parish church of S. Quentin has a third. Others formerly existed at Amiens Cathedral (made in 1288 and destroyed in 1825), at Rheims (made about 1240 and destroyed in 1779), and at Arras (destroyed at the Revolution). These are much larger than the examples before noticed; the two Italian examples are each about 11 feet across, but the French ones greatly exceed this. Those of S. Quentin and Arras were each over 34 feet in diameter, and the others were somewhat larger; Amiens possessed the largest, measuring 42 feet. France had another example of a similar kind at Chartres.

The Christian meaning which was read into[p190]these complicated designs was more emphatically expressed in these twelfth-century instances. The centre is usually occupied by a cross, round which, in some cases, were arranged figures of bishops, angels, and others.

The introduction of these large labyrinths, together with the name which came at this time to be applied to them in France, namely,Chemins de Jerusalem, suggests the new use to which such arrangements now began to be put. It is well known that in some cases substitutes for the great pilgrimage to Jerusalem were allowed to be counted as of almost equal merit. Thus the Spaniards, so long as they had not expelled the infidel from their own territory, were forbidden to join the Crusades to the Holy Land; and were permitted to substitute a journey to the shrine of S. Jago, at Compostella, for one to the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. By an extension of the same principle, especially when the zeal of Christendom for pilgrimages began to cool, easy substitutes for the more exacting devotion were found in many ways. The introduction of the Stations of the Cross is ascribed to this cause, the devout following in imagination of the footsteps of the Saviour in His last sufferings,[p191]being accounted equivalent to visiting the holy places; and somewhat similarly, the maze, or labyrinth, is said to have been pressed into the service of religion, the following out (probably upon the knees) of its long and tortuous path- way, being reckoned as a simple substitute for a longer pilgrimage.

From such a use as this, it was no great step to the employment of the maze as a means of penance in other cases. The whole of the intricate pathway was intended to remind the penitent of the difficulties which beset the Christian course; and the centre, which could only be reached by surmounting them, was often called heaven (Ciel). Nor could such a penance be deemed a light one. Though occupying so small a space of ground, the mazy path was so involved as to reach a considerable length, whence it was sometimes named the League (La lièue). The pathway at Chartres measures 668 feet; at Sens was a maze which required some 2,000 steps to gain the centre. An hour is said to have been often needed to accomplish the journey, due allowance being made for the prayers which had to be recited at certain fixed stations of it, or throughout its whole course.

[p192]At S. Omer are one or two examples of the labyrinth. One at the Church of Notre Dame has figures of towns, mountains, rivers, and wild beasts depicted along the pathway, to give, no doubt, greater realism to the pilgrimage. The existing drawing of another, which has been destroyed, is inscribed, “The way of the road to Jerusalem at one time marked on the floor of the Church of S. Bertin.” Many of these designs are not only ingenious, but beautiful. In the Chapterhouse at Bayeux is one enriched with heraldic figures; that at Chartres has its central circle relieved with six cusps, while an engrailed border encloses the whole work. A circular shape was apparently the most popular; the maze at S. Quentin, with some others, however, is octagonal. The pathway is usually marked by coloured marbles, sometimes the darker, sometimes the lighter shades in the design being used for the purpose; at Sens, lead has been employed to indicate it.

The Revolution, as we have seen, led to the destruction of several ecclesiastical labyrinths; some, however, became a source of annoyance to the worshippers, from children attempting to trace the true pathway during the time of[p193]service, and they were removed in consequence. Labyrinths of this kind do not appear to have been introduced into England, the only instance known to the present writer being quite a modern one. This is in the church porch at Alkborough, in Lincolnshire, where, at the recent restoration, the design of a local maze (to be noticed further hereafter) was reproduced.

If England, however, has not imitated the continent in this respect, she has struck out a line no less interesting, which has remained almost exclusively her own; namely, in the mazes cut in the green turf of her meadows. Shakespeare has an allusion to these in the “Midsummer Night’s Dream,” (Act iii., 3) where Titania says,

“The nine men’s morris is fill’d up with mud,And the quaint mazes in the wanton greenFor lack of tread are indistinguishable.”

“The nine men’s morris is fill’d up with mud,And the quaint mazes in the wanton greenFor lack of tread are indistinguishable.”

“The nine men’s morris is fill’d up with mud,

And the quaint mazes in the wanton green

For lack of tread are indistinguishable.”

Some twenty of these rustic labyrinths have been noted as still existing, or as recorded by a sound tradition, in England; and no doubt there have been others which have disappeared, leaving no trace behind.

MAZE AT ALKBOROUGH, LINCOLNSHIRE.

Among those which have been preserved, the following may be noticed. At Alkborough, in[p194]Lincolnshire, near the confluence of the Trent and the Ouse, is a maze, the diameter of which is 44 feet; by a happy suggestion, the design of this has been repeated, as was above remarked, in the porch of the Parish Church, so that should the original unfortunately be destroyed, a permanent record has been provided. Hilton, in Huntingdonshire has a maze of exactly the[p195]same plan, in the centre of which is a stone pillar, bearing an inscription in Latin and English, to the effect that the work was constructed in 1660, by William Sparrow. Comberton, in Cambridgeshire, possesses a maze, locally known as the “Mazles,” which is fifty feet in diameter. The pathway is two feet wide, and is defined by small trenches, the whole surface being gradually hollowed towards[p196]the centre. Northamptonshire is represented by Boughton Green, which has a labyrinth 37 feet in diameter; and Rutland has one at Wing, which measures 40 feet.

THE MIZE-MAZE ON ST. KATHERINE’S HILL, WINCHESTER.

At Asenby, in the parish of Topcliffe, Yorkshire, is a maze measuring 51 feet across, which has been carefully preserved by the local authorities. At Chilcombe, near Winchester, a maze is cut in the turf of S. Catherine’s Hill; it is square in outline, each side being 86 feet. It is locally known as the “Mize-maze.” One much larger than any yet noticed is found near Saffron Waldon, in Essex, its diameter being 110 feet. There are local records which prove the great antiquity of a maze at this place. The design is peculiar, being properly a circle, save that at four equal distances along the circumference the pathway sweeps out into a horseshoe projection.

[p197]THE MAZE NEAR ST. ANNE’S CHAPEL, NOTTINGHAM.

A similar plan was followed in cutting a maze, once of some celebrity, near S. Anne’s Well, at Sneinton, Nottingham. The projections in this case are bolder, and within the spaces enclosed by the triple pathway which swept around them were cut cross-crosslets. The popular names for this maze in the district were the “Shepherd’s[p199]Maze,” and “Robin Hood’s Race.” This was, unfortunately, ploughed up in 1797, at the enclosure of the lordship of Sneinton. Nottinghamshire has, however, another example in the small square one at Clifton.

MAZE FORMERLY EXISTING NEAR ST. ANNE’S WELL, SNEINTON, NOTTINGHAMSHIRE.

Many of these turf-cut labyrinths were destroyed during the Commonwealth, before which[p200]period, according to Aubrey in his history of Surrey, there were many in England. Not a few, however, which survived that time of wanton destruction, have been obliterated since.

In 1827 one which was on Ripon Common was ploughed up. Its diameter was 60 feet. Another existed till comparatively recent times at Hillbury, between Farnham and Guildford. At Pimpern, in Dorset, there was formerly a maze of a unique design. The outline was roughly a triangle, which enclosed nearly an acre of ground; the pathway was marked out by ridges of earth about a foot in height, and followed a singularly intricate course. The plough destroyed this also in 1730.

The names locally applied to these structures often imply very erroneous ideas as to their origin and purpose. In some instances they are ascribed to the shepherds, as if cut by them as pastime in their idle moments; a suggestion, which a glance at the mazes themselves, with their intricate designs and correctly formed curves, will prove to be hardly tenable. Two other names of frequent occurrence in England are “Troy Town,” and “Julian’s Bower”; the latter being connected with the former, Julius,[p201]son of Æneas being the person alluded to. Some have from these titles sought to trace a connection with a very ancient sport known as theTroy Game, which arose in classic times, and survived down to the Middle Ages. It consisted probably in the rhythmicperformance of certain evolutions, much after the fashion of the “Musical Rides” executed by our cavalry. The origin of the idea is to be sought in a passage in Virgil’s Æneid (Bk. V., v. 583et seq.), which has been thus translated byKennett:—

“Files facing files their bold companions dare,And wheel, and charge, and urge the sportive war.Now flight they feign, and naked backs expose,Now with turned spears drive headlong on the foes,And now, confederate grown, in peaceful ranks they close.As Crete’s fam’d labyrinth, to a thousand waysAnd endless darken’d walls the guest conveys;Endless, inextricable rounds amuse,And no kind track the doubtful passage shows;So the glad Trojan youth, the winding courseSporting pursue, and charge the rival force.”

“Files facing files their bold companions dare,And wheel, and charge, and urge the sportive war.Now flight they feign, and naked backs expose,Now with turned spears drive headlong on the foes,And now, confederate grown, in peaceful ranks they close.As Crete’s fam’d labyrinth, to a thousand waysAnd endless darken’d walls the guest conveys;Endless, inextricable rounds amuse,And no kind track the doubtful passage shows;So the glad Trojan youth, the winding courseSporting pursue, and charge the rival force.”

“Files facing files their bold companions dare,

And wheel, and charge, and urge the sportive war.

Now flight they feign, and naked backs expose,

Now with turned spears drive headlong on the foes,

And now, confederate grown, in peaceful ranks they close.

As Crete’s fam’d labyrinth, to a thousand ways

And endless darken’d walls the guest conveys;

Endless, inextricable rounds amuse,

And no kind track the doubtful passage shows;

So the glad Trojan youth, the winding course

Sporting pursue, and charge the rival force.”

Tresco, Scilly, has a maze known as Troy-town; and it would seem that such were once common in Cornwall, since any intricate arrangement is often locally called by that name.

It has, however, been pointed out that[p202]most of these mazes date from a time when classical knowledge was not widely spread in England; that, in fact, the name has probably been given in most instances long after the date of the construction of the work.

It would seem rather that the original use of these quaint figures was, as with those continental examples before noted, ecclesiastical. No one who has had the opportunity of comparing the designs of the English and the foreign mazes can fail to be struck with the great similarity between them; suggesting, at least, a common origin and purpose. And this suggestion is greatly strengthened when we notice that, although the English mazes are never (with one modern instance only excepted) within churches, as are the continental instances, yet they are almost invariably close to a church, or the ancient site of a church. The Alkborough and Wing mazes, for instance, are hard by the parish churches; and those at Sneinton, Winchester, and Boughton Green are beside spots once consecrated by chapels dedicated in honour of St. Anne, St. Catherine, and St. John. The most probable conjecture is that these were originally formed, and for long years were used,[p203]for purposes of devotion and penance. Doubtless in later times the children often trod those mazy ways in sport and emulation, which had been slowly measured countless times before in silent meditation or in penitential tears.

A word or two may be added in conclusion on mazes of the more modern sort, formed for amusement rather than for use, as a curious feature in a scheme of landscape gardening. Thesetopiarymazes, as they are called, usually have their paths defined by walls of well-cut box, yew, or other suitable shrubs; and they differ from the turf mazes in that they are often made purposely puzzling and misleading. In the ecclesiastical maze, it is always the patience, not the ingenuity, which is tested; there is but one road to follow, and though that one wanders in and out with tantalizing curves and coils, yet it leads him who follows it unerringly to the centre.

From Tudor times this form of decoration for a large garden has been more or less popular. Burleigh formed one at the old palace at Theobald’s, Hertfordshire, about 1560; and the Maze in Southwark, near a spot once occupied by the residence of Queen Mary before coming[p204]to the throne, and Maze Hill at Greenwich, no doubt mark the sites of labyrinths now otherwise forgotten. Lord Fauconbergh had a maze at Sutton Court in 1691; and William III. so highly approved of them that, having left one behind him at the Palace of the Loo, he had another constructed at Hampton Court.

Literature and art have not disdained to interest themselves in this somewhat formal method of gardening; for in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries more than one treatise on their construction was published; while Holbein and Tintoretto have left behind them designs for topiary labyrinths.

The oldest and most famous maze in our history is “Fair Rosamond’s Bower,” already mentioned. Of what kind this was, if indeed it was at all, it is difficult to say; authorities disagreeing as to whether it was a matter of architectural arrangement, of connected caves, or of some other kind. The trend of modern historical criticism in this, as in so many other romantic stories from our annals, is to deny its genuineness altogether.

Fortunately although so many of our ancient mazes have disappeared, the designs of their[p205]construction has, in not a few cases, been preserved to us by means of contemporary drawings; so that a fairly accurate idea of the type most commonly followed may still be obtained.

We have to thank Mr. J. Potter Briscoe,F.R.H.S., editor of “Old Nottinghamshire,” for kindly placing at our disposal the two illustrations relating to the St. Anne’s Well Maze.

Back to IndexNext