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January 7th, 2010:

Chilcombe

Jan 7th, 2010
by Dorset Ancestors.
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One of the most interesting aspects of Dorset is its profusion of almost redundant hamlets. A paramount example of this is Chilcombe, not least because of its extraordinary degree of concealment, almost to the point of seeming not to exist at all. And yet, paradoxically, there exists a church, which is rather more than a mere chapel, for it possesses a consecrated ground for burials.

Chilcombe is a hamlet lying on the northern edge of the Bride valley and is accessed from a narrow lane, which is the continuation of the High Street of Swyre, two miles to the south. From its northern end this lane is accessed from the A35 near Bridport. Curiously, the settlement did not grow up along the lane itself, but is offset from it slightly to the east, and today lies within a thick copse of mature trees which completely conceal it from the north and south views along the lane. Quite likely this aspect was more open in mediaeval times, but the fact remains that Chilcombe apparently never the potential for evolving as a populous, economically viable community which could not be missed by the traveller passing through. Indeed, a visit to this well-sheltered and enchanted spot may well leave one with the impression that here is community fossilised in time and space.

From the south, access to the church is via an unsurfaced track leading off to the right from the lane, opposite the relatively modern house of Chilcombe Farm. The end of the track opens out into an area with a farmyard to the left and the 16th century stone-built house of the Manor Farm and its grounds to the right. Situated between these two elements is the low-walled enclosure of the church, its west end facing towards the onlooker, its north side overshadowed by a splendid mature ash tree.

If the church was ever dedicated to a saint, his or her identity has been long lost or forgotten. This unknown dedication, and the simple plan or topography of the building is typical of, or consistent with, a church built to serve a community which failed to thrive or develop the kind of economic prosperity so often the fulcrum for an increase in size and population. It is of the elementary bi-partite plan of nave and chancel, but for which there was apparently never a manorial lord with the wealth or motivation to add aisles, transepts or a tower at later times.

Even before the church is entered however, one will be struck by the smallness and quaintness of the churchyard, from which the building must be accessed through the south facing porch. The burial ground is rectangular, and entirely confined to the south side, so that only a dozen or so burials, took place within it.

Centrally placed in this churchyard is a grey stone cross marking the grave of Frederick Samways (1813-1880), a member of a local family who married into another Dorset land owning family, the Gales. Another quaint feature of this churchyard which will readily be noticed are the bantam hens and chicks given free range over the grounds. In springtime the burial ground, which also had a yew planted within it, is (or was) kept trim by allowing a ewe and her lamb to graze it. This churchyard is said to be one of the smallest in the country.

On entering the church through the south door, the visitor walks into a cool, lofty whitewashed nave with some narrow stained glass windows. Some of this glass is said to date from the 15th century, but the window nearest the chancel arch on the south side bears an inscription at the bottom which includes a late 18th century date. Standing like a large open stone chalice in the south west corner behind the door is a 12th century Norman font with cable moulding. Above the door is displayed a gilded coat of arms in raised relief. As it bears no distinctly legible inscription, it is uncertain who or what this emblem represents, though it is quite likely to be the arms of either the Strong or Bishop (Bysshop) families, who were the principal landowners associated with the Manor of Chilcombe.

The chancel retains two notable features of the church, not including the Norman arch separating the chancel from the nave. Immediately noticeable to the right is a wooden armchair in memory of Robert Bishop whose initials – RB – and the date 1642 can be seen carved into the backrest. The date is presumably the date of Robert’s death, for this chair is thought to have stood in this position for almost three-and-a-half centuries.

Another memorial in the chancel is a stone lintel from above a door in the original Tudor manor house, which was demolished in 1939. It is inscribed: John Bysshop, Eleanor Bysshop Anno Domini 1578. Another member of this family stood as MP for Bridport during the reign of Charles II. The manor later passed to the 2nd Earl Nelson, nephew of Admiral Nelson of Trafalgar, in 1832. A Bishop daughter married a Dr Sagittary, who in 1660 built a remarkable brick house in the Plocks at Blandford. In the south east corner of the chancel can be seen a niche in the wall indicating a rare example of a piscina, or alcove for holy water, dating to the 14th century.

But probably the most interesting and unusual feature is an engraved wooden panel fixed upon the north wall directly opposite the door. Approximately three feet long by twenty inches deep, the work is inlaid with scenes depicting the Crucifixion. It once served as the church’s reredos, though the story behind its origin is somewhat legendary and shrouded in a certain amount of myth. While possibly dating from Elizabethan times, the long-held view that it is a Spanish spoil of the Armada has recently been proved to be a fallacy. The wooden inlay work is English, but a consultation with the Churchwarden has revealed that it is believed to be one of a tableau of three Christian iconographic carvings, the other two possibly portraying the birth or ascension of Christ.

As already stated, Chilcombe Church does not possess a tower. There is only a small louvered capella at the west end housing a single bell, the rope for which rests against the wall inside. As in many other parishes in Dorset and elsewhere in England, Chilcombe lost its clergy during the Black Death, and there is no record on site of the succession of incumbents.

The church was built to accommodate a congregation of 40, but it is likely to have been a very long time since even half this number, were attending regular Sunday services. This does however suggest that Chilcombe’s population, whilst infinitesimally small by today’s standards was larger at an earlier time in its history. Quite possibly the manorial families and their retinue and staff would have comprised the majority of the worshippers.

The now separated (by ownership) Manor house and farm, the farm buildings, a smaller house nearby, Chilcombe Farm and two cottages down the lane are all that remains of Chilcombe today. But as a haven of peace off the beaten track it is in a class of its own.

“…Transported to Such Places Beyond the Seas.”

Jan 7th, 2010
by Dorset Ancestors.
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A sign on the bridge over the River Frome at Lower Bockhampton serves notice that “anyone wilfully injuring the bridge will be guilty of felony and upon conviction liable to be Transported for Life.” People were transported for a lot less serious offences than that and many people sentenced to death for more serious crimes had their sentences commuted and were transported instead.

The idea of being rid of troublesome citizens by transporting them beyond the seas was around long before Britain commenced despatching its felons to Australia. In 1597 during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I an Act (39 Eliz C.4) was passed entitled “An Acte for Punyshment of Rogues, Vagabonds and Stray Beggars.” It allowed for people to “be banished out of this realm” and went on to say “shall be conveyed to such parts beyond the seas as shall be assigned by the Privy Council.” And for good measure declared if a “rogue so banished” returned to England without permission he would be hanged.

Law enforcement during the 17th and 18th centuries was an uncertain business. Anyone who thinks the present British government’s efforts to privatise the prison service are a new idea is mistaken: half the prisons in England were privately owned then. There was no police force. Employing Watchmen was, on the whole, a futile enterprise as most were open to accepting the offer of a small bribe to turn the other way and those given the job were often elderly and stood little chance of apprehending a fit young criminal.

Detection was also in the hands of the private sector. Thief takers – an early incarnation of the private detective – would seek out thieves and other criminals and bring them before a magistrate for a reward. Getting caught was not all bad news for the criminal: in many cases a criminal would come to an arrangement with his victim to repay him or do some work for him rather than face prosecution. This was not an unattractive option for the victim who, if he proceeded to prosecute, would have to pay all the costs involved. Nevertheless, large numbers of people were incarcerated in the country’s jails.

Using the 1597 Act, transportation of groups of criminals got under way in the early 17th century: Sir Thomas Dale, Marshal of Virginia, took 300 “disorderly persons” with him in 1611 and it was not long before he was asking for more convict labour, claiming 2000 were needed.

A new Act (4 Geo 1, C.11) was passed early in the 18th century which provided that minor offenders could be transported for 7 years to America while men on commuted capital sentences, that is having enjoyed the King’s mercy, might be sent for 14 years. The courts did not have a wide selection of punishments to hand down and were often faced with the choice of letting a criminal off or passing the death sentence.

The merits of transportation from the Government’s point of view were that it preserved the Royal Prerogative of Mercy – the felon was left alive; the felon was removed from the realm as effectively as if he had been hanged; It got rid of the prison as well as the prisoner and it provided a labour force to be used in the colonies.

From the middle of the 18th century Britain’s population increased dramatically. The population of London doubled between 1750 and 1770. Young men turned to thieving to make a living. For 60 years during the 18th century 30,000 people were sent to America; convicts were shipped off to face a life of slavery at the rate of about 500-600 a year and few if any returned. The King frequently used his royal prerogative and it was not at all unusual for a death sentence to be commuted. A cynic might think a corpse hanging from the gallows was a deterrent to others but the reprieved man was a long-term asset to be used to build the American colonies. This shameful traffic in humankind kept England’s jails from overflowing.

On August 25th 1768 Capt. Cook set sail from Plymouth and a little over a year later was off the coast of New Zealand where he proceeded to sail his ship Endeavour round both islands. On March 31st 1770 Capt. Cook and his crew were ready for the homeward voyage. On April 19th 1770 a new coastline was discovered and on August 21st 1770 Cook formally claimed Australia for King George III.
In London the new colony was not uppermost in the minds of the politicians who had their hands full trying to head off armed rebellion in America. It was this more taxing matter that was concentrating the mind of the British Prime Minister, the recently ennobled Frederick, Lord North. Matters in America came to a head with the Declaration of Independence on the 4th of July 1776. At a stroke the transportation of convicts to North America was brought to a full stop and very shortly Britain’s jails were at breaking point.

That year Lord North drew up legislation that was to become known as ‘The Hulks Act’ (16 Geo.111, C. 43.) Hulks, old troop transports, their rigging gone, were dotted along the Thames and some southern ports, and were to become home to convicts sentenced to be transported, until the government could find somewhere to send them. The number of convicts being held in this way was increasing by about a thousand annually.

As the situation worsened and the government realised that the door to North America was firmly closed to them a House of Commons Committee was set up in 1779 to decide what was to be done. Hope lingered in some of the more optimistic corners of government that something would turn up to resolve the American problem, but this was not to be. Lord North resigned in 1782 and briefly trod London’s corridors of power again as the Home and Colonial Secretary between March and December 1783.

His successor in that office, Lord Sydney, on appointment faced a clamour for action to be taken to deal with the problem of the terrible overcrowding in the prisons and on board the hulks; the situation was becoming more pressing with each passing day. A new Act (24 Geo.III.C.56) was drafted to allow transportation to places other than America and this entered into law in August 1784.

It was someone from outside of the administration, ironically American born, who in 1783 presented a commercial proposition to the government concerning Australia. At the time Lord North was in charge of Home and Colonial Affairs and he dismissed it.  James Matra, later hearing the government was urgently looking for somewhere to send the convicts, altered the slant of his proposal and re-submitted it to Lord Sydney. Serious consideration was given to transporting the convicts to a settlement on the south west coast of Africa and for a while Australia wasn’t a contender.

William Pitt the younger was now Prime Minister and he was under increasing political pressure especially from some independent members of parliament representing constituencies where some of the hulks were berthed. 

After further consideration the Botany Bay or Australian option was formally approved by the cabinet. The Admiralty was told of the decision on the 31st of August 1786 and instructed to commission the fleet: Captain Arthur Phillip was appointed “Governor of our territories called New South Wales” and received his commission from King George III on 12th October 1786.

The first fleet sailed from Portsmouth early on the 13th May 1787 and arrived at Botany Bay on 18th January 1788. Convicts continued to be transported to Australia for a further 70 years.

Those who survived the voyage were to face a harsh disciplinary regime, near starvation, and we know not what other horrors. There were men, women and children all enduring the same fate irrespective of whether they were guilty of a petty or serious crime. Their guards did not fare any better. The experience was a little easier for later arrivals. It is incredible that out of this hell has grown the great nation we know and respect today.

A Cardinal’s Progress – The Life of John Morton of Stileham

Jan 7th, 2010
by Dorset Ancestors.
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On Easter Sunday in April 1471 a small ship docked at Weymouth after a stormy crossing of the Channel from Brittany. Queen Margaret of Anjou was returning to England with her son Prince Edward of Lancaster on a mission to raise an army against the Yorkists at Tewkesbury. Their escort inland for this critical event in the Thirty Year’s War was a rising Dorset born clerical statesman soon to have an important influence on the course of England’s dynastic history – John Morton.

Morton was born in Stileham, Milton St. Andrew, Dorset, in 1420. On his mother’s side he was a descendant of the Turberville family of Bere Regis (the D’Urbervilles of Thomas Hardy’s Tess. Who are commemorated by a stained glass window in the Church.) His grandfather and other members of the family are also buried in the church.

Educated at Cerne Abbey and Balliol College, Oxford, young John graduated in law and went on to study for the priesthood. By 1446 he had become one of the University’s commissioners and was subsequently appointed Moderator of the Civil Law School, Master in Chancery and Chancellor of the Duchy of Cornwall by the time he was about 30. From here on Morton emerged as a most distinguished clerical lawyer, holding several preferment positions, including that of Vicar of Bloxworth. He was to have an important effect on the country’s affairs in the latter half of the 15th century.

This chiefly came about through Morton becoming committed to supporting the Lancastrians during the Wars of the Roses. He probably realised that the cause of the Lancastrian Henry VI was lost, but held office under him and lent his support nevertheless. But after the Yorkist victory at the battle of Towton in 1461, the Earl of Warwick deposed Henry and put Edward IV on the throne. The new king took Henry prisoner and Morton escaped to France wit Henry” other followers, spending several years in exile there with Queen Margaret.

It appears that sometime before 1470 Morton decided to seek the King’s pardon. This Edward granted, and Morton returned from France. But as the King was also aware of Morton’s ability and loyalty to a cause, Edward further appointed him Master of the Rolls, then Bishop of Ely (he plays a minor role as such in Act 3, scene 4 of Shakespeare’s Richard III.) After Edward had been on the throne for a few years he quarrelled with Warwick, who deposed him and restored Henry. But at the battle of Barnet in 1471 Warwick was killed and Henry died, presumed murdered, in prison soon after.

It was at this point that Queen Margaret and Prince Edward returned to England to be escorted by John Morton to Cerne Abbey en route to Tewkesbury. But at the Battle there later in 1471 Edward IV inflicted a defeat upon the Lancastrians and Queen Margaret was taken prisoner, but after paying a ransom was allowed to return broken hearted to France.

For Edward, Morton had been a valued advisor whose duties often took him abroad. When Edward died in 1483 his 12-year old son Edward, Duke of York briefly succeeded as Edward V. But his Uncle Richard, Duke of Gloucester, imprisoned Edward and his younger brother in the Tower where, according to tradition, he had the princes murdered so as to claim the throne for himself as Richard III. The new king’s suspicions about Morton’s loyalty outweighed any regard he had for his abilities as a statesman. On the pretext of some cleverly contrived charge or excuse, Morton was committed to prison, first in the Tower, then later Brecknock Castle. For some months his life would hang by a slender thread, and he faced being murdered, had he not managed to escape.

After this timely breakout Morton joined and sided with Henry Tudor, Earl of Richmond in Brittany, where he helped to plan the Earl’s invasion to oust Richard from the throne. The fatal engagement came at Bosworth, where Richard was killed and Henry came to the throne as Henry VII. As a reward for his loyalty Morton became the first Tudor’s most trusted advisor, being promoted from Commissioner to Chancellor of Oxford University.

Thus Morton helped to establish the Tudor dynasty, but his effect on the course of English history did not end there. He effectively brought the dynastic civil war to its end, ushering in a new age of peace and material progress by advocating in 1486 the marriage of Henry to Elizabeth of York – the future mother of Henry VIII – so symbolically uniting the two royal houses. That year also Morton was appointed Archbishop of Canterbury. The following year he became Lord Chancellor and, in 1493, a Cardinal.

Morton helped Henry accumulate substantial reserves while becoming wealthy himself at the same time. The Cardinal was intensely dedicated to ambitious building and restoration projects, into which he poured much of his personal assets. He rebuilt the palaces of Wisbech and Hatfield, and funded those of Lambeth and Canterbury.

Another re-building venture close to his own heart was the re-ordering of Bere Regis Church, where he constructed the timber roof as a memorial to his parents and also left a legacy for the upkeep of the paintings. He is represented personally in the bosses, the central boss being specially carved to portray the unification of the York and Lancastrian houses. But one of Cardinal Morton’s greatest achievements was the excavation of a great leet or drainage ditch through the East Anglian fens between Peterborough and Wisbech and named Morton’s Dyke after him.

Another facet of the Cardinal’s character was his ingenuity in procuring “benevolences” from the poor and wealthy alike, a practice which gave rise to the expression “Morton’s Fork”. If he heard a nobleman was rich he would say “I hear you are a very rich man, and are surely able to spare some money for the King.” He would then “turn the prong” to the nobleman who lived frugally and say “you are a careful thrifty person who must have saved much money, and some you will be able to spare for the King.” Neither then escaped their obligations to the royal coffers. But Morton did restrain certain financial policies that Henry proposed.

The opinions of contemporary writers about the Cardinal vary considerably however. Many saw him as a strange character, one accusing him of acting “from base and sordid motives,” even of sorcery. As a young man the statesman and writer Sir Thomas More served in the Morton household. He later wrote that Morton was “a man not more venerated for his high rank than for his wisdom and virtue.”

Other writers said he was energetic, sometimes brusque with polished manners, exemplary as a lawyer, one possessed of a great mind and a phenomenal memory. Through discipline and hard study he improved the talents which nature had bestowed upon him. He was a wise man, according to Bacon, but “a harsh and haughty one.” Morton could also be summed up as being accepted by the King, envied by the nobility, but hated by the people.

Cardinal Morton died at Knole, Sevenoaks in Kent in 1500 in his 80th year, and was buried in the crypt of Canterbury Cathedral.

Wimborne to 1800 – A Brief History

Jan 7th, 2010
by Dorset Ancestors.
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There is no certainty whether the site of Wimborne, the historic Minster town of Dorset, had any pre-cursor before the Saxon period. The town occupies a rather strategic position on the floodplain of the convergent rivers Stour and Allen, a situation of quick flooding and drying as the rivers rise and subside. But the Allen had long protected and restricted urban development eastwards.

Although it did not originate as a Saxon Burgh with the status of Bridport or Wareham, Wimborne has nevertheless been a significant royal manor since the 8th century AD. Early in that century King Ina (or Ine) of the West Saxons (688-726) founded the bishopric of Sherborne and appointed St. Aldhelm as its first bishop. In 705, Ina’s sister Cuthberga founded a nunnery on the site, which then became a monastic order for men as well as women. Both Cuthberga and her sister Quinberga – credited with being the co-founders of the town – were buried there.

The term ‘Minster’ occurs in other Dorset place names and can signify both a group of churches founded by King Ina to support a bishopric, and a monastic abbey church. Wimborne first appears as a Minster in 871. The nunnery was sacked and destroyed by invading Danes in 1013, but in 1043 Edward the Confessor founded a college of secular canons on the site. The collegiate building has not survived, but some of the fabric of the late Saxon church (i.e. the Minster) is preserved in the transepts and crossing. For centuries the church retained a special status as a royal free chapel independent of the bishop.

At Doomesday in 1086 Wimborne was held by Queen Matilda as lands of the King, and fell within the 32-hide Hundred of Badbury. But it was the Earl of Gloucester (the future King John) who granted the Minster a charter. The Minster then underwent phases of extensive re-ordering and enlargement in 12th, 13th and 14th centuries. Two developments in the 15th century were the addition of the western tower and a spire to the crossing-tower, though the central tower’s embattled parapet and pinnacles were not added until 1608. The main interior features of interest are the Norman Purbeck Stone font, a 15th century brass to king Ethelred, a medieval astronomical clock and the Chained Library – possibly the earliest public library anywhere.

Like other religious foundations Wimborne attracted settlement of population, though its site was less spectacular than that of Shaftesbury or Corfe. By 1200 a market and fair to be held on St. Cuthberga’s Day (August 31st) was in existence. Originally this was held in the churchyard but in 1244 it was compelled to move onto open space now partly occupied by the present Cornmarket, just west of the Minster. This market was the property of the Deanery Manor and provided the church with an income from stallholders. Further streets would later grow up around the Cornmarket, which also held the stocks for public punishments.

The church/market area then provided the focus around which the town developed in the form of what can be identified as three distinct boroughs or areas. Essentially the area to the north of the Minster and its grounds developed as two boroughs laid out along the axis of what would be called East Street and West Street. Here was centered the first commercial activity in the town. This development was established by the de Lacy’s, Lords of Kingston Lacy, who may have set up a market while the Deanery was without Royal support. But the long streets of East and West Boroughs were not laid out as a natural development from the town centre; rather, their origin is in a rival market set up in opposition to the Deanery.

This market was the borough manor market of the de Lacy’s, which had its own court, and it is recorded that this manor was involved in a dispute with the manor of the Dean in 1236. The noted Dorset historian John Hutchins mentions that there were already burgage tenure properties and evidence of stalls by very early in the 13th century, so indicating the appearance of the Boroughs as a northerly appendage to the ecclesiastical hub. Then about 1300 John de Lacy’s son Henry staked a claim to hold a fair once a year with a weekly market on Sunday and Monday.

The part of the East Borough leading into the Square was originally a narrow winding street crowded with buildings and known as Black Lane. The area of the square was once occupied by a chapel called St. Peters, which was later demolished. The area of the High Street where it bends sharply just east of the Minster, was called Cheapside, though many other street names of the earlier Wimborne are now lost.

The third area of growth centered on a meadow just south west of the Minster long recorded on maps as The Leaze and belonging to Deans Court. This area lies between the Minster and the Stour, and superficially appeared not to have been developed. However, it had been noted that a lane branching from King Street grades into a holloway before ending abruptly some distance from the river, suggesting some main street access to a former residential area. Interestingly, this was indeed confirmed by excavations between 1961 and 1964, revealing the presence of streets and the platforms of houses or cottages extending to the Stour’s floodplain boundary. This evidence dated The Leaze as a borough to around 1200, but it was apparently abandoned by the mid 14th century.

The Black Death did much to halt any further expansion of the town by 1350, and this decease is likely to have been the cause of the desertion of The Leaze. Leprosy was also widespread in the district and a building was dedicated to St. Margaret as a hospital for lepers. In 1800 a document, seemingly to date from King John’s time, was discovered in a chest in St. Margaret’s Almhouses, which superceded the hospital on the site, stating that it was a building for the welfare of lepers.

In 1496 the Countess of Richmond and mother of Henry VII, Lady Margaret Beaufort, founded the grammar school which Elizabeth I re-endowed and which was re-named after her in 1562. Another parchment deed exists endowing a school in Wimborne in 1510, though churchwarden’s accounts at the Reformation indicate trouble and expense in the maintaining of this institution. The governors were then accused by royal commissioners of allowing the building to fall into dis-repair.

Poet Matthew Prior is believed to have been born in Priors Walk in 1664. Wimborne had an unenviable reputation for uncleanliness until 1800, by which time the town had largely been rebuilt. In 1758 the Market House opened in the Cornmarket. The first regular coach service from London to reach here started in 1772, when the fare was £1.4s for the 14-hour journey. In more recent times the smuggler Isaac Gulliver and writer Thomas Hardy lived in Wimborne for a time and it is believed that the memorial to Gulliver in the Minster was the inspiration for the characters Snodgrass and Wardell in the Pickwick Papers. By the 19th century the parish covered 12,000 acres.

In 1915 Canon Fletcher and a doctor, Sir Kaye Le Flem, were sorting archive documents in the Minster library when they stumbled upon hitherto lost churchwardens accounts for 1403 and 1475. The documents revealed that at the time they were written the people of Wimborne were paying rent to the church as the landlords of the property they occupied, as well as burial fees.