Historic Sites of Lancashire and Cheshire / A Wayfarer's Notes in the Palatine Counties, Historical, Legendary, Genealogical, and Descriptive.

It was the first great battle in which Cromwell and his invincible Ironsides had borne a part, and it was their irresistible bravery that decided the day. Rupert was fairly swept off the field, and the hopes of Charles were completely wrecked. It was the greatest achievement of the war, and left the whole of the northern counties open to the Parliament's sway.

The discomfited Rupert, with the wreck of his army, retreated towards Chester, and thence into Lancashire, where he had the mortification to see all the strongholds he had recently gained speedily retaken, and among them the castle of Liverpool. Brereton was quickly marching in the same direction. Halton Castle still held out for the King, though, as we learn from a letter addressed by Goring to Prince Rupert, it was then threatened by the garrison of Warrington. It shortly afterwards surrendered, and on the 22nd July was taken possession of by the Parliamentary troops under Brereton. A few weeks later Colonel Marrow, the governor of Chester, with a small force marched from that city towards Northwich, "plundering some poor men's cattle by the way;" when near Hartford he was met by a party of Brereton's men. Marrow retreated towards Sandiway, and there faced about, when a skirmish took place. Fifteen of Brereton's soldiers were captured, but the victory was dearly bought, for Marrow himself, "a most pestilent Atheisticall Royalist," as Vicars calls him, received a shot, from the effects of which he died the following day. This was on Sunday, the 18th of August. A few days later the Nantwich men, with the assistance of Brereton's cavalry and some troops from Halton, attacked the Royalists in their quarters near Tarvin, and defeated them, and on the 26th they were again engaged near Malpas, when the Cavaliers sustained some serious losses.

Hearing that Lord Herbert, of Cherbury, was besieged in Montgomery Castle, Brereton, with Sir Wm. Meldran, Sir Wm. Fairfax, and thirty-two troops of horse out of Lancashire, and other companies out of Staffordshire, in all about three thousand men, set out to relieve him. On Tuesday, the 17th September, they compelled the Royalists to raise the siege, which led to a desperate encounter on the following day, when the King's troops were defeated with a loss of five hundred slain and fourteen hundred prisoners, among the latter being that "Chevalier sans peur et sans reproche," Major-general Sir Thomas Tyldesley. Among the slain on the Parliament side was Sir William Fairfax. A week after this exploit Brereton and his forces returned to Nantwich. In the scattered but authentic records of the period we get frequent glimpses of him hurrying hither and thither during the dark winter months. In February, 1644-5, the town and castle of Shrewsbury, with the ordnance, arms, and ammunition, and a considerable body of prisoners, surrendered to him, and, as the spring advanced, his forces began to gather by degrees round the castle of Beeston and the city of Chester, which still held out for the King; but news coming that the Princes Rupert and Maurice were approaching to the relief, his men fell back upon Nantwich, and the relieving force of Royalists, having accomplished their object, retired, first plundering Bunbury and burning Beeston Hall. Scarcely had they departed, however, when the siege of Chester was renewed. On the 7th of May the King left Oxford, and marched with his forces in the direction of the city, but when within twenty miles of it Brereton, hearing of his advance, raised the siege and retired into Lancashire. This movement left his Majesty free to commence operations in another direction, and he suddenly appeared before Leicester and carried the town by storm.

On the 14th of June the battle of Naseby was fought—the most decisive and disastrous to the King of all his military engagements—the Royalists losing all their artillery, baggage, the King's private cabinet, and eight thousand stand of arms, while the Parliamentarians were put in possession of nearly all the chief cities of the kingdom. The siege of Bristol followed; on the 9th of September the city was stormed and taken, and victory seemed everywhere to attend the movements of the King's opponents. Charles, who was now at Hereford, resolved on proceeding to Chester, hoping to reach it by a circuitous route over the Welsh mountains, and intending thence to make his way northward by Lancashire and Cumberland, to join Montrose. The march through that wild and inhospitable region occupied five days, the King and his party being exposed the while to many hardships and privations. He had arranged his plans in the full belief that Chester was safe from any meditated attack, but, to his dismay, on approaching the city he found the people in a state of excitement and alarm, Sir William Brereton having collected a powerful body of troops, including the force with which Colonel Jones and the redoubtable Adjutant-general Lowthian had been investing Beeston Castle, and was then preparing to attack it, having, indeed, on the very day his Majesty left Hereford, surprised and possessed himself of the mayor's house, and with it the sword and mace of the corporation, as well as of St. John's Church, Boughton, and some of the eastern suburbs.

On learning the position of affairs, the King ordered Sir Marmaduke Langdale—he who had fought so gallantly at Naseby—to cross the Dee eastwards above Chester, whilst himself, with his guards, Lord Gerard, and the remainder of the horse, would enter the city by the west, intending thus to dislodge the republican soldiers by a simultaneous attack upon their front and rear. But these plans were disconcerted by the unexpected appearance of Major-general Poyntz, who had been following in the King's track, and had advanced from Whitchurch to the help of Brereton's forces.

The King reached the city, on the night of Wednesday, the 24th of September, 1645, Sir Marmaduke Langdale having in the meantime crossed the river at Holt Bridge, and drawn up his men on Rowton Heath, some two miles distant. On the following morning Poyntz came upon the scene, when he was attacked by Langdale and repulsed with considerable loss, but a party of Brereton's men, headed by Colonel Jones and Lowthian, hastened to their assistance, when Langdale was in turn overpowered and compelled to seek shelter beneath the city walls, where the Royal Guards, commanded by the young Earl of Lichfield and the Lords Gerard and Lindsey, were ready to support them. The contest now became fierce and general. From the leads on the Phœnix Tower on Chester walls the ill-fated Charles watched the fluctuating progress of this last effort for the maintenance of the Royal power; amid the broken surges of the battle he saw his own battalions alternately retreating and rallying until at length, overpowered by numbers, they were compelled to retreat, and he saw, too, his gallant kinsman, Bernard Stuart, Earl of Lichfield—the third brother of that illustrious family who had sacrificed their lives in the cause—with many a gentleman besides fall dead at his feet, and all that had hitherto survived of his broken remnant of a host either taken prisoners or driven in headlong rout and ruin from the fatal field. "Thenceforward the King's sword was a useless bauble, less significant than the 'George' upon his breast."

Charles bore his misfortune with a dignity and composure that reminds us of his valorous predecessor, the fifth Harry, when in similar peril.

Chester still held out, and its preservation was of the utmost importance to the Royal cause, for it was the only place at which the King could hope to land the reinforcements expected from Ireland. It was inexpedient, however, for him to incur the risk of being shut up within the beleaguered city, and so at the close of that fatal Thursday when the fight on Rowton Heath was ended, and the grey twilight of the autumn evening was deepening into the sombre gloom of night, the ill-starred monarch—a monarch only in name—accompanied by a small guard and a few faithful followers, passed over the Dee Bridge a fugitive on his way to Denbigh.

Everything which Charles or his friends attempted seemed to bear upon it the impress of a failing or utterly fallen cause. The defeated, powerless, almost friendless monarch was as unsuccessful in the business of diplomacy as he was in that of war; and whatever was indiscreetly planned was sure to be as rashly undertaken. Power had passed from his grasp; but suffering had hardly as yet wreathed its halo round his discrowned brow or

While at Denbigh, whither he had sought refuge on the discomfiture of his troops before Chester, he received the mortifying intelligence that Montrose had been surprised near Berwick by Lesley's steel-clad troopers, and that his men, after a brief but gallant resistance, had laid down their arms on the promise of quarter. All hope from that direction was now at an end, and the idea of moving northwards was abandoned. Turning his steps southwards, the fallen monarch, accompanied by a few broken squadrons, retreated by way of Chirk, Bridgenorth, and Lichfield to Newark: whence the march was continued until the evening of the 5th of November, when the tired fugitives entered the city of Oxford, Charles having, as his affectionate historian writes, "finished the most tedious and grievous march that ever King was exercised in."

On the 16th of November, three weeks after the defeat of the Royalist army on Rowton Heath, the garrison of Beeston, after bravely holding out for well-nigh twelve months, and undergoing the severest privations, surrendered to Sir William Brereton. The loss of the great Cheshire stronghold was a severe blow, but the hopes of Charles had not entirely vanished. Chester still held out, and through the long months of that dreary winter its gallant defenders persistently refused to yield. On the 10th of December Brereton's army was reinforced, in accordance with an order of the Parliament, by the Lancashire forces commanded by Colonel Booth, who were then flushed with their recent successes at Lathom House; but rather than surrender the loyal citizens elected to keep a "Lenten Christmas," and, as the old chronicler has it, "to feed on horses, dogs, and cats." On the 1st of January, 1645-6, Brereton sent a preliminary summons to the governor, Lord Byron,[41] demanding that the city should be immediately given up; but the summons was disregarded; and subsequent demands were treated with the same contumely, until at last, on the 3rd of February, when the brave defenders had become reduced to the last extremity by famine, the city and castle were given up to Brereton, after having withstood a close siege for fully twenty weeks.

The following extract from a letter preserved among the MS. collection of Walker, the historian, of "The Sufferings of the Clergy," in the Bodleian Library, in which the writer, Mr. Edward Seddon, a native of Chester, describing the sufferings his father had to endure during and after the siege, gives a vivid picture of the hardships our forefathers had to face in that great struggle:—

In pursuance of a promise I formerly made in a letter to Mr. Webber, I have here sent you the following account of my most honoured father's sufferings in the late times of rebellion and confusion, wherein, though, perhaps, I may be under some mistakes, in not adjusting every passage to its proper time, or mis-nomen of some persons mentioned in it, yet I have not willingly and knowingly trespas'd upon ye truth in any material part of my relation, which I hope you'l therefore peruse with candour as follows;—The Reverend Mr. William Seddon M.A. of Magdalen Coll. in Camb., being about the year of our Lord 1636, setl'd a preacher in one of ye parish Churches, I think St. Maries in ye City of Chester, was then also possess'd of a Vicarage at Eastham (about six miles distant from ye City, value 68li. per annum), where he liv'd with his wife and family in a very happy condition, till ye Civil Wars breaking out, and ye Parliament forces drawing on to besiege Chester, he was compel'd to withdraw his family and effects into ye City for succour, where his great and good Friend and Pastor, ye Lord Bishop Bridgman, then Lord Bishop of Chester, accomodated him with several rooms and lodgings in his own Palace; and yet the aged Bishop dreading the hardships of a siege, voided the place, leaving my father in his Palace, who continued diligent in his ministry, and frequent Preaching to ye Garrison there. And the City being closely besieg'd and frequently storm'd, my Mother was on ye 12th day of Octob., 1645, delivered of me, her 9th child (all the 9 then living) and said to be ye last yt was publickly baptiz'd in ye Font of yt Cathedral there before ye restoracion in 1660. The City being surrendred upon Articles my Father was shortly apprehended and made Prisoner, and after some short durance was demanded by ye prevailing Powers, why he had not, according to ye Articles of surrender, march'd off with ye Garrison to ye King's Quarters, to which he reply'd, yt he thought his Cassock had vnconcern'd him in those Articles, being a Minister in ye City, but above all he had a wife, and many small children there, which if he could see tolerably dispos'd of he would, not vnwillingly, accept the Articles. But many complaints being made against him, yt he had in his preaching reflected upon the proceedings of the prevailing party, had animated ye Garrison to resist even unto blood, &c., he was remanded to Prison again, and his house permitted to be plunder'd by ye souldiers, who despoil'd him not of his goods only, but of his books and papers, which they exposed to sale at a very low rate; and so by private directions to some of his friends, he repurchas'd some of the most necessary for his own use. But then an order was drawn up to export his wife and children out of ye City to Eastham (which accordingly was done, several of ye younger sort being put into a wagon with other goods which had escap'd the pillage) where though they had only ye bare walls of a Vicarage house to resort to, yet they found a hearty welcome from ye loial part of the parishioners there, amongst whom they dispers'd themselves, and in a short time after, my Father's confinement was somewhat enlarg'd and his escape conniv'd at, which gave him ye liberty of going in quest of his wife and children, whom he found in pretty good circumstances among his loial friends. But another minister (whose name and character I have utterly forgot)[42] being despatch'd with orders from ye ruling powers at Chester to supply the vicarage at Eastham, and a rumour dispsd, yt my father must be apprehended again, and reduc'd as prisoner to Chester, he scamper'd about privately to the houses of ye loyal Gentry, to whom his character and condition were well known, and then despatched a letter to his elder Brother Mr. Peter Seddon of Outwood in Lancashire (ye place of my Father's nativity) who was then, at that rate of ye times, turn'd zealous Presbiterian too, and had a son a Captain in ye Parliament's army, acquainting him with ye storm he was under, and requesting him to cover either all or part of his ffamily, till he could weather ye storm; to which letter ye main of ye answers he had was yt would he conform himself to ye Godly party, his own merits would protect and prefer him, which so incens'd my Father yet he never more held any correspondence with him.[43]

After the reduction of Chester, Brereton was free to turn his attention in other directions. Lichfield surrendered to his arms on the 5th of March; on the 21st of April Tutbury was delivered into his possession; seven days later Bridgewater yielded, and on the 12th of May Dudley Castle was taken. "These, with many other victories," says Rycroft, "hath this valiant knight performed which will to after ages stand a monument to his due praise."

The Parliament was not slow in rewarding him for the important services rendered to the cause. In addition to being made Commander-in-Chief of the Parliament's forces in Cheshire, Staffordshire, and Shropshire, he had conferred upon him the chief Forestership of Macclesfield Forest, as well as the Seneschalship of the Hundred; he received other rewards, too, in the shape of grants of money and lands out of the sequestered estates of "delinquent" Royalists and Papists, and on the termination of the war had bestowed upon him the archiepiscopal palace of Croydon, in which he fixed his residence during the Protectorate.

Brereton, though professedly a Churchman, was notorious for his aversion to the episcopal form of Church government; anxious that his country should enjoy the blessings of the kirk discipline, he busied himself in the brief intervals he could snatch from his military engagements in the direction of the ecclesiastical affairs of his native county, and the accounts and other memoranda preserved in the parish chest of many a village church in Cheshire bear testimony to the suffering and misery inflicted on many a worthy clergyman by his rough and ready method of effecting reforms. Poor William Seddon was not the only one who felt the weight of his displeasure, for the Cheshire parsons had in many instances the mortification of seeing their churches and rectory houses sacked, their livings sequestered, and themselves driven from their flocks and their homes, and, being non-combatants, left powerless to help themselves or their families. Liberty had been clamoured for, but those who clamoured when they got the power, as Fuller says, "girt their own garment closest about the consciences of others." Presbyterianism was as bigoted as Episcopacy, and Independency, which followed, was as intolerant as either.

Brereton lived to see the restoration of monarchy in the person of Charles II., but he did not long survive that event, his death occurring at the palace of Croydon, April 7th, 1661. His remains were brought down into Cheshire for interment in the Honford Chapel attached to Cheadle Church, where many of his progenitors lie, but there is no record of his burial there, though curiously enough in the parish register there is an entry of his death at Croydon. As previously stated, there is no memorial of him in the church, and tradition accounts for the absence by the story that while the body was being conveyed to what was intended to be its last resting place a river that had to be forded had become swollen by a storm during the night, and that, when endeavouring to cross, the coffin, with its ghastly occupant, was carried away by the surging waters and never recovered. Whether the deft and inquiring local antiquary will ever discover any genuine metal by the smelting of the rude ore of this old wife's fable remains to be seen.

That Sir William Brereton possessed great natural talents and abilities no one can doubt, for without any proper military training he rapidly rose to distinction, and was incontestably one of the greatest military characters that his county has produced. The exigencies of those times demanded military rather than political celebrities, and Brereton was one of the few men possessing the genius needed. It was the great upheaval in the national life that brought him into prominence and gave him the opportunity, and but for that it is more than probable he would never have attained to any special pre-eminence. His character exhibits a happy blending of adroitness and force, and illustrates in a strong degree the prodigious but coarse energy which marked that unhappy age. His thirst for freedom hurried him into open resistance to prerogative, while his religious feelings deepened into something approaching very nearly to fanaticism. The gospel as exhibited in Presbyterianism, and liberty as exemplified in the Parliament, constituted, in his belief, the cause of God and truth, and this was the secret of his influence. His discernment enabled him to gather around him those in whom the same sentiments were blended—stern, dogged, self-reliant Puritans, who believed in God and in the destinies of their leader—and by the master-power of his energy and zeal he succeeded in moulding them to his will. Clarendon speaks of the devotion of the lower orders to "Sir William Brereton and his companions, and their readiness to supply them with intelligence;" and, though he allows their education had but ill-fitted them for the conduct of a war, praises their execution of "their commands with notable sobriety and indefatigable industry (virtues not so well practised in the King's quarters), insomuch as the best soldiers who encountered with them had no cause to despise them." Brereton shared the opinion which Cromwell expressed to his cousin Hampden that an army of "decayed serving men and tapsters" would never be able to encounter "gentlemen that have honour and courage and resolution in them," and therefore he chose only "such men as had the fear of God before them and made some conscience of what they did." Such enthusiasts knew no fear, and had small respect for rank and power so far as outward demeanour was concerned; they had an ever-present belief that they were doing "the Lord's work," and, whether starving in a fortress or ridden down by men in steel, they would not be moved

Brereton was their chief, but he was their comrade also; if he trained and disciplined them he shared also their hardships, their dangers, and their privations. He was prodigal of his own safety, and his prodigality increased their faith and inspired their confidence, and thus enabled them not only to withstand the reckless daring—the chivalrous bravery of the Cavaliers—but eventually to overcome and scatter those who counted their lives as nothing in defence of their sovereign's cause.

Both Rycroft and Vicars[44] give what purport to be portraits of Brereton, but they are rude and unsatisfactory, and there is a doubt as to their authenticity. An unfriendly hand ("Mysteries of the Good Old Cause," 12mo., 1663, p. 3) has described him as "a notable man at a thanksgiving dinner, having terrible long teeth and a prodigious stomach to turn the archbishop's chapel at Croydon into a kitchen, also to swallow up that palace and lands at a morsel."

The subsequent history of Handforth Hall is soon told, As previously stated, Sir William Brereton lost his first wife—a daughter of Sir George Booth, of Dunham—before the breaking out of the Civil Wars; he again entered the marriage state, his second wife being Cicely, daughter of Sir William Skeffington, of Fisherwick, in Leicestershire, the widow of his former comrade in arms, Edward Mytton, of Weston, in Staffordshire, but as no mention is made of this lady in his will the presumption is that she also predeceased him. At the time of his death there were living four daughters, two by the first and two by the second marriage, and one son, Thomas Brereton, the sole heir, who succeeded to the baronetcy, and who was then married to the Lady Theodosia, youngest daughter of Humble, first Baron Ward, of Birmingham, ancestor of the present Lord Dudley. This Sir Thomas, who was born in 1632, died childless on the 7th of January, 1673, and was buried on the 17th of the same month in the Handforth Chapel, at Cheadle, where there is now a handsome altar tomb to his memory with his recumbent effigy resting thereon. He is represented in the plate armour of the period, with the hands uplifted and conjoined as if in supplication; the figure is bareheaded, with the long-flowing hair characteristic of the later Carolinian period, and the head rests upon a helmet surmounted with a plume of feathers. At one end is a shield, representing the arms of Brereton impaling those of Ward, and on the side are two shields—Brereton with a crescent as a mark of cadency and the badge of baronetcy, and Ward, and between these on a tablet is the following inscription:—

Here Lyeth the Body of Sr Thomas Brereton of Handforth, Barronett, who Married Theodosia Daughter to the Right Honourable Humble Lord Ward and the Lady Frances Barronesse Dudly. hee Departed this Life the 7th of January Anno Dom: 1673

Ætatis Suæ 43.

With the death of Sir Thomas Brereton the line once so firmly established in Cheshire terminated, and nothing now remains but the old ancestral home, the recollections of the name, and the memories that surround it. After the decease of his widow, who remarried Charles Brereton, and died in childbed, February 23, 1677, frequent disputes respecting the disposition of the estates arose between Nathaniel Booth, of Mottram-Andrew, who claimed as heir under a deed of trust executed in the lifetime of Sir Thomas, and William Ward, the eldest son of Frances Lady Ward, who claimed on the ground of kinship. Eventually they descended to Nathaniel Booth, of Hampstead, heir to Nathaniel Booth, of Mottram-Andrew, who succeeded to the baronetcy, and also to the barony of Delamere. On the 14th of June, 1764, the manor, &c., passed from this Nathaniel by purchase to Edward Wrench, of Chester, and his nephew and heir, Edward Omaney Wrench, sold the same in 1805, to Joseph Cooper, of Handforth, yeoman, whose trustees in turn resold it in 1808 to William Pass, of Altrincham, from whom it was purchased by the late Stephen Symonds, then of Handforth, but subsequently of Broadwater Hall, Worthing, the father of the present rector of Stockport, and James Cunliffe, who held the manor jointly until the dissolution of their partnership in 1875, when it continued in the sole possession of Mr. Symonds until the year 1878, when he resold it to Edward T. Cunliffe, who is the present lord of the manor.

CHAPTER V.

NEWBY BRIDGE AND THE LAKE COUNTRY—AN AUTUMN DAY AT CARTMEL—THE PRIORY CHURCH.

It was Theodore Hook, if we remember rightly, who, when the New Monthly was in its prime and he was in one of his most playful moods, sang the praises of the "Swan" at Ditton. Our own memory recalls a pleasant visit to that quaint resting place, famous in the records of Thames anglers and Cockney pleasure parties, when, after much happy and harmless enjoyment upon

we steered our tiny bark through a small flotilla of boats, round the picturesque aits, and beneath the overhanging willows, to seek the much needed refreshment the ancient hostelry affords. But while we would not willingly decry the attractions of the "snug inn" that Hook's rhyming fancy has made for ever famous, or deny that—

we must confess that, for peaceful quietude, the beauty of the scenery without and the comforts to be found within, we give a preference to the "Swan" at Newby. The old mansion-like inn is familiar, if not indeed endeared, to everyone who has sojourned upon the green shores of wooded Windermere, and in the old coaching days, ere the shrill whistle of the locomotive had awoke the echoes in those peace-breathing valleys, it was as much in favour with the turtle doves and as much sought after by the votaries of Hymen as the "Low Wood" is at the present time. It stands on the banks of the Leven, near its outlet from the lake, and at the very foot of that bleak range of fir-clad melancholy hills that rise like a mountain barrier to guard the Lake country from the inroads of the treacherous sea. The clear river glides smoothly along by the front of the house, a quaint old bridge of five arches with queer little recesses on either side bestrides the stream, and, just below, its waters are dammed up by a weir, over which they fall in sheets of whitened foam, making a perpetual music that awakes the drowsy echoes of the vale. Simple are the details, but charming is the combination—the old bridge, grey and weather-worn and lichen-stained, the white front of the pleasant old hostelry repeating itself in the still clear waters of the Leven, the little patch of unpretentious garden with a trim pleasure-boat moored to its bank, and the clump of tall trees at the foot of the bridge that bend gracefully over the stream and now and then dip their pensile branches in the current, together make up as attractive a picture as the eye of an artist would wish to rest upon.

If you have an hour to spare, you cannot better employ it than by climbing the wooded hill that rises from behind the inn, crowned with a square tower, the "Folly," as it is called, erected in memory of England's naval victories. From the top of Finsthwaite, for that is the name, you have one of the most varied and charming prospects that even the Lake country affords. Beneath you, lying like an outstretched panorama, may be seen the whole length of Windermere, with its verdant slopes, its green isles, its wooded hills, and heather-clad fells. The water, in the intensity of its blueness, rivals the azure dome above; and the eye, as it ranges along the placid surface, can trace the river-like course of the lake and note every jutting headland and every indentation along its shores. Just beyond the Ferry is Bowness, and, further north, near the head of the lake, is a cluster of mountain peaks, the advanced guard of the mighty Helvellyn, Wansfell, Loughrigg, and the twin pikes of Langdale rising prominently among them. From the summit of this tree-clad eminence the prospect is delightful at all seasons—in the early morning when the thin filmy mists of night are gathering up their skirts and stealing lazily up the mountain sides, or when evening comes on calm, and golden, and the slanting beams of the declining sun stream upon you with dazzling, almost blinding, brilliance. If you can choose your opportunity at the season when the summer's green is changing to the russet brown which tells of the waning of the year and are fortunate enough before the gloaming begins to catch the sunset effects as the warm rays tip with roseate hue the stony coronal of Gummer How, and shed a flood of golden light upon the wild fells already purpled with autumnal splendour, you will linger long to gaze upon the scene of ever-changeful beauty, and mark the varied combinations and the exquisite gradations of colour as the yellow light changes into a gorgeous crimson and the crimson deepens into purple until all becomes shadowy and vague.

Southwards the view is of an entirely different character. You may trace the course of the Leven as it winds its way beneath the precipitous hills, through the deep-wooded glen, and by the rocky gorge at Backbarrow, where there is a cotton mill that seems strangely out of place, to the shores of Morecambe Bay; the puffs of white steam that ever and anon steal through the umbrage mark the line of the railway from Lakeside to Ulverston, and show the close companionship the rail and the river keep. Eastwards, across the valley where the lower slopes of the bleak Cartmel Fells sink down into a carpet of verdure, is the little village of Staveley, with its modest house of prayer in which good old Edmund Law,[45] the father of a bishop, the grandfather of two bishops and a Lord Chief Justice, and the great-grandfather of a Governor General of India (Lord Ellenborough), ministered for half a century in consideration of the modest stipend of £20 a year.

But we are wandering from our story, for it is not Newby Bridge and its surroundings, but Cartmel and its venerable priory church—the only monastic institution that escaped mutilation when the Defender of the Faith suppressed the religious houses—that now attract our attention. A part of the hamlet of Newby Bridge is in the parish of Cartmel, but the mother church lies on the other side of the Fell, and is at least six miles distant. If the visitor is stout in lung and strong of limb he cannot do better than make the journey afoot, taking the way over the breezy moors, where every turn of the roads reveals some new object of interest, and when he has scaled the last ascent he can look down into the peaceful valley, at the bottom of which the quaint old village with its ancient church, almost cathedral-like in its proportions, may be seen nestling in serene seclusion. The less adventurous will find a more easy way by rail from Lakeside to Ulverstone, and thence to Cark or Grange, from which places it is distant a couple of miles or so, though, to our thinking, the pleasantest way is to secure the box-seat on Mr. Rigg's coach, which calls every day at the "Swan" on the way to and from Grange. You are sure of a capital team and a chatty and communicative driver, who knows all the places of interest about, and possesses an inexhaustible fund of anecdote. For a distance of three miles the road is a continuous ascent, the country presenting little else than an undulating expanse of wild moors, relieved in places with plantations of fir and larch. At Newton, a little straggling village, cold, bleak, and stony looking, you come in sight of the valley through which flows the Winster, the Milnthorp Sands, and the broad expanse of Morecambe Bay. Then the road begins to descend; Buck Crag, at the foot of which Edmund Law had his dwelling, is on the left; presently the pretty little hamlet of Lindale—the scene of one of Mrs. Gaskell's most charming stories—is reached, after which you pass beneath the wooded heights of Blawith and Aggerslack, and a few minutes later reach the seaside village of Grange. From this place the walk is about three miles, and a good part of it is uphill. Passing along the steep straggling street that comprises what ever there is of town, you reach the church, a modest little Gothic structure crowning a grassy knoll that overlooks the bay, the groves of Yew-barrow, and the long stretch of coast that sweeps round by Silverdale and Carnforth towards the Lune. Here the road tends to the right, skirting the slopes of Hampsfell, on the summit of which is the well-known "Hospice," a square stone tower, built by a former incumbent of Cartmel, the Rev. Thomas Remington, for the comfort and convenience of those who traverse the lonely fell. Continuing for some distance along a pleasant tree-shaded lane, where the scenery is fresh at every turn, you come presently to the summit of the high ground where the road divides, one path leading to Allithwaite, another to Cark, and the third, taking a northerly course, descends into the vale of Cartmel. Hedgerows border the way, alternating now and then with patches of stone wall, grey and jagged and lichen-stained, and half hidden in places with copse and brushwood. On the left the slope is steep, and at the bottom a small stream—the Ea—winds its way freakishly in and out, circling with playful eddies round the moss-clad stones that Nature's careless hand has strewn along its channel, and then hurrying on to go with the Leven to the sea. The plumy woods about Holker come well in view, and in front are the green acclivities of Broughton, backed by a cluster of swelling hills, with the Furness Fells and the range about Coniston—the Alt Maen or Old Man and its hoary companions stretching away into the shadowy distance. We meet few wayfarers, and, with the exception of a solitary homestead or two, we do not see a house until we come close upon the town. Near the entrance, on the left, is a small, unpretending building, half chapel, half school in appearance; a meeting house of the Society of Friends, which some would-be humorist has described as a centre of gravity. A few yards further on is the village school, and, passing this, we enter the town, which comprises a few groups of houses scattered irregularly round the grand old priory church, the lofty battlemented walls of which, whitened by the storms of six hundred years, tower above them with an air of solemn grandeur. It is a secluded out-of-the-world sort of place, with a quaintness about it that almost leads you to believe it has seen little change since William Mareschall, Earl of Pembroke, in the year 1188, gave its lands to the monks of the order of St Augustine—the same earl whose name is brought before us in Shakespeare's "King John," and whose recumbent effigy may still be seen in the round tower of the Temple Church in London.

Antiquaries tell us that the name Cartmel is of British origin,[46] and signifies the entrenched camp of fortification among the fells, an opinion that is in some measure borne out by the number of British as well as Roman antiquities that have been discovered at different times. The site of the camp is supposed to have been in the fields on the bank of the little river Ea, now called the Beck, a little to the north-west of the church, and which to this day are known as the Castle Meadows. The earliest mention we have of it is in the Life of St. Cuthbert, written by one of the monkish historians, from which it appears that some time between the years 677 and 685, Ecgfrith, King of the Northumbrian Angles, having conquered Cumberland, Westmoreland, and the adjoining districts, gave to Cuthbert, whom he had caused to be consecrated Bishop of Lindisfarne, "the whole of the lands called Cartmel, with all the Britons in it," a phrase which goes to show that, though the aboriginal Britons had been reduced to slavery by their Saxon oppressors, they had for two centuries and a half been permitted to retain their ancient home among the hills of this wild and almost insulated tract of country. From this time a chasm of something like five centuries occurs in the history. Whether the monks retained possession of the lands after the death of Cuthbert, or whether the place was ravaged by the Danish invaders, is not known with certainty, but, as no mention of it occurs in the Doomsday Survey, it is not unreasonable to assume that the place had been laid waste during some of the Danish incursions, and the church which Cuthbert reared destroyed. There is, however, undoubted evidence that a religious establishment existed at Cartmel before the priory church was founded, several of the deeds conveying lands to the neighbouring Abbey of Furness being attested by ecclesiastics of Cartmel; for example, in 1135 the name of "Willelmus Clericus de Kertmel" appears as witness to a deed of gift, and in 1155 that of "Uccheman, Parsona de Chertmel," occurs in a like capacity.

Some time during the reign of the lion-hearted King, Richard the First, William, Earl of Pembroke, influenced by the spirit of the times, conceived the idea of founding a house for a fraternity of canons regular of the order of St. Augustine, the brotherhood being so named to distinguish them from those secular canons who abandoned the practice of living in community. To carry out his purpose he obtained from John, Earl of Morteign, afterwards King John, a grant of lands in Cartmel for the permanent endowment of his house. Here tradition comes upon the scene, and with the warm colouring of romance fills in the cold outlines of historic fact. As in many other places, a marvellous story is related of the way in which Earl Pembroke's pious canons discovered and were led to make choice of this green nook hidden away among the bleak mountain solitudes. Wandering about, it is said, in search of a settlement, they somehow or other found their way into this remote corner of Lancashire, where they discovered a hill commanding an agreeable prospect and suitable in every way for their purpose. Having marked out their foundation, they were proceeding to build, when a mysterious voice was heard directing them to remove to another locality, described as "a valley between two rivers, where the one runs north and the other south." Why the particular spot was not more clearly defined the old monkish chroniclers have omitted to tell us, but the poor homeless fathers in obedience to the supernatural command, abandoned their work, and wandered up and down in search of a spot answering to the description so vaguely given. Failing in their efforts, they determined on retracing their steps; plodding their way wearily through the tangled forests, they eventually reached the pleasant vale of Cartmel, when, to their joy, they came unexpectedly upon a small stream, the flow of which was towards the north, and, crossing it, they arrived presently at another running in the opposite direction, the hill which they had originally selected being in close proximity. Here, then, midway between the two streams, they determined on erecting their church, dedicating it when completed to the Virgin. Afterwards they built a small chapel on the hill where they had heard the mysterious voice, dedicating it to St. Bernard, though St. Vox, if there is such a saint in the Roman calendar, would have been more appropriate. The church remains a lasting monument of their architectural skill, but the chapel has long since disappeared, though the tree-clad hill on which it stood still retains the name of St. Bernard's Mount.

Leaving the shadowy realm of legend and romance, and confining ourselves to the prosaic facts of history, we find that in 1188, when the pious Pembroke endowed the religious house at Cartmel, he directed that it should be free and released from all subjection to any other house. With the view of preventing its ever being transformed into an abbey he further directed that from time to time, on the death of a prior, the canons should select two of their number and present them to him as the patron, or his heirs, and from them should be chosen the one that should serve as prior in succession, and who should have the name and office of prior only, and that an abbey should never be made of the Priory, the charter of foundation concluding in these words:—"This house have I founded for the increase of holy religion, giving and conceding to it every kind of liberty that the mouth can utter or the heart of man conceive: whosoever, therefore, shall cause loss or injury to the said house or its immunities, may he incur the curse of God, and of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and of all the other saints of God, besides my particular malediction." How far the invoked curses of the Blessed Virgin or the "particular malediction" of William Earl of Pembroke tended to the protection of the Priory of Cartmel we shall hereafter see.

William Mareschall, Earl of Pembroke, the founder of the Priory of Cartmel, was a notable personage, and filled a large space in the history of his generation. His first wife was a daughter of the redoubtable Strongbow, the real conqueror of Ireland, and the one who in the reign of Henry II. first brought that country under the dominion of the English Crown. After her death, he married for his second wife a daughter of that faithless tyrant King John, a fortunate circumstance for both King and country, for the Earl became the trusted adviser of the sovereign, and by his tact and judgment won from him the great charter of English liberties, and in so doing enabled the recreant monarch to retain his crown.

When Pembroke founded his Priory of Canons at Cartmel the sturdy old warrior and statesman made ample provision for its future maintenance, for he endowed it with the manor and all his lands in the district of Cartmel, together with the advowson of the then existing church, the funds of that more ancient ecclesiastical foundation being merged in the Priory revenues, the parishioners in turn being permitted to retain a part of the Priory as their parish church, and one of the canons being required to officiate as their priest. The earl further bestowed upon his foundation the fishery of the Kaen, the church of Balifar, and chapel of Balunadan with its appendages, and the town of Kinross in Ireland, with the advowson of its church and all that pertained thereto. The "Priory of the Blessed Virgin Mary of Kartmele," as it was anciently written, was subsequently enriched by many grants, donations, and other "offerings of the faithful." When King John ascended the throne he confirmed by Royal charter the foundation grant of the Earl of Pembroke, the only thing he did for his son-in-law's foundation, for that not very religious, or at all events not very scrupulous, monarch was more anxious to "shake the bags of the hoarding abbots" than to add to their contents, and if we except the Abbey of Beaulieu, in Hampshire, and the monastery of Hales Owen, in Shropshire, there is no record of his having either founded or endowed any religious house during his lifetime. The charter confirming the foundation grant also ratified the gift of Gilbert de Boelton of lands on the rocky promontory of Hunfride-heved, or Humphrey Head as it is now called, where, as tradition affirms, the last wolf in England was hunted down; and also an acre of land there and the close of Kirkepoll, the present Kirkhead, which one Simon, the son of Ukeman, had bestowed.

William de Walton was appointed the first prior of the newly-founded house. Settling down in this quiet green nook in Lancashire—the very spot for a life of religious seclusion—under the protection of their pious patron, the powerful Pembroke, the fraternity continued to lead a life of sanctity and single-blessedness, and on the whole they must have had rather a pleasant time of it, for, if history is to be relied on, the monotony of a religious life was varied by a considerate attention to their worldly well-being; they tilled their lands, made home improvements, now and then they busied themselves in building a grange in which to garner their produce, and occasionally a mill, where they and their tenants might grind their corn. The prior seems to have been early imbued with the principles of free trade, for as far back as the year 1203 we find him "obtaining letters patent" empowering him to export corn from his possessions in Ireland; later on we find the same worthy in a court of law defending his fishery rights, when Ralph de Bethom had been poaching in the waters of the Kaen, and it would be unjust to the memory of the fraternity to say that they ever neglected any opportunity of augmenting the privileges or the wealth of their house. Numerous additions to the original endowments were made by pious benefactors, and, as an incentive to benevolent effort, Walter Gray, Abbot of York, promised an indulgence of twenty days of pardon to all who should charitably relieve with their goods the fabric of the church of St. Mary, of "Kertmell."

In 1233, Cartmel having submitted to the authority of the Holy Roman Father, received a special mark of his paternal regard. Among the duchy muniments, transferred some years ago to the Record Office, London, is a Papal Bull of protection granted by Gregory IX. "to his beloved children the Prior of St. Mary of Karmel and to his brethren, present and future, professing the religious life for ever." Mr. Herford, the editor of the second volume of Baines's "Lancashire," has given a careful translation of this remarkable document, which is of considerable length. It begins with the declaration that "It is fit that apostolic succour should attend those who choose the religious life, lest by chance some fit of rashness should call them back from what they have proposed, or take away the sacred power of religion. Therefore my chosen children in the Lord, we graciously assent to your just request, and have taken the Church of the Holy Mother of God, the Virgin Mary of Kermel, in which ye are engaged in divine service, under the protection of the blessed Peter and ourselves, and favour you with the privilege of the present writing." The grant then decrees that the church shall enjoy certain immunities, ordains that the canonical orders of St. Augustine shall be observed, and confirms to the church all its possessions, and, further, gives licence to perform, during a general interdict, religious service, provided it was done in a low voice and without ringing of bells, those interdicted and excommunicated being excluded, and the doors kept closed—a general interdict being the occasion when, under the orders of the Sovereign Pontiff, public prayers and all ecclesiastical rites were to be laid aside, the sacraments to be no longer administered, except to infants and dying persons, and the dead to be cast into ditches by the wayside without any religious ceremonial. Power was also given to prohibit the building of any chapel or oratory within the limits of the parish, and any ecclesiastic or layman knowingly contravening the provisions of the Bull was threatened with the terrors of excommunication.

During the palmy days of its prosperity the head of the house at Cartmel was an important personage; his priory not only held the privilege of exemption from general interdicts, but he himself was free from the various spiritual and temporal ills that monastic flesh was heir to, and had, moreover, the right of holding his court and trying and deciding disputes within the manor, with liberty to inflict punishment upon offenders; and when his claim was disputed, as it was in 1292, though the rights to wreck of the sea and waifs which he had claimed were declared forfeit to the King, his demand of the privileges of sok, sak, tol, theam, infangthef, and utfangthef, as they are expressed in the jargon of the day, was conceded, which means that he was entitled to the privileges of a manorial lord to hold the pleas in his own court in matters arising out of disputes with his own tenants; of imposing fines therein and enforcing his decrees; of judging bondsmen and villeins as well as of punishing thieves found within his own lands, and requiring that those dwelling within his manor, if taken for felony beyond, be tried within his own court.

The time was, however, approaching when the iron rod of this disposer of the lives and liberties of those settled around him was to be broken in pieces and the people delivered from priestly domination. A mighty change in religious thought and action was taking place which gradually gained strength, and culminated in that great event which swept like a tornado over the land when the once zealous champion of the Romish system, to replenish his exhausted exchequer, became the plunderer of the Church that had bestowed on him the title of "Defender of the Faith," and swept away prior and abbot, pride, pomp and power, and shrines and relics from their ancient and accustomed places.

In 1535 the King ordered a general visitation of the religious houses. In the autumn of that year Leyton, Lee, and Petre, with Dr. John London, Dean of Wallingford, the commissioners, made their appearance and summoned the prior and monks to give an account of their worldly possessions. In the MS. surveys then made the total income varies in amount from £89 4s. 7d. to £91 6s. 3d., while Speed, the antiquary, rates it at £124 2s. 1d., the lowest computation being equal to an annual income of £2,141 10s. at the present day. In the following year the Act was passed confiscating to the Crown all the religious houses whose yearly income did not amount to £200, and Cartmel was included in the list of those doomed by the King. We need not dwell upon the way in which the Royal tyrant's edict went forth, or how the good and the bad, the honest and the corrupt, among the religious houses were ordered to be dismantled.

The brotherhood of Cartmel, however, made a vigorous protest against this invasion of their rights, and petitioned for a new survey on the ground that the previous valuation did not include the whole of the sources from which their income was derived. Commissioners were again sent down, when the Prior presented a return which included the income derived from lands and the tithes collected at the tithe-barns of Godderside, Flookburgh, and Allithwaite, and also the oblations made "at the Relyke of the Holy Crosse," preserved within their Priory Church, the total revenue being thus increased from £89 4s. 7d. to £212 12s. 10d. A copy of this survey is preserved among the Duchy Records in the Record Office, and is especially interesting from the circumstance of its giving the names of the canons on the foundation at that time, the number and names of the servants, artificers, and husbandmen employed about the establishment, with the nature of their respective occupations. Richard Preston was then the prior, and "of the age of forty-one yerys;" James Eskerige was sub-prior, and there were in addition eight canons. The "waytyng s'v'ntes" numbered ten "wayters," two "woodeleaders," two "shep'des," and one hunter. The "comon officers and artyfycers of the house" included the brewer, baker, barber, cook "skulyan," "butler of the ffratrye," "keeper of the woode," milner, ffysher, wryght, pulter, ffestman, and maltmaker, with two others whose occupations are obliterated in the manuscript, and in addition to these there were eight hinds, making a total of thirty-eight, in addition to the ten ecclesiastics, a number that seems out of proportion to the religious inmates of the house, notwithstanding that there were considerable demesne lands under cultivation. But the protestations of the Prior were of little avail. Thomas Holcroft had conceived a desire to become owner of the groves of Cartmel, and that mighty trafficker in church lands was a man not easily moved from his purpose; Cartmel was doomed, and Richard Preston had no choice but to surrender his high trust or run the risk of being hanged at the gate of his own Priory, as some ecclesiastics were who hesitated to avow their belief that Henry VIII. was God's vicegerent on earth, or who refused to voluntarily give up to his minions the fair places that had been their homes to become wanderers like so many Cains over the face of the earth.

Though the Act which authorised the suppression of the Priory was passed in April, 1536, it was not until the following year that the King's Commissioners proceeded to the accomplishment of their task. The Earls of Derby and Sussex, with their satellites, Southwell, Tunstall, Leybourne, Byron, Sandford, and Holcroft, were deputed to undertake the work; fit instruments they were, and very effectually they accomplished their purpose. They demolished the walls of the cloisters and levelled to the dust the other portions of the monastic buildings which then extended across the river on arches up to the tower gateway, the only vestige of the house which now remains. The work of destruction fell less heavily upon the church, not because it was less suited to the purposes of the levellers, but because it was parochial as well as monastic, and the parishioners claimed it as belonging to them, though it must be confessed they had not done much to entitle them to consideration at the hands of the rapacious Henry. If tradition is to be relied on, they had urged their prior to join the insurrection instigated by the northern monks, commonly known as the "Pilgrimage of Grace," but that cautious and time-serving ecclesiastic fled to Preston, where the Earl of Derby was engaged raising an army for the suppression of the revolt, and claimed his protection, returning to his Priory only to be a few short months later ejected from it for ever. When the parishioners interposed, pleading that the church was parochial and therefore beyond the control of his Majesty's Commissioners, the matter was referred to head-quarters in these words:—

Item, for ye Church of Cartmell, being the Priorie and also ye P'ich Church, whether to stand unplucked down or not?

Answer—Ord. by Mr. Chancellor of the Duchie to stand styll.

It'm, for a suet of coopes (suit of copes) claymed by ye inhabitants of Cartmell to belong to ye Church thereof, the gift of oon Brigg?

Answer—Ord. that the P'ochians shall have them styll.

Item, for a chales (chalice), a Masse Booke, a Vestyment, with other things necessarie for a P'sh Church claymed by saide P'ochians to be customablie found by ye P'son of said Church?

No answer.

Though the commissioners were restrained in their "unplucking down" of the church, much havoc and destruction had been done to the sacred fane before their hands were stayed. They destroyed the painted windows, mutilated the carved work, stripped off the roof of the Piper choir and other parts of the fabric, and thus effectually got rid of the inmates, and in that state the church was allowed to remain for a period of eighty years, when Mr. George Preston, of Holker, with some assistance from the parishioners, repaired the dilapidated edifice generally, and decorated the inside with a stuccoed ceiling, and the choir and chancel with a profusion of curiously and elaborately carved wood work.

In 1541 Henry VIII. granted the site of the Priory to Thomas Holcroft, an unscrupulous agent whom an unscrupulous master afterwards knighted, but he did not keep it long, having in 32 Henry VIII. exchanged it with the King for other lands in the south of England, when it again came into possession of the Crown as part of the Duchy of Lancaster, and so continued until the time of Charles I., when, with other lands forming part of the manor of Cartmel, which had been granted by King James to Thomas Emmerson and Richard Cowdall, it was conveyed to George, son of Christopher Preston, of Holker, whose great-granddaughter Katharine conveyed it in marriage to Sir William Lowther; and her grandson, also Sir William Lowther, dying issueless in 1756, the property passed to his cousin, Lord George Augustus Cavendish, from whom it has descended with other Cartmel property to the present Duke of Devonshire, who is also patron and lay rector; the advowson with the tithes of Cartmel, which, in 1561, were annexed to the see of Chester, having been granted in 1561 by the Bishop of Chester to the George Preston, of Holker, before named.

Cartmel has a quiet, staid respectable aspect, with a dignified and decorous serenity about it that almost leads you to believe the old place must be conscious of its claim to consideration. You might fancy it to be a minster town, the air of cloisteral seclusion that prevails so well according with the superiorities of the church. Many of the houses have an old-world look about them, and, with a searching eye, you may find bits of unmistakable antiquity—random corners and architectural phantasies—enough to store the note-book of any artist fond of crooked and accidental diversities of grouping. The market place, which, with one or two straggling streets, constitutes what there is of town, is an irregular square with a tall stone obelisk that serves the double purpose of market cross and lamp-post standing in the middle; the fish stones are on one side, and surrounding it are a few old-fashioned dwellings ranged in an in-and-out sort of fashion, as if elbowing one another for frontage. On market days, when the farmers and the country people come in from the surrounding villages, the place puts on an air of bustle and activity, but at other times it is quiet and dreamy enough for the grass to grow upon the pavement. But for a chance pilgrim from Grange or Cark you might look in vain for a passer by; the people, too, seem as if the railway had not yet accustomed them to the novelty of strange faces, for as you go by they peer at you from their windows, and the shopkeeper who deals in groceries, drapery, and hardware, and everything besides, comes out on to his doorstep to gaze after you, wondering what possible business can have brought a stranger to such a secluded by-way of the world.

On one side of the square is a picturesque relic of the middle ages, the ancient gateway that once formed the principal approach to the conventual buildings. It has fallen from its former dignity and been roughly dealt with by the modern Goths and Vandals, but in its forlorn and dilapidated state it retains the unmistakable hoariness of age upon it. The walls are of considerable thickness, and within them are queer recesses and secret passages that were, doubtless, intended for safety in time of danger. The groining of the arch has disappeared, and it is now covered with a coating of plaster; the niche which, doubtless, once contained the image of the Virgin is tenantless, and the window lighting the room in which it is said the priors of Cartmel were wont to hold their manorial court and deal out a rough and ready kind of justice to their tenantry has lost its mullions, though happily the trefoil carvings still remain. After the prior and his canons had been turned adrift, the old gatehouse was purchased by the inhabitants from George Preston for the sum of £30 and converted into a "publike schoole-house," and for a period of one hundred and sixty-six years,—from 1624 to 1790, when another school was built—it continued to be used for that purpose, the children aforetime having been taught in the church by a "scriphener."

From the gateway you can trace the outer walls and note the general arrangement of the priory buildings, the area comprising all being about twenty-two statute acres.

But the old Priory Church is the great attraction of Cartmel. It is a noble monument of architectural skill, and we may thank the guardians of the centuries that the hand of Time has been restrained from pressing heavily upon it. It overshadows every other building, and gives an air of dignity and importance to the humble erections that gather round. Let us take our stand by the low wall that forms the boundary of the quiet graveyard while we gaze upon the venerable fabric and drink in the genius of the place. It is an October evening, and the sun is sinking like a great red ball behind the darkening hills; the woods are touched with russet and gold, and though the air is breathlessly calm a few leaves flutter down from the trees that skirt the churchyard wall. The ancient fane is worth going far to see—a huge pile of masonry, grey with age, and picturesque by its very diversities of style. It is cruciform in plan, with a low square tower—low by comparison, for the apex of the nave roof is nearly as high—rising from the intersection of the cross to a height of 85ft., and surmounted by another tower of smaller dimensions, also square in plan, but placed diagonally to the base of the lower one, as if it were an afterthought of the builder's, an arrangement so unusual that your attention is arrested by its oddness. The western front is good, but the master work is the choir, with its majestic window of nine lofty mullioned lights, and richly traceried head, 40ft. in height, and occupying nearly the whole of the eastern gable. A cursory glance is sufficient to show that the building has been erected at different periods—Norman and Early English—Decorated and Perpendicular mingling in curious combination. How thoroughly the old monastic builders understood their work. Whatever may have been their faults and frailties, they were imbued with a noble enthusiasm which in its religious development found vent in the sublime conceptions embodied in the magnificent structures which adorn the land, and which illustrate the rise, the progress, and the decay of Gothic art. Unfettered by the rules which curb and restrain the hand of the architect of modern days, their genius imparted its own spirit to the hand of the mason, whose skill is manifested in the glorious creations which command our admiration by the vastness of their proportions, the simple grace and beauty of their design, and the elegance of their ornamentation; while their sculptures and carvings, in which burlesque and satire oftentimes ran riot, were marked by a quaintness of conceit, every touch of the chisel seeming to impart a life and character and spirit that you look for in vain in the productions of the craftsman of modern times. Look with loving eyes upon the grand old pile as it reposes in the evening sunshine; a saintly stillness prevails, and a soft, shadowy haze is gradually shrouding the distant landscape from view. The mellowing light, as it falls on battlement and buttress, corbel and gargoyle, brings out every projection and inequality with wondrous effect, and softens into beauty every scar and furrow which the corrosive hand of Time has made upon it. You long to linger upon the scene, and not without a wish that Time would retrace his steps and show you the place as it was in its pristine glory before the men of religion had begun "to draw too proud a breath" and General Aske and his 40,000 ragamuffins had entered upon that perilous enterprise "the Pilgrimage of Grace."

But our reverie is cut short; for while we have been gazing upon the scene of quiet beauty, William Lancaster, the parish clerk, has left his saddlery and brought his keys, in order to show us over the fabric, and an intelligent and companionable guide he is, neither fussy nor obtrusive, but possessing a fund of reliable information that is serviceable to the stranger who wishes to spend a pleasant hour in examining the details.

The first thought that strikes the visitor on entering is the loftiness of the interior, and the long perspective of the nave and choir. The pillars which support the central tower are of Norman character and of massive proportions, the arches springing from them being pointed and of somewhat later date. In the centre of the roof is a panel with the inscription, Gloria in Excelsis Deo Aedif., 1188. Renov. 1850, upon a garter, and on the other parts are four heraldic shields, on which are blazoned the arms of (1) William Mareschall, Earl of Pembroke, the founder; (2) the Prestons, of Holker; (3) the archiepiscopal see of York; and (4) the arms of the see of Carlisle. The inscription on the centre panel shows that the church was renovated in 1850. The work has been thorough and complete, under the direction of Mr. Paley, of Lancaster, who, while carefully retaining whatever was worth preserving, has succeeded in bringing to light many interesting features that were previously hidden from view, and has thus entitled himself to the gratitude of every lover of mediæval art. The flat ceilings have been removed, the galleries cleared away, the walls stripped of their plaster covering, the triforium arcade reopened, and the carved masonry relieved of the paint and whitewash with which successive generations of churchwardens had industriously clogged every bit of ornament they could find, so that the building now presents much the same appearance that it must have done in its palmy days. The choir is of unusually large dimensions, and worthy almost of a cathedral. It is separated from the chapels by two circular arches of Norman character, with elaborately ornamented mouldings; above them is a fine triforium arcade of twenty-two pointed arches on each side, springing from cylindrical shafts, with a passage running behind that seems to have been originally carried round the east end. The grand east window contains some remains of ancient glass, sufficient to show how exquisitely beautiful it must have been ere "Maister Thomas Houlcrofte" and his myrmidons made such havoc with it. The reredos occupying the space between the sill of the window and the top of the communion table is divided into panels and filled in with a series of frescoes in gold and colour that display considerable artistic skill; they are the work of Lady Louisa Egerton, the wife of Captain Egerton, R.N., and daughter of the Duke of Devonshire. An interesting feature in the choir is the series of stalls, twenty-six in number, that were used by the canons before the priory was dissolved; they are of Perpendicular character and handsomely carved, though unfortunately the ornamentation has been much injured by exposure to the weather during the long years the church remained unroofed. Each stall has its miserere or projecting bracket on the under side of the seat, which, as was customary in pre-Reformation times, works upon a kind of hinge, so that when turned up it would, without actually forming a seat, afford considerable relief to the ecclesiastics during those long services of the Roman Catholic Church in which they were required to remain in a standing posture. These seats will well repay examination; each is elaborately carved, and the artist has given full play to his fancy. One of them displays the emblems of the Saviour's Passion, but, in addition to the usual crown of thorns and the nails, we have the ear which Peter struck off the head of the High Priest's servant, the sword with which that rash act was performed, the basin in which Pilate washed his hands, the dice with which the soldiers cast lots for the Saviour's vesture, and the sponge that, when filled with vinegar, was presented to him while on the cross. Another seat symbolises the Trinity by the carving of three faces on one head; the favourite device of the mermaid with the usual attributes—the comb and mirror—also appears, and a common subject of mediæval sculpture—a pelican feeding its young, or "in piety," as the heralds phrase it—is also represented. The other carvings are for the most part grotesque heads, winged beasts, and foliage. The canopies over the stalls are of much later date, and were the gift of George Preston, of Holker, who in 1619 repaired and re-roofed the building. The columns supporting them have richly carved Corinthian capitals, and are interesting as showing that in that comparatively early period the classic forms of ornamentation had come into vogue in this remote corner of Lancashire, and that Grecian had then begun to take the place of Gothic art.

The year 1850 marked the inauguration of a happy era in the history of Cartmel; it was that in which the much-needed renovation of the church may be said to have begun. The zeal which prompted George Preston in 1616 to restore the ruined sanctuary to something like its pristine beauty found imitators. In that year Mr. Remington, the vicar, appealed for funds to enable him to put the decayed and crumbling edifice in a state of decent repair. His appeal was liberally responded to, and he had the satisfaction of seeing many of the hideous obstructions which past ages had crowded together removed, the flat plaster ceiling which disfigured the centre of the church cleared away, and the walls and pillars denuded of their accumulations of paint and whitewash. The work which he began was carried on with increased energy by his successor, Mr. Hubbersty, and extended throughout the nave and the north and south transepts. The progress was slow, but continuous; seventeen years were occupied upon it, and in the autumn of 1867 it was pronounced to be complete.