From John O'Groats to Land's End - Part 42
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Part 42

King James I. King Charles I.

He died the thirteenth and was buried at Westminster Abbey on the fifteenth November 1635 Age 152 years and 9 months.

John Taylor, known as the Water Poet because he was a Thames waterman, who was born in 1580, and died in 1656, was a contemporary of Parr, and wrote a book in 1635, the same year that old Parr died, ent.i.tled _The Olde, Olde, very Olde Man_, in which he described Thomas Parr as an early riser, sober, and industrious:

Though old age his face with wrinkles fill.

He hath been handsome and is comely still; Well-faced, and though his Beard not oft corrected Yet neate it grows, not like a Beard neglected.

Earl Arundel told King Charles I about this very old man, and he expressed a desire to see him; so the earl arranged to have him carried to London. When the men reached old Parr's cottage, which is still standing, they found an old man sitting under a tree, apparently quite done. Feeling sure that he was the man they wanted, they roused him up, and one said, "We have come for you to take you to the King!" The old man looked up at the person who spoke to him, and replied, "Hey, mon!

it's not me ye want! it's me feyther!" "Your father!" they said, in astonishment; "where is he?" "Oh, he's cuttin' th' hedges!" So they went as directed, and found a still older man cutting away at a hedge in the small field adjoining the cottage, and him they took, together with his daughter, for whom the earl had provided a horse. Musicians also went with him, and it was supposed that he was exhibited at the different towns they called at on their way to London, and such was the crush to see him in Coventry that the old man narrowly escaped being killed. When he was taken into the presence of King Charles, the king said, "Well, Parr, you've lived a long time," and Parr answered, "Yes I have, your Majesty." "What do you consider the princ.i.p.al event in your long life?"

asked the king, to which Parr replied that he hardly knew, but mentioned some offence which he had committed when he was a hundred years old, and for which he had to do penance in Alberbury Church, with the young woman sitting beside him barefooted, and dressed in white clothing! Whereupon King Charles said, "Oh, fie, fie, Parr, telling us of your faults and not your virtues!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: OLD PARR'S COTTAGE.]

Parr was feted in London to such an extent that he died of surfeit, and was buried in the Poets' Corner in Westminster Abbey, where his tombstone still exists, and is inscribed:

Thomas Parr of Y'E County of Sallop Borne in A'P 1483. He lived in Y'E Reignes of Ten Princes VIZ:-- K. Edw. 4. K. Edw. 5. K. Rich. 3.

K. Hen. 7. K. Hen. 8. K. Edw. 6.

Q. Ma. Q. Eliz. K. Ja. & K. Charles Aged 152 Years & was buried Here Novemb. 15. 1635.

His portrait was painted by Van Dyck, who at that time was the Court painter of King Charles I, and there were other oil paintings of him in various places in England and abroad.

(_Distance walked thirty-one miles_.)

_Friday, November 3rd._

[Ill.u.s.tration: ST. MICHAEL'S CHURCH, COVENTRY.]

Our hotel was quite near the Coventry Parish Church dedicated to St.

Michael, which was said to be the largest parish church in England, so we went out early this morning to visit it. We found it to be a very fine church, and in it we saw some workmen erecting a beautiful stained-gla.s.s window in which they had already placed the likeness of two saints, one of whom was St. Ambrose. We wondered why they should be putting such images in what we supposed to be the Reformed Church of England. The men told us we should find a very fine stained-gla.s.s window across the way in St. Mary's Hall, which had been erected in the time of Henry VI, and was originally the work of John Thornton of Coventry, who also had charge of the erection of the famous east window we had already seen in York Minster. We only saw the exterior of the windows in St.

Mary's Hall, as we could not find any door that was open, so we hurried away to form the acquaintance of "Peeping Tom," whose image we had come so many miles to see. We found him high up on a corner of a street as if looking down on the pa.s.sers-by below. The building in which he appeared was doing duty as a public-house, so we went in and saw the landlord, to whom we explained the nature of our visit and journey, and he kindly conducted us up the steps to the small room at the top of the house where Peeping Tom was to be seen. He was a repulsive-looking image of humanity, made of wood, without arms, and with a hideous face; how long he had occupied his present position no one knew, but as we had seen images of wood made hundreds of years ago, we were willing to suppose that he was a relic of antiquity. Photography at the time of our visit was only in its infancy, but small cards, 4 inches long by 2-1/2 inches wide, with photographic views on them, were beginning to make their appearance--picture postcards being then unknown. On our tour we collected a number of these small cards, which were only to be found in the more populous places. In our case we were able to get one at Coventry of Peeping Tom, a facsimile of which we here produce. We did not stay long in his company, for we looked upon him as an ugly and disreputable character, but hurried back to our hotel for a good breakfast before starting on our walk to the country of Shakespeare.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PEEPING TOM AT HIS WINDOW.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: PEEPING TOM.]

The dull days of November were now upon us, which might account to some extent for the sleepy appearance of the old town of Coventry; but it appeared that underlying all this was a feeling of great depression caused by the declining state of its two staple industries--watches and silk. The manufacture of watches had been established here for many years, for as early as 1727 the archives recorded that a watch-maker had been appointed Mayor of Coventry, and for anything we knew the manufacture of silk might have been quite as old an industry there; but the compet.i.tion of American and Swiss watches was making itself seriously felt, and the Treaty with France which admitted French silks into England, duty free, was still more disastrous, causing much apprehension for the future prosperity of the "good old town."

We lost a little time before starting, as my brother had seen something in a shop window that he wanted to buy, but having forgotten the exact position of the shop, we had to search diligently until we found it. It was quite an artistic bookmarker made of white silk, with ornamental bordering in colours which blended sweetly, enclosing a scroll, or unfolding banner, which only displayed one word at each fold:

The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.

I never knew what became of that book-mark until years later, after he was married, when I saw it in his family Bible, and then I could guess where it had been in the interval. I noticed also that he began to quicken his speed considerably, and to be inclined to walk farther each day, his explanation being that we were obliged to make up for lost time. I also noticed that he wrote more notes in his diary in shorthand, his knowledge of which I envied. He said that before he started on the journey he imagined he knew the history of England, but had now become convinced that he had it all to learn, and he thought the best way to learn it thoroughly was by walking from John o' Groat's to Land's End.

[Ill.u.s.tration: KENILWORTH CASTLE FROM THE BRIDGE.]

A story was once told of two commercial travellers who had travelled extensively, and were asked to write down the prettiest road in all England, and one of them wrote "from Kenilworth to Coventry" and the other wrote "from Coventry to Kenilworth"! This was the road on which we had now to walk to reach what was known as "Shakespeare's country."

There were many pretty roads in England, and although this road was very fine, being wide and straight and pa.s.sing through a richly wooded country, we had seen many prettier roads as regarded scenery. We soon arrived at the historical Castle of Kenilworth, which, judging from the extent of its ruins and lofty towers, must at one time have been a magnificent place. According to local history the castle was originally built in the reign of Henry I, and at one time it was in the possession of Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, who was born in 1206, and who has been described as the "Father of English Parliaments." Henry belonged to the Plantagenet family, the reigning house from Henry II in 1154 to Richard III, who was killed at the Battle of Bosworth Field in 1485. The strangest history in that family appeared to be that of Eleanor Plantagenet, the daughter of Henry II, who caused her to be married when only four years old to the great Earl of Pembroke, who was then forty, and who took her as a bride to his home when she was only fourteen years old, leaving her a widow at sixteen. She was thrown into such an agony of grief that she took a solemn vow in the presence of the Archbishop of Canterbury never to marry again, but to become a bride of Christ. Seven years afterwards, however, she returned to the Court of her brother, who was then Henry III, and, meeting Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, the king's favourite, one of the most handsome and accomplished of courtiers, to whom he had given Kenilworth Castle, the widowed countess forgot her vow, and though solemnly warned by the Archbishop of the peril of breaking her oath, Montfort easily persuaded Henry to give him his sister in marriage. The king knew that both the Church and the barons would be violently opposed to the match, and that they could only be married secretly; so on one cold January morning in 1238 they were married in the king's private chapel at Windsor; but the secret soon became known to the priests and the peers, and almost provoked a civil war. The Princess Eleanor was not happy, as her husband, who had lost the favour of her brother the king, was ultimately killed in the cause of freedom, along with her eldest son, at the Battle of Evesham. He was the first to create a Parliament.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ELIZABETH, QUEEN OF ENGLAND.]

In the year 1206 a festival was held at Kenilworth, attended by one hundred knights of distinction, and the same number of ladies, at which silks were worn for the first time in England, and in 1327 Edward II was there compelled to sign his abdication in favour of his son. Kenilworth Castle probably attained the zenith of its prosperity in the time of Queen Elizabeth, who in 1563 conferred it upon her favourite, Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, who entertained her there with great magnificence on four different occasions, 1566, 1568, 1572, and 1575.

But the former glory of Kenilworth Castle had departed, and we only saw it in the deplorable condition in which it had been left by Cromwell's soldiers. They had dismantled the lofty towers, drained the lake, destroyed the park, and divided the land into farms, and we looked upon the ruins of the towers, staircases, doorways, and dungeons with a feeling of sorrow and dismay. We could distinguish the great hall, with its chimney-pieces built in the walls; but even this was without either floor or roof, and the rest appeared to us as an unintelligible ma.s.s of decaying stonework. And yet, about half a century before we made our appearance at the ruins, a visitor arrived who could see through them almost at a glance, and restored them in imagination to their former magnificence, as they appeared in the time of Queen Elizabeth. He has described the preparations for the great feast given in her honour in 1575 by the Earl of Leicester, and resuscitated the chief actors in that memorable and magnificent scene. He was described as "a tall gentleman who leaned rather heavily on his walking-stick," and although little notice was taken of him at the time, was none other than the great Sir Walter Scott, whose novel _Kenilworth_ attracted to the neighbourhood crowds of visitors who might never have heard of it otherwise.

We had begun to look upon Sir Walter in the light of an old acquaintance, once formed never to be forgotten, and admired his description of Kenilworth Castle:

The outer wall of this splendid and gigantic structure inclosed seven acres, a part of which was occupied by extensive stables, and by a pleasure garden, with its trim arbours and parterres, and the rest formed a large base-court, or outer yard, of the n.o.ble Castle. The Lordly structure itself, which rose near the centre of this s.p.a.cious enclosure was composed of a huge pile of magnificent castellated buildings, apparently of different ages, surrounding an inner court, and bearing in the names of each portion attached to the magnificent ma.s.s, and in the armorial bearings which were there blazoned, the emblems of mighty chiefs who had long pa.s.sed away, and whose history, could Ambition have lent ear to it, might have read a lesson to the haughty favourite who had now acquired and was augmenting the fair domain. A large and ma.s.sive Keep, which formed the Citadel of the Castle, was of uncertain, though great antiquity. It bore the name of Caesar, perhaps from its resemblance to that in the Tower of London so called. The external wall of this Royal Castle was on the south and west sides adorned and defended by a Lake, partly artificial, across which Leicester had constructed a stately bridge, that Elizabeth might enter the Castle by a path hitherto untrodden. Beyond the Lake lay an extensive Chase, full of red deer, fallow deer, roes, and every species of game, and abounding with lofty trees, from amongst which the extended front and ma.s.sive towers of the Castle were seen to rise in majesty and beauty.

The great feast provided by the Earl of Leicester in honour of the visit of Queen Elizabeth to Kenilworth Castle in 1575 was of a degree of magnificence rarely equalled either before or since, extending continuously over the seventeen days of the queen's stay, beginning at two o'clock, at which time the great clock at the castle was stopped and stood at that hour until the Princess departed. The cost of these ceremonies was enormous, the quant.i.ty of beer alone consumed being recorded as 320 hogsheads.

[Ill.u.s.tration: KENILWORTH CASTLE, LEICESTER BUILDINGS AND CaeSAR'S TOWER.]

Sir Walter describes the preparations for the feast and the heterogeneous nature of the crowd of people who attended it. The resources of the country for miles round were taxed to their utmost, for not only the queen's purveyors, but the Earl of Leicester's household officers had been scouring it in all directions to provide the necessary viands and provisions. The services in this respect of all the leading families had been requisitioned, and--

They took this opportunity of ingratiating themselves by sending large quant.i.ties of provisions and delicacies of all kinds, with game in huge quant.i.ties, and whole tuns of the best liquors, foreign and domestic. Thus the high-roads were filled with droves of bullocks, sheep, calves and hogs, and choked with loaded wains, whose axle-trees creaked under their burdens of wine-casks and hogsheads of ale, and huge hampers of grocery goods, and slaughtered game, and salted provisions, and sacks of flour. Perpetual stoppages took place as these wains became entangled; and their rude drivers, swearing and brawling till their wild pa.s.sions were fully raised, began to debate precedence with their wagon-whips and quarter-staves, which occasional riots were usually quieted by a purveyor, deputy-marshal's man, or some other person in authority breaking the heads of both parties. Here were, besides, players and mummers, jugglers and showmen, of every description, traversing in joyous bands the paths which led to the Palace of Princely Pleasure; for so the travelling minstrels had termed Kenilworth in the songs which already had come forth in antic.i.p.ation of the revels, which were there expected. In the midst of this motley show, mendicants were exhibiting their real or pretended miseries, forming a strange though common contrast betwixt the vanities and the sorrows of human existence. All these floated along with the immense tide of population, whom mere curiosity had drawn together; and where the mechanic, in his leathern ap.r.o.n, elbowed the d.i.n.k and dainty dame, his city mistress; where clowns with hobnailed shoes were treading on the kibes of substantial burghers and gentlemen of worship; and where Joan of the dairy, with robust pace and red st.u.r.dy arms, rowed her way onwards, amongst those prim and pretty moppets, whose sires were knights and squires. The throng and confusion was, however, of a gay and cheerful character. All came forth to see and to enjoy, and all laughed at the trifling inconveniences which at another time might have chafed their temper. Excepting the occasional brawls we have mentioned among that irritable race the Carmen, the mingled sounds which arose from the mult.i.tude were those of light-hearted mirth and tiptoe jollity. The musicians preluded on their instruments--the minstrels hummed their songs--the licensed jester whooped betwixt mirth and madness, as he brandished his bauble--the morrice-dancers jangled their bells--the rustics hallow'd and whistled--men laughed loud, and maidens giggled shrill; while many a broad jest flew like a shuttle-c.o.c.k from one party to be caught in the air, and returned from the opposite side of the road by another, at which it was aimed.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ENTRANCE TO THE GREAT HALL, KENILWORTH.]

The arrival of the Queen, who had journeyed from Warwick Castle, had been somewhat delayed, and the Guards had some difficulty in keeping the course clear until she appeared with the lords and ladies who accompanied her. It was dark when she approached the Castle, and immediately there arose from the mult.i.tude a shout of applause, so tremendously vociferous that the country echoed for miles around. The Guards, thickly stationed upon the road by which the Queen was to advance, caught up the acclamation, which ran like wildfire to the castle, and announced to all within that Queen Elizabeth had entered the Royal Castle of Kenilworth. The whole music of the castle sounded at once, and a round of artillery, with a salvo of small arms, was discharged from the battlements; but the noise of drums and trumpets, and even of the cannon themselves, was but faintly heard amidst the roaring and reiterated welcome of the mult.i.tude. As the noise began to abate, a broad glare of light was seen to appear from the gate of the park, and, broadening and brightening as it came nearer, advance along the open and fair avenue that led towards the Gallery Tower, lined on either hand by the retainers of the Earl of Leicester. The word was pa.s.sed along the lines, "The Queen! The Queen! Silence, and stand fast!"

Onward came the cavalcade, illuminated by 200 thick waxen torches, in the hands of as many hors.e.m.e.n, which cast a light like that of broad day all around the procession, but especially on the princ.i.p.al group, of which the Queen herself, arrayed in the most splendid manner, and blazing with jewels, formed the central figure. She was mounted on a milk-white horse, which, she reined with peculiar grace and dignity, and in the whole of her stately and n.o.ble carriage you saw the daughter of a hundred kings.

[Ill.u.s.tration: KENILWORTH CASTLE IN 1871.]

Leicester, who glittered like a golden image with jewels and cloth of gold, rode on her Majesty's right hand, as well in quality as her Host as of her Master of the Horse. The black steed which he mounted had not a single white hair on his body, and was one of the most renowned chargers in Europe, having been purchased by the earl at large expense for this royal occasion. As the n.o.ble steed chafed at the slow speed of the procession, and, arching his stately neck, champed on the silver bits which restrained him, the foam flew from his mouth and speckled his well-formed limbs as if with spots of snow. The rider well became the high place which he held and the proud animal which he bestrode, for no man in England, or perhaps in Europe, was more perfect than Dudley in horsemanship and all other exercises belonging to his rank. He was bareheaded, as were all the courtiers in the train, and the red torchlight shone upon his long curled tresses of dark hair and on his n.o.ble features, to the beauty of which even the severest criticism could only object the lordly fault, as it may be termed, of a forehead somewhat too high. On that proud evening he wore all the graceful solicitude of a subject, to show himself sensible of the high honour which the Queen was conferring on him, and all the pride and satisfaction which became so glorious a moment. The train, male and female, who attended immediately upon the Queen's person, were of course of the bravest and the fairest--the highest born n.o.bles and the wisest councellors of that distinguished reign, and were followed by a crowd of knights and gentlemen. It was now the part of the huge porter, a man of immense size, to deliver an address and drop his club and resign his keys to give open way to the G.o.ddess of the Night and all her magnificent train, but as he was so overwhelmed with confusion of spirit--the contents of one immense black jack of double ale--Sir Walter only records the substance of what the gigantic warder ought to have said in his address:

What stir, what turmoil, have we for the nones?

Stand back, my masters, or beware your bones!

Sirs, I'm a warder, and no man of straw, My voice keeps order, and my club gives law.

Yet soft,--nay stay--what vision have we here?

What dainty darling this--what peerless peer?

What loveliest face, that loving ranks enfold.

Like brightest diamond chased in purest gold?

Dazzled and blind, mine office I forsake, My club, my Key, my knee, my homage take.

Bright paragon, pa.s.s on in joy and bliss;-- Beshrew the gate that opes not wide at such a sight as this!

Elizabeth received most graciously the homage of the herculean porter and then pa.s.sed through the guarded tower amidst the sounds of trumpets and other instruments stationed on the tower and in various parts of the castle, and dismounted near Mortimer's Tower, which was as light as day as she walked across the long bridge built especially for her and lit with torches on either side. She had no sooner stepped upon the bridge than a new spectacle was provided, for as soon as the music gave signal that she was so far advanced, a raft on the lake, disposed as to resemble a small floating island, illuminated by a great variety of torches, and surrounded by floating pageants formed to represent sea-horses, on which sat Tritons, Nereids, and other fabulous deities of the seas and rivers, made its appearance upon the lake, and, issuing from behind a small heronry where it had been concealed, floated gently towards the farther end of the bridge. On the islet appeared a beautiful woman, clad in a watchet-coloured silken mantle, bound with a broad girdle, inscribed with characters like the phylacteries of the Hebrews.

Her feet and arms were bare, but her wrists and ankles were adorned with gold bracelets of uncommon size. Amidst her long silky black hair she wore a crown or chaplet of artificial mistletoe, and bore in her hand a rod of ebony tipped with silver. Two nymphs attended on her, dressed in the same antique and mystical guise. The pageant was so well managed that the Lady of the Floating Island, having performed her voyage with much picturesque effect, landed at Mortimer's Tower with her two attendants, just as Elizabeth presented herself before that outwork. The stranger then in a well-penned speech announced herself as that famous Lady of the Lake renowned in the stories of King Arthur, who had nursed the youth of the redoubted Sir Lancelot, and whose beauty had proved too powerful both for the wisdom and the spells of the mighty Merlin. Since that period she had remained possessed of her crystal dominions, she said, despite the various men of fame and might by whom Kenilworth had been successively tenanted. The Saxons, the Danes, the Normans, the Saintlowes, the Clintons, the Montforts, the Mortimers, the Plantagenets, great though they were in arms and magnificence, had never, she said, caused her to raise her head from the waters which hid her crystal palace. But a greater than all these great names had now appeared, and she came in homage and duty to welcome the peerless Elizabeth to all sport which the castle and its environs, which lake or land, could afford! The queen received the address with great courtesy and the Lady of the Lake vanished, and Arion, who was amongst the maritime deities, appeared upon his dolphin in her place. But amidst all this pageantry Sir Walter throws a side-light on Mervyn's Tower, where we see a prisoner, a pale, attenuated, half dead, yet still lovely lady, Amy Robsart, the neglected wife of Leicester, incarcerated there while her husband is flirting with the queen in the gay rooms above. Her features are worn with agony and suspense as she looks through the narrow window of her prison on the fireworks and coloured fires outside, wondering perhaps whether these were emblems of her own miserable life, "a single spark, which is instantaneously swallowed up by the surrounding darkness--a precarious glow, which rises but for a brief s.p.a.ce into the air, that its fall may be lower."

[Ill.u.s.tration: MERVYN'S TOWER, KENILWORTH CASTLE.]

Sir Walter Scott described Kenilworth as "a place to impress on the musing visitor the transitory value of human possessions, and the happiness of those who enjoy a humble lot in virtuous contentment," and it was with some such thoughts as these in our own minds that we hurried away across fields and along lovely by-lanes towards Leamington, our object in going there by the way we did being to get a view of the great mansion of Stoneleigh, the residence of Lord Leigh, who was also a landowner in our native County of Chester. It seemed a very fine place as we pa.s.sed through the well-wooded park surrounding it, and presently reached his lordship's village of Ashow, where the old church, standing on a small knoll at the end of the village, looked down upon the River Avon below, which was here only a small stream. The roofs of many of the cottages were thatched with straw, and although more liable to be set on fire than those covered with the red tiles so common in the County of Warwick, they looked very picturesque and had the advantage of not being affected so much by extremes of temperature, being warmer in winter and cooler in summer for those who had the good fortune to live under them.

We noticed several alms houses in the village, and near the smithy had a talk with an old man who was interested to know that we came from Cheshire, as he knew his lordship had some property there. He told us that when a former Lord Leigh had died, there was a dispute amongst the Leigh family as to who was the next owner of the estate, and about fifty men came up from Cheshire and took possession of the abbey; but as the verdict went against them they had to go back again, and had to pay dearly for their trespa.s.s. He did not know where the Leighs came from originally, but thought "they might have come from Cheshire," so we told him that the first time they were heard of in that county was when the Devil brought a load of them in his cart from Lancashire. He crossed the River Mersey, which divided the two counties, at a ford near Warrington, and travelled along the Knutsford road, throwing one of them out occasionally with his pikel, first on one side of the road and then on the other, until he had only a few left at the bottom of his cart, and as he did not think these worth taking any farther, he "keck'd" his cart up and left them on the road, so there were persons named Lee, Legh, or Leigh living on each side of that road to the present day. The old man seemed pleased with our story and grinned considerably, and no doubt it would be repeated in the village of Ashow after we had left, and might probably reach the ears of his lordship himself.

Two of the Lees that the Devil left on the road when he upset his cart took possession of the country on either side, which at that time was covered with a dense forest, and selected large oak trees to mark their boundaries, that remained long after the other trees had disappeared.

But in course of time it became necessary to make some other distinction between the two estates, so it was arranged that one landlord should spell his name Legh and the other Leigh, and that their tenants should spell the name of the place High Legh in one case and High Leigh in the other, so that when name-plates appeared on carts, each landlord was able to tell to which estate they belonged. There were many antiquities in the country a.s.sociated with his Satanic Majesty, simply because their origin was unknown, such as the Devil's Bridge over which we had pa.s.sed at Kirkby Lonsdale, and the Devil's Arrows at Aldborough, and it was quite possible that the remote antiquity of the Legh family might account for the legend connected with them. There were several facts connected with the Cheshire estate of the Leghs which interested us, the first being that my grandfather was formerly a tenant on the estate, and the squire had in his possession the rent rolls for every year since about 1289. A fact that might interest ladies who are on the lookout for a Mr. Wright is, that out of a hundred tenants on that estate at the present day, twenty-seven householders bear the name of Wright.

[Ill.u.s.tration: REMAINS OF THE BROAD OAK, HIGH LEGH.]

But the strangest incident connected with High Legh was the case of a young man who came from Scotland to work in the squire's gardens there.