The Evolution of an English Town Part 1

The Evolution Of An English Town.

by Gordon Home.

PREFACE

The original suggestion that I should undertake this task came from the Vicar of Pickering, and it is due to his co-operation and to the great help received from Dr John L. Kirk that this history has attained its present form. But beyond this I have had most valuable a.s.sistance from so many people in Pickering and the villages round about, that to mention them all would almost entail reprinting the local directory. I would therefore ask all those people who so kindly put themselves to great trouble and who gave up much time in order to help me, to consider that they have contributed very materially towards the compilation of this record.

Beyond those who live in the neighbourhood of Pickering, I am particularly indebted to Mr Richard Blakeborough for his kind help and the use of his invaluable collection of Yorks.h.i.+re folklore. Mr Blakeborough was keen on collecting the old stories of hobs, wraithes and witches just long enough ago to be able to tap the memories of many old people who are no longer with us, and thus his collection is now of great value. Nearly all the folklore stories I am able to give, are those saved from oblivion in this way.

I have also had much help from Mr J. Romilly Allen and from Mr T.M. Fallow of Coatham, who very generously gave his aid in deciphering some of the older records of Pickering.

To Professor Percy F. Kendall who so kindly gave me permission to reproduce his map showing the Vale of Pickering during the Glacial Epoch, as well as other valuable help, I am also greatly indebted; and I have to thank Professor W. Boyd Dawkins for his kindness in reading some of the proofs, and for giving valuable suggestions.

GORDON HOME.

EPSOM, _May 1905_.

INTRODUCTION

Every preface in olden time was wont to begin with the address "Lectori Benevolo"--the indulgence of the reader being thereby invoked and, it was hoped, a.s.sured. In that the writer of this at least would have his share, even though neither subject, nor author, that he introduces, may stand in need of such a s.h.i.+eld.

Local histories are yearly becoming more numerous. In few places is there more justification for one than here.

I. The beauty of the scenery is not well known. This book should do something to vindicate its character. There is no need on this point to go back to the time of George III.'s conversation at the levee with Mrs Pickering's grandfather. "I suppose you are going back to Yorks.h.i.+re, Mr Stanhope? A very ugly country, Yorks.h.i.+re." This was too much for my grandfather--(the story is told in her own words)--"We always consider Yorks.h.i.+re a very picturesque country." "What, what, what," said the King, "a coalpit a picturesque object! what, what, what, Yorks.h.i.+re coalpits picturesque! Yorks.h.i.+re a picturesque country!"[1] Only within the last few months one of us had a letter refusing to consider a vacant post: the reason given being that this was a colliery district. There is no pit to be found for miles. Many can, and do, walk, cycle, or motor through the Vale. Others, who are unable to come and see for themselves, will, with the help of Mr Home, be in a better position to appreciate at its true worth the charm of the haughs and the changing views of the distant Wolds, and of the russet brown or purple expanse of the upland moors.

[Footnote 1: "Memoirs of Anna M.W. Pickering."]

II. The stranger on a visit, no less the historian or antiquary, has till now often been puzzled for a clue, and ignorant where to turn for authentic data, would he attempt to weave for himself a connected idea of the incidents of the past and their bearing on the present. There has been no lack of material buried in ancient records, or preserved in the common oral traditions of the folk: but hitherto no coherent account that has been published. Speaking for ourselves, we are glad the task of dealing with the "raffled hank" of timeworn customs and obscure traditions as well as the more easily ascertained facts of history is falling to the author's practised pen. For the future, at any rate, there should be less difficulty in understanding the manner of life and method of rule with which past and present generations belonging to the Town of Pickering have been content to dwell.

III. "Foreigners"[1] are sometimes at a loss to understand the peculiar spirit of those who in York, for instance, are known as "Moor-enders."

This spirit shows itself in different ways; but perhaps in nothing so much as the intense attachment of the townsmen to their birthplace. This local patriotism is no whit behind that to be found in Spain--"seldom indeed a Spaniard says he is a Spaniard, but speaks of himself as being from Seville, Cadiz, or some forgotten town in La Mancha, of which he speaks with pride, referring to it as 'mi tierra.'"[2] Our readers will learn there is some reason for this attachment; and may, like some of us, who tho' born elsewhere claim adoption as citizens, fall under the witchery of its spell.

[Footnote 1: C.R.L. Fletcher in his "History of England" tells us that townsmen of the thirteenth century were wont to brand their brethren in all the neighbouring towns as "foreigners." Those we call foreigners, they called aliens. The expression itself was made use of not long ago at a meeting of the Urban Council.]

[Footnote 2: R.B. Cunninghame Graham, "Hernando de Soto."]

May the venture to compa.s.s these ends succeed, to use an old saying, "ez sartin ez t' thorn-bush."[1]

[Footnote 1: It used to be the custom for the parson to collect the t.i.the by placing a branch of thorn in every tenth stook; he choosing the stooks and sending his cart along for them. R. Blakeborough, "Yorks.h.i.+re Humour and Customs."]

E.W.D.

The Vicarage, Pickering.

_25th September_ 1904.

THE EVOLUTION

OF AN

ENGLISH TOWN

CHAPTER I

_Concerning those which follow_

"Brother," quod he, "where is now youre dwellyng, Another day if that I sholde you seche?"

This yeman hym answerde, in softe speche: "Brother," quod he, "fer in the north contree, Where as I hope som tyme I shal thee see."

_The Friar's Tale. Chaucer._

In the North Riding of Yorks.h.i.+re, there is a town of such antiquity that its beginnings are lost far away in the mists of those times of which no written records exist. What this town was originally called, it is impossible to say, but since the days of William the Norman (a pleasanter sounding name than "the Conqueror,") it has been consistently known as Pickering, although there has always been a tendency to spell the name with y's and to abandon the c, thus producing the curious-looking result of _Pykeryng_; its sound, however was the same.

In his Chronicles, John Stow states on the authority of "divers writers"

that Pickering was built in the year 270 B.C., but I am inclined to think that the earliest settlements on the site or in the neighbourhood of the present town must have been originated at an infinitely earlier period.

But despite its undisputed antiquity there are many even in Yorks.h.i.+re who have never heard of the town, and in the south of England it is difficult to find anyone who is aware that such a place exists. At Rennes during the great military trial there was a Frenchman who asked "Who is Dreyfus?" and we were surprised at such ignorance of a name that had been on the lips of all France for years, but yet we discover ourselves to be astonis.h.i.+ngly lacking in the knowledge of our own little island and find ourselves asking "why should anyone trouble to write a book about a town of which so few have even heard?" But it is often in the out-of-the-way places that historical treasures are preserved, and it is mainly for this reason and the fact that the successive periods of growth are so well demonstrated there, that the ancient town of Pickering has been selected to ill.u.s.trate the evolution of an English town.

I have endeavoured to produce a complete series of pictures commencing with the Ice Age and finis.h.i.+ng at the dawn of the twentieth century. In the earlier chapters only a rough outline is possible, but as we come down the centuries and the records become more numerous and varied, fuller details can be added to the pictures of each age, and we may witness how much or how little the great series of dynastic, const.i.tutional, religious and social changes effected a district that is typical of many others in the remoter parts of England.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Pickering from the North-West.]

Built on sloping ground that rises gently from the rich, level pastures of the Vale of Pickering, the town has a picturesque and pleasant site. At the top of the market-place where the ground becomes much steeper stands the church, its grey bulk dominating every view. From all over the Vale one can see the tall spire, and from due east or west it has a surprising way of peeping over the hill tops. It has even been suggested that the tower and spire have been a landmark for a very long time, owing to the fact that where the hills and formation of the ground do not obstruct the view, or make road-making difficult, the roads make straight for the spire.

With few exceptions the walls of the houses are of the same weather-beaten limestone as the church and the castle, but seen from above the whole town is transformed into a blaze of red, the curved tiles of the locality retaining their brilliant hue for an indefinite period. Only a very few thatched roofs remain to-day, but the older folks remember when most of the houses were covered in that picturesque fas.h.i.+on.

Pickering has thus lost its original uniform greyness, relieved here and there by whitewash, and presents strong contrasts of colour against the green meadows and the ma.s.ses of trees that crown the hill where the castle stands. The ruins, now battered and ivy-mantled, are dignified and picturesque and still sufficiently complete to convey a clear impression of the former character of the fortress, three of the towers at angles of the outer walls having still an imposing aspect. The gra.s.sy mounds and shattered walls of the interior would, however, be scarcely recognisable to the shade of Richard II. if he were ever to visit the scene of his imprisonment.

Since the time of Henry VIII. when Leland described the castle, whole towers and all the interior buildings except the chapel have disappeared.

The chief disasters probably happened before the Civil War, although we are told, by one or two eighteenth century writers, as an instance of the destruction that was wrought, that after the Parliamentary forces had occupied the place and "breached the walls," great quant.i.ties of papers and parchments were scattered about Castle-gate, the children being attracted to pick them up, many of them bearing gilt letters. During the century which has just closed, more damage was done to the buildings and in a short time all the wooden floors in the towers completely disappeared.

Stories are told of the Parliamentary troops being quartered in Pickering church, and, if this were true, we have every reason to bless the coats of whitewash which probably hid the wall-paintings from their view. The series of fifteenth century pictures that now cover both walls of the nave would have proved so very distasteful to the puritan soldiery that it is impossible to believe that they could have tolerated their existence, especially when we find it recorded that the font was smashed and the large prayer-book torn to pieces at that time.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Rosamund Tower, Pickering Castle.]

Pickering church has a fascination for the antiquary, and does not fail to impress even the most casual person who wanders into the churchyard and enters the s.p.a.cious porch. The solemn ma.s.siveness of the Norman nave, the unusual effect of the coloured paintings above the arches, and the carved stone effigies of knights whose names are almost forgotten, carry one away from the familiar impressions of a present-day Yorks.h.i.+re town, and almost suggest that one is living in mediaeval times. One can wander, too, on the moors a few miles to the north and see heather stretching away to the most distant horizon and feel that there, also, are scenes which have been identically the same for many centuries. The men of the Neolithic and Bronze Ages may have swept their eyes over landscapes so similar that they would find the moorlands quite as they knew them, although they would miss the dense forests of the valleys and the lower levels.

The cottages in the villages are, many of them, of great age, and most of them have been the silent witnesses of innumerable superst.i.tious rites and customs. When one thoroughly realises the degrading character of the beliefs that so powerfully swayed the lives of the villagers and moorland-folk of this district, as late as the first twenty years of the nineteenth century, one can only rejoice that influences arose sufficiently powerful to destroy them. Along with the revolting practises, however, it is extremely unfortunate to have to record the disappearance of many picturesque, and in themselves, entirely harmless customs. The roots of the great ma.s.s of superst.i.tions have their beginnings so far away from the present time, that to embrace them all necessitates an exploration of all the centuries that lie between us and the pre-historic ages, and in the pages that follow, some of these connections with the past may be discovered.