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Old Timesat Otterbourne. 

BYCHARLOTTE M. YONGE. 

[SECOND EDITION. ]

Winchester:WARREN AND SON, PRINTERS AND PUBLISHERS, HIGH STREET. 

London:SIMPKIN AND CO. , LIMITED, STATIONERS' HALL COURT. 1891

Old Times at Otterbourne. 

Not many of us remember Otterbourne before the Railroad, the Church, orthe Penny Post. It may be pleasant to some of us to try to catch a fewrecollections before all those who can tell us anything about those timesare quite gone. 

To begin with the first that is known about it, or rather that isguessed. A part of a Roman road has been traced in Otterbourne Park, andnear it was found a piece of a quern, one of the old stones of a handmill, such as was used in ancient times for grinding corn; so that theplace must have been inhabited at least seventeen hundred years ago. Inthe last century a medallion bearing the head of a Roman Emperor wasfound here, sixteen feet beneath the surface. It seems to be one of themedallions that were placed below the Eagle on the Roman Standards, andit is still in the possession of the family of Fitt, of Westley. 

After the Roman and British times were over, this part of the countrybelonged to Wessex, the kingdom of the West Saxons, of which Winchesterwas the capital. Lying so near the chief town, which was the Bishop'sthrone, this place was likely soon to be made into a parish, whenArchbishop Theodore divided England in dioceses and parishes, just twelvehundred years ago, for he died 690. The name no doubt means the villageof the Otters, and even now these creatures are sometimes seen in theItchen, so that no doubt there were once many more of them. The shapesand sizes of most of our parishes were fixed by those of the estates ofthe Lords who first built the Church for themselves and their households, with the churls and serfs on their manor. The first Lord of Otterbournemust have had a very long narrow property, to judge by the form of theparish, which is at least three miles long, and nowhere a mile inbreadth. Most likely he wanted to secure as much of the river and meadowland as he could, with some high open heathy ground on the hill as commonland where the cattle could graze, and some wood to supply timber andfuel. Probably all the slopes of the hills on each side of the valley ofthe Otter were covered with wood. The top of the gravelly hill to thesouthward was all heather and furze, as indeed it is still, and thisreached all the way to Southampton and the Forest. The whole districtwas called Itene or Itchen, like the river. The name meant in the oldEnglish language, the Giant's Forest and the Giant's Wood. 

The hill to the north was, as it still remains, chalk down. The villagelay near the river and the stream that runs into it, upon the bed of claybetween the chalk and the gravel. Most likely the Moathouse was then inexistence, though a very different building from what it is at present, and its moat very deep and full of water, serving as a real defence. There is nothing left but broad hedge rows of the woods to thenorth-east, but one of these is called Dane Lane, and is said to be theroad by which the Danes made their way to Winchester, being then awoodland path. It is said that whenever the yellow cow wheat growsfreely the land has never been cultivated. 

There was a hamlet at Boyatt, for both it and Otterbourne are mentionedin Domesday Book. This is the great census that William the Conquerorcaused to be taken 1083 of all his kingdom. From it we learn thatOtterbourne had a Church which belonged to Roger de Montgomery, a greatNorman baron, whose father had been a friend of William I. 

Well for the parish that it lay at a distance from the Giant's Wood, where the King turned out all the inhabitants for the sake of his "highdeer, " making it the New Forest. He and his sons could ride through downand heath all the way to their hunting. We all know how William Rufuswas brought back from his last hunt, lying dead in the charcoal burnerPurkis's cart, in which he was carried to his grave in WinchesterCathedral. Part of the road between Hursley and Otterbourne, nearSilkstede, is called King's Lane, because it is said to have been the wayby which this strange hearse travelled. 

Silkstede is a farm now--it was most likely a grange, or outlying housebelonging to some monastery--and there is a remnant of the gardens andsome fine trees, and a hollow called China Dell, where snowdrops anddouble daffodils grow. But this is in Hursley parish, as is also MerdonCastle. 

The green mounds and deep trenches, and the fragments of ruinous wall, have a story reaching far back into the ages. 

There is little doubt, from their outline, that once there was anentrenched camp of the Romans on this ground, but nothing is knownthereof. Merantune, as our Saxon ancestors called it, first is heard ofwhen in 755 Cynewolf, King of Wessex, was murdered there by his kinsmanCyneheard, who was in his turn killed by the Thanes of the victim. Withthis savage story it first appears, but no more is known of its fateexcept that it became the property of the Bishops of Winchester, some sayby the grant of Cynegyls, the first Christian King of Wessex, others by alater gift. It was then a manor, to which Hurstleigh, the woodland, wasonly an appendage; and the curious old manorial rights and customsplainly go back to these ancient prae-Norman times. To go through allthe thirty customs would be impossible, but it is worth noting that thetenure of the lands descended by right to the youngest son in a familyinstead of the eldest. Such "cradle fiefs" exist in other parts ofEngland, and in Switzerland, on the principle that the elder ones go outinto the world while their father is vigorous, but the youngest is thestay of his old age. The rents were at first paid in kind or in labour, with a heriot, namely, the most valuable animal in stock on a death, butthese became latterly commuted for quit rent and fines. The trees werecarefully guarded. Only one good timber tree on each holding in the life-time of a tenant might be cut by the Lord of the Manor, and the tenantsthemselves might only cut old rotten trees! But this is as much as youwill wish to hear of these old customs, which prove that the Normanfeudal system was kept out of this Episcopal manor. It was not evenmentioned in Domesday Book, near as it was to Winchester. There it lay, peacefully on its island of chalk down, shut in by the well-preservedtrees, till Stephen's brother, Bishop Henry de Blois, of Winchester, bethought him of turning the old Roman Camp into a fortified castle. Thethree Norman kings had wisely hindered the building of castles, but thesesprung up like mushrooms under the feeble rule of Stephen. 

The tenants must have toiled hard, judging by the massiveness of thesmall remnant, all built of the only material at hand, chalk to makemortar, in which flints are imbedded. 

This fragment still standing used to be considered as part of the keep, but of late years better knowledge of the architecture of castles has ledto the belief that it was part of the northern gateway tower. I borrowthe description of the building from one written immediately after thecomments of a gentleman who had studied the subject. 

Henry de Blois, King Stephen's brother, Bishop of Winchester, probablywished for a stronghold near at hand, during his brother's wars with theEmpress Maud. He would have begun by having the nearly circularembankment thrown up with a parapet along the top, and in the ditch thusformed a stockade of sharp pointed stakes. Within the court, the well, 300 feet deep, was dug, and round it would have been the buildings neededby the Bishop, his household and guards, much crowded together. Theentrance would have been a drawbridge, across the great ditch, which onthis side was not less than 60 feet wide and perhaps 25 deep, and througha great gateway between two high square towers which must have stoodwhere now there is a slope leading down from the inner court, into thesouthern one. This slope is probably formed by the ruins of the gatewayand tower being pitched into the ditch. 

The Castle was then very small, and did not command the country excepttowards the south. The next work therefore would be to throw out anembankment to the south, with a ditch outside. The great gap whenceHursley House is seen, did not then exist, but there was an unbrokensemicircle of rampart and ditch, which would protect a large number ofmen. In case of an enemy forcing this place, the defenders could retreatinto the Castle by the drawbridge. 

The entrance was on the eastern side, and in order to protect this andthe back (or northern side) of the Castle, an embankment was thrown upoutside the first moat, and with an outer moat of its own. Then, as, incase of this being carried by the enemy the defenders would be cut offfrom the main southern gateway, a square tower was built on this outerembankment exactly opposite to the ruin which yet remains, and onlydivided from it by the great ditch. On either side of the tower, cuttingthe embankment across therefore at right angles, was a little ditchspanned by a drawbridge, which, if the defenders found it necessary toretire to the tower, could at any time be raised. The foundations of thetower and the position of the ditch can still be distinctly traced. 

Supposing farther that it became impossible to hold the tower, thebesieged could retreat into the main body of the Castle by anotherdrawbridge across the great ditch. This would lead them through the archwhich can still be seen in the ruin, though it is partially blocked up. The room on the east side of this passage was probably a guard room. 

These are all the remains. The embankments to the south and west commanda great extent of country, and on the north and northwest, we trace theprecautions by the great depth of the ditch, and steepness of theearthworks, though now overgrown with trees. All this must have beendone between the years 1138 and 1154, and great part of the defences werethrown down in the lifetime of the founder. Merdon was not destined toshine in sieges, in spite of its strength. Henry II came in, and forbadthe multiplication of castles and Merdon seems to have been dismantled asquickly as it had been built. 

The Bishops of Winchester however still seem to have resided there fromtime to time, though it gradually fell into decay, and was ruinous by theend of the Plantagenet period. 

After the younger Oliver's death, his sisters endeavoured to obtain theHursley property to which their father had succeeded as his son's heir. He was past eighty and the judge allowed him to wear his hat at the trialin court, an act of consideration commended by Queen Anne. 

After his death, in 1708, the estate was sold to the Heathcote family. The old house, whose foundations can be traced on the lawn, and which wasapproached by the two avenues of walnut trees still standing, was thenpulled down, and the present one erected. 

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Most likely the oldest thing in Otterbourne is the arch that forms thedoorway of the Boys' School, and which came from the door of the OldChurch. By the carving on that arch, and the form of the littleclustered columns that support it, we can tell that it must have been putup about the time of King Richard I or King John, somewhere about theyear 1200. There was certainly a church before this date, but mostlikely this was the first time that much pains had been taken about itsbeauty, and carved stone had been brought from a distance. It was a goodspot that was chosen, lying a little above the meadows, and not far fromthe moated Manor House. The east wall of the nave is still standing, butit now forms the west wall of the small remnant that is still covered in. It still has three arches in it, to lead to the old chancel, and abovethose arches there were some paintings. They came to light when the OldChurch was pulled down. First, a great deal of plaster and whitewashcame off. Then appeared part of the Commandments in Old English blackletter, and below that, again, were some paintings, traced out in redupon the wall. They have been defaced so much that all that could befound out was that there was a quatrefoil shape within a square. Thecorners were filled up apparently with the emblems of the Four Cherubim, though only the Winged Ox showed plainly. There was a sitting figure inthe centre, with the hand raised, and it was thought to be a very ruderepresentation of our Blessed Lord in Judgment. In another compartmentwas an outline of a man, and another in a hairy garment, so that thislast may have been intended for the Baptism of our Blessed Lord. Unfortunately, being on the outside wall, there was no means ofprotecting these curious paintings, and, sad to say, one evening, Imyself saw a party of rough boys standing in a row throwing stones atthem. There being a pathway through the churchyard, it was not possibleto keep them out, and thus these curious remains have been destroyed. 

We may think of the people who resorted to the little Old Church aswearing long gowns both men and women, on Sunday, spun, woven, and dyedblue at home, most likely with woad, a plant like mignonette which stillgrows in the lanes. The gentry were in gayer colours, but most likelynone lived nearer than Winchester, and it was only when they plodded intomarket that the people would see the long-hanging sleeves, the pointedhoods, and the queer long-toed shoes of the young gentlemen, or thetowers that the ladies put on their heads. 

The name of Otterbourne does not come forward in history, but, as it liesso near Winchester, it must have had some share in what happened in theCathedral city. The next thing we know about it is that Bishop Edyngtonjoined it to Hursley. William de Edyngton was Bishop of Winchester inthe middle part of the reign of Edward III, from 1357 to 1366. Bishop dePontissara founded a College at Winchester called St. Elizabeth's, and toassist in providing for the expenses, he decreed that the greater tithesof Hursley, those of the corn fields, should be paid to the Dean andChapter, and that the rest of the tithe should go to the Vicar. Then, lest the Vicar should be too poor, Otterbourne was to be joined withHursley, and held by the same parish priest, and this arrangement lastedfor five hundred years. It was made in times when there was little heedtaken to the real good of country places. The arrangement was confirmedby his successor, Bishop Edyngton, who lies buried in the nave ofWinchester Cathedral, not far from where lies the much greater man whosucceeded him. William of Wykeham went on with the work Edyngton hadbegun, and built the pillars of the Cathedral nave as we now see them. Healso founded the two Colleges of St. Mary, one at Winchester for 70 boys, one at Oxford to receive the scholars as they grew older, meaning thatthey should be trained up to become priests. It seems that the old nameof the field where the college stands was Otterbourne meadow, and that itwas bought of a Master Dummer. Bishop Wykeham's College at Oxford isstill called New College, though there are now many much newer. Onesmall estate at Otterbourne was given by him to help to endow WinchesterCollege, to which it still belongs. 

Good men had come to think that founding colleges was the very best thingthey could do for the benefit of the Church, and William of Waynflete, who was made Bishop of Winchester in 1447, founded another college atOxford in honour of St. Mary Magdalen. To this College he gave largeestates for its maintenance, and in especial a very large portion of ourlong, narrow parish of Otterbourne. Ever since his time, two of theFellows of Magdalen, if not the President himself, have come with theSteward, on a progress through the estates every year to hold their Courtand give audit to all who hold lands of them Till quite recently theCourt was always held at the Manor House, the old Moat House, which mustonce have been the principal house in the parish, though now it is somuch gone to decay. Old Dr. Plank, the President of Magdalen, used tocome thither in Farmer Colson's time. What used to be the principal roomhas a short staircase leading to it, and in the wainscot over the fire-place is a curious old picture, painted, I fancy, between 1600 and 1700, showing a fight between turbaned men and European soldiers, most likelyTurks and Austrians. It is a pity that it cannot tell its history. Themoat goes all round the house, garden, and farmyard, and no doubt used tohave a drawbridge. Forty or fifty years ago, it was clear and had fishin it, but the bridge fell in and choked the stream, and since that ithas become full of reeds and a mere swamp. It must have been a reallyuseful protection in the evil times of the Wars of the Roses. 

Most likely the Commandments were painted over the old fresco on the eastwall of the nave of the old Church either in the time of Edward VI, orElizabeth, for if they had been later, the letters would not have beenOld English. The foreigners who meddled so much with our Church in thelatter years of Edward VI obtained that the Holy Communion should not becelebrated in the chancels, but that the Holy Table should be spread inthe body of the Church, and many Chancels were thus disused and becameruinous, as ours most certainly did at some time or other. St. Elizabeth's College was broken up and the place where it stood given tothe college of St. Mary. It is still called Elizabeth Meadow. Thepresentation to the Cure of our two parishes went with the estate ofHursley. 

There was a very odd scene somewhere between Winchester and Southamptonin the year 1554. Queen Mary Tudor was waiting at Winchester for herbridegroom, Philip of Spain. He landed at Southampton on the morning ofthe 20th of July, and set out in a black velvet dress, red cloak, andblack velvet hat, with a splendid train of gentlemen to ride toWinchester. It was a very wet day, and the Queen sent a gentleman with aring from her, to beg him to come no farther in the rain. But thegentleman knew no Spanish, and the King no English. So Philip thoughtsome warning of treachery was meant, and halted in great doubt anddifficulty till the messenger recollected his French, and said in thattongue, that the Queen was only afraid of his Grace's getting wet. So onwent Philip, and the High Sheriff of Hampshire rode before him with along white wand in his hand, and his hat off, the rain running in streamsoff his bare head. They went so slowly as not to reach Winchester tillsix or seven o'clock in the evening, so that the people of Otterbourne, Compton, and Twyford must have had a good view of the Spanish Prince whowas so unwelcome to them all. 

Thomas Sternhold, who together with Hopkins put the Psalms into metre forsinging, lived in the outskirts of Hursley. 

When the plunder of the Monasteries was exhausted, the Tudor Sovereigns, or perhaps their favourites, took themselves to exacting gifts and grantsfrom the Bishops, and thus Poynet who was intended in the stead ofGardiner gave Merdon to Edward VI, who presented it to Sir Philip Hobby. It was recovered by Bishop Gardiner, but granted back again by QueenElizabeth. Sir Philip is believed to have first built a mansion atHursley, and his nephew sold the place to Sir Thomas Clarke, who wasapparently a hard lord of the manor. His tenants still had to labour athis crops instead of paying rent, but provisions had to be found them. About the year 1600, on the arrival of a hogshead of porridge, unsavouryand full of worms, the reapers struck, and their part was taken by Mr. Robert Coram, who then owned Cranbury, so hotly that he and Mr. Pye, SirThomas Clarke's steward, rode at one another through the wheat with drawndaggers. Lady Clarke yielded, and cooked two or three bacon-hogs for thereapers. 

The old road from Winchester to Southampton then went along what we nowcall the Old Hollow, leading from Shawford Down to Oakwood. Then itseems to have gone along towards the old Church, its course being stillmarked by the long narrow meadows, called the Jar Mead and Hundred Acres, or, more properly, Under an Acre. Then it led down to the ford atBrambridge, for there was then no canal to be crossed. The only greatpersonage who was likely to have come along this road in the early 17thcentury was King James the First's wife, Queen Anne of Denmark, who spenta winter at the old Castle of Winchester, and was dreadfully dull there, though the ladies tried to amuse her by all sorts of games, among whichone was called "Rise, Pig, and Go. "

James I gave us one of the best of Bishops, Lancelot Andrewes by name, who wrote a beautiful book of devotions. He lived on to the time ofCharles I, and did much to get the ruins made in the bad days roundWinchester Cathedral cleared and set to rights. Most likely he saw thatthe orders for putting the altars back into their right places werecarried out, and very likely the chancel was then mended, but with noattention to architecture, for the head of the east window was built upanyhow with broken bits of tracery from a larger and handsomer one. Theheir of the Clarkes sold the property at Hursley to Mr. Mayor, to whoseonly daughter Oliver Cromwell married his son Richard. 

What happened here in the Great Rebellion we do not know. An iron ballwas once dug up in the grounds at Otterbourne House, which may have comefrom Oliver's Battery; but it is also said to be only the knob of an oldpump handle--

 "When from the guarded down Fierce Cromwell's rebel soldiery kept watch o'er Wykeham's town. They spoiled the tombs of valiant men, warrior, and saint, and sage; But at the tomb of Wykeham good angels quenched their rage. "

Colonel Nathanael Fiennes prevented harm from being done to the Collegeor the monuments in the Cathedral; but there was some talk of destroyingthat holy place, for I have seen a petition from the citizens ofWinchester that it might be spared. It is said that some loyal persontook out all the stained glass in the great west window, hid it in achest, and buried it; but when better times came, it could not berestored to what it was before, and was put in confusedly, as we now seeit. 

Stoneham had a brave old clergyman, who kept possession of his church andrectory all through the war, and went on with the service till he died, no man daring to meddle with him. But Otterbourne was sure to follow thefate of Hursley. The King's Head Inn at Hursley is thought to have beenso called in allusion to the death of King Charles I. A strangecompliment to the Cromwells. 

Richard had a large family, most of whom died young, as may be seen ontheir monument in Hursley Church. It was at this time that the customsof the Manor were put on record in writing. The son, Oliver, lived till1705, and was confounded in the country people's minds with hisgrandfather. 

There is an odd, wild story, that Cromwell sunk all his treasure in thegreat well at Merdon Castle, in Hursley Park, 300 feet deep. It wasfurther said, if it were drawn up again, that no one must speak till itwas safe, otherwise it would be lost. A great chest was raised to themouth of the well, when one of the men said, "Here it comes!" The ropebroke, it fell back, and no one ever saw it more. Most likely this is anold legend belonging to the Castle long before, and only connected withOliver Cromwell because he was an historical person. Certain it is thatwhen the well was cleared out about 30 or 40 years ago nothing was foundbut two curious old candlesticks, and a great number of pins, which hadbeen thrown down because they caused those curious reverberations in thegreat depth. Another legend is that Merdon Well is connected with thebeautiful clear spring at Otterbourne called Pole Hole or Pool Hole, sothat when a couple of ducks were thrown down the well, they came out atPole Hole with all their feathers scraped off. 

It was in the time of the Commonwealth, in 1653, that our first parishregister begins. Some parishes have much older ones, so, perhaps, oursmay have been destroyed. The first entry in this old parchment book isthat Elizabeth, daughter of Edward Cox, of Otterbourne, and Anne, hiswife, was born ---. A large stain has made the rest of this entryillegible. There are only three births in 1653, and seven in 1654, oneof these William, son of Mr. William Downe, of Otterbourne Farm, andJoane, his wife, is, however, marked with two black lines beneath theentry, as are his sisters, Elizabeth and Jane, 1656 and 1658, apparentlyto do honour to the principal inhabitant. 

It is to be observed that all the entries here are of births, not ofbaptisms, departing from the general rule of Church registers, and theyare all in English; but in 1663 each child is recorded as baptized, andthe Latin language is used. This looks much as if a regular clergyman, ascholar, too, had, after the Restoration, become curate of the parish. Hedoes not sign his registers, so we do not know his name. In 1653 thebanns of William Downe and Jane Newman were published September 17th andthe two Lord's Days ensuing, but their wedding is not entered, and thefirst marriage recorded is that of Matthew Dummer and Jane Burt, in 1663. The first funeral was Emelin, wife of Robert Purser, in 1653. 

Also, there was plenty of brick-making, for King Charles II had plannedto build a grand palace at Winchester on the model of the great Frenchpalace of Versailles, and it is said that Dell copse was formed by thedigging out of bricks for the purpose. It was to reach all over thedowns, with fountains and water playing in them, and a great tower onOliver's Battery, with a light to guide the ships in the Channel. Thereis a story that Charles, who was a capital walker, sometimes walked overfrom Southampton to look at his buildings. One of the gentlemen whoattended him let the people at Twyford know who was going that way. Sothey all turned out to look at him, which was what the King by no meanswished. So he avoided them, and punished his indiscreet courtier bytaking a run and crossing one of the broad streams with a flying leap, then proceeding on to Winchester, leaving his attendant to follow as besthe might. 

After all only one wing of the intended palace was built. For a longtime it was called the King's House, but now it is only known as theBarracks. The work must have led to an increase in the population, formore baptisms are recorded in the register, though not more than six orseven in each year, all carefully set down in Latin, though with noofficiating minister named. There is an Augustine Thomas, who seems tohave had a large family, and who probably was the owner of the ground onwhich the vicarage now stands, the name of which used to be Thomas'sBargain. 

There must have been a great quickening of activity in Otterbourne soonafter the Restoration, for it was then that the Itchen canal or bargeriver, as it used to be called, was dug, to convey coals fromSouthampton, and, of course, this much improved the irrigation of thewater meadows. This canal was one of the first made in England, and wasvery valuable for nearly two hundred years, until the time of railways. 

In 1690, a larger parchment register was provided, and every two years itappears to have been shown up to the magistrates at the Petty Sessions, and signed by two of them. 

At this time there seem to have been some repairs of the church. Certainly, a great square board painted with the royal arms was thenerected, for it bore the date 1698, and the initials "W. M. " for Williamand Mary. There it was, on a beam, above the chancel arch, and the lionand unicorn on either side, the first with a huge tongue hanging out atthe corner of his mouth, looking very complacent, as though he weredisplaying the royal arms, the unicorn slim and dapper with a chainhanging from his neck. 

Several of our old surnames appear about this time, Cox, Comley, Collins, Goodchild, Woods, Wareham. John Newcombe, Rector of Otterbourne, whoafterwards became Bishop of Llandaff, signs his register carefully, butdrops the Latin, as various names may be mentioned, Scientia, or ScienceOlden, Philadelphia Comley, and Dennis Winter, who married WilliamWestgate. Anne and Abraham were the twin children of John and AnneDidimus, in 1741. 

The first church rate book only begins in 1776, but it is curious asshowing to whom the land then belonged. The spelling is also odd, and asthe handwriting is beautiful, so there is no doubt that it really is anaccount of the Church _Raiting_, nor that the "rait" was "mead. " WalterSmythe, Esquire, of Brambridge, appears, also John Colson John Comley, and Charles Vine. Lincolns belonged to Mr. Kentish and Gun Plot toThilman. 

The expenditure begins thus:--April 9, 1776, "Pd. Short for 6 dozen sparwheds, " and the sparw heds are repeated all down the page, varied withwhat would shock the H. H. --3_d. _ for foxheads. Also "expenses advisitation" 9_s. _ 6_d. _, and at the bottom of the page, the parish isthus mentioned as creditor "out of pockets, 5_s. _ 1_d. _" In 1777however, though the vestry paid "Didums 1 badger's head, 1 polecat'shead; Hary Bell for 2 marten cats, and spares innumerable, and the clarckwarges, 1 pounds 5_s. _, there was 1 pounds 3_s. _ in hand. " The polecatsand marten cats were soon exterminated, but foxes, hedgehogs, andsparrows continue to appear, though in improved spelling, till April24th, 1832, when this entry appears:--"At a meeting called to elect newChurchwardens, present the Rev. R. Shuckburgh, curate, and only one otherperson present, the meeting is adjourned. Mr. Shuckburgh protests moststrongly against the disgraceful custom of appropriating money collectedfor Church rates towards destroying vermin on the farms. " And this putan end to the custom. However, there were more rightful expenses. BeforeEaster there is paid "for washan the surples" 4_s. _ It would seem thatthe Holy Communion was celebrated four times a year, and that theElements were paid for every time at 3_s. _ 7_d. _ In 1784, when there wasa great improvement in spelling, there were some repairs done--"Paid forCommunion cloth, 10 pence, and for washing and marking it, 6p. " In 1786there was a new church bell, costing 5 pounds 5_s. _ 10_d. _ Aaron Chalk, whom some of the elder inhabitants may remember, a very feeble old manwalking with two sticks, was in that year one of the foremost traders insparrow heads. It gives a curious sense of the lapse of time to think ofthose tottering limbs active in bird catching. 

May 2, in 1783, we find the entry "paid for the caraidge of the old belland the new one downe from London, 11_s. _ 10_d. _ May 22--Paid WilliamBranding bill for hanging the new bell, 1 pounds 13_s. _" Altogether, atthe end of the year, it is recorded "the book in debt" 1 pounds 11_s. _, but "the disburstments, " as they are spelt, righted themselves in 1784, when we find "paid for musick for the use of the Church, 1 pounds 1_s. _To George Neal for whitewashing Church, 1 pounds 1_s. _, George Neale, twodays' work, 5_s. _ 3_d. _, for work in the gallery, 19_s. _ 4_d. _, bill fortiles, 3_s. _ 4_d. _"

The only connection Otterbourne has with any historical person is not apleasant one. The family of Smythe, Roman Catholics, long heldBrambridge, and they endowed a little Roman Catholic Chapel atHighbridge. At one time, a number of their tenants and servants were ofthe same communion, and there is a note in the parish register by thecurate to say that there were several families at Allbrook and Highbridgewhose children he had not christened, though he believed they had beenbaptized by the Roman Catholic priest. One of the daughters of theSmythe family was the beautiful Mrs. Fitz-Herbert, whom the Prince ofWales, afterwards George IV, was well known to have privately married. Henever openly avowed this, because by the law made in the time of WilliamIII, a marriage with a Roman Catholic disqualifies for the succession tothe crown; besides which, under George III, members of the royal familyhad been prohibited from marrying without the King's consent, and suchmarriages were declared null and void. The story is mentioned herebecause an idea has gone abroad that the wedding took place in the chapelat Highbridge, but this is quite untrue. The ceremony was performed atBrighton, and it is curious that the story of it having happened hereonly began to get afloat after the death of Mr. Newton, the last of theold servants who had known Mrs. Fitz-Herbert. Walter Smythe, herbrother, was one of the _detenus_ whom Napoleon I kept prisoners, thoughonly English travellers, on the rupture of the Peace of Amiens. Hisbrother, Charles, while taking care of the estate, had all the lime treesin the avenue pollarded, and sold the tops to make stocks for muskets. 

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In those days there was only a foot bridge across the Itchen atBrambridge. Carts and carriages had to ford the river, not straightacross, but making a slight curve downwards; this led to awkwardaccidents. There was a gentleman dining with Mr. Walter Smythe, who waspressed to sleep at Brambridge, but declined, saying that he liked tohave all his little comforts about him. When daylight came, the poor manwas found seated on the top of his chaise, the water flowing through thewindows below; for the post boy had taken a wrong turn, and, being afraidto move, had been forced to remain in the river till the morning. A farworse disaster befel the Newton family on their way to a funeral. It isdescribed by one of the bearers: "When the cart turned over, the corpsewas on the foot bridge. It was a very wet day, and the wind was blowingfuriously at the time. It had a great effect on the cart, as it was anarrow cart with a tilt on, and there was a long wood sill at the side ofthe river. That dropping of the sill caused the accident. I think therewere five females in the cart and the driver. The water was as much as4ft. Deep and running very sharp, so myself and others went into thewater to fetch them out, and when we got to the cart they were all on thetop of the other, with their heads just out of the water. They could notgo on to church with the corpse, and we had a very hard job to save thehorse from being drowned, as his head was but just out of the water. "

All through the time of the long war with France there was here, as wellas everywhere else around the coast, fear of a landing of the French. Theflat-bottomed boats to bring the French over were actually ready atBoulogne, and the troops mustered to come across in them. On our side, volunteers were in training in case of need, and preparations were madefor sending off the women and children inland on the first news of theenemy landing. Not very many years ago there were still to be seen in abarn at Hursley the planks prepared to fit as seats into the waggons thatwere to carry them away. And a family living here are said to have kepteverything packed up, even the fireirons, and to have stirred up the firewith a stick during a whole winter. However, by God's blessing and ourfleets and armies, the danger was kept from our doors. 

With the activity that followed upon the peace came a great deal of road-making. The present high road between Winchester and Southampton wasthen made, and the way cut through the hills--Otterbourne Hill andCompton Hill on either side. This led to the main part of theinhabitants settling in the village street, instead of round the oldChurch as before. Another great road was made at the same time--thatwhich crosses Golden Common and leads ultimately to Portsmouth. It usedto be called Cobbett's Road, because William Cobbett, a clever, self-taught man, had much to do with laying it out. Cobbett had a goodmany theories which he tried to put into practice, some sensible, othersmistaken. The principal traces we see of him now are in the trees thathe planted, chiefly introduced from America. He thought the robinia, orfalse acacia, would make good hedges, because of its long thorns andpower of throwing up suckers, and many people planted them, but theyproved too brittle to be of much use, though some are still growing. Hewas a friend of Mr. Harley, who then owned Otterbourne House, and plantedmany curious trees there, of which two long remained--a hickory nut and alarge tree in the drive. There was also an oak with enormous leaves, butit was planted so near the house that it had to be moved, and died inconsequence. 

These roads were for the coaches. Young folks, who never saw anythingnearer approaching to a stage coach than the drags some gentlemen keep, can hardly fancy what these stage coaches were--tall vehicles, holdingfour inside passengers and at least twelve outside and quantities ofluggage. They were drawn by four of the strongest and quickest horsesthat could be procured, and these were changed about every five or sixmiles, so as to keep up full speed. The coachman, generally a big, burlyman, with a face reddened by exposure to the weather, and often by aglass of ale at every stage, sat on the box in a drab coat, with manycapes one over the other. The seat next to him was the favourite onewith the passengers, and gentlemen would sometimes bribe coachmen to letthem drive; nay, some gentlemen actually took to the trade themselves. There was also a guard, who in mail coaches took care of the post bags, and dropped them at the places where they were intended for. In the dayswhen highwaymen infested the roads the guard had carried pistols, andstill the guard of the mail wore a red coat, and blew a horn on enteringany place to warn the people to bring out their post bags and exchangethem for others. 

One or two coaches kept their horses at the White Horse, so as to befresh for going up the hill, others at the Cricketers, while otherschanged at Compton and the New Hut. Some of the stables still remain, converted into cottages. The horses were fine animals, beautifully kept;but the habit of hanging about public-houses to attend to them was notgood for the ostlers and people concerned. About fifteen coaches camethrough this place in the morning, and their fellows in the evening, eachproprietor keeping two coaches, starting from the two opposite ends atthe same time. There was the Mail, the Telegraph, the Independent, theRed Rover, the Hirondelle, all London coaches, besides the Oxford coachand some that only ran between Winchester and Southampton. The driverand owner of one, Mason's coach, was only a few years ago living here. When people intended to go on a journey, they booked their places a dayor two beforehand, but for short journeys or going into Winchester theywould watch for a vacant space in a coach as it passed by. 

It is odd to look back at an old article in a quarterly review describingcoach travelling as something so swift and complete that it could not besurpassed in its perfection. Yet accidents with the spirited horses andrapid driving were not uncommon, and a fall from an overloaded coach wasa dangerous thing. 

When the mail went by coach the sending of letters and parcels could notbut be expensive. Heavy goods travelled by waggon, barge, or ship, parcels went by carriers or by coaches, and nothing could be posted butwhat was quite light. So postage was very expensive, and it is strangeto look back on the regulations connected with it. Our readers underforty years old will hardly believe the rates that were paid for postage, varying according to distance. There was a company in London thatcarried letters from one part of that town to another for twopenceapiece, and this was the cheapest post in England. A letter from Londonto Otterbourne cost eightpence, and one from Winchester either threepenceor fourpence, one from Devonshire elevenpence, and this was paid not bythe sender, but by the receiver. It was reckoned impolite to prepay aletter. Moreover, the letter had to be on a single sheet. The sheetmight be of any size that could be had, but it must be only one. A smallsheet enclosed within another, or the lightest thing, such as a lock ofhair or a feather, made it a double letter, for which double postage hadto be given. The usual custom was to write on quarto sheets twice thesize of what is used now, and, after filling three sides, to fold thefourth, leaving a space for the direction and the seal, and then to writeon the flaps and in the space over "My dear ---, " sometimes crossing thewriting till the whole letter was chequer work. For if the letter was tocost the receiver so much, it seemed fair to let him get as much aspossible. Letters were almost always sealed, and it took neat andpractised hands to fold and seal them nicely, without awkward cornerssticking out. 

Newspapers, if folded so as to show the red Government stamp, went for apenny, but nothing might be put into them, and not a word beyond theaddress written on them. The reason of all this was that the cost ofcarriage was then so great that it could only be made to answer by thosehigh rates, and by preventing everything but real letters and newspapersfrom being thus taken. As Government then, as now, was at the expense ofpostage, its own correspondence went free, and therefore all Members ofParliament had the privilege of sending letters freely. They wereallowed to post eleven a day, which might contain as much as would weighan ounce, without charge, if they wrote the date at the top and theirname in the right hand corner. This was called franking, and plenty ofletters by no means on public business travelled in that way. 

There was no post office in Otterbourne till between 1836 and 1840; for, of course there were few letters written or received, and thus it did notseem to many persons worth while for village children to learn to write. If they did go into service at a distance from home, their letters wouldcost more than their friends could afford to pay. This was a sad thing, and broke up and cut up families very much more than any distance doesnow. It really is easier to keep up intercourse with a person in Americaor even New Zealand now, than it was then with one in Scotland, Northumberland, or Cornwall; for travelling was so expensive that visitscould seldom be made, and servants could not go to their homes unlessthey were within such a short distance as to be able to travel by coachor by carrier's cart, or even walking all the way, getting a cast now andthen by a cart. 

People who did not travel by coaches, or who went where there was nocoach, hired post-chaises, close carriages something like flies. Mostinns, where the coaches kept their horses, possessed a post-chaise, andwere licensed to let out post horses for hire. Most of the gentlefolks'families kept a close carriage called a chariot, and, if they did notkeep horses of their own, took a pair of post-horses, one of which wasridden by a man, who, whatever might be his age, was always called a post-boy. Some inns dressed their post-boys in light blue jackets, some inyellow ones, according to their politics, but the shape was always thesame; corduroy tights, top boots, and generally white (or rather drab-coloured) hats. It used to be an amusement to watch whether the post-boywould be a blue or a yellow one at each fresh stage. Hardly any oneknows what a post-boy was like now, far less an old-fashioned travellingcarriage or chariot and its boxes. 

The travelling carriage was generally yellow. It had two good seatsinside, and a double one had a second seat, where two persons satbackwards. The cushion behind lifted up and disclosed a long narrowrecess called the swordcase, because, when there were highwaymen on theroads, people kept their weapons there. There were sometimes two, sometimes one seat outside, called the box and the dickey--much thepleasantest places, for it was very easy to feel sick and giddy inside. Acurved splashboard went up from the bottom of the chariot to a level withthe window, and within it fitted what was called the cap box, with acurved bottom, so that when in a house it had to be set down in a frameto hold it upright. A big flat box, called the imperial, in which ladiesput their dresses, was on the top of the carriage, two more long, narrowones, generally used for shoes and linen, fitted under the seat, andanother square one was hung below the dickey at the back, and called thedrop box. Such a mischance has been known as, on an arrival, a servantcoming in with the remains of this black box between his arms, saying--"Sir, should not this box have a bottom to it?" The chariot thuscarried plenty of goods, and was a sort of family home on a journey. Togo to Plymouth, which now can be done in six or seven hours, thenoccupied two long days, halting for the night to sleep at an inn. 

The Old Church

Some of us can still remember the old Church and the old Sunday habitsprevailing before 1830. The Churchyard was large and very pretty, thoughill kept, surrounded with a very open railing, and with the banks slopingtowards the water meadows clothed with fine elm trees--one with a largeand curious excrescence on the bark. There was a deep porch on the southside of the Church, with seats on each side. Then, on red tiles, oneentered between two blocks of pews of old brown unpainted oak (theirdoors are panels to the roof of the boys' school). In the space betweenthem were two or three low benches for the children. There were threearches leading to the chancel, but that on the south side was closed bythe pulpit and reading desk, and that on the north by a square pewbelonging to Cranbury. Within the chancel on the north side was a largepew lined with red, belonging to Cranbury, and on the south, first theclerk's desk, then a narrow seat of the clergyman's, and then a largesquare pew. Boys in the morning and men in the afternoon used to sit onthe benches placed outside these, and beyond was the rail shutting in theAltar, which was covered with red cloth, and stood below a large window, on each side of which were the Commandments in yellow letters on a blueground, and on the wall were painted the two texts, "The Cup of Blessing, is it not the Communion of the Blood of Christ?" and "The Bread which webreak, is it not the Communion of the Body of Christ?" The vestry wasbuilt out to the north, and was entered from the sanctuary. 

Further space was provided by two galleries, one on the north side, supported on iron poles, and entered from the outside by a step ladderstudded with large square-headed nails to prevent it from being slippery. The other went across the west end, and was entered by a dark staircaseleading up behind the pews, which further led to the little squareweather-boarded tower containing two beautifully toned bells. These wererung from the outer gallery where the men sat. There was a part boardedoff for the singers. The Font was nearly under the gallery. It was ofwhite marble, and still lines our present Font. Tradition says it wasgiven by a former clerk, perhaps Mr. Fidler, but there is no record ofit. An older and much ruder Font was hidden away under the gallerystairs close to an old chest, where women sometimes found a seat, againstthe west wall. 

In those days, now more than half a century ago, when ArchdeaconHeathcote was Vicar, he or his Curate used to ride over from Hursley onSunday for the service at Otterbourne. There was only one service, alternately in the morning and afternoon, at half-past ten or at three, or in the winter at half-past two. The time was not much fixed, for on anew comer asking when the service would take place, the answer was "athalf-past two, sir, or at three, or else no time at all, " by which wasmeant no exact hour or half-hour. This uncertainty led to the bellsnever being rung till the minister was seen turning the corner of Kiln-lane, just where the large boulder stone used to be. The congregationwas, however, collecting, almost all the men in white smocks withbeautifully worked breasts and backs, the more well-to-do in velveteen;the women in huge bonnets. The elder ones wore black silk or satinbonnets, with high crowns and big fronts, the younger ones, straw withribbon crossed over, always with a bonnet cap under. A red cloak was theregular old women's dress, or a black or blue one, and sometimes a squareshawl, folded so as to make a triangle, over a gown of stuff in winter, print in summer. A blue printed cotton with white or yellow sprays wasthe regular week day dress, and the poorest wore it on Sundays. Thelittle girls in the aisle had the like big coarse straw bonnets, with astrip of glazed calico hemmed and crossed over for strings, roundtippets, and straight print frocks down to their feet. The boys were insmall smocks, of either white or green canvas, with fustian or corduroyjackets or trowsers below, never cloth. Gloves and pocket handkerchiefswere hardly known among the children, hardly an umbrella, far lessparasols or muffs. Ladies had pelisses for out-of-door wear, fittingclose like ulsters, but made of dark green or purple silk or merino, andwhite worked dresses under them in summer. 

Well, the congregation got into Church--three families by the step ladderto one gallery, and the men into another, where the front row squeezedtheir knees through the rails and leant on the top bar, the rest of theworld in the pews, and the children on benches. The clerk was in hisdesk behind the reading desk--good George Oxford, with his calm, good, gentle face, and tall figure, sadly lame from rheumatism caught whenworking in the brick kilns. His voice was always heard above the othersin the responses, but our congregation never had dropped the habit ofresponding, and, though there was no chanting, the Amens and some of theVersicles used to have a grand full musical sound peculiar to thatChurch. People also all turned to the east for the Creed, few knelt, butsome of the elder men stood during the prayers, and, though there was fartoo much _sitting down_ during the singing, every body got up and stood, if "Hallelujah" occurred, as it often did in anthems. 

There were eight or ten singers, and they had a bassoon, a flute, and aclarionet. They used to sing before the Communion Service in themorning, after the Second Lesson in the afternoon, and before eachSermon. Master Oxford had a good voice, and was wanted in the choir, soas soon as the General Thanksgiving began, he started off from his seat, and might be heard going the length of the nave, climbing the stairs, andcrossing the outer gallery. Sometimes he took his long stick with him, and gave a good stripe across the straw bonnet of any particularlynaughty child. In the gallery he proclaimed--"Let us sing to the praiseand glory of God in the Psalm, " then giving the first line. 

The Psalms were always from the New or Old Versions. A slate with thenumber in chalk was also hung out--23 O. V. , 112 N. V. , as the case mightbe. About four verses of each were sung, the last lines over and overagain, some very oddly divided. For instance--

 "Shall fix the place where we must dwell, The pride of Jacob, His delight, "

was sung thus:--

 "The pride of Ja--the pride of Ja--the pride of Ja--" (at least three times before the line was ended). 

But rough as these were, some of these Psalms were very dear to us all, specially the old twenty-third:--

 "My Shepherd is the living Lord, Nothing, therefore, I need, In pastures fair, by pleasant streams He setteth me to feed. 

 He shall convert and glad my soul, And bring my soul in frame To walk in paths of holiness, For His most Holy Name. 

 I pass the gloomy vale of death, From fear and danger free; For there His guiding rod and staff Defend and comfort me. "

Another much-loved one was the 121st:--

 "To Zion's hill I lift my eyes, From thence expecting aid, From Zion's hill and Zion's God, Who heaven and earth hath made. 

 Sheltered beneath the Almighty's wings, Thou shall securely rest, Where neither sun nor moon shall thee By day nor night molest. 

 Then thou, my soul, in safety rest, Thy Guardian will not sleep, His watchful care, that Israel guards, Shall Israel's monarch keep. 

 At home, abroad, in peace or war, Thy God shall thee defend, Conduct thee through life's pilgrimage, Safe to thy journey's end. "

Will the sight of these lines bring back to any one the old tune, the oldsounds, the old sights of the whitewashed Church, and old John Green inthe gallery, singing with his bass voice, with all his might, hiseyebrows moving as he sung? And then the Commandments and Ante-Communionread not from the Altar, but the desk; the surplice taken off in the deskinstead of the Vestry; Master Oxford's announcements shouted out from hisplace, generally after the Second Lesson--"I hereby give notice that aVestry Meeting will be held on Tuesday, at twelve o'clock, to make a newrate for the relief of the poo-oor. " "I hereby give notice that EveningService will be at half-past two as long as the winter days are short. "Well, we should think these things odd now, and we have much to bethankful for in the changes; but there were holy and faithful ones then, and Master Oxford was one of them. 

In the days here described, from 1820 to 1827, few small villages hadanything but dame schools, and Otterbourne children, such as had anyschooling at all, were sent to Mrs. Yates's school on the hill, where shesat, the very picture of the old-fashioned mistress, in her black silkbonnet, with the children on benches before her, and her rod at hand. 

Several families, however, did not send the children to school at all, and there were many who could not read, many more who could not write, and there was very little religious teaching, except that in the Sundayafternoons in Lent, the catechism was said in Church by the bestinstructed children, but without any explanation. 

About the year 1819 Mrs. Bargus and her daughter came to live atOtterbourne, and in 1822 Miss Bargus married William Crawley Yonge, whohad retired from the army, after serving in the Peninsula and atWaterloo. Both Mr. And Mrs. Yonge had clergymen for their fathers, andwere used to think much of the welfare of their neighbours. It was not, however, till 1823 that Mrs. Yonge saw her way to beginning a littleSunday School for girls, teaching it all by herself, in a room by what isnow Mr. J. Misselbrook's house. While there was still only one Serviceon Sundays, she kept the school on the vacant half of the day, readingthe Psalms and Lessons to the children, who were mostly biggish girls. This was when Archdeacon Heathcote was the Vicar of Hursley andOtterbourne, and the Rev. Robert Shuckburgh was his Curate. Archdeaconand Mrs. Heathcote, who were most kind and liberal, gave every help andassisted in setting up the Clothing Club. 

Mrs. Yonge's first list of Easter prizes contains twenty names of girls, and the years that have passed have left but few of them here. A largeBible bound in plain brown leather was the highest prize; Prayer Books, equally unornamented, New Testaments, and Psalters, being bookscontaining only the Psalms and Matins and Evensong, were also given, andwere then, perhaps, more highly valued than the dainty little colouredbooks every one now likes to have for Sunday. Then there were frocks, coarse straw bonnets, and sometimes pocket handkerchiefs, for these werenot by any means such universal possessions as could be wished, and onlycame out on Sunday. As to gloves, silk handkerchiefs, parasols, muffs, or even umbrellas, the children thought them as much out of their reachas a set of pearls or diamonds, but what was worse, their outer clothingwas very insufficent, seldom more than a thin cotton frock and tippet, and the grey duffle cloaks, which were thought a great possession, wereboth slight and scanty. 

About 1826, Mrs. Yonge was looking at the bit of waste land that had onceserved as a roadway to the field at the back of Otterbourne House, whenshe said, "How I wish I had money enough to build a school here. " "Well, "said Mrs. Bargus, "You shall have what I can give. " The amount wassmall, but with it Mr. Yonge contrived to put up one room with two newsmall ones at the back, built of mud rough cast, and with a brick floor, except for the little bedroom being raised a step, and boarded. 

The schoolroom was intended to hold all the children who did not go toMrs. Yates, both boys and girls, and it was sufficient, for, in the firstplace, nobody from Fryern-hill came. Mrs. Green had a separate littleschool there. Then the age for going to school was supposed to be six. If anyone sent a child younger, the fee was threepence instead of apenny. The fee for learning writing and arithmetic was threepence, forthere was a general opinion that they were of little real use, and thatwriting letters would waste time (as it sometimes certainly does). Besides this, the eldest daughter of a family was always minding thebaby, and never went to school; and boys were put to do what theirmothers called "keeping a few birds" when very small indeed, while otherfamilies were too rough to care about education so that the numbers wereseldom over thirty. 

There were no such people as trained mistresses then. The NationalSociety had a school for masters, but they were expensive and could onlybe employed in large towns; so all that could be looked for was a kind, motherly, good person who could read and do needlework well. And thefirst mistress was Mrs. Creswick, a pleasant-looking person with a paleface and dark eyes, who had been a servant at Archdeacon Heathcote's, andhad since had great troubles. She did teach the Catechism, reading, andwork when the children were tolerably good and obeyed her, but boys werea great deal too much for her, and she had frail health, and such a badleg that she never could walk down the lane to the old Church. So, afterSunday School, the children used to straggle down to Church withoutanyone to look after them, and sit on the benches in the aisle and dopretty much what they pleased, except when admonished by Master Oxford'sstick. 

Mr. Shuckburgh had by this time come to reside in the parish, in thehouse which is now the post-office, and there was at last a doubleService on the Sunday. 

The next thing was to consider what was to be done about the boys, whocould not be made to mind Mrs. Creswick. A row of the biggest sat at theback of the school, with their heels to the wall, and by constant kickinghad almost knocked a hole through the mud wall; so the Vicar, who was nowthe Archdeacon's son, the Rev. Gilbert Wall Heathcote, gave permissionfor the putting up another mud and rough cast school house near the oldChurch, for the boys, in an empty part of the Churchyard to the north-east, where no one had ever been buried. 

However, there Master Oxford was installed as schoolmaster, coming allthe way down from his house on the hill (a pretty-timbered cottage, nowpulled down). He and his boys had a long way to walk to their school, but he taught them all he knew and set them a good example. The boyswere all supposed to go to him at six years old, and most were proud ofthe promotion. One little fellow was known to go to bed an hour or twoearlier that he might be six years old the sooner! But some dreaded thegood order enforced by the stick. There was one boy in particular, whohad outgrown the girls' school, and was very troublesome there. He wouldnot go to the boys', and his mother would not make him, saying she fearedhe would fall into the water. "Well, " said Mrs. Bargus, who was a mostbright, kindly old lady of eighty, "I'll make him go. " So she took alarge piece of yellow glazed calico intended for furniture lining, walkedup to school, and held it up to the little boy. She said she heard thathe would only go to the girls' school, and, since everybody went there inpetticoats, she had brought some stuff to make him a petticoat too! Theyoung man got up and walked straight off to the boys' school. 

Here are some verses, written by Mrs. Yonge in 1838, on one of the sightsthat met her eye in the old Churchyard:--

 While on the ear the solemn note Of prayer and praises heavenward float, A butterfly with brilliant wings A lesson full of meaning brings, A sermon to the eye. 

 There on an infant's grave it stands, For it hath burst the shroud's dull bands, Its vile worm's body there is left, Of gross earth's habits now bereft It soars into the sky. 

 Thus when the grave her dead shall give The little form below shall live, Clothed in a robe of dazzling white Shall spring aloft on wings of light, To realms above shall fly!

Changes were setting in all this time. The rick-burnings, in which somany foolish persons indulged, was going on in 1831 in many parts ofHampshire. They were caused partly by dislike to the threshing machinesthat were beginning to be used, and partly by the notion that suchdisturbances would lead to the passing of the Reform Bill, which ignorantmen believed would give every poor man a fat pig in his stye. There wasno rick-burning here, though some of the villagers joined the bands ofmen who wandered about the country demanding money and arms at the largehouses. But, happily, none of them were actually engaged in anyviolence, and none of them swelled the calendar of the Special Assizethat took place at Winchester for the trial of the rioters. 

One poor maid-servant in the parish, from the North of Hampshire, had, however, two brothers, who were intelligent men of some education, andwho, having been ringleaders, were both sentenced to death. The sentencewas, however, commuted to transportation for life. At Sydney, being of avery different class from the ordinary convict, they prospered greatly, and their letters were very interesting. They were wonderful feats ofpenmanship, for postage from Australia was ruinously expensive, and theyfilled sheets of paper with writing that could hardly be read without amicroscope. If we had those letters now they would be curious records ofthe early days of the Colony, but all now recollected is the account of alittle kangaroo jumping into a hunter's open shirt, thinking it was hismother's pouch. 

The Reform Bill, after all, when passed made no present difference inOtterbourne life--nothing like the difference that a measure a few yearsafter effected, namely, the Poor-law Amendment Bill. Not many peoplehere remember the days of the old Poor-law, when whatever a pauper familywanted was supplied from the rates, and thus an idle man often lived moreat his ease on other people's money than an industrious man on his ownearnings. It was held that if wages were small they might be helped outof the rates, and thus the ratepayers were often ruined. In the midst ofthe street stood the old Poorhouse. It had no governor nor anyone to seethat order was kept or work done there, and everybody that was homeless, or lazy, or disreputable, drifted in there. They went in and out as theypleased, and had a weekly allowance of money. Now and then there was agreat row among them. One room was inhabited by an old man named Strong, who was considered a wonder because he ate adders cut up like eels andstewed with a bit of bacon. Every now and then a message would come inthat old Strong had got a couple of nice adders and wanted a bit of baconto cook with them. Then there was a large family whose father neverworked for any one long together, and lived in the Workhouse, with a wifeand six or seven children, supported by the parish. These people werepursuaded to go to Manchester, where there was sure to be work in thefactories for all their many girls. The men in receipt of parish paywere supposed to have work found for them on the roads, but there was notmuch of this to employ them, and as they were paid all the same whetherthey worked or not, some were said to hammer the stones as if they wereafraid of hurting them, or to make the wheeling a couple of barrows ofchalk their whole day's work. 

A good deal depended on the vestry management of each parish, and therewas less of flagrant idleness supported by the rates here than at manyplaces. There was also a well-built and arranged Workhouse at Hursley, and the Poor law Commissioners consented to make one small Union ofHursley, Otterbourne, Farley, and Baddesley, instead of throwing theminto a large one. 

The discontinuance of out-door relief to help out the wages was a greatshock at first, but, when the ratepayers were no longer weighed down, they could give more work and better wages, and the labourers thusprofited in the end, and likewise began to learn more independence. Stillthe times were hard then. Few families could get on unless the mother aswell as the father did field work, and thus she had no time to attendthoroughly to making home comfortable, mending the clothes, or takingcare of the little ones. The eldest girl was kept at home dragging aboutwith the baby, and often grew rough as well as ignorant, and the cottagewas often very little cared for. The notion of what was comfortable andsuitable was very different then. 

The country began to be intersected by railways, and the South-Westernline was marked out to Southampton. The course was dug out from Shawfordand Compton downs, and the embankment made along our valley. It wascurious to see the white line creeping on, as carts filled with chalk ranfrom the diggings to the end, tipped over their contents, and returnedagain. When the foundations were dug for the arch spanning the lane theholes filled with water as fast as they were made, and nothing could bedone till the two long ditches had been dug to carry off the water toAllbrook. In the course of making them in the light peaty earth, somebones of animals and (I believe) stags' horns were found, but unluckily, were thrown away, instead of being shown to anyone who would have madeout from them much of the history of the formation of the boggy earththat forms the water meadows. 

{The Old Church, Otterbourne: p32. Jpg}

It is amusing to remember the kind of dread that was felt at first ofrailway travelling. It was thought that the engines would blow up, and, as an old coachman is reported to have said, "When a coach is overturned, there you are; but when an engine blows up, where are you?" He certainlywas so far right that a coach accident was fatal to fewer persons than arailway accident generally is. 

The railway passed so near the old Church that the noise of the trainswould be inconvenient on Sundays. At least, so thought those withinexperienced ears, though many a Church has since been built much nearerto the line. However, this fixed the purpose that had already beenforming, of endeavouring to build a new Church. The first idea had beenof trying to raise 300 pounds to enlarge the old Church, but the distancefrom the greater part of the parish was so inconvenient, and the railroadso near, that the building of a new Church was finally decided on. Therereally was not room for the men and boys at the same time on the backlessforms they occupied between the pews in the chancel. Moreover, if aperson was found sitting in a place to which another held that he or shehad a right, the owner never thought of looking for another placeelsewhere, and the one who was turned out went away displeased, anddeclared that it was impossible to come to church for fear of "beingupset. " It is strange and sad that people are so prone to forget whatour Master told us about "taking the highest room, " even in His ownHouse. 

But besides the want of accommodation, the old Church was at aninconvenient distance from the parish. No doubt there had once been morehouses near, but when the cottage inhabited by old Aaron Chalk was pulleddown, nothing remained near but Otterbourne Farm and the Moat House. Every one living elsewhere had to walk half a mile, some much more, andthough Kiln Lane was then much better shaded with fine trees than it isnow, it was hard work on a hot or wet Sunday to go twice. Some of us mayrecollect one constant churchgoer, John Rogers, who was so lame as torequire two sticks to walk with, and had to set out an hour beforehand, yet who seldom missed. 

Just at this time the Reverend John Keble became Vicar of Hursley, andOtterbourne, and forwarded the plan of church building with all hismight. 

Few new churches had been built at that time, so that there waseverything to be learnt, while subscriptions were being collected fromevery quarter. Magdalen College, at Oxford, gave the site as well as ahandsome subscription, and every endeavour was made to render the newbuilding truly church like. It was during the building that Dr. Rowth, the President of Magdalen College, coming to hold his court at the MoatHouse, had the model of the church brought out to him and took greatinterest in it. He is worth remembering, for he was one of the wisestand most learned men in Oxford, and he lived to be nearly a hundred yearsold. Church building was a much more difficult thing then than it isnow, when there are many architects trained in the principles of churchbuilding, and materials of all kinds are readily provided. 

The cross form was at once fixed on as most suitable; and the little bellturret was copied from one at a place called Corston. Mr. Owen Carter, an architect at Winchester, drew the plans, with the constant watchingand direction of Mr. Yonge, who attended to every detail. The whitestone, so fit for carving decorations, which had been used in theCathedral, is imported from Caen, in Normandy. None had been broughtover for many years, till a correspondence was opened with the people atthe quarries, and blocks bought for the reredos and font. Now it isconstantly used. 

The panels of the pulpit, with the carvings of the Blessed Virgin, andthe four Latin fathers, SS. Ambrose, Augustine, Jerome, and Gregory theGreat, were found in a shop for antiquities in London. The shape wasadapted to a sounding board, which had been made for the Cathedral, butwas rejected there. The altar-rail also was found in a shop. It mustpreviously have been in a church, as it has the sacramental corn andgrapes. It is thought to be old Flemish work, and represents a prince onone side with a crown laid down, as he kneels in devotion, and someladies on the opposite side. The crown is an Emperor's, and there is thecollar of the Golden Fleece round his neck, so that it is probably meantfor either the Emperor Maximilian or his grandson, Charles V. One of thegentlemen kneeling behind the Emperor has a beautiful face of adoration. 

The building of the Church took about two years, the first stone beinglaid at the north-east corner. It was begun on the 16th of May, 1837, and it was ready for consecration on the 30th of July, 1839. Thebuilding had been prosperous, the only accident being the crushing of athumb when the pulpit was set in its place. 

The new boys' school was built at the same time, the archway of the southdoor of the old Church being used for the doorway, so as to preserve thebeautiful and peculiar decoration, and the roof was lined with the doorsand backs of the old oak-pewing. In the flints collected for thebuilding of this and of the wall round the churchyard there was a waterwagtail's nest in which a young cuckoo was reared, having, of course, turned out the rightful nestling. Probably it flew safely, for the lasttime it was seen its foster parents were luring it out with greencaterpillars held a little way from the nest. 

The expense of the building of the boys' school and of a new room for thegirls was defrayed chiefly by a bazaar held at Winchester. There were atthat time no Education Acts nor Government requirements, and thebuildings would be deemed entirely unfit at this time even for thenumbers who then used them, and who did not amount to more than betweenthirty and forty boys and fifty or sixty girls and infants, togetherabout a third of the present numbers at school in Otterbourne andAllbrook. Miss Tucker was then the mistress; Master Oxford still themaster. 

The Church was consecrated on the 30th of July, 1839, by Bishop Sumner, who preached a sermon on the text, "No man careth for my soul, " warningus that we could not plead such an excuse for ourselves, if we neglectedto walk in the right way. 

One of the earliest funerals in the churchyard was that of good oldOxford, old, as he was called, because he was crippled by rheumatism, buthe was only fifty-two. He lies buried near the south gate of thechurchyard under a large slate recording his name. 

He was followed in his office by Mr. William Stainer, who had hithertobeen known as a baker, living in the house which is now Mr. JamesGodwin's. His bread was excellent, and he was also noted for what werecalled Otterbourne buns, the art of making which seems to have gone withhim. They were small fair-complexioned buns, which stuck together inparties of three, and when soaked, expanded to twice or three times theirformer size. He used to send them once or twice a week to Winchester. But though baking was his profession, he did much besides. He was a realold-fashioned herbalist, and had a curious book on the virtues of plants, and he made decoctions of many kinds, which he administered to those inwant of medicine. Before the Poor Law provided Union doctors, medicaladvice, except at the hospital, was almost out of reach of the poor. Mr. And Mrs. Yonge, like almost all other beneficent gentlefolks in villages, kept a medicine chest and book, and doctored such cases as they couldventure on, and Mr. Stainer was in great favour as practitioner, as manyof our elder people can remember. He was exceedingly charitable andkind, and ready to give his help so far as he could. He was a greatlover of flowers, and had contrived a sort of little greenhouse over thegreat oven at the back of his house, and there he used to bring up lovelygeraniums and other flowers, which he sometimes sold. He was a deeplyreligious and devout man, and during Master Oxford's illness took hisplace in Church, which was more important when there was no choir and thesingers sat in the gallery. He was very happy in this office, movingabout on felt shoes that he might make no noise, and most reverentlykeeping the Church clean and watching over it in every way. He alsocontinued in the post of schoolmaster, which at first he had only takentemporarily, giving up part of his business to his nephew. But he stillsat up at night baking, and he also had other troubles: there wasinsanity in his family, and he was much harassed. 

His kindness and simplicity were sometimes abused. He never had theheart to refuse to lend money, or to deny bread on credit to hopelessdebtors; and altogether debts, distress, baking all night, and schoolkeeping all day, were too much for him. The first hint of an examinationof his school completed the mischief, and he died insane. It is a sadstory, but many of us will remember with affectionate regard the good, kind, quaint, and most excellent little man. By that time ourschoolmistress was Mrs. Durndell, the policeman's wife, a severe woman, but she certainly made the girls do thoroughly whatever she taught, especially repetition and needlework. 

The examiner on religious subjects, Mr. Allen, afterwards an Archdeacon, reported that the girls had an unusual knowledge of the text ofScripture, but that he did not think them equally intelligent as to themeaning. 

Daily Service had been commenced when the new Church was opened, and thechildren of the schools attended it. There was also a much largercongregation of old men than have ever come in later years. At one timethere were nine constantly there. One of these, named Passingham, whoused to ring the bell for matins and evensong, was said to have been thestrongest man in the parish, and to have carried two sacks of corn overthe common on the top of the hill in his youth. He was still a heartyold man at eighty-six, when after ringing the bell one morning as usual, he dropped down on the hill in a fit and died in a few seconds. 

There was not much change for a good many years. In 1846, the ParsonageHouse was built and given to the living by Mr. Keble. The stained glassof the south window of the Church was given by the Reverend John Yonge, of Puslinch, Rector of Newton Ferrers, in Devonshire, in memory of hisyoungest son, Edmund Charles, who died at Otterbourne House in 1847. Thirteen years previously, in 1834, the eldest son, James Yonge, hadlikewise died at Otterbourne House. Both the brothers lie buried here, one in the old churchyard, one in the new. They are commemorated intheir own church at Newton by a tablet with the inscription--"What I dothou knowest not now, but thou shall know hereafter. "

In 1834 their father gave what made, as it were the second foundation ofthe Lending Library, for there were about four-and-twenty very seriousbooks, given in Archdeacon Heathcote's time, kept in the vestry at theold Church. They looked as if they had been read but only by the elderpeople who liked a grave book, and there was nothing there meant for theyoung people. So there were a good many new books bought, and weeklygiven out at the Penny Club, with more or less vigour, for the nextthirty years or so. 

The next public matter that greatly affected this place was the CrimeanWar. It was a large proportion of our young men who were more or lessconcerned in it. Captain Denzill Chamberlayne in the Cavalry, Lieut. Julian B. Yonge, John Hawkins, Joseph Knight, James and William Mason, and it was in the midst of the hurry and confusion of the departure thatthe death of Mr. W. C. Yonge took place, February 26th, 1854. Three ofthose above mentioned lived to return home. Captain Chamberlayne sharedin the famous charge of the Light Brigade, at Balaclava, when

 Into the jaws of death Rode the six hundred: Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Volleyed and thundered. 

His horse, Pimento, was killed under him, but he escaped without a wound, and on his return home was drawn up to the house by the people, and had areception which made such an impression on the children that when one wasasked in school what a hero was, she answered, "Captain Chamberlayne. "

John Hawkins, Joseph Knight, and William Mason died in the Crimea. Atablet to commemorate them was built into the wall of the churchyard, with the text--"It is good for a man that he bear the yoke in his youth, "for the discipline of the army had been very good for these youths, and, therefore, this verse was chosen for them by Mr. Keble. 

The next event that concerned the parish much was the death of the greatand holy man who had been our rector for thirty years. Mr. Keble died atBournemouth on the 29th of March, 1866. His manners and language werealways so simple, and his humility so great, that many of those who camein contact with him never realized how great a man he was, not being ableto perceive that the very deepest thoughts might be clothed in theplainest language. Some felt, in the words of the poem, --

 "I came and saw, and having seen, Weak heart! I drew offence From thy prompt smile, thy humble mien, Thy lowly diligence. "

But none who really knew him could fail to be impressed with the sense ofhis power, his wisdom, his love, and, above all, his holiness; and his_Christian Year_ will always be a fund of consolation, full ofsuggestions of good and devotional thoughts and deeds. Mrs. Keble, whowas already very ill, followed him to her rest on the 11th of May. Itmay be worth remembering that the last time she wrote her name was asignature to a petition against licensing marriage with a deceased wife'ssister. 

Sir William Heathcote then appointed the Reverend James G. Young as Vicarof Hursley and Otterbourne. A fresh tide of change began to set in. Astimes altered and population increased, and as old things and peoplepassed away, there were various changes in the face of the village. TheGovernment requirements made it necessary to erect a new Girl's School, and land was permanently secured for the purpose, and this was donechiefly by subscription among the inhabitants, affording a room largeenough for parish meetings and lectures, as well as for its directpurpose. The subscription was as a testimonial to the Rev. William Bigg-Wither, who had been thirty years curate of the parish, and under whommany of the changes for the better were worked out. The building wasprovided with a tower, in case there should ever be a clock given to theparish. 

The clock was given in a manner worthy of remembrance. Mr. William Pink, as a thatcher, and his two sisters in service, had saved enough toprovide for their old age, and to leave a considerable overplus, out ofwhich the last survivor, Mrs. Elizabeth Pink, when passing away at a goodold age, bequeathed enough to provide the parish with the clock whosevoice has already become one of our most familiar sounds. 

Allbrook was by this time growing into a large hamlet, and a schoolchapel was then built, chiefly by Mr. Wheeler. We must not forget thatwe had for five years the great and excellent Samuel Wilberforce for ourBishop, and that he twice held confirmations in our parish. No one canforget the shock of his sudden call. One moment he was calling hiscompanion's attention to the notes of a late singing nightingale; thenext, his horse had stumbled and he was gone. It was remarkable thatshortly before he had, after going over the hospital, spoken with dreadof what he called the "humiliation of a lingering illness"--exactly whathe was spared. 

Bishop Harold Browne came from Ely to take the See of Winchester. Hereconsecrated our church when the chancel was enlarged and the new aisleadded. He carried on vigorously work only begun under BishopWilberforce. Under him Diocesan Synods, the Girls' Friendly Society, andthe Examination of Senior Scholars in Religious Knowledge have all shownhis diligent oversight as Shepherd of the flock. 

In the year 1875 Sir William Heathcote succeeded in bringing about anarrangement by which Otterbourne could be separated from Hursley and havea Vicar of its own, the difference of income being made up to the Vicarof Hursley. This was done by the aid of a munificent lady, Mrs. Gibbs, the widow of one of the great merchant princes, whose wealth was alwaystreated as a trust from God. She became the patron of the living, andthe advowson remains in her family. 

The first Vicar was the Reverend Walter Francis Elgie, who had alreadybeen six years curate, and had won the love and honour of all his flock. Deeply did they all mourn him when it was God's will to take him fromthem on the 25th of February, 1881, in the 43rd year of his age, afterten years of zealous work. 

It was felt as remarkable that a young pupil teacher in consumption, whomhe had sent to the Home at Bournemouth, was taken on the same day, andburied here the day after, and that the schoolmaster, Walter Fisher, aman of gentle and saintly nature, followed him six weeks after. 

 We left them in the Church's shade, Our standard-bearer true, And near at hand the gentle maid Who well his guidance knew. 

 He fainted in the noon of life, Nor knew his victory won; She was fresh girded for the strife, Her battle scarce begun. 

 Long had we known Death's angel hand The maiden's brow had seal'd; He fell, like chief of warrior band, Struck down on battle-field. 

 So in God's acre here they meet As they have met above, Tasting beneath their Saviour's feet The treasures of His love. 

 For what they learnt and taught of here Is present with them there; May we speed on in faith and fear, Then heavenly rest to share. 

With the coming of our present Vicar, the Rev. H. W. Brock, ourOtterbourne story ends, as the times are no longer _old times_. Thewater works for the supply of Southampton are our last novelty, by whichsuch of us benefit, as either themselves or their landlords pay a smallcontribution. They have given us some red buildings at one end and onthe Hill a queer little round tower containing the staircase leading tothe underground reservoir, a wonderful construction of circles of brickpillars and arches, as those remember who visited it before the water waslet in. And, verily, we may be thankful that our record has so fewevents in it, no terrible disasters, but that there has been peace andhealth and comfort, more than falls to the lot of many a parish. Trulywe may thankfully say, "The lot is fallen unto me in a fair ground, yea, I have a goodly heritage. "

{Birds on fence: p42. Jpg}

Old Remembrances. 

{Bridges over river: p43. Jpg}

I remember, I remember, Old times at Otterbourne, Before the building of the Church, And when smock frocks were worn!

I remember, I remember, When railroads there were none, When by stage coach at early dawn The journey was begun. 

And through the turnpike roads till eve Trotted the horses four, With inside passengers and out They carried near a score. 

"Red Rover" and the "Telegraph, " We knew them all by name, And Mason's and the Oxford coach, Full thirty of them came. 

The coachman wore his many capes, The guard his bugle blew;The horses were a gallant sight, Dashing upon our view. 

I remember, I remember, The posting days of old;The yellow chariot lined with blue And lace of colour gold. 

The post-boys' jackets blue or buff, The inns upon the road;The hills up which we used to walk To lighten thus the load. 

The rattling up before the inn, The horses led away, The post-boy as he touched his hat And came to ask his pay. 

The perch aloft upon the box, Delightful for the view;The turnpike gates whose keepers stood Demanding each his due. 

I remember, I remember, When ships were beauteous things, The floating castles of the deep Borne upon snow-white wings;

Ere iron-clads and turret ships, Ugly as evil dream, Became the hideous progeny Of iron and of steam. 

You crossed the Itchen ferry All in an open boat, Now, on a panting hissing bridge You scarcely seem afloat. 

Southampton docks were sheets of mud, Grim colliers at the quay. No tramway, and no slender pier To stretch into the sea. 

I remember, I remember, Long years ere Rowland Hill, When letters covered quarto sheets Writ with a grey goose quill;

Both hard to fold and hard to read, Crossed to the scarlet seal;Hardest of all to pay for ere Their news they might reveal. 

No stamp with royal head was there, But eightpence was the sumFor every letter, all alike, That did from London come!

I remember, I remember, The mowing of the hay;Scythes sweeping through the heavy grass At breaking of the day. 

The haymakers in merry ranks Tossing the swaths so sweet, The haycocks tanning olive-brown In glowing summer heat. 

The reapers 'mid the ruddy wheat, The thumping of the flail, The winnowing within the barn By whirling round a sail. 

Long ere the whirr, and buz, and rush Became a harvest sound, Or monsters trailed their tails of spikes, Or ploughed the fallow ground. 

Our sparks flew from the flint and steel, No lucifers were known, Snuffers with tallow candles came To prune the wick o'ergrown. 

Hands did the work of engines then, But now some new machineMust hatch the eggs, and sew the seams, And make the cakes, I ween. 

I remember, I remember, The homely village school, The dame with spelling book and rod, The sceptre of her rule. 

A black silk bonnet on her head, Buff kerchief on her neck, With spectacles upon her nose, And apron of blue check. 

Ah, then were no inspection days, No standards then were known, Children could freely make dirt pies, And learning let alone!

Those Sundays I remember too, When Service there was one;For living in the parish then Of clergy there were none. 

And oh, I can recall to mind, The Church and every pew;William and Mary's royal arms Hung up in fullest view. 

The lion smiling, with his tongue Like a pug dog's hung out;The unicorn with twisted horn Brooding upon his rout. 

Exalted in the gallery high The tuneful village choir, With flute, bassoon, and clarionet, Their notes rose high and higher. 

They shewed the number of the Psalm In white upon a slate, And many a time the last lines sung Of Brady and of Tate. 

While far below upon the floor Along the narrow aisle, The children on then benches sat Arranged in single file

And there the clerk would stump along And strike with echoing blowEach idle guilty little head That chattered loud or low. 

Ah! I remember many things, Old middle-aged, and new;Is the new better than the old, More bright, more wise, more true?

The old must ever pass away, The new must still come in;When these new things are old to you Be they unstained by sin. 

So will their memory be sweet, A treasury of blissTo be borne with us in the days When we their presence miss. 

Trifles connected with the love Of many a vanished friendWill thrill the heart and wake the sense, For memory has no end!

{Flowers: p46. Jpg}