Two gravestones in the
churchyard of St John the Baptist at BROMSGROVE in Worcestershire tell their
own story :
‘ Sacred to
the memory of Thomas Scaife, late engineer on the Birmingham and Gloucester
Railway, who lost his life at Bromsgrove Station by explosion of an engine
boiler on Tuesday the 10th of Nov. 1840. He was 28 yrs of age, highly esteemed by his
fellow workmen for his many amiable qualities, and his Death will be long
lamented by all those who had the pleasure of his acquaintance. The following lines were composed by an
unknown friend as a memento of the worthiness of the deceased'.
‘My engine
now is cold and still, No water does my boiler fill.
My coke
affords its flames no more, My days of usefulness are o’er.
My wheels
deny their noted speed, No more my guiding hands they need.
My whistle
too has lost its tone, Its shrill and thrilling sound has gone.
My valves are
now thrown open wide, My flanges all refuse to guide.
My clacks,
although once so strong, Refuse to aid the busy throng.
No more I
feel each urging breath, My steam is now condens’d in death.
Life’s
railway’s o’er each station’s pass, In death I’m stopp’d & rest at last.
Farewell dear
friends and cease to weep, In Christ I’m safe in him I sleep.’
This stone
was erected at the joint expense of his fellow workmen 1842.
O’h! Reader
stay, and cast an eye, Upon the grave where I lie.
For cruel
Death has challenged me, And soon alas! Will call on thee.
Repeat in
time, make no delay, For Christ will call you all away.
My time was
spent like Dew in Sun, Beyond my cure my glass is run.
This stone
was erected by his affectionate relict 1841'.
The Holy Trinity church of St Mary at DODFORD near
Bromsgrove
is a fine Gothic Arts and Crafts building. Designed by Arthur Bartlett, who was a member of the guild of local craftsmen who contributed furnishings to the church, it was built in 1907. The unusual side tower is linked to the main church by a covered walkway in such a way as to create a small courtyard. An unusual outdoor pulpit, with its entrance from the tower, overlooks this courtyard.
EVESHAM is a lovely old town on the River Avon
By legal power commanded down,
The joy and terror of the town,
If jarring females kindle strife,
Give language foul, or lug the coif;
If noisy dames should once begin
To drive the house with horrid din;
Away, you cry, you’ll grace the Stool;
We’ll teach you how to hold your tongue to rule.
Down in the deep the Stool descends,
But here, at first, we miss our ends;
She mounts again, and rages more
Than ever vixen did before.
If so, my friend, pray let her take
A second turn into the lake;
And, rather than your patient lose,
Thrice and again repeat the dose,
No brawling wives, no furious wenches,
No fire so hot, but water quenches.’
is a fine Gothic Arts and Crafts building. Designed by Arthur Bartlett, who was a member of the guild of local craftsmen who contributed furnishings to the church, it was built in 1907. The unusual side tower is linked to the main church by a covered walkway in such a way as to create a small courtyard. An unusual outdoor pulpit, with its entrance from the tower, overlooks this courtyard.
The only known pub to stand in a
churchyard is The Mug House which stands on consecrated ground alongside the
churchyard of CLAINES parish church near Worcester. This timber framed pub is 600 years old and
was used as a coaching inn to cater for the aristocracy who had a distance to
travel to the church. The name ‘mug’
may be connected with old time communion plate or perhaps it simply related to
the clinching of a deal over a ‘mug’ of ale.
Although much altered over the years it still retains the air of an
ancient inn.
In the tiny village of ABBOTS MORTON
near Evesham there is a letter box with a thatched roof. It stands alongside and in keeping with a
fine black and white thatched cottage near to the church.
St Andrew’s Church at CLEEVE
PRIORY, near Evesham, dates back to at least the 9th century and
the village was mentioned in the Doomsday Book in 1086. The burial ground was consecrated on 18th October 1315
– just before Sara Charlett was born, if details on her gravestone are to be
believed. It states that she died in
1693 at the age of 309 years! Almost certainly a mistake but nevertheless a
curiosity.
EVESHAM is a lovely old town on the River Avon
A disused toilet has also been put to good use at
MALVERN. A former
Victorian gents toilet now houses the world’s smallest commercial theatre. It covers and area of just 109 square feet
and seats just 112 people.
A large piece of
limestone stands forlornly in the middle of
a road junction in the village of COLWALL on the western slopes of the
Malvern Hills.
One legend about this huge stone is that a giant threw the stone at his
wife, whilst another has it that it was
put there by the devil and that he turns the stone over each midnight .
It doesn’t actually look as if it has been moved for many a year.
It is not unusual for a pub to be
called The Slip
Inn, a place to slip in for a quick
drink! However, The Slip
Tavern at MUCH MARCLE in
Herefordshire is a bit different and recalls an unusual event which occurred
nearby in the year 1575 - ‘ the wonder
land slip’, as depicted on the inn sign.
Apparently Marcle Hill started moving at 6.0pm on 7th
February of that year and was still moving three days later, during which time
some 26 acres of the hill moved a distance of 400 yards, leaving a trail of
destruction in its wake. It crossed two
roads, demolishing a chapel, trees were uprooted and livestock was killed. No logical explanation has ever been found
for this landslip.
Originally called the ‘cucking-stole’, the ducking stool is one of the
most ancient modes of punishment in England . From Saxon times it was nothing more than a
‘stool of use’ upon which the offender sat and thus being exposed to public
derision, but in time the idea was extended to include immersion in water and
the various boroughs and manors were required by law to maintain their own
ducking stool. Normally associated with
female ‘common scolds’, it was also used for Butchers, Bakers, Brewers,
Apothecaries and the like who gave short measure or vended adulterated articles
of food. A fine example can be seen in
the Priory Church at LEOMINSTER in Herefordshire and was the last to be used in
England when, in 1809, a woman called Jenny Pipes alias Jane Corran, was
paraded through the town on the stool and then ducked in the river.
Poet Benjamin West
described the process in 1780 as follows:
‘ There stands, my friend, in yonder pool,
An engine called a Ducking Stool;By legal power commanded down,
The joy and terror of the town,
If jarring females kindle strife,
Give language foul, or lug the coif;
If noisy dames should once begin
To drive the house with horrid din;
Away, you cry, you’ll grace the Stool;
We’ll teach you how to hold your tongue to rule.
Down in the deep the Stool descends,
But here, at first, we miss our ends;
She mounts again, and rages more
Than ever vixen did before.
If so, my friend, pray let her take
A second turn into the lake;
And, rather than your patient lose,
Thrice and again repeat the dose,
No brawling wives, no furious wenches,
No fire so hot, but water quenches.’
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