PILGRIMAGES TO ENGLISH SHRINES.

BY MRS. S. C. HALL.

WITH NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS BY F. W. FAIRHOLT, F.S.A.

THE BURIAL PLACE OF JOHN HAMPDEN.

from the common, attracted our attention; and a peasant, whose appearance bespoke little of what we term "comfort," seemed much astonished at our visit to "so poor a place." He shook his head gravely, and told us-" The people dead and gone said that tree stood there in the Patriot's' time, but the clerk of the church knew it all; he could tell all about the Patriot,' and everything: he would call him in a minute; when gentry did come to see so poor a place, they ought to know everything." The clerk soon came-a tall thin man who stooped rather, and looked perhaps older than his years. His calm intelligent face lit up, when Hampden's name was mentioned, and he knew the nature of our errand. "Ay," he said,

EARLY on the following morning we left the pretty village of Aldbury far behind, passed the town of Tring, and drove through those actual hamlets of old times,-unchanged as their quaint names "Aston-Clinton," and " Weston-Turville," -where the cottages are shaded by noble trees, or peep, like toy-houses, out of bouquets of monthly roses and holyoaks, and wilderness of clematis. We strongly desired to spend an hour in the beautiful church of Kimble, which formerly belonged to the Hampdens; for those village churches are full of interest; brasses and time-worn tombs are to be met with in their sanctuaries; an old morion above a tattered flag, or some hallowed name stamping a blue slate with immortality; and Kim-" that tree had heard the blast of Hampden's trumble tempted us, looking so full of conscious glory, upon its steep, above the tree-tops; but we had a long day's work before us at Great Hampden. We passed "The Chequers," in heroic self-denial-for the present; and while we admired the tinted woods and uprisings of the Chiltern Hills, we became grievously perplexed by the net-work of lai.es and drives that, as we got deeper into the country, cross and recross, and seem to diverge everywhere, and in all directions; the crows evidently considering their right to the shorn harvest field indisputable. Our driver was in happy ignorance of Hampden, either the patriot or the house, yet affirmed it was "somewhere hereabout;" and but for a pretty cheerful girl, a miracle of intelligence, at a place we believe called "Brockwell Farm," we might have wandered vainly among the hills, and valleys, and paths, until the day was done.We had not heard that the fine red brick Elizabethan house of the Hampdens had been stuccoed into whiteness, and we passed it without recognition; for the church, which we knew almost joined the dwelling, is concealed by trees. We drove on, however, to what an honest-looking smith, who wielded his iron as lightly as if it were a quarter-staff, told us was the "Patriot's" village, and that the clerk of the church resided there.Hampden village consists of an irregular line of very primitive cottages, straggling along one side of a small common, from which their gardens have been taken, bit by bit; it is backed by rising and well-wooded ground. An old and ragged tree, nearly opposite the gate that separates the road

* Much that is curious is connected with the names both

of places and persons in many of our English counties, and striking peculiarities, indicative of remote antiquity, fre quently arrest attention. While Cornwall tells of early British location, Kent speaks of Saxon rule in such names of persons as Fordred, which appears on the coinage of that people; or of places, as Offham (the house of Offa,) Wodensborough (the hill of Oden,) &c. The names above quoted are equally indicative of Norman rule, and the settlements awarded to the followers of William the Con

queror.

44

pet, sure enough!" No doubt it was there, under the woody brows of his own Chilterns, he first issued the command to gather the militia of his own county, which had, long before, caught the spirit of its great leader. We imagined the parishes and hundreds with their preachers at their heads, marshaling up a defile to the right, to meet him who had so bravely struggled for their liberty! "Not only the tree," resumed the worthy clerk, "but the cottage in which I live, was standing then," and he invited us to look at the beams, they were so thick." When we entered to do so, he pressed upon us pears and plums, the fruit of his garden; and his wife selected the largest from her store, and took no little pride in the thickness of the low oak beams. She regarded us with respect when she found we had come from London to see and hear all about "The Patriot," which no one, she assured us, could tell better than her husband. We must have great curiosity! She had heard that Tring was twelve miles off; she had lived in this cottage forty years, but had never been so far. She confessed, with a quiet smile, "she was no great traveller." This Dorcas had bright eyes beneath her white hair, and was withal kindly, courteous, and intelligent, with abundant health, and well learned in simple garden and house craft, and better still, in that which renders wise unto Salvation; yet, from the time of her youth, she had never been twelve miles from that most lonely and primitive village in which she was born!

Yes; nothing is more likely than that Hampden mustered his men upon that common; for the broad and beautiful table-land, spread in front of the house, which now commands so glorious a view of the surrounding country, was then intersected by quaint hedges and garden fantasies, suited to the taste of the period; no place, therefore, could have been more fitted or appropriate, as a musterground for the Hampden men, than Hampden Common, which almost adjoins the house. .We

turned back; leaving the common, and passing | we came to the gate opening to a winding drive again through the green lanes, and by the forge, that leads through the park to the entrance of both

this favored spot; the gallant high sheriff paid his Queen right loyal homage, cutting a passage through the woods, which is still called "the Queen's gap." The furniture, however, of her Majesty's bed-room, has nothing about it of the Elizabethan era; it is no older than the time of the second Charles. In the library is a curious bible, once the property of Philip, uncle of Oliver Cromwell; it contains detailed entries of the births of many of the Cromwell family.

church and dwelling-separated only by a narrow | fith Hampden, when her gracious Majesty visited road, over-arched by stately trees and almost as stately evergreens: on the right, a small garden gate admits, by a back path, to the house, flowergarden, and lawn, where the Patriot spent his happiest days: on the left, is the entrance to the sacred church, where his remains repose. It is very rarely that thus, within, as it were, the compass of a ring, a great man's FIRST and LAST are gathered together. It is impossible to imagine anything more still than this hallowed spot, hid away at the back of that chalky range, the Chilterns, which bound on one side the rich vale of Aylesbury. The flower-garden, through which we passed, seemed as if called into existence by the wand of an enchanter; the lingering roses, the heavy-headed dahlias, the bright-toned autumn flowers, looked so lonely in their beauty. We almost feared to speak in such deep solitude. A human footstep, the bark of a dog, the song of a bird, the tinkle of a sheep-bell, would have been a relief-until we had drank deeply of the spirit of the place, and then, as thoughts and memories crowded around us, we felt the luxury of its solemn quiet, and that sound here would be as sacrilége. Passing a low sort of postern entrance, we walked beneath an arch, starred over by jessamine, and stood in front of the extensive mansion, added to and enlarged by various proprietors, and at one time displaying some goodly architecture of the age of Elizabeth; the stucco, as if ashamed of its usurpation, beginning to drop away from the red brick, of which the house is built. Save the "natural decay" which must progress in all uninhabited dwellings, we saw nothing that told of the "ruin" which comes of carelessness or neglect.

There is a very celebrated portrait of the Protector on the stair-case, and another of one of the family of Hampden,-we believe the "Patriot's" son,-who, wearied of the world he knew, rushed unbidden to that which he knew not. All memory of the sleeping-chamber of John Hampden is lost, but that of the tragedy is well-known; what house is there without its skeleton!-yet what dwelling in all England more sacred than this lonely one, to the hearts of Englishmen? In one of the reception-rooms is an interesting portrait, believed to be of the Patriot; it hung unnoticed on the stairs, until Lord Nugent undertook to exhume the remains of Hampden, with a view to ascertain whether he had died by the effect of the bursting of his own pistol, or from the shot of the carabine, which, according to other historians, shattered the shoulder of the hero on Chalgrove field. The body, of which the grave was despoiled in a ruder manner and for a longer period than appears to have been at all necessary, was found perfect, except that a shattered hand was rolled in a separate cerement beside it; the features, when discovered, "bore so strong a resemblance to this hitherto neglected portrait, that it was taken down and cleaned, and in a corner, the name was discovered;"*-it has since been placed in a worthier

The Hall is of that gloomy character, once considered necessary for grandeur of effect; the suite of rooms consists of a library, two dining-rooms, a drawing-room, a sort of small presence-chamber, * Such, at least, is the motive assigned for its removal, by and a bed-room, that enjoys the reputation of hav-much to be lamented, and certainly not to be accounted for, the household but upon very unsatisfactory grounds. It is ing been especially furnished for Elizabeth by Grif-1 that Lord Nugent in his "Life of Hampden," published

position. It is deplorable that this noble mansion, other record of the one who has given it immorhonored by time and circumstance, contains no tality; no papers, no documents, no scrap of his

hand-writing, no table upon which his hand rest- | midland counties of England; the atmosphere was ed, no chair, as the master of a household often has, appropriately called "his own;" no roomnothing except a doubtful portrait; the very character of that dwelling changed, rendering it a whited sepulchre rather than a glorious Mausoleum where everything connected with him should be found; and where the youth of England might learn how to live and how to die for their country. And yet his presence was with us wherever we turned; the scene was so entirely his own, that he moved with us, among the old places, in the sunshine and the shade.

The view of the house opens through a long vista; a lawn of noble width, and carpeted with the richest verdure, slopes on, until lost beneath the shadows of magnificent trees, judiciously cleared so as to afford one of the richest views in the

some time after the exhumation, takes no notice whatever of the circumstance; not attempting to account for the fact

so transparent that the prospect over hills and into deep valleys and dark woods, and down dells, clothed in juniper, and beech, and chestnut, seemed interminable; a very empire of beauty-and of silence! It was better to picture Hampden there than within the precints of that whited house. What a region for thoughts and works! Woe to those poor spirits who have no ideas, but those they can vent in sound! Truly the scene before us was worthy of its name; worthy to be noted from the old times to the present; worthy of its Patriot-Master; worthy to own no other lord than him whose name is as a beacon of Liberty-a sacred unquenchable fire. Here were his great thoughts conceived; here nourished; not developed rashly or flung unadvisedly to the world, but nurtured by observation and in quiet. It is only in the magnificence of silence that the soul can commune with its God! The babbler knows no

that in the "rummage" to which the grave was subjected thing of the holiness, the uplifting, uplooking nano body was found exhibiting wounds on the shoulder, while ture of this great privilege. We turned our footthat which his lordship and his friends determined to con- steps towards the church; the clerk waited to resider the body of the Patriot was without the hand, which, ceive us; the edifice is well cared for by the prowrapped in a separate cerement, was by its side. Lord Nugent gives the statement, which rests upon doubtful authori-prietor, the rector, and last, not least, the honest ty, that at Chalgrove field his pistol burst and shattered clerk, who looks upon it with the increasing affechis hand in a terrible manner;" a story which his lordship's tion begotten by the serving and tending of forty years. It is a beautiful specimen of an old Eng

search would seem to confirm, but which he quotes and leaves without comment.

fish house of worship, carefully preserved; and thankful to be inquired of concerning what he so the clerk was a filting guide to its solemnities, much loved, but saying no word too many; speak

been peasant-born. On the right hand, close to
the communion-table, is the simple monument*
inscribed with his own words to the memory of
his wife; and within the rails his own remains
were deposited; it was his own hand that traced
the tribute to her virtues-the "truely vertuous
and pious," the "tender mother of nine hopeful
children."

"In her Pilgrimage
The staie and comfort of her neighbors
The love and giory of a well-order'd family
The delight and happiness of tender parents
But a crowne of blessings to a husband
In a wife, to all an eternall paterne of goodnes
And cause of joye whilst shee was in her dissolution."

ing not at all when he saw us full of thought. The | with the truest immortality, had all his progenitors church doors were open, but extra doors of iron net-work prevented the entrance of birds or boys; by this means the fresh breezes of the Chiltern Hills passed through the sanctuary, laden with the perfume of the flower-garden of Hampden's house, so that the porch and aisle were fragrant with the scent of mignonette and clematis. Upon a young tree planted, as the clerk told us, "near eighteen years past, by his own hands, to live when he was gone," a robin was rehearsing its autumn song, at intervals, as if it were too early to begin, and yet time to have it ready. The day was changing; a soft misty rain commenced, and rude gusts of wind swept through the trees, scattering the golden-tinted leaves on the green grass. We were now within the porch that Hampden had so often entered; within the sanctuary in which he communed with his God! The pews of the church are low and open; there is no gallery, and the organ, a gift of the present proprietor, is placed amongst the seats, nearly opposite the communiontable. It was a privilege to stand within the saered temple where Hampden lies, uncenotaphed, but unforgotten; to know that we were sheltered by the same roof that covered the remains of the purest of England's patriots; the offspring of an unbroken descent from the Confessor; of a line famous in chivalry, and often entrusted with state services, yet sufficient of himself to stamp a name

It is a primitive structure, consisting of a nave with side aisles and chancel. The pillars and arches of the nave are early English and of considerable beauty, exhibiting the purest features of the original architecture. The clerestory windows and roof are of the latest perpendicular style, merging into the Tudor.

Opposite to this monument "in perpetuall testimony of conjugal love," is a far more sumptuous tomb to the memory of a lesser John Hampden,t here described as " xviiii. hereditary lord of great Hampden," who, "dying in 1754, bequeathed his estates and name to the Hon. Robert Trevor," his kinsman by descent from Ruth, daughter of the John Hampden. Issue here failing, the heritage passed to the children of another daughter: the Hobarts, Earls of Buckinghamshire, now own the

his wife is a plain black marble tablet in a simple frame of The monument erected by Hampden to the memory of lighter marble, and is placed between the windows on the south wall of the chancel, close to the spot traditionally pointed out as his last resting-place.

†This monument is a characteristic example of the taste which prevailed during the last century in monumental decoration, when weeping children were so unsparingly used.In this instance we have one perched at each angle of the cenotaph. One holds a countryman's hat on a staff, (an adaptation of the classic cap of liberty,) the other, a sealed roll (perhaps intended for Magna Charta.)

house and lands of the Patriot: they own them, morial bearings; and contains in low relief a sculpnothing more! This tomb is gorgeous with ar- tured tablet, which describes the Patriot's fall on

Chalgrove field. A faded morion, with the crest, - surmounts the tomb; and this is all that recalls to us the name of Hampden in the place to which he has given eternal fame.

AVERY.SC.

side this altar, where had been gathered the dust of so many of his progenitors. It had been removed hither from Thame, the village in which he died, on the 24th of June, of the wound reIn memory of John Hampden, there is no monu-ceived at Chalgrove, on the Sabbath morning of ment of any kind in Hampden House, Hampden June 18, 1643.* church, or Hampden village! No single sentence has been written any where to say that here he lived, and here was he laid in death; but for a memorial to the greatest man of a great period of British history, let us borrow an inscription from one of the humblest grave-stones in the churchyard

"Praises on tombs are idly spent,

His good name is his monument!"

Yet what a host of memories were conjured up, as we stood in the chancel of that small village church, beside the vault which holds the ashes of the Patriot.

On the 25th of June, 1643,† the body, without the soul, entered this church, and was interred in

* This portion of the upper part of the tomb is given in our cut; it is well executed in white marble, but exhibits that inattention to costume which was prevalent in the last century. The stem of the genealogical tree, and the principal shield of arms, appear above the falling figure of the Pa triot; this tree, laden with shields properly emblazoned, fills the larger part of the oval tablet, and being cut in white marble, stands in bold relief from the dark-veined marble which forms the substructure.

t The following is extracted from the Register of Burials, Great Hampden, 1643. It was copied for us by the clerk,

Hampden was seen for the first time turning his back upon the battle-field before the fight was done, "a thing," writes Clarendon," he never

William Martin, to whose courtesy we have elsewhere made reference; and who deserves the highest praise for the neatness and order in which he keeps the church:

1643. John Hampden, Esquire, Lord of Hampden, buried June 25. Robert Lenthall, Rector."

It

*Chalgrove field is about twelve miles from Oxford and tersected by four cross roads as seen in the sketch. It was ten from Thame. The field itself is a large open plain, inallotted in different appointments some short time since, and the spot where the monument is erected was appropriated to Dr. Hampden, now Bishop of Hereford, a descendant of the Patriot. The monument is of brick, coated with stone. is in an unfinished condition as far as the original design is concerned, which was, to have ornamented this pedestal with an obelisk seventeen feet high, omitted-for want of funds As the pedestal now stands, it is abont fifteen feet wide on each side. The east side has a sculptured medallion figure of Hampden, with his motto, Vestigia nulla retrorsum; the same motto with his arms on the west side; the south side is devoted to the names of those who subscribed to this memorial, and is dated June 18, 1843." The north side has a long inscription, setting forth that "this stone was raised in reverence to his memory," in the "two hundredth year" from the day on which he received his death-wound. It is a poor and paltry affair; conferring a renown by no means enviable upon the wealthy noblemen and gentlemen whe erected a miserable monument and left it unfinished.