Winceby.
Winceby is situated about five miles south-east of Horncastle, on the way to Old Bolingbroke. It is approached by a good road, but leading up and down hills so steep as to render travelling slow, either for man or beast. The village itself stands on high ground commanding very extensive views; the church of West Keal being a conspicuous object to the east; the lofty tower of Boston looming in the distance, southward, many miles away; Tattershall Castle and Church, the churches of Coningsby, Heckington, and others in the Sleaford direction being also visible, beyond the extensive tracts of fen barred by woods, which intervene; while, on a clear day, the prospect extends across the Wash to the low-lying coast of Norfolk. Northward stretches a tract, less extensive, of varied, undulating ground, with the wooded heights of Warden Hill, Brinkhill, &c., forming the distant elevated horizon. In early spring, or on a bright autumnal day, it would be difficult to find a wider range of view, or more varied colouring, to please the eye. The parish is small, being but little more than 800 acres in extent, comprised in one large farm, the homestead of which, a large, lofty, and somewhat bleak-looking house, occupied by Mr. Edwd. Patchett, forms, with its surrounding buildings and well-filled stackyard, a prominent feature. Yet this humble village has had its associations in the past of more than ordinary interest.
There are few parishes which have not some tradition connected with the supernatural; and here, on the left of the road to Winceby, in a hollow in Slash Lane, about half-a-mile before reaching the village, there stood until recent years a large boulder in the field close by. It was supposed to cover hidden treasure, and various attempts were made at different times to remove it, sometimes with six, or even eight horses. At one of these attempts, his Satanic Majesty, having been invoked by the local title of “Old Lad,” appeared, it is said, in person, whereupon the stone fell back, upsetting the horses. On another occasion a black mouse, probably the same Being incarnate, in another form (compare assistance rendered by a black mouse to the devil, in Goethe’s Faust), ran over the gearing of the horses, with a similar result. Eventually, as a last resort, to break the spell, the boulder was buried, and now no trace of boulder, black mouse, or Satan’s (Linc. “Samuel’s”) foot-print remains.
Domesday Book records that the Saxon Agemund held lands here, and in the adjoining Claxby Pluckacre; and that Walter, a vassal of the wealthy Norman Gozelin, also held land and a mill of the yearly value of 4s., while the still more powerful Norman, Hugh de Abrincis (Avranches, in France), Earl of Chester, also received a grant of land in this parish from his uncle, William the Conqueror. Of this “Baron bold,” we may observe, in passing, that he acquired the surname of Lupus, or “the wolf,” from his many daring deeds. In addition to almost the whole of the county of Chester, which gave him his title, he held about 20 manors in Lincolnshire, 22 in Leicestershire, 12 in Norfolk, 32 in Suffolk, besides several more in other counties. Indeed, so large were his possessions, and so great his power, that the terms of the royal grant to him stated that he held his properties, not “de capite,” or “in chief,” of the Sovereign, as was almost universally the case, but “tam libere ad gladium, sicut Rex ipse tenebat Angliam ad coronam,” i.e., as freely by his sword, as the King did by his crown. It is recorded of him, that he founded and endowed several monasteries, in England, and elsewhere, “for the good and salvation of his soul”; and it is näively added, that “if a tithe of that be true which is related of him by the Chronicler, Ordericus Vitalis (p. 787), he had needs enough to make some such amends for his doings.” He, however, seems, in his latter days, to have attained to a proper sense of his actions, since he closed his career, after a long illness, by adopting the tonsure, as a monk of the Abbey of St. Werberg, of Chester, in his own Barony. Few of these baronial possessions, however, remained long in the families of those favourites to whom they were granted by the Conqueror, solely by the right of conquest. It had been asked long before, even by a Jezebel, “Had Zimri peace, who slew his master?” And there were Norman Omris and Zimris. It was a matter of natural, as well as of retributive justice, that, when the grip, by which the strong held his own, lost its vigour, even the strongest should make way for “a stronger than he.” And although the proud Lupus lorded it over demesnes in Hag, Salmonby, Tetford, Brinkhill, Langton, Greetham, and in many another parish, beside Winceby, yet at a later period we find another powerful family, the Gaunts, in the ascendant, and the Duke of Lancaster, John de Gandivo, was “Dominus Manerii de Winceby” (Harl. MS., Brit. Mus., vol. iii., p. 770); and Walter de Gaunt granted to the Abbey of Bardney, which had been re-founded by his father, Gilbert de Gaunt, after being in ruins some 200 years, the tithes of his Fee in Winceby. (Dugdale’s “Monasticon” ed. 1682, p. 143). But not yet even was “fixity of tenure” a feature of the times. Every dog has (only) his day; other owners followed not now known, and Winceby is now also owned by a name unknown to fame in the representative of the Hill family, who purchased the estate from C. Manwaring, Esq. But the Domus Dei should be a spot undesecrated by earthly broils, a fold unviolated by “the wolf,” and although the Church, erected at Winceby, possibly by the proud Lupus himself, “for the good of his soul,” has, in its original fabric, passed away, yet there still stands on the same site, a place of worship, small indeed, but not unworthy of its holy purpose. Dedicated to St. Margaret, the special Saint of purity undefiled, [227] it fitly stands on an isolated knoll, which on one side looks down on a deep gorge; with the few cottages of the, some 60, inhabitants clustering near at hand; with the great farm house, Winceby hall, standing out eastward, and the picturesque modern Rectory, peacefully embowered in trees and shrubbery, one field away to the west, the calm and comfortable retreat of the Rev. C. E. Bolam, Rector of Lusby, the Rector of Winceby being the Rev. Brice-Smith, resident at Hameringham.
Until recent years, the church had, in the course of time, degenerated into a small, mean thatched edifice; but, during the late incumbency of the Rev. William Wordsworth Talfourd, acting in the spirit of that “high priest of nature,” whose name he bore, the fabric was reconstructed in early English style; the nave being built at the expense of the late Mr. Charles Hill, of Winceby House, and the chancel by the rector. It consists of nave, chancel, porch, and bell turret. Its chief features are as follows:—In the north wall of the nave are two pairs of narrow pointed windows, within debased arches; the south wall has the same, with a porch, having narrow pointed arch. The font, of stone, has a circular bowl, relieved by four small quatrefoils, at the four quarters, a circular shaft, and square pediment. The west window is a cinquefoil, surrounded by eight small quatrefoils. The pulpit and seats are of light deal. The east window of the chancel, the gift of Miss Talfourd, is of three distinct trefoiled compartments, of coloured glass, the central one rather larger than the other two, and surmounted by a quatrefoil. The subjects are, in the centre, the Crucifixion; in the northern one, Christ blessing little children; in the southern, the Last Supper. In the south wall of the chancel is a single-light trefoil, window, with three small quatrefoils above; its subject being, Christ and the Magdalen, or “Noli me tangere”; a brass tablet states that this is “in memory of Frances Talfourd, March 9, 1862.” The sedilia in the chancel are of handsome, modern, substantial oak. The roof throughout is of pitch pine. The one bell hangs in a turret supported by eight pilasters. The living is in the gift of the Lord Chancellor. The register dates from 1579. Among the entries are the following:—“1773, Thursday, June 28th, — Spenly buried. He was servant to Thomas English, and instantly killed with thunder and lightening in the house of his master, about 5 o’clock the evening before.” In the two following, we do not see the object of the financial computation, unless the party making the entry was hypochondriac on the subject of £ s. d. “1698 Mary daughter of Tho. Jeffery, ffarmer (not worth six hundred pounds) and Anne, his wife, baptised, October 23rd.” “1699. A similiar entry of John Bowsley, ffarmer, being not worth £600.”
The main interest of Winceby is as being the scene of the decisive battle, commonly called “Winceby fight,” between the forces of the Royalists and the Parliamentarians which took place on Wednesday, Oct. 11, 1643.
We have only space here for a brief account of that engagement, which was important in its effect. We quote from a curious contemporary record, written by a Parliamentarian, and who apparently took part in the events described. [228] The Parliamentary army, then in the neighbourhood of Boston, after suffering a reverse near Grantham, and gaining a doubtful victory at Gainsborough, had been reinforced by Sir Thomas Fairfax; and Cromwell was also on his way to join it, with a valuable body of horse. To prevent this formidable combination, the Marquis of Newcastle from the north, hurried towards Boston, and despatched Sir John Henderson, to intercept Cromwell. Forces belonging to both sides had been encamped, on the previous night, in Horncastle, Thimbleby, Edlington, and neighbouring villages, where skirmishes had occurred. The main body under Manchester, had moved from near Boston to Bolingbroke, which was held by Royalists. On the Monday night, Major Knight, in the name of Manchester, had summoned the Castle of Bolingbroke (to surrender); but was answered that “his bug-bear words must not winne castles.” Whereupon Knight resolved the next evening, to break open the Church doors, “and there to mount a morter-piece, and fire the Castle.” But the events of the next day prevented this. “Those of the Castle (the Royalists), killed one or two of our men; and, as Major Knight, and the Quarter-master Generall Vermeyden were viewing of it, made some shots at them, and one of them hit the said Quarter-master Generall a little below the ancle, but pierced not the skin, only bruised his leg.” Seeing that they were determined to resist, Manchester then moved to East Kirkby; and his forces were encamped there, at Stickney, and at different points around. Cromwell was encamped at Winceby, in advance, with his “light horse and dragooners,” where he passed the night. The Royalists, under Sir John Henderson, pressed forward from Horncastle, in order, if possible, to attack Cromwell, before the main body had come up. But Cromwell did not object to hard blows, and though his “horse were extremly wearied with hard duty,” he calmly and sternly awaited the event. “About twelve of the clock . . . we began to descry the enemy coming toward us. So soon as our men had knowledge of (this), they were very full of joy and resolution, thinking it a great mercie that they should now fight. Cromwell led the van.” He gave the watchword “Truth and Peace,” and then gave out a Psalm; and his troops moved on, singing it, to charge the foe. They sustained a hostile fire along the whole of their line, but they rode on unshaken, at full speed. A second volley, at close quarters, killed Cromwell’s charger; and as he rose to his feet, “he was knockit down again by the gentleman who had charged him, who ’twas conceived, was Sir Ingram Hopton;” and for a moment he lay as slain. But he who, as a child, had escaped death in the arms of a monkey, was not to be so easily extinguished; he recovered consciousness, and mounted a trooper’s horse; his opponent, Sir Ingram Hopton, was slain in his turn; and “this first charge was so home-given (says the Chronicler), and with so much admirable courage and resolution by our troops, that the enemy stood not another, but were driven back upon their own body, which was to have seconded them, and at last put them into a plain disorder; and thus, in less than half an hour’s fight, they were all quite routed. Our men pursued, and did execution upon them about five or six miles; all the way being strewed with broken arms, dead men and horses.” Two hundred horses were afterwards found left in Bolingbroke Castle, which had been abandoned by the Royalists in a panic. Many hundreds of the defeated fugitives rushed frantically into “waters up to their arm-holes [230a]; they that lay slain in the highways were very many; and divers of qualitie, for there were brave bodies stript naked. The number of horses taken were about 2000, of prisoners about 1000, . . . of arms 1500, and not 100 of the enemie (’twas verily believed), to be found in a body; of 94 standards 35 were taken, whereas (he adds), wee but lost very few of our men, none of note, (and), wee hardly found above one of our officers hurt.” With the Puritan’s faith he exclaims, “God himself did it all, taking away the enemie’s hearts, and giving resolution and courage to our men; to him therefor be all the honour and glory of this famous victory.” [230b] This was a greater blow to the Royalist cause than has commonly been estimated. Hitherto the struggle had been carried on with varied fortune, but as yet the Royalists had had no reason to despair, and had even achieved considerable successes. At Winceby it may be said, the tide decidedly set in against them. The struggle was prolonged; but Lincoln was taken by Manchester’s forces in the following May (1644). In the same year was fought the disastrous battle of Marston Moor; and the even more fatal fight of Naseby in 1645. After that the issue was almost a foregone conclusion. As to the actual scene of the fight, the Royalists, from Horncastle, would seem to have advanced slightly beyond the village, before they encountered the enemy. The name of “Slash Lane,” westward, still surviving, tells its own tale of their wild flight towards the town, which they had so lately left full of high hope. The “clap-gate” farm at Holbeck, tells of hurried movements in the dark hours of the night. The Winceby registers record no increase of burials at the time. But tradition avers that many were interred by the peasantry on Scrafield hill-top. The one known burial is that of Sir Ingram Hopton, whose body, by order of Cromwell himself, was conveyed to Horncastle, that it might be interred in a manner worthy of one, in whom he recognised “a brave gentleman.”