CROSSES.
These emblematic relics stand in two of the villages in the Peak district: viz. Eyam and Wheston. They are places of little importance; though a touching interest is attached to Eyam, from it having been visited by the Great Plague of the year 1666; its population, at this time, was about 330; of whom 259 fell by the plague.[2] The history of this calamitous visitation forms the subject of a meritorious poem by W. and M. Howitt, entitled the Desolation of Eyam, in which the piety of Mr. Mompesson, (who then held the living of Eyam,) his pastoral consolations to his mourning people, and the amiable character of his beautiful wife, who fell a victim to the plague,—are narrated with true pathos. Yet, this afflicting episode in village history—
So sad, so tender and so true.
having been but recently related by our ingenious contemporary, Mr. Hone,[3] we quote but two of the opening stanzas by the Messrs. Howitt:
Among the verdant mountains of the Peak
There lies a quiet hamlet, where the slope
Of pleasant uplands wards the north-wind's bleak;
Below wild dells romantic pathways ope;
Around, above it, spreads a shadowy cope
Of forest trees: flower, foliage, and clear rill
Wave from the cliffs, or down ravines elope;
It seems a place charmed from the power of ill
By sainted words of old: so lovely, lone, and still.
And many are the pilgrim's feet which tread
Its rocky steps, which thither yearly go;
Yet, less by love of Nature's wonders led,
Than by the memory of a mighty woe,
Which smote, like blasting thunder, long ago,
The peopled hills. There stands a sacred tomb,
Where tears have rained, nor yet shall cease to flow;
Recording days of death's sublimest gloom;
Mompesson's power and pain,—his beauteous Catherine's doom.
The cross at Eyam stands near the entrance into the chancel of the church. According to village tradition, this rare relic was found on some of the neighbouring hills. It is curiously ornamented with symbolic devices in bold relief. "It has suffered dilapidation from the culpable neglect of those who should have felt an interest in its preservation. About two feet of the top of the shaft is wanting, as may be seen by reference to the engraved sketch, (See the Cut,) which was taken in the year 1815." The sexton of the church, who was then an old man, told Mr. Rhodes in 1818, that he well recollected the missing part being thrown carelessly about the churchyard, as if of no value, until it was broken up by some of the inhabitants, and knocked to pieces for domestic purposes. The preservation of the Cross, to the extent we have shown, is referable to the philanthropic Howard, who, in a visit to Eyam, about the year 1788, or 44 years since, particularly noticed the finest part of the relic lying in a corner of the churchyard, and nearly overgrown with docks and thistles. "The value this hitherto unregarded relic had in the estimation of Howard," says Mr. Rhodes, "made it dearer to the people of Eyam: they brought the top part of the cross from its hiding-place, and set it on the still dilapidated shaft, where it has ever since remained." Other crosses, similar in appearance and workmanship, have been found on the hills of Derbyshire, particularly one in the village of Bakewell, which we have already figured in The Mirror.[4] It evidently originated with the same people as that at Eyam, though it is much more mutilated. These crosses have been generally regarded as Saxon or Danish, though the probability is in favour of the Saxon origin, from the high veneration of the Saxons for the sacred symbol of the cross. Thus, stone crosses were not only parts of the decorations of every church and altar, but set up as land-marks on the high roads as aids to devotion, and in market-places as incentives to integrity and fair-dealing.
Near the cross at Eyam, and in the distance of the Cut, is the tomb of Mrs. Mompesson, on one end of which is an hour-glass with two expanded wings; and underneath on an oblong tablet is inscribed CAVETE; (beware,) and nearer the base, the words Nescitis Horam (ye know not the hour). On the other end of the tomb is a death's head resting on a plain, projecting tablet; and below the words Mihi lucrum (mine is the gain).
The second hallowed relic is at Wheston a small and pleasant village, which is situated on an eminence that forms one side of Monksdale, and which at this place is known by the name of Peter-dale. A short distance from hence is Tideswell, about four miles from Eyam.[5] "Wheston," observes Mr. Rhodes, "though consisting of a few houses only, is a picturesque little place: the trees which are mingled with the cottages, are so abundant, and everywhere so finely foliaged, that the place altogether, particularly when seen at a short distance, appears more like a copse or wood than a village." The position of the Wheston cross favours the conclusion already made as to the purposes for which this kind of emblem was originally set up in England. It stands in the village, near the road-side. The upper part of the cross resembles in some of its ornaments the mullion-work of a Gothic window: the shaft is unadorned, and more modern. One side represents the infant Saviour in the arms of his mother: over their heads is a faint indication of a star, emblematic of the ray that directed the wise men of the East to the birthplace of Jesus. The reverse of the cross exhibits the crucifixion of Christ, whose birth and death it has apparently been the design of the sculptor to commemorate in the erection of this symbol of his faith. Similar structures are by no means uncommon by the road-sides throughout France, and to this day the peasantry may be seen bending before them; while the drivers of carriages on the most frequented roads are not unmindful of an act of passing homage to the time-worn emblem.
Several crosses have been found in this part of Derbyshire, but only a few have escaped the dilapidations of age; the others have been, we had almost said sacrilegiously, destroyed as objects of no value. Mr. Rhodes tells us that "in one place the shaft of a cross, originally of no mean workmanship, has been converted into a gate-post; at another, one has been scooped and hollowed out, and made into a blacksmith's trough. I have seen one, which is richly sculptured on the three remaining sides, with figures and a variety of ornaments, all well executed, that was long applied to this humble purpose." The Cut shows that a portion of the cross at Wheston has been broken off; Mr. Rhodes saw the fragment as a common piece of stone, built and cemented into an adjoining wall; and he judiciously adds, "where so little interest has been felt in the preservation of these relics, it is only surprising that so many of them yet remain in different parts of the kingdom." Among all acts of wanton license, the destruction of a cross is to us the most unaccountable. We can readily refer the defacement of imperial insignia and the spoliation of royal houses to political turbulence engendered by acts of tyrannical misrule; but the mutilation of the cross—the universal Christian emblem—remains to be explained, unless we attribute it to the brutal ignorance of the spoilers. Its religious universality ought consistently to protect it from intolerance.
We must not bring this paper to a close without explaining that the preceding Engravings have been copied from the first of Mr. Rhodes's excursions of seventeen miles, viz. from Sheffield to Tideswell. The Abbey and the two Crosses therefore occur in that district. The original plates are effectively engraved by W. and W.B. Cook, from drawings by Mr. Chantrey, R.A., who presented to Mr. Rhodes a series of drawings for his work, "as a token of his friendship, and a mark of his attachment to his native country."