In 1507 the vices attendant on wealth and luxury became so conspicuous as to require rebuke. The good monks were making free use of the taverns, and were bringing into the monastery women who were not of a saintly character. The last abbot of Hyde, John Salcot, was “a great cleark, and singularly learned in divinity.” He became Bishop of Bangor, and then of Salisbury, and his principles were of the willow pattern. At Windsor he tried three reformers, and condemned them to be burnt, and burnt they were; but under Edward VI. he himself became a reformer, and gave the Duke of Somerset several church manors. In Mary’s reign he averred that his compliance with Edward’s wishes had been caused by threats and from fear of his life, and sentenced Hooper and Rogers and three others to the stake, where they were burned.
Spoliation.
Wriothesley writes in 1538, being the chief acting commissioner here: “About three o’clock a.m., we made an end of the shrine of Winchester. We think the silver will amount to near two thousand marks. Going to bedsward we viewed the altar. Such a piece of work it is that we think we shall not rid of it before Monday or Tuesday morning. Which done we intend both at Hyde and St. Mary’s to sweep away all the rotten bones, called relics, which we may not omit lest it should be thought we came more for the treasure than for avoiding the abominations of idolatry.” Wriothesley was granted several of the richest manors of Hyde, and having a lease of the site, pulled down the abbey and sold the materials. He made over the site to the Bethell family. The lands he left to his children, but a failure of male descent, which no doubt the Roman Catholics regarded as a judgment, caused the abbey manors to be distributed to many families. Some of them went to Lady Rachel Russell, a daughter of Thomas, Earl of Southampton. She lived much at Stratton, where her letters were written.
In 1788 the magistrates of Hampshire bought the site of the abbey to erect a bridewell. Dr. Milner writes: “At almost every stroke of the mattock or spade some ancient sepulchre or other was violated, the venerable contents of which were treated with marked indignity.” A crozier, patens, chalices, and rings, and “fantastic capitals” were now found, stone coffins were broken and bones scattered. Three superior coffins were found in front of the altar, and a slab, probably the base of a statue of Alfred, which is now at Corby Castle, in Cumberland. It is impossible to determine what relics were then destroyed.
The bones found in 1867 lie under a stone marked simply with a cross, beneath the east window of St. Bartholomew’s Church. They belonged to five persons, supposed to be Alfred, his queen and two sons, and St. Grimbald. The four first mentioned were found in a chalk vault, at the east end of the church of Hyde Monastery. The bones of St. Grimbald were in another chalk vault, under the chancel, near the north transept, which extended where there is now a timber yard, on the east side of the present church. In Milner’s time, the ruins of the church nearly covered a meadow. St. Bartholomew’s was probably like the church at Battle, built for the tenants and servants of the abbey. The cut stones, with which its walls are studded, give it a chequered or chessboard appearance, and suggest the spoliation of some earlier building. But a portion at least, of the church existed long before the destruction of the abbey. The alternation of squares of stone and flintwork is an example of what was in times past a favourite device, now known by architects as “diaper work.”
Walk to Headbourne.
Returning into Hyde Street, my friends went home; and I, walking on towards the country, came to some pretty outskirts of Winchester. Here are bright villas, covered with flowering rose-trees, and a thatched cottage swathed in ivy. The road gradually becomes overshadowed on both sides by beeches and elms, which soon give place on the left to corn-fields, dotted over with children “gleazing,” while on the right appears the long wall and fine plantations of Abbots Barton—an old monastic farm.
Just before coming to Headbourne Worthy, I passed two semi-detached cottages of red brick, with ornamental windows. These cheerful dwellings stand on a site of dark memory. Two years ago, a hayrick was here, under which a couple of young sailors, tramping along the road, took refuge at night from a storm. Though in this uncomfortable position, they managed to quarrel about money—with which neither was well provided—and at last the discussion grew so hot that the elder—twenty-seven years of age—pursued the younger, a boy of eighteen round the rick, with an open knife in his hand. The latter cried aloud, but the wind and rain prevented his being heard, except by a dog at a neighbouring cottage, who raised his voice in vain. At last the deed was done, and the murderer took three shillings from the body, which he covered up with hay. He then made off, but was captured and executed.
A Winchester Scholar.