Old Times at Otterbourne

by Charlotte M. Yonge

It is amusing to remember the kind of dread that was felt at first of railway travelling. It was thought that the engines would blow up, and, as an old coachman is reported to have said, “When a coach is overturned, there you are; but when an engine blows up, where are you?” He certainly was so far right that a coach accident was fatal to fewer persons than a railway accident generally is.

The railway passed so near the old Church that the noise of the trains would be inconvenient on Sundays. At least, so thought those with inexperienced ears, though many a Church has since been built much nearer to the line. However, this fixed the purpose that had already been forming, of endeavouring to build a new Church. The first idea had been of trying to raise £300 to enlarge the old Church, but the distance from the greater part of the parish was so inconvenient, and the railroad so near, that the building of a new Church was finally decided on. There really was not room for the men and boys at the same time on the backless forms they occupied between the pews in the chancel. Moreover, if a person was found sitting in a place to which another held that he or she had a right, the owner never thought of looking for another place elsewhere, and the one who was turned out went away displeased, and declared that it was impossible to come to church for fear of “being upset.” It is strange and sad that people are so prone to forget what our Master told us about “taking the highest room,” even in His own House.

But besides the want of accommodation, the old Church was at an inconvenient distance from the parish. No doubt there had once been more houses near, but when the cottage inhabited by old Aaron Chalk was pulled down, nothing remained near but Otterbourne Farm and the Moat House. Every one living elsewhere had to walk half a mile, some much more, and though Kiln Lane was then much better shaded with fine trees than it is now, it was hard work on a hot or wet Sunday to go twice. Some of us may recollect one constant churchgoer, John Rogers, who was so lame as to require two sticks to walk with, and had to set out an hour beforehand, yet who seldom missed.

Just at this time the Reverend John Keble became Vicar of Hursley, and Otterbourne, and forwarded the plan of church building with all his might.

Few new churches had been built at that time, so that there was everything to be learnt, while subscriptions were being collected from every quarter. Magdalen College, at Oxford, gave the site as well as a handsome subscription, and every endeavour was made to render the new building truly church like. It was during the building that Dr. Rowth, the President of Magdalen College, coming to hold his court at the Moat House, had the model of the church brought out to him and took great interest in it. He is worth remembering, for he was one of the wisest and most learned men in Oxford, and he lived to be nearly a hundred years old. Church building was a much more difficult thing then than it is now, when there are many architects trained in the principles of church building, and materials of all kinds are readily provided.

The cross form was at once fixed on as most suitable; and the little bell turret was copied from one at a place called Corston. Mr. Owen Carter, an architect at Winchester, drew the plans, with the constant watching and direction of Mr. Yonge, who attended to every detail. The white stone, so fit for carving decorations, which had been used in the Cathedral, is imported from Caen, in Normandy. None had been brought over for many years, till a correspondence was opened with the people at the quarries, and blocks bought for the reredos and font. Now it is constantly used.

The panels of the pulpit, with the carvings of the Blessed Virgin, and the four Latin fathers, SS. Ambrose, Augustine, Jerome, and Gregory the Great, were found in a shop for antiquities in London. The shape was adapted to a sounding board, which had been made for the Cathedral, but was rejected there. The altar-rail also was found in a shop. It must previously have been in a church, as it has the sacramental corn and grapes. It is thought to be old Flemish work, and represents a prince on one side with a crown laid down, as

he kneels in devotion, and some ladies on the opposite side. The crown is an Emperor’s, and there is the collar of the Golden Fleece round his neck, so that it is probably meant for either the Emperor Maximilian or his grandson, Charles V. One of the gentlemen kneeling behind the Emperor has a beautiful face of adoration.

The building of the Church took about two years, the first stone being laid at the north-east corner. It was begun on the 16th of May, 1837, and it was ready for consecration on the 30th of July, 1839. The building had been prosperous, the only accident being the crushing of a thumb when the pulpit was set in its place.

The new boys’ school was built at the same time, the archway of the south door of the old Church being used for the doorway, so as to preserve the beautiful and peculiar decoration, and the roof was lined with the doors and backs of the old oak-pewing. In the flints collected for the building of this and of the wall round the churchyard there was a water wagtail’s nest in which a young cuckoo was reared, having, of course, turned out the rightful nestling. Probably it flew safely, for the last time it was seen its foster parents were luring it out with green caterpillars held a little way from the nest.