Warwickshire: The Land of Shakespeare

by Clive Holland

The only other church of interest in Warwick is that of St. Nicholas, situated almost opposite to the entrance of the castle. The date of its foundation is not known with accuracy, but it would appear to have been prior to the Norman Conquest. The present building, which consists of a tower, spire, nave with aisles, and chancel, was erected in 1780 upon the site of an ancient church. According to one authority the chancel was in ancient times the choir to the House of Nuns, destroyed by Canute the Dane about 1016, but afterwards restored.

Very little can be said for the present erection, which is a very poor specimen of architecture, and is only of interest in that it contains some interesting seventeenth–century monuments of the Stoughton family, and an excellent specimen of a brass with effigy of Robert Willardsey, first vicar, who died in 1424.

Once a walled town of great strength, of these ramparts scarcely any traces now remain with the exception of those immediately adjoining the east and west gateways. Warwick of to–day, with its country town life and its race–course, seems to have little in common, other than the survival of interesting buildings and its magnificent castle, with those ancient times in which the cry of “A Warwick! a Warwick!” often raised in battle and feud, struck terror into the hearts of those who heard it.

A little more than a mile to the north of Warwick, on the Coventry Road, stands the famous Guy’s Cliff, now the seat of the Percy family, beautifully situated amongst a wealth of trees overlooking a fine stretch of the Avon. Anciently, and up to the reign of Henry IV., the place was known as Gibbeclyve, and the name it bears at the present day would appear to have been given it in memory of the redoubtable Guy of Warwick, whose somewhat mythical exploits caused him to take a high place as a popular hero during the Middle Ages.

Unfortunately for those to whom these legendary tales appeal strongly, there are no mention of Guy’s exploits in any authentic Chronicle or records of ancient times.

Tradition, however, states that in the last years of the fifth or the first years of the sixth century St. Dubritius, who subsequently became Bishop of Landaff and afterwards Archbishop of Wales, founded an oratory here, in which long afterwards a devout hermit dwelt. The spot remained thus, only distinguished by a hermit’s dwelling, until the reign of Henry V., who whilst on a visit to Warwick Castle came to see Guy’s Cliff, and decided there to found a chantry for two priests.

An interesting fact in connection with this chantry is that John Rous, the Warwickshire antiquarian and historian, was once a priest here. At the Dissolution of the Monasteries and Religious Orders the property was granted to one Sir Andrew Flammock, knight, whose daughter and heiress married John Colburne in 1579, who obtained a grant of the chapel from Queen Elizabeth. The property has since then passed through many hands, and from a family named Greatheed passed into that of Lord Percy in the spring of 1891, through the marriage of a descendant of the Greatheeds with the honourable Charles Bertie Percy.

The house is one of the most picturesquely situated in Warwickshire, and is built on a sandstone cliff overhanging the river, which widens into a large pool or lake in front. The mansion itself has very ordinary architectural features, but it contains many interesting pictures and curios.

One picture possesses a romantic interest from the fact that it was painted by Mr. Bertie Greatheed, and is of such a horrifying character that it is hidden from ordinary view by doors specially constructed in front of it. This painting, which is known as “The Cave of Despair,” represents the scene described by Spenser in his Færie Qeene, Book I. Canto ix. The weird ghastly figure of Despair nearly nude, with clasped hands, unkempt hair, and deeply sunk eyes, sits in the centre of the cave, staring out abstractedly at the spectator. A stabbed corpse, with up–turned eyes and an agonised expression of face, lies on the left; whilst on the right is a Red Cross knight, typical of resolution under awe–inspiring circumstances. Behind him is the terror–stricken face of another spectator. This picture, apart from its gruesome realism and subject, is of considerable artistic merit, and is certainly one to “haunt” those who have been fortunate or unfortunate enough to see it.