Nicholas de Burnell.
There is much to be seen in the interior. Near the porch we observe an elegant font, with small, well moulded arches supporting it. Overhead is a good oak roof, though not so massive as that of the chancel. A curious feature of the latter is a small square window low down in the north wall, supposed to be a leper's, or anchorite's, window, as it appears probable that an anchorite had his dwelling here in very early times. Or may not this have been what was known as a 'dead-light,' a little window whence a light was shown into the graveyard to scare away the ghosts!
Passing into the north transept, which has ancient tiles upon the floor, we are at once attracted by the very handsome and well preserved marble monument of a knight clad in rich armour, a ruff around his neck, a lion at his feet, and a quaint little figure supporting a helmet above his head. Near the right hand lies a gauntlet, and within it crouches a diminutive dog, the emblem of fidelity. Alongside the knight reposes his lady consort, her costume of ruff and stomacher, girdle and flat head-dress, bespeaking the time of Queen Elizabeth; while in the background appear their nine children, habited in the stiff, formal gear of that period. Beneath the enclosing arch are inscribed the words, 'Hic iacet corpus Richardi Lee armigeri qui obiit 27° die Maii Anno Doni 1591.' This fine monument is carved in alabaster, and is surmounted by a knightly helmet and squirrel crest, and coats of arms with supporters.
In the angle of the adjacent wall is another marble tomb, less elaborate than the last, but considerably older. Its arcaded sides are wrought with consummate skill, while the upper surface is inlaid with a handsome brass effigy of Nicholas de Handlo, who in the year 1360 married the heiress, and assumed the name, of the Burnell family. A glance at the sketch will show how well this fine old brass has withstood the wear and tear of more than 500 years. The knight's head is crowned by a peaked hauberk, and the soldierly face, with its long, flowing moustache, looks out from a richly cusped and crocketed canopy. A leather jerkin is worn over the tight-fitting coat of chain-mail, and a jewelled belt supports the long-handled sword and dagger. The legs are encased in greaves; and huge spurs, flexible foot-gear, and gauntlets upon the uplifted hands, complete the tale of this warrior's battle harness. A couchant lion, or griffin, keeps ward beside the feet, and upon a brass plate at the head we read the following inscription:
Hic iacet diis Nichus Burnell miles dus
De holgot qui obiit xixo die Januarii Anno
Dni Mmo CECmo Lxxxiio Cui aie ppiciet ds am.
We have by no means exhausted the attractions of this interesting interior, but, to make a long story short, will merely remark, en passant, there are numerous objects worthy of note in other parts of the church.
A stone's throw distant from the sacred edifice, overshadowed by stately trees, rise the ivy-mantled walls and turrets of Acton Burnell Castle, originally founded by Sir Robert Burnell, sometime chaplain and private secretary to Prince Edward, afterwards King Edward I. It is recorded that in the year 1284 Burnell received the royal license to crenellate his castle at Acton, and the picturesque ruin now before us is a work of that period.
The castle stands four-square, its length from east to west somewhat greater than the width, a slender turret rising at either corner. The moat is conspicuous by its absence, which goes to confirm the theory that Acton Burnell was rather an early embattled mansion, like its neighbour of Stokesay, than a military castle of the usual mediæval type. These massive old ruddy-grey sandstone walls are pierced with mullioned windows, whose vacant cavities still retain fragments of geometrical tracery; while a pathetic-looking wooden turret, in the last stages of decay, peeps out from the mantle of ivy that envelopes the western front. One or two noble old cedar trees, rising close at hand, fling their cool, dappled shadows athwart the level greensward; and beyond them we catch a glimpse of richly timbered park land.
Out there beneath a clump of elms, where the rooks are making merry, certain fragments of grey crumbling stonework are seen, so thither we now bend our steps. These prove to be two lofty massive gables of early Edwardian, or perhaps Norman, date, the last survivals of the hall of the original castle, or manor-house, of Acton Burnell. This secluded spot has become famous from the fact that here, for the first time in history, Lords and Commons sat in council, under the presidency of King Edward I., and proceeded to enact what is known as the 'Statutum de Mercatoribus,' or Statute of Acton Burnell. That took place in the year of grace 1283, just a year before Sir Robert Burnell began the erection of the later mansion, whose ruins we have just visited.
So, before taking leave of the place, we call to mind that when John Leland the antiquary journeyed this way, early in the sixteenth century, he found at Acton Burnell 'a goodly manor Place, or Castel, iiii myles from Shrewsbyri, wher a Parliament was kepte in a greate Barne. It was first made,' he adds, 'by one Burnell, a Byshope.' Robert Burnell, whose name is so closely identified with this his native place, seems to have found favour in the sight of his Sovereign, for Edward I. advanced him to the see of Bath and Wells, and created his faithful liege Lord Treasurer, and Chancellor of the realm. Burnell was frequently employed by the king in affairs of state, especially in connection with the Welsh Marches; and, dying in 1292, was buried in his own cathedral of Wells. His descendants dwelt subsequently at Holgate, in Corve Dale, and the family appears to have finally died out some time in the fifteenth century.