After the Romans vacated Lancashire, the conversion of Constantine the Great to Christianity ([see p. 17]) had no doubt some effect upon religious thought even in Northumbria. But long after the Roman Empire became a Christian State, the tribes which were then struggling for supremacy in Britain still adhered to the old pagan worship, and Thor, the god of thunder, Wodin, the god of war, Eostre, the goddess of spring, and a host of others, were numbered amongst their deities. They believed, however, in a future state, as their warriors slain in battle were supposed to inhabit a bright and happy palace called Valhalla. Near the end of the sixth century, King Æthelbert, who ruled in Kent, married the daughter of King Charibert of Paris, and by the terms of her marriage contract she was to be allowed to enjoy the exercise of Christian worship, which she did in a small chapel near Canterbury. With her, from France, came a Frankish Bishop named Liuhard, who was soon followed by a Roman Abbot named Augustine, who came by instructions from Pope Gregory I., accompanied by some forty monks, who were to establish the Christian religion in Kent; they ultimately persuaded the King to be baptized, and this event may be regarded as the foundation of the Christian religion in England. Little by little the new religion spread, and in A.D. 627 Edwin, the King of Northumbria, became a convert through the instrumentality of his wife, who was a daughter of Æthelbert, ([see p. 42]), and Paulinus, one of the company who came to Britain with Augustine. He had been consecrated to the episcopate by Justus, Archbishop of Canterbury, “in order that he might be to Ethelburga, in her Northern home, what Liuhard had been to her mother in the still heathen Kent.”[169] On the authority of Bede, Paulinus was a man of striking appearance, being tall, though slightly stooping, with black hair, but of worn and wasted visage; his nose thin, but curved like an eagle’s beak, and altogether a presence to command respect and veneration.

The tale as told by Bede, of the dramatic events which led up to the conversion of Edwin, must be received with caution, mixed up as it is with such incidents as a spiritual visitor with whom the narrator held familiar converse; nevertheless, the main facts of the story are probably correct, allowing for the fact that the account was written nearly 100 years after the events took place, and by one who was prone to mix with history incidents which would only at the present time be classed with legends and superstitions. The story, briefly told (omitting the apparition), is that Edwin for a long time refused to abandon his old faith, but after an attempt had been made to assassinate him, the birth of a daughter and a victory over his enemy, the King of the West Saxons—all of which events were turned to account by the wily Bishop (who was trying to convert him)—he consented to call a council of leading men and to lay the matter before them, and if they agreed with him they would together be baptized and admitted into the Church.

At this meeting, a chief priest of one of the pagan temples, Coifi by name, declared himself against his old faith on the simple grounds that after all his long devotion to his gods he was still without that worldly success for which his soul thirsted; and, therefore, as he had nothing to lose and everything to gain, he should vote for giving the new religion a trial.

Another of the council spoke, and in simple but striking words reminded his hearers how they had often on a winter’s night, gathered round the fire, when all outside was dark and dreary, the wind howling and the rain beating against the latticed windows, when a door for a moment opened admitting a poor little bird seeking shelter from the storm. But a moment only it stays, flies across the hall, and is gone. This, he continued, is a fit emblem of man’s life; he appears for a little season, and having finished his appointed course is gone; but no earthly wisdom has told us from whence he came, or has illuminated his departure. And so, he concluded, if the new teacher can tell us anything with assurance of certainty as to man’s origin or future destiny, his words ought to be received and accepted. Paulinus then addressed the assembly, at the conclusion of which Coifi, with all the fanatic zeal which might be expected from such a man, volunteered to enter the temples of the gods and to take therefrom what he heretofore had held to be sacred, and having been armed and mounted he rode to Goodmanham, a place of the highest pagan sanctity, and there tore down the idols of Thor and Wodin with shouts of joy and gladness. Bede adds, the people stood awe–struck, and thought that their chief priest had gone mad. But Coifi knew what he was about; he had only determined (like many a better man had done before) to keep himself on the winning side, for he saw clearly enough that paganism had received its death–blow, and however little his gods had done for him in the past, they would certainly do less in the future. Edwin, with the enthusiasm of a new convert, now set about erecting a small church, or more probably an oratory, in the city of York. This was made of wood, and within this building the Northumbrian King was baptized by Paulinus on Easter Day, A.D. 627 (April 12). This oratory was not long afterwards enclosed within a larger structure which was built of stone, and upon the site of which was afterwards erected the stately Minster of York. It is said that shortly after the baptism of Edwin a large number of his barons and subjects followed his example. Paulinus and his friends now lost no time in spreading through the length and breadth of Northumbria the tenets of the Christian religion, and under the patronage of the King and Queen no doubt many proselytes were obtained, not a few of whom were dwellers on Lancashire soil. This missionary work proceeded uninterruptedly for six years, but was then destined to receive a very severe check by the war between Edwin and Penda ([see p. 42]), in which the King of Northumbria was defeated and slain on October 12, A.D. 633, and subsequently the whole of his kingdom was overrun by pagan soldiers, who, according to Bede, slaughtered the Christians without regard to either age or sex. The head of Edwin was taken to York by some of his friends, and placed within the church which he had so recently built. Ethelburga, the Queen, and her two children, escorted by Paulinus, fled into Kent, and Paulinus was afterwards presented to the See of Rochester.

He was never Archbishop of York (as by some supposed), although the Pope offered that dignity to him; the letter was addressed to Edwin, who was dead before it was delivered. Paulinus died at Rochester October 10, A.D. 644. Cædwallon ruled over Northumbria for only a few years, and his successor, Oswald, who had probably passed some years in the monastery of Iona very early in his reign, sent over to that community for help towards the revival of Christianity in this kingdom.

The first priest who was sent returned reporting that the people were impracticable and refused to be converted, whereupon a priest called Aiden was consecrated Bishop, and despatched to Northumbria in the year 635.

Oswald did not, as might have been expected, place Aiden at York, but gave to him a small island on the coast of Durham known as Holy Island, and here was founded the abbey of Lindisfarne, which was destroyed by the Danes in A.D. 795; from this centre the missionary work in the North of England emanated. The basilica at York was finished by Oswald, and by erecting other churches and granting lands for the sites of religious houses this King did much to establish the Christian religion in the North. But after eight years of comparative peace Northumbria again passed into pagan hands ([see p. 43]), and not until Penda in A.D. 655 was defeated and slain did paganism receive its death–blow. Oswy, on gaining this final victory, fulfilled the vow which he had made—that if he was successful in this war he would give twelve sites for as many monasteries, and give his infant daughter to serve the Lord in holy virginity. The monasteries were founded, but none of them appear to have been on the western or Lancashire side of the Pennine Hills. Early in A.D. 665 the bishopric of York was re–established, when Wilfrid was consecrated as Bishop at Compiègne in France; but having delayed his coming to his see for nearly twelve months, he was not a little astonished to find that in the meantime Chad’s consecration had taken place and he was already in possession. For a few years only he held the office, and on his retirement to the monastery of Lastingham, Wilfrid took his place.

Of the dispute with Theodore, Archbishop of Canterbury, and the temporary expulsion of Wilfrid from the See of York and his subsequent visit to Rome, where he saw the Pope, and obtained from him a decree which was to reinstate him, little need here be said, except that on his return to York, and a “witan” having been called, the Pope’s order was treated with scorn by the assembly, and Wilfrid was cast into prison, where he remained for nine months.

The real point at issue was the supremacy of the Pope, Egfrid, the King of Northumbria, being strongly opposed to it, whilst Wilfrid and his friends were just as firmly decided in its favour. Wilfrid had for some years been the sole Bishop of Northumbria, his diocese extending from the Firth of Forth to the Humber, and from the Firth of Clyde to the Mersey. Through the entreaty of an aunt of the King’s, who was Abbess of Ebba, Wilfrid was at length liberated, but banished from the kingdom. Whilst these disputes were going on, Bosa occupied the episcopal chair of York, and was followed by John of Beverley, who died May 7, A.D. 721. Before this date several monasteries are believed to have been established in Lancashire. Wilfrid II. held the see from 718 to 732, when he was succeeded by Egbert, to whom Bede, now an old man, addressed a letter, the contents of which show clearly that already many abuses had crept into the Church, and that in some of the so–called religious houses luxury and license were more the rule than the exception. Land granted for purely religious purposes, and thus free from secular claims, was used to erect houses, religious in name, but really only dwelling–places for the founders and their people. Egbert, in A.D. 735, was appointed by Pope Gregory III. Archbishop of York, and thus became Primate of the Northern Province, and a few years afterwards his brother, Eadbert, became King of Northumbria. Towards the middle of the ninth century began the invasions of the Danes ([see p. 44]), which continued until A.D. 867, when the whole of Northumbria was in their possession, and for many years before and after this event the ecclesiastical history of the kingdom is almost a blank. The new occupiers of Northumbria were mostly from Denmark, and were a wild, lawless set of pirates, distinguished for courage, ferocity, and a violent hatred to the newly–established faith. The religion these tribes professed was a worship of Odin and other kindred gods. A great point of difference between the conquerors and conquered (who had both descended from the same race) was that whilst the Danes had continued to worship the gods of their forefathers, and had not forsaken their old profession of sea–pirates, the settlers in Britain had devoted themselves to peaceful pursuits, and had to a great extent adopted the new religion.

It may therefore be taken for granted that amongst the first objects upon which they wreaked their vengeance would be the newly–erected churches, and in all probability not one was left untouched. Persecution would follow as a natural consequence, and the religious progress made during the last two centuries was not only arrested, but almost annihilated. During the troubled times which intervened between this period and the election of Edward the Confessor Christianity made some progress, as even the Danes to some extent yielded to its influence, and a Bishop of Danish blood (Oskytel) occupied the episcopal chair of York, and his kinsman Oswald, in A.D. 972, was Archbishop, and held the see until his death in A.D. 992.[170] With the Conquest came another change, and the Bishops of York were selected from Norman ecclesiastics. Up to this period, except as part of the Diocese of York, we have found but scanty records referring to the religious history of Lancashire, but, nevertheless, it is absolutely certain that in some few of its scattered villages churches were built and Christian colonies established. But in considering this question it must be borne in mind that in what we call Lancashire there were at that time no large towns, nor even any number of considerable–sized villages; the inhabitants were mostly engaged in agricultural pursuits, and the religious requirements were administered from York. In Yorkshire and other parts of ancient Northumbria we know that churches and monasteries had been so long established that into the latter many abuses had been introduced even as early as A.D. 732, but we have no evidence to lead us to suppose that such was the case in Lancashire.