On the Mareham road, on the south side of Horncastle, beyond the Black Swan inn, was a Roman burial ground, and several cinerary urns and some coffins have been discovered there. One stone coffin now stands in the back premises of Mr. James Isle, near to the corner where the Spilsby and Boston roads meet. In connection with this subject, I may here mention the most recent archæological “find” in Horncastle. While digging gravel in a pit recently opened in a garden at the back of Queen Street, not far from the Mareham Road, in 1897, the pick of the labourer struck against a hard substance, about two feet below the surface, which, on examination, proved to be an ancient coffin. It was constructed, except the lid, of one sheet of lead, slit at the corners to allow its being doubled up to form the sides and ends. The coffin was 5ft. 2in. in length, and within were the remains of a skeleton, pronounced by experts to be that of a female. A few days later a second lead coffin was found, similar to the former, except that it was 5ft. 7in. long, and the skeleton was pronounced to be that of a man. Both coffins lay east and west. The present writer was asked to investigate the matter. On enquiry, it was found that, about 24 years before, three lead coffins had been found within 100 yards of the same spot; they were sold for old lead and melted down. [110b] As Horncastle was the old Roman station Banovallum, the question arose whether these coffins were Roman, or of later, date. The orientation of both implied that they were Christian. After much interesting correspondence, the writer obtained the information from an antiquary of
note, that if the lead was pure it would be of post-Roman date, if it contained an admixture of tin it would most probably be Roman. Analysis of the lead was made by a professional, which gave “percentage of tin 1.65 to 97.08 of lead, 1.3 of oxygen, which implied that the persons buried were Romans, as well as Christians. A peculiar feature in these burials was that there were lumps of lime about the skeletons. I find, however, that some years ago a lead coffin was discovered near the Roman road, which passes through the parish of Bow, containing a skeleton with lime. [111] From its position near the Roman road we should infer that this was a Roman burial, and the presence of lime confirms the origin of the Horncastle coffins. The lime was probably used as a preservative. One of the coffins was sold for a collection in Manchester, the other was bought by public subscription, to be preserved for a future local museum. In the same gravel pit, a few days after the finding of the coffins, the labourer’s tool struck against another object, which proved to be an earthenware vessel, probably a Roman urn, but it was so shattered that he threw the fragments away, and they could not be recovered. It was described as being about 10 inches high, of a brown colour, and bearing traces of a pattern running round it.
Several old coins have been found in Horncastle, and some at Tattershall. As to the latter place, Allen, in his “History,” vol. ii., p. 72, and Weir (“Historical Account of Lincolnshire,” vol. i., p. 302), say that several Roman coins have been found, but they do not specify what they were. There were two so-called “Roman camps” in what is called Tattershall Park, this being supposed to be the Roman station Durobrivis. But, alas! “Jam seges est, ubi Troja fuit”: the plough has eliminated the camps from the field of view. Roman coins would be a natural result of a Roman station. It should not, however, be forgotten that Gough, Camden, and other authorities pronounce these camps to have been of British origin. The earlier Britons used mainly a brass coinage, or iron bars (utuntur aut aere, aut taleis ferreis, says Cæsar, Bell. Gall., v. 12); so that there should not be much difficulty in deciding whether the coins were those of British or Roman occupants. Taught by the Romans, the later Britons probably coined considerably. The oldest
specimens known to be coined at Lincoln bear the name of King Arthur. Camden and Speed give several. At Horncastle, the oldest coin found was British, having on one side, amid mystic circles, the figure of a “horse rampant,” indicative of the reverence in which the horse was held by the Druids. [112a] Stukeley says, in his Diary, “a coign I got of Carausius found at Hornecastle. It had been silvered over. The legend of the reverse is obscure. It seems to be a figure, sitting on a coat of armour, or trophy, with a garland in her left hand, and (legend) Victorii Aug.” [112b] Silver coins of Vespasian, Lucius Septimius Severus, Alexander Severus, and Volusianus, a large brass coin of Trajan, middle brass of Caligula, Claudius, Nero, Trajan, Hadrian, Domitian, Antoninus Pius, Faustina the elder, Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, Lucius Verus, and Faustina the younger, and several more. [112c] In December, 1898, a coin was found by a son of Mr. W. K. Morton, bookseller, while playing in the garden at Onslow House, which proved to be one of the Emperor Constantine.
In deepening the bed of the river Bain to form the canal, in 1802, an ornamental brass spur, part of a brass crucifix, and a dagger, were found together, at a short distance from the north basin of the canal; and the writer once found, some quarter of a mile out of Horncastle, on Langton hill, the rowell of a spur, with very long spikes, probably at one time belonging to a cavalier at the battle of Winceby. He has also in his possession a pair of brass spurs, found not far from Winceby, massive and heavy, the spikes of the rowell being an inch in length.
Let us now return to Woodhall Spa; and on the way pause for a moment on the moor. We have already mentioned a curious character, by name Dawson, but more commonly called “Tab-shag,” who, within the memory of the writer and many more, lived as a kind of squatter, in his sod-built hut, close to “The Tower.” A sort of living fossil was this individual, short in stature, dark in complexion, and with a piercing, almost uncanny, eye; roughly clad, and looking as though he were something of a stranger to soap and water. “What’s in a name?” said
love-sick Juliet. Yet the name which clung to this eccentric person probably had its significance. In one of the “Magic Songs” of the Finns (given in “Folklore,” vol. i., No. iii., p. 827) a sort of demon is described as “Old Shaggy,” “the horror of the land,” “reared on a heather clump,” “living on the lee side of a stone,” corresponding much to the home and haunts of our Tab-shag. Brogden [113] says “Shag-foal” means “a hobgoblin supposed to haunt certain places,” and a writer in the “Archæological Review” (for January, 1890) says that “Shag” is an old term for an elf, or Brownie, or “goblin dwarf.” He adds, “The Hog-boy, or Howe-boy, of the Orkneys, in Lincolnshire is pronounced Shag-boy.” An old lady, born at the beginning of the eighteenth century, is quoted, in “The Cornhill Magazine” (August, 1882) as saying she had often heard of fairies and shag boys, but had never seen one herself, “though lasses were often skeart (i.e., scared, frightened) at them.” And the weird-looking figure of Tab-shag, living in the peculiar way he did, in a kind of “brock,” or “how,” of his own construction, was not altogether unlike that of one of the “How folk,” the “little people,” believed in by our superstitious forefathers, and whose memory is perpetuated in the Folk’s glove (digitalis) of our heath; as he squatted on his “faerie-knowe” on the lee side of the old Tower, or roamed over the dreary moor at nightfall to startle the belated wayfarer.
What may have been the meaning of the other element in his soubriquet is not so easy to say. There is a Cornish (and probably British) word “Tab,” which means turf (“Archæol. Journ.” vol. ii., No. 3, p. 199), and that would suit this dweller on the heath; but it is more likely that “Tab” had a reference to the cat, “Tabby” being the term for a brindled cat. And Bishop Harsnet, in his curious book on “The Superstitions of the Day” (1605), says a witch, or elf, “can take the form of hare, mouse, or cat.”
Tabby is really a corruption of Tibby, and that is from Tybalt, the name of puss in the old Beast Epic of the middle ages. Ben Johnson uses “tiberts” for cats; and Mercutio, in “Romeo and Juliet” (Act. iii., sc. 1) addresses Tybalt, when wishing to annoy him, as “Tybalt, you rat catcher . . . King of cats” (Folk-etymology).
This prowler on the heath might well be likened to pussy prowling after mice, or higher