I mentioned in a previous chapter the very bad condition of the roads about here; and there is a still lingering tradition that the last of the Fynes residing at White Hall used to drive about in a waggon drawn by bullocks. This estate, with some other land, of which the writer has been “shooting tenant” for more than a score of years, is still in the hands of “the Fiennes Clinton Trustees”; but there are Fynes, still in the flesh, living in our midst at Woodhall, who, though treading a humbler walk in life, are not altogether unworthy of their high ancestry. [138]
There is another old moated residence, of considerable historic interest, which next claims our attention. Within a mile westward of the Wood Hall, by the church, and closely contiguous to the north-west boundary of the Woodhall estate, stands Poolham Hall, an old-fashioned, but
comfortable and substantially-built, stucco-coated and slated farmhouse. It now, along with the small manor, belongs to Dr. Byron, residing in London, who bought it a few years ago from Mr. Christopher Turnor, of Stoke Rochford and Panton Hall, in this county. At the back of the Hall, at the south-west corner of what is now the kitchen garden, and close to the enclosing moat, are the remains of a small chapel, consisting of an end wall and part of a side wall, each with a narrow window; there are fragments of larger stones bearing traces of sculpture, and, within recollection, there was also a tombstone with the date 1527, and a font. [139] The house was, doubtless, formerly much larger than it is now. Like the other similar residences which I have described, Poolham Hall has close by it a running stream, called Monk’s dyke, which unites with some of the other becks already named, and ultimately flows into the Witham. The chief interest in this old place lies in the distant past; it has gone through a varied series of vicissitudes, and witnessed some stirring scenes. Weir, in his “History of Horncastle” (ed. 1820, p. 58), under the head of Edlington, says briefly of Poolham, “anciently called Polum, it formed part of the Barony of Gilbert de Gaunt, until about the 35th year of Edward I., when Robert de Barkeworth died seised of it; and it appears to have been the residence of Walter de Barkeworth, who died in 1374, and was buried in the cloister of Lincoln Cathedral. Afterwards it was the residence of the family of Thimbleby, a branch of the Thimblebys of Irnham, who probably built the present house about the time of Henry VIII. In the reign of Elizabeth the Saviles of Howley possessed it; and in 1600 Sir John Savile, Knight, sold it to George Bolles, citizen of London, whose descendant, Sir John Bolles, Baronet, conveyed it to Sir Edmund Turnor, Knight, of Stoke Rochford.” Of the above families, I have not been able to find very much about the Barkworths, who took their name
doubtless from East Barkwith, where they had property. But Gocelyn de Barkworth, and after him William de Barkworth, are named in an Assize Roll (4 Ed. II., 1311) as having possessions in Tetford. In 3 Ed. III. (a.d. 1329), William de Barkworth and his wife “fflorianora” were plaintiffs in a land dispute with Robert de Hanay and Alice his wife; whereby “1 messuage, 1 carucate of land, 9 acres of meadow, 1 acre of ‘more,’ and the moiety of 1 messuage and 1 mill, with appurtenances in Normanby, Claxby, and Ussylby, were quitclaimed to William and fflorianora, and fflorianora’s heirs.” I may add, as to the item here named “1 mill,” that a mill in those days was a property of some value; all the dependents of the lord of the manor were obliged to have their corn, for man or beast, ground in it; and no other mill was allowed in the neighbourhood where one was already established. It is recorded by Beckman that “a certain Abbot wished to erect a mill, which was objected to by a neighbouring proprietor, who contended that the wind of the whole district belonged to him. The monks complained to the bishop, who gave them permission to build, affirming that the wind of the whole diocese was episcopal property.” (Oliver’s “Rel., Houses,” p. 76 note 9.) In 1351 William de Barkworth, “lord of Polume,” presented to the moiety of the chapelry (of Poolham); and in 1369 Thomas de Thymelby presented to it. And from this time the Thimblebyes take the place of the Barkworths. These Thimblebyes, whose name is variously spelt Thimelby, Thymbylbye, and even (as in Domesday Book) Stimblebi, and Stinblebi, were a numerous and influential race. Their chief residence was Irnham Park, near Grantham, which was acquired about 1510 by Richard Thimbleby, on his marriage with the heiress of Godfrey Hilton, whose ancestor, Sir Geoffrey Hilton, Knight, had obtained it in 1419, by his marriage with an heiress of the Luterels, several of whom were called to Parliament, as Barons, in the 13th century. This was one of fifteen manors given by William the Conqueror to Ralph Paganel; and with the heiress of his family it passed, by marriage, to Sir Andrew Luterel, Knight. The Thymblebyes would seem to have taken their patronymic from the village of that name (part of which now forms a portion of the Woodhall Spa parish), as the earlier members of the family we find designated as Thomas de Thymelby. Nicholas de Thymelby, and so forth. Besides land in
Thimbleby they owned many other estates. For instance, in the Court of Wards Inquisitions (3, 4, and 5 Edward VI., vol. v., 91), we find that Matthew Thimbleby “of Polom,” who married Anne, daughter of Sir Robert Hussey, about 1521, died “seised of the manors of Polome, Farfford, Ruckelyond, Somersby, Parish-fee, in Horncastle, Edlynton, Thymylby, and Tydd St. Mary; also of lands in Horsyngton, Styxwolde, Blankney, Buckland (i.e. Woodhall), and Flette: and of the advowsons of Tetforde, Farefford, Rucklonde, and Somersbye.” This Matthew Thimbleby’s wealthy “grass widow” married again, Sir Robert Savile, Knight, who (according to Chancery Inquisition, post mortem, 28 Eliz., 1st part, No. 116) “died seised of the manors of Poolham, Horsington, Stixwolde, Edlington, Tetford, Farforth, Somersby, and Ruckland.”
Before quitting the Thimblebyes, we have one more incident to name in connection with them. In 1581, one of them, residing at Poolham, was imprisoned in Lincoln Castle for refusing to attend the new Reformed Services and Communion. His wife greatly desired to see him, and was allowed her request by Thomas Cooper, Bishop of Lincoln. She was near her confinement, but, as her name was among a list of those not favourable to the Reformation, she was treated rather roughly, and detained by force in her husband’s cell. This brought on premature labour, and in the hour of her weakness she was denied the assistance of a matron. It is said that a speedy death ended her sufferings; her husband also dying in prison.—“The Church under Elizabeth,” by Dr. F. G. Lee, vol. ii., p. 60. It is further recorded of this same Bishop, that he summoned Sir Robert Dymoke to Lincoln for examination as to his supposed Papist tendencies, and on Sir Robert excusing himself on the score of ill health, the Bishop came in person to Scrivelsby and carried him forcibly to Lincoln, and cast him into prison, where he presently died. It is not a little curious that one, who, as a doughty knight, at three coronations threw down his gauntlet and challenged the world on his Sovereign’s behalf, should have succumbed to a stiff-necked prelate. The account of this is given in Lodge’s “Scrivelsby, the Home of the Champions,” pp. 77, 78.
We now come to the Saviles. They were a wealthy and distinguished Yorkshire family, now represented by the Earls of Mexborough. Sir Robert disposed of some of the property in
this neighbourhood, which he had acquired by his marriage with the widow Thimbleby, but he retained Poolham, and made the Hall his headquarters. [142a] The Saviles may have been hot-blooded, for they had not been located long at Poolham before they became embroiled with their neighbours. The manners of the times were somewhat rough, and we here give a sample or two. The autocrat of the neighbourhood at that time was Henry Fiennes Clinton, second Earl of Lincoln, who was apparently inclined to ride roughshod over everyone who came in his way; the object of his life seems to have been to quarrel, and to keep in a state of irritation the county from which he derived his title. It is said that Denzil Hollis, “living much at Irby, used to confront the Earl of Lincoln, who was a great tyrant among the gentry of Lincolnshire, and to carry business against him, in spite of his teeth.” [142b] But stout old Denzil died in 1590, and, this check withdrawn, the Earl’s conduct increased in violence. [142c] Lodge, [142d] in his records, mentions one Roger Fullshaw of Waddingworth
(near Horncastle), who, in 1596, prayed for protection against the most horrible outrages committed by the Earl, and says that his conduct savoured of insanity. Before he succeeded to the earldom, and consequently when he had not yet so much power to oppress, he committed the following aggressions on the Saviles of Poolham. We must premise that Sir Robert Savile, though a knight of good estate, and though his descendants became Earls of Sussex, was, nevertheless, a natural son of Sir Henry Savile, by Margaret Barkston, “his Ladie’s gentlewoman,” [143a] which, as will be seen, was not forgotten by the high-born Clinton. These occurrences took place in 1578. They were neighbours, and jealous of trespass; and, on the 13th of June, Lord Clinton, “with 7 men with cross-bowes and long-bowes bent,” forced himself into the parlour at Poolham Hall, and, after threatening words, struck Sheffield Savile, the son, on the head. The elder Savile says that he prevented his son from noticing the outrage, an unusual degree of forbearance under the circumstances; but there had evidently been some previous misunderstanding, and possibly young Savile had been in the wrong. On the 25th of June following, Lord Clinton, hearing Sir Robert’s hounds hunting in Mr. Welby’s wood, [143b] although it was no concern of his, seized five of them, and then sent a letter to Sir Robert, threatening that he would hang them before his house; and, in fact, did hang them, as Sir Robert says, “upon my own tree within my own ground.”
Another violent proceeding is described in a letter of the Earl’s friend. Mr. Metham [143c] had been previously entertaining Lord Clinton at Metham, and was now on a return visit to Tattershall; and, as he relates, “It pleased him (Lord Clinton) to carrye me with my companye through his park (still surviving in the name “Tattershall park”) unto the chase, where his meaning was to have made sport with hounds