Having completed our perambulations of the town, let us betake ourselves once more to the country. We remount the hill, which we descended on leaving Thimbleby for Horncastle, but by a different road, viz., one running due west. Half way up the ascent of this, the westernmost spur of the chalky Wolds, we have two roads, either of which would bring us to Woodhall Spa, almost equi-distant by either; but that is not, as yet, our destination. We continue the ascent, due westward. The summit reached, we have a wide prospect before us. To the left, on a clear day, Boston Stump is visible, the Tower on the Moor rises above the woods, beyond that Tattershall castle and church; in the dim distance the graceful spire of Heckington points, like a needle, to the sky. Straight in front of us woods on woods band and bar the prospect, relieved by the spires of Old Woodhall and Horsington. To the right, the horizon is crowned by the almost pyramidal shape of Lincoln Minster, the seeing eye also detecting the lesser pyramid of the Chapter House, other spires, with the factory chimneys of the now busy city, more than its old prosperity being revived. Further to the right the plantations of Fillingham Castle, some miles beyond Lincoln, on the “Spital road,” fringe the view. Truly, it is a wide-ranging outlook, embracing little short of 30 miles, with many a village and hamlet, buried and unseen, in its entourage of wood. Immediately in the near front is Langton mill, a conspicuous object, which I have distinguished from the top of Lincoln Minster itself. Half-a-mile farther lies the village of Langton, one of three of the same name in the neighbourhood—one near Spilsby, one near Wragby, and this “by Horncastle.” As to the meaning of the name Langton, Dr. Oliver refers the first syllable to the British “Lan” (Welsh Llan), meaning “place of worship,” and so corresponding to Kirkby, or
Kirkstead. In this particular case, however, the ordinary meaning of “Lang,” or “long,” would be specially applicable, since the village has evidently at one time been larger than at present, and the parish extended, some six miles, to the Witham, until, quite recently, the distant portion was included in Woodhall Spa. Here again we had, until recent years, in the rectory, another moated residence, standing almost on an island, being surrounded by water except for the space of the churchyard and the width of a drive to the house. The moat was drained for sanitary reasons about 50 yeans ago, to the regret of many, since, as has been mentioned in a previous chapter (Chapter VI.), it contained an abundance of large pike, and other fish, from which the lake at Sturton Hall was stocked. The Queen was the lady of the manor until, in 1860, much Crown property was sold in this neighbourhood, and the manor and most of the land in the parish, except the glebe, was bought by the Coates family, who have a substantial residence here.
In three fields at the west end of the village are traces of ponds, mounds, and hollows, indicating large buildings existing at one time. And we have sundry records of men of rank who have owned land, and probably resided, in the parish. Dugdale [196a] tells us that this “town” was given by the Conqueror to the then powerful Bishop of Durham, whose name was William de Karilepho. He was Chief Justice of England. This gift the Conqueror may be said to have “confirmed with an oath,” for the charter, conveying the land, sets forth that they “shall be preserved inviolable for ever,” and concludes with an anathema on whosoever shall profane the charter, or change anything therein, unless for the better:—“by the authority of the Prince of Apostles, I deprive them of the society of the Lord, the aforesaid Pope Gregory, and the Church; and reserve them by the judgment of God, to be punished by everlasting fire with the devil and his angels. Amen.” This fearful threat of Divine vengeance, however, seems to have lost its terror after a lapse of time of no very great length, since, according to the historian Banks, [196b] in the 9th year of Edward I. Philip de Marmion held the manor.
There was formerly not only Langton, but an outlying Langton-thorpe, and this is probably
referred to in Domesday Book as the “Berewick” of Langton, for it is there stated that Robert Dispenser held in this Berewick [197a] of Langton one carucate in demesne, eight soke men (tenants) with half a carucate, and four villeins with two carucates, and twenty-four acres of meadow, and two hundred and eighty acres of wood containing pasturage.
A powerful family of the Angevines lived here at a later period. There is, extant among the Records of Lincoln, [197b] the Will of Robert Angevine, Gent., of Langton by Horncastle, dated 25th April, 1545, in which he requests that he may be buried in the church of St. Margaret; he bequeaths to his daughters, Millesancte, Grace, Jane, and Mary, “vli. apiece,” the money to come out of Burnsall, Hebden, Conyseat, and Norton, in Yorkshire; to his wife Margaret “xli. a year for life out of the said lands”; and to his son William lands in Hameringham. The family acquired their name thus:—Ivo Tailbois was at the head of the Aungevine troops of auxiliaries which William the Conqueror brought over with him from Normandy; and this name, in time, took the various forms of Aungelyne, Aungeby, and Angevine. There were Angevines at Whaplode, in the south-east of the county, in the 12th century. There was a branch of them at Theddlethorpe, and at Saltfleetby, in the 14th century. The one at Langton had a brother at West Ashby. They appear in the Visitation of 1562 among the leading families of the county gentry; but in 1592 the name does not appear, and they dwindled away, and at the time of the Commonwealth are nowhere found. The old families of Scroope and of Langton are also said to have resided here. A member of the family of the Dightons, who owned Stourton, Waddingworth, and other properties in this neighbourhood, if not actually residing in Langton (although he probably did), had an interest in the place, as, in a Will, still at Lincoln, dated 15th July, 1557, having requested that he might “be buried in the quire where
I die”; among other bequests, he leaves a sum of money “to the poore of Langton by Horncastle.” [198]
From 1653 to 1656 Justice Filkin resided at Langton, and before him persons of Horncastle and the neighbourhood were frequently married, the law at that time recognising only civil marriages.
The church of Langton (St. Margaret’s) is a small edifice, and, until recently, was in a very poor condition, with no pretension to architectural beauty in any of its features. It had been rebuilt in the 18th century, at the very worst period for such work, and so badly done that it was almost a ruin when the writer, as rector, undertook its restoration. Though still small, it now has several interesting features. The pulpit, reading desk and lectern have been carved by the Rector, in old oak, in Jacobean style, in memory of his father, who was rector 49 years. In the chancel there is an Aumbrey containing an ancient stoup of Barnack stone, said to have formerly been the holy water vessel of Spalding Priory. On the Communion table is a curious old alms dish of “lateen” metal; the device in the centre is the temptation by the devil of our first parents; an inscription in old Dutch runs round,—Vreest Goedt honderhovedt syn geboedt; or, Fear God, keep his commandments. The font bowl is Early Norman, of Barnack stone, discovered by the Rector among rubbish in some back premises in Horncastle, and supposed to have been the font of the Early Norman church of St. Lawrence, once existing there; the pedestal and base are fragments from the ruins of Kirkstead. In a recess, or aumbrey, behind the west door, is a very interesting relic, found, a few years ago, in the moat of the old hall at Poolham, which we described in the previous chapter. We there mentioned the remains of an oratory, or chapel, still standing in the south-west corner of the kitchen garden at the old Hall. Some men were employed in cleaning out the mud from the encircling moat, the season being a very dry one, and the moat almost empty of water. This had not been done for many years, if ever before, and the mud was some feet thick. Below the above-named chapel ruins an object was thrown up among the mud, which the men took to be a broken seed vessel formerly
belonging to a birdcage, but as it was curiously marked, one of them took it home, and asked the writer to go and look at it. He did so, and, seeing its antiquity, he obtained it for a trifle, and communicated with the Society of Antiquaries, and other authorities, about it, with the result that it was pronounced to be a mediæval chrismatory. It was made of coarse tarra-cotta of a greyish buff colour, ornamented with patterns of squares, diamonds and crosses, with a fleur-de-lys in the centre of one side, emblematic of the Trinity. It contained in the body two square wells about an inch deep, which were originally covered with arched roofs, but one of these had been broken off. At each end was a spout from the cellar. Its total length was 7 inches; its height, including the roof, 4 inches; breadth, 3 inches. The use of the chrismatory was this:—When a child was to be baptised, as it was brought into the church it was sprinkled with salt, and at baptism it was anointed with oil; and the two cellars were intended respectively to hold the salt and oil. This object has been exhibited on various public occasions, and has excited much interest, as it is considered to be quite unique. The church was at one time considerably larger, as, at the restoration in 1891, the foundations of a north aisle were found, as well as of a tower. The Land Revenue Records mention that, in 1553, it had “three gret bells and a sanctum bell.” [199a] The only remaining bell bears the inscription “Anno Domini 1579, R. G.” [199b] Considerable neglect has been allowed in the past, as is shown by the Archdeacon’s Visitation in 1606, when the rector, Wm. Kirk, was presented “for the decay of his parsonage house”; while Wm. Newport, Thos. Goniston, and John Hodgson, guardians, were reported as “collecting monie to ye value of iijl, vjs, vijd, to buy a Co’ion Cup, and not p’viding one, and for not p’viding a sufficient bible, and a chest with two lockers and keys.” Uriah Kirke, rector, was also presented “for suffering a barne of 3 baies to fall down belonging to ye parsonage, and for his chauncel being in decay, and the chauncel windows all broken.” And Charles Johnson and Augnes, widow of Robt. Thurnhill, late guardian, were reported as “selling away ye Communion Cup belonging to ye church.” This larger church had several windows in the chancel, instead of the one window of the modern church, and an old