while the Duke of Buckingham, describing, in a “skit,” the contest for the Laureateship, says,
In rushed Eusden, and cryed, “Who shall have it?
But I, the true Laureate, to whom the king gave it?”
Apollo begged pardon, and granted his claim,
But vowed that till then he’d ne’er heard of his name.
John Dyer, born 1700, was a much more reputable person. He was educated at Westminster; began life as an itinerant artist, with a keen eye to the beauties of nature, when that taste was little cultivated. He was appointed to the rectory by Sir John Heathcote in 1752, and in 1755 to Kirkby-on-Bain, for which he exchanged Belchford, where he had formerly been. He was the author of “Grongar Hill,” “The Fleece,” and “The Ruins of Rome.” He was honoured with a sonnet by Wordsworth; but his longer poems are somewhat wearisome reading.
The place-names in this parish indicate the condition of woodland and waste which formerly prevailed. Immediately south of the church and its surroundings we find the “Ings,” or meadows, the Saxon term which we have noticed in several other parishes. Further off,
we have “Oaklands” farm, and “Scrub-hill,” “scrub” being an old Lincolnshire word for a small wood; as we have, in the neighbourhood, ‘Edlington Scrubs’ and ‘Roughton Scrubs.’ “Reedham,” another name, indicates a waste of morass. “Toot-hill” might be a raised ground from which a watch, or look-out, was kept, in troublous times; and Dr. Oliver says, in his “Religious Houses,” Appendix, p. 166, “‘Taut’ is a place of observation; ‘Touter’ is a watcher in hiding;” but it is more likely to be from the Saxon “tot,” an eminence (“totian,” to rise), in which case the second syllable, “hill,” is only a later translation of the first. However, Toot-hill, Tothill, or Tooter’s hill, are not uncommon in other parts, and are said to have been connected with the heathen worship of Taith. Langworth Grange, in this parish, would probably be (as elsewhere) a corruption of Langwath, the long ford over some of the fenny stretches of water. The most peculiar place-name is “Troy-wood.” It is possible that, as at Horncastle, this may have been a place where the youths gathered to play the old game of “Troy town”; but is more likely of British origin, a remnant of the Fenland Grirvii. Troy Town is a hamlet near Dorchester, but there are several spots in Wales named Caer-troi, which means a bending, or tortuous town, a labyrinth, such as the Britons made with banks of turf.
We have now about done with Coningsby. We are welcome to enter the rectory, where we notice the large arch, already referred to, of the former refectory. Other objects of interest may be shewn us by the Rector, but we turn to the western window of the drawing-room to gaze upon a sight unparalleled. Not a mile away there rises up before us the stately structure of Tattershall Castle, “the finest piece of brickwork in the kingdom”; and, close by, beneath, as it were, its sheltering wing, the collegiate church, almost, in its way, as grand an object. L’appetit vient en mangeant; and, as we devour the prospect, we hunger and thirst for a closer acquaintance with their attractions.
Leaving Coningsby, and proceeding westward, we reach the bridge which spans the Horncastle canal. Here we pause to turn round and take a look behind us eastward. The massive tower of Coningsby rises far above the trees of the rectory precincts, themselves of a considerable height. Looking along the canal, the eye rests upon a very Dutch-like scene; the sleepy waters of the so-called “Navigation” fringed by tall
elms growing on its southern margin, and on its northern by decaying willows, studding the meadows, which are richly verdant from the damp atmosphere which it engenders; a slowly-crawling barge or two might formerly have been seen, with horse and driver on the towing path; but they are now things of the past. The canal, on its opening in 1801, was expected to be a mine of wealth to the shareholder’s, but, having been ruined by the railway, it is now disused; in parts silted up and only a bed of water plants; in other parts its banks have given way, and the bed is dry. Its only present utility is to add picturesqueness to a scene of still life. Following the towing path westward, with the straggling street of Tattershall on the other side of the water, we reach what is called a “staunch,” a weir, over which the surplus carnal water discharges itself into what was the original channel of the river Bain, [228] which, between Horncastle and here, has been more than once utilised to replenish the canal. Not far off, down this small stream, are some favourite haunts of the speckled trout; and beneath overhanging willows fine chub may be seen poising themselves in the water sleepily. We now leave the towing path and enter the main street, with church and castle close at hand to our left, but first we will go a hundred yards to the right, and make for the Marketplace. By the gift of “a well-trained hawk,” Robert Fitz-Eudo, in 1201, obtained from King John a charter for holding a weekly market; and the shaft and broad base of the market cross, bearing the arms of Cromwell, Tateshall, and D’Eyncourt, with a modern substitute for the cross on the top, still exists. An old brick building, in a yard on the south side of the Market-place, now used for malting, is traditionally said to have been the original, and smaller, church, before the present one was erected in the 15th century.
As prefatory to our examination of both castle and church, we give here a brief notice of the owners of this barony, and the founder of both these erections. Among the Norman knights who accompanied the Conqueror in his great venture against Harold for the throne of England,—
and we can hardly help reflecting on the vast deviation in the stream of English history which would have followed if that “bow drawn at a venture” had not sent a shaft through the eye and brain of Harold at Hastings,—there were, as Camden tells us, [229a] two sworn brothers in arms, Eudo and Pinso, to whom William, as the reward of their prowess, assigned certain territories, to be held by them in common, as they had themselves made common cause in has service. They subsequently divided these possessions, and the Barony of Tattershall, with Tattershall Thorpe and other appendages,—among them two-thirds of Woodhall,—fell to the share of Eudo. He was succeeded, in due course, by his son, Hugh Fitz-Eudo, surnamed Brito, or, the Breton; who, in 1139 founded a monastery for Cistercian monks at Kirkstead. The male line of this family continued for some eight generations. His grandson Philip died, when sheriff of the county, in 1200; his great grandson Robert married, first, Lady Mabel, eldest sister and co-heir of Hugh de Albini, [229b] 5th Earl of Sussex and Arundel, represented now by the Dukes of Norfolk (Earls of Arundel), hereditary Earl-Marshals and Chief Butlers of England; and, secondly, a daughter of John de Grey. This Robert obtained, in 1231, permission from Hen. III. to rebuild the family residence of stone. As to this permission, it may be observed that castle-building had been carried on so extensively in the reign of Stephen, and the powerful barons, backed by their fortified residences, had proved themselves so formidable, that it was deemed politic to prevent further erections of this kind, except with the Royal licence. [229c] This would be the first substantially-fortified structure at this place, but of this building there is not now left one stone upon another; views, however, of the castle, drawn by Buck, in 1727, shew that there were then remaining