Yet one more remembrance of the Willoughbies and of the same house as the Lords Willoughby de Broke, waits notice, and our little chronicle concerning them is concluded. In Southleigh churchyard in east Devon, close to the chancel end of the church is a high-tomb, erected evidently to a person of some position; on the end panel is incised the grand achievement of Willoughby de Eresby, as on the tomb at Callington, and with the crescent for difference, shewing that he was of the same descent. The form of the letters in the inscription is of an extraordinary uncouth kind, and tell us
HERE LIETH THE BODY OF HENRY WILLOUGHBY
WHO DYED THE 28 DAY OF SEPTR. 1616.
but we have been hitherto unable satisfactorily to place him in the Willoughby pedigree; the following however may be added.
Sir William Willoughby, second son of Sir John Willoughby of Broke, and brother to Robert, Lord Willoughby de Broke, was of Toners-Piddle near Bere-Regis, Dorset, and by his will dated 28 November, 1512, proved 13 February, 1512-13, ordered his body to be buried in the church of St. John the Baptist at Bere-Regis. He endowed a Chantry at Edington in Wilts, and gave to the Abbey of Milton in Dorset fifty marks. Nicholas Willoughby his son was also of Toners-Piddle, where, says Hutchins, "he held this manor and advowson, and four hundred acres of (plough) land, two hundred of mead, three hundred of wood, and two thousand of furze and heath, there and in Snelling and Chilborough, of Lewis Mordant as of his manor of Duntish, in free socage and by fealty." In 1546 Robina his widow instituted John Brikill to the rectory. By his will dated 15 May, 1542, he ordered his body to be buried in the church of Bere-Regis, as did also Leonard Willoughby his son. "At the upper end of the north aisle," Hutchins remarks, "are two altar tombs of grey marble, but the brass plates, effigies, escutcheons, and inscriptions gone; perhaps they belong to the family of the Willoughbies." In 1653 Sir Robert Willoughby and Elizabeth his wife sold the capital mansion-house, farm, and advowson of Toners-Piddle to Robert Lewen. Toners-Piddle church "was re-built in 1759, the little aisle of the Willoughbies was not re-erected. There were no inscriptions in it, that family generally burying at Bere." Christopher Willoughby, another son of Sir William, married Isabel daughter of Nicholas Weeks of Dodington, Gloucester, and he had a son named Henry, who married Jane daughter of Dauntsey of Lavington, Wilts.
Richard Willoughby, third son of Sir John Willoughby of Broke, was of Silton, Dorset, having married Isabel daughter of John Bedyke of that place, who brought the manor to her husband. He died 1523, she 1524, and both by their wills ordered their bodies to be buried in the church of St. Nicholas there. They left several descendants.
Henry Willoughby's tomb at Southleigh has been carefully and substantially repaired by a representative of the family.
Back to Beer-Ferrers again our thoughts return, and recall the memory of our last visit to the antient home, successively of Ferrers, Champernowne, and Willoughby, names all now extinct, that had relationship there. Evening is creeping on, as we leave the little jetty and find ourselves afloat, slowly making way out into the Tamar proper. How many a story speaks to us of the past, from its dim cliffy banks, that history and tradition have preserved, how many more, silent and forgotten, are lost for ever. Such the doom and fate of human life, little episodes on the stream of time, successive and evanescent as the wavelets that rise and die against the bosom of our little craft. Of Willoughby de Broke, a larger remembrance remains, but it only points in a fuller sense to an often recurring issue of human life, graphically summed up concerning them by the quaint old historian Westcote,—"but this family fading in his very blossom, soon came to his period."
TAMAR'S FLOW.
O Tamar's flow! lowly I bend mine ear,
And listen to thy lisp that greets the shore,
Bearing Tradition's burthen soft and clear,
From the dim portals of the never more;—
Two voices spell me from thy mingled tide,
One, mighty ocean's whisper, murmurous, deep,
Telling of ventures glorious, that hide
Within its billowy bosom rocked in sleep;—
The other, rippling from thy crystal fount,
A tinkle sweet of elves, and fays, and flowers,
Legends borne down from woodland, vale, and mount,
Departed homes, and haunted shrines and towers;—
Flow on,—until this trancèd ear shall be,
But one more memory that is merged in thee!
