But besides the churches which accompany earthworks and megaliths, we possess a large number of churches which stand like sentinels on isolated hills, and these require separate study. Here again, no single theory will serve to account for the choice of site. The facts are familiar to those who have travelled through the more elevated parts of the country. But it is not alone on rugged hills that we find the Christian outposts; even on the gentle downlands the lonely church may be seen dominating the landscape. In the South-East of England, the hill parishes often have their churches mounted on the highest ground. Among the Surrey churches, that of Caterham stands 600 feet above sea-level; Chaldon and Coulsdon, 500 feet; Merstham, 400 feet[268]. Taking Sussex, we find Pyecombe church at an elevation of 400 feet; Falmer and Plumpton, 250 feet; and Street (Streat), 200 feet. Brook church, in the Isle of Wight, is built on a conspicuous natural hillock. Kent supplies us with excellent examples at Down, Cudham, and several other villages. These instances are sufficient—the list could be extensively enlarged, if necessary.
Fig. 23. Tower of Bishopstone church (Early Norman), near Seaford, Sussex. A typical semi-defensive tower of South-Eastern England.
The first comment on such a catalogue concerns the interpretation of the figures. Obviously, it is the height of the church relatively to the village or valley which is of importance, not the actual elevation above the sea. For example, although the Sussex village of Bishopstone lies in a chalk coombe, the church ([Fig. 23]) is built on a hillock which overlooks the dwellings of the inhabitants. Again, with respect to villages situated on the plain, the church frequently occupies the highest ground. Various causes may have been at work to influence the selection of such spots. Here, there were difficulties with the feudal lord ([p. 17] supra); there, the building was placed centrally so as to serve numerous outlying townships; yonder, the church stands prominently on the hill-top because a hamlet had arisen there before the church was thought of.
When all these deductions have been made, there remain very many churches unaccounted for. These have been raised, after prolonged labour and at great expense, on some inconvenient hill, up which the worshippers must struggle breathlessly Sunday by Sunday. Standing by one of these churches, the observer is mastered by the conviction that he is placed on an ancient vantage ground. Range of outlook, and effective strength of position, must have been the fundamental ideas in the minds of those who chose the site. Throw aside this conception, and all is contrariety. The modern architect, unaided by the student of folk-lore and folk-custom, is entirely at a loss when asked to explain such apparent folly on the part of the designers.
We have before noticed ([p. 17] supra) how the annals of folk-lore are crowded with stories respecting these hill-top churches. The tales vary a little in detail, but the main theme is the same. Devils, or witches, or fairies, were in league against men, and so soon as the builders began their work, unseen hands removed the stones by night and laid them elsewhere, the church being finally set up only after a severe and lengthened contest. A variant of the superstition is met with in Scotland and Brittany, where churches are reported to have been reared in a single night by the fairies[269]. Just noting, as we pass, that the legends do not attempt to tell why men were so anxious to have their churches in lofty positions, let us glance at some of these bewitched buildings.
One of the examples best known to the writer is that of Churchdown, in Gloucestershire. The church stands on a Liassic hill of pyramidal outline, 500 feet above the sea-level. To climb the steep slope from the village below is an arduous task. The devil-theory still thrives vigorously in the neighbourhood, and the visitor will soon hear the account of the nightly removal of the stones by the spirit of evil. It chances that the local pronunciation of Churchdown is “Chōsen,” and this has suggested to the otherwise serious countryfolk a weak pun. Not only, they say, was the spot deliberately “chosen,” but the “chosen people” of the Prayer-Book response refers specifically to the favoured inhabitants of the village. The traveller cannot escape—
“Full of their theme, they spurned all idle art,
And the plain tale was trusted to the heart.”
Breedon church, in Leicestershire, is on a hill which similarly overlooks the village clustered at the foot. For pedestrians, the ascent has been made easier by cutting steps in the pathway, but carriages have to take a circuitous route to reach the church[270]. Other churches concerning which a contest was waged between Christian masons and the powers of darkness are St Chad’s, Rochdale, and Capel Garmon, in Denbighshire. In the second of these cases, the church was to have been erected on a hill, contiguous to an ancient spring, but the stones were repeatedly carried to a lower position[271]. This detail respecting the spring is not without significance, as was shown in the last chapter. Another illuminative Welsh example comes from Llanllechid, near Bangor. Here the fairies, or spirits, bore away the stones from a field called Caer Capel, and actually selected a situation—so the legend runs—more convenient than the first[272]. Both Caer Capel and Llanllechid are suggestive names, the latter gives a hint of a church built on the site of megaliths. At Wendover, in Buckinghamshire, the builders were thwarted by malevolent witches: at Hanchurch and Walsall, in Staffordshire, the trouble was caused by mischievous fairies. Each locality has its own bit of colour tinging the testimony, but to rehearse all the variations would be tedious. The number of these solitary hill-top churches was once probably much greater than at present. In some instances the buildings have been demolished; in others, modern dwellings have sprung up around the church and have masked its isolated position. Indeed, this shifting of the population is a factor which must never be left out of sight.