Part 1 (2/2)

Alone in a Pilgrim cell! What thoughts the situation kindles; how eagerly the imagination shapes and clothes them; what scenes this mouldy atmosphere unfolds. The very solitude is eloquent with pious reminiscence; the void is filled again, peopled with those spectres of an imperishable past; their prayers and praise fall on the listening ear, a soft appeal for grace and strength, the lulling notes of a rough psalmody; then answering dreams and visions of the night.

THE AUTHOR.

1911.

I

OLD WORLD HOMES AND PILGRIM SHRINES

THE ROMANTIC STORY _of the_ MAYFLOWER PILGRIMS

I

OLD WORLD HOMES AND PILGRIM SHRINES

_View each well-known scene: Think what is now and what hath been._--SCOTT.

Lincolns.h.i.+re stands pre-eminent among the English s.h.i.+res for inspiriting records of trials borne and conflicts waged for conscience' sake. The whole country, from the lazy Trent to the booming eastern sea, teems moreover with religious interest. To read what happened between the births of two famous Lincolns.h.i.+re men--Archbishop Langton in the twelfth century; and Methodist John Wesley in the seventeenth--is like reading the history of English nonconformity. The age of miracles was long since past; yet Stephen Langton, Primate of England and Cardinal of Rome, was a champion of the national liberties. He aided, nay instigated, the wresting of Magna Charta from King John. That was not the result of his education; 'twas the Lincolns.h.i.+re blood in his veins. For the outrage on the Romish traditions the Archbishop was suspended by the Pope.

Probably he would have been hanged if they could have got at him.

But we can go back farther even than Langton's time. Not many miles from Gainsborough is the Danish settlement of Torksey, rich in ecclesiastical lore. Here Paulinus baptised the Lindissians on the sandy sh.o.r.e of the Trent, in the presence of Edwin, King of Northumbria. Hereabout, they say, King Alfred the Great was married to the daughter of Etheldred, and the old wives of Gainsborough used to recite tales of Wickliffe hiding on the spot where once stood the dwelling-place of Sweyn and of Canute.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Photograph by Brocklehurst, Gainsborough_

A BIT OF OLD GAINESBOROUGH]

Lincolns.h.i.+re has always had the courage to bear religious stress, and strange things are read of it. It was near Louth that the insurrection known as ”The Pilgrimage of Grace” began. Eighty-five years before the sailing of the Mayflower, and thirty years before William Brewster was born, the ecclesiastical commissioners for the suppression of monasteries (which were plentiful in Lincolns.h.i.+re) went down to hold a visitation at Louth. But the excursion was not to their pleasure. As one of them rode into the town he heard the alarm bell pealing from the tower, and then he saw people swarming into the streets carrying bills and staves, ”the stir and noise arising hideous.” He fled into the church for sanctuary, but they hauled him out, and with a sword at his breast bade him swear to be true to the Commonwealth. He swore. That was the Examiner. When the Registrar came on the scene he was with scant ceremony dragged to the market cross, where his commission was read in derision and then torn up, and he barely escaped with his life. For the same cause there were risings at Caistor and Horncastle--two of the demurest of modern towns. The Bishop's Chancellor was murdered in the streets of Horncastle and the body stripped and the garments torn to rags; and at Lincoln the episcopal palace was plundered and partially demolished.

But Lincolns.h.i.+re need rest no fame upon such merits as these. Greater honour belongs to the county, for it was Lincolns.h.i.+re that made the most important of all contributions to the building of America when it sent forth the Pilgrim Fathers, and afterwards the Puritan leaders, who met for conference in the eventful days of the movement in Boston town, in Sempringham manor house, or in Tattershall Castle, to lay the foundations of the Ma.s.sachusetts settlements. And, as Doyle in his ”English in America,” truly says, ”In romance of circ.u.mstance and the charm of personal heroism the story of the Pilgrim Fathers is pre-eminent. They were the pioneers who made it easy for the rest of the host to follow.” Their colony was the germ of the New England States.

Amid the quiet pastures threaded by the Ryton stream, where the counties of York and Lincoln and Nottingham meet, are two small villages, the homes of the only Pilgrim Fathers satisfactorily traced to English birthplaces. A simple, pathetic interest clings to these secluded spots.

At Scrooby is the manor house wherein William Brewster, the great heart of the pilgrimage and foremost planter of New Plymouth, was born.

Archbishops of York had found a home here for centuries; Wolsey, at the close of his strangely checkered career, lodged there and planted a mulberry tree in the garden; Bishop Bonner dated a letter thence to Thomas Cromwell. And when William Brewster became Elder Brewster, pensive Puritans often gathered there to wors.h.i.+p, ”and with great love he entertained them when they came, making provision for them to his great charge.” His condition was prosperous and he could well afford to do it. A Cambridge man, Brewster early took his degree at Peterhouse; he next saw service at Court, and accompanied Secretary Davison to the Netherlands; afterwards succeeding his father and grandfather as post on the great North Road at Scrooby, a responsible and well-paid office, which he filled for nearly twenty years.

The parish church, ”not big, but very well builded,” as Leland said; the quaint old vicarage; the parish pound, and all that remains of the parish stocks: these stand witness to the antiquity of Scrooby. A little railway station and rus.h.i.+ng Northern expresses are almost the only signs of twentieth century activity.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Photograph by Welchman Bros., Retford_

THE OLD MANOR HOUSE, SCROOBY, WHERE WILLIAM BREWSTER WAS BORN]

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Photograph by Welchman Bros., Retford_

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