Records of Woodhall Spa and Neighbourhood Part 12

The south inscription is, "To the memorie of Thomas Vyner Esqr, second sonne of Sr Thomas Vyner, Knt. & Baronet, by Dame Honour, daughter of George Humble Esqr, of this Parish, His second wife, this monument was erected, at the charge of Sr Robert Vyner, Knt and Baronet, sole executor of his last will and Testament. Ano. Dni. 1673."

The founder of the family of Vyner was Sir Robert, a wealthy London merchant, who, like his father before him, lent money to ruined Royalists, doubtless at a rate of interest which well repaid him. He was _fond of his sovereign_, in more senses than one, as is shewn by the following anecdote given in the "Spectator," No. 462:-When Sir Robert Vyner was Lord Mayor, in 1675, he entertained Charles II. in the Guild-hall; and this he did with so profuse hospitality, and withal repeatedly toasting the royal family, that he soon began to treat his sovereign with a familiarity unduly loving. The king understood very well how to extricate himself from such a difficulty, and with a hint to the company to avoid ceremony, he stole away and made for his coach, standing in the Guild-hall yard. But Sir Robert liked his Majesty's company so well that he pursued him, and catching the king by the hand, he cried out, with a round oath, "Sire, you shall stay and take t' other bottle." Charles, recognising the inevitable, put a good face on the matter, and, looking at him kindly, with a graceful air repeated this line of the old song,

"He that's drunk is as great as a king."

He immediately returned and complied with the invitation. {173}

In the park at Gautby there stood for many years an equestrian statue, of which the history is somewhat ludicrous. It pa.s.sed for a statue of Charles II. Sir Robert Vyner, the hero of the above anecdote, presented it to the City of London, in 1675; and it was placed in the Stocks Market, in honour of his Majesty. The royal horseman bestrides a warlike steed, which is trampling under foot the figure of a turbanned Turk.

This seems hardly an appropriate mode of representing a sovereign, who, so far from thirsting for deeds of war, could drink wine and play cards when the Dutch were burning our shipping in the Thames close by. The Stocks Market was eventually demolished, when the statue was transferred to Gautby Park, the Lincolnshire seat of the donor, whence it has in late years been transferred to the Yorkshire seat of the Vyners-Newby Park, near Ripon. It had been originally intended to represent John Sobieski, King of Poland, who was regarded as the saviour of Europe from the Mussulman power; and for him, the Turk trampled under foot was a fitting emblem. When the statue was taken down in 1738, the following satiric lines were circulated and sung in the streets:-

"The last dying speech and confession of the Horse at Stock's Market.

Ye whimsical people of London's fair town Who one day put up, what the next day pull down; Full sixty-one years, have I stood in this place, And never, till now, met with any disgrace!

What affront to crowned heads could you offer more bare, Than to pull down a king to make room for a mayor?

The great Sobieski, on horse with long tail, I first represented, when set up for sale; A Turk, as you see, was placed under my feet, To prove o'er the Sultan my conquest compleat.

Next, when against monarchy all were combined, I, for your Protector, old Noll, was designed.

When the King was restored, you then, in a trice, Called me Charly the Second; and, by way of device, Said the old whiskered Turk had Oliver's face, Though you know to be conquered he ne'er had the disgrace.

Three such persons as these on one horse to ride, A Hero, Usurper, and King, all astride:- Such honours were mine; though now forced to retire, Perhaps my next change may be still something higher, From a fruitwoman's market, I may leap to a spire.

As the market is moved, I am forced to retreat; I could stay there no longer, with nothing to eat.

Now the herbs and the greens are all carried away, I must go unto those who will find me in hay."

So the old horse, after serving varied purposes, and more than one "flitting," finds literally "a green old age" in his "retreat" in the great horse county; a standing memorial, in stone, of a Lord Mayor's "zeal" _not_ "tempered with knowledge." But his memory is not allowed to perish, for in the neighbouring training stables a favourite name among the fleet racers is Sobieski.

A pleasant walk of less than a mile over meadows, or "Ings," brings us to the village of Minting, the last syllable of its name, possibly, being derived from the said "Ings." Here, as has been already mentioned, formerly existed a Priory of Benedictine monks, a "cell" or offshoot of the Gallic monastery of St. Benedict super Loira, and founded in 1129 by Ranulph de Meschines, Earl of Chester. No buildings remain above-ground, but they must have been very extensive, as mound and hollow and stew pond cover an area of four or five acres. The benefice is in the gift of St.

John's College, Cambridge. The church, previously a very poor structure, was restored by the Vicar, the Rev. F. Bashforth, in 1863, at a cost of over 800, the late Mr. Ewan Christian being the architect. The font is modern, but handsome, in form hexagonal. There is a north aisle with three bays and Norman arches. Three windows in the north wall and two in the south are debased. The east window is a good sample of the Perpendicular, and on the outside has figureheads of king and queen, as terminals of the moulding. A curious slab, carved on both sides, formerly lay loose in the porch, having been part of a churchyard cross.

At the restoration it was cut into two sections, and these were placed on the east wall of the nave, north and south of the chancel arch, thus shewing the two carved surfaces. The device on the northern one is a rude representation of the Crucifixion; the Saviour's legs are crossed, and a figure stands on either side, probably St. John and the Virgin.

Below is a rudely-cut foliated pattern. The design of the slab on the south, formerly the back, is also rude foliation. On the north wall of the chancel there is an oval bra.s.s tablet to the memory of Gulielmus Chapman, of which one is tempted to say that, unless the individual commemorated was an almost more than human embodiment of all the virtues, the author of the epitaph must have acted on the principle recommended by the poet Matthew Prior,-

Be to his virtues very kind, And to his faults a little blind.

It runs as follows:-"Gulielmus Chapman, Probus, Doctus, Lepidus, Facundus, Hic jacet. Pietate, Fidelitate, Benignitate, Modestia, Nulli Secundus, Hanc Vicariam bis 20 et octo annos tenuit. Clarus in Umbra, Rara in senectute Emicuit, Die 14 Aprilis decessit, Anno aetat. 82, Anno Dom. 1722."

The villagers of this parish, 100 years ago, are said to have exercised the art of weaving on a considerable scale, and one of the writer's parishioners states that his grandmother lived there and had a hand-loom.

A walk of less than two miles, chiefly across the fields, brings us to Wispington. We have already mentioned {175} the presence here of moats, mounds, and portions of a former old mansion of the Phillips family, utilized in existing farm buildings. We have only now to notice the church, which does not call for much remark. It was rebuilt on the site, and partly of the materials, of the previously-existing church, in 1863, at a cost of 1,500, by the Rev. C. P. Terrott, late vicar, and one of our greatest local antiquaries. He himself designed the font and stone pulpit, and also executed the devices which adorned them, representing groups of different animals named in the Bible. The tower is supported on b.u.t.tresses, on a principle adopted from the church of Old Woodhall, which is peculiar, but simple and effective. In the vestry there is a slab, in the floor, of a former rector, John Hetherset, holding a chalice with hands in many-b.u.t.toned gloves. Built into the vestry wall are the capitals of two small Norman pillars, which were dug up near the church, and doubtless formed part of the older Norman building. Propped up against the vestry wall is a Jacobean altar-stone, formerly on the Communion table, one of the very few in England. The two mediaeval bells are dedicated to the Virgin Mary. The east window has modern coloured gla.s.s, the subject being the crucifixion, and scenes in the life of our Saviour. In the north wall of the nave is a window of coloured gla.s.s, commorative of the late vicar, C. P. Terrot; and in the south wall of the chancel is another, commemorating his son, Capt. Charles Terrott; in the south nave wall, near the font, is a bra.s.s tablet, with the Tyrwhitt arms, erected by the late Rev. Beauchamp St. John Tyrwhitt, vicar, in memory of his brother Robert. The west window is of coloured gla.s.s, the subject being St. Margaret and St. John the Baptist.

Edlington Church (St. Helen's)-the village being a very scattered one, with scarcely two houses contiguous-stands to the east, some two miles from Wispington. It was rebuilt, except the lower part of the tower, in 185960. The pulpit, reading desk, lectern, and sittings are all of oak, modern and plain, but substantial. There are three bells. Edlington park is nicely wooded with some good timber, though much of it has been felled of late years. There was formerly a good residence on the northern rising ground, but it was pulled down "in the forties" by the then owner, J. Ha.s.sard Short, Esq., and only the kitchen gardens and fish ponds remain. In a field near at hand there were found, several years ago, a number of heaps of oxbones, each heap also containing an ancient urn, supposed to have been connected with Roman sacrifices; but, as Dr.

Oliver {176} derives the name Edlington from Eiddileg, a mystic character in the Bardic mythology, these may be the remnants of some other heathen superst.i.tion.

A walk across the park and over a couple of fields southward brings us to the village of Thimbleby, which consists of a "street" of small cottages and two or three larger dwelling-houses. There is here an old manor, called "Hall-garth," with an interesting old house with gables, thatched roof, some panelled rooms, a large fish pond, an old-time garden with yew hedges fantastically trimmed, and a fine old tree or two. In a field called "the Park," at the east end of the parish, are some fine trees, remnants of a former avenue. The ancient well, said to be Roman, in the rectory grounds, has already been mentioned. The church was re-fashioned in 1879, and an old, nondescript, flat-ceiled structure was converted into a substantial and well-designed edifice of Early Decorated style, with clock-tower and good clock, which gives out its notes of time to the neighbourhood.

We are now within a mile of Horncastle; somewhat weary after our long explorations, let us wend our way on to the old town, and seek rest and refreshment at the well-appointed and almost historic hostel which is ready to welcome us beneath "ye Signe of ye Bull."

CHAPTER X.

Re-invigorated, after the prolonged explorations of the last chapter, by a much-needed rest at the hostel of "The Bull," we now prepare for our final round of visitation among the still remaining objects of interest in the neighbourhood. And first we may seek enlightenment as to the meaning of "the sign" of our inn, for such signs are ofttimes significant. For this we have not far to go. Looking out of the window of the snug little parlour we are occupying, we see before us what an Irishman might call a triangular square-a sort of "Trivium," where three ways meet, and where men not seldom congregate for trivial converse, although on market days it is the scene of busy barter, and at mart, or fair, transactions in horse, and other, flesh are negotiated with dealers of many kindreds, peoples, and tongues; but more of this anon. On the far side of this open s.p.a.ce, "the Red Lion" bravely faces us, lashing its tail in rivalry. In the centre we notice a large lamppost (recently erected by the Urban Council; in 1897). At this spot, well within living memory, was to be seen a large iron ring, securely embedded in a stone in the pavement, of goodly dimensions. This was "the Bull King," and the open s.p.a.ce still perpetuates the name. Here the ancient sport of bull-baiting was practised annually for the brutal, but thoughtless, delectation of the people of town and country side. {178} I find a note that on April 21, 1887, I conversed with an old woman, and, as a link with what is pa.s.sed, never to return, I may here give her name,-Judith Thornley, daughter of W. Elvin, farmer, of Baumber,-and then 84 years of age, who remembered the Bull ring, as I also do, and who, as a child, raised on her father's shoulders to see over the crowd, witnessed more than one bull-baiting. On one such occasion she saw a woman gored by the bull, its horns piercing her bowels, although it was secured by the nose to the ring, the crowd being so great that she was thrust within the dangerous area by those pressing upon her from behind. This, she reckoned, would be about the year 1809 or 1810. As Mr. Weir, in his "History of Horncastle," dated 1820, makes no reference to this practice, we may a.s.sume that the old lady was about right in her calculation.

Nearly opposite our hostel may be noticed, at the corner, a saddler's shop. This was established in the year 1760, and, situated as the shop is in the centre of the great fair, Messrs. H. and W. Sharp receive orders for various articles, in connection with horseflesh, from foreign as well as English customers. Conversing with the head of this firm at the time of this writing, I found that within the last few months they had received commissions not only from various parts of England, Wales, Scotland and Ireland, but from Belgium, Norway, France and Germany; some handsome harness, which I recently saw being made by them, was for Berlin. Opposite the entrance to the Bull is a smaller inn, the "King's Head," which is thatched; one hundred years ago nearly every house in the town was thatched, and by the terms of the Will by which this particular inn was devised to the present owner, it is required that it should always remain thatched. This, surely, is a proviso which might be legitimately ignored; and, doubtless, in a few years' time, thatching will be a lost art. The street to the right, running north, and now named North Street, was formerly called "The Mill-stones," from two old abandoned millstones which lay near the northern end of it. Half-way up this street, a back street branching off to the left is called "Conging Street," and formerly near it was a well named "Conging Well." This term is derived from the old Norman-French _conge_, a permission, or licence; from very early times the lord of the manor levied a toll on all who wished to traffic at the great fairs which were established by ancient charters of the Sovereign. There formerly stood, near the present Dispensary, an old house called the "Conging House," where these tolls were paid for the licence to trade. {179}

A curious custom which formerly prevailed in the town at the time of the great fairs, and which continued to later than the middle of the 19th century, was the opening of what were termed "Bough-houses," for the entertainment of visitors. Horncastle has still an unusually large number of licensed public-houses, and not many years ago had nearly twice the number, many of them with extensive stabling, for the accommodation of man and beast, at the fairs for which it is famous; but, beyond these, it was a custom, from time immemorial, that any private house could sell beer without a licence, if a bough, or bush, was hung out at the door.

{180} This, no doubt, gave rise to the old saying, "good wine needs no bush," _i.e._, the quarters where it was sold would need no bough or bush hung out to advertise its merits, as they would be a matter of common bruit. This, as was to be expected, was a privilege liable to be abused, and, only to give one instance, a couple living in the town and owning a name not unknown at Woodhall Spa, are said to have ordered for themselves a goodly barrel of beer to be ready for the fair, but, the barrel having been delivered two or three days before the fair commenced, they had themselves tried its merits so frequently, that when the day arrived there was none left to sell, and the barrel was unpaid for, with no means received to pay for it, while they themselves were no better for the transaction.

On "the Millstones," about half-way up the street, a friend of the writer witnessed, in the forties, a man selling his wife by auction, {181} who stood on the top of a barrel, with a halter round her neck, and a crowd collected round, examining her merits, as might not long ago have been seen in a slave market in Egypt. She was sold for 30, in the street, opposite a small inn then called "The Horse and Jocky," and kept by a man commonly called Banty Marshall. I am not aware that it is more than a coincidence, that, although the inn has now a different name, a device in the window represents a cat on a barrel. The parish stocks stood at the top of this street, where the Court House now stands; they were last used in 1859, and were only removed on its erection in 1865. The present writer can remember seeing persons confined in the stocks; as also in a neighbouring village, where the parish clerk, after his return from the Sat.u.r.day market, not uncommonly was put in the stocks, to fit him for his Sunday duties.

In connection with the fairs, deeds of violence were not unknown. At a house on the north side of the Market-place, which was formerly the "Queen's Head" inn, but is now occupied by a veterinary surgeon, while alterations were being made, two skeletons were found under the bricks of the kitchen floor. The men had doubtless been murdered for their money at fair-time, and the bodies placed there for concealment. Of the cheating practised at the fairs I can give a sample or two. It is recorded, I believe, that the late Dr. Dealtry, Archdeacon of Calcutta, preaching on the different ideas of honesty or fraud, gave point to his argument by a humorous ill.u.s.tration. "For instance," he said, "my worthy friend, who occupies the reading desk beneath me, would see no dishonesty in misrepresenting the qualities of a horse he wished to sell, even to his dearest friend." And honesty has by no means always been deemed the best policy in the streets of Horncastle. Edmund Yates, in his personal "Recollections," relates that he was dining with the Lord Chief Justice, Sir Alexander c.o.c.kburn, when his host told the following story:-A man saw a handsome-looking horse at Horncastle Fair, and was astonished at the low price asked for it. After some chaffering, he bought it, taking it without a warranty. Having paid his money, he gave an extra five shillings to the groom, and asked what was the matter with the horse that he was sold so cheap. After some hesitation, the man said that the horse was a perfect animal, but for two faults. "Two faults," said the buyer, "then tell me one of them." "One," said the groom, "is, that when you turn him out, in a field, he is very hard to catch." "That," said the buyer, "does not matter to me, as I never turn my horses out. Now for the other fault." "The other," said the groom, scratching his head and looking sly, "the other is, that when you've caught him he's not worth a rap."

Another story is as follows:-Some yeans ago a Lincolnshire clergyman, advanced in years, had an old horse which had run in his antiquated carriage from being four years old, till he was fourteen or fifteen. He would still have satisfied his master, but that he acquired a very bad habit, to which, like other old animals not four-legged, he obstinately adhered. He would jump over the d.y.k.e (the locality being in the marshes) into a neighbour's field. The said neighbour complained of this so often that the pastor decided to sell. The old coachman took the horse to Horncastle Fair and sold him for 26. The old gentleman and his coachman then looked about the fair for another that would suit them. They presently saw a horse of the same size and style as the old favourite just sold, but with shorter mane and tail, and lacking the star on the forehead which marked the old horse. They asked, the price, and were told it was 40. After much haggling the horse was bought for 35, and his reverence drove home with the new purchase. After tea his wife said, "Well, so you have not sold?" "Oh, yes," he replied, "we have, and have got a younger and more spirited animal, very like the old sinner, but with shorter mane and tail, and no star on his forehead." "Well," said the wife, "I think you were taken in, for the new horse is already, like the old one, grazing in neighbour Brown's field"; and there, sure enough, he was. The dealer had docked the tail, trimmed the mane, and dyed the white star brown; and had "gingered" the old horse till he played up like a colt. His reverence, in short, had been "sold," and the old sinner had been returned on his hands with the loss of 10.

My third story relates to a former Vicar of Horncastle, Dr. Loddington, who died in 1724, but whose name survives on one of the church bells, cast during his inc.u.mbency.

We are told, on authority, {183} that at one time all kinds of traffic went on within St. Paul's Cathedral, and its precincts, in London. It was the common lounge of gallants and their female friends; and even a horse might be bought there; and such a transaction actually did take place in St. Mary's Church, Horncastle. The Vicar had a chestnut mare which he wished to sell. Two dealers at the fair bid for her up to 35, which he refused to take. Sitting together at breakfast on the Sunday morning at their inn, Brown said to Robinson, "I bet you a bottle of wine I buy that mare of the Vicar's." "Done," said Robinson. They both went to church, which was more than many dealers do nowadays. Brown took his seat just under the pulpit. Robinson, not knowing this, sat near the porch, intending to intercept the Vicar as he went out. The sermon ended, Brown waited till the Vicar descended from the pulpit; as he reached the bottom step of the stairs, Brown went to him and said, "That was a good sermon, but your reverence has not yet sold that mare; the fair is over, and I am leaving in the afternoon. Won't you take the 35?

You'll never get a better bid." The Vicar thought for a moment, and then whispered, "You may have her." He went out, was met in the porch by Robinson, who found that he was too late, and owed Brown a bottle of wine; his only consolation was that he resolved himself to drink the better half of it.

At these fairs good bargains may be made by one who has an eye to the points of a horse, and can use his opportunities. The writer knew a curate in the south-west of Lincolnshire, whose stipend was 50 a year.

He came regularly every year, for many years, to the August fair. His first purchase was a young horse, for which be gave the whole of his year's stipend, 50. He kept it a year, and hunted it. I have ridden with him, when mounted on that horse, with the Belvoir hounds, and the next year he sold it for 300, a pretty good percentage on the original outlay. A cousin of the writer picked out a young horse from a number and gave 24 for it; he afterwards refused to take 300 for it, offered by "Lord Henry"; but he lent it to his lordship occasionally. Another, which he bought cheap, and for which he refused 400, broke its leg in jumping the river Bain, in a Horncastle steeplechase and had to be shot on the spot. Both these horses I have ridden to hounds, the one a bay, the other black.

Connected with the fairs is the so-called "Statutes," a day in May for hiring servants. It was formerly the one general holiday in the year, but now that the Bank Holidays have been established, the statute-day is dwindling in its proportions. Of old all the servant girls, and all the clodhoppers from the country, used to gather in the town dressed in galore fashion, crowding the Bull-ring. Anyone who wanted a servant, as an old farmer once told the writer was his invariable custom, used to walk into the crowd and hire the first la.s.s against whom he stumbled.

The "fasten-penny," a silver coin, was then given, and the bargain was then struck. Wild beast shows, and enormities such as lambs with two heads or a dozen legs, and other attractions, were provided, and the day ended with music and dancing at the different inns in the town; some of the proceedings having after-effects not desirable. At the present time, when there is more regard for our domestic servants and their characters, and cheap postage prevails, this mode of haphazard engagement has nearly died out, and the Statute will soon be a thing of the past. It was first enacted by Ed. III. in 1351; again by 13th Richard II., and, in later times, was held under "a precept" from the Chief Constable of the Division. To those who wish to read a humorous and graphic description of the doings on this day, in comparatively recent times, I would recommend the poem "Neddy and Sally; or, The Statute Day," by John Brown, "the Horncastle Laureate, {184} of which I can here give only the opening lines, which breathe of the spirit inspiring the occasion.

"c.u.m, Sall! It's time we started now, Yon's Farmer Hayc.o.c.k's la.s.ses reddy, An' maister says he'll milk the cow."

"He didn't say soa, did he, Neddy?"

"Yees! that he did; soa make thee haste; An' get thee sen made smart an' pritty; Wi' yaller ribbon round thee waist; The same as owd Squire Lowden's Kitty.

And I'll goa fetch my sister Bess; I'm sartin sewer she's up an' ready; c.u.m! gie's a buss! Thou can't do less."

Says Sally, "Noa, thou musn't, Neddy."

There have not been wanting, in this old town, some eccentric characters, whose doings have been peculiar, and have been traditionally preserved for the entertainment of a rising generation. Of these two or three may be recorded here, but for obvious reasons I avoid mentioning names. One individual, exulting in his strength, undertook, for a wager, some time in the thirties, to drag a dung cart from Lincoln to Horncastle, a distance of 21 miles, and successfully accomplished the feat in eight hours, but he is said to have suffered from haemorrhage for the rest of his days. Another man made a bet that he would start from Lincoln on horseback when the moon rose there, and would have his horse in his own stable at Horncastle before the moon had risen there. Lincoln being on a hill, the moon would be seen earlier there than at Horncastle, which lay in a hollow. As he galloped along he is said to have shouted, "Now me, now moon," as the chances seemed at intervals for or against the one or the other. He just, however, missed the success which he might have achieved, as he had to pull up, late in the evening, at the toll-bar on the Lincoln road, about a mile from Horncastle, the toll-bar keeper being in bed; and this slight delay caused his failure, for, as he opened his stable door, he saw the moon shining in a bucket of water which was standing ready for his steed. The writer is informed that one, if not both, of these individuals was considered to be a little "short" of the full modic.u.m of brains. Another person, still resident in the town, remembers the burning, in the street, of the effigies of Bayock and Demont, two of the witnesses in the trial of Queen Caroline, in 1820.

They were Italians. There were great rejoicings and illuminations, in London and throughout the country, on Her Majesty's acquittal; and this was the demonstration of Horncastrians. An old song was popular at the time, beginning thus:

False witnesses from Italy, they came to London town; And all they had against her was to keep her from the crown.

Wharrie, a shoemaker in the town, was inspired to preach a sermon in the Bull-ring, from a cart, denouncing the trial. This sermon was printed, and a copy was long in the possession of my informant.

A character of a higher type than those yet named, was the late proprietor and manager of "The Bull" hostel, at which we are now supposed to be staying, Mr. Clement James Caswell, a genial, generous, and cultivated gentleman. He came of an old and highly respectable stock located in the county of Herts., his father being for many years landlord of "The George," at Barnet, a stage on the Great North road, through which, in the old coaching days, scores of coaches pa.s.sed daily. He was a coach proprietor, and handled the ribbons himself. The son was educated at the Spalding Grammar School, and acquired antiquarian, tastes while yet a boy. After having held some important public offices in that town, and then managing some mills at Aswardby, he bought the Bull at Horncastle. Though the inn had previously held a high position, he still further raised its character; and his spare time was devoted to reading, and research of various kinds. He had a very valuable collection of coins, the result of many years of careful selection. His garden, just out of the town, had an observatory, furnished with telescope, books, and other appliances for amus.e.m.e.nt and relaxation. He supplied the ill.u.s.trations for a book ent.i.tled "In Tennyson Land," by J. c.u.ming Walters, published in 1890. He was a member of the Architectural Society of Lincolnshire, Notts. and Leicestershire; a member of the Spalding Gentlemen's Society, one of the oldest antiquarian societies in the kingdom; and he was continually corresponding, in various directions, on subjects of antiquarian interest. He had a valuable library of books bearing on these and kindred studies, and indicating the wide extent of his reading. Especially, perhaps, as a Tennysonian expert, he was consulted by almost everyone who has written on that subject, as in the case already named, and in Napier's "Homes and Haunts of Tennyson." It was a treat to get a quiet, genial hour with him, when he would run on with a stream of informing converse, but on few themes did he warm up with so much inspiration as that of the late Laureate, witness these lines of his own composition:-

SOMERSBY.