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“Sir! She’s sprung a leak!” The first mate dashed into the pirate Captain’s cabin, flushed and out of breath.
The Captain raised a scowling face. “Man the pumps then! You know what to do!”
“This is no ordinary leak, sir. She’s going fast!”
“Whad’ya mean, she’s goin’?” The Captain followed the words with a string of curses and then nearly bowled his mate over as he rushed topside. “All hands on deck! Man the pumps! Full force!” The next instant he was down in the hull with the mate beside him, pointing out the leak. The Captain’s face twisted in rage. “Who did that? That’s no leak. We’ve been scuttled! Who had the last watch?”
The mate shifted uneasily. Water poured in, soaking both men’s boots, but neither seemed to notice. At last he muttered, “Billy was at the tiller.”
“Billy?! That good for nothin’… Lazy – I’ll make him pay! Probably did it a purpose – wants us all ta drown!”
The mate was about to reply, but instead he ejaculated, “Good heavens! We’re sinking!” The words ended in a kind of scream. For the water was now rushing furiously in, threatening to sweep both off their feet.
“Shut your mouth!” the Captain spat, climbing topside again and ignoring his dripping garments.
At that moment the ship tilted violently, sending both men along with several other pirates into the scuttles. Billy fell too, slamming into the Captain.
“You! – You did this!” The Captain grabbed the unfortunate cabin boy by the neck.
Billy shuddered, turning terrified eyes to the Captain’s ferocious look.
“Well?! Answer me!”
With sudden boldness the boy spoke up. “I did do it.”
“Treason! Mutiny! You’ll pay for this!”
“Of course he will,” the mate grumbled. “We’re all goin’ to the bottom!”
“I’ll make sure Billy gets there first!” the Captain exclaimed, uttering a fearful oath.
Another lurch of the ship freed Billy from the Captain’s grasp for a second and he scrambled to his feet, desperately climbing toward the prow which was now pointing to the sky.
Cries and shouts resounded through the ship, which had now begun to sink in earnest. And yet for all their desperate plight, the pirates only quarreled and fought with each other, all eager to prolong their miserable lives by as many minutes as they could, even if it meant sending another to his death. The more reckless dove into the rum supply, determined to drown in drink for the last few minutes before they really drowned. Slowly the ship sank lower and lower, and now many of the pirates, forced to realize their plight, screamed in terror. Those who had sent so many to their deaths were unwilling to go themselves.
Above deck the Captain pulled himself aft by main force, practically tearing the boards, almost foaming at the mouth in his impotent rage. Billy clung to the bowsprit, unsure whether to face the Captain’s fury or spring overboard at once. He shuddered as he looked down into the water, and, opening his clasp knife, resolved to defend himself.
Ropes and bits of iron slid down the decks along with other miscellany. The Captain lost his hold – caught it again – and in desperation, pulled out his pistol.
Billy shuddered and tried to shrink into as small a target as possible.
The next instant a heavy sack smashed into the Captain’s legs and with a terrible cry he crashed headlong into the churning water.
And now the ship had almost completely sunk, and Billy was left alone. A sudden silence – an eerie silence – succeeded the fearful shouts. Billy climbed farther up the bowsprit until he was perched as high atop it as possible.
He had done it, and he thought his own life was a small price to pay for the blessing of ridding the sea of such a scourge. But other thoughts came to him in those moments that seemed like a life time as he straddled the rough timber, knife still in hand. After all, the quick, almost painless death to which he had sent his comrades seemed a poor repayment for their actions. They would have died, eventually, anyways – he had only hastened it by a year or two – and was that all? For all their villainy, for all their injustice, for having taken him, still a little child, and made him virtually their slave, dragging him through unspeakable horror? …hate surged through him, and he half cursed himself for taking such a poor and flavorless vengeance.
Then he thought of the deeds he himself had taken pleasure in doing, and loathed himself as heartily as any of his companions.
Was this all life had? Was there no real justice? The thought was intolerable to him. Far better to stand condemned, as he knew he would be, then to think that in the end, wrong would win.
But perhaps… perhaps… could mercy be found? Even for him?
The still, silent waters closed over the pirate ship, leaving no trace.
From “My encounters with the Barbarians blade”, by Lady Elina Greypepper.
We had been on the slave ship for several weeks. Lay in the creaking, damp filthy stinking hold surrounded by other poor wretches, both male and female, all of us chained and hungry.
The bid for freedom came suddenly. None of us had been in a mood the past few weeks for any kind of frivolity, and even my usual stock of witty repartee had dried up. Skarr sat, sometimes lay, morose and silent. I knew she, like most Northers, hated the sea and she had puked many times, not used to being forced to make ocean crossings sober. I did not normally approve of her sometime excessive drinking, but right now I could have murdered a tankard of ale myself to deaden the pain and the smell of sitting in that stinking filth. We were all fettered below decks, Skarr more so because she had bitten off the nose of the Captain, on being boarded in chains weeks earlier. It had happened early on in the day, the slaves on deck were having their heads shaved to prevent lice and tics taking hold and reducing our value. They pushed Skarr roughly down to the deck and one of the men pulled out a huge knife and grabbed a handful of Skarr’s unruly blonde mane. I thought at first she was going to sit and suffer it being done to her, but she suddeny rose up from the deck with a Norther roar, broke the neck of the man holding her and leapt for the captain. They had collapsed together, and eventually the barbarian was wrenched off him with the mans nose in her teeth. With a glint in her eye, she swallowed the nose tip, while the man swore and held the bleeding remains of his face. Then, they wrenched her down to the deck and began to beat her with their coshes. This was it, I thought, we had not even got out of the harbour and we would be killed. But they set a high price on the Barbarian and her apothecary apprentice companion, it seemed. Our enforced haircuts forgotten, we were thrown into the dark hold, with another girl, Kefira, we later found our she was called. The guards came in to us most days and gave Skarr a few lashes with the whip, or hit her with sticks, but she remained quiet and morose, slumped in the corner under a pile of piss stained rags. We were well fettered. A large heavy iron collar was locked about my neck, short chains welded to the collar fastened to more shackles that were locked about my wrists and ankles, restricting my movement and making a horrible clanking sound every time I shited position in the cramped hold. At least I had some arm movement and could feed myself, unlike Skarr. She, like all of us, was fitted with strong manacles locked around her ankles. But unlike the other girls, they had fixed Skarr into a thick heavy wooden yoke. Her neck was fastenened into the centre hole, and her wrists pinioned either side, immovable and inescapable. She grunted with the weight occasionally, or with the discomfort of having her arms fixed up in that position permanently, but other than that the Barbarian gave no sign of her discomfort. I attempted to feed her with my own limited movement, but she often refused to eat, and when she did, it was near impossible to feed her wearing the wooden pillory as she was, and most of the gruel I attempted to spoon feed her ended up smeared all over her face.
The day of the fight came as did any other, locked in the dark stinking hold. I think it was Onag who came in to deliver our slop. The last time I had looked, Skarr had been attempting to lie down under a bundle of rags I had thrown over her. Suddenly the rags moved with unbelievable speed, with a clank of chain coming from her ankles, and she barrelled sideways into the man, thrusting her locked yoke into the sailor’s neck just under his chin. He collapsed clutching his throat. I recognised that this was now our only chance, if we were subdued again, Skarr and I would be killed instantly. How did I get myself into these situations, I wondered?
“Prepare your witchery”, she said, looking at me with a smile.
Damn her to hell, I thought. She was actually enjoying this. Witchery, I wondered? What witchery? I’d killed a goblin with a curse my granny had taught me, this situation was very different, this was armed men. And we were three chained women, three now as we had been joined by Kefira.
I noticed that Skarr had made her way up the small steps, with difficulty due to her fetters and was slamming her yoke sideways into the locked hold door. I ran after her, as best I could, but I was not quick enough as, by now, she had battered the door down and slammed her way into two crewmen armed with cutlasses, thus knocking them over.
“Pivarr san Iruktask!” she shouted at the top of her voice. I wished she could have fought more quietly, so to make easier our progress to the decks, but she insisted on shouting obscenities as she fought.
As I followed in her wake, I noticed red weals appearing on Skarr’s wrists and neck as she used her yoke as a battering ram. I also noticed that she was still firmly locked into it, the thing hadn’t even cracked and it still held her fast. With my shackled feet I managed to kick one of the guards in the face as he attempted to pull Skarr’s ankle chain out from under her. Then I felt a fist slam into the side of my head and I was down. I watched through hazy blurred vision as a crewman got hold of Skarr’s ankle chain finally and yanked her to the floor with a crash.
Witchery. I did what Granny taught me, but it was difficult, my mind kept focussing on my metal restraints, my power unable to pass beyond the locks that held me. Then I was in another place, a place of peace, with Skarr, by a river, fishing for salmon. We laughed and sang songs about old times, then I felt the heartbeat as I had with the goblin. I squeezed. Not quite hard enough. Then the power within me faded again. I remember my knees suddenly unable to hold me up and I fell to the deck. Kefira stood guard over me as Skarr kicked her feet, then the curse came to me once more, not the complete curse with which I had dispatched the goblin, but enough to distract the man slightly. Was it enough? The man cried to himself and clutched his chest as my weak magics took effect
We were done for, I thought, as the crewman struggled for his cutlass to cut Skarr’s throat. But no! I’d bought her time as, with struggling, at last, Skarr’s yoke had cracked and one arm was free.
“Davaris!” she cried, “Lavanoyka si sibarrhe!”
Unable to move now, I whimpered with the power I had wielded. I curled up into a ball, with Kefira stood over me.
The Barbarian brought her one free arm up into the mans crotch and crushed his balls to pulp. He screamed in pain, and collapsed, as Skarr again stood, battering more crew that had appeared with the half broken yoke. Then, from somewhere she had a cutlass in her free hand and was ripping into the crew with it, still half yoked and with her ankles still securely fastened. Finally, with the battering it had taken, the locks on the yoke broke and Skarr was free of it. She decapitated the remaining crewman with the cutlass and turned to me. She knelt and gripped my chains in one hand, yanking them apart and freeing my hands with the other. She stared at me with those blue eyes of hers, fixing me with her gaze, a look of tenderness passed between us, then she smiled that maniac’s smile of hers, turned to her own ankle shackles and snapped the chain in two. I did not have much time to contemplate our freedom as she was running off, blade in hand, onto the deck in the open air, to a chorus of shouts and cries. I picked up a cutlass and went to help her. By the time I got to her, she was stood on a pile of about five bodies, bleeding from a dozen cuts and wounds, the two remaining crewmen fearful of attacking her. They did so finally, Skarr finished one and I the other, muttering again the curse that came now easily to my lips. Then we were onto the upper deck. Skarr kicked down the door of the Captain’s cabin, wood spintering her bare feet. She never even paused, instead running straight to the startled noseless Captain, threw down her cutlass and ran to the nearby treasure chest. I stood watch as Skarr retrieved our belongings, and her precious Doomsayer. Smiling that strange smile of hers, she moved behind the Captain and put her hands on his throat and chin.
“Someday, you Imperials will learn that Northers do not make good slaves. Remember me to your gods.”
Then she snapped his neck suddenly and quickly, and we looked down at ourselves. Ragged, barefoot, sweating, cut and bleeding from a dozen places, and covered in puke and piss, we presented a fearsome sight. But we were once again free, even if we were adrift with a crew of slaves who had no knowledge of sailing.
The first thing to do was to wash, and we did so. Then Skarr unlocked our broken shackles and we attended each others wounds, dressed and buckled on our weapons. Skarr handed me the Captains keys. At first I wondered why, but then I remembered our fellow slaves. I handed the keys to Kefira who had appeared in the doorway. We had done it. We were on our own ship , free of our captors and on the way to Samaria.
I quickly realised that a crew of slaves captained by an apprentice apothecary and a severely seasick Norther barbarian would not amount to much. As I pondered on these thoughts and Skarr, once again, heaved her guts up over the side of the ship, the deck lifted up suddenly under our feet, with a sound of splintering wood and rending iron. We had run aground! The ship screamed as it came apart beneath us! Then we were in the water, and all I could hear was the sounds of slaves struggling in the salty foam and spray. We could see a coastline clearly now, we were not that far from land. It appeared we had run aground on a reef and our hard won ship was now snapped in two and sinking fast. As I struggled to keep my head above the waves, I looked around for a sight of the Cock of the North herself. I couldn’t see her, and began to wonder if she had been dragged to the depths already. Suddenly I felt an arm grab me, there she was, soaking wet and struggling in the water. What dread hand had fate got in store for us now. I would not be long in finding out.
Olio su tela cm.80x100
Le mutter(madri), sono ispirate ad un passo del Faust di Goethe.Sono oscure forme in continua metamorfosi, generatrici di tutte le cose.
Altre Madri oscure nel set exhibitions
I berated myself all the way from the banks of the Medway up the A249 to Sittingbourne, telling myself it would be a wasted trip as clearly the church wouldn't be open. I had, in fairness, just struck out three churches in a row that were closed.
I arrived at the church, found a place to park.
There were no ride and stride signs, nothing to indicate it was open.
More dark mutterings to myself.
As I walked to the churchyard, families were coming out of the park next door, workers were clearing ivy from the wall surrounding the churchyard.
The porch gate had a lock on it, as before, but closer inspection showed it to not actually locking the gate. I tried it and the gate opened.
The next door was also unlocked, so I went through, and was in a void before the inner door.
I pushed and it did not yield.
I opened the middle door to let some light in, found the latch, pushed down and the door swung open to reveal a huge space.
To the west was the interior of the huge tower, big enough to fit some churches in. No ropes now hang down to ring bells.
I could find no light switches, so had to make do with natural light, meaning some details might have been missed.
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The massive 14th century tower grabs attention immediately, but just by the door is a most mysterious headstone which commemorates a man killed by a rocket at an early Guy Fawke`s celebration. Inside, the south aisle is almost as wide as the nave and has a rare rood loft staircase that runs in the thickness of the wall rather than up a spiral staircase. There is little stained glass but the east window, by the firm of Ward and Hughes is rather a masterpiece, with most of the subjects being real portraits – especially the figures of St George and St Uriel. An inscription nearby tells the whole story. At the junction of nave and chancel is a rare benefactions board which is carved to look like a memorial – look out for Faith Hope and Charity. The medieval vestry at the north east corner has an original shuttered window – a rare survival indeed, whilst under the huge tower is a benefactions board recording gifts to dredgermen`s widows. Now you don’t find them very often!
www.kentchurches.info/church.asp?p=Milton+Regis
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MILTON,
OR, more properly, Middleton, lies the next parish north-westward from Sittingborne, last described, and seems to have taken its name from the Saxon Midletun, a name denoting its situation in the middle part of this county.
THE PARISH of Milton is most of it situated on low flat ground, and extends from the high London road as far as the waters of the Swale northward, adjoining to which, the marshes in this parish are both fresh and salt, of a very large extent. In the southern or upper part of the parish, next to the London road, is a small hamlet, called from the soil Chalkwell, in which there are two modern-built houses of the better sort, the lower most of which has a large tan-yard belonging to it; near it there rise some springs, which fill several large ponds, the reservoirs for a corn mill below them, after which they run along the east skirts of the town, which are a continued swamp of watry bogs, into the creek below. The town, antiently called the king's town of Milton, as being part of the antient possessions of the crown, is situated about half a mile from the high London road, at the eastern boundary of the parish, the greatest part of it on the knole of a hill, extending mostly down the east side of it to the head of the creek, which flows north-westward from hence, and at two miles distance, after several meandrings, joins the waters of the Swale. It has a very indifferent character for health, owing both to the badness of the water, and the gross unwholesome air to which it is subject from its watry situation; nor is it in any degree pleasant, the narrow streets, or rather lanes in it, being badly paved, and for the most part inhabited by seafaring persons, fishermen, and oyster-dredgers.
Its commodious situation for navigation near the Swale, to which the town then stood much nearer than it does at present, caused it to be frequented by the Danes, in their piratical excursions into this county, particularly in 893, these pirates, who had been ravaging. France and the Low Countries, being distressed for subsistence, turned their thoughts towards England, for the sake of plunder: for this purpose, with one of their fleets, they sailed up to Apledore, and with the other, consisting of about eighty ships, under the command of Hastings their captain, they entered the mouth of the river Thames, and landing in this parish built themselves a fortress or castle here. Asserius writes, anno 892, Hastengus fecit sibi firmissimum oppidum apud Middeltunam. Sax. Chron. anno 893, interpreted, Arcem extruxit. Simon Dunelm, coll. 151, H. Huntingdon, lib. 5, Florence of Worcester, p. 595, and Chron. Malros, Fecit munitionem. Spelman, in his Life of Alfred, says, Dani castra validis operibus communiunt. This fortress was erected at a place called Kemsleydowne, in the marshes, about midway between the town and the mouth of the creek, the scite of which is still visible, and being overgrown with wood and bushes, has obtained the name of Castberough. (fn. 1) It is of a square form, and is surrounded by a high bank thrown up, and a broad ditch. There is a raised causeway, very plainly to be seen, leading from it towards the seashore. From this fortress they not only made their excursions and plundered the neighbouring country, but secured themselves against such power as the king might send against them.
This town of Milton being part of the royal demesnes, was a cause of its being destroyed by earl Godwin, who being at variance with Edward the Consessor, came here, with a large force, in the year 1052, and burned this town, then of good condition, to the ground; and afterwards ransacked and spoiled many other of the king's estates throughout the county. After which it does not seem to have been ever restored to its former state.
Its condition in the reign of queen Elizabeth may be seen by the survey, made by her order in the 8th year of her reign; by which it appears, that there were then in this town, houses inhabited one hundred and thirty, persons lacking habitations six, landing-places four, one called Fluddmill keye, appertaining to Sir Henry Cheney; the second, Whitlock's key, now the Town key; the third, Reynolds's, now Page's key; and the fourth, Hamond key, appertaining to Thomas Hayward, now Huggins's key; ships and vessels twenty-six, of which twenty were under ten tons; the rest were of twelve, sixteen, and twenty tons; and persons occupied in trade and fishing twenty four.
Since which the town of Milton has considerably increased, as well in the number of its houses and inhabitants, as in its wealth and trade. The number of houses at present is about two hundred and thirty, which are supposed to contain about twelve hundred inhabitants.
The trade of it chiefly consists in the traffic carrying on weekly at the four wharfs in it, where the corn and commodities of the neighbouring country are shipped for London, and goods of every sort brought back again in return; and in the fishery for oysters, a further account of which will be given hereafter. Besides which, the several mills here do not contribute a little to the benefit of this place; four of these are employed in the grinding of corn, and dressing it into flour; and the fifth, called Perrywinckle mill, was some few years ago applied to the manufacturing of pearl-barley, which used to be imported from Holland; and it was supposed to be the only mill in the kingdom where that article was brought to the same perfection as in Holland, but this manufacture for want of due encouragement has been since discontinued.
The town of Milton is governed by a a portreve, who is chosen annually on St. James's day, by the inhabitants of the parish paying church and poor's rates; whose office is, to oversee the market, and preserve good order within the town, and to execute the office of clerk of the market in all matters, within the hundreds of Milton and Marden; he likewise sets the price of all things which come to the keys, or any other creek within the hundred, being such things as head officers in other towns may set the prices on
The market, which is a very plentiful one for all sorts of butchers meat, poultry, &c. is held on a Saturday weekly, at the shambles, in the center of the town. Adjoining to them is the market-house, having a clock, and a bell, which is rung not only for the purpose of the market, but for the calling of the parshioners to church, for funerals, and for occasional parish meetings. At a small distance northward from the shambles is a king of court-house, being a very low old-timbered tenement, where the courts of the manor are kept, and other meetings held; at other times it is made use of as the school house; underneath it is the town prison.
The school is endowed with the annual sum of nine pounds, an account of which may be seen hereafter, among the charitable benefactions to this parish. The master is appointed by the minister and churchwardens. Nine or ten poor boys are taught to read and write in it.
There is a fair, which used to be held on the feast of St. Margaret, July 13, now, by the alteration of the stile, on the 24th of that month, and the two following days.
The lands in this parish, near the town, and especially on the lower or northern part of it, are very rich and sertile. Adjoining to these are the marshes, which extend to the waters of the Swale. Below the hill westward there is another streamlet, which having turned a mill near the vicarage, runs on not far distant from the church, and court-lodge, situated about half a mile northward below the present town, near which the former one destroyed by Earl Godwin is supposed to have once stood.
In the north-west part of this parish, among the marshes, there is a decoy for wild fowl, the only one, that I know of, in this part of the county. The fowl caught in it, are much esteemed for their size and flavor. Great numbers of them are weekly taken and sent up to London.
In this parish, at a small distance northward from Bobbing-place, is a farm called the Quintin farm, which shews that diversion to have been formerly used in it. (fn. 2)
THE FISHERY belonging to the manor and hundred of Milton is of very considerable account. It seems to have been granted by king John, by his charter, in his 7th year, to the abbot and convent of Faversham, by the description of the fisheries of Milton, which the men of Seasalter then held by the yearly rent of twenty shillings, payable at his manor of Milton, and by doing therefrom the customs and service which were wont to be to it.
King Edward III. in his 4th year, confirmed this grant, as did king Henry VI. and this fishery remained part of the possessions of the abbey till its dissolution, in the 30th year of Henry VIII. when it was surrendered up into the king's hands, together with all its possessions.
After which, the fee simple of this fishery remained with the manor in the hands of the crown, till the 10th year of king Charles I. when it was passed away, with it, by the words recited in the grant then made of the manor, to Sir Ed. Browne and Christ. Favell, as will be more fully mentioned below; after which, James Herbert, esq. coming into the possession of it, by the settlement of it from his father Philip, earl of Pembroke, he in the 26th year of king Charles II. obtained a fresh grant of this fishery, against which there was a quo warranto brought in the reign of queen Anne, on a petition of the fishermen of Rochester and Stroud, to shew by what authority they, the grantees, kept courts within their manor of Milton, and restrained the fishermen of those and the adjacent towns, from fishing and dredging for oysters within this hundred and manor: but on a trial had at bar, a verdict was given in his favor. Since which it has continued down, in like manner as the manor of Milton, to the right hon. Philip, viscount Wenman, and Mrs. Anne Herbert, who are at this time proprietors of this fishery, together with the manor.
The company of Fishermen, or Dredgers, of this fishery, hold it by lease from the owners of the manor, at the yearly rent of one hundred pounds and four bushels of oysters. They are governed by their particular officers, under certain rules or bye-laws, made by antient custom at the court baron of the manor. There are now about one hundred and forty freemen belonging to it.
The oysters produced from these grounds, within the limits of this fishery, are usually called Milton Natives, and are esteemed the finest and richest flavored of any in Europe. They are supposed to be the same that Juvenal particularly describes, in his fourth satire, as being reckoned a delicacy even in his time, in these words, satire iv. l. 144:
— Rutupinove edita fundo Ostrea, callebat primo deprendere morsu.
The sum usually returned for these oysters is from 3000l. to 7000l. per annum. The Dutch have been supposed by many, to have engrossed this article of luxury; but they expend but a very small part of the above sums, and sometimes none, for the space of seven years together.
IN THE WESTERN PART of this parish there are several hundred acres of coppice-wood, which are adjoining to a much larger tract of the like sort, extending southward almost as far as Binbury pound, on the west side of Stockbury-valley, for the space of near five miles. These woods, especially those in and near this parish, are noted for the great plenty of chesnut stubs interspersed promiscuously throughout them, which, from the quick and strait growth of this king of wood, makes them very valuable. These are so numerous in them, as to give name to most of these woods near Milton, which, besides their particular names to each of them, are usually called by the general name of Chesnut-woods. And in the presentment made of the customs of the manor of Milton in 1575, it is mentioned, that the occupiers of the three mills holden of the manor should gather yearly for the lord of it nine bushels of chestenottes, in Chestnott wood, or pay eighteen-pence by the year to the queen, who then had the manor in her own hands, and was possessed of three hundred acres of chesnut wood within this hundred.
¶These chesnuts are undoubtedly the indigenuous growth of Britain, planted by the hand of nature. They are interspersed throughout the whole tract, without any form or regularity, and are many of them, by their appearance, of great age; and by numbers of them, which now seem almost worn out and perishing, being made use of as the termini or boundaries, as well of private property as of parishes, it is plain they were first pitched upon, in preference to others, for that purpose, as being the largest and most antient ones of any then existing; and as these are hardly ever cut down or altered, they must have stood sacred to this use from the first introduction of private property into this kingdom, and the first division of it into parishes. Four letters were printed in 1771, after having been read before the Royal Society, two of which were written by Dr. Ducarel, and the other two by Mr. Thorpe and Mr. Hasted, to prove that chesnut-trees were the indigenous growth of this kingdom, in answer to an idea of the hon. Daines Barrington, who had a wish to establish a contrary opinion.
DR. PLOT says, that Herba Britannica, which Twyne and Johnson think to be bistort, Trisolium acetosum, or Oxys; Empetron, quæ est petrafindula Britanniæ prope peculiaris, and Crocus, were found at Milton by Scribonius Largus, when he came into Britain with the emperor Claudius. And he further says, that Crocus sativus, saffron, was heretofore sown and gathered (as now at Walden, in Essex) at Milton, and quotes for his authority, a manuscript rental of the manor of Milton, in the library of Christ-church, Canterbury.
MILTON is within the ECCLESIASTICAL JURISDICTION of the diocese of Canterbury, and deanry of Sittingborne.
The church is dedicated to the Holy Trinity. It is a large handsome building, consisting of two isles and two chancels, the southernmost of which belongs to the manor of Northwood. It has a well built tower at the west end, in which are five bells. In this church, among others, were formerly the arms of Barry, Diggs, Finch, of the Five Ports, of Norwood and Norton, with their several crests, trophies, and banners; of Marten quartering Boteler; one coat, Barry, argent and azure, on a canton of the first, a bird of the second; Argent, three bends azure, within a bordure, eight mullets; Gules, a fess or, between three mullets, argent; and in one of the windows, a man kneeling, with a coat of arms, Six lions rampant, three and three, and underneath, Orate paia Guliel Savage Armigi.
Mauricius ap John, rector of St. George's, in Exeter, was buried in the choir of this church, as appears by his will, anno 1499.
In the year 1070, being the 5th year of his reign, William the Conqueror gave to the abbot and convent of St. Augustine, the church of Middelton, and the tenths of all the products accruing from that manor, and the tenths of all its appurtenances, of the land, wood, meadows, and water, excepting the tenths of honey, and rent paid in money. (fn. 12)
Pope Lucius XI. in 1144, at the petition of abbot Hugh de Trottesclive, confirmed the annual pension of ten marcs from this church to that abbey.
In 1168, the conventual church of St. Augustine was the greatest part of it burnt; on which account this church was allotted to the sacristy there, for the repair of it. (fn. 13) But they did not keep it long, for in 1178, at the king's instance, they gave it up, and lost all property both in the church, and the advowson of it. A composition was entered into between the archbishop and the abbot in 1182, concerning the privileges and exemptions of the latter; when it was agreed, that the archdeacon, or his official, should receive his accustomed dues and procurations from the churches of St. Augustine, excepting those of Minster, Northborne, and Chistelet, and from this church likewise, when the monks should again get possession of the appropriation of it.
Four years after which, the abbot demised to the prioress of St. Sexburg of Shepey, the tiches which his monastery possessed, in right of this church, in Bobbing, at the yearly rent of ten shillings, on condition that all housekeepers, which should be on the estates from which they arose, should yearly repair to this the mother church, with their oblations, on Christmas-day, the Purification, and Easter day. And in 1188, the abbot demised to the prioress there, the tenths of Westlonde, within her parish, for the rent of fourteen shillings, payable yearly to the sacrist of St. Augustine.
About the year 1198, the abbot and convent recovered this church, which was then become vacant by the death of one Franco, the person to whom they had given it up, at the instance of king Henry. But they had kept it but a small time, before the archbishop disturbed them in their possession of it. However, by the mediation of mutual friends, and at the king's request, that he would not molest them in their appropriation of it; he out of respect to the king, ratified this church to them, to be possessed by them for ever. (fn. 14)
There was a pension of forty shillings payably yearly from this church, with the chapel belonging to it, to the above monastery, which, with the other pensions from their several churches, was given up by agreement in 1242, for a compensation out of the profits of the church of Preston.
The abbot and convent, among the extensive privileges from the papal see, had obtained an exemption from all archiepiscopal authority, and about the year 1295 made an institution of several new deanries, and apportioned the several churches belonging to his monastery, to each of them, according to their vicinity; one of these was the deanry of Lenham, in which this church was included. This raised great contests with the several archbishops, and after more than five years altercation, the abbot was stripped of these exemptions, and was declared, by the pope's bull, to be subject to the archbishop's jurisdiction, in like manner as before; which entirely dissolved these new deanries, and that of Lenham among them. (fn. 15)
Notwithstanding the abbot and convent seem to have held the appropriation of this church almost from held the appropriation of this church almost from the first grant of it, and though there had been vicars instituted to it long before this time, for Robert de Wikes, who stiles himself vicar of Middelton, by his deed in 1247, granted seven deywerks of land, with the houses built on it, for the habitation of the vicar of Middelton, for the time being; and the abbot and convent had in 1286, assigned a portion for the maintenance of the vicar here; yet there does not appear to have been any regular endowment of a vicarage to it, till the reign of king Edward III. when archbishop Stratford, in 1345, anno 20 Edward III. by his instrument, decreed, that the vicar of the church of Middelton, and his successors, should have the usual mansion of the vicarage, with the garden adjoining to it, together with one acre of the glebe of the same; and that he should have, in the name of the vicarage, all manner of oblations in the church of Middelton, and in all places, situated within the bounds and limits or titheable places of it; and that they should have in the name of the vicarage, all tithes of sylva cædua, wool, lambs, calves, pigs, ducks, geese, swans, pidgeons, cheese, milk-meats, herbage, apples, pears, and other fruit, growing in gardens and orchards, pulse, flax, hemp, eggs, rushes, merchandizes, and of all mills built, or which might in future be built, within the bounds and limits or titheable places of the church, and all other small tithes whatsoever belonging to it, and all legacies left in future to it, which the rectors or vicars of it might of right or custom take; also, that the vicars, in right of the vicarage, should have of the religious, the annual pension of 4s. (fn. 16) sterling, one seam or quarter of corn, and three quarters or seams of barley, on the feast of St. Michael, at Middelton, by them to be yearly paid, on pain of the sequestration of the fruits and profits of the church, belonging to the religious, to be laid on as often and whenever they should cease in the payment of the pension or barley, or should not pay either of them in the time above-mentioned.
But that the vicars should undergo the burthen of serving by themselves, or some other fit priest, the church in divine services, in the finding of one lamp, to burn before the altar of St. Mary there, and the ministering of bread, wine, lights, and other things, which should be necessary for the celebration of divine rights in the church. The burthen likewise of the payment of tenths and other impositions, whenever they might be imposed on the English church, or incumbent on the church, for the taxation of twelve marcs, beyond the burthens allotted to the religious underneath, they should undergo at their own costs and expences.
But the burthen of the reparation and rebuilding of the chancel of the church, both within and without, and also the finding and repairing of books and vestments, and ornaments of the church, which were wont or ought of right or custom, to be found and repaired by the rectors of churches, and all other burthens, ordinary and extraordinary, incumbent on the church, the religious should undergo and acknowledge for ever, &c. (fn. 17)
The church and vicarage, after this, remained part of the possessions of the monastery, till the final dissolution of it, in the 30th year of Henry VIII. when it was, with all its revenues, surrendered up into the king's hands, who by his dotation-charter, in his 33d year, settled both the appropriation of this church, and the advowson of the vicarage, among other premises, on his new-founded dean and chapter of Christchurch, Canterbury, with whom the inheritance of the parsonage still remains, the interest in the lease of it being now in the heirs of John Cockin Sole, esq. deceased, but the advowson of the vicarage the dean and chapter retain in their own hands, and are the present patrons of it.
The vicarage of Milton is valued in the king's books at 13l. 2s. 6d. and the yearly tenths at 1l. 6s. 3d.
¶In 1578, there were here, dwelling-houses on hundred and eight, communicants three hundred and seventy-four. In 1640 this vicarage was valued at eighty pounds. Communicants five hundred and twenty-nine.
The antient annual pension of four shillings, one quarter of wheat, and three quarters of barley, stipulated to be paid by the religious as before-mentioned, still continues to be paid by the lessee of the parsonage, by the covenants of his lease.
The agreement made between the prior of the brethren of the hospital of St. John of Jersalem and the abbot and convent of St. Augustine, about king Henry the IId.'s reign, that whenever their chapel of Rodmersham should be dedicated, and the cemetery consecrated, they would diminish by it none of the mother church of Middleton's rights; has already been more fully mentioned in the account of that parish before. (fn. 18)