but a second attack, under Lord Grey, is successful, and Grantham changes masters for a time. Then the war takes another turn, and Colonel Cavendish (March 23, 1643), again captures Grantham, thus enabling the Judges to follow, who hold an Assize there for the trial of offenders, and especially of those who had taken a part in the plundering before alluded to. A Parliamentary force of 800 horse and 200 Dragoons under Hotham, attempt to take Grantham; but their intention is known, Cavendish is on the alert, he has laid an ambush in Belton-lane, and there his foes begin to drop by scores, so that they fly-first to Ancaster-fighting as they fly, and thence disperse themselves wildly over the Heath; yet a third of the force is captured, and amongst these are the two Members for Boston, Sir Anthony Irby and William Ellis. But once more the fortune of war changes. A Regiment has been raised in Huntingdonshire, and its captain now advances into Lincolnshire, takes Croyland, that had been fortified by Captain Welby, and fights the Royalist troops with such complete success, that he is able to send the following letter to the metropolis, directed to William Lenthall, the then Speaker of the House of Commons:: "Sir: God hath this evening given us a glorious victory over our enemies; they were, as was informed unto me, 21 colours of horse troops, and 3 or 4 of Dragoons. It was late in the evening when we drew out our forces, consisting of about 12 troops, whereof some of them so poor and broken that you should seldom see worse. With this handful it pleased God to cast the scale of victory on our side. For often we had stood a little above musket shot, the one body from the other; and the Dragoons having fired on both sides for the space of half-an-hour or more; they not advancing towards, we advanced to charge them, and advancing our whole body after many shots on both sides (but their bullets still flew over our heads and did us no harm), we came on with our troops a pretty sound trot, they standing firm to receive us; but after about half-an-hour in that posture, and some great shot spent on both sides, our men most violently and resolutely marched up and fiercely charged on them. Whereupon their hearts instantly failed them: a spirit of trembling came upon them, and they were immediately routed and ran all away, and we had the execution of them two or three miles out at least; and I verily believe that some of our soldiers killed two or three men apiece in the pursuit. The true number of men slain we are not certain of, but by creditable report, and estimate of our soldiers, and by what I myself saw, there were very little less than a hundred slain and mortally wounded, and we lost but two men at the most on our side. took 45 prisoners, besides divers of their horses and arms, and rescued many prisoners whom they had lately taken of ours, and we took 4 or 5 of their colours, and so marched away to Lincoln." We The writer of this letter, whose name is subjoined, was Oliver Cromwell! The concluding portion of my subject consists of two scenes, ex hibiting the dangers of the heath. The first of which is a scene of horror, a fearful contest on the Heath with a witch! Long had one of those dangerous creatures haunted this locality some centuries ago (at least, so says the legend); sometimes she was seen cowering over a fire emitting a blue unearthly light, and sometimes flitting bat-like through the shades of night, intent on mischief towards man and beast, when a certain knight made a vow that he would rid the Heath of so great a pest. When watering his horses, therefore, at a little pond at Ancaster, formed out of a portion of the old Roman ditch, and now shaded by a widely spreading willow, he prayed that the horse best calculated to bear him safely during his coming adventure, might give some token to that effect; upon which a grand steed, termed "Bayard," tossed up his head and neighed again and again. Therefore on that horse is our hero of the moment now mounted when on his way to the witch's usual place of resort. Soon he sees a mysterious light proceeding from a deeplyrecessed hollow in the rock, whence rushes out a haggard creature with glowing yellow eyes, long grey hair streaming in the wind, and bony hands and feet armed with pointed claw-like nails, who deals him many a buffet. In vain does he cut at this assailant with his trusty sword, for she is like a gutta-percha figure, and his weapon is only blunted by his cuts, until at last, with one tremendous blow, he succeeds in wounding her, but at the same time snaps his sword in two! Then, maddened by pain, the witch has sprung upon poor Bayard's back behind the knight, intending to tear him from his horse, but the good steed flies, and still faster, as the witch's claws deepen in the shoulders of the knight and the flanks of the horse; when happily the former calls to mind a cross road near at hand, and if he can but reach this he is safe. He pulls the left rein, therefore, and away bounds Bayard in that direction, until with one prodigious effort he clears the point of junction, and the witch falls dead before the leap is accomplished. The spot where this scene is said by tradition to have occurred, is still called "Bayard's Leap," and the marks of Bayard's hoofs are still impressed upon the turf; but it is (we are bound to add), reported, that these are annually renewed by the present gallant owner of the land on which they appear. Real deeds of violence, however, have been many times perpetrated on the heath. One was long recorded in the Nave of Lincoln Minster to this effect:-"Here lies John of Rauceby, formerly Canon of this Church, who was with malice prepense nefariously slain on the "Haythe" (spelt thus), in the year of our Lord 1388, by William. God have mercy upon his soul." The surname of the murderer had been effaced either by accident or d sign. In latter times it was men's purses rather than their lives that were in great danger on the Heath-from highwaymen, by which it was infested. Even in the last century, the Windmill House, in the parish of Leasingham, was a favourite place of assemblage for these gentlemen of the road, as they were termed; and that little hollow on the Lincoln road in Dunsby parish, now marked by a row of cottages, was the most common scene of attack upon travellers. There were also natural dangers arising from the character of the Heath in olden days, for when no well-kept roads traversed it, and it could boast of still fewer houses upon it than at present, poor folks were often lost upon its dreary expanse, and some died from prolonged exposure to cold and wind and snow upon the Heath. In my own Parish Register are several evidences of such misfortunes; within a space of fifty-three years, nine poor travellers having apparently just reached Leasingham, on the southern confines of the Heath, to die. They run as follows in the list of burials:-"Elizabeth Ping, a stranger ; ""Susanna Ellis, a traveller;" "Dolton Pickworth, a poor stranger;" and sometimes even still shorter, such as "A travelling woman,' or "A travelling man,” without a name at all; yet these speak of unknown sufferings as well as of unknown persons. Two remaining instances of thanks offerings for preservation from starvation on the Heath, confirm this opinion; the first is connected with Blankney, where a small field was left to the parish by a female whose life had been saved through the tolling of the church bell, on condition that that bell should be rung every evening at eight o'clock. The other, with Potterhanworth, where twenty-three acres of land, called Culfrey-lands, were left by a traveller who had been rescued from the Heath by hearing the sound of Potterhanworth church bell, to the oldest parishioner who had not received parochial relief, and who was to have the proceeds of the land as his fee, on condition that the bell should be tolled every evening at ten minutes to seven. But at length a greater benefactor was found, in the person of Sir Fras. Dashwood, who erected Dunston Pillar, and placed upon its summit a large glass lantern, that was lighted every night, for the purpose of guiding benighted travellers on their way across the Heath. And no doubt it served that purpose well, but yet it did not always enable people to get to their own homes in safety, especially when they had been carousing at the Green Man club, formerly much frequented by the gentry of the neighbourhood, and when far more liquor was unhappily consumed than now, for it is recorded that two of these on their way towards Lincoln, after they had been assisted into their carriage, and their coachman had been previously assisted into his box, thought it prudent to give him the following directions :- “John, be sure you keep the Pillar light upon your right, and then we shall get home safe," before sinking into sleep. But when they awoke and found the sun was rising, and that they were still near the Pillar, and still in their carriage instead of being in their beds, one of them called out, "Why, John, where are we?" Upon which John answered, "Oh, it's all right, sir, the light is still upon my right;" and so it was, for he had been circling round it all night, and was consequently not much nearer home than when he began to drive. My last subject forms a strong contrast to the one preceding it. Violence and dangers have passed away, and all is peace. Now there are no witches, no murderers, no robbers on the Heath, nor need even for a light on Dunston Pillar. Moreover, there is plenty there as well as peace! Thanks to bones and cake, thanks to the four field system, but above all, thanks to the enterprising spirit of the times, and the mutual confidence that exists between landlords and tenants, a scene of peaceful prosperity is now annually exhibited upon the Heath which does one's heart good to witness. Instead of a lantern, an effigy of good King George III. surmounts the Pillar at Dunston, and when it was reported to him that Lord Buckinghamshire intended to set up a statue in his honour upon Lincoln Heath, he is reported to have said, “Ah! Lincolnshire, all flats, fogs, and fens!" so that he did not relish the idea at all; but could he now see the locality where that statue still stands, he might be justly proud of that portion of his kingdom, and with reason rejoice in the national peace now so generally enjoyed, and which was so rare a blessing during his long reign. Moreover this Royal effigy now shelters a most appropriate emblem of the scene around it, for beneath one of its arms a swarm of bees has for years past settled, so characteristic of that human industry which has converted a profitless waste into a fertile and prolific corn growing district. But while I am admiring the wondrous straightness of each long line of rising wheat and barley upon the Heath, and am vainly looking out for weeds between them, I suddenly hear the "ping" of a distant rifle from the vicinity of Sleaford, and then another and another, and then I am told that a large body of men of all ranks have left their usual peaceful occupations their farms, their desks, and their trades-to become soldiers! Is it war then that we nurture in our hearts after all? do we mean once more to quarter the lilies of France with the lions of England, being bent on conquest or national glory? No, we still mean peace, and nothing else but peace, and it is for its preservation that we have armed, our motto being, Defence, not Defiance." Thankful then that we do not live in Celtic, Roman, Saxon, or Norman days-that we are not engaged in wild adventures like the Templars, nor in wars at home or abroad, when violence or injustice more or less prevailed, it is still a pleasure to look back upon the past, if it is only for the purpose of deepening our thankfulness for the great privilege we enjoy of living in the 19th century, rather than in any other that has preceded it. 66 Leasingham. |