The Pattern Under the Plough

by George Ewart Evans

  There is also another link between the bees in classical times and their discipline as observed in the old country tradition. This was the custom of tinging (or tanging) the bees. Here is an account of it from East Anglia:15 ‘Before he went to work on a summer’s morning my father often used to tell my mother: “Watch the bees today, Mother. It’s a-going to be hot.” And if later on there was a commotion in the garden, us children used to run into the house and say: “The bees are out, Mother!” Then she’d get the key of the door and she’d say: “Go and get the dust-pan,16 quick!” She’d then go after the bees a-tinging the pan with the door-key to make the swarm settle. They used to say that you could follow wherever your bees went if they swarmed across someone else’s property. There was a clear right-of-way, as long as you did no damage.’

  There is also another belief about the bees that should be briefly recorded; a bee-sting has curative value for those who suffer from rheumatism or arthritis. A Suffolk doctor recently told the writer: ‘Mr A. spent a number of years abroad. When he returned to this village he was crippled with rheumatism. He decided to keep bees in order to get rid of it. He became a bee-keeper and, in fact, he did cure himself.’

  1 W. H. Thurlow (born 1892).

  2 James Collins (born 1856, died 1917?).

  3 A. G. Addison (born 1910), Stowupland.

  4 Recalled by Leonard Aldous (born 1900), Debenham.

  5 William Cobbold (1883–1964) of Battisford.

  6 F.L.H., p. 28.

  7 Tinnitus cie et Matris quate cymbala circum. V.G., IV, l. 64.

  8 Melissa officinalis is also the name of lemon balm. There is an old belief that if this plant grew in the garden the bees would not leave the hive.

  9 V.G., IV, ll. 149–53.

  10 C. G. Jung and C. Kerenyi, Essays on a Science of Mythology, New York, 1963, p. 69.

  11 deum in line 221 is probably a genitive deorum and not a rather heavy Deum as it has been translated.

  12 Ecloga, IV, lines 4 ff. v. E. V. Rieu, Virgil, The Pastoral Poems, London, 1949, pp. 97–103.

  13 Tales My Father Taught Me, London, 1962, p. 63.

  14 V.G., IV, ll. 58–61.

  15 W. H. Thurlow, Stonham Aspal.

  16 Sometimes it was the frying-pan and the poker – Matris cymbala!

  10

  Perambulations

  THERE is one custom that directly affects houses which straddle parish boundaries. These houses are by no means rare, even in the countryside; and it appears that parish officers still have the right of entry into private property not more than once in three years in order to establish the boundaries of the parish. The Perambulation or Beating the Bounds is an ancient ceremony that has its roots in the Roman festivals of Terminalia and Ambarvalia. The first was a sanctification by both owners of the boundary-stones between their properties with the sacrifice of a young animal, a libation of wine, and a crowning of the boundary-stones with garlands. It occurred in February. The Ambarvalia1 was a joyful procession, at the end of winter, around the ploughed fields in honour of Ceres.2 The ceremony included singing, dancing and the sacrifice of animals, also the symbolical driving away of evil from the cornland by a ritual beating with sticks.3 These ceremonies aimed at two ends: the sanctifying of the boundaries, thus putting them above earthly dispute; and secondly, the blessing of the crops. This was the rogatio, an entreaty of the supernatural powers to preserve the corn that was fast coming to maturity.

  Later, these two pagan ceremonies were Christianized and joined in a ritual4 which was regularly celebrated at Rogationtide, the fifth Sunday after Easter. The Rogationtide procession was a means both of re-affirming the parish boundaries and of entreating God to send good weather and fair fortune to the growing crops. At the head of the procession was a priest; following was a crowd of people, some carrying wands or sticks. The priest stopped at various well-known land-marks – usually an ancient tree – and read the gospel for the day, sanctifying the occasion and at the same time conferring the incidental title of Gospel Oak on the tree which in many villages, for instance the Suffolk village of Polstead, has long outlasted the ceremony. Queen Elizabeth I ordered that Psalms 103 and 104 should be read, and that the priest should exhort the people to give thanks and that he should say aloud such sentences as: ‘Cursed is he that transgresseth the bounds or doles of his neighbour.’5

  The bearers of the sticks and the young boys in the procession also had an essential part in the ceremony: at certain points of the boundary – usually those susceptible of dispute – the men proceeded to beat the land-mark with their sticks; then half in jest, half in earnest, they transferred their beating to the boys; as an eighteenth-century record has it:6 ‘whipping ye boys by way of remembrance and stopping their cry with some halfpence’.

  The Perambulation or Rogationtide ritual has been revived in many East Anglian parishes in recent years, more in the form of a rogatio rather than a beating of the bounds. The boundaries of most parishes have been definitively established for many years, following the successive ordnance surveys, and the only walking parish officers do officially today is the walking of the footpaths to establish right-of-way. But for centuries the beating of the bounds served a very practical purpose: the ceremony was essential at a time when maps were neither common or reliable. In many disputes over boundaries the oral testimony of those who had taken part in a perambulation was the only evidence the parties could appeal to; and even today in an age when maps have placed the physical detail of a parish beyond dispute, the detailed knowledge of use and custom held by the oldest inhabitant is sometimes invoked as a necessary and relevant supplement.

  But apart from boundary disputes, from the earliest days of the church it was necessary for the parish officers to know exactly which houses or property lay within their jurisdiction, for each owner was liable to contribute towards the upkeep of the fabric of the parish church, and he in his turn could claim burial within the church’s precincts. Yet for hundreds of years an exact determination of the parish boundaries was vital for one over-riding reason: the establishment of the parish as the unit of poor-law administration. The Tudor poor-law enactments, culminating in the 1601 Act – the basis for poor-law administration for over two centuries – combined with later enactments to set up the parish as a kind of closed compound. By making it chargeable for its own poor, legislation brought it about that the parish officers – the churchwardens, the constable and the overseers of the poor – felt it one of their main functions to see that they had as few poor as possible in the village. And in the event, this meant not so much an attention to the over-all economy of the parish as a determination to get rid of the poor they had by transporting them elsewhere, and by preventing any pauper or likely pauper from outside their boundaries from setting foot within. Before being eligible for poor relief a person had to gain a settlement in a parish, and in many cases this was as difficult as the entry of the proverbial rich man into heaven. A policy of excessive vigilance in carrying out this one aspect of their duties caused officers to hound the poor from one parish to another. The cost in actual expenditure following the constant law-suits about places of settlement and the cost in actual suffering was tremendous, and made a mockery of the word charity from which it has never recovered.

  A settlement dispute concerning two places near the Norfolk-Suffolk border illustrates the difficulties of a house divided by a parish boundary; it also serves as an example of the absurdities into which a mechanical application of the law betrayed the parish officers. Almost the whole story of the dispute is told in a barrister’s brief,7 prepared for the appeal at Ipswich Trinity Sessions in 1830 by the churchwardens and overseers of the poor of the parish of Wortham against an order of two magistrates of the Borough of Eye, removing a pauper and his wife from Eye to Wortham. The Respondents were the churchwardens and overseers of the poor of Eye who had initiated steps to lessen the poor-rate by getting the man and his wife removed outside the parish. The barrister was briefed to put the ca
se for the Appellants – the parish of Wortham:

  ‘The Pauper, Thomas Woods, is 38 years of age and was born in the Respondent Parish (Eye) from whence he, at the age of 13, let himself on a Michaelmas day to a Mr Hammond for one year at the wages of 40s, and after serving a year and receiving his wages, again let himself to Mr Hammond as a weekly servant; and having lived about 9 weeks under the second hiring left the service and returned to the Respondent Parish where he continued about 3 years without, however, as he says, letting himself for a year. He then enlisted into the 12th Regiment of Foot and went abroad from whence he, in February, 1818 returned home with a disorder in his eyes which terminated in blindness. Ever since he has returned he has been resident in and constantly relieved by the Respondent Parish until he was removed to the Appellant Parish (Wortham) by the Order now appealed against, having a short while prior to his removal, married a young woman, a circumstance which might lead to an increase of the charge on the parochial fund, and which therefore increased the anxiety of the Respondents to settle him elsewhere.

  ‘Mr Hammond, while the Pauper lived with him, kept a public house in Burgate, called the Burgate Dolphin, lying chiefly in that Parish and partly it is believed in the Appellant Parish (of Wortham). The Respondents, however, will contend that the room in which the Pauper slept is either wholly in the Appellant Parish or partly in that Parish and in the adjoining Parish of Burgate; and that in the latter case his head, as he lay in bed, rested in the Appellant Parish and the rest of his person in Burgate; and they will thus contend that where the person of an individual lies in two Parishes when he is sleeping his settlement is in that Parish where his head lies. On the part of the Appellants it will be contended that the room in question is wholly in Burgate or partly in that Parish and partly in the Appellant Parish and that supposing the Pauper rested in both parishes as he lay in bed he gained a settlement in neither. A model of the House in question and a ground plan and a chamber plan of it will be produced and given in evidence on the part of the Appellants; and a copy of the Plans accompanies this Brief: from which it will appear that the house is in height one story and that this story contains three bed rooms, in the middle room of which the Pauper slept. The house is copyhold and is described in the Court Books as lying in Burgate and Wortham; and in order to prove that it lies wholly in Burgate evidence will be given on the part of the Appellants that it is assessed to the Land and assessed taxes and to the poor’s rate for Burgate, that the Constable of Burgate used to leave the Militia Schedules at the House, that in the Magistrates’ and Excise Licences it is described as situate in Burgate; and the piece of land attached and belonging to the House is titheable to Burgate: while, on the other hand, the premises are not and never were assessed for any of those taxes or rates and pays no tithes to the Appellant Parish of Wortham and no Militia Schedules were ever left by the Constables of that Parish.

  ‘Some pains have been taken by the Appellants to ascertain the boundaries of the two parishes and particularly as to the line of boundary adopted by the Parish of Burgate in their perambulations. It appears that they, on these occasions, entered at the front door opening into the Kitchen and proceeded in a straight line to and entered the Washhouse (a sort of lean-to erected within a few years) where they put a stick thro’ a hole at the right hand corner of the Washhouse – that they then returned into the Kitchen; and going out at the back door went round by the Washhouse, taking a circle at the back of the house returned to the back door and again went out at the front. The track thus taken is distinguished by a dotted line in the plan. The front door and the door of the Washhouse are opposite each other and supposing the boundary line to run in the centre of the space between these doors and supposing (which appears to be the fact) that all that part of the house on the right of this line lies in the Parish of Burgate it will follow that the room in which the pauper slept is wholly in that Parish and that therefore the settlement is in Burgate.

  ‘In this kitchen (as will be seen by the model) there is affixed to the ceiling a strip of wood about 2 inches in thickness which will be called a Beam but which it appears is nothing more than the head of a partition (which probably formerly existed but has since been removed) it not having the joists of the ceiling or anything else framed to it and giving no support or strength to the building. Be it however a beam or no beam, the Respondents will, probably, contend that it marks the boundary line of the two Parishes and some evidence, though of a very slight nature, they will be enabled to give on that point. Admitting, however, this strip of wood to be the boundary the Case will stand somewhat thus: The wall against which the pauper’s bedstead was placed is 11 inches from this partition head. The bedstead (which by the bye is now in the room at the same spot and in the same condition as when the pauper slept in it) has a head board to it. Then a bolster is to be placed against this head board, and making allowances for the circumstances the question will be: how much of the Pauper’s head lay within these 11 inches? But the answer will be certainly not the whole of his head but at most only 4 or 5 inches of it; that is, supposing he lay with his head on the bolster; for if he lay with his head beneath the bolster (as boys are in the habit of doing) then no part of his head would lay within the 11 inches but his whole person would lie in Burgate. These niceties are, however, very absurd, and common sense would say they ought not to be entertained; but that the Court ought to decide that the Pauper gained a settlement in neither parish if it appear that he slept in both at the same time.

  ‘A question naturally arises as to what line of boundary the Appellants have adopted in their perambulations; and the fact, which ought not to be concealed, is that they have always included this house as lying within their Parish. But as they have never assessed the house to any of their parochial charges and have in no other way supported their line of boundary, this fact becomes, it is contended, of no importance. Indeed, it is difficult to ascertain with any degree of certainty the boundary line of these two parishes for they (and Burgate in particular) have perambulated their Parishes so seldom that the oldest men living cannot remember the perambulations to have taken place more than twice in their lifetime. Thus doubts may be fairly entertained as to which Parish the House in question really lies in; and if the Court in the midst of this difficulty will reject all evidence of locality arising from the perambulations and will look only at the question of reputation they will decide that the house lies wholly in Burgate seeing that it pays land and assessed taxes and tithes to that Parish while it is described in the documents above referred to (especially the land tax assessments) as being there situate and that, consequently, the settlement of the Pauper is not in the Appellant Parish but in the Parish of Burgate.’

  The outcome of the case was announced briefly in the Ipswich Journal for 17th July, 1830: ‘Ipswich Quarter Sessions: Wortham appellants and Eye respondents; orders quashed on debate.’ So Thomas Woods, the blind ex-soldier, and his wife were allowed to settle where they had done so at first – in the parish of Eye.

  The present Dolphin inn has been much altered, and now looks like a fairly modern brick house. But appearances, as usual in East Anglia, are deceptive; and a former occupant8 of the inn remembers when the timbers and wattle-and-daub were removed and replaced by a brick front. The plans that accompanied the above brief show, in fact, a typical yeoman’s house of probably the late sixteenth or early seventeenth century, with the stairs – as already described – opening straight on to a room or wide landing. The chamber plan shows the original arrangements of the bedrooms, one leading into another, the master and mistress sleeping at the end bedroom that had only one access. This was the usual arrangement in East Anglian houses until a passage was made against one wall to give separate access to each bedroom. The passage in the present Dolphin was constructed along the east wall, a natural development of the ‘doorways’ with screens shown in the plan. To many of the old generation in East Anglia the seventeenth-century type of chamber plan was the usual one, the master an
d the mistress walking through the room where the apprentice or some of the children slept, perhaps jogging a child’s elbow if he was sleeping on his left side – the wrong side – as the Blaxhall back’us boy was wont to do.9

  There is a tradition in the villages of Wortham and Burgate that the ambiguous position of the Dolphin has been brought to notice on another occasion. Some years ago the Wortham constable was about to arrest a man who had gone to earth in the inn after a poaching or similar minor offence. As it happened the wrong-doer was in the Wortham part of the house when the constable approached; but receiving warning he quickly slipped into the bar on the Burgate side, thus putting himself outside the constable’s jurisdiction.10 There is also a tradition in these villages that the perambulation party used to confirm the boundary where a pond lay right across it: they took a farmer’s twenty-two-yard measuring chain and dragged it through the water at this point.

  An example from Suffolk shows that another similar device was sometimes used to prove the boundaries when a house lay partly in one parish and partly in an adjacent one. Such a house was Boss Hall which was once divided by the boundary line between the village of Sproughton and the borough of Ipswich. Boss Hall was originally a moated Tudor house and was one of the traditional places where the perambulation party stopped when beating the bounds. They did this regularly at least up to the end of the last century. A Sproughton man11 has described one of these perambulations: ‘The schoolmaster and the parson took a whole class of us boys around to beat the bounds. We had sticks and we beat the bounds at certain places. We went all round, up to the Chantry and back again. We stopped at certain farms, and they gave us boys lemonade and the men had beer. I well remember coming to Boss Hall. The old boundary between Sproughton and Ipswich lay right across the house. So the only way to prove the boundary was to throw a rope over the roof of the house. Mr Freeman, the schoolmaster, did that. No, he never beat us boys when we went round. That had died out, no doubt, afore our time. But I recollect when me and another boy got scrapping about something while we were going round with the party. We went at one another hammer-and-tongs – but we couldn’t finish it. But when we got to school the schoolmaster finished it for us right well: both of us got a beating of a different kind. When this happened I had passed the fourth standard and I left school at eleven; so it was a tidy time ago – well over sixty year, I reckon.’