DY24009 The Old Inns of Old England Vol I & II 1906 V01 140324

 See the links to “The Old Inns of Old England Vol I & II “ which were published in 1906. They were written by Charles G. Harper who created the excellent pen and ink sketches in the book along with some unusual unique written content. Digitised copies can be viewed free of charge using these links below at archive.org along with downloading them if you wish all for free.

The Old Inns of Old England Vol 1 1906

https://archive.org/details/cu31924070683929/page/n6/mode/1up

The Old Inns of Old England Vol II 1906

https://archive.org/details/cu31924070683937/page/n17/mode/2up

For this blog post I have looked at six Old Inns in the Vol II.

The Old Inns of Old England are really odd books with peculiar content certainly not reading like a normal travelogue which you sort of expect covering the Old Inns of Old England. But this makes it even more eccentric to read and certainly very difficult to extract into a more traditional format of being more thematically focussed. This is what appeals to me about old books. But inevitably what always appeals to me is the artwork with the truly wonderful pen and ink sketches by Charles G. Harper. It is not surprising to learn he was a very accomplished artist who along with publishing these self- illustrated travel books also published books on drawing particularly pen and ink art.

Read his Wikipedia Bio below.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_George_Harper

 

From Vol II only I have extracted six local Old Inns in the Midlands Region of the United Kingdom covering Warwickshire, Worcestershire and Shropshire. These have had added to the original text, drawings and photos an up to date Google Screenshot and a Google Geotag so you can use Google Street View to look in more detail around the inn locations. I have visited all these locations and The White Swan in Henley in Arden acts as my local pub whilst we use the Lygon Arms, Broadway for special family occasions. The Wheatsheaf in Tewkesbury is now a second hand book shop and one of the places I buy my old books after which we go for a drink in The Bell, Tewkesbury which we have visited over the last 50 years being directly opposite Tewkesbury Abbey. We then walk down to Tewkesbury Mill next to the River Avon Weir and then along this backwater overlooking the Severn Ham. This whole area suffers amazing flooding with often only the Tewkesbury Abbey on its little hillock kept in the dry. There are amazing aerial photos showing the Tewkesbury Abbey sticking up in the centre of a huge lake of water on its little hillock.  

Apart from the Lygon Arms, which uses Cotswold Stone,  all the other inns are Timber Framed Buildings (TFB) which is my favourite historical construction method displaying their own unique external wood patterns. 

Use this free link to look at some of the Timber Framed Buildings of Kenilworth, Warwickshire, United Kingdom.

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Z_yEUap5muElUs0ZS4AfrcGnIFHgY60i/view?usp=sharing

These Old Inns are :-

The Swan, Knowle now a Library

The White Swan, Henley in Arden now a Hotel and Inn

Lygon Arms , Broadway now a Hotel and Inn

The Bell, Tewkesbury now a Hotel and Inn

The Wheatsheaf, Tewkesbury now a Second Hand Bookshop

Feathers. Ludlow now a Hotel and Inn

Please Note 

When you are reading the text this is copied from the 1906 book so it reflects how things stood in 1906 and not today. (2024).

To use the Google Geotag click the Google Link, click the Red Pin and then select the Street View image normally on the bottom left of the screen. Navigate the Street View using the white arrows displayed over the Street View to locate the correct building.   

The Swan, Knowle

When the “Swan” at Knowle, near Birmingham, was built, “ever so long ago,” which in this case was somewhere about the beginning of the seventeenth century, the neighbourhood of Knowle was wild, open heath. The country round about has long ceased to be anything at all of that nature, but the village has until quite recently retained its rural look, and only in our time is in process of being swallowed by the boa-constrictor of suburban expansion. In a still rustic corner, near the church, the “Swan” stands as sound as ever, and will probably be standing, just as sound in every particular, centuries hence, when the neighbouring houses, built on ninety-nine years leases, and calculated to last barely that time, will be in the last stages of decay. The “Swan” has the additionally interesting feature of a very fine wrought-iron bracket, designed in a free and flowing style, to represent leaves and tendrils, and supporting a handsome oval picture-sign of the “Swan.”

http://www.google.com/search?q=52.3893830,-1.7350460

 

The White Swan, Henley in Arden

According to Graves, Shenstone, about 1750, visited a friend, one Mr. Whistler, in the southernmost part of Oxfordshire, and did not particularly enjoy his visit, Mr. Whistler sending the poet’s servant off to stay at an inn, in order that the man and the domestics of his own house should not gossip together. Shenstone himself seems to have been a very unamiable guest, and one better suited to an inn than to the house of a friend; for he grew disagreeable over being expected to play “Pope Joan” in the evening with his friend’s children, and sulked when he lost a trifle at cards. Then he would not dress himself tidily for dinner, and snuffed and slouched to the inconvenience of every one, so that it is not surprising to read of a coolness, and then quarrels, coming to estrange the pair, resulting in Shenstone abruptly cutting short his visit. He lay, overnight, on his journey home, at the “Sunrising” inn, and the next[Pg 300] morning, in an arbour, inscribed the famous lines which now form the last stanza of “Freedom.”

“More stanzas,” says Graves, “were added afterwards,” and he rightly adds that they “diminish the force” of the original thought.

The “Sunrising” inn, long since become a private mansion, and added to very largely, has no relics of Shenstone. It stands, with lovely gardens surrounding, on the very lip and verge of Edge Hill, and looks out across the great levels of Warwickshire. In recent times the hill has becomes famous, or notorious, for motor and cycle accidents, and the approach to it is heralded by a notice-board proclaiming “Great Danger. Cyclists Dismount.” But in these days of better brakes, very few obey that injunction, and ride down, safely enough.

Whistler died in 1754, when Shenstone, remorseful, wrote, “how little do all our disputes appear to us now!”

Here, then, is the original story of the famous inscription, but it does not necessarily prove that this melancholy poet did not also inscribe it at Henley-on-Thames and elsewhere, notably at the “White Swan,” at that quite different and far-distant place from the Thames-side Henley, Henley-in-Arden, Warwickshire; an old-fashioned house still in existence, and claiming to date from 1358.

If the story of the “Red Lion” at the Oxfordshire Henley be a myth, as it is held to be, it is one of very considerable age, and one that has not only misled uncounted myriads of writers, but will continue to do so until the end of time. There is no disabling the flying canard, no overtaking the original lie, howsoever hard you strive; and as the famous stanza really was at one time to be seen on a window of the “Red Lion” (whether written there by Shenstone or another), it really seems that there is a way out of the dilemma that probably has never until now been considered. Shenstone resided on the Shropshire border, near Henley-in-Arden, but on his journeys to and from London must often have stayed at the “Red Lion,” Henley-on-Thames, then on one of the two principal coach-routes; and it is quite probable that he was so pleased with the last stanza of “Freedom,” and so satisfied with its peculiar fitness for inn windows, that he inscribed it at both places, if not indeed at others as well.

http://www.google.com/search?q=52.2922664,-1.7801265

 

Lygon Arms, Broadway

Let us, then, imagine ourselves at Broadway, in Worcestershire, and at the “Lygon Arms” there. The village, still somewhat remote from railways, was once an important place on the London and Worcester Road, and its long, three-quarter-mile street is really as broad as its name implies; but since the disappearance of the coaches it has ceased to be the busy stage it once was, and has become, in the familiar ironic way of fortune, a haven of rest and quiet for those who are weary of the busy world; a home of artists amid the apple-orchards of the Vale of Evesham; a slumberous place of old gabled houses, with mullioned and transomed windows and old-time vanities of architectural enrichment; for this is a district of fine building-stone, and the old craftsmen were not slow to take advantage of their material, in the artistic sort.

Many enraptured people declare Broadway to be the prettiest village in England, and the existence of its artist-colony perhaps lends some aid to their contention; but it is not quite that, and although the long single street of the place is beautiful in detail, it does not compose a picture as a whole. One of the finest—if not indeed the finest—of those detailed beauties is the grand old stone front of the “Lygon Arms,” built, as the “White Hart” inn, so long ago as 1540, and bearing that name until the early part of the last century, when the property was purchased by the Lygon family, whose head is now Earl Beauchamp, a title that, although it looks so medieval, was created in 1815. In more recent times the house was purchased by the great unwieldy brewing firm of Allsopp, but in 1903 was sold again to the present resident proprietor, Mr. S. B. Russell, and so has achieved its freedom and independence once more. The “Lygon Arms,” however, it still remains, its armorial sign-board displaying the heraldic coat of that family, with their motto,Ex Fide Fortis.

The great four-gabled stone front of the “Lygon Arms” gives it the air of some ancient manor-house, an effect enhanced by the fine Renaissance enriched stone doorway added by John Trevis, an old-time innkeeper, who flourished in the reigns of James the First and Charles the First, and whose name, together with that of his wife, Ursula, and the date, 1620, can still be plainly seen. John Trevis (or “Treavis,” as the name was sometimes spelled) ended his hostelling in 1641, as appears by a rubbing from his memorial brass from Broadway old church, prominently displayed in the hall of the house.

The house has during the last few years been gradually brought back to its ancient state, and the neglect that befell on the withdrawal of the road-traffic repaired. But not merely neglect had injured it. The ancient features had suffered greatly in the prosperous times at the opening of the nineteenth century, when the stone mullions of nearly all the windows were removed and modern glass and wooden sashes inserted. The thing seems so wanton and so useless that it is difficult to understand, in these days of reversion to type. A gas-lamp and bracket had at the same time been fixed to the doorway, defacing the stonework, and where alterations of this kind had not taken place, injury of another sort arose from the greater part of the inn being unoccupied and the rest degraded to little above the condition of an ale-house.

All the ancient features have been reinstated, and a general restoration effected, under the advice of experts, and in the “Lygon Arms” of to-day you see a house typical of an old English inn of the seventeenth century.

There is the Cromwell Room, so named from a tradition that the Protector slept in it the night before the Battle of Worcester. It is now a sitting-room. A great carved stone fireplace is the chief feature of that apartment, whose beautiful plaster ceiling is also worthy of notice. There is even a tradition that Charles the First visited the inn on two or three occasions; but no details of either his, or Cromwell’s, visits, survive.

Quaint, unexpected corners, lobbies and staircases abound here, and ancient fittings are found, even in the domestic kitchen portion of the house. In the entrance-hall is some very old carved oak from Chipping Campden church, with an inscription no man can read; while, to keep company with the undoubtedly indigenous old oak panelling of the so-called “Panelled Room,” and others, elaborate ancient firebacks and open grates have been introduced—the spoil of curiosity shops. Noticeable among these are the ornate fireback in the Cromwell Room and the very fine specimen of a wrought-iron chimney-crane in the ingle-nook of a cosy corner by the entrance.

While it would be perhaps too much to say that Broadway and the “Lygon Arms” are better known to and appreciated by touring Americans than by our own people, they are certainly visited very largely by travellers from the United States during the summer months; the fame of Broadway having spread over-sea very largely on account of the resident American artist-colony and Madame de Navarro, who as Mary Anderson—“our Mary”—figured prominently on the stage, some years since.

http://www.google.com/search?q=52.0360300,-1.8608397

 

 

 

Lygon Arms Hotel Fireplace

The Bell, Tewkesbury

When the author of John Halifax, Gentleman, who had many years before become Mrs. Craik, died, in 1887, a monument was fittingly erected to her memory in Tewkesbury Abbey Church, hard by the home of her hero.

The “Bell” inn is a beautiful old building, of strongly contrasted very white plaster and very black timbers. A blue and gold bell hangs out as a sign in front. At the left-hand side an addition has quite recently been made (not included in the illustration) to provide a billiard-room and additional bedrooms.

http://www.google.com/search?q=51.9908123,-2.1615477

Other Tewkesbury Inns and The Wheatsheaf, Tewkesbury

For the rest, Tewkesbury is a town full of ancient buildings, built in those dark times of the warring Roses, when men were foolish enough to fight—and to die and to lose all—for their principles. Savage, barbaric times, happily gone for ever, to give place to the era of argument and the amateur lawyer! In our own age you do not go forth and kill or be killed, but simply “passively resist” and await the advent of the bailiffs coming to distrain for the amount of your unpaid rates and taxes, confident that, in any change of government, your party will in its turn be able to enact the petty tyrant.

In those times, when men fought well, they built with equal sturdiness, and the memory of their deeds beside the Avon meadows, in the bloody Battle of Tewkesbury of 1471, survives, side by side with the fine black-and-white timbered houses they designed and framed, and will survive centuries yet.

Tewkesbury is a town of inns. The “Hop Pole,” among the largest of them, is a Dickensian inn, and so treated of in another chapter; but besides it you have the great red-brick Georgian “Swan,” typically a coaching hostelry, that is not quite sure of the titles “inn,” “hotel,” or “tavern,” and so, to be certain, calls itself, in the boldest of lettering, “Swan Hotel, Inn, and Tavern,” and thus has it all ways.

Probably the oldest inn of Tewkesbury is the “Berkeley Arms.” There it stands in the High Street, as sturdily as ever, and is in every timber, every casement, and in all the circumstances of uneven flooring and tortuous stairways, so indubitably ancient that men who fought on Yorkist or Lancastrian side in those contested meads by Severn and Avon in 1471 may well have slept beneath its roof the night before the battle, and considered the place, even then, “old-fashioned.” Its age is so evident that for the sign to proclaim it, as it does, in the modern pseudo-antique Wardour Street style, “Ye olde Berkeley Arms,” is an impertinent inadequacy, comparable to calling the Pyramids “large” or the Alps “hills.” It is much the same tale with the “Wheatsheaf”; a little less hoary, perhaps, and certainly more susceptible to pictorial treatment. It latterly has become “Ye,” instead of “The,” Wheatsheaf, and has assumed a redundant “e” or so; but the equally old neighbouring “Black Bear” fairly revels in the antique, and on a quite new sign-board proclaims itself to be “Ye Olde Blacke Beare.” What a prodigal and immoral consumption of that already poor, overworked letter “e,” already, as every compositor working at case knows, the greatest in demand of all the twenty-six letters of the alphabet!

http://www.google.com/search?q=51.9936360,-2.1571653

 

The Feathers, Ludlow

Turn we now to Shropshire, to that sweet and gracious old town of Ludlow, where—albeit ruined—the great Castle of the Lords Presidents of the Council of the Marches of Wales yet stands, and where many an ancient house belonging to history fronts on to the quiet streets: some whose antique interiors are altogether unsuspected of the passer-by, by reason of the Georgian red-brick fronts or Early Victorian plaster faces that have masked the older and sturdier construction of oaken beams. I love the old town of Ludlow, as needs I must do, for it is the home of my forbears, who, certainly since the days of Elizabeth, when the registers of the Cathedral-like church of St. Lawrence begin, lived there and worked there in what was their almost invariable handicraft of joining and cabinet-making, until quite recent years.

The finest old timber-fronted, black-and-white house in Ludlow is the “Feathers” inn, in Corve Street. There are many ancient and picturesque hostelries in England, but none finer than the “Feathers,” and it is additionally remarkable for being as exquisite within as without. You see its nodding gables and peaked roofs among the earliest of the beautiful things of Ludlow, as you come from the railway-station and ascend the steep Corve Street, that leads out of the town, into Corve Dale.

Very little is known of the history of the “Feathers.” The earliest deed relating to the property is dated August 2nd, 1609, when it appears to have been leased from a member of the Council of the Marches, one Edward Waties of Burway, by Rees Jones and Isabel, his wife. Ten years later, March 10th, 1618-9, Rees Jones purchased the fee-simple of the house from Edward Waties and his wife, Martha: other parties to the transaction being Sir Charles Foxe, of Bromfield, and his son Francis, respectively father and brother of Martha Waties. The purchase price of the freehold was £225. In neither of those transactions is the house called the “Feathers,” or even referred to as an inn; nor do we know whether Rees Jones purchased the existing house, or an older one, on this site. It seems probable, however, that this is the[Pg 22] original mansion of some personage connected with the ancient government of the Welsh marches, or perhaps the “town house” of the Foxes of Bromfield in those times when every Shropshire squire of wealth and standing repaired for a season every year with his family from his country seat to Shrewsbury or Ludlow; the two resorts of Society in those days when London, in the toils, dangers, and expenses of travelling, was so far removed that it was a place to be seen but once or twice in a lifetime.

Rees Jones seems to have remodelled the mansion as an inn, and there is every likelihood that he named it the “Feathers” in honour of Henry, Prince of Wales, elder brother of Charles the First, who died in 1612; or perhaps in celebration of Prince Charles being, in his stead, created Prince of Wales, in 1616, when there were great rejoicings in Ludlow, and masques in “The Love of Wales to their Sovereign Prince.” How more loyal could one be—and how more certain to secure custom at such a juncture—than to name one’s inn after the triply feathered badge of a popular Prince?

The door of the “Feathers” appears to be the original entrance of Rees Jones’ day. No prospect of unwelcome visitors bursting through that substantial oak, reinforced by the three hundred and fifty or so iron studs that rather grimly spangle the surface of it, in defensive constellation. Even the original hinges remain, terminated decoratively by wrought-iron fleurs-de-lys. The initials of [Pg 23]Rees Jones himself—R.I.—are cut in the lock-plate.

The “Feathers” was the local “Grand Hotel” or “Metropole” of that day, and was the resort of the best, as may be perceived by the ancient fittings and decorations, carried out in all the perfection possible to that time. From the oak-panelled hall you proceed upstairs to the principal room, the Large Dining-Room, looking out, through lozenge-paned windows, upon the ancient carved-oak balcony overhanging the street.

It is a handsome room, with elaborately decorated ceiling. In the centre is a device, in raised plaster, of the Royal Arms of the reign of James the First, surrounded by a star-like design of grapes and vines, decoratively treated; showing, together with the free repetition of grapes and vine-tendrils over other portions of the ceiling, that this symbolic decorative work was executed especially for the inn, and not for the house in any former existence as a private residence.

The carved oak overmantel, in three compartments, with a boldly rendered representation of the Royal arms and supporters of Lion and Unicorn, is contemporary with the ceiling, and there is no reason to doubt it having been made for the place it occupies, in spite of the tradition that tells of its coming from the Castle when that historic fortress and palace was shamefully dismantled in the reign of George the Third. The room is panelled throughout.

Everything else is in keeping, but it should not—and could not—be supposed that the Jacobean-style and Chippendale furniture is of any old local association. Indeed, there are many in Ludlow who remember the time when the “Feathers” was furnished, neither comfortably nor artistically, with Early Victorian horse-hair stuffed chairs and sofas of the most atrocious type. It has been reserved for later days to be more appreciative of the value and desirability of having all things, as far as possible, in keeping with the age of the house.

Thus, we are not to think the fireback in this dining-room an old belonging of the inn. It is, indeed, ancient, and bears the perfectly genuine Lion and Dragon supporters and the arms of Queen Elizabeth, but it was purchased at the Condover Hall sale, in 1897.

The Small Dining-room is panelled with oak, dark with age, to the ceiling, and the Jacobean carved work enriching the fireplace is only less elaborate than that of the larger dining-room. The old grate and Flemish fireback, although also genuine antiques, were acquired in London, in 1898; but an old carved panel over the door, bearing the arms of Foxe and Hacluit, two Shropshire families prominent in the seventeenth century, is in its original place. The impaled arms are interesting examples of “canting,” or punning, heraldry: three foxes’ heads indicating the one family, and “three hatchets proper” that of Hacluit, or “Hackeluit,” as it was sometimes written. The shield of arms is flanked[Pg 25] on either side by a representation of a “water-bouget.”

Further upstairs, the bedroom floors slope at distinct angles, in sympathy with the bending gables without.

http://www.google.com/search?q=52.3685459,-2.7175595

Feathers Hotel Fireplace 

Feathers Hotel Ceiling Plaster Moulding

 

DY24008 Burbage Plots - Stratford V01 060324

When I wrote my Domesday Book (2021) I wrote one brief section on Boroughs ( Section 6.1) acknowledging the way they were evolving but not detailing the subject of Burbage Plots. It has taken a night spent in the Hotel Indigo, Stratford Upon Avon, United Kingdom, previously and rightly called The Falcon Inn, to remind me of the importance of these plots both back in 1086 but also the way they have allowed for the current economic success of Stratford Upon Avon.

A burgage plot refers to a specific type of land tenure that was prevalent in medieval Towns across England where these plots were long and narrow strips of land extending back from a main street. This design maximized the number of properties with street frontage which were used to support highly valuable commercial activities. The front part of a burgage plot, which directly faced the street, was typically utilised for business purposes, such as shops, workshops, or taverns. Behind these commercial fronts, the plot would often include living quarters, along with gardens or small yards.

 In the case of the Hotel Indigo this was originally a tavern called the Falcon Inn with the plot of land behind it now supporting gardens, a new accommodation block and a multistorey car park. So these Burbage Plots have allowed for the establishment of large businesses right in the centre of the Stratford town without the frontages being impacted. This huge economic growth without impacting the frontages is illustrated in my Tour Guide To Stratford Upon Avon book where the pencil sketches of Joseph Pike in 1929, compared to up to date photographs (2020), show out of 24 sketches only one possibly two are unrecognizable. So hotels, public houses, supermarkets, restaurants and homes have now in Stratford infilled most of these original burbage plots. This has allowed Stratford to economically thrive and cater for the tourist influx without destroying the original historic theme of the frontages. Lets hope the local planners always look to uphold these principles in all future projects.

I have included some photographs below taken on Sunday 3^rd March 2024 of the Hotel Indigo (Falcon Hotel) and their now commercially developed Burbage Plot.

View of the new Hotel  Indigo accommodation block built 

on the Burbage Plot. Looking down the garden 

from the rear of the original Falcon Inn. 

A view from the new Accommodation Block built on the Burgage Plot .

Looking towards the gardens occupying the Burgage Plot 

at the rear of the original Falcon Inn.  

A rooftop view over Guild Chapel from the new Hotel Indigo 

accommodation block sited on the Burbage Plot. 

The Black and White roofed section in the middle of the picture 

is part of the Falcon Inn that has a frontage on Scholars Lane. 

Front Corner View of the Falcon Inn looking up

Chapel Street with Scholars Lane 

(See the Road Sign on the wall by the Blue Arrow sign) 

directly to the left where part of the frontage of the Falcon Inn is sited.

The main frontage to the Falcon Inn along Chapel Street.

The Falcon Inn Historical Plaque sited in the pavement 

outside the Falcon Inn in Chapel Street.

I have copied the information below from the ruralhistoria.com website but really encourage you to visit their site using the link I provide below. The reason I have taken a copy is too often these days I link to a valuable web resource only to find that it has disappeared overnight. You cannot guarantee any websites will remain in existence so by copying the relevant content at least you retain the information.

These links should provide with some further background with the Amazon ones on this occasion requiring you to purchase my books.

http://www.ruralhistoria.com

http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/0950871869

http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/0950871877

Please Note : If you use the Amazon Links there is not always a return option from Amazon directly back to this Google blog. I find, like you will, this is very unsatisfactory.  

Burbage Plots Article copied from ruralhistoria.com webite. Copyright Acknowledged.  

What is a Medieval Burgage Plot?

Johnny Scott-Walker  December 4, 2023

A burgage plot refers to a specific type of land tenure that was prevalent in medieval towns and cities across England and parts of Europe.

These plots were characteristically long and narrow strips of land, extending back from a main street or market place. This design maximized the number of properties with street frontage, which was highly valuable for commercial activities in bustling urban centers.

The front part of a burgage plot, which directly faced the street, was typically utilised for business purposes, such as shops, workshops, or taverns. Behind these commercial fronts, the plot would often include living quarters, along with gardens or small yards.

Burgage plots were rented from a Lord or the King under a leasehold arrangement, with the Tenant, known as a Burgess, paying rent in cash. This system was distinct from the agricultural feudal system and was a key feature of the urban landscape in medieval times.

 

Please Note

Links from these Content Headings below have been deliberately left in place back to the https://ruralhistroria.com website so they can benefit from you viewing them this way and increasing their readership statistics. But you can just carry on reading the content below in this blog if you prefer that way of receiving your content. 

Contents

·       What is a Burgage Plot

·       Location and Size

·       Tenure and Rights

·       Legal Implications

·       Transition and Decline

Holding a burgage plot often conferred certain rights and privileges, including the right to trade in the town’s market and, in some cases, a role in the town’s governance. Burgage plots were instrumental in the growth and development of medieval towns, reflecting the transition towards a more commercial and less feudal society.

Burgage plots were characteristically long and narrow, but pressure to subdivide land on account of prosperity and population growth resulted in subdivision of plots making them smaller as you can see in the top right-hand corner of the image. © Birmingham Museums

What is a Burgage Plot

In medieval England, the concept of burgage plots was central to the growth and structure of towns, reflecting the socio-economic transformations of the era. The medieval period, particularly from the 12th century onwards, witnessed a significant expansion and development of towns, driven by a burgeoning trade economy and the gradual decline of feudalism.

These towns, often emerging around strategic points such as river crossings, castles, or along key trade routes, began to see a more organised approach to urban planning. The burgage plot system played a crucial role in this. Land within these towns was divided into plots (burgages) that were rented out to townsmen, known as burgesses. These individuals were typically merchants, craftsmen, or other professionals who played a crucial role in the urban economy.

Behind the shop would be a “fold and garth”. A “fold” is an area for keep animals and a “garth” is another name for a garden. Food stuffs were often grown in the garths.

 

The layout of these medieval towns was markedly linear, with the main streets forming the backbone, flanked by rows of burgage plots. This arrangement facilitated the formation of a bustling market area, often near a town hall or a prominent religious institution, reflecting the combined focus on commerce, governance, and religion.

Burgage Plots were Vibrant and Diverse

One key aspect of these medieval towns was their relative autonomy and self-governance, a significant shift from the rigid structures of feudalism. The residents of these towns, especially the burgesses, often enjoyed privileges not found in rural areas. These included rights to trade freely, exemption from certain tolls, and, in some cases, the ability to self-govern through a Town Council or Guild.

Socially and architecturally, medieval towns with their burgage plots were vibrant and diverse. The plots themselves, while standard in their long, narrow design, often housed a variety of structures – from simple workshops and dwellings to more elaborate houses and storefronts for wealthier merchants. Over time, as the towns prospered, some burgage plots became sites for larger, more ornate buildings, showcasing the wealth and status of their owners.

Moreover, the nature of these towns as hubs of trade and craftsmanship meant they were often cosmopolitan in character, attracting people from various regions and even countries. This diversity contributed to the rich cultural and social tapestry of medieval urban life.

Location and Size of a Burgage Plot

The location and size of burgage plots were intrinsic to the structural design of medieval towns across England and Europe, reflecting a thoughtful approach to urban planning during that period.

These plots, characteristically long and narrow, were strategically positioned to maximise their utility and accessibility within the confines of urban spaces.

The long and narrow burgage plots are seen running away at right angles from the street, Callander, Stirling, Scotland.

 

Nestled within the heart of medieval towns, burgage plots commonly fronted the main streets or marketplaces, aligning themselves with the central hubs of commerce and social interaction. This prime positioning was not only pivotal for the burgesses, who owned or rented these plots, but also for the economic vitality of the town itself.

By facing the bustling streets, these plots ensured direct access to the town’s commercial lifeblood, facilitating trade and commerce. Their proximity to markets and fairs, integral to the town’s economy, allowed the occupants easy participation in these commercial activities.

Capitalising on the Footfall

The unique shape of these plots – slender and elongated – was a pragmatic response to the limited urban space available within medieval towns, often constrained by defensive walls or natural geographical features. This design allowed a greater number of properties to have frontage on the main streets, maximising the use of available space.

The narrow street-facing end of the plot was typically devoted to commercial enterprises such as shops, workshops, or taverns, capitalising on the footfall and visibility provided by the street. Moving back from the street, the plot would often extend into residential areas, gardens, and occasionally small agricultural or livestock spaces, providing a multifaceted utility to the land.

Over time, as towns expanded and urban life became more dynamic, the use of these plots evolved. Some became entirely commercial, responding to the growing economic activities of the towns, while others retained their mixed-use character, reflecting the changing needs and developments of urban living.

Tenure and Rights

In the context of medieval English towns, the tenure and rights associated with burgage plots were significant elements that shaped the social and economic fabric of urban life. The system of burgage tenure was a defining characteristic of these plots, denoting a specific type of landholding that was critical to the growth and governance of medieval towns.

Old burgage plots pick up on LiDAR

 

Burgage tenure was a form of leasehold, where the occupant, known as a burgess, rented a plot of land (the burgage) from a Lord, typically the King or a Noble.

This arrangement was distinct from the feudal system prevalent in the countryside, as it involved paying rent in cash rather than through agricultural services or labour. This monetary transaction signified a shift towards a more commercial and monetary-based economy, a departure from the agrarian feudal economy.

The rights conferred by holding a burgage were substantial and multifaceted. Firstly, burgesses were often granted the right to trade within the town, particularly in the market, which was crucial for their commercial enterprises. This right to trade was a significant privilege, enabling the burgesses to engage in various business activities and contribute to the town’s economic vitality.

Lord’s Court

Additionally, burgage tenure often came with certain legal rights and protections. Burgesses typically enjoyed a degree of legal autonomy, with the right to be tried in the Town’s Court rather than the Lord’s Court.

This autonomy was a crucial aspect of the emerging urban identity and governance. In many towns, the collective body of burgesses could gain significant self-governing privileges, leading to the formation of a Borough.

In such cases, the burgesses could have a say in the administration of the town, sometimes electing their officials or forming a town council.

The closes (passageways) off Edinburgh’s Royal Mile follow the lines of the old burgage plots

Furthermore, the status of being a burgess often extended beyond legal and commercial rights. It was a mark of social standing within the community, distinguishing the burgesses from other residents in the town. This status could entail additional responsibilities and privileges, such as participating in the town’s defence or being eligible for certain communal benefits.

They facilitated the growth of a merchant and artisan class, fostered the development of market economies, and contributed to the emergence of self-governance and legal autonomy in urban centres. These plots and their associated rights were crucial in the transition from feudalism to a more recognisably modern urban society.

Legal Implications

The legal implications of burgage plots in medieval English towns were profound, reflecting the evolving nature of urban governance and law during this period. The system of burgage tenure, which defined these plots, had significant legal ramifications not just for the individual burgesses but also for the collective governance and autonomy of the towns themselves.

One of the most notable legal implications of burgage plots was the establishment and enhancement of Borough status for many towns.

As the medieval population grew more plots were needed, so some would be sub-divided. As time went on ownership would change, and some plots would be combined

Towns with a high concentration of burgage plots often evolved into Boroughs, a status that conferred a degree of self-governance. This development was pivotal in the gradual shift away from the feudal system, as it allowed towns to exercise a level of autonomy previously unheard of in rural areas.

Burgesses, as leaseholders of these plots, were often at the forefront of this transition, playing key roles in the administration and decision-making processes within the town.

Rural Legal Landscape

The legal autonomy afforded to burgage holders was also significant. In many instances, towns with burgage tenure had their Courts, separate from the Manorial Courts that dominated the rural legal landscape.

These urban courts, often comprised of and presided over by fellow burgesses, dealt with matters pertinent to urban life, such as trade disputes, property issues, and local ordinances. This judicial autonomy not only expedited legal matters by dealing with them locally but also reinforced the sense of community and collective responsibility among the town’s inhabitants.

Furthermore, the legal framework surrounding burgage plots often allowed for a more organised and systematic approach to property rights and inheritance within the town.

Burgage plots were typically heritable, meaning they could be passed down through generations. This continuity contributed to the stability and long-term planning in urban development and allowed families to establish and maintain businesses over extended periods.

View of Warkworth from the castle. The land to the right of the street was the long, narrow burgage plots, many of which soon became built-up. Image Credit: Humphrey Bolton

Another legal aspect was the regulation and standardisation of rents and duties associated with these plots. While burgesses were required to pay rent for their plots, these were often fixed and regulated, offering a degree of economic stability and predictability.

In some cases, the collective bargaining power of the burgesses could be used to negotiate terms with the Lord or the King, further illustrating the growing power and influence of urban communities.

This system laid the groundwork for the evolution of more modern forms of urban governance and law, marking a significant shift in the societal and legal landscape of medieval England.

Transition and Decline

As the Middle Ages progressed towards the Renaissance and beyond, several factors contributed to the gradual decline of the traditional burgage plot system. One of the key changes was the gradual dissolution of the feudal system, which had underpinned much of medieval society and land tenure.

With the weakening of feudalism, the rigid structures that defined burgage tenure began to loosen, giving way to more flexible and diverse forms of landholding and property ownership.

The growth and expansion of towns and cities also played a crucial role in the transition away from burgage plots. As urban areas grew, both in size and population, the demand for space and the nature of urban land use changed.

A classic burgage pattern depicted on a 19th-century map. This sequence of burgages has since been displaced by modern developments

The long, narrow burgage plots, ideal for a certain stage of urban development, became less suitable for the evolving needs of burgeoning cities. This change was particularly evident in the layout and architecture of newer districts, which often did not adhere to the traditional burgage plot pattern.

Economic changes also influenced the decline of burgage plots. The rise of capitalism and the shift towards a market-driven economy saw a move away from the more communal and regulated economic practices of the medieval period. This shift was reflected in the changing patterns of property ownership and land use in urban areas.

Legacy of the Burgage Plot

The legal and administrative reforms that swept through England in the post-medieval period further contributed to the decline of the burgage system.

As legal systems became more centralized and standardized, the local and communal legal practices associated with burgage tenure and Borough governance became less relevant. New forms of municipal governance emerged, changing the way towns and cities were administered.

Despite their decline, the legacy of burgage plots remained visible in the layout of many historic towns and cities, where the medieval street patterns and property boundaries continued to influence urban form.

In some places, remnants of the burgage plot system survived in the form of long, narrow properties that trace their origins back to medieval times.

The transition and decline of burgage plots in England were gradual processes, influenced by a combination of socio-economic, legal, and urban development factors.

While the traditional burgage system eventually gave way to newer forms of land tenure and urban layout, its impact on the development of English towns and cities left a lasting imprint on the urban landscape. If you know where to look, you can see their footprint to this day.