July 2002
Parish
History Episode 16
The Parish System
Alfred the Great is remembered as the king who saved
England (or at least Wessex) from the Danes. It was, however, his
successors - Edward, Athelstan, Edred - who, as we saw in last month’s
article, extended their power over all the rest of England, and who
drove the Danes out of this country (but much of Scotland and Ireland
still remained under Norse rule). Edred had killed Eric Bloodaxe,
and had at last brought all Northumbria under Saxon rule.
Their era had been full of wars, but more peaceful times came with
the reign of King Edgar “the Peaceable”, from 959 to 975.
His is a reign that has been almost forgotten. Of course, a king who
chooses to be remembered by such an epithet as “the Peaceable”
can hardly expect to get much mention in the history books. It was
a thoroughly boring period, with no great wars or rebellions or assassinations
or plagues, or anything for historians to write about.
But it was during this period that English church life was brought
back to something like the splendour that it had displayed before
the Viking onslaught: indeed, it began to develop on more systematic
and effective lines than it had known before the invasions. There
may have been the beginnings of a development of parish churches in
parts of Southern England by the early Ninth Century, but hardly any
system of parishes existed in the North. But with the conquest of
the North by the South, the system began to spread throughout England.
Hitherto, the Church in Northumbria had still, in many ways, been
a monastic church, as had been the Celtic Church which had preceded
it. The great abbeys, like those at Gateshead, Monkchester (now Newcastle),
Tynemouth, Jarrow, South Shields, Monkwearmouth and Hartlepool, had
been the centre of religious life in their areas, and though the monks
were disciplined Benedictines rather than Celtic charismatics, they
still tended to be the chief purveyors of Christian rites and sacraments
to the people. Folk preferred to say their confessions to a monk rather
than to a “secular” priest, serving a church built by
a thane for the supposed benefit of “his” peasants, and
they liked to carry their bairns to the nearest abbey to be christened,
and likewise the bodies of their dead, to be interred in the abbey
grounds.
However, the thanes, the local lords, were beginning to build and
endow local churches on their land, so that the sacraments could be
celebrated locally. They might still take their own children, and
their dead kindred, to the abbey, for baptism or a funeral service,
but they did not wish to see their servants and peasants taking one
or more days off work, whenever there was a birth or a death in the
family, and walking away to a distant abbey for the service, when
there was a church and a priest in the village, who could provide
them with the same rites, with only an hour or two’s interruption
of their normal duties. A “Time and Motion” man would
have agreed with their attempts to raise productivity.
Originally the local priest, “the thane’s priest”,
would say Mass in his master’s private chapel, and would also
preach to the peasantry, on the village green, perhaps under an oak
tree - a tree which might once have witnessed pagan rites - but at
a later stage, the thane would probably build a simple wooden church
for his priest, so that Mass could be said and heard in comfort in
an English winter.
Such churches have not of course survived. But later stone churches
might be built upon their foundations, already consecrated. And, as
was mentioned in the January issue of “Signpost” (in the
article “Churches of Stone”), a number of stone-built
churches had been built in the Seventh Century, particularly at monastic
sites, such as St. Paul’s, Jarrow, or St. Peter’s, Monkwearmouth,
but also in King Oswy’s “new townships”, such as
Escomb and (old) Seaham (St. Mary’s Church). Most of these had
been destroyed by the Vikings (they seem to have missed Escomb), but
the churches were now (early Tenth Century) being rebuilt. To these
were added several new, much larger, stone churches, which seem to
have acted as “Collegiate Churches”, served by several
priests, who between them gave extra back-up to the local churches
built by the thanes. Some of these collegiate churches were served
by monks - e.g., Jarrow, Wearmouth, Hart village (replacing St. Hilda’s,
Hartlepool, not yet rebuilt), and Staindrop; while the cathedral church
at Chester-le-Street was also served by monks (of “the Family
of Saint Cuthbert”); while yet others, at Norton (now a suburb
of Stockton-on-Tees) and Billingham, seem to have been new foundations,
and to have been served by “secular” priests.
Possibly in these arrangements we can detect the first signs of the
later “rural deaneries” into which this and other dioceses
would be divided: the nuclei of our neighbouring Deaneries of Chester-le-Street,
Jarrow and Wearmouth, all in the North-East of Durham Diocese, were
already in place, while in the South-East of the Diocese, one can
discern the beginnings of the Deaneries of Hartlepool and Stockton.
But there was no sign of any collegiate churches - or, for that matter,
any churches at all - in what are now the Deaneries of Houghton-le-Spring
and Easington. This area was still the waste land, not yet recovered
from Halfdane’s devastation of the land.
This investment in the things of the Kingdom of Heaven of course cost
money, and at the start the cost of it all was borne by the thane.
He gave the land, built the church, found the priest, and appointed
and paid him (though of course the bishop ordained him and instituted
him), and, if he thought better of it, perhaps dismissed the priest,
and even reduced him to bondage again (he was often in origin a thrall,
who had begun his vocation as an altar-boy for his predecessor, and
who had then been raised to the priest-hood on the death of his teacher).
All this was regarded as scandalous by Church reformers, and the bishops
fought hard for the rights of their priests, and gradually a concept
of what would be known as “parson’s freehold” began
to evolve, and priests came to be undismissable by patrons. This not
only made life easier for spiritual (and also for lazy) priests, but
it tended to benefit the peasants, out of whose ranks the priest had
come. They began to be able to look to their priest for support in
the things of this world, as well as for godly counsel and spiritual
guidance in the things of the next world.
In order to maintain this parochial system in working order, worldly
wealth was required, and one could not always rely on the generosity
of the thane, or patron, and his descendants, especially if the priest
denied him what he saw as his rights. Part of the resources needed
to support the priest came from the glebe land, originally a gift
from the patron, which was his private farm, worked by himself, and
which provided the fare for his table. There were, however, more important
needs for the Church than feeding the priest and his family, and much
money needed to be forwarded to the bishop, and even to the Pope at
Rome (Peter’s pence), just as we now have to pay our “Parish
Share” to the higher authorities in the Church. To obtain the
money to fulfil these obligations, a complicated range of taxes was
evolved; the most onerous of these was the tithe, a tax of one tenth
of the produce of the land, levied on all crops and livestock, and
based on such Biblical texts as GEN 1420, 2822, LEV 2730, NUMB 1821-26,
DEUT 126-11, 1422-29 and II CHRON 315-21.. There was Biblical warrant
also (LEV 23:9-11, etc.) for the smaller tax of the first fruits of
the harvest, which the Church wished to levy over and above the tithe.
The tithe was meant to be split three ways, one third going directly
to the parish priest, one third being set aside for the maintenance
of the church fabric, and one third for the relief of the poor. If
it had worked out like that, the priest would have found himself a
wealthy man, with one thirtieth of the produce of the village his
own to use as he pleased (and his own glebe farm as well !), and another
thirtieth “banked”, or otherwise stored in his name, for
use on the church building, and another thirtieth in what might be
termed a patronage fund for him to spend on the poor and needy, at
his discretion. But when this was realised, others soon came to relieve
him of the surplus of his wealth, and to enable him to live a life
of honest poverty.
In the majority of parishes the tithes - particularly the Great Tithe,
the tithe on corn - were appropriated to the bishop or an abbot, or
were impropriated by a lay person - a king, an earl, a thane, or,
in later ages, such bodies as merchant guilds. In either case, the
ap/impropriator was required to provide a salaried priest to serve
the village, and this individual became known as a vicar. Generally
his salary, or stipend, was very meagre; for, after all, the vicar
had his glebe land, and various fees, and, if he could collect them,
some lesser tithes. Where the parish priest retained the right to
collect the Great Tithe, he would be much better off in worldly terms,
and would be known as a Rector.
We will later learn that Houghton-le-Spring was, from the point of
view of the incumbent, the Rector, a rich parish, and, in the Mediaeval
period, many greedy clerics, amassing collections of wealthy parishes
which they held as absentees, lived well on the tithes of such parishes
as Houghton, while starveling clerks performed their duties for them.
In 1836 (the same year as the secular, palatine powers of the Bishops
of Durham were abolished by law) the Whig administration abolished
the lesser tithes, and “bought out” the Great Tithe on
corn, replacing it with a harvest tax, most of which was paid over
to the parishes of the Church of England. Grain prices fell greatly
during the Nineteenth Century, as competition opened up with overseas
farmers, and, with reduced tithe payments the Church became much more
dependant on voluntary offerings by its parishioners. Then, after
1918, as described in last month’s “Signpost” (in
an article reprinted from 1936), Parliament gradually phased out tithe
payments altogether, in the hope of reviving British agriculture,
then apparently moribund.
The reason why the Church became for centuries more and more dependent
on the Great Tithe was that it was found, by the Tenth Century, that
this was a tax which was much easier to enforce than most others.
The milling of grain was becoming increasingly mechanised (an early
example, perhaps, of Europe pulling ahead of other continents, through
technological advance), and water-mills were beginning to be found
in almost every village (at Rainton Mill, in the case of Houghton,
as we will discover in the Twelfth-Century Boldon Book: but at this
period, after Halfdane’s march in 875 from Tynemouth to York,
there does not even seem to have been a village at Houghton). Up to
then, grain had been ground into flour tediously by the labour of
one or two slaves, generally women, rubbing the grain between two
quern-stones, a process frequently referred to in the Bible ( EX 11:5,
DEUT 24:6, JOB 41:24, MATT 24:41, or, with a blind male slave, JUDG
16:21). It was hard labour, and the quern-stones became worn out (as
did also, one assumes, slave-women’s bodies), and, long before
there were coal-mining villages in Durham, communities like Quarrington
Hill grew up where millstone of the right quality could be quarried,
to supply the farms, and later the mills, of a wide area with the
means of grinding grain into flour.
The importance of this for tithe collection was that the peasant now
took his corn to the mill to be ground, and the miller also took a
tithe of it (partly for himself, but mostly for the lord, who owned
the mill), and it was an easy task for the miller, who knew exactly
how much corn he was grinding, and the priest, to check that their
tithes were the same, and thus the peasant had difficulty in evading
his obligations.
The Tenth Century thus saw, as England and the rest of Europe began
to recover from Viking raiding, innovations in technology which helped
to make agriculture more prosperous, and also innovations - by the
Church much more than by the frequently illiterate thanes and kings
- in administrative efficiency. England was being incorporated into
new systems of Canon Law, more or less uniform throughout all Western,
or Latin, Christendom. Every acre of inhabited land was now seen as
part of a parish, and that parish part of a diocese. No longer did
people look to the nearest abbey for spiritual leadership.