The Evolution of an English Town | Page 3

[Footnote 1: C.R.L. Fletcher in his "History of England" tells us that
townsmen of the thirteenth century were wont to brand their brethren in
all the neighbouring towns as "foreigners." Those we call foreigners,
they called aliens. The expression itself was made use of not long ago
at a meeting of the Urban Council.]
[Footnote 2: R.B. Cunninghame Graham, "Hernando de Soto."]
May the venture to compass these ends succeed, to use an old saying,
"ez sartin ez t' thorn-bush."[1]
[Footnote 1: It used to be the custom for the parson to collect the tithe
by placing a branch of thorn in every tenth stook; he choosing the
stooks and sending his cart along for them. R. Blakeborough,
"Yorkshire Humour and Customs."]
E.W.D.
The Vicarage, Pickering.
_25th September_ 1904.

THE EVOLUTION
OF AN
ENGLISH TOWN

CHAPTER I
Concerning those which follow "Brother," quod he, "where is now
youre dwellyng, Another day if that I sholde you seche?" This yeman
hym answerde, in softe speche: "Brother," quod he, "fer in the north
contree, Where as I hope som tyme I shal thee see."
_The Friar's Tale. Chaucer._

In the North Riding of Yorkshire, there is a town of such antiquity that
its beginnings are lost far away in the mists of those times of which no
written records exist. What this town was originally called, it is
impossible to say, but since the days of William the Norman (a
pleasanter sounding name than "the Conqueror,") it has been
consistently known as Pickering, although there has always been a
tendency to spell the name with y's and to abandon the c, thus
producing the curious-looking result of _Pykeryng_; its sound,
however was the same.
In his Chronicles, John Stow states on the authority of "divers writers"
that Pickering was built in the year 270 B.C., but I am inclined to think
that the earliest settlements on the site or in the neighbourhood of the
present town must have been originated at an infinitely earlier period.
But despite its undisputed antiquity there are many even in Yorkshire
who have never heard of the town, and in the south of England it is
difficult to find anyone who is aware that such a place exists. At
Rennes during the great military trial there was a Frenchman who asked
"Who is Dreyfus?" and we were surprised at such ignorance of a name
that had been on the lips of all France for years, but yet we discover
ourselves to be astonishingly lacking in the knowledge of our own little
island and find ourselves asking "why should anyone trouble to write a
book about a town of which so few have even heard?" But it is often in
the out-of-the-way places that historical treasures are preserved, and it
is mainly for this reason and the fact that the successive periods of
growth are so well demonstrated there, that the ancient town of
Pickering has been selected to illustrate the evolution of an English
town.
I have endeavoured to produce a complete series of pictures
commencing with the Ice Age and finishing at the dawn of the
twentieth century. In the earlier chapters only a rough outline is
possible, but as we come down the centuries and the records become
more numerous and varied, fuller details can be added to the pictures of
each age, and we may witness how much or how little the great series
of dynastic, constitutional, religious and social changes effected a

district that is typical of many others in the remoter parts of England.
[Illustration: Pickering from the North-West.]
Built on sloping ground that rises gently from the rich, level pastures of
the Vale of Pickering, the town has a picturesque and pleasant site. At
the top of the market-place where the ground becomes much steeper
stands the church, its grey bulk dominating every view. From all over
the Vale one can see the tall spire, and from due east or west it has a
surprising way of peeping over the hill tops. It has even been suggested
that the tower and spire have been a landmark for a very long time,
owing to the fact that where the hills and formation of the ground do
not obstruct the view, or make road-making difficult, the roads make
straight for the spire.
With few exceptions the walls of the houses are of the same
weather-beaten limestone as the church and the castle, but seen from
above the whole town is transformed into a blaze of red, the curved
tiles of the locality retaining their brilliant hue for an indefinite period.
Only a very few thatched roofs remain to-day, but the older folks
remember when most of the houses were covered in that picturesque
fashion.
Pickering has thus lost its original uniform greyness, relieved