MANCHESTER is famed as one of Britain’s great Victorian cities. It harbors some remarkable surprises, however, from its earlier history. At the north end of the City centre is an exceptionally fine late medieval parish church, now the cathedral. Just to the north of this is an enclave of late medieval college buildings that once housed the priests who served the church. Today, it is home to Chetham’s School and Library, one of the oldest charitable institutions, and the oldest public library, in Britain.
Manchester in the late Middle Ages was a compact, but prosperous town, sitting on rising ground in the angle formed by the junction of two rivers, the Irk and Irwell. The manor house of the De Gresley family, lords of the manor, probably stood on the highest spot, 40ft above the nearby River Irk, and traces of three successive lines of defensive ditches have been found, centred on this site. On the death of Thomas Gresley in 1313, the manor passed to his sister Joan and, through her husband, into the hands of the de la Warre family. John, 4th Lord de la Warre, had no children and, on his death in 1398, was succeeded by his brother Thomas, a clergyman.
Thomas held the rectories of Manchester and nearby Ashton-under-Lyne and, in 1421, used his considerable wealth to found an independently endowed community or college of priests that would serve the former church. It comprised a warden or master, eight priests, four clerks, and six choristers. In 1534, the college had revenues of £40 5s 3d from lands and £186 7s 2d from tithes. Reflecting the resurgent fortunes of Henry V’s claims to the French throne, and the stirring nationalism of the moment, the parish church was re-dedicated to St Mary, St Denis (patron saint of France) and St George.
Denne historien er fra January 15, 2020-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Denne historien er fra January 15, 2020-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Save our family farms
IT Tremains to be seen whether the Government will listen to the more than 20,000 farming people who thronged Whitehall in central London on November 19 to protest against changes to inheritance tax that could destroy countless family farms, but the impact of the good-hearted, sombre crowds was immediate and positive.
A very good dog
THE Spanish Pointer (1766–68) by Stubbs, a landmark painting in that it is the artist’s first depiction of a dog, has only been exhibited once in the 250 years since it was painted.
The great astral sneeze
Aurora Borealis, linked to celestial reindeer, firefoxes and assassinations, is one of Nature's most mesmerising, if fickle displays and has made headlines this year. Harry Pearson finds out why
'What a good boy am I'
We think of them as the stuff of childhood, but nursery rhymes such as Little Jack Horner tell tales of decidedly adult carryings-on, discovers Ian Morton
Forever a chorister
The music-and way of living-of the cabaret performer Kit Hesketh-Harvey was rooted in his upbringing as a cathedral chorister, as his sister, Sarah Sands, discovered after his death
Best of British
In this collection of short (5,000-6,000-word) pen portraits, writes the author, 'I wanted to present a number of \"Great British Commanders\" as individuals; not because I am a devotee of the \"great man, or woman, school of history\", but simply because the task is interesting.' It is, and so are Michael Clarke's choices.
Old habits die hard
Once an antique dealer, always an antique dealer, even well into retirement age, as a crop of interesting sales past and future proves
It takes the biscuit
Biscuit tins, with their whimsical shapes and delightful motifs, spark nostalgic memories of grandmother's sweet tea, but they are a remarkably recent invention. Matthew Dennison pays tribute to the ingenious Victorians who devised them
It's always darkest before the dawn
After witnessing a particularly lacklustre and insipid dawn on a leaden November day, John Lewis-Stempel takes solace in the fleeting appearance of a rare black fox and a kestrel in hot pursuit of a pipistrelle bat
Tarrying in the mulberry shade
On a visit to the Gainsborough Museum in Sudbury, Suffolk, in August, I lost my husband for half an hour and began to get nervous. Fortunately, an attendant had spotted him vanishing under the cloak of the old mulberry tree in the garden.