--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Thomas, Julian M. collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 10 number: 7 published: 1907-05 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: 'Julian M. Thomas, "The Old Mottram Church," *Improvement Era* 10, no. 7 (May 1907): 532–535.' source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1007unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera1007unse start_page: 532 end_page: 535 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1907-05) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1007unse publication_year: 1907 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1907, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # The Old Mottram Church " THE OLD MOTTRAM CHURCH. BY JULIAN M. THOMAS. The Mottram Church is an old and interesting: structure. It stands on a high hill in England and commands a view of the Long- dendale Valley where Robin Hood is said to have strung his bow. The church is reached from the west by several flights of steps. At the bottom of the upper flight is invitingly situated an inn where church-goers may dampen an exceptionally dry sermon with a gill of '"alf an 'alf." I ascended the well-worn blocks of stone of which the steps are made, and came to what first appeared to be a flag- paved church-yard. But the flags are all grave stones, and even those in the pathway bore the names of deceased Englishmen. The graves are not like those in Utah. Here the people are buried one above another, many occupying the same grave. This saves room. Another custom different from ours at home is that of leaving the grave before the coflin is covered up. On some stones the engraving is very indistinct, it having been worn away by rain and by the feet of curious sight-seers. Many of the epitaphs date back to the middle of the seventeenth century. On these I found that "f" was used for "s" and the combination of "s" and "1" looks like an inverted capital "U. One bore the inscription "A. Q.," and the date showed that the gentleman had been resting for two hundred years when the pio- neers entered Salt Lake Valley. The janitor spoke of a stoie which gi>ve an account of a case of "body snatchin'" and on following the piece of coal which he threw to direct me, I found the following suggestive verse: Though once beneath this ground his corpse was laid, For use of surgeons it was then conveyed. THE OLD MOTTRAM CHURCH. 533 Vain was the scheme to hide the impious theft, The body taken— shrowd and coffin left. Ye wretches who pursue this barbarous trade, Your carcases, in time, may be conveyed, Like his, to some unfeeling surgeon's room. Nor can they justly meet a better doom. I was informed that the empty coffin from this grave was hung on a cross in the market place to show the "unfeeling surg- eons" that their "impious crime" was known. Now, instead of the stolen body, the grave contains all that is mortal of his better half. Body stealing, they say, was not an extraordinary occurrence at one time. It was considered a regular business, and new graves had to be watched until the body had become decomposed beyond being useful to the surgeon to insure it against molestation. Some of the old epitaphs are full of meaning. One says: This world is full of crooked streets. Death is a market place where all must meet. If health was merchandise that wealth could buy. The rich would live, and the poor must die. Another: Farewell, vain world, I've seen enough of thee; Therefore am careless what thou tay'st of me, Thy smiles I count not, nor thy frowns I fear; My cares are past, my bones are quiet here. What faults you've seen in me take heed to shun. And look at home, for there's work enough t' be done. The church-yard is gloomy and solemn. The indescribable dreariness is made to remind me of Poe's hideous tales by the tolling of the steeple bell. I almost despair of conveying an idea of its awful sound, for it is more of a moaning out of the hour of the day than the clanging of a tower clock. As an old man, boi'ne down with grief,slowly arises from his chair, in the corner of the darkened room, to answer a knock at the door; so the old bell seems to awake from musing when the minute hand points at twelve, its and then sink mournfully back to await another call to duty. I can hear its cold and death-like sound still, and it seems to pene- trate my bones. Its cheerless note is to me a fitting remind jr 534 IMPROVEMENT ERA. the soulless worship which is often taught beneath the roof of th« venerable and stately edifice. The church was built in the middle of the thirteenth century, and was dedicated to St. Michael. Later on, funds were contrib- uted for its improvement by Edward Shoa, who was Lord Mayor of London in the reign of Richard III, and who is mentioned by Shakespeare in his play of that name. The exterior presents an old and battered appearance. The figures on the eaves can hardly be recognized as figures. Now and then, a discernible face is seen, reminding one that the rest of those projections which have been worn by the weather to mere bumps, must have been, at one time, figures, too. New window frames of sandstone replace those made unserviceable by time. The interior is a repository of old relics, and is distinctly an- cient, with one exception: a modern pulpit of alabaster has been installed, at great expense. Although beautiful, it seems out of place amid its plainer surroundings. A christening font stands near the doorway. I was told that this, which is about four feet high and which resembles a large sandstone mallet, is in use at the present time. It is the only known relic of the church which oc- cupied the present site before this one was built in 1250. Hung near the tower are some shelves in which loaves of bread are re- ceived for the poor, and which bear the notice: . "The gift of Dame Elizabeth Booth to the poor of the parish forever." The date is given as A. D. 1619. Near by, is a list of forty-four clergymen, dating from the year 1300. I noticed a reserved looking room fenced off on two sides by heavy, carved-oak posts, and took it to be the jail where people who had fallen asleep or forgot to say, "Amen," were thrust till after ser:ice. But the guide said it was the private chapel of some "Esquire" who had what seemed to me a "corner" on his religion. He also had a protection against the collection box when his door was locked. But his "private chapel" was very interesting, con- taining the effigy of a knight in armor which an old gentleman later informed me was "Owd Roe." He added that "They recon' 'e were in a worl-wind an it blow'd 'im in the air an' 'e lit about the big cut yonder." Old Roe fared rather badly as all his toes are gone, and though made of stone his face was nearly washed . IHE OLD MOTTRAM CHURCH. 535 away. His trusty steel still hangs from his belt, and he is ac- companied in his solitary abode by his still faithful wife, who lit^s at his side. She has shared her husbands fate, and centuries of weathering has sadly disfigured her also. The effigy represents Sir Ro or Ralf De Stavelegh, a crusader under Richard the Lion Hearted. Tradition says that the knight was once captured by the Saracens and imprisoned in Palestine, but on praying to God, he fell asleep in his cell. On awakening he found himself lying in a green meadow near Mottram Church, having been mysteriously restored to his native land. On leaving the church with its old oak benches, its aislefe- paved with time- bedimmed grave stones, and its mysterious air and atmosphere, which almost make one instinctively look for cob- webs and bats, I noticed where some naughty boy of by-gone ages- had carved on the door "W C 1769." A card on the wall gave some "Hints to those who worship God in this Church:" Be on time, Go straight to Church. Kneel down on your knees. Do not look around every time the door opens. Join in all the prayers and singing and amens. Stand directly the hymns are given out. Do not whisper to your neighbor. Keep y-our thoughts fixed Bow your head at the most holy name of Jesus. If you bring children see that they kneel too. Make almsgiving a regular part of your worship. Pray for those who minister. A note following stated that the congregation should stand iis the Vicar and the choir passed out, then, when they had gone, kneel down and pray for them. Hyde, Cheshire, England, 1907.