Rushing to Tavistock Parish Church

What do you know about rushes? Probably that they are spikey green grass-like plants that grow on damp ground. You may have vague notions that in the past they were useful, but may struggle to pinpoint exactly to what purpose they were put. Fair?

In this blog I am going to focus on rush cultivation in the Tavistock landscape. We will learn, not just why rushes were important but how they need to be considered alongside other more common parts of estate management, like livestock, crops and timber. Of most surprise and significance though, we will learn how these rushes were grown blessed ground near Lamerton and formed part of the spiritual life of Tavistock, being used to celebrate the Feast of the Nativity of St John the Baptist.

Evidence of Ceremonial Rush Cultivation Near Lamerton

Recently I have been scanning through a copy of the ‘Calendar of the Tavistock Parish Records’, published in 1887 by Richard Nicholls Worth. This book contains highlights, translated from Latin, of records kept by St Eustachius parish church, and includes churchwarden accounts dating back to 1385. Grabbing my attention, because of my recent blogging on St John’s in Tavistock, were numerous references to ‘gathering rushes for the feast of the Nativity of St. John the Baptist’ (p4) and the ‘strewing’ of the said rushes on the church floor.

It is because I had been looking at the medieval church records, with St John and rushes buzzing about my head, that my attention was later grabbed by a conjunction of place-names on a map. I wouldn’t normally have thought anything of it, but here, just south of Lamerton village, can be seen a place called St John’s next to a place called Rushford.  Coincidence? Perhaps not.

I wondered if the tithe map of the 1840s, and the field names it recorded, revealed anything more, hinting at a bygone history? I wasn’t disappointed.  Two of the field names at this location are recorded as Holyland and Middle Holyland. An even earlier 18^th century map revealed Great Holyland, Three-cornered Holyland, Higher Holyland, Wards Holyland, Marshy Holyland and Church Parks. There is also a record in The Gentleman’s Magazine of one of the fields near Lamerton by the Lumburn being called the ‘Maudlin Mead’ (Urban, 1830, p490). Boy, was this a sacred place!

Why, you might ask, does this obviously churchy-ground, link to Tavistock? It is in Lamerton Parish, which has its own church. Surely these holy fields belong to St Peter’s of Lamerton not St Eustachius in Tavistock? When Tavistock Abbey was founded in the late Saxon period, and given its foundation charter in 981, it originally was a manor within the Hundred of Lifton. The northern boundary of this Tavistock manor, according to Finberg (1969), was complicated, but it extended almost as far as Lamerton with its northerly boundary marked by the River Lumburn, as shown in the map below.

In the 12^th C Tavistock was granted borough status and the manor of Hurdwick was created out of the rural part of the earlier manor of Tavistock. Tavistock, at this time became a Hundred in its own right, with Lamerton remaining in the Hundred of Lifton. It is therefore the case that, until Hundreds were abolished in 1867 (and parish boundaries re-organised) that Lamerton Parish, from the 12^th C onwards, was within a different Hundred to Tavistock. What is important about this fact is that it is therefore clear that the ‘holy’ fields at Rushford were a Hurdwick possession and therefore sanctified in affiliation to Tavistock, not Lamerton.

From this triple-fold evidence I therefore think it is reasonable to suggest that these fields at Rushford were consecrated as holy due to the rushes being gathered yearly to strew in the parish church on the Feast of the Nativity of John the Baptist. For reason of the connection of the rush fields to St John, I suspect the nearby building, even though it lay in Lamerton Parish, gained the name of ‘St John’ by association.

The natural question that arises from all of this is why? Why were rushes being gathered? Why was rush-strewing only being recorded on the feast of the Nativity of St. John the Baptist? Why was St John special to Tavistock? And what does religious rush strewing involve?

Let’s take a closer look at some of these questions and examine medieval and post-medieval use of the rush.

The Utility of the Rush

Soft Rush (Juncus effusus) was commonly used for all sorts of things up to the 19^th C. Most commonly they would be peeled and soaked in a flammable substance like fat and used as a rushlight; the illumination technology of the poor, who could not afford candles (Mabey, 1996; Jeffree, 2023). Rushes, of different types, including the bulrush and sweet flag, would also be used for many purposes. These included thatching, weaving baskets and mats, and strewing on floors.

Domestic Rush Strewing

In the days before tiling and floorboards, when buildings had earth floors, it was common for rushes to be scattered on the floor (Woodbury, 2016). For example there are records of payments for rushes to be strewn in the chamber of King Edward II (1307-27) (Burton, 1891). In the reign of Edward IV (1461-1470) his groom was to daily lay rushes in the King’s chamber. In fact, many of the wealthiest houses employed a ‘rush-strewer’ to conduct this daily activity (Bridges, 1996, p17). Daily strewing though was probably confined only to the best off in society, and it was more normal for households to strew less frequently, perhaps only once a year, meaning the rushy floor covering itself became filthy and fetid.

Church Rush Strewing

Because many churches have records, the practice of rush strewing is particularly well attested in these places. Unlike in a domestic context, rush strewing in church not only made the floors nicer and more fragrant, but it was also linked to important religious ceremony. Documented practice demonstrates that, certainly for some churches such as St Eustachius, that rushes would be strewn once a year.

Rush-Bearing

It wasn’t just that rushes were taken to church for strewing as a practical act. The rush-strewing was ceremonial and festive. Seventeenth Century documents, for example, emphasise that this was done as a community activity, with fines issued against those not taking part (Bridges, 1996, p 19). It is also evident from some 16^th C documents that church bells were rung to accompany the ceremony, and that cake and ale for the rush-bearers was paid for by the parish, but that all this might end up in ‘indecent’ and boisterous behaviour.

A wonderful record of rush-bearing festivities is recorded in ‘The Book of Sports’, issued in 1618 by James I to counteract the puritan movement that was attempting to stop any form of recreation on a Sunday. Rush-bearing featured in this book as it was a popular entertainment, particularly in the north. So, in this context we get a cited description of rush-bearing at Cawthorn in Yorkshire from 1596 in which the revellers:

Rush Carts

From the 18^th Century onwards, rush-bearing ceremonies frequently include the ‘rush-cart’ – a cart piled high in a sculptural mass of rushes, decorated with flowers and possibly effigies and accompanied by rush-bearers (Mabey, 1996). Perhaps the incidence of rush carts increased at this time, in step with turnpike road improvements? Before decent roads – and this is particularly true for steep-hilled Devon – rushes would probably need to be taken to church either carried, ceremonially, in the arms of people (see the image below), or using a pack animal.

Rush-carts formed the focus of a procession to the church but which might perambulate, stopping at the grander houses. All of this would be accompanied, as we have already seen, by an air of celebration, with dancing, guising and miming, and in many cases, suggestions of boozy revelry and feasting (see Bridges, 1996).

Rush-cart customs have a hot-spot of incidence in Lancashire and surrounding counties (Bridges, 1996). This might be a consequence of the area’s resistance to Protestantism (Dutton et al 2003, p249), allowing popish practice to persist. A particularly detailed account, unexpectedly, turns up in the trial of the famous Peterloo massacre in Manchester, recorded as part of the testimony of the defence:

When Did Rush Bearing Occur?

Modern rush-bearing customs frequently link to celebrations of the patron saint of the church, or on the date of the church foundation. On the eve of the saint’s day this would take the form of a night time vigil and might include festivities. This is a custom termed a ‘church wake’ (but in the same tradition of personal wakes for the departed, particularly in Ireland). Not so much known in southern England anymore, wakes have persisted to a greater degree in northern England, as evidenced by their rushcart celebrations. The Oxford English dictionary cites a number of early examples of wakes that testify to them being far from sombre affairs such as this hearty account describing: ‘At wrestelyng, at wake, rengd haf i and folud wit lust all luchery‘ (1300).

For this Tavistock example, this raises the question, why was the Feast of the Nativity of St John’s Eve being used for rush strewing in the church and not that of St Eustachius, whose saints day is the 20^th September? Perhaps, because Tavistock also possessed a St John’s Chapel, and St John’s Eve is Midsummer’s Eve, this was a more popular time for a great celebration. With the Feast of Saint Matthew the Apostle falling on 21^st September, perhaps holding the rush-bearing wake the day before was all just a bit too much?

Rushes and Ceremonial Rush Use in Tavistock – A Summary

A combination of 14^th century entries in the ‘Calendar of the Tavistock Parish Records’, place-names and field-names, has shown that the northern extremity of the manor of Hurdwick was likely being ‘farmed’ for rushes in the medieval period. This extends our understanding of Tavistock’s medieval land management beyond the usual suspects of livestock, edible crops and timber/coppice.

Whilst there may have been an annual rush-bearing celebration, rushes would have been required all year round for flooring, thatching, lighting and weaving. This is evident by the number of fields at Rushford with ‘holyland’ or ‘church’ in the name – clearly this ground was needed for more than just the annual stewing of the church floor.Whilst farms could probably provide their own rushes, the urban centre of Tavistock would need to be able to bring rushes in. We might therefore conceive of Rushford as a main place of supply for the parish.

It would appear that the cultivation and harvesting of rushes at Rushford have a special link to the Nativity of the Feast of St John’s Eve. If traditional practice from elsewhere is anything to go by then this may have formed part of rush-bearing festivities rather than just ‘delivery’ of rushes to the church. We might therefore allow ourselves to imagine medieval Tavistock parishioners processing, dancing, singing, dressing up, and feasting on cakes and ale.

Presumably such rush-bearing antics and midsummer celebrations were prevalent until protestantism swept away the catholic practice. However, there is a little glimmer that Midsummer lingered as an important ritual time of year. In 1830, in The Gentleman’s Magazine the Rev. E. A. Bray in noted as mentioning that there is a local ‘ballad on the superstitious custom of looking through the key hole of the church – door on Midsummer eve‘ (Anonymous, p157) .

Descriptions of rush-bearing appear to have many parallels to modern day carnivals, held annually in many towns. This raises the question as to whether carnivals, as we know them now, arose out of a former rush-bearing traditions? I am not clear on the history of the Tavistock Carnival and if anything is known of its roots. In the light of this history I would be interested to understand more of its origin story.

The fact that the fields at Rushford have been given the name ‘holy’ suggests that, in order for the rushes to be brought into the church and used as part of a religious ceremony, it was important that they were grown on sanctified ground. This, I feel, is a particularly important contribution, because writings about rush-strewing and rush-bearing emphasise the journey, the focal ‘place’ of the ceremony, and the tradition/folklore involved. None of the writings I have seen include analysis of where the rushes grow, their procurement and the fact that they had to come from blessed ground.

Today the fields of Rushford, whilst damp like all Devon fields, are seemingly free of rushes. Drainage pipes, soil manuring, fertilization, and grazing have turned the fields into the archetypal improved pasture. Today Rushford, apart from in a few patches beside the Lumburn, is a rush-free zone, but in medieval times, it seems, if you wanted rushes, this was where it was at!

References

Anonymous. 1830. Review – Mrs . Bray’s Fitz of Fitz – Ford. The Gentleman’s Magazine. Volume 147pp 156-157.

Bridges, D. 1996. Rushbearing: A Forgotten British Custom. In Johnston, A.F. and Hüsken, W.N. (Eds.), English Parish Drama (Vol. 1). Rodopi.

Burton, A. 1891. Rush-bearing: an account of the old custom of strewing rushes; carrying rushes to church; the rush-cart; garlands in churches; morris-dancers; the wakes; the rush. Manchester, Brook & Chrystal

Dutton, R., Findlay, A.G. and Wilson, R. eds., 2003. Region, religion and patronage: Lancastrian Shakespeare. Manchester University Press.

Finberg. H.P.R. 1969. Tavistock Abbey: a study in the social and economic history of Devon. Cambrudge University Press.

Jeffree, C. 2023. Plants of the Week, 10th July 2023 – Four Native Rushes (Juncus). Botany in Scotland. https://botsocscot.wordpress.com/

Mabey, R. 1996. Flora Britannica. Sinclair – Stevenson.

Poole, R., 2006. The march to Peterloo: politics and festivity in late Georgian England. Past and Present, 192(1), pp.109-153.

Urban, Mr. 1830. Notices of Tavistock. The Gentleman’s Magazine. Volume 147.

Woodbury, S. 2016. Rushes on the Floor. Journey to Medieval Wales blog. www.sarahwoodbury.com