1913:1 North Hall 



Such a place was North Hall, which the people called Norrill. 

 It was not a castle but a massive stone house around a paved 

 courtyard; outside were herb gardens, frame buildings, and an 

 orchard, all encircled by a broad moat of water. . . . The 

 common room or large hall was a dismal place by day, for the 

 small external windows, with heavy iron bars, allowed but little 

 light to enter, but by night it was awful when the wind waved 



to quote further from the account, written (he says) for the benefit of his grand- 

 children, and " at his desk, cozily seated before a blazing fire in the most charming 

 gem of a room one could desire." 



"Sitting in my chair in my own house in West Street, Ayshperton, where I 

 have lived all my life, I can now look back calmly, over fifty years of change and 

 trouble, but I see that these troubles and anxieties were necessary to purge our 

 Enghsh Church first, in the time of Henry, from the dominion of the Pope of 

 Rome, and since, in the days of Edward and our present Queen Elizabeth, from 

 the superstitions which centuries had collected around it; I thank God that I am 

 iivmg to see it at last cleansed, and once more restored to the simple purity of 

 early days, yet still retaining its identity." 



The story of his boyhood is then charmingly told and in a fashion which 

 would seem modern were it not for references to ancient customs and to the sad 

 illness of the King, Henry VIII. Of one "Zacary Walsh of Cad Lane" he v.rites: 



" He had always been a troublesome fellow, with a quick temper and sharp 

 tongue like his mother, and to escape a severe punishment had run away to 

 Dertemouthe [Dartmouth] and gone to sea in the old ship Maudelayne. [Chau- 

 cer's barge, the Maudelyne, could hardly be the same vessel, although his schip- 

 man hailed from Dertemouthe.] He had suffered much, had been taken by the 

 Turks, and worked in their galleys for years, and was full of wonderful stories 

 which we boys never tired of hearing. He was a thin, hard, brown man, as active 

 as a cat, with short body, and long arms, each ending in a great hand which was 

 ever half closed from constant work at the oars. While a galley slave with other 

 Christians, he had been tattooed from head to foot, and was a wounderful sight. 

 It was done in blue, red, and green, and began on the back of his neck with a pic- 

 ture of the Creation, and ended with the Ascension on his left ankle. He said 

 that if drowned, and his body washed on a savage island, the natives could learn 

 the whole gospel by regarding his corpse. But I am sorry to say all his religion 

 at that time was on his skin and not in it. He could swear in ten languages, and 

 curse in twenty-three dialects; moreover, he did not lose these great powers from 

 want of use, for he would swear when happy, sad, angry, or loving; it was a trick 

 of speech with him, and was without malice or bitterness.". 



Later on, looking back meditatively, Prideaux observes: 



" I do believe if it had not been for the image of a fair face with brown hair 

 and laughing eyes that continuallj- presented itself to my mind's eye, I should 

 have determined at once to become a monk. 



"This my present statement [he continues] treats only of the days before the 

 Reformation, falsely called y^' good old times by the ignorant. I have purposely 

 refrained from saying much of my great love for Agnes Kelland, because, al- 



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