Highways and Byways in Lincolnshire — Reading Notes

A Motorist’s Method

Rawnsley’s preface makes explicit what the excerpts confirm: he travels by car and organizes his chapters by roads. The opening of the Well-to-Scartho excerpt begins with a specific date and weather—'a bright and breezy morning early in June'—then notes the trees, the scent of mustard and beans, and the profusion of chervil along the roadside. This is not a casual ramble but a planned itinerary. The motor car allows him to cover ground quickly, and he mentions seeing teams of four horses abreast 'on the heavy lands' near Holton-le-Clay, a detail that would be less visible to a walker confined to footpaths. The book’s structure thus mirrors the road network, with each chapter following a route out from a market town.

Saxon Towers and Danish Fire

The architectural passages are precise and repetitive. At Waith, Rawnsley notes a 'cruciform building' with an ancient tower 'built, not of rubble with quoins, but of dressed stones throughout.' At Grainsby, he records that stones 'bear the red marks of Danish fire.' At Scartho, the tower is 'Saxon in all but the absence of “Long-and-Short” work,' with 'tiny windows common to all Saxon towers' and a belfry with 'two-light windows with the usual mid-wall shaft.' These observations are not isolated; the author cross-references similar groups 'described near Caistor and Gainsborough in Chaps. XVII. and XX.' The reader should expect a systematic survey of pre-Norman towers, each described with the same technical vocabulary.

Roadside Details and Local Names

Rawnsley’s eye for the odd and specific enlivens the travelogue. He notes a tombstone with the 'curious and possibly Roman surname “Porcass.”' He passes an inn with the sign of 'The Old Pop Shop.' At Holton-le-Clay, the name is said to be 'aptly' derived from the heavy clay soil. These details are not decorative; they anchor the narrative in a particular place. The author also records a simile from a local barber, who described the scent of bean fields as 'just like the very most delicious hair-oil, my dear.' Such touches suggest Rawnsley listened to local speech and valued the idiosyncratic. Readers should watch for these small, unglamorous observations—they are the book’s texture.

The Landscape as Seen from the Road

Though the book is about churches, Rawnsley devotes long passages to the June landscape. The excerpt describes 'the profusion of chervil, or cow-parsley (Anthriscus), which, with its lace-like flowers, at times filled the space of grass between the road and the hedge with mile upon mile of its delicate white blossom.' He notes that the 'tender ash' is still delaying to clothe itself, quoting a Lincolnshire poet. The red cattle, the white sheep, the labourers weeding corn—all are seen from the car. This is not a naturalist’s account but a traveller’s impression, shaped by speed and the framed view from a moving vehicle. The result is a series of vivid, fleeting pictures rather than deep ecology.

Rawnsley’s book rewards a reader who follows the roads with him, noting the repeated architectural terms and the seasonal details. The preface warns that footpaths are ignored, so those seeking walking routes should look elsewhere. But for anyone interested in Edwardian motoring, Lincolnshire church towers, or the way a landscape can be seen from a car window, this volume offers a consistent, methodical tour. The illustrations by Frederick L. Griggs, mentioned in the preface as speaking for themselves, are an integral part of the experience.

That grey afternoon, huddled in the armchair, Rawnsley’s car journeys kept me company through rain-streaked windows, his careful notes on Saxon towers feeling like shared secrets. When he mentioned travelling on, my mind wandered west to another confiding traveller, one whose Continental observations carried a similar quiet patience—A View of Society and Manners in France, Switzerland, and Germany, Vol. 1 (of 2) With Anecdotes Relating to Some Eminent Characters — Themes and Context—and the afternoon dissolved into someone else’s dusty roads.