Alan Crosby looks at the penalties that parishioners faced for bringing their dogs into church, and dozing during a service
ALAN CROSBY lives in Lancashire and is the editor of The Local Historian
One Saturday I was sitting in Tewkesbury Abbey, listening to the organist practising for the choral evensong service being held later in the afternoon. Members of the choir then appeared in their long black gowns, and they too began to practise, filling the magnificent building with glorious sound. Visitors to the abbey walked around quietly whispering to each other, or like me sat in silence enjoying the musical experience.
This magical atmosphere was broken when a middle-aged couple wandered up the central aisle with a dog, one of those smallish yappy ones that dart around and make a nuisance of themselves. I confess that I am not a dog enthusiast, and so am doubtless prejudiced, but in my old-fashioned view it was inappropriate for it to be in a church.
Some 250 and more years ago, harassed churchwardens tried to prevent our ancestors from bringing their dogs to services or allowing them to roam unattended through the church. Numerous parishes employed a dog-whipper, who was responsible for rounding up the offenders and expelling them from the building. We can often see the payments made to these men (and not infrequently women) recorded in the churchwardens’ accounts. Dogs disrupted services, barking during sermons and getting under people’s feet as they went up to the altar to receive the sacrament. Parishioners were distracted from worshipping as they held their dogs to prevent them from causing a disturbance. Thomas Tailer was brought before the church court of Hawton near Nottingham in 1617 “for misbehavinge himself with his dogge in the church in time of divine service”. He defended himself, saying that “his doge being fighting or quarrellinge in the churche with another dogge he did take his dogge into his armes”.
So, the answer was to round up the animals and put them outside in the churchyard. At Smarden in Kent in 1627 one Bury was paid 1s “for lashing the dogs out of the church for one quarter”, while at Ludlow in Shropshire in 1560 1½d was spent “for a belle and whipcorde to make a whip to drive dogges out of the churche”. The whip had little bells, perhaps to warn the errant dogs that the fearsome whipper was on his way. It’s hard
