chard I or King John, somewhere about the
year 1200. There was certainly a church before this date, but most
likely this was the first time that much pains had been taken about its
beauty, and carved stone had been brought from a distance. It was a good
spot that was chosen, lying a little above the meadows, and not far from
the moated Manor House. The east wall of the nave is still standing, but
it now forms the west wall of the small remnant that is still covered in.
It still has three arches in it, to lead to the old chancel, and above
those arches there were some paintings. They came to light when the Old
Church was pulled down. First, a great deal of plaster and whitewash
came off. Then appeared part of the Commandments in Old English black
letter, and below that, again, were some paintings, traced out in red
upon the wall. They have been defaced so much that all that could be
found out was that there was a quatrefoil shape within a square. The
corners were filled up apparently with the emblems of the Four Cherubim,
though only the Winged Ox showed plainly. There was a sitting figure in
the centre, with the hand raised, and it was thought to be a very rude
representation of our Blessed Lord in Judgment. In another compartment
was an outline of a man, and another in a hairy garment, so that this
last may have been intended for the Baptism of our Blessed Lord.
Unfortunately, being on the outside wall, there was no means of
protecting these curious paintings, and, sad to say, one evening, I
myself saw a party of rough boys standing in a row throwing stones at
them. There being a pathway through the churchyard, it was not possible
to keep them out, and thus these curious remains have been destroyed.

We may think of the people who resorted to the little Old Church as
wearing long gowns both men and women, on Sunday, spun, woven, and dyed
blue at home, most likely with woad, a plant like mignonette which still
grows in the lanes. The gentry were in gayer colours, but most likely
none lived nearer than Winchester, and it was only when they plodded into
market that the people would see the long-hanging sleeves, the pointed
hoods, and the queer long-toed shoes of the young gentlemen, or the
towers that the ladies put on their heads.

The name of Otterbourne does not come forward in history, but, as it lies
so near Winchester, it must have had some share in what happened in the
Cathedral city. The next thing we