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These changes were most apparent in England. In Scotland, the Highlands and Borders remained lawless. The nobles� power over the peasantry remained great and still rested largely on military force: compared to their English counterparts, Scottish nobles were armed to the teeth. Yet there were changes in Scotland too. Gradually the civility and respect for law which had long been developing in the Lowlands were extended into the Highlands, together with the English language: by 1600 most clan chiefs could speak English as well as Gaelic. Elizabeth's accession was followed by a rare (but sustained) outbreak of good Anglo-Scottish relations, which facilitated the policing of the Borders. James VI learned to play nobles off against each other and reduced the level of disorder. A similar process occurred in Wales, but more quickly. The Union of England and Wales in 1536 led to the full extension of English law and methods of local government into Wales. By admitting Welsh members to Parliament, it accelerated the integration of the Welsh and English landed elites. But old habits died hard, and upland areas of north and west Wales were notoriously poor and violent.
In Wales, unlike Scotland, the extension of 'English' concepts of order was not accompanied by an assault on the native Celtic language: the drive to convert Wales to Protestantism used the Welsh language. If my emphasis hitherto has been on order and law, on the replacement of a 'lineage society' by a 'civil society', one could argue that the religious changes of the 16th century were hugely disruptive and provoked massive popular resistance, notably in the Pilgrimage of Grace of 1536 and the Western Rebellion of 1549. There has been much debate about the nature and depth of late medieval piety, but the continued building, expansion and beautification of churches suggest considerable lay support for the Church and its rituals. The conversion of England to Protestantism was slow, contested and far from continuous. Some argue that it was never complete, that the Church of England remained an uncomfortable hybrid, its doctrine widely seen as Calvinist, its government essentially Catholic (but without the pope) and its liturgy an amalgam of Protestant and Catholic: in English, but with set forms of service and a few residual ceremonies.

It seems uncontestable that of all the changes of the century, those unleashed by the Reformation had most impact on ordinary people. There were human casualties: those burned as heretics under Henry VIII and Mary, Catholic priests executed under Elizabeth for refusing to deny the authority of the pope. And there were physical changes. In parish churches images were ordered to be broken and walls whitewashed: the pictures and statues which had once served as 'books for the illiterate' were no more and unschooled peasants were left to wrestle with the Word of God, unadorned and to a considerable extent unaided. Not all images were removed or destroyed: many were to be smashed by Puritans in the civil wars and many survived even that. But important landmarks of spiritual life had gone, including chantry chapels in which masses had been said to speed the souls of the recently deceased through Purgatory - what was to happen to those souls now? - and the sense of contact between the living and the dead was much diminished. And then there were the monasteries, centres of learning and piety, which had formed an integral part of medieval spiritual life - and which owned one sixth of the land in England. Protestants rejected the concept of monasticism - the idea that, by withdrawing from the world and living a life of chastity and prayer, study and work, men and women could benefit society as a whole. But Henry VIII wanted the monasteries' lands and many laymen, whatever their religious views, were eager to buy them. Some, especially in London, proved immensely valuable: for example, those acquired by the Russells in Covent (originally Convent) Garden and Bloomsbury. Some monastic buildings were converted to other uses, but many, like Fountains or Rievaulx, were plundered for building materials and left to decay.

It would be naive to suggest that the monasteries played a central role in English life. Withdrawal from the world lay at the heart of monasticism and many houses were decayed and worldly: only in the North, and among the newer orders, was there the spiritual vigour found in parish worship. But the destruction changed the physical landscape, as urban monastic sites were cleared for building and remote monastery buildings were gutted and ruined. For many, greed and destruction must have seemed the most conspicuous features of the Reformation. Valuable objects - chalices, crucifixes, gilded statues, fine vestments disappeared. Edward Vl's reign saw an orgy of plunder: the dean and canons of Chester Cathedral were caught stripping lead off the roof.

But to dwell on plunder alone paints too bleak a picture. Some abbey churches became parish churches or, as at Peterborough, cathedrals. Much of the chantries' wealth was used to found the King Edward VI grammar schools. By 1600 the Church of England had established itself in the hearts and minds, or at least the consciousness, of a growing proportion of the people. Its familiar formulae and ceremonies, anathema to the more unbending Protestants (or Puritans), were acquiring the force of habit: familiarity could breed affection and edification. Its emphasis on community, expressed in collective responses and in parish festivities and feasts, bound people together: one was expected to resolve disputes with one�s neighbours before taking Communion at Easter. Although the images and paintings had (mostly) gone, the basic church structures remained, their architecture designed to inspire awe and reverence and to draw the thoughts of even the dullest worshippers heavenwards. While secular buildings came and went, victims of shoddy materials, poor construction or the vagaries of fashion, parish churches and cathedrals survived - and still survive - as reminders of the medieval past. ENDS