Flanked here by the pinnacled fantasia of St Mary the Virgin Steeple Ashton - a 'silvery battleship' as Betjeman described it - and the massy grandeur of the collegiate church at Edington on the edge of Salisbury plain is the spired bellcote of a small gem in an equally prosperous context, All Saints Great Chalfield. We started our Bank Holiday Sunday excursion there, skimming a lively plant fair our Lacock hosts were keen to catch and heading straight for the garden of the amiably proportioned manor at opening time. The church, which feels more like a cosy private chapel appended by Thomas Trop(e)nell to the late 15th century house - he added the bellcote to the 13th century building at the same time - is echoed by two topiaried pavilions or tree 'houses' of hollowed-out yews, part of Alfred Parsons' splendid garden design in 1910.
Tropnell further enhanced the little church with a family chapel, approached through an elegant screen with his coat of arms - gryphons, not cockatoos - in the centre.
Mutilated but still striking wall-paintings of the life of St Catherine within are surprisingly well complemented by Andrew Taylor's 1999 windows taking St Luke's Parable of the Sower as pretext for a detailed representation of British nature. I've chosen just a couple of details.
The good folk of Steeple Ashton lavished the profits of their cloth-weaving on what for me is one of the most magical flourishes of Perpendicular Gothic.
The steeple which gives the place its name was several times toppled in the 17th century and is no more, but the height of the tower which once supported it remains impressive. Beneath the pinnacles is a gallimaufry of gargoyles.
The porch gives promise of stonework within: its vaulting, which contains at its centre the Assumption of the Virgin,
continues in aisles and chapels, though the original intention to have stone vaults throughout apparently halted when it came to the nave. This roof of oak and plaster with pendants and bosses gives the well-lit interior further airy grace.
Fragments of medieval glass help to date the greater part of the church: the white rose and the sun-on-shield of Richard III mean the structure must have been completed before his death in 1485.
Just as Steeple Ashton is a great flowering of late medieval art, so the church of the Blessed Virgin Mary, St Katherine and All Saints at Edington, just below the north slope of Salisbury Plain, ranks as a handsome specimen of the previous century's transition from Decorated to Perpendicular. Its richness is due to its foundation, between 1352 and 1361, by William of Edington, Bishop of Winchester, who set up the neighbouring priory for the Augustinian Order of Bonhommes. Among whose number this monk may or may not be counted (the inappropriate blue of his vestment is due to a later recolouring, though some of the original has survived).
Again, he may or may not be a Baynton, as suggested by the visual representation of a bay in a barrel (tun) of wine.
Even more splendid is the monument dedicated to Sir Edward Lewys by his wife Anne Beauchamp, who followed her husband to eternal rest in 1664. It quite seduced me away from the other glories of the 14th century chancel. The angel or putto poised with crown above the couple is of wood rather than marble, which accounts for his elegant suspension.
The children pray for their parents below
and are imitated - with a presumably unintended sense of humour - by the early 19th century monument to the Tayler family in the north aisle. These equally pious offspring are children no longer.
Very nearly contemporary with the Lewys monument are the plaster vaults of nave, transepts and tower.
And so, our church homages done, we journeyed south for a circular walk around woods and downs. In a couple of weeks the bluebells may be over
but the beeches will be in full leaf and parts of the woodland will be covered in the orchids of several species we found emerging on the slopes.
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20 comments:
All those bluebells quite a riot of them. Some of those Churches remind me on their exterior of similar protestant churches in Ottawa.
Took a quick look at Ottawa churches, and it looks like the ?Victorians? modelled the Presbyterian and Anglican ones on ye olde English style. Otherwise, big spires like the one Steeple Ashton's missing seem to be the order of the day.
Were I to visit these churches on my own, I would not see nearly so much of what was in them as you've shown us here--though I'd certainly not overlook those glorious topiaried pavilions! So many wonderful details you've pointed out. Among my favorites, the stained glass depictions of nature and the sun on shield and white rose of Richard III that place completion of that particular church in time. I'm curious, of course, to know how it is you've come to know so much about church architecture. The missing steeple reminded me of Cathedral of St. John's the Divine, a much loved institution in New York City that is minus one of its towers (though in this case, because it never was built--finally, not so many years ago, the scaffolding came down, with the thinking that the funds required to complete it were better spent on the community served by the church).
Must be honest, Sue, and tell you I need more than a little help from the Pevsner guides and the booklets you buy in each church. Though I left all of them behind in Lacock this time, so was reliant on memory and checking a few facts online.
Our lovely Lacock hosts told us about another lord of the manor who had a topiaried Stonehenge in his garden, a thing of wonder (and I trust Deborah the artist on that). Then the next owner came along and chopped it all down.
The un-/later-finished is appealing, isn't it? I find it fascinating that they were still working on the west front/spires/towers of Cologne Cathedral in the 19th century before the final touches were abandoned. Or something like that.
Oh, and welcome home, I presume, from your bracing musical time in Wales. Look forward to reading all about it.
I think that the generation of wealth in the 19th century enabled many churches to be finished. Or at any rate enabled a great deal more to be done, after a long delay when resources were hardly available. Cologne is an example.
I would like to send you an email, my name is Christian Thompson I am one of the directors of the Verbier Festival in Switzerland. How could I find you?
The thing with those gorgeous bluebells is where to put the picnic blanket, for me to loll about on while others go chuching.
David - you have often and often drawn attention to the more than wonderful churches in this country - they are everywhere and so beautiful. Yet they are less and less used for worship. Could we not return them to what I understand to be the medieval usage - for all kinds of parish meetings, parties etc. So take out the fixed pews ( mostly Victorian in any case) and put in movable seats; sell the boringly modern parish halls ( and any local free churches/chapels) and use the money to endow the church, with lavatories, kitchens ( all out of sight) and (probably in view of the modern ideas) electronic screens etc ( not necessarily for the services). And to pay for choirs....People have identified with local stately homes and they must be near to identifying with the beautiful edifice right in the centre of the village
I should have added that more and more of the institutions previously at the centre of village life have closed - public houses, shops, post offices, etc. So a wider use of the churches would - to an extent - be a force pulling village life together
Christian - just leave another message with your e-mail and I'll respond (not publishing it here, of course).
Wanderer - were it hot and limitlessly sunny, I'd have done the same. But the phrase 'ne'er cast a clout 'till May is out' certainly applies here. I should add that the pursuit of churches in my case is religious in one sense only (ie when I see one I have to go in and have a look around).
David - I heartily agree, sir. Many of the Churches Conservation Trust buildings are pewless, and restored to a simplicity I like. Though 17th and 18th century pews can be treasurable, of course. As for using the church for parish entertainment, I can think of two examples: the local, St Andrew's Fulham Fields, where I performed the Nightmare Song from Iolanthe to folk sitting around tables drinking wine and eating where the pews would normally be; it's now had major restoration work and I gather there's a cafe (must go and have a look). Which leads me on to another church which doubles admirably - can't remember the name, but it's in Hereford and has an excellent cafe-restaurant at the back. You can, I seem to remember, take your food upstairs and sit under the extraordinary Bruce-na-gig (man displaying a healthy erection, adapted from the more usual form, which is a Sheila-na-gig).
I suppose I, too, should add that the one thing which might keep non-religious folk away from using the facilities as a social centre might be the vicar hovering and saying 'and when can we expect to see you at our Sunday services?' Though not all are like that, of course.
I was brought up in a Welsh village in which the local chapel was used in just the way we are discussing. There seemed no trouble,and peace was restored for the services on Sundays. Of course this was in the days before television, motor cars for many people and the other things that have taken away from village life, and I do not think that a plain building like the chapel has much going for it. But a beautiful medieval church is another matter
I suggest that priests should see life as a whole ( and some direct overlaps such as the choir )
The plain buildings can sometimes be the most welcoming. On our annual Norfolk Churches Walk, we found the Methodists in their humble chapels the friendliest.
I hope I am not overstaying my welcome but I cannot refrain from this quotation ( reflecting of course the brilliant compromise of Elizabeth I)From Bishop Simon Parker, late 17th century......
....the virtuous balance "which our Church [of England] observes between the meretricious gaudiness of the Church of Rome and the squalid sluttery of fanatical conventicles"
Admittedly a bit unfair on your nice Methodists......
I must find a place in conversation for 'the squalid sluttery of fanatical conventicles'. Bless you - and Bish Parker - for that.
As a comment on use of church buildings in Canada. It has been the fashion now since the 1970's to convert churches to other usage. In Montreal, the city has an enormous amount of church buildings all concentrated in the city limit of Montreal, many great stone buildings of the Victorian era. Several of the larger ones have been sold and converted into condominiums, others have become shelters for the poor and offer also medical and other social services. Still others like the St-Joseph's Oratory on the Mont Royal is used frequently for organ concerts. In Ottawa churches are constantly used for recitals by various musical groups. It is one way to bring people into the churches since religious worship is low. What is sad however is the number of churches which have been sold and demolished or who have burned down only to be turned into parking lots.
Writing just to say, it's nice to see you Over There (and, as always, I will respond formally in due course), but also, lest you think your presence Over Here is not missed, I'm here to tell you that it is. May all be well, and I look forward to hearing from you again Over Here.
hello dearest,
the blue bell forest reminds me of our lovely weekend with Bella in Suffolk a long time ago.
looking forward to seeing you soon back in Blighty!Let's go and see some more churches before I leave again??
much love Sophie
As I put together my little Terry Riley birthday post, had you much in mind, recalling our exchanges about Tranströmer and Hallelujah Junction. Enjoyed dipping once again into TT's poetry and Adams' book. Time for a re-read of each, said I to myself. Well, once I finish the new Mantel, and, and, and. Thinking of you, and may all be well.
No need to respond, but I wanted to write to say: as I was putting together British bird photos (such as they are) for the post I've just put up, I was listening to Britten and remembered it's you I have to thank for some of the Britten pieces I now enjoy, notably Les Illuminations and Young Apollo (which led me, via the Osborne/BBC Scottish Symphony CD, to Diversions). Thank you so much, yet once again & warm regards to you and yours.
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