This year's walk to raise funds for the Norfolk Churches Trust was rich in old glass - the county's oldest, pictorially speaking, in the four roundels of St Mary the Virgin, Saxlingham Nethergate, dating from 1250, two of them featured above. It was a day of mixed weather, ending with early evening post-storm sharpness in a beautiful hilly fold featuring three churches in one remote-feeling area, Shotesham. Various ailments in our party of seven meant, as last year, that the miles were limited to ten, but it was another happy day all round.
We assembled on the lane at the east end of St Mary Shelton. Cally took a selfie for the start, which means of course she looms largest, but here too are (left to right) self, Fairless, Jill, Kate, Jane and J. Kate and J also took some super photos - I was still using my makeshift Agfa and my not great mobile after Royal Albert Hall lost property lost my Lumix while in storage - so I'll credit them where appropriate.
It was already clear from the east end that this was a church on some scale, and with a consistency of design (gargoyles all round).
and so it proved, one of the few really fine examples of the Perpendicular in Norfolk. The greater part was built by Sir Ralph Shelton, High Sherriff of Norfolk, who provisioned in the will he made in 1487 for the church to be completed as he had begun it. Son John didn't finish it quite as requested; his marriage to Anne Boleyn's aunt gives him an interesting connection to the safekeeping of the princesses Mary and Elizabeth, reputedly hidden in the tower to escape a court conspiracy.
Only the west window of the south aisle and the 14th century flint tower
are older; the rest is of red brick with some stone dressings and (declares the neat guide to 'the Hempnall churches') 'embellished with a "diaper" pattern in darker coloured bricks' (J's photo is more sweeping than mine).
The incomplete two-storey porch has broken-off fan vaulting
Inside, the impression is one of space and airiness, though the high ceiling is the result of the old roof having been removed in the 18th century for use on a tithe barn. The corbels with angels and Shelton arms remain.
At the west end are the gilded, painted oak Royal Arms of William III; below it is the first of many octagonal fonts in this style which graced most of the churches on our walk. Above, symbols of the evangelists alternating with shield-bearing angels, with lions on the base, once complemented by wild men presumably vandalised.
Much of the glass has survived, restored in the 1990s, and contemporary with the Shelton design. The east window is mostly original (the Virgin, apparently not) and includes members of the family including Sir Ralph and his wife in the upper portion.
Sir John and Lady Shelton are to be found in the south aisle's east window
The nearby tomb is of Sir Robert Houghton (1623, KG).
To my mind, the resurrected Christ in the east window of the north aisle is especially fine.
Clouds lifted as we walked along a green lane by a field
and a couple of very large dragonflies kept us company for part of the way (Norfolk Hawkers, possibly, though they didn't settle, so I didn't get close enough to see).
Next stop: St John the Baptist Morningthorpe, again approached from the east,
the lower part of its round tower originally dating from the time of the Norman Conquest, though it looks all of a piece.
The titular saint is to be found carved at the end of one of the choir stalls - dating, I assume, from the time of the restoration in 1889.
Another 15th century 'lion' font has a Victorian carved cover with an angel at the top.
This time there are tail-lashing lions above alternating with shield-bearing angels (the one in the middle below looks to have been extensively recut), more lions below.
There's certainly fine carving on an Elizabethan table tomb in the chancel, but no figures or inscriptions.
Especially lovely is the piscina opposite, 15th century like the font; the ogee arch has a Tudor rose to the left and a leopard's head to the right, relating to the De La Poles.
The church, having sprung upon us unawares, receded as we crossed the next fields,
and before we came upon St Catherine Fritton, also out of nowhere and also from the east, swallows were lined up on telegraph poles, presumably ready for departure.
St Catherine's round tower has an octagonal (ie later) top.
Our backside arrival was corrected by walking down to the 19th century oak lych gate, where a nice local lady signing folk in had brought a big bag of apples. Fairless took a fair number to make apple wine.
There are two main treasures within. One is a wall-painting of St George, which Pevsner deems 'naively over-restored'. But better that than the barely-visible St Christopher, which isn't even worth reproducing.
The rood screen of 1510-20
has eight painted panels on the dado, including the donor John Bacon and his entire family, plentiful potato-headed children included (KG's photo is much better than mine).
St Simon on one of the right-side panels, next to St Jude, has had his face more or less obliterated, but his fish is fine.
In the spandrels are unicorns and, here, a dragon, facing up to St George on the other side.
Another lions-and-angels font has the happy individuality of leonine grins.
There's another fragment of wall-painting worth catching for the light
and an ancient south door, restored in 1619.
This pleasant churchyard seemed like the perfect place for lunch, even though we were only on church no. 3. The ritual of chicken and chutney rolls, established by Jill's mother many years ago, continues, and the Griffin-Masterman bakery yielded further treats.
Refreshed, we moved on, without having caught a glimpse of Fritton village, but passing several residences offering free apples for the taking and this autumnally-dressed barn
The supposed footpath we then took to the right was a nightmare of overgrown thistles and nettles, but my stick as wielded by Cally helped to hack a way through, and these handsome horses with others on the other side of the barbed-wire fence kept us company most of the way.
Hempnall, our next village, is the nerve-centre of the district, but though there are many fine buildings, it doesn't have a lot to say for itself. The only pub had closed down fairly recently, though there was a temporary one open two nights only in a disused mill. At least Hempnall had a local shop, with a sullen 'computer says no' till attendant who rejected my request for a loo (the one in the church was locked. The result of my search TBC further down). St Margaret stands on a slight eminence.
It's a mixture of 13th and 14th centuries with a bit of Saxon work, though it was redundant by 1535. Looks pretty much of a piece, though (JOS).
AThe history is interesting enough, including a Civil War change of hands, but the interior had a major restoration in 1857 plus later additions which are partly responsible for its slightly clinical interior, though it's clearly used.
Another of those fonts comes to the rescue, with symbols of the Evangelists as well as the usual lions and angels with shields.
Black clouds were now massing over Hempnall, but it wasn't because of these that I took a lift with Jill to our next destination: you don't need a lengthy explanation, but there are times when I need more than just a bush to pee behind - since my op the stoma situation occasionally needs attention. So I handed my bright orange waterproof to Fairless and the others headed off towards two Saxlingham churches (JOS),
reaching the poetic ruins of St Mary Saxlingham Thorpe (JOS, CBJ) as thunder resounded above (which we heard, along with heavy rain on the roof, from within St Mary Saxlingham Nethergate).
Jill and I eventually caught it in bright sunshine. But first, the necessaries - the very friendly Canadian lady who'd been married to a local for many years pointed me to the comfortable space of the church amenities on the other side of the car park and all was well. This is our approach to the church, but somewhat later.
The canny folk of Saxlingham Nethergate approached the Heritage Lottery Fund for a new ring of eight bells. In the process, they also got enough to get repairs done on the tower, and to publish two beautifully illustrated guides - one for adults, one for children. In an area where you're lucky if you get a sheet of paper - though four of our churches had been covered by another rather good guide - this is luxury indeed.
And St Mary the Virgin deserves it, because it has not only the oldest pictorial coloured glass in Norfolk, dating from 1250, but plenty more of considerable interest: 'unusually much', as Pevsner puts it. Let's start with the four medallions. There are hundreds more of their ilk in Chartres and Canterbury cathedrals, but you rarely get to concentrate on them at close quarters. Top, we have Saints John and James, to their right the beheading of an unknown saint; below, St Edmund, King and Martyr, his hands tied behind a tree while a bowman takes aim, and then offering up the arrows of his martyrdom to God.
Moving forward roughly half a century at least, we have in the north chancel window, beneath angels respectively bearing a censer and a scourge with nails, albeit fragmentedly, the four Latin doctors of the church, Augustine, Ambrose, Gregory and Jerome, who offers the highlight because of his instantly identifiable red cardinal's hat.
Though the north aisle and its windows were partly added in 1867, there is a mixture in the east window, with c. 1400 canopy tops, and side/below figures of a bishop, an archbishop, and Edward the Confessor. The central panel which comes from the continent shows a Franciscan friar with knotted girdle, possibly St Francis of Assisi himself.
J took the above, as well as the Renaissance coats of arms in the window to the left, which come from elsewhere.
Another window, this time on the right side of the chancel, mixes continental glass with 15th century panels which were probably originally in the main east window. Colour-wise, with predominantly Germanic golds, yellows and browns, it's quite a contrast to the early French blues of the 1250 roundels.
Seems I missed out on the bright mid-14th century figures of St Philip and St James the Less, but I'm glad Kate snapped the dragon at the feet of St Michael in a window given in 1953 in memory of the donor's son, killed in the Second World War.
Would you believe we even missed out on another of those angels-and-lions fonts, so much glass was there to see, but not on the handsome door of 1600, with its two wooden hatches known as 'Judas' windows, for those inside to see who's coming.
A bit more cheating on my part here, since Jill and I had to go back to see the ruined church in the wood, and were glad we did. The Canadian lady said the parishioners held a service here once a year, and there was space to drive down and park in a green field to the left.
The dark clouds were moving away beyond the fields
and in the fresh, clear air following the storm I simply had to jump out of the car to join the others for the last, truly blissful stretch, encompassing the three churches of Shotesham (there's a putative fourth in the shape of a mound). We saw the tower of our final destination first.
then over to the left of the road were the other two.
St Martin was first, the next ruin, in a more open setting than St Mary Saxlingham Thorpe, but no less poetic (KG clearly took the last of the four shots below, since she's not in it).
St Mary Shotesham was a very short distance away, beside a grand house (though not as grand as Shotesham Park of 1785, designed by Sir John Soane, which we didn't see).
To our surprise, two folk were still there. One of the them pointed out the two lizards on the old door knocker, and told us the only other one of its kind was in the British Museum. Wish I could find out more but none of my sources mentions it.
This time the early evening light was too beautiful to ignore the font.
and I nearly missed out on the medieval glass in the east window of the north chapel.
The couple told us they'd been at the main church of All Saints down the hill, and that it would be open until 6.30. So we descended briskly,
arrived at the church,
and found it locked with no-one in sight. No matter, we only missed another angels-and-lions font. What a beautiful, undulating landscape, and what a view across to one in a fine row of buildings, 'a very handsome house', Pevsner calls it, of 1712.
The business of reclaiming cars parked elsewhere was easy for those of us waiting - Shotesham has a friendly pub, The Globe, with a garden overlooking the valley of the river Tas. Which gave us a last glory, mists at sunset along the drive back to Norwich, for which we had to stop, Couldn't decide which of J's photos to choose, so let's have all three.
So back to the Old Vicarage for hearty pies and a not-too-exhausted feeling of a walk well done. This is always used by self and others as a tool to encourage you to donate, which you can do citing 'for David/Jeremy/Jill/Cally/Jane/Kate & Fairless' so we know if not who it is, whom it's for on the Norfolk Churches Trust's JustGiving page. A thousand thanks to those who already have.
Here are the links to all previous Norfolk church walks covered on the blog (we actually did our first in 2002, around the Burnhams). I've still not done the report on the completion of the Norwich churches in November 2023.
Heckingham to Burgh St Peter, 2024
Happisburgh to Winterton, 2017
Beechamwell to Gooderstone, 2013
Ingoldisthorpe to Thornham, 2012
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