Hatfield Broad Oak
St Mary, Hatfield Broad Oak, Essex
I cycled on forestwards, and ahead of me on a hill suddenly appeared a dramatic church tower, the houses falling away below it, thickets of dark trees beyond. I climbed to a delightful village, its main street lined by grand 18th and 19th Century buildings, and a pub at each end. It reminded me of Dedham. Halfway between the pubs was the church. A magnificent building - despite it being in the Jenkins book I wasn't prepared for how splendid it is. It is just the former nave of a vast Benedictine church, bankrolled by the de Veres. The splendour of the interior is partly due to a multitude of 18th Century furnishings - there is a feel of a smaller, simpler Walpole St Peter - after which the most famous feature, the stone effigy of a de Vere as a crusading knight, comes as something of a disappointment. This is the kind of church you can't be alone in, and a couple of people I spoke to were very friendly. This was the first church of the day that I thought I really must come back to. And then I veered eastwards from the forest entering the emptiest and most remote area of Essex. No villages for miles, just hamlets, fields and the occasional farmstead.
Hatfield Broad Oak
St Mary, Hatfield Broad Oak, Essex
I cycled on forestwards, and ahead of me on a hill suddenly appeared a dramatic church tower, the houses falling away below it, thickets of dark trees beyond. I climbed to a delightful village, its main street lined by grand 18th and 19th Century buildings, and a pub at each end. It reminded me of Dedham. Halfway between the pubs was the church. A magnificent building - despite it being in the Jenkins book I wasn't prepared for how splendid it is. It is just the former nave of a vast Benedictine church, bankrolled by the de Veres. The splendour of the interior is partly due to a multitude of 18th Century furnishings - there is a feel of a smaller, simpler Walpole St Peter - after which the most famous feature, the stone effigy of a de Vere as a crusading knight, comes as something of a disappointment. This is the kind of church you can't be alone in, and a couple of people I spoke to were very friendly. This was the first church of the day that I thought I really must come back to. And then I veered eastwards from the forest entering the emptiest and most remote area of Essex. No villages for miles, just hamlets, fields and the occasional farmstead.