St Martin (Ninian Comper, 1912)
St Peter and St Paul, Langham, Rutland
You leave Oakham on the road into Leicestershire, and shortly come to the large, apparently undistinguished village of Langham. The name is one of the most common placenames in England, meaning simply 'long village'. But I remember this Langham for a reason I am sure many other people do. Twenty-odd years ago we used to go this way to visit friends in Derby, and if you wound down the car window at Langham you might just catch a delicious whiff of malted barley being heated, for the village was home to one of the great independent family breweries of England, Ruddles.
The day came when Ruddles was taken over Morlands of Abingdon, who closed the Langham brewery, but who were in their turn taken over by the rapacious Greene King, who closed the Abingdon brewery as well as the Langham one, and switched production of both Ruddles and Morland's Old Speckled Hen to Bury St Edmunds. But of course neither beer was ever the same.
Ruddles was a victim of its own success. In 1996, Ruddles County bitter was voted the best beer in the world no less, and was advertised on national commercial television. It even achieved 'protected geographical status', one of only three English beers to do so. But by then the brewery had only a year of its life left. I remember seeing the brewery buildings closed and derelict soon after, but they are all gone today, to be replaced by typically characterless housing. The name remains in Ruddles Avenue.
Not far off is the church of St Peter and St Paul, which Pevsner records as being large and imposing, which is certainly true, although it is a bit quirky as well, because the huge south transept is no longer balanced by the one on the north side, giving the church the shape of a letter T.
The tall spire is visible for miles, and the church is set in a wide, open churchyard. As Pevsner also observes, the interior is large, airy and spacious, but perhaps a little dull, and this is not unfair. The leaven in the lump is one of the largest expanses of Ninian Comper glass in the country, the vast windows in the east of the chancel (the orders of angels, 1907) and the transept (a selection of favourite Saints, 1912) both being his. Otherwise there is not much to set the pulses racing, but it is all pleasant enough and obviously well-loved, looked after and used.
Outside in the churchyard I noticed the grave of Sir Kenneth Ruddle, a member of the brewing family dynasty. All gone today.
St Martin (Ninian Comper, 1912)
St Peter and St Paul, Langham, Rutland
You leave Oakham on the road into Leicestershire, and shortly come to the large, apparently undistinguished village of Langham. The name is one of the most common placenames in England, meaning simply 'long village'. But I remember this Langham for a reason I am sure many other people do. Twenty-odd years ago we used to go this way to visit friends in Derby, and if you wound down the car window at Langham you might just catch a delicious whiff of malted barley being heated, for the village was home to one of the great independent family breweries of England, Ruddles.
The day came when Ruddles was taken over Morlands of Abingdon, who closed the Langham brewery, but who were in their turn taken over by the rapacious Greene King, who closed the Abingdon brewery as well as the Langham one, and switched production of both Ruddles and Morland's Old Speckled Hen to Bury St Edmunds. But of course neither beer was ever the same.
Ruddles was a victim of its own success. In 1996, Ruddles County bitter was voted the best beer in the world no less, and was advertised on national commercial television. It even achieved 'protected geographical status', one of only three English beers to do so. But by then the brewery had only a year of its life left. I remember seeing the brewery buildings closed and derelict soon after, but they are all gone today, to be replaced by typically characterless housing. The name remains in Ruddles Avenue.
Not far off is the church of St Peter and St Paul, which Pevsner records as being large and imposing, which is certainly true, although it is a bit quirky as well, because the huge south transept is no longer balanced by the one on the north side, giving the church the shape of a letter T.
The tall spire is visible for miles, and the church is set in a wide, open churchyard. As Pevsner also observes, the interior is large, airy and spacious, but perhaps a little dull, and this is not unfair. The leaven in the lump is one of the largest expanses of Ninian Comper glass in the country, the vast windows in the east of the chancel (the orders of angels, 1907) and the transept (a selection of favourite Saints, 1912) both being his. Otherwise there is not much to set the pulses racing, but it is all pleasant enough and obviously well-loved, looked after and used.
Outside in the churchyard I noticed the grave of Sir Kenneth Ruddle, a member of the brewing family dynasty. All gone today.