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"The Church of Mother of God before Týn (in Czech Kostel Matky Boží před Týnem, also Týnský chrám (Týn Church) or just Týn), often translated as Church of Our Lady before Týn, is a Gothic church and a dominant feature of the Old Town of Prague, Czech Republic. It has been the main church of this part of the city since the 14th century. The church's two towers are 80 m high, and each tower's spire is topped by eight smaller spires in two layers of four.
In the 11th century, the Old Town plaza area was occupied by a Romanesque church, which was built for foreign merchants coming to the nearby Týn Courtyard. It was replaced by an early Gothic Church of Our Lady before Týn in 1256. Construction of the present church began in the 14th century. The church was designed in the late Gothic style under the influence of Matthias of Arras and later Peter Parler. By the beginning of the 15th century, construction was almost complete; only the towers, the gable and roof were missing. The church was controlled by Hussites for two centuries, including John of Rokycan, future archbishop of Prague, who became the church's vicar in 1427. The building was completed in the 1450s, while the gable and northern tower were completed shortly thereafter during the reign of George of Poděbrady (1453–1471). His sculpture was placed on the gable, below a huge golden chalice, the symbol of the Hussites. The southern tower was not completed until 1511, under architect Matěj Rejsek.
The lost Battle of White Mountain (1620) ushered in an era of harsh recatholicisation (part of the Counter-Reformation). Consequently, the sculptures of "heretic king" George of Poděbrady and the chalice were removed in 1626 and replaced by a sculpture of the Virgin Mary, featuring a giant halo made by melting down the chalice. In 1679 the church was struck by lightning, and the subsequent fire heavily damaged the old vault, which was later replaced by a lower Baroque vault.
Renovation works carried out in 1876–1895 were later reversed during extensive exterior renovation works in the years 1973–1995. Interior renovation is still in progress.
The northern portal is an example of Gothic sculpture from the Parler workshop, with a relief depicting the Crucifixion. The main entrance is located on the church's western face, through a narrow passage between the houses in front of the church.
The strikingly vertical, basilically arranged three-aisled Gothic church contains a pair of Gothic prismatic towers in the west. In the east, the church is terminated by a short presbytery of one rectangular field, polygonal closed by four sides of the octagon. The side aisles are finished with deep polygonal chapels with five sides of the octagon. The side aisles are vaulted with five cross-ribbed vaults on an almost square floor plan, which is joined by one cross rib vault in the tower. The nave and the presbytery are then vaulted by six rectangular, wide-ranging fields of compressed Baroque arches with triangular sections. The side aisles have retained the original Gothic ribbed vault. The church is illuminated by a number of cantilevered Gothic windows with stone tracery. The church is accessible by four Gothic portals. The northern portal has a relief in the tympanum depicting three scenes from Christ's Passion in multi- figured compositions. High-quality sculptural work is one of the most important monuments of Gothic sculpture of the pre- Hussite period in our country. The pair of towers is topped with decorated cantilevered Late Gothic octagonal helmets, which are complemented by a gallery, four corner turrets, and, halfway through, another four decorative turrets. There is a Gothic gable containing the Baroque relief of the Madonna, that is surrounded by rows of finials in between the towers.
The Old Town of Prague (Czech: Staré Město pražské, German: Prager Altstadt) is a medieval settlement of Prague, Czech Republic. It was separated from the outside by a semi-circular moat and wall, connected to the Vltava river at both of its ends. The moat is now covered up by the streets (from north to south-west) Revoluční, Na Příkopě, and Národní—which remain the official boundary of the cadastral community of Old Town. It is now part of Prague 1.
Notable places in the Old Town include Old Town Square and Astronomical Clock. The Old Town is surrounded by the New Town of Prague. Across the river Vltava connected by the Charles Bridge is the Lesser Town of Prague (Czech: Malá Strana). The former Jewish Town (Josefov) is located in the northwest corner of Old Town heading towards the Vltava.
Prague (/ˈprɑːɡ/ PRAHG; Czech: Praha [ˈpraɦa]; German: Prag [pʁaːk]; Latin: Praga) is the capital and largest city of the Czech Republic and the historical capital of Bohemia. On the Vltava river, Prague is home to about 1.3 million people. The city has a temperate oceanic climate, with relatively warm summers and chilly winters.
Prague is a political, cultural, and economic hub of central Europe, with a rich history and Romanesque, Gothic, Renaissance and Baroque architectures. It was the capital of the Kingdom of Bohemia and residence of several Holy Roman Emperors, most notably Charles IV (r. 1346–1378) and Rudolf II (r. 1575–1611).
It was an important city to the Habsburg monarchy and Austro-Hungarian Empire. The city played major roles in the Bohemian and the Protestant Reformations, the Thirty Years' War and in 20th-century history as the capital of Czechoslovakia between the World Wars and the post-war Communist era.
Prague is home to a number of well-known cultural attractions, many of which survived the violence and destruction of 20th-century Europe. Main attractions include Prague Castle, Charles Bridge, Old Town Square with the Prague astronomical clock, the Jewish Quarter, Petřín hill and Vyšehrad. Since 1992, the historic center of Prague has been included in the UNESCO list of World Heritage Sites.
The city has more than ten major museums, along with numerous theatres, galleries, cinemas, and other historical exhibits. An extensive modern public transportation system connects the city. It is home to a wide range of public and private schools, including Charles University in Prague, the oldest university in Central Europe.
Prague is classified as a "Alpha-" global city according to GaWC studies. In 2019, the city was ranked as 69th most livable city in the world by Mercer. In the same year, the PICSA Index ranked the city as 13th most livable city in the world. Its rich history makes it a popular tourist destination and as of 2017, the city receives more than 8.5 million international visitors annually. In 2017, Prague was listed as the fifth most visited European city after London, Paris, Rome, and Istanbul.
Bohemia (Latin Bohemia, German Böhmen, Polish Czechy) is a region in the west of the Czech Republic. Previously, as a kingdom, they were the center of the Czech Crown. The root of the word Czech probably corresponds to the meaning of man. The Latin equivalent of Bohemia, originally Boiohaemum (literally "land of Battles"), which over time also influenced the names in other languages, is derived from the Celtic tribe of the Boios, who lived in this area from the 4th to the 1st century BC Bohemia on it borders Germany in the west, Austria in the south, Moravia in the east and Poland in the north. Geographically, they are bounded from the north, west and south by a chain of mountains, the highest of which are the Krkonoše Mountains, in which the highest mountain of Bohemia, Sněžka, is also located. The most important rivers are the Elbe and the Vltava, with the fertile Polabean Plain extending around the Elbe. The capital and largest city of Bohemia is Prague, other important cities include, for example, Pilsen, Karlovy Vary, Kladno, Ústí nad Labem, Liberec, Hradec Králové, Pardubice and České Budějovice, Jihlava also lies partly on the historical territory of Bohemia." - info from Wikipedia.
Summer 2019 I did a solo cycling tour across Europe through 12 countries over the course of 3 months. I began my adventure in Edinburgh, Scotland and finished in Florence, Italy cycling 8,816 km. During my trip I took 47,000 photos.
Now on Instagram.
heresienstadt concentration camp
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
For other uses of "Theresienstadt", see Theresienstadt (disambiguation).
Coordinates: 50°30′48″N 14°10′1″E
Theresienstadt concentration camp archway with the phrase "Arbeit macht frei" (work makes (you) free), placed over the entrance in a number of Nazi concentration camps
Location of Terezín within the modern Czech Republic
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Jews on selection ramp at Auschwitz, May 1944
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Theresienstadt concentration camp, also referred to as Theresienstadt ghetto,[1][2][3] was a concentration camp established by the SS during World War II in the garrison city of Terezín (German: Theresienstadt), located in German-occupied Czechoslovakia.
Tens of thousands of people died there, some killed outright and others dying from malnutrition and disease. More than 150,000 other persons (including tens of thousands of children) were held there for months or years, before being sent by rail transports to their deaths at Treblinka and Auschwitz extermination camps in occupied Poland, as well as to smaller camps elsewhere.[4]
Contents
1 History
2 Small Fortress
3 Main fortress
4 Command and control authority
5 Internal organisation
6 Industrial labour
7 Western European Jews arrive at camp
8 Improvements made by inmates
9 Unequal treatment of prisoners
10 Cultural activities and legacy
11 Use as propaganda tool
12 Statistics
12.1 Allied POWs
13 Notable prisoners who died at the camp
14 Notable survivors
15 Final months at the camp in 1945
16 Postwar trials
17 Works about Theresienstadt
17.1 Documentary films
17.2 Dramatic films
17.3 Plays
17.4 Music
17.5 Literature
18 See also
19 Notes
20 References
21 Further reading
22 External links
History
The fortress of Theresienstadt in the north-west region of Bohemia was constructed between the years 1780 and 1790 on the orders of the Austrian emperor Joseph II. It was designed as part of a projected but never fully realised fort system of the monarchy, another piece being the fort of Josefov. Theresienstadt was named for the mother of the emperor, Maria Theresa of Austria, who reigned as archduchess of Austria in her own right from 1740 until 1780. By the end of the 19th century, the facility was obsolete as a fort; in the 20th century, the fort was used to accommodate military and political prisoners.
From 1914 until 1918, Gavrilo Princip was imprisoned here, after his conviction for the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria and his wife on June 28, 1914, a catalyst for World War I. Princip died in Cell Number 1 from tuberculosis on April 28, 1918.
After Germany invaded and occupied Czechoslovakia, on June 10, 1940, the Gestapo took control of Terezín and set up a prison in the "Small Fortress" (kleine Festung, the town citadel on the east side of the Ohře river). The first inmates arrived June 14. By the end of the war, the small fortress had processed more than 32,000 prisoners, of whom 5,000 were female; they were imprisoned for varying sentences. The prisoners were predominantly Czech at first, and later other nationalities were imprisoned there, including citizens of the Soviet Union, Poland, Germany, and Yugoslavia. Most were political prisoners.[5]
By November 24, 1941, the Nazis adapted the "Main Fortress" (große Festung, i.e. the walled town of Theresienstadt), located on the west side of the river, as a ghetto.[5] Jewish survivors have recounted the extensive work they had to do for more than a year in the camp, to try to provide basic facilities for the tens of thousands of people who came to be housed there.
From 1942, the Nazis interned the Jews of Bohemia and Moravia, elderly Jews and persons of "special merit" in the Reich, and several thousand Jews from the Netherlands and Denmark. Theresienstadt thereafter became known as the destination for the Altentransporte ("elderly transports") of German Jews, older than 65. Although in practice the ghetto, run by the SS, served as a transit camp for Jews en route to extermination camps, it was also presented as a "model Jewish settlement" for propaganda purposes.[6][7]
On November 11, 1943, commandant Anton Burger ordered the entire camp population, approximately 40,000 people at that time, to stand in freezing weather during a camp census (sometimes referred to as the "Bohušovicer Kessel Census"). About 300 prisoners died of hypothermia as a result.[8]
During a 1944 Red Cross visit, and in a propaganda film, the Nazis presented Theresienstadt to outsiders as a model Jewish settlement, but it was a concentration camp. More than 33,000 inmates died as a result of malnutrition, disease, or the sadistic treatment by their captors.[9] Whereas some survivors claimed that the prison population reached 75,000 at one time, according to official records, the highest figure reached (on September 18, 1942) was 58,491. They were crowded into barracks designed to accommodate 7,000 combat troops.[10]
In the autumn of 1944, the Nazis began the liquidation of the ghetto, deporting more prisoners to Auschwitz and other camps; in one month, they deported 24,000 victims[11] (about 18,000 in 11 transports between September 28 and October 28).
Small Fortress
Crematorium
The "Small Fortress" (Malá pevnost in Czech, Kleine Festung in German) was part of the fortification on the left side of the river Ohře. Beginning in 1940, the Gestapo used it as a prison, the largest in the Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia. The first inmates arrived on June 14, 1940. By the end of the war, 32,000 prisoners, of whom 5,000 were female, passed through the Small Fortress. It was separate from and unrelated to the Jewish ghetto in the main fortress on the river's right side. An estimated 32,000 people were taken to the prison; most were usually deported later to a concentration camp.
Main fortress
In the spring of 1942, the Nazis expelled the 7,000 non-Jewish Czechs living in Terezín, and closed off the town. The Nazis established the ghetto and concentration camp in the main fortress on the east side of the river.
SS-Hauptsturmführer Siegfried Seidl[12] served as the first camp commandant, beginning in 1941. Seidl oversaw the labour of 342 Jewish artisans and carpenters, known as the Aufbaukommando, who converted the fortress into a concentration camp. Although the Aufbaukommando were promised that they and their families would be spared transport, during the liquidation of the camp in September 1944, all were transported to Auschwitz-Birkenau[13] for Sonderbehandlung, or "special treatment", i.e. immediate gassing of all upon arrival.[14]
Command and control authority
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The camp, Theresienstadt/Terezin, was a hybrid of ghetto and concentration camp, (KZ), with features of both. It was established by order of the SS-Reichssicherheitshauptamt (RSHA) in 1941 and administered by its GESTAPO Amt of the RSHA, Department IV-B-4, (Jews), headed by Eichmann who oversaw the ghetto and its SS-Commandant; he, in turn, was in charge of the daily ghetto administration, the SS officers, about 12, and the Czech gendarmes, who collaborated with the Germans; these last two were in charge of security and guard duties. An internal police force, run by Jewish inmates, answered directly to the Jewish self-administration and indirectly to the SS-commandant. Thus was the organisation responsible for the enslavement, deportation, and murder of the Jews. Theresienstadt was also the only KZ excluded from the control of SS-Wirtschafthauptamt (main economic administration office) under Pohl and was classified as "concentration camp, class 4" (mildest). Furthermore, the SS-men in this ghetto/concentration camp were not members of the Waffen-SS usually guarding concentration camps, as reported sometimes. Pohl and the SS-Wirtschafthauptamt were in control of all concentration camps except Theresienstadt.
Stone marking the burial of ashes of 15,000 victims of Terezín at the New Jewish Cemetery, Prague
Gestapo and Sicherheitsdienst oversaw the day-to-day operations of the Kleine Festung, (Small Fortress), a prison of the Prague Gestapo which was controlled by the 'Higher SS and Police Führer', (HSSPF), Karl Frank, who reported directly to Himmler rather than the Office of the Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia, a civilian department.
SS-Hauptsturmführer Ernst Möhs (1898–1945) was Eichmann's liaison-officer in Theresienstadt. During the camp's operations, three officers served as camp commandant: Siegfried Seidl, Anton Burger, and Karl Rahm.
Internal organisation
As in other European ghettos, the Nazis required the Jews to select a Jewish Council, which nominally governed the ghetto. In Theresienstadt, this was known as the "Cultural Council"; later it was called the "Jewish self-government of Theresienstadt".[15] The first of the Jewish elders of Theresienstadt was Jakob Edelstein, a Polish-born Zionist and former head of the Prague Jewish community. He served until 1943, when he was deported to Auschwitz and shot to death after being forced to watch the executions of his wife and son.[16] The second was Paul Eppstein (de), a sociologist originally from Mannheim, Germany. Earlier, Eppstein was the speaker of the Reichsvereinigung der Juden in Deutschland, the central organisation of Jews in Nazi Germany. He served until the autumn of 1944, when he was allegedly shot in the Small Fortress on Yom Kippur.
Benjamin Murmelstein, a Lvov-born rabbi from Vienna, had been part of the Cultural Council in Vienna after the Anschluss. As in other cities, the Jews were charged by the Nazis with organising actions in the Jewish community, including selection of people for transport when the Germans decided to deport them, beginning in 1942. Murmelstein was also deported to Theresienstadt. In the autumn of 1944, he succeeded Eppstein. He and other prominent Jews of the Cultural Council were deported to Auschwitz in the liquidation of the ghetto, but he and some others survived the war. He and other Jewish elders have been extremely controversial figures, condemned for years for what was seen as their collaboration with the Nazis.
In the 21st century, there has been some reassessment, given the conditions of the times. The Last of the Unjust, released in 2013, is a documentary centring on interviews with Murmelstein that were filmed by Claude Lanzmann in 1975, during the production of his masterwork Shoah. The interviews were not used in the earlier film.[17][18]
In the last days of the ghetto, Jiří Vogel of Prague served as the elder. From 1943 to 1945, Leo Baeck was the speaker of the Council of Elders of Theresienstadt. Before being deported to the camp from Berlin, he had served as the head of the Reichsvereinigung der Juden in Deutschland. He survived Theresienstadt, and emigrated to London after the war.[19]
Industrial labour
Theresienstadt was used to supply the German war effort with a source of Jewish slave labour. Their major contribution was the splitting of local ore mined from Czechoslovakian mica. Blind prisoners were often spared deportation by assignment to this task. Others manufactured boxes or coffins, or sprayed military uniforms with a white dye to provide camouflage for German soldiers on the Russian front. According to ex-prisoners, Theresienstadt was also a sorting and re-distribution centre for underwear and clothing confiscated from Jews:
... from all parts of Germany, the baggage taken away from the Jews was sent to Theresienstadt, and there it was packaged, sorted-out in order to be sent out all over the country, to various cities, for the people who were bombed-out and suffered a shortage of underwear and clothing.[15]
Western European Jews arrive at camp
Among the western European Jews deported to the camp were 456 Jews from Denmark, sent to Theresienstadt in 1943. They had not been able to escape to neutral Sweden before the Nazis started the deportation. Included also in the transports were European Jewish children whom Danish organisations had tried to conceal in foster homes.
The arrival of the Danes was significant, as their government gained access to the ghetto for the International Red Cross in 1944, to view conditions there. (This took place after the D-Day Invasion of Normandy by the Allies). Most European governments, when occupied by the Nazis, had not tried to protect their fellow Jewish citizens. Historians believe the Germans were trying to keep the Danes satisfied as they had impressed many of their workers in war factories. In addition, the tide of war was changing.
Improvements made by inmates
Survivor Friedrich Schlaefrig described in 1946 how the early residents of Theresienstadt, with the assistance of the Germans, overcame the lack of water to the town:
We had no water system in Theresienstadt ... a number of wells were contaminated in a short time with typhoid fever. That was the reason that we had to close a number of wells, and had to undertake to extend the existing water pipe system. That was really a great piece of public works created under Jewish inventiveness and by Jewish labor. They expanded the water supply system, and have achieved [a condition] that we not only produced for the people good drinking water or, at least, not objectionable drinking water, but that also the toilet installations could be flushed with water, so that these unhygienic conditions were removed ... The Germans have permitted it, and we even obtained through them the material, because otherwise it would have been impossible ...[15]
After this, a fire department was established, made up of Jewish prisoners, with an acting fire chief. They relied on the newly constructed water system. Constructing the water system was only part of the major work undertaken by Jews, in what was called the technical service, in the first year of the camp. They had to make many more changes to buildings to adapt the fortress and barracks for the overcrowded conditions that the Germans imposed.[15]
Unequal treatment of prisoners
After the changes and sprucing up to prepare for the Red Cross visit, in the spring of 1944, the Gestapo screened the Jews of Theresienstadt, classifying them according to social prominence. Many of the "Prominente" were profiled, with photographs, among a collection of documents smuggled out after the liberation..[20] The Gestapo reassigned some 150 to 200 prominent individuals to single rooms that would be shared by only two people, so that a husband and wife could live by themselves. Several members of the Cultural Council were included among the Prominente, due to the influence of Benjamin Murmelstein, then the "Jewish elder" of Theresienstadt. Former prisoners suggested in statements that those who held positions of authority practised nepotism, trying to protect individuals close to them, while struggling to avoid deportation and death in the closing days of the war. Murmelstein and other members of the Cultural Council were still deported in the final liquidation, but he and some others survived the war.[15]
Cultural activities and legacy
Theresienstadt was originally designated as a model community for middle-class Jews from Germany, Czechoslovakia, and Austria. Many educated Jews were inmates of Theresienstadt. In a propaganda effort designed to fool the western allies, the Nazis publicised the camp for its rich cultural life. In reality, according to a Holocaust survivor, "during the early period there were no [musical] instruments whatsoever, and the cultural life came to develop itself only ... when the whole management of Theresienstadt was steered into an organized course."[15] An extremely rich cultural life then ensued, with lectures, recitals, poetry readings, concerts, and so on. At least four concert orchestras were organised in the camp, as well as chamber groups and jazz ensembles. Several stage performances were produced and attended by camp inmates. Many prominent artists from Czechoslovakia, Austria, and Germany were imprisoned at Theresienstadt, along with writers, scientists, jurists, diplomats, musicians, and scholars, and many of these contributed to the camp's cultural life.
The community in Theresienstadt tried to ensure that all the children who passed through the camp continued with their education. The Nazis required all camp children over a certain age to work, but accepted working on stage as employment. The prisoners achieved the children's education under the guise of work or cultural activity. Daily classes and sports activities were held. The community published a magazine, Vedem. The history of the magazine was studied and narrated by the Italian writer Matteo Corradini in his book "La repubblica delle farfalle" (The Republic of the Butterflies"). The English actor Sir Ben Kingsley read that novel, speaking on January 27, 2015 during the ceremony held at Theresienstadt to mark International Holocaust Memorial Day.
Ilse Weber, a noted Czech Jewish poet, writer and musician for children, was held in the camp from February 1942, and worked as a night nurse in the camp's children's infirmary. She volunteered to join a transport of children to Auschwitz in November 1944, where she, her son Tommy, and all the children with her were murdered in the gas chambers immediately on arrival.
Czech composer Rafael Schächter
The conductor Rafael Schächter was among those held at the camp, and he formed an adult chorus. He directed it in a performance of the massive and complex Requiem by Giuseppe Verdi. Schächter conducted 15 more performances of the work before he was deported to Auschwitz-Birkenau.[21]
Violinist Julius Stwertka, a former leading member of the Boston Symphony Orchestra and co-leader of the Vienna Philharmonic, died in the camp on December 17, 1942.
The pianist Alice Herz-Sommer performed 100 concerts while imprisoned at Theresienstadt. She and Edith Steiner-Kraus, her friend and colleague, both survived the camp, emigrated to Israel after the war, and became professors of music, Herz-Sommer at the Jerusalem Academy of Music, and Steiner-Kraus at the Tel Aviv Academy of Music.[22] In March 2012, a biography of Herz-Sommer was published.[23] At the time of her death in London in February 2014, at 110, she was the oldest known Holocaust survivor.[24]
Martin Roman and Coco Schumann were part of the jazz band Ghetto Swingers.
Artist and art teacher Friedl Dicker-Brandeis created drawing classes for children in the ghetto, among whom were Hana Brady ("Hana's suitcase"). They produced more than 4,000 drawings, which she hid in two suitcases before she was deported to Auschwitz in the final liquidation. The collection was preserved from destruction, and was discovered a decade later. Most of these drawings can now be seen at The Jewish Museum in Prague, whose archive of the Holocaust section administers the Terezín Archive Collection. Others are on display at Yad Vashem in Jerusalem.
The children of the camp also wrote stories and poems. Some were preserved and later published in a collection called I Never Saw Another Butterfly, its title taken from a poem by young Jewish Czech poet Pavel Friedman. He had arrived at Terezín on April 26, 1942, and later died at Auschwitz.
Painter Malva Schalek (Malvina Schalkova) was deported to Theresienstadt in February 1942. She produced more than 100 drawings and watercolours portraying life in the camp. On May 18, 1944, because of her refusal to paint the portrait of a collaborationist doctor, she was deported to Auschwitz, where she was killed.[25]
The artist and architect Norbert Troller produced drawings and watercolours of life inside Theresienstadt, to be smuggled to the outside world. When the Gestapo found out, he was arrested and deported to Auschwitz. His memoirs and two dozen of his artworks were published in 1991.[26]
The composer Viktor Ullmann was interned in September 1942, and died at Auschwitz in October 1944. He composed some twenty works at Theresienstadt, including the one-act opera Der Kaiser von Atlantis (The Emperor of Atlantis or The Refusal of Death). It was planned for performance at the camp, but the Nazis withdrew permission when it was in rehearsal, probably because the authorities perceived its allegorical intent. The opera was first performed in 1975, and shown in full on BBC television in Britain. It continues to be performed.
Music composed by inmates is featured in Terezín: The Music 1941–44, a two-CD set released in 1991.[27][28] The collection features music composed mostly in 1943 and 1944 by Pavel Haas, Gideon Klein, Hans Krása, and Viktor Ullmann while interned at Theresienstadt. Haas, Krása, and Ullmann died in Auschwitz concentration camp in 1944, and Klein died in Fürstengrube in 1945.[29]
In 2007, the album Terezín – Theresienstadt of music composed at Theresienstadt was released by the Swedish singer Anne Sofie von Otter, assisted by baritone Christian Gerhaher, pianists, and chamber musicians. In 2008, Bridge Records released a recital by Austrian baritone Wolfgang Holzmair and American pianist Russell Ryan that drew on a different selection of songs.
Use as propaganda tool
Cell
Main article: Theresienstadt (film)
Late in the war, after D-Day and the invasion of Normandy, the Nazis permitted representatives from the Danish Red Cross and the International Red Cross to visit Theresienstadt in order to dispel rumours about the extermination camps. The commission that visited on June 23, 1944, included E. Juel-Henningsen, the head physician at the Danish Ministry of Health, and Franz Hvass, the top civil servant at the Danish Foreign Ministry. Dr. Paul Eppstein was instructed by the SS to appear in the role of the mayor of Theresienstadt.[30]
Weeks of preparation preceded the visit. The area was cleaned up, and the Nazis deported many Jews to Auschwitz to minimise the appearance of overcrowding in Theresienstadt. Also deported in these actions were most of the Czechoslovak workers assigned to "Operation Embellishment". The Nazis directed the building of fake shops and cafés to imply that the Jews lived in relative comfort.
The Danes whom the Red Cross visited lived in freshly painted rooms, not more than three in a room. Rooms viewed may have included the homes of the "prominent" Jews of Theresienstadt, who were afforded the special privilege of having as few as two occupants to a room.[15] The guests attended a performance of a children's opera, Brundibár, which was written by inmate Hans Krása.
The Red Cross representatives were conducted on a tour following a predetermined path designated by a red line on a map. The representatives apparently did not attempt to divert from the tour route on which they were led by the Germans, who posed questions to the Jewish residents along the way. If the representatives asked residents questions directly, they were ignored, in accordance with the Germans' instructions to the residents prior to the tour. Despite this, the Red Cross apparently formed a positive impression of the town.[15]
Following the successful use of Theresienstadt as a supposed model internment camp during the Red Cross visit, the Nazis decided to make a propaganda film there. It was directed by Jewish prisoner Kurt Gerron, an experienced director and actor; he had appeared with Marlene Dietrich in The Blue Angel. Shooting took eleven days, starting September 1, 1944.[31] After the film was completed, the director and most of the cast were deported to Auschwitz. Gerron was murdered by gas chamber on October 28, 1944.[32]
The film was intended to show how well the Jews were living under the purportedly benevolent protection of the Third Reich. If taken at face value, it documents the Jews of Theresienstadt living a relatively comfortable existence within a thriving cultural centre and functioning successfully during the hardships of World War II. They had to comply and perform according to Nazi orders. Often called The Führer Gives a Village to the Jews, the correct name of the film is Theresienstadt. Ein Dokumentarfilm aus dem jüdischen Siedlungsgebiet ("Terezin: A Documentary Film of the Jewish Resettlement").[a] As the film was not completed until near the end of the war, it was never distributed as intended, although a few screenings were held. Most of the film was destroyed, but some footage has survived.
Statistics
10 Kronen bill shown to the Red Cross committee. Ex-inmates of Theresienstadt have described how they each received 50 crowns every month with which to buy things.[33] Residents working at the camp were also paid in this currency,[15] a form of truck system.
Approximately 144,000 Jews were sent to Theresienstadt. Most inmates were Czech Jews, but 40,000 were from Germany, 15,000 from Austria, 5,000 from the Netherlands, and 300 from Luxembourg. In addition to the group of approximately 500 Jews from Denmark, Slovak and Hungarian Jews were deported to the ghetto. 1,600 Jewish children from Białystok, Poland, were deported from Theresienstadt to Auschwitz; none survived. About a quarter of the inmates (33,000) died in Theresienstadt, mostly because of the deadly conditions, which included hunger, stress, and disease. The typhus epidemic at the very end of war took an especially heavy toll.
About 88,000 prisoners were deported to Auschwitz and other extermination camps, including Treblinka. At the end of the war, 17,247 had survived. An estimated 15,000 children lived in the ghetto. Willy Groag, one of the youth care workers, mistakenly claimed after the war that only 93 survived.[34]
Allied POWs
During the war, Allied POWs who repeatedly attempted to escape from POW camps were sent to Theresienstadt as punishment. 21 British, 21 New Zealand, and 17 Australian POWs were held there.[35] Keeping POWs from signatory countries of the Geneva Convention in such camp conditions was a war crime. Many of the survivors suffered chronic physical and mental health problems for most of their lives.[35]
In 1964, Germany paid the British government £1 million as reparation for the illegal transfer of British POWs to Theresienstadt.[35] Britain made no provision for dominion troops. For many years, the governments of Australia and New Zealand denied that any of their servicemen had been held at the camp. In 1987, Australian Prime Minister Bob Hawke established a committee of investigation. It confirmed that POWs were held at Theresienstadt. The government then authorised payments of A$10,000 each to the Australian survivors of the camp. The New Zealand government also arranged for compensation for the New Zealand survivors.[35]
"Project Reign"
- a photo series inspired by the CW's period drama, Reign, which centers on the life of Mary, Queen of Scots and her marriage to Francis Valois, King of France.
St Peter and St Paul, Salle, Norfolk
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
The greatest East Anglian churches were built in the 15th century. It is often observed that there can never have been enough people to fill them, but this is to miss the point. They were never intended for the forms of worship to which they now play host.
The shape of a late medieval church is not an accident. East Anglian parish churches of the 15th century had many common features; wide aisles to enable liturgical processions, a chancel for the celebration of Mass, places for other altars, niches for devotional statues, a focus towards the Blessed Sacrament in the east, a large nave for social activities, large windows to fill the building with light, a roof of angels to proclaim a hymn of praise, a pulpit for the preaching of orthodox doctrine, benches to enable the people to hear the preaching, and carvings, stained glass and wall paintings of the sacraments, Gospels and rosary mysteries, of the catechism and teaching of the Catholic Church.
As Le Corbusier might have said if he'd been around at the time, a late medieval East Anglian church was a machine for making Catholicism happen.
No longer, of course. The radical and violent fracture in popular religion in the middle years of the 16th century gave birth to the Church of England, and the new Church inherited buildings that were often unsuitable for congregational protestant liturgy - a problem that the Church of England has never satisfactorily solved.
Over the centuries, the problem has been addressed in different ways; celebrating Communion at a table in the nave, for example, and blocking off the chancel for other uses. Although this was challenged by the Laudian party in the early part of the 17th century, it was the way that many parishes reinvented their buildings, and most were to stay like that until the middle years of the 19th century. Some went further: a pulpit placed halfway down the nave, or even at the back of the church, meant that the seating could be arranged so that it no longer focused towards the east, thus breaking the link with Catholic (and Laudian) sacramentalism. For several centuries, Anglican churches focused on the pulpit rather than the altar.
With the rise of the 19th century Oxford Movement, all this underwent another dramatic change, with the great majority of our medieval parish churches having their interiors restored to their medieval integrity, reinventing themselves as sacramental spaces. This Victorian conception of the medieval suited itself to congregational worship, and responded in a satisfactory way to the structure of the building. But still, of course, they weren't full.
This 19th century re-imagining is the condition in which we find most of them today, and Anglican theologians everywhere are asking the question that the Catholic Church asked itself at Vatican II in the 1960s - is a 19th century liturgical space really appropriate for the Church of the 21st century?
It requires a shift in the mind to recall that these were not originally Anglican buildings, but it is a shift we need to make. The idea of a previously unchanging Church now confronting the demands of the modern age is wholly incorrect. These buildings have faced a variety of challenges over the centuries; they have only ever been truly suitable for the use for which they were originally built six hundred years ago.
Two of the largest late medieval churches in East Anglia are just three miles apart, at Cawston and Salle in the middle of Norfolk. These clusters are not uncommon; think of Blythburgh, Southwold and Walberswick in Suffolk, for example, or Lavenham and Long Melford in the same county. But Cawston and Salle are really close - you can see the tower of one from the other. St Peter and St Paul is a complete example of a 15th century rebuilding; St Agnes at Cawston retains its elegant earlier chancel.
If not merely for congregational worship, why were these churches built so big? Impressive as they seem now, they must have been awesome at the time they were built, since they were the only substantial buildings outside of the towns, and would have dwarfed the houses of the parish. Some were in villages; but many were not. Salle church has always been out in the fields. Why are earlier East Anglian churches not so massive? Certainly, East Anglia has its cathedrals; Norwich and Ely pre-date the great churches by several centuries, and Bury Abbey was bigger than either before its destruction. The great majority of East Anglia's churches are piecemeal affairs; typically, a 13th century chancel, which must have been the most substantial part of the building when it was first erected, an early 14th century nave and tower, and perhaps later elaborations of the piece with aisles and a clerestory. Salle and Cawston churches are both rebuildings of earlier structures, but a surprising number of East Anglian churches were not rebuilt, until perhaps the Victorians saw the need for a new chancel, or new aisles. Often, these smaller churches are exquisitely beautiful, as if beauty rather than grandeur was the imperative.
And then, towards the end of the 1340s, a great pestilence swept across Europe; in East Anglia, outside of Norwich which got off lightly, it killed perhaps a half of the population. In emptying the countryside, it completely altered the economic balance; a shortage of labour gave new power to the survivors, perhaps setting in place the preconditions for the capitalism that we can recognise by the 16th century. And, in extinguishing the flower of Decorated architecture, it also gave birth to the great love affair between the late medieval mind and death.
In Catholic theology there is no great divide between the dead and the living. For the medieval Christian, communion was something that existed between all members of the parish, whether alive or dead. Thus, prayers were said for the souls of the dead (who, it was presumed, were saying prayers for the souls of the living).
To ensure that prayers were said for them after their death, the very richest people endowed chantries. These were foundations, by which priests could be employed to say masses for their souls in perpetuity. A priest in such a capacity was called a chantry priest. The masses would be said at a chantry altar, probably in the nave; if the person was rich enough, this might be enclosed in a specially constructed chantry chapel. Many churches had them. After the Reformation, many were pressed into service as family mausoleums or pews.
For the poorest people, there was the opportunity to join a guild, where, for a penny or so a week, they could ensure that the guild chantry priest would say masses for their soul after their death (along with those of the other dead members of the guild). Many of these guilds were organised around particular occupations or devotions, and became a focus of social activity. The investment that produced the income to pay the chantry priests was most commonly in land. The church or guild oversaw the management of the land, which is one of the reasons we have an image of a wealthy pre-Reformation church. Land bought to produce income in this way was known as chantry land, a name surviving in many places today. Those who invested in chantries (and few and far between must have been those who didn't) presumed that they were ensuring prayers and masses in perpetuity; but, of course, this was not to be.
Bequests and chantries seem to have reached their peak in the 15th century. Perhaps the Black Death reinforced the urgency of the task. People did not merely want to be remembered; they wanted to be prayed for. And so, those who could afford it ensured that this was not forgotten by leaving their wealth in the very place that was at the centre of communion: the parish church. The richest paid for the additions of aisles and chapels, or for a new font or rood screen. This was not just a naked desire for the recognition of their family status. There was an underlying insecurity to the new landed classes. They wanted to control their destiny beyond their deaths. And so, their gift would be recorded in the form of a dedicatory inscription. One of these survives on the screen at Cawston, and another on the base of the font at Salle. Orate pro anima, they begin, "Pray for the soul of...", an injunction urgently emphasised by the pre-Reformation liturgy, only to be cursed and defaced by the later Anglicans and puritans. Stained glass was another common gift, as well as images, candlesticks, furnishings. Thus were many churches developed piecemeal.
But sometimes, where a parish could rely on a steady supply of substantial bequests, they might be channelled into a complete rebuilding, as at Salle, a summa cum laude apothesosis, where the new church of the late 15th century survives in pretty much its original form. Sometimes, a single wealthy family would shape and direct the rebuilding of a church. One of the richest families in East Anglia in the 14th and 15th centuries was the de la Poles, the Earls of Suffolk. Their mark can be found throughout East Anglia, but most famously and substantially at Wingfield in Suffolk, and at Cawston in Norfolk. Theirs was a long term project; at Cawston, the tower predates the furnishings of the nave and chancel by almost a century.
So why so vast? Certainly, it was ad maiorem deo gloria, to the Greater Glory of God; but it was also to the greater glory of the de la Poles and their contemporaries. The great landed families of England came into the late middle ages full of confidence, and they were determined to demonstrate it. They had survived the Black Death. They had grown richer on its consequences. They had assumed a political power unthinkable a few centuries before. They controlled not just the wealth but the imagination of their parishes. They asserted orthodox Catholic dogma in the face of rural superstitions and abuses. They imposed a homogenised Catholicism on late medieval England. And, as they increased their secular power and influence, a time would come when they would embrace the Great Idea already beginning to take shape on the continent - protestantism. But that was still in the future.
And so, to Salle. St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower. The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets also as at Great Witchingham). The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the crowning glory of the building is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection, and the Ascension into Heaven.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a cock, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and Psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord!
The nave benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching. Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
St Peter and St Paul, Salle, Norfolk
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
The greatest East Anglian churches were built in the 15th century. It is often observed that there can never have been enough people to fill them, but this is to miss the point. They were never intended for the forms of worship to which they now play host.
The shape of a late medieval church is not an accident. East Anglian parish churches of the 15th century had many common features; wide aisles to enable liturgical processions, a chancel for the celebration of Mass, places for other altars, niches for devotional statues, a focus towards the Blessed Sacrament in the east, a large nave for social activities, large windows to fill the building with light, a roof of angels to proclaim a hymn of praise, a pulpit for the preaching of orthodox doctrine, benches to enable the people to hear the preaching, and carvings, stained glass and wall paintings of the sacraments, Gospels and rosary mysteries, of the catechism and teaching of the Catholic Church.
As Le Corbusier might have said if he'd been around at the time, a late medieval East Anglian church was a machine for making Catholicism happen.
No longer, of course. The radical and violent fracture in popular religion in the middle years of the 16th century gave birth to the Church of England, and the new Church inherited buildings that were often unsuitable for congregational protestant liturgy - a problem that the Church of England has never satisfactorily solved.
Over the centuries, the problem has been addressed in different ways; celebrating Communion at a table in the nave, for example, and blocking off the chancel for other uses. Although this was challenged by the Laudian party in the early part of the 17th century, it was the way that many parishes reinvented their buildings, and most were to stay like that until the middle years of the 19th century. Some went further: a pulpit placed halfway down the nave, or even at the back of the church, meant that the seating could be arranged so that it no longer focused towards the east, thus breaking the link with Catholic (and Laudian) sacramentalism. For several centuries, Anglican churches focused on the pulpit rather than the altar.
With the rise of the 19th century Oxford Movement, all this underwent another dramatic change, with the great majority of our medieval parish churches having their interiors restored to their medieval integrity, reinventing themselves as sacramental spaces. This Victorian conception of the medieval suited itself to congregational worship, and responded in a satisfactory way to the structure of the building. But still, of course, they weren't full.
This 19th century re-imagining is the condition in which we find most of them today, and Anglican theologians everywhere are asking the question that the Catholic Church asked itself at Vatican II in the 1960s - is a 19th century liturgical space really appropriate for the Church of the 21st century?
It requires a shift in the mind to recall that these were not originally Anglican buildings, but it is a shift we need to make. The idea of a previously unchanging Church now confronting the demands of the modern age is wholly incorrect. These buildings have faced a variety of challenges over the centuries; they have only ever been truly suitable for the use for which they were originally built six hundred years ago.
Two of the largest late medieval churches in East Anglia are just three miles apart, at Cawston and Salle in the middle of Norfolk. These clusters are not uncommon; think of Blythburgh, Southwold and Walberswick in Suffolk, for example, or Lavenham and Long Melford in the same county. But Cawston and Salle are really close - you can see the tower of one from the other. St Peter and St Paul is a complete example of a 15th century rebuilding; St Agnes at Cawston retains its elegant earlier chancel.
If not merely for congregational worship, why were these churches built so big? Impressive as they seem now, they must have been awesome at the time they were built, since they were the only substantial buildings outside of the towns, and would have dwarfed the houses of the parish. Some were in villages; but many were not. Salle church has always been out in the fields. Why are earlier East Anglian churches not so massive? Certainly, East Anglia has its cathedrals; Norwich and Ely pre-date the great churches by several centuries, and Bury Abbey was bigger than either before its destruction. The great majority of East Anglia's churches are piecemeal affairs; typically, a 13th century chancel, which must have been the most substantial part of the building when it was first erected, an early 14th century nave and tower, and perhaps later elaborations of the piece with aisles and a clerestory. Salle and Cawston churches are both rebuildings of earlier structures, but a surprising number of East Anglian churches were not rebuilt, until perhaps the Victorians saw the need for a new chancel, or new aisles. Often, these smaller churches are exquisitely beautiful, as if beauty rather than grandeur was the imperative.
And then, towards the end of the 1340s, a great pestilence swept across Europe; in East Anglia, outside of Norwich which got off lightly, it killed perhaps a half of the population. In emptying the countryside, it completely altered the economic balance; a shortage of labour gave new power to the survivors, perhaps setting in place the preconditions for the capitalism that we can recognise by the 16th century. And, in extinguishing the flower of Decorated architecture, it also gave birth to the great love affair between the late medieval mind and death.
In Catholic theology there is no great divide between the dead and the living. For the medieval Christian, communion was something that existed between all members of the parish, whether alive or dead. Thus, prayers were said for the souls of the dead (who, it was presumed, were saying prayers for the souls of the living).
To ensure that prayers were said for them after their death, the very richest people endowed chantries. These were foundations, by which priests could be employed to say masses for their souls in perpetuity. A priest in such a capacity was called a chantry priest. The masses would be said at a chantry altar, probably in the nave; if the person was rich enough, this might be enclosed in a specially constructed chantry chapel. Many churches had them. After the Reformation, many were pressed into service as family mausoleums or pews.
For the poorest people, there was the opportunity to join a guild, where, for a penny or so a week, they could ensure that the guild chantry priest would say masses for their soul after their death (along with those of the other dead members of the guild). Many of these guilds were organised around particular occupations or devotions, and became a focus of social activity. The investment that produced the income to pay the chantry priests was most commonly in land. The church or guild oversaw the management of the land, which is one of the reasons we have an image of a wealthy pre-Reformation church. Land bought to produce income in this way was known as chantry land, a name surviving in many places today. Those who invested in chantries (and few and far between must have been those who didn't) presumed that they were ensuring prayers and masses in perpetuity; but, of course, this was not to be.
Bequests and chantries seem to have reached their peak in the 15th century. Perhaps the Black Death reinforced the urgency of the task. People did not merely want to be remembered; they wanted to be prayed for. And so, those who could afford it ensured that this was not forgotten by leaving their wealth in the very place that was at the centre of communion: the parish church. The richest paid for the additions of aisles and chapels, or for a new font or rood screen. This was not just a naked desire for the recognition of their family status. There was an underlying insecurity to the new landed classes. They wanted to control their destiny beyond their deaths. And so, their gift would be recorded in the form of a dedicatory inscription. One of these survives on the screen at Cawston, and another on the base of the font at Salle. Orate pro anima, they begin, "Pray for the soul of...", an injunction urgently emphasised by the pre-Reformation liturgy, only to be cursed and defaced by the later Anglicans and puritans. Stained glass was another common gift, as well as images, candlesticks, furnishings. Thus were many churches developed piecemeal.
But sometimes, where a parish could rely on a steady supply of substantial bequests, they might be channelled into a complete rebuilding, as at Salle, a summa cum laude apothesosis, where the new church of the late 15th century survives in pretty much its original form. Sometimes, a single wealthy family would shape and direct the rebuilding of a church. One of the richest families in East Anglia in the 14th and 15th centuries was the de la Poles, the Earls of Suffolk. Their mark can be found throughout East Anglia, but most famously and substantially at Wingfield in Suffolk, and at Cawston in Norfolk. Theirs was a long term project; at Cawston, the tower predates the furnishings of the nave and chancel by almost a century.
So why so vast? Certainly, it was ad maiorem deo gloria, to the Greater Glory of God; but it was also to the greater glory of the de la Poles and their contemporaries. The great landed families of England came into the late middle ages full of confidence, and they were determined to demonstrate it. They had survived the Black Death. They had grown richer on its consequences. They had assumed a political power unthinkable a few centuries before. They controlled not just the wealth but the imagination of their parishes. They asserted orthodox Catholic dogma in the face of rural superstitions and abuses. They imposed a homogenised Catholicism on late medieval England. And, as they increased their secular power and influence, a time would come when they would embrace the Great Idea already beginning to take shape on the continent - protestantism. But that was still in the future.
And so, to Salle. St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower. The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets also as at Great Witchingham). The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the crowning glory of the building is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection, and the Ascension into Heaven.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a cock, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and Psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord!
The nave benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching. Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
I thought I knew Yarmouth, but I heard in a discussion about what was the largest parish church in England, that Great Yarmouth Minster was one that laid claim to that accolade.
Minster? In Yarmouth?
But seems there is much to the town I did not know, and clearly it needs to be further explored. But whilst in the area, riding on trains, I took and hour out to walk from the station to the Minster to have a look, if it was open.
Maybe they are more welcoming to visitors now, but two boards outside announcing the fact, so I went in and was stunned at the size of it, too much to take in really, but it was full of light and I was given a very warm welcome. This made a very lasting impression.
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The Norman-era Minster Church of St Nicholas in Great Yarmouth remains, due to its floor-surface area, England's largest parish church.[1] It was founded in 1101 by Herbert de Losinga, the first Bishop of Norwich,[2] and consecrated in 1119. Since its construction, it has been Great Yarmouth's parish church. It is cruciform, with a central tower, which may preserve a part of the original structure. Gradual alterations effectively changed the form of the building. Its nave is 26 feet (7.9 m) wide, and the church's total length is 236 feet (72 m).
In December 2011, the Bishop of Norwich officially designated it a Minster Church. It is not only used for religious services but is a hub for various other regional and civic events, including concerts by choirs, orchestras and other musical ensembles, art exhibitions and, during festivals and fayres, the church opens permitting stalls and traders inside.
The building, very possibly the town's oldest, is also its most visible, historic landmark. It sits in the central area of Great Yarmouth, close to the house of Anna Sewell.[2] The Transitional clerestoried nave, with columns alternately octagonal and circular, was rebuilt in the reign of King John. A portion of the chancel is of the same date. About fifty years later the aisles were widened, so that the nave is now, rather unusually, the narrowest part of the building. Immediately adjacent are two main graveyard areas: the Old Yard lies directly east behind the church, while the very substantial New Yard stretches for about half a mile to the north.
A grand west front with towers and pinnacles was constructed between 1330 and 1338, but a plague interrupted building extension plans. In the 16th century the ornamental brasses were cast into weights and the gravestones cut into grindstones. Within the church there were at one time 18 chapels, some maintained by guilds, others by private families, such as the Paxtons. At the Reformation the chapels were demolished and the building's valuable liturgical vessels sold off, the proceeds spent to widen the channel of the harbour.
During the Commonwealth period, the Independents appropriated the chancel, the Presbyterians the north aisle, while Churchmen were allowed the remainder of the building. The interior brick walls, erected at this time to separate the different portions of the building, remained until 1847. In 1864 the tower was restored, and the east end of the chancel rebuilt; between 1869 and 1870 the south aisle was rebuilt; and in 1884 the south transept, the west end of the nave and the north aisle underwent restoration.
During the Second World War, the building was bombed and nearly destroyed by fire. It was rebuilt by the architect Stephen Dykes Bower and re-consecrated in 1961. During reconstruction, the church temporarily used St Peter's Church on St Peter's Road. When St Nicholas re-opened, attendance at St Peter's declined until the 1960s, when a growing Greek community had use of it, and in 1981 it became St Spiridon's Greek Orthodox Church.
On 2 October 2011, the Lord Bishop of Norwich Graham James raised St. Nicholas to the status of a Minster Church, so marked on 9 December 2011 during the town's Civic Carol Service. Its formal title is now the Minster Church of St. Nicholas, Great Yarmouth.
On 13 October 2014 a memorial stone was unveiled to commemorate the deaths of thirteen people in 1981 Bristow Helicopters Westland Wessex crash.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Yarmouth_Minster
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I do like Great Yarmouth. More than anywhere else in East Anglia, with the possible exception of Kings Lynn, you feel that this is a place which has broken the surly bonds of proximity to London, which is, after all, fewer than 150 miles away, and instead yearns out for the sea, and Europe. Yarmouth takes its name from the mouth of the River Yare: tightly crammed onto a narrow tongue of land, surrounded on three sides by water, it retains its endearingly shabby character and a sense of its own singular history, despite the best efforts of the Luftwaffe and the Borough planners, who over the last half-century must rank as some of the most neglectful and bone-headed planners of any of England's medium-sized towns.
Great Yarmouth has a seedy brashness, a jollity which overwrites the hard times it has suffered, and it has suffered indeed: the town lost a greater percentage of its houses to German bombing during the Second World War than any other town in England. The disappearance of the fishing industry led to an unemployment rate of mining town proportions, and the rugged working class character of the town, without any significant areas of middle class villas or suburban metroland, has often been a poor advocate for itself.
Can there be a more hauntingly lovely town centre street in East Anglia than South Quay? On one side are the confident 19th and early 20th century buildings, the town hall, the banks, the merchants' houses, the town pubs, while on the other side is the quay of the steely, silent Yare, the great ships parked opposite the buildings. For Great Yarmouth is still a major port, and the warehouses on the Southtown side remind those who pass beneath the great red brick buildings on the far bank exactly where all this prosperity came from.
And a twenty minute walk will take you across the heart of the town to Yarmouth's wide, white, sandy beaches, for today this is above all else a seaside town, of course. And while the beaches are by no means as lovely as those of Lowestoft ten miles to the south, nothing can beat Yarmouth for the sheer number of its amusement arcades, its fairgrounds, its candy floss stands and its cheap tat shops. Kiss me quick and squeeze me slow: this feels like the seaside used to, like it ought to, before we got all sophisticated about such matters. It reminds me of my childhood. In summer, all Norwich seems to come here for a cheap and cheerful day out, and you cannot get a seat on the train for love nor money.
When I first knew Great Yarmouth as a child in the 1970s, the roads to the north of the town centre were lined with small hotels, and while these certainly still exist, the days when thousands of people came to Great Yarmouth for a two week holiday are now gone. The former hotels are now residential care homes, or divided up into flats and bedsits, which are still not called apartments, thank goodness. The vast coach park immediately to the north of the town centre is still discernible as the site of Yarmouth Beach station, which brought the holiday-makers here. In those days, Great Yarmouth had three railway stations, but now there is only one, with its single line playing host to an hourly shuttle into Norwich.
That the demand for cheap meals and takeaway food has not diminished is testified to by the large population of Greeks, mainly from Cyprus; they started arriving here during the days of the fascist dictatorship and the war in the 1970s. The vast former Anglican parish church of St Peter, redundant in the 1980s, has been happily reborn as the Greek Orthodox church of St Spiridon. Today, especially in the area to the south of the town centre, you are as likely to hear Greek spoken on the streets as English. And what English! This must be one of the last towns in England with a strong, identifiable accent of its own - people do not have Norfolk accents here, they have Great Yarmouth accents, which stand out in the streets of sophisticated Norwich as much as voices from Birmingham or Newcastle-upon-Tyne.
People who have never been here know Great Yarmouth from books, especially the opening few chapters of Charles Dickens's David Copperfield, for here it was that the Peggoty family lived in an upturned boat on the beach, and here it was that David was happy. Dickens was writing in the 1840s about a Great Yarmouth of a quarter of a century earlier, and you will find few traces of Dickens's Yarmouth today. Great Yarmouth underwent a massive building boom in the 1860s, and this and the modern era define its character above all else. But wandering around the Middlegate area you may be struck by how, among the dull and often crass buildings of the 1960s and 1970s, there is occasionally some extraordinary survival, a 16th century house wider at the top than the bottom, perhaps, or an early medieval tollhouse, or a grand 18th century frontage with a perfunctory building tacked on behind. This was the heart of the area destroyed by a succession of German bombing raids in 1941 and 1942. Because of Great Yarmouth's singular situation on a spit of land, its population lived crammed into narrow alleys called rows, many early medieval in origin, the bulk built in the 15th and 16th centuries. This unique medieval townscape of perhaps 140 rows survived up until those fateful nights. It was almost completely destroyed, with a consequent heavy loss of life. Hauntingly, several bombed buildings have been left exactly as they were after the destruction, in a railed off area behind the replacement Unitarian church.
It is easy to forget quite how prosperous Great Yarmouth was during the medieval period. As Bill Wilson reminds us in the revised Pevsner, at the time of the 1334 merchant's tax register, Yarmouth raised more in the subsidy than either Norwich or Lynn, which a hundred years before had been exceptionally prosperous places. Only York, Bristol and London were richer than Yarmouth on the eve of the Black Death; the town had provided three times more sailors for the attack on Calais than London, and in 1348 there were 220 boats on the Yare river mouth. But the following year the Black Death wiped out perhaps two-thirds of the townsfolk, and it would take Yarmouth hundreds of years to recover its former prosperity.
It was at this time that the town walls were completed, and it is still possible to trace the course of the walls today, especially to the south of the town. On three sides, the walls defended Yarmouth from the sea, on which it resolutely turned its back; on the river side, there was no wall. Within the walls, at its widest and most northerly point, the town had its market place, still a busy one, and further north than that, looking down the length of the market place, over the rows, the warehouse, along the river and out to the sea, they built a great church, dedicated to the patron saint of sailors, St Nicholas.
A hundred miles up the east coast is the great port city of Hull, which dwarfs the town of Great Yarmouth, but with which Great Yarmouth otherwise shares very much in common. There, the great late 15th Century church of Holy Trinity is claimed as the country's biggest, which may well be true in terms of its sheer bulk. But here in Yarmouth the medieval merchant wealth had done better than that, and here it was that, in terms of floor area, the burghers of Yarmouth built the largest church in England.
Whereas the Hull church towers over and dominates the medieval street plan, here in Great Yarmouth St Nicholas seems to sprawl, its width and length dwarfing the central tower. Holy Trinity is fully in proportion, a typical late medieval church writ large, but St Nicholas is not. This great building has an idiosyncrasy, and to visit it is to see a church in a new way. There are several reasons for this, not least that this building was largely complete a full 150 years before Holy Trinity. There is no clerestory, and hardly any of the language of Perpendicular which would inform and shape so many of England's great urban churches. The setting of the building below the level of the market place means that the overall impression is of the green of the vast copper roofs. To see it in the low sun of a cold winter's afternoon, with the stone and flintwork glowing and the frost beginning to gleam on the parapets, is to see one of East Anglia's most beautiful urban sights, I think.
Walking around the outside of the building is a not inconsiderable task, and you soon become acquainted with the rhythm of the flintwork, windows and stone dressing, which make it feel that it is all of a piece, which is an illusion, although there are reasons for it. The west front is vast, but hidden by trees and in any case visible only from a minor road.To the east of the chancel is a haunting 1840s gravestone which tells us that beneath this Stone rests two Babes that brought Happiness to their Parents although they are Dead. I wondered if Dickens had ever spotted it. And as you come back round to the south porch you'll find one of England's most unusual 19th century gravestones. It remembers George Beloe, a nine year old boy who was unfortunately drowned when the suspension bridge over the Bure, just outside of Yarmouth, collapsed in 1845. A large crowd had gathered on the bridge to watch a clown float down the river in a barrel pulled by geese, and the bridge collapsed when they surged from one side to the other as he went under. The full death toll was never known, because many of the victims must have been washed out to sea by the fast-flowing current. Seventy-nine bodies were recovered, most of them children. What makes George Beloe's headstone extraordinary is that it depicts, in stone relief, the collapse of the bridge. Now eroded by weather after more than a century and a half, you can still make out the two ends of the bridge, and the eye of God looking down as the deck collapses into the Bure.
Having made your circumnavigation, you can now step through the huge porch, which faces the market place, into the interior of this extraordinary building. You may know already what to expect, but if you do not then you will be struck by how outstandingly light and clean the interior is. As your eyes adjust to the great distances, you may then notice the curious pattern of the arcades which open and close vistas as you begin to wander, as if this was a maze of vast, low rooms. And then you would notice the jaunty, bleached Festival of Britain feel of the furnishings, the acreage of modern glass, most of it very good, and the uncluttered simplicity, and then it will strike you - there is nothing old here.
On the night of 24th June 1942, St Nicholas was completely destroyed by German bombing. All that was left standing were the outer walls and the tower, in danger of collapse. The stonework was utterly calcined by the fierce heat. In a town which had suffered so much over the previous twelve months, it was a greivous loss, and it would be almost twenty years before St Nicholas was open for business again. Essentially, it had to be rebuilt, using the surviving walls and tower. The chosen design was that of a relatively minor architect, but a man who would be responsible for the two great East Anglian church architectural controversies of the 20th Century, Stephen Dykes Bower.
It is inevitable that a comparison should be made with Coventry Cathedral, which also replaced a bombed predecessor. The two buildings are about the same size, the work was carried out over the same period of years in the late 1950s, and the two buildings opened just a year apart. But while Basil Spence's Coventry Cathedral is a fabulous, iconic structure in the spirit of the age and in the full flush of post-war enthusiasm, St Nicholas at first appears little more than an exercise in pedantic and ponderous medievalism. As Bill Wilson points out, the £315,000 awarded by the War Damage Commission here was but a quarter of the money allotted to Coventry, but he also recalls Pevsner's scathing attack on the design: What an opportunity was lost! What thrilling things might have been done inside! A modern interior, airy, noble, of fine materials could have arisen to affirm the vitality of C20 church architecture inside the C13 walls. How defeatist does the imitation-Gothic interior appear, once this has been realized!
And Pevsner was not alone. The main criticism seemed to be that, while the opportunity had not been taken to produce something brave and modernist, the rebuilding was also not true to the principles and details of the Gothic which had been there before. Instead, Dykes Bower made up his own Gothic, particularly in the arcades and tracery. It is a simple Gothic, stripped of detail and without the clutter beloved of the 19th Century revival. Coventry Cathedral's design was startling and newsworthy, and the great artists of the day were commissioned to provide its fixtures and fittings. It has come to represent a city which otherwise projects a rather vague image to the world. But Great Yarmouth is not Coventry, and there is a big difference between the urban church of a relatively small and insular town and the Cathedral of a great diocese. It is perhaps unfair that Coventry's Cathedral is still viewed today as a phoenix risen from the ashes in a way that Great Yarmouth's church can never be, despite the near-identical circumstances. But that's not all. Bill Wilson, writing in 1991, concludes that the problem with the concept is the lack of assertive detail and the fact that so large a space needs to be filled with plenty of furnishings. Unhappily, there are hardly any...
And yet, and yet. When I step into St Nicholas now, I find myself thrilled by the cool light, the almost monastic simplicity. Apart from the hideous organ, the open spaces are barely punctuated, and there is something timeless and eternal about the silence. Dykes Bower's arcades are hardly there, vanishing into the whiteness above and the simplicity of the bare wood roofs. Through the crossing the jewel-like chancel glows, almost beckoning. From the other direction the west window does exactly the same. What Pevsner could not have foreseen is that this building is entirely suited to modern Anglican spirituality which has extended in recent years beyond mere congregational worship. And he also could not have foreseen how we would come to view the simplicity of Dykes Bower's design, the white walls, the lack of detail, the stripped, bleached wood and the cool, hard floors as being exactly symptomatic of the 1960s, the decade which gave this new building its birth. For this, I like it very much, not least because it was reopened on 8th May 1961, the day I was born.
Perhaps best of all I like the range of glass around the east and west windows by Brian Thomas. They are all of a piece, installed for the reopening. There can be few modern schemes outside of the cathedrals on so vast a scale, and yet they are elaborate, detailed and intimate. This great, light building is the perfect setting for them. The east window depicts the Crucifixion, surrounded by scenes from the Passion. In the north aisles are the joyful mysteries of the Christ story, from the Annunciation to the Presentation, while in the south aisles is the salvation story from Adam and Eve to Christ's mission. At the west end are the sacraments.
There are effectively four aisles, two either side of the church, which extend up to beyond the crossing. The aisles each side become conjoined as they flank the nave itself, making the nave appear narrow and tall in comparison, despite what we know to be true of it. The triple lancet of the west window aids this illusion. Below it, the Norman font is from a redundant Wiltshire church, and looks most un-East Anglian. There are small artworks and minor survivals dotted about, but they do not intrude. The early 18th century pulpit came from St George, a few hundred metres to the south, now closed. The pews in the central part of the nave are also from St George, and although they are simple they strike a jarring note. Modern chairs would be better. Dykes Bower screened off the south chancel chapel to create a space for private prayer, and this doesn't work as well as it might, creating an obstruction within the otherwise openness of the east end. The garishly painted organ is also his.
But this is a place to wander - despite the vast scale I found I had circumnavigated the interior three times without really noticing. It struck me then quite how much Dykes Bower must have intended this - he was designing a great town church interior, and looking across the water to Holland and Belgium as much as to anywhere else in England. He wanted a church that opened onto the market place, into which shoppers could come for a sit down and even a prayer, a building whose open spaces would be wandered through. Having told you all of this, I expect you are already making plans to come to Great Yarmouth and visit this church for yourself as soon as you possibly can. You may be aghast to learn, then, that this wonderful structure is hardly ever open to the public. At present, you can only visit on a Saturday morning: otherwise, it is merely the private, vastly-subsidised venue of a small group of Sunday worshippers. Nothing could be more short-sighted, and little could be more shameful.
For, while the mission of the Church of England is increasingly seen as to the whole people of God and not just to its registered members, and churches all over England are making themselves open to pilgrims and strangers wanting to feel a sense of the numinous and even perhaps to be open to a spirituality which may or may not be Christian but which is at least a yearning for God, the people of Great Yarmouth are locked out of their own church from day to day. They can at least visit the Catholic church of St Mary, which has a sign saying, curiously, that the church is open as often as possible, but that is a small Victorian building, and cannot compare with St Nicholas which is, after all, the heart and soul of Great Yarmouth's history, a touchstone down its long generations.
But if you can get inside, and if you stand beneath the crossing looking westwards, the view is typical: clean, clear, full of light and gravitas with a sense of prayerfulness and even of mystery. There is enough to convince. This building does not feel defeatist; if anything, it was a rather brave approach to the problem. But few people saw it like that at the time, and few people did in the years after. It must be said that Dykes Bower did not go out of his way to win friends in the modernist world - as his wikipedia entry says of him, he was a devoted and determined champion of the Gothic Revival style through its most unpopular years. And yet, he had the last laugh. When he finished here, he spent the next two decades overseeing the transformation of the church of St James at Bury St Edmunds into a fitting cathedral for the Diocese of St Edmundsbury and Ipswich. His is the chancel there, his the transepts, the side chapels and the north ambulatory, all in his own faux-gothic style. And when he died in 1994 he left a cool two million pounds to the Diocese for the construction of a huge Gothic central tower over the crossing of the cathedral. The Diocese spent another ten years or so raising the extra needed, which was fairly controversial in those years when the CofE was haemorraging cash left, right and centre. Despite the voices against it, the tower was built, entirely to Dykes Bower's fancy, and the gleaming white edifice now towers over Bury as if it had been there for half a millennium or more.
Simon Knott, October 2010
Oct. 15, 2022: Tour of the Reign of Terror Haunted House at the Janss Marketplace in Thousand Oaks, California. Tour during the Lights On event with no actors. This tour allows parents to bring smaller kids into the location.
“If you had free reign over classified networks… and you saw incredible things, awful things… things that belonged in the public domain, and not on some server stored in a dark room in Washington DC… what would you do?”
“God knows what happens now. Hopefully worldwide discussion, debates, and reforms… I want people to see the truth… because without information, you cannot make informed decisions as a public.”
-Quotes from an online chat attributed to Bradley Manning
Who is Bradley Manning:
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"Nobel Peace Prize nominee PFC Bradley Manning, a 25-year-old Army intelligence analyst, who released the Collateral Murder video, that shows the killing of unarmed civilians and two Reuters journalists, by a US Apache helicopter crew in Iraq. Manning also shared documents known as the Afghan War Diary, the Iraq War Logs, and series of embarrassing US diplomatic cables. These documents were published by the anti-secrecy website WikiLeaks, and they have illuminated such issues as the true number and cause of civilian casualties in Iraq, along with a number of human rights abuses by U.S.-funded contractors and foreign militaries, and the role that spying and bribes play in international diplomacy. Given the war crimes exposed by these documents, PFC Bradley Manning should be given a medal of honor.
Not a single person has been harmed by the release of this information. Defense Secretary Robert M. Gates has called the effect of WikiLeaks’ releases on U.S. foreign relations “fairly modest.” Yet the Obama administration has chosen to persecute the whistle-blower rather than prosecute the war criminals who were exposed. While the prosecution has declared it does not intend to seek the death penalty, they do seek to lock PFC Bradley Manning away for life, with the most ridiculous charge of ‘aiding the enemy,’ even though chat logs attributed to Bradley by the FBI clearly show intent only to inform the public and promote “discussion, debates, and reforms.”
Soldiers are promised fair treatment and a speedy trial under the Uniform Code of Military Justice (UCMJ). However, the soldiers responsible for PFC Manning’s care took it upon themselves to abuse him by keeping him locked up in solitary confinement for the first 10 months of his incarceration. During this time, Bradley was denied meaningful exercise, social interaction, sunlight, and on a number of occasions he was forced to stay completely naked. These conditions were unique to Bradley and are illegal even under US military law, as they amount to extreme pre-trial punishment. In March 2011, chief US State Department spokesperson PJ Crowley called PFC Manning’s treatment at the Quantico, Virginia, Marine Corps brig “ridiculous and counterproductive and stupid.” He was forced to resign shortly after admitting this. Since resigning, he has stated that the prosecution’s heavy-handed persecution of PFC Manning has undermined the government’s credibility.
Bradley’s treatment sparked a probe by the United Nations special rapporteur on torture, Juan Mendez. Mr. Mendez stated that he has been “frustrated by the prevarication of the US government with regard to my attempts to visit Mr. Manning.” After having his requests to visit Bradley repeatedly blocked, and after completing a fourteen month investigation, Mr. Mendez issued a statement saying that PFC Bradley Manning’s treatment has been “cruel and inhuman.”
It only took one week in April 2011 to have over a half million people sign a petition calling on President Obama to end the isolation and torture of Bradley Manning. The Obama administration’s ongoing persecution of Bradley Manning has served as “a chilling deterrent to other potential whistleblowers committed to public integrity,” and over 300 top legal scholars have declared that Bradley’s treatment was a violation of the Eighth Amendment’s prohibition against cruel and unusual punishment, as well as a violation of the Fifth Amendment’s guarantee against punishment without trial. Among the signatories is professor Laurence Tribe, a Harvard professor who taught President Obama. Professor Tribe was, until recently, a senior advisor to the US Justice Department.
Partially in response to public outcry, on April 21, 2011, Bradley was moved from Quantico to Fort Leavenworth, KS, where his conditions greatly improved. The very day he was moved, President Obama was surprised at a breakfast fundraiser by a group of protesters. At the end of the fundraiser, a member of the Bradley Manning Support Network, Logan Price, questioned him about Bradley’s situation. The President stated that “He [Bradley Manning] broke the law.” This pretrial declaration of guilt that has caused concern among legal experts, who argue it is clearly a case of ‘undue command influence’. President Obama is the highest ranking military commander, and soldiers follow his orders and his direction. By declaring PFC Bradley Manning guilty, he set the tone and direction of the subordinate military prosecution. It is now difficult for soldiers to express support for PFC Bradley Manning, who like many soldiers who follow the lead of their commander-in-chief, assume PFC Bradley Manning is guilty. Finally, reinforcing the assumption of Manning’s guilt, no charges were filed against any of the soldiers who took it upon themselves to abuse Bradley while he was under their supervision.
Bradley Manning has a growing list of supporters who want all the charges against him dropped. Among the supporters is the famous whistle-blower, Daniel Ellsberg, who leaked the Pentagon Papers in 1971. Recognizing the valor required to tell the truth, Ellsberg calls PFC Bradley Manning a hero and a patriot. We agree. Drop all the charges, and free PFC Bradley Manning.
We hope that you will join us as well. See what you can do to support justice in this historic time."
Source and for more information about Bradley Manning please visit:
The Captives surrounded the pedestal of the statue of Louis XIV on foot in the Place des Victoires. They are by Martin Desjardins, the gallicized name of an eminent Dutch sculptor active during the reign of Louis XIV, who had already made his name with the decoration of the Hôtel Salé (now the Musée Picasso). The monument was commissioned in 1679 by François d'Aubusson, duke of La Feuillade and marshal of France, who had distinguished himself in the campaigns in Franche-Comté and Sicily. He was an astute courtier, and thought it opportune to raise a grandiose monument to the glory of his king. As a setting for the statue, he persuaded the city to open up an immense square and he had the architect Jules Hardouin-Mansart design it. The square was named Place des Victoires in homage to France's victories in the Dutch War, which ended in 1679 with the Treaty of Nijmegen. The monument was inaugurated in 1686.
The captives, four larger-than-life bronze figures, symbolize the four nations defeated at the time of the Treaty of Nijmegen. Each represents one of the ages of man and a different attitude to captivity. Spain is a smooth-faced young man with streaming hair. His naked, upright body and heavenward gaze all indicate hope. The Holy Roman Empire is a bearded old man dressed in an ancient tunic. His head is bowed and his body sags in dejected resignation. Holland is young man with virile features and a short beard. His naked body poised to leap, his shoulder thrust forward in a defiant gesture and his wild expression speak of rebellion. Brandenburg is a mature man dressed like an ancient barbarian (like the Farnese Prisoners, classical marbles highly appreciated by many artists). The hand clutching his cloak, the drooping right shoulder and contorted face express grief. The Captives are all turned to the right, which encourages viewers to walk around the monument in a clockwise direction. Desjardins brilliantly varied his figures, alternating old and young, nude and clothed, upright and stooping figures, and arranging their arms and legs in different positions.
St Peter and St Paul, Salle, Norfolk
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
The greatest East Anglian churches were built in the 15th century. It is often observed that there can never have been enough people to fill them, but this is to miss the point. They were never intended for the forms of worship to which they now play host.
The shape of a late medieval church is not an accident. East Anglian parish churches of the 15th century had many common features; wide aisles to enable liturgical processions, a chancel for the celebration of Mass, places for other altars, niches for devotional statues, a focus towards the Blessed Sacrament in the east, a large nave for social activities, large windows to fill the building with light, a roof of angels to proclaim a hymn of praise, a pulpit for the preaching of orthodox doctrine, benches to enable the people to hear the preaching, and carvings, stained glass and wall paintings of the sacraments, Gospels and rosary mysteries, of the catechism and teaching of the Catholic Church.
As Le Corbusier might have said if he'd been around at the time, a late medieval East Anglian church was a machine for making Catholicism happen.
No longer, of course. The radical and violent fracture in popular religion in the middle years of the 16th century gave birth to the Church of England, and the new Church inherited buildings that were often unsuitable for congregational protestant liturgy - a problem that the Church of England has never satisfactorily solved.
Over the centuries, the problem has been addressed in different ways; celebrating Communion at a table in the nave, for example, and blocking off the chancel for other uses. Although this was challenged by the Laudian party in the early part of the 17th century, it was the way that many parishes reinvented their buildings, and most were to stay like that until the middle years of the 19th century. Some went further: a pulpit placed halfway down the nave, or even at the back of the church, meant that the seating could be arranged so that it no longer focused towards the east, thus breaking the link with Catholic (and Laudian) sacramentalism. For several centuries, Anglican churches focused on the pulpit rather than the altar.
With the rise of the 19th century Oxford Movement, all this underwent another dramatic change, with the great majority of our medieval parish churches having their interiors restored to their medieval integrity, reinventing themselves as sacramental spaces. This Victorian conception of the medieval suited itself to congregational worship, and responded in a satisfactory way to the structure of the building. But still, of course, they weren't full.
This 19th century re-imagining is the condition in which we find most of them today, and Anglican theologians everywhere are asking the question that the Catholic Church asked itself at Vatican II in the 1960s - is a 19th century liturgical space really appropriate for the Church of the 21st century?
It requires a shift in the mind to recall that these were not originally Anglican buildings, but it is a shift we need to make. The idea of a previously unchanging Church now confronting the demands of the modern age is wholly incorrect. These buildings have faced a variety of challenges over the centuries; they have only ever been truly suitable for the use for which they were originally built six hundred years ago.
Two of the largest late medieval churches in East Anglia are just three miles apart, at Cawston and Salle in the middle of Norfolk. These clusters are not uncommon; think of Blythburgh, Southwold and Walberswick in Suffolk, for example, or Lavenham and Long Melford in the same county. But Cawston and Salle are really close - you can see the tower of one from the other. St Peter and St Paul is a complete example of a 15th century rebuilding; St Agnes at Cawston retains its elegant earlier chancel.
If not merely for congregational worship, why were these churches built so big? Impressive as they seem now, they must have been awesome at the time they were built, since they were the only substantial buildings outside of the towns, and would have dwarfed the houses of the parish. Some were in villages; but many were not. Salle church has always been out in the fields. Why are earlier East Anglian churches not so massive? Certainly, East Anglia has its cathedrals; Norwich and Ely pre-date the great churches by several centuries, and Bury Abbey was bigger than either before its destruction. The great majority of East Anglia's churches are piecemeal affairs; typically, a 13th century chancel, which must have been the most substantial part of the building when it was first erected, an early 14th century nave and tower, and perhaps later elaborations of the piece with aisles and a clerestory. Salle and Cawston churches are both rebuildings of earlier structures, but a surprising number of East Anglian churches were not rebuilt, until perhaps the Victorians saw the need for a new chancel, or new aisles. Often, these smaller churches are exquisitely beautiful, as if beauty rather than grandeur was the imperative.
And then, towards the end of the 1340s, a great pestilence swept across Europe; in East Anglia, outside of Norwich which got off lightly, it killed perhaps a half of the population. In emptying the countryside, it completely altered the economic balance; a shortage of labour gave new power to the survivors, perhaps setting in place the preconditions for the capitalism that we can recognise by the 16th century. And, in extinguishing the flower of Decorated architecture, it also gave birth to the great love affair between the late medieval mind and death.
In Catholic theology there is no great divide between the dead and the living. For the medieval Christian, communion was something that existed between all members of the parish, whether alive or dead. Thus, prayers were said for the souls of the dead (who, it was presumed, were saying prayers for the souls of the living).
To ensure that prayers were said for them after their death, the very richest people endowed chantries. These were foundations, by which priests could be employed to say masses for their souls in perpetuity. A priest in such a capacity was called a chantry priest. The masses would be said at a chantry altar, probably in the nave; if the person was rich enough, this might be enclosed in a specially constructed chantry chapel. Many churches had them. After the Reformation, many were pressed into service as family mausoleums or pews.
For the poorest people, there was the opportunity to join a guild, where, for a penny or so a week, they could ensure that the guild chantry priest would say masses for their soul after their death (along with those of the other dead members of the guild). Many of these guilds were organised around particular occupations or devotions, and became a focus of social activity. The investment that produced the income to pay the chantry priests was most commonly in land. The church or guild oversaw the management of the land, which is one of the reasons we have an image of a wealthy pre-Reformation church. Land bought to produce income in this way was known as chantry land, a name surviving in many places today. Those who invested in chantries (and few and far between must have been those who didn't) presumed that they were ensuring prayers and masses in perpetuity; but, of course, this was not to be.
Bequests and chantries seem to have reached their peak in the 15th century. Perhaps the Black Death reinforced the urgency of the task. People did not merely want to be remembered; they wanted to be prayed for. And so, those who could afford it ensured that this was not forgotten by leaving their wealth in the very place that was at the centre of communion: the parish church. The richest paid for the additions of aisles and chapels, or for a new font or rood screen. This was not just a naked desire for the recognition of their family status. There was an underlying insecurity to the new landed classes. They wanted to control their destiny beyond their deaths. And so, their gift would be recorded in the form of a dedicatory inscription. One of these survives on the screen at Cawston, and another on the base of the font at Salle. Orate pro anima, they begin, "Pray for the soul of...", an injunction urgently emphasised by the pre-Reformation liturgy, only to be cursed and defaced by the later Anglicans and puritans. Stained glass was another common gift, as well as images, candlesticks, furnishings. Thus were many churches developed piecemeal.
But sometimes, where a parish could rely on a steady supply of substantial bequests, they might be channelled into a complete rebuilding, as at Salle, a summa cum laude apothesosis, where the new church of the late 15th century survives in pretty much its original form. Sometimes, a single wealthy family would shape and direct the rebuilding of a church. One of the richest families in East Anglia in the 14th and 15th centuries was the de la Poles, the Earls of Suffolk. Their mark can be found throughout East Anglia, but most famously and substantially at Wingfield in Suffolk, and at Cawston in Norfolk. Theirs was a long term project; at Cawston, the tower predates the furnishings of the nave and chancel by almost a century.
So why so vast? Certainly, it was ad maiorem deo gloria, to the Greater Glory of God; but it was also to the greater glory of the de la Poles and their contemporaries. The great landed families of England came into the late middle ages full of confidence, and they were determined to demonstrate it. They had survived the Black Death. They had grown richer on its consequences. They had assumed a political power unthinkable a few centuries before. They controlled not just the wealth but the imagination of their parishes. They asserted orthodox Catholic dogma in the face of rural superstitions and abuses. They imposed a homogenised Catholicism on late medieval England. And, as they increased their secular power and influence, a time would come when they would embrace the Great Idea already beginning to take shape on the continent - protestantism. But that was still in the future.
And so, to Salle. St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower. The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets also as at Great Witchingham). The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the crowning glory of the building is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection, and the Ascension into Heaven.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a cock, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and Psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord!
The nave benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching. Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
The Taj Mahal (/ˌtɑːdʒ məˈhɑːl/, more often /ˈtɑːʒ/; from Persian and Arabic, "crown of palaces", pronounced [ˈt̪aːdʒ mɛˈɦɛl]) is a white marble mausoleum located on the southern bank of Yamuna River in the Indian city of Agra. It was commissioned in 1632 by the Mughal emperor Shah Jahan (reigned 1628–1658) to house the tomb of his favorite wife of three, Mumtaz Mahal.
Construction of the mausoleum was essentially completed in 1643 but work continued on other phases of the project for an additional ten years. The Taj Mahal complex is believed to have been completed in its entirety in 1653 at a cost estimated at the time to be around 32 million Indian rupees, which in 2015 would be valued at around 52.8 billion Indian rupees ($827 million US). The construction project employed around 20,000 artisans under the guidance of a board of architects led by Ustad Ahmad Lahauri. The domed marble tomb is part of an integrated complex consisting of gardens and two red-sandstone buildings surrounded by a crenellated wall on three sides.
The Taj Mahal is regarded by many as the best example of Mughal architecture and is widely recognized as "the jewel of Muslim art in India". It is one of the world’s most celebrated structures and a symbol of India’s rich history. Designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1983, the Taj Mahal attracts some 3 million visitors a year.
INSPIRATION
In 1631, Shah Jahan, emperor during the Mughal empire's period of greatest prosperity, was grief-stricken when his favorite of three wives and beloved companion, Mumtaz Mahal, a Persian princess, died during the birth of their 14th child, Gauhara Begum. Construction of the Taj Mahal began in 1632. The court chronicles of Shah Jahan's grief illustrate the love story traditionally held as an inspiration for Taj Mahal. The principal mausoleum was completed in 1643 and the surrounding buildings and garden were finished about five years later.
ARCHITECTURE AND DESIGN
The Taj Mahal incorporates and expands on design traditions of Persian and earlier Mughal architecture. Specific inspiration came from successful Timurid and Mughal buildings including; the Gur-e Amir (the tomb of Timur, progenitor of the Mughal dynasty, in Samarkand), Humayun's Tomb, Itmad-Ud-Daulah's Tomb (sometimes called the Baby Taj), and Shah Jahan's own Jama Masjid in Delhi. While earlier Mughal buildings were primarily constructed of red sandstone, Shah Jahan promoted the use of white marble inlaid with semi-precious stones. Buildings under his patronage reached new levels of refinement.
TOMB
The tomb is the central focus of the entire complex of the Taj Mahal. It is a large, white marble structure standing on a square plinth and consists of a symmetrical building with an iwan (an arch-shaped doorway) topped by a large dome and finial. Like most Mughal tombs, the basic elements are Persian in origin.
The base structure is a large multi-chambered cube with chamfered corners forming an unequal eight-sided structure that is approximately 55 metres on each of the four long sides. Each side of the iwan is framed with a huge pishtaq or vaulted archway with two similarly shaped arched balconies stacked on either side. This motif of stacked pishtaqs is replicated on the chamfered corner areas, making the design completely symmetrical on all sides of the building. Four minarets frame the tomb, one at each corner of the plinth facing the chamfered corners. The main chamber houses the false sarcophagi of Mumtaz Mahal and Shah Jahan; the actual graves are at a lower level.
The most spectacular feature is the marble dome that surmounts the tomb. The dome is nearly 35 metres high which is close in measurement to the length of the base, and accentuated by the cylindrical "drum" it sits on which is approximately 7 metres high. Because of its shape, the dome is often called an onion dome or amrud (guava dome). The top is decorated with a lotus design which also serves to accentuate its height. The shape of the dome is emphasized by four smaller domed chattris (kiosks) placed at its corners, which replicate the onion shape of the main dome. Their columned bases open through the roof of the tomb and provide light to the interior. Tall decorative spires (guldastas) extend from edges of base walls, and provide visual emphasis to the height of the dome. The lotus motif is repeated on both the chattris and guldastas. The dome and chattris are topped by a gilded finial which mixes traditional Persian and Hindustani decorative elements.
The main finial was originally made of gold but was replaced by a copy made of gilded bronze in the early 19th century. This feature provides a clear example of integration of traditional Persian and Hindu decorative elements. The finial is topped by a moon, a typical Islamic motif whose horns point heavenward.
The minarets, which are each more than 40 metres tall, display the designer's penchant for symmetry. They were designed as working minarets - a traditional element of mosques, used by the muezzin to call the Islamic faithful to prayer. Each minaret is effectively divided into three equal parts by two working balconies that ring the tower. At the top of the tower is a final balcony surmounted by a chattri that mirrors the design of those on the tomb. The chattris all share the same decorative elements of a lotus design topped by a gilded finial. The minarets were constructed slightly outside of the plinth so that in the event of collapse, a typical occurrence with many tall constructions of the period, the material from the towers would tend to fall away from the tomb.
EXTERIOR DECORATIONS
The exterior decorations of the Taj Mahal are among the finest in Mughal architecture. As the surface area changes, the decorations are refined proportionally. The decorative elements were created by applying paint, stucco, stone inlays or carvings. In line with the Islamic prohibition against the use of anthropomorphic forms, the decorative elements can be grouped into either calligraphy, abstract forms or vegetative motifs. Throughout the complex are passages from the Qur'an that comprise some of the decorative elements. Recent scholarship suggests that the passages were chosen by Amanat Khan.
The calligraphy on the Great Gate reads "O Soul, thou art at rest. Return to the Lord at peace with Him, and He at peace with you." The calligraphy was created in 1609 by a calligrapher named Abdul Haq. Shah Jahan conferred the title of "Amanat Khan" upon him as a reward for his "dazzling virtuosity". Near the lines from the Qur'an at the base of the interior dome is the inscription, "Written by the insignificant being, Amanat Khan Shirazi." Much of the calligraphy is composed of florid thuluth script made of jasper or black marble inlaid in white marble panels. Higher panels are written in slightly larger script to reduce the skewing effect when viewed from below. The calligraphy found on the marble cenotaphs in the tomb is particularly detailed and delicate.
Abstract forms are used throughout, especially in the plinth, minarets, gateway, mosque, jawab and, to a lesser extent, on the surfaces of the tomb. The domes and vaults of the sandstone buildings are worked with tracery of incised painting to create elaborate geometric forms. Herringbone inlays define the space between many of the adjoining elements. White inlays are used in sandstone buildings, and dark or black inlays on the white marbles. Mortared areas of the marble buildings have been stained or painted in a contrasting color which creates a complex array of geometric patterns. Floors and walkways use contrasting tiles or blocks in tessellation patterns.
On the lower walls of the tomb are white marble dados sculpted with realistic bas relief depictions of flowers and vines. The marble has been polished to emphasise the exquisite detailing of the carvings. The dado frames and archway spandrels have been decorated with pietra dura inlays of highly stylised, almost geometric vines, flowers and fruits. The inlay stones are of yellow marble, jasper and jade, polished and levelled to the surface of the walls.
INTERIOR DECORATION
The interior chamber of the Taj Mahal reaches far beyond traditional decorative elements. The inlay work is not pietra dura, but a lapidary of precious and semiprecious gemstones. The inner chamber is an octagon with the design allowing for entry from each face, although only the door facing the garden to the south is used. The interior walls are about 25 metres high and are topped by a "false" interior dome decorated with a sun motif. Eight pishtaq arches define the space at ground level and, as with the exterior, each lower pishtaq is crowned by a second pishtaq about midway up the wall. The four central upper arches form balconies or viewing areas, and each balcony's exterior window has an intricate screen or jali cut from marble. In addition to the light from the balcony screens, light enters through roof openings covered by chattris at the corners. The octagonal marble screen or jali bordering the cenotaphs is made from eight marble panels carved through with intricate pierce work. The remaining surfaces are inlaid in delicate detail with semi-precious stones forming twining vines, fruits and flowers. Each chamber wall is highly decorated with dado bas-relief, intricate lapidary inlay and refined calligraphy panels which reflect, in miniature detail, the design elements seen throughout the exterior of the complex.
Muslim tradition forbids elaborate decoration of graves. Hence, the bodies of Mumtaz and Shah Jahan were put in a relatively plain crypt beneath the inner chamber with their faces turned right, towards Mecca. Mumtaz Mahal's cenotaph is placed at the precise centre of the inner chamber on a rectangular marble base of 1.5 by 2.5 metres. Both the base and casket are elaborately inlaid with precious and semiprecious gems. Calligraphic inscriptions on the casket identify and praise Mumtaz. On the lid of the casket is a raised rectangular lozenge meant to suggest a writing tablet. Shah Jahan's cenotaph is beside Mumtaz's to the western side, and is the only visible asymmetric element in the entire complex. His cenotaph is bigger than his wife's, but reflects the same elements: a larger casket on a slightly taller base precisely decorated with lapidary and calligraphy that identifies him. On the lid of the casket is a traditional sculpture of a small pen box.
The pen box and writing tablet are traditional Mughal funerary icons decorating the caskets of men and women respectively. The Ninety Nine Names of God are calligraphic inscriptions on the sides of the actual tomb of Mumtaz Mahal. Other inscriptions inside the crypt include, "O Noble, O Magnificent, O Majestic, O Unique, O Eternal, O Glorious... ". The tomb of Shah Jahan bears a calligraphic inscription that reads; "He travelled from this world to the banquet-hall of Eternity on the night of the twenty-sixth of the month of Rajab, in the year 1076 Hijri."
GARDEN
The complex is set around a large 300-metre square charbagh or Mughal garden. The garden uses raised pathways that divide each of the four quarters of the garden into 16 sunken parterres or flowerbeds. Halfway between the tomb and gateway in the center of the garden is a raised marble water tank with a reflecting pool positioned on a north-south axis to reflect the image of the mausoleum. The raised marble water tank is called al Hawd al-Kawthar in reference to the "Tank of Abundance" promised to Muhammad.
Elsewhere, the garden is laid out with avenues of trees and fountains. The charbagh garden, a design inspired by Persian gardens, was introduced to India by Babur, the first Mughal emperor. It symbolises the four flowing rivers of Jannah (Paradise) and reflects the Paradise garden derived from the Persian paridaeza, meaning 'walled garden'. In mystic Islamic texts of the Mughal period, Paradise is described as an ideal garden of abundance with four rivers flowing from a central spring or mountain, separating the garden into north, west, south and east.
Most Mughal charbaghs are rectangular with a tomb or pavilion in the center. The Taj Mahal garden is unusual in that the main element, the tomb, is located at the end of the garden. With the discovery of Mahtab Bagh or "Moonlight Garden" on the other side of the Yamuna, the interpretation of the Archaeological Survey of India is that the Yamuna river itself was incorporated into the garden's design and was meant to be seen as one of the rivers of Paradise. Similarities in layout and architectural features with the Shalimar Gardens suggests both gardens may have been designed by the same architect, Ali Mardan. Early accounts of the garden describe its profusion of vegetation, including abundant roses, daffodils, and fruit trees. As the Mughal Empire declined, the Taj Mahal and its gardens also declined. By the end of the 19th century, the British Empire controlled more than three-fifths of India, and assumed management of the Taj Mahal. They changed the landscaping to their liking which more closely resembled the formal lawns of London.
OUTLYING BUILDINGS
The Taj Mahal complex is bordered on three sides by crenellated red sandstone walls; the side facing the river is open. Outside the walls are several additional mausoleums, including those of Shah Jahan's other wives, and a larger tomb for Mumtaz's favourite servant.
The main gateway (darwaza) is a monumental structure built primarily of marble, and reminiscent of the Mughal architecture of earlier emperors. Its archways mirror the shape of the tomb's archways, and its pishtaq arches incorporate the calligraphy that decorates the tomb. The vaulted ceilings and walls have elaborate geometric designs like those found in the other sandstone buildings in the complex.
At the far end of the complex are two grand red sandstone buildings that mirror each other, and face the sides of the tomb. The backs of the buildings parallel the western and eastern walls. The western building is a mosque and the other is the jawab (answer), thought to have been constructed for architectural balance although it may have been used as a guesthouse. Distinctions between the two buildings include the jawab's lack of a mihrab (a niche in a mosque's wall facing Mecca), and its floors of geometric design whereas the floor of the mosque is laid with outlines of 569 prayer rugs in black marble. The mosque's basic design of a long hall surmounted by three domes is similar to others built by Shah Jahan, particularly the Masjid-i Jahān-Numā, or Jama Masjid, Delhi. The Mughal mosques of this period divide the sanctuary hall into three areas comprising a main sanctuary and slightly smaller sanctuaries on either side. At the Taj Mahal, each sanctuary opens onto an expansive vaulting dome. The outlying buildings were completed in 1643.
CONSTRUCTION
The Taj Mahal is built on a parcel of land to the south of the walled city of Agra. Shah Jahan presented Maharajah Jai Singh with a large palace in the center of Agra in exchange for the land. An area of roughly three acres was excavated, filled with dirt to reduce seepage, and leveled at 50 metres above riverbank. In the tomb area, wells were dug and filled with stone and rubble to form the footings of the tomb. Instead of lashed bamboo, workmen constructed a colossal brick scaffold that mirrored the tomb. The scaffold was so enormous that foremen estimated it would take years to dismantle.
The Taj Mahal was constructed using materials from all over India and Asia. It is believed over 1,000 elephants were used to transport building materials. The translucent white marble was brought from Makrana, Rajasthan, the jasper from Punjab, jade and crystal from China. The turquoise was from Tibet and the Lapis lazuli from Afghanistan, while the sapphire came from Sri Lanka and the carnelian from Arabia. In all, twenty eight types of precious and semi-precious stones were inlaid into the white marble.
According to the legend, Shah Jahan decreed that anyone could keep the bricks taken from the scaffold, and thus it was dismantled by peasants overnight. A fifteen kilometer tamped-earth ramp was built to transport marble and materials to the construction site and teams of twenty or thirty oxen pulled the blocks on specially constructed wagons. An elaborate post-and-beam pulley system was used to raise the blocks into desired position. Water was drawn from the river by a series of purs, an animal-powered rope and bucket mechanism, into a large storage tank and raised to a large distribution tank. It was passed into three subsidiary tanks, from which it was piped to the complex.
The plinth and tomb took roughly 12 years to complete. The remaining parts of the complex took an additional 10 years and were completed in order of minarets, mosque and jawab, and gateway. Since the complex was built in stages, discrepancies exist in completion dates due to differing opinions on "completion". Construction of the mausoleum itself was essentially completed by 1643 while work continued on the outlying buildings. Estimates of the cost of construction vary due to difficulties in estimating costs across time. The total cost has been estimated to be about 32 million Indian rupees, which is around 52.8 billion Indian rupees ($827 million US) based on 2015 values.
LATER DAYS
Abdul Hamid Lahauri in his book Badshahnama refers to Taj Mahal as rauza-i munawwara, meaning the illumined or illustrious tomb. Soon after the Taj Mahal's completion, Shah Jahan was deposed by his son Aurangzeb and put under house arrest at nearby Agra Fort. Upon Shah Jahan's death, Aurangzeb buried him in the mausoleum next to his wife. In the 18th century, the Jat rulers of Bharatpur invaded Agra and attacked the Taj Mahal, the two chandeliers, one of agate and another of silver, which were hung over the main cenotaph, were taken away by them, along with the gold and silver screen. Kanbo, a Mughal historian, said the gold shield which covered the 15-foot high finial at the top of the main dome was also removed during the Jat despoliation.
By the late 19th century, parts of the buildings had fallen into disrepair. During the time of the Indian rebellion of 1857, the Taj Mahal was defaced by British soldiers and government officials, who chiselled out precious stones and lapis lazuli from its walls. At the end of the 19th century, British viceroy Lord Curzon ordered a sweeping restoration project, which was completed in 1908. He also commissioned the large lamp in the interior chamber, modelled after one in a Cairo mosque. During this time the garden was remodelled with British-style lawns that are still in place today.
THREATS
In 1942, the government erected a scaffolding to disguise the building in anticipation of air attacks by the Japanese Air Force. During the India-Pakistan wars of 1965 and 1971, scaffoldings were again erected to mislead bomber pilots.
More recent threats have come from environmental pollution on the banks of Yamuna River including acid rain due to the Mathura Oil Refinery, which was opposed by Supreme Court of India directives. The pollution has been turning the Taj Mahal yellow. To help control the pollution, the Indian government has set up the Taj Trapezium Zone (TTZ), a 10,400-square-kilometre area around the monument where strict emissions standards are in place.
Concerns for the tomb's structural integrity have recently been raised because of a decline in the groundwater level in the Yamuna river basin which is falling at a rate of around 5 feet a year. In 2010, cracks appeared in parts of the tomb, and the minarets which surround the monument were showing signs of tilting, as the wooden foundation of the tomb may be rotting due to lack of water. In 2011 it was reported that some predictions indicated that the tomb could collapse within 5 years.
TOURISM
The Taj Mahal attracts a large number of tourists. UNESCO documented more than 2 million visitors in 2001, which increased to about 3 million in 2015. A two tier pricing system is in place, with a significantly lower entrance fee for Indian citizens and a more expensive one for foreigners. Most tourists visit in the cooler months of October, November and February. Polluting traffic is not allowed near the complex and tourists must either walk from parking lots or catch an electric bus. The Khawasspuras (northern courtyards) are currently being restored for use as a new visitor center.
The small town to the south of the Taj, known as Taj Ganji or Mumtazabad, was originally constructed with caravanserais, bazaars and markets to serve the needs of visitors and workmen. Lists of recommended travel destinations often feature the Taj Mahal, which also appears in several listings of seven wonders of the modern world, including the recently announced New Seven Wonders of the World, a recent poll with 100 million votes.
The grounds are open from 06:00 to 19:00 weekdays, except for Friday when the complex is open for prayers at the mosque between 12:00 and 14:00. The complex is open for night viewing on the day of the full moon and two days before and after, excluding Fridays and the month of Ramadan. For security reasons only five items - water in transparent bottles, small video cameras, still cameras, mobile phones and small ladies' purses - are allowed inside the Taj Mahal.
MYTHS
Ever since its construction, the building has been the source of an admiration transcending culture and geography, and so personal and emotional responses have consistently eclipsed scholastic appraisals of the monument. A longstanding myth holds that Shah Jahan planned a mausoleum to be built in black marble as a Black Taj Mahal across the Yamuna river. The idea originates from fanciful writings of Jean-Baptiste Tavernier, a European traveller who visited Agra in 1665. It was suggested that Shah Jahan was overthrown by his son Aurangzeb before it could be built. Ruins of blackened marble across the river in Moonlight Garden, Mahtab Bagh, seemed to support this legend. However, excavations carried out in the 1990s found that they were discolored white stones that had turned black. A more credible theory for the origins of the black mausoleum was demonstrated in 2006 by archaeologists who reconstructed part of the pool in the Moonlight Garden. A dark reflection of the white mausoleum could clearly be seen, befitting Shah Jahan's obsession with symmetry and the positioning of the pool itself.
No evidence exists for claims that describe, often in horrific detail, the deaths, dismemberments and mutilations which Shah Jahan supposedly inflicted on various architects and craftsmen associated with the tomb. Some stories claim that those involved in construction signed contracts committing themselves to have no part in any similar design. Similar claims are made for many famous buildings. No evidence exists for claims that Lord William Bentinck, governor-general of India in the 1830s, supposedly planned to demolish the Taj Mahal and auction off the marble. Bentinck's biographer John Rosselli says that the story arose from Bentinck's fund-raising sale of discarded marble from Agra Fort.
Another myth suggests that beating the silhouette of the finial will cause water to come forth. To this day, officials find broken bangles surrounding the silhouette.
In 2000, India's Supreme Court dismissed P. N. Oak's petition to declare that a Hindu king built the Taj Mahal. In 2005 a similar petition was dismissed by the Allahabad High Court. This case was brought by Amar Nath Mishra, a social worker and preacher who says that the Taj Mahal was built by the Hindu King Parmar Dev in 1196.
WIKIPEDIA
I just love the new gacha by Reign so I did a blog and snapped some photos! pearlslaceleather.blogspot.com/2017/04/dazzled.html
Mary of Modena (Mary Beatrice Eleanor Anne Margaret Isabel; born Este; later Queen Mary of England, Scotland and Ireland; 5 October 1658 – 7 May 1718) was queen consort to James II of England. Her reign as consort lasted from 6 February 1685 until 11 December 1688. Mary was crowned Queen consort on 23 April 1685.
Mary was born on 5 October 1658 at the Ducal Palace in Modena, Italy, the eldest child and only daughter of Alfonso IV, Duke of Modena and his wife, the former Laura Martinozzi. She had one younger brother Francesco II d'Este, who became Duke of Modena and Reggio at the age of two, upon the death of their father who died when Mary was four years old. Their mother Laura acted as Francesco's regent until 1674 when he assumed full control.
Her paternal grandparents were Francesco I d'Este and Maria Caterina Farnese of Parma. Her maternal grandparents were Girolamo Martinozzi and Laura Mazzarini. Two of Mary's maternal cousins were Hortense Mancini, a mistress of her brother-in-law, King Charles II; and the notorious intrigante Olympia Mancini, Countess of Soissons, who was implicated in the Poison Affair which resulted in her expulsion from France.
Mary was a descendant of King Henry II of France and Catherine de Medici.
Mary was married to James, Duke of York, by proxy in a Catholic ceremony on 20 September 1673; they were married in person on 21 November 1673 with Nathaniel Crew, Bishop of Oxford officiating at the Anglican ceremony. Mary's mother Laura had accompanied her daughter to England.
The marriage had urgent dynastic and political aspects. James had two Protestant daughters, Mary and Anne, from his first marriage to Anne Hyde. A son by James's second marriage would be king one day, a Roman Catholic king. Though Mary was beautiful and charming — Charles II quickly came round to her — the people of England disliked her for her Roman Catholicism. She was lampooned in broadsheets under the name "Madame East". Rumours spread that she was an agent of the pope, Clement X, who had pressed her case as a suitable bride. During the "Popish Plot" (1678), in which her secretary, Coleman, was involved, she and James discreetly went abroad.
Their first male child was stillborn (1674), and numerous others died in infancy or early childhood. Following James's accession to the throne in 1685, the question of whether Mary would ever bear a son became more significant, because such a child would be brought up in the Roman Catholic faith and would be heir to the throne.
In 1688, Mary finally gave birth to a living son, James, nine months after bathing in the The Cross Bath at Bath.[1] The event caused much speculation. It was suggested that the child had been born dead and a changeling smuggled into the room in a warming pan in order to conceal the death, or that the Queen had never actually been with child. Broadsheets depicting the queen stuffing pillows into her gown or cuckolding her husband with her confessor were common. For political reasons, a royal birth was a very public event, and many people would have had to be privy to this unlikely conspiracy. Nevertheless the rumours were disquieting enough that James called two extraordinary sessions of his Privy Council to hear testimony proving that the young Prince of Wales was his son by the Queen, though James's daughters disputed the child's legitimacy.
Within a few months of the heir's birth, the Glorious Revolution erupted. Mary consented to escape to France (10 December 1688) with her son. James's elder daughter, Mary, with her husband, William III of Orange, had been invited by the Whigs to take the throne.
In exile, as guests and dependents of Louis XIV at the Chateau of Saint-Germain-en-Laye, Mary gave birth to one more child, Princess Louisa Maria, who died of smallpox at the age of nineteen.
When James died on 6 September 1701, Mary succeeded in inducing Louis to recognize her son as king of England and Scotland, an act that accelerated English participation in the War of the Spanish Succession. She supported Jacobite exiles to the best of her ability.
Queen Mary died in Château de Saint-Germain-en-Laye near Paris of breast cancer. Her tomb, in the abbey of Chaillot, was destroyed during the French Revolution.
The new order for Transpennine Express services on the West Coast with class 350405 wearing the eye catching 'swirly migraine' colours heading northwards on an Edinburgh service 6th May 2014.
I could see the tower of a church from the main road. I saw it from a good two miles away, towering over the mature trees of a wood.
It must be one heck of a church I thought, turning down the lane leading to it, to find the lane lead to Worstead.
Worstead: that explained it. A village so associated with wool, a type of woolen cloth is named after it.
Beside the church is the market square, lined with fine buildings, and to the west, St Mary. A huge cathedral of a church. After snapping the village, I walk to the porch on the south side and go in, smiling.
I was met by a warden who saw the look of delight on my face, and took me on a grand tour. How lucky was I?
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In the reign of Edward the Confessor, the lordship of this town belonged to the abbot of St. Bennet of Holm, with 2 carucates and an half of land, 8 villains, 30 borderers, 2 carucates in demean, 3 among the tenants, 8 acres of meadow, paunage for 16 swine, a mill, and 3 socmen, valued at 60s. and at the survey at 4l.
There were 2 churches with 28 acres, valued therein, and was for the provision of the monks.
At the survey, Robert, an officer of the cross-bow-men, held it of the abbot; it was one leuca long, and half a leuca broad and a perch, and paid 18d. gelt. St. Bennet's abbey held also in the said town, in King Edward's time, a carucate of land, with 2 villains, 10 borderers, one carucate in demean, and 2 among the tenants and 2 acres of meadow, &c. valued at 40s. (fn. 1)
Odo, son of Robert, the cross-bowman, assumed, according to the custom of that age, the name of Warsted, from this his town and lordship; he held it of the abbot by one knight's fee, being the gift of King Canute to the abbey on his foundation of it. (fn. 2)
This Odo. and Robert his son, gave lands to the abbey, and the mill at Bordestede. He was father of Peter, whose son Philip held one fee in the 20th of Henry III.
Nicholas son of Philip de Wursted, gave to the abbot all his lands here by deed, dated in the 2d of Edward I. Henry being then abbot.
Richard de Worstede was also a son of Odo, and had by Margaret his wife, daughter of Robert de Manteby, Sir Robert de Worstede, who died sans issue.—This Sir Robert and Sir John de Worstede, were witnesses to a deed of confirmation, of Jeffrey, son of Bartholomew de Glanvile, to Bromholm priory.
The temporalities of the abbot in 1428, were 3l. 12s. ob. q. This came at the Dissolution, to the see of Norwich; and in the 3d and 4th of Philip and Mary, was farmed of the Bishop, at 41s. and 3d. per ann. by Bertram Themilthorp.
The prior of Pentney had a lordship, granted to that house by John de Worstede, containing a messuage, a carucate of land, a mill, 50s. rent, 10 acres of wood, with the whole pond of Worstede and Crowbeck, and the whole alder carr, regranted by Simon the prior, to John for life.
In the year 1328, the temporalities of this prory were valued at 8l. 10s. 4d.—On the Dissolution, May 22, in the 36th of Henry VIII. it was granted to John Spencer.
The prior also of Hempton had a manor, valued with a mill, &c. at 4l. 8s. 11d. which on the Dissolution was granted as above, to John Spencer. Leonard Spencer and Catherina his wife, sold both these lordships to Robert Paston, and Thomas Thimblethorp, with their appertenances in Sloley, Westwick, &c. on June 3, in the 8th of Elizabeth; and after they are said to be aliened to — Utber, and so to — Mitson.
Matthew de Gunton had a manor here which he granted to William, son of William de Stalham, on his marriage with Isabel his daughter, being 49s. 3d. rent. This came to Sir Jeffrey Wythe, by his marriage with the daughter and heir of Sir William Stalham.
In the 9th of Edward II. Nicholas de Salicibus or of the Willows, and Elen his wife, conveyed to Jeffrey Wythe, and Isabel his wife, the 5th part of 28 messuages, 114 acres of land, 5 of turbary, with 27s. and 8d. rent here, in Dilham and Smalburgh, settled on Isabel; and Wynesia, widow of Sir Oliver Wythe, released to William Dunning of this town, all her right of dower in this town, and Westwick.
After this it came to Sir William Calthorp, by the marriage of Amy, daughter and heir of Sir John Wythe, and was sold by Edward Calthorp, Esq. of Kirby Cane, December 8, in the 21st of Henry VIII. to Leonard Spencer of Blofield, Gent. for 40l. in hand paid, and 40 marks more on full assurance being made. John Spencer was lord in the 2d of Edward VI. and Leonard Spencer in 1572.
Erpingham and Gaines's manor in Irstede, held by John Gross, Esq. at his death in 1408, which he left to his widow Margaret, extended into this town. John Skarburgh, Gent. had a prœcipe to deliver it to Miles Bayspoole, Gent. in the first of James I.
Before this, in the 17th of Elizabeth, William Chytham conveyed it to William Tymberley. The Grosses were early enfeoffed of a lordship under the abbot of Holm. Reginald le Gross was lord in the reign of Henry III. and had a charter for a weekly mercate on Friday.
Sir Oliver de Ingham held here and in Ingham, a knight's fee of Robert de Tateshale, in the first of Edward I. This came afterwards by the heiress of Ingham to the Stapletons; and in the 2d of Richard II. Sir Roger Boys, &c. trustees, aliened to the prior of the Holy Trinity of Ingham, a messuage, with 84 acres of land, 3 of meadow, one of pasture, in Worstede and Scothow, by license.
Thomas Moore, &c. aliened to the said convent, in the 16th of that King, 8 messuages, 221 acres of land, 22 of meadow, 4 of moor, and the rent of 11s. 11d. per ann. in this town, Ingham, Walcot, &c. held of the honour of Eye.
In the 3d of Henry IV. the prior's manor, late Sir Oliver de Ingham's, was held of Sir Constantine Clifton, of the barony of Tateshale.
The prior of Bromholm had also a lordship. In the 3d of Henry IV. the heirs of William Smalburgh held here and in Barton, &c. half a fee of the prior, with William Sywardby, and they of the Earl of Suffolk, as part of the honour of Eye, in 1428. The temporalities of this monastery were 104s. 2d. ob.
After the Dissolution, on May 26, in the 6th year of Edward VI. it was granted to Henry Grey Duke of Suffolk.
William Gillet, son and heir of William, had a messuage, a garden, 100 acres of land, 6 of meadow, 20 of pasture, and 2 of wood, called Fenn's and Skitt's, in the 23d of Elizabeth. John Kempt aliened it September 1, in the 7th of King James I. to Edmund Themilthorpe.
Thomas Seive of Worsted, had land here by the marriage of Margarel, one of the daughters of Sir James de Ilketeshale, Knt. of Suffolk, in the reign of Henry VI. she dying about the 30th of that King, left 3 daughters and coheirs; Cecilia, married to John Ovy, who left his lands here by will, in 1472, to Thomas his son, &c. by Emme his wife. Jane, a daughter and coheir of Seive, married William Smith; and Margaret, the 3d, Thomas Jeffrey.
The tenths were 14l. 10s. ob. q Deducted 1l. 19s. 1d. ob.
The town is seated in a flat country, and has a weekly mercate on Saturday
Worsted stuffs are said to have taken that name from their being first manufactured here. I find them mentioned in the 2d year of Edward III. and the weavers and workers were then by parliament enjoined to work them up to a better assise than they had done; and an enquiry was to be made after the behaviour of Robert P - - - the alnager for these stuffs.
Many privileges were after granted to the workers of them, Ao. 1 Richard II. &c. the merchants came into England, as appears in the 37th of Edward III. to purchase them.
The Church is dedicated to St. Mary, has a nave, 2 isles, and a chancel covered with lead, and a square tower with 6 bells, and was a rectory in the patronage of the family of De Worstede.
Sir Robert de Worsted, son of Richard de Worstede, gave by deed, (fn. 3) sans date, to the priory of Norwich, the patronage of this church, about the beginning of the reign of King Henry III. to which Sir John de Wirstede, Bartholomew de Reedham, Eustace de Berningham, &c. were witnesses; and by another deed, he gave to them the chapel of St. Andrew, in this town: witnesses, Sir G. de Bocland, John de Wirstede, Jordan de Soukeville, then an itinerant justice in Norfolk, which was confirmed by Pandulf Bishop of Norwich.
He also gave them lands with certain villains, the abbot of Holm also confirmed it.
Sir Reginald le Gross quitclaimed all his right in the aforesaid church and chapel, to Simon the prior, and the convent of Norwich.
Thomas de Blundevile Bishop of Norwich, also confirmed to them the said church, to take place on the decease of John de Wurchestede, and Adam de Wurchestede, who then held it in 1226; and in 1256, on the 8th of the calends of August, a vicarage was settled on the appropriation of the said church to the monks of Norwich, when a manse or house was given to the vicar, with an acre of land, by the chapel of St. Andrew with all the altarage of the church, (except the tithes of the mills) and the rents of assise belonging to the said chapel, and the oblations thereof; but if the oblations and profits of the said chapel exceeded 5 marks, the remainder was to go to the prior and convent, and the vicar was to repair the said chapel, and to find all ornaments, &c.
The vicar was also to have tithe of flax, hemp, and all other small tithes, it was appropriated to the prior's table, and to the cellarer of the priory; but after this, in the first of April following, it was appropriated entirely to the prior's table, and the church of Hemlington in Norfolk, appropriated to him instead of this.
In the reign of Edward I. there belonged to the appropriated rectory, a house, with 27 acres and a rood of land, and the church was valued at 25 marks, the vicarage at 5l. Peter-pence, 12d. and the portion of Kerbrook preceptory was 3s.—The prior had also a manor, Edward I. in his 35th year granting him free warren.
Vicars.
1256, Warin de Festorton, instituted vicar, presented by the prior and convent of Norwich.
John occurs vicar in 1299.
1304, Edmund Johnes, vicar.
Peter de Reynham, vicar.
1346, William de Aldeby.
1353, Oliver de Wytton.
1355, Roger de Felthorp.
1357, John de Massingham.
1365, John de Kynneburle; in his time, Ao. 2d of Richard II. the chancel of this church was new built; the prior granted 13 oaks out of Plumsted wood, and timber also out of St. Leonard's wood; and the expenses in money were 24l. 4l. 4d.
1386, Edmund Martyn, vicar.
On the dissolution of the priory, the manor belonging to it, with the rectory, and the patronage of the vicarage, were granted to the dean and chapter of Norwich; and the vicarage is valued at 10l. per ann.
Mr. Henry Aldred, vicar.
In 1603, William Fleming, vicar, returned 296 communicants 1730.
1660, Edmund Wharton, (fn. 4) occurs vicar.
Mr. William Berney.
Richard Oram, by the dean and chapter of Norwich.
1762, Ephr. Megoe.
On a gravestone in the chancel,
Hic lapis in pannis Spicer tenet ossa Johannis Qui Quadringentesimo pius XL et iii - - - - Anno.
Hic jacet D'ns. Johs. Yop. quo'da' Rector. Ecclie de Boton.
¶Sir Robert Camownde, priest, was buried in 1482, in the chapel of St. John, of this church, and wills that all the said chapel be paved with marbyll stone, and to the gravestone of John Ovy, with his goods. (fn. 5) —Richard Watls buried in St. John Baptist's chapel 1509, and I will have a prest to sing and pray 6 years in the church except the Fryday in ev'ry week, in the chapel of St. Andrew of Worsted. Agnes Watts, his widow, buried in the said chapel, 1529, and benefactrix to the guilds of our Lady and St. Thomas, and to the repair of St. Andrew's chapel, and gives meadow land to find two lamps in the church for ever, if the King's laws will permit, otherwise to be sold and to buy cattle for that purpose.
Here was also St. John Baptist's guild. In the church were these arms; Gules, on a fess, argent, three flowers, azure, between three popinjays, borne by—prior of Norwich. Argent, a cross, sable, the priory arms. Calthorp and Stapleton.
www.british-history.ac.uk/topographical-hist-norfolk/vol1...
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As a measure of how civilised East Anglia is, it is a simple and cheap matter to explore the region by train and bicycle. There is a flat rate of nine pounds a day for unlimited travel between stations in Suffolk, Norfolk and East Cambridgeshire. You can take a bike on any train for a pound, although in reality conductors rarely charge for this service. This practice dates back to pre-privatisation days, and Anglia Railways and One Trains have continued to honour it, for which I am mightily grateful. The Suffolk and Norfolk Churches sites would not be so extensive without it.
I left Ipswich at twenty to eight. It was a thinly bright April morning, the sun without power beyond dazzling through the haze in the eastern sky. I was glad of my jacket, but also glad I had sun glasses with me - it was going to be a perfect day for a bike ride.
As the train plodded through Ipswich's monotonous northern suburbs, I examined the ordnance survey map. I flicked through Pevsner and Mortlock, as industrial units gave way to green fields, copses and the winding Gipping. Restless, I gazed out the window. A swan awoke on a lake near Needham Market, stretching itself and beating its wings into life. Crows raided a skip on rubble near the Stowmarket paint factory. Then we were really in the countryside, rushing headlong through the sleepy fields beyond Haughley and Mendelsham. Near Finningham, a large female deer cowered silently in the hedge, not ten metres from the track. A few minutes later, and a wise old hare huddled in a furrow, flat-eared, patient.
The train pulled into the gathering surprise of Norwich. I hauled my bike a couple of platforms over to the Sheringham line. Other people out for the day got on, including a couple dressed in vintage railway costumes. I assumed they were bound for the steam line at Sheringham. Again, the monotony of another city's suburbs petered out into agricultural business, this time in bright sunshine, and so it was that just after nine o'clock we arrived at Worstead station. I was the only person to get off. "See you later" called the conductor cheerily as I rode off of the platform into the lane, and of course he was right. There is only one train that shuttles back and forth along this line all day, and he was in charge of it.
I cycled from the station up into the village, a distance of about two miles. I didn't pass anyone, and here in the large village there was nobody about, just a fat cat lazily rolling in the village square. The sun was cutting the haze, the sky wide and blue. It was like being in France.
The church is absolutely enormous, and hemmed in a tight little graveyard. My resolution to take more distant shots went right out the window. Like Salle, and Southwold in Suffolk, St Mary was all built in one go, pretty much. This happened in the late 14th century. As at Salle, it is reflective of a large number of bequests from different people over a short period rather than anyone fabulously rich doing it on their own, and the money, of course, came from wool. Worstead is still the name of a fabric today.
I said it was pretty much built at one go, but there was still plenty of money about in the 15th century to raise the clerestory and install a hammerbeam roof. This seems to have been such an ambitious project that flying buttresses had to be installed on top of the aisles to hold the top of the nave up, an expedient measure that has left the building both interesting and beautiful.
Inside, I feared another Happisburgh, but it was gorgeous. Stepping out of the sunlight into the slight chill of a vast open space, I wandered around feasting on this stunningly lovely building.
As regular users of the sites will know, I don't always warm to big churches, but St Mary is so pretty inside that it is hard not to love it. This is partly helped by the removal of all pews and benches from the aisle. Those that remain in the body of the church are lovely 18th century box pews, quite out of keeping with the medieval nature of the rest of the building, but quirky and oddly delightful. The great tower arch is elegant, and is thrown into relief by the towering font cover. The ringing gallery under the tower is dated 1501, and is reminiscent of the one at Cawston. The tower screen below it takes the breath away, and you find yourself looking around to see where it could have come from. In fact, it is almost certainly a work of the Victorians, but it is pretty well perfect. The paintings in the dado are apparently copies of windows by Sir Joshua Reynolds at New College, Oxford.
Worstead is rightly famous for its screen, but this is more because of its height, elegance and completeness than it is its authenticity. The figures on the dado have been repainted so recklessly that it is rather hard to see who some of them were ever meant to be. As at Woolpit in Suffolk, the Victorians appear to have repainted them more with an eye to enthusiasm than accuracy. I stood there, fantasising, making up stories, until, alongside familiar figures like St Peter, St James and St Matthew, I had identified St Lassitude, the patron Saint of a quiet night in, depicted reading his book. Other Saints, identified by their symbols, include St Quirinus with his hamster, and St Obligamus with his golden pineapple. Or so it seemed to me.
Not much less odd are the two figures on the extreme right. The Victorians do not appear to have repainted them. The first shows a man holding three nails, and is probably St William of Norwich, more familiar from the screen at Loddon. The second shows a figure crucified, arms tied to the spans. This may be the infamous Uncumber, the bearded lady of early medieval mythology - she grew a beard to fend off unwanted suitors, although you can't help thinking there'd be a niche market for that kind of thing somewhere on the internet. Later, she was crucified, probably upside down. This figure is probably a woman, so nothing seems to fit better, although she isn't bearded as far as I could see. Situated on the extreme right, she is reflected by a crucified Christ as the Man of Sorrows on the extreme left.
Across the top rail, a dedicatory inscription winds, mysterious and beautiful.
Either side of the chancel arch and screen, the two aisle chapels are both in use, which is unusual and lovely. Both have small screens, each with just four figures. That on the north side is particularly lovely, and is where the blessed sacrament is reserved. The four figures are St Peter, St Bartholomew, St John the Baptist and St John the Divine. At least three of these are also on the rood screen, suggesting that either the images there are wholly Victorian, or these aisle screens came originally from elsewhere.
The south aisle chapel is simpler - it is here you enter the church through the priest door. The screen features another St Bartholomew, along with St Lawrence, St Philip and a Bishop.
St Mary is a building to wander around in, a place to enjoy for its great beauty rather than to interrogate for its medieval authenticity. As you turn corners, vistas open up; the view from the font to the south door, for example, or that back to the west from the chancel. All perfect, all stunning. The high church nature of the modern furnishings chimes perfectly with these architectural treats. And there are other significant medieval survivals - a fine brass of a Catholic priest, scraps of wall painting beside the chancel arch, and so on.
As at other churches in this benefice, the war memorial is complemented by photographs of all those commemorated. What a splendid idea, and what a labour of love. Also in common with other churches around here, St Mary has a second hand bookstall. As I explored the Worstead area, I found myself buying more and more of them, until by the time I got back to Ipswich station that evening, my rucksack was laden down with a dozen or more.
Simon Knott, April 2005