View allAll Photos Tagged Wetheringsett
0-4-0ST "Little Barford" at the water tower at Brockford & Wetheringsett on the Mid Suffolk Light Railway, May 2005.
I got to this junction and nearly didn't :-)
For more on the church of All Saints, Wetheringsett, see:-
This place was ENORMOUS! It was barely visible from the road, hidden by trees, and we had to cross a ditch by a little footbridge to get here. I'm guessing that it's another of the East Anglian wool churches.
Seen on our recent weekend away to Suffolk.
"Here lyeth the body of John Spelman esquier, who fyrst had to wyfe Judyth one of the daughters of Syr Clement Higham knight, and after Katherine ye daughter of William Saunders esqyer .
John had at the day of his death 4 sons and one daughter lyving viz Clement and William of the body of the said Judyth. & Robert , Francys and Bridget of ye bodye of ye sayd Katherine. John deceased ye 27th day of Aprell Ao 1581 "
(John Spelman of Narburgh 1581 was the son of John Spelman 1545 www.flickr.com/gp/52219527@N00/17Mv1W & Margaret 1558 daughter of Sir Thomas Blennerhassett of Frenze 1531 flic.kr/p/rp8dxz & Margaret d1561 flic.kr/p/qsrvxx daughter of John Braham of Wetheringsett and Joan Reyden 1519 www.flickr.com/gp/52219527@N00/4M48ZE
He m1 Judith 1570 daughter of Sir Clement Higham of Barrow Suffolk flic.kr/p/ag3hJy by 2nd wife Anne Waldegrave Bures
Children
1. Clement 1607 www.flickr.com/gp/52219527@N00/fXKuk7 m1 1602 Anna dsp only daughter and heiress of Edmund Carvill / Kervyll of Wiggenhall ; m2 Ursula 1647 daughter of Sir John Willoughby of Risley 1602 by Frances daughter of Henry Hun
2. William dsp
He m2 Catherine 1608 daughter of William Saunders 1570 & Joan Marston Mynne Widow of Edmund Kervylle / Carvil of Sandringham & Calthorpes 1570 who m3 Sir Miles Corbet 1607 of Sprowston www.flickr.com/gp/52219527@N00/57594Z
Children
1. Robert
2. Francis
3. Bridget m Anthony Drury of Besthorpe 1628 - Church of All Saints, Narborough Norfolk
On the south wall of the chancel is the brass figures of John Eyre 1561 & wife Margaret Blennerhassett Spelman 1558
"Here do lye John Eyer, late Receyvor Generale to Elizabethe the Quenes Majestie in the Counties of Norfolk, Suffolk, Cantabridge, and Huntynton, and one of the Maisters of her hyghe Court of Chancerye, and Margaret his Wyfe, one of the daughters of Sir Thomas Bleverhaiset of Frens Knight, late Wyfe of John Spelman Esquire, Sone and Heyre apparent of Syr John Spelman Knyght, which John Eyre dy'd the xxth Daye of May, the Yere of our Lord MV LXI. and in the thirde Yere of the Raing of Elizabeth by the Grace of God Quene of England, France, and Ireland, Defender of the Faithe, and the said Margaret dy'd the xvth Day of December in the Yere of our Lord MDLVIII".
John's scroll reads "with the Lord there is Mercy
and on Margaret's "and with hym is plenteous redemption"
Above are 3 shields :
Over John - 1st Quarterly in 1st and 4th arg. on a chevron in a bordure ingrailed sab. bezant three quaterfoils arg. (Eyre), in the 2d and 3d Townsend.
Middle quarterly Eyre and Spelman, escutcheon,
Over Margaret - quarterly Eyre and Townsend; impaling 1st, Blennerhasset, and his quarterings in the second place Lowdham. In the fourth Orton. In the fifth Skelton, and in the 6th and last quarter, Bleverhasset.
Margaret 1558 was the daughter of Sir Thomas Blennerhassett of Frenze 1531 flic.kr/p/rp8dxz & Margaret d1561 flic.kr/p/qsrvxx daughter of John Braham of Wetheringsett and Joan Reyden 1519 www.flickr.com/gp/52219527@N00/30oPQ
She m1 John Spelman 1545 www.flickr.com/gp/52219527@N00/76C330 only son of Judge Sir John Spelman and Elizabeth Frowyke www.flickr.com/gp/52219527@N00/9Rj86X co-heiress daughter of Henry Frowyke of Gunnersby / Gunnersbury, Middlesex & 2nd wife Margaret daughter of Ralph Leigh by Elizabeth Langley
Children - 2 sons & 2 daughters
1. Thomas dsp
2. John Spelman of Narburgh 1581 www.flickr.com/gp/52219527@N00/H69W16 m1 Judith 1570 daughter of Sir Clement Higham of Barrow Suffolk flic.kr/p/ag3hJy by 2nd wife Anne Waldegrave Bures m2 Catherine, daughter of William Saunders of Ewell in Surrey
She m2 John Eyre dsp 1561 <of Lyn, Receiver General to Queen Elizabeth for the counties of Norfolk, Suffolk, Cambridgshire & Huntingdon
John Eyre was a great purchaser of religious houses that were dissolved by King Henry VIII. and bought of that King, the Friars Carmelites, the Gray Friers, the Friars Preachers or Black Friars, and the Augustin Friars at Lynn, &c. He also possessed Bury abbey. - Church of All Saints, Narborough Norfolk
St Mary, Friston, Suffolk
Friston is a medium-sized village out in the rolling fields beyond Saxmundham and Leiston which seems to have an air of quiet self-sufficiency about it. In 2010 I had been here on the hottest day of the year so far, nearing the end of a meandering bicycle tour of the north and east of Suffolk. The train at Saxmundham was an hour off, but I headed south again, from the Saxmundham to Leiston road, under the vast chain of power lines that links the Sizewell nuclear power station with the rest of the country. I recalled vividly coming this way back at the start of the century, on that occasion a darkening afternoon in late November. I had cut a swathe along roads which ran like streams. All around was water, after the wettest autumn for 250 years. The power lines sizzled and cracked as I threaded through the pylons and beneath them, the sound of 10,000 quintillion volts of nuclear-generated electricity urgently seeking the shortest possible path to the ground. This concentrated my mind somewhat, as you may imagine.
And now it was 2019 I was here in spring, the trees coming into leaf like something almost being said, and it took me a moment to recognise the lane up to the church, in its huddle of houses with the curiously urban hall opposite.
It must be said that the tower of St Mary is rather striking. The tower seems to be a Victorian rebuild, and quite a late one. Mortlock generously considers that it is an exact copy of what was there before. In all honestly, I would find this doubtful, if it were not for the fact that the architect was Edward Bishopp, a man not best remembered for his creative imagination. The most striking features are the niches, one in each buttress, and a possible rood group above the west window. This is a bit like the same at Parham and Cotton, and the buttresses like those at Wetheringsett, so they may be original, or perhaps just based on those other churches. The body of the church must be Norman originally, judging by the blocked north door, but there are so many late Perpendicular windows, I wonder if it wasn't entirely rebuilt retaining the doorway sometime in the early 16th century.
As with all the churches around here St Mary is open daily, an evocative and intimate space which you step down into to be confronted by the Parish of Friston's most famous possession. This is the massive James I coat of arms. It is fully eight feet wide and six feet high, carved from boards six inches thick. The story goes that it was found in pieces in the belfry by Munro Cautley during his trawl of Suffolk churches in the 1930s. In his capacity as Diocesan architect, he insisted that the churchwardens repair it, and restore it to its rightful place. However, since the chancel tympanum where it had hung had been removed by the Victorians, this presented the churchwardens with an interesting problem. So, they solved it by attaching the arms to the north wall of the nave, level with the tops of the pews, where it remains. it is not in great condition, but it is rather extraordinary to be able to see it at such close quarters.
The nave is long and narrow, under an arch-braced roof. The 19th century font stands on an upturned medieval one as its pedestal, with a rather good early 20th century font cover. At the other end of the church is something rather remarkable, an unspoiled late Victorian chancel. So many of these have been whitewashed in the last fifty years or so, but this is utterly charming, the walls painted and stencilled in pastel shades, and an ornate text running around the top of the walls. The finishing touch is Powell & Son's lush Risen Christ flanked by Mary and John in the east window. Another nice detail is the Mothers Union banner. Thousands of these were embroidered from kit form in the early 20th Century, but as at neighbouring Knodishall the one here has been customised with a hand-painted central image of the Blessed Virgin and child.
A memorial board reminds the parishioners of Friston that In the Year of Our Lord one thousand eight hundred and eleven, the Reverend John Lambert bequeathed to the parish the sum of two hundred pounds, to be placed in the 3£ per cent consols, and the interest thereof to be distributed by the churchwardens every Christmas ___ for ever: to poor Housekeepers who should not for twelve months preceding have received Pay of the Parish. The word Day or Eve has been eradicated at some point, perhaps for legal reasons, possibly because of the difficulty of getting to the bank in Saxmundham on a public holiday.
Two hundred pounds was a fairly large amount of money in 1811, roughly equivalent to forty thousand pounds today, and for ever must have seemed an enticing prospect. However, consols were effectively bonds, their value remaining the same but offering a guaranteed return (in this case three per cent) based on the perceived annual growth in the economy. Like endowment mortgages, they would turn out to be a fairly short-sighted enthusiasm. The safe return from consols came to an end as a result of the great depression of the 1870s and 1880s, and inflation thereafter reduced such holdings to almost nothing. The Reverend Lambert would have been better off investing in land or gold, but such is the gift of hindsight, of course.
Falmouth Docks No.4 takes on water at Brockfrod & Wetheringsett on the Mid Suffolk Light Railway. Taken during May 2010. This 0-4-0 saddle tank was built by Robert Stephenson and Hawthorn .
St Mary, Friston, Suffolk
Friston is a medium-sized village out in the rolling fields beyond Saxmundham and Leiston which seems to have an air of quiet self-sufficiency about it. In 2010 I had been here on the hottest day of the year so far, nearing the end of a meandering bicycle tour of the north and east of Suffolk. The train at Saxmundham was an hour off, but I headed south again, from the Saxmundham to Leiston road, under the vast chain of power lines that links the Sizewell nuclear power station with the rest of the country. I recalled vividly coming this way back at the start of the century, on that occasion a darkening afternoon in late November. I had cut a swathe along roads which ran like streams. All around was water, after the wettest autumn for 250 years. The power lines sizzled and cracked as I threaded through the pylons and beneath them, the sound of 10,000 quintillion volts of nuclear-generated electricity urgently seeking the shortest possible path to the ground. This concentrated my mind somewhat, as you may imagine.
And now it was 2019 I was here in spring, the trees coming into leaf like something almost being said, and it took me a moment to recognise the lane up to the church, in its huddle of houses with the curiously urban hall opposite.
It must be said that the tower of St Mary is rather striking. The tower seems to be a Victorian rebuild, and quite a late one. Mortlock generously considers that it is an exact copy of what was there before. In all honestly, I would find this doubtful, if it were not for the fact that the architect was Edward Bishopp, a man not best remembered for his creative imagination. The most striking features are the niches, one in each buttress, and a possible rood group above the west window. This is a bit like the same at Parham and Cotton, and the buttresses like those at Wetheringsett, so they may be original, or perhaps just based on those other churches. The body of the church must be Norman originally, judging by the blocked north door, but there are so many late Perpendicular windows, I wonder if it wasn't entirely rebuilt retaining the doorway sometime in the early 16th century.
As with all the churches around here St Mary is open daily, an evocative and intimate space which you step down into to be confronted by the Parish of Friston's most famous possession. This is the massive James I coat of arms. It is fully eight feet wide and six feet high, carved from boards six inches thick. The story goes that it was found in pieces in the belfry by Munro Cautley during his trawl of Suffolk churches in the 1930s. In his capacity as Diocesan architect, he insisted that the churchwardens repair it, and restore it to its rightful place. However, since the chancel tympanum where it had hung had been removed by the Victorians, this presented the churchwardens with an interesting problem. So, they solved it by attaching the arms to the north wall of the nave, level with the tops of the pews, where it remains. it is not in great condition, but it is rather extraordinary to be able to see it at such close quarters.
The nave is long and narrow, under an arch-braced roof. The 19th century font stands on an upturned medieval one as its pedestal, with a rather good early 20th century font cover. At the other end of the church is something rather remarkable, an unspoiled late Victorian chancel. So many of these have been whitewashed in the last fifty years or so, but this is utterly charming, the walls painted and stencilled in pastel shades, and an ornate text running around the top of the walls. The finishing touch is Powell & Son's lush Risen Christ flanked by Mary and John in the east window. Another nice detail is the Mothers Union banner. Thousands of these were embroidered from kit form in the early 20th Century, but as at neighbouring Knodishall the one here has been customised with a hand-painted central image of the Blessed Virgin and child.
A memorial board reminds the parishioners of Friston that In the Year of Our Lord one thousand eight hundred and eleven, the Reverend John Lambert bequeathed to the parish the sum of two hundred pounds, to be placed in the 3£ per cent consols, and the interest thereof to be distributed by the churchwardens every Christmas ___ for ever: to poor Housekeepers who should not for twelve months preceding have received Pay of the Parish. The word Day or Eve has been eradicated at some point, perhaps for legal reasons, possibly because of the difficulty of getting to the bank in Saxmundham on a public holiday.
Two hundred pounds was a fairly large amount of money in 1811, roughly equivalent to forty thousand pounds today, and for ever must have seemed an enticing prospect. However, consols were effectively bonds, their value remaining the same but offering a guaranteed return (in this case three per cent) based on the perceived annual growth in the economy. Like endowment mortgages, they would turn out to be a fairly short-sighted enthusiasm. The safe return from consols came to an end as a result of the great depression of the 1870s and 1880s, and inflation thereafter reduced such holdings to almost nothing. The Reverend Lambert would have been better off investing in land or gold, but such is the gift of hindsight, of course.
St Mary, Friston, Suffolk
Friston is a medium-sized village out in the rolling fields beyond Saxmundham and Leiston which seems to have an air of quiet self-sufficiency about it. In 2010 I had been here on the hottest day of the year so far, nearing the end of a meandering bicycle tour of the north and east of Suffolk. The train at Saxmundham was an hour off, but I headed south again, from the Saxmundham to Leiston road, under the vast chain of power lines that links the Sizewell nuclear power station with the rest of the country. I recalled vividly coming this way back at the start of the century, on that occasion a darkening afternoon in late November. I had cut a swathe along roads which ran like streams. All around was water, after the wettest autumn for 250 years. The power lines sizzled and cracked as I threaded through the pylons and beneath them, the sound of 10,000 quintillion volts of nuclear-generated electricity urgently seeking the shortest possible path to the ground. This concentrated my mind somewhat, as you may imagine.
And now it was 2019 I was here in spring, the trees coming into leaf like something almost being said, and it took me a moment to recognise the lane up to the church, in its huddle of houses with the curiously urban hall opposite.
It must be said that the tower of St Mary is rather striking. The tower seems to be a Victorian rebuild, and quite a late one. Mortlock generously considers that it is an exact copy of what was there before. In all honestly, I would find this doubtful, if it were not for the fact that the architect was Edward Bishopp, a man not best remembered for his creative imagination. The most striking features are the niches, one in each buttress, and a possible rood group above the west window. This is a bit like the same at Parham and Cotton, and the buttresses like those at Wetheringsett, so they may be original, or perhaps just based on those other churches. The body of the church must be Norman originally, judging by the blocked north door, but there are so many late Perpendicular windows, I wonder if it wasn't entirely rebuilt retaining the doorway sometime in the early 16th century.
As with all the churches around here St Mary is open daily, an evocative and intimate space which you step down into to be confronted by the Parish of Friston's most famous possession. This is the massive James I coat of arms. It is fully eight feet wide and six feet high, carved from boards six inches thick. The story goes that it was found in pieces in the belfry by Munro Cautley during his trawl of Suffolk churches in the 1930s. In his capacity as Diocesan architect, he insisted that the churchwardens repair it, and restore it to its rightful place. However, since the chancel tympanum where it had hung had been removed by the Victorians, this presented the churchwardens with an interesting problem. So, they solved it by attaching the arms to the north wall of the nave, level with the tops of the pews, where it remains. it is not in great condition, but it is rather extraordinary to be able to see it at such close quarters.
The nave is long and narrow, under an arch-braced roof. The 19th century font stands on an upturned medieval one as its pedestal, with a rather good early 20th century font cover. At the other end of the church is something rather remarkable, an unspoiled late Victorian chancel. So many of these have been whitewashed in the last fifty years or so, but this is utterly charming, the walls painted and stencilled in pastel shades, and an ornate text running around the top of the walls. The finishing touch is Powell & Son's lush Risen Christ flanked by Mary and John in the east window. Another nice detail is the Mothers Union banner. Thousands of these were embroidered from kit form in the early 20th Century, but as at neighbouring Knodishall the one here has been customised with a hand-painted central image of the Blessed Virgin and child.
A memorial board reminds the parishioners of Friston that In the Year of Our Lord one thousand eight hundred and eleven, the Reverend John Lambert bequeathed to the parish the sum of two hundred pounds, to be placed in the 3£ per cent consols, and the interest thereof to be distributed by the churchwardens every Christmas ___ for ever: to poor Housekeepers who should not for twelve months preceding have received Pay of the Parish. The word Day or Eve has been eradicated at some point, perhaps for legal reasons, possibly because of the difficulty of getting to the bank in Saxmundham on a public holiday.
Two hundred pounds was a fairly large amount of money in 1811, roughly equivalent to forty thousand pounds today, and for ever must have seemed an enticing prospect. However, consols were effectively bonds, their value remaining the same but offering a guaranteed return (in this case three per cent) based on the perceived annual growth in the economy. Like endowment mortgages, they would turn out to be a fairly short-sighted enthusiasm. The safe return from consols came to an end as a result of the great depression of the 1870s and 1880s, and inflation thereafter reduced such holdings to almost nothing. The Reverend Lambert would have been better off investing in land or gold, but such is the gift of hindsight, of course.
I think the writing in the plaster above the post box says "Yea Post Nay Ponder".
We had stopped to look at the village sign opposite, then turned round and saw this amazing building. It's quite a small village, strung out along a rural road, so it's surprising that it's still got a post office. (I'm assuming it's still running, there were notices in the window. It was Sunday when we visited, so obviously not open then.)
Seen during our recent weekend in Suffolk.
The guard leaves a light trail along the platform as he goes to the brake van.
Last night (20th February) the Mid Suffolk Light Railway opened Brockford and Wetheringsett Station for a Middy by Lamplight event. The original station building was lit only by oil and parafin lamps. A diesel shunter provided brake van rides.
"Here lyeth John Spelman, esquyer, son & heyer apparant to Syr John Spelman, kniyght, one of the justices of plees xxx the kyng, to beholden, and Dame Elizabeth his wyfe,which John maryed Margaret one of the daughters of Sir Thomas Blenhassett, knyght, & Dame Margaret his wyfe, and had issue by the said Margaret too sonnes & too daughters lyving at the tyme of his deth, and decessed the 27th daye of December in the yere of ye Lorde God 1545 and in the 37th yere of the rayne of Kyng Henry Vlll, on whose soule Jesu have mercy"
John Spelman was the only son of Sir John Spelman and Elizabeth Frowyke www.flickr.com/gp/52219527@N00/9Rj86X co-heiress daughter of Henry Frowyke of Gunnersby / Gunnersbury, Middlesex & 2nd wife Margaret daughter of Ralph Leigh by Elizabeth Langley
He m Margaret 1558 daughter of Sir Thomas Blennerhassett of Frenze 1531 flic.kr/p/rp8dxz & Margaret d1561 flic.kr/p/qsrvxx daughter of John Braham of Wetheringsett and Joan Reyden 1519 flic.kr/p/rmRqsL
Children - 2 sons & 2 daughters
1. Thomas dsp
2. John Spelman of Narburgh 1581 www.flickr.com/gp/52219527@N00/H69W16 m1 Judith 1570 daughter of Sir Clement Higham of Barrow Suffolk flic.kr/p/ag3hJy by 2nd wife Anne Waldegrave Bures m2 Catherine, daughter of William Saunders of Ewell in Surrey
Margaret m2 John Eyre dsp 1561 www.flickr.com/gp/52219527@N00/j379T8 of Lyn, Receiver General to Queen Elizabeth for the counties of Norfolk, Suffolk, Cambridgshire & Huntingdon
www.british-history.ac.uk/topographical-hist-norfolk/vol6... - Church of All Saints, Narborough Norfolk
"Here lyeth John Spelman, esquyer, son & heyer apparant to Syr John Spelman, kniyght, one of the justices of plees xxx the kyng, to beholden, and Dame Elizabeth his wyfe,which John maryed Margaret one of the daughters of Sir Thomas Blenhassett, knyght, & Dame Margaret his wyfe, and had issue by the said Margaret too sonnes & too daughters lyving at the tyme of his deth, and decessed the 27th daye of December in the yere of ye Lorde God 1545 and in the 37th yere of the rayne of Kyng Henry Vlll, on whose soule Jesu have mercy"
John Spelman was the only son of Sir John Spelman and Elizabeth Frowyke www.flickr.com/gp/52219527@N00/9Rj86X co-heiress daughter of Henry Frowyke of Gunnersby / Gunnersbury, Middlesex & 2nd wife Margaret daughter of Ralph Leigh by Elizabeth Langley
He m Margaret 1558 daughter of Sir Thomas Blennerhassett of Frenze 1531 flic.kr/p/rp8dxz & Margaret d1561 flic.kr/p/qsrvxx daughter of John Braham of Wetheringsett and Joan Reyden 1519 flic.kr/p/rmRqsL
Children - 2 sons & 2 daughters
1. Thomas dsp
2. John Spelman of Narburgh 1581 www.flickr.com/gp/52219527@N00/H69W16 m1 Judith 1570 daughter of Sir Clement Higham of Barrow Suffolk flic.kr/p/ag3hJy by 2nd wife Anne Waldegrave Bures m2 Catherine, daughter of William Saunders of Ewell in Surrey
Margaret m2 John Eyre dsp 1561 www.flickr.com/gp/52219527@N00/j379T8 of Lyn, Receiver General to Queen Elizabeth for the counties of Norfolk, Suffolk, Cambridgshire & Huntingdon
www.british-history.ac.uk/topographical-hist-norfolk/vol6... - Church of All Saints, Narborough Norfolk
All Saints, Wetheringsett, Suffolk
A grand late medieval church in a quiet village not far from the A140. The Perpendicular windows and the walls of glass of the clerestory fill it full of light.
St Mary, Friston, Suffolk
Friston is a medium-sized village out in the rolling fields beyond Saxmundham and Leiston which seems to have an air of quiet self-sufficiency about it. In 2010 I had been here on the hottest day of the year so far, nearing the end of a meandering bicycle tour of the north and east of Suffolk. The train at Saxmundham was an hour off, but I headed south again, from the Saxmundham to Leiston road, under the vast chain of power lines that links the Sizewell nuclear power station with the rest of the country. I recalled vividly coming this way back at the start of the century, on that occasion a darkening afternoon in late November. I had cut a swathe along roads which ran like streams. All around was water, after the wettest autumn for 250 years. The power lines sizzled and cracked as I threaded through the pylons and beneath them, the sound of 10,000 quintillion volts of nuclear-generated electricity urgently seeking the shortest possible path to the ground. This concentrated my mind somewhat, as you may imagine.
And now it was 2019 I was here in spring, the trees coming into leaf like something almost being said, and it took me a moment to recognise the lane up to the church, in its huddle of houses with the curiously urban hall opposite.
It must be said that the tower of St Mary is rather striking. The tower seems to be a Victorian rebuild, and quite a late one. Mortlock generously considers that it is an exact copy of what was there before. In all honestly, I would find this doubtful, if it were not for the fact that the architect was Edward Bishopp, a man not best remembered for his creative imagination. The most striking features are the niches, one in each buttress, and a possible rood group above the west window. This is a bit like the same at Parham and Cotton, and the buttresses like those at Wetheringsett, so they may be original, or perhaps just based on those other churches. The body of the church must be Norman originally, judging by the blocked north door, but there are so many late Perpendicular windows, I wonder if it wasn't entirely rebuilt retaining the doorway sometime in the early 16th century.
As with all the churches around here St Mary is open daily, an evocative and intimate space which you step down into to be confronted by the Parish of Friston's most famous possession. This is the massive James I coat of arms. It is fully eight feet wide and six feet high, carved from boards six inches thick. The story goes that it was found in pieces in the belfry by Munro Cautley during his trawl of Suffolk churches in the 1930s. In his capacity as Diocesan architect, he insisted that the churchwardens repair it, and restore it to its rightful place. However, since the chancel tympanum where it had hung had been removed by the Victorians, this presented the churchwardens with an interesting problem. So, they solved it by attaching the arms to the north wall of the nave, level with the tops of the pews, where it remains. it is not in great condition, but it is rather extraordinary to be able to see it at such close quarters.
The nave is long and narrow, under an arch-braced roof. The 19th century font stands on an upturned medieval one as its pedestal, with a rather good early 20th century font cover. At the other end of the church is something rather remarkable, an unspoiled late Victorian chancel. So many of these have been whitewashed in the last fifty years or so, but this is utterly charming, the walls painted and stencilled in pastel shades, and an ornate text running around the top of the walls. The finishing touch is Powell & Son's lush Risen Christ flanked by Mary and John in the east window. Another nice detail is the Mothers Union banner. Thousands of these were embroidered from kit form in the early 20th Century, but as at neighbouring Knodishall the one here has been customised with a hand-painted central image of the Blessed Virgin and child.
A memorial board reminds the parishioners of Friston that In the Year of Our Lord one thousand eight hundred and eleven, the Reverend John Lambert bequeathed to the parish the sum of two hundred pounds, to be placed in the 3£ per cent consols, and the interest thereof to be distributed by the churchwardens every Christmas ___ for ever: to poor Housekeepers who should not for twelve months preceding have received Pay of the Parish. The word Day or Eve has been eradicated at some point, perhaps for legal reasons, possibly because of the difficulty of getting to the bank in Saxmundham on a public holiday.
Two hundred pounds was a fairly large amount of money in 1811, roughly equivalent to forty thousand pounds today, and for ever must have seemed an enticing prospect. However, consols were effectively bonds, their value remaining the same but offering a guaranteed return (in this case three per cent) based on the perceived annual growth in the economy. Like endowment mortgages, they would turn out to be a fairly short-sighted enthusiasm. The safe return from consols came to an end as a result of the great depression of the 1870s and 1880s, and inflation thereafter reduced such holdings to almost nothing. The Reverend Lambert would have been better off investing in land or gold, but such is the gift of hindsight, of course.
St Mary, Friston, Suffolk
Friston is a medium-sized village out in the rolling fields beyond Saxmundham and Leiston which seems to have an air of quiet self-sufficiency about it. In 2010 I had been here on the hottest day of the year so far, nearing the end of a meandering bicycle tour of the north and east of Suffolk. The train at Saxmundham was an hour off, but I headed south again, from the Saxmundham to Leiston road, under the vast chain of power lines that links the Sizewell nuclear power station with the rest of the country. I recalled vividly coming this way back at the start of the century, on that occasion a darkening afternoon in late November. I had cut a swathe along roads which ran like streams. All around was water, after the wettest autumn for 250 years. The power lines sizzled and cracked as I threaded through the pylons and beneath them, the sound of 10,000 quintillion volts of nuclear-generated electricity urgently seeking the shortest possible path to the ground. This concentrated my mind somewhat, as you may imagine.
And now it was 2019 I was here in spring, the trees coming into leaf like something almost being said, and it took me a moment to recognise the lane up to the church, in its huddle of houses with the curiously urban hall opposite.
It must be said that the tower of St Mary is rather striking. The tower seems to be a Victorian rebuild, and quite a late one. Mortlock generously considers that it is an exact copy of what was there before. In all honestly, I would find this doubtful, if it were not for the fact that the architect was Edward Bishopp, a man not best remembered for his creative imagination. The most striking features are the niches, one in each buttress, and a possible rood group above the west window. This is a bit like the same at Parham and Cotton, and the buttresses like those at Wetheringsett, so they may be original, or perhaps just based on those other churches. The body of the church must be Norman originally, judging by the blocked north door, but there are so many late Perpendicular windows, I wonder if it wasn't entirely rebuilt retaining the doorway sometime in the early 16th century.
As with all the churches around here St Mary is open daily, an evocative and intimate space which you step down into to be confronted by the Parish of Friston's most famous possession. This is the massive James I coat of arms. It is fully eight feet wide and six feet high, carved from boards six inches thick. The story goes that it was found in pieces in the belfry by Munro Cautley during his trawl of Suffolk churches in the 1930s. In his capacity as Diocesan architect, he insisted that the churchwardens repair it, and restore it to its rightful place. However, since the chancel tympanum where it had hung had been removed by the Victorians, this presented the churchwardens with an interesting problem. So, they solved it by attaching the arms to the north wall of the nave, level with the tops of the pews, where it remains. it is not in great condition, but it is rather extraordinary to be able to see it at such close quarters.
The nave is long and narrow, under an arch-braced roof. The 19th century font stands on an upturned medieval one as its pedestal, with a rather good early 20th century font cover. At the other end of the church is something rather remarkable, an unspoiled late Victorian chancel. So many of these have been whitewashed in the last fifty years or so, but this is utterly charming, the walls painted and stencilled in pastel shades, and an ornate text running around the top of the walls. The finishing touch is Powell & Son's lush Risen Christ flanked by Mary and John in the east window. Another nice detail is the Mothers Union banner. Thousands of these were embroidered from kit form in the early 20th Century, but as at neighbouring Knodishall the one here has been customised with a hand-painted central image of the Blessed Virgin and child.
A memorial board reminds the parishioners of Friston that In the Year of Our Lord one thousand eight hundred and eleven, the Reverend John Lambert bequeathed to the parish the sum of two hundred pounds, to be placed in the 3£ per cent consols, and the interest thereof to be distributed by the churchwardens every Christmas ___ for ever: to poor Housekeepers who should not for twelve months preceding have received Pay of the Parish. The word Day or Eve has been eradicated at some point, perhaps for legal reasons, possibly because of the difficulty of getting to the bank in Saxmundham on a public holiday.
Two hundred pounds was a fairly large amount of money in 1811, roughly equivalent to forty thousand pounds today, and for ever must have seemed an enticing prospect. However, consols were effectively bonds, their value remaining the same but offering a guaranteed return (in this case three per cent) based on the perceived annual growth in the economy. Like endowment mortgages, they would turn out to be a fairly short-sighted enthusiasm. The safe return from consols came to an end as a result of the great depression of the 1870s and 1880s, and inflation thereafter reduced such holdings to almost nothing. The Reverend Lambert would have been better off investing in land or gold, but such is the gift of hindsight, of course.
A range of vintage vehicles taken at the Mid Suffolk Railway's "Middy at War" event on 3rd May 2010.
The line up includes a Morris and a Morris Commercial lorry.
St Mary, Friston, Suffolk
Friston is a medium-sized village out in the rolling fields beyond Saxmundham and Leiston which seems to have an air of quiet self-sufficiency about it. In 2010 I had been here on the hottest day of the year so far, nearing the end of a meandering bicycle tour of the north and east of Suffolk. The train at Saxmundham was an hour off, but I headed south again, from the Saxmundham to Leiston road, under the vast chain of power lines that links the Sizewell nuclear power station with the rest of the country. I recalled vividly coming this way back at the start of the century, on that occasion a darkening afternoon in late November. I had cut a swathe along roads which ran like streams. All around was water, after the wettest autumn for 250 years. The power lines sizzled and cracked as I threaded through the pylons and beneath them, the sound of 10,000 quintillion volts of nuclear-generated electricity urgently seeking the shortest possible path to the ground. This concentrated my mind somewhat, as you may imagine.
And now it was 2019 I was here in spring, the trees coming into leaf like something almost being said, and it took me a moment to recognise the lane up to the church, in its huddle of houses with the curiously urban hall opposite.
It must be said that the tower of St Mary is rather striking. The tower seems to be a Victorian rebuild, and quite a late one. Mortlock generously considers that it is an exact copy of what was there before. In all honestly, I would find this doubtful, if it were not for the fact that the architect was Edward Bishopp, a man not best remembered for his creative imagination. The most striking features are the niches, one in each buttress, and a possible rood group above the west window. This is a bit like the same at Parham and Cotton, and the buttresses like those at Wetheringsett, so they may be original, or perhaps just based on those other churches. The body of the church must be Norman originally, judging by the blocked north door, but there are so many late Perpendicular windows, I wonder if it wasn't entirely rebuilt retaining the doorway sometime in the early 16th century.
As with all the churches around here St Mary is open daily, an evocative and intimate space which you step down into to be confronted by the Parish of Friston's most famous possession. This is the massive James I coat of arms. It is fully eight feet wide and six feet high, carved from boards six inches thick. The story goes that it was found in pieces in the belfry by Munro Cautley during his trawl of Suffolk churches in the 1930s. In his capacity as Diocesan architect, he insisted that the churchwardens repair it, and restore it to its rightful place. However, since the chancel tympanum where it had hung had been removed by the Victorians, this presented the churchwardens with an interesting problem. So, they solved it by attaching the arms to the north wall of the nave, level with the tops of the pews, where it remains. it is not in great condition, but it is rather extraordinary to be able to see it at such close quarters.
The nave is long and narrow, under an arch-braced roof. The 19th century font stands on an upturned medieval one as its pedestal, with a rather good early 20th century font cover. At the other end of the church is something rather remarkable, an unspoiled late Victorian chancel. So many of these have been whitewashed in the last fifty years or so, but this is utterly charming, the walls painted and stencilled in pastel shades, and an ornate text running around the top of the walls. The finishing touch is Powell & Son's lush Risen Christ flanked by Mary and John in the east window. Another nice detail is the Mothers Union banner. Thousands of these were embroidered from kit form in the early 20th Century, but as at neighbouring Knodishall the one here has been customised with a hand-painted central image of the Blessed Virgin and child.
A memorial board reminds the parishioners of Friston that In the Year of Our Lord one thousand eight hundred and eleven, the Reverend John Lambert bequeathed to the parish the sum of two hundred pounds, to be placed in the 3£ per cent consols, and the interest thereof to be distributed by the churchwardens every Christmas ___ for ever: to poor Housekeepers who should not for twelve months preceding have received Pay of the Parish. The word Day or Eve has been eradicated at some point, perhaps for legal reasons, possibly because of the difficulty of getting to the bank in Saxmundham on a public holiday.
Two hundred pounds was a fairly large amount of money in 1811, roughly equivalent to forty thousand pounds today, and for ever must have seemed an enticing prospect. However, consols were effectively bonds, their value remaining the same but offering a guaranteed return (in this case three per cent) based on the perceived annual growth in the economy. Like endowment mortgages, they would turn out to be a fairly short-sighted enthusiasm. The safe return from consols came to an end as a result of the great depression of the 1870s and 1880s, and inflation thereafter reduced such holdings to almost nothing. The Reverend Lambert would have been better off investing in land or gold, but such is the gift of hindsight, of course.
St Mary, Friston, Suffolk
Friston is a medium-sized village out in the rolling fields beyond Saxmundham and Leiston which seems to have an air of quiet self-sufficiency about it. In 2010 I had been here on the hottest day of the year so far, nearing the end of a meandering bicycle tour of the north and east of Suffolk. The train at Saxmundham was an hour off, but I headed south again, from the Saxmundham to Leiston road, under the vast chain of power lines that links the Sizewell nuclear power station with the rest of the country. I recalled vividly coming this way back at the start of the century, on that occasion a darkening afternoon in late November. I had cut a swathe along roads which ran like streams. All around was water, after the wettest autumn for 250 years. The power lines sizzled and cracked as I threaded through the pylons and beneath them, the sound of 10,000 quintillion volts of nuclear-generated electricity urgently seeking the shortest possible path to the ground. This concentrated my mind somewhat, as you may imagine.
And now it was 2019 I was here in spring, the trees coming into leaf like something almost being said, and it took me a moment to recognise the lane up to the church, in its huddle of houses with the curiously urban hall opposite.
It must be said that the tower of St Mary is rather striking. The tower seems to be a Victorian rebuild, and quite a late one. Mortlock generously considers that it is an exact copy of what was there before. In all honestly, I would find this doubtful, if it were not for the fact that the architect was Edward Bishopp, a man not best remembered for his creative imagination. The most striking features are the niches, one in each buttress, and a possible rood group above the west window. This is a bit like the same at Parham and Cotton, and the buttresses like those at Wetheringsett, so they may be original, or perhaps just based on those other churches. The body of the church must be Norman originally, judging by the blocked north door, but there are so many late Perpendicular windows, I wonder if it wasn't entirely rebuilt retaining the doorway sometime in the early 16th century.
As with all the churches around here St Mary is open daily, an evocative and intimate space which you step down into to be confronted by the Parish of Friston's most famous possession. This is the massive James I coat of arms. It is fully eight feet wide and six feet high, carved from boards six inches thick. The story goes that it was found in pieces in the belfry by Munro Cautley during his trawl of Suffolk churches in the 1930s. In his capacity as Diocesan architect, he insisted that the churchwardens repair it, and restore it to its rightful place. However, since the chancel tympanum where it had hung had been removed by the Victorians, this presented the churchwardens with an interesting problem. So, they solved it by attaching the arms to the north wall of the nave, level with the tops of the pews, where it remains. it is not in great condition, but it is rather extraordinary to be able to see it at such close quarters.
The nave is long and narrow, under an arch-braced roof. The 19th century font stands on an upturned medieval one as its pedestal, with a rather good early 20th century font cover. At the other end of the church is something rather remarkable, an unspoiled late Victorian chancel. So many of these have been whitewashed in the last fifty years or so, but this is utterly charming, the walls painted and stencilled in pastel shades, and an ornate text running around the top of the walls. The finishing touch is Powell & Son's lush Risen Christ flanked by Mary and John in the east window. Another nice detail is the Mothers Union banner. Thousands of these were embroidered from kit form in the early 20th Century, but as at neighbouring Knodishall the one here has been customised with a hand-painted central image of the Blessed Virgin and child.
A memorial board reminds the parishioners of Friston that In the Year of Our Lord one thousand eight hundred and eleven, the Reverend John Lambert bequeathed to the parish the sum of two hundred pounds, to be placed in the 3£ per cent consols, and the interest thereof to be distributed by the churchwardens every Christmas ___ for ever: to poor Housekeepers who should not for twelve months preceding have received Pay of the Parish. The word Day or Eve has been eradicated at some point, perhaps for legal reasons, possibly because of the difficulty of getting to the bank in Saxmundham on a public holiday.
Two hundred pounds was a fairly large amount of money in 1811, roughly equivalent to forty thousand pounds today, and for ever must have seemed an enticing prospect. However, consols were effectively bonds, their value remaining the same but offering a guaranteed return (in this case three per cent) based on the perceived annual growth in the economy. Like endowment mortgages, they would turn out to be a fairly short-sighted enthusiasm. The safe return from consols came to an end as a result of the great depression of the 1870s and 1880s, and inflation thereafter reduced such holdings to almost nothing. The Reverend Lambert would have been better off investing in land or gold, but such is the gift of hindsight, of course.
St Mary, Friston, Suffolk
Friston is a medium-sized village out in the rolling fields beyond Saxmundham and Leiston which seems to have an air of quiet self-sufficiency about it. In 2010 I had been here on the hottest day of the year so far, nearing the end of a meandering bicycle tour of the north and east of Suffolk. The train at Saxmundham was an hour off, but I headed south again, from the Saxmundham to Leiston road, under the vast chain of power lines that links the Sizewell nuclear power station with the rest of the country. I recalled vividly coming this way back at the start of the century, on that occasion a darkening afternoon in late November. I had cut a swathe along roads which ran like streams. All around was water, after the wettest autumn for 250 years. The power lines sizzled and cracked as I threaded through the pylons and beneath them, the sound of 10,000 quintillion volts of nuclear-generated electricity urgently seeking the shortest possible path to the ground. This concentrated my mind somewhat, as you may imagine.
And now it was 2019 I was here in spring, the trees coming into leaf like something almost being said, and it took me a moment to recognise the lane up to the church, in its huddle of houses with the curiously urban hall opposite.
It must be said that the tower of St Mary is rather striking. The tower seems to be a Victorian rebuild, and quite a late one. Mortlock generously considers that it is an exact copy of what was there before. In all honestly, I would find this doubtful, if it were not for the fact that the architect was Edward Bishopp, a man not best remembered for his creative imagination. The most striking features are the niches, one in each buttress, and a possible rood group above the west window. This is a bit like the same at Parham and Cotton, and the buttresses like those at Wetheringsett, so they may be original, or perhaps just based on those other churches. The body of the church must be Norman originally, judging by the blocked north door, but there are so many late Perpendicular windows, I wonder if it wasn't entirely rebuilt retaining the doorway sometime in the early 16th century.
As with all the churches around here St Mary is open daily, an evocative and intimate space which you step down into to be confronted by the Parish of Friston's most famous possession. This is the massive James I coat of arms. It is fully eight feet wide and six feet high, carved from boards six inches thick. The story goes that it was found in pieces in the belfry by Munro Cautley during his trawl of Suffolk churches in the 1930s. In his capacity as Diocesan architect, he insisted that the churchwardens repair it, and restore it to its rightful place. However, since the chancel tympanum where it had hung had been removed by the Victorians, this presented the churchwardens with an interesting problem. So, they solved it by attaching the arms to the north wall of the nave, level with the tops of the pews, where it remains. it is not in great condition, but it is rather extraordinary to be able to see it at such close quarters.
The nave is long and narrow, under an arch-braced roof. The 19th century font stands on an upturned medieval one as its pedestal, with a rather good early 20th century font cover. At the other end of the church is something rather remarkable, an unspoiled late Victorian chancel. So many of these have been whitewashed in the last fifty years or so, but this is utterly charming, the walls painted and stencilled in pastel shades, and an ornate text running around the top of the walls. The finishing touch is Powell & Son's lush Risen Christ flanked by Mary and John in the east window. Another nice detail is the Mothers Union banner. Thousands of these were embroidered from kit form in the early 20th Century, but as at neighbouring Knodishall the one here has been customised with a hand-painted central image of the Blessed Virgin and child.
A memorial board reminds the parishioners of Friston that In the Year of Our Lord one thousand eight hundred and eleven, the Reverend John Lambert bequeathed to the parish the sum of two hundred pounds, to be placed in the 3£ per cent consols, and the interest thereof to be distributed by the churchwardens every Christmas ___ for ever: to poor Housekeepers who should not for twelve months preceding have received Pay of the Parish. The word Day or Eve has been eradicated at some point, perhaps for legal reasons, possibly because of the difficulty of getting to the bank in Saxmundham on a public holiday.
Two hundred pounds was a fairly large amount of money in 1811, roughly equivalent to forty thousand pounds today, and for ever must have seemed an enticing prospect. However, consols were effectively bonds, their value remaining the same but offering a guaranteed return (in this case three per cent) based on the perceived annual growth in the economy. Like endowment mortgages, they would turn out to be a fairly short-sighted enthusiasm. The safe return from consols came to an end as a result of the great depression of the 1870s and 1880s, and inflation thereafter reduced such holdings to almost nothing. The Reverend Lambert would have been better off investing in land or gold, but such is the gift of hindsight, of course.
"Here lyeth the body of John Spelman esquier, who fyrst had to wyfe Judyth one of the daughters of Syr Clement Higham knight, and after Katherine ye daughter of William Saunders esqyer .
John had at the day of his death 4 sons and one daughter lyving viz Clement and William of the body of the said Judyth. & Robert , Francys and Bridget of ye bodye of ye sayd Katherine. John deceased ye 27th day of Aprell Ao 1581 "
(John Spelman of Narburgh 1581 was the son of John Spelman 1545 www.flickr.com/gp/52219527@N00/17Mv1W & Margaret 1558 daughter of Sir Thomas Blennerhassett of Frenze 1531 flic.kr/p/rp8dxz & Margaret d1561 flic.kr/p/qsrvxx daughter of John Braham of Wetheringsett and Joan Reyden 1519 www.flickr.com/gp/52219527@N00/4M48ZE
He m1 Judith 1570 daughter of Sir Clement Higham of Barrow Suffolk flic.kr/p/ag3hJy by 2nd wife Anne Waldegrave Bures
Children
1. Clement 1607 www.flickr.com/gp/52219527@N00/fXKuk7 m1 1602 Anna dsp only daughter and heiress of Edmund Carvill / Kervyll of Wiggenhall ; m2 Ursula 1647 daughter of Sir John Willoughby of Risley 1602 by Frances daughter of Henry Hun
2. William dsp
He m2 Catherine 1608 daughter of William Saunders 1570 & Joan Marston Mynne Widow of Edmund Kervylle / Carvil of Sandringham & Calthorpes 1570 who m3 Sir Miles Corbet 1607 of Sprowston www.flickr.com/gp/52219527@N00/57594Z
Children
1. Robert
2. Francis
3. Bridget m Anthony Drury of Besthorpe 1628 - Church of All Saints, Narborough Norfolk
St Mary, Friston, Suffolk
Friston is a medium-sized village out in the rolling fields beyond Saxmundham and Leiston which seems to have an air of quiet self-sufficiency about it. In 2010 I had been here on the hottest day of the year so far, nearing the end of a meandering bicycle tour of the north and east of Suffolk. The train at Saxmundham was an hour off, but I headed south again, from the Saxmundham to Leiston road, under the vast chain of power lines that links the Sizewell nuclear power station with the rest of the country. I recalled vividly coming this way back at the start of the century, on that occasion a darkening afternoon in late November. I had cut a swathe along roads which ran like streams. All around was water, after the wettest autumn for 250 years. The power lines sizzled and cracked as I threaded through the pylons and beneath them, the sound of 10,000 quintillion volts of nuclear-generated electricity urgently seeking the shortest possible path to the ground. This concentrated my mind somewhat, as you may imagine.
And now it was 2019 I was here in spring, the trees coming into leaf like something almost being said, and it took me a moment to recognise the lane up to the church, in its huddle of houses with the curiously urban hall opposite.
It must be said that the tower of St Mary is rather striking. The tower seems to be a Victorian rebuild, and quite a late one. Mortlock generously considers that it is an exact copy of what was there before. In all honestly, I would find this doubtful, if it were not for the fact that the architect was Edward Bishopp, a man not best remembered for his creative imagination. The most striking features are the niches, one in each buttress, and a possible rood group above the west window. This is a bit like the same at Parham and Cotton, and the buttresses like those at Wetheringsett, so they may be original, or perhaps just based on those other churches. The body of the church must be Norman originally, judging by the blocked north door, but there are so many late Perpendicular windows, I wonder if it wasn't entirely rebuilt retaining the doorway sometime in the early 16th century.
As with all the churches around here St Mary is open daily, an evocative and intimate space which you step down into to be confronted by the Parish of Friston's most famous possession. This is the massive James I coat of arms. It is fully eight feet wide and six feet high, carved from boards six inches thick. The story goes that it was found in pieces in the belfry by Munro Cautley during his trawl of Suffolk churches in the 1930s. In his capacity as Diocesan architect, he insisted that the churchwardens repair it, and restore it to its rightful place. However, since the chancel tympanum where it had hung had been removed by the Victorians, this presented the churchwardens with an interesting problem. So, they solved it by attaching the arms to the north wall of the nave, level with the tops of the pews, where it remains. it is not in great condition, but it is rather extraordinary to be able to see it at such close quarters.
The nave is long and narrow, under an arch-braced roof. The 19th century font stands on an upturned medieval one as its pedestal, with a rather good early 20th century font cover. At the other end of the church is something rather remarkable, an unspoiled late Victorian chancel. So many of these have been whitewashed in the last fifty years or so, but this is utterly charming, the walls painted and stencilled in pastel shades, and an ornate text running around the top of the walls. The finishing touch is Powell & Son's lush Risen Christ flanked by Mary and John in the east window. Another nice detail is the Mothers Union banner. Thousands of these were embroidered from kit form in the early 20th Century, but as at neighbouring Knodishall the one here has been customised with a hand-painted central image of the Blessed Virgin and child.
A memorial board reminds the parishioners of Friston that In the Year of Our Lord one thousand eight hundred and eleven, the Reverend John Lambert bequeathed to the parish the sum of two hundred pounds, to be placed in the 3£ per cent consols, and the interest thereof to be distributed by the churchwardens every Christmas ___ for ever: to poor Housekeepers who should not for twelve months preceding have received Pay of the Parish. The word Day or Eve has been eradicated at some point, perhaps for legal reasons, possibly because of the difficulty of getting to the bank in Saxmundham on a public holiday.
Two hundred pounds was a fairly large amount of money in 1811, roughly equivalent to forty thousand pounds today, and for ever must have seemed an enticing prospect. However, consols were effectively bonds, their value remaining the same but offering a guaranteed return (in this case three per cent) based on the perceived annual growth in the economy. Like endowment mortgages, they would turn out to be a fairly short-sighted enthusiasm. The safe return from consols came to an end as a result of the great depression of the 1870s and 1880s, and inflation thereafter reduced such holdings to almost nothing. The Reverend Lambert would have been better off investing in land or gold, but such is the gift of hindsight, of course.
St Mary, Friston, Suffolk
Friston is a medium-sized village out in the rolling fields beyond Saxmundham and Leiston which seems to have an air of quiet self-sufficiency about it. In 2010 I had been here on the hottest day of the year so far, nearing the end of a meandering bicycle tour of the north and east of Suffolk. The train at Saxmundham was an hour off, but I headed south again, from the Saxmundham to Leiston road, under the vast chain of power lines that links the Sizewell nuclear power station with the rest of the country. I recalled vividly coming this way back at the start of the century, on that occasion a darkening afternoon in late November. I had cut a swathe along roads which ran like streams. All around was water, after the wettest autumn for 250 years. The power lines sizzled and cracked as I threaded through the pylons and beneath them, the sound of 10,000 quintillion volts of nuclear-generated electricity urgently seeking the shortest possible path to the ground. This concentrated my mind somewhat, as you may imagine.
And now it was 2019 I was here in spring, the trees coming into leaf like something almost being said, and it took me a moment to recognise the lane up to the church, in its huddle of houses with the curiously urban hall opposite.
It must be said that the tower of St Mary is rather striking. The tower seems to be a Victorian rebuild, and quite a late one. Mortlock generously considers that it is an exact copy of what was there before. In all honestly, I would find this doubtful, if it were not for the fact that the architect was Edward Bishopp, a man not best remembered for his creative imagination. The most striking features are the niches, one in each buttress, and a possible rood group above the west window. This is a bit like the same at Parham and Cotton, and the buttresses like those at Wetheringsett, so they may be original, or perhaps just based on those other churches. The body of the church must be Norman originally, judging by the blocked north door, but there are so many late Perpendicular windows, I wonder if it wasn't entirely rebuilt retaining the doorway sometime in the early 16th century.
As with all the churches around here St Mary is open daily, an evocative and intimate space which you step down into to be confronted by the Parish of Friston's most famous possession. This is the massive James I coat of arms. It is fully eight feet wide and six feet high, carved from boards six inches thick. The story goes that it was found in pieces in the belfry by Munro Cautley during his trawl of Suffolk churches in the 1930s. In his capacity as Diocesan architect, he insisted that the churchwardens repair it, and restore it to its rightful place. However, since the chancel tympanum where it had hung had been removed by the Victorians, this presented the churchwardens with an interesting problem. So, they solved it by attaching the arms to the north wall of the nave, level with the tops of the pews, where it remains. it is not in great condition, but it is rather extraordinary to be able to see it at such close quarters.
The nave is long and narrow, under an arch-braced roof. The 19th century font stands on an upturned medieval one as its pedestal, with a rather good early 20th century font cover. At the other end of the church is something rather remarkable, an unspoiled late Victorian chancel. So many of these have been whitewashed in the last fifty years or so, but this is utterly charming, the walls painted and stencilled in pastel shades, and an ornate text running around the top of the walls. The finishing touch is Powell & Son's lush Risen Christ flanked by Mary and John in the east window. Another nice detail is the Mothers Union banner. Thousands of these were embroidered from kit form in the early 20th Century, but as at neighbouring Knodishall the one here has been customised with a hand-painted central image of the Blessed Virgin and child.
A memorial board reminds the parishioners of Friston that In the Year of Our Lord one thousand eight hundred and eleven, the Reverend John Lambert bequeathed to the parish the sum of two hundred pounds, to be placed in the 3£ per cent consols, and the interest thereof to be distributed by the churchwardens every Christmas ___ for ever: to poor Housekeepers who should not for twelve months preceding have received Pay of the Parish. The word Day or Eve has been eradicated at some point, perhaps for legal reasons, possibly because of the difficulty of getting to the bank in Saxmundham on a public holiday.
Two hundred pounds was a fairly large amount of money in 1811, roughly equivalent to forty thousand pounds today, and for ever must have seemed an enticing prospect. However, consols were effectively bonds, their value remaining the same but offering a guaranteed return (in this case three per cent) based on the perceived annual growth in the economy. Like endowment mortgages, they would turn out to be a fairly short-sighted enthusiasm. The safe return from consols came to an end as a result of the great depression of the 1870s and 1880s, and inflation thereafter reduced such holdings to almost nothing. The Reverend Lambert would have been better off investing in land or gold, but such is the gift of hindsight, of course.
St Mary, Friston, Suffolk
Friston is a medium-sized village out in the rolling fields beyond Saxmundham and Leiston which seems to have an air of quiet self-sufficiency about it. In 2010 I had been here on the hottest day of the year so far, nearing the end of a meandering bicycle tour of the north and east of Suffolk. The train at Saxmundham was an hour off, but I headed south again, from the Saxmundham to Leiston road, under the vast chain of power lines that links the Sizewell nuclear power station with the rest of the country. I recalled vividly coming this way back at the start of the century, on that occasion a darkening afternoon in late November. I had cut a swathe along roads which ran like streams. All around was water, after the wettest autumn for 250 years. The power lines sizzled and cracked as I threaded through the pylons and beneath them, the sound of 10,000 quintillion volts of nuclear-generated electricity urgently seeking the shortest possible path to the ground. This concentrated my mind somewhat, as you may imagine.
And now it was 2019 I was here in spring, the trees coming into leaf like something almost being said, and it took me a moment to recognise the lane up to the church, in its huddle of houses with the curiously urban hall opposite.
It must be said that the tower of St Mary is rather striking. The tower seems to be a Victorian rebuild, and quite a late one. Mortlock generously considers that it is an exact copy of what was there before. In all honestly, I would find this doubtful, if it were not for the fact that the architect was Edward Bishopp, a man not best remembered for his creative imagination. The most striking features are the niches, one in each buttress, and a possible rood group above the west window. This is a bit like the same at Parham and Cotton, and the buttresses like those at Wetheringsett, so they may be original, or perhaps just based on those other churches. The body of the church must be Norman originally, judging by the blocked north door, but there are so many late Perpendicular windows, I wonder if it wasn't entirely rebuilt retaining the doorway sometime in the early 16th century.
As with all the churches around here St Mary is open daily, an evocative and intimate space which you step down into to be confronted by the Parish of Friston's most famous possession. This is the massive James I coat of arms. It is fully eight feet wide and six feet high, carved from boards six inches thick. The story goes that it was found in pieces in the belfry by Munro Cautley during his trawl of Suffolk churches in the 1930s. In his capacity as Diocesan architect, he insisted that the churchwardens repair it, and restore it to its rightful place. However, since the chancel tympanum where it had hung had been removed by the Victorians, this presented the churchwardens with an interesting problem. So, they solved it by attaching the arms to the north wall of the nave, level with the tops of the pews, where it remains. it is not in great condition, but it is rather extraordinary to be able to see it at such close quarters.
The nave is long and narrow, under an arch-braced roof. The 19th century font stands on an upturned medieval one as its pedestal, with a rather good early 20th century font cover. At the other end of the church is something rather remarkable, an unspoiled late Victorian chancel. So many of these have been whitewashed in the last fifty years or so, but this is utterly charming, the walls painted and stencilled in pastel shades, and an ornate text running around the top of the walls. The finishing touch is Powell & Son's lush Risen Christ flanked by Mary and John in the east window. Another nice detail is the Mothers Union banner. Thousands of these were embroidered from kit form in the early 20th Century, but as at neighbouring Knodishall the one here has been customised with a hand-painted central image of the Blessed Virgin and child.
A memorial board reminds the parishioners of Friston that In the Year of Our Lord one thousand eight hundred and eleven, the Reverend John Lambert bequeathed to the parish the sum of two hundred pounds, to be placed in the 3£ per cent consols, and the interest thereof to be distributed by the churchwardens every Christmas ___ for ever: to poor Housekeepers who should not for twelve months preceding have received Pay of the Parish. The word Day or Eve has been eradicated at some point, perhaps for legal reasons, possibly because of the difficulty of getting to the bank in Saxmundham on a public holiday.
Two hundred pounds was a fairly large amount of money in 1811, roughly equivalent to forty thousand pounds today, and for ever must have seemed an enticing prospect. However, consols were effectively bonds, their value remaining the same but offering a guaranteed return (in this case three per cent) based on the perceived annual growth in the economy. Like endowment mortgages, they would turn out to be a fairly short-sighted enthusiasm. The safe return from consols came to an end as a result of the great depression of the 1870s and 1880s, and inflation thereafter reduced such holdings to almost nothing. The Reverend Lambert would have been better off investing in land or gold, but such is the gift of hindsight, of course.
St Mary, Friston, Suffolk
Friston is a medium-sized village out in the rolling fields beyond Saxmundham and Leiston which seems to have an air of quiet self-sufficiency about it. In 2010 I had been here on the hottest day of the year so far, nearing the end of a meandering bicycle tour of the north and east of Suffolk. The train at Saxmundham was an hour off, but I headed south again, from the Saxmundham to Leiston road, under the vast chain of power lines that links the Sizewell nuclear power station with the rest of the country. I recalled vividly coming this way back at the start of the century, on that occasion a darkening afternoon in late November. I had cut a swathe along roads which ran like streams. All around was water, after the wettest autumn for 250 years. The power lines sizzled and cracked as I threaded through the pylons and beneath them, the sound of 10,000 quintillion volts of nuclear-generated electricity urgently seeking the shortest possible path to the ground. This concentrated my mind somewhat, as you may imagine.
And now it was 2019 I was here in spring, the trees coming into leaf like something almost being said, and it took me a moment to recognise the lane up to the church, in its huddle of houses with the curiously urban hall opposite.
It must be said that the tower of St Mary is rather striking. The tower seems to be a Victorian rebuild, and quite a late one. Mortlock generously considers that it is an exact copy of what was there before. In all honestly, I would find this doubtful, if it were not for the fact that the architect was Edward Bishopp, a man not best remembered for his creative imagination. The most striking features are the niches, one in each buttress, and a possible rood group above the west window. This is a bit like the same at Parham and Cotton, and the buttresses like those at Wetheringsett, so they may be original, or perhaps just based on those other churches. The body of the church must be Norman originally, judging by the blocked north door, but there are so many late Perpendicular windows, I wonder if it wasn't entirely rebuilt retaining the doorway sometime in the early 16th century.
As with all the churches around here St Mary is open daily, an evocative and intimate space which you step down into to be confronted by the Parish of Friston's most famous possession. This is the massive James I coat of arms. It is fully eight feet wide and six feet high, carved from boards six inches thick. The story goes that it was found in pieces in the belfry by Munro Cautley during his trawl of Suffolk churches in the 1930s. In his capacity as Diocesan architect, he insisted that the churchwardens repair it, and restore it to its rightful place. However, since the chancel tympanum where it had hung had been removed by the Victorians, this presented the churchwardens with an interesting problem. So, they solved it by attaching the arms to the north wall of the nave, level with the tops of the pews, where it remains. it is not in great condition, but it is rather extraordinary to be able to see it at such close quarters.
The nave is long and narrow, under an arch-braced roof. The 19th century font stands on an upturned medieval one as its pedestal, with a rather good early 20th century font cover. At the other end of the church is something rather remarkable, an unspoiled late Victorian chancel. So many of these have been whitewashed in the last fifty years or so, but this is utterly charming, the walls painted and stencilled in pastel shades, and an ornate text running around the top of the walls. The finishing touch is Powell & Son's lush Risen Christ flanked by Mary and John in the east window. Another nice detail is the Mothers Union banner. Thousands of these were embroidered from kit form in the early 20th Century, but as at neighbouring Knodishall the one here has been customised with a hand-painted central image of the Blessed Virgin and child.
A memorial board reminds the parishioners of Friston that In the Year of Our Lord one thousand eight hundred and eleven, the Reverend John Lambert bequeathed to the parish the sum of two hundred pounds, to be placed in the 3£ per cent consols, and the interest thereof to be distributed by the churchwardens every Christmas ___ for ever: to poor Housekeepers who should not for twelve months preceding have received Pay of the Parish. The word Day or Eve has been eradicated at some point, perhaps for legal reasons, possibly because of the difficulty of getting to the bank in Saxmundham on a public holiday.
Two hundred pounds was a fairly large amount of money in 1811, roughly equivalent to forty thousand pounds today, and for ever must have seemed an enticing prospect. However, consols were effectively bonds, their value remaining the same but offering a guaranteed return (in this case three per cent) based on the perceived annual growth in the economy. Like endowment mortgages, they would turn out to be a fairly short-sighted enthusiasm. The safe return from consols came to an end as a result of the great depression of the 1870s and 1880s, and inflation thereafter reduced such holdings to almost nothing. The Reverend Lambert would have been better off investing in land or gold, but such is the gift of hindsight, of course.
The cover of a 16-page Milton Keynes Knights speedway programme issued, during the 1988 season, the club's last at this venue, for a National League fixture against Middlesbrough Tigers.
Speedway was staged at Milton Keynes Stadium (or Groveway), in the Ashland district of the new town, between 1978 and 1988. The venue opened for greyhound racing in 1963. Milton Keynes Stadium, which also hosted stock car racing, closed in 2005. After a fire, it was demolished. Since 2014, a housing estate - specifically a road, Wetheringsett - has occupied the site.
All Saints, Wetheringsett, Suffolk
A grand late medieval church in a quiet village not far from the A140. The Perpendicular windows and the walls of glass of the clerestory fill it full of light.
A quiet moment between trains at Brockford & Wetheringsett Station on the Mid Suffolk Light Railway.
St Mary, Friston, Suffolk
Friston is a medium-sized village out in the rolling fields beyond Saxmundham and Leiston which seems to have an air of quiet self-sufficiency about it. In 2010 I had been here on the hottest day of the year so far, nearing the end of a meandering bicycle tour of the north and east of Suffolk. The train at Saxmundham was an hour off, but I headed south again, from the Saxmundham to Leiston road, under the vast chain of power lines that links the Sizewell nuclear power station with the rest of the country. I recalled vividly coming this way back at the start of the century, on that occasion a darkening afternoon in late November. I had cut a swathe along roads which ran like streams. All around was water, after the wettest autumn for 250 years. The power lines sizzled and cracked as I threaded through the pylons and beneath them, the sound of 10,000 quintillion volts of nuclear-generated electricity urgently seeking the shortest possible path to the ground. This concentrated my mind somewhat, as you may imagine.
And now it was 2019 I was here in spring, the trees coming into leaf like something almost being said, and it took me a moment to recognise the lane up to the church, in its huddle of houses with the curiously urban hall opposite.
It must be said that the tower of St Mary is rather striking. The tower seems to be a Victorian rebuild, and quite a late one. Mortlock generously considers that it is an exact copy of what was there before. In all honestly, I would find this doubtful, if it were not for the fact that the architect was Edward Bishopp, a man not best remembered for his creative imagination. The most striking features are the niches, one in each buttress, and a possible rood group above the west window. This is a bit like the same at Parham and Cotton, and the buttresses like those at Wetheringsett, so they may be original, or perhaps just based on those other churches. The body of the church must be Norman originally, judging by the blocked north door, but there are so many late Perpendicular windows, I wonder if it wasn't entirely rebuilt retaining the doorway sometime in the early 16th century.
As with all the churches around here St Mary is open daily, an evocative and intimate space which you step down into to be confronted by the Parish of Friston's most famous possession. This is the massive James I coat of arms. It is fully eight feet wide and six feet high, carved from boards six inches thick. The story goes that it was found in pieces in the belfry by Munro Cautley during his trawl of Suffolk churches in the 1930s. In his capacity as Diocesan architect, he insisted that the churchwardens repair it, and restore it to its rightful place. However, since the chancel tympanum where it had hung had been removed by the Victorians, this presented the churchwardens with an interesting problem. So, they solved it by attaching the arms to the north wall of the nave, level with the tops of the pews, where it remains. it is not in great condition, but it is rather extraordinary to be able to see it at such close quarters.
The nave is long and narrow, under an arch-braced roof. The 19th century font stands on an upturned medieval one as its pedestal, with a rather good early 20th century font cover. At the other end of the church is something rather remarkable, an unspoiled late Victorian chancel. So many of these have been whitewashed in the last fifty years or so, but this is utterly charming, the walls painted and stencilled in pastel shades, and an ornate text running around the top of the walls. The finishing touch is Powell & Son's lush Risen Christ flanked by Mary and John in the east window. Another nice detail is the Mothers Union banner. Thousands of these were embroidered from kit form in the early 20th Century, but as at neighbouring Knodishall the one here has been customised with a hand-painted central image of the Blessed Virgin and child.
A memorial board reminds the parishioners of Friston that In the Year of Our Lord one thousand eight hundred and eleven, the Reverend John Lambert bequeathed to the parish the sum of two hundred pounds, to be placed in the 3£ per cent consols, and the interest thereof to be distributed by the churchwardens every Christmas ___ for ever: to poor Housekeepers who should not for twelve months preceding have received Pay of the Parish. The word Day or Eve has been eradicated at some point, perhaps for legal reasons, possibly because of the difficulty of getting to the bank in Saxmundham on a public holiday.
Two hundred pounds was a fairly large amount of money in 1811, roughly equivalent to forty thousand pounds today, and for ever must have seemed an enticing prospect. However, consols were effectively bonds, their value remaining the same but offering a guaranteed return (in this case three per cent) based on the perceived annual growth in the economy. Like endowment mortgages, they would turn out to be a fairly short-sighted enthusiasm. The safe return from consols came to an end as a result of the great depression of the 1870s and 1880s, and inflation thereafter reduced such holdings to almost nothing. The Reverend Lambert would have been better off investing in land or gold, but such is the gift of hindsight, of course.
Here lies the body of Joan Braham widowe dedicated to God, late wife to John Braham armiger who died the 18th day of November AD 1519 on whose soul may God have mercy Amen"
Joan Reyden was the wife of John Braham of Wetheringsett and mother of Margaret d1561 www.flickr.com/gp/52219527@N00/4M48ZE 2nd wife of Sir Thomas Blennerhassett 1531 www.flickr.com/gp/52219527@N00/44z573
Heraldry - Braham / Braham impaling Reyden / Reyden
Detail - coat of arms - Spelman quartering with Narborough
"Here lyeth the body of John Spelman esquier, who fyrst had to wyfe Judyth one of the daughters of Syr Clement Higham knight, and after Katherine ye daughter of William Saunders esqyer .
John had at the day of his death 4 sons and one daughter lyving viz Clement and William of the body of the said Judyth. & Robert , Francys and Bridget of ye bodye of ye sayd Katherine. John deceased ye 27th day of Aprell Ao 1581 "
www.flickr.com/gp/52219527@N00/qbE6ri
(John Spelman of Narburgh 1581 was the son of John Spelman 1545 www.flickr.com/gp/52219527@N00/17Mv1W & Margaret 1558 daughter of Sir Thomas Blennerhassett of Frenze 1531 flic.kr/p/rp8dxz & Margaret d1561 flic.kr/p/qsrvxx daughter of John Braham of Wetheringsett and Joan Reyden 1519 www.flickr.com/gp/52219527@N00/4M48ZE
He m1 Judith 1570 daughter of Sir Clement Higham of Barrow Suffolk flic.kr/p/ag3hJy by 2nd wife Anne Waldegrave Bures
- Church of All Saints, Narborough Norfolk