View allAll Photos Tagged What is the work of the Holy Spirit
There is a point in our lives when we, the children, become the adults in the relationship with our parents.
It will come for most of us, no one tells you this will happen, and you are unprepared for it. But it comes
And each of us has a different relationship with our parents than everyone else, what's right for me, and my views, do not apply to you.
Yesterday, was the funeral of the person I have known longer than anyone else on this earth, now that my family is all gone. Margaret and Brian were married a few weeks before mine, and moved into the new build bungalow also a few weeks before my parents.
They also had one child, a son, and Douglas and I have been friends longer than I have been friends with anyone else, although he is a year younger than me.
I have my views on Margaret, but the reason I travelled back to Suffolk for her funeral, was to be there for Douggie, and give him the support he has given me through three weddings and two funerals.
Norfolk isn't far away, and the funeral and wake were taking place just a mile or two over the border from Suffolk, but the roads beyond Ipswich are poor, twisty and where there are accidents or roadworks, no real alternative routes.
I was also leaving just before six, so had to get across the Thames at Dartford and up the A12 during rush hour, so it wouldn't be easy. But at least there would be no rain.
I was up at five, dressed and washed, with time to drink a coffee before leaving. Loading the car with me and my camera bag, as I had plans in case I had time, to visit a church or two.
It was dark up the M20 to Dartford, and busy with traffic, but I made good time, and listened to a loop of old music podcasts all day, so chat and music kept me awake.
I got onto the M25 with no problem, and through the tunnels with only a slight slowdown, but on the other side there were queues.
Despite not wanting to spend money on a new railway, there is always money for road and junction improvements, even if it will just increase traffic. So it is that the M25/A12 junction is being upgraded, and with narrow lanes, speed restrictions, jams began a good four miles before the roadworks started.
I forced my way to the left hand lane, which became a filter lane, meaning it was much quicker than the remaining four lanes. But then came the roundabout. The roundabout under the motorway is the reason the improvements are needed, and queueing traffic blocks the junctions and causes even more backlogs.
Of course, traffic lights on roundabouts are never good ideas, so I was confronted with a wall of traffic, so when the light went green, I went in front of a track before it could shuffle forward and block more of the junction, then there was some clear road.
And ducking into the extreme left hand lane, I dodged past the queuing traffic that was blocking the exit from the A12, and onto clear road.
Yay.
The sky was clear, the sun about to rise, and it was going to be a glorious day.
Just north of Chelmsford, I stopped for breakfast: two sausage rolls and a coffee from Greggs, then filled up the tank and on my way north.
More traffic at Ipswich where the A12 meets the A14 to get over the Orwell, but then clear traffic again after ten minutes delay.
Soon, though, the road narrows to two lane blacktop, and all is well until you meet a slower vehicle. Like a tractor as we did soon after Whickham Market.
For 15 long minutes the tractor lead a growing snake of cars along the winding lanes until it pulled over and we could get past.
Blythburgh was always the marker when travelling back from Ipswich or beyond, that we were nearly home. he handsome church sits high, for Suffolk, overlooking the village and river which is mostly mudflats.
The busy A12 skirts close, but you get to the church via a narrow land, leaving the modern world far behind.
The church opened at nine, it was nearly half past, it was probably open before nine, and was open when I pushed the porch door.
Inside is an unspoilt space, grey wood that have witnessed the centuries so that their vigour has faded to almost no colour of all.
Its the roof people come for. Wooden beams and pairs of wooden angels. I have brought my big lens so to snap them.
My plan was to visit the large and impressive church in Southwold. I turned off the A12 and drove along the straight road into the town, where I found multiple sets of roadworks, and few places to park for a short time, anywhere near the church.
My back is achy, so I wanted somewhere close to park. Anyway, I drove round the town twice, found nowhere to park, so turned the car round and headed back north, until I came to South Cove.
South Cove is a small village, a few farms really, but has a fine, if rustic, well-proportioned church, set in a large churchyard.
And the church was open, so small the wide angle lens wasn't needed, and with windows close to the floor too, no big lens needed either.
Next town up is Kessingland, which until the 80s had the A12 running through the centre of it, but now a bypass lays to the west and the village is quiet. I don't think I had been of the main street, so I went in search of the church, and found it on Church Street.
Obviously.
I rarely research churches before I visit, so nothing prepared me for the interior of St Edmund.
It seems in the last two years, they church had sourced some banners with apt slogans on, banners which were made to look like large tapered ensigns, hanging from or along the supports of the roof.
A man was practicing on the organ, and the notes echoed round the church. Not only does the church have banners, it has ship's wheels and other nautical stuff, although most traditionalists won't like it, I think it hangs together, and if the congregation wants it thus, who are we to argue?
Next stop was South Cove, which I had forgotten I had visited before, so redid all my shots. But this time did see the panel featuring St Michael behind the font, where the rood steps began.
A small, perfect, church, perfect for a small country parish.
I take my shots and leave, driving back onto the A12 and heading into Lowestoft, my main task was to drive over the new bridge which spans Lake Lothing.
The town had been waiting since at least 1966 for a new bridge, and the 3rd crossing was opened in September, and offers fine views as you drive across.
I went to see the old family home. It has been renovated and looks splendid, and not much like it was when sold four years back, it looks cared for and lived in, which is what the buyer promised us he would do.
So then to the crematorium, a drive north through Gunton and past Hopton where Dougie lives, then through the housing estate behind the area hospital to the car park, and then wait.
Margaret was 89, had a long life, but friends of the same age are few, and families are now scattered. So, one can never be sure how many will attend. The chapel was half full at least, with people coming from Kent, Wiltshire and even California to be there.
The celebrant spoke for twenty minutes, saying nice things as they have to do. But, avoiding, or just hinting at faults. Whatever she had done in her life to Dougie, he still loved her, and he was in bits.
Afterward we lined up to shake his hand or give him and Pennie a hug, and allowed me to tell him he was the brother I never had. He was always there for me, and will be there for him.
More tears.
There was a wake at the pub in Hopton, but there was no one I knew other than Dougie and Penny, so I had a drink and made my excuses. These things are really for family and close friends, so I left at quarter to three, hoping to get home before midnight.
In the end, I made good time, I was going round Ipswich before four, and at the M25 junction less than an hour later, and was able to easily join it and zoom round to the bridge. No queues on the southbound side, but the queue northbound went all the way back to the M20 junction, so six mines.
I zoomed on.
I got home at ten past six, happy to have done it and go home in under three and a half hours. Dinner was defrosted ragu, pasta and reheated focaccia, which we were sitting down to eat twenty minutes after getting in.
Phew.
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Perhaps some counties have a church which sums them up. If there has to be one for Suffolk, it must be the church of the Most Holy Trinity, Blythburgh. Here is the late medieval Suffolk imagination writ large, as large as it gets, and not overwritten by the Anglican triumphalism of the 19th century. Blythburgh church is often compared with its near neighbour, St Edmund at Southwold, but this isn't a fair comparison - Southwold church is much grander, and full of urban confidence. Probably a better comparison is with St Margaret, Lowestoft, for there, too, the Reformation intervened before the tower could be rebuilt. The two churches have a lot in common, but Blythburgh has the saving grace. It is so fascinating, so stunningly beautiful, by virtue of a factor that is rare in Anglican parish churches: sheer neglect.
Holy Trinity, Blythburgh, is the church that Suffolk people know and love best, and because of this it has generated some extraordinary legends. The first is that Blythburgh, now a tiny village bisected by the fearsome A12 between London and the east coast ports, was once a thriving medieval town. This idea is used to explain the size of the church; in reality, it is almost certainly not the case. Blythburgh has always been small. But it did have an important medieval priory, and thus its church attracted enough wealthy piety on the eve of the Reformation to bankroll a spectacular rebuilding.
It is to Lavenham, Long Melford, Mildenhall, Southwold and here that we come to see the late 15th century Suffolk aesthetic in perfection. But for my money, Holy Trinity, Blythburgh, is the most significant medieval art object in the county, ranking alongside Salle in Norfolk. Look up at the clerestory; it seems impossible, there is so much glass, so little stone; and yet it rides the building with an air of permanence. Beneath, there is a coyness about the aisles that I prefer to the mathematics of Lavenham. Here, it could not have been done otherwise; it distils human architectural experience. If St Peter and St Paul at Lavenham is man talking to God, Holy Trinity at Blythburgh is God talking to man.
At the east end, a curious series of initials in Lombardic script stretch across the outer chancel wall. You can see an image of this at the top. It reads A-N-JS-B-S-T-M-S-A-H-K-R. This probably stands for Ad Nomina JesuS, Beati Sanctae Trinitas, Maria Sanctorem Anne Honorem Katherine Reconstructus ('In the name of the blessed Jesus, the Holy Trinity, and in honour of Holy Mary, Anne and Katherine, this was rebuilt'). A fanciful theory is that they are the initials of the wives of the donors. However, note the symbol of the Trinity in the T stone, and I think this is a clue to the whole piece.
Figures stand on pedestals atop the south side and east end. The most easterly is unusual, a crowned old man sitting on a throne directly on the gable end. This is a medieval image of God the Father, a rare survival. Moving westwards from here we find the Blessed Virgin in prayerful pose, Christ as the Saviour of the World holding an orb in one hand and blessing with the other, and then a collared bear with a ragged staff, a seated woodwose, another bear, this time with a collar and bell, and last of all a fox with a goose in its mouth, his jaws grasping the neck:
The porch is part of the late 15th century rebuilding, but it was considerably restored in the early 20th century. Interestingly, the angels crowning the battlements look medieval - but they weren't there in 1900, so must have come from somewhere else. Pretty much all the porch's features of interest date from this time. These include the small medieval font pressed into service as a holy water stoup, and image niche above the doors. This has been filled in more recent years by an image if the Holy Trinity; God the Father holds the Son suspended while a dove representing the Holy Spirit alights; you can see medieval versions of this at Framlingham and Little Glemham. Of all medieval imagery, this was the most frowned upon by puritans. An image of God the Father was thought the most suspicious of all idolatries. Indeed, as late as the 1870s, when the Reverend White edited the first popular edition of the Diary of William Dowsing, he actually congratulated Dowsing on destroying images of the Holy Trinity in the course of his 1644 progress through the counties of Suffolk and Cambridgeshire.
William Dowsing visited on the morning on April 9th, 1644. It was a Tuesday, and he had spent most of the week in the area. The previous day he'd been at Southwold and Walberswick to the east, but preceded his visit here with one to Blyford, which lies to the west, so he was probably staying overnight at the family home in Laxfield. He found twenty images in stained glass to take to task (a surprisingly small number, given the size of the place) and two hundred more that were inaccessible that morning (probably in the great east window). Three brass inscriptions incurred his wrath (but again, this is curious; there were many more) and he also ordered down the cross on the porch and the cross on the tower. Most significantly of all, he decided the angels in the roof should go.
Lots of Suffolk churches have angels in their roofs. None are like Blythburgh's. You step inside, and there they are, exactly as you've seen them in books and in photographs. They are awesome, breathtaking. There are twelve of them. Perhaps there were once twenty. How would you get them down if ordered to do so? The roof is so high, and the stencilling of IHS symbols would also have to go.
Perhaps this was already indistinct by the time Dowsing visited. Perhaps Tuesday, 9th of April 1644 was a dull day.
Several of the angels are peppered with lead shot. Here is another of those Suffolk legends; that Dowsing and the churchwardens fired muskets at the angels to try and bring them down. But when the angels were restored in the 1970s, the lead shot removed was found to be 18th century; contemporary with them there is a note in the churchwardens accounts that men were paid for shooting jackdaws living inside the building, so that probably explains where the shot came from. Here are some details of that wonderful roof:
The otherwise splendid church guide also repeats the error that the Holy Trinity symbol in the porch filled a gap that had been 'empty since 1644'. But there was certainly no image in it when Dowsing arrived here, or anywhere else in Suffolk; statues were completely outlawed by injunctions in the early years of the reign of Edward VI, almost a hundred years before the morning of Dowsing's visit.
Another feature used as evidence of puritan destruction is the ring fixed into the most westerly pillar of the north arcade. Cromwell's men stabled their horses here, apparently. Well, it almost certainly is a ring for tying horses to, and the broken bricks at the cleared west end also suggest this; but there is no reason to think that Cromwell and the puritans were responsible. For a full century before Cromwell, and for nearly two hundred years afterwards, a church as big as this would have had a multitude of uses. Holy Trinity was built for the rituals of the Catholic church; once these were no longer allowed, a village like Blythburgh, which can never have had more than 500 people, would have seen it as an asset in other ways. It was only with the 19th century sacramental revival brought about by the Oxford Movement that we started getting all holy again about our parish churches. Perhaps it was used as an overnight stables for passing travellers on the main road; not an un-Christian use for it to be put to, I think.
In August 1577, a great storm brought down the steeple, which fell into the church and damaged the font. This was at the height of Elizabethan superstition, and the devil was blamed; his hoof marks can still be seen on the church door. Supposedly, a black dog ran through the church, killing two parishioners; he was seen the same day at St Mary, Bungay. Black Shuck is the East Anglian devil dog, the feared hound of the marshes; and Holy Trinity is the self-styled Cathedral of the Marshes, so it is appropriate that he appeared here. You can see where the font has been broken. You can also see that this was one of the rare, beautiful seven sacrament fonts, similar in style to the one at Westhall; but, like those at neighbouring Wenhaston and Southwold, it has been completely stripped of imagery. Almost certainly, this was in the 1540s, but there is a story that the font at Wenhaston was chiselled clean as part of the 19th century restoration. More importantly in any case, the storm, or the dog, or the devil, damaged the roof; it would not be properly repaired for more than 400 years. Throughout the 17th and 18th centuries, accounts note that Holy Trinity is not impregnable to the weather. By the 19th century, parishioners attended divine service with umbrellas. By the 1880s, it was a positively dangerous building to be in, and the Bishop of Norwich ordered it closed.
Why had Holy Trinity not been restored? Simply, this is a big church, with a tiny village. There was no rich patron, and in any case the parishioners had a passion for Methodism. Probably, repairs had been mooted, but not a wholesale restoration as we have seen at Lavenham, Long Melford and Southwold. By the 1880s, attention in England had turned to the preservation of medieval detail; in short, restorations were not as ignorant as they had been a quarter of a century earlier. Suggestions that Holy Trinity should be restored in the manner of the other three were blocked by the Society for the Preservation of Ancient Buildings, and this owed a lot to the energy of William Morris, the Society's secretary.
The slow, patient restoration of this building took the best part of a century; indeed, when I first visited in the 1980s I was still aware of a sense of decay.
Nothing could be further from the truth today. You step into a wide, white, open space, one of England's great church interiors. There, high above you, is the glorious roof and the angels of God. The brick floors spread around the scraped font, which still bears its dedicatory inscription and standing places for participants. You turn into the central gangway, and more than twenty empty indents for brasses stretch before you. Dowsing can be blamed for the destruction of hardly any of them. In reality, you see the work of 18th and 19th century thieves and collectors.
The bench-ends are superb. The benches themselves were reconstructed in the late 19th century, supposedly from the main post of Westleton windmill, but the ends are some of the county's finest medieval images. There are partial sets of basically three series: the Seven Deadly Sins, the Seven Works of Mercy, and the Labours of the Seasons. There are also angels bearing symbols of the Holy Trinity and the Crown. There are other figures too, obscure and fragmentary and whose purpose is unclear, as if surviving figments of a broken dream. The quality of what remains makes you grieve for what has been lost.
The rood screen is a disappointment; most of it is modern, and the medieval bits perfunctory and scoured. Having said this, note how tiny the exit from the north aisle rood loft stair is. Also at this end of the church, a scattering of medieval glass, mainly angels. There is more in the south aisle, including a collection of shields of the Holy Trinity:
But step through the central aisle to see something remarkable. The priest and choir stalls are fronted by exquisite carvings of the Apostles, the Evangelists, John the Baptist, St Stephen, Mary Queen of Heaven and Christ in Majesty. Seeing these eighteen carvings is a bit like gobbling up a very large box of chocolates, but it is worth stopping to consider quite how genuine they all are. For a start, there could not have been choir stalls here in medieval times, and in any case we know that these desks and their frontages were in the north aisle chapel until the 19th century. They were used as school benches in the 17th century; they still bear holes for inkpots, and the graffiti of a bored Dutch child (his father was probably working on draining the marshes) is dated 1665. There is nothing at all like them anywhere else in Suffolk.
Whatever, the east end of the chancel and aisles are thrillingly modern, wholly devotional. In the north aisle, traditionally the Hopton chantry, extraordinary friezes of skeletons become symbols of the four evangelists behind the altar. Beside them is Peter Ball's beautiful Madonna and Child. Separating the south aisle chapel from the sanctuary is is one of Suffolk's biggest Easter sepulchres, tomb of the Hoptons. Behind the high altar, branches arranged like huge stag antlers spread dramatically. It is all just about perfect. Tucked to one side of the organ is a clockjack; Suffolk has two, and the other is down-river at Southwold. They date from the late 17th century, and presumably once struck the hours; at high church Blythburgh and Southwold today, they are used to announce the entry of the ministers.
This is a wonderful church to wander around in, the light and the air changing with the seasons, a suffused sense of the numinous presenting its different faces according to the time of day and time of year. Come here on a bright spring morning, or in the drowsy heat of a summer's day. Come on a cold winter afternoon as the colours fade and the smell of woodsmoke from neighbouring cottages weaves a spell above the old stone floors and woodwork. And before you leave, find the doorway in the south-west corner of the nave. It opens onto a low, narrow stairway. You can go up it. It leads up into the parvise storey of the south porch, now reappointed and dedicated as a tiny chapel, a peaceful spot to spend a few moments before continuing your journey.
You may be reading this entry in a far-off land; or perhaps you are here at home. Whatever, if you have not visited this church, then I urge you to do so. It is the most beautiful church in Suffolk, a wonderful art object, and it is always open in daylight. It remains one of the most significant medieval buildings in England. If you only visit one of Suffolk's churches, then make it this one
Simon Knott, 2014.
www.holyspiritspeaks.org/on-quieting-your-heart-before-go...
Pondering the words of God and praying over the words of God at the same time as eating and drinking the actual words of God—this is the first step to being at peace before God. If you can be truly at peace before God, then the enlightenment and illumination of the Holy Spirit will be with you.
All spiritual life is achieved by relying on being quiet before God. In praying you must be quiet before God before you can be moved by the Holy Spirit. By being quiet before God when you eat and drink God’s words you can be enlightened and illuminated and be able to achieve truly understanding God’s words. In your usual meditation and fellowship, and when you are drawing close to God with your heart, only when you are quiet before God can you have genuine closeness to God, genuine understanding of God’s love and God’s work, and true thoughtfulness toward God’s intentions. The more you are usually able to be quiet before God the more you can be illuminated, and the more you are able to understand your own corrupt disposition, what you lack, what you should enter, what function you should serve, and where you have defects. All these are achieved by relying on being quiet before God. If you truly reach some depth in being quiet before God, you can touch some mysteries in the spirit, touch on what God at present wants to do on you, touch on deeper understanding of God’s words, and touch on the essence of God’s words, on the substance of God’s words, on the being of God’s words, and you can see the path of practice more thoroughly and more accurately. If you cannot be quiet in your spirit to a certain depth, you will just be somewhat moved by the Holy Spirit, inside you will feel strength, and some enjoyment and peace, but you will not touch anything deeper. I have said before, if one does not use all their strength, it will be difficult for them to hear My voice or see My face. This refers to achieving depth in being quiet before God, not to external effort. A person who can truly be quiet before God is able to free themselves from all worldly ties and can achieve being occupied by God. All people who are unable to be quiet before God are assuredly dissolute and unrestrained. All who are able to be quiet before God are people who are pious before God, people who yearn for God. It is only people who are quiet before God who pay attention to life, pay attention to fellowship in spirit, who thirst for God’s words, and who pursue the truth. All those who pay no attention to being quiet before God, who do not practice being quiet before God are vain people who are completely attached to the world, who are without life; even if they say they believe in God they are just paying lip-service. Those God ultimately perfects and completes are people who can be quiet before God. Therefore, people who are quiet before God are people graced with great blessings. People who during the day take little time to eat and drink God’s words, who are completely preoccupied with external affairs, and do not pay attention to life entry are all hypocrites with no prospect of developing in the future. It is those who can be quiet before God and genuinely commune with God who are God’s people.
from "On Quieting Your Heart Before God"
All Saints, Gazeley, Suffolk.
There was never any doubt I would go to Rob's funeral. Rob was born just two weeks before me, and in our many meetings, we found we had so much in common.
A drive to Ipswich should be something like only two and a half hours, but with the Dartford Crossing that could balloon to four or more.
My choice was to leave early, soon after Jools left for work, or wait to near nine once rush hour was over. If I was up early, I'd leave early, I said.
Which is what happened.
So, after coffee and Jools leaving, I loaded my camera stuff in the car, not bothering to program in a destination, as I knew the route to Suffolk so well.
Checking the internet I found the M2 was closed, so that meant taking the M20, which I like as it runs beside HS2, although over the years, vegetation growth now hides most of it, and with Eurostar cutting services due to Brexit, you're lucky to see a train on the line now.
I had a phone loaded with podcasts, so time flew by, even if travelling through the endless roadworks at 50mph seemed to take forever.
Dartford was jammed. But we inched forward, until as the bridge came in sight, traffic moved smoothly, and I followed the traffic down into the east bore of the tunnel.
Another glorious morning for travel, the sun shone from a clear blue sky, even if traffic was heavy, but I had time, so not pressing on like I usually do, making the drive a pleasant one.
Up through Essex, where most other traffic turned off at Stanstead, then up to the A11 junction, with it being not yet nine, I had several hours to fill before the ceremony.
I stopped at Cambridge services for breakfast, then programmed the first church in: Gazeley, which is just in Suffolk on the border with Cambridgeshire.
I took the next junction off, took two further turnings brought be to the village, which is divided by one of the widest village streets I have ever seen.
It was five past nine: would the church be open?
I parked on the opposite side of the road, grabbed my bag and camera, limped over, passing a warden putting new notices in the parish notice board. We exchange good mornings, and I walk to the porch.
The inner door was unlocked, and the heavy door swung after turning the metal ring handle.
I had made a list of four churches from Simon's list of the top 60 Suffolk churches, picking those on or near my route to Ipswich and which piqued my interest.
Here, it was the reset mediaeval glass.
Needless to say, I had the church to myself, the centuries hanging heavy inside as sunlight flooded in filling the Chancel with warm golden light.
Windows had several devotional dials carved in the surrounding stone, and a huge and "stunningly beautiful piscina, and beside it are sedilia that end in an arm rest carved in the shape of a beast" which caught my eye.
A display in the Chancel was of the decoration of the wooden roof above where panels contained carved beasts, some actual and some mythical.
I photographed them all.
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All Saints is a large, remarkably good church in one of the sleepy, fat villages along the Cambridgeshire border, the sort of place you cycle through and imagine wistfully that you've won the lottery and could move there. The wide churchyard on both sides is a perfect setting for the church, which rises to heaven out of a perpendicular splendour of aisles, clerestories and battlements. The tower was complete by the 1470s when money was being left for a bell. The earlier chancel steadies the ship, anchoring it to earth quietly, although the tall east window has its spectacular moment too. And you step into a deliciously well-kept interior, full of interest.
One of the most significant medieval survivals here is not easily noticed. This is the range of 15th Century glass, which was reset by the Victorians high in the clerestory. This seems a curious thing to have done, since it defeats the purpose of a clerestory, but if they had not done so then we might have lost it. The glass matches the tracery in the north aisle windows, so that is probably where they came from. There are angels, three Saints and some shields, most of which are heraldic but two show the instruments of the passion and the Holy Trinity. I would not be surprised to learn that some of the shields are 19th century, but the figures are all original late 15th or early 16th century. The Saints are an unidentified Bishop, the hacksaw-wielding St Faith and one of my favourites, St Apollonia. She it was who was invoked by medieval people against toothache.
Waling from the nave up into the chancel, the space created by the clearing of clutter makes it at once mysterious and beautiful. Above, the early 16th century waggon roof is Suffolk's best of its kind. Mortlock points out the little angels bearing scrolls, the wheat ears and the vine sprays, and the surviving traces of colour. The low side window on the south side still has its hinges, for here it was that updraught to the rood would have sent the candles flickering in the mystical church of the 14th century. On the south side of the sanctuary is an exquisitely carved arched recess, that doesn't appear to have ever had a door, and may have been a very rare purpose-built Easter sepulchre at the time of the 1330s rebuilding. Opposite is a huge and stunningly beautiful piscina, and beside it are sedilia that end in an arm rest carved in the shape of a beast. It is one of the most significant Decorated moments in Suffolk.
On the floor of the chancel there is a tiny, perfect chalice brass, one of only two surviving in Suffolk. The other is at Rendham. Not far away is the indent of another chalice brass - or perhaps it was for the same one, and the brass has been moved for some reason. There are two chalice indents at Westhall, but nowhere else in Suffolk. Chalice brasses were popular memorials for Priests in the 15th and early 16th centuries, and thus were fair game for reformers. Heigham memorials of the late 16th century are on the walls. Back in the south aisle there is a splendid tombchest in Purbeck marble. It has lost its brasses, but the indents show us where they were, as do other indents in the aisle floors. Some heraldic brass shields survive, and show that Heighams were buried here. Brass inscriptions survive in the nave and the chancel, dating from the late 16th and early 17th centuries.
The 14th century font is a good example of the tracery pattern series that appeared in the decades before the Black Death. They may have been intended to spread ideas at that time of great artistic and intellectual flowering before it was so cruelly snatched away. The cover is 17th Century. At this end of the nave are two good ranges of medieval benches, one, rare in East Anglia, is a group of 14th Century benches with pierced tracery backs. Some of them appear to spell out words, and Mortlock thought one might say Salaman Sayet. The block of benches to the north appears to be 15th Century or possibly early 16th Century. Further north, the early 17th Century benches are simpler, even cruder, and were likely the work of the village carpenter.
All rather lovely then. And yet, it hasn't always been that way. All Saints at Gazeley, near Newmarket, was the first church that I visited after an international team of scientists conclusively proved that God did not exist began the first page for this church that I wrote in 2003, in a satirical mood after finding the church locked and at a very low ebb. At a time when congregations were generally falling, I'd been thinking about the future of medieval churches beyond a time when they would have people to use them in the traditional way. I wondered if the buildings might find new uses, or could adapt themselves to changing patterns and emphases in Christianity, or even changing spiritual needs of their parishes. Even if science could somehow prove that God did not exist, I suggested, there were parishes which would rise to the challenge and reinvent themselves, as churches have always done over the two millennia of Christianity. Coming to Gazeley I felt that here was a church which felt as if it had been abandoned. And yet, it seemed to me a church of such significance, such historical and spiritual importance, that its loss would be a disaster. If it had been clean, tidy and open at the time he was visiting, Simon Jenkins England's Thousand Best Churches would not have been able to resist it. Should the survival of such a treasure store depend upon the existence of God or the continued practice of the Christian faith? Or might there be other reasons to keep this extraordinary building in something like its present integrity?
In the first decade of the 21st Century, Gazeley church went on a tremendous journey, from being moribund to being the wonderful church you can visit today. If you want to read the slightly adapted 2006 entry for Gazeley, recounting this journey, you can do so here. Coming back here today always fills me with optimism for what can be achieved. On one occasion I mentioned my experiences of Gazeley church to a Catholic Priest friend of mine, and he said he hoped I knew I'd seen the power of the Holy Spirit at work. And perhaps that is so. Certainly, the energy and imagination of the people here have been fired by something. On that occasion I had wanted to find someone to ask about it, to find out how things stood now. But there was no one, and so the building spoke for them.
Back outside in the graveyard, the dog daisies clustered and waved their sun-kissed faces in the light breeze. The ancient building must have known many late-May days like this over the centuries, but think of all the changes that it has known inside! The general buffeting of the winds of history still leaves room for local squalls and lightning strikes. All Saints has known these, but for now a blessed calm reigns here. Long may it remain so.
Simon Knott, June 2019
All Saints, Gazeley, Suffolk.
There was never any doubt I would go to Rob's funeral. Rob was born just two weeks before me, and in our many meetings, we found we had so much in common.
A drive to Ipswich should be something like only two and a half hours, but with the Dartford Crossing that could balloon to four or more.
My choice was to leave early, soon after Jools left for work, or wait to near nine once rush hour was over. If I was up early, I'd leave early, I said.
Which is what happened.
So, after coffee and Jools leaving, I loaded my camera stuff in the car, not bothering to program in a destination, as I knew the route to Suffolk so well.
Checking the internet I found the M2 was closed, so that meant taking the M20, which I like as it runs beside HS2, although over the years, vegetation growth now hides most of it, and with Eurostar cutting services due to Brexit, you're lucky to see a train on the line now.
I had a phone loaded with podcasts, so time flew by, even if travelling through the endless roadworks at 50mph seemed to take forever.
Dartford was jammed. But we inched forward, until as the bridge came in sight, traffic moved smoothly, and I followed the traffic down into the east bore of the tunnel.
Another glorious morning for travel, the sun shone from a clear blue sky, even if traffic was heavy, but I had time, so not pressing on like I usually do, making the drive a pleasant one.
Up through Essex, where most other traffic turned off at Stanstead, then up to the A11 junction, with it being not yet nine, I had several hours to fill before the ceremony.
I stopped at Cambridge services for breakfast, then programmed the first church in: Gazeley, which is just in Suffolk on the border with Cambridgeshire.
I took the next junction off, took two further turnings brought be to the village, which is divided by one of the widest village streets I have ever seen.
It was five past nine: would the church be open?
I parked on the opposite side of the road, grabbed my bag and camera, limped over, passing a warden putting new notices in the parish notice board. We exchange good mornings, and I walk to the porch.
The inner door was unlocked, and the heavy door swung after turning the metal ring handle.
I had made a list of four churches from Simon's list of the top 60 Suffolk churches, picking those on or near my route to Ipswich and which piqued my interest.
Here, it was the reset mediaeval glass.
Needless to say, I had the church to myself, the centuries hanging heavy inside as sunlight flooded in filling the Chancel with warm golden light.
Windows had several devotional dials carved in the surrounding stone, and a huge and "stunningly beautiful piscina, and beside it are sedilia that end in an arm rest carved in the shape of a beast" which caught my eye.
A display in the Chancel was of the decoration of the wooden roof above where panels contained carved beasts, some actual and some mythical.
I photographed them all.
----------------------------------------------------
All Saints is a large, remarkably good church in one of the sleepy, fat villages along the Cambridgeshire border, the sort of place you cycle through and imagine wistfully that you've won the lottery and could move there. The wide churchyard on both sides is a perfect setting for the church, which rises to heaven out of a perpendicular splendour of aisles, clerestories and battlements. The tower was complete by the 1470s when money was being left for a bell. The earlier chancel steadies the ship, anchoring it to earth quietly, although the tall east window has its spectacular moment too. And you step into a deliciously well-kept interior, full of interest.
One of the most significant medieval survivals here is not easily noticed. This is the range of 15th Century glass, which was reset by the Victorians high in the clerestory. This seems a curious thing to have done, since it defeats the purpose of a clerestory, but if they had not done so then we might have lost it. The glass matches the tracery in the north aisle windows, so that is probably where they came from. There are angels, three Saints and some shields, most of which are heraldic but two show the instruments of the passion and the Holy Trinity. I would not be surprised to learn that some of the shields are 19th century, but the figures are all original late 15th or early 16th century. The Saints are an unidentified Bishop, the hacksaw-wielding St Faith and one of my favourites, St Apollonia. She it was who was invoked by medieval people against toothache.
Waling from the nave up into the chancel, the space created by the clearing of clutter makes it at once mysterious and beautiful. Above, the early 16th century waggon roof is Suffolk's best of its kind. Mortlock points out the little angels bearing scrolls, the wheat ears and the vine sprays, and the surviving traces of colour. The low side window on the south side still has its hinges, for here it was that updraught to the rood would have sent the candles flickering in the mystical church of the 14th century. On the south side of the sanctuary is an exquisitely carved arched recess, that doesn't appear to have ever had a door, and may have been a very rare purpose-built Easter sepulchre at the time of the 1330s rebuilding. Opposite is a huge and stunningly beautiful piscina, and beside it are sedilia that end in an arm rest carved in the shape of a beast. It is one of the most significant Decorated moments in Suffolk.
On the floor of the chancel there is a tiny, perfect chalice brass, one of only two surviving in Suffolk. The other is at Rendham. Not far away is the indent of another chalice brass - or perhaps it was for the same one, and the brass has been moved for some reason. There are two chalice indents at Westhall, but nowhere else in Suffolk. Chalice brasses were popular memorials for Priests in the 15th and early 16th centuries, and thus were fair game for reformers. Heigham memorials of the late 16th century are on the walls. Back in the south aisle there is a splendid tombchest in Purbeck marble. It has lost its brasses, but the indents show us where they were, as do other indents in the aisle floors. Some heraldic brass shields survive, and show that Heighams were buried here. Brass inscriptions survive in the nave and the chancel, dating from the late 16th and early 17th centuries.
The 14th century font is a good example of the tracery pattern series that appeared in the decades before the Black Death. They may have been intended to spread ideas at that time of great artistic and intellectual flowering before it was so cruelly snatched away. The cover is 17th Century. At this end of the nave are two good ranges of medieval benches, one, rare in East Anglia, is a group of 14th Century benches with pierced tracery backs. Some of them appear to spell out words, and Mortlock thought one might say Salaman Sayet. The block of benches to the north appears to be 15th Century or possibly early 16th Century. Further north, the early 17th Century benches are simpler, even cruder, and were likely the work of the village carpenter.
All rather lovely then. And yet, it hasn't always been that way. All Saints at Gazeley, near Newmarket, was the first church that I visited after an international team of scientists conclusively proved that God did not exist began the first page for this church that I wrote in 2003, in a satirical mood after finding the church locked and at a very low ebb. At a time when congregations were generally falling, I'd been thinking about the future of medieval churches beyond a time when they would have people to use them in the traditional way. I wondered if the buildings might find new uses, or could adapt themselves to changing patterns and emphases in Christianity, or even changing spiritual needs of their parishes. Even if science could somehow prove that God did not exist, I suggested, there were parishes which would rise to the challenge and reinvent themselves, as churches have always done over the two millennia of Christianity. Coming to Gazeley I felt that here was a church which felt as if it had been abandoned. And yet, it seemed to me a church of such significance, such historical and spiritual importance, that its loss would be a disaster. If it had been clean, tidy and open at the time he was visiting, Simon Jenkins England's Thousand Best Churches would not have been able to resist it. Should the survival of such a treasure store depend upon the existence of God or the continued practice of the Christian faith? Or might there be other reasons to keep this extraordinary building in something like its present integrity?
In the first decade of the 21st Century, Gazeley church went on a tremendous journey, from being moribund to being the wonderful church you can visit today. If you want to read the slightly adapted 2006 entry for Gazeley, recounting this journey, you can do so here. Coming back here today always fills me with optimism for what can be achieved. On one occasion I mentioned my experiences of Gazeley church to a Catholic Priest friend of mine, and he said he hoped I knew I'd seen the power of the Holy Spirit at work. And perhaps that is so. Certainly, the energy and imagination of the people here have been fired by something. On that occasion I had wanted to find someone to ask about it, to find out how things stood now. But there was no one, and so the building spoke for them.
Back outside in the graveyard, the dog daisies clustered and waved their sun-kissed faces in the light breeze. The ancient building must have known many late-May days like this over the centuries, but think of all the changes that it has known inside! The general buffeting of the winds of history still leaves room for local squalls and lightning strikes. All Saints has known these, but for now a blessed calm reigns here. Long may it remain so.
Simon Knott, June 2019
New King James Version (NKJV)
For what profit is it to a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul? Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul?
Romans 8:28
New King James Version (NKJV)
And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.
Armageddon is to clean all vile & wicked things ruining the earth & opposing God as the rightful & Eternal King of heaven & earth: “Great and wonderful are your works, Jehovah God, the Almighty. Righteous and true are your ways, King of eternity." (The Bible) God's Sovereignty for His name to be sanctified on the Day of Armageddon is by means of His Shepherd King, His only begotten Son Christ Jesus; God's own chosen millennium King will rule one thousand literal years, beginning the Day of Armageddon.
God's King the resurrected Christ Jesus is the righteous Warrior King. He rides on the day of God's divine & righteous war with his angelic armies of angels (spirit sons) & his heavenly bride-class. Christ's bride is of the little flock they have been resurrected into celestial spirit beings from the first resurrection; as holy kings & priests they are to rule in God's Kingdom Government in heaven with Christ: "And I saw, and, look! the Lamb standing upon the Mount Zion, and with him a hundred and forty-four thousand having his name and the name of his Father written on their foreheads." Revelation 14:1. Do you know the name of Jesus Christ's Father? The bible answers: “I am Jehovah. That is my name; and to no one else shall I give my own glory, neither my praise to graven images." Isaiah 42:8.
It was forewarned that all would be held accountable. The world of ungodly ones is brought to their end on God’s fear & inspiring Day; these being the things written and prophesied. The later descendants of offenders have been divinely given the choice to choose life if it is life they want. It has been written, they, the later descendants of offenders; do not want life from the Sovereign and Rightful Ruler; they, themselves, have hated the true God of Heaven as well as His divine knowledge & His Word alive. The ones, prophesied to be destroyed at Armageddon are known as the wicked. They are the haters of God's divine wisdom, His Christ, the Kingdom of heaven and His people. God's truth does not reside in the wicked one, says the bible.
And by their scornful unwillingness to repent they, the wicked, chose death over life for themselves. They are symbolically looked upon as goats. These ones are prophesied to receive a cutting off of their life-force extinguished as a flame to a candle. Jesus Christ said by dive warning to the hypocritical scribes and Pharisees: “You say, ‘If we were in the days of our forefathers, we would not be sharers with them in the blood of the prophets.’ Therefore you are bearing witness against yourselves that you are sons of those who murdered the prophets. Well then, fill up the measure of your forefathers.” Matthew 23: 29-32. This prophecy is making a specific and strong point. The conclusion of this matter is spoken by the Discreet Slave class: Despite their pretensions, by their course of action such ones [the later descendants of offenders] demonstrated their approval of the wrong deeds of their forefathers and proved that they themselves continued to be among ‘those hating Jehovah.’ If you wish ~:`) read from your Bibles; Exodus 20:5; Matthew 23: 33-36; Jonah 15:23, 24.
Armageddon is a selective war by God. Armageddon's purpose is to cleanse the earth of the ones ruining it, removing the world of ungodly ones not wanting to know God. Prophecy foretells only the meek and mild are to inherit Earth. God’s people are prophesied to be the new society of the new earth as they are becoming spiritually & morally cleansed. God is a spirit & requires His people to worship Him in spirit & in truth. We need to take in knowledge of the bible if we are to learn about God's requirements in how He is to be worshiped correctly. God requires people to worship Him in spirit and truth as His Word is truth.
"Jehovah is not slow respecting his promise, as some people consider slowness, but he is patient with YOU because he does not desire any to be destroyed but desires all to attain to repentance. . . .By their fruits YOU will recognize them. Never do people gather grapes from thorns or figs from thistles, do they? Likewise every good tree produces fine fruit, but every rotten tree produces worthless fruit; . ..The Bible itself says: “All Scripture is inspired of God and beneficial for teaching, for reproving, for setting things straight, for disciplining in righteousness, that the man [or woman] of God may be fully competent, completely equipped for every good work.” Peter 3:9; Matthew 7:16-17;2 Timothy 3:16, 17.
The man-slayer, Satan, the Devil, ruler of this dark world has already been judged this is what will take place on the Great & fear Inspiring day: "And I saw an angel coming down out of heaven with the key of the abyss and a great chain in his hand. And he seized the dragon, the original serpent, who is the Devil and Satan, and bound him for a thousand years. And he hurled him into the abyss and shut [it] and sealed [it] over him, that he might not mislead the nations anymore until the thousand years were ended. After these things he must be let loose for a little while." Revelation 20: 1-3. Who do you think this pertains to: "an angel coming down out of heaven with the key of the abyss and a great chain in his hand." ? Jesus Christ is the Angel with the chain to chain the Devil. It is so important to take in God's accurate knowledge so that one is not fooled by the foolishness of the wisdom of the world & its false prophets. God's Word is lifesaving to those who take it in by studying the bible as a whole. And it is important to remain in the healthful teachings of the holy scriptures. John 17:3: " This means everlasting life, their taking in knowledge of you, the only true God, and of the one whom you sent forth, Jesus Christ."
Storm Lillian did her worse over Thursday night, blowing a right hoolie.
Winds were still strong at dawn, but nothing to give much of a thought about, so that when Jools dropped me off at the station, I went into the greasy spoon for a bacon and sausage butty and a brew. And then sat on the low wall to eat and drink, knowing I had half an hour to kill as the train had just left.
So I thought.
Storm Lillian had, in fact, brought a tree down on the line near Sittingbourne, and a train had hit it, so that al services were backed up, and I wasn't going to get to Canterbury East. But as the name suggests, there is another station in the city, though no direct trains from Dover to Canterbury West now.
Instead I caught a train north through Deal and Sandwich to Ramsgate, which was uneventful, if overlong due to the rambling nature of the line north of Richborough.
At Ramsgate, having just missed a high speed service, we waited.
For half an hour a Charing Cross service was "at Dumpton Park", but never arrived, so that it was the next high speed service we all piled onto.
A 15 minute run along the Stour Valley brought me to the city, where half the population with suitcases were waiting to get on.
I slipped off, but instead of going straight to the city, I turned left to the Goods Shed, an artisan market to check out whether there was guanciale.
They had some, and at half the price in Borough Market, so I made plans that either Jools or I would go back later to buy a hunk at only £2.60/Kg.
What I did notice too, was the eatery had just opened up, and were selling bubble and squeak with a variety of toppings. So I found myself ordering a second breakfast of bubble topped with chorizo and scrambled egg, along with the best coffee I have had for a long while.
That was better, now to face the naked city!
The long, dark and empty days of COVID are behind us, and although the streets were not packed, there were groups following guides, and it felt normal.
The reason for being here was the first ever public opening of the Corona Tower and then the chance to climb the 87 steps to the roof, for panoramic views of the city and surrounding downs.
Just one tour a day, with limited numbers, so I wanted to make sure my name was on the list. I got to the cathedral at five past ten, and was indeed the first name on the list, though a decision on whether the rooftop visit would go ahead depended on the winds dropping.
I went round the cathedral one more time, rattling of a couple of hundred shots, going down the crypt and around the Apse.
A short walk away is St Paul Without, which was open. So I went in to take some shots, I think I was there a couple of years back and was recognised in the guise of my Facebook avatar and name.
At midday, or just past, I was at the door of the Thomas Backet pub for a swifter. The landlord's two dogs made me feel very welcome.
The sun had got out and was warm outside, so I stayed inside for a second beer, and then they put their new house ale on, Troublesome Priest, named after the curse of King John of Thomas Becket. Its a dark best bitter, and very drinkable.
Three pints in, I thought I had better stop and go to meet up with Jools. The cathedral called to let me know the tour was on, so all was good.
I booked a table at a BBQ place for later, bought Jools a cider as she was parched, whereas I was well hydrated.
At quarter to three, I walked back to the cathedral, and was entertained by a choir while I waited. Their voices filled the huge space of the Nave, spinetingling stuff.
At half three, I met the guide at the lectern in the Quire, five others joined in to. So, after introductions, we walked to the Chapel at the very east of the Cathedral.
The public can look in the chapel, but have never been allowed inside, so this was a rare chance.
We swapped stories and news, me pointing out that the guide should really go to Nackington to see the ancient glass there, glass that gives the cathedral a good run for its money with the oldest stained glass in the country.
Then, time to climb to to roof of the chapel. An ancient door was unlocked, and beyond, medieval steps, unworn by many feet, so looking almost new, lead up and round.
Two glass doors look out onto the Quire, but are left dirty so people don't linger on the stairs to look. So, up and up, round and round, until the steps straighten up and with one last double-height step, we were out on the roof.
Not the very top of the cathedral: the roof of the Chancel rose to the west, and the central tower behind that, and in the distance, the two western tower just showed.
We look down on the city: a party in the grounds of the posh school nearby, the hustle of the streets and shops, and beyond, ground rose on all sides to the north Downs.
For half an hour we lingered and soaked the warm in.
Time ran out, so back down. With the first huge step a doosie, but once over that, just round and round, down and down until we were back in the Chancel, with the last visitors of the day looking in surprise as we emerged from the cathedral walls.
Jools was in the Thomas Becket, as was my colleague Peter. They were two beers up on me. Or Peter was. Jools would be driving, so she had the one cider.
The pub is city centre, but down a side street, so is good, but quieter than it might otherwise be. And their beer is good, which helps, and the food, if you eat there, very good indeed.
We talk for an hour, then walk to the smokehouse, which turned out not to be a smokehouse, but a fast food place, opposite the grand entrance to King's School. They di platters for us, and was pretty good, and not too pricey either.
Then back to the Thomas Becket for "one last beer", and more chatting.
Jools lead me to the car, as my health app ticked over 18,000 steps. I was pooped and ready to go home for a cuppa before bed.
The city was just waking up, as bright and beautiful young things tumbled out of cars for a night in the clubs and bars, just beginning their fun just as we were finishing up.
Out through Windcheap and onto the A2, a cruise in the gloaming back to Dover.
Needless to say, the cats were very pleased/annoyed to see us just after nine. So we fed them, fussed over them. Jools made a brew and I checked my shots, charged the battery ready for Saturday and another fine day out planned.
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History of the cathedral
THE ORIGIN of a Christian church on the scite of the present cathedral, is supposed to have taken place as early as the Roman empire in Britain, for the use of the antient faithful and believing soldiers of their garrison here; and that Augustine found such a one standing here, adjoining to king Ethelbert's palace, which was included in the king's gift to him.
This supposition is founded on the records of the priory of Christ-church, (fn. 1) concurring with the common opinion of almost all our historians, who tell us of a church in Canterbury, which Augustine found standing in the east part of the city, which he had of king Ethelbert's gift, which after his consecration at Arles, in France, he commended by special dedication to the patronage of our blessed Saviour. (fn. 2)
According to others, the foundations only of an old church formerly built by the believing Romans, were left here, on which Augustine erected that, which he afterwards dedicated to out Saviour; (fn. 3) and indeed it is not probable that king Ethelbert should have suffered the unsightly ruins of a Christian church, which, being a Pagan, must have been very obnoxious to him, so close to his palace, and supposing these ruins had been here, would he not have suffered them to be repaired, rather than have obliged his Christian queen to travel daily to such a distance as St. Martin's church, or St. Pancrace's chapel, for the performance of her devotions.
Some indeed have conjectured that the church found by St. Augustine, in the east part of the city, was that of St.Martin, truly so situated; and urge in favor of it, that there have not been at any time any remains of British or Roman bricks discovered scattered in or about this church of our Saviour, those infallible, as Mr. Somner stiles them, signs of antiquity, and so generally found in buildings, which have been erected on, or close to the spot where more antient ones have stood. But to proceed, king Ethelbert's donation to Augustine was made in the year 596, who immediately afterwards went over to France, and was consecrated a bishop at Arles, and after his return, as soon as he had sufficiently finished a church here, whether built out of ruins or anew, it matters not, he exercised his episcopal function in the dedication of it, says the register of Christ-church, to the honor of Christ our Saviour; whence it afterwards obtained the name of Christ-church. (fn. 4)
From the time of Augustine for the space of upwards of three hundred years, there is not found in any printed or manuscript chronicle, the least mention of the fabric of this church, so that it is probable nothing befell it worthy of being recorded; however it should be mentioned, that during that period the revenues of it were much increased, for in the leiger books of it there are registered more than fifty donations of manors, lands, &c. so large and bountiful, as became the munificence of kings and nobles to confer. (fn. 5)
It is supposed, especially as we find no mention made of any thing to the contrary, that the fabric of this church for two hundred years after Augustine's time, met with no considerable molestations; but afterwards, the frequent invasions of the Danes involved both the civil and ecclesiastical state of this country in continual troubles and dangers; in the confusion of which, this church appears to have run into a state of decay; for when Odo was promoted to the archbishopric, in the year 938, the roof of it was in a ruinous condition; age had impaired it, and neglect had made it extremely dangerous; the walls of it were of an uneven height, according as it had been more or less decayed, and the roof of the church seemed ready to fall down on the heads of those underneath. All this the archbishop undertook to repair, and then covered the whole church with lead; to finish which, it took three years, as Osbern tells us, in the life of Odo; (fn. 6) and further, that there was not to be found a church of so large a size, capable of containing so great a multitude of people, and thus, perhaps, it continued without any material change happening to it, till the year 1011; a dismal and fatal year to this church and city; a time of unspeakable confusion and calamities; for in the month of September that year, the Danes, after a siege of twenty days, entered this city by force, burnt the houses, made a lamentable slaughter of the inhabitants, rifled this church, and then set it on fire, insomuch, that the lead with which archbishop Odo had covered it, being melted, ran down on those who were underneath. The sull story of this calamity is given by Osbern, in the life of archbishop Odo, an abridgement of which the reader will find below. (fn. 7)
The church now lay in ruins, without a roof, the bare walls only standing, and in this desolate condition it remained as long as the fury of the Danes prevailed, who after they had burnt the church, carried away archbishop Alphage with them, kept him in prison seven months, and then put him to death, in the year 1012, the year after which Living, or Livingus, succeeded him as archbishop, though it was rather in his calamities than in his seat of dignity, for he too was chained up by the Danes in a loathsome dungeon for seven months, before he was set free, but he so sensibly felt the deplorable state of this country, which he foresaw was every day growing worse and worse, that by a voluntary exile, he withdrew himself out of the nation, to find some solitary retirement, where he might bewail those desolations of his country, to which he was not able to bring any relief, but by his continual prayers. (fn. 8) He just outlived this storm, returned into England, and before he died saw peace and quientness restored to this land by king Canute, who gaining to himself the sole sovereignty over the nation, made it his first business to repair the injuries which had been done to the churches and monasteries in this kingdom, by his father's and his own wars. (fn. 9)
As for this church, archbishop Ægelnoth, who presided over it from the year 1020 to the year 1038, began and finished the repair, or rather the rebuilding of it, assisted in it by the royal munificence of the king, (fn. 10) who in 1023 presented his crown of gold to this church, and restored to it the port of Sandwich, with its liberties. (fn. 11) Notwithstanding this, in less than forty years afterwards, when Lanfranc soon after the Norman conquest came to the see, he found this church reduced almost to nothing by fire, and dilapidations; for Eadmer says, it had been consumed by a third conflagration, prior to the year of his advancement to it, in which fire almost all the antient records of the privileges of it had perished. (fn. 12)
The same writer has given us a description of this old church, as it was before Lanfranc came to the see; by which we learn, that at the east end there was an altar adjoining to the wall of the church, of rough unhewn stone, cemented with mortar, erected by archbishop Odo, for a repository of the body of Wilfrid, archbishop of York, which Odo had translated from Rippon hither, giving it here the highest place; at a convenient distance from this, westward, there was another altar, dedicated to Christ our Saviour, at which divine service was daily celebrated. In this altar was inclosed the head of St. Swithin, with many other relics, which archbishop Alphage brought with him from Winchester. Passing from this altar westward, many steps led down to the choir and nave, which were both even, or upon the same level. At the bottom of the steps, there was a passage into the undercroft, under all the east part of the church. (fn. 13) At the east end of which, was an altar, in which was inclosed, according to old tradition, the head of St. Furseus. From hence by a winding passage, at the west end of it, was the tomb of St. Dunstan, (fn. 14) but separated from the undercroft by a strong stone wall; over the tomb was erected a monument, pyramid wife, and at the head of it an altar, (fn. 15) for the mattin service. Between these steps, or passage into the undercroft and the nave, was the choir, (fn. 16) which was separated from the nave by a fair and decent partition, to keep off the crowds of people that usually were in the body of the church, so that the singing of the chanters in the choir might not be disturbed. About the middle of the length of the nave, were two towers or steeples, built without the walls; one on the south, and the other on the north side. In the former was the altar of St. Gregory, where was an entrance into the church by the south door, and where law controversies and pleas concerning secular matters were exercised. (fn. 17) In the latter, or north tower, was a passage for the monks into the church, from the monastery; here were the cloysters, where the novices were instructed in their religious rules and offices, and where the monks conversed together. In this tower was the altar of St. Martin. At the west end of the church was a chapel, dedicated to the blessed Virgin Mary, to which there was an ascent by steps, and at the east end of it an altar, dedicated to her, in which was inclosed the head of St. Astroburta the Virgin; and at the western part of it was the archbishop's pontifical chair, made of large stones, compacted together with mortar; a fair piece of work, and placed at a convenient distance from the altar, close to the wall of the church. (fn. 18)
To return now to archbishop Lanfranc, who was sent for from Normandy in 1073, being the fourth year of the Conqueror's reign, to fill this see, a time, when a man of a noble spirit, equal to the laborious task he was to undertake, was wanting especially for this church; and that he was such, the several great works which were performed by him, were incontestable proofs, as well as of his great and generous mind. At the first sight of the ruinous condition of this church, says the historian, the archbishop was struck with astonishment, and almost despaired of seeing that and the monastery re edified; but his care and perseverance raised both in all its parts anew, and that in a novel and more magnificent kind and form of structure, than had been hardly in any place before made use of in this kingdom, which made it a precedent and pattern to succeeding structures of this kind; (fn. 19) and new monasteries and churches were built after the example of it; for it should be observed, that before the coming of the Normans most of the churches and monasteries in this kingdom were of wood; (all the monasteries in my realm, says king Edgar, in his charter to the abbey of Malmesbury, dated anno 974, to the outward sight are nothing but worm-eaten and rotten timber and boards) but after the Norman conquest, such timber fabrics grew out of use, and gave place to stone buildings raised upon arches; a form of structure introduced into general use by that nation, and in these parts surnished with stone from Caen, in Normandy. (fn. 20) After this fashion archbishop Lanfranc rebuilt the whole church from the foundation, with the palace and monastery, the wall which encompassed the court, and all the offices belonging to the monastery within the wall, finishing the whole nearly within the compass of seven years; (fn. 21) besides which, he furnished the church with ornaments and rich vestments; after which, the whole being perfected, he altered the name of it, by a dedication of it to the Holy Trinity; whereas, before it was called the church of our Saviour, or Christ-church, and from the above time it bore (as by Domesday book appears) the name of the church of the Holy Trinity; this new church being built on the same spot on which the antient one stood, though on a far different model.
After Lanfranc's death, archbishop Anselm succeeded in the year 1093, to the see of Canterbury, and must be esteemed a principal benefactor to this church; for though his time was perplexed with a continued series of troubles, of which both banishment and poverty made no small part, which in a great measure prevented him from bestowing that cost on his church, which he would otherwise have done, yet it was through his patronage and protection, and through his care and persuasions, that the fabric of it, begun and perfected by his predecessor, became enlarged and rose to still greater splendor. (fn. 22)
In order to carry this forward, upon the vacancy of the priory, he constituted Ernulph and Conrad, the first in 1104, the latter in 1108, priors of this church; to whose care, being men of generous and noble minds, and of singular skill in these matters, he, during his troubles, not only committed the management of this work, but of all his other concerns during his absence.
Probably archbishop Anselm, on being recalled from banishment on king Henry's accession to the throne, had pulled down that part of the church built by Lanfranc, from the great tower in the middle of it to the east end, intending to rebuild it upon a still larger and more magnificent plan; when being borne down by the king's displeasure, he intrusted prior Ernulph with the work, who raised up the building with such splendor, says Malmesbury, that the like was not to be seen in all England; (fn. 23) but the short time Ernulph continued in this office did not permit him to see his undertaking finished. (fn. 24) This was left to his successor Conrad, who, as the obituary of Christ church informs us, by his great industry, magnificently perfected the choir, which his predecessor had left unfinished, (fn. 25) adorning it with curious pictures, and enriching it with many precious ornaments. (fn. 26)
This great undertaking was not entirely compleated at the death of archbishop Anselm, which happened in 1109, anno 9 Henry I. nor indeed for the space of five years afterwards, during which the see of Canterbury continued vacant; when being finished, in honour of its builder, and on account of its more than ordinary beauty, it gained the name of the glorious choir of Conrad. (fn. 27)
After the see of Canterbury had continued thus vacant for five years, Ralph, or as some call him, Rodulph, bishop of Rochester, was translated to it in the year 1114, at whose coming to it, the church was dedicated anew to the Holy Trinity, the name which had been before given to it by Lanfranc. (fn. 28) The only particular description we have of this church when thus finished, is from Gervas, the monk of this monastery, and that proves imperfect, as to the choir of Lanfranc, which had been taken down soon after his death; (fn. 29) the following is his account of the nave, or western part of it below the choir, being that which had been erected by archbishop Lanfranc, as has been before mentioned. From him we learn, that the west end, where the chapel of the Virgin Mary stood before, was now adorned with two stately towers, on the top of which were gilded pinnacles. The nave or body was supported by eight pair of pillars. At the east end of the nave, on the north side, was an oratory, dedicated in honor to the blessed Virgin, in lieu, I suppose, of the chapel, that had in the former church been dedicated to her at the west end. Between the nave and the choir there was built a great tower or steeple, as it were in the centre of the whole fabric; (fn. 30) under this tower was erected the altar of the Holy Cross; over a partition, which separated this tower from the nave, a beam was laid across from one side to the other of the church; upon the middle of this beam was fixed a great cross, between the images of the Virgin Mary and St. John, and between two cherubims. The pinnacle on the top of this tower, was a gilded cherub, and hence it was called the angel steeple; a name it is frequently called by at this day. (fn. 31)
This great tower had on each side a cross isle, called the north and south wings, which were uniform, of the same model and dimensions; each of them had a strong pillar in the middle for a support to the roof, and each of them had two doors or passages, by which an entrance was open to the east parts of the church. At one of these doors there was a descent by a few steps into the undercroft; at the other, there was an ascent by many steps into the upper parts of the church, that is, the choir, and the isles on each side of it. Near every one of these doors or passages, an altar was erected; at the upper door in the south wing, there was an altar in honour of All Saints; and at the lower door there was one of St. Michael; and before this altar on the south side was buried archbishop Fleologild; and on the north side, the holy Virgin Siburgis, whom St. Dunstan highly admired for her sanctity. In the north isle, by the upper door, was the altar of St. Blaze; and by the lower door, that of St. Benedict. In this wing had been interred four archbishops, Adelm and Ceolnoth, behind the altar, and Egelnoth and Wlfelm before it. At the entrance into this wing, Rodulph and his successor William Corboil, both archbishops, were buried. (fn. 32)
Hence, he continues, we go up by some steps into the great tower, and before us there is a door and steps leading down into the south wing, and on the right hand a pair of folding doors, with stairs going down into the nave of the church; but without turning to any of these, let us ascend eastward, till by several more steps we come to the west end of Conrad's choir; being now at the entrance of the choir, Gervas tells us, that he neither saw the choir built by Lanfranc, nor found it described by any one; that Eadmer had made mention of it, without giving any account of it, as he had done of the old church, the reason of which appears to be, that Lanfranc's choir did not long survive its founder, being pulled down as before-mentioned, by archbishop Anselm; so that it could not stand more than twenty years; therefore the want of a particular description of it will appear no great defect in the history of this church, especially as the deficiency is here supplied by Gervas's full relation of the new choir of Conrad, built instead of it; of which, whoever desires to know the whole architecture and model observed in the fabric, the order, number, height and form of the pillars and windows, may know the whole of it from him. The roof of it, he tells us, (fn. 33) was beautified with curious paintings representing heaven; (fn. 34) in several respects it was agreeable to the present choir, the stalls were large and framed of carved wood. In the middle of it, there hung a gilded crown, on which were placed four and twenty tapers of wax. From the choir an ascent of three steps led to the presbiterium, or place for the presbiters; here, he says, it would be proper to stop a little and take notice of the high altar, which was dedicated to the name of CHRIST. It was placed between two other altars, the one of St. Dunstan, the other of St. Alphage; at the east corners of the high altar were fixed two pillars of wood, beautified with silver and gold; upon these pillars was placed a beam, adorned with gold, which reached across the church, upon it there were placed the glory, (fn. 35) the images of St. Dunstan and St. Alphage, and seven chests or coffers overlaid with gold, full of the relics of many saints. Between those pillars was a cross gilded all over, and upon the upper beam of the cross were set sixty bright crystals.
Beyond this, by an ascent of eight steps towards the east, behind the altar, was the archiepiscopal throne, which Gervas calls the patriarchal chair, made of one stone; in this chair, according to the custom of the church, the archbishop used to sit, upon principal festivals, in his pontifical ornaments, whilst the solemn offices of religion were celebrated, until the consecration of the host, when he came down to the high altar, and there performed the solemnity of consecration. Still further, eastward, behind the patriarchal chair, (fn. 36) was a chapel in the front of the whole church, in which was an altar, dedicated to the Holy Trinity; behind which were laid the bones of two archbishops, Odo of Canterbury, and Wilfrid of York; by this chapel on the south side near the wall of the church, was laid the body of archbishop Lanfranc, and on the north side, the body of archbishop Theobald. Here it is to be observed, that under the whole east part of the church, from the angel steeple, there was an undercrost or crypt, (fn. 37) in which were several altars, chapels and sepulchres; under the chapel of the Trinity before-mentioned, were two altars, on the south side, the altar of St. Augustine, the apostle of the English nation, by which archbishop Athelred was interred. On the north side was the altar of St. John Baptist, by which was laid the body of archbishop Eadsin; under the high altar was the chapel and altar of the blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the whole undercroft was dedicated.
To return now, he continues, to the place where the bresbyterium and choir meet, where on each side there was a cross isle (as was to be seen in his time) which might be called the upper south and north wings; on the east side of each of these wings were two half circular recesses or nooks in the wall, arched over after the form of porticoes. Each of them had an altar, and there was the like number of altars under them in the crost. In the north wing, the north portico had the altar of St. Martin, by which were interred the bodies of two archbishops, Wlfred on the right, and Living on the left hand; under it in the croft, was the altar of St. Mary Magdalen. The other portico in this wing, had the altar of St. Stephen, and by it were buried two archbishops, Athelard on the left hand, and Cuthbert on the right; in the croft under it, was the altar of St. Nicholas. In the south wing, the north portico had the altar of St. John the Evangelist, and by it the bodies of Æthelgar and Aluric, archbishops, were laid. In the croft under it was the altar of St. Paulinus, by which the body of archbishop Siricius was interred. In the south portico was the altar of St. Gregory, by which were laid the corps of the two archbishops Bregwin and Plegmund. In the croft under it was the altar of St. Owen, archbishop of Roan, and underneath in the croft, not far from it the altar of St. Catherine.
Passing from these cross isles eastward there were two towers, one on the north, the other on the south side of the church. In the tower on the north side was the altar of St. Andrew, which gave name to the tower; under it, in the croft, was the altar of the Holy Innocents; the tower on the south side had the altar of St. Peter and St. Paul, behind which the body of St. Anselm was interred, which afterwards gave name both to the altar and tower (fn. 38) (now called St. Anselm's). The wings or isles on each side of the choir had nothing in particular to be taken notice of.— Thus far Gervas, from whose description we in particular learn, where several of the bodies of the old archbishops were deposited, and probably the ashes of some of them remain in the same places to this day.
As this building, deservedly called the glorious choir of Conrad, was a magnificent work, so the undertaking of it at that time will appear almost beyond example, especially when the several circumstances of it are considered; but that it was carried forward at the archbishop's cost, exceeds all belief. It was in the discouraging reign of king William Rufus, a prince notorious in the records of history, for all manner of sacrilegious rapine, that archbishop Anselm was promoted to this see; when he found the lands and revenues of this church so miserably wasted and spoiled, that there was hardly enough left for his bare subsistence; who, in the first years that he sat in the archiepiscopal chair, struggled with poverty, wants and continual vexations through the king's displeasure, (fn. 39) and whose three next years were spent in banishment, during all which time he borrowed money for his present maintenance; who being called home by king Henry I. at his coming to the crown, laboured to pay the debts he had contracted during the time of his banishment, and instead of enjoying that tranquility and ease he hoped for, was, within two years afterwards, again sent into banishment upon a fresh displeasure conceived against him by the king, who then seized upon all the revenues of the archbishopric, (fn. 40) which he retained in his own hands for no less than four years.
Under these hard circumstances, it would have been surprizing indeed, that the archbishop should have been able to carry on so great a work, and yet we are told it, as a truth, by the testimonies of history; but this must surely be understood with the interpretation of his having been the patron, protector and encourager, rather than the builder of this work, which he entrusted to the care and management of the priors Ernulph and Conrad, and sanctioned their employing, as Lanfranc had done before, the revenues and stock of the church to this use. (fn. 41)
In this state as above-mentioned, without any thing material happening to it, this church continued till about the year 1130, anno 30 Henry I. when it seems to have suffered some damage by a fire; (fn. 42) but how much, there is no record left to inform us; however it could not be of any great account, for it was sufficiently repaired, and that mostly at the cost of archbishop Corboil, who then sat in the chair of this see, (fn. 43) before the 4th of May that year, on which day, being Rogation Sunday, the bishops performed the dedication of it with great splendor and magnificence, such, says Gervas, col. 1664, as had not been heard of since the dedication of the temple of Solomon; the king, the queen, David, king of Scots, all the archbishops, and the nobility of both kingdoms being present at it, when this church's former name was restored again, being henceforward commonly called Christ-church. (fn. 44)
Among the manuscripts of Trinity college library, in Cambridge, in a very curious triple psalter of St. Jerome, in Latin, written by the monk Eadwyn, whose picture is at the beginning of it, is a plan or drawing made by him, being an attempt towards a representation of this church and monastery, as they stood between the years 1130 and 1174; which makes it probable, that he was one of the monks of it, and the more so, as the drawing has not any kind of relation to the plalter or sacred hymns contained in the manuscript.
His plan, if so it may be called, for it is neither such, nor an upright, nor a prospect, and yet something of all together; but notwithstanding this rudeness of the draftsman, it shews very plain that it was intended for this church and priory, and gives us a very clear knowledge, more than we have been able to learn from any description we have besides, of what both were at the above period of time. (fn. 45)
Forty-four years after this dedication, on the 5th of September, anno 1174, being the 20th year of king Henry II.'s reign, a fire happened, which consumed great part of this stately edifice, namely, the whole choir, from the angel steeple to the east end of the church, together with the prior's lodgings, the chapel of the Virgin Mary, the infirmary, and some other offices belonging to the monastery; but the angel steeple, the lower cross isles, and the nave appear to have received no material injury from the flames. (fn. 46) The narrative of this accident is told by Gervas, the monk of Canterbury, so often quoted before, who was an eye witness of this calamity, as follows:
Three small houses in the city near the old gate of the monastery took fire by accident, a strong south wind carried the flakes of fire to the top of the church, and lodged them between the joints of the lead, driving them to the timbers under it; this kindled a fire there, which was not discerned till the melted lead gave a free passage for the flames to appear above the church, and the wind gaining by this means a further power of increasing them, drove them inwardly, insomuch that the danger became immediately past all possibility of relief. The timber of the roof being all of it on fire, fell down into the choir, where the stalls of the manks, made of large pieces of carved wood, afforded plenty of fuel to the flames, and great part of the stone work, through the vehement heat of the fire, was so weakened, as to be brought to irreparable ruin, and besides the fabric itself, the many rich ornaments in the church were devoured by the flames.
The choir being thus laid in ashes, the monks removed from amidst the ruins, the bodies of the two saints, whom they called patrons of the church, the archbishops Dunstan and Alphage, and deposited them by the altar of the great cross, in the nave of the church; (fn. 47) and from this time they celebrated the daily religious offices in the oratory of the blessed Virgin Mary in the nave, and continued to do so for more than five years, when the choir being re edified, they returned to it again. (fn. 48)
Upon this destruction of the church, the prior and convent, without any delay, consulted on the most speedy and effectual method of rebuilding it, resolving to finish it in such a manner, as should surpass all the former choirs of it, as well in beauty as size and magnificence. To effect this, they sent for the most skilful architects that could be found either in France or England. These surveyed the walls and pillars, which remained standing, but they found great part of them so weakened by the fire, that they could no ways be built upon with any safety; and it was accordingly resolved, that such of them should be taken down; a whole year was spent in doing this, and in providing materials for the new building, for which they sent abroad for the best stone that could be procured; Gervas has given a large account, (fn. 49) how far this work advanced year by year; what methods and rules of architecture were observed, and other particulars relating to the rebuilding of this church; all which the curious reader may consult at his leisure; it will be sufficient to observe here, that the new building was larger in height and length, and more beautiful in every respect, than the choir of Conrad; for the roof was considerably advanced above what it was before, and was arched over with stone; whereas before it was composed of timber and boards. The capitals of the pillars were now beautified with different sculptures of carvework; whereas, they were before plain, and six pillars more were added than there were before. The former choir had but one triforium, or inner gallery, but now there were two made round it, and one in each side isle and three in the cross isles; before, there were no marble pillars, but such were now added to it in abundance. In forwarding this great work, the monks had spent eight years, when they could proceed no further for want of money; but a fresh supply coming in from the offerings at St. Thomas's tomb, so much more than was necessary for perfecting the repair they were engaged in, as encouraged them to set about a more grand design, which was to pull down the eastern extremity of the church, with the small chapel of the Holy Trinity adjoining to it, and to erect upon a stately undercroft, a most magnificent one instead of it, equally lofty with the roof of the church, and making a part of it, which the former one did not, except by a door into it; but this new chapel, which was dedicated likewise to the Holy Trinity, was not finished till some time after the rest of the church; at the east end of this chapel another handsome one, though small, was afterwards erected at the extremity of the whole building, since called Becket's crown, on purpose for an altar and the reception of some part of his relics; (fn. 50) further mention of which will be made hereafter.
The eastern parts of this church, as Mr. Gostling observes, have the appearance of much greater antiquity than what is generally allowed to them; and indeed if we examine the outside walls and the cross wings on each side of the choir, it will appear, that the whole of them was not rebuilt at the time the choir was, and that great part of them was suffered to remain, though altered, added to, and adapted as far as could be, to the new building erected at that time; the traces of several circular windows and other openings, which were then stopped up, removed, or altered, still appearing on the walls both of the isles and the cross wings, through the white-wash with which they are covered; and on the south side of the south isle, the vaulting of the roof as well as the triforium, which could not be contrived so as to be adjusted to the places of the upper windows, plainly shew it. To which may be added, that the base or foot of one of the westernmost large pillars of the choir on the north side, is strengthened with a strong iron band round it, by which it should seem to have been one of those pillars which had been weakened by the fire, but was judged of sufficient firmness, with this precaution, to remain for the use of the new fabric.
The outside of this part of the church is a corroborating proof of what has been mentioned above, as well in the method, as in the ornaments of the building.— The outside of it towards the south, from St. Michael's chapel eastward, is adorned with a range of small pillars, about six inches diameter, and about three feet high, some with santastic shasts and capitals, others with plain ones; these support little arches, which intersect each other; and this chain or girdle of pillars is continued round the small tower, the eastern cross isle and the chapel of St. Anselm, to the buildings added in honour of the Holy Trinity, and St. Thomas Becket, where they leave off. The casing of St. Michael's chapel has none of them, but the chapel of the Virgin Mary, answering to it on the north side of the church, not being fitted to the wall, shews some of them behind it; which seems as if they had been continued before, quite round the eastern parts of the church.
These pillars, which rise from about the level of the pavement, within the walls above them, are remarkably plain and bare of ornaments; but the tower above mentioned and its opposite, as soon as they rise clear of the building, are enriched with stories of this colonade, one above another, up to the platform from whence their spires rise; and the remains of the two larger towers eastward, called St. Anselm's, and that answering to it on the north side of the church, called St. Andrew's are decorated much after the same manner, as high as they remain at present.
At the time of the before-mentioned fire, which so fatally destroyed the upper part of this church, the undercrost, with the vaulting over it, seems to have remained entire, and unhurt by it.
The vaulting of the undercrost, on which the floor of the choir and eastern parts of the church is raised, is supported by pillars, whose capitals are as various and fantastical as those of the smaller ones described before, and so are their shafts, some being round, others canted, twisted, or carved, so that hardly any two of them are alike, except such as are quite plain.
These, I suppose, may be concluded to be of the same age, and if buildings in the same stile may be conjectured to be so from thence, the antiquity of this part of the church may be judged, though historians have left us in the dark in relation to it.
In Leland's Collectanea, there is an account and description of a vault under the chancel of the antient church of St. Peter, in Oxford, called Grymbald's crypt, being allowed by all, to have been built by him; (fn. 51) Grymbald was one of those great and accomplished men, whom king Alfred invited into England about the year 885, to assist him in restoring Christianity, learning and the liberal arts. (fn. 52) Those who compare the vaults or undercrost of the church of Canterbury, with the description and prints given of Grymbald's crypt, (fn. 53) will easily perceive, that two buildings could hardly have been erected more strongly resembling each other, except that this at Canterbury is larger, and more pro fusely decorated with variety of fancied ornaments, the shafts of several of the pillars here being twisted, or otherwise varied, and many of the captials exactly in the same grotesque taste as those in Grymbald's crypt. (fn. 54) Hence it may be supposed, that those whom archbishop Lanfranc employed as architects and designers of his building at Canterbury, took their model of it, at least of this part of it, from that crypt, and this undercrost now remaining is the same, as was originally built by him, as far eastward, as to that part which begins under the chapel of the Holy Trinity, where it appears to be of a later date, erected at the same time as the chapel. The part built by Lanfranc continues at this time as firm and entire, as it was at the very building of it, though upwards of seven hundred years old. (fn. 55)
But to return to the new building; though the church was not compleatly finished till the end of the year 1184, yet it was so far advanced towards it, that, in 1180, on April 19, being Easter eve, (fn. 56) the archbishop, prior and monks entered the new choir, with a solemn procession, singing Te Deum, for their happy return to it. Three days before which they had privately, by night, carried the bodies of St. Dunstan and St. Alphage to the places prepared for them near the high altar. The body likewise of queen Edive (which after the fire had been removed from the north cross isle, where it lay before, under a stately gilded shrine) to the altar of the great cross, was taken up, carried into the vestry, and thence to the altar of St. Martin, where it was placed under the coffin of archbishop Livinge. In the month of July following the altar of the Holy Trinity was demolished, and the bodies of those archbishops, which had been laid in that part of the church, were removed to other places. Odo's body was laid under St. Dunstan's and Wilfrid's under St. Alphage's; Lanfranc's was deposited nigh the altar of St. Martin, and Theobald's at that of the blessed Virgin, in the nave of the church, (fn. 57) under a marble tomb; and soon afterwards the two archbishops, on the right and left hand of archbishop Becket in the undercrost, were taken up and placed under the altar of St. Mary there. (fn. 58)
After a warning so terrible, as had lately been given, it seemed most necessary to provide against the danger of fire for the time to come; the flames, which had so lately destroyed a considerable part of the church and monastery, were caused by some small houses, which had taken fire at a small distance from the church.— There still remained some other houses near it, which belonged to the abbot and convent of St. Augustine; for these the monks of Christ-church created, by an exchange, which could not be effected till the king interposed, and by his royal authority, in a manner, compelled the abbot and convent to a composition for this purpose, which was dated in the year 1177, that was three years after the late fire of this church. (fn. 59)
These houses were immediately pulled down, and it proved a providential and an effectual means of preserving the church from the like calamity; for in the year 1180, on May 22, this new choir, being not then compleated, though it had been used the month be fore, as has been already mentioned, there happened a fire in the city, which burnt down many houses, and the flames bent their course towards the church, which was again in great danger; but the houses near it being taken away, the fire was stopped, and the church escaped being burnt again. (fn. 60)
Although there is no mention of a new dedication of the church at this time, yet the change made in the name of it has been thought by some to imply a formal solemnity of this kind, as it appears to have been from henceforth usually called the church of St. Thomas the Martyr, and to have continued so for above 350 years afterwards.
New names to churches, it is true. have been usually attended by formal consecrations of them; and had there been any such solemnity here, undoubtedly the same would not have passed by unnoticed by every historian, the circumstance of it must have been notorious, and the magnificence equal at least to the other dedications of this church, which have been constantly mentioned by them; but here was no need of any such ceremony, for although the general voice then burst forth to honour this church with the name of St. Thomas, the universal object of praise and adoration, then stiled the glorious martyr, yet it reached no further, for the name it had received at the former dedication, notwithstanding this common appellation of it, still remained in reality, and it still retained invariably in all records and writings, the name of Christ church only, as appears by many such remaining among the archives of the dean and chapter; and though on the seal of this church, which was changed about this time; the counter side of it had a representation of Becket's martyrdom, yet on the front of it was continued that of the church, and round it an inscription with the former name of Christ church; which seal remained in force till the dissolution of the priory.
It may not be improper to mention here some transactions, worthy of observation, relating to this favorite saint, which passed from the time of his being murdered, to that of his translation to the splendid shrine prepared for his relics.
Archbishop Thomas Becket was barbarously murdered in this church on Dec. 29, 1170, being the 16th year of king Henry II. and his body was privately buried towards the east end of the undercrost. The monks tell us, that about the Easter following, miracles began to be wrought by him, first at his tomb, then in the undercrost, and in every part of the whole fabric of the church; afterwards throughout England, and lastly, throughout the rest of the world. (fn. 61) The same of these miracles procured him the honour of a formal canonization from pope Alexander III. whose bull for that purpose is dated March 13, in the year 1172. (fn. 62) This declaration of the pope was soon known in all places, and the reports of his miracles were every where sounded abroad. (fn. 63)
Hereupon crowds of zealots, led on by a phrenzy of devotion, hastened to kneel at his tomb. In 1177, Philip, earl of Flanders, came hither for that purpose, when king Henry met and had a conference with him at Canterbury. (fn. 64) In June 1178, king Henry returning from Normandy, visited the sepulchre of this new saint; and in July following, William, archbishop of Rhemes, came from France, with a large retinue, to perform his vows to St. Thomas of Canterbury, where the king met him and received him honourably. In the year 1179, Lewis, king of France, came into England; before which neither he nor any of his predecessors had ever set foot in this kingdom. (fn. 65) He landed at Dover, where king Henry waited his arrival, and on August 23, the two kings came to Canterbury, with a great train of nobility of both nations, and were received with due honour and great joy, by the archbishop, with his com-provincial bishops, and the prior and the whole convent. (fn. 66)
King Lewis came in the manner and habit of a pilgrim, and was conducted to the tomb of St. Thomas by a solemn procession; he there offered his cup of gold and a royal precious stone, (fn. 67) and gave the convent a yearly rent for ever, of a hundred muids of wine, to be paid by himself and his successors; which grant was confirmed by his royal charter, under his seal, and delivered next day to the convent; (fn. 68) after he had staid here two, (fn. 69) or as others say, three days, (fn. 70) during which the oblations of gold and silver made were so great, that the relation of them almost exceeded credibility. (fn. 71) In 1181, king Henry, in his return from Normandy, again paid his devotions at this tomb. These visits were the early fruits of the adoration of the new sainted martyr, and these royal examples of kings and great persons were followed by multitudes, who crowded to present with full hands their oblations at his tomb.— Hence the convent was enabled to carry forward the building of the new choir, and they applied all this vast income to the fabric of the church, as the present case instantly required, for which they had the leave and consent of the archbishop, confirmed by the bulls of several succeeding popes. (fn. 72)
¶From the liberal oblations of these royal and noble personages at the tomb of St. Thomas, the expences of rebuilding the choir appear to have been in a great measure supplied, nor did their devotion and offerings to the new saint, after it was compleated, any ways abate, but, on the contrary, they daily increased; for in the year 1184, Philip, archbishop of Cologne, and Philip, earl of Flanders, came together to pay their vows at this tomb, and were met here by king Henry, who gave them an invitation to London. (fn. 73) In 1194, John, archbishop of Lions; in the year afterwards, John, archbishop of York; and in the year 1199, king John, performed their devotions at the foot of this tomb. (fn. 74) King Richard I. likewise, on his release from captivity in Germany, landing on the 30th of March at Sandwich, proceeded from thence, as an humble stranger on foot, towards Canterbury, to return his grateful thanks to God and St. Thomas for his release. (fn. 75) All these by name, with many nobles and multitudes of others, of all sorts and descriptions, visited the saint with humble adoration and rich oblations, whilst his body lay in the undercrost. In the mean time the chapel and altar at the upper part of the east end of the church, which had been formerly consecrated to the Holy Trinity, were demolished, and again prepared with great splendor, for the reception of this saint, who being now placed there, implanted his name not only on the chapel and altar, but on the whole church, which was from thenceforth known only by that of the church of St. Thomas the martyr.
On July 7, anno 1220, the remains of St. Thomas were translated from his tomb to his new shrine, with the greatest solemnity and rejoicings. Pandulph, the pope's legate, the archbishops of Canterbury and Rheims, and many bishops and abbots, carried the coffin on their shoulders, and placed it on the new shrine, and the king graced these solemnities with his royal presence. (fn. 76) The archbishop of Canterbury provided forage along all the road, between London and Canterbury, for the horses of all such as should come to them, and he caused several pipes and conduits to run with wine in different parts of the city. This, with the other expences arising during the time, was so great, that he left a debt on the see, which archbishop Boniface, his fourth successor in it, was hardly enabled to discharge.
¶The saint being now placed in his new repository, became the vain object of adoration to the deluded people, and afterwards numbers of licences were granted to strangers by the king, to visit this shrine. (fn. 77) The titles of glorious, of saint and martyr, were among those given to him; (fn. 78) such veneration had all people for his relics, that the religious of several cathedral churches and monasteries, used all their endeavours to obtain some of them, and thought themselves happy and rich in the possession of the smallest portion of them. (fn. 79) Besides this, there were erected and dedicated to his honour, many churches, chapels, altars and hospitals in different places, both in this kingdom and abroad. (fn. 80) Thus this saint, even whilst he lay in his obscure tomb in the undercroft, brought such large and constant supplies of money, as enabled the monks to finish this beautiful choir, and the eastern parts of the church; and when he was translated to the most exalted and honourable place in it, a still larger abundance of gain filled their coffers, which continued as a plentiful supply to them, from year to year, to the time of the reformation, and the final abolition of the priory itself.
Not so long ago, the main road from Dover to Sandwich passed right through the centre of Easty. Its narrow roads lined with parked cars must have been quite a bottle neck. But now the main road goes round and the cars can park was their owners want.
I visited Eastry many years ago, early in the Kent church project. So I am revisiting those first churches to see what I missed now I have a little knowledge of church architecture.
We park in the centre on the main road and walk down the dead end street to the church. It looks fine in the spring sunshine, flints glistening. It sits surrounded by gfand houses, most of which are listed.
Entrance is via a unique porch in the west end of the church, under the tower, where a porch has been fashioned from carved wood and leaded lights.
Upon entering you are greeted by the glory of the church, the chancel arch festooned with panels showing four different designs, but my eye is taken by the two quatrefoil cut outs either side.
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Set away from the main street but on one of the earliest sites in the village, flint-built Eastry church has an over restored appearance externally but this gives way to a noteworthy interior. Built in the early thirteenth century by its patrons, Christ Church Canterbury, it was always designed to be a statement of both faith and power. The nave has a clerestory above round piers whilst the east nave wall has a pair of quatrefoils pierced through into the chancel. However this feature pales into insignificance when one sees what stands between them - a square panel containing 35 round paintings in medallions. There are four deigns including the Lily for Our Lady; a dove; Lion; Griffin. They would have formed a backdrop to the Rood which would have been supported on a beam the corbels of which survive below the paintings. On the centre pier of the south aisle is a very rare feature - a beautifully inscribed perpetual calendar or `Dominical Circle` to help find the Dominical letter of the year. Dating from the fourteenth century it divides the calendar into a sequence of 28 years. The reredos is an alabaster structure dating from the Edwardian period - a rather out of place object in a church of this form, but a good piece of work in its own right. On the west wall is a good early 19th century Royal Arms with hatchments on either side and there are many good monuments both ledger slabs and hanging tablets. Of the latter the finest commemorates John Harvey who died in 1794. It shows his ship the Brunswick fighting with all guns blazing with the French ship the Vengeur. John Bacon carved the Elder this detailed piece of work.
www.kentchurches.info/church.asp?p=Eastry
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Above the Chancel Arch, enclosed within a rectangular frame, are rows of seven "medallion" wall paintings; the lower group was discovered in 1857 and the rest in 1903. They remained in a rather dilapidated state until the Canterbury Cathedral Wall Paintings Department brought them back to life.
The medallions are evidently of the 13th Century, having been painted while the mortar was still wet. Each medallion contains one of four motifs:
The trefoil flower, pictured left, is perhaps a symbol of the Blessed Virgin Mary to whom the church is dedicated; or symbolic of Christ.
The lion; symbolic of the Resurrection
Doves, either singly, or in pairs, represent the Holy Spirit
The Griffin represents evil, over which victory is won by the power of the Resurrection and the courage of the Christian.
www.ewbchurches.org.uk/eastrychurchhistory.htm
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There is a point in our lives when we, the children, become the adults in the relationship with our parents.
It will come for most of us, no one tells you this will happen, and you are unprepared for it. But it comes
And each of us has a different relationship with our parents than everyone else, what's right for me, and my views, do not apply to you.
Yesterday, was the funeral of the person I have known longer than anyone else on this earth, now that my family is all gone. Margaret and Brian were married a few weeks before mine, and moved into the new build bungalow also a few weeks before my parents.
They also had one child, a son, and Douglas and I have been friends longer than I have been friends with anyone else, although he is a year younger than me.
I have my views on Margaret, but the reason I travelled back to Suffolk for her funeral, was to be there for Douggie, and give him the support he has given me through three weddings and two funerals.
Norfolk isn't far away, and the funeral and wake were taking place just a mile or two over the border from Suffolk, but the roads beyond Ipswich are poor, twisty and where there are accidents or roadworks, no real alternative routes.
I was also leaving just before six, so had to get across the Thames at Dartford and up the A12 during rush hour, so it wouldn't be easy. But at least there would be no rain.
I was up at five, dressed and washed, with time to drink a coffee before leaving. Loading the car with me and my camera bag, as I had plans in case I had time, to visit a church or two.
It was dark up the M20 to Dartford, and busy with traffic, but I made good time, and listened to a loop of old music podcasts all day, so chat and music kept me awake.
I got onto the M25 with no problem, and through the tunnels with only a slight slowdown, but on the other side there were queues.
Despite not wanting to spend money on a new railway, there is always money for road and junction improvements, even if it will just increase traffic. So it is that the M25/A12 junction is being upgraded, and with narrow lanes, speed restrictions, jams began a good four miles before the roadworks started.
I forced my way to the left hand lane, which became a filter lane, meaning it was much quicker than the remaining four lanes. But then came the roundabout. The roundabout under the motorway is the reason the improvements are needed, and queueing traffic blocks the junctions and causes even more backlogs.
Of course, traffic lights on roundabouts are never good ideas, so I was confronted with a wall of traffic, so when the light went green, I went in front of a track before it could shuffle forward and block more of the junction, then there was some clear road.
And ducking into the extreme left hand lane, I dodged past the queuing traffic that was blocking the exit from the A12, and onto clear road.
Yay.
The sky was clear, the sun about to rise, and it was going to be a glorious day.
Just north of Chelmsford, I stopped for breakfast: two sausage rolls and a coffee from Greggs, then filled up the tank and on my way north.
More traffic at Ipswich where the A12 meets the A14 to get over the Orwell, but then clear traffic again after ten minutes delay.
Soon, though, the road narrows to two lane blacktop, and all is well until you meet a slower vehicle. Like a tractor as we did soon after Whickham Market.
For 15 long minutes the tractor lead a growing snake of cars along the winding lanes until it pulled over and we could get past.
Blythburgh was always the marker when travelling back from Ipswich or beyond, that we were nearly home. he handsome church sits high, for Suffolk, overlooking the village and river which is mostly mudflats.
The busy A12 skirts close, but you get to the church via a narrow land, leaving the modern world far behind.
The church opened at nine, it was nearly half past, it was probably open before nine, and was open when I pushed the porch door.
Inside is an unspoilt space, grey wood that have witnessed the centuries so that their vigour has faded to almost no colour of all.
Its the roof people come for. Wooden beams and pairs of wooden angels. I have brought my big lens so to snap them.
My plan was to visit the large and impressive church in Southwold. I turned off the A12 and drove along the straight road into the town, where I found multiple sets of roadworks, and few places to park for a short time, anywhere near the church.
My back is achy, so I wanted somewhere close to park. Anyway, I drove round the town twice, found nowhere to park, so turned the car round and headed back north, until I came to South Cove.
South Cove is a small village, a few farms really, but has a fine, if rustic, well-proportioned church, set in a large churchyard.
And the church was open, so small the wide angle lens wasn't needed, and with windows close to the floor too, no big lens needed either.
Next town up is Kessingland, which until the 80s had the A12 running through the centre of it, but now a bypass lays to the west and the village is quiet. I don't think I had been of the main street, so I went in search of the church, and found it on Church Street.
Obviously.
I rarely research churches before I visit, so nothing prepared me for the interior of St Edmund.
It seems in the last two years, they church had sourced some banners with apt slogans on, banners which were made to look like large tapered ensigns, hanging from or along the supports of the roof.
A man was practicing on the organ, and the notes echoed round the church. Not only does the church have banners, it has ship's wheels and other nautical stuff, although most traditionalists won't like it, I think it hangs together, and if the congregation wants it thus, who are we to argue?
Next stop was South Cove, which I had forgotten I had visited before, so redid all my shots. But this time did see the panel featuring St Michael behind the font, where the rood steps began.
A small, perfect, church, perfect for a small country parish.
I take my shots and leave, driving back onto the A12 and heading into Lowestoft, my main task was to drive over the new bridge which spans Lake Lothing.
The town had been waiting since at least 1966 for a new bridge, and the 3rd crossing was opened in September, and offers fine views as you drive across.
I went to see the old family home. It has been renovated and looks splendid, and not much like it was when sold four years back, it looks cared for and lived in, which is what the buyer promised us he would do.
So then to the crematorium, a drive north through Gunton and past Hopton where Dougie lives, then through the housing estate behind the area hospital to the car park, and then wait.
Margaret was 89, had a long life, but friends of the same age are few, and families are now scattered. So, one can never be sure how many will attend. The chapel was half full at least, with people coming from Kent, Wiltshire and even California to be there.
The celebrant spoke for twenty minutes, saying nice things as they have to do. But, avoiding, or just hinting at faults. Whatever she had done in her life to Dougie, he still loved her, and he was in bits.
Afterward we lined up to shake his hand or give him and Pennie a hug, and allowed me to tell him he was the brother I never had. He was always there for me, and will be there for him.
More tears.
There was a wake at the pub in Hopton, but there was no one I knew other than Dougie and Penny, so I had a drink and made my excuses. These things are really for family and close friends, so I left at quarter to three, hoping to get home before midnight.
In the end, I made good time, I was going round Ipswich before four, and at the M25 junction less than an hour later, and was able to easily join it and zoom round to the bridge. No queues on the southbound side, but the queue northbound went all the way back to the M20 junction, so six mines.
I zoomed on.
I got home at ten past six, happy to have done it and go home in under three and a half hours. Dinner was defrosted ragu, pasta and reheated focaccia, which we were sitting down to eat twenty minutes after getting in.
Phew.
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Perhaps some counties have a church which sums them up. If there has to be one for Suffolk, it must be the church of the Most Holy Trinity, Blythburgh. Here is the late medieval Suffolk imagination writ large, as large as it gets, and not overwritten by the Anglican triumphalism of the 19th century. Blythburgh church is often compared with its near neighbour, St Edmund at Southwold, but this isn't a fair comparison - Southwold church is much grander, and full of urban confidence. Probably a better comparison is with St Margaret, Lowestoft, for there, too, the Reformation intervened before the tower could be rebuilt. The two churches have a lot in common, but Blythburgh has the saving grace. It is so fascinating, so stunningly beautiful, by virtue of a factor that is rare in Anglican parish churches: sheer neglect.
Holy Trinity, Blythburgh, is the church that Suffolk people know and love best, and because of this it has generated some extraordinary legends. The first is that Blythburgh, now a tiny village bisected by the fearsome A12 between London and the east coast ports, was once a thriving medieval town. This idea is used to explain the size of the church; in reality, it is almost certainly not the case. Blythburgh has always been small. But it did have an important medieval priory, and thus its church attracted enough wealthy piety on the eve of the Reformation to bankroll a spectacular rebuilding.
It is to Lavenham, Long Melford, Mildenhall, Southwold and here that we come to see the late 15th century Suffolk aesthetic in perfection. But for my money, Holy Trinity, Blythburgh, is the most significant medieval art object in the county, ranking alongside Salle in Norfolk. Look up at the clerestory; it seems impossible, there is so much glass, so little stone; and yet it rides the building with an air of permanence. Beneath, there is a coyness about the aisles that I prefer to the mathematics of Lavenham. Here, it could not have been done otherwise; it distils human architectural experience. If St Peter and St Paul at Lavenham is man talking to God, Holy Trinity at Blythburgh is God talking to man.
At the east end, a curious series of initials in Lombardic script stretch across the outer chancel wall. You can see an image of this at the top. It reads A-N-JS-B-S-T-M-S-A-H-K-R. This probably stands for Ad Nomina JesuS, Beati Sanctae Trinitas, Maria Sanctorem Anne Honorem Katherine Reconstructus ('In the name of the blessed Jesus, the Holy Trinity, and in honour of Holy Mary, Anne and Katherine, this was rebuilt'). A fanciful theory is that they are the initials of the wives of the donors. However, note the symbol of the Trinity in the T stone, and I think this is a clue to the whole piece.
Figures stand on pedestals atop the south side and east end. The most easterly is unusual, a crowned old man sitting on a throne directly on the gable end. This is a medieval image of God the Father, a rare survival. Moving westwards from here we find the Blessed Virgin in prayerful pose, Christ as the Saviour of the World holding an orb in one hand and blessing with the other, and then a collared bear with a ragged staff, a seated woodwose, another bear, this time with a collar and bell, and last of all a fox with a goose in its mouth, his jaws grasping the neck:
The porch is part of the late 15th century rebuilding, but it was considerably restored in the early 20th century. Interestingly, the angels crowning the battlements look medieval - but they weren't there in 1900, so must have come from somewhere else. Pretty much all the porch's features of interest date from this time. These include the small medieval font pressed into service as a holy water stoup, and image niche above the doors. This has been filled in more recent years by an image if the Holy Trinity; God the Father holds the Son suspended while a dove representing the Holy Spirit alights; you can see medieval versions of this at Framlingham and Little Glemham. Of all medieval imagery, this was the most frowned upon by puritans. An image of God the Father was thought the most suspicious of all idolatries. Indeed, as late as the 1870s, when the Reverend White edited the first popular edition of the Diary of William Dowsing, he actually congratulated Dowsing on destroying images of the Holy Trinity in the course of his 1644 progress through the counties of Suffolk and Cambridgeshire.
William Dowsing visited on the morning on April 9th, 1644. It was a Tuesday, and he had spent most of the week in the area. The previous day he'd been at Southwold and Walberswick to the east, but preceded his visit here with one to Blyford, which lies to the west, so he was probably staying overnight at the family home in Laxfield. He found twenty images in stained glass to take to task (a surprisingly small number, given the size of the place) and two hundred more that were inaccessible that morning (probably in the great east window). Three brass inscriptions incurred his wrath (but again, this is curious; there were many more) and he also ordered down the cross on the porch and the cross on the tower. Most significantly of all, he decided the angels in the roof should go.
Lots of Suffolk churches have angels in their roofs. None are like Blythburgh's. You step inside, and there they are, exactly as you've seen them in books and in photographs. They are awesome, breathtaking. There are twelve of them. Perhaps there were once twenty. How would you get them down if ordered to do so? The roof is so high, and the stencilling of IHS symbols would also have to go.
Perhaps this was already indistinct by the time Dowsing visited. Perhaps Tuesday, 9th of April 1644 was a dull day.
Several of the angels are peppered with lead shot. Here is another of those Suffolk legends; that Dowsing and the churchwardens fired muskets at the angels to try and bring them down. But when the angels were restored in the 1970s, the lead shot removed was found to be 18th century; contemporary with them there is a note in the churchwardens accounts that men were paid for shooting jackdaws living inside the building, so that probably explains where the shot came from. Here are some details of that wonderful roof:
The otherwise splendid church guide also repeats the error that the Holy Trinity symbol in the porch filled a gap that had been 'empty since 1644'. But there was certainly no image in it when Dowsing arrived here, or anywhere else in Suffolk; statues were completely outlawed by injunctions in the early years of the reign of Edward VI, almost a hundred years before the morning of Dowsing's visit.
Another feature used as evidence of puritan destruction is the ring fixed into the most westerly pillar of the north arcade. Cromwell's men stabled their horses here, apparently. Well, it almost certainly is a ring for tying horses to, and the broken bricks at the cleared west end also suggest this; but there is no reason to think that Cromwell and the puritans were responsible. For a full century before Cromwell, and for nearly two hundred years afterwards, a church as big as this would have had a multitude of uses. Holy Trinity was built for the rituals of the Catholic church; once these were no longer allowed, a village like Blythburgh, which can never have had more than 500 people, would have seen it as an asset in other ways. It was only with the 19th century sacramental revival brought about by the Oxford Movement that we started getting all holy again about our parish churches. Perhaps it was used as an overnight stables for passing travellers on the main road; not an un-Christian use for it to be put to, I think.
In August 1577, a great storm brought down the steeple, which fell into the church and damaged the font. This was at the height of Elizabethan superstition, and the devil was blamed; his hoof marks can still be seen on the church door. Supposedly, a black dog ran through the church, killing two parishioners; he was seen the same day at St Mary, Bungay. Black Shuck is the East Anglian devil dog, the feared hound of the marshes; and Holy Trinity is the self-styled Cathedral of the Marshes, so it is appropriate that he appeared here. You can see where the font has been broken. You can also see that this was one of the rare, beautiful seven sacrament fonts, similar in style to the one at Westhall; but, like those at neighbouring Wenhaston and Southwold, it has been completely stripped of imagery. Almost certainly, this was in the 1540s, but there is a story that the font at Wenhaston was chiselled clean as part of the 19th century restoration. More importantly in any case, the storm, or the dog, or the devil, damaged the roof; it would not be properly repaired for more than 400 years. Throughout the 17th and 18th centuries, accounts note that Holy Trinity is not impregnable to the weather. By the 19th century, parishioners attended divine service with umbrellas. By the 1880s, it was a positively dangerous building to be in, and the Bishop of Norwich ordered it closed.
Why had Holy Trinity not been restored? Simply, this is a big church, with a tiny village. There was no rich patron, and in any case the parishioners had a passion for Methodism. Probably, repairs had been mooted, but not a wholesale restoration as we have seen at Lavenham, Long Melford and Southwold. By the 1880s, attention in England had turned to the preservation of medieval detail; in short, restorations were not as ignorant as they had been a quarter of a century earlier. Suggestions that Holy Trinity should be restored in the manner of the other three were blocked by the Society for the Preservation of Ancient Buildings, and this owed a lot to the energy of William Morris, the Society's secretary.
The slow, patient restoration of this building took the best part of a century; indeed, when I first visited in the 1980s I was still aware of a sense of decay.
Nothing could be further from the truth today. You step into a wide, white, open space, one of England's great church interiors. There, high above you, is the glorious roof and the angels of God. The brick floors spread around the scraped font, which still bears its dedicatory inscription and standing places for participants. You turn into the central gangway, and more than twenty empty indents for brasses stretch before you. Dowsing can be blamed for the destruction of hardly any of them. In reality, you see the work of 18th and 19th century thieves and collectors.
The bench-ends are superb. The benches themselves were reconstructed in the late 19th century, supposedly from the main post of Westleton windmill, but the ends are some of the county's finest medieval images. There are partial sets of basically three series: the Seven Deadly Sins, the Seven Works of Mercy, and the Labours of the Seasons. There are also angels bearing symbols of the Holy Trinity and the Crown. There are other figures too, obscure and fragmentary and whose purpose is unclear, as if surviving figments of a broken dream. The quality of what remains makes you grieve for what has been lost.
The rood screen is a disappointment; most of it is modern, and the medieval bits perfunctory and scoured. Having said this, note how tiny the exit from the north aisle rood loft stair is. Also at this end of the church, a scattering of medieval glass, mainly angels. There is more in the south aisle, including a collection of shields of the Holy Trinity:
But step through the central aisle to see something remarkable. The priest and choir stalls are fronted by exquisite carvings of the Apostles, the Evangelists, John the Baptist, St Stephen, Mary Queen of Heaven and Christ in Majesty. Seeing these eighteen carvings is a bit like gobbling up a very large box of chocolates, but it is worth stopping to consider quite how genuine they all are. For a start, there could not have been choir stalls here in medieval times, and in any case we know that these desks and their frontages were in the north aisle chapel until the 19th century. They were used as school benches in the 17th century; they still bear holes for inkpots, and the graffiti of a bored Dutch child (his father was probably working on draining the marshes) is dated 1665. There is nothing at all like them anywhere else in Suffolk.
Whatever, the east end of the chancel and aisles are thrillingly modern, wholly devotional. In the north aisle, traditionally the Hopton chantry, extraordinary friezes of skeletons become symbols of the four evangelists behind the altar. Beside them is Peter Ball's beautiful Madonna and Child. Separating the south aisle chapel from the sanctuary is is one of Suffolk's biggest Easter sepulchres, tomb of the Hoptons. Behind the high altar, branches arranged like huge stag antlers spread dramatically. It is all just about perfect. Tucked to one side of the organ is a clockjack; Suffolk has two, and the other is down-river at Southwold. They date from the late 17th century, and presumably once struck the hours; at high church Blythburgh and Southwold today, they are used to announce the entry of the ministers.
This is a wonderful church to wander around in, the light and the air changing with the seasons, a suffused sense of the numinous presenting its different faces according to the time of day and time of year. Come here on a bright spring morning, or in the drowsy heat of a summer's day. Come on a cold winter afternoon as the colours fade and the smell of woodsmoke from neighbouring cottages weaves a spell above the old stone floors and woodwork. And before you leave, find the doorway in the south-west corner of the nave. It opens onto a low, narrow stairway. You can go up it. It leads up into the parvise storey of the south porch, now reappointed and dedicated as a tiny chapel, a peaceful spot to spend a few moments before continuing your journey.
You may be reading this entry in a far-off land; or perhaps you are here at home. Whatever, if you have not visited this church, then I urge you to do so. It is the most beautiful church in Suffolk, a wonderful art object, and it is always open in daylight. It remains one of the most significant medieval buildings in England. If you only visit one of Suffolk's churches, then make it this one
Simon Knott, 2014.
A roped mage carries two twin flames united in the arc, crossing the Jordan one day of a sun playing a clever game of shadow in Chartres. The symbolism of the portal is based on the Ark of the Covenant, represented twice twice, with an engraved text that suggests "you will work through the Ark". Let me remind you in passing that this cathedral is the only French monument
monument located on a double crossing of gold, i.e. on the Magic Square of the Earth. of the Earth. Silver and copper intersect at the centre of the portal. The Silver Cord connects us to our higher self from the Solar Plexus Chakra, which is positioned closely to the Heart Chakra and passes energy through the heart space.
What is the Silver Cord?
The silver cord, also known as the astral cord, is what tethers your higher self in the spiritual plane to your physical self here in the material world. The silver cord connects your physical body to your etheric body, and up through your astral body.
To charge the Ark "capacitor", all that would have been required would have been for the Priests to carry the Ark through the desert. The combination of the desert heat an friction would create static electricity, which could be effectively stored in the Ark. This charging of the Ark would explain a number of mysteries surrounding the Ark. The first being the need to wrap the Ark in animal skins and fine cloth as a means of 'protection'. This procedure needed to be done in exactly the correct way to ensure the Ark was safe for transportation. This was marked by a lowering point, the transition between the low-energy part of the church and the start of the progression towards high energy. This stream of water. symbolised the Jordan that Jesus had crossed, rather like another crossing the the Rubicon, passing abruptly from a totally discreet life of study to a public life public life. The "crossing of the Jordan" is, for each of us. access to the first of the three planes of consciousness. All philosophies and religions consider that man can rise to spirituality through three successive stages: from the plant to the human and then to the divine in the search for the Grail, from the world of passions (physical) to the world of appearances (spirit) and then to the world of non-appearance (soul) in the search for the Holy Grail.
world of appearances (spirit) and then to the world of non-appearance (soul) for Buddhists, and from the rectangle of physical life to the square of spiritual life and then to the circle of divine life (soul) for Christians. ⁶ Remember your Creator now while you are young, before the silver cord of life snaps and the golden bowl is broken. Don’t wait until the water jar is smashed at the spring and the pulley is broken at the well. ⁷ For then the dust will return to the earth, and the spirit will return to God who gave it.
Ecclesiastes 12:6
What's more, it seems that the layout of Chartres takes this element into account. of this element: by tracing, from the centre of the labyrinth, two straight lines tangent to the circle of the apse, a triangle is created, derived from the pentagram. This is not by chance. Remember that the sides of this triangle are in the ratio of the golden section. It is also the basis of the cathedral's regulatory layout.
Geobiological analysis
In this immense cathedral, it was a great surprise to discover that the building's geobiological support was a rather miserable stream of water, not at all on the scale of the monument, located 37 metres below ground. In its defence, this stream of water is perfectly rectilinear in this part of its course. in this part of its course, which is an undeniable asset. What's more, it is strongly felt. So it's easy to understand why the backbone of the vaults has also been placed at a height of 37 metres, for the sake of energy balance, yin and yang.. Tau-shaped route, made up of two independent stepped sections that fit together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, and a second, in the shape of an ankh cross. The two assembled parts of the Tau manifest the two complementary energies, yin and yang, masculine and
feminine. This is wholeness. It comes from Alexandria and the Essenes.
www.georgesprat.com/telechargements/larchitectureinvisibl...
This would also explain the need to keep the Ark hidden in total darkness when not being used, and the need to carry it long distances before it produced its magic (the seven days around the walls of Jericho?). This would also solve the mystery surrounding the death of anyone who touched the Ark. If the Ark was touched while charged it could have proved instantly fatal. However, if touched while not charged there would be no effect (something the High Priest may have known).
pe2bz.philpem.me.uk/Comm01/-%20-%20Parts-NonActive/Capaci...
A typical electrical capacitor is described as being a non-conductive material surrounded by two conductive material. This is an exact description of the Ark itself (refer to the drawing below). If the inner layer of gold were to become positivily charged and the outer layer negativily charged then the whole shell of the Ark would become a charged capacitor.Biblical account
Part of a series on the
Ten Commandments
I am the LORD thy God
No other gods before me
No graven images or likenesses
Not take the LORD's name in vain
Remember the sabbath day
Honour thy father and thy mother
Thou shalt not kill
Thou shalt not commit adultery
Thou shalt not steal
Thou shalt not bear false witness
Thou shalt not covet
Related articles
Tablets of Stone
Ritual Decalogue
Finger of God
Moses
Ark of the Covenant
Mount Sinai
In Catholic theology
vte
Construction and description
According to the Book of Exodus, God instructed Moses to build the Ark during his 40-day stay upon Mount Sinai.[6][7] He was shown the pattern for the tabernacle and furnishings of the Ark, and told that it would be made of shittim wood (also known as acacia wood)[8] to house the Tablets of Stone.[8] Moses instructed Bezalel and Aholiab to construct the Ark.[9][10][11]
The Book of Exodus gives detailed instructions on how the Ark is to be constructed.[12] It is to be 2+1⁄2 cubits in length, 1+1⁄2 cubits breadth, and 1+1⁄2 cubits height (approximately 131×79×79 cm or 52×31×31 in) of acacia wood. Then it is to be gilded entirely with gold, and a crown or molding of gold is to be put around it. Four rings of gold are to be attached to its four corners, two on each side—and through these rings staves of shittim wood overlaid with gold for carrying the Ark are to be inserted; and these are not to be removed.[13] A golden lid, the kapporet (translated as 'mercy seat' or 'cover'), which is ornamented with two golden cherubim, is to be placed above the Ark. Missing from the account are instructions concerning the thickness of the mercy seat and details about the cherubim other than that the cover be beaten out over the ends of the Ark and that they form the space where God will appear. The Ark is finally to be placed under a veil to conceal it.
Mobile vanguard
The biblical account continues that, after its creation by Moses, the Ark was carried by the Israelites during their 40 years of wandering in the desert. Whenever the Israelites camped, the Ark was placed in a separate room in a sacred tent, called the Tabernacle.
When the Israelites, led by Joshua toward the Promised Land, arrived at the banks of the River Jordan, the Ark was carried in the lead, preceding the people, and was the signal for their advance.[14][15] During the crossing, the river grew dry as soon as the feet of the priests carrying the Ark touched its waters, and remained so until the priests—with the Ark—left the river after the people had passed over.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ark_of_the_Covenant
Silver cord
The silver cord in metaphysical studies and literature, also known as the sutratma or life thread of the antahkarana, refers to a life-giving linkage from the higher self (atma) down to the physical body. It also refers to an extended synthesis of this thread and a second (the consciousness thread, passing from the soul to the physical body) that connects the physical body to the etheric body, onwards to the astral body and finally to the mental body.[1][unreliable source?]
In other research, it is described as a strong, silver-colored, elastic cord which joins a person's physical body to its astral body (a manifestation of the physical body that is less distinct).[2][unreliable source?]
Alfred Ballabene, an astral projector, reported observing that during his out-of-body experiences "glue-like strings" appear as the astral body tries to separate itself from the physical body. As the astral body moves further away from the tangible body, some of the strings break apart and clump into a specific and smaller region – preferably the head, breast, back, stomach, and the abdomen area – thus forming the silver cord.[3]
Astral projection
During astral projection and out-of-body experiences, some[citation needed] claim they can (at will or otherwise) see a silver cord linking their astral form to their physical body. This cord mainly appears to a beginning projector as an assurance they will not become lost.[citation needed] However, even experienced projectors find it useful, claiming it is a fast way to return to the body.[citation needed] Bellallabene, unlike some astral projectors who claim to travel great distances,[citation needed], stated that the cord not only serves as a link between the two bodies, but it also limits the astral body from wandering great distances, describing his experience that as the astral body moves farther away from the physical body and reaches a distance of "50 to 70 meters," the silver cord pulls the astral form right back into the physical body.[3]
Others asserted, though, that the cases of silver cord observations during out-of-body experiences and astral projections are rare;[2][unreliable source?] rather, no astral body is observed and the projector sees himself or herself as a "disembodied awareness or a point of view" in most cases.[4]
Passing through a tunnel is compared to the birth canal, and the silver cord resembling the umbilical cord – these are a few observations during out-of-body experiences that are sometimes likened to childbirth. "Birth theories" hypothesized that people who were delivered by Caesarean section do not have tunnel experiences during astral projections. On the contrary, one study showed that there is no discrepancy between the experiences observed by people who are born through Caesarean section and those born naturally during their OBE or astral projection.[4]
The attachment point of the cord to the astral body differs, not only between projectors, but also from projection to projection. These points correspond to major chakra positions. According to the observations of Robert Bruce, there is not a single point of connection to the denser body, but rather a locally converging collection of strands leading out of all the major chakras, and some minor ones (Astral Dynamics, p398).
The silver cord is mentioned by mystics, especially in contexts of dying and of near-death experiences.[citation needed] It is said that the cord must remain connected to the astral and the physical bodies during the projection because if it breaks, the projector will die. If a person gets older or if their death is near, the astral body slowly separates itself from the physical body and the silver cord breaks, making a complete and irreversible separation of the two bodies. In this situation, the idea of death and dying is interpreted as a "permanent astral projection" that cannot be undone.[2][unreliable source?]
Theosophical writings also interpret the words of some prophets and soothsayers in ancient times as descriptions of seeing the silver cord during their out-of-body experiences.[5][unreliable source?]
Origin of the term
The term is derived from Ecclesiastes 12:6-7 in the Jewish Bible or Christian Old Testament.
As translated from the original Hebrew in The Complete Tanakh:[6]
"Before the silver cord snaps, and the golden fountain is shattered, and the pitcher breaks at the fountain, and the wheel falls shattered into the pit. And the dust returns to the earth as it was, and the spirit returns to God, Who gave it."
As rendered in the Authorised Version:
"Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern. Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was: and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it."
Or from the New International Version:
"Remember him—before the silver cord is severed, or the golden bowl is broken; before the pitcher is shattered at the spring, or the wheel broken at the well, and the dust returns to the ground it came from, and the spirit returns to God who gave it."
These verses, Ecclesiastes 12:6-7, are variously translated, and there is a lack of consensus among Bible commentators as to its meaning. Matthew Henry's commentary, for example, states that the silver cord refers simply to the "spinal marrow."[7]
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Silver_cord
The Silver Cord in Twin Flames
Twin Flames share this cord and are forever connected through it, similar to the constellation of Pisces, which shows two fish swimming in opposite directions, but forever bound together by the silver cord (in astrology, the cord in Pisces is referred to as the golden thread). The Twin Flame silver cord is eternal and impossible to break. This is how Twin Flames remain connected during separation, including if a Twin Flame dies or if only one Twin is incarnated on Earth.
While cord cutting is a helpful practice to break bonds with people at the soul level, you cannot cut the silver cord to your Twin Flame. Since Twin Flames share the same silver cord, your Twin’s cord is your cord, and you cannot cut your own cord. Or in the case of monadic Twin Flames, who may not share cords, chakra systems, or higher selves, the divinity of a Twin Flame silver cord is absolute, infinite, and protected by the principles of the Universe.
Not so long ago, the main road from Dover to Sandwich passed right through the centre of Easty. Its narrow roads lined with parked cars must have been quite a bottle neck. But now the main road goes round and the cars can park was their owners want.
I visited Eastry many years ago, early in the Kent church project. So I am revisiting those first churches to see what I missed now I have a little knowledge of church architecture.
We park in the centre on the main road and walk down the dead end street to the church. It looks fine in the spring sunshine, flints glistening. It sits surrounded by gfand houses, most of which are listed.
Entrance is via a unique porch in the west end of the church, under the tower, where a porch has been fashioned from carved wood and leaded lights.
Upon entering you are greeted by the glory of the church, the chancel arch festooned with panels showing four different designs, but my eye is taken by the two quatrefoil cut outs either side.
-------------------------------------------
Set away from the main street but on one of the earliest sites in the village, flint-built Eastry church has an over restored appearance externally but this gives way to a noteworthy interior. Built in the early thirteenth century by its patrons, Christ Church Canterbury, it was always designed to be a statement of both faith and power. The nave has a clerestory above round piers whilst the east nave wall has a pair of quatrefoils pierced through into the chancel. However this feature pales into insignificance when one sees what stands between them - a square panel containing 35 round paintings in medallions. There are four deigns including the Lily for Our Lady; a dove; Lion; Griffin. They would have formed a backdrop to the Rood which would have been supported on a beam the corbels of which survive below the paintings. On the centre pier of the south aisle is a very rare feature - a beautifully inscribed perpetual calendar or `Dominical Circle` to help find the Dominical letter of the year. Dating from the fourteenth century it divides the calendar into a sequence of 28 years. The reredos is an alabaster structure dating from the Edwardian period - a rather out of place object in a church of this form, but a good piece of work in its own right. On the west wall is a good early 19th century Royal Arms with hatchments on either side and there are many good monuments both ledger slabs and hanging tablets. Of the latter the finest commemorates John Harvey who died in 1794. It shows his ship the Brunswick fighting with all guns blazing with the French ship the Vengeur. John Bacon carved the Elder this detailed piece of work.
www.kentchurches.info/church.asp?p=Eastry
------------------------------------------
Above the Chancel Arch, enclosed within a rectangular frame, are rows of seven "medallion" wall paintings; the lower group was discovered in 1857 and the rest in 1903. They remained in a rather dilapidated state until the Canterbury Cathedral Wall Paintings Department brought them back to life.
The medallions are evidently of the 13th Century, having been painted while the mortar was still wet. Each medallion contains one of four motifs:
The trefoil flower, pictured left, is perhaps a symbol of the Blessed Virgin Mary to whom the church is dedicated; or symbolic of Christ.
The lion; symbolic of the Resurrection
Doves, either singly, or in pairs, represent the Holy Spirit
The Griffin represents evil, over which victory is won by the power of the Resurrection and the courage of the Christian.
www.ewbchurches.org.uk/eastrychurchhistory.htm
-----------------------------------------
"Meditation should be practised every day of one’s life. Look, what is there in this world? Absolutely nothing that is lasting; therefore direct your longing towards the Eternal. Pray that the work done through you, His instrument, may be pure. In every action remember Him. The purer your thinking, the finer will be your work. In this world you get a thing, and by tomorrow it may be gone. This is why your life should be spent in a spirit of service; feel that the Lord is accepting services from you in whatever you do. If you desire peace you must cherish the thought of Him."
I recieved the text in an email from my good friend Adrienne Gonsalves at Facebook..
I shot the picture many years back of my favorite church in Bandra.. St Peters Church.
The Jesuit priests were kind enough to let me roam freely with my camera and the Holy Spirit was an interesting candidate as a model as I began learning photography..
I shot pictures here on my favorite side film Velvia 50...the ultimate by Fuji.
Now the text from Adriennes mail
From: CLaTouche@uwgt.org
Re: the killing and atrocities perpetrated in India against the Christians……Very very interesting …! And amazing coming from a Sikh, albeit a very learned journalist.
KHUSHWANT'S ARTICLE
Jesus had no servants, yet they
called Him Master.
Had no degree, yet they called Him Teacher.
Had no medicines, yet they called Him Healer.
Had no army, yet kings feared Him..
He won no military battles, yet He conquered the world.
He committed no crime, yet they crucified Him.
He was buried in a tomb, yet He lives today.
Feel honored to serve such a Leader who loves us.
KHUSWANT'S ARTICLEOctober 03, 2008
Faith, no more
Recent incidents of violence and vandalism against
Christians and their churches deserve to be condemned
unreservedly. They have blackened the fair face of Mother
India and ruined the reputation of Hindus being the most
religiously tolerant people in the world. At the same time,
we must take a closer look at people who convert from one
faith to another.
To start with, let it be understood that these days there
are no forced conversions anywhere in the world. India is no
exception. Those who assert that the poor, innocent and
ignorant of India are being forced to accept Christianity
are blatant liars. A few, very few educated and well-to-do
men and women convert to another faith when they do not find
solace in the faith of their ancestors. Examples are to be
found in America and Europe of men and women of substance> turning from Judaism and Christianity to Buddhism, Hinduism,> Islam and Sikhism.> > There are also men and women who convert to the faith of> those they wish to marry. We have plenty of cases of Hindu,> Muslim, Christian and Sikh inter-marriages. However, the> largest number of converts come from communities> discriminated against. The outstanding example was that of> Dalit leader Bhimrao Ambedkar who led his Mahar community to> embrace Buddhism because they were discriminated against by> upper caste Hindus. This is also true of over 90 per cent of> Indian Muslims whose ancestors being lower caste embraced> Islam which gave them equal status. That gives lie to the> often-repeated slander that Islam made converts by the> sword. > > An equally large number of people converted
out of> gratitude. They were neglected, ignorant and poor. When> strangers came to look after them, opened schools and> hospitals for them, taught them, healed them and helped them> to stand on their own feet to hold their heads high, they> felt grateful towards their benefactors. Most of them were> Christian missionaries who worked in remote villages and> brought hope to the lives of people who were deprived of> hope.
To this day, Christian missionaries run the best schools,colleges and hospitals in our country. They are inexpensive and free of corruption. They get converts because of the> sense of gratitude they generate. Can this be called forcible conversion? Why don't the great champions of Hinduism look within their hearts and find out why so many are disenchanted by their pretensions of piety? Let them first set their
own houses in order, purge the caste system out of Hindu society and welcome with open arms all those who wish to join them.
No one will then convert from Hinduism to another religion.> > Khuswant Singh
my poem
conversion
hyped up state of mind
greater than all religion
is the religion of respect
the human binding religion
called MANKIND.
Hindus , Muslims Christians Sikhs Parsis Jains Buddhist even the non believer
as human bind
Faith that can kill , faith that can heal, faith that can stir the human soul
is often color blind
If you cannot love man whom you see
how can you love a god you dont see
to the bigot I must remind
kandhamal
a slap on the face of our nation
as mayhem, killing rape arson
unwinds
the politicians making
hay while the sun shines
read the profitiabilty
between the two lines
this is what the religion of hate
using the excuse of a Swamis killing
forced conversion
defines
making our own brethren homless
in a land of peace
now a battlefield of mines
lord jagganaths homeland
peace hope harmony love
for all combines
the very nature of mans evil
undermines
Not so long ago, the main road from Dover to Sandwich passed right through the centre of Easty. Its narrow roads lined with parked cars must have been quite a bottle neck. But now the main road goes round and the cars can park was their owners want.
I visited Eastry many years ago, early in the Kent church project. So I am revisiting those first churches to see what I missed now I have a little knowledge of church architecture.
We park in the centre on the main road and walk down the dead end street to the church. It looks fine in the spring sunshine, flints glistening. It sits surrounded by gfand houses, most of which are listed.
Entrance is via a unique porch in the west end of the church, under the tower, where a porch has been fashioned from carved wood and leaded lights.
Upon entering you are greeted by the glory of the church, the chancel arch festooned with panels showing four different designs, but my eye is taken by the two quatrefoil cut outs either side.
-------------------------------------------
Set away from the main street but on one of the earliest sites in the village, flint-built Eastry church has an over restored appearance externally but this gives way to a noteworthy interior. Built in the early thirteenth century by its patrons, Christ Church Canterbury, it was always designed to be a statement of both faith and power. The nave has a clerestory above round piers whilst the east nave wall has a pair of quatrefoils pierced through into the chancel. However this feature pales into insignificance when one sees what stands between them - a square panel containing 35 round paintings in medallions. There are four deigns including the Lily for Our Lady; a dove; Lion; Griffin. They would have formed a backdrop to the Rood which would have been supported on a beam the corbels of which survive below the paintings. On the centre pier of the south aisle is a very rare feature - a beautifully inscribed perpetual calendar or `Dominical Circle` to help find the Dominical letter of the year. Dating from the fourteenth century it divides the calendar into a sequence of 28 years. The reredos is an alabaster structure dating from the Edwardian period - a rather out of place object in a church of this form, but a good piece of work in its own right. On the west wall is a good early 19th century Royal Arms with hatchments on either side and there are many good monuments both ledger slabs and hanging tablets. Of the latter the finest commemorates John Harvey who died in 1794. It shows his ship the Brunswick fighting with all guns blazing with the French ship the Vengeur. John Bacon carved the Elder this detailed piece of work.
www.kentchurches.info/church.asp?p=Eastry
------------------------------------------
Above the Chancel Arch, enclosed within a rectangular frame, are rows of seven "medallion" wall paintings; the lower group was discovered in 1857 and the rest in 1903. They remained in a rather dilapidated state until the Canterbury Cathedral Wall Paintings Department brought them back to life.
The medallions are evidently of the 13th Century, having been painted while the mortar was still wet. Each medallion contains one of four motifs:
The trefoil flower, pictured left, is perhaps a symbol of the Blessed Virgin Mary to whom the church is dedicated; or symbolic of Christ.
The lion; symbolic of the Resurrection
Doves, either singly, or in pairs, represent the Holy Spirit
The Griffin represents evil, over which victory is won by the power of the Resurrection and the courage of the Christian.
www.ewbchurches.org.uk/eastrychurchhistory.htm
-----------------------------------------
There is a point in our lives when we, the children, become the adults in the relationship with our parents.
It will come for most of us, no one tells you this will happen, and you are unprepared for it. But it comes
And each of us has a different relationship with our parents than everyone else, what's right for me, and my views, do not apply to you.
Yesterday, was the funeral of the person I have known longer than anyone else on this earth, now that my family is all gone. Margaret and Brian were married a few weeks before mine, and moved into the new build bungalow also a few weeks before my parents.
They also had one child, a son, and Douglas and I have been friends longer than I have been friends with anyone else, although he is a year younger than me.
I have my views on Margaret, but the reason I travelled back to Suffolk for her funeral, was to be there for Douggie, and give him the support he has given me through three weddings and two funerals.
Norfolk isn't far away, and the funeral and wake were taking place just a mile or two over the border from Suffolk, but the roads beyond Ipswich are poor, twisty and where there are accidents or roadworks, no real alternative routes.
I was also leaving just before six, so had to get across the Thames at Dartford and up the A12 during rush hour, so it wouldn't be easy. But at least there would be no rain.
I was up at five, dressed and washed, with time to drink a coffee before leaving. Loading the car with me and my camera bag, as I had plans in case I had time, to visit a church or two.
It was dark up the M20 to Dartford, and busy with traffic, but I made good time, and listened to a loop of old music podcasts all day, so chat and music kept me awake.
I got onto the M25 with no problem, and through the tunnels with only a slight slowdown, but on the other side there were queues.
Despite not wanting to spend money on a new railway, there is always money for road and junction improvements, even if it will just increase traffic. So it is that the M25/A12 junction is being upgraded, and with narrow lanes, speed restrictions, jams began a good four miles before the roadworks started.
I forced my way to the left hand lane, which became a filter lane, meaning it was much quicker than the remaining four lanes. But then came the roundabout. The roundabout under the motorway is the reason the improvements are needed, and queueing traffic blocks the junctions and causes even more backlogs.
Of course, traffic lights on roundabouts are never good ideas, so I was confronted with a wall of traffic, so when the light went green, I went in front of a track before it could shuffle forward and block more of the junction, then there was some clear road.
And ducking into the extreme left hand lane, I dodged past the queuing traffic that was blocking the exit from the A12, and onto clear road.
Yay.
The sky was clear, the sun about to rise, and it was going to be a glorious day.
Just north of Chelmsford, I stopped for breakfast: two sausage rolls and a coffee from Greggs, then filled up the tank and on my way north.
More traffic at Ipswich where the A12 meets the A14 to get over the Orwell, but then clear traffic again after ten minutes delay.
Soon, though, the road narrows to two lane blacktop, and all is well until you meet a slower vehicle. Like a tractor as we did soon after Whickham Market.
For 15 long minutes the tractor lead a growing snake of cars along the winding lanes until it pulled over and we could get past.
Blythburgh was always the marker when travelling back from Ipswich or beyond, that we were nearly home. he handsome church sits high, for Suffolk, overlooking the village and river which is mostly mudflats.
The busy A12 skirts close, but you get to the church via a narrow land, leaving the modern world far behind.
The church opened at nine, it was nearly half past, it was probably open before nine, and was open when I pushed the porch door.
Inside is an unspoilt space, grey wood that have witnessed the centuries so that their vigour has faded to almost no colour of all.
Its the roof people come for. Wooden beams and pairs of wooden angels. I have brought my big lens so to snap them.
My plan was to visit the large and impressive church in Southwold. I turned off the A12 and drove along the straight road into the town, where I found multiple sets of roadworks, and few places to park for a short time, anywhere near the church.
My back is achy, so I wanted somewhere close to park. Anyway, I drove round the town twice, found nowhere to park, so turned the car round and headed back north, until I came to South Cove.
South Cove is a small village, a few farms really, but has a fine, if rustic, well-proportioned church, set in a large churchyard.
And the church was open, so small the wide angle lens wasn't needed, and with windows close to the floor too, no big lens needed either.
Next town up is Kessingland, which until the 80s had the A12 running through the centre of it, but now a bypass lays to the west and the village is quiet. I don't think I had been of the main street, so I went in search of the church, and found it on Church Street.
Obviously.
I rarely research churches before I visit, so nothing prepared me for the interior of St Edmund.
It seems in the last two years, they church had sourced some banners with apt slogans on, banners which were made to look like large tapered ensigns, hanging from or along the supports of the roof.
A man was practicing on the organ, and the notes echoed round the church. Not only does the church have banners, it has ship's wheels and other nautical stuff, although most traditionalists won't like it, I think it hangs together, and if the congregation wants it thus, who are we to argue?
Next stop was South Cove, which I had forgotten I had visited before, so redid all my shots. But this time did see the panel featuring St Michael behind the font, where the rood steps began.
A small, perfect, church, perfect for a small country parish.
I take my shots and leave, driving back onto the A12 and heading into Lowestoft, my main task was to drive over the new bridge which spans Lake Lothing.
The town had been waiting since at least 1966 for a new bridge, and the 3rd crossing was opened in September, and offers fine views as you drive across.
I went to see the old family home. It has been renovated and looks splendid, and not much like it was when sold four years back, it looks cared for and lived in, which is what the buyer promised us he would do.
So then to the crematorium, a drive north through Gunton and past Hopton where Dougie lives, then through the housing estate behind the area hospital to the car park, and then wait.
Margaret was 89, had a long life, but friends of the same age are few, and families are now scattered. So, one can never be sure how many will attend. The chapel was half full at least, with people coming from Kent, Wiltshire and even California to be there.
The celebrant spoke for twenty minutes, saying nice things as they have to do. But, avoiding, or just hinting at faults. Whatever she had done in her life to Dougie, he still loved her, and he was in bits.
Afterward we lined up to shake his hand or give him and Pennie a hug, and allowed me to tell him he was the brother I never had. He was always there for me, and will be there for him.
More tears.
There was a wake at the pub in Hopton, but there was no one I knew other than Dougie and Penny, so I had a drink and made my excuses. These things are really for family and close friends, so I left at quarter to three, hoping to get home before midnight.
In the end, I made good time, I was going round Ipswich before four, and at the M25 junction less than an hour later, and was able to easily join it and zoom round to the bridge. No queues on the southbound side, but the queue northbound went all the way back to the M20 junction, so six mines.
I zoomed on.
I got home at ten past six, happy to have done it and go home in under three and a half hours. Dinner was defrosted ragu, pasta and reheated focaccia, which we were sitting down to eat twenty minutes after getting in.
Phew.
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Perhaps some counties have a church which sums them up. If there has to be one for Suffolk, it must be the church of the Most Holy Trinity, Blythburgh. Here is the late medieval Suffolk imagination writ large, as large as it gets, and not overwritten by the Anglican triumphalism of the 19th century. Blythburgh church is often compared with its near neighbour, St Edmund at Southwold, but this isn't a fair comparison - Southwold church is much grander, and full of urban confidence. Probably a better comparison is with St Margaret, Lowestoft, for there, too, the Reformation intervened before the tower could be rebuilt. The two churches have a lot in common, but Blythburgh has the saving grace. It is so fascinating, so stunningly beautiful, by virtue of a factor that is rare in Anglican parish churches: sheer neglect.
Holy Trinity, Blythburgh, is the church that Suffolk people know and love best, and because of this it has generated some extraordinary legends. The first is that Blythburgh, now a tiny village bisected by the fearsome A12 between London and the east coast ports, was once a thriving medieval town. This idea is used to explain the size of the church; in reality, it is almost certainly not the case. Blythburgh has always been small. But it did have an important medieval priory, and thus its church attracted enough wealthy piety on the eve of the Reformation to bankroll a spectacular rebuilding.
It is to Lavenham, Long Melford, Mildenhall, Southwold and here that we come to see the late 15th century Suffolk aesthetic in perfection. But for my money, Holy Trinity, Blythburgh, is the most significant medieval art object in the county, ranking alongside Salle in Norfolk. Look up at the clerestory; it seems impossible, there is so much glass, so little stone; and yet it rides the building with an air of permanence. Beneath, there is a coyness about the aisles that I prefer to the mathematics of Lavenham. Here, it could not have been done otherwise; it distils human architectural experience. If St Peter and St Paul at Lavenham is man talking to God, Holy Trinity at Blythburgh is God talking to man.
At the east end, a curious series of initials in Lombardic script stretch across the outer chancel wall. You can see an image of this at the top. It reads A-N-JS-B-S-T-M-S-A-H-K-R. This probably stands for Ad Nomina JesuS, Beati Sanctae Trinitas, Maria Sanctorem Anne Honorem Katherine Reconstructus ('In the name of the blessed Jesus, the Holy Trinity, and in honour of Holy Mary, Anne and Katherine, this was rebuilt'). A fanciful theory is that they are the initials of the wives of the donors. However, note the symbol of the Trinity in the T stone, and I think this is a clue to the whole piece.
Figures stand on pedestals atop the south side and east end. The most easterly is unusual, a crowned old man sitting on a throne directly on the gable end. This is a medieval image of God the Father, a rare survival. Moving westwards from here we find the Blessed Virgin in prayerful pose, Christ as the Saviour of the World holding an orb in one hand and blessing with the other, and then a collared bear with a ragged staff, a seated woodwose, another bear, this time with a collar and bell, and last of all a fox with a goose in its mouth, his jaws grasping the neck:
The porch is part of the late 15th century rebuilding, but it was considerably restored in the early 20th century. Interestingly, the angels crowning the battlements look medieval - but they weren't there in 1900, so must have come from somewhere else. Pretty much all the porch's features of interest date from this time. These include the small medieval font pressed into service as a holy water stoup, and image niche above the doors. This has been filled in more recent years by an image if the Holy Trinity; God the Father holds the Son suspended while a dove representing the Holy Spirit alights; you can see medieval versions of this at Framlingham and Little Glemham. Of all medieval imagery, this was the most frowned upon by puritans. An image of God the Father was thought the most suspicious of all idolatries. Indeed, as late as the 1870s, when the Reverend White edited the first popular edition of the Diary of William Dowsing, he actually congratulated Dowsing on destroying images of the Holy Trinity in the course of his 1644 progress through the counties of Suffolk and Cambridgeshire.
William Dowsing visited on the morning on April 9th, 1644. It was a Tuesday, and he had spent most of the week in the area. The previous day he'd been at Southwold and Walberswick to the east, but preceded his visit here with one to Blyford, which lies to the west, so he was probably staying overnight at the family home in Laxfield. He found twenty images in stained glass to take to task (a surprisingly small number, given the size of the place) and two hundred more that were inaccessible that morning (probably in the great east window). Three brass inscriptions incurred his wrath (but again, this is curious; there were many more) and he also ordered down the cross on the porch and the cross on the tower. Most significantly of all, he decided the angels in the roof should go.
Lots of Suffolk churches have angels in their roofs. None are like Blythburgh's. You step inside, and there they are, exactly as you've seen them in books and in photographs. They are awesome, breathtaking. There are twelve of them. Perhaps there were once twenty. How would you get them down if ordered to do so? The roof is so high, and the stencilling of IHS symbols would also have to go.
Perhaps this was already indistinct by the time Dowsing visited. Perhaps Tuesday, 9th of April 1644 was a dull day.
Several of the angels are peppered with lead shot. Here is another of those Suffolk legends; that Dowsing and the churchwardens fired muskets at the angels to try and bring them down. But when the angels were restored in the 1970s, the lead shot removed was found to be 18th century; contemporary with them there is a note in the churchwardens accounts that men were paid for shooting jackdaws living inside the building, so that probably explains where the shot came from. Here are some details of that wonderful roof:
The otherwise splendid church guide also repeats the error that the Holy Trinity symbol in the porch filled a gap that had been 'empty since 1644'. But there was certainly no image in it when Dowsing arrived here, or anywhere else in Suffolk; statues were completely outlawed by injunctions in the early years of the reign of Edward VI, almost a hundred years before the morning of Dowsing's visit.
Another feature used as evidence of puritan destruction is the ring fixed into the most westerly pillar of the north arcade. Cromwell's men stabled their horses here, apparently. Well, it almost certainly is a ring for tying horses to, and the broken bricks at the cleared west end also suggest this; but there is no reason to think that Cromwell and the puritans were responsible. For a full century before Cromwell, and for nearly two hundred years afterwards, a church as big as this would have had a multitude of uses. Holy Trinity was built for the rituals of the Catholic church; once these were no longer allowed, a village like Blythburgh, which can never have had more than 500 people, would have seen it as an asset in other ways. It was only with the 19th century sacramental revival brought about by the Oxford Movement that we started getting all holy again about our parish churches. Perhaps it was used as an overnight stables for passing travellers on the main road; not an un-Christian use for it to be put to, I think.
In August 1577, a great storm brought down the steeple, which fell into the church and damaged the font. This was at the height of Elizabethan superstition, and the devil was blamed; his hoof marks can still be seen on the church door. Supposedly, a black dog ran through the church, killing two parishioners; he was seen the same day at St Mary, Bungay. Black Shuck is the East Anglian devil dog, the feared hound of the marshes; and Holy Trinity is the self-styled Cathedral of the Marshes, so it is appropriate that he appeared here. You can see where the font has been broken. You can also see that this was one of the rare, beautiful seven sacrament fonts, similar in style to the one at Westhall; but, like those at neighbouring Wenhaston and Southwold, it has been completely stripped of imagery. Almost certainly, this was in the 1540s, but there is a story that the font at Wenhaston was chiselled clean as part of the 19th century restoration. More importantly in any case, the storm, or the dog, or the devil, damaged the roof; it would not be properly repaired for more than 400 years. Throughout the 17th and 18th centuries, accounts note that Holy Trinity is not impregnable to the weather. By the 19th century, parishioners attended divine service with umbrellas. By the 1880s, it was a positively dangerous building to be in, and the Bishop of Norwich ordered it closed.
Why had Holy Trinity not been restored? Simply, this is a big church, with a tiny village. There was no rich patron, and in any case the parishioners had a passion for Methodism. Probably, repairs had been mooted, but not a wholesale restoration as we have seen at Lavenham, Long Melford and Southwold. By the 1880s, attention in England had turned to the preservation of medieval detail; in short, restorations were not as ignorant as they had been a quarter of a century earlier. Suggestions that Holy Trinity should be restored in the manner of the other three were blocked by the Society for the Preservation of Ancient Buildings, and this owed a lot to the energy of William Morris, the Society's secretary.
The slow, patient restoration of this building took the best part of a century; indeed, when I first visited in the 1980s I was still aware of a sense of decay.
Nothing could be further from the truth today. You step into a wide, white, open space, one of England's great church interiors. There, high above you, is the glorious roof and the angels of God. The brick floors spread around the scraped font, which still bears its dedicatory inscription and standing places for participants. You turn into the central gangway, and more than twenty empty indents for brasses stretch before you. Dowsing can be blamed for the destruction of hardly any of them. In reality, you see the work of 18th and 19th century thieves and collectors.
The bench-ends are superb. The benches themselves were reconstructed in the late 19th century, supposedly from the main post of Westleton windmill, but the ends are some of the county's finest medieval images. There are partial sets of basically three series: the Seven Deadly Sins, the Seven Works of Mercy, and the Labours of the Seasons. There are also angels bearing symbols of the Holy Trinity and the Crown. There are other figures too, obscure and fragmentary and whose purpose is unclear, as if surviving figments of a broken dream. The quality of what remains makes you grieve for what has been lost.
The rood screen is a disappointment; most of it is modern, and the medieval bits perfunctory and scoured. Having said this, note how tiny the exit from the north aisle rood loft stair is. Also at this end of the church, a scattering of medieval glass, mainly angels. There is more in the south aisle, including a collection of shields of the Holy Trinity:
But step through the central aisle to see something remarkable. The priest and choir stalls are fronted by exquisite carvings of the Apostles, the Evangelists, John the Baptist, St Stephen, Mary Queen of Heaven and Christ in Majesty. Seeing these eighteen carvings is a bit like gobbling up a very large box of chocolates, but it is worth stopping to consider quite how genuine they all are. For a start, there could not have been choir stalls here in medieval times, and in any case we know that these desks and their frontages were in the north aisle chapel until the 19th century. They were used as school benches in the 17th century; they still bear holes for inkpots, and the graffiti of a bored Dutch child (his father was probably working on draining the marshes) is dated 1665. There is nothing at all like them anywhere else in Suffolk.
Whatever, the east end of the chancel and aisles are thrillingly modern, wholly devotional. In the north aisle, traditionally the Hopton chantry, extraordinary friezes of skeletons become symbols of the four evangelists behind the altar. Beside them is Peter Ball's beautiful Madonna and Child. Separating the south aisle chapel from the sanctuary is is one of Suffolk's biggest Easter sepulchres, tomb of the Hoptons. Behind the high altar, branches arranged like huge stag antlers spread dramatically. It is all just about perfect. Tucked to one side of the organ is a clockjack; Suffolk has two, and the other is down-river at Southwold. They date from the late 17th century, and presumably once struck the hours; at high church Blythburgh and Southwold today, they are used to announce the entry of the ministers.
This is a wonderful church to wander around in, the light and the air changing with the seasons, a suffused sense of the numinous presenting its different faces according to the time of day and time of year. Come here on a bright spring morning, or in the drowsy heat of a summer's day. Come on a cold winter afternoon as the colours fade and the smell of woodsmoke from neighbouring cottages weaves a spell above the old stone floors and woodwork. And before you leave, find the doorway in the south-west corner of the nave. It opens onto a low, narrow stairway. You can go up it. It leads up into the parvise storey of the south porch, now reappointed and dedicated as a tiny chapel, a peaceful spot to spend a few moments before continuing your journey.
You may be reading this entry in a far-off land; or perhaps you are here at home. Whatever, if you have not visited this church, then I urge you to do so. It is the most beautiful church in Suffolk, a wonderful art object, and it is always open in daylight. It remains one of the most significant medieval buildings in England. If you only visit one of Suffolk's churches, then make it this one
Simon Knott, 2014.
“God is the Beginning and the End.” Only God Himself can usher in a new age and conclude the old age. Since the Lord Jesus opened up the Age of Grace and brought the Age of Law to an end, it has been two thousand years. During which, man has been living in the Lord’s grace and enjoying His love and mercy. In the last days, Almighty God has arrived. He has ended the Age of Grace and brought forth the Age of Kingdom; He has raised the curtains on the judgment before the great white throne, and thereafter mankind enters into a new era. Almighty God has descended with judgment. In His majestic judgment, all evil forces and the impure old world fall under God’s wrath and come to nothing, while those who long for the light and thirst after the truth will be granted purification and salvation in God’s judgment. The whole of the world is perfectly renewed! Almighty God accomplishes His six-thousand-year management plan. What a heartening moment! All peoples are singing joyfully for the accomplishment of God’s work, in praise of the only true God.
All Saints, Gazeley, Suffolk.
There was never any doubt I would go to Rob's funeral. Rob was born just two weeks before me, and in our many meetings, we found we had so much in common.
A drive to Ipswich should be something like only two and a half hours, but with the Dartford Crossing that could balloon to four or more.
My choice was to leave early, soon after Jools left for work, or wait to near nine once rush hour was over. If I was up early, I'd leave early, I said.
Which is what happened.
So, after coffee and Jools leaving, I loaded my camera stuff in the car, not bothering to program in a destination, as I knew the route to Suffolk so well.
Checking the internet I found the M2 was closed, so that meant taking the M20, which I like as it runs beside HS2, although over the years, vegetation growth now hides most of it, and with Eurostar cutting services due to Brexit, you're lucky to see a train on the line now.
I had a phone loaded with podcasts, so time flew by, even if travelling through the endless roadworks at 50mph seemed to take forever.
Dartford was jammed. But we inched forward, until as the bridge came in sight, traffic moved smoothly, and I followed the traffic down into the east bore of the tunnel.
Another glorious morning for travel, the sun shone from a clear blue sky, even if traffic was heavy, but I had time, so not pressing on like I usually do, making the drive a pleasant one.
Up through Essex, where most other traffic turned off at Stanstead, then up to the A11 junction, with it being not yet nine, I had several hours to fill before the ceremony.
I stopped at Cambridge services for breakfast, then programmed the first church in: Gazeley, which is just in Suffolk on the border with Cambridgeshire.
I took the next junction off, took two further turnings brought be to the village, which is divided by one of the widest village streets I have ever seen.
It was five past nine: would the church be open?
I parked on the opposite side of the road, grabbed my bag and camera, limped over, passing a warden putting new notices in the parish notice board. We exchange good mornings, and I walk to the porch.
The inner door was unlocked, and the heavy door swung after turning the metal ring handle.
I had made a list of four churches from Simon's list of the top 60 Suffolk churches, picking those on or near my route to Ipswich and which piqued my interest.
Here, it was the reset mediaeval glass.
Needless to say, I had the church to myself, the centuries hanging heavy inside as sunlight flooded in filling the Chancel with warm golden light.
Windows had several devotional dials carved in the surrounding stone, and a huge and "stunningly beautiful piscina, and beside it are sedilia that end in an arm rest carved in the shape of a beast" which caught my eye.
A display in the Chancel was of the decoration of the wooden roof above where panels contained carved beasts, some actual and some mythical.
I photographed them all.
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All Saints is a large, remarkably good church in one of the sleepy, fat villages along the Cambridgeshire border, the sort of place you cycle through and imagine wistfully that you've won the lottery and could move there. The wide churchyard on both sides is a perfect setting for the church, which rises to heaven out of a perpendicular splendour of aisles, clerestories and battlements. The tower was complete by the 1470s when money was being left for a bell. The earlier chancel steadies the ship, anchoring it to earth quietly, although the tall east window has its spectacular moment too. And you step into a deliciously well-kept interior, full of interest.
One of the most significant medieval survivals here is not easily noticed. This is the range of 15th Century glass, which was reset by the Victorians high in the clerestory. This seems a curious thing to have done, since it defeats the purpose of a clerestory, but if they had not done so then we might have lost it. The glass matches the tracery in the north aisle windows, so that is probably where they came from. There are angels, three Saints and some shields, most of which are heraldic but two show the instruments of the passion and the Holy Trinity. I would not be surprised to learn that some of the shields are 19th century, but the figures are all original late 15th or early 16th century. The Saints are an unidentified Bishop, the hacksaw-wielding St Faith and one of my favourites, St Apollonia. She it was who was invoked by medieval people against toothache.
Waling from the nave up into the chancel, the space created by the clearing of clutter makes it at once mysterious and beautiful. Above, the early 16th century waggon roof is Suffolk's best of its kind. Mortlock points out the little angels bearing scrolls, the wheat ears and the vine sprays, and the surviving traces of colour. The low side window on the south side still has its hinges, for here it was that updraught to the rood would have sent the candles flickering in the mystical church of the 14th century. On the south side of the sanctuary is an exquisitely carved arched recess, that doesn't appear to have ever had a door, and may have been a very rare purpose-built Easter sepulchre at the time of the 1330s rebuilding. Opposite is a huge and stunningly beautiful piscina, and beside it are sedilia that end in an arm rest carved in the shape of a beast. It is one of the most significant Decorated moments in Suffolk.
On the floor of the chancel there is a tiny, perfect chalice brass, one of only two surviving in Suffolk. The other is at Rendham. Not far away is the indent of another chalice brass - or perhaps it was for the same one, and the brass has been moved for some reason. There are two chalice indents at Westhall, but nowhere else in Suffolk. Chalice brasses were popular memorials for Priests in the 15th and early 16th centuries, and thus were fair game for reformers. Heigham memorials of the late 16th century are on the walls. Back in the south aisle there is a splendid tombchest in Purbeck marble. It has lost its brasses, but the indents show us where they were, as do other indents in the aisle floors. Some heraldic brass shields survive, and show that Heighams were buried here. Brass inscriptions survive in the nave and the chancel, dating from the late 16th and early 17th centuries.
The 14th century font is a good example of the tracery pattern series that appeared in the decades before the Black Death. They may have been intended to spread ideas at that time of great artistic and intellectual flowering before it was so cruelly snatched away. The cover is 17th Century. At this end of the nave are two good ranges of medieval benches, one, rare in East Anglia, is a group of 14th Century benches with pierced tracery backs. Some of them appear to spell out words, and Mortlock thought one might say Salaman Sayet. The block of benches to the north appears to be 15th Century or possibly early 16th Century. Further north, the early 17th Century benches are simpler, even cruder, and were likely the work of the village carpenter.
All rather lovely then. And yet, it hasn't always been that way. All Saints at Gazeley, near Newmarket, was the first church that I visited after an international team of scientists conclusively proved that God did not exist began the first page for this church that I wrote in 2003, in a satirical mood after finding the church locked and at a very low ebb. At a time when congregations were generally falling, I'd been thinking about the future of medieval churches beyond a time when they would have people to use them in the traditional way. I wondered if the buildings might find new uses, or could adapt themselves to changing patterns and emphases in Christianity, or even changing spiritual needs of their parishes. Even if science could somehow prove that God did not exist, I suggested, there were parishes which would rise to the challenge and reinvent themselves, as churches have always done over the two millennia of Christianity. Coming to Gazeley I felt that here was a church which felt as if it had been abandoned. And yet, it seemed to me a church of such significance, such historical and spiritual importance, that its loss would be a disaster. If it had been clean, tidy and open at the time he was visiting, Simon Jenkins England's Thousand Best Churches would not have been able to resist it. Should the survival of such a treasure store depend upon the existence of God or the continued practice of the Christian faith? Or might there be other reasons to keep this extraordinary building in something like its present integrity?
In the first decade of the 21st Century, Gazeley church went on a tremendous journey, from being moribund to being the wonderful church you can visit today. If you want to read the slightly adapted 2006 entry for Gazeley, recounting this journey, you can do so here. Coming back here today always fills me with optimism for what can be achieved. On one occasion I mentioned my experiences of Gazeley church to a Catholic Priest friend of mine, and he said he hoped I knew I'd seen the power of the Holy Spirit at work. And perhaps that is so. Certainly, the energy and imagination of the people here have been fired by something. On that occasion I had wanted to find someone to ask about it, to find out how things stood now. But there was no one, and so the building spoke for them.
Back outside in the graveyard, the dog daisies clustered and waved their sun-kissed faces in the light breeze. The ancient building must have known many late-May days like this over the centuries, but think of all the changes that it has known inside! The general buffeting of the winds of history still leaves room for local squalls and lightning strikes. All Saints has known these, but for now a blessed calm reigns here. Long may it remain so.
Simon Knott, June 2019
Yesterday we celebrated Christmas at the HOH. We know it's a bit early, but that's what worked out the best for all of us here. Some of the young people are still writing exams this week right up until the 23rd when Linda and I will be leaving for vacation. We had a wonderful time yesterday, it was a lot of work preparing a meal for close to 180 people by the time you add all the children, staff, and close friends of the HOH. This year we left the program completely up to the Our Hope young people. They surprised us with a home made manger scene (pictured here) and quite a few nice songs and skits. They did a really great job, and of course were thrilled after all the guest left and they received their Christmas gifts. No one was disappointed this year! Thank you so much to all of you who sent them gifts. I wish I could bottle up all the excitement that was around here and pass it on to you all!
The excitement and joy was short lived when one of our little children passed away this morning. He wasn't doing well yesterday, but we were quite surprised when he passed away. We ask you to pray for John's family, his grandfather is a guard at our hospital. Unfortunately they waited too long to bring John to the hospital, and we weren't able to get him the treatment he needed in time. His family has had a rough time lately with many members quite sick, so they'd appreciate your prayers on their behalf.
As I mentioned already, Linda and I will be going on vacation at the end of this week. Linda will be going to see her family in Cap Haitian, and will be gone a week or so. I will be in the US visiting my family in Texas and will be gone a total of 3 weeks. We are thankful for the staff members we have who will be staying here at the HOH 24/7 during the time we are both gone. Please keep them in your prayers. Some of the Our Hope kids will be going along with Linda to Cap Haitian for a little vacation as well. Please pray for Linda and myself as well that we would get some much needed rest and relaxation!
All of the other children are doing very well, coming right along in their various treatments. We continue to search for a hospital for Jackson that will treat his leukemia, but so far we have had no success. We are in contact with one that we see as last hope, but we know our true hope is in Jesus, and we continue to pray and trust him that he will do His will in the life of Jackson. Please pray that as Linda goes and visits him over the holidays that she'd have a chance to present the Gospel to him again, and that the Holy Spirit would work in his heart and that he would accept the Lord as his Savior.
We wish you all a very Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year. We'll write another update just as soon as we can!
All Saints, Gazeley, Suffolk.
There was never any doubt I would go to Rob's funeral. Rob was born just two weeks before me, and in our many meetings, we found we had so much in common.
A drive to Ipswich should be something like only two and a half hours, but with the Dartford Crossing that could balloon to four or more.
My choice was to leave early, soon after Jools left for work, or wait to near nine once rush hour was over. If I was up early, I'd leave early, I said.
Which is what happened.
So, after coffee and Jools leaving, I loaded my camera stuff in the car, not bothering to program in a destination, as I knew the route to Suffolk so well.
Checking the internet I found the M2 was closed, so that meant taking the M20, which I like as it runs beside HS2, although over the years, vegetation growth now hides most of it, and with Eurostar cutting services due to Brexit, you're lucky to see a train on the line now.
I had a phone loaded with podcasts, so time flew by, even if travelling through the endless roadworks at 50mph seemed to take forever.
Dartford was jammed. But we inched forward, until as the bridge came in sight, traffic moved smoothly, and I followed the traffic down into the east bore of the tunnel.
Another glorious morning for travel, the sun shone from a clear blue sky, even if traffic was heavy, but I had time, so not pressing on like I usually do, making the drive a pleasant one.
Up through Essex, where most other traffic turned off at Stanstead, then up to the A11 junction, with it being not yet nine, I had several hours to fill before the ceremony.
I stopped at Cambridge services for breakfast, then programmed the first church in: Gazeley, which is just in Suffolk on the border with Cambridgeshire.
I took the next junction off, took two further turnings brought be to the village, which is divided by one of the widest village streets I have ever seen.
It was five past nine: would the church be open?
I parked on the opposite side of the road, grabbed my bag and camera, limped over, passing a warden putting new notices in the parish notice board. We exchange good mornings, and I walk to the porch.
The inner door was unlocked, and the heavy door swung after turning the metal ring handle.
I had made a list of four churches from Simon's list of the top 60 Suffolk churches, picking those on or near my route to Ipswich and which piqued my interest.
Here, it was the reset mediaeval glass.
Needless to say, I had the church to myself, the centuries hanging heavy inside as sunlight flooded in filling the Chancel with warm golden light.
Windows had several devotional dials carved in the surrounding stone, and a huge and "stunningly beautiful piscina, and beside it are sedilia that end in an arm rest carved in the shape of a beast" which caught my eye.
A display in the Chancel was of the decoration of the wooden roof above where panels contained carved beasts, some actual and some mythical.
I photographed them all.
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All Saints is a large, remarkably good church in one of the sleepy, fat villages along the Cambridgeshire border, the sort of place you cycle through and imagine wistfully that you've won the lottery and could move there. The wide churchyard on both sides is a perfect setting for the church, which rises to heaven out of a perpendicular splendour of aisles, clerestories and battlements. The tower was complete by the 1470s when money was being left for a bell. The earlier chancel steadies the ship, anchoring it to earth quietly, although the tall east window has its spectacular moment too. And you step into a deliciously well-kept interior, full of interest.
One of the most significant medieval survivals here is not easily noticed. This is the range of 15th Century glass, which was reset by the Victorians high in the clerestory. This seems a curious thing to have done, since it defeats the purpose of a clerestory, but if they had not done so then we might have lost it. The glass matches the tracery in the north aisle windows, so that is probably where they came from. There are angels, three Saints and some shields, most of which are heraldic but two show the instruments of the passion and the Holy Trinity. I would not be surprised to learn that some of the shields are 19th century, but the figures are all original late 15th or early 16th century. The Saints are an unidentified Bishop, the hacksaw-wielding St Faith and one of my favourites, St Apollonia. She it was who was invoked by medieval people against toothache.
Waling from the nave up into the chancel, the space created by the clearing of clutter makes it at once mysterious and beautiful. Above, the early 16th century waggon roof is Suffolk's best of its kind. Mortlock points out the little angels bearing scrolls, the wheat ears and the vine sprays, and the surviving traces of colour. The low side window on the south side still has its hinges, for here it was that updraught to the rood would have sent the candles flickering in the mystical church of the 14th century. On the south side of the sanctuary is an exquisitely carved arched recess, that doesn't appear to have ever had a door, and may have been a very rare purpose-built Easter sepulchre at the time of the 1330s rebuilding. Opposite is a huge and stunningly beautiful piscina, and beside it are sedilia that end in an arm rest carved in the shape of a beast. It is one of the most significant Decorated moments in Suffolk.
On the floor of the chancel there is a tiny, perfect chalice brass, one of only two surviving in Suffolk. The other is at Rendham. Not far away is the indent of another chalice brass - or perhaps it was for the same one, and the brass has been moved for some reason. There are two chalice indents at Westhall, but nowhere else in Suffolk. Chalice brasses were popular memorials for Priests in the 15th and early 16th centuries, and thus were fair game for reformers. Heigham memorials of the late 16th century are on the walls. Back in the south aisle there is a splendid tombchest in Purbeck marble. It has lost its brasses, but the indents show us where they were, as do other indents in the aisle floors. Some heraldic brass shields survive, and show that Heighams were buried here. Brass inscriptions survive in the nave and the chancel, dating from the late 16th and early 17th centuries.
The 14th century font is a good example of the tracery pattern series that appeared in the decades before the Black Death. They may have been intended to spread ideas at that time of great artistic and intellectual flowering before it was so cruelly snatched away. The cover is 17th Century. At this end of the nave are two good ranges of medieval benches, one, rare in East Anglia, is a group of 14th Century benches with pierced tracery backs. Some of them appear to spell out words, and Mortlock thought one might say Salaman Sayet. The block of benches to the north appears to be 15th Century or possibly early 16th Century. Further north, the early 17th Century benches are simpler, even cruder, and were likely the work of the village carpenter.
All rather lovely then. And yet, it hasn't always been that way. All Saints at Gazeley, near Newmarket, was the first church that I visited after an international team of scientists conclusively proved that God did not exist began the first page for this church that I wrote in 2003, in a satirical mood after finding the church locked and at a very low ebb. At a time when congregations were generally falling, I'd been thinking about the future of medieval churches beyond a time when they would have people to use them in the traditional way. I wondered if the buildings might find new uses, or could adapt themselves to changing patterns and emphases in Christianity, or even changing spiritual needs of their parishes. Even if science could somehow prove that God did not exist, I suggested, there were parishes which would rise to the challenge and reinvent themselves, as churches have always done over the two millennia of Christianity. Coming to Gazeley I felt that here was a church which felt as if it had been abandoned. And yet, it seemed to me a church of such significance, such historical and spiritual importance, that its loss would be a disaster. If it had been clean, tidy and open at the time he was visiting, Simon Jenkins England's Thousand Best Churches would not have been able to resist it. Should the survival of such a treasure store depend upon the existence of God or the continued practice of the Christian faith? Or might there be other reasons to keep this extraordinary building in something like its present integrity?
In the first decade of the 21st Century, Gazeley church went on a tremendous journey, from being moribund to being the wonderful church you can visit today. If you want to read the slightly adapted 2006 entry for Gazeley, recounting this journey, you can do so here. Coming back here today always fills me with optimism for what can be achieved. On one occasion I mentioned my experiences of Gazeley church to a Catholic Priest friend of mine, and he said he hoped I knew I'd seen the power of the Holy Spirit at work. And perhaps that is so. Certainly, the energy and imagination of the people here have been fired by something. On that occasion I had wanted to find someone to ask about it, to find out how things stood now. But there was no one, and so the building spoke for them.
Back outside in the graveyard, the dog daisies clustered and waved their sun-kissed faces in the light breeze. The ancient building must have known many late-May days like this over the centuries, but think of all the changes that it has known inside! The general buffeting of the winds of history still leaves room for local squalls and lightning strikes. All Saints has known these, but for now a blessed calm reigns here. Long may it remain so.
Simon Knott, June 2019
I had not been to Lincoln for some seven years, and back then I had little entrance in churches. But all that is different now, but I guess even then I knew there was something special about how the cathedral and church sat atop their hill with the ancient Steep Hill leading the way up from the river.
Of course, as I visit more and more fine buildings and churches, I notice more and more things, and so take more and more photos, so for those of you not interested in churches, I suppose this could be a tad dull? I hope not, Lincoln was splendid, and well worth a trip, or even a return.
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Lincoln Cathedral (in full The Cathedral Church of the Blessed Virgin Mary of Lincoln, or sometimes St. Mary's Cathedral) is a cathedral located in Lincoln in England and seat of the Bishop of Lincoln in the Church of England. Building commenced in 1088 and continued in several phases throughout the medieval period. It was reputedly the tallest building in the world for 238 years (1311–1549).[1][2][3] The central spire collapsed in 1549 and was not rebuilt. The cathedral is the third largest in Britain (in floor space) after St Paul's and York Minster, being 484 by 271 feet (148 by 83 m). It is highly regarded by architectural scholars; the eminent Victorian writer John Ruskin declared: "I have always held... that the cathedral of Lincoln is out and out the most precious piece of architecture in the British Isles and roughly speaking worth any two other cathedrals we have."
Remigius de Fécamp, the first Bishop of Lincoln, moved the episcopal seat (cathedra) there "some time between 1072 and 1092"[4] About this, James Essex writes that "Remigius ... laid the foundations of his Cathedral in 1088" and "it is probable that he, being a Norman, employed Norman masons to superintend the building ... though he could not complete the whole before his death."[5] Before that, writes B. Winkles, "It is well known that Remigius appropriated the parish church of St Mary Magdalene in Lincoln, although it is not known what use he made of it
Up until then St. Mary's Church in Stow was considered to be the "mother church"[7] of Lincolnshire[8] (although it was not a cathedral, because the seat of the diocese was at Dorchester Abbey in Dorchester-on-Thames, Oxfordshire). However, Lincoln was more central to a diocese that stretched from the Thames to the Humber.
Bishop Remigius built the first Lincoln Cathedral on the present site, finishing it in 1092 and then dying on 9 May of that year,[9] two days before it was consecrated. In 1141, the timber roofing was destroyed in a fire. Bishop Alexander rebuilt and expanded the cathedral, but it was mostly destroyed by an earthquake about forty years later, in 1185 (dated by the BGS as occurring 15 April 1185).[6][10] The earthquake was one of the largest felt in the UK: it has an estimated magnitude of over 5. The damage to the cathedral is thought to have been very extensive: the Cathedral is described as having "split from top to bottom"; in the current building, only the lower part of the west end and of its two attached towers remain of the pre-earthquake cathedral.[10] Some (Kidson, 1986; Woo, 1991) have suggested that the damage to Lincoln Cathedral was probably exaggerated by poor construction or design; with the actual collapse most probably caused by a vault collapse.[10]
After the earthquake, a new bishop was appointed. He was Hugh de Burgundy of Avalon, France, who became known as St Hugh of Lincoln. He began a massive rebuilding and expansion programme. Rebuilding began with the choir (St Hugh's Choir) and the eastern transepts between 1192 and 1210.[11] The central nave was then built in the Early English Gothic style. Lincoln Cathedral soon followed other architectural advances of the time – pointed arches, flying buttresses and ribbed vaulting were added to the cathedral. This allowed support for incorporating larger windows. There are thirteen bells in the south-west tower, two in the north-west tower, and five in the central tower (including Great Tom). Accompanying the cathedral's large bell, Great Tom of Lincoln, is a quarter-hour striking clock. The clock was installed in the early 19th century.[12] The two large stained glass rose windows, the matching Dean's Eye and Bishop's Eye, were added to the cathedral during the late Middle Ages. The former, the Dean's Eye in the north transept dates from the 1192 rebuild begun by St Hugh, finally being completed in 1235. The latter, the Bishop's eye, in the south transept was reconstructed a hundred years later in 1330.[13] A contemporary record, “The Metrical Life of St Hugh”, refers to the meaning of these two windows (one on the dark, north, side and the other on the light, south, side of the building):
"For north represents the devil, and south the Holy Spirit and it is in these directions that the two eyes look. The bishop faces the south in order to invite in and the dean the north in order to shun; the one takes care to be saved, the other takes care not to perish. With these Eyes the cathedral’s face is on watch for the candelabra of Heaven and the darkness of Lethe (oblivion)."
After the additions of the Dean's eye and other major Gothic additions it is believed some mistakes in the support of the tower occurred, for in 1237 the main tower collapsed. A new tower was soon started and in 1255 the Cathedral petitioned Henry III to allow them to take down part of the town wall to enlarge and expand the Cathedral, including the rebuilding of the central tower and spire. They replaced the small rounded chapels (built at the time of St Hugh) with a larger east end to the cathedral. This was to handle the increasing number of pilgrims to the Cathedral, who came to worship at the shrine of Hugh of Lincoln.
In 1290 Eleanor of Castile died and King Edward I of England decided to honour her, his Queen Consort, with an elegant funeral procession. After her body had been embalmed, which in the 13th century involved evisceration, Eleanor's viscera were buried in Lincoln cathedral and Edward placed a duplicate of the Westminster Abbey tomb there. The Lincoln tomb's original stone chest survives; its effigy was destroyed in the 17th century and replaced with a 19th-century copy. On the outside of Lincoln Cathedral are two prominent statues often identified as Edward and Eleanor, but these images were heavily restored in the 19th century and they were probably not originally intended to depict the couple.
Between 1307 and 1311 the central tower was raised to its present height of 271 feet (83 m). The western towers and front of the cathedral were also improved and heightened. At this time, a tall lead-encased wooden spire topped the central tower but was blown down in a storm in 1549. With its spire, the tower reputedly reached a height of 525 feet (160 m) (which would have made it the world's tallest structure, surpassing the Great Pyramid of Giza, which held the record for almost 4,000 years). Although there is dissent,[1] this height is agreed by most sources.[14][15][16][17][18] Other additions to the cathedral at this time included its elaborate carved screen and the 14th-century misericords, as was the Angel Choir. For a large part of the length of the cathedral, the walls have arches in relief with a second layer in front to give the illusion of a passageway along the wall. However the illusion does not work, as the stonemason, copying techniques from France, did not make the arches the correct length needed for the illusion to be effective.
In 1398 John of Gaunt and Katherine Swynford founded a chantry in the cathedral to pray for the welfare of their souls. In the 15th century the building of the cathedral turned to chantry or memorial chapels. The chapels next to the Angel Choir were built in the Perpendicular style, with an emphasis on strong vertical lines, which survive today in the window tracery and wall panelling.
The Postcard
A postally unused Valentine's Series postcard. They state on the back of the card that the image is a real photograph, and that the card was printed in Great Britain.
The Bunyan Meeting
The Bunyan Meeting is a town centre Christian Church affiliated to the Congregational Federation and the Baptist Union of Great Britain.
It is also home to the award-winning John Bunyan Museum & Library.
John Bunyan
John Bunyan was baptised on the 30th. November 1628. He was an English writer and Puritan preacher, best remembered as the author of the Christian allegory The Pilgrim's Progress. In addition to The Pilgrim's Progress, Bunyan wrote nearly sixty titles, many of them expanded sermons.
Bunyan came from the village of Elstow, near Bedford. At the age of 16 he joined the Parliamentary Army during the first stage of the English Civil War. After three years in the army he returned to Elstow and took up the trade of tinker, which he had learned from his father.
He became interested in religion after his marriage, attending first the parish church and then joining the Bedford Meeting, a nonconformist group in Bedford, and becoming a preacher.
After the restoration of the monarch, when the freedom of nonconformists was curtailed, Bunyan was arrested and spent the next twelve years in jail as he refused to give up preaching.
During this time he wrote a spiritual autobiography, Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners.
The Pilgrim's Progress
While in prison he also began work on his most famous book, The Pilgrim's Progress, which was not published until some years after his release.
The Pilgrim's Progress became one of the most published books in the English language; 1,300 editions having been printed by 1938, 250 years after the author's death.
John Bunyan - The Later Years
Bunyan's later years, in spite of another shorter term of imprisonment, were spent in relative comfort as a popular author and preacher, and pastor of the Bedford Meeting.
The Death of John Bunyan
John Bunyan died on the 31st. August 1688 aged 59 after falling ill on a journey to London, and is buried in Bunhill Fields.
Final Thoughts From john Bunyan
"You have not lived today until you have
done something for someone who can
never repay you."
"If my life is fruitless, it doesn't matter who
praises me, and if my life is fruitful, it doesn't
matter who criticizes me."
"No man, without trials and temptations,
can attain a true understanding of the
Holy Scriptures."
"Pray and read, read and pray; for a little from
God is better than a great deal from men."
"He who runs from God in the morning will
scarcely find Him the rest of the day."
"What God says is best, is best, though
all the men in the world are against it."
"The truths that I know best I have learned
on my knees. I never know a thing well, till
it is burned into my heart by prayer."
"The fear of God is the beginning of wisdom,
and they that lack the beginning have neither
middle nor end."
"Hope is never ill when faith is well."
"It is said that in some countries trees will grow,
but will bear no fruit because there is no winter
there."
"Christians are like the several flowers in a garden
that have each of them the dew of heaven, which,
being shaken with the wind, they let fall at each
other's roots, whereby they are jointly nourished,
and become nourishers of each other."
"It is possible to learn all about the mysteries of the
Bible and never be affected by it in one's soul. Great
knowledge is not enough."
"Afflictions make the heart more deep, more
experimental, more knowing and profound,
and so, more able to hold, to contain, and
beat more."
"You have chosen the roughest road,
but it leads straight to the hilltops."
"Whatever contradicts the Word of God
should be instantly resisted as diabolical."
"The spirit of prayer is more precious
than treasures of gold and silver."
"If we have not quiet in our minds, outward
comfort will do no more for us than a golden
slipper on a gouty foot."
"An idle man's brain is the devil's workshop."
"No child of God sins to that degree as
to make himself incapable of forgiveness."
"If you are not a praying person,
you are not a Christian."
"The best prayer I ever prayed had
enough sin to damn the whole world."
"Words easy to be understood do often
hit the mark, when high and learned ones
do only pierce the air."
"I will stay in prison till the moss grows
on my eye lids rather than disobey God."
"I come from the Town of Stupidity; it lieth
about four degrees beyond the City of
Destruction."
"And, indeed, this is one of the greatest
mysteries in the world; namely, that a
righteousness that resides in heaven
should justify me, a sinner on earth!"
"I will stay in jail to the end of my days
before I make a butchery of my conscience."
"There is no way to kill a man's
righteousness but by his own
consent."
"Temptations, when we meet them at first,
are as the lion that reared upon Samson;
but if we overcome them, the next time we
see them we shall find a nest of honey
within them."
"I preach deliverance to others, I tell them
there is freedom, while I hear my own chains
clang."
"Then I saw that there was a way to
hell, even from the gates of heaven."
"He who bestows his goods upon the
poor shall have as much again, and
ten times more."
"Therefore, I bind these lies and slanderous
accusations to my person as an ornament; it
belongs to my Christian profession to be vilified,
slandered, reproached and reviled, and since all
this is nothing but that, as God and my conscience
testify, I rejoice in being reproached for Christ's sake."
"Man indeed is the most noble, by creation,
of all the creatures in the visible World; but
by sin he has made himself the most ignoble."
Fr. Tony Nye SJ preaches on the parables of the grain, the mustard seed, and the Kingdom of God, (Mark 4):
“A reading from the Holy Gospel according to Mark: “Jesus said to the crowds, “This is what the Kingdom of God is like: a man seed throws on the land, night and day, while he sleeps, when he is awake, the seed is sprouting and growing—how, he does not know. Of its own accord, the land produces first the shoot, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear. When the crop is ready, he loses no time: he starts to reap, because the harvest has come.
‘He also said, “What can we say the Kingdom of God is like? What parable can we find for it? It is like a mustard seed, which at the time of its sowing in the soil, is the smallest of all the seeds on Earth, yet once it is sown, it grows into the biggest shrub of them all, and puts out big branches so that the birds of the air can shelter in its shade. Using many parables like these, He spoke the Word to them, so far as they were capable of understanding it. He would not speak to them except in parables, but He explained everything to his disciples when they were alone.” The Gospel of the Lord.
Those two little parables…seem to me to be speaking about Patience: patience with the Kingdom of God. We have to wait patiently for the harvest to come, like waiting for a little seed to sprout and grow, like the mustard seed, something tiny that becomes the greatest shrub.
I have just been on my annual retreat, spending a week of silence with the community of monks at Douai Abbey…the theme of Patience was an important one in my prayer. To be more patient with people when you might feel grumpy—I expect you all have to think about that sometime. To be patient with oneself: do you feel the need of that? And to be patient with God in the circumstances of one’s life and the difficulties of the world around us. That is what is called ‘waiting on God’—with trust in God’s ways.
Last Friday was the Feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus—the Word of God, loving us, guiding us, teaching us with a human heart, showing us humanity as it should to be. Jesus is the supreme example of patience for us to follow. He said: ‘Learn of Me, for I am meek and humble of heart.’ His whole life on Earth was to seek the will of His Father, whatever the cost, wherever it led. ‘My food,’ He said, ‘is to do the will of Him who sent me and to accomplish His work.’ That meant much patient waiting on the will of God His Father as an example for our lives, too. There was the silence and poverty of being born a baby, lying in the manger at Bethlehem, and then having to be taken as refugee to Egypt to escape King Herod. There were thirty silent years working as a carpenter in the out-of-the-way village of Nazareth, until the time that God His Father decreed He should appear in public.
His way of teaching and gathering followers was not to dominate, but invite, respecting human freedom with patience, respecting weakness as well as generosity in answer to His appeal. Think how patient He had to be with the growing opposition of the Pharisees and scribes, and how patient too with His disciples who were slow to understand His teaching, and especially slow and reluctant to accept that His way would be the way of the Cross and of suffering.
There was so much silent and dignified patience in undergoing that suffering: the humiliation by the soldiers, the fierce questioning when He was on trial, the scourging and crowning with thorns, the long ordeal of crucifixion.
The sign of His Sacred Heart is a heart that is pierced by the lance, because that showed that He had really died on the Cross. Even His appearances as the Risen Lord show His continuing patience; He gave His followers time to realise that He was indeed risen from the dead. They needed time to take it in and to understand its meaning. He gave them that time. He gives us time to come to know Him and to accept His ways, like the time it takes in those parables for the seed to sprout and grow, and the tiny mustard seed to become a tree or bush.
The day after the Feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, we celebrated the Immaculate Heart of Mary, for their lives, their hearts, their love and devotion were intertwined, Jesus and Mary. Mary, too, is a model of patience for us. We hear that she treasures and ‘pondered in her heart’ the strange events of her Son’s birth, giving them time for her to understand. We see her patiently, silently, sharing His suffering at the foot of the Cross, and patiently praying with the disciples and the women as they awaited the promise of the Holy Spirit after the Resurrection. May the example of Our Lord’s Sacred Heart and of the heart of His mother be an encouragement to us; may they be models for us, as they have been for so many people down the ages, especially when circumstances in life are hard and difficult to grasp.”
(Pictured: The Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart of Mary, stained glass window in Carmel of Lisieux, Normandy, France.)
All Saints, Gazeley, Suffolk.
There was never any doubt I would go to Rob's funeral. Rob was born just two weeks before me, and in our many meetings, we found we had so much in common.
A drive to Ipswich should be something like only two and a half hours, but with the Dartford Crossing that could balloon to four or more.
My choice was to leave early, soon after Jools left for work, or wait to near nine once rush hour was over. If I was up early, I'd leave early, I said.
Which is what happened.
So, after coffee and Jools leaving, I loaded my camera stuff in the car, not bothering to program in a destination, as I knew the route to Suffolk so well.
Checking the internet I found the M2 was closed, so that meant taking the M20, which I like as it runs beside HS2, although over the years, vegetation growth now hides most of it, and with Eurostar cutting services due to Brexit, you're lucky to see a train on the line now.
I had a phone loaded with podcasts, so time flew by, even if travelling through the endless roadworks at 50mph seemed to take forever.
Dartford was jammed. But we inched forward, until as the bridge came in sight, traffic moved smoothly, and I followed the traffic down into the east bore of the tunnel.
Another glorious morning for travel, the sun shone from a clear blue sky, even if traffic was heavy, but I had time, so not pressing on like I usually do, making the drive a pleasant one.
Up through Essex, where most other traffic turned off at Stanstead, then up to the A11 junction, with it being not yet nine, I had several hours to fill before the ceremony.
I stopped at Cambridge services for breakfast, then programmed the first church in: Gazeley, which is just in Suffolk on the border with Cambridgeshire.
I took the next junction off, took two further turnings brought be to the village, which is divided by one of the widest village streets I have ever seen.
It was five past nine: would the church be open?
I parked on the opposite side of the road, grabbed my bag and camera, limped over, passing a warden putting new notices in the parish notice board. We exchange good mornings, and I walk to the porch.
The inner door was unlocked, and the heavy door swung after turning the metal ring handle.
I had made a list of four churches from Simon's list of the top 60 Suffolk churches, picking those on or near my route to Ipswich and which piqued my interest.
Here, it was the reset mediaeval glass.
Needless to say, I had the church to myself, the centuries hanging heavy inside as sunlight flooded in filling the Chancel with warm golden light.
Windows had several devotional dials carved in the surrounding stone, and a huge and "stunningly beautiful piscina, and beside it are sedilia that end in an arm rest carved in the shape of a beast" which caught my eye.
A display in the Chancel was of the decoration of the wooden roof above where panels contained carved beasts, some actual and some mythical.
I photographed them all.
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All Saints is a large, remarkably good church in one of the sleepy, fat villages along the Cambridgeshire border, the sort of place you cycle through and imagine wistfully that you've won the lottery and could move there. The wide churchyard on both sides is a perfect setting for the church, which rises to heaven out of a perpendicular splendour of aisles, clerestories and battlements. The tower was complete by the 1470s when money was being left for a bell. The earlier chancel steadies the ship, anchoring it to earth quietly, although the tall east window has its spectacular moment too. And you step into a deliciously well-kept interior, full of interest.
One of the most significant medieval survivals here is not easily noticed. This is the range of 15th Century glass, which was reset by the Victorians high in the clerestory. This seems a curious thing to have done, since it defeats the purpose of a clerestory, but if they had not done so then we might have lost it. The glass matches the tracery in the north aisle windows, so that is probably where they came from. There are angels, three Saints and some shields, most of which are heraldic but two show the instruments of the passion and the Holy Trinity. I would not be surprised to learn that some of the shields are 19th century, but the figures are all original late 15th or early 16th century. The Saints are an unidentified Bishop, the hacksaw-wielding St Faith and one of my favourites, St Apollonia. She it was who was invoked by medieval people against toothache.
Waling from the nave up into the chancel, the space created by the clearing of clutter makes it at once mysterious and beautiful. Above, the early 16th century waggon roof is Suffolk's best of its kind. Mortlock points out the little angels bearing scrolls, the wheat ears and the vine sprays, and the surviving traces of colour. The low side window on the south side still has its hinges, for here it was that updraught to the rood would have sent the candles flickering in the mystical church of the 14th century. On the south side of the sanctuary is an exquisitely carved arched recess, that doesn't appear to have ever had a door, and may have been a very rare purpose-built Easter sepulchre at the time of the 1330s rebuilding. Opposite is a huge and stunningly beautiful piscina, and beside it are sedilia that end in an arm rest carved in the shape of a beast. It is one of the most significant Decorated moments in Suffolk.
On the floor of the chancel there is a tiny, perfect chalice brass, one of only two surviving in Suffolk. The other is at Rendham. Not far away is the indent of another chalice brass - or perhaps it was for the same one, and the brass has been moved for some reason. There are two chalice indents at Westhall, but nowhere else in Suffolk. Chalice brasses were popular memorials for Priests in the 15th and early 16th centuries, and thus were fair game for reformers. Heigham memorials of the late 16th century are on the walls. Back in the south aisle there is a splendid tombchest in Purbeck marble. It has lost its brasses, but the indents show us where they were, as do other indents in the aisle floors. Some heraldic brass shields survive, and show that Heighams were buried here. Brass inscriptions survive in the nave and the chancel, dating from the late 16th and early 17th centuries.
The 14th century font is a good example of the tracery pattern series that appeared in the decades before the Black Death. They may have been intended to spread ideas at that time of great artistic and intellectual flowering before it was so cruelly snatched away. The cover is 17th Century. At this end of the nave are two good ranges of medieval benches, one, rare in East Anglia, is a group of 14th Century benches with pierced tracery backs. Some of them appear to spell out words, and Mortlock thought one might say Salaman Sayet. The block of benches to the north appears to be 15th Century or possibly early 16th Century. Further north, the early 17th Century benches are simpler, even cruder, and were likely the work of the village carpenter.
All rather lovely then. And yet, it hasn't always been that way. All Saints at Gazeley, near Newmarket, was the first church that I visited after an international team of scientists conclusively proved that God did not exist began the first page for this church that I wrote in 2003, in a satirical mood after finding the church locked and at a very low ebb. At a time when congregations were generally falling, I'd been thinking about the future of medieval churches beyond a time when they would have people to use them in the traditional way. I wondered if the buildings might find new uses, or could adapt themselves to changing patterns and emphases in Christianity, or even changing spiritual needs of their parishes. Even if science could somehow prove that God did not exist, I suggested, there were parishes which would rise to the challenge and reinvent themselves, as churches have always done over the two millennia of Christianity. Coming to Gazeley I felt that here was a church which felt as if it had been abandoned. And yet, it seemed to me a church of such significance, such historical and spiritual importance, that its loss would be a disaster. If it had been clean, tidy and open at the time he was visiting, Simon Jenkins England's Thousand Best Churches would not have been able to resist it. Should the survival of such a treasure store depend upon the existence of God or the continued practice of the Christian faith? Or might there be other reasons to keep this extraordinary building in something like its present integrity?
In the first decade of the 21st Century, Gazeley church went on a tremendous journey, from being moribund to being the wonderful church you can visit today. If you want to read the slightly adapted 2006 entry for Gazeley, recounting this journey, you can do so here. Coming back here today always fills me with optimism for what can be achieved. On one occasion I mentioned my experiences of Gazeley church to a Catholic Priest friend of mine, and he said he hoped I knew I'd seen the power of the Holy Spirit at work. And perhaps that is so. Certainly, the energy and imagination of the people here have been fired by something. On that occasion I had wanted to find someone to ask about it, to find out how things stood now. But there was no one, and so the building spoke for them.
Back outside in the graveyard, the dog daisies clustered and waved their sun-kissed faces in the light breeze. The ancient building must have known many late-May days like this over the centuries, but think of all the changes that it has known inside! The general buffeting of the winds of history still leaves room for local squalls and lightning strikes. All Saints has known these, but for now a blessed calm reigns here. Long may it remain so.
Simon Knott, June 2019
There is a point in our lives when we, the children, become the adults in the relationship with our parents.
It will come for most of us, no one tells you this will happen, and you are unprepared for it. But it comes
And each of us has a different relationship with our parents than everyone else, what's right for me, and my views, do not apply to you.
Yesterday, was the funeral of the person I have known longer than anyone else on this earth, now that my family is all gone. Margaret and Brian were married a few weeks before mine, and moved into the new build bungalow also a few weeks before my parents.
They also had one child, a son, and Douglas and I have been friends longer than I have been friends with anyone else, although he is a year younger than me.
I have my views on Margaret, but the reason I travelled back to Suffolk for her funeral, was to be there for Douggie, and give him the support he has given me through three weddings and two funerals.
Norfolk isn't far away, and the funeral and wake were taking place just a mile or two over the border from Suffolk, but the roads beyond Ipswich are poor, twisty and where there are accidents or roadworks, no real alternative routes.
I was also leaving just before six, so had to get across the Thames at Dartford and up the A12 during rush hour, so it wouldn't be easy. But at least there would be no rain.
I was up at five, dressed and washed, with time to drink a coffee before leaving. Loading the car with me and my camera bag, as I had plans in case I had time, to visit a church or two.
It was dark up the M20 to Dartford, and busy with traffic, but I made good time, and listened to a loop of old music podcasts all day, so chat and music kept me awake.
I got onto the M25 with no problem, and through the tunnels with only a slight slowdown, but on the other side there were queues.
Despite not wanting to spend money on a new railway, there is always money for road and junction improvements, even if it will just increase traffic. So it is that the M25/A12 junction is being upgraded, and with narrow lanes, speed restrictions, jams began a good four miles before the roadworks started.
I forced my way to the left hand lane, which became a filter lane, meaning it was much quicker than the remaining four lanes. But then came the roundabout. The roundabout under the motorway is the reason the improvements are needed, and queueing traffic blocks the junctions and causes even more backlogs.
Of course, traffic lights on roundabouts are never good ideas, so I was confronted with a wall of traffic, so when the light went green, I went in front of a track before it could shuffle forward and block more of the junction, then there was some clear road.
And ducking into the extreme left hand lane, I dodged past the queuing traffic that was blocking the exit from the A12, and onto clear road.
Yay.
The sky was clear, the sun about to rise, and it was going to be a glorious day.
Just north of Chelmsford, I stopped for breakfast: two sausage rolls and a coffee from Greggs, then filled up the tank and on my way north.
More traffic at Ipswich where the A12 meets the A14 to get over the Orwell, but then clear traffic again after ten minutes delay.
Soon, though, the road narrows to two lane blacktop, and all is well until you meet a slower vehicle. Like a tractor as we did soon after Whickham Market.
For 15 long minutes the tractor lead a growing snake of cars along the winding lanes until it pulled over and we could get past.
Blythburgh was always the marker when travelling back from Ipswich or beyond, that we were nearly home. he handsome church sits high, for Suffolk, overlooking the village and river which is mostly mudflats.
The busy A12 skirts close, but you get to the church via a narrow land, leaving the modern world far behind.
The church opened at nine, it was nearly half past, it was probably open before nine, and was open when I pushed the porch door.
Inside is an unspoilt space, grey wood that have witnessed the centuries so that their vigour has faded to almost no colour of all.
Its the roof people come for. Wooden beams and pairs of wooden angels. I have brought my big lens so to snap them.
My plan was to visit the large and impressive church in Southwold. I turned off the A12 and drove along the straight road into the town, where I found multiple sets of roadworks, and few places to park for a short time, anywhere near the church.
My back is achy, so I wanted somewhere close to park. Anyway, I drove round the town twice, found nowhere to park, so turned the car round and headed back north, until I came to South Cove.
South Cove is a small village, a few farms really, but has a fine, if rustic, well-proportioned church, set in a large churchyard.
And the church was open, so small the wide angle lens wasn't needed, and with windows close to the floor too, no big lens needed either.
Next town up is Kessingland, which until the 80s had the A12 running through the centre of it, but now a bypass lays to the west and the village is quiet. I don't think I had been of the main street, so I went in search of the church, and found it on Church Street.
Obviously.
I rarely research churches before I visit, so nothing prepared me for the interior of St Edmund.
It seems in the last two years, they church had sourced some banners with apt slogans on, banners which were made to look like large tapered ensigns, hanging from or along the supports of the roof.
A man was practicing on the organ, and the notes echoed round the church. Not only does the church have banners, it has ship's wheels and other nautical stuff, although most traditionalists won't like it, I think it hangs together, and if the congregation wants it thus, who are we to argue?
Next stop was South Cove, which I had forgotten I had visited before, so redid all my shots. But this time did see the panel featuring St Michael behind the font, where the rood steps began.
A small, perfect, church, perfect for a small country parish.
I take my shots and leave, driving back onto the A12 and heading into Lowestoft, my main task was to drive over the new bridge which spans Lake Lothing.
The town had been waiting since at least 1966 for a new bridge, and the 3rd crossing was opened in September, and offers fine views as you drive across.
I went to see the old family home. It has been renovated and looks splendid, and not much like it was when sold four years back, it looks cared for and lived in, which is what the buyer promised us he would do.
So then to the crematorium, a drive north through Gunton and past Hopton where Dougie lives, then through the housing estate behind the area hospital to the car park, and then wait.
Margaret was 89, had a long life, but friends of the same age are few, and families are now scattered. So, one can never be sure how many will attend. The chapel was half full at least, with people coming from Kent, Wiltshire and even California to be there.
The celebrant spoke for twenty minutes, saying nice things as they have to do. But, avoiding, or just hinting at faults. Whatever she had done in her life to Dougie, he still loved her, and he was in bits.
Afterward we lined up to shake his hand or give him and Pennie a hug, and allowed me to tell him he was the brother I never had. He was always there for me, and will be there for him.
More tears.
There was a wake at the pub in Hopton, but there was no one I knew other than Dougie and Penny, so I had a drink and made my excuses. These things are really for family and close friends, so I left at quarter to three, hoping to get home before midnight.
In the end, I made good time, I was going round Ipswich before four, and at the M25 junction less than an hour later, and was able to easily join it and zoom round to the bridge. No queues on the southbound side, but the queue northbound went all the way back to the M20 junction, so six mines.
I zoomed on.
I got home at ten past six, happy to have done it and go home in under three and a half hours. Dinner was defrosted ragu, pasta and reheated focaccia, which we were sitting down to eat twenty minutes after getting in.
Phew.
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Perhaps some counties have a church which sums them up. If there has to be one for Suffolk, it must be the church of the Most Holy Trinity, Blythburgh. Here is the late medieval Suffolk imagination writ large, as large as it gets, and not overwritten by the Anglican triumphalism of the 19th century. Blythburgh church is often compared with its near neighbour, St Edmund at Southwold, but this isn't a fair comparison - Southwold church is much grander, and full of urban confidence. Probably a better comparison is with St Margaret, Lowestoft, for there, too, the Reformation intervened before the tower could be rebuilt. The two churches have a lot in common, but Blythburgh has the saving grace. It is so fascinating, so stunningly beautiful, by virtue of a factor that is rare in Anglican parish churches: sheer neglect.
Holy Trinity, Blythburgh, is the church that Suffolk people know and love best, and because of this it has generated some extraordinary legends. The first is that Blythburgh, now a tiny village bisected by the fearsome A12 between London and the east coast ports, was once a thriving medieval town. This idea is used to explain the size of the church; in reality, it is almost certainly not the case. Blythburgh has always been small. But it did have an important medieval priory, and thus its church attracted enough wealthy piety on the eve of the Reformation to bankroll a spectacular rebuilding.
It is to Lavenham, Long Melford, Mildenhall, Southwold and here that we come to see the late 15th century Suffolk aesthetic in perfection. But for my money, Holy Trinity, Blythburgh, is the most significant medieval art object in the county, ranking alongside Salle in Norfolk. Look up at the clerestory; it seems impossible, there is so much glass, so little stone; and yet it rides the building with an air of permanence. Beneath, there is a coyness about the aisles that I prefer to the mathematics of Lavenham. Here, it could not have been done otherwise; it distils human architectural experience. If St Peter and St Paul at Lavenham is man talking to God, Holy Trinity at Blythburgh is God talking to man.
At the east end, a curious series of initials in Lombardic script stretch across the outer chancel wall. You can see an image of this at the top. It reads A-N-JS-B-S-T-M-S-A-H-K-R. This probably stands for Ad Nomina JesuS, Beati Sanctae Trinitas, Maria Sanctorem Anne Honorem Katherine Reconstructus ('In the name of the blessed Jesus, the Holy Trinity, and in honour of Holy Mary, Anne and Katherine, this was rebuilt'). A fanciful theory is that they are the initials of the wives of the donors. However, note the symbol of the Trinity in the T stone, and I think this is a clue to the whole piece.
Figures stand on pedestals atop the south side and east end. The most easterly is unusual, a crowned old man sitting on a throne directly on the gable end. This is a medieval image of God the Father, a rare survival. Moving westwards from here we find the Blessed Virgin in prayerful pose, Christ as the Saviour of the World holding an orb in one hand and blessing with the other, and then a collared bear with a ragged staff, a seated woodwose, another bear, this time with a collar and bell, and last of all a fox with a goose in its mouth, his jaws grasping the neck:
The porch is part of the late 15th century rebuilding, but it was considerably restored in the early 20th century. Interestingly, the angels crowning the battlements look medieval - but they weren't there in 1900, so must have come from somewhere else. Pretty much all the porch's features of interest date from this time. These include the small medieval font pressed into service as a holy water stoup, and image niche above the doors. This has been filled in more recent years by an image if the Holy Trinity; God the Father holds the Son suspended while a dove representing the Holy Spirit alights; you can see medieval versions of this at Framlingham and Little Glemham. Of all medieval imagery, this was the most frowned upon by puritans. An image of God the Father was thought the most suspicious of all idolatries. Indeed, as late as the 1870s, when the Reverend White edited the first popular edition of the Diary of William Dowsing, he actually congratulated Dowsing on destroying images of the Holy Trinity in the course of his 1644 progress through the counties of Suffolk and Cambridgeshire.
William Dowsing visited on the morning on April 9th, 1644. It was a Tuesday, and he had spent most of the week in the area. The previous day he'd been at Southwold and Walberswick to the east, but preceded his visit here with one to Blyford, which lies to the west, so he was probably staying overnight at the family home in Laxfield. He found twenty images in stained glass to take to task (a surprisingly small number, given the size of the place) and two hundred more that were inaccessible that morning (probably in the great east window). Three brass inscriptions incurred his wrath (but again, this is curious; there were many more) and he also ordered down the cross on the porch and the cross on the tower. Most significantly of all, he decided the angels in the roof should go.
Lots of Suffolk churches have angels in their roofs. None are like Blythburgh's. You step inside, and there they are, exactly as you've seen them in books and in photographs. They are awesome, breathtaking. There are twelve of them. Perhaps there were once twenty. How would you get them down if ordered to do so? The roof is so high, and the stencilling of IHS symbols would also have to go.
Perhaps this was already indistinct by the time Dowsing visited. Perhaps Tuesday, 9th of April 1644 was a dull day.
Several of the angels are peppered with lead shot. Here is another of those Suffolk legends; that Dowsing and the churchwardens fired muskets at the angels to try and bring them down. But when the angels were restored in the 1970s, the lead shot removed was found to be 18th century; contemporary with them there is a note in the churchwardens accounts that men were paid for shooting jackdaws living inside the building, so that probably explains where the shot came from. Here are some details of that wonderful roof:
The otherwise splendid church guide also repeats the error that the Holy Trinity symbol in the porch filled a gap that had been 'empty since 1644'. But there was certainly no image in it when Dowsing arrived here, or anywhere else in Suffolk; statues were completely outlawed by injunctions in the early years of the reign of Edward VI, almost a hundred years before the morning of Dowsing's visit.
Another feature used as evidence of puritan destruction is the ring fixed into the most westerly pillar of the north arcade. Cromwell's men stabled their horses here, apparently. Well, it almost certainly is a ring for tying horses to, and the broken bricks at the cleared west end also suggest this; but there is no reason to think that Cromwell and the puritans were responsible. For a full century before Cromwell, and for nearly two hundred years afterwards, a church as big as this would have had a multitude of uses. Holy Trinity was built for the rituals of the Catholic church; once these were no longer allowed, a village like Blythburgh, which can never have had more than 500 people, would have seen it as an asset in other ways. It was only with the 19th century sacramental revival brought about by the Oxford Movement that we started getting all holy again about our parish churches. Perhaps it was used as an overnight stables for passing travellers on the main road; not an un-Christian use for it to be put to, I think.
In August 1577, a great storm brought down the steeple, which fell into the church and damaged the font. This was at the height of Elizabethan superstition, and the devil was blamed; his hoof marks can still be seen on the church door. Supposedly, a black dog ran through the church, killing two parishioners; he was seen the same day at St Mary, Bungay. Black Shuck is the East Anglian devil dog, the feared hound of the marshes; and Holy Trinity is the self-styled Cathedral of the Marshes, so it is appropriate that he appeared here. You can see where the font has been broken. You can also see that this was one of the rare, beautiful seven sacrament fonts, similar in style to the one at Westhall; but, like those at neighbouring Wenhaston and Southwold, it has been completely stripped of imagery. Almost certainly, this was in the 1540s, but there is a story that the font at Wenhaston was chiselled clean as part of the 19th century restoration. More importantly in any case, the storm, or the dog, or the devil, damaged the roof; it would not be properly repaired for more than 400 years. Throughout the 17th and 18th centuries, accounts note that Holy Trinity is not impregnable to the weather. By the 19th century, parishioners attended divine service with umbrellas. By the 1880s, it was a positively dangerous building to be in, and the Bishop of Norwich ordered it closed.
Why had Holy Trinity not been restored? Simply, this is a big church, with a tiny village. There was no rich patron, and in any case the parishioners had a passion for Methodism. Probably, repairs had been mooted, but not a wholesale restoration as we have seen at Lavenham, Long Melford and Southwold. By the 1880s, attention in England had turned to the preservation of medieval detail; in short, restorations were not as ignorant as they had been a quarter of a century earlier. Suggestions that Holy Trinity should be restored in the manner of the other three were blocked by the Society for the Preservation of Ancient Buildings, and this owed a lot to the energy of William Morris, the Society's secretary.
The slow, patient restoration of this building took the best part of a century; indeed, when I first visited in the 1980s I was still aware of a sense of decay.
Nothing could be further from the truth today. You step into a wide, white, open space, one of England's great church interiors. There, high above you, is the glorious roof and the angels of God. The brick floors spread around the scraped font, which still bears its dedicatory inscription and standing places for participants. You turn into the central gangway, and more than twenty empty indents for brasses stretch before you. Dowsing can be blamed for the destruction of hardly any of them. In reality, you see the work of 18th and 19th century thieves and collectors.
The bench-ends are superb. The benches themselves were reconstructed in the late 19th century, supposedly from the main post of Westleton windmill, but the ends are some of the county's finest medieval images. There are partial sets of basically three series: the Seven Deadly Sins, the Seven Works of Mercy, and the Labours of the Seasons. There are also angels bearing symbols of the Holy Trinity and the Crown. There are other figures too, obscure and fragmentary and whose purpose is unclear, as if surviving figments of a broken dream. The quality of what remains makes you grieve for what has been lost.
The rood screen is a disappointment; most of it is modern, and the medieval bits perfunctory and scoured. Having said this, note how tiny the exit from the north aisle rood loft stair is. Also at this end of the church, a scattering of medieval glass, mainly angels. There is more in the south aisle, including a collection of shields of the Holy Trinity:
But step through the central aisle to see something remarkable. The priest and choir stalls are fronted by exquisite carvings of the Apostles, the Evangelists, John the Baptist, St Stephen, Mary Queen of Heaven and Christ in Majesty. Seeing these eighteen carvings is a bit like gobbling up a very large box of chocolates, but it is worth stopping to consider quite how genuine they all are. For a start, there could not have been choir stalls here in medieval times, and in any case we know that these desks and their frontages were in the north aisle chapel until the 19th century. They were used as school benches in the 17th century; they still bear holes for inkpots, and the graffiti of a bored Dutch child (his father was probably working on draining the marshes) is dated 1665. There is nothing at all like them anywhere else in Suffolk.
Whatever, the east end of the chancel and aisles are thrillingly modern, wholly devotional. In the north aisle, traditionally the Hopton chantry, extraordinary friezes of skeletons become symbols of the four evangelists behind the altar. Beside them is Peter Ball's beautiful Madonna and Child. Separating the south aisle chapel from the sanctuary is is one of Suffolk's biggest Easter sepulchres, tomb of the Hoptons. Behind the high altar, branches arranged like huge stag antlers spread dramatically. It is all just about perfect. Tucked to one side of the organ is a clockjack; Suffolk has two, and the other is down-river at Southwold. They date from the late 17th century, and presumably once struck the hours; at high church Blythburgh and Southwold today, they are used to announce the entry of the ministers.
This is a wonderful church to wander around in, the light and the air changing with the seasons, a suffused sense of the numinous presenting its different faces according to the time of day and time of year. Come here on a bright spring morning, or in the drowsy heat of a summer's day. Come on a cold winter afternoon as the colours fade and the smell of woodsmoke from neighbouring cottages weaves a spell above the old stone floors and woodwork. And before you leave, find the doorway in the south-west corner of the nave. It opens onto a low, narrow stairway. You can go up it. It leads up into the parvise storey of the south porch, now reappointed and dedicated as a tiny chapel, a peaceful spot to spend a few moments before continuing your journey.
You may be reading this entry in a far-off land; or perhaps you are here at home. Whatever, if you have not visited this church, then I urge you to do so. It is the most beautiful church in Suffolk, a wonderful art object, and it is always open in daylight. It remains one of the most significant medieval buildings in England. If you only visit one of Suffolk's churches, then make it this one
Simon Knott, 2014.
There is a point in our lives when we, the children, become the adults in the relationship with our parents.
It will come for most of us, no one tells you this will happen, and you are unprepared for it. But it comes
And each of us has a different relationship with our parents than everyone else, what's right for me, and my views, do not apply to you.
Yesterday, was the funeral of the person I have known longer than anyone else on this earth, now that my family is all gone. Margaret and Brian were married a few weeks before mine, and moved into the new build bungalow also a few weeks before my parents.
They also had one child, a son, and Douglas and I have been friends longer than I have been friends with anyone else, although he is a year younger than me.
I have my views on Margaret, but the reason I travelled back to Suffolk for her funeral, was to be there for Douggie, and give him the support he has given me through three weddings and two funerals.
Norfolk isn't far away, and the funeral and wake were taking place just a mile or two over the border from Suffolk, but the roads beyond Ipswich are poor, twisty and where there are accidents or roadworks, no real alternative routes.
I was also leaving just before six, so had to get across the Thames at Dartford and up the A12 during rush hour, so it wouldn't be easy. But at least there would be no rain.
I was up at five, dressed and washed, with time to drink a coffee before leaving. Loading the car with me and my camera bag, as I had plans in case I had time, to visit a church or two.
It was dark up the M20 to Dartford, and busy with traffic, but I made good time, and listened to a loop of old music podcasts all day, so chat and music kept me awake.
I got onto the M25 with no problem, and through the tunnels with only a slight slowdown, but on the other side there were queues.
Despite not wanting to spend money on a new railway, there is always money for road and junction improvements, even if it will just increase traffic. So it is that the M25/A12 junction is being upgraded, and with narrow lanes, speed restrictions, jams began a good four miles before the roadworks started.
I forced my way to the left hand lane, which became a filter lane, meaning it was much quicker than the remaining four lanes. But then came the roundabout. The roundabout under the motorway is the reason the improvements are needed, and queueing traffic blocks the junctions and causes even more backlogs.
Of course, traffic lights on roundabouts are never good ideas, so I was confronted with a wall of traffic, so when the light went green, I went in front of a track before it could shuffle forward and block more of the junction, then there was some clear road.
And ducking into the extreme left hand lane, I dodged past the queuing traffic that was blocking the exit from the A12, and onto clear road.
Yay.
The sky was clear, the sun about to rise, and it was going to be a glorious day.
Just north of Chelmsford, I stopped for breakfast: two sausage rolls and a coffee from Greggs, then filled up the tank and on my way north.
More traffic at Ipswich where the A12 meets the A14 to get over the Orwell, but then clear traffic again after ten minutes delay.
Soon, though, the road narrows to two lane blacktop, and all is well until you meet a slower vehicle. Like a tractor as we did soon after Whickham Market.
For 15 long minutes the tractor lead a growing snake of cars along the winding lanes until it pulled over and we could get past.
Blythburgh was always the marker when travelling back from Ipswich or beyond, that we were nearly home. he handsome church sits high, for Suffolk, overlooking the village and river which is mostly mudflats.
The busy A12 skirts close, but you get to the church via a narrow land, leaving the modern world far behind.
The church opened at nine, it was nearly half past, it was probably open before nine, and was open when I pushed the porch door.
Inside is an unspoilt space, grey wood that have witnessed the centuries so that their vigour has faded to almost no colour of all.
Its the roof people come for. Wooden beams and pairs of wooden angels. I have brought my big lens so to snap them.
My plan was to visit the large and impressive church in Southwold. I turned off the A12 and drove along the straight road into the town, where I found multiple sets of roadworks, and few places to park for a short time, anywhere near the church.
My back is achy, so I wanted somewhere close to park. Anyway, I drove round the town twice, found nowhere to park, so turned the car round and headed back north, until I came to South Cove.
South Cove is a small village, a few farms really, but has a fine, if rustic, well-proportioned church, set in a large churchyard.
And the church was open, so small the wide angle lens wasn't needed, and with windows close to the floor too, no big lens needed either.
Next town up is Kessingland, which until the 80s had the A12 running through the centre of it, but now a bypass lays to the west and the village is quiet. I don't think I had been of the main street, so I went in search of the church, and found it on Church Street.
Obviously.
I rarely research churches before I visit, so nothing prepared me for the interior of St Edmund.
It seems in the last two years, they church had sourced some banners with apt slogans on, banners which were made to look like large tapered ensigns, hanging from or along the supports of the roof.
A man was practicing on the organ, and the notes echoed round the church. Not only does the church have banners, it has ship's wheels and other nautical stuff, although most traditionalists won't like it, I think it hangs together, and if the congregation wants it thus, who are we to argue?
Next stop was South Cove, which I had forgotten I had visited before, so redid all my shots. But this time did see the panel featuring St Michael behind the font, where the rood steps began.
A small, perfect, church, perfect for a small country parish.
I take my shots and leave, driving back onto the A12 and heading into Lowestoft, my main task was to drive over the new bridge which spans Lake Lothing.
The town had been waiting since at least 1966 for a new bridge, and the 3rd crossing was opened in September, and offers fine views as you drive across.
I went to see the old family home. It has been renovated and looks splendid, and not much like it was when sold four years back, it looks cared for and lived in, which is what the buyer promised us he would do.
So then to the crematorium, a drive north through Gunton and past Hopton where Dougie lives, then through the housing estate behind the area hospital to the car park, and then wait.
Margaret was 89, had a long life, but friends of the same age are few, and families are now scattered. So, one can never be sure how many will attend. The chapel was half full at least, with people coming from Kent, Wiltshire and even California to be there.
The celebrant spoke for twenty minutes, saying nice things as they have to do. But, avoiding, or just hinting at faults. Whatever she had done in her life to Dougie, he still loved her, and he was in bits.
Afterward we lined up to shake his hand or give him and Pennie a hug, and allowed me to tell him he was the brother I never had. He was always there for me, and will be there for him.
More tears.
There was a wake at the pub in Hopton, but there was no one I knew other than Dougie and Penny, so I had a drink and made my excuses. These things are really for family and close friends, so I left at quarter to three, hoping to get home before midnight.
In the end, I made good time, I was going round Ipswich before four, and at the M25 junction less than an hour later, and was able to easily join it and zoom round to the bridge. No queues on the southbound side, but the queue northbound went all the way back to the M20 junction, so six mines.
I zoomed on.
I got home at ten past six, happy to have done it and go home in under three and a half hours. Dinner was defrosted ragu, pasta and reheated focaccia, which we were sitting down to eat twenty minutes after getting in.
Phew.
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Perhaps some counties have a church which sums them up. If there has to be one for Suffolk, it must be the church of the Most Holy Trinity, Blythburgh. Here is the late medieval Suffolk imagination writ large, as large as it gets, and not overwritten by the Anglican triumphalism of the 19th century. Blythburgh church is often compared with its near neighbour, St Edmund at Southwold, but this isn't a fair comparison - Southwold church is much grander, and full of urban confidence. Probably a better comparison is with St Margaret, Lowestoft, for there, too, the Reformation intervened before the tower could be rebuilt. The two churches have a lot in common, but Blythburgh has the saving grace. It is so fascinating, so stunningly beautiful, by virtue of a factor that is rare in Anglican parish churches: sheer neglect.
Holy Trinity, Blythburgh, is the church that Suffolk people know and love best, and because of this it has generated some extraordinary legends. The first is that Blythburgh, now a tiny village bisected by the fearsome A12 between London and the east coast ports, was once a thriving medieval town. This idea is used to explain the size of the church; in reality, it is almost certainly not the case. Blythburgh has always been small. But it did have an important medieval priory, and thus its church attracted enough wealthy piety on the eve of the Reformation to bankroll a spectacular rebuilding.
It is to Lavenham, Long Melford, Mildenhall, Southwold and here that we come to see the late 15th century Suffolk aesthetic in perfection. But for my money, Holy Trinity, Blythburgh, is the most significant medieval art object in the county, ranking alongside Salle in Norfolk. Look up at the clerestory; it seems impossible, there is so much glass, so little stone; and yet it rides the building with an air of permanence. Beneath, there is a coyness about the aisles that I prefer to the mathematics of Lavenham. Here, it could not have been done otherwise; it distils human architectural experience. If St Peter and St Paul at Lavenham is man talking to God, Holy Trinity at Blythburgh is God talking to man.
At the east end, a curious series of initials in Lombardic script stretch across the outer chancel wall. You can see an image of this at the top. It reads A-N-JS-B-S-T-M-S-A-H-K-R. This probably stands for Ad Nomina JesuS, Beati Sanctae Trinitas, Maria Sanctorem Anne Honorem Katherine Reconstructus ('In the name of the blessed Jesus, the Holy Trinity, and in honour of Holy Mary, Anne and Katherine, this was rebuilt'). A fanciful theory is that they are the initials of the wives of the donors. However, note the symbol of the Trinity in the T stone, and I think this is a clue to the whole piece.
Figures stand on pedestals atop the south side and east end. The most easterly is unusual, a crowned old man sitting on a throne directly on the gable end. This is a medieval image of God the Father, a rare survival. Moving westwards from here we find the Blessed Virgin in prayerful pose, Christ as the Saviour of the World holding an orb in one hand and blessing with the other, and then a collared bear with a ragged staff, a seated woodwose, another bear, this time with a collar and bell, and last of all a fox with a goose in its mouth, his jaws grasping the neck:
The porch is part of the late 15th century rebuilding, but it was considerably restored in the early 20th century. Interestingly, the angels crowning the battlements look medieval - but they weren't there in 1900, so must have come from somewhere else. Pretty much all the porch's features of interest date from this time. These include the small medieval font pressed into service as a holy water stoup, and image niche above the doors. This has been filled in more recent years by an image if the Holy Trinity; God the Father holds the Son suspended while a dove representing the Holy Spirit alights; you can see medieval versions of this at Framlingham and Little Glemham. Of all medieval imagery, this was the most frowned upon by puritans. An image of God the Father was thought the most suspicious of all idolatries. Indeed, as late as the 1870s, when the Reverend White edited the first popular edition of the Diary of William Dowsing, he actually congratulated Dowsing on destroying images of the Holy Trinity in the course of his 1644 progress through the counties of Suffolk and Cambridgeshire.
William Dowsing visited on the morning on April 9th, 1644. It was a Tuesday, and he had spent most of the week in the area. The previous day he'd been at Southwold and Walberswick to the east, but preceded his visit here with one to Blyford, which lies to the west, so he was probably staying overnight at the family home in Laxfield. He found twenty images in stained glass to take to task (a surprisingly small number, given the size of the place) and two hundred more that were inaccessible that morning (probably in the great east window). Three brass inscriptions incurred his wrath (but again, this is curious; there were many more) and he also ordered down the cross on the porch and the cross on the tower. Most significantly of all, he decided the angels in the roof should go.
Lots of Suffolk churches have angels in their roofs. None are like Blythburgh's. You step inside, and there they are, exactly as you've seen them in books and in photographs. They are awesome, breathtaking. There are twelve of them. Perhaps there were once twenty. How would you get them down if ordered to do so? The roof is so high, and the stencilling of IHS symbols would also have to go.
Perhaps this was already indistinct by the time Dowsing visited. Perhaps Tuesday, 9th of April 1644 was a dull day.
Several of the angels are peppered with lead shot. Here is another of those Suffolk legends; that Dowsing and the churchwardens fired muskets at the angels to try and bring them down. But when the angels were restored in the 1970s, the lead shot removed was found to be 18th century; contemporary with them there is a note in the churchwardens accounts that men were paid for shooting jackdaws living inside the building, so that probably explains where the shot came from. Here are some details of that wonderful roof:
The otherwise splendid church guide also repeats the error that the Holy Trinity symbol in the porch filled a gap that had been 'empty since 1644'. But there was certainly no image in it when Dowsing arrived here, or anywhere else in Suffolk; statues were completely outlawed by injunctions in the early years of the reign of Edward VI, almost a hundred years before the morning of Dowsing's visit.
Another feature used as evidence of puritan destruction is the ring fixed into the most westerly pillar of the north arcade. Cromwell's men stabled their horses here, apparently. Well, it almost certainly is a ring for tying horses to, and the broken bricks at the cleared west end also suggest this; but there is no reason to think that Cromwell and the puritans were responsible. For a full century before Cromwell, and for nearly two hundred years afterwards, a church as big as this would have had a multitude of uses. Holy Trinity was built for the rituals of the Catholic church; once these were no longer allowed, a village like Blythburgh, which can never have had more than 500 people, would have seen it as an asset in other ways. It was only with the 19th century sacramental revival brought about by the Oxford Movement that we started getting all holy again about our parish churches. Perhaps it was used as an overnight stables for passing travellers on the main road; not an un-Christian use for it to be put to, I think.
In August 1577, a great storm brought down the steeple, which fell into the church and damaged the font. This was at the height of Elizabethan superstition, and the devil was blamed; his hoof marks can still be seen on the church door. Supposedly, a black dog ran through the church, killing two parishioners; he was seen the same day at St Mary, Bungay. Black Shuck is the East Anglian devil dog, the feared hound of the marshes; and Holy Trinity is the self-styled Cathedral of the Marshes, so it is appropriate that he appeared here. You can see where the font has been broken. You can also see that this was one of the rare, beautiful seven sacrament fonts, similar in style to the one at Westhall; but, like those at neighbouring Wenhaston and Southwold, it has been completely stripped of imagery. Almost certainly, this was in the 1540s, but there is a story that the font at Wenhaston was chiselled clean as part of the 19th century restoration. More importantly in any case, the storm, or the dog, or the devil, damaged the roof; it would not be properly repaired for more than 400 years. Throughout the 17th and 18th centuries, accounts note that Holy Trinity is not impregnable to the weather. By the 19th century, parishioners attended divine service with umbrellas. By the 1880s, it was a positively dangerous building to be in, and the Bishop of Norwich ordered it closed.
Why had Holy Trinity not been restored? Simply, this is a big church, with a tiny village. There was no rich patron, and in any case the parishioners had a passion for Methodism. Probably, repairs had been mooted, but not a wholesale restoration as we have seen at Lavenham, Long Melford and Southwold. By the 1880s, attention in England had turned to the preservation of medieval detail; in short, restorations were not as ignorant as they had been a quarter of a century earlier. Suggestions that Holy Trinity should be restored in the manner of the other three were blocked by the Society for the Preservation of Ancient Buildings, and this owed a lot to the energy of William Morris, the Society's secretary.
The slow, patient restoration of this building took the best part of a century; indeed, when I first visited in the 1980s I was still aware of a sense of decay.
Nothing could be further from the truth today. You step into a wide, white, open space, one of England's great church interiors. There, high above you, is the glorious roof and the angels of God. The brick floors spread around the scraped font, which still bears its dedicatory inscription and standing places for participants. You turn into the central gangway, and more than twenty empty indents for brasses stretch before you. Dowsing can be blamed for the destruction of hardly any of them. In reality, you see the work of 18th and 19th century thieves and collectors.
The bench-ends are superb. The benches themselves were reconstructed in the late 19th century, supposedly from the main post of Westleton windmill, but the ends are some of the county's finest medieval images. There are partial sets of basically three series: the Seven Deadly Sins, the Seven Works of Mercy, and the Labours of the Seasons. There are also angels bearing symbols of the Holy Trinity and the Crown. There are other figures too, obscure and fragmentary and whose purpose is unclear, as if surviving figments of a broken dream. The quality of what remains makes you grieve for what has been lost.
The rood screen is a disappointment; most of it is modern, and the medieval bits perfunctory and scoured. Having said this, note how tiny the exit from the north aisle rood loft stair is. Also at this end of the church, a scattering of medieval glass, mainly angels. There is more in the south aisle, including a collection of shields of the Holy Trinity:
But step through the central aisle to see something remarkable. The priest and choir stalls are fronted by exquisite carvings of the Apostles, the Evangelists, John the Baptist, St Stephen, Mary Queen of Heaven and Christ in Majesty. Seeing these eighteen carvings is a bit like gobbling up a very large box of chocolates, but it is worth stopping to consider quite how genuine they all are. For a start, there could not have been choir stalls here in medieval times, and in any case we know that these desks and their frontages were in the north aisle chapel until the 19th century. They were used as school benches in the 17th century; they still bear holes for inkpots, and the graffiti of a bored Dutch child (his father was probably working on draining the marshes) is dated 1665. There is nothing at all like them anywhere else in Suffolk.
Whatever, the east end of the chancel and aisles are thrillingly modern, wholly devotional. In the north aisle, traditionally the Hopton chantry, extraordinary friezes of skeletons become symbols of the four evangelists behind the altar. Beside them is Peter Ball's beautiful Madonna and Child. Separating the south aisle chapel from the sanctuary is is one of Suffolk's biggest Easter sepulchres, tomb of the Hoptons. Behind the high altar, branches arranged like huge stag antlers spread dramatically. It is all just about perfect. Tucked to one side of the organ is a clockjack; Suffolk has two, and the other is down-river at Southwold. They date from the late 17th century, and presumably once struck the hours; at high church Blythburgh and Southwold today, they are used to announce the entry of the ministers.
This is a wonderful church to wander around in, the light and the air changing with the seasons, a suffused sense of the numinous presenting its different faces according to the time of day and time of year. Come here on a bright spring morning, or in the drowsy heat of a summer's day. Come on a cold winter afternoon as the colours fade and the smell of woodsmoke from neighbouring cottages weaves a spell above the old stone floors and woodwork. And before you leave, find the doorway in the south-west corner of the nave. It opens onto a low, narrow stairway. You can go up it. It leads up into the parvise storey of the south porch, now reappointed and dedicated as a tiny chapel, a peaceful spot to spend a few moments before continuing your journey.
You may be reading this entry in a far-off land; or perhaps you are here at home. Whatever, if you have not visited this church, then I urge you to do so. It is the most beautiful church in Suffolk, a wonderful art object, and it is always open in daylight. It remains one of the most significant medieval buildings in England. If you only visit one of Suffolk's churches, then make it this one
Simon Knott, 2014.
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Fonte dell'immagine: Il Lampo da Levante
Condizioni d'Uso: Avviso legale e condizioni per l’uso
Obbedire a Dio nella fede in Lui
Perché credi in Dio? La maggior parte delle persone rimane spaesata da questa domanda. Queste persone hanno sempre due punti di vista del tutto diversi sul Dio pratico e sul Dio del cielo; il che dimostra che credono in Dio non per obbedirGli, ma per ricevere determinati vantaggi, o per sfuggire alla sofferenza del disastro. Solo allora diventano un po’ obbedienti, ma si tratta di un’obbedienza condizionata, mirata alla realizzazione delle loro aspettative personali, un’obbedienza forzata. Allora perché credi in Dio? Se è solo per amore delle tue possibilità future e per il tuo fato, è meglio non credere. Un simile modo di credere è ingannare se stessi, rassicurarsi, autostimarsi. Se non costruisci la tua fede sulle fondamenta dell’obbedienza a Dio, finirai per essere punito come conseguenza dell’opposizione a Dio. Chiunque creda senza cercare di obbedire a Dio, è contro di Lui. Dio chiede alle persone di cercare la verità, di anelare alle Sue parole, di mangiare e bere le Sue parole, e di metterle in pratica al fine di realizzare l’obbedienza verso di Lui. Se le tue motivazioni sono davvero queste, Dio ti eleverà e sarà sicuramente misericordioso con te. Nessuno può metterlo in dubbio, nessuno può cambiare questa situazione. Se le tue motivazioni non sono di obbedire a Dio, se hai altri scopi, allora tutto ciò che dici e fai – le preghiere al cospetto di Dio, e perfino ogni tua singola azione – sarà contro Dio. Puoi avere toni pacati e modi gentili, ogni tua azione ed espressione può sembrare giusta, puoi dare l’impressione di essere obbediente, ma quanto alle tue motivazioni e opinioni riguardo alla fede in Dio, tutto ciò che fai è contro Dio, ed è malvagio. Le persone all’apparenza docili come pecore, ma che serbano nel cuore cattive intenzioni, sono lupi in veste di agnelli, offendono Dio direttamente, e Dio non risparmierà nessuna di esse. Lo Spirito Santo le smaschererà tutte, così tutti vedranno che chiunque si comporti da ipocrita sarà certamente detestato e rifiutato dallo Spirito Santo. Non preoccuparti: Dio Se ne occuperà e troverà una soluzione per ciascuna di tali persone.
Se non sei in grado di accettare la nuova luce di Dio, e non comprendi quanto Egli compie oggi, e non lo cerchi, o ne dubiti, lo giudichi, o lo esamini e analizzi, non hai intenzione di obbedire a Dio. Se, quando appare la luce del qui e ora, continui a custodire gelosamente la luce di ieri e ti opponi alla nuova opera di Dio, non sei altro che uno zimbello, uno di coloro che si oppongono deliberatamente a Dio. La chiave per obbedire a Dio consiste nel comprendere la nuova luce ed essere in grado di accettarla e metterla in pratica. Solo questa è vera obbedienza. Coloro a cui manca la volontà di anelare a Dio sono incapaci di disporsi all’obbedienza verso Dio e, come conseguenza della loro soddisfazione per lo status quo, possono solo opporsi a Lui. Se l’uomo non riesce a obbedire a Dio è perché è posseduto da ciò che è accaduto in passato. I fatti del passato hanno fatto insorgere negli esseri umani tutta una serie di concezioni e illusioni su Dio che rappresentano ormai la loro immagine mentale di Dio. Pertanto, ciò in cui essi credono sono i loro concetti personali e le norme elaborate dalla loro immaginazione. Se metti a confronto il Dio che svolge concretamente l’opera oggi rispetto al Dio della tua immaginazione, la tua fede deriva da Satana e corrisponde alle tue preferenze, e Dio non vuole una fede di questo tipo. Per quanto nobili siano le credenziali e la dedizione di persone di tal genere – avessero pure dedicato tutta la vita a spendersi per la Sua opera, fino al martirio – Dio non approva nessuno con una fede così. Mostra loro semplicemente un po’ della grazia, consentendone loro il godimento per un certo periodo di tempo. Le persone di questo tipo non sono capaci di mettere in pratica la verità, lo Spirito Santo non opera in esse, e Dio le eliminerà a una a una. Non importa se giovani o anziani, coloro che non obbediscono a Dio nella fede e sono mossi da motivazioni sbagliate, sono persone che si oppongono e interrompono l’opera di Dio, e queste persone Dio le eliminerà indiscutibilmente. Coloro che non obbediscono minimamente a Dio, che si limitano semplicemente a riconoscerNe il nome e pur avvertendo un po’ della Sua dolcezza e amabilità non stanno al passo dello Spirito Santo e non obbediscono all’opera e alle parole attuali dello Spirito Santo, tali persone vivono nelle grazie di Dio e non saranno guadagnate e rese perfette da Dio. Dio rende perfette le persone attraverso la loro obbedienza, il loro mangiare, bere e godere delle Sue parole, e attraverso la sofferenza e l’affinamento delle loro vite. Solo con una fede di questo tipo può cambiare l’indole delle persone, solo allora esse potranno possedere la vera conoscenza di Dio. Non accontentarsi di vivere nelle grazie di Dio ma anelare attivamente alla verità e cercare la verità, nel tentativo di essere guadagnati da Dio: questo significa obbedire a Dio con consapevolezza, è esattamente questo il tipo di fede che Dio vuole. Le persone che non fanno null’altro se non godere delle grazie di Dio non possono essere rese perfette o cambiate, e tutta la loro obbedienza, pietà, amore e pazienza sono superficiali. Coloro che si limitano a godere delle grazie di Dio non possono conoscere Dio veramente, e anche se Lo conoscono, la loro conoscenza è superficiale, e dicono cose come “Dio ama l’uomo”, o “Dio ha compassione per l’uomo”. Ciò non rappresenta la vita dell’uomo, né la dimostrazione di conoscere davvero Dio. Se, quando vengono raffinate dalle parole di Dio, o quando Dio pone loro delle prove, queste persone non sono in grado di obbedirGli – se, invece, vengono prese dal dubbio e cadono – ciò dimostra che non sono affatto obbedienti. Fra loro, vi sono molte regole e limitazioni sulla fede in Dio, esperienze precedenti che risultano da molti anni di fede, o varie dottrine che si fondano sulla Bibbia. Persone così potrebbero obbedire a Dio? Queste persone sono cariche di aspetti umani, come potrebbero obbedire a Dio? Obbediscono tutte in base alle loro preferenze personali: Dio potrebbe mai desiderare un’obbedienza del genere? Questo non significa obbedire a Dio, ma rispettare la dottrina, è solo auto-soddisfazione e auto-consolazione. Se per te questa è obbedienza a Dio, non sei blasfemo verso di Lui? Sei un faraone egiziano, commetti il male, e ti impegni espressamente nell’opposizione a Dio. Come potrebbe Dio volere un servizio simile? Faresti meglio a sbrigarti, pentirti e acquisire un po’ di autoconsapevolezza, altrimenti, è meglio se te ne torni a casa: ti farebbe meglio che servire Dio, non saresti né di ostacolo né di disturbo, sapresti qual è il tuo posto e vivresti bene. Non sarebbe meglio? In questo modo eviteresti di metterti contro Dio ed essere punito!
All Saints, Gazeley, Suffolk.
There was never any doubt I would go to Rob's funeral. Rob was born just two weeks before me, and in our many meetings, we found we had so much in common.
A drive to Ipswich should be something like only two and a half hours, but with the Dartford Crossing that could balloon to four or more.
My choice was to leave early, soon after Jools left for work, or wait to near nine once rush hour was over. If I was up early, I'd leave early, I said.
Which is what happened.
So, after coffee and Jools leaving, I loaded my camera stuff in the car, not bothering to program in a destination, as I knew the route to Suffolk so well.
Checking the internet I found the M2 was closed, so that meant taking the M20, which I like as it runs beside HS2, although over the years, vegetation growth now hides most of it, and with Eurostar cutting services due to Brexit, you're lucky to see a train on the line now.
I had a phone loaded with podcasts, so time flew by, even if travelling through the endless roadworks at 50mph seemed to take forever.
Dartford was jammed. But we inched forward, until as the bridge came in sight, traffic moved smoothly, and I followed the traffic down into the east bore of the tunnel.
Another glorious morning for travel, the sun shone from a clear blue sky, even if traffic was heavy, but I had time, so not pressing on like I usually do, making the drive a pleasant one.
Up through Essex, where most other traffic turned off at Stanstead, then up to the A11 junction, with it being not yet nine, I had several hours to fill before the ceremony.
I stopped at Cambridge services for breakfast, then programmed the first church in: Gazeley, which is just in Suffolk on the border with Cambridgeshire.
I took the next junction off, took two further turnings brought be to the village, which is divided by one of the widest village streets I have ever seen.
It was five past nine: would the church be open?
I parked on the opposite side of the road, grabbed my bag and camera, limped over, passing a warden putting new notices in the parish notice board. We exchange good mornings, and I walk to the porch.
The inner door was unlocked, and the heavy door swung after turning the metal ring handle.
I had made a list of four churches from Simon's list of the top 60 Suffolk churches, picking those on or near my route to Ipswich and which piqued my interest.
Here, it was the reset mediaeval glass.
Needless to say, I had the church to myself, the centuries hanging heavy inside as sunlight flooded in filling the Chancel with warm golden light.
Windows had several devotional dials carved in the surrounding stone, and a huge and "stunningly beautiful piscina, and beside it are sedilia that end in an arm rest carved in the shape of a beast" which caught my eye.
A display in the Chancel was of the decoration of the wooden roof above where panels contained carved beasts, some actual and some mythical.
I photographed them all.
----------------------------------------------------
All Saints is a large, remarkably good church in one of the sleepy, fat villages along the Cambridgeshire border, the sort of place you cycle through and imagine wistfully that you've won the lottery and could move there. The wide churchyard on both sides is a perfect setting for the church, which rises to heaven out of a perpendicular splendour of aisles, clerestories and battlements. The tower was complete by the 1470s when money was being left for a bell. The earlier chancel steadies the ship, anchoring it to earth quietly, although the tall east window has its spectacular moment too. And you step into a deliciously well-kept interior, full of interest.
One of the most significant medieval survivals here is not easily noticed. This is the range of 15th Century glass, which was reset by the Victorians high in the clerestory. This seems a curious thing to have done, since it defeats the purpose of a clerestory, but if they had not done so then we might have lost it. The glass matches the tracery in the north aisle windows, so that is probably where they came from. There are angels, three Saints and some shields, most of which are heraldic but two show the instruments of the passion and the Holy Trinity. I would not be surprised to learn that some of the shields are 19th century, but the figures are all original late 15th or early 16th century. The Saints are an unidentified Bishop, the hacksaw-wielding St Faith and one of my favourites, St Apollonia. She it was who was invoked by medieval people against toothache.
Waling from the nave up into the chancel, the space created by the clearing of clutter makes it at once mysterious and beautiful. Above, the early 16th century waggon roof is Suffolk's best of its kind. Mortlock points out the little angels bearing scrolls, the wheat ears and the vine sprays, and the surviving traces of colour. The low side window on the south side still has its hinges, for here it was that updraught to the rood would have sent the candles flickering in the mystical church of the 14th century. On the south side of the sanctuary is an exquisitely carved arched recess, that doesn't appear to have ever had a door, and may have been a very rare purpose-built Easter sepulchre at the time of the 1330s rebuilding. Opposite is a huge and stunningly beautiful piscina, and beside it are sedilia that end in an arm rest carved in the shape of a beast. It is one of the most significant Decorated moments in Suffolk.
On the floor of the chancel there is a tiny, perfect chalice brass, one of only two surviving in Suffolk. The other is at Rendham. Not far away is the indent of another chalice brass - or perhaps it was for the same one, and the brass has been moved for some reason. There are two chalice indents at Westhall, but nowhere else in Suffolk. Chalice brasses were popular memorials for Priests in the 15th and early 16th centuries, and thus were fair game for reformers. Heigham memorials of the late 16th century are on the walls. Back in the south aisle there is a splendid tombchest in Purbeck marble. It has lost its brasses, but the indents show us where they were, as do other indents in the aisle floors. Some heraldic brass shields survive, and show that Heighams were buried here. Brass inscriptions survive in the nave and the chancel, dating from the late 16th and early 17th centuries.
The 14th century font is a good example of the tracery pattern series that appeared in the decades before the Black Death. They may have been intended to spread ideas at that time of great artistic and intellectual flowering before it was so cruelly snatched away. The cover is 17th Century. At this end of the nave are two good ranges of medieval benches, one, rare in East Anglia, is a group of 14th Century benches with pierced tracery backs. Some of them appear to spell out words, and Mortlock thought one might say Salaman Sayet. The block of benches to the north appears to be 15th Century or possibly early 16th Century. Further north, the early 17th Century benches are simpler, even cruder, and were likely the work of the village carpenter.
All rather lovely then. And yet, it hasn't always been that way. All Saints at Gazeley, near Newmarket, was the first church that I visited after an international team of scientists conclusively proved that God did not exist began the first page for this church that I wrote in 2003, in a satirical mood after finding the church locked and at a very low ebb. At a time when congregations were generally falling, I'd been thinking about the future of medieval churches beyond a time when they would have people to use them in the traditional way. I wondered if the buildings might find new uses, or could adapt themselves to changing patterns and emphases in Christianity, or even changing spiritual needs of their parishes. Even if science could somehow prove that God did not exist, I suggested, there were parishes which would rise to the challenge and reinvent themselves, as churches have always done over the two millennia of Christianity. Coming to Gazeley I felt that here was a church which felt as if it had been abandoned. And yet, it seemed to me a church of such significance, such historical and spiritual importance, that its loss would be a disaster. If it had been clean, tidy and open at the time he was visiting, Simon Jenkins England's Thousand Best Churches would not have been able to resist it. Should the survival of such a treasure store depend upon the existence of God or the continued practice of the Christian faith? Or might there be other reasons to keep this extraordinary building in something like its present integrity?
In the first decade of the 21st Century, Gazeley church went on a tremendous journey, from being moribund to being the wonderful church you can visit today. If you want to read the slightly adapted 2006 entry for Gazeley, recounting this journey, you can do so here. Coming back here today always fills me with optimism for what can be achieved. On one occasion I mentioned my experiences of Gazeley church to a Catholic Priest friend of mine, and he said he hoped I knew I'd seen the power of the Holy Spirit at work. And perhaps that is so. Certainly, the energy and imagination of the people here have been fired by something. On that occasion I had wanted to find someone to ask about it, to find out how things stood now. But there was no one, and so the building spoke for them.
Back outside in the graveyard, the dog daisies clustered and waved their sun-kissed faces in the light breeze. The ancient building must have known many late-May days like this over the centuries, but think of all the changes that it has known inside! The general buffeting of the winds of history still leaves room for local squalls and lightning strikes. All Saints has known these, but for now a blessed calm reigns here. Long may it remain so.
Simon Knott, June 2019
St Andrew, Great Saxham, Suffolk
This is a church I seem to revisit every five years or so, and I'm always left wondering why I don't come back more often. After the longest winter I can remember, and a good five months since my previous church exploring bike ride, I set off from Bury St Edmunds on a bright, cold Saturday morning, and Great Saxham was my first port of call.
Nothing much had changed. A large oak tree had fallen near to the fence of the park in a recent storm, but otherwise it was exactly as I remembered. It is always reassuring to cycle off into rural Suffolk to find that England has not entirely succumbed to the 21st Century.
But Suffolk has changed in the thirty-odd years I've been living here. There is hardly a dairy farm left, and not a single cattle market survives in the county. Ipswich, Lowestoft, Bury, and even the smaller places, are ringed by out-of-town shopping experiences, and the drifts of jerry-built houses wash against the edges of nearly every village. But the countryside has always been in a state of perpetually change, a constant metamorphosis, and often a painful one. I had been struck by this before while cycling across this parish, and the memory added a frisson to the experience of coming back.
For many modern historians, the 19th Century finished on August 4th 1914, and you can see their point. That was the day that the First World War began, and the England that would emerge from the mud, blood and chaos would be quite different. A new spirit was abroad, and rural areas left behind their previous patterns of ownership and employment that were little more than feudalism. Suffolk would never be the same again.
No more the Big House, no more the farm worker going cap in hand to the hiring fair, or the terrible grind to keep at bay the horrors of the workhouse. I think of Leonard, remembering the pre-war days in Ronald Blythe’s Akenfield, that passionate account of a 20th century Suffolk village, Charsfield: I want to say this simply as a fact, that Suffolk people in my day were worked to death. It literally happened. It is not a figure of speech. I was worked mercilessly. I am not complaining about it. It is what happened to me. But the men coming home from Flanders would demand a living wage. The new world would not bring comfort and democracy overnight, of course, and there are many parts of Suffolk where poverty and patronage survive even today, to a greater or lesser extent, but the old world order had come to an end. The Age of Empires was over, and the Age of Anxiety was beginning.
The English have a love-hate relationship with the countryside. As Carol Twinch argues in Tithe Wars, it is only actually possible for British agriculture to be fully profitable in war time. In time of peace, only government intervention can sustain it in its familiar forms. Here, at the beginning of the 21st century, British farmers are still demanding levels of subsidy similar to that asked for by the mining industry in the 1980s. With the UK's exit from the European Union looming, the answer from the state is ultimately likely to be the same. British and European agriculture are still supported by policies and subsidies that were designed to prevent the widespread shortages that followed the Second World War. They are half a century out of date, and are unsustainable, and must eventually come to an end.
But still sometimes in Suffolk, you find yourself among surroundings that still speak of that pre-WWI feudal time. Indeed, there are places where it doesn’t take much of a leap of the imagination to believe that the 20th century hasn’t happened. Great Saxham is one such place.
You travel out of Bury westwards, past wealthy Westley and fat, comfortable Little Saxham with its gorgeous round-towered church. The roads narrow, and after another mile or so you turn up through a straight lane of rural council houses and bungalows. At the top of the lane, there is a gateway. It is probably late 19th century, but seems as archaic as if it was a survival of the Roman occupation. The gate has gone, but the solid stone posts that tower over the road narrow it, so that only one car can pass in each direction. It is the former main entrance to Saxham Hall, and beyond the gate you enter the park, cap in hand perhaps.
Looking back, you can see now that the lane behind you is the former private drive to the Big House, obviously bought and built on by the local authority in the 1960s. It is easy to imagine it as it had once been.
Beyond the gate is another world. The narrowed road skirts the park in a wide arc, with woods off to the right. Sheep turn to look once, then resumed their grazing. About a mile beyond the gate, there is a cluster of 19th century estate buildings, and among them, slightly set back from the road beyond an unusually high wall, was St Andrew.
There was a lot of money here in the late 18th and early 19th centuries, so that you might even think it a Victorian building in local materials. But there is rather more to it than that. Farm buildings sit immediately against the graveyard, only yards from the church. When Mortlock came this way, he found chickens pottering about among the graves, and like me you may experience the unnervingly close neighing of a horse in the stables across from the porch.
The great restoration of this church was at a most unusual date, 1798, fully fifty years before the great wave of sacramentalism rolled out of Oxford and swept across the Church of England. Because of this, it appears rather plain, although quite in keeping with its Perpendicular origins - no attempt was made to introduce the popular mock-classical features of the day. The patron of the parish at the time was Thomas Mills, more familiar from his ancestors at Framlingham than here. There was another makeover in the 1820s.
I've always found this church open, and so it should be, for it has a great treasure which cannot be stolen, but might easily be vandalised if the church was kept locked (I wish that someone would explain this to the churchwardens at Nowton). The careful restoration preserved the Norman doorways and 15th century font, and the church would be indistinguishable from hundreds of other neat, clean 19th century refurbishments if it were not for the fact that it contains some most unusual glass. It was collected by Thomas Mills' son, William, and fills the east and west windows. It is mostly 17th century (you can see a date on one piece) and much of it is Swiss in origin. As at Nowton, it probably came from continental monasteries.
The best is probably the small scale collection in the west window. This includes figures of St Mary Magdalene, St John the Baptist and the Blessed Virgin, as well as scenes of the Annunciation, the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven, the Vision of St John, and much more. The work in the east window is on a larger scale, some of it Flemish in origin.
There are several simple and tasteful Mills memorials - but the Mills family was not the first famous dynasty to hold the Hall here. Back in the 16th and 17th centuries, it was the home of the Eldred family, famous explorers and circumnavigators of the globe. John Eldred died in 1632, and has one wall-mounted bust memorial on the south sanctuary wall, as well as a figure brass reset in the chancel floor from a lost table tomb. Both are gloriously flamboyant, and might seem quite out of kilter with that time, on the eve of the long Puritan night. Compare them, for instance, with the Boggas memorial at Flowton, barely ten years later. But, although the bust is of an elderly Elizabethan, I think that there is a 17th Century knowingness about them. The inscription beneath the bust reads in part The Holy Land so called I have seene and in the land of Babilone have bene, but in thy land where glorious saints doe live my soule doth crave of Christ a room to give - curiously, the carver missed out the S in Christ, and had to add it in above. It might have been done in a hurry, but perhaps it is rather a Puritan sentiment after all, don't you think?
The brass has little shields with merchant ships on, one scurrying between cliffs and featuring a sea monster. The inscription here is more reflective, asking for our tolerance: Might all my travells mee excuse for being deade, and lying here, for, as it concludes, but riches can noe ransome buy nor travells passe the destiny.
The First World War memorial remembers names of men who were estate workers here. And, after all, here is the English Church as it was on the eve of the First World War, triumphant, apparently eternal, at the very heart of the Age of Empires. Now, it is only to be found in backwaters like this, and the very fact that they are backwaters tells us that, really, it has not survived at all.
New King James Version (NKJV)
Do Not Boast About Tomorrow
Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a city, spend a year there, buy and sell, and make a profit”; whereas you do not know what will happen tomorrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away.
Romans 8:28
New King James Version (NKJV)
And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.
Sapphire pool - Yellowstone National Park
“I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in me & I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing. If a man does not abide in me, he is cast forth as a branch & withers & the branches are gathered, thrown into the fire and burned.” John 15:5-6
MEDITATION
“…How can we cooperate with the Lord’s pruning? Sometimes it’s helpful to reflect on whether we have become too set in our habits or ways of thinking. Maybe we tend to respond to challenges too defensively. Maybe we need to reexamine our priorities. Or perhaps we have other blind spots. If you see anything like this, simply ask the Spirit, “Is this an opportunity for me to be pruned?”
“If the answer is yes, we can turn to the Lord in repentance. Then we can give him permission to gently cut away the tangled vines in our lives that are blocking the flow of his life.
“There’s no doubt that the experience of pruning can be painful. Yet we can trust that our faithful and loving Lord knows exactly what he’s doing. He will stay close to us as he prunes us and helps us to bear fruit in every area of our lives.”
PRAYER
“Lord Jesus, I trust that you will cleanse and prune me so that I can bear fruit for you!”
Excerpt #meditation and #prayer from @wordamongus complete reflection @ www.wau.org
Archive - wau.org/meditations/2025/05/21/1281686/
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“The Kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out at dawn to hire laborers for his vineyard…” Matthew 20:1
MEDITATION
“God is generous and gives us work for His kingdom…
God is generous in opening the doors of His kingdom to all who will enter, both those who have labored a life-time for Him and those who come at the last hour. While the reward is the same, the motive for one's labor can make all the difference. Some work only for reward. They will only put in as much effort as they think they will get back. Others labor out of Love and Joy for the opportunity to work and to Serve others. The Lord Jesus calls each one of us to Serve God and His kingdom with Joy and Zeal and to Serve our neighbor with a generous spirit as well.
“Empowered to serve with a joyful and generous spirit…
The Lord Jesus wants to fill each one of us with the power and strength of the Holy Spirit so we can bear great fruit for God's kingdom (the fruit of Peace, Joy, Righteousness, and Love) and also bring the fruit of His kingdom to our neighbor as well. We labor for the Lord to bring Him Praise, Honor, and Glory. And we labor for our neighbor for their welfare with the same spirit of Loving-Kindness and Compassion which the Lord has shown to us.
“Paul the Apostle reminds us, ‘Whatever your task, work heartily, as serving the Lord and not others, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward - you are serving the Lord Christ’ (Colossians 3:23-24). Do you perform your daily tasks and responsibilities with cheerfulness and diligence for the Lord's sake? And do you give generously to others, especially to those in need of your care and support?”
PRAYER
"Lord Jesus, fill me with Your Holy Spirit that I may Serve You Joyfully and Serve my neighbor willingly with a generous heart, not looking for how much I can get, but rather looking for how much I can give."
#prayer and excerpt #meditation from www.DailyScripture.Net or APP at Daily Scripture Servants of the Word
www.dailyscripture.net/daily-meditation/
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All Saints, Gazeley, Suffolk.
There was never any doubt I would go to Rob's funeral. Rob was born just two weeks before me, and in our many meetings, we found we had so much in common.
A drive to Ipswich should be something like only two and a half hours, but with the Dartford Crossing that could balloon to four or more.
My choice was to leave early, soon after Jools left for work, or wait to near nine once rush hour was over. If I was up early, I'd leave early, I said.
Which is what happened.
So, after coffee and Jools leaving, I loaded my camera stuff in the car, not bothering to program in a destination, as I knew the route to Suffolk so well.
Checking the internet I found the M2 was closed, so that meant taking the M20, which I like as it runs beside HS2, although over the years, vegetation growth now hides most of it, and with Eurostar cutting services due to Brexit, you're lucky to see a train on the line now.
I had a phone loaded with podcasts, so time flew by, even if travelling through the endless roadworks at 50mph seemed to take forever.
Dartford was jammed. But we inched forward, until as the bridge came in sight, traffic moved smoothly, and I followed the traffic down into the east bore of the tunnel.
Another glorious morning for travel, the sun shone from a clear blue sky, even if traffic was heavy, but I had time, so not pressing on like I usually do, making the drive a pleasant one.
Up through Essex, where most other traffic turned off at Stanstead, then up to the A11 junction, with it being not yet nine, I had several hours to fill before the ceremony.
I stopped at Cambridge services for breakfast, then programmed the first church in: Gazeley, which is just in Suffolk on the border with Cambridgeshire.
I took the next junction off, took two further turnings brought be to the village, which is divided by one of the widest village streets I have ever seen.
It was five past nine: would the church be open?
I parked on the opposite side of the road, grabbed my bag and camera, limped over, passing a warden putting new notices in the parish notice board. We exchange good mornings, and I walk to the porch.
The inner door was unlocked, and the heavy door swung after turning the metal ring handle.
I had made a list of four churches from Simon's list of the top 60 Suffolk churches, picking those on or near my route to Ipswich and which piqued my interest.
Here, it was the reset mediaeval glass.
Needless to say, I had the church to myself, the centuries hanging heavy inside as sunlight flooded in filling the Chancel with warm golden light.
Windows had several devotional dials carved in the surrounding stone, and a huge and "stunningly beautiful piscina, and beside it are sedilia that end in an arm rest carved in the shape of a beast" which caught my eye.
A display in the Chancel was of the decoration of the wooden roof above where panels contained carved beasts, some actual and some mythical.
I photographed them all.
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All Saints is a large, remarkably good church in one of the sleepy, fat villages along the Cambridgeshire border, the sort of place you cycle through and imagine wistfully that you've won the lottery and could move there. The wide churchyard on both sides is a perfect setting for the church, which rises to heaven out of a perpendicular splendour of aisles, clerestories and battlements. The tower was complete by the 1470s when money was being left for a bell. The earlier chancel steadies the ship, anchoring it to earth quietly, although the tall east window has its spectacular moment too. And you step into a deliciously well-kept interior, full of interest.
One of the most significant medieval survivals here is not easily noticed. This is the range of 15th Century glass, which was reset by the Victorians high in the clerestory. This seems a curious thing to have done, since it defeats the purpose of a clerestory, but if they had not done so then we might have lost it. The glass matches the tracery in the north aisle windows, so that is probably where they came from. There are angels, three Saints and some shields, most of which are heraldic but two show the instruments of the passion and the Holy Trinity. I would not be surprised to learn that some of the shields are 19th century, but the figures are all original late 15th or early 16th century. The Saints are an unidentified Bishop, the hacksaw-wielding St Faith and one of my favourites, St Apollonia. She it was who was invoked by medieval people against toothache.
Waling from the nave up into the chancel, the space created by the clearing of clutter makes it at once mysterious and beautiful. Above, the early 16th century waggon roof is Suffolk's best of its kind. Mortlock points out the little angels bearing scrolls, the wheat ears and the vine sprays, and the surviving traces of colour. The low side window on the south side still has its hinges, for here it was that updraught to the rood would have sent the candles flickering in the mystical church of the 14th century. On the south side of the sanctuary is an exquisitely carved arched recess, that doesn't appear to have ever had a door, and may have been a very rare purpose-built Easter sepulchre at the time of the 1330s rebuilding. Opposite is a huge and stunningly beautiful piscina, and beside it are sedilia that end in an arm rest carved in the shape of a beast. It is one of the most significant Decorated moments in Suffolk.
On the floor of the chancel there is a tiny, perfect chalice brass, one of only two surviving in Suffolk. The other is at Rendham. Not far away is the indent of another chalice brass - or perhaps it was for the same one, and the brass has been moved for some reason. There are two chalice indents at Westhall, but nowhere else in Suffolk. Chalice brasses were popular memorials for Priests in the 15th and early 16th centuries, and thus were fair game for reformers. Heigham memorials of the late 16th century are on the walls. Back in the south aisle there is a splendid tombchest in Purbeck marble. It has lost its brasses, but the indents show us where they were, as do other indents in the aisle floors. Some heraldic brass shields survive, and show that Heighams were buried here. Brass inscriptions survive in the nave and the chancel, dating from the late 16th and early 17th centuries.
The 14th century font is a good example of the tracery pattern series that appeared in the decades before the Black Death. They may have been intended to spread ideas at that time of great artistic and intellectual flowering before it was so cruelly snatched away. The cover is 17th Century. At this end of the nave are two good ranges of medieval benches, one, rare in East Anglia, is a group of 14th Century benches with pierced tracery backs. Some of them appear to spell out words, and Mortlock thought one might say Salaman Sayet. The block of benches to the north appears to be 15th Century or possibly early 16th Century. Further north, the early 17th Century benches are simpler, even cruder, and were likely the work of the village carpenter.
All rather lovely then. And yet, it hasn't always been that way. All Saints at Gazeley, near Newmarket, was the first church that I visited after an international team of scientists conclusively proved that God did not exist began the first page for this church that I wrote in 2003, in a satirical mood after finding the church locked and at a very low ebb. At a time when congregations were generally falling, I'd been thinking about the future of medieval churches beyond a time when they would have people to use them in the traditional way. I wondered if the buildings might find new uses, or could adapt themselves to changing patterns and emphases in Christianity, or even changing spiritual needs of their parishes. Even if science could somehow prove that God did not exist, I suggested, there were parishes which would rise to the challenge and reinvent themselves, as churches have always done over the two millennia of Christianity. Coming to Gazeley I felt that here was a church which felt as if it had been abandoned. And yet, it seemed to me a church of such significance, such historical and spiritual importance, that its loss would be a disaster. If it had been clean, tidy and open at the time he was visiting, Simon Jenkins England's Thousand Best Churches would not have been able to resist it. Should the survival of such a treasure store depend upon the existence of God or the continued practice of the Christian faith? Or might there be other reasons to keep this extraordinary building in something like its present integrity?
In the first decade of the 21st Century, Gazeley church went on a tremendous journey, from being moribund to being the wonderful church you can visit today. If you want to read the slightly adapted 2006 entry for Gazeley, recounting this journey, you can do so here. Coming back here today always fills me with optimism for what can be achieved. On one occasion I mentioned my experiences of Gazeley church to a Catholic Priest friend of mine, and he said he hoped I knew I'd seen the power of the Holy Spirit at work. And perhaps that is so. Certainly, the energy and imagination of the people here have been fired by something. On that occasion I had wanted to find someone to ask about it, to find out how things stood now. But there was no one, and so the building spoke for them.
Back outside in the graveyard, the dog daisies clustered and waved their sun-kissed faces in the light breeze. The ancient building must have known many late-May days like this over the centuries, but think of all the changes that it has known inside! The general buffeting of the winds of history still leaves room for local squalls and lightning strikes. All Saints has known these, but for now a blessed calm reigns here. Long may it remain so.
Simon Knott, June 2019
There is a point in our lives when we, the children, become the adults in the relationship with our parents.
It will come for most of us, no one tells you this will happen, and you are unprepared for it. But it comes
And each of us has a different relationship with our parents than everyone else, what's right for me, and my views, do not apply to you.
Yesterday, was the funeral of the person I have known longer than anyone else on this earth, now that my family is all gone. Margaret and Brian were married a few weeks before mine, and moved into the new build bungalow also a few weeks before my parents.
They also had one child, a son, and Douglas and I have been friends longer than I have been friends with anyone else, although he is a year younger than me.
I have my views on Margaret, but the reason I travelled back to Suffolk for her funeral, was to be there for Douggie, and give him the support he has given me through three weddings and two funerals.
Norfolk isn't far away, and the funeral and wake were taking place just a mile or two over the border from Suffolk, but the roads beyond Ipswich are poor, twisty and where there are accidents or roadworks, no real alternative routes.
I was also leaving just before six, so had to get across the Thames at Dartford and up the A12 during rush hour, so it wouldn't be easy. But at least there would be no rain.
I was up at five, dressed and washed, with time to drink a coffee before leaving. Loading the car with me and my camera bag, as I had plans in case I had time, to visit a church or two.
It was dark up the M20 to Dartford, and busy with traffic, but I made good time, and listened to a loop of old music podcasts all day, so chat and music kept me awake.
I got onto the M25 with no problem, and through the tunnels with only a slight slowdown, but on the other side there were queues.
Despite not wanting to spend money on a new railway, there is always money for road and junction improvements, even if it will just increase traffic. So it is that the M25/A12 junction is being upgraded, and with narrow lanes, speed restrictions, jams began a good four miles before the roadworks started.
I forced my way to the left hand lane, which became a filter lane, meaning it was much quicker than the remaining four lanes. But then came the roundabout. The roundabout under the motorway is the reason the improvements are needed, and queueing traffic blocks the junctions and causes even more backlogs.
Of course, traffic lights on roundabouts are never good ideas, so I was confronted with a wall of traffic, so when the light went green, I went in front of a track before it could shuffle forward and block more of the junction, then there was some clear road.
And ducking into the extreme left hand lane, I dodged past the queuing traffic that was blocking the exit from the A12, and onto clear road.
Yay.
The sky was clear, the sun about to rise, and it was going to be a glorious day.
Just north of Chelmsford, I stopped for breakfast: two sausage rolls and a coffee from Greggs, then filled up the tank and on my way north.
More traffic at Ipswich where the A12 meets the A14 to get over the Orwell, but then clear traffic again after ten minutes delay.
Soon, though, the road narrows to two lane blacktop, and all is well until you meet a slower vehicle. Like a tractor as we did soon after Whickham Market.
For 15 long minutes the tractor lead a growing snake of cars along the winding lanes until it pulled over and we could get past.
Blythburgh was always the marker when travelling back from Ipswich or beyond, that we were nearly home. he handsome church sits high, for Suffolk, overlooking the village and river which is mostly mudflats.
The busy A12 skirts close, but you get to the church via a narrow land, leaving the modern world far behind.
The church opened at nine, it was nearly half past, it was probably open before nine, and was open when I pushed the porch door.
Inside is an unspoilt space, grey wood that have witnessed the centuries so that their vigour has faded to almost no colour of all.
Its the roof people come for. Wooden beams and pairs of wooden angels. I have brought my big lens so to snap them.
My plan was to visit the large and impressive church in Southwold. I turned off the A12 and drove along the straight road into the town, where I found multiple sets of roadworks, and few places to park for a short time, anywhere near the church.
My back is achy, so I wanted somewhere close to park. Anyway, I drove round the town twice, found nowhere to park, so turned the car round and headed back north, until I came to South Cove.
South Cove is a small village, a few farms really, but has a fine, if rustic, well-proportioned church, set in a large churchyard.
And the church was open, so small the wide angle lens wasn't needed, and with windows close to the floor too, no big lens needed either.
Next town up is Kessingland, which until the 80s had the A12 running through the centre of it, but now a bypass lays to the west and the village is quiet. I don't think I had been of the main street, so I went in search of the church, and found it on Church Street.
Obviously.
I rarely research churches before I visit, so nothing prepared me for the interior of St Edmund.
It seems in the last two years, they church had sourced some banners with apt slogans on, banners which were made to look like large tapered ensigns, hanging from or along the supports of the roof.
A man was practicing on the organ, and the notes echoed round the church. Not only does the church have banners, it has ship's wheels and other nautical stuff, although most traditionalists won't like it, I think it hangs together, and if the congregation wants it thus, who are we to argue?
Next stop was South Cove, which I had forgotten I had visited before, so redid all my shots. But this time did see the panel featuring St Michael behind the font, where the rood steps began.
A small, perfect, church, perfect for a small country parish.
I take my shots and leave, driving back onto the A12 and heading into Lowestoft, my main task was to drive over the new bridge which spans Lake Lothing.
The town had been waiting since at least 1966 for a new bridge, and the 3rd crossing was opened in September, and offers fine views as you drive across.
I went to see the old family home. It has been renovated and looks splendid, and not much like it was when sold four years back, it looks cared for and lived in, which is what the buyer promised us he would do.
So then to the crematorium, a drive north through Gunton and past Hopton where Dougie lives, then through the housing estate behind the area hospital to the car park, and then wait.
Margaret was 89, had a long life, but friends of the same age are few, and families are now scattered. So, one can never be sure how many will attend. The chapel was half full at least, with people coming from Kent, Wiltshire and even California to be there.
The celebrant spoke for twenty minutes, saying nice things as they have to do. But, avoiding, or just hinting at faults. Whatever she had done in her life to Dougie, he still loved her, and he was in bits.
Afterward we lined up to shake his hand or give him and Pennie a hug, and allowed me to tell him he was the brother I never had. He was always there for me, and will be there for him.
More tears.
There was a wake at the pub in Hopton, but there was no one I knew other than Dougie and Penny, so I had a drink and made my excuses. These things are really for family and close friends, so I left at quarter to three, hoping to get home before midnight.
In the end, I made good time, I was going round Ipswich before four, and at the M25 junction less than an hour later, and was able to easily join it and zoom round to the bridge. No queues on the southbound side, but the queue northbound went all the way back to the M20 junction, so six mines.
I zoomed on.
I got home at ten past six, happy to have done it and go home in under three and a half hours. Dinner was defrosted ragu, pasta and reheated focaccia, which we were sitting down to eat twenty minutes after getting in.
Phew.
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Perhaps some counties have a church which sums them up. If there has to be one for Suffolk, it must be the church of the Most Holy Trinity, Blythburgh. Here is the late medieval Suffolk imagination writ large, as large as it gets, and not overwritten by the Anglican triumphalism of the 19th century. Blythburgh church is often compared with its near neighbour, St Edmund at Southwold, but this isn't a fair comparison - Southwold church is much grander, and full of urban confidence. Probably a better comparison is with St Margaret, Lowestoft, for there, too, the Reformation intervened before the tower could be rebuilt. The two churches have a lot in common, but Blythburgh has the saving grace. It is so fascinating, so stunningly beautiful, by virtue of a factor that is rare in Anglican parish churches: sheer neglect.
Holy Trinity, Blythburgh, is the church that Suffolk people know and love best, and because of this it has generated some extraordinary legends. The first is that Blythburgh, now a tiny village bisected by the fearsome A12 between London and the east coast ports, was once a thriving medieval town. This idea is used to explain the size of the church; in reality, it is almost certainly not the case. Blythburgh has always been small. But it did have an important medieval priory, and thus its church attracted enough wealthy piety on the eve of the Reformation to bankroll a spectacular rebuilding.
It is to Lavenham, Long Melford, Mildenhall, Southwold and here that we come to see the late 15th century Suffolk aesthetic in perfection. But for my money, Holy Trinity, Blythburgh, is the most significant medieval art object in the county, ranking alongside Salle in Norfolk. Look up at the clerestory; it seems impossible, there is so much glass, so little stone; and yet it rides the building with an air of permanence. Beneath, there is a coyness about the aisles that I prefer to the mathematics of Lavenham. Here, it could not have been done otherwise; it distils human architectural experience. If St Peter and St Paul at Lavenham is man talking to God, Holy Trinity at Blythburgh is God talking to man.
At the east end, a curious series of initials in Lombardic script stretch across the outer chancel wall. You can see an image of this at the top. It reads A-N-JS-B-S-T-M-S-A-H-K-R. This probably stands for Ad Nomina JesuS, Beati Sanctae Trinitas, Maria Sanctorem Anne Honorem Katherine Reconstructus ('In the name of the blessed Jesus, the Holy Trinity, and in honour of Holy Mary, Anne and Katherine, this was rebuilt'). A fanciful theory is that they are the initials of the wives of the donors. However, note the symbol of the Trinity in the T stone, and I think this is a clue to the whole piece.
Figures stand on pedestals atop the south side and east end. The most easterly is unusual, a crowned old man sitting on a throne directly on the gable end. This is a medieval image of God the Father, a rare survival. Moving westwards from here we find the Blessed Virgin in prayerful pose, Christ as the Saviour of the World holding an orb in one hand and blessing with the other, and then a collared bear with a ragged staff, a seated woodwose, another bear, this time with a collar and bell, and last of all a fox with a goose in its mouth, his jaws grasping the neck:
The porch is part of the late 15th century rebuilding, but it was considerably restored in the early 20th century. Interestingly, the angels crowning the battlements look medieval - but they weren't there in 1900, so must have come from somewhere else. Pretty much all the porch's features of interest date from this time. These include the small medieval font pressed into service as a holy water stoup, and image niche above the doors. This has been filled in more recent years by an image if the Holy Trinity; God the Father holds the Son suspended while a dove representing the Holy Spirit alights; you can see medieval versions of this at Framlingham and Little Glemham. Of all medieval imagery, this was the most frowned upon by puritans. An image of God the Father was thought the most suspicious of all idolatries. Indeed, as late as the 1870s, when the Reverend White edited the first popular edition of the Diary of William Dowsing, he actually congratulated Dowsing on destroying images of the Holy Trinity in the course of his 1644 progress through the counties of Suffolk and Cambridgeshire.
William Dowsing visited on the morning on April 9th, 1644. It was a Tuesday, and he had spent most of the week in the area. The previous day he'd been at Southwold and Walberswick to the east, but preceded his visit here with one to Blyford, which lies to the west, so he was probably staying overnight at the family home in Laxfield. He found twenty images in stained glass to take to task (a surprisingly small number, given the size of the place) and two hundred more that were inaccessible that morning (probably in the great east window). Three brass inscriptions incurred his wrath (but again, this is curious; there were many more) and he also ordered down the cross on the porch and the cross on the tower. Most significantly of all, he decided the angels in the roof should go.
Lots of Suffolk churches have angels in their roofs. None are like Blythburgh's. You step inside, and there they are, exactly as you've seen them in books and in photographs. They are awesome, breathtaking. There are twelve of them. Perhaps there were once twenty. How would you get them down if ordered to do so? The roof is so high, and the stencilling of IHS symbols would also have to go.
Perhaps this was already indistinct by the time Dowsing visited. Perhaps Tuesday, 9th of April 1644 was a dull day.
Several of the angels are peppered with lead shot. Here is another of those Suffolk legends; that Dowsing and the churchwardens fired muskets at the angels to try and bring them down. But when the angels were restored in the 1970s, the lead shot removed was found to be 18th century; contemporary with them there is a note in the churchwardens accounts that men were paid for shooting jackdaws living inside the building, so that probably explains where the shot came from. Here are some details of that wonderful roof:
The otherwise splendid church guide also repeats the error that the Holy Trinity symbol in the porch filled a gap that had been 'empty since 1644'. But there was certainly no image in it when Dowsing arrived here, or anywhere else in Suffolk; statues were completely outlawed by injunctions in the early years of the reign of Edward VI, almost a hundred years before the morning of Dowsing's visit.
Another feature used as evidence of puritan destruction is the ring fixed into the most westerly pillar of the north arcade. Cromwell's men stabled their horses here, apparently. Well, it almost certainly is a ring for tying horses to, and the broken bricks at the cleared west end also suggest this; but there is no reason to think that Cromwell and the puritans were responsible. For a full century before Cromwell, and for nearly two hundred years afterwards, a church as big as this would have had a multitude of uses. Holy Trinity was built for the rituals of the Catholic church; once these were no longer allowed, a village like Blythburgh, which can never have had more than 500 people, would have seen it as an asset in other ways. It was only with the 19th century sacramental revival brought about by the Oxford Movement that we started getting all holy again about our parish churches. Perhaps it was used as an overnight stables for passing travellers on the main road; not an un-Christian use for it to be put to, I think.
In August 1577, a great storm brought down the steeple, which fell into the church and damaged the font. This was at the height of Elizabethan superstition, and the devil was blamed; his hoof marks can still be seen on the church door. Supposedly, a black dog ran through the church, killing two parishioners; he was seen the same day at St Mary, Bungay. Black Shuck is the East Anglian devil dog, the feared hound of the marshes; and Holy Trinity is the self-styled Cathedral of the Marshes, so it is appropriate that he appeared here. You can see where the font has been broken. You can also see that this was one of the rare, beautiful seven sacrament fonts, similar in style to the one at Westhall; but, like those at neighbouring Wenhaston and Southwold, it has been completely stripped of imagery. Almost certainly, this was in the 1540s, but there is a story that the font at Wenhaston was chiselled clean as part of the 19th century restoration. More importantly in any case, the storm, or the dog, or the devil, damaged the roof; it would not be properly repaired for more than 400 years. Throughout the 17th and 18th centuries, accounts note that Holy Trinity is not impregnable to the weather. By the 19th century, parishioners attended divine service with umbrellas. By the 1880s, it was a positively dangerous building to be in, and the Bishop of Norwich ordered it closed.
Why had Holy Trinity not been restored? Simply, this is a big church, with a tiny village. There was no rich patron, and in any case the parishioners had a passion for Methodism. Probably, repairs had been mooted, but not a wholesale restoration as we have seen at Lavenham, Long Melford and Southwold. By the 1880s, attention in England had turned to the preservation of medieval detail; in short, restorations were not as ignorant as they had been a quarter of a century earlier. Suggestions that Holy Trinity should be restored in the manner of the other three were blocked by the Society for the Preservation of Ancient Buildings, and this owed a lot to the energy of William Morris, the Society's secretary.
The slow, patient restoration of this building took the best part of a century; indeed, when I first visited in the 1980s I was still aware of a sense of decay.
Nothing could be further from the truth today. You step into a wide, white, open space, one of England's great church interiors. There, high above you, is the glorious roof and the angels of God. The brick floors spread around the scraped font, which still bears its dedicatory inscription and standing places for participants. You turn into the central gangway, and more than twenty empty indents for brasses stretch before you. Dowsing can be blamed for the destruction of hardly any of them. In reality, you see the work of 18th and 19th century thieves and collectors.
The bench-ends are superb. The benches themselves were reconstructed in the late 19th century, supposedly from the main post of Westleton windmill, but the ends are some of the county's finest medieval images. There are partial sets of basically three series: the Seven Deadly Sins, the Seven Works of Mercy, and the Labours of the Seasons. There are also angels bearing symbols of the Holy Trinity and the Crown. There are other figures too, obscure and fragmentary and whose purpose is unclear, as if surviving figments of a broken dream. The quality of what remains makes you grieve for what has been lost.
The rood screen is a disappointment; most of it is modern, and the medieval bits perfunctory and scoured. Having said this, note how tiny the exit from the north aisle rood loft stair is. Also at this end of the church, a scattering of medieval glass, mainly angels. There is more in the south aisle, including a collection of shields of the Holy Trinity:
But step through the central aisle to see something remarkable. The priest and choir stalls are fronted by exquisite carvings of the Apostles, the Evangelists, John the Baptist, St Stephen, Mary Queen of Heaven and Christ in Majesty. Seeing these eighteen carvings is a bit like gobbling up a very large box of chocolates, but it is worth stopping to consider quite how genuine they all are. For a start, there could not have been choir stalls here in medieval times, and in any case we know that these desks and their frontages were in the north aisle chapel until the 19th century. They were used as school benches in the 17th century; they still bear holes for inkpots, and the graffiti of a bored Dutch child (his father was probably working on draining the marshes) is dated 1665. There is nothing at all like them anywhere else in Suffolk.
Whatever, the east end of the chancel and aisles are thrillingly modern, wholly devotional. In the north aisle, traditionally the Hopton chantry, extraordinary friezes of skeletons become symbols of the four evangelists behind the altar. Beside them is Peter Ball's beautiful Madonna and Child. Separating the south aisle chapel from the sanctuary is is one of Suffolk's biggest Easter sepulchres, tomb of the Hoptons. Behind the high altar, branches arranged like huge stag antlers spread dramatically. It is all just about perfect. Tucked to one side of the organ is a clockjack; Suffolk has two, and the other is down-river at Southwold. They date from the late 17th century, and presumably once struck the hours; at high church Blythburgh and Southwold today, they are used to announce the entry of the ministers.
This is a wonderful church to wander around in, the light and the air changing with the seasons, a suffused sense of the numinous presenting its different faces according to the time of day and time of year. Come here on a bright spring morning, or in the drowsy heat of a summer's day. Come on a cold winter afternoon as the colours fade and the smell of woodsmoke from neighbouring cottages weaves a spell above the old stone floors and woodwork. And before you leave, find the doorway in the south-west corner of the nave. It opens onto a low, narrow stairway. You can go up it. It leads up into the parvise storey of the south porch, now reappointed and dedicated as a tiny chapel, a peaceful spot to spend a few moments before continuing your journey.
You may be reading this entry in a far-off land; or perhaps you are here at home. Whatever, if you have not visited this church, then I urge you to do so. It is the most beautiful church in Suffolk, a wonderful art object, and it is always open in daylight. It remains one of the most significant medieval buildings in England. If you only visit one of Suffolk's churches, then make it this one
Simon Knott, 2014.
Zhong Xin is a preacher at a house church in Mainland China. He has believed in the Lord for many years, and has been suffering capture and persecution of the CCP. He hates the CCP deeply and has already seen clearly that the CCP is a satanic regime treating God as its enemy. In recent years, he has seen that the Chinese Communist government and the religious world have persisted in wildly condemning, capturing, and persecuting the Church of the Eastern Lightning. But the Eastern Lightning not only survives, but also continues to thrive and grow. He thinks it is unbelievable and starts to reflect: Is the Eastern Lightning the appearance and work of the Lord? Zhong Xin also finds that what the CCP and the religious world speak to condemn the Eastern Lightning are all rumors and lies. In order to find out the truth, he leads brothers and sisters to investigate the Eastern Lightning. After the fellowship of the preachers fromthe Church of Almighty God, most of them firmly believe that the words expressed by Almighty God are the truth and the voice of God. Almighty God is the return of the Lord Jesus. However, the Church of Almighty God is suppressed and condemned by the Chinese Communist government and is wildly opposed and condemned by the religious pastors and elders. Faced with this situation, some are confused: Since the work of Almighty God is the true way, why does it suffer the furious resistance and condemnation of those in power and the religious world? Through reading Almighty God's words and listening to the fellowship of the preachers from the Church of Almighty God, these brothers and sisters understand the source of mankind's resistance of God, and see clearly that why the road to the heavenly kingdom is so perilous. They have discernment in the truth-hating and God-opposing essence of the satanic CCP regime and the religious leaders. In the end, Zhong Xin and others free themselves from the control and bondage of Satan's influence without hesitation. They accept Almighty God's work in the last days and truly return before God's throne.
Fonte dell'immagine: Il Lampo da Levante
Condizioni d'Uso: Avviso legale e condizioni per l’uso
Soltanto coloro che si concentrano sulla pratica possono essere perfezionati
Negli ultimi giorni, Dio Si incarnò per fare l’opera che doveva fare ed eseguire il Suo ministero delle parole. Egli venne di persona per operare tra gli esseri umani con l’obiettivo di perfezionare quelle persone che seguono il Suo cuore. Dalla creazione sino a oggi, compie solamente quell’opera durante gli ultimi giorni. Soltanto durante gli ultimi giorni Dio Si incarnò per compiere tale opera su larga scala. Benché sopporti difficoltà che chiunque troverebbe difficile da sopportare, sebbene, essendo un Dio grande ha l’umiltà di diventare un uomo comune, nessun aspetto della Sua opera è stato rimandato e il Suo piano non è diventato per niente confuso. Egli sta compiendo l’opera secondo il Suo piano originale. Uno degli scopi della Sua incarnazione è di conquistare le persone. Un altro è di perfezionare le persone che ama. Egli desidera vedere con i Suoi occhi le persone che perfeziona e vuole vedere da Sé come le persone che perfeziona Gli rendono testimonianza. Non si tratta del perfezionamento di una o due persone, ma di un gruppo di pochissime persone. Questo gruppo proviene da vari paesi e da varie nazionalità del mondo. Lo scopo del compimento di un’opera così grande è di guadagnare questo gruppo di persone, di guadagnare la testimonianza che questo gruppo Gli rende, e ottenere la gloria attraverso di esso. Egli non compie opera senza significato, o senza valore. Si può dire che, nel compiere un’opera così grande, lo scopo di Dio è di perfezionare tutti coloro che desidera. Nel tempo libero che ha al di fuori di questo, Egli eliminerà coloro che sono malvagi. Sappiate che Egli non fa questa grande opera a causa di coloro che sono malvagi; al contrario, dà il Suo tutto per quel piccolo numero di persone che devono essere perfezionate da Lui. L’opera che compie, le parole che pronuncia, i misteri che rivela e il Suo giudizio e castigo sono tutti per amore di quel piccolo numero di persone. Egli non Si è incarnato a causa di coloro che sono malvagi, tanto meno essi suscitano grande ira in Lui. Egli parla di verità e di ingresso a causa di coloro che devono essere perfezionati, Si è incarnato a causa loro ed è a causa loro che elargisce le Sue promesse e benedizioni. La verità, l’entrata e la vita nell’umanità di cui parla non sono per il bene dei malvagi. Egli vuole evitare di parlare a coloro che sono malvagi e desidera elargire tutte le verità a coloro che devono essere perfezionati. Ma quest’opera richiede che, per il momento, a coloro che sono malvagi sia concesso di godere alcune delle Sue ricchezze. Coloro che non realizzano la verità, che non soddisfano Dio e che interrompono la Sua opera sono tutti malvagi. Non possono essere perfezionati e sono odiati e rifiutati da Dio. Al contrario, le persone che mettono in pratica la verità e possono soddisfare Dio e si spendono completamente nell’opera di Dio sono quelle che devono essere perfezionate da Lui. Le uniche che Dio desidera completare non sono altro che questo gruppo di persone e l’opera che Egli compie è per il loro bene. La verità di cui parla è rivolta alle persone che sono disposte a metterla in pratica. Non parla alle persone che non mettono la verità in pratica. L’aumento dell’intuizione e la crescita del discernimento di cui parla sono rivolte alle persone che possono realizzare la verità. Quando parla di coloro che devono essere perfezionati, si riferisce a queste persone. L’opera dello Spirito Santo è rivolta alle persone che possono praticare la verità. Cose come possedere saggezza e avere umanità sono rivolte alle persone che sono disposte a mettere in pratica la verità. Coloro che non realizzano la verità possono udire e comprendere molte verità, ma poiché sono tra i malvagi, la verità che capiscono si trasforma solo in dottrine e parole e non ha significato per il cambiamento della loro indole o per le loro vite. Nessuno di loro è fedele a Dio; sono tutte persone che vedono Dio ma non possono ottenerLo e sono tutti condannati da Lui.
Lo Spirito Santo ha un sentiero da percorrere in ogni persona e dà a ognuno opportunità per essere perfezionato. Attraverso la tua negatività vieni reso consapevole della tua corruzione, e invece sbarazzandoti della negatività troverai un sentiero di pratica e questa è la tua via verso la perfezione. Inoltre, attraverso la guida continua e illuminazione di alcune cose positive dentro di te, potrai proattivamente svolgere la tua funzione, crescere nella comprensione e acquisire discernimento. Quando le tue condizioni sono buone, sei particolarmente disposto a leggere la parola di Dio e, soprattutto, disposto a pregare Dio e puoi collegare i sermoni che ascolti ai tuoi stati. In momenti simili, Dio ti rivela e ti illumina dentro, facendoti comprendere alcune cose dell’aspetto positivo. Questa è la tua perfezione nell’aspetto positivo. Negli stati negativi, sei debole e negativo e senti di non avere Dio, ma Egli ti illumina, aiutandoti a trovare un sentiero di pratica. Venire fuori da questo è conseguimento di perfezione nell’aspetto negativo. Dio può perfezionare l’uomo sia negli aspetti positivi che negativi. Dipende se sei in grado di sperimentare e se ricerchi di essere perfezionato da Dio. Se cerchi veramente di essere perfezionato da Lui, allora il negativo non può farti soffrire la perdita, ma può portarti cose che sono più reali e può renderti più capace di conoscere quello che manca dentro di te, più capace di fare i conti con i tuoi stati reali e vedere che l’uomo non ha niente, ed è niente; se non sperimenti prove, non conosci, e ti sentirai sempre al di sopra degli altri e migliore di ogni altro. Attraverso tutto ciò, vedrai che quello che avvenne prima fu fatto e protetto da Dio. Entrare nelle prove ti lascia senza amore o fede, ti manca la preghiera, e non riesci a cantare gli inni e, senza rendertene conto, nel mezzo di questo arrivi a conoscere te stesso. Dio ha molti mezzi per perfezionare l’uomo. Egli impiega ogni tipo di situazione per trattare con l’indole corrotta dell’uomo e usa varie cose per metterlo a nudo; da una parte affronta l’uomo, dall’altra lo mette a nudo e in un’altra lo rivela, scavando e rivelando i “misteri” nelle profondità del suo cuore, mostrandogli la sua natura attraverso la rivelazione di molti dei suoi stati. Dio perfeziona l’uomo attraverso molti metodi – attraverso la rivelazione, il trattamento, il raffinamento e il castigo – affinché l’uomo possa sapere che Dio è concreto.
Che cosa ricercate ora? Forse è l’essere perfezionati da Dio, conoscere Dio, ottenere Dio, o è lo stile di un Pietro anni novanta, o avere una fede più grande di quella di Giobbe. Dovete ricercare molto, se cercate di essere chiamati giusti da Dio e arrivare innanzi al Suo trono, o per essere in grado di manifestare Dio sulla terra e rendere a Dio una testimonianza forte e risonante. A prescindere da ciò che ricercate, in generale, è per il bene del piano di gestione di Dio. Non importa se cerchi di essere una persona giusta, o se ricerchi lo stile di Pietro, o la fede di Giobbe, o di essere perfezionato da Dio, qualunque cosa cerchi, in sintesi, è tutta l’opera di Dio. In altre parole, a prescindere da ciò che cerchi, è tutto per il bene di essere perfezionato da Dio, è tutto per il bene di sperimentare la Sua parola, per soddisfare il Suo Cuore; è tutto per scoprire la bellezza di Dio, per scoprire un sentiero di pratica in un’esperienza reale con lo scopo di essere in grado di sbarazzarti della tua indole ribelle, raggiungendo uno stato normale dentro di te, essendo capace di conformarti completamente alla volontà di Dio, per diventare una persona corretta e avere la giusta motivazione in ogni cosa che fai. La ragione per cui sperimenti tutte queste cose è arrivare a conoscere Dio e conseguire crescita di vita. Sebbene ciò che sperimenti sia la parola di Dio, e siano fatti reali, persone, questioni e cose del tuo ambiente, alla fine sei in grado di conoscere Dio e di essere perfezionato da Dio. La via consiste nel cercare di percorrere il sentiero di una persona giusta o cercare di mettere in pratica la parola di Dio. Conoscere Dio ed essere perfezionati da Lui sono la meta. Sia che tu cerchi ora la perfezione da Dio, o di renderGli testimonianza, nel complesso, alla fine lo fai per conoscere Dio; è affinché l’opera che Egli fa in te non sia inutile, affinché alla fine tu giunga a conoscere la realtà di Dio, la Sua grandezza, soprattutto conoscere l’umiltà e la segretezza di Dio, e conoscere la grande opera che Egli compie in te. Dio Si è umiliato a un certo livello per compiere la Sua opera in queste persone corrotte e sporche e per perfezionare questo gruppo di persone. Dio non soltanto Si è incarnato per vivere e mangiare tra le persone, per pascerle e fornir loro ciò di cui hanno bisogno. Più importante è che Egli compia la Sua enorme opera di salvezza e conquista su queste persone insopportabilmente corrotte. È venuto nel cuore del gran dragone rosso per operare su queste persone più corrotte, affinché tutte possano essere cambiate e rese nuove. L’immensa difficoltà che Egli sopporta non è soltanto la difficoltà che Dio incarnato sopporta, ma principalmente è che lo Spirito di Dio patisce un’estrema umiliazione – Si umilia e Si nasconde così tanto che diviene una persona comune. Dio Si incarnò e prese la forma di carne affinché le persone vedessero che ha una normale vita umana e i normali bisogni umani. Questo è abbastanza per provare che Dio Si è umiliato a un certo livello. Lo Spirito di Dio Si è realizzato nella carne. Il Suo Spirito è così alto e grande, eppure prende la forma di un umano comune, di un uomo insignificante, per compiere l’opera del Suo Spirito. La levatura, l’intuizione, il senno, l’umanità e le vite di ognuno di voi dimostrano che siete completamente indegni di accettare un’opera di Dio di questo tipo. Siete veramente indegni a lasciare che Dio sopporti una simile difficoltà per il vostro bene. Egli è così grande, così supremo e le persone sono così meschine e insignificanti, tuttavia ancora opera su di loro. Non solo Si è incarnato per provvedere alle persone, per parlare loro, ma vive anche insieme a loro. Dio è così umile, così amabile. Se non appena l’amore di Dio viene menzionato, non appena la grazia di Dio viene citata, se versi lacrime mentre pronunci una grande lode, se arrivi a questo stato, allora hai una vera conoscenza di Dio.
C’è una deviazione nell’attuale ricerca delle persone; esse cercano soltanto di amare Dio e soddisfarLo, ma non Ne possiedono alcuna conoscenza e hanno dimenticato l’illuminazione e la rivelazione dello Spirito Santo dentro di loro. Non hanno una vera conoscenza di Dio come fondamento. In questo modo, perdono energia, mentre la loro esperienza progredisce. Tutti coloro che cercano di avere una vera conoscenza di Dio, il genere di persona che in passato non era in buoni stati, che tendeva alla negatività e debolezza, che spesso versava lacrime e cadeva nello sconforto e fu delusa; tali persone sono ora in stati sempre migliori, poiché hanno una maggiore esperienza. Dopo l’esperienza di essere trattati e spezzati, o attraversare un episodio di raffinamento, hanno fatto grandi progressi. Non si prevede che tali stati accadano loro ancora, la loro indole è cambiata e l’amore di Dio viene vissuto in loro. Nel perfezionamento delle persone da parte di Dio esiste una regola, cioè che Dio ti illumina usando una parte piacevole di te, affinché tu abbia un sentiero per praticare e possa separarti da tutti gli stati negativi, aiutando il tuo spirito a conseguire la liberazione e renderti più capace di amarLo. In questo modo, sei in grado di liberarti dell’indole corrotta di Satana. Sei innocente e aperto, disposto a conoscere te stesso e a mettere in pratica la verità. Dio vede che sei disposto a conoscere te stesso e a mettere in pratica la verità, così, quando sei debole e negativo, ti illumina doppiamente, aiutandoti a conoscerti maggiormente, a essere più disposto a pentirti e maggiormente capace di praticare le cose che dovresti praticare. Solo in questo modo il tuo cuore è in pace e tranquillo. Una persona che di solito è attenta a conoscere Dio, a conoscere sé stessa, alla sua pratica potrà ricevere frequentemente l’opera di Dio, ricevere guida e rivelazione da parte Sua. Anche se in uno stato negativo, è in grado di voltarsi immediatamente, a causa dell’azione della coscienza o per l’illuminazione proveniente dalla parola di Dio. Il cambiamento dell’indole di una persona è sempre raggiunto quando essa conosce il suo stato attuale e l’indole e l’opera di Dio. Una persona disposta a conoscere sé stessa e ad aprirsi sarà in grado di realizzare la verità. Si tratta di una persona che è fedele a Dio che ha comprensione di Dio, sia essa profonda o superficiale, scarsa o abbondante. È la giustizia di Dio ed è qualcosa che le persone ottengono, è il loro guadagno. Una persona che possiede conoscenza di Dio ha una base, una visione. Questo tipo di individuo è certo dell’incarnazione di Dio, della Sua parola e della Sua opera. A prescindere da come Dio operi o parli, o da come altre persone provochino disturbo, egli può mantenere la sua posizione e rendere testimonianza a Dio. Più la persona è in questo modo e più può realizzare la verità che comprende. Poiché pratica sempre la parola di Dio, Ne ottiene una maggiore comprensione e ha la determinazione per esserNe sempre testimone.
Poiché hai discernimento, sottomissione e la capacità di vedere dentro le cose in modo da essere acuto nello spirito, hai le parole di Dio che ti istruiscono e illuminano non appena incontri qualcosa. Questo è essere acuto nello spirito. Ogni cosa che Dio fa è per aiutare a rivitalizzare lo spirito delle persone. Perché Egli dice sempre che le persone sono intorpidite e ottuse? Perché lo spirito delle persone è morto ed esse sono diventate così tanto insensibili da essere del tutto inconsapevoli delle cose dello spirito. L’opera di Dio è di far progredire la vita delle persone e di aiutare il loro spirito a diventare vivo, in modo che possano vedere nelle cose dello spirito ed essere sempre in grado di amare e soddisfare Dio. L’arrivo a questo punto dimostra che lo spirito di una persona è stato rianimato e la prossima volta che incontra qualcosa può reagire immediatamente. La persona risponde ai sermoni e reagisce velocemente alle situazioni. Questo è ciò che raggiunge l’acutezza dello spirito. Ci sono molte persone che hanno una reazione veloce a un evento esterno, ma non appena entrano nella realtà o vengono menzionate nel dettaglio le cose dello spirito, diventano insensibili e ottuse. Capiscono qualcosa solo se le si sta fissando in faccia. Sono tutti segni dell’essere spiritualmente insensibili e ottusi e di avere poca esperienza delle cose dello spirito. Alcune persone sono acute di spirito e hanno discernimento. Non appena sentono qualcosa che riguarda i loro stati, non perdono tempo a scriverlo. Lo applicano alla loro esperienza successiva e per cambiare sé stessi. Questa è una persona che è acuta nello spirito. Perché è così abile a reagire velocemente? Perché si concentra su questi aspetti nella vita quotidiana, e non appena uno di questi aspetti è menzionato, accade che corrisponda con la sua situazione interna e quindi è capace di riceverla immediatamente. È come dare da mangiare a una persona affamata; è grado di mangiare immediatamente. Se dai da mangiare a qualcuno che non ha fame, non reagisce così velocemente. Prega spesso Dio, poi puoi reagire immediatamente quando incontri qualcosa: che cosa esige Dio in questa situazione e come tu dovresti reagire. Dio ti ha guidato in questa situazione la volta precedente; quando incontri lo stesso tipo di cose oggi sai come entrare nella situazione per soddisfare il cuore di Dio. Se pratichi sempre in questo modo e sempre sperimenti in questo modo, a un certo punto ne diventerai maestro. Quando leggi la parola di Dio, sai a quale tipo di persona Egli Si sta riferendo, sai di quale genere di condizioni dello spirito sta parlando, e sei in grado di afferrare l’elemento chiave e metterlo in pratica; ciò dimostra che sei capace di sperimentare. Perché alcune persone sono carenti in questo senso? Perché non mettono molto impegno nell’aspetto della pratica. Sebbene siano disposte a mettere la verità in pratica, non hanno vera conoscenza nei dettagli del servizio, nei dettagli della verità nella loro vita. Restano confuse quando accade qualcosa. In questo modo, puoi essere fuorviato quando arriva un falso profeta o un falso apostolo. Non si può accettare di ignorare il discernimento. Devi sempre prestare attenzione alle cose dello spirito: come Dio opera, cosa dice, quali sono le Sue richieste alle persone, con quale genere di persone dovresti venire in contatto e quali dovresti evitare. Devi mettere enfasi su queste cose quando mangi e bevi la parola di Dio e durante l’esperienza. Se sperimenti le cose sempre in questo modo, comprenderai completamente molte cose e avrai anche discernimento. Che cos’ è la disciplina dello Spirito Santo, che cos’è la colpa che nasce dall’intento umano, che cos’è la guida dello Spirito Santo, che cos’è la disposizione di un ambiente, quali sono le parole di Dio che illuminano dentro, se non hai chiarezza su questi argomenti, non avrai discernimento. Dovresti sapere che cosa proviene dallo Spirito Santo, che cos’è un’indole ribelle, come obbedire alla parola di Dio e come disfarsi della propria ribellione; dovresti capire il dettaglio di tutte queste verità, affinché, quando accade qualcosa, tu abbia una verità appropriata con cui confrontarla, adeguate visioni come fondamento, principi in ogni materia e sia in grado di agire secondo la verità. La tua vita sarà piena della luce di Dio, piena delle Sua benedizioni. Dio non maltratterà nessuno che Lo ricerca con sincerità, che Lo vive e testimonia per Lui, e non maledirà nessuna persona sinceramente capace di avere sete di verità. Se, mentre stai mangiando e bevendo le parole di Dio, presti attenzione alla tua vera condizione, alla tua pratica e alla tua comprensione, allora, quando incontrerai un problema, riceverai la rivelazione e guadagnerai una comprensione pratica. Così, avrai un sentiero di pratica e un discernimento per ogni cosa. Una persona che ha la verità è improbabile che possa essere ingannata ed è difficile che si comporti in modo distruttivo o agisca eccessivamente. Perché la verità è protetta, e anche a causa della verità egli ottiene maggiore comprensione. A causa della verità ha più sentieri di pratica, ottiene maggiori opportunità che lo Spirito Santo operi in lui e di essere perfezionato.
it.easternlightning.org/who-focus-on-practice-can-be-perf...
There is a point in our lives when we, the children, become the adults in the relationship with our parents.
It will come for most of us, no one tells you this will happen, and you are unprepared for it. But it comes
And each of us has a different relationship with our parents than everyone else, what's right for me, and my views, do not apply to you.
Yesterday, was the funeral of the person I have known longer than anyone else on this earth, now that my family is all gone. Margaret and Brian were married a few weeks before mine, and moved into the new build bungalow also a few weeks before my parents.
They also had one child, a son, and Douglas and I have been friends longer than I have been friends with anyone else, although he is a year younger than me.
I have my views on Margaret, but the reason I travelled back to Suffolk for her funeral, was to be there for Douggie, and give him the support he has given me through three weddings and two funerals.
Norfolk isn't far away, and the funeral and wake were taking place just a mile or two over the border from Suffolk, but the roads beyond Ipswich are poor, twisty and where there are accidents or roadworks, no real alternative routes.
I was also leaving just before six, so had to get across the Thames at Dartford and up the A12 during rush hour, so it wouldn't be easy. But at least there would be no rain.
I was up at five, dressed and washed, with time to drink a coffee before leaving. Loading the car with me and my camera bag, as I had plans in case I had time, to visit a church or two.
It was dark up the M20 to Dartford, and busy with traffic, but I made good time, and listened to a loop of old music podcasts all day, so chat and music kept me awake.
I got onto the M25 with no problem, and through the tunnels with only a slight slowdown, but on the other side there were queues.
Despite not wanting to spend money on a new railway, there is always money for road and junction improvements, even if it will just increase traffic. So it is that the M25/A12 junction is being upgraded, and with narrow lanes, speed restrictions, jams began a good four miles before the roadworks started.
I forced my way to the left hand lane, which became a filter lane, meaning it was much quicker than the remaining four lanes. But then came the roundabout. The roundabout under the motorway is the reason the improvements are needed, and queueing traffic blocks the junctions and causes even more backlogs.
Of course, traffic lights on roundabouts are never good ideas, so I was confronted with a wall of traffic, so when the light went green, I went in front of a track before it could shuffle forward and block more of the junction, then there was some clear road.
And ducking into the extreme left hand lane, I dodged past the queuing traffic that was blocking the exit from the A12, and onto clear road.
Yay.
The sky was clear, the sun about to rise, and it was going to be a glorious day.
Just north of Chelmsford, I stopped for breakfast: two sausage rolls and a coffee from Greggs, then filled up the tank and on my way north.
More traffic at Ipswich where the A12 meets the A14 to get over the Orwell, but then clear traffic again after ten minutes delay.
Soon, though, the road narrows to two lane blacktop, and all is well until you meet a slower vehicle. Like a tractor as we did soon after Whickham Market.
For 15 long minutes the tractor lead a growing snake of cars along the winding lanes until it pulled over and we could get past.
Blythburgh was always the marker when travelling back from Ipswich or beyond, that we were nearly home. he handsome church sits high, for Suffolk, overlooking the village and river which is mostly mudflats.
The busy A12 skirts close, but you get to the church via a narrow land, leaving the modern world far behind.
The church opened at nine, it was nearly half past, it was probably open before nine, and was open when I pushed the porch door.
Inside is an unspoilt space, grey wood that have witnessed the centuries so that their vigour has faded to almost no colour of all.
Its the roof people come for. Wooden beams and pairs of wooden angels. I have brought my big lens so to snap them.
My plan was to visit the large and impressive church in Southwold. I turned off the A12 and drove along the straight road into the town, where I found multiple sets of roadworks, and few places to park for a short time, anywhere near the church.
My back is achy, so I wanted somewhere close to park. Anyway, I drove round the town twice, found nowhere to park, so turned the car round and headed back north, until I came to South Cove.
South Cove is a small village, a few farms really, but has a fine, if rustic, well-proportioned church, set in a large churchyard.
And the church was open, so small the wide angle lens wasn't needed, and with windows close to the floor too, no big lens needed either.
Next town up is Kessingland, which until the 80s had the A12 running through the centre of it, but now a bypass lays to the west and the village is quiet. I don't think I had been of the main street, so I went in search of the church, and found it on Church Street.
Obviously.
I rarely research churches before I visit, so nothing prepared me for the interior of St Edmund.
It seems in the last two years, they church had sourced some banners with apt slogans on, banners which were made to look like large tapered ensigns, hanging from or along the supports of the roof.
A man was practicing on the organ, and the notes echoed round the church. Not only does the church have banners, it has ship's wheels and other nautical stuff, although most traditionalists won't like it, I think it hangs together, and if the congregation wants it thus, who are we to argue?
Next stop was South Cove, which I had forgotten I had visited before, so redid all my shots. But this time did see the panel featuring St Michael behind the font, where the rood steps began.
A small, perfect, church, perfect for a small country parish.
I take my shots and leave, driving back onto the A12 and heading into Lowestoft, my main task was to drive over the new bridge which spans Lake Lothing.
The town had been waiting since at least 1966 for a new bridge, and the 3rd crossing was opened in September, and offers fine views as you drive across.
I went to see the old family home. It has been renovated and looks splendid, and not much like it was when sold four years back, it looks cared for and lived in, which is what the buyer promised us he would do.
So then to the crematorium, a drive north through Gunton and past Hopton where Dougie lives, then through the housing estate behind the area hospital to the car park, and then wait.
Margaret was 89, had a long life, but friends of the same age are few, and families are now scattered. So, one can never be sure how many will attend. The chapel was half full at least, with people coming from Kent, Wiltshire and even California to be there.
The celebrant spoke for twenty minutes, saying nice things as they have to do. But, avoiding, or just hinting at faults. Whatever she had done in her life to Dougie, he still loved her, and he was in bits.
Afterward we lined up to shake his hand or give him and Pennie a hug, and allowed me to tell him he was the brother I never had. He was always there for me, and will be there for him.
More tears.
There was a wake at the pub in Hopton, but there was no one I knew other than Dougie and Penny, so I had a drink and made my excuses. These things are really for family and close friends, so I left at quarter to three, hoping to get home before midnight.
In the end, I made good time, I was going round Ipswich before four, and at the M25 junction less than an hour later, and was able to easily join it and zoom round to the bridge. No queues on the southbound side, but the queue northbound went all the way back to the M20 junction, so six mines.
I zoomed on.
I got home at ten past six, happy to have done it and go home in under three and a half hours. Dinner was defrosted ragu, pasta and reheated focaccia, which we were sitting down to eat twenty minutes after getting in.
Phew.
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Perhaps some counties have a church which sums them up. If there has to be one for Suffolk, it must be the church of the Most Holy Trinity, Blythburgh. Here is the late medieval Suffolk imagination writ large, as large as it gets, and not overwritten by the Anglican triumphalism of the 19th century. Blythburgh church is often compared with its near neighbour, St Edmund at Southwold, but this isn't a fair comparison - Southwold church is much grander, and full of urban confidence. Probably a better comparison is with St Margaret, Lowestoft, for there, too, the Reformation intervened before the tower could be rebuilt. The two churches have a lot in common, but Blythburgh has the saving grace. It is so fascinating, so stunningly beautiful, by virtue of a factor that is rare in Anglican parish churches: sheer neglect.
Holy Trinity, Blythburgh, is the church that Suffolk people know and love best, and because of this it has generated some extraordinary legends. The first is that Blythburgh, now a tiny village bisected by the fearsome A12 between London and the east coast ports, was once a thriving medieval town. This idea is used to explain the size of the church; in reality, it is almost certainly not the case. Blythburgh has always been small. But it did have an important medieval priory, and thus its church attracted enough wealthy piety on the eve of the Reformation to bankroll a spectacular rebuilding.
It is to Lavenham, Long Melford, Mildenhall, Southwold and here that we come to see the late 15th century Suffolk aesthetic in perfection. But for my money, Holy Trinity, Blythburgh, is the most significant medieval art object in the county, ranking alongside Salle in Norfolk. Look up at the clerestory; it seems impossible, there is so much glass, so little stone; and yet it rides the building with an air of permanence. Beneath, there is a coyness about the aisles that I prefer to the mathematics of Lavenham. Here, it could not have been done otherwise; it distils human architectural experience. If St Peter and St Paul at Lavenham is man talking to God, Holy Trinity at Blythburgh is God talking to man.
At the east end, a curious series of initials in Lombardic script stretch across the outer chancel wall. You can see an image of this at the top. It reads A-N-JS-B-S-T-M-S-A-H-K-R. This probably stands for Ad Nomina JesuS, Beati Sanctae Trinitas, Maria Sanctorem Anne Honorem Katherine Reconstructus ('In the name of the blessed Jesus, the Holy Trinity, and in honour of Holy Mary, Anne and Katherine, this was rebuilt'). A fanciful theory is that they are the initials of the wives of the donors. However, note the symbol of the Trinity in the T stone, and I think this is a clue to the whole piece.
Figures stand on pedestals atop the south side and east end. The most easterly is unusual, a crowned old man sitting on a throne directly on the gable end. This is a medieval image of God the Father, a rare survival. Moving westwards from here we find the Blessed Virgin in prayerful pose, Christ as the Saviour of the World holding an orb in one hand and blessing with the other, and then a collared bear with a ragged staff, a seated woodwose, another bear, this time with a collar and bell, and last of all a fox with a goose in its mouth, his jaws grasping the neck:
The porch is part of the late 15th century rebuilding, but it was considerably restored in the early 20th century. Interestingly, the angels crowning the battlements look medieval - but they weren't there in 1900, so must have come from somewhere else. Pretty much all the porch's features of interest date from this time. These include the small medieval font pressed into service as a holy water stoup, and image niche above the doors. This has been filled in more recent years by an image if the Holy Trinity; God the Father holds the Son suspended while a dove representing the Holy Spirit alights; you can see medieval versions of this at Framlingham and Little Glemham. Of all medieval imagery, this was the most frowned upon by puritans. An image of God the Father was thought the most suspicious of all idolatries. Indeed, as late as the 1870s, when the Reverend White edited the first popular edition of the Diary of William Dowsing, he actually congratulated Dowsing on destroying images of the Holy Trinity in the course of his 1644 progress through the counties of Suffolk and Cambridgeshire.
William Dowsing visited on the morning on April 9th, 1644. It was a Tuesday, and he had spent most of the week in the area. The previous day he'd been at Southwold and Walberswick to the east, but preceded his visit here with one to Blyford, which lies to the west, so he was probably staying overnight at the family home in Laxfield. He found twenty images in stained glass to take to task (a surprisingly small number, given the size of the place) and two hundred more that were inaccessible that morning (probably in the great east window). Three brass inscriptions incurred his wrath (but again, this is curious; there were many more) and he also ordered down the cross on the porch and the cross on the tower. Most significantly of all, he decided the angels in the roof should go.
Lots of Suffolk churches have angels in their roofs. None are like Blythburgh's. You step inside, and there they are, exactly as you've seen them in books and in photographs. They are awesome, breathtaking. There are twelve of them. Perhaps there were once twenty. How would you get them down if ordered to do so? The roof is so high, and the stencilling of IHS symbols would also have to go.
Perhaps this was already indistinct by the time Dowsing visited. Perhaps Tuesday, 9th of April 1644 was a dull day.
Several of the angels are peppered with lead shot. Here is another of those Suffolk legends; that Dowsing and the churchwardens fired muskets at the angels to try and bring them down. But when the angels were restored in the 1970s, the lead shot removed was found to be 18th century; contemporary with them there is a note in the churchwardens accounts that men were paid for shooting jackdaws living inside the building, so that probably explains where the shot came from. Here are some details of that wonderful roof:
The otherwise splendid church guide also repeats the error that the Holy Trinity symbol in the porch filled a gap that had been 'empty since 1644'. But there was certainly no image in it when Dowsing arrived here, or anywhere else in Suffolk; statues were completely outlawed by injunctions in the early years of the reign of Edward VI, almost a hundred years before the morning of Dowsing's visit.
Another feature used as evidence of puritan destruction is the ring fixed into the most westerly pillar of the north arcade. Cromwell's men stabled their horses here, apparently. Well, it almost certainly is a ring for tying horses to, and the broken bricks at the cleared west end also suggest this; but there is no reason to think that Cromwell and the puritans were responsible. For a full century before Cromwell, and for nearly two hundred years afterwards, a church as big as this would have had a multitude of uses. Holy Trinity was built for the rituals of the Catholic church; once these were no longer allowed, a village like Blythburgh, which can never have had more than 500 people, would have seen it as an asset in other ways. It was only with the 19th century sacramental revival brought about by the Oxford Movement that we started getting all holy again about our parish churches. Perhaps it was used as an overnight stables for passing travellers on the main road; not an un-Christian use for it to be put to, I think.
In August 1577, a great storm brought down the steeple, which fell into the church and damaged the font. This was at the height of Elizabethan superstition, and the devil was blamed; his hoof marks can still be seen on the church door. Supposedly, a black dog ran through the church, killing two parishioners; he was seen the same day at St Mary, Bungay. Black Shuck is the East Anglian devil dog, the feared hound of the marshes; and Holy Trinity is the self-styled Cathedral of the Marshes, so it is appropriate that he appeared here. You can see where the font has been broken. You can also see that this was one of the rare, beautiful seven sacrament fonts, similar in style to the one at Westhall; but, like those at neighbouring Wenhaston and Southwold, it has been completely stripped of imagery. Almost certainly, this was in the 1540s, but there is a story that the font at Wenhaston was chiselled clean as part of the 19th century restoration. More importantly in any case, the storm, or the dog, or the devil, damaged the roof; it would not be properly repaired for more than 400 years. Throughout the 17th and 18th centuries, accounts note that Holy Trinity is not impregnable to the weather. By the 19th century, parishioners attended divine service with umbrellas. By the 1880s, it was a positively dangerous building to be in, and the Bishop of Norwich ordered it closed.
Why had Holy Trinity not been restored? Simply, this is a big church, with a tiny village. There was no rich patron, and in any case the parishioners had a passion for Methodism. Probably, repairs had been mooted, but not a wholesale restoration as we have seen at Lavenham, Long Melford and Southwold. By the 1880s, attention in England had turned to the preservation of medieval detail; in short, restorations were not as ignorant as they had been a quarter of a century earlier. Suggestions that Holy Trinity should be restored in the manner of the other three were blocked by the Society for the Preservation of Ancient Buildings, and this owed a lot to the energy of William Morris, the Society's secretary.
The slow, patient restoration of this building took the best part of a century; indeed, when I first visited in the 1980s I was still aware of a sense of decay.
Nothing could be further from the truth today. You step into a wide, white, open space, one of England's great church interiors. There, high above you, is the glorious roof and the angels of God. The brick floors spread around the scraped font, which still bears its dedicatory inscription and standing places for participants. You turn into the central gangway, and more than twenty empty indents for brasses stretch before you. Dowsing can be blamed for the destruction of hardly any of them. In reality, you see the work of 18th and 19th century thieves and collectors.
The bench-ends are superb. The benches themselves were reconstructed in the late 19th century, supposedly from the main post of Westleton windmill, but the ends are some of the county's finest medieval images. There are partial sets of basically three series: the Seven Deadly Sins, the Seven Works of Mercy, and the Labours of the Seasons. There are also angels bearing symbols of the Holy Trinity and the Crown. There are other figures too, obscure and fragmentary and whose purpose is unclear, as if surviving figments of a broken dream. The quality of what remains makes you grieve for what has been lost.
The rood screen is a disappointment; most of it is modern, and the medieval bits perfunctory and scoured. Having said this, note how tiny the exit from the north aisle rood loft stair is. Also at this end of the church, a scattering of medieval glass, mainly angels. There is more in the south aisle, including a collection of shields of the Holy Trinity:
But step through the central aisle to see something remarkable. The priest and choir stalls are fronted by exquisite carvings of the Apostles, the Evangelists, John the Baptist, St Stephen, Mary Queen of Heaven and Christ in Majesty. Seeing these eighteen carvings is a bit like gobbling up a very large box of chocolates, but it is worth stopping to consider quite how genuine they all are. For a start, there could not have been choir stalls here in medieval times, and in any case we know that these desks and their frontages were in the north aisle chapel until the 19th century. They were used as school benches in the 17th century; they still bear holes for inkpots, and the graffiti of a bored Dutch child (his father was probably working on draining the marshes) is dated 1665. There is nothing at all like them anywhere else in Suffolk.
Whatever, the east end of the chancel and aisles are thrillingly modern, wholly devotional. In the north aisle, traditionally the Hopton chantry, extraordinary friezes of skeletons become symbols of the four evangelists behind the altar. Beside them is Peter Ball's beautiful Madonna and Child. Separating the south aisle chapel from the sanctuary is is one of Suffolk's biggest Easter sepulchres, tomb of the Hoptons. Behind the high altar, branches arranged like huge stag antlers spread dramatically. It is all just about perfect. Tucked to one side of the organ is a clockjack; Suffolk has two, and the other is down-river at Southwold. They date from the late 17th century, and presumably once struck the hours; at high church Blythburgh and Southwold today, they are used to announce the entry of the ministers.
This is a wonderful church to wander around in, the light and the air changing with the seasons, a suffused sense of the numinous presenting its different faces according to the time of day and time of year. Come here on a bright spring morning, or in the drowsy heat of a summer's day. Come on a cold winter afternoon as the colours fade and the smell of woodsmoke from neighbouring cottages weaves a spell above the old stone floors and woodwork. And before you leave, find the doorway in the south-west corner of the nave. It opens onto a low, narrow stairway. You can go up it. It leads up into the parvise storey of the south porch, now reappointed and dedicated as a tiny chapel, a peaceful spot to spend a few moments before continuing your journey.
You may be reading this entry in a far-off land; or perhaps you are here at home. Whatever, if you have not visited this church, then I urge you to do so. It is the most beautiful church in Suffolk, a wonderful art object, and it is always open in daylight. It remains one of the most significant medieval buildings in England. If you only visit one of Suffolk's churches, then make it this one
Simon Knott, 2014.
There is a point in our lives when we, the children, become the adults in the relationship with our parents.
It will come for most of us, no one tells you this will happen, and you are unprepared for it. But it comes
And each of us has a different relationship with our parents than everyone else, what's right for me, and my views, do not apply to you.
Yesterday, was the funeral of the person I have known longer than anyone else on this earth, now that my family is all gone. Margaret and Brian were married a few weeks before mine, and moved into the new build bungalow also a few weeks before my parents.
They also had one child, a son, and Douglas and I have been friends longer than I have been friends with anyone else, although he is a year younger than me.
I have my views on Margaret, but the reason I travelled back to Suffolk for her funeral, was to be there for Douggie, and give him the support he has given me through three weddings and two funerals.
Norfolk isn't far away, and the funeral and wake were taking place just a mile or two over the border from Suffolk, but the roads beyond Ipswich are poor, twisty and where there are accidents or roadworks, no real alternative routes.
I was also leaving just before six, so had to get across the Thames at Dartford and up the A12 during rush hour, so it wouldn't be easy. But at least there would be no rain.
I was up at five, dressed and washed, with time to drink a coffee before leaving. Loading the car with me and my camera bag, as I had plans in case I had time, to visit a church or two.
It was dark up the M20 to Dartford, and busy with traffic, but I made good time, and listened to a loop of old music podcasts all day, so chat and music kept me awake.
I got onto the M25 with no problem, and through the tunnels with only a slight slowdown, but on the other side there were queues.
Despite not wanting to spend money on a new railway, there is always money for road and junction improvements, even if it will just increase traffic. So it is that the M25/A12 junction is being upgraded, and with narrow lanes, speed restrictions, jams began a good four miles before the roadworks started.
I forced my way to the left hand lane, which became a filter lane, meaning it was much quicker than the remaining four lanes. But then came the roundabout. The roundabout under the motorway is the reason the improvements are needed, and queueing traffic blocks the junctions and causes even more backlogs.
Of course, traffic lights on roundabouts are never good ideas, so I was confronted with a wall of traffic, so when the light went green, I went in front of a track before it could shuffle forward and block more of the junction, then there was some clear road.
And ducking into the extreme left hand lane, I dodged past the queuing traffic that was blocking the exit from the A12, and onto clear road.
Yay.
The sky was clear, the sun about to rise, and it was going to be a glorious day.
Just north of Chelmsford, I stopped for breakfast: two sausage rolls and a coffee from Greggs, then filled up the tank and on my way north.
More traffic at Ipswich where the A12 meets the A14 to get over the Orwell, but then clear traffic again after ten minutes delay.
Soon, though, the road narrows to two lane blacktop, and all is well until you meet a slower vehicle. Like a tractor as we did soon after Whickham Market.
For 15 long minutes the tractor lead a growing snake of cars along the winding lanes until it pulled over and we could get past.
Blythburgh was always the marker when travelling back from Ipswich or beyond, that we were nearly home. he handsome church sits high, for Suffolk, overlooking the village and river which is mostly mudflats.
The busy A12 skirts close, but you get to the church via a narrow land, leaving the modern world far behind.
The church opened at nine, it was nearly half past, it was probably open before nine, and was open when I pushed the porch door.
Inside is an unspoilt space, grey wood that have witnessed the centuries so that their vigour has faded to almost no colour of all.
Its the roof people come for. Wooden beams and pairs of wooden angels. I have brought my big lens so to snap them.
My plan was to visit the large and impressive church in Southwold. I turned off the A12 and drove along the straight road into the town, where I found multiple sets of roadworks, and few places to park for a short time, anywhere near the church.
My back is achy, so I wanted somewhere close to park. Anyway, I drove round the town twice, found nowhere to park, so turned the car round and headed back north, until I came to South Cove.
South Cove is a small village, a few farms really, but has a fine, if rustic, well-proportioned church, set in a large churchyard.
And the church was open, so small the wide angle lens wasn't needed, and with windows close to the floor too, no big lens needed either.
Next town up is Kessingland, which until the 80s had the A12 running through the centre of it, but now a bypass lays to the west and the village is quiet. I don't think I had been of the main street, so I went in search of the church, and found it on Church Street.
Obviously.
I rarely research churches before I visit, so nothing prepared me for the interior of St Edmund.
It seems in the last two years, they church had sourced some banners with apt slogans on, banners which were made to look like large tapered ensigns, hanging from or along the supports of the roof.
A man was practicing on the organ, and the notes echoed round the church. Not only does the church have banners, it has ship's wheels and other nautical stuff, although most traditionalists won't like it, I think it hangs together, and if the congregation wants it thus, who are we to argue?
Next stop was South Cove, which I had forgotten I had visited before, so redid all my shots. But this time did see the panel featuring St Michael behind the font, where the rood steps began.
A small, perfect, church, perfect for a small country parish.
I take my shots and leave, driving back onto the A12 and heading into Lowestoft, my main task was to drive over the new bridge which spans Lake Lothing.
The town had been waiting since at least 1966 for a new bridge, and the 3rd crossing was opened in September, and offers fine views as you drive across.
I went to see the old family home. It has been renovated and looks splendid, and not much like it was when sold four years back, it looks cared for and lived in, which is what the buyer promised us he would do.
So then to the crematorium, a drive north through Gunton and past Hopton where Dougie lives, then through the housing estate behind the area hospital to the car park, and then wait.
Margaret was 89, had a long life, but friends of the same age are few, and families are now scattered. So, one can never be sure how many will attend. The chapel was half full at least, with people coming from Kent, Wiltshire and even California to be there.
The celebrant spoke for twenty minutes, saying nice things as they have to do. But, avoiding, or just hinting at faults. Whatever she had done in her life to Dougie, he still loved her, and he was in bits.
Afterward we lined up to shake his hand or give him and Pennie a hug, and allowed me to tell him he was the brother I never had. He was always there for me, and will be there for him.
More tears.
There was a wake at the pub in Hopton, but there was no one I knew other than Dougie and Penny, so I had a drink and made my excuses. These things are really for family and close friends, so I left at quarter to three, hoping to get home before midnight.
In the end, I made good time, I was going round Ipswich before four, and at the M25 junction less than an hour later, and was able to easily join it and zoom round to the bridge. No queues on the southbound side, but the queue northbound went all the way back to the M20 junction, so six mines.
I zoomed on.
I got home at ten past six, happy to have done it and go home in under three and a half hours. Dinner was defrosted ragu, pasta and reheated focaccia, which we were sitting down to eat twenty minutes after getting in.
Phew.
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Perhaps some counties have a church which sums them up. If there has to be one for Suffolk, it must be the church of the Most Holy Trinity, Blythburgh. Here is the late medieval Suffolk imagination writ large, as large as it gets, and not overwritten by the Anglican triumphalism of the 19th century. Blythburgh church is often compared with its near neighbour, St Edmund at Southwold, but this isn't a fair comparison - Southwold church is much grander, and full of urban confidence. Probably a better comparison is with St Margaret, Lowestoft, for there, too, the Reformation intervened before the tower could be rebuilt. The two churches have a lot in common, but Blythburgh has the saving grace. It is so fascinating, so stunningly beautiful, by virtue of a factor that is rare in Anglican parish churches: sheer neglect.
Holy Trinity, Blythburgh, is the church that Suffolk people know and love best, and because of this it has generated some extraordinary legends. The first is that Blythburgh, now a tiny village bisected by the fearsome A12 between London and the east coast ports, was once a thriving medieval town. This idea is used to explain the size of the church; in reality, it is almost certainly not the case. Blythburgh has always been small. But it did have an important medieval priory, and thus its church attracted enough wealthy piety on the eve of the Reformation to bankroll a spectacular rebuilding.
It is to Lavenham, Long Melford, Mildenhall, Southwold and here that we come to see the late 15th century Suffolk aesthetic in perfection. But for my money, Holy Trinity, Blythburgh, is the most significant medieval art object in the county, ranking alongside Salle in Norfolk. Look up at the clerestory; it seems impossible, there is so much glass, so little stone; and yet it rides the building with an air of permanence. Beneath, there is a coyness about the aisles that I prefer to the mathematics of Lavenham. Here, it could not have been done otherwise; it distils human architectural experience. If St Peter and St Paul at Lavenham is man talking to God, Holy Trinity at Blythburgh is God talking to man.
At the east end, a curious series of initials in Lombardic script stretch across the outer chancel wall. You can see an image of this at the top. It reads A-N-JS-B-S-T-M-S-A-H-K-R. This probably stands for Ad Nomina JesuS, Beati Sanctae Trinitas, Maria Sanctorem Anne Honorem Katherine Reconstructus ('In the name of the blessed Jesus, the Holy Trinity, and in honour of Holy Mary, Anne and Katherine, this was rebuilt'). A fanciful theory is that they are the initials of the wives of the donors. However, note the symbol of the Trinity in the T stone, and I think this is a clue to the whole piece.
Figures stand on pedestals atop the south side and east end. The most easterly is unusual, a crowned old man sitting on a throne directly on the gable end. This is a medieval image of God the Father, a rare survival. Moving westwards from here we find the Blessed Virgin in prayerful pose, Christ as the Saviour of the World holding an orb in one hand and blessing with the other, and then a collared bear with a ragged staff, a seated woodwose, another bear, this time with a collar and bell, and last of all a fox with a goose in its mouth, his jaws grasping the neck:
The porch is part of the late 15th century rebuilding, but it was considerably restored in the early 20th century. Interestingly, the angels crowning the battlements look medieval - but they weren't there in 1900, so must have come from somewhere else. Pretty much all the porch's features of interest date from this time. These include the small medieval font pressed into service as a holy water stoup, and image niche above the doors. This has been filled in more recent years by an image if the Holy Trinity; God the Father holds the Son suspended while a dove representing the Holy Spirit alights; you can see medieval versions of this at Framlingham and Little Glemham. Of all medieval imagery, this was the most frowned upon by puritans. An image of God the Father was thought the most suspicious of all idolatries. Indeed, as late as the 1870s, when the Reverend White edited the first popular edition of the Diary of William Dowsing, he actually congratulated Dowsing on destroying images of the Holy Trinity in the course of his 1644 progress through the counties of Suffolk and Cambridgeshire.
William Dowsing visited on the morning on April 9th, 1644. It was a Tuesday, and he had spent most of the week in the area. The previous day he'd been at Southwold and Walberswick to the east, but preceded his visit here with one to Blyford, which lies to the west, so he was probably staying overnight at the family home in Laxfield. He found twenty images in stained glass to take to task (a surprisingly small number, given the size of the place) and two hundred more that were inaccessible that morning (probably in the great east window). Three brass inscriptions incurred his wrath (but again, this is curious; there were many more) and he also ordered down the cross on the porch and the cross on the tower. Most significantly of all, he decided the angels in the roof should go.
Lots of Suffolk churches have angels in their roofs. None are like Blythburgh's. You step inside, and there they are, exactly as you've seen them in books and in photographs. They are awesome, breathtaking. There are twelve of them. Perhaps there were once twenty. How would you get them down if ordered to do so? The roof is so high, and the stencilling of IHS symbols would also have to go.
Perhaps this was already indistinct by the time Dowsing visited. Perhaps Tuesday, 9th of April 1644 was a dull day.
Several of the angels are peppered with lead shot. Here is another of those Suffolk legends; that Dowsing and the churchwardens fired muskets at the angels to try and bring them down. But when the angels were restored in the 1970s, the lead shot removed was found to be 18th century; contemporary with them there is a note in the churchwardens accounts that men were paid for shooting jackdaws living inside the building, so that probably explains where the shot came from. Here are some details of that wonderful roof:
The otherwise splendid church guide also repeats the error that the Holy Trinity symbol in the porch filled a gap that had been 'empty since 1644'. But there was certainly no image in it when Dowsing arrived here, or anywhere else in Suffolk; statues were completely outlawed by injunctions in the early years of the reign of Edward VI, almost a hundred years before the morning of Dowsing's visit.
Another feature used as evidence of puritan destruction is the ring fixed into the most westerly pillar of the north arcade. Cromwell's men stabled their horses here, apparently. Well, it almost certainly is a ring for tying horses to, and the broken bricks at the cleared west end also suggest this; but there is no reason to think that Cromwell and the puritans were responsible. For a full century before Cromwell, and for nearly two hundred years afterwards, a church as big as this would have had a multitude of uses. Holy Trinity was built for the rituals of the Catholic church; once these were no longer allowed, a village like Blythburgh, which can never have had more than 500 people, would have seen it as an asset in other ways. It was only with the 19th century sacramental revival brought about by the Oxford Movement that we started getting all holy again about our parish churches. Perhaps it was used as an overnight stables for passing travellers on the main road; not an un-Christian use for it to be put to, I think.
In August 1577, a great storm brought down the steeple, which fell into the church and damaged the font. This was at the height of Elizabethan superstition, and the devil was blamed; his hoof marks can still be seen on the church door. Supposedly, a black dog ran through the church, killing two parishioners; he was seen the same day at St Mary, Bungay. Black Shuck is the East Anglian devil dog, the feared hound of the marshes; and Holy Trinity is the self-styled Cathedral of the Marshes, so it is appropriate that he appeared here. You can see where the font has been broken. You can also see that this was one of the rare, beautiful seven sacrament fonts, similar in style to the one at Westhall; but, like those at neighbouring Wenhaston and Southwold, it has been completely stripped of imagery. Almost certainly, this was in the 1540s, but there is a story that the font at Wenhaston was chiselled clean as part of the 19th century restoration. More importantly in any case, the storm, or the dog, or the devil, damaged the roof; it would not be properly repaired for more than 400 years. Throughout the 17th and 18th centuries, accounts note that Holy Trinity is not impregnable to the weather. By the 19th century, parishioners attended divine service with umbrellas. By the 1880s, it was a positively dangerous building to be in, and the Bishop of Norwich ordered it closed.
Why had Holy Trinity not been restored? Simply, this is a big church, with a tiny village. There was no rich patron, and in any case the parishioners had a passion for Methodism. Probably, repairs had been mooted, but not a wholesale restoration as we have seen at Lavenham, Long Melford and Southwold. By the 1880s, attention in England had turned to the preservation of medieval detail; in short, restorations were not as ignorant as they had been a quarter of a century earlier. Suggestions that Holy Trinity should be restored in the manner of the other three were blocked by the Society for the Preservation of Ancient Buildings, and this owed a lot to the energy of William Morris, the Society's secretary.
The slow, patient restoration of this building took the best part of a century; indeed, when I first visited in the 1980s I was still aware of a sense of decay.
Nothing could be further from the truth today. You step into a wide, white, open space, one of England's great church interiors. There, high above you, is the glorious roof and the angels of God. The brick floors spread around the scraped font, which still bears its dedicatory inscription and standing places for participants. You turn into the central gangway, and more than twenty empty indents for brasses stretch before you. Dowsing can be blamed for the destruction of hardly any of them. In reality, you see the work of 18th and 19th century thieves and collectors.
The bench-ends are superb. The benches themselves were reconstructed in the late 19th century, supposedly from the main post of Westleton windmill, but the ends are some of the county's finest medieval images. There are partial sets of basically three series: the Seven Deadly Sins, the Seven Works of Mercy, and the Labours of the Seasons. There are also angels bearing symbols of the Holy Trinity and the Crown. There are other figures too, obscure and fragmentary and whose purpose is unclear, as if surviving figments of a broken dream. The quality of what remains makes you grieve for what has been lost.
The rood screen is a disappointment; most of it is modern, and the medieval bits perfunctory and scoured. Having said this, note how tiny the exit from the north aisle rood loft stair is. Also at this end of the church, a scattering of medieval glass, mainly angels. There is more in the south aisle, including a collection of shields of the Holy Trinity:
But step through the central aisle to see something remarkable. The priest and choir stalls are fronted by exquisite carvings of the Apostles, the Evangelists, John the Baptist, St Stephen, Mary Queen of Heaven and Christ in Majesty. Seeing these eighteen carvings is a bit like gobbling up a very large box of chocolates, but it is worth stopping to consider quite how genuine they all are. For a start, there could not have been choir stalls here in medieval times, and in any case we know that these desks and their frontages were in the north aisle chapel until the 19th century. They were used as school benches in the 17th century; they still bear holes for inkpots, and the graffiti of a bored Dutch child (his father was probably working on draining the marshes) is dated 1665. There is nothing at all like them anywhere else in Suffolk.
Whatever, the east end of the chancel and aisles are thrillingly modern, wholly devotional. In the north aisle, traditionally the Hopton chantry, extraordinary friezes of skeletons become symbols of the four evangelists behind the altar. Beside them is Peter Ball's beautiful Madonna and Child. Separating the south aisle chapel from the sanctuary is is one of Suffolk's biggest Easter sepulchres, tomb of the Hoptons. Behind the high altar, branches arranged like huge stag antlers spread dramatically. It is all just about perfect. Tucked to one side of the organ is a clockjack; Suffolk has two, and the other is down-river at Southwold. They date from the late 17th century, and presumably once struck the hours; at high church Blythburgh and Southwold today, they are used to announce the entry of the ministers.
This is a wonderful church to wander around in, the light and the air changing with the seasons, a suffused sense of the numinous presenting its different faces according to the time of day and time of year. Come here on a bright spring morning, or in the drowsy heat of a summer's day. Come on a cold winter afternoon as the colours fade and the smell of woodsmoke from neighbouring cottages weaves a spell above the old stone floors and woodwork. And before you leave, find the doorway in the south-west corner of the nave. It opens onto a low, narrow stairway. You can go up it. It leads up into the parvise storey of the south porch, now reappointed and dedicated as a tiny chapel, a peaceful spot to spend a few moments before continuing your journey.
You may be reading this entry in a far-off land; or perhaps you are here at home. Whatever, if you have not visited this church, then I urge you to do so. It is the most beautiful church in Suffolk, a wonderful art object, and it is always open in daylight. It remains one of the most significant medieval buildings in England. If you only visit one of Suffolk's churches, then make it this one
Simon Knott, 2014.
PAINTING 13
"May 19, 2016
GOD'S LIVING BIBLE ---- THE THIRD TESTAMENT ---- GOD'S NEW REVELATIONS ©
...
God's Thoughts For Bestowing Divine Wisdom
God Speaks on Your Relationship to The Universes
Angels and Aliens
(God Speaking To Anne Terri Through The Holy Spirit)
1. I Am your Foundation for Everything. My Light IS True, and yours Reflects more of My Truth as you continue to work with Me.
2. The closer you are to the Source, the Brighter your own Light will become.
3. Reflection of the Source is the Reflection of your Creator.
4. Great Care is to be taken, not to reflect from false lights, which many still carry like burdens.
5. The Universe has yet to truly be explained.
6. One must be patient and await Heaven's Dimensions for these Revelations, or seek to Awaken to My Presence within you, to be able to Interact and Speak with Me.
7. Anne you have been working with Us, in Heaven's Dimensions for a long time, even though your memory has been Withheld and I Keep your view limited.
8. We have held many wonderful meetings, and you have posed many questions.
9. Today, I will Answer the ones you asked on Angels and Aliens.
10.Yes there are other lifeforms on various planets within My Infinite universes, now in place.
11.There are no limits to My Power, thus place no limits upon Me, without Knowledge.
12.Recently you have wondered about your place within this Grand Plan.
13.On earth you are not a giant, nor are you the smallest -however- on another planet, you may be the Giant, or even minuscule next to others who reside there. Your perception is based on your environment, and this is a simplification.
14. You asked Me, if there modes of transport between solar systems, where certain lifeforms of advanced levels, have the ability to travel great distances, bringing with them their own environment necessary to continue living long-term, without stress?
15. Yes, but aliens are not communicating with those who Channel spirits through certain methods on Earth, for these who claim to be aliens are spirits who would have you believe they are going to arrive with spaceships to pick up the Chosen ones.
16. They promise much, but leave you waiting.
17. These are only wayward spirits who have yet to Ascend, in order to receive their positions as one of Heaven's Angels, and are creating chaos while waiting for their next life, and bring only untruths. This is but an example of what they are willing to tell you in pretending to be of My Sanctioned Angels. Beware of those telling you they are Archangels or that you are a famous Biblical Figure, Reincarnated.
18. If you have not yet heard Me Speak Through The Holy Spirit, and are Channeling... to be Certain of Divine Truth, contact The Council. It is They Who communicated -Spiritually- with the late William LePar - whose family have permitted Us to feature his work within The Third Testament- and Shirley MacLaine, who has also written of her interaction with The Council.
19. Know that The Council -Themselves- reside in Heaven's Dimensions, with My Permission to Teach from time to time to Raise the Faith. They are Angels Who use no prefix titles or names, but reach out to those who are seeking and willing to listen.
20. Any alien communication would not be received Spiritually, but via Advanced communication they have developed, and they would contact certain government officials of your planet.
21. Eventually you will receive facts from certain records yet to be released, on what has been happening in this area.
22. AMEN”
RELATED LINKS
GOD'S ANGELS
godslivingbible.proboards.com/board/11/god-angels
THE UNIVERSE
godslivingbible.proboards.com/board/227/universe
THE PLANETS AND LIFE ON OTHER PLANETS
There is a point in our lives when we, the children, become the adults in the relationship with our parents.
It will come for most of us, no one tells you this will happen, and you are unprepared for it. But it comes
And each of us has a different relationship with our parents than everyone else, what's right for me, and my views, do not apply to you.
Yesterday, was the funeral of the person I have known longer than anyone else on this earth, now that my family is all gone. Margaret and Brian were married a few weeks before mine, and moved into the new build bungalow also a few weeks before my parents.
They also had one child, a son, and Douglas and I have been friends longer than I have been friends with anyone else, although he is a year younger than me.
I have my views on Margaret, but the reason I travelled back to Suffolk for her funeral, was to be there for Douggie, and give him the support he has given me through three weddings and two funerals.
Norfolk isn't far away, and the funeral and wake were taking place just a mile or two over the border from Suffolk, but the roads beyond Ipswich are poor, twisty and where there are accidents or roadworks, no real alternative routes.
I was also leaving just before six, so had to get across the Thames at Dartford and up the A12 during rush hour, so it wouldn't be easy. But at least there would be no rain.
I was up at five, dressed and washed, with time to drink a coffee before leaving. Loading the car with me and my camera bag, as I had plans in case I had time, to visit a church or two.
It was dark up the M20 to Dartford, and busy with traffic, but I made good time, and listened to a loop of old music podcasts all day, so chat and music kept me awake.
I got onto the M25 with no problem, and through the tunnels with only a slight slowdown, but on the other side there were queues.
Despite not wanting to spend money on a new railway, there is always money for road and junction improvements, even if it will just increase traffic. So it is that the M25/A12 junction is being upgraded, and with narrow lanes, speed restrictions, jams began a good four miles before the roadworks started.
I forced my way to the left hand lane, which became a filter lane, meaning it was much quicker than the remaining four lanes. But then came the roundabout. The roundabout under the motorway is the reason the improvements are needed, and queueing traffic blocks the junctions and causes even more backlogs.
Of course, traffic lights on roundabouts are never good ideas, so I was confronted with a wall of traffic, so when the light went green, I went in front of a track before it could shuffle forward and block more of the junction, then there was some clear road.
And ducking into the extreme left hand lane, I dodged past the queuing traffic that was blocking the exit from the A12, and onto clear road.
Yay.
The sky was clear, the sun about to rise, and it was going to be a glorious day.
Just north of Chelmsford, I stopped for breakfast: two sausage rolls and a coffee from Greggs, then filled up the tank and on my way north.
More traffic at Ipswich where the A12 meets the A14 to get over the Orwell, but then clear traffic again after ten minutes delay.
Soon, though, the road narrows to two lane blacktop, and all is well until you meet a slower vehicle. Like a tractor as we did soon after Whickham Market.
For 15 long minutes the tractor lead a growing snake of cars along the winding lanes until it pulled over and we could get past.
Blythburgh was always the marker when travelling back from Ipswich or beyond, that we were nearly home. he handsome church sits high, for Suffolk, overlooking the village and river which is mostly mudflats.
The busy A12 skirts close, but you get to the church via a narrow land, leaving the modern world far behind.
The church opened at nine, it was nearly half past, it was probably open before nine, and was open when I pushed the porch door.
Inside is an unspoilt space, grey wood that have witnessed the centuries so that their vigour has faded to almost no colour of all.
Its the roof people come for. Wooden beams and pairs of wooden angels. I have brought my big lens so to snap them.
My plan was to visit the large and impressive church in Southwold. I turned off the A12 and drove along the straight road into the town, where I found multiple sets of roadworks, and few places to park for a short time, anywhere near the church.
My back is achy, so I wanted somewhere close to park. Anyway, I drove round the town twice, found nowhere to park, so turned the car round and headed back north, until I came to South Cove.
South Cove is a small village, a few farms really, but has a fine, if rustic, well-proportioned church, set in a large churchyard.
And the church was open, so small the wide angle lens wasn't needed, and with windows close to the floor too, no big lens needed either.
Next town up is Kessingland, which until the 80s had the A12 running through the centre of it, but now a bypass lays to the west and the village is quiet. I don't think I had been of the main street, so I went in search of the church, and found it on Church Street.
Obviously.
I rarely research churches before I visit, so nothing prepared me for the interior of St Edmund.
It seems in the last two years, they church had sourced some banners with apt slogans on, banners which were made to look like large tapered ensigns, hanging from or along the supports of the roof.
A man was practicing on the organ, and the notes echoed round the church. Not only does the church have banners, it has ship's wheels and other nautical stuff, although most traditionalists won't like it, I think it hangs together, and if the congregation wants it thus, who are we to argue?
Next stop was South Cove, which I had forgotten I had visited before, so redid all my shots. But this time did see the panel featuring St Michael behind the font, where the rood steps began.
A small, perfect, church, perfect for a small country parish.
I take my shots and leave, driving back onto the A12 and heading into Lowestoft, my main task was to drive over the new bridge which spans Lake Lothing.
The town had been waiting since at least 1966 for a new bridge, and the 3rd crossing was opened in September, and offers fine views as you drive across.
I went to see the old family home. It has been renovated and looks splendid, and not much like it was when sold four years back, it looks cared for and lived in, which is what the buyer promised us he would do.
So then to the crematorium, a drive north through Gunton and past Hopton where Dougie lives, then through the housing estate behind the area hospital to the car park, and then wait.
Margaret was 89, had a long life, but friends of the same age are few, and families are now scattered. So, one can never be sure how many will attend. The chapel was half full at least, with people coming from Kent, Wiltshire and even California to be there.
The celebrant spoke for twenty minutes, saying nice things as they have to do. But, avoiding, or just hinting at faults. Whatever she had done in her life to Dougie, he still loved her, and he was in bits.
Afterward we lined up to shake his hand or give him and Pennie a hug, and allowed me to tell him he was the brother I never had. He was always there for me, and will be there for him.
More tears.
There was a wake at the pub in Hopton, but there was no one I knew other than Dougie and Penny, so I had a drink and made my excuses. These things are really for family and close friends, so I left at quarter to three, hoping to get home before midnight.
In the end, I made good time, I was going round Ipswich before four, and at the M25 junction less than an hour later, and was able to easily join it and zoom round to the bridge. No queues on the southbound side, but the queue northbound went all the way back to the M20 junction, so six mines.
I zoomed on.
I got home at ten past six, happy to have done it and go home in under three and a half hours. Dinner was defrosted ragu, pasta and reheated focaccia, which we were sitting down to eat twenty minutes after getting in.
Phew.
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Perhaps some counties have a church which sums them up. If there has to be one for Suffolk, it must be the church of the Most Holy Trinity, Blythburgh. Here is the late medieval Suffolk imagination writ large, as large as it gets, and not overwritten by the Anglican triumphalism of the 19th century. Blythburgh church is often compared with its near neighbour, St Edmund at Southwold, but this isn't a fair comparison - Southwold church is much grander, and full of urban confidence. Probably a better comparison is with St Margaret, Lowestoft, for there, too, the Reformation intervened before the tower could be rebuilt. The two churches have a lot in common, but Blythburgh has the saving grace. It is so fascinating, so stunningly beautiful, by virtue of a factor that is rare in Anglican parish churches: sheer neglect.
Holy Trinity, Blythburgh, is the church that Suffolk people know and love best, and because of this it has generated some extraordinary legends. The first is that Blythburgh, now a tiny village bisected by the fearsome A12 between London and the east coast ports, was once a thriving medieval town. This idea is used to explain the size of the church; in reality, it is almost certainly not the case. Blythburgh has always been small. But it did have an important medieval priory, and thus its church attracted enough wealthy piety on the eve of the Reformation to bankroll a spectacular rebuilding.
It is to Lavenham, Long Melford, Mildenhall, Southwold and here that we come to see the late 15th century Suffolk aesthetic in perfection. But for my money, Holy Trinity, Blythburgh, is the most significant medieval art object in the county, ranking alongside Salle in Norfolk. Look up at the clerestory; it seems impossible, there is so much glass, so little stone; and yet it rides the building with an air of permanence. Beneath, there is a coyness about the aisles that I prefer to the mathematics of Lavenham. Here, it could not have been done otherwise; it distils human architectural experience. If St Peter and St Paul at Lavenham is man talking to God, Holy Trinity at Blythburgh is God talking to man.
At the east end, a curious series of initials in Lombardic script stretch across the outer chancel wall. You can see an image of this at the top. It reads A-N-JS-B-S-T-M-S-A-H-K-R. This probably stands for Ad Nomina JesuS, Beati Sanctae Trinitas, Maria Sanctorem Anne Honorem Katherine Reconstructus ('In the name of the blessed Jesus, the Holy Trinity, and in honour of Holy Mary, Anne and Katherine, this was rebuilt'). A fanciful theory is that they are the initials of the wives of the donors. However, note the symbol of the Trinity in the T stone, and I think this is a clue to the whole piece.
Figures stand on pedestals atop the south side and east end. The most easterly is unusual, a crowned old man sitting on a throne directly on the gable end. This is a medieval image of God the Father, a rare survival. Moving westwards from here we find the Blessed Virgin in prayerful pose, Christ as the Saviour of the World holding an orb in one hand and blessing with the other, and then a collared bear with a ragged staff, a seated woodwose, another bear, this time with a collar and bell, and last of all a fox with a goose in its mouth, his jaws grasping the neck:
The porch is part of the late 15th century rebuilding, but it was considerably restored in the early 20th century. Interestingly, the angels crowning the battlements look medieval - but they weren't there in 1900, so must have come from somewhere else. Pretty much all the porch's features of interest date from this time. These include the small medieval font pressed into service as a holy water stoup, and image niche above the doors. This has been filled in more recent years by an image if the Holy Trinity; God the Father holds the Son suspended while a dove representing the Holy Spirit alights; you can see medieval versions of this at Framlingham and Little Glemham. Of all medieval imagery, this was the most frowned upon by puritans. An image of God the Father was thought the most suspicious of all idolatries. Indeed, as late as the 1870s, when the Reverend White edited the first popular edition of the Diary of William Dowsing, he actually congratulated Dowsing on destroying images of the Holy Trinity in the course of his 1644 progress through the counties of Suffolk and Cambridgeshire.
William Dowsing visited on the morning on April 9th, 1644. It was a Tuesday, and he had spent most of the week in the area. The previous day he'd been at Southwold and Walberswick to the east, but preceded his visit here with one to Blyford, which lies to the west, so he was probably staying overnight at the family home in Laxfield. He found twenty images in stained glass to take to task (a surprisingly small number, given the size of the place) and two hundred more that were inaccessible that morning (probably in the great east window). Three brass inscriptions incurred his wrath (but again, this is curious; there were many more) and he also ordered down the cross on the porch and the cross on the tower. Most significantly of all, he decided the angels in the roof should go.
Lots of Suffolk churches have angels in their roofs. None are like Blythburgh's. You step inside, and there they are, exactly as you've seen them in books and in photographs. They are awesome, breathtaking. There are twelve of them. Perhaps there were once twenty. How would you get them down if ordered to do so? The roof is so high, and the stencilling of IHS symbols would also have to go.
Perhaps this was already indistinct by the time Dowsing visited. Perhaps Tuesday, 9th of April 1644 was a dull day.
Several of the angels are peppered with lead shot. Here is another of those Suffolk legends; that Dowsing and the churchwardens fired muskets at the angels to try and bring them down. But when the angels were restored in the 1970s, the lead shot removed was found to be 18th century; contemporary with them there is a note in the churchwardens accounts that men were paid for shooting jackdaws living inside the building, so that probably explains where the shot came from. Here are some details of that wonderful roof:
The otherwise splendid church guide also repeats the error that the Holy Trinity symbol in the porch filled a gap that had been 'empty since 1644'. But there was certainly no image in it when Dowsing arrived here, or anywhere else in Suffolk; statues were completely outlawed by injunctions in the early years of the reign of Edward VI, almost a hundred years before the morning of Dowsing's visit.
Another feature used as evidence of puritan destruction is the ring fixed into the most westerly pillar of the north arcade. Cromwell's men stabled their horses here, apparently. Well, it almost certainly is a ring for tying horses to, and the broken bricks at the cleared west end also suggest this; but there is no reason to think that Cromwell and the puritans were responsible. For a full century before Cromwell, and for nearly two hundred years afterwards, a church as big as this would have had a multitude of uses. Holy Trinity was built for the rituals of the Catholic church; once these were no longer allowed, a village like Blythburgh, which can never have had more than 500 people, would have seen it as an asset in other ways. It was only with the 19th century sacramental revival brought about by the Oxford Movement that we started getting all holy again about our parish churches. Perhaps it was used as an overnight stables for passing travellers on the main road; not an un-Christian use for it to be put to, I think.
In August 1577, a great storm brought down the steeple, which fell into the church and damaged the font. This was at the height of Elizabethan superstition, and the devil was blamed; his hoof marks can still be seen on the church door. Supposedly, a black dog ran through the church, killing two parishioners; he was seen the same day at St Mary, Bungay. Black Shuck is the East Anglian devil dog, the feared hound of the marshes; and Holy Trinity is the self-styled Cathedral of the Marshes, so it is appropriate that he appeared here. You can see where the font has been broken. You can also see that this was one of the rare, beautiful seven sacrament fonts, similar in style to the one at Westhall; but, like those at neighbouring Wenhaston and Southwold, it has been completely stripped of imagery. Almost certainly, this was in the 1540s, but there is a story that the font at Wenhaston was chiselled clean as part of the 19th century restoration. More importantly in any case, the storm, or the dog, or the devil, damaged the roof; it would not be properly repaired for more than 400 years. Throughout the 17th and 18th centuries, accounts note that Holy Trinity is not impregnable to the weather. By the 19th century, parishioners attended divine service with umbrellas. By the 1880s, it was a positively dangerous building to be in, and the Bishop of Norwich ordered it closed.
Why had Holy Trinity not been restored? Simply, this is a big church, with a tiny village. There was no rich patron, and in any case the parishioners had a passion for Methodism. Probably, repairs had been mooted, but not a wholesale restoration as we have seen at Lavenham, Long Melford and Southwold. By the 1880s, attention in England had turned to the preservation of medieval detail; in short, restorations were not as ignorant as they had been a quarter of a century earlier. Suggestions that Holy Trinity should be restored in the manner of the other three were blocked by the Society for the Preservation of Ancient Buildings, and this owed a lot to the energy of William Morris, the Society's secretary.
The slow, patient restoration of this building took the best part of a century; indeed, when I first visited in the 1980s I was still aware of a sense of decay.
Nothing could be further from the truth today. You step into a wide, white, open space, one of England's great church interiors. There, high above you, is the glorious roof and the angels of God. The brick floors spread around the scraped font, which still bears its dedicatory inscription and standing places for participants. You turn into the central gangway, and more than twenty empty indents for brasses stretch before you. Dowsing can be blamed for the destruction of hardly any of them. In reality, you see the work of 18th and 19th century thieves and collectors.
The bench-ends are superb. The benches themselves were reconstructed in the late 19th century, supposedly from the main post of Westleton windmill, but the ends are some of the county's finest medieval images. There are partial sets of basically three series: the Seven Deadly Sins, the Seven Works of Mercy, and the Labours of the Seasons. There are also angels bearing symbols of the Holy Trinity and the Crown. There are other figures too, obscure and fragmentary and whose purpose is unclear, as if surviving figments of a broken dream. The quality of what remains makes you grieve for what has been lost.
The rood screen is a disappointment; most of it is modern, and the medieval bits perfunctory and scoured. Having said this, note how tiny the exit from the north aisle rood loft stair is. Also at this end of the church, a scattering of medieval glass, mainly angels. There is more in the south aisle, including a collection of shields of the Holy Trinity:
But step through the central aisle to see something remarkable. The priest and choir stalls are fronted by exquisite carvings of the Apostles, the Evangelists, John the Baptist, St Stephen, Mary Queen of Heaven and Christ in Majesty. Seeing these eighteen carvings is a bit like gobbling up a very large box of chocolates, but it is worth stopping to consider quite how genuine they all are. For a start, there could not have been choir stalls here in medieval times, and in any case we know that these desks and their frontages were in the north aisle chapel until the 19th century. They were used as school benches in the 17th century; they still bear holes for inkpots, and the graffiti of a bored Dutch child (his father was probably working on draining the marshes) is dated 1665. There is nothing at all like them anywhere else in Suffolk.
Whatever, the east end of the chancel and aisles are thrillingly modern, wholly devotional. In the north aisle, traditionally the Hopton chantry, extraordinary friezes of skeletons become symbols of the four evangelists behind the altar. Beside them is Peter Ball's beautiful Madonna and Child. Separating the south aisle chapel from the sanctuary is is one of Suffolk's biggest Easter sepulchres, tomb of the Hoptons. Behind the high altar, branches arranged like huge stag antlers spread dramatically. It is all just about perfect. Tucked to one side of the organ is a clockjack; Suffolk has two, and the other is down-river at Southwold. They date from the late 17th century, and presumably once struck the hours; at high church Blythburgh and Southwold today, they are used to announce the entry of the ministers.
This is a wonderful church to wander around in, the light and the air changing with the seasons, a suffused sense of the numinous presenting its different faces according to the time of day and time of year. Come here on a bright spring morning, or in the drowsy heat of a summer's day. Come on a cold winter afternoon as the colours fade and the smell of woodsmoke from neighbouring cottages weaves a spell above the old stone floors and woodwork. And before you leave, find the doorway in the south-west corner of the nave. It opens onto a low, narrow stairway. You can go up it. It leads up into the parvise storey of the south porch, now reappointed and dedicated as a tiny chapel, a peaceful spot to spend a few moments before continuing your journey.
You may be reading this entry in a far-off land; or perhaps you are here at home. Whatever, if you have not visited this church, then I urge you to do so. It is the most beautiful church in Suffolk, a wonderful art object, and it is always open in daylight. It remains one of the most significant medieval buildings in England. If you only visit one of Suffolk's churches, then make it this one
Simon Knott, 2014.
There is a point in our lives when we, the children, become the adults in the relationship with our parents.
It will come for most of us, no one tells you this will happen, and you are unprepared for it. But it comes
And each of us has a different relationship with our parents than everyone else, what's right for me, and my views, do not apply to you.
Yesterday, was the funeral of the person I have known longer than anyone else on this earth, now that my family is all gone. Margaret and Brian were married a few weeks before mine, and moved into the new build bungalow also a few weeks before my parents.
They also had one child, a son, and Douglas and I have been friends longer than I have been friends with anyone else, although he is a year younger than me.
I have my views on Margaret, but the reason I travelled back to Suffolk for her funeral, was to be there for Douggie, and give him the support he has given me through three weddings and two funerals.
Norfolk isn't far away, and the funeral and wake were taking place just a mile or two over the border from Suffolk, but the roads beyond Ipswich are poor, twisty and where there are accidents or roadworks, no real alternative routes.
I was also leaving just before six, so had to get across the Thames at Dartford and up the A12 during rush hour, so it wouldn't be easy. But at least there would be no rain.
I was up at five, dressed and washed, with time to drink a coffee before leaving. Loading the car with me and my camera bag, as I had plans in case I had time, to visit a church or two.
It was dark up the M20 to Dartford, and busy with traffic, but I made good time, and listened to a loop of old music podcasts all day, so chat and music kept me awake.
I got onto the M25 with no problem, and through the tunnels with only a slight slowdown, but on the other side there were queues.
Despite not wanting to spend money on a new railway, there is always money for road and junction improvements, even if it will just increase traffic. So it is that the M25/A12 junction is being upgraded, and with narrow lanes, speed restrictions, jams began a good four miles before the roadworks started.
I forced my way to the left hand lane, which became a filter lane, meaning it was much quicker than the remaining four lanes. But then came the roundabout. The roundabout under the motorway is the reason the improvements are needed, and queueing traffic blocks the junctions and causes even more backlogs.
Of course, traffic lights on roundabouts are never good ideas, so I was confronted with a wall of traffic, so when the light went green, I went in front of a track before it could shuffle forward and block more of the junction, then there was some clear road.
And ducking into the extreme left hand lane, I dodged past the queuing traffic that was blocking the exit from the A12, and onto clear road.
Yay.
The sky was clear, the sun about to rise, and it was going to be a glorious day.
Just north of Chelmsford, I stopped for breakfast: two sausage rolls and a coffee from Greggs, then filled up the tank and on my way north.
More traffic at Ipswich where the A12 meets the A14 to get over the Orwell, but then clear traffic again after ten minutes delay.
Soon, though, the road narrows to two lane blacktop, and all is well until you meet a slower vehicle. Like a tractor as we did soon after Whickham Market.
For 15 long minutes the tractor lead a growing snake of cars along the winding lanes until it pulled over and we could get past.
Blythburgh was always the marker when travelling back from Ipswich or beyond, that we were nearly home. he handsome church sits high, for Suffolk, overlooking the village and river which is mostly mudflats.
The busy A12 skirts close, but you get to the church via a narrow land, leaving the modern world far behind.
The church opened at nine, it was nearly half past, it was probably open before nine, and was open when I pushed the porch door.
Inside is an unspoilt space, grey wood that have witnessed the centuries so that their vigour has faded to almost no colour of all.
Its the roof people come for. Wooden beams and pairs of wooden angels. I have brought my big lens so to snap them.
My plan was to visit the large and impressive church in Southwold. I turned off the A12 and drove along the straight road into the town, where I found multiple sets of roadworks, and few places to park for a short time, anywhere near the church.
My back is achy, so I wanted somewhere close to park. Anyway, I drove round the town twice, found nowhere to park, so turned the car round and headed back north, until I came to South Cove.
South Cove is a small village, a few farms really, but has a fine, if rustic, well-proportioned church, set in a large churchyard.
And the church was open, so small the wide angle lens wasn't needed, and with windows close to the floor too, no big lens needed either.
Next town up is Kessingland, which until the 80s had the A12 running through the centre of it, but now a bypass lays to the west and the village is quiet. I don't think I had been of the main street, so I went in search of the church, and found it on Church Street.
Obviously.
I rarely research churches before I visit, so nothing prepared me for the interior of St Edmund.
It seems in the last two years, they church had sourced some banners with apt slogans on, banners which were made to look like large tapered ensigns, hanging from or along the supports of the roof.
A man was practicing on the organ, and the notes echoed round the church. Not only does the church have banners, it has ship's wheels and other nautical stuff, although most traditionalists won't like it, I think it hangs together, and if the congregation wants it thus, who are we to argue?
Next stop was South Cove, which I had forgotten I had visited before, so redid all my shots. But this time did see the panel featuring St Michael behind the font, where the rood steps began.
A small, perfect, church, perfect for a small country parish.
I take my shots and leave, driving back onto the A12 and heading into Lowestoft, my main task was to drive over the new bridge which spans Lake Lothing.
The town had been waiting since at least 1966 for a new bridge, and the 3rd crossing was opened in September, and offers fine views as you drive across.
I went to see the old family home. It has been renovated and looks splendid, and not much like it was when sold four years back, it looks cared for and lived in, which is what the buyer promised us he would do.
So then to the crematorium, a drive north through Gunton and past Hopton where Dougie lives, then through the housing estate behind the area hospital to the car park, and then wait.
Margaret was 89, had a long life, but friends of the same age are few, and families are now scattered. So, one can never be sure how many will attend. The chapel was half full at least, with people coming from Kent, Wiltshire and even California to be there.
The celebrant spoke for twenty minutes, saying nice things as they have to do. But, avoiding, or just hinting at faults. Whatever she had done in her life to Dougie, he still loved her, and he was in bits.
Afterward we lined up to shake his hand or give him and Pennie a hug, and allowed me to tell him he was the brother I never had. He was always there for me, and will be there for him.
More tears.
There was a wake at the pub in Hopton, but there was no one I knew other than Dougie and Penny, so I had a drink and made my excuses. These things are really for family and close friends, so I left at quarter to three, hoping to get home before midnight.
In the end, I made good time, I was going round Ipswich before four, and at the M25 junction less than an hour later, and was able to easily join it and zoom round to the bridge. No queues on the southbound side, but the queue northbound went all the way back to the M20 junction, so six mines.
I zoomed on.
I got home at ten past six, happy to have done it and go home in under three and a half hours. Dinner was defrosted ragu, pasta and reheated focaccia, which we were sitting down to eat twenty minutes after getting in.
Phew.
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Perhaps some counties have a church which sums them up. If there has to be one for Suffolk, it must be the church of the Most Holy Trinity, Blythburgh. Here is the late medieval Suffolk imagination writ large, as large as it gets, and not overwritten by the Anglican triumphalism of the 19th century. Blythburgh church is often compared with its near neighbour, St Edmund at Southwold, but this isn't a fair comparison - Southwold church is much grander, and full of urban confidence. Probably a better comparison is with St Margaret, Lowestoft, for there, too, the Reformation intervened before the tower could be rebuilt. The two churches have a lot in common, but Blythburgh has the saving grace. It is so fascinating, so stunningly beautiful, by virtue of a factor that is rare in Anglican parish churches: sheer neglect.
Holy Trinity, Blythburgh, is the church that Suffolk people know and love best, and because of this it has generated some extraordinary legends. The first is that Blythburgh, now a tiny village bisected by the fearsome A12 between London and the east coast ports, was once a thriving medieval town. This idea is used to explain the size of the church; in reality, it is almost certainly not the case. Blythburgh has always been small. But it did have an important medieval priory, and thus its church attracted enough wealthy piety on the eve of the Reformation to bankroll a spectacular rebuilding.
It is to Lavenham, Long Melford, Mildenhall, Southwold and here that we come to see the late 15th century Suffolk aesthetic in perfection. But for my money, Holy Trinity, Blythburgh, is the most significant medieval art object in the county, ranking alongside Salle in Norfolk. Look up at the clerestory; it seems impossible, there is so much glass, so little stone; and yet it rides the building with an air of permanence. Beneath, there is a coyness about the aisles that I prefer to the mathematics of Lavenham. Here, it could not have been done otherwise; it distils human architectural experience. If St Peter and St Paul at Lavenham is man talking to God, Holy Trinity at Blythburgh is God talking to man.
At the east end, a curious series of initials in Lombardic script stretch across the outer chancel wall. You can see an image of this at the top. It reads A-N-JS-B-S-T-M-S-A-H-K-R. This probably stands for Ad Nomina JesuS, Beati Sanctae Trinitas, Maria Sanctorem Anne Honorem Katherine Reconstructus ('In the name of the blessed Jesus, the Holy Trinity, and in honour of Holy Mary, Anne and Katherine, this was rebuilt'). A fanciful theory is that they are the initials of the wives of the donors. However, note the symbol of the Trinity in the T stone, and I think this is a clue to the whole piece.
Figures stand on pedestals atop the south side and east end. The most easterly is unusual, a crowned old man sitting on a throne directly on the gable end. This is a medieval image of God the Father, a rare survival. Moving westwards from here we find the Blessed Virgin in prayerful pose, Christ as the Saviour of the World holding an orb in one hand and blessing with the other, and then a collared bear with a ragged staff, a seated woodwose, another bear, this time with a collar and bell, and last of all a fox with a goose in its mouth, his jaws grasping the neck:
The porch is part of the late 15th century rebuilding, but it was considerably restored in the early 20th century. Interestingly, the angels crowning the battlements look medieval - but they weren't there in 1900, so must have come from somewhere else. Pretty much all the porch's features of interest date from this time. These include the small medieval font pressed into service as a holy water stoup, and image niche above the doors. This has been filled in more recent years by an image if the Holy Trinity; God the Father holds the Son suspended while a dove representing the Holy Spirit alights; you can see medieval versions of this at Framlingham and Little Glemham. Of all medieval imagery, this was the most frowned upon by puritans. An image of God the Father was thought the most suspicious of all idolatries. Indeed, as late as the 1870s, when the Reverend White edited the first popular edition of the Diary of William Dowsing, he actually congratulated Dowsing on destroying images of the Holy Trinity in the course of his 1644 progress through the counties of Suffolk and Cambridgeshire.
William Dowsing visited on the morning on April 9th, 1644. It was a Tuesday, and he had spent most of the week in the area. The previous day he'd been at Southwold and Walberswick to the east, but preceded his visit here with one to Blyford, which lies to the west, so he was probably staying overnight at the family home in Laxfield. He found twenty images in stained glass to take to task (a surprisingly small number, given the size of the place) and two hundred more that were inaccessible that morning (probably in the great east window). Three brass inscriptions incurred his wrath (but again, this is curious; there were many more) and he also ordered down the cross on the porch and the cross on the tower. Most significantly of all, he decided the angels in the roof should go.
Lots of Suffolk churches have angels in their roofs. None are like Blythburgh's. You step inside, and there they are, exactly as you've seen them in books and in photographs. They are awesome, breathtaking. There are twelve of them. Perhaps there were once twenty. How would you get them down if ordered to do so? The roof is so high, and the stencilling of IHS symbols would also have to go.
Perhaps this was already indistinct by the time Dowsing visited. Perhaps Tuesday, 9th of April 1644 was a dull day.
Several of the angels are peppered with lead shot. Here is another of those Suffolk legends; that Dowsing and the churchwardens fired muskets at the angels to try and bring them down. But when the angels were restored in the 1970s, the lead shot removed was found to be 18th century; contemporary with them there is a note in the churchwardens accounts that men were paid for shooting jackdaws living inside the building, so that probably explains where the shot came from. Here are some details of that wonderful roof:
The otherwise splendid church guide also repeats the error that the Holy Trinity symbol in the porch filled a gap that had been 'empty since 1644'. But there was certainly no image in it when Dowsing arrived here, or anywhere else in Suffolk; statues were completely outlawed by injunctions in the early years of the reign of Edward VI, almost a hundred years before the morning of Dowsing's visit.
Another feature used as evidence of puritan destruction is the ring fixed into the most westerly pillar of the north arcade. Cromwell's men stabled their horses here, apparently. Well, it almost certainly is a ring for tying horses to, and the broken bricks at the cleared west end also suggest this; but there is no reason to think that Cromwell and the puritans were responsible. For a full century before Cromwell, and for nearly two hundred years afterwards, a church as big as this would have had a multitude of uses. Holy Trinity was built for the rituals of the Catholic church; once these were no longer allowed, a village like Blythburgh, which can never have had more than 500 people, would have seen it as an asset in other ways. It was only with the 19th century sacramental revival brought about by the Oxford Movement that we started getting all holy again about our parish churches. Perhaps it was used as an overnight stables for passing travellers on the main road; not an un-Christian use for it to be put to, I think.
In August 1577, a great storm brought down the steeple, which fell into the church and damaged the font. This was at the height of Elizabethan superstition, and the devil was blamed; his hoof marks can still be seen on the church door. Supposedly, a black dog ran through the church, killing two parishioners; he was seen the same day at St Mary, Bungay. Black Shuck is the East Anglian devil dog, the feared hound of the marshes; and Holy Trinity is the self-styled Cathedral of the Marshes, so it is appropriate that he appeared here. You can see where the font has been broken. You can also see that this was one of the rare, beautiful seven sacrament fonts, similar in style to the one at Westhall; but, like those at neighbouring Wenhaston and Southwold, it has been completely stripped of imagery. Almost certainly, this was in the 1540s, but there is a story that the font at Wenhaston was chiselled clean as part of the 19th century restoration. More importantly in any case, the storm, or the dog, or the devil, damaged the roof; it would not be properly repaired for more than 400 years. Throughout the 17th and 18th centuries, accounts note that Holy Trinity is not impregnable to the weather. By the 19th century, parishioners attended divine service with umbrellas. By the 1880s, it was a positively dangerous building to be in, and the Bishop of Norwich ordered it closed.
Why had Holy Trinity not been restored? Simply, this is a big church, with a tiny village. There was no rich patron, and in any case the parishioners had a passion for Methodism. Probably, repairs had been mooted, but not a wholesale restoration as we have seen at Lavenham, Long Melford and Southwold. By the 1880s, attention in England had turned to the preservation of medieval detail; in short, restorations were not as ignorant as they had been a quarter of a century earlier. Suggestions that Holy Trinity should be restored in the manner of the other three were blocked by the Society for the Preservation of Ancient Buildings, and this owed a lot to the energy of William Morris, the Society's secretary.
The slow, patient restoration of this building took the best part of a century; indeed, when I first visited in the 1980s I was still aware of a sense of decay.
Nothing could be further from the truth today. You step into a wide, white, open space, one of England's great church interiors. There, high above you, is the glorious roof and the angels of God. The brick floors spread around the scraped font, which still bears its dedicatory inscription and standing places for participants. You turn into the central gangway, and more than twenty empty indents for brasses stretch before you. Dowsing can be blamed for the destruction of hardly any of them. In reality, you see the work of 18th and 19th century thieves and collectors.
The bench-ends are superb. The benches themselves were reconstructed in the late 19th century, supposedly from the main post of Westleton windmill, but the ends are some of the county's finest medieval images. There are partial sets of basically three series: the Seven Deadly Sins, the Seven Works of Mercy, and the Labours of the Seasons. There are also angels bearing symbols of the Holy Trinity and the Crown. There are other figures too, obscure and fragmentary and whose purpose is unclear, as if surviving figments of a broken dream. The quality of what remains makes you grieve for what has been lost.
The rood screen is a disappointment; most of it is modern, and the medieval bits perfunctory and scoured. Having said this, note how tiny the exit from the north aisle rood loft stair is. Also at this end of the church, a scattering of medieval glass, mainly angels. There is more in the south aisle, including a collection of shields of the Holy Trinity:
But step through the central aisle to see something remarkable. The priest and choir stalls are fronted by exquisite carvings of the Apostles, the Evangelists, John the Baptist, St Stephen, Mary Queen of Heaven and Christ in Majesty. Seeing these eighteen carvings is a bit like gobbling up a very large box of chocolates, but it is worth stopping to consider quite how genuine they all are. For a start, there could not have been choir stalls here in medieval times, and in any case we know that these desks and their frontages were in the north aisle chapel until the 19th century. They were used as school benches in the 17th century; they still bear holes for inkpots, and the graffiti of a bored Dutch child (his father was probably working on draining the marshes) is dated 1665. There is nothing at all like them anywhere else in Suffolk.
Whatever, the east end of the chancel and aisles are thrillingly modern, wholly devotional. In the north aisle, traditionally the Hopton chantry, extraordinary friezes of skeletons become symbols of the four evangelists behind the altar. Beside them is Peter Ball's beautiful Madonna and Child. Separating the south aisle chapel from the sanctuary is is one of Suffolk's biggest Easter sepulchres, tomb of the Hoptons. Behind the high altar, branches arranged like huge stag antlers spread dramatically. It is all just about perfect. Tucked to one side of the organ is a clockjack; Suffolk has two, and the other is down-river at Southwold. They date from the late 17th century, and presumably once struck the hours; at high church Blythburgh and Southwold today, they are used to announce the entry of the ministers.
This is a wonderful church to wander around in, the light and the air changing with the seasons, a suffused sense of the numinous presenting its different faces according to the time of day and time of year. Come here on a bright spring morning, or in the drowsy heat of a summer's day. Come on a cold winter afternoon as the colours fade and the smell of woodsmoke from neighbouring cottages weaves a spell above the old stone floors and woodwork. And before you leave, find the doorway in the south-west corner of the nave. It opens onto a low, narrow stairway. You can go up it. It leads up into the parvise storey of the south porch, now reappointed and dedicated as a tiny chapel, a peaceful spot to spend a few moments before continuing your journey.
You may be reading this entry in a far-off land; or perhaps you are here at home. Whatever, if you have not visited this church, then I urge you to do so. It is the most beautiful church in Suffolk, a wonderful art object, and it is always open in daylight. It remains one of the most significant medieval buildings in England. If you only visit one of Suffolk's churches, then make it this one
Simon Knott, 2014.
The Postcard
A postally unused postcard bearing no publisher's name.
The procession is turning in order to go past the Bunyan statue.
Note the three children who appear to be imitating the marchers in the procession.
Bedford
The River Great Ouse passes through the town centre, and is lined with gardens known as the Embankment. Within these gardens stands a war memorial to the men of the town killed in the Great War.
The memorial was designed in 1921 by the sculptor Charles Sargeant Jagger, and depicts a knight killing a dragon. The inscription reads:
'To Bedfordians who died, many
in early youth, some full of years
and honour, but who all alike gave
their lives for their country'.
Bedford is home to one of the largest concentrations of Italian immigrants in the UK. According to the 2001 census, almost 30% of Bedford's population were of at least partial Italian descent.
This is mainly due to labour recruitment in the early 1950's by the London Brick Company from Southern Italy. From 1954 to 2008 Bedford had its own Italian vice-consulate.
Charles Jagger
Charles Sargeant Jagger, the eldest son of Enoch Jagger, a colliery manager, was born in Kilnhurst, South Yorkshire on the 17th. December, 1885. Charles was the elder brother of David Jagger (1891 - 1958) who was an acclaimed portrait painter.
-- Charles Jagger - The Early Years
Charles left school aged fourteen to learn the craft of engraving on silver with the Sheffield firm of Mappin and Webb. He also studied at the Sheffield School of Art in the evenings.
In 1907 Charles won a scholarship to the Royal College of Art, South Kensington. After four years there as a student and assistant to Professor Edward Lantéri, a travelling bursary enabled him to study for some months in Rome and Venice.
-- Charles Jagger in the Great War
In 1914 he won the Rome scholarship in sculpture. However, on the outbreak of the First World War, he decided to to enlist in the Artists' Rifles instead.
In 1915 Jagger was awarded a commission in the 4th. Battalion of the Worcestershire Regiment, and was sent to Gallipoli.
Later he was transferred to the 2nd. Battalion of the Worcestershires who were entrenched on the Western Front in France.
In November 1915 Charles was shot through the shoulder and sent home to Great Britain. While recovering in England he married Violet Constance Smith.
Jagger returned to the front line, and in 1918 he was awarded the Military Cross for his actions at the Battle of Neuve Église during the German Spring Offensive.
During the battle he was severely injured by a gunshot through the chest, just two inches above his heart. He was also gassed, and once again he received medical treatment in England.
-- 'The First Battle of Ypres'
Instead of being sent back to France, Jagger was commissioned by the British War Memorials Committee to produce a large relief, entitled 'The First Battle of Ypres'.
After the Great War Jagger established a studio in South Kensington. His work was dominated by his experience in the trenches.
-- 'Tommy and Humanity'
Jagger's next major work was 'Tommy and Humanity'. According to Charles' biographer:
'The bold modelling of the Tommy, combined
with the energy and strength the figure
conveyed, was an outstanding achievement.
The expressiveness of this work was an
instant success at the Royal Academy, where
it was exhibited in 1921, and resulted in many
more commissions.'
-- 'No Man's Land'
In 1923 he produced the relief, 'No Man's Land'. After being cast in bronze it was presented to the Tate Gallery in 1923.
Jagger admitted that his art reflected the admiration he felt for the work of Alfred Gilbert and Auguste Rodin.
-- Criticism of Jagger's Work
His career rose to distinction in the 1920's, but the voice of modernism tended not treat him kindly. The critic Roger Fry wrote:
'Nothing approaches the commonness,
the effective, brutal, catch-penny vulgarity
of his work'
And yet, Jagger was not so far out-of-step with the other post-beaux-arts sculptors of his day. He preached the union of sculpture with architecture, and took as his standard the relief sculpture of ancient Assyria.
-- Further Work by Charles Jagger
Over the next seven years Jagger completed war memorials in Manchester (1921); Southsea (1921); Bedford (1921); Great Western Railway War Memorial (1922); Brimington (1922); London Royal Artillery Memorial (1921–5); Anglo-Belgian War Memorial (1922–3); Nieuwpoort (1926–8); Cambrai (1927–8); and Port Tawfiq (1927–8).
During this period Charles Jagger produced statues of the Duke of Windsor (1922), Lord Hardinge (1928) and Ernest Shackleton (1932).
Alfred Mond, the founder of Imperial Chemical Industries, commissioned four large stone figures symbolic of industries for the company headquarters in Millbank.
-- The Death of Charles Jagger
Charles Sargeant Jagger died of pneumonia at his home, 67 Albert Bridge Road, Battersea, on the 16th. November 1934.
Sir Mick Jagger
With an ususual name like Jagger, you would expect Mick to be involved somewhere down the line, and sure enough, he is -- Charles Jagger is Mick's great-granduncle, with Charles' brother David Jagger being Mick's great-grandfather.
Another of Sir Mick’s relatives is Joseph Hobson Jagger, a distant cousin, who was The man who broke the bank at Monte Carlo.
Joseph's job as a spindle-maker at a West Yorkshire mill gave him the idea that roulette wheels were sure to be biased if they spun on wooden spindles. He won so much that a casino had to close.
To read about Richard Jarecki (1931 - 2018), an American physician who also famously exploited the bias in roulette wheels, please search for the tag 46APN32
John Bunyan
John Bunyan was baptised on the 30th. November 1628. He was an English writer and Puritan preacher, best remembered as the author of the Christian allegory The Pilgrim's Progress. In addition to The Pilgrim's Progress, Bunyan wrote nearly sixty titles, many of them expanded sermons.
Bunyan came from the village of Elstow, near Bedford. At the age of 16 he joined the Parliamentary Army during the first stage of the English Civil War. After three years in the army he returned to Elstow and took up the trade of tinker, which he had learned from his father.
He became interested in religion after his marriage, attending first the parish church and then joining the Bedford Meeting, a nonconformist group in Bedford, and becoming a preacher.
After the restoration of the monarch, when the freedom of nonconformists was curtailed, Bunyan was arrested and spent the next twelve years in jail as he refused to give up preaching.
During this time he wrote a spiritual autobiography, Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners.
The Pilgrim's Progress
While in prison he also began work on his most famous book, The Pilgrim's Progress, which was not published until some years after his release.
The Pilgrim's Progress became one of the most published books in the English language; 1,300 editions having been printed by 1938, 250 years after the author's death.
John Bunyan - The Later Years
Bunyan's later years, in spite of another shorter term of imprisonment, were spent in relative comfort as a popular author and preacher, and pastor of the Bedford Meeting.
The Death of John Bunyan
John Bunyan died on the 31st. August 1688 aged 59 after falling ill on a journey to London, and is buried in Bunhill Fields.
Final Thoughts From john Bunyan
"You have not lived today until you have
done something for someone who can
never repay you."
"If my life is fruitless, it doesn't matter who
praises me, and if my life is fruitful, it doesn't
matter who criticizes me."
"No man, without trials and temptations,
can attain a true understanding of the
Holy Scriptures."
"Pray and read, read and pray; for a little from
God is better than a great deal from men."
"He who runs from God in the morning will
scarcely find Him the rest of the day."
"What God says is best, is best, though
all the men in the world are against it."
"The truths that I know best I have learned
on my knees. I never know a thing well, till
it is burned into my heart by prayer."
"The fear of God is the beginning of wisdom,
and they that lack the beginning have neither
middle nor end."
"Hope is never ill when faith is well."
"It is said that in some countries trees will grow,
but will bear no fruit because there is no winter
there."
"Christians are like the several flowers in a garden
that have each of them the dew of heaven, which,
being shaken with the wind, they let fall at each
other's roots, whereby they are jointly nourished,
and become nourishers of each other."
"It is possible to learn all about the mysteries of the
Bible and never be affected by it in one's soul. Great
knowledge is not enough."
"Afflictions make the heart more deep, more
experimental, more knowing and profound,
and so, more able to hold, to contain, and
beat more."
"You have chosen the roughest road,
but it leads straight to the hilltops."
"Whatever contradicts the Word of God
should be instantly resisted as diabolical."
"The spirit of prayer is more precious
than treasures of gold and silver."
"If we have not quiet in our minds, outward
comfort will do no more for us than a golden
slipper on a gouty foot."
"An idle man's brain is the devil's workshop."
"No child of God sins to that degree as
to make himself incapable of forgiveness."
"If you are not a praying person,
you are not a Christian."
"The best prayer I ever prayed had
enough sin to damn the whole world."
"Words easy to be understood do often
hit the mark, when high and learned ones
do only pierce the air."
"I will stay in prison till the moss grows
on my eye lids rather than disobey God."
"I come from the Town of Stupidity; it lieth
about four degrees beyond the City of
Destruction."
"And, indeed, this is one of the greatest
mysteries in the world; namely, that a
righteousness that resides in heaven
should justify me, a sinner on earth!"
"I will stay in jail to the end of my days
before I make a butchery of my conscience."
"There is no way to kill a man's
righteousness but by his own
consent."
"Temptations, when we meet them at first,
are as the lion that reared upon Samson;
but if we overcome them, the next time we
see them we shall find a nest of honey
within them."
"I preach deliverance to others, I tell them
there is freedom, while I hear my own chains
clang."
"Then I saw that there was a way to
hell, even from the gates of heaven."
"He who bestows his goods upon the
poor shall have as much again, and
ten times more."
"Therefore, I bind these lies and slanderous
accusations to my person as an ornament; it
belongs to my Christian profession to be vilified,
slandered, reproached and reviled, and since all
this is nothing but that, as God and my conscience
testify, I rejoice in being reproached for Christ's sake."
"Man indeed is the most noble, by creation,
of all the creatures in the visible World; but
by sin he has made himself the most ignoble."
There is a point in our lives when we, the children, become the adults in the relationship with our parents.
It will come for most of us, no one tells you this will happen, and you are unprepared for it. But it comes
And each of us has a different relationship with our parents than everyone else, what's right for me, and my views, do not apply to you.
Yesterday, was the funeral of the person I have known longer than anyone else on this earth, now that my family is all gone. Margaret and Brian were married a few weeks before mine, and moved into the new build bungalow also a few weeks before my parents.
They also had one child, a son, and Douglas and I have been friends longer than I have been friends with anyone else, although he is a year younger than me.
I have my views on Margaret, but the reason I travelled back to Suffolk for her funeral, was to be there for Douggie, and give him the support he has given me through three weddings and two funerals.
Norfolk isn't far away, and the funeral and wake were taking place just a mile or two over the border from Suffolk, but the roads beyond Ipswich are poor, twisty and where there are accidents or roadworks, no real alternative routes.
I was also leaving just before six, so had to get across the Thames at Dartford and up the A12 during rush hour, so it wouldn't be easy. But at least there would be no rain.
I was up at five, dressed and washed, with time to drink a coffee before leaving. Loading the car with me and my camera bag, as I had plans in case I had time, to visit a church or two.
It was dark up the M20 to Dartford, and busy with traffic, but I made good time, and listened to a loop of old music podcasts all day, so chat and music kept me awake.
I got onto the M25 with no problem, and through the tunnels with only a slight slowdown, but on the other side there were queues.
Despite not wanting to spend money on a new railway, there is always money for road and junction improvements, even if it will just increase traffic. So it is that the M25/A12 junction is being upgraded, and with narrow lanes, speed restrictions, jams began a good four miles before the roadworks started.
I forced my way to the left hand lane, which became a filter lane, meaning it was much quicker than the remaining four lanes. But then came the roundabout. The roundabout under the motorway is the reason the improvements are needed, and queueing traffic blocks the junctions and causes even more backlogs.
Of course, traffic lights on roundabouts are never good ideas, so I was confronted with a wall of traffic, so when the light went green, I went in front of a track before it could shuffle forward and block more of the junction, then there was some clear road.
And ducking into the extreme left hand lane, I dodged past the queuing traffic that was blocking the exit from the A12, and onto clear road.
Yay.
The sky was clear, the sun about to rise, and it was going to be a glorious day.
Just north of Chelmsford, I stopped for breakfast: two sausage rolls and a coffee from Greggs, then filled up the tank and on my way north.
More traffic at Ipswich where the A12 meets the A14 to get over the Orwell, but then clear traffic again after ten minutes delay.
Soon, though, the road narrows to two lane blacktop, and all is well until you meet a slower vehicle. Like a tractor as we did soon after Whickham Market.
For 15 long minutes the tractor lead a growing snake of cars along the winding lanes until it pulled over and we could get past.
Blythburgh was always the marker when travelling back from Ipswich or beyond, that we were nearly home. he handsome church sits high, for Suffolk, overlooking the village and river which is mostly mudflats.
The busy A12 skirts close, but you get to the church via a narrow land, leaving the modern world far behind.
The church opened at nine, it was nearly half past, it was probably open before nine, and was open when I pushed the porch door.
Inside is an unspoilt space, grey wood that have witnessed the centuries so that their vigour has faded to almost no colour of all.
Its the roof people come for. Wooden beams and pairs of wooden angels. I have brought my big lens so to snap them.
My plan was to visit the large and impressive church in Southwold. I turned off the A12 and drove along the straight road into the town, where I found multiple sets of roadworks, and few places to park for a short time, anywhere near the church.
My back is achy, so I wanted somewhere close to park. Anyway, I drove round the town twice, found nowhere to park, so turned the car round and headed back north, until I came to South Cove.
South Cove is a small village, a few farms really, but has a fine, if rustic, well-proportioned church, set in a large churchyard.
And the church was open, so small the wide angle lens wasn't needed, and with windows close to the floor too, no big lens needed either.
Next town up is Kessingland, which until the 80s had the A12 running through the centre of it, but now a bypass lays to the west and the village is quiet. I don't think I had been of the main street, so I went in search of the church, and found it on Church Street.
Obviously.
I rarely research churches before I visit, so nothing prepared me for the interior of St Edmund.
It seems in the last two years, they church had sourced some banners with apt slogans on, banners which were made to look like large tapered ensigns, hanging from or along the supports of the roof.
A man was practicing on the organ, and the notes echoed round the church. Not only does the church have banners, it has ship's wheels and other nautical stuff, although most traditionalists won't like it, I think it hangs together, and if the congregation wants it thus, who are we to argue?
Next stop was South Cove, which I had forgotten I had visited before, so redid all my shots. But this time did see the panel featuring St Michael behind the font, where the rood steps began.
A small, perfect, church, perfect for a small country parish.
I take my shots and leave, driving back onto the A12 and heading into Lowestoft, my main task was to drive over the new bridge which spans Lake Lothing.
The town had been waiting since at least 1966 for a new bridge, and the 3rd crossing was opened in September, and offers fine views as you drive across.
I went to see the old family home. It has been renovated and looks splendid, and not much like it was when sold four years back, it looks cared for and lived in, which is what the buyer promised us he would do.
So then to the crematorium, a drive north through Gunton and past Hopton where Dougie lives, then through the housing estate behind the area hospital to the car park, and then wait.
Margaret was 89, had a long life, but friends of the same age are few, and families are now scattered. So, one can never be sure how many will attend. The chapel was half full at least, with people coming from Kent, Wiltshire and even California to be there.
The celebrant spoke for twenty minutes, saying nice things as they have to do. But, avoiding, or just hinting at faults. Whatever she had done in her life to Dougie, he still loved her, and he was in bits.
Afterward we lined up to shake his hand or give him and Pennie a hug, and allowed me to tell him he was the brother I never had. He was always there for me, and will be there for him.
More tears.
There was a wake at the pub in Hopton, but there was no one I knew other than Dougie and Penny, so I had a drink and made my excuses. These things are really for family and close friends, so I left at quarter to three, hoping to get home before midnight.
In the end, I made good time, I was going round Ipswich before four, and at the M25 junction less than an hour later, and was able to easily join it and zoom round to the bridge. No queues on the southbound side, but the queue northbound went all the way back to the M20 junction, so six mines.
I zoomed on.
I got home at ten past six, happy to have done it and go home in under three and a half hours. Dinner was defrosted ragu, pasta and reheated focaccia, which we were sitting down to eat twenty minutes after getting in.
Phew.
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Perhaps some counties have a church which sums them up. If there has to be one for Suffolk, it must be the church of the Most Holy Trinity, Blythburgh. Here is the late medieval Suffolk imagination writ large, as large as it gets, and not overwritten by the Anglican triumphalism of the 19th century. Blythburgh church is often compared with its near neighbour, St Edmund at Southwold, but this isn't a fair comparison - Southwold church is much grander, and full of urban confidence. Probably a better comparison is with St Margaret, Lowestoft, for there, too, the Reformation intervened before the tower could be rebuilt. The two churches have a lot in common, but Blythburgh has the saving grace. It is so fascinating, so stunningly beautiful, by virtue of a factor that is rare in Anglican parish churches: sheer neglect.
Holy Trinity, Blythburgh, is the church that Suffolk people know and love best, and because of this it has generated some extraordinary legends. The first is that Blythburgh, now a tiny village bisected by the fearsome A12 between London and the east coast ports, was once a thriving medieval town. This idea is used to explain the size of the church; in reality, it is almost certainly not the case. Blythburgh has always been small. But it did have an important medieval priory, and thus its church attracted enough wealthy piety on the eve of the Reformation to bankroll a spectacular rebuilding.
It is to Lavenham, Long Melford, Mildenhall, Southwold and here that we come to see the late 15th century Suffolk aesthetic in perfection. But for my money, Holy Trinity, Blythburgh, is the most significant medieval art object in the county, ranking alongside Salle in Norfolk. Look up at the clerestory; it seems impossible, there is so much glass, so little stone; and yet it rides the building with an air of permanence. Beneath, there is a coyness about the aisles that I prefer to the mathematics of Lavenham. Here, it could not have been done otherwise; it distils human architectural experience. If St Peter and St Paul at Lavenham is man talking to God, Holy Trinity at Blythburgh is God talking to man.
At the east end, a curious series of initials in Lombardic script stretch across the outer chancel wall. You can see an image of this at the top. It reads A-N-JS-B-S-T-M-S-A-H-K-R. This probably stands for Ad Nomina JesuS, Beati Sanctae Trinitas, Maria Sanctorem Anne Honorem Katherine Reconstructus ('In the name of the blessed Jesus, the Holy Trinity, and in honour of Holy Mary, Anne and Katherine, this was rebuilt'). A fanciful theory is that they are the initials of the wives of the donors. However, note the symbol of the Trinity in the T stone, and I think this is a clue to the whole piece.
Figures stand on pedestals atop the south side and east end. The most easterly is unusual, a crowned old man sitting on a throne directly on the gable end. This is a medieval image of God the Father, a rare survival. Moving westwards from here we find the Blessed Virgin in prayerful pose, Christ as the Saviour of the World holding an orb in one hand and blessing with the other, and then a collared bear with a ragged staff, a seated woodwose, another bear, this time with a collar and bell, and last of all a fox with a goose in its mouth, his jaws grasping the neck:
The porch is part of the late 15th century rebuilding, but it was considerably restored in the early 20th century. Interestingly, the angels crowning the battlements look medieval - but they weren't there in 1900, so must have come from somewhere else. Pretty much all the porch's features of interest date from this time. These include the small medieval font pressed into service as a holy water stoup, and image niche above the doors. This has been filled in more recent years by an image if the Holy Trinity; God the Father holds the Son suspended while a dove representing the Holy Spirit alights; you can see medieval versions of this at Framlingham and Little Glemham. Of all medieval imagery, this was the most frowned upon by puritans. An image of God the Father was thought the most suspicious of all idolatries. Indeed, as late as the 1870s, when the Reverend White edited the first popular edition of the Diary of William Dowsing, he actually congratulated Dowsing on destroying images of the Holy Trinity in the course of his 1644 progress through the counties of Suffolk and Cambridgeshire.
William Dowsing visited on the morning on April 9th, 1644. It was a Tuesday, and he had spent most of the week in the area. The previous day he'd been at Southwold and Walberswick to the east, but preceded his visit here with one to Blyford, which lies to the west, so he was probably staying overnight at the family home in Laxfield. He found twenty images in stained glass to take to task (a surprisingly small number, given the size of the place) and two hundred more that were inaccessible that morning (probably in the great east window). Three brass inscriptions incurred his wrath (but again, this is curious; there were many more) and he also ordered down the cross on the porch and the cross on the tower. Most significantly of all, he decided the angels in the roof should go.
Lots of Suffolk churches have angels in their roofs. None are like Blythburgh's. You step inside, and there they are, exactly as you've seen them in books and in photographs. They are awesome, breathtaking. There are twelve of them. Perhaps there were once twenty. How would you get them down if ordered to do so? The roof is so high, and the stencilling of IHS symbols would also have to go.
Perhaps this was already indistinct by the time Dowsing visited. Perhaps Tuesday, 9th of April 1644 was a dull day.
Several of the angels are peppered with lead shot. Here is another of those Suffolk legends; that Dowsing and the churchwardens fired muskets at the angels to try and bring them down. But when the angels were restored in the 1970s, the lead shot removed was found to be 18th century; contemporary with them there is a note in the churchwardens accounts that men were paid for shooting jackdaws living inside the building, so that probably explains where the shot came from. Here are some details of that wonderful roof:
The otherwise splendid church guide also repeats the error that the Holy Trinity symbol in the porch filled a gap that had been 'empty since 1644'. But there was certainly no image in it when Dowsing arrived here, or anywhere else in Suffolk; statues were completely outlawed by injunctions in the early years of the reign of Edward VI, almost a hundred years before the morning of Dowsing's visit.
Another feature used as evidence of puritan destruction is the ring fixed into the most westerly pillar of the north arcade. Cromwell's men stabled their horses here, apparently. Well, it almost certainly is a ring for tying horses to, and the broken bricks at the cleared west end also suggest this; but there is no reason to think that Cromwell and the puritans were responsible. For a full century before Cromwell, and for nearly two hundred years afterwards, a church as big as this would have had a multitude of uses. Holy Trinity was built for the rituals of the Catholic church; once these were no longer allowed, a village like Blythburgh, which can never have had more than 500 people, would have seen it as an asset in other ways. It was only with the 19th century sacramental revival brought about by the Oxford Movement that we started getting all holy again about our parish churches. Perhaps it was used as an overnight stables for passing travellers on the main road; not an un-Christian use for it to be put to, I think.
In August 1577, a great storm brought down the steeple, which fell into the church and damaged the font. This was at the height of Elizabethan superstition, and the devil was blamed; his hoof marks can still be seen on the church door. Supposedly, a black dog ran through the church, killing two parishioners; he was seen the same day at St Mary, Bungay. Black Shuck is the East Anglian devil dog, the feared hound of the marshes; and Holy Trinity is the self-styled Cathedral of the Marshes, so it is appropriate that he appeared here. You can see where the font has been broken. You can also see that this was one of the rare, beautiful seven sacrament fonts, similar in style to the one at Westhall; but, like those at neighbouring Wenhaston and Southwold, it has been completely stripped of imagery. Almost certainly, this was in the 1540s, but there is a story that the font at Wenhaston was chiselled clean as part of the 19th century restoration. More importantly in any case, the storm, or the dog, or the devil, damaged the roof; it would not be properly repaired for more than 400 years. Throughout the 17th and 18th centuries, accounts note that Holy Trinity is not impregnable to the weather. By the 19th century, parishioners attended divine service with umbrellas. By the 1880s, it was a positively dangerous building to be in, and the Bishop of Norwich ordered it closed.
Why had Holy Trinity not been restored? Simply, this is a big church, with a tiny village. There was no rich patron, and in any case the parishioners had a passion for Methodism. Probably, repairs had been mooted, but not a wholesale restoration as we have seen at Lavenham, Long Melford and Southwold. By the 1880s, attention in England had turned to the preservation of medieval detail; in short, restorations were not as ignorant as they had been a quarter of a century earlier. Suggestions that Holy Trinity should be restored in the manner of the other three were blocked by the Society for the Preservation of Ancient Buildings, and this owed a lot to the energy of William Morris, the Society's secretary.
The slow, patient restoration of this building took the best part of a century; indeed, when I first visited in the 1980s I was still aware of a sense of decay.
Nothing could be further from the truth today. You step into a wide, white, open space, one of England's great church interiors. There, high above you, is the glorious roof and the angels of God. The brick floors spread around the scraped font, which still bears its dedicatory inscription and standing places for participants. You turn into the central gangway, and more than twenty empty indents for brasses stretch before you. Dowsing can be blamed for the destruction of hardly any of them. In reality, you see the work of 18th and 19th century thieves and collectors.
The bench-ends are superb. The benches themselves were reconstructed in the late 19th century, supposedly from the main post of Westleton windmill, but the ends are some of the county's finest medieval images. There are partial sets of basically three series: the Seven Deadly Sins, the Seven Works of Mercy, and the Labours of the Seasons. There are also angels bearing symbols of the Holy Trinity and the Crown. There are other figures too, obscure and fragmentary and whose purpose is unclear, as if surviving figments of a broken dream. The quality of what remains makes you grieve for what has been lost.
The rood screen is a disappointment; most of it is modern, and the medieval bits perfunctory and scoured. Having said this, note how tiny the exit from the north aisle rood loft stair is. Also at this end of the church, a scattering of medieval glass, mainly angels. There is more in the south aisle, including a collection of shields of the Holy Trinity:
But step through the central aisle to see something remarkable. The priest and choir stalls are fronted by exquisite carvings of the Apostles, the Evangelists, John the Baptist, St Stephen, Mary Queen of Heaven and Christ in Majesty. Seeing these eighteen carvings is a bit like gobbling up a very large box of chocolates, but it is worth stopping to consider quite how genuine they all are. For a start, there could not have been choir stalls here in medieval times, and in any case we know that these desks and their frontages were in the north aisle chapel until the 19th century. They were used as school benches in the 17th century; they still bear holes for inkpots, and the graffiti of a bored Dutch child (his father was probably working on draining the marshes) is dated 1665. There is nothing at all like them anywhere else in Suffolk.
Whatever, the east end of the chancel and aisles are thrillingly modern, wholly devotional. In the north aisle, traditionally the Hopton chantry, extraordinary friezes of skeletons become symbols of the four evangelists behind the altar. Beside them is Peter Ball's beautiful Madonna and Child. Separating the south aisle chapel from the sanctuary is is one of Suffolk's biggest Easter sepulchres, tomb of the Hoptons. Behind the high altar, branches arranged like huge stag antlers spread dramatically. It is all just about perfect. Tucked to one side of the organ is a clockjack; Suffolk has two, and the other is down-river at Southwold. They date from the late 17th century, and presumably once struck the hours; at high church Blythburgh and Southwold today, they are used to announce the entry of the ministers.
This is a wonderful church to wander around in, the light and the air changing with the seasons, a suffused sense of the numinous presenting its different faces according to the time of day and time of year. Come here on a bright spring morning, or in the drowsy heat of a summer's day. Come on a cold winter afternoon as the colours fade and the smell of woodsmoke from neighbouring cottages weaves a spell above the old stone floors and woodwork. And before you leave, find the doorway in the south-west corner of the nave. It opens onto a low, narrow stairway. You can go up it. It leads up into the parvise storey of the south porch, now reappointed and dedicated as a tiny chapel, a peaceful spot to spend a few moments before continuing your journey.
You may be reading this entry in a far-off land; or perhaps you are here at home. Whatever, if you have not visited this church, then I urge you to do so. It is the most beautiful church in Suffolk, a wonderful art object, and it is always open in daylight. It remains one of the most significant medieval buildings in England. If you only visit one of Suffolk's churches, then make it this one
Simon Knott, 2014.
All Saints, Gazeley, Suffolk.
There was never any doubt I would go to Rob's funeral. Rob was born just two weeks before me, and in our many meetings, we found we had so much in common.
A drive to Ipswich should be something like only two and a half hours, but with the Dartford Crossing that could balloon to four or more.
My choice was to leave early, soon after Jools left for work, or wait to near nine once rush hour was over. If I was up early, I'd leave early, I said.
Which is what happened.
So, after coffee and Jools leaving, I loaded my camera stuff in the car, not bothering to program in a destination, as I knew the route to Suffolk so well.
Checking the internet I found the M2 was closed, so that meant taking the M20, which I like as it runs beside HS2, although over the years, vegetation growth now hides most of it, and with Eurostar cutting services due to Brexit, you're lucky to see a train on the line now.
I had a phone loaded with podcasts, so time flew by, even if travelling through the endless roadworks at 50mph seemed to take forever.
Dartford was jammed. But we inched forward, until as the bridge came in sight, traffic moved smoothly, and I followed the traffic down into the east bore of the tunnel.
Another glorious morning for travel, the sun shone from a clear blue sky, even if traffic was heavy, but I had time, so not pressing on like I usually do, making the drive a pleasant one.
Up through Essex, where most other traffic turned off at Stanstead, then up to the A11 junction, with it being not yet nine, I had several hours to fill before the ceremony.
I stopped at Cambridge services for breakfast, then programmed the first church in: Gazeley, which is just in Suffolk on the border with Cambridgeshire.
I took the next junction off, took two further turnings brought be to the village, which is divided by one of the widest village streets I have ever seen.
It was five past nine: would the church be open?
I parked on the opposite side of the road, grabbed my bag and camera, limped over, passing a warden putting new notices in the parish notice board. We exchange good mornings, and I walk to the porch.
The inner door was unlocked, and the heavy door swung after turning the metal ring handle.
I had made a list of four churches from Simon's list of the top 60 Suffolk churches, picking those on or near my route to Ipswich and which piqued my interest.
Here, it was the reset mediaeval glass.
Needless to say, I had the church to myself, the centuries hanging heavy inside as sunlight flooded in filling the Chancel with warm golden light.
Windows had several devotional dials carved in the surrounding stone, and a huge and "stunningly beautiful piscina, and beside it are sedilia that end in an arm rest carved in the shape of a beast" which caught my eye.
A display in the Chancel was of the decoration of the wooden roof above where panels contained carved beasts, some actual and some mythical.
I photographed them all.
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All Saints is a large, remarkably good church in one of the sleepy, fat villages along the Cambridgeshire border, the sort of place you cycle through and imagine wistfully that you've won the lottery and could move there. The wide churchyard on both sides is a perfect setting for the church, which rises to heaven out of a perpendicular splendour of aisles, clerestories and battlements. The tower was complete by the 1470s when money was being left for a bell. The earlier chancel steadies the ship, anchoring it to earth quietly, although the tall east window has its spectacular moment too. And you step into a deliciously well-kept interior, full of interest.
One of the most significant medieval survivals here is not easily noticed. This is the range of 15th Century glass, which was reset by the Victorians high in the clerestory. This seems a curious thing to have done, since it defeats the purpose of a clerestory, but if they had not done so then we might have lost it. The glass matches the tracery in the north aisle windows, so that is probably where they came from. There are angels, three Saints and some shields, most of which are heraldic but two show the instruments of the passion and the Holy Trinity. I would not be surprised to learn that some of the shields are 19th century, but the figures are all original late 15th or early 16th century. The Saints are an unidentified Bishop, the hacksaw-wielding St Faith and one of my favourites, St Apollonia. She it was who was invoked by medieval people against toothache.
Waling from the nave up into the chancel, the space created by the clearing of clutter makes it at once mysterious and beautiful. Above, the early 16th century waggon roof is Suffolk's best of its kind. Mortlock points out the little angels bearing scrolls, the wheat ears and the vine sprays, and the surviving traces of colour. The low side window on the south side still has its hinges, for here it was that updraught to the rood would have sent the candles flickering in the mystical church of the 14th century. On the south side of the sanctuary is an exquisitely carved arched recess, that doesn't appear to have ever had a door, and may have been a very rare purpose-built Easter sepulchre at the time of the 1330s rebuilding. Opposite is a huge and stunningly beautiful piscina, and beside it are sedilia that end in an arm rest carved in the shape of a beast. It is one of the most significant Decorated moments in Suffolk.
On the floor of the chancel there is a tiny, perfect chalice brass, one of only two surviving in Suffolk. The other is at Rendham. Not far away is the indent of another chalice brass - or perhaps it was for the same one, and the brass has been moved for some reason. There are two chalice indents at Westhall, but nowhere else in Suffolk. Chalice brasses were popular memorials for Priests in the 15th and early 16th centuries, and thus were fair game for reformers. Heigham memorials of the late 16th century are on the walls. Back in the south aisle there is a splendid tombchest in Purbeck marble. It has lost its brasses, but the indents show us where they were, as do other indents in the aisle floors. Some heraldic brass shields survive, and show that Heighams were buried here. Brass inscriptions survive in the nave and the chancel, dating from the late 16th and early 17th centuries.
The 14th century font is a good example of the tracery pattern series that appeared in the decades before the Black Death. They may have been intended to spread ideas at that time of great artistic and intellectual flowering before it was so cruelly snatched away. The cover is 17th Century. At this end of the nave are two good ranges of medieval benches, one, rare in East Anglia, is a group of 14th Century benches with pierced tracery backs. Some of them appear to spell out words, and Mortlock thought one might say Salaman Sayet. The block of benches to the north appears to be 15th Century or possibly early 16th Century. Further north, the early 17th Century benches are simpler, even cruder, and were likely the work of the village carpenter.
All rather lovely then. And yet, it hasn't always been that way. All Saints at Gazeley, near Newmarket, was the first church that I visited after an international team of scientists conclusively proved that God did not exist began the first page for this church that I wrote in 2003, in a satirical mood after finding the church locked and at a very low ebb. At a time when congregations were generally falling, I'd been thinking about the future of medieval churches beyond a time when they would have people to use them in the traditional way. I wondered if the buildings might find new uses, or could adapt themselves to changing patterns and emphases in Christianity, or even changing spiritual needs of their parishes. Even if science could somehow prove that God did not exist, I suggested, there were parishes which would rise to the challenge and reinvent themselves, as churches have always done over the two millennia of Christianity. Coming to Gazeley I felt that here was a church which felt as if it had been abandoned. And yet, it seemed to me a church of such significance, such historical and spiritual importance, that its loss would be a disaster. If it had been clean, tidy and open at the time he was visiting, Simon Jenkins England's Thousand Best Churches would not have been able to resist it. Should the survival of such a treasure store depend upon the existence of God or the continued practice of the Christian faith? Or might there be other reasons to keep this extraordinary building in something like its present integrity?
In the first decade of the 21st Century, Gazeley church went on a tremendous journey, from being moribund to being the wonderful church you can visit today. If you want to read the slightly adapted 2006 entry for Gazeley, recounting this journey, you can do so here. Coming back here today always fills me with optimism for what can be achieved. On one occasion I mentioned my experiences of Gazeley church to a Catholic Priest friend of mine, and he said he hoped I knew I'd seen the power of the Holy Spirit at work. And perhaps that is so. Certainly, the energy and imagination of the people here have been fired by something. On that occasion I had wanted to find someone to ask about it, to find out how things stood now. But there was no one, and so the building spoke for them.
Back outside in the graveyard, the dog daisies clustered and waved their sun-kissed faces in the light breeze. The ancient building must have known many late-May days like this over the centuries, but think of all the changes that it has known inside! The general buffeting of the winds of history still leaves room for local squalls and lightning strikes. All Saints has known these, but for now a blessed calm reigns here. Long may it remain so.
Simon Knott, June 2019
There is a point in our lives when we, the children, become the adults in the relationship with our parents.
It will come for most of us, no one tells you this will happen, and you are unprepared for it. But it comes
And each of us has a different relationship with our parents than everyone else, what's right for me, and my views, do not apply to you.
Yesterday, was the funeral of the person I have known longer than anyone else on this earth, now that my family is all gone. Margaret and Brian were married a few weeks before mine, and moved into the new build bungalow also a few weeks before my parents.
They also had one child, a son, and Douglas and I have been friends longer than I have been friends with anyone else, although he is a year younger than me.
I have my views on Margaret, but the reason I travelled back to Suffolk for her funeral, was to be there for Douggie, and give him the support he has given me through three weddings and two funerals.
Norfolk isn't far away, and the funeral and wake were taking place just a mile or two over the border from Suffolk, but the roads beyond Ipswich are poor, twisty and where there are accidents or roadworks, no real alternative routes.
I was also leaving just before six, so had to get across the Thames at Dartford and up the A12 during rush hour, so it wouldn't be easy. But at least there would be no rain.
I was up at five, dressed and washed, with time to drink a coffee before leaving. Loading the car with me and my camera bag, as I had plans in case I had time, to visit a church or two.
It was dark up the M20 to Dartford, and busy with traffic, but I made good time, and listened to a loop of old music podcasts all day, so chat and music kept me awake.
I got onto the M25 with no problem, and through the tunnels with only a slight slowdown, but on the other side there were queues.
Despite not wanting to spend money on a new railway, there is always money for road and junction improvements, even if it will just increase traffic. So it is that the M25/A12 junction is being upgraded, and with narrow lanes, speed restrictions, jams began a good four miles before the roadworks started.
I forced my way to the left hand lane, which became a filter lane, meaning it was much quicker than the remaining four lanes. But then came the roundabout. The roundabout under the motorway is the reason the improvements are needed, and queueing traffic blocks the junctions and causes even more backlogs.
Of course, traffic lights on roundabouts are never good ideas, so I was confronted with a wall of traffic, so when the light went green, I went in front of a track before it could shuffle forward and block more of the junction, then there was some clear road.
And ducking into the extreme left hand lane, I dodged past the queuing traffic that was blocking the exit from the A12, and onto clear road.
Yay.
The sky was clear, the sun about to rise, and it was going to be a glorious day.
Just north of Chelmsford, I stopped for breakfast: two sausage rolls and a coffee from Greggs, then filled up the tank and on my way north.
More traffic at Ipswich where the A12 meets the A14 to get over the Orwell, but then clear traffic again after ten minutes delay.
Soon, though, the road narrows to two lane blacktop, and all is well until you meet a slower vehicle. Like a tractor as we did soon after Whickham Market.
For 15 long minutes the tractor lead a growing snake of cars along the winding lanes until it pulled over and we could get past.
Blythburgh was always the marker when travelling back from Ipswich or beyond, that we were nearly home. he handsome church sits high, for Suffolk, overlooking the village and river which is mostly mudflats.
The busy A12 skirts close, but you get to the church via a narrow land, leaving the modern world far behind.
The church opened at nine, it was nearly half past, it was probably open before nine, and was open when I pushed the porch door.
Inside is an unspoilt space, grey wood that have witnessed the centuries so that their vigour has faded to almost no colour of all.
Its the roof people come for. Wooden beams and pairs of wooden angels. I have brought my big lens so to snap them.
My plan was to visit the large and impressive church in Southwold. I turned off the A12 and drove along the straight road into the town, where I found multiple sets of roadworks, and few places to park for a short time, anywhere near the church.
My back is achy, so I wanted somewhere close to park. Anyway, I drove round the town twice, found nowhere to park, so turned the car round and headed back north, until I came to South Cove.
South Cove is a small village, a few farms really, but has a fine, if rustic, well-proportioned church, set in a large churchyard.
And the church was open, so small the wide angle lens wasn't needed, and with windows close to the floor too, no big lens needed either.
Next town up is Kessingland, which until the 80s had the A12 running through the centre of it, but now a bypass lays to the west and the village is quiet. I don't think I had been of the main street, so I went in search of the church, and found it on Church Street.
Obviously.
I rarely research churches before I visit, so nothing prepared me for the interior of St Edmund.
It seems in the last two years, they church had sourced some banners with apt slogans on, banners which were made to look like large tapered ensigns, hanging from or along the supports of the roof.
A man was practicing on the organ, and the notes echoed round the church. Not only does the church have banners, it has ship's wheels and other nautical stuff, although most traditionalists won't like it, I think it hangs together, and if the congregation wants it thus, who are we to argue?
Next stop was South Cove, which I had forgotten I had visited before, so redid all my shots. But this time did see the panel featuring St Michael behind the font, where the rood steps began.
A small, perfect, church, perfect for a small country parish.
I take my shots and leave, driving back onto the A12 and heading into Lowestoft, my main task was to drive over the new bridge which spans Lake Lothing.
The town had been waiting since at least 1966 for a new bridge, and the 3rd crossing was opened in September, and offers fine views as you drive across.
I went to see the old family home. It has been renovated and looks splendid, and not much like it was when sold four years back, it looks cared for and lived in, which is what the buyer promised us he would do.
So then to the crematorium, a drive north through Gunton and past Hopton where Dougie lives, then through the housing estate behind the area hospital to the car park, and then wait.
Margaret was 89, had a long life, but friends of the same age are few, and families are now scattered. So, one can never be sure how many will attend. The chapel was half full at least, with people coming from Kent, Wiltshire and even California to be there.
The celebrant spoke for twenty minutes, saying nice things as they have to do. But, avoiding, or just hinting at faults. Whatever she had done in her life to Dougie, he still loved her, and he was in bits.
Afterward we lined up to shake his hand or give him and Pennie a hug, and allowed me to tell him he was the brother I never had. He was always there for me, and will be there for him.
More tears.
There was a wake at the pub in Hopton, but there was no one I knew other than Dougie and Penny, so I had a drink and made my excuses. These things are really for family and close friends, so I left at quarter to three, hoping to get home before midnight.
In the end, I made good time, I was going round Ipswich before four, and at the M25 junction less than an hour later, and was able to easily join it and zoom round to the bridge. No queues on the southbound side, but the queue northbound went all the way back to the M20 junction, so six mines.
I zoomed on.
I got home at ten past six, happy to have done it and go home in under three and a half hours. Dinner was defrosted ragu, pasta and reheated focaccia, which we were sitting down to eat twenty minutes after getting in.
Phew.
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Perhaps some counties have a church which sums them up. If there has to be one for Suffolk, it must be the church of the Most Holy Trinity, Blythburgh. Here is the late medieval Suffolk imagination writ large, as large as it gets, and not overwritten by the Anglican triumphalism of the 19th century. Blythburgh church is often compared with its near neighbour, St Edmund at Southwold, but this isn't a fair comparison - Southwold church is much grander, and full of urban confidence. Probably a better comparison is with St Margaret, Lowestoft, for there, too, the Reformation intervened before the tower could be rebuilt. The two churches have a lot in common, but Blythburgh has the saving grace. It is so fascinating, so stunningly beautiful, by virtue of a factor that is rare in Anglican parish churches: sheer neglect.
Holy Trinity, Blythburgh, is the church that Suffolk people know and love best, and because of this it has generated some extraordinary legends. The first is that Blythburgh, now a tiny village bisected by the fearsome A12 between London and the east coast ports, was once a thriving medieval town. This idea is used to explain the size of the church; in reality, it is almost certainly not the case. Blythburgh has always been small. But it did have an important medieval priory, and thus its church attracted enough wealthy piety on the eve of the Reformation to bankroll a spectacular rebuilding.
It is to Lavenham, Long Melford, Mildenhall, Southwold and here that we come to see the late 15th century Suffolk aesthetic in perfection. But for my money, Holy Trinity, Blythburgh, is the most significant medieval art object in the county, ranking alongside Salle in Norfolk. Look up at the clerestory; it seems impossible, there is so much glass, so little stone; and yet it rides the building with an air of permanence. Beneath, there is a coyness about the aisles that I prefer to the mathematics of Lavenham. Here, it could not have been done otherwise; it distils human architectural experience. If St Peter and St Paul at Lavenham is man talking to God, Holy Trinity at Blythburgh is God talking to man.
At the east end, a curious series of initials in Lombardic script stretch across the outer chancel wall. You can see an image of this at the top. It reads A-N-JS-B-S-T-M-S-A-H-K-R. This probably stands for Ad Nomina JesuS, Beati Sanctae Trinitas, Maria Sanctorem Anne Honorem Katherine Reconstructus ('In the name of the blessed Jesus, the Holy Trinity, and in honour of Holy Mary, Anne and Katherine, this was rebuilt'). A fanciful theory is that they are the initials of the wives of the donors. However, note the symbol of the Trinity in the T stone, and I think this is a clue to the whole piece.
Figures stand on pedestals atop the south side and east end. The most easterly is unusual, a crowned old man sitting on a throne directly on the gable end. This is a medieval image of God the Father, a rare survival. Moving westwards from here we find the Blessed Virgin in prayerful pose, Christ as the Saviour of the World holding an orb in one hand and blessing with the other, and then a collared bear with a ragged staff, a seated woodwose, another bear, this time with a collar and bell, and last of all a fox with a goose in its mouth, his jaws grasping the neck:
The porch is part of the late 15th century rebuilding, but it was considerably restored in the early 20th century. Interestingly, the angels crowning the battlements look medieval - but they weren't there in 1900, so must have come from somewhere else. Pretty much all the porch's features of interest date from this time. These include the small medieval font pressed into service as a holy water stoup, and image niche above the doors. This has been filled in more recent years by an image if the Holy Trinity; God the Father holds the Son suspended while a dove representing the Holy Spirit alights; you can see medieval versions of this at Framlingham and Little Glemham. Of all medieval imagery, this was the most frowned upon by puritans. An image of God the Father was thought the most suspicious of all idolatries. Indeed, as late as the 1870s, when the Reverend White edited the first popular edition of the Diary of William Dowsing, he actually congratulated Dowsing on destroying images of the Holy Trinity in the course of his 1644 progress through the counties of Suffolk and Cambridgeshire.
William Dowsing visited on the morning on April 9th, 1644. It was a Tuesday, and he had spent most of the week in the area. The previous day he'd been at Southwold and Walberswick to the east, but preceded his visit here with one to Blyford, which lies to the west, so he was probably staying overnight at the family home in Laxfield. He found twenty images in stained glass to take to task (a surprisingly small number, given the size of the place) and two hundred more that were inaccessible that morning (probably in the great east window). Three brass inscriptions incurred his wrath (but again, this is curious; there were many more) and he also ordered down the cross on the porch and the cross on the tower. Most significantly of all, he decided the angels in the roof should go.
Lots of Suffolk churches have angels in their roofs. None are like Blythburgh's. You step inside, and there they are, exactly as you've seen them in books and in photographs. They are awesome, breathtaking. There are twelve of them. Perhaps there were once twenty. How would you get them down if ordered to do so? The roof is so high, and the stencilling of IHS symbols would also have to go.
Perhaps this was already indistinct by the time Dowsing visited. Perhaps Tuesday, 9th of April 1644 was a dull day.
Several of the angels are peppered with lead shot. Here is another of those Suffolk legends; that Dowsing and the churchwardens fired muskets at the angels to try and bring them down. But when the angels were restored in the 1970s, the lead shot removed was found to be 18th century; contemporary with them there is a note in the churchwardens accounts that men were paid for shooting jackdaws living inside the building, so that probably explains where the shot came from. Here are some details of that wonderful roof:
The otherwise splendid church guide also repeats the error that the Holy Trinity symbol in the porch filled a gap that had been 'empty since 1644'. But there was certainly no image in it when Dowsing arrived here, or anywhere else in Suffolk; statues were completely outlawed by injunctions in the early years of the reign of Edward VI, almost a hundred years before the morning of Dowsing's visit.
Another feature used as evidence of puritan destruction is the ring fixed into the most westerly pillar of the north arcade. Cromwell's men stabled their horses here, apparently. Well, it almost certainly is a ring for tying horses to, and the broken bricks at the cleared west end also suggest this; but there is no reason to think that Cromwell and the puritans were responsible. For a full century before Cromwell, and for nearly two hundred years afterwards, a church as big as this would have had a multitude of uses. Holy Trinity was built for the rituals of the Catholic church; once these were no longer allowed, a village like Blythburgh, which can never have had more than 500 people, would have seen it as an asset in other ways. It was only with the 19th century sacramental revival brought about by the Oxford Movement that we started getting all holy again about our parish churches. Perhaps it was used as an overnight stables for passing travellers on the main road; not an un-Christian use for it to be put to, I think.
In August 1577, a great storm brought down the steeple, which fell into the church and damaged the font. This was at the height of Elizabethan superstition, and the devil was blamed; his hoof marks can still be seen on the church door. Supposedly, a black dog ran through the church, killing two parishioners; he was seen the same day at St Mary, Bungay. Black Shuck is the East Anglian devil dog, the feared hound of the marshes; and Holy Trinity is the self-styled Cathedral of the Marshes, so it is appropriate that he appeared here. You can see where the font has been broken. You can also see that this was one of the rare, beautiful seven sacrament fonts, similar in style to the one at Westhall; but, like those at neighbouring Wenhaston and Southwold, it has been completely stripped of imagery. Almost certainly, this was in the 1540s, but there is a story that the font at Wenhaston was chiselled clean as part of the 19th century restoration. More importantly in any case, the storm, or the dog, or the devil, damaged the roof; it would not be properly repaired for more than 400 years. Throughout the 17th and 18th centuries, accounts note that Holy Trinity is not impregnable to the weather. By the 19th century, parishioners attended divine service with umbrellas. By the 1880s, it was a positively dangerous building to be in, and the Bishop of Norwich ordered it closed.
Why had Holy Trinity not been restored? Simply, this is a big church, with a tiny village. There was no rich patron, and in any case the parishioners had a passion for Methodism. Probably, repairs had been mooted, but not a wholesale restoration as we have seen at Lavenham, Long Melford and Southwold. By the 1880s, attention in England had turned to the preservation of medieval detail; in short, restorations were not as ignorant as they had been a quarter of a century earlier. Suggestions that Holy Trinity should be restored in the manner of the other three were blocked by the Society for the Preservation of Ancient Buildings, and this owed a lot to the energy of William Morris, the Society's secretary.
The slow, patient restoration of this building took the best part of a century; indeed, when I first visited in the 1980s I was still aware of a sense of decay.
Nothing could be further from the truth today. You step into a wide, white, open space, one of England's great church interiors. There, high above you, is the glorious roof and the angels of God. The brick floors spread around the scraped font, which still bears its dedicatory inscription and standing places for participants. You turn into the central gangway, and more than twenty empty indents for brasses stretch before you. Dowsing can be blamed for the destruction of hardly any of them. In reality, you see the work of 18th and 19th century thieves and collectors.
The bench-ends are superb. The benches themselves were reconstructed in the late 19th century, supposedly from the main post of Westleton windmill, but the ends are some of the county's finest medieval images. There are partial sets of basically three series: the Seven Deadly Sins, the Seven Works of Mercy, and the Labours of the Seasons. There are also angels bearing symbols of the Holy Trinity and the Crown. There are other figures too, obscure and fragmentary and whose purpose is unclear, as if surviving figments of a broken dream. The quality of what remains makes you grieve for what has been lost.
The rood screen is a disappointment; most of it is modern, and the medieval bits perfunctory and scoured. Having said this, note how tiny the exit from the north aisle rood loft stair is. Also at this end of the church, a scattering of medieval glass, mainly angels. There is more in the south aisle, including a collection of shields of the Holy Trinity:
But step through the central aisle to see something remarkable. The priest and choir stalls are fronted by exquisite carvings of the Apostles, the Evangelists, John the Baptist, St Stephen, Mary Queen of Heaven and Christ in Majesty. Seeing these eighteen carvings is a bit like gobbling up a very large box of chocolates, but it is worth stopping to consider quite how genuine they all are. For a start, there could not have been choir stalls here in medieval times, and in any case we know that these desks and their frontages were in the north aisle chapel until the 19th century. They were used as school benches in the 17th century; they still bear holes for inkpots, and the graffiti of a bored Dutch child (his father was probably working on draining the marshes) is dated 1665. There is nothing at all like them anywhere else in Suffolk.
Whatever, the east end of the chancel and aisles are thrillingly modern, wholly devotional. In the north aisle, traditionally the Hopton chantry, extraordinary friezes of skeletons become symbols of the four evangelists behind the altar. Beside them is Peter Ball's beautiful Madonna and Child. Separating the south aisle chapel from the sanctuary is is one of Suffolk's biggest Easter sepulchres, tomb of the Hoptons. Behind the high altar, branches arranged like huge stag antlers spread dramatically. It is all just about perfect. Tucked to one side of the organ is a clockjack; Suffolk has two, and the other is down-river at Southwold. They date from the late 17th century, and presumably once struck the hours; at high church Blythburgh and Southwold today, they are used to announce the entry of the ministers.
This is a wonderful church to wander around in, the light and the air changing with the seasons, a suffused sense of the numinous presenting its different faces according to the time of day and time of year. Come here on a bright spring morning, or in the drowsy heat of a summer's day. Come on a cold winter afternoon as the colours fade and the smell of woodsmoke from neighbouring cottages weaves a spell above the old stone floors and woodwork. And before you leave, find the doorway in the south-west corner of the nave. It opens onto a low, narrow stairway. You can go up it. It leads up into the parvise storey of the south porch, now reappointed and dedicated as a tiny chapel, a peaceful spot to spend a few moments before continuing your journey.
You may be reading this entry in a far-off land; or perhaps you are here at home. Whatever, if you have not visited this church, then I urge you to do so. It is the most beautiful church in Suffolk, a wonderful art object, and it is always open in daylight. It remains one of the most significant medieval buildings in England. If you only visit one of Suffolk's churches, then make it this one
Simon Knott, 2014.
“God is the Beginning and the End.” Only God Himself can usher in a new age and conclude the old age. Since the Lord Jesus opened up the Age of Grace and brought the Age of Law to an end, it has been two thousand years. During which, man has been living in the Lord’s grace and enjoying His love and mercy. In the last days, Almighty God has arrived. He has ended the Age of Grace and brought forth the Age of Kingdom; He has raised the curtains on the judgment before the great white throne, and thereafter mankind enters into a new era. Almighty God has descended with judgment. In His majestic judgment, all evil forces and the impure old world fall under God’s wrath and come to nothing, while those who long for the light and thirst after the truth will be granted purification and salvation in God’s judgment. The whole of the world is perfectly renewed! Almighty God accomplishes His six-thousand-year management plan. What a heartening moment! All peoples are singing joyfully for the accomplishment of God’s work, in praise of the only true God.
Spirit Taurus:
Before diving into our detailed study of “language” and the Holy Ghost baptism, first, it would be enough to cover other important things about the Holy Spirit. For starters, who or what is the Holy Spirit?
The Holy Spirit is not a “thing” or “it”. The Holy Spirit is a “person”. The Holy Spirit is called the personal pronouns in the New Testament several times. Many scriptures refer to the Holy Spirit “there”, “he”, “his” or “himself” (John 14: 16-17; John 14:26; John 15:26; John 16: 7-8; John 16: 13 -14; Romans 8: 26-27; 1 Cor 24:11). Other texts refer to the Holy Spirit as “I” or “Me” (Acts 10: 19-20; Acts 13: 2; Apocalypse 2: 7; Apocalypse 2:17). The Holy Spirit is given the attributes of the “person” in the Bible. Many documents disclose that the Holy Spirit “speaks” and said that the Spirit “tells” or “tells” (Acts 10: 19-20; Acts 13: 2; Apocalypse 2: 7, 11, 17 and 29; 3 Apocalypse : 6, 13 and 22). Romans 8: 26-27 says that the Holy Spirit “ora” and a “ghost”. 1 Corinthians 00:11 shows that the mind has a “will”. In Ephesians 4:30, we learn that the Holy Spirit are “grieved”. Furthermore, Acts 5: 3-4 says that the Holy Spirit, “log” are. And 1 John 5: 6 tells us that the mind can “testify.”
According to the Bible, the Holy Spirit is not just one person; It is a “divine” person. Several New Testament passages show that the Holy Spirit is God. Scripture states that the Holy Spirit is “blasphemed” and only God can be blasphemed (Matthew 12: 31-32; Mark 3:29; Luke 12:10). is listed 18-20 tells us that not only baptized in the name of the Father and of the Son, but also on behalf of the Holy Spirit, and only the “divine” nature in this “Great Commission” of Jesus to his disciples in Matthew 28 Passage. The Bible says that Jesus, the divine Son of God, was “designed”, the Holy Spirit, and that he, the “child” of the Holy Spirit (Matthew 1: 18-20) was. If Jesus is the Son of God, and he is the “child” of the Holy Spirit, the Holy Spirit must be God. In a similar manner, in Luke 01:35, reveal the Scripture that the Holy Spirit “came upon” Mary, to produce “saints”, the Son of God, Jesus Christ. And in Acts 5: 3-4, we are told that when Ananias took the Holy Spirit, he lied to “God”.
At this point, before the baptism of the Holy Spirit and “languages” to discuss the matter, it would be appropriate to mention a few important things. The Bible is clear that there are three members of the Trinity: God the Father, God the Son (Jesus Christ) and Holy Spirit. The Christian God is a “God” will manifest itself in three separate divine beings. Several writings refer to God through the “plural”, “we” or “our”, pronouns such as Genesis 1:26, Genesis 3:22 ET Genesis 11: 7 and more headings to the three members of the Trinity point the same way, as Matthew 28:19, Luke 03:22, John 14: 16-17, John 15:26 and 2 Corinthians 1:14 pm .. Further, in John 8: 17-18, Jesus refers to the father and himself as two distinct and separate controls. Further, in John 1: 1-2, the Bible says that Jesus was “with” God but that Jesus himself was God; it would require a “plural” God.
The baptism of the Holy Spirit is one of many “work” by the Spirit. Other important works of the Holy Spirit are mentioned in this paragraph. He is our Comforter, assistant or advisor (John 14: 16-17). He teaches us and brings things Jesus said again to our remembrance (John 14:26). He testifies of Jesus (Jn 15:26). He convicts of sin, righteousness and judgment (John 16: 7-11). He leads us to the truth and tells of “things to come” (John 16:13). It glorifies Jesus (John 04:14). He “lives” in us (Eph 2: 19-22; John 14: 16-17). It “seals” us, which is the deposit, serious or guarantee of our inheritance (Ephesians 1: 13-14; 2 Cor 1:22). the “fruit” of the Spirit in our lives, love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control (Galatians 5: 22-23) occurs. And he gives us the “gifts of the Spirit” are: the word of wisdom, word of knowledge, faith, gifts of healing, working of miracles, prophecy, discerning of spirits, tongues, interpretation of tongues, apostle, teacher “Help”, administrations , evangelists, pastors, ministry, exhortation or encouragement, generosity .
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Hear the Good News of God's Kingdom. A Kingdom not from this world. All you nations pay attention to what is being said before the season of God's wrath is well over due. Present time prophetically known as the End of Days. These days are recorded in the ancient book of the bible. They are a short period of time. Once this period of time ends, the way of the system of things as we know it ends. Ruler of the world, Satan the Devil named Beelzebub, gathers all his belongings to wrath in opposition to God & the Only Begotten Son of the Most high. Beelzebub hates the One calling Himself Love. Rebellion was in him from the start; no truth ever existed in this first spirit-son an angel who turned away from obedience to his Creator in heaven. He allowed himself to fall away from God's grace by ignoring God's authority. This angel made himself into a demon. Satan denies the position of the Only Begotten Son. Jesus' position is God's Master Worker in heaven & first born angel son before all other creation. God created Christ Jesus first in his prehuman form. Jesus' name in heaven is Michael. Jesus was brought to life even before Abraham. What does the bible really teach? It brings God's message to all listening that we all have the time to prepare for the real life. Christ already conquered the world when he died once in the flesh as a human man. Christ unlike us was perfect in mind, body, heart and soul. The soul is the body says the bible. And the soul which goes on sinning is the soul that will die says God. This shows us that the soul is mortal. God's first born angel was even before the earth was formed. God's active spirit (the holy spirit being God's personal power) transformed the life-form of his son in heaven and planted it into the womb of the young virgin named Mary. Mary's womb acted like a cradle for the Most high's Son. Mary lived in full accordance to the laws of the true God. She obeyed her God and like Jesus says found His requirements to be refreshing. Her obedience was recognized by the Universal Creator for this reason God called Mary His delight. The Jewess virgin worship God in spirit and in truth. God is a spirit. God teaches the ones loving Him to learn His will that they may then chose to obey the Creator of heaven & earth. The Creator is the One calling Himself Love. Ask yourself: Would the One who Created us, know what was best for the human race on earth? The people taking in God's counsel are the humans benefiting by Love's loving requirements. Since the creation of God's first born, Jesus' conduct has been spotless. He mirrors His father God the Almighty when he was in heaven just as on earth. Christ also worships his Father as his God. His Father gave him life. Christ had not existed until GOD created him to be the first of all creation as the first born angel; a spirit Son. First born gave Jesus a Privilege to the singular title Ark angel.
Michael in heaven is a great warrior King. On earth he was given the name Jesus. Gabriel an obedient holy Angel belonging to God said that the child was to be called Jesus, he was Son of the Most high. Jesus came to earth so that the scriptures could not be nullified. He came to earth as God's Spokesperson & acted as head Shepherd for God's flock; his title being Messiah. It has been written all persons taking faith in God's Son would be saved and have everlasting life. That's some-kind of wonderful. God is savior to His people through His Only Begotten Son which God has crowned King of His people. We are saved by our faith in the resurrected Christ who remained obedient to His Father even till death in his perfect flesh.
Adam, the first living soul on earth brought sin into the world. Death followed because the wages of sin is death until the spilled blood of God's sacrificial lamb cleansed the repentant people on earth. Only if one takes faith in the true Son of God will they be given a clean slate from the irritant inherited sin onto all of mankind. Adam by willingness to disregard his Creator's divine requirement of him not to eat from one fruit tree in the Garden of Eden predisposing his own off-springs to extreme measures of suffering & torment. Eve was thoroughly seduced by Satan but Adam was not he chose to do his wife's will over first doing the very Will of his own Father in heaven. All persons under the true God's Kingdom are the humans choosing to walk the Narrow Path leading to everlasting life. Life for the people with the earthly hope will spend eternity on planet earth by Love's guiding hand. The Shepherd King is a mighty warrior he is Shiloh (the resurrected Christ) granted by God's law legal access of the thrones scepter belonging to His Father God. Amen. Till the End of time, I will forever love you Soul-mate of my heart. Your Lily-Dove, Kiara
The first of a four day weekend, and I decided to go back to Canterbury to photograph the windows in the Chapter House and the newly revealed windows in the west end of the Nave of the Cathedral.
I don't usually worry about the weather, but it seemed grim for the day, so did take a coat.
And didn't lose it.
Jools dropped my off at Priory Station just before half seven, giving me time to get a ticket and climb the bridge over to platform 3 where the train left at quarter to.
It trundled through the tunnels and cuttings to Buckland, then after the junction, I got a glimpse in dawn's soft light of our old back garden on Crabble Hill, before out of control vegetation took the view away.
Kids got on the train at every stop, all going to Canterbury, they were quiet and well behaved. While I looked out of the window, at what little evidence remains of the mining industry in the county. Only the fenced off sidings at Snowdon really remain, and they are overgrown with trees now, hiding the rails in deep shadows.
It wasn't raining when we arrived at Canterbury East, so I walked to the centre, stopping off for breakfast at the Saffron Café for a fry up.
Then a three minute walk to the High Street and the view along Mercery Lane to Christchurch Gate and the Cathedral beyond.
I had timed it well, with just a couple of minutes waiting at the Buttermarket, the doors were opened, I showed my ticket from my visit last month (valid for a year), and entered.
I made straight for the crypt, as I wanted to get shots there. Just a few. There are signs saying its for private prayer and no photos or videos to be taken, but I was the only one there, and the shot I wanted, came out as a double exposure, but I include it here as I won't try again.
Odd to be in such a large space in such a famous building, and have it to yourself. I was down in the crypt for ten minutes, and no one else came down.
Then to my main targets, out to the Cloisters and then along to the Chapterhouse to take shots of both huge windows, and shots of each panels, and finally out to the Nave of the Cathedral to take shots of the newly revealed windows at the west end.
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History of the cathedral
THE ORIGIN of a Christian church on the scite of the present cathedral, is supposed to have taken place as early as the Roman empire in Britain, for the use of the antient faithful and believing soldiers of their garrison here; and that Augustine found such a one standing here, adjoining to king Ethelbert's palace, which was included in the king's gift to him.
This supposition is founded on the records of the priory of Christ-church, (fn. 1) concurring with the common opinion of almost all our historians, who tell us of a church in Canterbury, which Augustine found standing in the east part of the city, which he had of king Ethelbert's gift, which after his consecration at Arles, in France, he commended by special dedication to the patronage of our blessed Saviour. (fn. 2)
According to others, the foundations only of an old church formerly built by the believing Romans, were left here, on which Augustine erected that, which he afterwards dedicated to out Saviour; (fn. 3) and indeed it is not probable that king Ethelbert should have suffered the unsightly ruins of a Christian church, which, being a Pagan, must have been very obnoxious to him, so close to his palace, and supposing these ruins had been here, would he not have suffered them to be repaired, rather than have obliged his Christian queen to travel daily to such a distance as St. Martin's church, or St. Pancrace's chapel, for the performance of her devotions.
Some indeed have conjectured that the church found by St. Augustine, in the east part of the city, was that of St.Martin, truly so situated; and urge in favor of it, that there have not been at any time any remains of British or Roman bricks discovered scattered in or about this church of our Saviour, those infallible, as Mr. Somner stiles them, signs of antiquity, and so generally found in buildings, which have been erected on, or close to the spot where more antient ones have stood. But to proceed, king Ethelbert's donation to Augustine was made in the year 596, who immediately afterwards went over to France, and was consecrated a bishop at Arles, and after his return, as soon as he had sufficiently finished a church here, whether built out of ruins or anew, it matters not, he exercised his episcopal function in the dedication of it, says the register of Christ-church, to the honor of Christ our Saviour; whence it afterwards obtained the name of Christ-church. (fn. 4)
From the time of Augustine for the space of upwards of three hundred years, there is not found in any printed or manuscript chronicle, the least mention of the fabric of this church, so that it is probable nothing befell it worthy of being recorded; however it should be mentioned, that during that period the revenues of it were much increased, for in the leiger books of it there are registered more than fifty donations of manors, lands, &c. so large and bountiful, as became the munificence of kings and nobles to confer. (fn. 5)
It is supposed, especially as we find no mention made of any thing to the contrary, that the fabric of this church for two hundred years after Augustine's time, met with no considerable molestations; but afterwards, the frequent invasions of the Danes involved both the civil and ecclesiastical state of this country in continual troubles and dangers; in the confusion of which, this church appears to have run into a state of decay; for when Odo was promoted to the archbishopric, in the year 938, the roof of it was in a ruinous condition; age had impaired it, and neglect had made it extremely dangerous; the walls of it were of an uneven height, according as it had been more or less decayed, and the roof of the church seemed ready to fall down on the heads of those underneath. All this the archbishop undertook to repair, and then covered the whole church with lead; to finish which, it took three years, as Osbern tells us, in the life of Odo; (fn. 6) and further, that there was not to be found a church of so large a size, capable of containing so great a multitude of people, and thus, perhaps, it continued without any material change happening to it, till the year 1011; a dismal and fatal year to this church and city; a time of unspeakable confusion and calamities; for in the month of September that year, the Danes, after a siege of twenty days, entered this city by force, burnt the houses, made a lamentable slaughter of the inhabitants, rifled this church, and then set it on fire, insomuch, that the lead with which archbishop Odo had covered it, being melted, ran down on those who were underneath. The sull story of this calamity is given by Osbern, in the life of archbishop Odo, an abridgement of which the reader will find below. (fn. 7)
The church now lay in ruins, without a roof, the bare walls only standing, and in this desolate condition it remained as long as the fury of the Danes prevailed, who after they had burnt the church, carried away archbishop Alphage with them, kept him in prison seven months, and then put him to death, in the year 1012, the year after which Living, or Livingus, succeeded him as archbishop, though it was rather in his calamities than in his seat of dignity, for he too was chained up by the Danes in a loathsome dungeon for seven months, before he was set free, but he so sensibly felt the deplorable state of this country, which he foresaw was every day growing worse and worse, that by a voluntary exile, he withdrew himself out of the nation, to find some solitary retirement, where he might bewail those desolations of his country, to which he was not able to bring any relief, but by his continual prayers. (fn. 8) He just outlived this storm, returned into England, and before he died saw peace and quientness restored to this land by king Canute, who gaining to himself the sole sovereignty over the nation, made it his first business to repair the injuries which had been done to the churches and monasteries in this kingdom, by his father's and his own wars. (fn. 9)
As for this church, archbishop Ægelnoth, who presided over it from the year 1020 to the year 1038, began and finished the repair, or rather the rebuilding of it, assisted in it by the royal munificence of the king, (fn. 10) who in 1023 presented his crown of gold to this church, and restored to it the port of Sandwich, with its liberties. (fn. 11) Notwithstanding this, in less than forty years afterwards, when Lanfranc soon after the Norman conquest came to the see, he found this church reduced almost to nothing by fire, and dilapidations; for Eadmer says, it had been consumed by a third conflagration, prior to the year of his advancement to it, in which fire almost all the antient records of the privileges of it had perished. (fn. 12)
The same writer has given us a description of this old church, as it was before Lanfranc came to the see; by which we learn, that at the east end there was an altar adjoining to the wall of the church, of rough unhewn stone, cemented with mortar, erected by archbishop Odo, for a repository of the body of Wilfrid, archbishop of York, which Odo had translated from Rippon hither, giving it here the highest place; at a convenient distance from this, westward, there was another altar, dedicated to Christ our Saviour, at which divine service was daily celebrated. In this altar was inclosed the head of St. Swithin, with many other relics, which archbishop Alphage brought with him from Winchester. Passing from this altar westward, many steps led down to the choir and nave, which were both even, or upon the same level. At the bottom of the steps, there was a passage into the undercroft, under all the east part of the church. (fn. 13) At the east end of which, was an altar, in which was inclosed, according to old tradition, the head of St. Furseus. From hence by a winding passage, at the west end of it, was the tomb of St. Dunstan, (fn. 14) but separated from the undercroft by a strong stone wall; over the tomb was erected a monument, pyramid wife, and at the head of it an altar, (fn. 15) for the mattin service. Between these steps, or passage into the undercroft and the nave, was the choir, (fn. 16) which was separated from the nave by a fair and decent partition, to keep off the crowds of people that usually were in the body of the church, so that the singing of the chanters in the choir might not be disturbed. About the middle of the length of the nave, were two towers or steeples, built without the walls; one on the south, and the other on the north side. In the former was the altar of St. Gregory, where was an entrance into the church by the south door, and where law controversies and pleas concerning secular matters were exercised. (fn. 17) In the latter, or north tower, was a passage for the monks into the church, from the monastery; here were the cloysters, where the novices were instructed in their religious rules and offices, and where the monks conversed together. In this tower was the altar of St. Martin. At the west end of the church was a chapel, dedicated to the blessed Virgin Mary, to which there was an ascent by steps, and at the east end of it an altar, dedicated to her, in which was inclosed the head of St. Astroburta the Virgin; and at the western part of it was the archbishop's pontifical chair, made of large stones, compacted together with mortar; a fair piece of work, and placed at a convenient distance from the altar, close to the wall of the church. (fn. 18)
To return now to archbishop Lanfranc, who was sent for from Normandy in 1073, being the fourth year of the Conqueror's reign, to fill this see, a time, when a man of a noble spirit, equal to the laborious task he was to undertake, was wanting especially for this church; and that he was such, the several great works which were performed by him, were incontestable proofs, as well as of his great and generous mind. At the first sight of the ruinous condition of this church, says the historian, the archbishop was struck with astonishment, and almost despaired of seeing that and the monastery re edified; but his care and perseverance raised both in all its parts anew, and that in a novel and more magnificent kind and form of structure, than had been hardly in any place before made use of in this kingdom, which made it a precedent and pattern to succeeding structures of this kind; (fn. 19) and new monasteries and churches were built after the example of it; for it should be observed, that before the coming of the Normans most of the churches and monasteries in this kingdom were of wood; (all the monasteries in my realm, says king Edgar, in his charter to the abbey of Malmesbury, dated anno 974, to the outward sight are nothing but worm-eaten and rotten timber and boards) but after the Norman conquest, such timber fabrics grew out of use, and gave place to stone buildings raised upon arches; a form of structure introduced into general use by that nation, and in these parts surnished with stone from Caen, in Normandy. (fn. 20) After this fashion archbishop Lanfranc rebuilt the whole church from the foundation, with the palace and monastery, the wall which encompassed the court, and all the offices belonging to the monastery within the wall, finishing the whole nearly within the compass of seven years; (fn. 21) besides which, he furnished the church with ornaments and rich vestments; after which, the whole being perfected, he altered the name of it, by a dedication of it to the Holy Trinity; whereas, before it was called the church of our Saviour, or Christ-church, and from the above time it bore (as by Domesday book appears) the name of the church of the Holy Trinity; this new church being built on the same spot on which the antient one stood, though on a far different model.
After Lanfranc's death, archbishop Anselm succeeded in the year 1093, to the see of Canterbury, and must be esteemed a principal benefactor to this church; for though his time was perplexed with a continued series of troubles, of which both banishment and poverty made no small part, which in a great measure prevented him from bestowing that cost on his church, which he would otherwise have done, yet it was through his patronage and protection, and through his care and persuasions, that the fabric of it, begun and perfected by his predecessor, became enlarged and rose to still greater splendor. (fn. 22)
In order to carry this forward, upon the vacancy of the priory, he constituted Ernulph and Conrad, the first in 1104, the latter in 1108, priors of this church; to whose care, being men of generous and noble minds, and of singular skill in these matters, he, during his troubles, not only committed the management of this work, but of all his other concerns during his absence.
Probably archbishop Anselm, on being recalled from banishment on king Henry's accession to the throne, had pulled down that part of the church built by Lanfranc, from the great tower in the middle of it to the east end, intending to rebuild it upon a still larger and more magnificent plan; when being borne down by the king's displeasure, he intrusted prior Ernulph with the work, who raised up the building with such splendor, says Malmesbury, that the like was not to be seen in all England; (fn. 23) but the short time Ernulph continued in this office did not permit him to see his undertaking finished. (fn. 24) This was left to his successor Conrad, who, as the obituary of Christ church informs us, by his great industry, magnificently perfected the choir, which his predecessor had left unfinished, (fn. 25) adorning it with curious pictures, and enriching it with many precious ornaments. (fn. 26)
This great undertaking was not entirely compleated at the death of archbishop Anselm, which happened in 1109, anno 9 Henry I. nor indeed for the space of five years afterwards, during which the see of Canterbury continued vacant; when being finished, in honour of its builder, and on account of its more than ordinary beauty, it gained the name of the glorious choir of Conrad. (fn. 27)
After the see of Canterbury had continued thus vacant for five years, Ralph, or as some call him, Rodulph, bishop of Rochester, was translated to it in the year 1114, at whose coming to it, the church was dedicated anew to the Holy Trinity, the name which had been before given to it by Lanfranc. (fn. 28) The only particular description we have of this church when thus finished, is from Gervas, the monk of this monastery, and that proves imperfect, as to the choir of Lanfranc, which had been taken down soon after his death; (fn. 29) the following is his account of the nave, or western part of it below the choir, being that which had been erected by archbishop Lanfranc, as has been before mentioned. From him we learn, that the west end, where the chapel of the Virgin Mary stood before, was now adorned with two stately towers, on the top of which were gilded pinnacles. The nave or body was supported by eight pair of pillars. At the east end of the nave, on the north side, was an oratory, dedicated in honor to the blessed Virgin, in lieu, I suppose, of the chapel, that had in the former church been dedicated to her at the west end. Between the nave and the choir there was built a great tower or steeple, as it were in the centre of the whole fabric; (fn. 30) under this tower was erected the altar of the Holy Cross; over a partition, which separated this tower from the nave, a beam was laid across from one side to the other of the church; upon the middle of this beam was fixed a great cross, between the images of the Virgin Mary and St. John, and between two cherubims. The pinnacle on the top of this tower, was a gilded cherub, and hence it was called the angel steeple; a name it is frequently called by at this day. (fn. 31)
This great tower had on each side a cross isle, called the north and south wings, which were uniform, of the same model and dimensions; each of them had a strong pillar in the middle for a support to the roof, and each of them had two doors or passages, by which an entrance was open to the east parts of the church. At one of these doors there was a descent by a few steps into the undercroft; at the other, there was an ascent by many steps into the upper parts of the church, that is, the choir, and the isles on each side of it. Near every one of these doors or passages, an altar was erected; at the upper door in the south wing, there was an altar in honour of All Saints; and at the lower door there was one of St. Michael; and before this altar on the south side was buried archbishop Fleologild; and on the north side, the holy Virgin Siburgis, whom St. Dunstan highly admired for her sanctity. In the north isle, by the upper door, was the altar of St. Blaze; and by the lower door, that of St. Benedict. In this wing had been interred four archbishops, Adelm and Ceolnoth, behind the altar, and Egelnoth and Wlfelm before it. At the entrance into this wing, Rodulph and his successor William Corboil, both archbishops, were buried. (fn. 32)
Hence, he continues, we go up by some steps into the great tower, and before us there is a door and steps leading down into the south wing, and on the right hand a pair of folding doors, with stairs going down into the nave of the church; but without turning to any of these, let us ascend eastward, till by several more steps we come to the west end of Conrad's choir; being now at the entrance of the choir, Gervas tells us, that he neither saw the choir built by Lanfranc, nor found it described by any one; that Eadmer had made mention of it, without giving any account of it, as he had done of the old church, the reason of which appears to be, that Lanfranc's choir did not long survive its founder, being pulled down as before-mentioned, by archbishop Anselm; so that it could not stand more than twenty years; therefore the want of a particular description of it will appear no great defect in the history of this church, especially as the deficiency is here supplied by Gervas's full relation of the new choir of Conrad, built instead of it; of which, whoever desires to know the whole architecture and model observed in the fabric, the order, number, height and form of the pillars and windows, may know the whole of it from him. The roof of it, he tells us, (fn. 33) was beautified with curious paintings representing heaven; (fn. 34) in several respects it was agreeable to the present choir, the stalls were large and framed of carved wood. In the middle of it, there hung a gilded crown, on which were placed four and twenty tapers of wax. From the choir an ascent of three steps led to the presbiterium, or place for the presbiters; here, he says, it would be proper to stop a little and take notice of the high altar, which was dedicated to the name of CHRIST. It was placed between two other altars, the one of St. Dunstan, the other of St. Alphage; at the east corners of the high altar were fixed two pillars of wood, beautified with silver and gold; upon these pillars was placed a beam, adorned with gold, which reached across the church, upon it there were placed the glory, (fn. 35) the images of St. Dunstan and St. Alphage, and seven chests or coffers overlaid with gold, full of the relics of many saints. Between those pillars was a cross gilded all over, and upon the upper beam of the cross were set sixty bright crystals.
Beyond this, by an ascent of eight steps towards the east, behind the altar, was the archiepiscopal throne, which Gervas calls the patriarchal chair, made of one stone; in this chair, according to the custom of the church, the archbishop used to sit, upon principal festivals, in his pontifical ornaments, whilst the solemn offices of religion were celebrated, until the consecration of the host, when he came down to the high altar, and there performed the solemnity of consecration. Still further, eastward, behind the patriarchal chair, (fn. 36) was a chapel in the front of the whole church, in which was an altar, dedicated to the Holy Trinity; behind which were laid the bones of two archbishops, Odo of Canterbury, and Wilfrid of York; by this chapel on the south side near the wall of the church, was laid the body of archbishop Lanfranc, and on the north side, the body of archbishop Theobald. Here it is to be observed, that under the whole east part of the church, from the angel steeple, there was an undercrost or crypt, (fn. 37) in which were several altars, chapels and sepulchres; under the chapel of the Trinity before-mentioned, were two altars, on the south side, the altar of St. Augustine, the apostle of the English nation, by which archbishop Athelred was interred. On the north side was the altar of St. John Baptist, by which was laid the body of archbishop Eadsin; under the high altar was the chapel and altar of the blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the whole undercroft was dedicated.
To return now, he continues, to the place where the bresbyterium and choir meet, where on each side there was a cross isle (as was to be seen in his time) which might be called the upper south and north wings; on the east side of each of these wings were two half circular recesses or nooks in the wall, arched over after the form of porticoes. Each of them had an altar, and there was the like number of altars under them in the crost. In the north wing, the north portico had the altar of St. Martin, by which were interred the bodies of two archbishops, Wlfred on the right, and Living on the left hand; under it in the croft, was the altar of St. Mary Magdalen. The other portico in this wing, had the altar of St. Stephen, and by it were buried two archbishops, Athelard on the left hand, and Cuthbert on the right; in the croft under it, was the altar of St. Nicholas. In the south wing, the north portico had the altar of St. John the Evangelist, and by it the bodies of Æthelgar and Aluric, archbishops, were laid. In the croft under it was the altar of St. Paulinus, by which the body of archbishop Siricius was interred. In the south portico was the altar of St. Gregory, by which were laid the corps of the two archbishops Bregwin and Plegmund. In the croft under it was the altar of St. Owen, archbishop of Roan, and underneath in the croft, not far from it the altar of St. Catherine.
Passing from these cross isles eastward there were two towers, one on the north, the other on the south side of the church. In the tower on the north side was the altar of St. Andrew, which gave name to the tower; under it, in the croft, was the altar of the Holy Innocents; the tower on the south side had the altar of St. Peter and St. Paul, behind which the body of St. Anselm was interred, which afterwards gave name both to the altar and tower (fn. 38) (now called St. Anselm's). The wings or isles on each side of the choir had nothing in particular to be taken notice of.— Thus far Gervas, from whose description we in particular learn, where several of the bodies of the old archbishops were deposited, and probably the ashes of some of them remain in the same places to this day.
As this building, deservedly called the glorious choir of Conrad, was a magnificent work, so the undertaking of it at that time will appear almost beyond example, especially when the several circumstances of it are considered; but that it was carried forward at the archbishop's cost, exceeds all belief. It was in the discouraging reign of king William Rufus, a prince notorious in the records of history, for all manner of sacrilegious rapine, that archbishop Anselm was promoted to this see; when he found the lands and revenues of this church so miserably wasted and spoiled, that there was hardly enough left for his bare subsistence; who, in the first years that he sat in the archiepiscopal chair, struggled with poverty, wants and continual vexations through the king's displeasure, (fn. 39) and whose three next years were spent in banishment, during all which time he borrowed money for his present maintenance; who being called home by king Henry I. at his coming to the crown, laboured to pay the debts he had contracted during the time of his banishment, and instead of enjoying that tranquility and ease he hoped for, was, within two years afterwards, again sent into banishment upon a fresh displeasure conceived against him by the king, who then seized upon all the revenues of the archbishopric, (fn. 40) which he retained in his own hands for no less than four years.
Under these hard circumstances, it would have been surprizing indeed, that the archbishop should have been able to carry on so great a work, and yet we are told it, as a truth, by the testimonies of history; but this must surely be understood with the interpretation of his having been the patron, protector and encourager, rather than the builder of this work, which he entrusted to the care and management of the priors Ernulph and Conrad, and sanctioned their employing, as Lanfranc had done before, the revenues and stock of the church to this use. (fn. 41)
In this state as above-mentioned, without any thing material happening to it, this church continued till about the year 1130, anno 30 Henry I. when it seems to have suffered some damage by a fire; (fn. 42) but how much, there is no record left to inform us; however it could not be of any great account, for it was sufficiently repaired, and that mostly at the cost of archbishop Corboil, who then sat in the chair of this see, (fn. 43) before the 4th of May that year, on which day, being Rogation Sunday, the bishops performed the dedication of it with great splendor and magnificence, such, says Gervas, col. 1664, as had not been heard of since the dedication of the temple of Solomon; the king, the queen, David, king of Scots, all the archbishops, and the nobility of both kingdoms being present at it, when this church's former name was restored again, being henceforward commonly called Christ-church. (fn. 44)
Among the manuscripts of Trinity college library, in Cambridge, in a very curious triple psalter of St. Jerome, in Latin, written by the monk Eadwyn, whose picture is at the beginning of it, is a plan or drawing made by him, being an attempt towards a representation of this church and monastery, as they stood between the years 1130 and 1174; which makes it probable, that he was one of the monks of it, and the more so, as the drawing has not any kind of relation to the plalter or sacred hymns contained in the manuscript.
His plan, if so it may be called, for it is neither such, nor an upright, nor a prospect, and yet something of all together; but notwithstanding this rudeness of the draftsman, it shews very plain that it was intended for this church and priory, and gives us a very clear knowledge, more than we have been able to learn from any description we have besides, of what both were at the above period of time. (fn. 45)
Forty-four years after this dedication, on the 5th of September, anno 1174, being the 20th year of king Henry II.'s reign, a fire happened, which consumed great part of this stately edifice, namely, the whole choir, from the angel steeple to the east end of the church, together with the prior's lodgings, the chapel of the Virgin Mary, the infirmary, and some other offices belonging to the monastery; but the angel steeple, the lower cross isles, and the nave appear to have received no material injury from the flames. (fn. 46) The narrative of this accident is told by Gervas, the monk of Canterbury, so often quoted before, who was an eye witness of this calamity, as follows:
Three small houses in the city near the old gate of the monastery took fire by accident, a strong south wind carried the flakes of fire to the top of the church, and lodged them between the joints of the lead, driving them to the timbers under it; this kindled a fire there, which was not discerned till the melted lead gave a free passage for the flames to appear above the church, and the wind gaining by this means a further power of increasing them, drove them inwardly, insomuch that the danger became immediately past all possibility of relief. The timber of the roof being all of it on fire, fell down into the choir, where the stalls of the manks, made of large pieces of carved wood, afforded plenty of fuel to the flames, and great part of the stone work, through the vehement heat of the fire, was so weakened, as to be brought to irreparable ruin, and besides the fabric itself, the many rich ornaments in the church were devoured by the flames.
The choir being thus laid in ashes, the monks removed from amidst the ruins, the bodies of the two saints, whom they called patrons of the church, the archbishops Dunstan and Alphage, and deposited them by the altar of the great cross, in the nave of the church; (fn. 47) and from this time they celebrated the daily religious offices in the oratory of the blessed Virgin Mary in the nave, and continued to do so for more than five years, when the choir being re edified, they returned to it again. (fn. 48)
Upon this destruction of the church, the prior and convent, without any delay, consulted on the most speedy and effectual method of rebuilding it, resolving to finish it in such a manner, as should surpass all the former choirs of it, as well in beauty as size and magnificence. To effect this, they sent for the most skilful architects that could be found either in France or England. These surveyed the walls and pillars, which remained standing, but they found great part of them so weakened by the fire, that they could no ways be built upon with any safety; and it was accordingly resolved, that such of them should be taken down; a whole year was spent in doing this, and in providing materials for the new building, for which they sent abroad for the best stone that could be procured; Gervas has given a large account, (fn. 49) how far this work advanced year by year; what methods and rules of architecture were observed, and other particulars relating to the rebuilding of this church; all which the curious reader may consult at his leisure; it will be sufficient to observe here, that the new building was larger in height and length, and more beautiful in every respect, than the choir of Conrad; for the roof was considerably advanced above what it was before, and was arched over with stone; whereas before it was composed of timber and boards. The capitals of the pillars were now beautified with different sculptures of carvework; whereas, they were before plain, and six pillars more were added than there were before. The former choir had but one triforium, or inner gallery, but now there were two made round it, and one in each side isle and three in the cross isles; before, there were no marble pillars, but such were now added to it in abundance. In forwarding this great work, the monks had spent eight years, when they could proceed no further for want of money; but a fresh supply coming in from the offerings at St. Thomas's tomb, so much more than was necessary for perfecting the repair they were engaged in, as encouraged them to set about a more grand design, which was to pull down the eastern extremity of the church, with the small chapel of the Holy Trinity adjoining to it, and to erect upon a stately undercroft, a most magnificent one instead of it, equally lofty with the roof of the church, and making a part of it, which the former one did not, except by a door into it; but this new chapel, which was dedicated likewise to the Holy Trinity, was not finished till some time after the rest of the church; at the east end of this chapel another handsome one, though small, was afterwards erected at the extremity of the whole building, since called Becket's crown, on purpose for an altar and the reception of some part of his relics; (fn. 50) further mention of which will be made hereafter.
The eastern parts of this church, as Mr. Gostling observes, have the appearance of much greater antiquity than what is generally allowed to them; and indeed if we examine the outside walls and the cross wings on each side of the choir, it will appear, that the whole of them was not rebuilt at the time the choir was, and that great part of them was suffered to remain, though altered, added to, and adapted as far as could be, to the new building erected at that time; the traces of several circular windows and other openings, which were then stopped up, removed, or altered, still appearing on the walls both of the isles and the cross wings, through the white-wash with which they are covered; and on the south side of the south isle, the vaulting of the roof as well as the triforium, which could not be contrived so as to be adjusted to the places of the upper windows, plainly shew it. To which may be added, that the base or foot of one of the westernmost large pillars of the choir on the north side, is strengthened with a strong iron band round it, by which it should seem to have been one of those pillars which had been weakened by the fire, but was judged of sufficient firmness, with this precaution, to remain for the use of the new fabric.
The outside of this part of the church is a corroborating proof of what has been mentioned above, as well in the method, as in the ornaments of the building.— The outside of it towards the south, from St. Michael's chapel eastward, is adorned with a range of small pillars, about six inches diameter, and about three feet high, some with santastic shasts and capitals, others with plain ones; these support little arches, which intersect each other; and this chain or girdle of pillars is continued round the small tower, the eastern cross isle and the chapel of St. Anselm, to the buildings added in honour of the Holy Trinity, and St. Thomas Becket, where they leave off. The casing of St. Michael's chapel has none of them, but the chapel of the Virgin Mary, answering to it on the north side of the church, not being fitted to the wall, shews some of them behind it; which seems as if they had been continued before, quite round the eastern parts of the church.
These pillars, which rise from about the level of the pavement, within the walls above them, are remarkably plain and bare of ornaments; but the tower above mentioned and its opposite, as soon as they rise clear of the building, are enriched with stories of this colonade, one above another, up to the platform from whence their spires rise; and the remains of the two larger towers eastward, called St. Anselm's, and that answering to it on the north side of the church, called St. Andrew's are decorated much after the same manner, as high as they remain at present.
At the time of the before-mentioned fire, which so fatally destroyed the upper part of this church, the undercrost, with the vaulting over it, seems to have remained entire, and unhurt by it.
The vaulting of the undercrost, on which the floor of the choir and eastern parts of the church is raised, is supported by pillars, whose capitals are as various and fantastical as those of the smaller ones described before, and so are their shafts, some being round, others canted, twisted, or carved, so that hardly any two of them are alike, except such as are quite plain.
These, I suppose, may be concluded to be of the same age, and if buildings in the same stile may be conjectured to be so from thence, the antiquity of this part of the church may be judged, though historians have left us in the dark in relation to it.
In Leland's Collectanea, there is an account and description of a vault under the chancel of the antient church of St. Peter, in Oxford, called Grymbald's crypt, being allowed by all, to have been built by him; (fn. 51) Grymbald was one of those great and accomplished men, whom king Alfred invited into England about the year 885, to assist him in restoring Christianity, learning and the liberal arts. (fn. 52) Those who compare the vaults or undercrost of the church of Canterbury, with the description and prints given of Grymbald's crypt, (fn. 53) will easily perceive, that two buildings could hardly have been erected more strongly resembling each other, except that this at Canterbury is larger, and more pro fusely decorated with variety of fancied ornaments, the shafts of several of the pillars here being twisted, or otherwise varied, and many of the captials exactly in the same grotesque taste as those in Grymbald's crypt. (fn. 54) Hence it may be supposed, that those whom archbishop Lanfranc employed as architects and designers of his building at Canterbury, took their model of it, at least of this part of it, from that crypt, and this undercrost now remaining is the same, as was originally built by him, as far eastward, as to that part which begins under the chapel of the Holy Trinity, where it appears to be of a later date, erected at the same time as the chapel. The part built by Lanfranc continues at this time as firm and entire, as it was at the very building of it, though upwards of seven hundred years old. (fn. 55)
But to return to the new building; though the church was not compleatly finished till the end of the year 1184, yet it was so far advanced towards it, that, in 1180, on April 19, being Easter eve, (fn. 56) the archbishop, prior and monks entered the new choir, with a solemn procession, singing Te Deum, for their happy return to it. Three days before which they had privately, by night, carried the bodies of St. Dunstan and St. Alphage to the places prepared for them near the high altar. The body likewise of queen Edive (which after the fire had been removed from the north cross isle, where it lay before, under a stately gilded shrine) to the altar of the great cross, was taken up, carried into the vestry, and thence to the altar of St. Martin, where it was placed under the coffin of archbishop Livinge. In the month of July following the altar of the Holy Trinity was demolished, and the bodies of those archbishops, which had been laid in that part of the church, were removed to other places. Odo's body was laid under St. Dunstan's and Wilfrid's under St. Alphage's; Lanfranc's was deposited nigh the altar of St. Martin, and Theobald's at that of the blessed Virgin, in the nave of the church, (fn. 57) under a marble tomb; and soon afterwards the two archbishops, on the right and left hand of archbishop Becket in the undercrost, were taken up and placed under the altar of St. Mary there. (fn. 58)
After a warning so terrible, as had lately been given, it seemed most necessary to provide against the danger of fire for the time to come; the flames, which had so lately destroyed a considerable part of the church and monastery, were caused by some small houses, which had taken fire at a small distance from the church.— There still remained some other houses near it, which belonged to the abbot and convent of St. Augustine; for these the monks of Christ-church created, by an exchange, which could not be effected till the king interposed, and by his royal authority, in a manner, compelled the abbot and convent to a composition for this purpose, which was dated in the year 1177, that was three years after the late fire of this church. (fn. 59)
These houses were immediately pulled down, and it proved a providential and an effectual means of preserving the church from the like calamity; for in the year 1180, on May 22, this new choir, being not then compleated, though it had been used the month be fore, as has been already mentioned, there happened a fire in the city, which burnt down many houses, and the flames bent their course towards the church, which was again in great danger; but the houses near it being taken away, the fire was stopped, and the church escaped being burnt again. (fn. 60)
Although there is no mention of a new dedication of the church at this time, yet the change made in the name of it has been thought by some to imply a formal solemnity of this kind, as it appears to have been from henceforth usually called the church of St. Thomas the Martyr, and to have continued so for above 350 years afterwards.
New names to churches, it is true. have been usually attended by formal consecrations of them; and had there been any such solemnity here, undoubtedly the same would not have passed by unnoticed by every historian, the circumstance of it must have been notorious, and the magnificence equal at least to the other dedications of this church, which have been constantly mentioned by them; but here was no need of any such ceremony, for although the general voice then burst forth to honour this church with the name of St. Thomas, the universal object of praise and adoration, then stiled the glorious martyr, yet it reached no further, for the name it had received at the former dedication, notwithstanding this common appellation of it, still remained in reality, and it still retained invariably in all records and writings, the name of Christ church only, as appears by many such remaining among the archives of the dean and chapter; and though on the seal of this church, which was changed about this time; the counter side of it had a representation of Becket's martyrdom, yet on the front of it was continued that of the church, and round it an inscription with the former name of Christ church; which seal remained in force till the dissolution of the priory.
It may not be improper to mention here some transactions, worthy of observation, relating to this favorite saint, which passed from the time of his being murdered, to that of his translation to the splendid shrine prepared for his relics.
Archbishop Thomas Becket was barbarously murdered in this church on Dec. 29, 1170, being the 16th year of king Henry II. and his body was privately buried towards the east end of the undercrost. The monks tell us, that about the Easter following, miracles began to be wrought by him, first at his tomb, then in the undercrost, and in every part of the whole fabric of the church; afterwards throughout England, and lastly, throughout the rest of the world. (fn. 61) The same of these miracles procured him the honour of a formal canonization from pope Alexander III. whose bull for that purpose is dated March 13, in the year 1172. (fn. 62) This declaration of the pope was soon known in all places, and the reports of his miracles were every where sounded abroad. (fn. 63)
Hereupon crowds of zealots, led on by a phrenzy of devotion, hastened to kneel at his tomb. In 1177, Philip, earl of Flanders, came hither for that purpose, when king Henry met and had a conference with him at Canterbury. (fn. 64) In June 1178, king Henry returning from Normandy, visited the sepulchre of this new saint; and in July following, William, archbishop of Rhemes, came from France, with a large retinue, to perform his vows to St. Thomas of Canterbury, where the king met him and received him honourably. In the year 1179, Lewis, king of France, came into England; before which neither he nor any of his predecessors had ever set foot in this kingdom. (fn. 65) He landed at Dover, where king Henry waited his arrival, and on August 23, the two kings came to Canterbury, with a great train of nobility of both nations, and were received with due honour and great joy, by the archbishop, with his com-provincial bishops, and the prior and the whole convent. (fn. 66)
King Lewis came in the manner and habit of a pilgrim, and was conducted to the tomb of St. Thomas by a solemn procession; he there offered his cup of gold and a royal precious stone, (fn. 67) and gave the convent a yearly rent for ever, of a hundred muids of wine, to be paid by himself and his successors; which grant was confirmed by his royal charter, under his seal, and delivered next day to the convent; (fn. 68) after he had staid here two, (fn. 69) or as others say, three days, (fn. 70) during which the oblations of gold and silver made were so great, that the relation of them almost exceeded credibility. (fn. 71) In 1181, king Henry, in his return from Normandy, again paid his devotions at this tomb. These visits were the early fruits of the adoration of the new sainted martyr, and these royal examples of kings and great persons were followed by multitudes, who crowded to present with full hands their oblations at his tomb.— Hence the convent was enabled to carry forward the building of the new choir, and they applied all this vast income to the fabric of the church, as the present case instantly required, for which they had the leave and consent of the archbishop, confirmed by the bulls of several succeeding popes. (fn. 72)
¶From the liberal oblations of these royal and noble personages at the tomb of St. Thomas, the expences of rebuilding the choir appear to have been in a great measure supplied, nor did their devotion and offerings to the new saint, after it was compleated, any ways abate, but, on the contrary, they daily increased; for in the year 1184, Philip, archbishop of Cologne, and Philip, earl of Flanders, came together to pay their vows at this tomb, and were met here by king Henry, who gave them an invitation to London. (fn. 73) In 1194, John, archbishop of Lions; in the year afterwards, John, archbishop of York; and in the year 1199, king John, performed their devotions at the foot of this tomb. (fn. 74) King Richard I. likewise, on his release from captivity in Germany, landing on the 30th of March at Sandwich, proceeded from thence, as an humble stranger on foot, towards Canterbury, to return his grateful thanks to God and St. Thomas for his release. (fn. 75) All these by name, with many nobles and multitudes of others, of all sorts and descriptions, visited the saint with humble adoration and rich oblations, whilst his body lay in the undercrost. In the mean time the chapel and altar at the upper part of the east end of the church, which had been formerly consecrated to the Holy Trinity, were demolished, and again prepared with great splendor, for the reception of this saint, who being now placed there, implanted his name not only on the chapel and altar, but on the whole church, which was from thenceforth known only by that of the church of St. Thomas the martyr.
On July 7, anno 1220, the remains of St. Thomas were translated from his tomb to his new shrine, with the greatest solemnity and rejoicings. Pandulph, the pope's legate, the archbishops of Canterbury and Rheims, and many bishops and abbots, carried the coffin on their shoulders, and placed it on the new shrine, and the king graced these solemnities with his royal presence. (fn. 76) The archbishop of Canterbury provided forage along all the road, between London and Canterbury, for the horses of all such as should come to them, and he caused several pipes and conduits to run with wine in different parts of the city. This, with the other expences arising during the time, was so great, that he left a debt on the see, which archbishop Boniface, his fourth successor in it, was hardly enabled to discharge.
¶The saint being now placed in his new repository, became the vain object of adoration to the deluded people, and afterwards numbers of licences were granted to strangers by the king, to visit this shrine. (fn. 77) The titles of glorious, of saint and martyr, were among those given to him; (fn. 78) such veneration had all people for his relics, that the religious of several cathedral churches and monasteries, used all their endeavours to obtain some of them, and thought themselves happy and rich in the possession of the smallest portion of them. (fn. 79) Besides this, there were erected and dedicated to his honour, many churches, chapels, altars and hospitals in different places, both in this kingdom and abroad. (fn. 80) Thus this saint, even whilst he lay in his obscure tomb in the undercroft, brought such large and constant supplies of money, as enabled the monks to finish this beautiful choir, and the eastern parts of the church; and when he was translated to the most exalted and honourable place in it, a still larger abundance of gain filled their coffers, which continued as a plentiful supply to them, from year to year, to the time of the reformation, and the final abolition of the priory itself.
There is a point in our lives when we, the children, become the adults in the relationship with our parents.
It will come for most of us, no one tells you this will happen, and you are unprepared for it. But it comes
And each of us has a different relationship with our parents than everyone else, what's right for me, and my views, do not apply to you.
Yesterday, was the funeral of the person I have known longer than anyone else on this earth, now that my family is all gone. Margaret and Brian were married a few weeks before mine, and moved into the new build bungalow also a few weeks before my parents.
They also had one child, a son, and Douglas and I have been friends longer than I have been friends with anyone else, although he is a year younger than me.
I have my views on Margaret, but the reason I travelled back to Suffolk for her funeral, was to be there for Douggie, and give him the support he has given me through three weddings and two funerals.
Norfolk isn't far away, and the funeral and wake were taking place just a mile or two over the border from Suffolk, but the roads beyond Ipswich are poor, twisty and where there are accidents or roadworks, no real alternative routes.
I was also leaving just before six, so had to get across the Thames at Dartford and up the A12 during rush hour, so it wouldn't be easy. But at least there would be no rain.
I was up at five, dressed and washed, with time to drink a coffee before leaving. Loading the car with me and my camera bag, as I had plans in case I had time, to visit a church or two.
It was dark up the M20 to Dartford, and busy with traffic, but I made good time, and listened to a loop of old music podcasts all day, so chat and music kept me awake.
I got onto the M25 with no problem, and through the tunnels with only a slight slowdown, but on the other side there were queues.
Despite not wanting to spend money on a new railway, there is always money for road and junction improvements, even if it will just increase traffic. So it is that the M25/A12 junction is being upgraded, and with narrow lanes, speed restrictions, jams began a good four miles before the roadworks started.
I forced my way to the left hand lane, which became a filter lane, meaning it was much quicker than the remaining four lanes. But then came the roundabout. The roundabout under the motorway is the reason the improvements are needed, and queueing traffic blocks the junctions and causes even more backlogs.
Of course, traffic lights on roundabouts are never good ideas, so I was confronted with a wall of traffic, so when the light went green, I went in front of a track before it could shuffle forward and block more of the junction, then there was some clear road.
And ducking into the extreme left hand lane, I dodged past the queuing traffic that was blocking the exit from the A12, and onto clear road.
Yay.
The sky was clear, the sun about to rise, and it was going to be a glorious day.
Just north of Chelmsford, I stopped for breakfast: two sausage rolls and a coffee from Greggs, then filled up the tank and on my way north.
More traffic at Ipswich where the A12 meets the A14 to get over the Orwell, but then clear traffic again after ten minutes delay.
Soon, though, the road narrows to two lane blacktop, and all is well until you meet a slower vehicle. Like a tractor as we did soon after Whickham Market.
For 15 long minutes the tractor lead a growing snake of cars along the winding lanes until it pulled over and we could get past.
Blythburgh was always the marker when travelling back from Ipswich or beyond, that we were nearly home. he handsome church sits high, for Suffolk, overlooking the village and river which is mostly mudflats.
The busy A12 skirts close, but you get to the church via a narrow land, leaving the modern world far behind.
The church opened at nine, it was nearly half past, it was probably open before nine, and was open when I pushed the porch door.
Inside is an unspoilt space, grey wood that have witnessed the centuries so that their vigour has faded to almost no colour of all.
Its the roof people come for. Wooden beams and pairs of wooden angels. I have brought my big lens so to snap them.
My plan was to visit the large and impressive church in Southwold. I turned off the A12 and drove along the straight road into the town, where I found multiple sets of roadworks, and few places to park for a short time, anywhere near the church.
My back is achy, so I wanted somewhere close to park. Anyway, I drove round the town twice, found nowhere to park, so turned the car round and headed back north, until I came to South Cove.
South Cove is a small village, a few farms really, but has a fine, if rustic, well-proportioned church, set in a large churchyard.
And the church was open, so small the wide angle lens wasn't needed, and with windows close to the floor too, no big lens needed either.
Next town up is Kessingland, which until the 80s had the A12 running through the centre of it, but now a bypass lays to the west and the village is quiet. I don't think I had been of the main street, so I went in search of the church, and found it on Church Street.
Obviously.
I rarely research churches before I visit, so nothing prepared me for the interior of St Edmund.
It seems in the last two years, they church had sourced some banners with apt slogans on, banners which were made to look like large tapered ensigns, hanging from or along the supports of the roof.
A man was practicing on the organ, and the notes echoed round the church. Not only does the church have banners, it has ship's wheels and other nautical stuff, although most traditionalists won't like it, I think it hangs together, and if the congregation wants it thus, who are we to argue?
Next stop was South Cove, which I had forgotten I had visited before, so redid all my shots. But this time did see the panel featuring St Michael behind the font, where the rood steps began.
A small, perfect, church, perfect for a small country parish.
I take my shots and leave, driving back onto the A12 and heading into Lowestoft, my main task was to drive over the new bridge which spans Lake Lothing.
The town had been waiting since at least 1966 for a new bridge, and the 3rd crossing was opened in September, and offers fine views as you drive across.
I went to see the old family home. It has been renovated and looks splendid, and not much like it was when sold four years back, it looks cared for and lived in, which is what the buyer promised us he would do.
So then to the crematorium, a drive north through Gunton and past Hopton where Dougie lives, then through the housing estate behind the area hospital to the car park, and then wait.
Margaret was 89, had a long life, but friends of the same age are few, and families are now scattered. So, one can never be sure how many will attend. The chapel was half full at least, with people coming from Kent, Wiltshire and even California to be there.
The celebrant spoke for twenty minutes, saying nice things as they have to do. But, avoiding, or just hinting at faults. Whatever she had done in her life to Dougie, he still loved her, and he was in bits.
Afterward we lined up to shake his hand or give him and Pennie a hug, and allowed me to tell him he was the brother I never had. He was always there for me, and will be there for him.
More tears.
There was a wake at the pub in Hopton, but there was no one I knew other than Dougie and Penny, so I had a drink and made my excuses. These things are really for family and close friends, so I left at quarter to three, hoping to get home before midnight.
In the end, I made good time, I was going round Ipswich before four, and at the M25 junction less than an hour later, and was able to easily join it and zoom round to the bridge. No queues on the southbound side, but the queue northbound went all the way back to the M20 junction, so six mines.
I zoomed on.
I got home at ten past six, happy to have done it and go home in under three and a half hours. Dinner was defrosted ragu, pasta and reheated focaccia, which we were sitting down to eat twenty minutes after getting in.
Phew.
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Perhaps some counties have a church which sums them up. If there has to be one for Suffolk, it must be the church of the Most Holy Trinity, Blythburgh. Here is the late medieval Suffolk imagination writ large, as large as it gets, and not overwritten by the Anglican triumphalism of the 19th century. Blythburgh church is often compared with its near neighbour, St Edmund at Southwold, but this isn't a fair comparison - Southwold church is much grander, and full of urban confidence. Probably a better comparison is with St Margaret, Lowestoft, for there, too, the Reformation intervened before the tower could be rebuilt. The two churches have a lot in common, but Blythburgh has the saving grace. It is so fascinating, so stunningly beautiful, by virtue of a factor that is rare in Anglican parish churches: sheer neglect.
Holy Trinity, Blythburgh, is the church that Suffolk people know and love best, and because of this it has generated some extraordinary legends. The first is that Blythburgh, now a tiny village bisected by the fearsome A12 between London and the east coast ports, was once a thriving medieval town. This idea is used to explain the size of the church; in reality, it is almost certainly not the case. Blythburgh has always been small. But it did have an important medieval priory, and thus its church attracted enough wealthy piety on the eve of the Reformation to bankroll a spectacular rebuilding.
It is to Lavenham, Long Melford, Mildenhall, Southwold and here that we come to see the late 15th century Suffolk aesthetic in perfection. But for my money, Holy Trinity, Blythburgh, is the most significant medieval art object in the county, ranking alongside Salle in Norfolk. Look up at the clerestory; it seems impossible, there is so much glass, so little stone; and yet it rides the building with an air of permanence. Beneath, there is a coyness about the aisles that I prefer to the mathematics of Lavenham. Here, it could not have been done otherwise; it distils human architectural experience. If St Peter and St Paul at Lavenham is man talking to God, Holy Trinity at Blythburgh is God talking to man.
At the east end, a curious series of initials in Lombardic script stretch across the outer chancel wall. You can see an image of this at the top. It reads A-N-JS-B-S-T-M-S-A-H-K-R. This probably stands for Ad Nomina JesuS, Beati Sanctae Trinitas, Maria Sanctorem Anne Honorem Katherine Reconstructus ('In the name of the blessed Jesus, the Holy Trinity, and in honour of Holy Mary, Anne and Katherine, this was rebuilt'). A fanciful theory is that they are the initials of the wives of the donors. However, note the symbol of the Trinity in the T stone, and I think this is a clue to the whole piece.
Figures stand on pedestals atop the south side and east end. The most easterly is unusual, a crowned old man sitting on a throne directly on the gable end. This is a medieval image of God the Father, a rare survival. Moving westwards from here we find the Blessed Virgin in prayerful pose, Christ as the Saviour of the World holding an orb in one hand and blessing with the other, and then a collared bear with a ragged staff, a seated woodwose, another bear, this time with a collar and bell, and last of all a fox with a goose in its mouth, his jaws grasping the neck:
The porch is part of the late 15th century rebuilding, but it was considerably restored in the early 20th century. Interestingly, the angels crowning the battlements look medieval - but they weren't there in 1900, so must have come from somewhere else. Pretty much all the porch's features of interest date from this time. These include the small medieval font pressed into service as a holy water stoup, and image niche above the doors. This has been filled in more recent years by an image if the Holy Trinity; God the Father holds the Son suspended while a dove representing the Holy Spirit alights; you can see medieval versions of this at Framlingham and Little Glemham. Of all medieval imagery, this was the most frowned upon by puritans. An image of God the Father was thought the most suspicious of all idolatries. Indeed, as late as the 1870s, when the Reverend White edited the first popular edition of the Diary of William Dowsing, he actually congratulated Dowsing on destroying images of the Holy Trinity in the course of his 1644 progress through the counties of Suffolk and Cambridgeshire.
William Dowsing visited on the morning on April 9th, 1644. It was a Tuesday, and he had spent most of the week in the area. The previous day he'd been at Southwold and Walberswick to the east, but preceded his visit here with one to Blyford, which lies to the west, so he was probably staying overnight at the family home in Laxfield. He found twenty images in stained glass to take to task (a surprisingly small number, given the size of the place) and two hundred more that were inaccessible that morning (probably in the great east window). Three brass inscriptions incurred his wrath (but again, this is curious; there were many more) and he also ordered down the cross on the porch and the cross on the tower. Most significantly of all, he decided the angels in the roof should go.
Lots of Suffolk churches have angels in their roofs. None are like Blythburgh's. You step inside, and there they are, exactly as you've seen them in books and in photographs. They are awesome, breathtaking. There are twelve of them. Perhaps there were once twenty. How would you get them down if ordered to do so? The roof is so high, and the stencilling of IHS symbols would also have to go.
Perhaps this was already indistinct by the time Dowsing visited. Perhaps Tuesday, 9th of April 1644 was a dull day.
Several of the angels are peppered with lead shot. Here is another of those Suffolk legends; that Dowsing and the churchwardens fired muskets at the angels to try and bring them down. But when the angels were restored in the 1970s, the lead shot removed was found to be 18th century; contemporary with them there is a note in the churchwardens accounts that men were paid for shooting jackdaws living inside the building, so that probably explains where the shot came from. Here are some details of that wonderful roof:
The otherwise splendid church guide also repeats the error that the Holy Trinity symbol in the porch filled a gap that had been 'empty since 1644'. But there was certainly no image in it when Dowsing arrived here, or anywhere else in Suffolk; statues were completely outlawed by injunctions in the early years of the reign of Edward VI, almost a hundred years before the morning of Dowsing's visit.
Another feature used as evidence of puritan destruction is the ring fixed into the most westerly pillar of the north arcade. Cromwell's men stabled their horses here, apparently. Well, it almost certainly is a ring for tying horses to, and the broken bricks at the cleared west end also suggest this; but there is no reason to think that Cromwell and the puritans were responsible. For a full century before Cromwell, and for nearly two hundred years afterwards, a church as big as this would have had a multitude of uses. Holy Trinity was built for the rituals of the Catholic church; once these were no longer allowed, a village like Blythburgh, which can never have had more than 500 people, would have seen it as an asset in other ways. It was only with the 19th century sacramental revival brought about by the Oxford Movement that we started getting all holy again about our parish churches. Perhaps it was used as an overnight stables for passing travellers on the main road; not an un-Christian use for it to be put to, I think.
In August 1577, a great storm brought down the steeple, which fell into the church and damaged the font. This was at the height of Elizabethan superstition, and the devil was blamed; his hoof marks can still be seen on the church door. Supposedly, a black dog ran through the church, killing two parishioners; he was seen the same day at St Mary, Bungay. Black Shuck is the East Anglian devil dog, the feared hound of the marshes; and Holy Trinity is the self-styled Cathedral of the Marshes, so it is appropriate that he appeared here. You can see where the font has been broken. You can also see that this was one of the rare, beautiful seven sacrament fonts, similar in style to the one at Westhall; but, like those at neighbouring Wenhaston and Southwold, it has been completely stripped of imagery. Almost certainly, this was in the 1540s, but there is a story that the font at Wenhaston was chiselled clean as part of the 19th century restoration. More importantly in any case, the storm, or the dog, or the devil, damaged the roof; it would not be properly repaired for more than 400 years. Throughout the 17th and 18th centuries, accounts note that Holy Trinity is not impregnable to the weather. By the 19th century, parishioners attended divine service with umbrellas. By the 1880s, it was a positively dangerous building to be in, and the Bishop of Norwich ordered it closed.
Why had Holy Trinity not been restored? Simply, this is a big church, with a tiny village. There was no rich patron, and in any case the parishioners had a passion for Methodism. Probably, repairs had been mooted, but not a wholesale restoration as we have seen at Lavenham, Long Melford and Southwold. By the 1880s, attention in England had turned to the preservation of medieval detail; in short, restorations were not as ignorant as they had been a quarter of a century earlier. Suggestions that Holy Trinity should be restored in the manner of the other three were blocked by the Society for the Preservation of Ancient Buildings, and this owed a lot to the energy of William Morris, the Society's secretary.
The slow, patient restoration of this building took the best part of a century; indeed, when I first visited in the 1980s I was still aware of a sense of decay.
Nothing could be further from the truth today. You step into a wide, white, open space, one of England's great church interiors. There, high above you, is the glorious roof and the angels of God. The brick floors spread around the scraped font, which still bears its dedicatory inscription and standing places for participants. You turn into the central gangway, and more than twenty empty indents for brasses stretch before you. Dowsing can be blamed for the destruction of hardly any of them. In reality, you see the work of 18th and 19th century thieves and collectors.
The bench-ends are superb. The benches themselves were reconstructed in the late 19th century, supposedly from the main post of Westleton windmill, but the ends are some of the county's finest medieval images. There are partial sets of basically three series: the Seven Deadly Sins, the Seven Works of Mercy, and the Labours of the Seasons. There are also angels bearing symbols of the Holy Trinity and the Crown. There are other figures too, obscure and fragmentary and whose purpose is unclear, as if surviving figments of a broken dream. The quality of what remains makes you grieve for what has been lost.
The rood screen is a disappointment; most of it is modern, and the medieval bits perfunctory and scoured. Having said this, note how tiny the exit from the north aisle rood loft stair is. Also at this end of the church, a scattering of medieval glass, mainly angels. There is more in the south aisle, including a collection of shields of the Holy Trinity:
But step through the central aisle to see something remarkable. The priest and choir stalls are fronted by exquisite carvings of the Apostles, the Evangelists, John the Baptist, St Stephen, Mary Queen of Heaven and Christ in Majesty. Seeing these eighteen carvings is a bit like gobbling up a very large box of chocolates, but it is worth stopping to consider quite how genuine they all are. For a start, there could not have been choir stalls here in medieval times, and in any case we know that these desks and their frontages were in the north aisle chapel until the 19th century. They were used as school benches in the 17th century; they still bear holes for inkpots, and the graffiti of a bored Dutch child (his father was probably working on draining the marshes) is dated 1665. There is nothing at all like them anywhere else in Suffolk.
Whatever, the east end of the chancel and aisles are thrillingly modern, wholly devotional. In the north aisle, traditionally the Hopton chantry, extraordinary friezes of skeletons become symbols of the four evangelists behind the altar. Beside them is Peter Ball's beautiful Madonna and Child. Separating the south aisle chapel from the sanctuary is is one of Suffolk's biggest Easter sepulchres, tomb of the Hoptons. Behind the high altar, branches arranged like huge stag antlers spread dramatically. It is all just about perfect. Tucked to one side of the organ is a clockjack; Suffolk has two, and the other is down-river at Southwold. They date from the late 17th century, and presumably once struck the hours; at high church Blythburgh and Southwold today, they are used to announce the entry of the ministers.
This is a wonderful church to wander around in, the light and the air changing with the seasons, a suffused sense of the numinous presenting its different faces according to the time of day and time of year. Come here on a bright spring morning, or in the drowsy heat of a summer's day. Come on a cold winter afternoon as the colours fade and the smell of woodsmoke from neighbouring cottages weaves a spell above the old stone floors and woodwork. And before you leave, find the doorway in the south-west corner of the nave. It opens onto a low, narrow stairway. You can go up it. It leads up into the parvise storey of the south porch, now reappointed and dedicated as a tiny chapel, a peaceful spot to spend a few moments before continuing your journey.
You may be reading this entry in a far-off land; or perhaps you are here at home. Whatever, if you have not visited this church, then I urge you to do so. It is the most beautiful church in Suffolk, a wonderful art object, and it is always open in daylight. It remains one of the most significant medieval buildings in England. If you only visit one of Suffolk's churches, then make it this one
Simon Knott, 2014.
In 2018, a Flickrfriend noticed I was posting shots near to where she lived in New York. Short story is that the next day we met up for beers and a chat.
Fast forward five years and Diane is back visiting the UK and she was coming to Canterbury, did I want to meet and show her round?
Yes.
Yes, I do.
With just the one car, and Canterbury being a car-unfriendly city built still on a medieval road plan, it is easier to travel by public transport. So, at half seven, Jools dropped me off at Dover Priory so I could catch the train to Canterbury East, through the overgrown remains of the Kent coalfield at Shepherdswell and Snowdon, and detrain at Canterbury.
It was a dull, damp morning, with a strong wind blowing, but the forecast suggested little rain, but the wind would ensure that what rain there was, would be thrown in our faces, or at our back, with some force.
It is a poorly marked path into the city centre, but thanks to the nearby Castle, St Mildrids and Dane John Park, I guessed, correctly, that I walked straight ahead, once having crossed the small park which seems to be where St Mary in Castro once stood, the centre would be about ten minutes away.
I had eaten just an orange before leaving home, having decided I should have breakfast out, so it was that I walked to, and into The Saffron Café, where I ordered a large breakfast a a pot of tea, then people watched as I waited for the bangers and rashers to be cooked.
When it arrived, it was very good indeed, not greasy, and just what I had planned breakfast to be.
Once eaten and paid, I walk to the Buttercross, where the time was a minute before nine, and the Cathedral would soon be open.
No one else around, so I became the first paying visitor of the day, and went round taking some shots (I only had the nifty fifty with me, but my main target was the Chapterhouse and Crypt.
Both were open, though photography not allowed in the Crypt, though I did take a couple of shots of what I wanted to see here, the two columns rescued from the old Saxon church at Recilver, which was pulled down by its parishioners who believed, thanks to the then vicar's mother, that it was imperilled by the encroaching sea.
200 years later and Reculver Towers still stand, and the footprint of the church is still safe from the sea.
My only concern as to see wheich of the dozens of columns down in the Crypt, all holding the cathedral above it, up, where the ones I wanted to see. That was answered by two oversized columns, which were labelled as such. I took my shots and went in search of the Chapterhouse, which somehow I had missed on previous visits too.
This was open, and empty, but the stunning ceiling and stined glass windows would require a return visit with the big lens, but no matter as the entrance ticket allows for unlimited revisits for 12 months.
I walk back outside after an hour, and get a message from Diane that she was delayed with ticket problems, so I had time on my hands before her new arrival time of ten past midday came.
So, I went for a haircut, saving me a job on Sunday, though not as good as the guys in Folkestone, it'll last until I return from Denmark in two weeks or maybe more.
I had forgotten to pring my allergy spray, so went in search of a branch of Boots, got the spray, then went to Waterstones for a copy of Stuart Maconie's new book, not for today, but for my trip to Denmark, something to read when dining alone.....
That found and bought, it was now time to walk to the station and meet Diane, and maybe even read the first chapter of the book too.
I reached the station with a quarter of an hour to spare, so I sat down to begin to read, when a group of four young adults sat behind, began playing music, smoking and to start being annoying. And then a man came to me and asked if I was local, and if so did I know where the job centre was?
I didn't, but one of the young men behind me chirped up and explained by turning left on the main road and following the road along would bring him to the job centre.
Never judge a book by the cover, Ian.
Diane's train came in, and after negotiating the lift up from the platform, along the walkway and down the lift the other side, ten more minutes had gone by, but she came out.
We hugged and I had to explain that the Cathedral had more steps than I remember, but we could go and see where we could get into and see.
So, first up was a walk back into the city, past the Westgate, over broth branches of the Stour, stopping to look at the ditching stool and then through to Palace Street to see Number 8, and further along to the old King's School Book Shop with its wonky door and all odd angles.
Diane got her shots, and on the way back we paused for a drink at the Bell and Crown, where a "typical" English beer was requested. After chatting with a guy at the bar, I decided on a Leffe, as I had bought her a Belgian beer in NYC when we last met.
I took the beer outside where we drank and talked more.
A check of the time revelled it to be after two, so we drank up and walked to the Cathedral. I had my ticket from the morning, Diane bought hers, and we made our way to the side door so she could see and take shots from the Nave.
To get to the Quire we had to go back out and walk all the way round past the Chancel, ruins of other buildings and to where there was a passageway to the School, the other way lead to a small barely marked lift, which took us up to the Quire, where the majesty of the Cathedral.
It really is rather magnificent, even if on her buggy we could not get to see the tomb of The Black Prince.
Sunlight falling through the stained glass was also wonderful, and we both took shots, but time was getting away.
Before I left for home, we looked for a place to eat, couldn't find a pasty shop, but we did find a chippy. So eating a battered sausage and well salted and vinegared chips we ate and talked so more.
And so it was time to part, I took her back to High Street, and she went off to West Station, while I walked back to East.
Thankfully I had walked it this morning, so found it no trouble, but the way was poorly marked and I could have easily got lost.
On the platform, there was a train in ten minutes, which would get me back to Priory station by twenty past five, just in time for Jools to pick me up on her way home.
Which would have been perfect had it not been for roadworks and traffic lights. I walked up Folkestone Road along the line of cars waiting at the lights until I found Jools, got in and once through the lights, back up Jubilee Way to home.
I quickly rustled up Carbonara, plating it up in less than 20 minutes. I checked my phone, 21,500 steps, which the health app seemed to approve of.
And to end the perfect day, Norwich were on telly, but playing Leicester who took their chances and we didn't. City lost 2-0.
Oh well.
A fine day, all in all
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History of the cathedral
THE ORIGIN of a Christian church on the scite of the present cathedral, is supposed to have taken place as early as the Roman empire in Britain, for the use of the antient faithful and believing soldiers of their garrison here; and that Augustine found such a one standing here, adjoining to king Ethelbert's palace, which was included in the king's gift to him.
This supposition is founded on the records of the priory of Christ-church, (fn. 1) concurring with the common opinion of almost all our historians, who tell us of a church in Canterbury, which Augustine found standing in the east part of the city, which he had of king Ethelbert's gift, which after his consecration at Arles, in France, he commended by special dedication to the patronage of our blessed Saviour. (fn. 2)
According to others, the foundations only of an old church formerly built by the believing Romans, were left here, on which Augustine erected that, which he afterwards dedicated to out Saviour; (fn. 3) and indeed it is not probable that king Ethelbert should have suffered the unsightly ruins of a Christian church, which, being a Pagan, must have been very obnoxious to him, so close to his palace, and supposing these ruins had been here, would he not have suffered them to be repaired, rather than have obliged his Christian queen to travel daily to such a distance as St. Martin's church, or St. Pancrace's chapel, for the performance of her devotions.
Some indeed have conjectured that the church found by St. Augustine, in the east part of the city, was that of St.Martin, truly so situated; and urge in favor of it, that there have not been at any time any remains of British or Roman bricks discovered scattered in or about this church of our Saviour, those infallible, as Mr. Somner stiles them, signs of antiquity, and so generally found in buildings, which have been erected on, or close to the spot where more antient ones have stood. But to proceed, king Ethelbert's donation to Augustine was made in the year 596, who immediately afterwards went over to France, and was consecrated a bishop at Arles, and after his return, as soon as he had sufficiently finished a church here, whether built out of ruins or anew, it matters not, he exercised his episcopal function in the dedication of it, says the register of Christ-church, to the honor of Christ our Saviour; whence it afterwards obtained the name of Christ-church. (fn. 4)
From the time of Augustine for the space of upwards of three hundred years, there is not found in any printed or manuscript chronicle, the least mention of the fabric of this church, so that it is probable nothing befell it worthy of being recorded; however it should be mentioned, that during that period the revenues of it were much increased, for in the leiger books of it there are registered more than fifty donations of manors, lands, &c. so large and bountiful, as became the munificence of kings and nobles to confer. (fn. 5)
It is supposed, especially as we find no mention made of any thing to the contrary, that the fabric of this church for two hundred years after Augustine's time, met with no considerable molestations; but afterwards, the frequent invasions of the Danes involved both the civil and ecclesiastical state of this country in continual troubles and dangers; in the confusion of which, this church appears to have run into a state of decay; for when Odo was promoted to the archbishopric, in the year 938, the roof of it was in a ruinous condition; age had impaired it, and neglect had made it extremely dangerous; the walls of it were of an uneven height, according as it had been more or less decayed, and the roof of the church seemed ready to fall down on the heads of those underneath. All this the archbishop undertook to repair, and then covered the whole church with lead; to finish which, it took three years, as Osbern tells us, in the life of Odo; (fn. 6) and further, that there was not to be found a church of so large a size, capable of containing so great a multitude of people, and thus, perhaps, it continued without any material change happening to it, till the year 1011; a dismal and fatal year to this church and city; a time of unspeakable confusion and calamities; for in the month of September that year, the Danes, after a siege of twenty days, entered this city by force, burnt the houses, made a lamentable slaughter of the inhabitants, rifled this church, and then set it on fire, insomuch, that the lead with which archbishop Odo had covered it, being melted, ran down on those who were underneath. The sull story of this calamity is given by Osbern, in the life of archbishop Odo, an abridgement of which the reader will find below. (fn. 7)
The church now lay in ruins, without a roof, the bare walls only standing, and in this desolate condition it remained as long as the fury of the Danes prevailed, who after they had burnt the church, carried away archbishop Alphage with them, kept him in prison seven months, and then put him to death, in the year 1012, the year after which Living, or Livingus, succeeded him as archbishop, though it was rather in his calamities than in his seat of dignity, for he too was chained up by the Danes in a loathsome dungeon for seven months, before he was set free, but he so sensibly felt the deplorable state of this country, which he foresaw was every day growing worse and worse, that by a voluntary exile, he withdrew himself out of the nation, to find some solitary retirement, where he might bewail those desolations of his country, to which he was not able to bring any relief, but by his continual prayers. (fn. 8) He just outlived this storm, returned into England, and before he died saw peace and quientness restored to this land by king Canute, who gaining to himself the sole sovereignty over the nation, made it his first business to repair the injuries which had been done to the churches and monasteries in this kingdom, by his father's and his own wars. (fn. 9)
As for this church, archbishop Ægelnoth, who presided over it from the year 1020 to the year 1038, began and finished the repair, or rather the rebuilding of it, assisted in it by the royal munificence of the king, (fn. 10) who in 1023 presented his crown of gold to this church, and restored to it the port of Sandwich, with its liberties. (fn. 11) Notwithstanding this, in less than forty years afterwards, when Lanfranc soon after the Norman conquest came to the see, he found this church reduced almost to nothing by fire, and dilapidations; for Eadmer says, it had been consumed by a third conflagration, prior to the year of his advancement to it, in which fire almost all the antient records of the privileges of it had perished. (fn. 12)
The same writer has given us a description of this old church, as it was before Lanfranc came to the see; by which we learn, that at the east end there was an altar adjoining to the wall of the church, of rough unhewn stone, cemented with mortar, erected by archbishop Odo, for a repository of the body of Wilfrid, archbishop of York, which Odo had translated from Rippon hither, giving it here the highest place; at a convenient distance from this, westward, there was another altar, dedicated to Christ our Saviour, at which divine service was daily celebrated. In this altar was inclosed the head of St. Swithin, with many other relics, which archbishop Alphage brought with him from Winchester. Passing from this altar westward, many steps led down to the choir and nave, which were both even, or upon the same level. At the bottom of the steps, there was a passage into the undercroft, under all the east part of the church. (fn. 13) At the east end of which, was an altar, in which was inclosed, according to old tradition, the head of St. Furseus. From hence by a winding passage, at the west end of it, was the tomb of St. Dunstan, (fn. 14) but separated from the undercroft by a strong stone wall; over the tomb was erected a monument, pyramid wife, and at the head of it an altar, (fn. 15) for the mattin service. Between these steps, or passage into the undercroft and the nave, was the choir, (fn. 16) which was separated from the nave by a fair and decent partition, to keep off the crowds of people that usually were in the body of the church, so that the singing of the chanters in the choir might not be disturbed. About the middle of the length of the nave, were two towers or steeples, built without the walls; one on the south, and the other on the north side. In the former was the altar of St. Gregory, where was an entrance into the church by the south door, and where law controversies and pleas concerning secular matters were exercised. (fn. 17) In the latter, or north tower, was a passage for the monks into the church, from the monastery; here were the cloysters, where the novices were instructed in their religious rules and offices, and where the monks conversed together. In this tower was the altar of St. Martin. At the west end of the church was a chapel, dedicated to the blessed Virgin Mary, to which there was an ascent by steps, and at the east end of it an altar, dedicated to her, in which was inclosed the head of St. Astroburta the Virgin; and at the western part of it was the archbishop's pontifical chair, made of large stones, compacted together with mortar; a fair piece of work, and placed at a convenient distance from the altar, close to the wall of the church. (fn. 18)
To return now to archbishop Lanfranc, who was sent for from Normandy in 1073, being the fourth year of the Conqueror's reign, to fill this see, a time, when a man of a noble spirit, equal to the laborious task he was to undertake, was wanting especially for this church; and that he was such, the several great works which were performed by him, were incontestable proofs, as well as of his great and generous mind. At the first sight of the ruinous condition of this church, says the historian, the archbishop was struck with astonishment, and almost despaired of seeing that and the monastery re edified; but his care and perseverance raised both in all its parts anew, and that in a novel and more magnificent kind and form of structure, than had been hardly in any place before made use of in this kingdom, which made it a precedent and pattern to succeeding structures of this kind; (fn. 19) and new monasteries and churches were built after the example of it; for it should be observed, that before the coming of the Normans most of the churches and monasteries in this kingdom were of wood; (all the monasteries in my realm, says king Edgar, in his charter to the abbey of Malmesbury, dated anno 974, to the outward sight are nothing but worm-eaten and rotten timber and boards) but after the Norman conquest, such timber fabrics grew out of use, and gave place to stone buildings raised upon arches; a form of structure introduced into general use by that nation, and in these parts surnished with stone from Caen, in Normandy. (fn. 20) After this fashion archbishop Lanfranc rebuilt the whole church from the foundation, with the palace and monastery, the wall which encompassed the court, and all the offices belonging to the monastery within the wall, finishing the whole nearly within the compass of seven years; (fn. 21) besides which, he furnished the church with ornaments and rich vestments; after which, the whole being perfected, he altered the name of it, by a dedication of it to the Holy Trinity; whereas, before it was called the church of our Saviour, or Christ-church, and from the above time it bore (as by Domesday book appears) the name of the church of the Holy Trinity; this new church being built on the same spot on which the antient one stood, though on a far different model.
After Lanfranc's death, archbishop Anselm succeeded in the year 1093, to the see of Canterbury, and must be esteemed a principal benefactor to this church; for though his time was perplexed with a continued series of troubles, of which both banishment and poverty made no small part, which in a great measure prevented him from bestowing that cost on his church, which he would otherwise have done, yet it was through his patronage and protection, and through his care and persuasions, that the fabric of it, begun and perfected by his predecessor, became enlarged and rose to still greater splendor. (fn. 22)
In order to carry this forward, upon the vacancy of the priory, he constituted Ernulph and Conrad, the first in 1104, the latter in 1108, priors of this church; to whose care, being men of generous and noble minds, and of singular skill in these matters, he, during his troubles, not only committed the management of this work, but of all his other concerns during his absence.
Probably archbishop Anselm, on being recalled from banishment on king Henry's accession to the throne, had pulled down that part of the church built by Lanfranc, from the great tower in the middle of it to the east end, intending to rebuild it upon a still larger and more magnificent plan; when being borne down by the king's displeasure, he intrusted prior Ernulph with the work, who raised up the building with such splendor, says Malmesbury, that the like was not to be seen in all England; (fn. 23) but the short time Ernulph continued in this office did not permit him to see his undertaking finished. (fn. 24) This was left to his successor Conrad, who, as the obituary of Christ church informs us, by his great industry, magnificently perfected the choir, which his predecessor had left unfinished, (fn. 25) adorning it with curious pictures, and enriching it with many precious ornaments. (fn. 26)
This great undertaking was not entirely compleated at the death of archbishop Anselm, which happened in 1109, anno 9 Henry I. nor indeed for the space of five years afterwards, during which the see of Canterbury continued vacant; when being finished, in honour of its builder, and on account of its more than ordinary beauty, it gained the name of the glorious choir of Conrad. (fn. 27)
After the see of Canterbury had continued thus vacant for five years, Ralph, or as some call him, Rodulph, bishop of Rochester, was translated to it in the year 1114, at whose coming to it, the church was dedicated anew to the Holy Trinity, the name which had been before given to it by Lanfranc. (fn. 28) The only particular description we have of this church when thus finished, is from Gervas, the monk of this monastery, and that proves imperfect, as to the choir of Lanfranc, which had been taken down soon after his death; (fn. 29) the following is his account of the nave, or western part of it below the choir, being that which had been erected by archbishop Lanfranc, as has been before mentioned. From him we learn, that the west end, where the chapel of the Virgin Mary stood before, was now adorned with two stately towers, on the top of which were gilded pinnacles. The nave or body was supported by eight pair of pillars. At the east end of the nave, on the north side, was an oratory, dedicated in honor to the blessed Virgin, in lieu, I suppose, of the chapel, that had in the former church been dedicated to her at the west end. Between the nave and the choir there was built a great tower or steeple, as it were in the centre of the whole fabric; (fn. 30) under this tower was erected the altar of the Holy Cross; over a partition, which separated this tower from the nave, a beam was laid across from one side to the other of the church; upon the middle of this beam was fixed a great cross, between the images of the Virgin Mary and St. John, and between two cherubims. The pinnacle on the top of this tower, was a gilded cherub, and hence it was called the angel steeple; a name it is frequently called by at this day. (fn. 31)
This great tower had on each side a cross isle, called the north and south wings, which were uniform, of the same model and dimensions; each of them had a strong pillar in the middle for a support to the roof, and each of them had two doors or passages, by which an entrance was open to the east parts of the church. At one of these doors there was a descent by a few steps into the undercroft; at the other, there was an ascent by many steps into the upper parts of the church, that is, the choir, and the isles on each side of it. Near every one of these doors or passages, an altar was erected; at the upper door in the south wing, there was an altar in honour of All Saints; and at the lower door there was one of St. Michael; and before this altar on the south side was buried archbishop Fleologild; and on the north side, the holy Virgin Siburgis, whom St. Dunstan highly admired for her sanctity. In the north isle, by the upper door, was the altar of St. Blaze; and by the lower door, that of St. Benedict. In this wing had been interred four archbishops, Adelm and Ceolnoth, behind the altar, and Egelnoth and Wlfelm before it. At the entrance into this wing, Rodulph and his successor William Corboil, both archbishops, were buried. (fn. 32)
Hence, he continues, we go up by some steps into the great tower, and before us there is a door and steps leading down into the south wing, and on the right hand a pair of folding doors, with stairs going down into the nave of the church; but without turning to any of these, let us ascend eastward, till by several more steps we come to the west end of Conrad's choir; being now at the entrance of the choir, Gervas tells us, that he neither saw the choir built by Lanfranc, nor found it described by any one; that Eadmer had made mention of it, without giving any account of it, as he had done of the old church, the reason of which appears to be, that Lanfranc's choir did not long survive its founder, being pulled down as before-mentioned, by archbishop Anselm; so that it could not stand more than twenty years; therefore the want of a particular description of it will appear no great defect in the history of this church, especially as the deficiency is here supplied by Gervas's full relation of the new choir of Conrad, built instead of it; of which, whoever desires to know the whole architecture and model observed in the fabric, the order, number, height and form of the pillars and windows, may know the whole of it from him. The roof of it, he tells us, (fn. 33) was beautified with curious paintings representing heaven; (fn. 34) in several respects it was agreeable to the present choir, the stalls were large and framed of carved wood. In the middle of it, there hung a gilded crown, on which were placed four and twenty tapers of wax. From the choir an ascent of three steps led to the presbiterium, or place for the presbiters; here, he says, it would be proper to stop a little and take notice of the high altar, which was dedicated to the name of CHRIST. It was placed between two other altars, the one of St. Dunstan, the other of St. Alphage; at the east corners of the high altar were fixed two pillars of wood, beautified with silver and gold; upon these pillars was placed a beam, adorned with gold, which reached across the church, upon it there were placed the glory, (fn. 35) the images of St. Dunstan and St. Alphage, and seven chests or coffers overlaid with gold, full of the relics of many saints. Between those pillars was a cross gilded all over, and upon the upper beam of the cross were set sixty bright crystals.
Beyond this, by an ascent of eight steps towards the east, behind the altar, was the archiepiscopal throne, which Gervas calls the patriarchal chair, made of one stone; in this chair, according to the custom of the church, the archbishop used to sit, upon principal festivals, in his pontifical ornaments, whilst the solemn offices of religion were celebrated, until the consecration of the host, when he came down to the high altar, and there performed the solemnity of consecration. Still further, eastward, behind the patriarchal chair, (fn. 36) was a chapel in the front of the whole church, in which was an altar, dedicated to the Holy Trinity; behind which were laid the bones of two archbishops, Odo of Canterbury, and Wilfrid of York; by this chapel on the south side near the wall of the church, was laid the body of archbishop Lanfranc, and on the north side, the body of archbishop Theobald. Here it is to be observed, that under the whole east part of the church, from the angel steeple, there was an undercrost or crypt, (fn. 37) in which were several altars, chapels and sepulchres; under the chapel of the Trinity before-mentioned, were two altars, on the south side, the altar of St. Augustine, the apostle of the English nation, by which archbishop Athelred was interred. On the north side was the altar of St. John Baptist, by which was laid the body of archbishop Eadsin; under the high altar was the chapel and altar of the blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the whole undercroft was dedicated.
To return now, he continues, to the place where the bresbyterium and choir meet, where on each side there was a cross isle (as was to be seen in his time) which might be called the upper south and north wings; on the east side of each of these wings were two half circular recesses or nooks in the wall, arched over after the form of porticoes. Each of them had an altar, and there was the like number of altars under them in the crost. In the north wing, the north portico had the altar of St. Martin, by which were interred the bodies of two archbishops, Wlfred on the right, and Living on the left hand; under it in the croft, was the altar of St. Mary Magdalen. The other portico in this wing, had the altar of St. Stephen, and by it were buried two archbishops, Athelard on the left hand, and Cuthbert on the right; in the croft under it, was the altar of St. Nicholas. In the south wing, the north portico had the altar of St. John the Evangelist, and by it the bodies of Æthelgar and Aluric, archbishops, were laid. In the croft under it was the altar of St. Paulinus, by which the body of archbishop Siricius was interred. In the south portico was the altar of St. Gregory, by which were laid the corps of the two archbishops Bregwin and Plegmund. In the croft under it was the altar of St. Owen, archbishop of Roan, and underneath in the croft, not far from it the altar of St. Catherine.
Passing from these cross isles eastward there were two towers, one on the north, the other on the south side of the church. In the tower on the north side was the altar of St. Andrew, which gave name to the tower; under it, in the croft, was the altar of the Holy Innocents; the tower on the south side had the altar of St. Peter and St. Paul, behind which the body of St. Anselm was interred, which afterwards gave name both to the altar and tower (fn. 38) (now called St. Anselm's). The wings or isles on each side of the choir had nothing in particular to be taken notice of.— Thus far Gervas, from whose description we in particular learn, where several of the bodies of the old archbishops were deposited, and probably the ashes of some of them remain in the same places to this day.
As this building, deservedly called the glorious choir of Conrad, was a magnificent work, so the undertaking of it at that time will appear almost beyond example, especially when the several circumstances of it are considered; but that it was carried forward at the archbishop's cost, exceeds all belief. It was in the discouraging reign of king William Rufus, a prince notorious in the records of history, for all manner of sacrilegious rapine, that archbishop Anselm was promoted to this see; when he found the lands and revenues of this church so miserably wasted and spoiled, that there was hardly enough left for his bare subsistence; who, in the first years that he sat in the archiepiscopal chair, struggled with poverty, wants and continual vexations through the king's displeasure, (fn. 39) and whose three next years were spent in banishment, during all which time he borrowed money for his present maintenance; who being called home by king Henry I. at his coming to the crown, laboured to pay the debts he had contracted during the time of his banishment, and instead of enjoying that tranquility and ease he hoped for, was, within two years afterwards, again sent into banishment upon a fresh displeasure conceived against him by the king, who then seized upon all the revenues of the archbishopric, (fn. 40) which he retained in his own hands for no less than four years.
Under these hard circumstances, it would have been surprizing indeed, that the archbishop should have been able to carry on so great a work, and yet we are told it, as a truth, by the testimonies of history; but this must surely be understood with the interpretation of his having been the patron, protector and encourager, rather than the builder of this work, which he entrusted to the care and management of the priors Ernulph and Conrad, and sanctioned their employing, as Lanfranc had done before, the revenues and stock of the church to this use. (fn. 41)
In this state as above-mentioned, without any thing material happening to it, this church continued till about the year 1130, anno 30 Henry I. when it seems to have suffered some damage by a fire; (fn. 42) but how much, there is no record left to inform us; however it could not be of any great account, for it was sufficiently repaired, and that mostly at the cost of archbishop Corboil, who then sat in the chair of this see, (fn. 43) before the 4th of May that year, on which day, being Rogation Sunday, the bishops performed the dedication of it with great splendor and magnificence, such, says Gervas, col. 1664, as had not been heard of since the dedication of the temple of Solomon; the king, the queen, David, king of Scots, all the archbishops, and the nobility of both kingdoms being present at it, when this church's former name was restored again, being henceforward commonly called Christ-church. (fn. 44)
Among the manuscripts of Trinity college library, in Cambridge, in a very curious triple psalter of St. Jerome, in Latin, written by the monk Eadwyn, whose picture is at the beginning of it, is a plan or drawing made by him, being an attempt towards a representation of this church and monastery, as they stood between the years 1130 and 1174; which makes it probable, that he was one of the monks of it, and the more so, as the drawing has not any kind of relation to the plalter or sacred hymns contained in the manuscript.
His plan, if so it may be called, for it is neither such, nor an upright, nor a prospect, and yet something of all together; but notwithstanding this rudeness of the draftsman, it shews very plain that it was intended for this church and priory, and gives us a very clear knowledge, more than we have been able to learn from any description we have besides, of what both were at the above period of time. (fn. 45)
Forty-four years after this dedication, on the 5th of September, anno 1174, being the 20th year of king Henry II.'s reign, a fire happened, which consumed great part of this stately edifice, namely, the whole choir, from the angel steeple to the east end of the church, together with the prior's lodgings, the chapel of the Virgin Mary, the infirmary, and some other offices belonging to the monastery; but the angel steeple, the lower cross isles, and the nave appear to have received no material injury from the flames. (fn. 46) The narrative of this accident is told by Gervas, the monk of Canterbury, so often quoted before, who was an eye witness of this calamity, as follows:
Three small houses in the city near the old gate of the monastery took fire by accident, a strong south wind carried the flakes of fire to the top of the church, and lodged them between the joints of the lead, driving them to the timbers under it; this kindled a fire there, which was not discerned till the melted lead gave a free passage for the flames to appear above the church, and the wind gaining by this means a further power of increasing them, drove them inwardly, insomuch that the danger became immediately past all possibility of relief. The timber of the roof being all of it on fire, fell down into the choir, where the stalls of the manks, made of large pieces of carved wood, afforded plenty of fuel to the flames, and great part of the stone work, through the vehement heat of the fire, was so weakened, as to be brought to irreparable ruin, and besides the fabric itself, the many rich ornaments in the church were devoured by the flames.
The choir being thus laid in ashes, the monks removed from amidst the ruins, the bodies of the two saints, whom they called patrons of the church, the archbishops Dunstan and Alphage, and deposited them by the altar of the great cross, in the nave of the church; (fn. 47) and from this time they celebrated the daily religious offices in the oratory of the blessed Virgin Mary in the nave, and continued to do so for more than five years, when the choir being re edified, they returned to it again. (fn. 48)
Upon this destruction of the church, the prior and convent, without any delay, consulted on the most speedy and effectual method of rebuilding it, resolving to finish it in such a manner, as should surpass all the former choirs of it, as well in beauty as size and magnificence. To effect this, they sent for the most skilful architects that could be found either in France or England. These surveyed the walls and pillars, which remained standing, but they found great part of them so weakened by the fire, that they could no ways be built upon with any safety; and it was accordingly resolved, that such of them should be taken down; a whole year was spent in doing this, and in providing materials for the new building, for which they sent abroad for the best stone that could be procured; Gervas has given a large account, (fn. 49) how far this work advanced year by year; what methods and rules of architecture were observed, and other particulars relating to the rebuilding of this church; all which the curious reader may consult at his leisure; it will be sufficient to observe here, that the new building was larger in height and length, and more beautiful in every respect, than the choir of Conrad; for the roof was considerably advanced above what it was before, and was arched over with stone; whereas before it was composed of timber and boards. The capitals of the pillars were now beautified with different sculptures of carvework; whereas, they were before plain, and six pillars more were added than there were before. The former choir had but one triforium, or inner gallery, but now there were two made round it, and one in each side isle and three in the cross isles; before, there were no marble pillars, but such were now added to it in abundance. In forwarding this great work, the monks had spent eight years, when they could proceed no further for want of money; but a fresh supply coming in from the offerings at St. Thomas's tomb, so much more than was necessary for perfecting the repair they were engaged in, as encouraged them to set about a more grand design, which was to pull down the eastern extremity of the church, with the small chapel of the Holy Trinity adjoining to it, and to erect upon a stately undercroft, a most magnificent one instead of it, equally lofty with the roof of the church, and making a part of it, which the former one did not, except by a door into it; but this new chapel, which was dedicated likewise to the Holy Trinity, was not finished till some time after the rest of the church; at the east end of this chapel another handsome one, though small, was afterwards erected at the extremity of the whole building, since called Becket's crown, on purpose for an altar and the reception of some part of his relics; (fn. 50) further mention of which will be made hereafter.
The eastern parts of this church, as Mr. Gostling observes, have the appearance of much greater antiquity than what is generally allowed to them; and indeed if we examine the outside walls and the cross wings on each side of the choir, it will appear, that the whole of them was not rebuilt at the time the choir was, and that great part of them was suffered to remain, though altered, added to, and adapted as far as could be, to the new building erected at that time; the traces of several circular windows and other openings, which were then stopped up, removed, or altered, still appearing on the walls both of the isles and the cross wings, through the white-wash with which they are covered; and on the south side of the south isle, the vaulting of the roof as well as the triforium, which could not be contrived so as to be adjusted to the places of the upper windows, plainly shew it. To which may be added, that the base or foot of one of the westernmost large pillars of the choir on the north side, is strengthened with a strong iron band round it, by which it should seem to have been one of those pillars which had been weakened by the fire, but was judged of sufficient firmness, with this precaution, to remain for the use of the new fabric.
The outside of this part of the church is a corroborating proof of what has been mentioned above, as well in the method, as in the ornaments of the building.— The outside of it towards the south, from St. Michael's chapel eastward, is adorned with a range of small pillars, about six inches diameter, and about three feet high, some with santastic shasts and capitals, others with plain ones; these support little arches, which intersect each other; and this chain or girdle of pillars is continued round the small tower, the eastern cross isle and the chapel of St. Anselm, to the buildings added in honour of the Holy Trinity, and St. Thomas Becket, where they leave off. The casing of St. Michael's chapel has none of them, but the chapel of the Virgin Mary, answering to it on the north side of the church, not being fitted to the wall, shews some of them behind it; which seems as if they had been continued before, quite round the eastern parts of the church.
These pillars, which rise from about the level of the pavement, within the walls above them, are remarkably plain and bare of ornaments; but the tower above mentioned and its opposite, as soon as they rise clear of the building, are enriched with stories of this colonade, one above another, up to the platform from whence their spires rise; and the remains of the two larger towers eastward, called St. Anselm's, and that answering to it on the north side of the church, called St. Andrew's are decorated much after the same manner, as high as they remain at present.
At the time of the before-mentioned fire, which so fatally destroyed the upper part of this church, the undercrost, with the vaulting over it, seems to have remained entire, and unhurt by it.
The vaulting of the undercrost, on which the floor of the choir and eastern parts of the church is raised, is supported by pillars, whose capitals are as various and fantastical as those of the smaller ones described before, and so are their shafts, some being round, others canted, twisted, or carved, so that hardly any two of them are alike, except such as are quite plain.
These, I suppose, may be concluded to be of the same age, and if buildings in the same stile may be conjectured to be so from thence, the antiquity of this part of the church may be judged, though historians have left us in the dark in relation to it.
In Leland's Collectanea, there is an account and description of a vault under the chancel of the antient church of St. Peter, in Oxford, called Grymbald's crypt, being allowed by all, to have been built by him; (fn. 51) Grymbald was one of those great and accomplished men, whom king Alfred invited into England about the year 885, to assist him in restoring Christianity, learning and the liberal arts. (fn. 52) Those who compare the vaults or undercrost of the church of Canterbury, with the description and prints given of Grymbald's crypt, (fn. 53) will easily perceive, that two buildings could hardly have been erected more strongly resembling each other, except that this at Canterbury is larger, and more pro fusely decorated with variety of fancied ornaments, the shafts of several of the pillars here being twisted, or otherwise varied, and many of the captials exactly in the same grotesque taste as those in Grymbald's crypt. (fn. 54) Hence it may be supposed, that those whom archbishop Lanfranc employed as architects and designers of his building at Canterbury, took their model of it, at least of this part of it, from that crypt, and this undercrost now remaining is the same, as was originally built by him, as far eastward, as to that part which begins under the chapel of the Holy Trinity, where it appears to be of a later date, erected at the same time as the chapel. The part built by Lanfranc continues at this time as firm and entire, as it was at the very building of it, though upwards of seven hundred years old. (fn. 55)
But to return to the new building; though the church was not compleatly finished till the end of the year 1184, yet it was so far advanced towards it, that, in 1180, on April 19, being Easter eve, (fn. 56) the archbishop, prior and monks entered the new choir, with a solemn procession, singing Te Deum, for their happy return to it. Three days before which they had privately, by night, carried the bodies of St. Dunstan and St. Alphage to the places prepared for them near the high altar. The body likewise of queen Edive (which after the fire had been removed from the north cross isle, where it lay before, under a stately gilded shrine) to the altar of the great cross, was taken up, carried into the vestry, and thence to the altar of St. Martin, where it was placed under the coffin of archbishop Livinge. In the month of July following the altar of the Holy Trinity was demolished, and the bodies of those archbishops, which had been laid in that part of the church, were removed to other places. Odo's body was laid under St. Dunstan's and Wilfrid's under St. Alphage's; Lanfranc's was deposited nigh the altar of St. Martin, and Theobald's at that of the blessed Virgin, in the nave of the church, (fn. 57) under a marble tomb; and soon afterwards the two archbishops, on the right and left hand of archbishop Becket in the undercrost, were taken up and placed under the altar of St. Mary there. (fn. 58)
After a warning so terrible, as had lately been given, it seemed most necessary to provide against the danger of fire for the time to come; the flames, which had so lately destroyed a considerable part of the church and monastery, were caused by some small houses, which had taken fire at a small distance from the church.— There still remained some other houses near it, which belonged to the abbot and convent of St. Augustine; for these the monks of Christ-church created, by an exchange, which could not be effected till the king interposed, and by his royal authority, in a manner, compelled the abbot and convent to a composition for this purpose, which was dated in the year 1177, that was three years after the late fire of this church. (fn. 59)
These houses were immediately pulled down, and it proved a providential and an effectual means of preserving the church from the like calamity; for in the year 1180, on May 22, this new choir, being not then compleated, though it had been used the month be fore, as has been already mentioned, there happened a fire in the city, which burnt down many houses, and the flames bent their course towards the church, which was again in great danger; but the houses near it being taken away, the fire was stopped, and the church escaped being burnt again. (fn. 60)
Although there is no mention of a new dedication of the church at this time, yet the change made in the name of it has been thought by some to imply a formal solemnity of this kind, as it appears to have been from henceforth usually called the church of St. Thomas the Martyr, and to have continued so for above 350 years afterwards.
New names to churches, it is true. have been usually attended by formal consecrations of them; and had there been any such solemnity here, undoubtedly the same would not have passed by unnoticed by every historian, the circumstance of it must have been notorious, and the magnificence equal at least to the other dedications of this church, which have been constantly mentioned by them; but here was no need of any such ceremony, for although the general voice then burst forth to honour this church with the name of St. Thomas, the universal object of praise and adoration, then stiled the glorious martyr, yet it reached no further, for the name it had received at the former dedication, notwithstanding this common appellation of it, still remained in reality, and it still retained invariably in all records and writings, the name of Christ church only, as appears by many such remaining among the archives of the dean and chapter; and though on the seal of this church, which was changed about this time; the counter side of it had a representation of Becket's martyrdom, yet on the front of it was continued that of the church, and round it an inscription with the former name of Christ church; which seal remained in force till the dissolution of the priory.
It may not be improper to mention here some transactions, worthy of observation, relating to this favorite saint, which passed from the time of his being murdered, to that of his translation to the splendid shrine prepared for his relics.
Archbishop Thomas Becket was barbarously murdered in this church on Dec. 29, 1170, being the 16th year of king Henry II. and his body was privately buried towards the east end of the undercrost. The monks tell us, that about the Easter following, miracles began to be wrought by him, first at his tomb, then in the undercrost, and in every part of the whole fabric of the church; afterwards throughout England, and lastly, throughout the rest of the world. (fn. 61) The same of these miracles procured him the honour of a formal canonization from pope Alexander III. whose bull for that purpose is dated March 13, in the year 1172. (fn. 62) This declaration of the pope was soon known in all places, and the reports of his miracles were every where sounded abroad. (fn. 63)
Hereupon crowds of zealots, led on by a phrenzy of devotion, hastened to kneel at his tomb. In 1177, Philip, earl of Flanders, came hither for that purpose, when king Henry met and had a conference with him at Canterbury. (fn. 64) In June 1178, king Henry returning from Normandy, visited the sepulchre of this new saint; and in July following, William, archbishop of Rhemes, came from France, with a large retinue, to perform his vows to St. Thomas of Canterbury, where the king met him and received him honourably. In the year 1179, Lewis, king of France, came into England; before which neither he nor any of his predecessors had ever set foot in this kingdom. (fn. 65) He landed at Dover, where king Henry waited his arrival, and on August 23, the two kings came to Canterbury, with a great train of nobility of both nations, and were received with due honour and great joy, by the archbishop, with his com-provincial bishops, and the prior and the whole convent. (fn. 66)
King Lewis came in the manner and habit of a pilgrim, and was conducted to the tomb of St. Thomas by a solemn procession; he there offered his cup of gold and a royal precious stone, (fn. 67) and gave the convent a yearly rent for ever, of a hundred muids of wine, to be paid by himself and his successors; which grant was confirmed by his royal charter, under his seal, and delivered next day to the convent; (fn. 68) after he had staid here two, (fn. 69) or as others say, three days, (fn. 70) during which the oblations of gold and silver made were so great, that the relation of them almost exceeded credibility. (fn. 71) In 1181, king Henry, in his return from Normandy, again paid his devotions at this tomb. These visits were the early fruits of the adoration of the new sainted martyr, and these royal examples of kings and great persons were followed by multitudes, who crowded to present with full hands their oblations at his tomb.— Hence the convent was enabled to carry forward the building of the new choir, and they applied all this vast income to the fabric of the church, as the present case instantly required, for which they had the leave and consent of the archbishop, confirmed by the bulls of several succeeding popes. (fn. 72)
¶From the liberal oblations of these royal and noble personages at the tomb of St. Thomas, the expences of rebuilding the choir appear to have been in a great measure supplied, nor did their devotion and offerings to the new saint, after it was compleated, any ways abate, but, on the contrary, they daily increased; for in the year 1184, Philip, archbishop of Cologne, and Philip, earl of Flanders, came together to pay their vows at this tomb, and were met here by king Henry, who gave them an invitation to London. (fn. 73) In 1194, John, archbishop of Lions; in the year afterwards, John, archbishop of York; and in the year 1199, king John, performed their devotions at the foot of this tomb. (fn. 74) King Richard I. likewise, on his release from captivity in Germany, landing on the 30th of March at Sandwich, proceeded from thence, as an humble stranger on foot, towards Canterbury, to return his grateful thanks to God and St. Thomas for his release. (fn. 75) All these by name, with many nobles and multitudes of others, of all sorts and descriptions, visited the saint with humble adoration and rich oblations, whilst his body lay in the undercrost. In the mean time the chapel and altar at the upper part of the east end of the church, which had been formerly consecrated to the Holy Trinity, were demolished, and again prepared with great splendor, for the reception of this saint, who being now placed there, implanted his name not only on the chapel and altar, but on the whole church, which was from thenceforth known only by that of the church of St. Thomas the martyr.
On July 7, anno 1220, the remains of St. Thomas were translated from his tomb to his new shrine, with the greatest solemnity and rejoicings. Pandulph, the pope's legate, the archbishops of Canterbury and Rheims, and many bishops and abbots, carried the coffin on their shoulders, and placed it on the new shrine, and the king graced these solemnities with his royal presence. (fn. 76) The archbishop of Canterbury provided forage along all the road, between London and Canterbury, for the horses of all such as should come to them, and he caused several pipes and conduits to run with wine in different parts of the city. This, with the other expences arising during the time, was so great, that he left a debt on the see, which archbishop Boniface, his fourth successor in it, was hardly enabled to discharge.
¶The saint being now placed in his new repository, became the vain object of adoration to the deluded people, and afterwards numbers of licences were granted to strangers by the king, to visit this shrine. (fn. 77) The titles of glorious, of saint and martyr, were among those given to him; (fn. 78) such veneration had all people for his relics, that the religious of several cathedral churches and monasteries, used all their endeavours to obtain some of them, and thought themselves happy and rich in the possession of the smallest portion of them. (fn. 79) Besides this, there were erected and dedicated to his honour, many churches, chapels, altars and hospitals in different places, both in this kingdom and abroad. (fn. 80) Thus this saint, even whilst he lay in his obscure tomb in the undercroft, brought such large and constant supplies of money, as enabled the monks to finish this beautiful choir, and the eastern parts of the church; and when he was translated to the most exalted and honourable place in it, a still larger abundance of gain filled their coffers, which continued as a plentiful supply to them, from year to year, to the time of the reformation, and the final abolition of the priory itself.