Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

----------------------------------------------------

 

The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

----------------------------------------------------

 

The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

-------------------------------------------

 

The Church of St Mary and All Saints, Fotheringhay is a parish church in the Church of England in Fotheringhay, Northamptonshire. It is noted for containing a mausoleum to leading members of the Yorkist dynasty of the Wars of the Roses.

 

The work on the present church was begun by Edward III who also built a college as a cloister on the church's southern side. After completion in around 1430, a parish church of similar style was added to the western end of the collegiate church with work beginning in 1434. A local mason, William Horwood was contracted to build the nave, porch, and tower of this church for £300 for the Duke of York.[2] It is the parish church which still remains.

 

The large present church is named in honour of St Mary and All Saints, and has a distinctive tall tower dominating the local skyline. The church is Perpendicular in style and although only the nave, aisles and octagonal tower remain of the original building it is still in the best style of its period.[3] The tower is 78 feet (24 metres) high to the battlements, and is 116 feet (35 metres) high to the pinnacles of the octagon.[4]

 

The church has been described by Simon Jenkins as

 

float[ing] on its hill above the River Nene, a galleon of Perpendicular on a sea of corn.

 

The college continued to 1547, when it was seized by the Crown, along with all remaining chantries and colleges. The chancel was pulled down immediately after the college was granted to John Dudley, 1st Duke of Northumberland, by King Edward VI.[6] A grammar school was founded in its place which lasted until 1859.

 

Nearby Fotheringhay Castle was the principal home of two Dukes of York. Edward of Norwich, 2nd Duke of York, who was killed at the Battle of Agincourt in 1415 was buried in the church. He had earlier established a college for a master and twelve chaplains at the location. Edward's burial provided the basis for the later adoption of the church as a mausoleum to the Yorkist dynasty. In 1476 the church witnessed one of the most elaborate ceremonies of Edward IV's reign – the re-interment of the bodies of the king's father Richard Plantagenet, 3rd Duke of York and his younger brother Edmund, Earl of Rutland, who had been buried in a humble tomb at Pontefract. Father and son fell at the Battle of Wakefield on 30 December 1460.

 

Thomas Whiting, Chester Herald, has left a detailed account of the events:

 

on 24 July [1476] the bodies were exhumed, that of the Duke, "garbed in an ermine furred mantle and cap of maintenance, covered with a cloth of gold" lay in state under a hearse blazing with candles, guarded by an angel of silver, bearing a crown of gold as a reminder that by right the Duke had been a king. On its journey, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, with other lords and officers of arms, all dressed in mourning, followed the funeral chariot, drawn by six horses, with trappings of black, charged with the arms of France and England and preceded by a knight bearing the banner of the ducal arms. Fotheringhay was reached on 29 July, where members of the college and other ecclesiastics went forth to meet the cortege. At the entrance to the churchyard, King Edward waited, together with the Duke of Clarence, the Marquis of Dorset, Earl Rivers, Lord Hastings and other noblemen. Upon its arrival the King 'made obeisance to the body right humbly and put his hand on the body and kissed it, crying all the time.' The procession moved into the church where two hearses were waiting, one in the choir for the body of the Duke and one in the Lady Chapel for that of the Earl of Rutland, and after the King had retired to his 'closet' and the princes and officers of arms had stationed themselves around the hearses, masses were sung and the King's chamberlain offered for him seven pieces of cloth of gold 'which were laid in a cross on the body.' The next day three masses were sung, the Bishop of Lincoln preached a 'very noble sermon' and offerings were made by the Duke of Gloucester and other lords, of 'The Duke of York's coat of arms, of his shield, his sword, his helmet and his coursers on which rode Lord Ferrers in full armour, holding in his hand an axe reversed.' When the funeral was over, the people were admitted into the church and it is said that before the coffins were placed in the vault which had been built under the chancel, five thousand persons came to receive the alms, while four times that number partook of the dinner, served partly in the castle and partly in the King's tents and pavilions. The menu included capons, cygnets, herons, rabbits and so many good things that the bills for it amounted to more than three hundred pounds.

 

In 1495 the body of Cecily Neville, Duchess of York was laid to rest beside that of her husband the Duke of York, as her will directed. She bequeathed to the College

 

a square canopy, crymson cloth of gold, a chasuble, and two tunicles, and three copes of blue velvet, bordered, with three albs, three mass books, three grails and seven processioners.

 

After the choir of the church was destroyed in the Reformation during the sixteenth century, Elizabeth I ordered the removal of the smashed York tombs and created the present monuments to the third Duke and his wife around the altar.

 

The birthday of Richard III is commemorated annually by the Richard III Society by the placing of white roses in the church.

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Church_of_St_Mary_and_All_Saints,_F...

 

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As any experienced pub quizzer will be able to tell you, Cambridgeshire shares borders with more other counties than any other English county, and one of the pleasures of exploring its churches by bike is to occasionally pop over a border and cherry-pick some of the best churches nearby. I had long wanted to visit Fotheringhay in Northamptonshire, and it is only ten miles west of Peterborough, and so I thought why not? I could also take in its near neighbours Nassington and Warmington, both noted as interesting churches.

   

Fotheringhay is a haunted place. It is haunted by noble birth and violent death, by its pivotal importance as a place in 15th Century English politics, and by its desolation in later centuries - not to mention by one significant event in the last couple of years.

   

The view of the church from the south across the River Nene is one of the most famous views of a church in England - there can be few books about churches which do not include it. The tower is a spectacular wedding cake, the square stage surmounted by an octagonal bell stage. This is not an unusual arrangement in the area of the Nene and Ouse Valleys, but nowhere is it on such a scale and with such intricacy as this.

   

The nave is also vast, a great length of flying buttresses running above each aisle, and walls of glass, great perpendicular windows designed to let in light and drive out superstition. What you cannot see from across the river is that, behind the big oak tree, the church has no chancel.

   

Inside, it is a square box full of light divided by great arcades that march resolutely eastwards towards a large blank wall. Heraldic shields stand aloof up in the arcades, and the one fabulous spot of colour is the great pulpit nestled in the south arcade, another sign that this building was designed to assert the doctrine of the Holy Catholic Church. This place swallows sound and magnifies light. It is thrilling, awe-inspiring. What happened here?

   

In the medieval period, Fotheringhay Castle was the powerbase of the House of York. The church was built as a result of a bequest by Edward III, who died in 1370. It was complete by the 1430s, with a college of priests and a large nave for the Catholic devotions of the people.

   

Over the next century it would house the tombs of, among others, Edward of Norwich, 2nd Duke of York and grandson of Edward III who was killed in 1415 at Agincourt, and Richard Plantaganet, 3rd Duke of York, who was killed in the Battle of Wakefield in 1460. It was Richard's claim to the throne of England which had led to the Wars of the Roses. His decapitated head was gleefully displayed on a pike above Micklegate Bar in York by the victorious Lancastrian forces. Also killed in the battle was Richard's 17 year old son Edmund.

   

But the Lancastrian delight was shortlived, for by the following year Richard's eldest son had become King as Edward IV. He immediately arranged for the translation of the bodies of his father and brother from their common grave at Pontefract back to Fotheringhay.

   

It was recorded that on 24 July the bodies were exhumed, that of the Duke garbed in an ermine furred mantle and cap of maintenance, covered with a cloth of gold lay in state under a hearse blazing with candles, guarded by an angel of silver, bearing a crown of gold as a reminder that by right the Duke had been a king.

   

On its journey, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, with other lords and officers of arms, all dressed in mourning, followed the funeral chariot, drawn by six horses, with trappings of black, charged with the arms of France and England and preceded by a knight bearing the banner of the ducal arms.

   

Fotheringhay was reached on 29 July, where members of the college and other ecclesiastics went forth to meet the cortege. At the entrance to the churchyard, King Edward waited, together with the Duke of Clarence, the Marquis of Dorset, Earl Rivers, Lord Hastings and other noblemen. Upon its arrival the King made obeisance to the body right humbly and put his hand on the body and kissed it, crying all the time.

   

The procession moved into the church where two hearses were waiting, one in the choir for the body of the Duke and one in the Lady Chapel for that of the Earl of Rutland, and after the King had retired to his closet and the princes and officers of arms had stationed themselves around the hearses, masses were sung and the King's chamberlain offered for him seven pieces of cloth of gold 'which were laid in a cross on the body.

   

The sorrowing Edward IV donated the great pulpit for the proclamation of the Catholic faith. And then in 1483 he died. He was succeeded as tradition required by his son, the 12 year old Edward V. But three months after his father's death the younger Edward was also dead, in mysterious circumstances. He was succeeded by his uncle, who had been born here in Fotheringhay in 1452, and who would reign, albeit briefly, as Richard III.

   

Was Richard III really the villain that history has made him out to be? Did he really murder his nephew to achieve the throne? Within two years he had also been killed at the Battle of Bosworth Field, and the Lancastrians were finally triumphant. Henry VII established the Tudor dynasty, and, as we all know, history is written by the victors, not by the losers.

   

But Fotheringhay had one more dramatic scene to set in English history before settling back into obscurity, and this time it involved the Tudors. In September 1586 a noble woman of middle years arrived at Fotheringhay Castle under special guard, and was imprisoned here. Her name was Mary, and she was on trial for treason.

   

It is clear today that most of the evidence was entirely fictional, but the powers of the day had good reason to fear Mary, for she had what appeared to many to be a legitimate claim to the English throne. She was the daughter of James V of Scotland, and had herself become Queen of Scotland at the age of just six weeks. She spent her childhood and youth in France while regents governed the nation in her stead, and she married Francis, the Dauphin of France, who became King of France in 1559. Briefly, Mary was both Queen of Scotland and Queen Consort of France, but in 1561 Francis died, and Mary returned to Scotland to govern her own country.

   

But there was a problem. Mary was a Catholic. Scotland had led the way in the English-speaking Reformation with a particularly firebrand form of Calvinism, and the protestant merchants of Edinburgh, Glasgow, Aberdeen and Dundee were aghast at the prospect of a Catholic monarch.

   

And there was a further problem. Scotland was currently at peace with its neighbour England, where Queen Elizabeth I had brought some stability to the troubled country. But the Catholic Church did not recognise Elizabeth as the rightful monarch of England, because it was considered that her father Henry VIII's divorce from his first wife Katherine of Aragon was invalid. As he had divorced Katherine to marry Elizabeth's mother Ann Boleyn, Catholics considered that the rightful line of succession had passed horizontally from Henry VIII to his deceased elder sister and then on to her descendants, the most senior of whom was Mary, Queen of Scotland.

   

Mary remarried in Scotland, but her husband was murdered, and she was forced to abdicate her throne in favour of their one year old baby. He would be brought up by protestant regents and advisors, and would reign Scotland as James VI. His protestant faith allowed the English crown to recognise the line's legitimate claims, and in 1603 James VI of Scotland became James I of England, the first monarch to govern both nations.

   

But that was all in the future. After her abdication, Mary fled south to seek the protection of her cousin Elizabeth. She spent most of the next 18 years in protective custody. A succession of plots and conspiracies implicated her, and finally on 8th February 1587, at the age of 44, Mary Queen of Scots was beheaded at Fotheringhay Castle.

   

One of her son James's first acts on ascending the English throne was to order that the castle where his mother had been shamefully imprisoned and executed be razed to the ground.

   

The chancel of Fotheringhay church and its College of Priests were already gone by then, demolished after the Reformation, leaving the York tombs exposed to the elements. it is said that Elizabeth herself, on a visit to Fotheringhay in 1566, insisted that they be brought back into the church.

   

Fotheringhay church settled back into obscurity. During the long 18th Century sleep of the Church of England it suffered neglect and disuse, but was restored well in the 19th Century. A chapel was designated for the memory of the York dynasty during the 20th Century, a sensitive issue for the Church of England which does not recognise prayers for the dead, but they can happen here in the Catholic tradition.

   

Today, the population of Fotheringhay cannot be much more than a hundred, an obscure backwater in remote north-east Northamptonshire, consisting of little more than its grand church set above the water meadows of the River Nene. But there was one more day in the public light to come.

   

In 2012, an archaeological dig in the centre of the city of Leicester, some 30 miles from here, uncovered a skeleton which had been buried in such a manner that it seemed it might be the dead King Richard III. Carbon dating and DNA matching proved that it was so. A controversy erupted about where the dead king might be reburied. Leicester Cathedral seemed the obvious place, although pompous claims were made by, among others, the MP for York, for him to be buried in York Minster. But there was also a case for the remains being returned here, to the quiet peace of Fotheringhay.

   

In the event reason held sway and Richard was reburied in Leicester, but Fotheringhay church, along with Leicester Cathedral, York Minster and Westminster Abbey, was one of four sites to host books of remembrance for Richard III.

   

In June 2015 I was surprised to find that the book here was still in use at the west end of the nave, and is still regularly signed by people. Perhaps they think it is the visitors book.

 

Simon Knott. June 2015.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/19327047848/in/photo...

  

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

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Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

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The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

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The Church of St Mary and All Saints, Fotheringhay is a parish church in the Church of England in Fotheringhay, Northamptonshire. It is noted for containing a mausoleum to leading members of the Yorkist dynasty of the Wars of the Roses.

 

The work on the present church was begun by Edward III who also built a college as a cloister on the church's southern side. After completion in around 1430, a parish church of similar style was added to the western end of the collegiate church with work beginning in 1434. A local mason, William Horwood was contracted to build the nave, porch, and tower of this church for £300 for the Duke of York.[2] It is the parish church which still remains.

 

The large present church is named in honour of St Mary and All Saints, and has a distinctive tall tower dominating the local skyline. The church is Perpendicular in style and although only the nave, aisles and octagonal tower remain of the original building it is still in the best style of its period.[3] The tower is 78 feet (24 metres) high to the battlements, and is 116 feet (35 metres) high to the pinnacles of the octagon.[4]

 

The church has been described by Simon Jenkins as

 

float[ing] on its hill above the River Nene, a galleon of Perpendicular on a sea of corn.

 

The college continued to 1547, when it was seized by the Crown, along with all remaining chantries and colleges. The chancel was pulled down immediately after the college was granted to John Dudley, 1st Duke of Northumberland, by King Edward VI.[6] A grammar school was founded in its place which lasted until 1859.

 

Nearby Fotheringhay Castle was the principal home of two Dukes of York. Edward of Norwich, 2nd Duke of York, who was killed at the Battle of Agincourt in 1415 was buried in the church. He had earlier established a college for a master and twelve chaplains at the location. Edward's burial provided the basis for the later adoption of the church as a mausoleum to the Yorkist dynasty. In 1476 the church witnessed one of the most elaborate ceremonies of Edward IV's reign – the re-interment of the bodies of the king's father Richard Plantagenet, 3rd Duke of York and his younger brother Edmund, Earl of Rutland, who had been buried in a humble tomb at Pontefract. Father and son fell at the Battle of Wakefield on 30 December 1460.

 

Thomas Whiting, Chester Herald, has left a detailed account of the events:

 

on 24 July [1476] the bodies were exhumed, that of the Duke, "garbed in an ermine furred mantle and cap of maintenance, covered with a cloth of gold" lay in state under a hearse blazing with candles, guarded by an angel of silver, bearing a crown of gold as a reminder that by right the Duke had been a king. On its journey, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, with other lords and officers of arms, all dressed in mourning, followed the funeral chariot, drawn by six horses, with trappings of black, charged with the arms of France and England and preceded by a knight bearing the banner of the ducal arms. Fotheringhay was reached on 29 July, where members of the college and other ecclesiastics went forth to meet the cortege. At the entrance to the churchyard, King Edward waited, together with the Duke of Clarence, the Marquis of Dorset, Earl Rivers, Lord Hastings and other noblemen. Upon its arrival the King 'made obeisance to the body right humbly and put his hand on the body and kissed it, crying all the time.' The procession moved into the church where two hearses were waiting, one in the choir for the body of the Duke and one in the Lady Chapel for that of the Earl of Rutland, and after the King had retired to his 'closet' and the princes and officers of arms had stationed themselves around the hearses, masses were sung and the King's chamberlain offered for him seven pieces of cloth of gold 'which were laid in a cross on the body.' The next day three masses were sung, the Bishop of Lincoln preached a 'very noble sermon' and offerings were made by the Duke of Gloucester and other lords, of 'The Duke of York's coat of arms, of his shield, his sword, his helmet and his coursers on which rode Lord Ferrers in full armour, holding in his hand an axe reversed.' When the funeral was over, the people were admitted into the church and it is said that before the coffins were placed in the vault which had been built under the chancel, five thousand persons came to receive the alms, while four times that number partook of the dinner, served partly in the castle and partly in the King's tents and pavilions. The menu included capons, cygnets, herons, rabbits and so many good things that the bills for it amounted to more than three hundred pounds.

 

In 1495 the body of Cecily Neville, Duchess of York was laid to rest beside that of her husband the Duke of York, as her will directed. She bequeathed to the College

 

a square canopy, crymson cloth of gold, a chasuble, and two tunicles, and three copes of blue velvet, bordered, with three albs, three mass books, three grails and seven processioners.

 

After the choir of the church was destroyed in the Reformation during the sixteenth century, Elizabeth I ordered the removal of the smashed York tombs and created the present monuments to the third Duke and his wife around the altar.

 

The birthday of Richard III is commemorated annually by the Richard III Society by the placing of white roses in the church.

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Church_of_St_Mary_and_All_Saints,_F...

 

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As any experienced pub quizzer will be able to tell you, Cambridgeshire shares borders with more other counties than any other English county, and one of the pleasures of exploring its churches by bike is to occasionally pop over a border and cherry-pick some of the best churches nearby. I had long wanted to visit Fotheringhay in Northamptonshire, and it is only ten miles west of Peterborough, and so I thought why not? I could also take in its near neighbours Nassington and Warmington, both noted as interesting churches.

   

Fotheringhay is a haunted place. It is haunted by noble birth and violent death, by its pivotal importance as a place in 15th Century English politics, and by its desolation in later centuries - not to mention by one significant event in the last couple of years.

   

The view of the church from the south across the River Nene is one of the most famous views of a church in England - there can be few books about churches which do not include it. The tower is a spectacular wedding cake, the square stage surmounted by an octagonal bell stage. This is not an unusual arrangement in the area of the Nene and Ouse Valleys, but nowhere is it on such a scale and with such intricacy as this.

   

The nave is also vast, a great length of flying buttresses running above each aisle, and walls of glass, great perpendicular windows designed to let in light and drive out superstition. What you cannot see from across the river is that, behind the big oak tree, the church has no chancel.

   

Inside, it is a square box full of light divided by great arcades that march resolutely eastwards towards a large blank wall. Heraldic shields stand aloof up in the arcades, and the one fabulous spot of colour is the great pulpit nestled in the south arcade, another sign that this building was designed to assert the doctrine of the Holy Catholic Church. This place swallows sound and magnifies light. It is thrilling, awe-inspiring. What happened here?

   

In the medieval period, Fotheringhay Castle was the powerbase of the House of York. The church was built as a result of a bequest by Edward III, who died in 1370. It was complete by the 1430s, with a college of priests and a large nave for the Catholic devotions of the people.

   

Over the next century it would house the tombs of, among others, Edward of Norwich, 2nd Duke of York and grandson of Edward III who was killed in 1415 at Agincourt, and Richard Plantaganet, 3rd Duke of York, who was killed in the Battle of Wakefield in 1460. It was Richard's claim to the throne of England which had led to the Wars of the Roses. His decapitated head was gleefully displayed on a pike above Micklegate Bar in York by the victorious Lancastrian forces. Also killed in the battle was Richard's 17 year old son Edmund.

   

But the Lancastrian delight was shortlived, for by the following year Richard's eldest son had become King as Edward IV. He immediately arranged for the translation of the bodies of his father and brother from their common grave at Pontefract back to Fotheringhay.

   

It was recorded that on 24 July the bodies were exhumed, that of the Duke garbed in an ermine furred mantle and cap of maintenance, covered with a cloth of gold lay in state under a hearse blazing with candles, guarded by an angel of silver, bearing a crown of gold as a reminder that by right the Duke had been a king.

   

On its journey, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, with other lords and officers of arms, all dressed in mourning, followed the funeral chariot, drawn by six horses, with trappings of black, charged with the arms of France and England and preceded by a knight bearing the banner of the ducal arms.

   

Fotheringhay was reached on 29 July, where members of the college and other ecclesiastics went forth to meet the cortege. At the entrance to the churchyard, King Edward waited, together with the Duke of Clarence, the Marquis of Dorset, Earl Rivers, Lord Hastings and other noblemen. Upon its arrival the King made obeisance to the body right humbly and put his hand on the body and kissed it, crying all the time.

   

The procession moved into the church where two hearses were waiting, one in the choir for the body of the Duke and one in the Lady Chapel for that of the Earl of Rutland, and after the King had retired to his closet and the princes and officers of arms had stationed themselves around the hearses, masses were sung and the King's chamberlain offered for him seven pieces of cloth of gold 'which were laid in a cross on the body.

   

The sorrowing Edward IV donated the great pulpit for the proclamation of the Catholic faith. And then in 1483 he died. He was succeeded as tradition required by his son, the 12 year old Edward V. But three months after his father's death the younger Edward was also dead, in mysterious circumstances. He was succeeded by his uncle, who had been born here in Fotheringhay in 1452, and who would reign, albeit briefly, as Richard III.

   

Was Richard III really the villain that history has made him out to be? Did he really murder his nephew to achieve the throne? Within two years he had also been killed at the Battle of Bosworth Field, and the Lancastrians were finally triumphant. Henry VII established the Tudor dynasty, and, as we all know, history is written by the victors, not by the losers.

   

But Fotheringhay had one more dramatic scene to set in English history before settling back into obscurity, and this time it involved the Tudors. In September 1586 a noble woman of middle years arrived at Fotheringhay Castle under special guard, and was imprisoned here. Her name was Mary, and she was on trial for treason.

   

It is clear today that most of the evidence was entirely fictional, but the powers of the day had good reason to fear Mary, for she had what appeared to many to be a legitimate claim to the English throne. She was the daughter of James V of Scotland, and had herself become Queen of Scotland at the age of just six weeks. She spent her childhood and youth in France while regents governed the nation in her stead, and she married Francis, the Dauphin of France, who became King of France in 1559. Briefly, Mary was both Queen of Scotland and Queen Consort of France, but in 1561 Francis died, and Mary returned to Scotland to govern her own country.

   

But there was a problem. Mary was a Catholic. Scotland had led the way in the English-speaking Reformation with a particularly firebrand form of Calvinism, and the protestant merchants of Edinburgh, Glasgow, Aberdeen and Dundee were aghast at the prospect of a Catholic monarch.

   

And there was a further problem. Scotland was currently at peace with its neighbour England, where Queen Elizabeth I had brought some stability to the troubled country. But the Catholic Church did not recognise Elizabeth as the rightful monarch of England, because it was considered that her father Henry VIII's divorce from his first wife Katherine of Aragon was invalid. As he had divorced Katherine to marry Elizabeth's mother Ann Boleyn, Catholics considered that the rightful line of succession had passed horizontally from Henry VIII to his deceased elder sister and then on to her descendants, the most senior of whom was Mary, Queen of Scotland.

   

Mary remarried in Scotland, but her husband was murdered, and she was forced to abdicate her throne in favour of their one year old baby. He would be brought up by protestant regents and advisors, and would reign Scotland as James VI. His protestant faith allowed the English crown to recognise the line's legitimate claims, and in 1603 James VI of Scotland became James I of England, the first monarch to govern both nations.

   

But that was all in the future. After her abdication, Mary fled south to seek the protection of her cousin Elizabeth. She spent most of the next 18 years in protective custody. A succession of plots and conspiracies implicated her, and finally on 8th February 1587, at the age of 44, Mary Queen of Scots was beheaded at Fotheringhay Castle.

   

One of her son James's first acts on ascending the English throne was to order that the castle where his mother had been shamefully imprisoned and executed be razed to the ground.

   

The chancel of Fotheringhay church and its College of Priests were already gone by then, demolished after the Reformation, leaving the York tombs exposed to the elements. it is said that Elizabeth herself, on a visit to Fotheringhay in 1566, insisted that they be brought back into the church.

   

Fotheringhay church settled back into obscurity. During the long 18th Century sleep of the Church of England it suffered neglect and disuse, but was restored well in the 19th Century. A chapel was designated for the memory of the York dynasty during the 20th Century, a sensitive issue for the Church of England which does not recognise prayers for the dead, but they can happen here in the Catholic tradition.

   

Today, the population of Fotheringhay cannot be much more than a hundred, an obscure backwater in remote north-east Northamptonshire, consisting of little more than its grand church set above the water meadows of the River Nene. But there was one more day in the public light to come.

   

In 2012, an archaeological dig in the centre of the city of Leicester, some 30 miles from here, uncovered a skeleton which had been buried in such a manner that it seemed it might be the dead King Richard III. Carbon dating and DNA matching proved that it was so. A controversy erupted about where the dead king might be reburied. Leicester Cathedral seemed the obvious place, although pompous claims were made by, among others, the MP for York, for him to be buried in York Minster. But there was also a case for the remains being returned here, to the quiet peace of Fotheringhay.

   

In the event reason held sway and Richard was reburied in Leicester, but Fotheringhay church, along with Leicester Cathedral, York Minster and Westminster Abbey, was one of four sites to host books of remembrance for Richard III.

   

In June 2015 I was surprised to find that the book here was still in use at the west end of the nave, and is still regularly signed by people. Perhaps they think it is the visitors book.

 

Simon Knott. June 2015.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/19327047848/in/photo...

  

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

-------------------------------------------

 

The Church of St Mary and All Saints, Fotheringhay is a parish church in the Church of England in Fotheringhay, Northamptonshire. It is noted for containing a mausoleum to leading members of the Yorkist dynasty of the Wars of the Roses.

 

The work on the present church was begun by Edward III who also built a college as a cloister on the church's southern side. After completion in around 1430, a parish church of similar style was added to the western end of the collegiate church with work beginning in 1434. A local mason, William Horwood was contracted to build the nave, porch, and tower of this church for £300 for the Duke of York.[2] It is the parish church which still remains.

 

The large present church is named in honour of St Mary and All Saints, and has a distinctive tall tower dominating the local skyline. The church is Perpendicular in style and although only the nave, aisles and octagonal tower remain of the original building it is still in the best style of its period.[3] The tower is 78 feet (24 metres) high to the battlements, and is 116 feet (35 metres) high to the pinnacles of the octagon.[4]

 

The church has been described by Simon Jenkins as

 

float[ing] on its hill above the River Nene, a galleon of Perpendicular on a sea of corn.

 

The college continued to 1547, when it was seized by the Crown, along with all remaining chantries and colleges. The chancel was pulled down immediately after the college was granted to John Dudley, 1st Duke of Northumberland, by King Edward VI.[6] A grammar school was founded in its place which lasted until 1859.

 

Nearby Fotheringhay Castle was the principal home of two Dukes of York. Edward of Norwich, 2nd Duke of York, who was killed at the Battle of Agincourt in 1415 was buried in the church. He had earlier established a college for a master and twelve chaplains at the location. Edward's burial provided the basis for the later adoption of the church as a mausoleum to the Yorkist dynasty. In 1476 the church witnessed one of the most elaborate ceremonies of Edward IV's reign – the re-interment of the bodies of the king's father Richard Plantagenet, 3rd Duke of York and his younger brother Edmund, Earl of Rutland, who had been buried in a humble tomb at Pontefract. Father and son fell at the Battle of Wakefield on 30 December 1460.

 

Thomas Whiting, Chester Herald, has left a detailed account of the events:

 

on 24 July [1476] the bodies were exhumed, that of the Duke, "garbed in an ermine furred mantle and cap of maintenance, covered with a cloth of gold" lay in state under a hearse blazing with candles, guarded by an angel of silver, bearing a crown of gold as a reminder that by right the Duke had been a king. On its journey, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, with other lords and officers of arms, all dressed in mourning, followed the funeral chariot, drawn by six horses, with trappings of black, charged with the arms of France and England and preceded by a knight bearing the banner of the ducal arms. Fotheringhay was reached on 29 July, where members of the college and other ecclesiastics went forth to meet the cortege. At the entrance to the churchyard, King Edward waited, together with the Duke of Clarence, the Marquis of Dorset, Earl Rivers, Lord Hastings and other noblemen. Upon its arrival the King 'made obeisance to the body right humbly and put his hand on the body and kissed it, crying all the time.' The procession moved into the church where two hearses were waiting, one in the choir for the body of the Duke and one in the Lady Chapel for that of the Earl of Rutland, and after the King had retired to his 'closet' and the princes and officers of arms had stationed themselves around the hearses, masses were sung and the King's chamberlain offered for him seven pieces of cloth of gold 'which were laid in a cross on the body.' The next day three masses were sung, the Bishop of Lincoln preached a 'very noble sermon' and offerings were made by the Duke of Gloucester and other lords, of 'The Duke of York's coat of arms, of his shield, his sword, his helmet and his coursers on which rode Lord Ferrers in full armour, holding in his hand an axe reversed.' When the funeral was over, the people were admitted into the church and it is said that before the coffins were placed in the vault which had been built under the chancel, five thousand persons came to receive the alms, while four times that number partook of the dinner, served partly in the castle and partly in the King's tents and pavilions. The menu included capons, cygnets, herons, rabbits and so many good things that the bills for it amounted to more than three hundred pounds.

 

In 1495 the body of Cecily Neville, Duchess of York was laid to rest beside that of her husband the Duke of York, as her will directed. She bequeathed to the College

 

a square canopy, crymson cloth of gold, a chasuble, and two tunicles, and three copes of blue velvet, bordered, with three albs, three mass books, three grails and seven processioners.

 

After the choir of the church was destroyed in the Reformation during the sixteenth century, Elizabeth I ordered the removal of the smashed York tombs and created the present monuments to the third Duke and his wife around the altar.

 

The birthday of Richard III is commemorated annually by the Richard III Society by the placing of white roses in the church.

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Church_of_St_Mary_and_All_Saints,_F...

 

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As any experienced pub quizzer will be able to tell you, Cambridgeshire shares borders with more other counties than any other English county, and one of the pleasures of exploring its churches by bike is to occasionally pop over a border and cherry-pick some of the best churches nearby. I had long wanted to visit Fotheringhay in Northamptonshire, and it is only ten miles west of Peterborough, and so I thought why not? I could also take in its near neighbours Nassington and Warmington, both noted as interesting churches.

   

Fotheringhay is a haunted place. It is haunted by noble birth and violent death, by its pivotal importance as a place in 15th Century English politics, and by its desolation in later centuries - not to mention by one significant event in the last couple of years.

   

The view of the church from the south across the River Nene is one of the most famous views of a church in England - there can be few books about churches which do not include it. The tower is a spectacular wedding cake, the square stage surmounted by an octagonal bell stage. This is not an unusual arrangement in the area of the Nene and Ouse Valleys, but nowhere is it on such a scale and with such intricacy as this.

   

The nave is also vast, a great length of flying buttresses running above each aisle, and walls of glass, great perpendicular windows designed to let in light and drive out superstition. What you cannot see from across the river is that, behind the big oak tree, the church has no chancel.

   

Inside, it is a square box full of light divided by great arcades that march resolutely eastwards towards a large blank wall. Heraldic shields stand aloof up in the arcades, and the one fabulous spot of colour is the great pulpit nestled in the south arcade, another sign that this building was designed to assert the doctrine of the Holy Catholic Church. This place swallows sound and magnifies light. It is thrilling, awe-inspiring. What happened here?

   

In the medieval period, Fotheringhay Castle was the powerbase of the House of York. The church was built as a result of a bequest by Edward III, who died in 1370. It was complete by the 1430s, with a college of priests and a large nave for the Catholic devotions of the people.

   

Over the next century it would house the tombs of, among others, Edward of Norwich, 2nd Duke of York and grandson of Edward III who was killed in 1415 at Agincourt, and Richard Plantaganet, 3rd Duke of York, who was killed in the Battle of Wakefield in 1460. It was Richard's claim to the throne of England which had led to the Wars of the Roses. His decapitated head was gleefully displayed on a pike above Micklegate Bar in York by the victorious Lancastrian forces. Also killed in the battle was Richard's 17 year old son Edmund.

   

But the Lancastrian delight was shortlived, for by the following year Richard's eldest son had become King as Edward IV. He immediately arranged for the translation of the bodies of his father and brother from their common grave at Pontefract back to Fotheringhay.

   

It was recorded that on 24 July the bodies were exhumed, that of the Duke garbed in an ermine furred mantle and cap of maintenance, covered with a cloth of gold lay in state under a hearse blazing with candles, guarded by an angel of silver, bearing a crown of gold as a reminder that by right the Duke had been a king.

   

On its journey, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, with other lords and officers of arms, all dressed in mourning, followed the funeral chariot, drawn by six horses, with trappings of black, charged with the arms of France and England and preceded by a knight bearing the banner of the ducal arms.

   

Fotheringhay was reached on 29 July, where members of the college and other ecclesiastics went forth to meet the cortege. At the entrance to the churchyard, King Edward waited, together with the Duke of Clarence, the Marquis of Dorset, Earl Rivers, Lord Hastings and other noblemen. Upon its arrival the King made obeisance to the body right humbly and put his hand on the body and kissed it, crying all the time.

   

The procession moved into the church where two hearses were waiting, one in the choir for the body of the Duke and one in the Lady Chapel for that of the Earl of Rutland, and after the King had retired to his closet and the princes and officers of arms had stationed themselves around the hearses, masses were sung and the King's chamberlain offered for him seven pieces of cloth of gold 'which were laid in a cross on the body.

   

The sorrowing Edward IV donated the great pulpit for the proclamation of the Catholic faith. And then in 1483 he died. He was succeeded as tradition required by his son, the 12 year old Edward V. But three months after his father's death the younger Edward was also dead, in mysterious circumstances. He was succeeded by his uncle, who had been born here in Fotheringhay in 1452, and who would reign, albeit briefly, as Richard III.

   

Was Richard III really the villain that history has made him out to be? Did he really murder his nephew to achieve the throne? Within two years he had also been killed at the Battle of Bosworth Field, and the Lancastrians were finally triumphant. Henry VII established the Tudor dynasty, and, as we all know, history is written by the victors, not by the losers.

   

But Fotheringhay had one more dramatic scene to set in English history before settling back into obscurity, and this time it involved the Tudors. In September 1586 a noble woman of middle years arrived at Fotheringhay Castle under special guard, and was imprisoned here. Her name was Mary, and she was on trial for treason.

   

It is clear today that most of the evidence was entirely fictional, but the powers of the day had good reason to fear Mary, for she had what appeared to many to be a legitimate claim to the English throne. She was the daughter of James V of Scotland, and had herself become Queen of Scotland at the age of just six weeks. She spent her childhood and youth in France while regents governed the nation in her stead, and she married Francis, the Dauphin of France, who became King of France in 1559. Briefly, Mary was both Queen of Scotland and Queen Consort of France, but in 1561 Francis died, and Mary returned to Scotland to govern her own country.

   

But there was a problem. Mary was a Catholic. Scotland had led the way in the English-speaking Reformation with a particularly firebrand form of Calvinism, and the protestant merchants of Edinburgh, Glasgow, Aberdeen and Dundee were aghast at the prospect of a Catholic monarch.

   

And there was a further problem. Scotland was currently at peace with its neighbour England, where Queen Elizabeth I had brought some stability to the troubled country. But the Catholic Church did not recognise Elizabeth as the rightful monarch of England, because it was considered that her father Henry VIII's divorce from his first wife Katherine of Aragon was invalid. As he had divorced Katherine to marry Elizabeth's mother Ann Boleyn, Catholics considered that the rightful line of succession had passed horizontally from Henry VIII to his deceased elder sister and then on to her descendants, the most senior of whom was Mary, Queen of Scotland.

   

Mary remarried in Scotland, but her husband was murdered, and she was forced to abdicate her throne in favour of their one year old baby. He would be brought up by protestant regents and advisors, and would reign Scotland as James VI. His protestant faith allowed the English crown to recognise the line's legitimate claims, and in 1603 James VI of Scotland became James I of England, the first monarch to govern both nations.

   

But that was all in the future. After her abdication, Mary fled south to seek the protection of her cousin Elizabeth. She spent most of the next 18 years in protective custody. A succession of plots and conspiracies implicated her, and finally on 8th February 1587, at the age of 44, Mary Queen of Scots was beheaded at Fotheringhay Castle.

   

One of her son James's first acts on ascending the English throne was to order that the castle where his mother had been shamefully imprisoned and executed be razed to the ground.

   

The chancel of Fotheringhay church and its College of Priests were already gone by then, demolished after the Reformation, leaving the York tombs exposed to the elements. it is said that Elizabeth herself, on a visit to Fotheringhay in 1566, insisted that they be brought back into the church.

   

Fotheringhay church settled back into obscurity. During the long 18th Century sleep of the Church of England it suffered neglect and disuse, but was restored well in the 19th Century. A chapel was designated for the memory of the York dynasty during the 20th Century, a sensitive issue for the Church of England which does not recognise prayers for the dead, but they can happen here in the Catholic tradition.

   

Today, the population of Fotheringhay cannot be much more than a hundred, an obscure backwater in remote north-east Northamptonshire, consisting of little more than its grand church set above the water meadows of the River Nene. But there was one more day in the public light to come.

   

In 2012, an archaeological dig in the centre of the city of Leicester, some 30 miles from here, uncovered a skeleton which had been buried in such a manner that it seemed it might be the dead King Richard III. Carbon dating and DNA matching proved that it was so. A controversy erupted about where the dead king might be reburied. Leicester Cathedral seemed the obvious place, although pompous claims were made by, among others, the MP for York, for him to be buried in York Minster. But there was also a case for the remains being returned here, to the quiet peace of Fotheringhay.

   

In the event reason held sway and Richard was reburied in Leicester, but Fotheringhay church, along with Leicester Cathedral, York Minster and Westminster Abbey, was one of four sites to host books of remembrance for Richard III.

   

In June 2015 I was surprised to find that the book here was still in use at the west end of the nave, and is still regularly signed by people. Perhaps they think it is the visitors book.

 

Simon Knott. June 2015.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/19327047848/in/photo...

  

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

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Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

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The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

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The Church of St Mary and All Saints, Fotheringhay is a parish church in the Church of England in Fotheringhay, Northamptonshire. It is noted for containing a mausoleum to leading members of the Yorkist dynasty of the Wars of the Roses.

 

The work on the present church was begun by Edward III who also built a college as a cloister on the church's southern side. After completion in around 1430, a parish church of similar style was added to the western end of the collegiate church with work beginning in 1434. A local mason, William Horwood was contracted to build the nave, porch, and tower of this church for £300 for the Duke of York.[2] It is the parish church which still remains.

 

The large present church is named in honour of St Mary and All Saints, and has a distinctive tall tower dominating the local skyline. The church is Perpendicular in style and although only the nave, aisles and octagonal tower remain of the original building it is still in the best style of its period.[3] The tower is 78 feet (24 metres) high to the battlements, and is 116 feet (35 metres) high to the pinnacles of the octagon.[4]

 

The church has been described by Simon Jenkins as

 

float[ing] on its hill above the River Nene, a galleon of Perpendicular on a sea of corn.

 

The college continued to 1547, when it was seized by the Crown, along with all remaining chantries and colleges. The chancel was pulled down immediately after the college was granted to John Dudley, 1st Duke of Northumberland, by King Edward VI.[6] A grammar school was founded in its place which lasted until 1859.

 

Nearby Fotheringhay Castle was the principal home of two Dukes of York. Edward of Norwich, 2nd Duke of York, who was killed at the Battle of Agincourt in 1415 was buried in the church. He had earlier established a college for a master and twelve chaplains at the location. Edward's burial provided the basis for the later adoption of the church as a mausoleum to the Yorkist dynasty. In 1476 the church witnessed one of the most elaborate ceremonies of Edward IV's reign – the re-interment of the bodies of the king's father Richard Plantagenet, 3rd Duke of York and his younger brother Edmund, Earl of Rutland, who had been buried in a humble tomb at Pontefract. Father and son fell at the Battle of Wakefield on 30 December 1460.

 

Thomas Whiting, Chester Herald, has left a detailed account of the events:

 

on 24 July [1476] the bodies were exhumed, that of the Duke, "garbed in an ermine furred mantle and cap of maintenance, covered with a cloth of gold" lay in state under a hearse blazing with candles, guarded by an angel of silver, bearing a crown of gold as a reminder that by right the Duke had been a king. On its journey, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, with other lords and officers of arms, all dressed in mourning, followed the funeral chariot, drawn by six horses, with trappings of black, charged with the arms of France and England and preceded by a knight bearing the banner of the ducal arms. Fotheringhay was reached on 29 July, where members of the college and other ecclesiastics went forth to meet the cortege. At the entrance to the churchyard, King Edward waited, together with the Duke of Clarence, the Marquis of Dorset, Earl Rivers, Lord Hastings and other noblemen. Upon its arrival the King 'made obeisance to the body right humbly and put his hand on the body and kissed it, crying all the time.' The procession moved into the church where two hearses were waiting, one in the choir for the body of the Duke and one in the Lady Chapel for that of the Earl of Rutland, and after the King had retired to his 'closet' and the princes and officers of arms had stationed themselves around the hearses, masses were sung and the King's chamberlain offered for him seven pieces of cloth of gold 'which were laid in a cross on the body.' The next day three masses were sung, the Bishop of Lincoln preached a 'very noble sermon' and offerings were made by the Duke of Gloucester and other lords, of 'The Duke of York's coat of arms, of his shield, his sword, his helmet and his coursers on which rode Lord Ferrers in full armour, holding in his hand an axe reversed.' When the funeral was over, the people were admitted into the church and it is said that before the coffins were placed in the vault which had been built under the chancel, five thousand persons came to receive the alms, while four times that number partook of the dinner, served partly in the castle and partly in the King's tents and pavilions. The menu included capons, cygnets, herons, rabbits and so many good things that the bills for it amounted to more than three hundred pounds.

 

In 1495 the body of Cecily Neville, Duchess of York was laid to rest beside that of her husband the Duke of York, as her will directed. She bequeathed to the College

 

a square canopy, crymson cloth of gold, a chasuble, and two tunicles, and three copes of blue velvet, bordered, with three albs, three mass books, three grails and seven processioners.

 

After the choir of the church was destroyed in the Reformation during the sixteenth century, Elizabeth I ordered the removal of the smashed York tombs and created the present monuments to the third Duke and his wife around the altar.

 

The birthday of Richard III is commemorated annually by the Richard III Society by the placing of white roses in the church.

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Church_of_St_Mary_and_All_Saints,_F...

 

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As any experienced pub quizzer will be able to tell you, Cambridgeshire shares borders with more other counties than any other English county, and one of the pleasures of exploring its churches by bike is to occasionally pop over a border and cherry-pick some of the best churches nearby. I had long wanted to visit Fotheringhay in Northamptonshire, and it is only ten miles west of Peterborough, and so I thought why not? I could also take in its near neighbours Nassington and Warmington, both noted as interesting churches.

   

Fotheringhay is a haunted place. It is haunted by noble birth and violent death, by its pivotal importance as a place in 15th Century English politics, and by its desolation in later centuries - not to mention by one significant event in the last couple of years.

   

The view of the church from the south across the River Nene is one of the most famous views of a church in England - there can be few books about churches which do not include it. The tower is a spectacular wedding cake, the square stage surmounted by an octagonal bell stage. This is not an unusual arrangement in the area of the Nene and Ouse Valleys, but nowhere is it on such a scale and with such intricacy as this.

   

The nave is also vast, a great length of flying buttresses running above each aisle, and walls of glass, great perpendicular windows designed to let in light and drive out superstition. What you cannot see from across the river is that, behind the big oak tree, the church has no chancel.

   

Inside, it is a square box full of light divided by great arcades that march resolutely eastwards towards a large blank wall. Heraldic shields stand aloof up in the arcades, and the one fabulous spot of colour is the great pulpit nestled in the south arcade, another sign that this building was designed to assert the doctrine of the Holy Catholic Church. This place swallows sound and magnifies light. It is thrilling, awe-inspiring. What happened here?

   

In the medieval period, Fotheringhay Castle was the powerbase of the House of York. The church was built as a result of a bequest by Edward III, who died in 1370. It was complete by the 1430s, with a college of priests and a large nave for the Catholic devotions of the people.

   

Over the next century it would house the tombs of, among others, Edward of Norwich, 2nd Duke of York and grandson of Edward III who was killed in 1415 at Agincourt, and Richard Plantaganet, 3rd Duke of York, who was killed in the Battle of Wakefield in 1460. It was Richard's claim to the throne of England which had led to the Wars of the Roses. His decapitated head was gleefully displayed on a pike above Micklegate Bar in York by the victorious Lancastrian forces. Also killed in the battle was Richard's 17 year old son Edmund.

   

But the Lancastrian delight was shortlived, for by the following year Richard's eldest son had become King as Edward IV. He immediately arranged for the translation of the bodies of his father and brother from their common grave at Pontefract back to Fotheringhay.

   

It was recorded that on 24 July the bodies were exhumed, that of the Duke garbed in an ermine furred mantle and cap of maintenance, covered with a cloth of gold lay in state under a hearse blazing with candles, guarded by an angel of silver, bearing a crown of gold as a reminder that by right the Duke had been a king.

   

On its journey, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, with other lords and officers of arms, all dressed in mourning, followed the funeral chariot, drawn by six horses, with trappings of black, charged with the arms of France and England and preceded by a knight bearing the banner of the ducal arms.

   

Fotheringhay was reached on 29 July, where members of the college and other ecclesiastics went forth to meet the cortege. At the entrance to the churchyard, King Edward waited, together with the Duke of Clarence, the Marquis of Dorset, Earl Rivers, Lord Hastings and other noblemen. Upon its arrival the King made obeisance to the body right humbly and put his hand on the body and kissed it, crying all the time.

   

The procession moved into the church where two hearses were waiting, one in the choir for the body of the Duke and one in the Lady Chapel for that of the Earl of Rutland, and after the King had retired to his closet and the princes and officers of arms had stationed themselves around the hearses, masses were sung and the King's chamberlain offered for him seven pieces of cloth of gold 'which were laid in a cross on the body.

   

The sorrowing Edward IV donated the great pulpit for the proclamation of the Catholic faith. And then in 1483 he died. He was succeeded as tradition required by his son, the 12 year old Edward V. But three months after his father's death the younger Edward was also dead, in mysterious circumstances. He was succeeded by his uncle, who had been born here in Fotheringhay in 1452, and who would reign, albeit briefly, as Richard III.

   

Was Richard III really the villain that history has made him out to be? Did he really murder his nephew to achieve the throne? Within two years he had also been killed at the Battle of Bosworth Field, and the Lancastrians were finally triumphant. Henry VII established the Tudor dynasty, and, as we all know, history is written by the victors, not by the losers.

   

But Fotheringhay had one more dramatic scene to set in English history before settling back into obscurity, and this time it involved the Tudors. In September 1586 a noble woman of middle years arrived at Fotheringhay Castle under special guard, and was imprisoned here. Her name was Mary, and she was on trial for treason.

   

It is clear today that most of the evidence was entirely fictional, but the powers of the day had good reason to fear Mary, for she had what appeared to many to be a legitimate claim to the English throne. She was the daughter of James V of Scotland, and had herself become Queen of Scotland at the age of just six weeks. She spent her childhood and youth in France while regents governed the nation in her stead, and she married Francis, the Dauphin of France, who became King of France in 1559. Briefly, Mary was both Queen of Scotland and Queen Consort of France, but in 1561 Francis died, and Mary returned to Scotland to govern her own country.

   

But there was a problem. Mary was a Catholic. Scotland had led the way in the English-speaking Reformation with a particularly firebrand form of Calvinism, and the protestant merchants of Edinburgh, Glasgow, Aberdeen and Dundee were aghast at the prospect of a Catholic monarch.

   

And there was a further problem. Scotland was currently at peace with its neighbour England, where Queen Elizabeth I had brought some stability to the troubled country. But the Catholic Church did not recognise Elizabeth as the rightful monarch of England, because it was considered that her father Henry VIII's divorce from his first wife Katherine of Aragon was invalid. As he had divorced Katherine to marry Elizabeth's mother Ann Boleyn, Catholics considered that the rightful line of succession had passed horizontally from Henry VIII to his deceased elder sister and then on to her descendants, the most senior of whom was Mary, Queen of Scotland.

   

Mary remarried in Scotland, but her husband was murdered, and she was forced to abdicate her throne in favour of their one year old baby. He would be brought up by protestant regents and advisors, and would reign Scotland as James VI. His protestant faith allowed the English crown to recognise the line's legitimate claims, and in 1603 James VI of Scotland became James I of England, the first monarch to govern both nations.

   

But that was all in the future. After her abdication, Mary fled south to seek the protection of her cousin Elizabeth. She spent most of the next 18 years in protective custody. A succession of plots and conspiracies implicated her, and finally on 8th February 1587, at the age of 44, Mary Queen of Scots was beheaded at Fotheringhay Castle.

   

One of her son James's first acts on ascending the English throne was to order that the castle where his mother had been shamefully imprisoned and executed be razed to the ground.

   

The chancel of Fotheringhay church and its College of Priests were already gone by then, demolished after the Reformation, leaving the York tombs exposed to the elements. it is said that Elizabeth herself, on a visit to Fotheringhay in 1566, insisted that they be brought back into the church.

   

Fotheringhay church settled back into obscurity. During the long 18th Century sleep of the Church of England it suffered neglect and disuse, but was restored well in the 19th Century. A chapel was designated for the memory of the York dynasty during the 20th Century, a sensitive issue for the Church of England which does not recognise prayers for the dead, but they can happen here in the Catholic tradition.

   

Today, the population of Fotheringhay cannot be much more than a hundred, an obscure backwater in remote north-east Northamptonshire, consisting of little more than its grand church set above the water meadows of the River Nene. But there was one more day in the public light to come.

   

In 2012, an archaeological dig in the centre of the city of Leicester, some 30 miles from here, uncovered a skeleton which had been buried in such a manner that it seemed it might be the dead King Richard III. Carbon dating and DNA matching proved that it was so. A controversy erupted about where the dead king might be reburied. Leicester Cathedral seemed the obvious place, although pompous claims were made by, among others, the MP for York, for him to be buried in York Minster. But there was also a case for the remains being returned here, to the quiet peace of Fotheringhay.

   

In the event reason held sway and Richard was reburied in Leicester, but Fotheringhay church, along with Leicester Cathedral, York Minster and Westminster Abbey, was one of four sites to host books of remembrance for Richard III.

   

In June 2015 I was surprised to find that the book here was still in use at the west end of the nave, and is still regularly signed by people. Perhaps they think it is the visitors book.

 

Simon Knott. June 2015.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/19327047848/in/photo...

  

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

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The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

----------------------------------------------------

 

The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

----------------------------------------------------

 

The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

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Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

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The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

----------------------------------------------------

 

The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

----------------------------------------------------

 

The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

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Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

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The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Fancy Meat and Cheeseboard with Fruit as an Appetizer

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

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The Church of St Mary and All Saints, Fotheringhay is a parish church in the Church of England in Fotheringhay, Northamptonshire. It is noted for containing a mausoleum to leading members of the Yorkist dynasty of the Wars of the Roses.

 

The work on the present church was begun by Edward III who also built a college as a cloister on the church's southern side. After completion in around 1430, a parish church of similar style was added to the western end of the collegiate church with work beginning in 1434. A local mason, William Horwood was contracted to build the nave, porch, and tower of this church for £300 for the Duke of York.[2] It is the parish church which still remains.

 

The large present church is named in honour of St Mary and All Saints, and has a distinctive tall tower dominating the local skyline. The church is Perpendicular in style and although only the nave, aisles and octagonal tower remain of the original building it is still in the best style of its period.[3] The tower is 78 feet (24 metres) high to the battlements, and is 116 feet (35 metres) high to the pinnacles of the octagon.[4]

 

The church has been described by Simon Jenkins as

 

float[ing] on its hill above the River Nene, a galleon of Perpendicular on a sea of corn.

 

The college continued to 1547, when it was seized by the Crown, along with all remaining chantries and colleges. The chancel was pulled down immediately after the college was granted to John Dudley, 1st Duke of Northumberland, by King Edward VI.[6] A grammar school was founded in its place which lasted until 1859.

 

Nearby Fotheringhay Castle was the principal home of two Dukes of York. Edward of Norwich, 2nd Duke of York, who was killed at the Battle of Agincourt in 1415 was buried in the church. He had earlier established a college for a master and twelve chaplains at the location. Edward's burial provided the basis for the later adoption of the church as a mausoleum to the Yorkist dynasty. In 1476 the church witnessed one of the most elaborate ceremonies of Edward IV's reign – the re-interment of the bodies of the king's father Richard Plantagenet, 3rd Duke of York and his younger brother Edmund, Earl of Rutland, who had been buried in a humble tomb at Pontefract. Father and son fell at the Battle of Wakefield on 30 December 1460.

 

Thomas Whiting, Chester Herald, has left a detailed account of the events:

 

on 24 July [1476] the bodies were exhumed, that of the Duke, "garbed in an ermine furred mantle and cap of maintenance, covered with a cloth of gold" lay in state under a hearse blazing with candles, guarded by an angel of silver, bearing a crown of gold as a reminder that by right the Duke had been a king. On its journey, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, with other lords and officers of arms, all dressed in mourning, followed the funeral chariot, drawn by six horses, with trappings of black, charged with the arms of France and England and preceded by a knight bearing the banner of the ducal arms. Fotheringhay was reached on 29 July, where members of the college and other ecclesiastics went forth to meet the cortege. At the entrance to the churchyard, King Edward waited, together with the Duke of Clarence, the Marquis of Dorset, Earl Rivers, Lord Hastings and other noblemen. Upon its arrival the King 'made obeisance to the body right humbly and put his hand on the body and kissed it, crying all the time.' The procession moved into the church where two hearses were waiting, one in the choir for the body of the Duke and one in the Lady Chapel for that of the Earl of Rutland, and after the King had retired to his 'closet' and the princes and officers of arms had stationed themselves around the hearses, masses were sung and the King's chamberlain offered for him seven pieces of cloth of gold 'which were laid in a cross on the body.' The next day three masses were sung, the Bishop of Lincoln preached a 'very noble sermon' and offerings were made by the Duke of Gloucester and other lords, of 'The Duke of York's coat of arms, of his shield, his sword, his helmet and his coursers on which rode Lord Ferrers in full armour, holding in his hand an axe reversed.' When the funeral was over, the people were admitted into the church and it is said that before the coffins were placed in the vault which had been built under the chancel, five thousand persons came to receive the alms, while four times that number partook of the dinner, served partly in the castle and partly in the King's tents and pavilions. The menu included capons, cygnets, herons, rabbits and so many good things that the bills for it amounted to more than three hundred pounds.

 

In 1495 the body of Cecily Neville, Duchess of York was laid to rest beside that of her husband the Duke of York, as her will directed. She bequeathed to the College

 

a square canopy, crymson cloth of gold, a chasuble, and two tunicles, and three copes of blue velvet, bordered, with three albs, three mass books, three grails and seven processioners.

 

After the choir of the church was destroyed in the Reformation during the sixteenth century, Elizabeth I ordered the removal of the smashed York tombs and created the present monuments to the third Duke and his wife around the altar.

 

The birthday of Richard III is commemorated annually by the Richard III Society by the placing of white roses in the church.

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Church_of_St_Mary_and_All_Saints,_F...

 

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As any experienced pub quizzer will be able to tell you, Cambridgeshire shares borders with more other counties than any other English county, and one of the pleasures of exploring its churches by bike is to occasionally pop over a border and cherry-pick some of the best churches nearby. I had long wanted to visit Fotheringhay in Northamptonshire, and it is only ten miles west of Peterborough, and so I thought why not? I could also take in its near neighbours Nassington and Warmington, both noted as interesting churches.

   

Fotheringhay is a haunted place. It is haunted by noble birth and violent death, by its pivotal importance as a place in 15th Century English politics, and by its desolation in later centuries - not to mention by one significant event in the last couple of years.

   

The view of the church from the south across the River Nene is one of the most famous views of a church in England - there can be few books about churches which do not include it. The tower is a spectacular wedding cake, the square stage surmounted by an octagonal bell stage. This is not an unusual arrangement in the area of the Nene and Ouse Valleys, but nowhere is it on such a scale and with such intricacy as this.

   

The nave is also vast, a great length of flying buttresses running above each aisle, and walls of glass, great perpendicular windows designed to let in light and drive out superstition. What you cannot see from across the river is that, behind the big oak tree, the church has no chancel.

   

Inside, it is a square box full of light divided by great arcades that march resolutely eastwards towards a large blank wall. Heraldic shields stand aloof up in the arcades, and the one fabulous spot of colour is the great pulpit nestled in the south arcade, another sign that this building was designed to assert the doctrine of the Holy Catholic Church. This place swallows sound and magnifies light. It is thrilling, awe-inspiring. What happened here?

   

In the medieval period, Fotheringhay Castle was the powerbase of the House of York. The church was built as a result of a bequest by Edward III, who died in 1370. It was complete by the 1430s, with a college of priests and a large nave for the Catholic devotions of the people.

   

Over the next century it would house the tombs of, among others, Edward of Norwich, 2nd Duke of York and grandson of Edward III who was killed in 1415 at Agincourt, and Richard Plantaganet, 3rd Duke of York, who was killed in the Battle of Wakefield in 1460. It was Richard's claim to the throne of England which had led to the Wars of the Roses. His decapitated head was gleefully displayed on a pike above Micklegate Bar in York by the victorious Lancastrian forces. Also killed in the battle was Richard's 17 year old son Edmund.

   

But the Lancastrian delight was shortlived, for by the following year Richard's eldest son had become King as Edward IV. He immediately arranged for the translation of the bodies of his father and brother from their common grave at Pontefract back to Fotheringhay.

   

It was recorded that on 24 July the bodies were exhumed, that of the Duke garbed in an ermine furred mantle and cap of maintenance, covered with a cloth of gold lay in state under a hearse blazing with candles, guarded by an angel of silver, bearing a crown of gold as a reminder that by right the Duke had been a king.

   

On its journey, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, with other lords and officers of arms, all dressed in mourning, followed the funeral chariot, drawn by six horses, with trappings of black, charged with the arms of France and England and preceded by a knight bearing the banner of the ducal arms.

   

Fotheringhay was reached on 29 July, where members of the college and other ecclesiastics went forth to meet the cortege. At the entrance to the churchyard, King Edward waited, together with the Duke of Clarence, the Marquis of Dorset, Earl Rivers, Lord Hastings and other noblemen. Upon its arrival the King made obeisance to the body right humbly and put his hand on the body and kissed it, crying all the time.

   

The procession moved into the church where two hearses were waiting, one in the choir for the body of the Duke and one in the Lady Chapel for that of the Earl of Rutland, and after the King had retired to his closet and the princes and officers of arms had stationed themselves around the hearses, masses were sung and the King's chamberlain offered for him seven pieces of cloth of gold 'which were laid in a cross on the body.

   

The sorrowing Edward IV donated the great pulpit for the proclamation of the Catholic faith. And then in 1483 he died. He was succeeded as tradition required by his son, the 12 year old Edward V. But three months after his father's death the younger Edward was also dead, in mysterious circumstances. He was succeeded by his uncle, who had been born here in Fotheringhay in 1452, and who would reign, albeit briefly, as Richard III.

   

Was Richard III really the villain that history has made him out to be? Did he really murder his nephew to achieve the throne? Within two years he had also been killed at the Battle of Bosworth Field, and the Lancastrians were finally triumphant. Henry VII established the Tudor dynasty, and, as we all know, history is written by the victors, not by the losers.

   

But Fotheringhay had one more dramatic scene to set in English history before settling back into obscurity, and this time it involved the Tudors. In September 1586 a noble woman of middle years arrived at Fotheringhay Castle under special guard, and was imprisoned here. Her name was Mary, and she was on trial for treason.

   

It is clear today that most of the evidence was entirely fictional, but the powers of the day had good reason to fear Mary, for she had what appeared to many to be a legitimate claim to the English throne. She was the daughter of James V of Scotland, and had herself become Queen of Scotland at the age of just six weeks. She spent her childhood and youth in France while regents governed the nation in her stead, and she married Francis, the Dauphin of France, who became King of France in 1559. Briefly, Mary was both Queen of Scotland and Queen Consort of France, but in 1561 Francis died, and Mary returned to Scotland to govern her own country.

   

But there was a problem. Mary was a Catholic. Scotland had led the way in the English-speaking Reformation with a particularly firebrand form of Calvinism, and the protestant merchants of Edinburgh, Glasgow, Aberdeen and Dundee were aghast at the prospect of a Catholic monarch.

   

And there was a further problem. Scotland was currently at peace with its neighbour England, where Queen Elizabeth I had brought some stability to the troubled country. But the Catholic Church did not recognise Elizabeth as the rightful monarch of England, because it was considered that her father Henry VIII's divorce from his first wife Katherine of Aragon was invalid. As he had divorced Katherine to marry Elizabeth's mother Ann Boleyn, Catholics considered that the rightful line of succession had passed horizontally from Henry VIII to his deceased elder sister and then on to her descendants, the most senior of whom was Mary, Queen of Scotland.

   

Mary remarried in Scotland, but her husband was murdered, and she was forced to abdicate her throne in favour of their one year old baby. He would be brought up by protestant regents and advisors, and would reign Scotland as James VI. His protestant faith allowed the English crown to recognise the line's legitimate claims, and in 1603 James VI of Scotland became James I of England, the first monarch to govern both nations.

   

But that was all in the future. After her abdication, Mary fled south to seek the protection of her cousin Elizabeth. She spent most of the next 18 years in protective custody. A succession of plots and conspiracies implicated her, and finally on 8th February 1587, at the age of 44, Mary Queen of Scots was beheaded at Fotheringhay Castle.

   

One of her son James's first acts on ascending the English throne was to order that the castle where his mother had been shamefully imprisoned and executed be razed to the ground.

   

The chancel of Fotheringhay church and its College of Priests were already gone by then, demolished after the Reformation, leaving the York tombs exposed to the elements. it is said that Elizabeth herself, on a visit to Fotheringhay in 1566, insisted that they be brought back into the church.

   

Fotheringhay church settled back into obscurity. During the long 18th Century sleep of the Church of England it suffered neglect and disuse, but was restored well in the 19th Century. A chapel was designated for the memory of the York dynasty during the 20th Century, a sensitive issue for the Church of England which does not recognise prayers for the dead, but they can happen here in the Catholic tradition.

   

Today, the population of Fotheringhay cannot be much more than a hundred, an obscure backwater in remote north-east Northamptonshire, consisting of little more than its grand church set above the water meadows of the River Nene. But there was one more day in the public light to come.

   

In 2012, an archaeological dig in the centre of the city of Leicester, some 30 miles from here, uncovered a skeleton which had been buried in such a manner that it seemed it might be the dead King Richard III. Carbon dating and DNA matching proved that it was so. A controversy erupted about where the dead king might be reburied. Leicester Cathedral seemed the obvious place, although pompous claims were made by, among others, the MP for York, for him to be buried in York Minster. But there was also a case for the remains being returned here, to the quiet peace of Fotheringhay.

   

In the event reason held sway and Richard was reburied in Leicester, but Fotheringhay church, along with Leicester Cathedral, York Minster and Westminster Abbey, was one of four sites to host books of remembrance for Richard III.

   

In June 2015 I was surprised to find that the book here was still in use at the west end of the nave, and is still regularly signed by people. Perhaps they think it is the visitors book.

 

Simon Knott. June 2015.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/19327047848/in/photo...

  

A weekend away!

 

The idea was to meet up with some like-minded railway-inclined photographers for beer, stories and taking lots of shots of locos at a steam gala in the midlands. It all sounded wonderful, but I did not read the mail properly, and missed the meet-up by a whole day. But still the gala was still on, and so as the hotel was still booked, so may as well make the best of things, eh?

 

I asked my good friend, Gary, to feed the mogs, and to borrow his monster 130-400mm lens, and so after being awake at a really silly hour Saturday morning, we fed the cats, packed the car and headed off into the dark to head up to Loughborough for lots and lots of trains. I won’t bore you with the journey, but it was pleasant enough, traffic light and weather was pleasant enough. Zoe Ball burbled on the radio playing inoffensive music and asking not-so-taxing conundrums.

 

oon enough we turned off the M1 and a quick blast onto a local road and through the picturesque village of Quorn and then we arrived at the station, only to find most of the train fans in the country had arrived before us. Still, we paid to get in, found what seemed to be the last non-muddy parking space, I got the camera gear out and we headed to the station to purchase our tickets. At least by that time, it did not seem too crowded, and once we got the tickets, I snapped what locomotives were around, before we headed on the first train north to the main station at Loughborough to have a look round the yard and engine shed.

 

There was no chance of a seat, so we stood in the guards compartment, which was pleasant enough; we talked to other travellers and it really was very nice. At Loughborough, we got out and walked to the shed, only to find just about all ten locomotives were out somewhere on the line. But, one tank locomotive was being watered, and I knew that one of my Flickr contacts should have been working on it. ‘Is there a Mr Loose grip on there?’ I asked. The fireman turned and smiled, ‘I’m Loose Grip’ he said. I explained I was one of his Flickr contacts and just wanted to say ‘hi’. He climbed down to shake my hand, but then the signal dropped to show the road was clear, and he had to get back to work, and was gone.

 

Everywhere was now very crowded, and so we walked from the station into the town to find somewhere to get a bite to eat. We walked into the centre of town, and in time found an Italian café and had huge breakfasts and a good sized cuppa. Feeling better, we split up for a while as she went to look for a bead shop and I seeking out the town’s church. Thankfully, it was unlocked, and I went inside and had a nice meeting with the churchwarden, before I got the shots I wanted, and I headed back to the station and the world of steam.

 

I got on the first train south. I say got on, the crowds were now so big, that I only just got on the train, being the last one to get onto the carriage. That was good enough for me. I wanted to get to somewhere with a clear view of the line so I could something other than close-up shots. I ended up at Rothley, a station in a deep cutting, and it seemed perfect. However, the cuttings were marked as private property, and even though others had broken through the gate and were happily taking shots or having a picnic, it felt wrong to me to trespass, and so I went back to the station, and the road over the railway, offered fair views of the line; so I stopped there to watch a few trains go past.

 

After a while, I went onto the station to try to get a drink. OK, a beer. I queued up to get a bottle of beer, and sat on a picnic bench outside and watched the world, and trains, go by. I got a call from Jools saying she had seen me as her train went through the station, and was trying to get back to me. Initially, we had planned to hang round the station some more, but the crowds were so thick now, and views were really difficult to get, so I decided that we should go to the hotel for a rest. I should also explain that I had flattened the battery on my main camera, and what with our early start, I needed a lay down too.

 

So, a quick twenty minute drive through wonderful countryside and stunningly beautiful villages we ended up at the Travelodge; the booking was good and we were shown up to our room, with the warning that the Little Chef stopped serving at nine in the evening. We explained that we had seen a nice looking pub, but she said to go to the village of Thrussington. We had been told there were two good pubs there, but we stopped at the first one, The Star, and after parking on the square, went inside and grabbed the last table.

 

Food was good and very flavoursome, which is a good thing I find. I had Moroccan Lamb Tagine followed by a good cheeseboard, washed down by Timothy Tailor Landlord and for the cheese a nice glass of red wine. A super meal, and just a 5 minute drive for Jools back to our hotel and time for bed.

 

Next morning we were up as normal before seven, and after packing and washing, we loaded the car and set off. The Little Chef failed to open, even if we had wanted to eat there, and so we headed back to Loughborough to find a place to take shots of the trains hurtling up and down. As we drove through town, I could see the smoke from the locomotives being steamed, and an idea formed into my mind; take shots of the yard with the ten steaming locomotives. I saw the bridge, and so swung the car round and parked up.

 

Sure enough, the view from the bridge was splendid, and I got the shots I wanted, and in the wonderful rosy light of dawn, it was a wonderful sight.

 

We headed off towards the countryside, and a bridge on a lane I had spied on Google Earth. We found the bridge with no trouble, turned the car round ready for a quick getaway. We were the only folks there, so I congratulated myself on choosing somewhere that no-one else had thought have using. I failed to realise it was still early. By half eight there must have been a dozen other cars parked up beside ours, and by nine, there was very little parking available.

 

Anyway, at a quarter to nine, the first locomotive went down the line; the frost and damp air meant that it created a huge amount of steam and smoke. It was wonderful. So, I snapped it good. At nine, the first passenger service was due to appear, and sure enough a huge cloud of smoke approached, and as expected it was being double-headed by two fine locomotives, and the smoke they produced was wonderful.

 

I hung round until ten, by which time I was frozen to my bones. I packed the camera away and we pulled away with the heating on full to warm up.

 

Not much else to say about the weekend; we had a good trip home, but having to drive the other way round the M25 due to an accident; this meant we had driven all round it over the weekend. Not the first time this has happened either. We were back at home by half two, and making a nice cup of tea soon enough.

 

And if the weekend wasn't good enough, Norwich beat West Brom again, at their place, in the FA cup. And we now have a home tie against Leicester in a few weeks. The dream lives on!

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

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Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

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The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Just playing around at home with some different stuff today.

One of the cutting boards I made. They make great gifts.

 

This one is hard maple and blood wood.

I'm making cutting boards as a hobby now. Each batch is better!

A cutting board I made in my garage-woodworking shop as a Christmas gift.

 

This one is made of zebra wood and bloodwood. It's difficult to smooth zebra wood.

Second weekend of the annual Heritage event. It seems wrong to call it a weekend as it now compromises two weekends and many meedweek events too.

 

And scanning the events, there were some in Canterbury, so we decide to head to the city for a wander: jools would go shopping while I would go and do some snapping.

 

Of course there is always shopping first. Off to Tesco to fill the car, then fill the fridge and larder. I am away for three days, nearly four, so not much needed on top of some ready meals for Jools. Still came to seventy quid, mind.

 

A tub of cheese footballs did fall into the trolley, which helped.

 

Back home for breakfast of fruit and more coffee, and then off to Canterbury, parking near St Augustine's Abbey, walking to the centre via a subway. We parted, Jools went to Body Shop and a couple of other shops, while I walked down High Street, past the Eastbridge Hospital, Westgate Tower, Canterbury West station to St Dunstan's.

 

I could say I walked straight there, but I had a quarter of an hour to play with, so when I walked past a pasty shop, I went in for a coffee, and although wasn't really hungry, I did have a pasty anyway.

 

Once fed and watered, I walk on, up the hill past the station, and on the left was the church, the door already open despite it being only five to nine.

 

I went in, and found I had the church to myself.

 

Last time I was here, the Roper Chapel was being renovated and so I couldn't get inside. Important as it is in the chapel that the head of Thomas Moor, beheaded on Tower Hill on orders of Henry VIII. The windows of the chapel have several representation of him and scenes from his life. I snap them all.

 

I go round with the wide angle lens, now the church is fully open again.

 

That done, I walk back down into the centre heading for Eastbridge Hospital.

 

I have been here before, a decade ago, when I went round with just my wide angle lens, and go a few poor shots. So, with it being open for the Heritage Event, it seemed a good idea to go.

 

The hospital is ancient, it goes without saying, and is still in use.

 

I have walked up and down High Street in Canterbury dozens of times, and never really thought about what lay behind buildings on the west side.

 

At Eastbridge the ancient hospital straddles the Stour, or one branch of it, on the other is the timber framed house, Weavers, with the ducking stool further downstream.

 

I re-visited the hospital, and on the way out was told I could visit the gardens and Greyfriars Chapel at the same time.

 

A shop, former pawnbrokers, is now a charity shop for the gardens, and through the shop there is an exit to a path beside the river.

 

This opens out into two acres of gardens, still used to feed the patients in the hospital, and the monks who still live and work here.

 

There used to be a large priory church here, and there are parts of ancient walls and ruins to be seen, as well as a bridge of the same age.

 

Over the river, a former lodging building from the 13th century, as been converted into a chapel, Greyfriars, with pillars supporting the building as the river passes through a tunnel under it.

 

It was rather like walking through a wardrobe into a magical place, with the Stour gently flowing through it, and a few other visitors making their was to the Chapel and surrounding gardens.

 

We sat for 45 minutes in the meadow waiting for a service to end, so I could get shots. So, we people watched and delighted in Migrant Hawkers flying by.

 

Franciscan Gardens, Canterbury, Kent The sounds of the city seemed a hundred miles away.

 

I got the shots once the group of ladies left, and once I had the three shots, we followed sign to the exit, leaving the garden through a plane gate beside the old post office.

 

Two hundred and sixty Now what?

 

Well, nothing. Really.

 

So, we walk back slowly to the car, pay for three hours parking and drive back out of the city, down the A2 to the coast and home.

 

Back in time to listen to the footy, have a brew and try to avoid eating as we were going out in the evening. As, on Monday, it will be 14 years since we married, and as I will be in another country Monday, we celebrated it two days early.

 

Or would do come six.

 

Norwich were going for seven wins in a row, but never really got going against WBA, and fell a goal behind early on. Better in the second half, and drew level thanks to a deflection, but no win. But also, no defeat either.

 

Franciscan Gardens, Canterbury, Kent I had a shower and put on some clean clothes and a splash of aftershave.

 

Ready.

 

I drive us to Jen's, picked her up, then drove slowly to Sandwich, then over the marshes through Preston to Stourmouth.

 

We were not the only customers; there was a wedding reception, and there were gentlement and boys in three piece suits, and ladies and girls in glamourous gowns and neck-breaking heels. Occasionally the bride would literally sweep through the bar, the train of her dress cleaning as it went. Not sure if what was the right colour.....

 

We had ordered when I booked the table, a huge pan of paella with chorizo, chicken, ham and shrimp. Jen and I shared a bottle of red, and we ate and watched the comings and goings as the wedding party got ever more rauocus.

 

We rounded off with a cheeseboard between the three of us, and that was it.

 

Jools drove us back to Jen's, dropping her off, then back home.

 

I had decided to open the bottle of port once home, and did. This has been on the shelf since my last trip to Denmark and I saw it at the airport duty free.

 

It was every bit of good that I hoped it would be.

 

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The Hospital of St Thomas the Martyr of Eastbridge was founded in the 12th century in Canterbury, England, to provide overnight accommodation for poor pilgrims to the shrine of St Thomas Becket. It is now one of the ten almshouses still providing accommodation for elderly citizens of Canterbury[1] and is a grade I listed building.

 

The hospital is situated on the King's-bridge, near the Westgate, in Canterbury. It was established sometime after the death of Thomas Becket (1170), possibly as early as 1176, when Canterbury Cathedral became a site of pilgrimage; the hospital provided accommodation for the pilgrims. The earliest name recorded as founder is that of Edward FitzOdbold c. 1190, with further endowments by Archbishop Hubert Walter about 1203.[1] For many years, no special statutes were enacted, nor were any rules laid down for the treatment of pilgrims.

 

The original building consists of an entrance hall, undercroft, refectory and chapel, all built in around 1190. Like the ancient Entrance Hall beneath it, the Pilgrims’ Chapel dates from the twelfth century, but assumed its present proportions in the fourteenth century. The roof of the Pilgrims’ Chapel is a fine example of its kind: the style of woodwork and joinery indicate that it was built around 1285. The Undercroft's original function was as a dormitory, and architecturally shows the period of time where the round-headed arch was giving way to the Gothic style of pointed arch.

 

The Refectory is a large open room originally used as a dining space. On the north wall is a painting of Our Lord in Glory between the symbols of the four Evangelists dating from the thirteenth century. This fresco was only uncovered when the chimney and fireplace installed around the time of the dissolution were removed in 1879, and it has been conserved since its revelation.

 

Approval for the funding of a Chantry Chapel was sanctioned by Archbishop Sudbury in 1375; the original document confirming this endowment is housed in the Canterbury Cathedral archives. (Chantries were abolished in 1547, and this fell into disrepair until it was reclaimed and restored for its original use in 1969.)

  

Hospital of St. Thomas, Canterbury, old engraving.

In the fourteenth century the hospital was reformed by Archbishop John de Stratford, during the reign of Edward III; he created ordinances, as well as a code of regulations to be acted on concerning pilgrims. He ruled that every pilgrim in health could rest in the hospital for one night at the cost of four pence, that weak and infirm applicants were to be preferred to those with better health, and that women "upwards of forty" should attend to the bedding and administer medicines to the sick. He also appointed a Master in priest's orders, under whose guidance a secular chaplain served. Further lands and revenues from parishes were given by Stratford and by Archbishop Simon Sudbury.[1]

 

This institution survived the Dissolution of the Monasteries and other religious houses during the reigns of Henry VIII and Edward VI, although the pilgrimage to St Thomas of Canterbury did not survive this period. In 1569 Archbishop Matthew Parker issued new ordinances governing the Hospital and its Master which specified the maintenance of twelve beds for the 'wayfaring poor' and established a school in the chapel for twenty boys. This arrangement was confirmed by Archbishop John Whitgift by Act of Parliament in 1584.[1]

 

The school survived until 1879. The chapel was then little used until its restoration by the Master in 1927. Further restoration work has taken place during the twentieth century. Much of this work was financed by sale of some of the hospital's lands at Blean at the foundation of the University of Kent in the 1960s.[1] A list of the Masters of the Eastbridge Hospital up to the end of the eighteenth century is given by Edward Hasted.

 

Between 2014–2019, extensive restoration took place to preserve those rooms situated directly over the River Stour. This work was supported by the Viridor Credits scheme, which funds community, heritage, and biodiversity projects. It was formally opened to the public by the Bishop of Dover on 23 March 2019, and named after Archbishop William Juxon, who was a generous benefactor during his tenure, and gave money for an earlier restoration of this part of Eastbridge.

 

Eastbridge is a functional almshouse to this day, providing accommodation in eight individual apartments in areas of the buildings inaccessible to the public. Eastbridge is administered by Trustees whose main aims are the maintenance of the ancient buildings, which are of national historic interest, and the welfare of the almshouse residents (Indwellers).

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eastbridge_Hospital_of_St_Thomas_th...

 

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THE HOSPITAL OF KING'S BRIDGE, ALIAS EASTBRIDGE

IS likewise situated in the same hundred, being exempt from the liberties of the city, and within the jurisdiction of the county of Kent at large. It takes its name from its situation close on the south side of King's bridge. This hospital was formerly called, by both the names of Eastbridge hospital and the hospital of St. Thomas the martyr of Eastbridge; which latter it had, from its being at first erected and endowed by the charity and piety of St. Thomas Becket, in king Henry II.'s reign. (fn. 1) For this we have the testimony of one of his successors, archbishop Stratford; who, upon his new ordination of the hospital, and in the charter of it, acknowledged archbishop Becket to be the first founder and endower of it; besides which, there is no other record extant, or to be found concerning the foundation of this hospital, or the intent why it was erected. (fn. 2) But to look back to the times intervening between these two founders, in which it is recorded, that archbishop Hubert, who sat in this see in king John's reign, was an especial benefactor to it, by the gift of several mills, tithes, and other premises, which were confirmed by the prior and convent of Christ church. In this archbishop's time there was another hospital, neighbouring to this of King's, alias Eastbridge, called Cokyn's hospital, built and en dowed by one William Cokyn, a citizen of Canterbury, whose name in his posterity long survived him, in this city. (fn. 3) This hospital was dedicated to St. Nicholas and the Virgin and martyr St. Catherine; and was situated in the parish of St. Peter, almost directly opposite to the late Black Friars-gate, having had a lane by it, once called Cokyn's lane, though long since shut up, and built upon. This hospital lastmentioned, was built on the scite of a house adjoining to the above William Cokyn's dwelling, or else was turned into one by him. Afterwards, by his charter, he united these two hospitals, and then by another charter, entitled them to all his lands, possessions and chattels, and made them his heirs. This union was confirmed by the bull of pope Innocent III. anno 1203, in which it is called the hospital of St. Thomas of Canterbury; and in Cokyn's grant of union, it is stiled the hospital of St. Nicholas, St. Catherine, and St. Thomas the Martyr of Eastbridge. (fn. 4) Eastbridge hospital becoming thus by union or consolidation possessed of and owners of Cokyn's hospital, it ceased soon afterwards, probably, to be used as one, and was hired or rented out, among the possessions of the hospital of Eastbridge; in which state it continues at this time. (fn. 5)

 

To return now again to the hospital of St. Thomas of Eastbridge, for which there being no statutes for the government of it, archbishop Stratford, anno 15 Edward III. drew up certain ordinances for that purpose, (fn. 6) the effect of which was, that the hospital being founded for the receiving, lodging and sustaining of poor pilgrims, was then, owing to the negligence of the masters, who had wasted the revenues of it, but meanly endowed, and that the buildings of it were in a ruinous condition: to remedy which, and to continue the charitable intent of it, he decreed, that the church of St. Nicholas, Harbledown, should be for ever appropriated to it; that for the government of this hospital, there should be a master in priest's orders, appointed by the archbishop and his successors, who should keep a proper secular chaplain, or vicar, under him, to be removed at the master's will and pleasure. That such poor pilgrims as happened to die within this hospital, should be buried in Christ church yard, in the place heretofore allotted to them there. That every pilgrim, in health, should have no more than one night's lodging and entertainment, at the expence of 4d. that there should be twelve beds in the hospital, and that some woman, upwards of forty years of age, should look after the beds and provide all necessaries for the pilgrims; that those who were not in health, should be preferred to such as were; that no lepers should be received into it; that if there was a smaller number of pilgrims reforting to the hospital, at any one time, a greater number should be received into it, in lieu of such deficiency, at other times, as far as the revenues of the hospital would allow of it; and further, he inhibited them from having any common seal in the hospital, with several other particular orders and injunction, as may be seen in the instrument more at large.

 

This hospital had several very liberal benefactors in early times. Among others, Hamo de Crevequer gave the church of Blean to it, which gift was afterwards confirmed by archbishop Stephen Langton, and was afterwards appropriated to it by archbishop Sudbury in 1375, Thomas, lord Roos, of Hamlake, in the 33d year of king Edward III. gave the manor of Blean to it, and the year afterwards Sir John Lee, as appears by the ledger of the hospital, gave to it a messuage, with 180 acres of land and divers rents of assize, in the same parish, for the increase of vorks of piety in it. (fn. 7)

 

In the year 1362, archbishop Islip founded a perpetual chantry in this hospital, and transferred to it, for the benefit of it, at the request of Bartholomew de Bourne, the chantry founded in the church of Livingsborne, alias Beaksborne, by his ancestor James de Bourne. (fn. 8)

 

By the instruments of the archbishops Islip and Sudbury, dated in the above year, it appears, by the former, that there was founded in this hospital, a perpetual chantry for divine services; the priest of which was to receive a yearly stipend of ten marcs, of the master of the hospital, out of the revenues of it; for which he was to celebrate divine service, and minister the sacraments and sacramentals in it, to such poor and infirm as should resort hither; and that the priest and his successors should possess the mansion, within the bounds of the hospital, between the infirmary and the great gate of it, and the chamber over it. After which king Edward III, having given a messuage, called the Chaunge, at the time almost wholly in ruins, to Thomas Newe de Wolton, then master of this hospital, and his successors, in aid of the maintenance of the priest who should celebrate in it for his health, for his soul afterwards, and that of John at Lee, who in part founded the chantry, &c. and the said messuage having been repaired and rebuilt by the executors, and at the cost, though charity, of his predecessor, the value of the rent amounted to seven marcs yearly, and would, as it was presumed, amount still higher in future; and it being difficult at that time to find a proper priest, who would undergo the duty and residence required in it, for the salary of ten marcs, the king's piety in augmenting the priest's stipend, was as yet frustrated—Archbishop Simon Sudbury, therefore, by his instrument dated in 1375, in which he recited the above ordination of his predecessor, ordained and decreed, in addition to that before-mentioned, and by the consent of the said Thomas, master of this hospital, and the executors of his predecessor, that the endowment of this chantry of ten marcs, should be augmented with five marcs and an half out of the seven marcs of rent of the messuage given by the king as aforesaid, with power of distress, &c. and whereas the presentation of the chantry of Bourne, united to this hospital, as in the ordination of the first chantry aforesaid made by his predecessor, more plainly appeared, belonged to Bartholomew de Bourne, his heirs, or assigns, before the union; he therefore decreed and ordained, that the presentation and collation to be made to the same, when vacant, should belong to him and his successors, and to the said Bartholomew de Bourne, his heirs, or assigns, alternately; the first turn to belong to the archbishop, because the assigns of Bartholomew de Bourne (fn. 9) had presented the then incumbent to it, &c. (fn. 10)

 

Though the revenues of this hospital lay chiesly in the parish of Blean, yet it was possessed of other rents, lands and tenements in Canterbury, Harbledown, and in Birchington. It was likewise possessed of lands in Herne, Reculver, Swaycliffe, Chistlet, and Bekesborne, belonging to the before-mentioned chantry, which at the suppression of it were seized on, as such.

 

By a bull of pope Honorius III. this hospital had the privilege of not paying tithes of their gardens. (fn. 11)

 

By the return made to the king's commissioners in king Henry VIII.'s reign, it appears, that there was here a neat handsome chapel, dedicated to the Virgin Mary, to which had belonged two bells, to ring to service, as was reported to them by the parson and churchwardens of All Saints; who said further, that this hospital was a parish church, in which there was ministred all sacraments and sacramentals, to the poor people resorting thither, and to the keeper of it, and his household, and all others remaining within the precinct of it, by the chantry priest; the matter of fact was, that this chapel was formerly served by the chantry priest of the chantry in it, mentioned before, to have been transferred to it, who had 10l. 6s. 8d. yearly stipend or wages, besides his mansion or dwelling, which was at the west end of the hospital, of all which it was deprived at the suppression of it by the statute of the 1st year of king Edward VI. (fn. 12) when a pension of six pounds per annum was granted to Nicholas Thompson, alias Campion, the incumbent of it, which was remaining anno 1553. (fn. 13)

 

The value of the revenues of the hospital itself, as returned anno 26 Henry VIII. according to both Dugdale and Speed, were 23l. 18s. 9⅓d. per annum, but this must have been the clear income, for according to Sancrost's manuscript valor, they amounted in the whole to 43l. 12s. 3d. (fn. 14)

 

The state of this hospital, as it stood in the time of cardinal Pole, at archdeacon Harpsfield's visitation in 1557, was, as appears by the entry in the book of it; that they were bound to receive way faring and hurt men, and to have eight beds for men, and four for women; to remain for a might, and more, if they were not able to depart; and the master of the hospital to be charged with their burial, and they had twenty lords of wood yearly allowed, and 26s. a year for drink, that there was 10l. land a year, with a mansion, which the priest always had for officiating in the chapel, taken away by the king, and that it was the head church to St. Cosmus and St. Damian Blean, but that they had no ornaments but organs. (fn. 15)

 

This hospital, though it outlasted the general suppression of most of the foundations of the like sort in the reigns of king Henry VIII. and king Edward VI. yet in the beginning of queen Elizabeth's reign, the lands and tenements belonging to it, as well as the hospital itself, then converted into tenements, were occu pied and possessed by private persons, until archbishop Parker, in the 10th year of that reign, recovered, by his prudent care, some of the lands and possessions, and restored the house again to pious and charitable uses. He framed new ordinances for the government of it, which he wisely contrived should be suitable to those times, as well as agreeable to the first foundation of the hospital, and the former statutes of archbishop Stratford, as far as might be; reserving nevertheless, a power to his successors, archbishops of Canterbury, to revise, alter, abolish and new make all, or any part of them; they are dated May 20, 1569. (fn. 16)

 

In them it appears, that in consequence of the ordinances of archbishop Stratford, the master of the hospital might take all the profits of it to his own use, bestowing only for the relief of wandering and wayfaring brethren, and poor, in bread and drink, after the rate of 4d. a day, and one night's lodging for twelve persons, if so many came there at one time, in the whole not above 6l. 2s. 6d. per annum, but the archbishop (Parker) by the authority in the above former ordinance concerning the disposition of the profits of this hospital, to him and his successors reserved, to alter and change the same, did by these ordinances in that behalf made, under his hand and seal, not only increase the above sum, to be from thenceforth bestowed on certain poor inhabiting within the county of the city of Canterbury, but also appointed other sums of money thereout, yearly to be paid towards the keeping of a freeschool, for a certain number of poor children of the county of the said city, to be taught to write and read freely within the hospital.

 

By the same ordinance, as well as by an indenture, between the master of this hospital and the master of Corpus Christi, or Benet college, in Cambridge, dated May 22, anno 11th Elizabeth, the archbishop founded out of the revenues of this hospital, two scholarships, each of the yearly value of 3l. 6s. 8d. that sum to be paid yearly from thence, by the master of the hospital to the master of the college; the two scholars to be chosen, named, examined and approved by the master of this hospital and the dean of Canterbury, if any such there should be; if not, then by the master only, and to be taken from the free-school in Canterbury, being such of the scholars there as were born within Kent, and being sent to Cambridge, should be called Canterbury scholars; who, after their admittance and receipt there, should remain and continue in that college, according to the orders and statutes of it, and should have of the provision of it, convenient chambers, commons, reading and other necessaries, as other scholars in it, according to common custom, for the term of two hundred years next, from the date of the indenture, with other rules and regulations in it relating to them. (fn. 17)

 

Not long after this, queen Elizabeth issued a commission of charitable uses, to enquire into the state and condition of this hospital, which was done, and a return thereof made accordingly; and again, soon after the death of archbishop Parker, there was a second commission, directed to Sir James Hales and others, who certisied, that the hospital house stood ruinated, and neither master nor brethren were resident, or dwelling of long time. The house was let out into tenements for yearly rent. The beds that were wont to lodge and harbour poor people resorting thither, were gone and sold, contrary to the old order and foundation of the same; and that the hospital was relinquished and concealed from the queen, &c. Upon which, she granted it, with all its revenues, by letters patent, dated July 20, in her 18th year, to John Farnham, one of her gentlemen pensioners, to hold in see farm for ever. —He soon afterwards conveyed his interest in it for 550l. and the release beside of a debt owing by him, to Geo. Hayes. After this, archbishop Whitgift recovered this hospital, with the revenues of it, from Hayes, and then settled it upon a new foundation, so firm and sure, that it has continued to the present time, and remains a perpetual monument of the archbishop's piety and prudence, who may be justly reputed the sounder and restorer of it; (fn. 18) and he framed new ordinances and statutes, for the better government of it, by which the hospital is now ruled. In these it is, among other things, ordered and decreed, that the archbishop should collate the master, who should be in holy orders, and should be instituted and inducted according to the usual form and custom, who should have the lodging known by the name of the master's lodging, in the hospital; and a yearly stipend of 61. 13s. 4d. and twenty loads of wood from the lands belonging to it, to be delivered cost free. That the master should appoint a school-master, who by himself or deputy, should freely instruct twenty poor children of this city, above the age of seven years, to write, read and cast accompts, and to have books, paper, &c. provided for them, out of the prosits of the hospital, and not to remain in the school above three years. The school-master to have a lodging in the hospital, and a stipend of four pounds, and for his further relief, if the master approved of it, to be receiver of the rents, &c. of the hospital; for which he should receive 26s. 8d. and two loads of wood yearly, to be delivered cost free, and one summer livery cloth. That out of the prosits of the hospital, there should be paid for ever, to the two scholars to be taken out of the common school at Canterbury, commonly called the mynte, by the master of the hospital, with the consent of the archbishop, and placed in Benet college, 3l. 6s. 8d. each, according to the former ordinances made of it. That whereas by former ordinances, the master of the hospital was only tied to pay in time of peace, unto the poor passengers, or to such other poor people as the master should think good, thirty pence a week; and in time of war that payment ceasing, to provide twelve beds for the lodging of poor soldiers, passing through this city, within the hospital, for the space of one night only, which is now grown wholly out of use, especially since the loss of Calais; therefore, for the better relief of the poor inhabiting within this city and the suburbs of it, it was ordered, that the former last recited orders should cease, and instead of them, there should be five inbrothers, and five in-sisters, to be permanent and have their habitation in the hospital; and after the space of twenty years next ensuing, there should be five other out-brothers, and five others called out-sisters; each of the said in-brothers and in-sisters to have a several dwelling and lodging within the hospital, and 26s. 8d. by the year, and one load of wood to be delivered cost free, between Midsummer and Michaelmas; and each of the out brothers and out-sisters to have 26s. 8d. by the year only; that the mayor of this city should from time to time, nominate to the master of the hospital for every of the brothers and sisters rooms, when they should be void and unfurnished, two poor persons, men or women, as the places should require, being lame, impotent, blind, or aged, above fifty years of age, who should have inhabited within the city, of suburbs, seven years before; of which two, the master should chuse and admit one; and in default of the mayor's nomi nating for the space of three months, the master to make choice, and admit any, qualisied as above-mentioned. That in the room of every out-brother and sister, the mayor should nominate such persons as above specisied, whereof one at least should be such as had dwelt in the city or suburbs, by the space of three whole years at least, to the end that such as dwelt there, and not within the county of the city, should receive the whole benefit of these ordinances. That the master, out of the profits of the hospital, should repair and sustain it, and every part within the precincts of it, and also sufficiently sustain and maintain the bridge, called the king's bridge, alias Eastbridge, within the city of Canterbury; (fn. 19) and pay to the queen, her heirs and successors, 7l. 10s. yearly, due to her for the pension of a chantry, sometime within the hospital, and all other dues and payments going out of it. That the master should not let for years or lives, the lands or tenements, nor make any woodsales of the wood, without the express consent, in writing, of the archbishop, and should yearly make an accompt to him, if demanded, so that of the surplusage all charges deducted, the portions of the brethren and sisters might be increased at the will of the archbishop, as theretofore had been used. That the in-brethren or sisters, master or schoolmaster, who should die within the precincts of the hospital, might be buried within the church-yard of the cathedral, according to a former agreement made between the archbishop, his predecessor and the then prior and convent of Christ church, with many other orders and re gulations mentioned in them, (fn. 20) all which were confirmed and ordered to be inrolled in chancery, by an act passed in the 27th year of that reign, (fn. 21) by the means of which, the rights of this hospital have been preserved to this time.

 

There have been some few modern benefactors to this hospital.

 

Mr. Avery Sabin, sometime an alderman of this city, by his will in 1648, gave a rent charge out of his estate at Monkton, in Thanet, of 20l. per annum, for charitable uses to the poor of this city, of which, ten marcs were assigned yearly to be paid to the five in-brothers and five in-sisters of this hospital. (fn. 22)

 

Mrs. Elizabeth Lovejoy, widow, by her will in 1694, gave, out of her personal estate, the sum of five pounds yearly to this hospital, to be shared and divided among the poor of it, in like manner as her gift to Cogan's hospital, above-mentioned. Besides which, this hospital receives yearly the sixth part of the interest, due from 1631. 16s. 3d. being the sum due from Mrs. Masters's legacy, who died in 1716, which is vested in the mayor and commonalty, in trust, for the several hospitals in Canterbury, of which a full account may be seen among the charitable benefactions to this city.

 

In 1708 John Battely, D. D. archdeacon of Canterbury, and master of this hospital, new built three of the sisters lodgings, and did several other great repairs, and at his death left by his will, to the in-brothers and sisters, one hundred pounds, the interest of which he ordered should be proportioned by Mr. John Bradock, of St. Stephen's, and Mr. Somerscales, vicar of Doddington.

 

Mr. John Bradock, master of this hospital, in 1719 gave by his will, 25l. 13s. 4d. for the better payment of the poor people, at Lady-day and Michaelmas.

 

Mr. Matthew Brown, of St. Peter's, in Canterbury, in 1721, gave by his will 10s. per annum for ever, to the in brothers and sisters of this hospital.

 

In 1768, Thomas Hanson, esq. of Crosby-square, London, gave by will, the interest of 500l, for ever, to the in brothers and sisters of this hospital; which being now invested in the 3 per cents. reduced Bank Annuties, produces 17l. 1os. per annum.

 

Besides these, the hospital had many temporary benefactors, as well towards the repairs of it, as in money; among which were, the archbishops Juxon, Sheldon and Sancrost. The yearly tenths of this hospital amounting to 2l. 7s. 10d. are payable to the archbishop.

 

In 1691, the yearly revenues of this hospital amounted in the whole to 101l. 5s. 9d. besides which were the fines upon the renewals of the leafes, and alderman Sabine's gift of 13s 4d. a piece, by the year, which came not into the master's hands, but was paid by one of the aldermen of the city.

 

The present building is antient; it has a decent hall and chapel, where the schoolmaster, who has a good apartment in the house, and is called the reader, instructs twenty boys gratis, in reading, writing, and arithmetic. There are rooms also for five in brothers, and five in-sisters, but some of these rooms are subject to be flooded in a very wet season. (fn. 23) The master has a neat handsome house, sitauted in a court near the hospital, but on the western or opposite side of the river.

 

¶The antient common seal of this hospital having been for a long time missing, the late master, Dr. Backhouse, at his own expence, supplied the hospital with another in the year 1783.

 

www.british-history.ac.uk/survey-kent/vol12/pp115-135

A fun vintage trivet or cheese tray featuring a juicy red apple. : )

Second weekend of the annual Heritage event. It seems wrong to call it a weekend as it now compromises two weekends and many meedweek events too.

 

And scanning the events, there were some in Canterbury, so we decide to head to the city for a wander: jools would go shopping while I would go and do some snapping.

 

Of course there is always shopping first. Off to Tesco to fill the car, then fill the fridge and larder. I am away for three days, nearly four, so not much needed on top of some ready meals for Jools. Still came to seventy quid, mind.

 

A tub of cheese footballs did fall into the trolley, which helped.

 

Back home for breakfast of fruit and more coffee, and then off to Canterbury, parking near St Augustine's Abbey, walking to the centre via a subway. We parted, Jools went to Body Shop and a couple of other shops, while I walked down High Street, past the Eastbridge Hospital, Westgate Tower, Canterbury West station to St Dunstan's.

 

I could say I walked straight there, but I had a quarter of an hour to play with, so when I walked past a pasty shop, I went in for a coffee, and although wasn't really hungry, I did have a pasty anyway.

 

Once fed and watered, I walk on, up the hill past the station, and on the left was the church, the door already open despite it being only five to nine.

 

I went in, and found I had the church to myself.

 

Last time I was here, the Roper Chapel was being renovated and so I couldn't get inside. Important as it is in the chapel that the head of Thomas Moor, beheaded on Tower Hill on orders of Henry VIII. The windows of the chapel have several representation of him and scenes from his life. I snap them all.

 

I go round with the wide angle lens, now the church is fully open again.

 

That done, I walk back down into the centre heading for Eastbridge Hospital.

 

I have been here before, a decade ago, when I went round with just my wide angle lens, and go a few poor shots. So, with it being open for the Heritage Event, it seemed a good idea to go.

 

The hospital is ancient, it goes without saying, and is still in use.

 

I have walked up and down High Street in Canterbury dozens of times, and never really thought about what lay behind buildings on the west side.

 

At Eastbridge the ancient hospital straddles the Stour, or one branch of it, on the other is the timber framed house, Weavers, with the ducking stool further downstream.

 

I re-visited the hospital, and on the way out was told I could visit the gardens and Greyfriars Chapel at the same time.

 

A shop, former pawnbrokers, is now a charity shop for the gardens, and through the shop there is an exit to a path beside the river.

 

This opens out into two acres of gardens, still used to feed the patients in the hospital, and the monks who still live and work here.

 

There used to be a large priory church here, and there are parts of ancient walls and ruins to be seen, as well as a bridge of the same age.

 

Over the river, a former lodging building from the 13th century, as been converted into a chapel, Greyfriars, with pillars supporting the building as the river passes through a tunnel under it.

 

It was rather like walking through a wardrobe into a magical place, with the Stour gently flowing through it, and a few other visitors making their was to the Chapel and surrounding gardens.

 

We sat for 45 minutes in the meadow waiting for a service to end, so I could get shots. So, we people watched and delighted in Migrant Hawkers flying by.

 

Franciscan Gardens, Canterbury, Kent The sounds of the city seemed a hundred miles away.

 

I got the shots once the group of ladies left, and once I had the three shots, we followed sign to the exit, leaving the garden through a plane gate beside the old post office.

 

Two hundred and sixty Now what?

 

Well, nothing. Really.

 

So, we walk back slowly to the car, pay for three hours parking and drive back out of the city, down the A2 to the coast and home.

 

Back in time to listen to the footy, have a brew and try to avoid eating as we were going out in the evening. As, on Monday, it will be 14 years since we married, and as I will be in another country Monday, we celebrated it two days early.

 

Or would do come six.

 

Norwich were going for seven wins in a row, but never really got going against WBA, and fell a goal behind early on. Better in the second half, and drew level thanks to a deflection, but no win. But also, no defeat either.

 

Franciscan Gardens, Canterbury, Kent I had a shower and put on some clean clothes and a splash of aftershave.

 

Ready.

 

I drive us to Jen's, picked her up, then drove slowly to Sandwich, then over the marshes through Preston to Stourmouth.

 

We were not the only customers; there was a wedding reception, and there were gentlement and boys in three piece suits, and ladies and girls in glamourous gowns and neck-breaking heels. Occasionally the bride would literally sweep through the bar, the train of her dress cleaning as it went. Not sure if what was the right colour.....

 

We had ordered when I booked the table, a huge pan of paella with chorizo, chicken, ham and shrimp. Jen and I shared a bottle of red, and we ate and watched the comings and goings as the wedding party got ever more rauocus.

 

We rounded off with a cheeseboard between the three of us, and that was it.

 

Jools drove us back to Jen's, dropping her off, then back home.

 

I had decided to open the bottle of port once home, and did. This has been on the shelf since my last trip to Denmark and I saw it at the airport duty free.

 

It was every bit of good that I hoped it would be.

 

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The Hospital of St Thomas the Martyr of Eastbridge was founded in the 12th century in Canterbury, England, to provide overnight accommodation for poor pilgrims to the shrine of St Thomas Becket. It is now one of the ten almshouses still providing accommodation for elderly citizens of Canterbury[1] and is a grade I listed building.

 

The hospital is situated on the King's-bridge, near the Westgate, in Canterbury. It was established sometime after the death of Thomas Becket (1170), possibly as early as 1176, when Canterbury Cathedral became a site of pilgrimage; the hospital provided accommodation for the pilgrims. The earliest name recorded as founder is that of Edward FitzOdbold c. 1190, with further endowments by Archbishop Hubert Walter about 1203.[1] For many years, no special statutes were enacted, nor were any rules laid down for the treatment of pilgrims.

 

The original building consists of an entrance hall, undercroft, refectory and chapel, all built in around 1190. Like the ancient Entrance Hall beneath it, the Pilgrims’ Chapel dates from the twelfth century, but assumed its present proportions in the fourteenth century. The roof of the Pilgrims’ Chapel is a fine example of its kind: the style of woodwork and joinery indicate that it was built around 1285. The Undercroft's original function was as a dormitory, and architecturally shows the period of time where the round-headed arch was giving way to the Gothic style of pointed arch.

 

The Refectory is a large open room originally used as a dining space. On the north wall is a painting of Our Lord in Glory between the symbols of the four Evangelists dating from the thirteenth century. This fresco was only uncovered when the chimney and fireplace installed around the time of the dissolution were removed in 1879, and it has been conserved since its revelation.

 

Approval for the funding of a Chantry Chapel was sanctioned by Archbishop Sudbury in 1375; the original document confirming this endowment is housed in the Canterbury Cathedral archives. (Chantries were abolished in 1547, and this fell into disrepair until it was reclaimed and restored for its original use in 1969.)

  

Hospital of St. Thomas, Canterbury, old engraving.

In the fourteenth century the hospital was reformed by Archbishop John de Stratford, during the reign of Edward III; he created ordinances, as well as a code of regulations to be acted on concerning pilgrims. He ruled that every pilgrim in health could rest in the hospital for one night at the cost of four pence, that weak and infirm applicants were to be preferred to those with better health, and that women "upwards of forty" should attend to the bedding and administer medicines to the sick. He also appointed a Master in priest's orders, under whose guidance a secular chaplain served. Further lands and revenues from parishes were given by Stratford and by Archbishop Simon Sudbury.[1]

 

This institution survived the Dissolution of the Monasteries and other religious houses during the reigns of Henry VIII and Edward VI, although the pilgrimage to St Thomas of Canterbury did not survive this period. In 1569 Archbishop Matthew Parker issued new ordinances governing the Hospital and its Master which specified the maintenance of twelve beds for the 'wayfaring poor' and established a school in the chapel for twenty boys. This arrangement was confirmed by Archbishop John Whitgift by Act of Parliament in 1584.[1]

 

The school survived until 1879. The chapel was then little used until its restoration by the Master in 1927. Further restoration work has taken place during the twentieth century. Much of this work was financed by sale of some of the hospital's lands at Blean at the foundation of the University of Kent in the 1960s.[1] A list of the Masters of the Eastbridge Hospital up to the end of the eighteenth century is given by Edward Hasted.

 

Between 2014–2019, extensive restoration took place to preserve those rooms situated directly over the River Stour. This work was supported by the Viridor Credits scheme, which funds community, heritage, and biodiversity projects. It was formally opened to the public by the Bishop of Dover on 23 March 2019, and named after Archbishop William Juxon, who was a generous benefactor during his tenure, and gave money for an earlier restoration of this part of Eastbridge.

 

Eastbridge is a functional almshouse to this day, providing accommodation in eight individual apartments in areas of the buildings inaccessible to the public. Eastbridge is administered by Trustees whose main aims are the maintenance of the ancient buildings, which are of national historic interest, and the welfare of the almshouse residents (Indwellers).

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eastbridge_Hospital_of_St_Thomas_th...

 

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THE HOSPITAL OF KING'S BRIDGE, ALIAS EASTBRIDGE

IS likewise situated in the same hundred, being exempt from the liberties of the city, and within the jurisdiction of the county of Kent at large. It takes its name from its situation close on the south side of King's bridge. This hospital was formerly called, by both the names of Eastbridge hospital and the hospital of St. Thomas the martyr of Eastbridge; which latter it had, from its being at first erected and endowed by the charity and piety of St. Thomas Becket, in king Henry II.'s reign. (fn. 1) For this we have the testimony of one of his successors, archbishop Stratford; who, upon his new ordination of the hospital, and in the charter of it, acknowledged archbishop Becket to be the first founder and endower of it; besides which, there is no other record extant, or to be found concerning the foundation of this hospital, or the intent why it was erected. (fn. 2) But to look back to the times intervening between these two founders, in which it is recorded, that archbishop Hubert, who sat in this see in king John's reign, was an especial benefactor to it, by the gift of several mills, tithes, and other premises, which were confirmed by the prior and convent of Christ church. In this archbishop's time there was another hospital, neighbouring to this of King's, alias Eastbridge, called Cokyn's hospital, built and en dowed by one William Cokyn, a citizen of Canterbury, whose name in his posterity long survived him, in this city. (fn. 3) This hospital was dedicated to St. Nicholas and the Virgin and martyr St. Catherine; and was situated in the parish of St. Peter, almost directly opposite to the late Black Friars-gate, having had a lane by it, once called Cokyn's lane, though long since shut up, and built upon. This hospital lastmentioned, was built on the scite of a house adjoining to the above William Cokyn's dwelling, or else was turned into one by him. Afterwards, by his charter, he united these two hospitals, and then by another charter, entitled them to all his lands, possessions and chattels, and made them his heirs. This union was confirmed by the bull of pope Innocent III. anno 1203, in which it is called the hospital of St. Thomas of Canterbury; and in Cokyn's grant of union, it is stiled the hospital of St. Nicholas, St. Catherine, and St. Thomas the Martyr of Eastbridge. (fn. 4) Eastbridge hospital becoming thus by union or consolidation possessed of and owners of Cokyn's hospital, it ceased soon afterwards, probably, to be used as one, and was hired or rented out, among the possessions of the hospital of Eastbridge; in which state it continues at this time. (fn. 5)

 

To return now again to the hospital of St. Thomas of Eastbridge, for which there being no statutes for the government of it, archbishop Stratford, anno 15 Edward III. drew up certain ordinances for that purpose, (fn. 6) the effect of which was, that the hospital being founded for the receiving, lodging and sustaining of poor pilgrims, was then, owing to the negligence of the masters, who had wasted the revenues of it, but meanly endowed, and that the buildings of it were in a ruinous condition: to remedy which, and to continue the charitable intent of it, he decreed, that the church of St. Nicholas, Harbledown, should be for ever appropriated to it; that for the government of this hospital, there should be a master in priest's orders, appointed by the archbishop and his successors, who should keep a proper secular chaplain, or vicar, under him, to be removed at the master's will and pleasure. That such poor pilgrims as happened to die within this hospital, should be buried in Christ church yard, in the place heretofore allotted to them there. That every pilgrim, in health, should have no more than one night's lodging and entertainment, at the expence of 4d. that there should be twelve beds in the hospital, and that some woman, upwards of forty years of age, should look after the beds and provide all necessaries for the pilgrims; that those who were not in health, should be preferred to such as were; that no lepers should be received into it; that if there was a smaller number of pilgrims reforting to the hospital, at any one time, a greater number should be received into it, in lieu of such deficiency, at other times, as far as the revenues of the hospital would allow of it; and further, he inhibited them from having any common seal in the hospital, with several other particular orders and injunction, as may be seen in the instrument more at large.

 

This hospital had several very liberal benefactors in early times. Among others, Hamo de Crevequer gave the church of Blean to it, which gift was afterwards confirmed by archbishop Stephen Langton, and was afterwards appropriated to it by archbishop Sudbury in 1375, Thomas, lord Roos, of Hamlake, in the 33d year of king Edward III. gave the manor of Blean to it, and the year afterwards Sir John Lee, as appears by the ledger of the hospital, gave to it a messuage, with 180 acres of land and divers rents of assize, in the same parish, for the increase of vorks of piety in it. (fn. 7)

 

In the year 1362, archbishop Islip founded a perpetual chantry in this hospital, and transferred to it, for the benefit of it, at the request of Bartholomew de Bourne, the chantry founded in the church of Livingsborne, alias Beaksborne, by his ancestor James de Bourne. (fn. 8)

 

By the instruments of the archbishops Islip and Sudbury, dated in the above year, it appears, by the former, that there was founded in this hospital, a perpetual chantry for divine services; the priest of which was to receive a yearly stipend of ten marcs, of the master of the hospital, out of the revenues of it; for which he was to celebrate divine service, and minister the sacraments and sacramentals in it, to such poor and infirm as should resort hither; and that the priest and his successors should possess the mansion, within the bounds of the hospital, between the infirmary and the great gate of it, and the chamber over it. After which king Edward III, having given a messuage, called the Chaunge, at the time almost wholly in ruins, to Thomas Newe de Wolton, then master of this hospital, and his successors, in aid of the maintenance of the priest who should celebrate in it for his health, for his soul afterwards, and that of John at Lee, who in part founded the chantry, &c. and the said messuage having been repaired and rebuilt by the executors, and at the cost, though charity, of his predecessor, the value of the rent amounted to seven marcs yearly, and would, as it was presumed, amount still higher in future; and it being difficult at that time to find a proper priest, who would undergo the duty and residence required in it, for the salary of ten marcs, the king's piety in augmenting the priest's stipend, was as yet frustrated—Archbishop Simon Sudbury, therefore, by his instrument dated in 1375, in which he recited the above ordination of his predecessor, ordained and decreed, in addition to that before-mentioned, and by the consent of the said Thomas, master of this hospital, and the executors of his predecessor, that the endowment of this chantry of ten marcs, should be augmented with five marcs and an half out of the seven marcs of rent of the messuage given by the king as aforesaid, with power of distress, &c. and whereas the presentation of the chantry of Bourne, united to this hospital, as in the ordination of the first chantry aforesaid made by his predecessor, more plainly appeared, belonged to Bartholomew de Bourne, his heirs, or assigns, before the union; he therefore decreed and ordained, that the presentation and collation to be made to the same, when vacant, should belong to him and his successors, and to the said Bartholomew de Bourne, his heirs, or assigns, alternately; the first turn to belong to the archbishop, because the assigns of Bartholomew de Bourne (fn. 9) had presented the then incumbent to it, &c. (fn. 10)

 

Though the revenues of this hospital lay chiesly in the parish of Blean, yet it was possessed of other rents, lands and tenements in Canterbury, Harbledown, and in Birchington. It was likewise possessed of lands in Herne, Reculver, Swaycliffe, Chistlet, and Bekesborne, belonging to the before-mentioned chantry, which at the suppression of it were seized on, as such.

 

By a bull of pope Honorius III. this hospital had the privilege of not paying tithes of their gardens. (fn. 11)

 

By the return made to the king's commissioners in king Henry VIII.'s reign, it appears, that there was here a neat handsome chapel, dedicated to the Virgin Mary, to which had belonged two bells, to ring to service, as was reported to them by the parson and churchwardens of All Saints; who said further, that this hospital was a parish church, in which there was ministred all sacraments and sacramentals, to the poor people resorting thither, and to the keeper of it, and his household, and all others remaining within the precinct of it, by the chantry priest; the matter of fact was, that this chapel was formerly served by the chantry priest of the chantry in it, mentioned before, to have been transferred to it, who had 10l. 6s. 8d. yearly stipend or wages, besides his mansion or dwelling, which was at the west end of the hospital, of all which it was deprived at the suppression of it by the statute of the 1st year of king Edward VI. (fn. 12) when a pension of six pounds per annum was granted to Nicholas Thompson, alias Campion, the incumbent of it, which was remaining anno 1553. (fn. 13)

 

The value of the revenues of the hospital itself, as returned anno 26 Henry VIII. according to both Dugdale and Speed, were 23l. 18s. 9⅓d. per annum, but this must have been the clear income, for according to Sancrost's manuscript valor, they amounted in the whole to 43l. 12s. 3d. (fn. 14)

 

The state of this hospital, as it stood in the time of cardinal Pole, at archdeacon Harpsfield's visitation in 1557, was, as appears by the entry in the book of it; that they were bound to receive way faring and hurt men, and to have eight beds for men, and four for women; to remain for a might, and more, if they were not able to depart; and the master of the hospital to be charged with their burial, and they had twenty lords of wood yearly allowed, and 26s. a year for drink, that there was 10l. land a year, with a mansion, which the priest always had for officiating in the chapel, taken away by the king, and that it was the head church to St. Cosmus and St. Damian Blean, but that they had no ornaments but organs. (fn. 15)

 

This hospital, though it outlasted the general suppression of most of the foundations of the like sort in the reigns of king Henry VIII. and king Edward VI. yet in the beginning of queen Elizabeth's reign, the lands and tenements belonging to it, as well as the hospital itself, then converted into tenements, were occu pied and possessed by private persons, until archbishop Parker, in the 10th year of that reign, recovered, by his prudent care, some of the lands and possessions, and restored the house again to pious and charitable uses. He framed new ordinances for the government of it, which he wisely contrived should be suitable to those times, as well as agreeable to the first foundation of the hospital, and the former statutes of archbishop Stratford, as far as might be; reserving nevertheless, a power to his successors, archbishops of Canterbury, to revise, alter, abolish and new make all, or any part of them; they are dated May 20, 1569. (fn. 16)

 

In them it appears, that in consequence of the ordinances of archbishop Stratford, the master of the hospital might take all the profits of it to his own use, bestowing only for the relief of wandering and wayfaring brethren, and poor, in bread and drink, after the rate of 4d. a day, and one night's lodging for twelve persons, if so many came there at one time, in the whole not above 6l. 2s. 6d. per annum, but the archbishop (Parker) by the authority in the above former ordinance concerning the disposition of the profits of this hospital, to him and his successors reserved, to alter and change the same, did by these ordinances in that behalf made, under his hand and seal, not only increase the above sum, to be from thenceforth bestowed on certain poor inhabiting within the county of the city of Canterbury, but also appointed other sums of money thereout, yearly to be paid towards the keeping of a freeschool, for a certain number of poor children of the county of the said city, to be taught to write and read freely within the hospital.

 

By the same ordinance, as well as by an indenture, between the master of this hospital and the master of Corpus Christi, or Benet college, in Cambridge, dated May 22, anno 11th Elizabeth, the archbishop founded out of the revenues of this hospital, two scholarships, each of the yearly value of 3l. 6s. 8d. that sum to be paid yearly from thence, by the master of the hospital to the master of the college; the two scholars to be chosen, named, examined and approved by the master of this hospital and the dean of Canterbury, if any such there should be; if not, then by the master only, and to be taken from the free-school in Canterbury, being such of the scholars there as were born within Kent, and being sent to Cambridge, should be called Canterbury scholars; who, after their admittance and receipt there, should remain and continue in that college, according to the orders and statutes of it, and should have of the provision of it, convenient chambers, commons, reading and other necessaries, as other scholars in it, according to common custom, for the term of two hundred years next, from the date of the indenture, with other rules and regulations in it relating to them. (fn. 17)

 

Not long after this, queen Elizabeth issued a commission of charitable uses, to enquire into the state and condition of this hospital, which was done, and a return thereof made accordingly; and again, soon after the death of archbishop Parker, there was a second commission, directed to Sir James Hales and others, who certisied, that the hospital house stood ruinated, and neither master nor brethren were resident, or dwelling of long time. The house was let out into tenements for yearly rent. The beds that were wont to lodge and harbour poor people resorting thither, were gone and sold, contrary to the old order and foundation of the same; and that the hospital was relinquished and concealed from the queen, &c. Upon which, she granted it, with all its revenues, by letters patent, dated July 20, in her 18th year, to John Farnham, one of her gentlemen pensioners, to hold in see farm for ever. —He soon afterwards conveyed his interest in it for 550l. and the release beside of a debt owing by him, to Geo. Hayes. After this, archbishop Whitgift recovered this hospital, with the revenues of it, from Hayes, and then settled it upon a new foundation, so firm and sure, that it has continued to the present time, and remains a perpetual monument of the archbishop's piety and prudence, who may be justly reputed the sounder and restorer of it; (fn. 18) and he framed new ordinances and statutes, for the better government of it, by which the hospital is now ruled. In these it is, among other things, ordered and decreed, that the archbishop should collate the master, who should be in holy orders, and should be instituted and inducted according to the usual form and custom, who should have the lodging known by the name of the master's lodging, in the hospital; and a yearly stipend of 61. 13s. 4d. and twenty loads of wood from the lands belonging to it, to be delivered cost free. That the master should appoint a school-master, who by himself or deputy, should freely instruct twenty poor children of this city, above the age of seven years, to write, read and cast accompts, and to have books, paper, &c. provided for them, out of the prosits of the hospital, and not to remain in the school above three years. The school-master to have a lodging in the hospital, and a stipend of four pounds, and for his further relief, if the master approved of it, to be receiver of the rents, &c. of the hospital; for which he should receive 26s. 8d. and two loads of wood yearly, to be delivered cost free, and one summer livery cloth. That out of the prosits of the hospital, there should be paid for ever, to the two scholars to be taken out of the common school at Canterbury, commonly called the mynte, by the master of the hospital, with the consent of the archbishop, and placed in Benet college, 3l. 6s. 8d. each, according to the former ordinances made of it. That whereas by former ordinances, the master of the hospital was only tied to pay in time of peace, unto the poor passengers, or to such other poor people as the master should think good, thirty pence a week; and in time of war that payment ceasing, to provide twelve beds for the lodging of poor soldiers, passing through this city, within the hospital, for the space of one night only, which is now grown wholly out of use, especially since the loss of Calais; therefore, for the better relief of the poor inhabiting within this city and the suburbs of it, it was ordered, that the former last recited orders should cease, and instead of them, there should be five inbrothers, and five in-sisters, to be permanent and have their habitation in the hospital; and after the space of twenty years next ensuing, there should be five other out-brothers, and five others called out-sisters; each of the said in-brothers and in-sisters to have a several dwelling and lodging within the hospital, and 26s. 8d. by the year, and one load of wood to be delivered cost free, between Midsummer and Michaelmas; and each of the out brothers and out-sisters to have 26s. 8d. by the year only; that the mayor of this city should from time to time, nominate to the master of the hospital for every of the brothers and sisters rooms, when they should be void and unfurnished, two poor persons, men or women, as the places should require, being lame, impotent, blind, or aged, above fifty years of age, who should have inhabited within the city, of suburbs, seven years before; of which two, the master should chuse and admit one; and in default of the mayor's nomi nating for the space of three months, the master to make choice, and admit any, qualisied as above-mentioned. That in the room of every out-brother and sister, the mayor should nominate such persons as above specisied, whereof one at least should be such as had dwelt in the city or suburbs, by the space of three whole years at least, to the end that such as dwelt there, and not within the county of the city, should receive the whole benefit of these ordinances. That the master, out of the profits of the hospital, should repair and sustain it, and every part within the precincts of it, and also sufficiently sustain and maintain the bridge, called the king's bridge, alias Eastbridge, within the city of Canterbury; (fn. 19) and pay to the queen, her heirs and successors, 7l. 10s. yearly, due to her for the pension of a chantry, sometime within the hospital, and all other dues and payments going out of it. That the master should not let for years or lives, the lands or tenements, nor make any woodsales of the wood, without the express consent, in writing, of the archbishop, and should yearly make an accompt to him, if demanded, so that of the surplusage all charges deducted, the portions of the brethren and sisters might be increased at the will of the archbishop, as theretofore had been used. That the in-brethren or sisters, master or schoolmaster, who should die within the precincts of the hospital, might be buried within the church-yard of the cathedral, according to a former agreement made between the archbishop, his predecessor and the then prior and convent of Christ church, with many other orders and re gulations mentioned in them, (fn. 20) all which were confirmed and ordered to be inrolled in chancery, by an act passed in the 27th year of that reign, (fn. 21) by the means of which, the rights of this hospital have been preserved to this time.

 

There have been some few modern benefactors to this hospital.

 

Mr. Avery Sabin, sometime an alderman of this city, by his will in 1648, gave a rent charge out of his estate at Monkton, in Thanet, of 20l. per annum, for charitable uses to the poor of this city, of which, ten marcs were assigned yearly to be paid to the five in-brothers and five in-sisters of this hospital. (fn. 22)

 

Mrs. Elizabeth Lovejoy, widow, by her will in 1694, gave, out of her personal estate, the sum of five pounds yearly to this hospital, to be shared and divided among the poor of it, in like manner as her gift to Cogan's hospital, above-mentioned. Besides which, this hospital receives yearly the sixth part of the interest, due from 1631. 16s. 3d. being the sum due from Mrs. Masters's legacy, who died in 1716, which is vested in the mayor and commonalty, in trust, for the several hospitals in Canterbury, of which a full account may be seen among the charitable benefactions to this city.

 

In 1708 John Battely, D. D. archdeacon of Canterbury, and master of this hospital, new built three of the sisters lodgings, and did several other great repairs, and at his death left by his will, to the in-brothers and sisters, one hundred pounds, the interest of which he ordered should be proportioned by Mr. John Bradock, of St. Stephen's, and Mr. Somerscales, vicar of Doddington.

 

Mr. John Bradock, master of this hospital, in 1719 gave by his will, 25l. 13s. 4d. for the better payment of the poor people, at Lady-day and Michaelmas.

 

Mr. Matthew Brown, of St. Peter's, in Canterbury, in 1721, gave by his will 10s. per annum for ever, to the in brothers and sisters of this hospital.

 

In 1768, Thomas Hanson, esq. of Crosby-square, London, gave by will, the interest of 500l, for ever, to the in brothers and sisters of this hospital; which being now invested in the 3 per cents. reduced Bank Annuties, produces 17l. 1os. per annum.

 

Besides these, the hospital had many temporary benefactors, as well towards the repairs of it, as in money; among which were, the archbishops Juxon, Sheldon and Sancrost. The yearly tenths of this hospital amounting to 2l. 7s. 10d. are payable to the archbishop.

 

In 1691, the yearly revenues of this hospital amounted in the whole to 101l. 5s. 9d. besides which were the fines upon the renewals of the leafes, and alderman Sabine's gift of 13s 4d. a piece, by the year, which came not into the master's hands, but was paid by one of the aldermen of the city.

 

The present building is antient; it has a decent hall and chapel, where the schoolmaster, who has a good apartment in the house, and is called the reader, instructs twenty boys gratis, in reading, writing, and arithmetic. There are rooms also for five in brothers, and five in-sisters, but some of these rooms are subject to be flooded in a very wet season. (fn. 23) The master has a neat handsome house, sitauted in a court near the hospital, but on the western or opposite side of the river.

 

¶The antient common seal of this hospital having been for a long time missing, the late master, Dr. Backhouse, at his own expence, supplied the hospital with another in the year 1783.

 

www.british-history.ac.uk/survey-kent/vol12/pp115-135

Second weekend of the annual Heritage event. It seems wrong to call it a weekend as it now compromises two weekends and many meedweek events too.

 

And scanning the events, there were some in Canterbury, so we decide to head to the city for a wander: jools would go shopping while I would go and do some snapping.

 

Of course there is always shopping first. Off to Tesco to fill the car, then fill the fridge and larder. I am away for three days, nearly four, so not much needed on top of some ready meals for Jools. Still came to seventy quid, mind.

 

A tub of cheese footballs did fall into the trolley, which helped.

 

Back home for breakfast of fruit and more coffee, and then off to Canterbury, parking near St Augustine's Abbey, walking to the centre via a subway. We parted, Jools went to Body Shop and a couple of other shops, while I walked down High Street, past the Eastbridge Hospital, Westgate Tower, Canterbury West station to St Dunstan's.

 

I could say I walked straight there, but I had a quarter of an hour to play with, so when I walked past a pasty shop, I went in for a coffee, and although wasn't really hungry, I did have a pasty anyway.

 

Once fed and watered, I walk on, up the hill past the station, and on the left was the church, the door already open despite it being only five to nine.

 

I went in, and found I had the church to myself.

 

Last time I was here, the Roper Chapel was being renovated and so I couldn't get inside. Important as it is in the chapel that the head of Thomas Moor, beheaded on Tower Hill on orders of Henry VIII. The windows of the chapel have several representation of him and scenes from his life. I snap them all.

 

I go round with the wide angle lens, now the church is fully open again.

 

That done, I walk back down into the centre heading for Eastbridge Hospital.

 

I have been here before, a decade ago, when I went round with just my wide angle lens, and go a few poor shots. So, with it being open for the Heritage Event, it seemed a good idea to go.

 

The hospital is ancient, it goes without saying, and is still in use.

 

I have walked up and down High Street in Canterbury dozens of times, and never really thought about what lay behind buildings on the west side.

 

At Eastbridge the ancient hospital straddles the Stour, or one branch of it, on the other is the timber framed house, Weavers, with the ducking stool further downstream.

 

I re-visited the hospital, and on the way out was told I could visit the gardens and Greyfriars Chapel at the same time.

 

A shop, former pawnbrokers, is now a charity shop for the gardens, and through the shop there is an exit to a path beside the river.

 

This opens out into two acres of gardens, still used to feed the patients in the hospital, and the monks who still live and work here.

 

There used to be a large priory church here, and there are parts of ancient walls and ruins to be seen, as well as a bridge of the same age.

 

Over the river, a former lodging building from the 13th century, as been converted into a chapel, Greyfriars, with pillars supporting the building as the river passes through a tunnel under it.

 

It was rather like walking through a wardrobe into a magical place, with the Stour gently flowing through it, and a few other visitors making their was to the Chapel and surrounding gardens.

 

We sat for 45 minutes in the meadow waiting for a service to end, so I could get shots. So, we people watched and delighted in Migrant Hawkers flying by.

 

Franciscan Gardens, Canterbury, Kent The sounds of the city seemed a hundred miles away.

 

I got the shots once the group of ladies left, and once I had the three shots, we followed sign to the exit, leaving the garden through a plane gate beside the old post office.

 

Two hundred and sixty Now what?

 

Well, nothing. Really.

 

So, we walk back slowly to the car, pay for three hours parking and drive back out of the city, down the A2 to the coast and home.

 

Back in time to listen to the footy, have a brew and try to avoid eating as we were going out in the evening. As, on Monday, it will be 14 years since we married, and as I will be in another country Monday, we celebrated it two days early.

 

Or would do come six.

 

Norwich were going for seven wins in a row, but never really got going against WBA, and fell a goal behind early on. Better in the second half, and drew level thanks to a deflection, but no win. But also, no defeat either.

 

Franciscan Gardens, Canterbury, Kent I had a shower and put on some clean clothes and a splash of aftershave.

 

Ready.

 

I drive us to Jen's, picked her up, then drove slowly to Sandwich, then over the marshes through Preston to Stourmouth.

 

We were not the only customers; there was a wedding reception, and there were gentlement and boys in three piece suits, and ladies and girls in glamourous gowns and neck-breaking heels. Occasionally the bride would literally sweep through the bar, the train of her dress cleaning as it went. Not sure if what was the right colour.....

 

We had ordered when I booked the table, a huge pan of paella with chorizo, chicken, ham and shrimp. Jen and I shared a bottle of red, and we ate and watched the comings and goings as the wedding party got ever more rauocus.

 

We rounded off with a cheeseboard between the three of us, and that was it.

 

Jools drove us back to Jen's, dropping her off, then back home.

 

I had decided to open the bottle of port once home, and did. This has been on the shelf since my last trip to Denmark and I saw it at the airport duty free.

 

It was every bit of good that I hoped it would be.

 

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The Hospital of St Thomas the Martyr of Eastbridge was founded in the 12th century in Canterbury, England, to provide overnight accommodation for poor pilgrims to the shrine of St Thomas Becket. It is now one of the ten almshouses still providing accommodation for elderly citizens of Canterbury[1] and is a grade I listed building.

 

The hospital is situated on the King's-bridge, near the Westgate, in Canterbury. It was established sometime after the death of Thomas Becket (1170), possibly as early as 1176, when Canterbury Cathedral became a site of pilgrimage; the hospital provided accommodation for the pilgrims. The earliest name recorded as founder is that of Edward FitzOdbold c. 1190, with further endowments by Archbishop Hubert Walter about 1203.[1] For many years, no special statutes were enacted, nor were any rules laid down for the treatment of pilgrims.

 

The original building consists of an entrance hall, undercroft, refectory and chapel, all built in around 1190. Like the ancient Entrance Hall beneath it, the Pilgrims’ Chapel dates from the twelfth century, but assumed its present proportions in the fourteenth century. The roof of the Pilgrims’ Chapel is a fine example of its kind: the style of woodwork and joinery indicate that it was built around 1285. The Undercroft's original function was as a dormitory, and architecturally shows the period of time where the round-headed arch was giving way to the Gothic style of pointed arch.

 

The Refectory is a large open room originally used as a dining space. On the north wall is a painting of Our Lord in Glory between the symbols of the four Evangelists dating from the thirteenth century. This fresco was only uncovered when the chimney and fireplace installed around the time of the dissolution were removed in 1879, and it has been conserved since its revelation.

 

Approval for the funding of a Chantry Chapel was sanctioned by Archbishop Sudbury in 1375; the original document confirming this endowment is housed in the Canterbury Cathedral archives. (Chantries were abolished in 1547, and this fell into disrepair until it was reclaimed and restored for its original use in 1969.)

  

Hospital of St. Thomas, Canterbury, old engraving.

In the fourteenth century the hospital was reformed by Archbishop John de Stratford, during the reign of Edward III; he created ordinances, as well as a code of regulations to be acted on concerning pilgrims. He ruled that every pilgrim in health could rest in the hospital for one night at the cost of four pence, that weak and infirm applicants were to be preferred to those with better health, and that women "upwards of forty" should attend to the bedding and administer medicines to the sick. He also appointed a Master in priest's orders, under whose guidance a secular chaplain served. Further lands and revenues from parishes were given by Stratford and by Archbishop Simon Sudbury.[1]

 

This institution survived the Dissolution of the Monasteries and other religious houses during the reigns of Henry VIII and Edward VI, although the pilgrimage to St Thomas of Canterbury did not survive this period. In 1569 Archbishop Matthew Parker issued new ordinances governing the Hospital and its Master which specified the maintenance of twelve beds for the 'wayfaring poor' and established a school in the chapel for twenty boys. This arrangement was confirmed by Archbishop John Whitgift by Act of Parliament in 1584.[1]

 

The school survived until 1879. The chapel was then little used until its restoration by the Master in 1927. Further restoration work has taken place during the twentieth century. Much of this work was financed by sale of some of the hospital's lands at Blean at the foundation of the University of Kent in the 1960s.[1] A list of the Masters of the Eastbridge Hospital up to the end of the eighteenth century is given by Edward Hasted.

 

Between 2014–2019, extensive restoration took place to preserve those rooms situated directly over the River Stour. This work was supported by the Viridor Credits scheme, which funds community, heritage, and biodiversity projects. It was formally opened to the public by the Bishop of Dover on 23 March 2019, and named after Archbishop William Juxon, who was a generous benefactor during his tenure, and gave money for an earlier restoration of this part of Eastbridge.

 

Eastbridge is a functional almshouse to this day, providing accommodation in eight individual apartments in areas of the buildings inaccessible to the public. Eastbridge is administered by Trustees whose main aims are the maintenance of the ancient buildings, which are of national historic interest, and the welfare of the almshouse residents (Indwellers).

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eastbridge_Hospital_of_St_Thomas_th...

 

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THE HOSPITAL OF KING'S BRIDGE, ALIAS EASTBRIDGE

IS likewise situated in the same hundred, being exempt from the liberties of the city, and within the jurisdiction of the county of Kent at large. It takes its name from its situation close on the south side of King's bridge. This hospital was formerly called, by both the names of Eastbridge hospital and the hospital of St. Thomas the martyr of Eastbridge; which latter it had, from its being at first erected and endowed by the charity and piety of St. Thomas Becket, in king Henry II.'s reign. (fn. 1) For this we have the testimony of one of his successors, archbishop Stratford; who, upon his new ordination of the hospital, and in the charter of it, acknowledged archbishop Becket to be the first founder and endower of it; besides which, there is no other record extant, or to be found concerning the foundation of this hospital, or the intent why it was erected. (fn. 2) But to look back to the times intervening between these two founders, in which it is recorded, that archbishop Hubert, who sat in this see in king John's reign, was an especial benefactor to it, by the gift of several mills, tithes, and other premises, which were confirmed by the prior and convent of Christ church. In this archbishop's time there was another hospital, neighbouring to this of King's, alias Eastbridge, called Cokyn's hospital, built and en dowed by one William Cokyn, a citizen of Canterbury, whose name in his posterity long survived him, in this city. (fn. 3) This hospital was dedicated to St. Nicholas and the Virgin and martyr St. Catherine; and was situated in the parish of St. Peter, almost directly opposite to the late Black Friars-gate, having had a lane by it, once called Cokyn's lane, though long since shut up, and built upon. This hospital lastmentioned, was built on the scite of a house adjoining to the above William Cokyn's dwelling, or else was turned into one by him. Afterwards, by his charter, he united these two hospitals, and then by another charter, entitled them to all his lands, possessions and chattels, and made them his heirs. This union was confirmed by the bull of pope Innocent III. anno 1203, in which it is called the hospital of St. Thomas of Canterbury; and in Cokyn's grant of union, it is stiled the hospital of St. Nicholas, St. Catherine, and St. Thomas the Martyr of Eastbridge. (fn. 4) Eastbridge hospital becoming thus by union or consolidation possessed of and owners of Cokyn's hospital, it ceased soon afterwards, probably, to be used as one, and was hired or rented out, among the possessions of the hospital of Eastbridge; in which state it continues at this time. (fn. 5)

 

To return now again to the hospital of St. Thomas of Eastbridge, for which there being no statutes for the government of it, archbishop Stratford, anno 15 Edward III. drew up certain ordinances for that purpose, (fn. 6) the effect of which was, that the hospital being founded for the receiving, lodging and sustaining of poor pilgrims, was then, owing to the negligence of the masters, who had wasted the revenues of it, but meanly endowed, and that the buildings of it were in a ruinous condition: to remedy which, and to continue the charitable intent of it, he decreed, that the church of St. Nicholas, Harbledown, should be for ever appropriated to it; that for the government of this hospital, there should be a master in priest's orders, appointed by the archbishop and his successors, who should keep a proper secular chaplain, or vicar, under him, to be removed at the master's will and pleasure. That such poor pilgrims as happened to die within this hospital, should be buried in Christ church yard, in the place heretofore allotted to them there. That every pilgrim, in health, should have no more than one night's lodging and entertainment, at the expence of 4d. that there should be twelve beds in the hospital, and that some woman, upwards of forty years of age, should look after the beds and provide all necessaries for the pilgrims; that those who were not in health, should be preferred to such as were; that no lepers should be received into it; that if there was a smaller number of pilgrims reforting to the hospital, at any one time, a greater number should be received into it, in lieu of such deficiency, at other times, as far as the revenues of the hospital would allow of it; and further, he inhibited them from having any common seal in the hospital, with several other particular orders and injunction, as may be seen in the instrument more at large.

 

This hospital had several very liberal benefactors in early times. Among others, Hamo de Crevequer gave the church of Blean to it, which gift was afterwards confirmed by archbishop Stephen Langton, and was afterwards appropriated to it by archbishop Sudbury in 1375, Thomas, lord Roos, of Hamlake, in the 33d year of king Edward III. gave the manor of Blean to it, and the year afterwards Sir John Lee, as appears by the ledger of the hospital, gave to it a messuage, with 180 acres of land and divers rents of assize, in the same parish, for the increase of vorks of piety in it. (fn. 7)

 

In the year 1362, archbishop Islip founded a perpetual chantry in this hospital, and transferred to it, for the benefit of it, at the request of Bartholomew de Bourne, the chantry founded in the church of Livingsborne, alias Beaksborne, by his ancestor James de Bourne. (fn. 8)

 

By the instruments of the archbishops Islip and Sudbury, dated in the above year, it appears, by the former, that there was founded in this hospital, a perpetual chantry for divine services; the priest of which was to receive a yearly stipend of ten marcs, of the master of the hospital, out of the revenues of it; for which he was to celebrate divine service, and minister the sacraments and sacramentals in it, to such poor and infirm as should resort hither; and that the priest and his successors should possess the mansion, within the bounds of the hospital, between the infirmary and the great gate of it, and the chamber over it. After which king Edward III, having given a messuage, called the Chaunge, at the time almost wholly in ruins, to Thomas Newe de Wolton, then master of this hospital, and his successors, in aid of the maintenance of the priest who should celebrate in it for his health, for his soul afterwards, and that of John at Lee, who in part founded the chantry, &c. and the said messuage having been repaired and rebuilt by the executors, and at the cost, though charity, of his predecessor, the value of the rent amounted to seven marcs yearly, and would, as it was presumed, amount still higher in future; and it being difficult at that time to find a proper priest, who would undergo the duty and residence required in it, for the salary of ten marcs, the king's piety in augmenting the priest's stipend, was as yet frustrated—Archbishop Simon Sudbury, therefore, by his instrument dated in 1375, in which he recited the above ordination of his predecessor, ordained and decreed, in addition to that before-mentioned, and by the consent of the said Thomas, master of this hospital, and the executors of his predecessor, that the endowment of this chantry of ten marcs, should be augmented with five marcs and an half out of the seven marcs of rent of the messuage given by the king as aforesaid, with power of distress, &c. and whereas the presentation of the chantry of Bourne, united to this hospital, as in the ordination of the first chantry aforesaid made by his predecessor, more plainly appeared, belonged to Bartholomew de Bourne, his heirs, or assigns, before the union; he therefore decreed and ordained, that the presentation and collation to be made to the same, when vacant, should belong to him and his successors, and to the said Bartholomew de Bourne, his heirs, or assigns, alternately; the first turn to belong to the archbishop, because the assigns of Bartholomew de Bourne (fn. 9) had presented the then incumbent to it, &c. (fn. 10)

 

Though the revenues of this hospital lay chiesly in the parish of Blean, yet it was possessed of other rents, lands and tenements in Canterbury, Harbledown, and in Birchington. It was likewise possessed of lands in Herne, Reculver, Swaycliffe, Chistlet, and Bekesborne, belonging to the before-mentioned chantry, which at the suppression of it were seized on, as such.

 

By a bull of pope Honorius III. this hospital had the privilege of not paying tithes of their gardens. (fn. 11)

 

By the return made to the king's commissioners in king Henry VIII.'s reign, it appears, that there was here a neat handsome chapel, dedicated to the Virgin Mary, to which had belonged two bells, to ring to service, as was reported to them by the parson and churchwardens of All Saints; who said further, that this hospital was a parish church, in which there was ministred all sacraments and sacramentals, to the poor people resorting thither, and to the keeper of it, and his household, and all others remaining within the precinct of it, by the chantry priest; the matter of fact was, that this chapel was formerly served by the chantry priest of the chantry in it, mentioned before, to have been transferred to it, who had 10l. 6s. 8d. yearly stipend or wages, besides his mansion or dwelling, which was at the west end of the hospital, of all which it was deprived at the suppression of it by the statute of the 1st year of king Edward VI. (fn. 12) when a pension of six pounds per annum was granted to Nicholas Thompson, alias Campion, the incumbent of it, which was remaining anno 1553. (fn. 13)

 

The value of the revenues of the hospital itself, as returned anno 26 Henry VIII. according to both Dugdale and Speed, were 23l. 18s. 9⅓d. per annum, but this must have been the clear income, for according to Sancrost's manuscript valor, they amounted in the whole to 43l. 12s. 3d. (fn. 14)

 

The state of this hospital, as it stood in the time of cardinal Pole, at archdeacon Harpsfield's visitation in 1557, was, as appears by the entry in the book of it; that they were bound to receive way faring and hurt men, and to have eight beds for men, and four for women; to remain for a might, and more, if they were not able to depart; and the master of the hospital to be charged with their burial, and they had twenty lords of wood yearly allowed, and 26s. a year for drink, that there was 10l. land a year, with a mansion, which the priest always had for officiating in the chapel, taken away by the king, and that it was the head church to St. Cosmus and St. Damian Blean, but that they had no ornaments but organs. (fn. 15)

 

This hospital, though it outlasted the general suppression of most of the foundations of the like sort in the reigns of king Henry VIII. and king Edward VI. yet in the beginning of queen Elizabeth's reign, the lands and tenements belonging to it, as well as the hospital itself, then converted into tenements, were occu pied and possessed by private persons, until archbishop Parker, in the 10th year of that reign, recovered, by his prudent care, some of the lands and possessions, and restored the house again to pious and charitable uses. He framed new ordinances for the government of it, which he wisely contrived should be suitable to those times, as well as agreeable to the first foundation of the hospital, and the former statutes of archbishop Stratford, as far as might be; reserving nevertheless, a power to his successors, archbishops of Canterbury, to revise, alter, abolish and new make all, or any part of them; they are dated May 20, 1569. (fn. 16)

 

In them it appears, that in consequence of the ordinances of archbishop Stratford, the master of the hospital might take all the profits of it to his own use, bestowing only for the relief of wandering and wayfaring brethren, and poor, in bread and drink, after the rate of 4d. a day, and one night's lodging for twelve persons, if so many came there at one time, in the whole not above 6l. 2s. 6d. per annum, but the archbishop (Parker) by the authority in the above former ordinance concerning the disposition of the profits of this hospital, to him and his successors reserved, to alter and change the same, did by these ordinances in that behalf made, under his hand and seal, not only increase the above sum, to be from thenceforth bestowed on certain poor inhabiting within the county of the city of Canterbury, but also appointed other sums of money thereout, yearly to be paid towards the keeping of a freeschool, for a certain number of poor children of the county of the said city, to be taught to write and read freely within the hospital.

 

By the same ordinance, as well as by an indenture, between the master of this hospital and the master of Corpus Christi, or Benet college, in Cambridge, dated May 22, anno 11th Elizabeth, the archbishop founded out of the revenues of this hospital, two scholarships, each of the yearly value of 3l. 6s. 8d. that sum to be paid yearly from thence, by the master of the hospital to the master of the college; the two scholars to be chosen, named, examined and approved by the master of this hospital and the dean of Canterbury, if any such there should be; if not, then by the master only, and to be taken from the free-school in Canterbury, being such of the scholars there as were born within Kent, and being sent to Cambridge, should be called Canterbury scholars; who, after their admittance and receipt there, should remain and continue in that college, according to the orders and statutes of it, and should have of the provision of it, convenient chambers, commons, reading and other necessaries, as other scholars in it, according to common custom, for the term of two hundred years next, from the date of the indenture, with other rules and regulations in it relating to them. (fn. 17)

 

Not long after this, queen Elizabeth issued a commission of charitable uses, to enquire into the state and condition of this hospital, which was done, and a return thereof made accordingly; and again, soon after the death of archbishop Parker, there was a second commission, directed to Sir James Hales and others, who certisied, that the hospital house stood ruinated, and neither master nor brethren were resident, or dwelling of long time. The house was let out into tenements for yearly rent. The beds that were wont to lodge and harbour poor people resorting thither, were gone and sold, contrary to the old order and foundation of the same; and that the hospital was relinquished and concealed from the queen, &c. Upon which, she granted it, with all its revenues, by letters patent, dated July 20, in her 18th year, to John Farnham, one of her gentlemen pensioners, to hold in see farm for ever. —He soon afterwards conveyed his interest in it for 550l. and the release beside of a debt owing by him, to Geo. Hayes. After this, archbishop Whitgift recovered this hospital, with the revenues of it, from Hayes, and then settled it upon a new foundation, so firm and sure, that it has continued to the present time, and remains a perpetual monument of the archbishop's piety and prudence, who may be justly reputed the sounder and restorer of it; (fn. 18) and he framed new ordinances and statutes, for the better government of it, by which the hospital is now ruled. In these it is, among other things, ordered and decreed, that the archbishop should collate the master, who should be in holy orders, and should be instituted and inducted according to the usual form and custom, who should have the lodging known by the name of the master's lodging, in the hospital; and a yearly stipend of 61. 13s. 4d. and twenty loads of wood from the lands belonging to it, to be delivered cost free. That the master should appoint a school-master, who by himself or deputy, should freely instruct twenty poor children of this city, above the age of seven years, to write, read and cast accompts, and to have books, paper, &c. provided for them, out of the prosits of the hospital, and not to remain in the school above three years. The school-master to have a lodging in the hospital, and a stipend of four pounds, and for his further relief, if the master approved of it, to be receiver of the rents, &c. of the hospital; for which he should receive 26s. 8d. and two loads of wood yearly, to be delivered cost free, and one summer livery cloth. That out of the prosits of the hospital, there should be paid for ever, to the two scholars to be taken out of the common school at Canterbury, commonly called the mynte, by the master of the hospital, with the consent of the archbishop, and placed in Benet college, 3l. 6s. 8d. each, according to the former ordinances made of it. That whereas by former ordinances, the master of the hospital was only tied to pay in time of peace, unto the poor passengers, or to such other poor people as the master should think good, thirty pence a week; and in time of war that payment ceasing, to provide twelve beds for the lodging of poor soldiers, passing through this city, within the hospital, for the space of one night only, which is now grown wholly out of use, especially since the loss of Calais; therefore, for the better relief of the poor inhabiting within this city and the suburbs of it, it was ordered, that the former last recited orders should cease, and instead of them, there should be five inbrothers, and five in-sisters, to be permanent and have their habitation in the hospital; and after the space of twenty years next ensuing, there should be five other out-brothers, and five others called out-sisters; each of the said in-brothers and in-sisters to have a several dwelling and lodging within the hospital, and 26s. 8d. by the year, and one load of wood to be delivered cost free, between Midsummer and Michaelmas; and each of the out brothers and out-sisters to have 26s. 8d. by the year only; that the mayor of this city should from time to time, nominate to the master of the hospital for every of the brothers and sisters rooms, when they should be void and unfurnished, two poor persons, men or women, as the places should require, being lame, impotent, blind, or aged, above fifty years of age, who should have inhabited within the city, of suburbs, seven years before; of which two, the master should chuse and admit one; and in default of the mayor's nomi nating for the space of three months, the master to make choice, and admit any, qualisied as above-mentioned. That in the room of every out-brother and sister, the mayor should nominate such persons as above specisied, whereof one at least should be such as had dwelt in the city or suburbs, by the space of three whole years at least, to the end that such as dwelt there, and not within the county of the city, should receive the whole benefit of these ordinances. That the master, out of the profits of the hospital, should repair and sustain it, and every part within the precincts of it, and also sufficiently sustain and maintain the bridge, called the king's bridge, alias Eastbridge, within the city of Canterbury; (fn. 19) and pay to the queen, her heirs and successors, 7l. 10s. yearly, due to her for the pension of a chantry, sometime within the hospital, and all other dues and payments going out of it. That the master should not let for years or lives, the lands or tenements, nor make any woodsales of the wood, without the express consent, in writing, of the archbishop, and should yearly make an accompt to him, if demanded, so that of the surplusage all charges deducted, the portions of the brethren and sisters might be increased at the will of the archbishop, as theretofore had been used. That the in-brethren or sisters, master or schoolmaster, who should die within the precincts of the hospital, might be buried within the church-yard of the cathedral, according to a former agreement made between the archbishop, his predecessor and the then prior and convent of Christ church, with many other orders and re gulations mentioned in them, (fn. 20) all which were confirmed and ordered to be inrolled in chancery, by an act passed in the 27th year of that reign, (fn. 21) by the means of which, the rights of this hospital have been preserved to this time.

 

There have been some few modern benefactors to this hospital.

 

Mr. Avery Sabin, sometime an alderman of this city, by his will in 1648, gave a rent charge out of his estate at Monkton, in Thanet, of 20l. per annum, for charitable uses to the poor of this city, of which, ten marcs were assigned yearly to be paid to the five in-brothers and five in-sisters of this hospital. (fn. 22)

 

Mrs. Elizabeth Lovejoy, widow, by her will in 1694, gave, out of her personal estate, the sum of five pounds yearly to this hospital, to be shared and divided among the poor of it, in like manner as her gift to Cogan's hospital, above-mentioned. Besides which, this hospital receives yearly the sixth part of the interest, due from 1631. 16s. 3d. being the sum due from Mrs. Masters's legacy, who died in 1716, which is vested in the mayor and commonalty, in trust, for the several hospitals in Canterbury, of which a full account may be seen among the charitable benefactions to this city.

 

In 1708 John Battely, D. D. archdeacon of Canterbury, and master of this hospital, new built three of the sisters lodgings, and did several other great repairs, and at his death left by his will, to the in-brothers and sisters, one hundred pounds, the interest of which he ordered should be proportioned by Mr. John Bradock, of St. Stephen's, and Mr. Somerscales, vicar of Doddington.

 

Mr. John Bradock, master of this hospital, in 1719 gave by his will, 25l. 13s. 4d. for the better payment of the poor people, at Lady-day and Michaelmas.

 

Mr. Matthew Brown, of St. Peter's, in Canterbury, in 1721, gave by his will 10s. per annum for ever, to the in brothers and sisters of this hospital.

 

In 1768, Thomas Hanson, esq. of Crosby-square, London, gave by will, the interest of 500l, for ever, to the in brothers and sisters of this hospital; which being now invested in the 3 per cents. reduced Bank Annuties, produces 17l. 1os. per annum.

 

Besides these, the hospital had many temporary benefactors, as well towards the repairs of it, as in money; among which were, the archbishops Juxon, Sheldon and Sancrost. The yearly tenths of this hospital amounting to 2l. 7s. 10d. are payable to the archbishop.

 

In 1691, the yearly revenues of this hospital amounted in the whole to 101l. 5s. 9d. besides which were the fines upon the renewals of the leafes, and alderman Sabine's gift of 13s 4d. a piece, by the year, which came not into the master's hands, but was paid by one of the aldermen of the city.

 

The present building is antient; it has a decent hall and chapel, where the schoolmaster, who has a good apartment in the house, and is called the reader, instructs twenty boys gratis, in reading, writing, and arithmetic. There are rooms also for five in brothers, and five in-sisters, but some of these rooms are subject to be flooded in a very wet season. (fn. 23) The master has a neat handsome house, sitauted in a court near the hospital, but on the western or opposite side of the river.

 

¶The antient common seal of this hospital having been for a long time missing, the late master, Dr. Backhouse, at his own expence, supplied the hospital with another in the year 1783.

 

www.british-history.ac.uk/survey-kent/vol12/pp115-135

Second weekend of the annual Heritage event. It seems wrong to call it a weekend as it now compromises two weekends and many meedweek events too.

 

And scanning the events, there were some in Canterbury, so we decide to head to the city for a wander: jools would go shopping while I would go and do some snapping.

 

Of course there is always shopping first. Off to Tesco to fill the car, then fill the fridge and larder. I am away for three days, nearly four, so not much needed on top of some ready meals for Jools. Still came to seventy quid, mind.

 

A tub of cheese footballs did fall into the trolley, which helped.

 

Back home for breakfast of fruit and more coffee, and then off to Canterbury, parking near St Augustine's Abbey, walking to the centre via a subway. We parted, Jools went to Body Shop and a couple of other shops, while I walked down High Street, past the Eastbridge Hospital, Westgate Tower, Canterbury West station to St Dunstan's.

 

I could say I walked straight there, but I had a quarter of an hour to play with, so when I walked past a pasty shop, I went in for a coffee, and although wasn't really hungry, I did have a pasty anyway.

 

Once fed and watered, I walk on, up the hill past the station, and on the left was the church, the door already open despite it being only five to nine.

 

I went in, and found I had the church to myself.

 

Last time I was here, the Roper Chapel was being renovated and so I couldn't get inside. Important as it is in the chapel that the head of Thomas Moor, beheaded on Tower Hill on orders of Henry VIII. The windows of the chapel have several representation of him and scenes from his life. I snap them all.

 

I go round with the wide angle lens, now the church is fully open again.

 

That done, I walk back down into the centre heading for Eastbridge Hospital.

 

I have been here before, a decade ago, when I went round with just my wide angle lens, and go a few poor shots. So, with it being open for the Heritage Event, it seemed a good idea to go.

 

The hospital is ancient, it goes without saying, and is still in use.

 

I have walked up and down High Street in Canterbury dozens of times, and never really thought about what lay behind buildings on the west side.

 

At Eastbridge the ancient hospital straddles the Stour, or one branch of it, on the other is the timber framed house, Weavers, with the ducking stool further downstream.

 

I re-visited the hospital, and on the way out was told I could visit the gardens and Greyfriars Chapel at the same time.

 

A shop, former pawnbrokers, is now a charity shop for the gardens, and through the shop there is an exit to a path beside the river.

 

This opens out into two acres of gardens, still used to feed the patients in the hospital, and the monks who still live and work here.

 

There used to be a large priory church here, and there are parts of ancient walls and ruins to be seen, as well as a bridge of the same age.

 

Over the river, a former lodging building from the 13th century, as been converted into a chapel, Greyfriars, with pillars supporting the building as the river passes through a tunnel under it.

 

It was rather like walking through a wardrobe into a magical place, with the Stour gently flowing through it, and a few other visitors making their was to the Chapel and surrounding gardens.

 

We sat for 45 minutes in the meadow waiting for a service to end, so I could get shots. So, we people watched and delighted in Migrant Hawkers flying by.

 

Franciscan Gardens, Canterbury, Kent The sounds of the city seemed a hundred miles away.

 

I got the shots once the group of ladies left, and once I had the three shots, we followed sign to the exit, leaving the garden through a plane gate beside the old post office.

 

Two hundred and sixty Now what?

 

Well, nothing. Really.

 

So, we walk back slowly to the car, pay for three hours parking and drive back out of the city, down the A2 to the coast and home.

 

Back in time to listen to the footy, have a brew and try to avoid eating as we were going out in the evening. As, on Monday, it will be 14 years since we married, and as I will be in another country Monday, we celebrated it two days early.

 

Or would do come six.

 

Norwich were going for seven wins in a row, but never really got going against WBA, and fell a goal behind early on. Better in the second half, and drew level thanks to a deflection, but no win. But also, no defeat either.

 

Franciscan Gardens, Canterbury, Kent I had a shower and put on some clean clothes and a splash of aftershave.

 

Ready.

 

I drive us to Jen's, picked her up, then drove slowly to Sandwich, then over the marshes through Preston to Stourmouth.

 

We were not the only customers; there was a wedding reception, and there were gentlement and boys in three piece suits, and ladies and girls in glamourous gowns and neck-breaking heels. Occasionally the bride would literally sweep through the bar, the train of her dress cleaning as it went. Not sure if what was the right colour.....

 

We had ordered when I booked the table, a huge pan of paella with chorizo, chicken, ham and shrimp. Jen and I shared a bottle of red, and we ate and watched the comings and goings as the wedding party got ever more rauocus.

 

We rounded off with a cheeseboard between the three of us, and that was it.

 

Jools drove us back to Jen's, dropping her off, then back home.

 

I had decided to open the bottle of port once home, and did. This has been on the shelf since my last trip to Denmark and I saw it at the airport duty free.

 

It was every bit of good that I hoped it would be.

 

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The Hospital of St Thomas the Martyr of Eastbridge was founded in the 12th century in Canterbury, England, to provide overnight accommodation for poor pilgrims to the shrine of St Thomas Becket. It is now one of the ten almshouses still providing accommodation for elderly citizens of Canterbury[1] and is a grade I listed building.

 

The hospital is situated on the King's-bridge, near the Westgate, in Canterbury. It was established sometime after the death of Thomas Becket (1170), possibly as early as 1176, when Canterbury Cathedral became a site of pilgrimage; the hospital provided accommodation for the pilgrims. The earliest name recorded as founder is that of Edward FitzOdbold c. 1190, with further endowments by Archbishop Hubert Walter about 1203.[1] For many years, no special statutes were enacted, nor were any rules laid down for the treatment of pilgrims.

 

The original building consists of an entrance hall, undercroft, refectory and chapel, all built in around 1190. Like the ancient Entrance Hall beneath it, the Pilgrims’ Chapel dates from the twelfth century, but assumed its present proportions in the fourteenth century. The roof of the Pilgrims’ Chapel is a fine example of its kind: the style of woodwork and joinery indicate that it was built around 1285. The Undercroft's original function was as a dormitory, and architecturally shows the period of time where the round-headed arch was giving way to the Gothic style of pointed arch.

 

The Refectory is a large open room originally used as a dining space. On the north wall is a painting of Our Lord in Glory between the symbols of the four Evangelists dating from the thirteenth century. This fresco was only uncovered when the chimney and fireplace installed around the time of the dissolution were removed in 1879, and it has been conserved since its revelation.

 

Approval for the funding of a Chantry Chapel was sanctioned by Archbishop Sudbury in 1375; the original document confirming this endowment is housed in the Canterbury Cathedral archives. (Chantries were abolished in 1547, and this fell into disrepair until it was reclaimed and restored for its original use in 1969.)

  

Hospital of St. Thomas, Canterbury, old engraving.

In the fourteenth century the hospital was reformed by Archbishop John de Stratford, during the reign of Edward III; he created ordinances, as well as a code of regulations to be acted on concerning pilgrims. He ruled that every pilgrim in health could rest in the hospital for one night at the cost of four pence, that weak and infirm applicants were to be preferred to those with better health, and that women "upwards of forty" should attend to the bedding and administer medicines to the sick. He also appointed a Master in priest's orders, under whose guidance a secular chaplain served. Further lands and revenues from parishes were given by Stratford and by Archbishop Simon Sudbury.[1]

 

This institution survived the Dissolution of the Monasteries and other religious houses during the reigns of Henry VIII and Edward VI, although the pilgrimage to St Thomas of Canterbury did not survive this period. In 1569 Archbishop Matthew Parker issued new ordinances governing the Hospital and its Master which specified the maintenance of twelve beds for the 'wayfaring poor' and established a school in the chapel for twenty boys. This arrangement was confirmed by Archbishop John Whitgift by Act of Parliament in 1584.[1]

 

The school survived until 1879. The chapel was then little used until its restoration by the Master in 1927. Further restoration work has taken place during the twentieth century. Much of this work was financed by sale of some of the hospital's lands at Blean at the foundation of the University of Kent in the 1960s.[1] A list of the Masters of the Eastbridge Hospital up to the end of the eighteenth century is given by Edward Hasted.

 

Between 2014–2019, extensive restoration took place to preserve those rooms situated directly over the River Stour. This work was supported by the Viridor Credits scheme, which funds community, heritage, and biodiversity projects. It was formally opened to the public by the Bishop of Dover on 23 March 2019, and named after Archbishop William Juxon, who was a generous benefactor during his tenure, and gave money for an earlier restoration of this part of Eastbridge.

 

Eastbridge is a functional almshouse to this day, providing accommodation in eight individual apartments in areas of the buildings inaccessible to the public. Eastbridge is administered by Trustees whose main aims are the maintenance of the ancient buildings, which are of national historic interest, and the welfare of the almshouse residents (Indwellers).

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eastbridge_Hospital_of_St_Thomas_th...

 

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THE HOSPITAL OF KING'S BRIDGE, ALIAS EASTBRIDGE

IS likewise situated in the same hundred, being exempt from the liberties of the city, and within the jurisdiction of the county of Kent at large. It takes its name from its situation close on the south side of King's bridge. This hospital was formerly called, by both the names of Eastbridge hospital and the hospital of St. Thomas the martyr of Eastbridge; which latter it had, from its being at first erected and endowed by the charity and piety of St. Thomas Becket, in king Henry II.'s reign. (fn. 1) For this we have the testimony of one of his successors, archbishop Stratford; who, upon his new ordination of the hospital, and in the charter of it, acknowledged archbishop Becket to be the first founder and endower of it; besides which, there is no other record extant, or to be found concerning the foundation of this hospital, or the intent why it was erected. (fn. 2) But to look back to the times intervening between these two founders, in which it is recorded, that archbishop Hubert, who sat in this see in king John's reign, was an especial benefactor to it, by the gift of several mills, tithes, and other premises, which were confirmed by the prior and convent of Christ church. In this archbishop's time there was another hospital, neighbouring to this of King's, alias Eastbridge, called Cokyn's hospital, built and en dowed by one William Cokyn, a citizen of Canterbury, whose name in his posterity long survived him, in this city. (fn. 3) This hospital was dedicated to St. Nicholas and the Virgin and martyr St. Catherine; and was situated in the parish of St. Peter, almost directly opposite to the late Black Friars-gate, having had a lane by it, once called Cokyn's lane, though long since shut up, and built upon. This hospital lastmentioned, was built on the scite of a house adjoining to the above William Cokyn's dwelling, or else was turned into one by him. Afterwards, by his charter, he united these two hospitals, and then by another charter, entitled them to all his lands, possessions and chattels, and made them his heirs. This union was confirmed by the bull of pope Innocent III. anno 1203, in which it is called the hospital of St. Thomas of Canterbury; and in Cokyn's grant of union, it is stiled the hospital of St. Nicholas, St. Catherine, and St. Thomas the Martyr of Eastbridge. (fn. 4) Eastbridge hospital becoming thus by union or consolidation possessed of and owners of Cokyn's hospital, it ceased soon afterwards, probably, to be used as one, and was hired or rented out, among the possessions of the hospital of Eastbridge; in which state it continues at this time. (fn. 5)

 

To return now again to the hospital of St. Thomas of Eastbridge, for which there being no statutes for the government of it, archbishop Stratford, anno 15 Edward III. drew up certain ordinances for that purpose, (fn. 6) the effect of which was, that the hospital being founded for the receiving, lodging and sustaining of poor pilgrims, was then, owing to the negligence of the masters, who had wasted the revenues of it, but meanly endowed, and that the buildings of it were in a ruinous condition: to remedy which, and to continue the charitable intent of it, he decreed, that the church of St. Nicholas, Harbledown, should be for ever appropriated to it; that for the government of this hospital, there should be a master in priest's orders, appointed by the archbishop and his successors, who should keep a proper secular chaplain, or vicar, under him, to be removed at the master's will and pleasure. That such poor pilgrims as happened to die within this hospital, should be buried in Christ church yard, in the place heretofore allotted to them there. That every pilgrim, in health, should have no more than one night's lodging and entertainment, at the expence of 4d. that there should be twelve beds in the hospital, and that some woman, upwards of forty years of age, should look after the beds and provide all necessaries for the pilgrims; that those who were not in health, should be preferred to such as were; that no lepers should be received into it; that if there was a smaller number of pilgrims reforting to the hospital, at any one time, a greater number should be received into it, in lieu of such deficiency, at other times, as far as the revenues of the hospital would allow of it; and further, he inhibited them from having any common seal in the hospital, with several other particular orders and injunction, as may be seen in the instrument more at large.

 

This hospital had several very liberal benefactors in early times. Among others, Hamo de Crevequer gave the church of Blean to it, which gift was afterwards confirmed by archbishop Stephen Langton, and was afterwards appropriated to it by archbishop Sudbury in 1375, Thomas, lord Roos, of Hamlake, in the 33d year of king Edward III. gave the manor of Blean to it, and the year afterwards Sir John Lee, as appears by the ledger of the hospital, gave to it a messuage, with 180 acres of land and divers rents of assize, in the same parish, for the increase of vorks of piety in it. (fn. 7)

 

In the year 1362, archbishop Islip founded a perpetual chantry in this hospital, and transferred to it, for the benefit of it, at the request of Bartholomew de Bourne, the chantry founded in the church of Livingsborne, alias Beaksborne, by his ancestor James de Bourne. (fn. 8)

 

By the instruments of the archbishops Islip and Sudbury, dated in the above year, it appears, by the former, that there was founded in this hospital, a perpetual chantry for divine services; the priest of which was to receive a yearly stipend of ten marcs, of the master of the hospital, out of the revenues of it; for which he was to celebrate divine service, and minister the sacraments and sacramentals in it, to such poor and infirm as should resort hither; and that the priest and his successors should possess the mansion, within the bounds of the hospital, between the infirmary and the great gate of it, and the chamber over it. After which king Edward III, having given a messuage, called the Chaunge, at the time almost wholly in ruins, to Thomas Newe de Wolton, then master of this hospital, and his successors, in aid of the maintenance of the priest who should celebrate in it for his health, for his soul afterwards, and that of John at Lee, who in part founded the chantry, &c. and the said messuage having been repaired and rebuilt by the executors, and at the cost, though charity, of his predecessor, the value of the rent amounted to seven marcs yearly, and would, as it was presumed, amount still higher in future; and it being difficult at that time to find a proper priest, who would undergo the duty and residence required in it, for the salary of ten marcs, the king's piety in augmenting the priest's stipend, was as yet frustrated—Archbishop Simon Sudbury, therefore, by his instrument dated in 1375, in which he recited the above ordination of his predecessor, ordained and decreed, in addition to that before-mentioned, and by the consent of the said Thomas, master of this hospital, and the executors of his predecessor, that the endowment of this chantry of ten marcs, should be augmented with five marcs and an half out of the seven marcs of rent of the messuage given by the king as aforesaid, with power of distress, &c. and whereas the presentation of the chantry of Bourne, united to this hospital, as in the ordination of the first chantry aforesaid made by his predecessor, more plainly appeared, belonged to Bartholomew de Bourne, his heirs, or assigns, before the union; he therefore decreed and ordained, that the presentation and collation to be made to the same, when vacant, should belong to him and his successors, and to the said Bartholomew de Bourne, his heirs, or assigns, alternately; the first turn to belong to the archbishop, because the assigns of Bartholomew de Bourne (fn. 9) had presented the then incumbent to it, &c. (fn. 10)

 

Though the revenues of this hospital lay chiesly in the parish of Blean, yet it was possessed of other rents, lands and tenements in Canterbury, Harbledown, and in Birchington. It was likewise possessed of lands in Herne, Reculver, Swaycliffe, Chistlet, and Bekesborne, belonging to the before-mentioned chantry, which at the suppression of it were seized on, as such.

 

By a bull of pope Honorius III. this hospital had the privilege of not paying tithes of their gardens. (fn. 11)

 

By the return made to the king's commissioners in king Henry VIII.'s reign, it appears, that there was here a neat handsome chapel, dedicated to the Virgin Mary, to which had belonged two bells, to ring to service, as was reported to them by the parson and churchwardens of All Saints; who said further, that this hospital was a parish church, in which there was ministred all sacraments and sacramentals, to the poor people resorting thither, and to the keeper of it, and his household, and all others remaining within the precinct of it, by the chantry priest; the matter of fact was, that this chapel was formerly served by the chantry priest of the chantry in it, mentioned before, to have been transferred to it, who had 10l. 6s. 8d. yearly stipend or wages, besides his mansion or dwelling, which was at the west end of the hospital, of all which it was deprived at the suppression of it by the statute of the 1st year of king Edward VI. (fn. 12) when a pension of six pounds per annum was granted to Nicholas Thompson, alias Campion, the incumbent of it, which was remaining anno 1553. (fn. 13)

 

The value of the revenues of the hospital itself, as returned anno 26 Henry VIII. according to both Dugdale and Speed, were 23l. 18s. 9⅓d. per annum, but this must have been the clear income, for according to Sancrost's manuscript valor, they amounted in the whole to 43l. 12s. 3d. (fn. 14)

 

The state of this hospital, as it stood in the time of cardinal Pole, at archdeacon Harpsfield's visitation in 1557, was, as appears by the entry in the book of it; that they were bound to receive way faring and hurt men, and to have eight beds for men, and four for women; to remain for a might, and more, if they were not able to depart; and the master of the hospital to be charged with their burial, and they had twenty lords of wood yearly allowed, and 26s. a year for drink, that there was 10l. land a year, with a mansion, which the priest always had for officiating in the chapel, taken away by the king, and that it was the head church to St. Cosmus and St. Damian Blean, but that they had no ornaments but organs. (fn. 15)

 

This hospital, though it outlasted the general suppression of most of the foundations of the like sort in the reigns of king Henry VIII. and king Edward VI. yet in the beginning of queen Elizabeth's reign, the lands and tenements belonging to it, as well as the hospital itself, then converted into tenements, were occu pied and possessed by private persons, until archbishop Parker, in the 10th year of that reign, recovered, by his prudent care, some of the lands and possessions, and restored the house again to pious and charitable uses. He framed new ordinances for the government of it, which he wisely contrived should be suitable to those times, as well as agreeable to the first foundation of the hospital, and the former statutes of archbishop Stratford, as far as might be; reserving nevertheless, a power to his successors, archbishops of Canterbury, to revise, alter, abolish and new make all, or any part of them; they are dated May 20, 1569. (fn. 16)

 

In them it appears, that in consequence of the ordinances of archbishop Stratford, the master of the hospital might take all the profits of it to his own use, bestowing only for the relief of wandering and wayfaring brethren, and poor, in bread and drink, after the rate of 4d. a day, and one night's lodging for twelve persons, if so many came there at one time, in the whole not above 6l. 2s. 6d. per annum, but the archbishop (Parker) by the authority in the above former ordinance concerning the disposition of the profits of this hospital, to him and his successors reserved, to alter and change the same, did by these ordinances in that behalf made, under his hand and seal, not only increase the above sum, to be from thenceforth bestowed on certain poor inhabiting within the county of the city of Canterbury, but also appointed other sums of money thereout, yearly to be paid towards the keeping of a freeschool, for a certain number of poor children of the county of the said city, to be taught to write and read freely within the hospital.

 

By the same ordinance, as well as by an indenture, between the master of this hospital and the master of Corpus Christi, or Benet college, in Cambridge, dated May 22, anno 11th Elizabeth, the archbishop founded out of the revenues of this hospital, two scholarships, each of the yearly value of 3l. 6s. 8d. that sum to be paid yearly from thence, by the master of the hospital to the master of the college; the two scholars to be chosen, named, examined and approved by the master of this hospital and the dean of Canterbury, if any such there should be; if not, then by the master only, and to be taken from the free-school in Canterbury, being such of the scholars there as were born within Kent, and being sent to Cambridge, should be called Canterbury scholars; who, after their admittance and receipt there, should remain and continue in that college, according to the orders and statutes of it, and should have of the provision of it, convenient chambers, commons, reading and other necessaries, as other scholars in it, according to common custom, for the term of two hundred years next, from the date of the indenture, with other rules and regulations in it relating to them. (fn. 17)

 

Not long after this, queen Elizabeth issued a commission of charitable uses, to enquire into the state and condition of this hospital, which was done, and a return thereof made accordingly; and again, soon after the death of archbishop Parker, there was a second commission, directed to Sir James Hales and others, who certisied, that the hospital house stood ruinated, and neither master nor brethren were resident, or dwelling of long time. The house was let out into tenements for yearly rent. The beds that were wont to lodge and harbour poor people resorting thither, were gone and sold, contrary to the old order and foundation of the same; and that the hospital was relinquished and concealed from the queen, &c. Upon which, she granted it, with all its revenues, by letters patent, dated July 20, in her 18th year, to John Farnham, one of her gentlemen pensioners, to hold in see farm for ever. —He soon afterwards conveyed his interest in it for 550l. and the release beside of a debt owing by him, to Geo. Hayes. After this, archbishop Whitgift recovered this hospital, with the revenues of it, from Hayes, and then settled it upon a new foundation, so firm and sure, that it has continued to the present time, and remains a perpetual monument of the archbishop's piety and prudence, who may be justly reputed the sounder and restorer of it; (fn. 18) and he framed new ordinances and statutes, for the better government of it, by which the hospital is now ruled. In these it is, among other things, ordered and decreed, that the archbishop should collate the master, who should be in holy orders, and should be instituted and inducted according to the usual form and custom, who should have the lodging known by the name of the master's lodging, in the hospital; and a yearly stipend of 61. 13s. 4d. and twenty loads of wood from the lands belonging to it, to be delivered cost free. That the master should appoint a school-master, who by himself or deputy, should freely instruct twenty poor children of this city, above the age of seven years, to write, read and cast accompts, and to have books, paper, &c. provided for them, out of the prosits of the hospital, and not to remain in the school above three years. The school-master to have a lodging in the hospital, and a stipend of four pounds, and for his further relief, if the master approved of it, to be receiver of the rents, &c. of the hospital; for which he should receive 26s. 8d. and two loads of wood yearly, to be delivered cost free, and one summer livery cloth. That out of the prosits of the hospital, there should be paid for ever, to the two scholars to be taken out of the common school at Canterbury, commonly called the mynte, by the master of the hospital, with the consent of the archbishop, and placed in Benet college, 3l. 6s. 8d. each, according to the former ordinances made of it. That whereas by former ordinances, the master of the hospital was only tied to pay in time of peace, unto the poor passengers, or to such other poor people as the master should think good, thirty pence a week; and in time of war that payment ceasing, to provide twelve beds for the lodging of poor soldiers, passing through this city, within the hospital, for the space of one night only, which is now grown wholly out of use, especially since the loss of Calais; therefore, for the better relief of the poor inhabiting within this city and the suburbs of it, it was ordered, that the former last recited orders should cease, and instead of them, there should be five inbrothers, and five in-sisters, to be permanent and have their habitation in the hospital; and after the space of twenty years next ensuing, there should be five other out-brothers, and five others called out-sisters; each of the said in-brothers and in-sisters to have a several dwelling and lodging within the hospital, and 26s. 8d. by the year, and one load of wood to be delivered cost free, between Midsummer and Michaelmas; and each of the out brothers and out-sisters to have 26s. 8d. by the year only; that the mayor of this city should from time to time, nominate to the master of the hospital for every of the brothers and sisters rooms, when they should be void and unfurnished, two poor persons, men or women, as the places should require, being lame, impotent, blind, or aged, above fifty years of age, who should have inhabited within the city, of suburbs, seven years before; of which two, the master should chuse and admit one; and in default of the mayor's nomi nating for the space of three months, the master to make choice, and admit any, qualisied as above-mentioned. That in the room of every out-brother and sister, the mayor should nominate such persons as above specisied, whereof one at least should be such as had dwelt in the city or suburbs, by the space of three whole years at least, to the end that such as dwelt there, and not within the county of the city, should receive the whole benefit of these ordinances. That the master, out of the profits of the hospital, should repair and sustain it, and every part within the precincts of it, and also sufficiently sustain and maintain the bridge, called the king's bridge, alias Eastbridge, within the city of Canterbury; (fn. 19) and pay to the queen, her heirs and successors, 7l. 10s. yearly, due to her for the pension of a chantry, sometime within the hospital, and all other dues and payments going out of it. That the master should not let for years or lives, the lands or tenements, nor make any woodsales of the wood, without the express consent, in writing, of the archbishop, and should yearly make an accompt to him, if demanded, so that of the surplusage all charges deducted, the portions of the brethren and sisters might be increased at the will of the archbishop, as theretofore had been used. That the in-brethren or sisters, master or schoolmaster, who should die within the precincts of the hospital, might be buried within the church-yard of the cathedral, according to a former agreement made between the archbishop, his predecessor and the then prior and convent of Christ church, with many other orders and re gulations mentioned in them, (fn. 20) all which were confirmed and ordered to be inrolled in chancery, by an act passed in the 27th year of that reign, (fn. 21) by the means of which, the rights of this hospital have been preserved to this time.

 

There have been some few modern benefactors to this hospital.

 

Mr. Avery Sabin, sometime an alderman of this city, by his will in 1648, gave a rent charge out of his estate at Monkton, in Thanet, of 20l. per annum, for charitable uses to the poor of this city, of which, ten marcs were assigned yearly to be paid to the five in-brothers and five in-sisters of this hospital. (fn. 22)

 

Mrs. Elizabeth Lovejoy, widow, by her will in 1694, gave, out of her personal estate, the sum of five pounds yearly to this hospital, to be shared and divided among the poor of it, in like manner as her gift to Cogan's hospital, above-mentioned. Besides which, this hospital receives yearly the sixth part of the interest, due from 1631. 16s. 3d. being the sum due from Mrs. Masters's legacy, who died in 1716, which is vested in the mayor and commonalty, in trust, for the several hospitals in Canterbury, of which a full account may be seen among the charitable benefactions to this city.

 

In 1708 John Battely, D. D. archdeacon of Canterbury, and master of this hospital, new built three of the sisters lodgings, and did several other great repairs, and at his death left by his will, to the in-brothers and sisters, one hundred pounds, the interest of which he ordered should be proportioned by Mr. John Bradock, of St. Stephen's, and Mr. Somerscales, vicar of Doddington.

 

Mr. John Bradock, master of this hospital, in 1719 gave by his will, 25l. 13s. 4d. for the better payment of the poor people, at Lady-day and Michaelmas.

 

Mr. Matthew Brown, of St. Peter's, in Canterbury, in 1721, gave by his will 10s. per annum for ever, to the in brothers and sisters of this hospital.

 

In 1768, Thomas Hanson, esq. of Crosby-square, London, gave by will, the interest of 500l, for ever, to the in brothers and sisters of this hospital; which being now invested in the 3 per cents. reduced Bank Annuties, produces 17l. 1os. per annum.

 

Besides these, the hospital had many temporary benefactors, as well towards the repairs of it, as in money; among which were, the archbishops Juxon, Sheldon and Sancrost. The yearly tenths of this hospital amounting to 2l. 7s. 10d. are payable to the archbishop.

 

In 1691, the yearly revenues of this hospital amounted in the whole to 101l. 5s. 9d. besides which were the fines upon the renewals of the leafes, and alderman Sabine's gift of 13s 4d. a piece, by the year, which came not into the master's hands, but was paid by one of the aldermen of the city.

 

The present building is antient; it has a decent hall and chapel, where the schoolmaster, who has a good apartment in the house, and is called the reader, instructs twenty boys gratis, in reading, writing, and arithmetic. There are rooms also for five in brothers, and five in-sisters, but some of these rooms are subject to be flooded in a very wet season. (fn. 23) The master has a neat handsome house, sitauted in a court near the hospital, but on the western or opposite side of the river.

 

¶The antient common seal of this hospital having been for a long time missing, the late master, Dr. Backhouse, at his own expence, supplied the hospital with another in the year 1783.

 

www.british-history.ac.uk/survey-kent/vol12/pp115-135

Second weekend of the annual Heritage event. It seems wrong to call it a weekend as it now compromises two weekends and many meedweek events too.

 

And scanning the events, there were some in Canterbury, so we decide to head to the city for a wander: jools would go shopping while I would go and do some snapping.

 

Of course there is always shopping first. Off to Tesco to fill the car, then fill the fridge and larder. I am away for three days, nearly four, so not much needed on top of some ready meals for Jools. Still came to seventy quid, mind.

 

A tub of cheese footballs did fall into the trolley, which helped.

 

Back home for breakfast of fruit and more coffee, and then off to Canterbury, parking near St Augustine's Abbey, walking to the centre via a subway. We parted, Jools went to Body Shop and a couple of other shops, while I walked down High Street, past the Eastbridge Hospital, Westgate Tower, Canterbury West station to St Dunstan's.

 

I could say I walked straight there, but I had a quarter of an hour to play with, so when I walked past a pasty shop, I went in for a coffee, and although wasn't really hungry, I did have a pasty anyway.

 

Once fed and watered, I walk on, up the hill past the station, and on the left was the church, the door already open despite it being only five to nine.

 

I went in, and found I had the church to myself.

 

Last time I was here, the Roper Chapel was being renovated and so I couldn't get inside. Important as it is in the chapel that the head of Thomas Moor, beheaded on Tower Hill on orders of Henry VIII. The windows of the chapel have several representation of him and scenes from his life. I snap them all.

 

I go round with the wide angle lens, now the church is fully open again.

 

That done, I walk back down into the centre heading for Eastbridge Hospital.

 

I have been here before, a decade ago, when I went round with just my wide angle lens, and go a few poor shots. So, with it being open for the Heritage Event, it seemed a good idea to go.

 

The hospital is ancient, it goes without saying, and is still in use.

 

I have walked up and down High Street in Canterbury dozens of times, and never really thought about what lay behind buildings on the west side.

 

At Eastbridge the ancient hospital straddles the Stour, or one branch of it, on the other is the timber framed house, Weavers, with the ducking stool further downstream.

 

I re-visited the hospital, and on the way out was told I could visit the gardens and Greyfriars Chapel at the same time.

 

A shop, former pawnbrokers, is now a charity shop for the gardens, and through the shop there is an exit to a path beside the river.

 

This opens out into two acres of gardens, still used to feed the patients in the hospital, and the monks who still live and work here.

 

There used to be a large priory church here, and there are parts of ancient walls and ruins to be seen, as well as a bridge of the same age.

 

Over the river, a former lodging building from the 13th century, as been converted into a chapel, Greyfriars, with pillars supporting the building as the river passes through a tunnel under it.

 

It was rather like walking through a wardrobe into a magical place, with the Stour gently flowing through it, and a few other visitors making their was to the Chapel and surrounding gardens.

 

We sat for 45 minutes in the meadow waiting for a service to end, so I could get shots. So, we people watched and delighted in Migrant Hawkers flying by.

 

Franciscan Gardens, Canterbury, Kent The sounds of the city seemed a hundred miles away.

 

I got the shots once the group of ladies left, and once I had the three shots, we followed sign to the exit, leaving the garden through a plane gate beside the old post office.

 

Two hundred and sixty Now what?

 

Well, nothing. Really.

 

So, we walk back slowly to the car, pay for three hours parking and drive back out of the city, down the A2 to the coast and home.

 

Back in time to listen to the footy, have a brew and try to avoid eating as we were going out in the evening. As, on Monday, it will be 14 years since we married, and as I will be in another country Monday, we celebrated it two days early.

 

Or would do come six.

 

Norwich were going for seven wins in a row, but never really got going against WBA, and fell a goal behind early on. Better in the second half, and drew level thanks to a deflection, but no win. But also, no defeat either.

 

Franciscan Gardens, Canterbury, Kent I had a shower and put on some clean clothes and a splash of aftershave.

 

Ready.

 

I drive us to Jen's, picked her up, then drove slowly to Sandwich, then over the marshes through Preston to Stourmouth.

 

We were not the only customers; there was a wedding reception, and there were gentlement and boys in three piece suits, and ladies and girls in glamourous gowns and neck-breaking heels. Occasionally the bride would literally sweep through the bar, the train of her dress cleaning as it went. Not sure if what was the right colour.....

 

We had ordered when I booked the table, a huge pan of paella with chorizo, chicken, ham and shrimp. Jen and I shared a bottle of red, and we ate and watched the comings and goings as the wedding party got ever more rauocus.

 

We rounded off with a cheeseboard between the three of us, and that was it.

 

Jools drove us back to Jen's, dropping her off, then back home.

 

I had decided to open the bottle of port once home, and did. This has been on the shelf since my last trip to Denmark and I saw it at the airport duty free.

 

It was every bit of good that I hoped it would be.

 

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The Hospital of St Thomas the Martyr of Eastbridge was founded in the 12th century in Canterbury, England, to provide overnight accommodation for poor pilgrims to the shrine of St Thomas Becket. It is now one of the ten almshouses still providing accommodation for elderly citizens of Canterbury[1] and is a grade I listed building.

 

The hospital is situated on the King's-bridge, near the Westgate, in Canterbury. It was established sometime after the death of Thomas Becket (1170), possibly as early as 1176, when Canterbury Cathedral became a site of pilgrimage; the hospital provided accommodation for the pilgrims. The earliest name recorded as founder is that of Edward FitzOdbold c. 1190, with further endowments by Archbishop Hubert Walter about 1203.[1] For many years, no special statutes were enacted, nor were any rules laid down for the treatment of pilgrims.

 

The original building consists of an entrance hall, undercroft, refectory and chapel, all built in around 1190. Like the ancient Entrance Hall beneath it, the Pilgrims’ Chapel dates from the twelfth century, but assumed its present proportions in the fourteenth century. The roof of the Pilgrims’ Chapel is a fine example of its kind: the style of woodwork and joinery indicate that it was built around 1285. The Undercroft's original function was as a dormitory, and architecturally shows the period of time where the round-headed arch was giving way to the Gothic style of pointed arch.

 

The Refectory is a large open room originally used as a dining space. On the north wall is a painting of Our Lord in Glory between the symbols of the four Evangelists dating from the thirteenth century. This fresco was only uncovered when the chimney and fireplace installed around the time of the dissolution were removed in 1879, and it has been conserved since its revelation.

 

Approval for the funding of a Chantry Chapel was sanctioned by Archbishop Sudbury in 1375; the original document confirming this endowment is housed in the Canterbury Cathedral archives. (Chantries were abolished in 1547, and this fell into disrepair until it was reclaimed and restored for its original use in 1969.)

  

Hospital of St. Thomas, Canterbury, old engraving.

In the fourteenth century the hospital was reformed by Archbishop John de Stratford, during the reign of Edward III; he created ordinances, as well as a code of regulations to be acted on concerning pilgrims. He ruled that every pilgrim in health could rest in the hospital for one night at the cost of four pence, that weak and infirm applicants were to be preferred to those with better health, and that women "upwards of forty" should attend to the bedding and administer medicines to the sick. He also appointed a Master in priest's orders, under whose guidance a secular chaplain served. Further lands and revenues from parishes were given by Stratford and by Archbishop Simon Sudbury.[1]

 

This institution survived the Dissolution of the Monasteries and other religious houses during the reigns of Henry VIII and Edward VI, although the pilgrimage to St Thomas of Canterbury did not survive this period. In 1569 Archbishop Matthew Parker issued new ordinances governing the Hospital and its Master which specified the maintenance of twelve beds for the 'wayfaring poor' and established a school in the chapel for twenty boys. This arrangement was confirmed by Archbishop John Whitgift by Act of Parliament in 1584.[1]

 

The school survived until 1879. The chapel was then little used until its restoration by the Master in 1927. Further restoration work has taken place during the twentieth century. Much of this work was financed by sale of some of the hospital's lands at Blean at the foundation of the University of Kent in the 1960s.[1] A list of the Masters of the Eastbridge Hospital up to the end of the eighteenth century is given by Edward Hasted.

 

Between 2014–2019, extensive restoration took place to preserve those rooms situated directly over the River Stour. This work was supported by the Viridor Credits scheme, which funds community, heritage, and biodiversity projects. It was formally opened to the public by the Bishop of Dover on 23 March 2019, and named after Archbishop William Juxon, who was a generous benefactor during his tenure, and gave money for an earlier restoration of this part of Eastbridge.

 

Eastbridge is a functional almshouse to this day, providing accommodation in eight individual apartments in areas of the buildings inaccessible to the public. Eastbridge is administered by Trustees whose main aims are the maintenance of the ancient buildings, which are of national historic interest, and the welfare of the almshouse residents (Indwellers).

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eastbridge_Hospital_of_St_Thomas_th...

 

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THE HOSPITAL OF KING'S BRIDGE, ALIAS EASTBRIDGE

IS likewise situated in the same hundred, being exempt from the liberties of the city, and within the jurisdiction of the county of Kent at large. It takes its name from its situation close on the south side of King's bridge. This hospital was formerly called, by both the names of Eastbridge hospital and the hospital of St. Thomas the martyr of Eastbridge; which latter it had, from its being at first erected and endowed by the charity and piety of St. Thomas Becket, in king Henry II.'s reign. (fn. 1) For this we have the testimony of one of his successors, archbishop Stratford; who, upon his new ordination of the hospital, and in the charter of it, acknowledged archbishop Becket to be the first founder and endower of it; besides which, there is no other record extant, or to be found concerning the foundation of this hospital, or the intent why it was erected. (fn. 2) But to look back to the times intervening between these two founders, in which it is recorded, that archbishop Hubert, who sat in this see in king John's reign, was an especial benefactor to it, by the gift of several mills, tithes, and other premises, which were confirmed by the prior and convent of Christ church. In this archbishop's time there was another hospital, neighbouring to this of King's, alias Eastbridge, called Cokyn's hospital, built and en dowed by one William Cokyn, a citizen of Canterbury, whose name in his posterity long survived him, in this city. (fn. 3) This hospital was dedicated to St. Nicholas and the Virgin and martyr St. Catherine; and was situated in the parish of St. Peter, almost directly opposite to the late Black Friars-gate, having had a lane by it, once called Cokyn's lane, though long since shut up, and built upon. This hospital lastmentioned, was built on the scite of a house adjoining to the above William Cokyn's dwelling, or else was turned into one by him. Afterwards, by his charter, he united these two hospitals, and then by another charter, entitled them to all his lands, possessions and chattels, and made them his heirs. This union was confirmed by the bull of pope Innocent III. anno 1203, in which it is called the hospital of St. Thomas of Canterbury; and in Cokyn's grant of union, it is stiled the hospital of St. Nicholas, St. Catherine, and St. Thomas the Martyr of Eastbridge. (fn. 4) Eastbridge hospital becoming thus by union or consolidation possessed of and owners of Cokyn's hospital, it ceased soon afterwards, probably, to be used as one, and was hired or rented out, among the possessions of the hospital of Eastbridge; in which state it continues at this time. (fn. 5)

 

To return now again to the hospital of St. Thomas of Eastbridge, for which there being no statutes for the government of it, archbishop Stratford, anno 15 Edward III. drew up certain ordinances for that purpose, (fn. 6) the effect of which was, that the hospital being founded for the receiving, lodging and sustaining of poor pilgrims, was then, owing to the negligence of the masters, who had wasted the revenues of it, but meanly endowed, and that the buildings of it were in a ruinous condition: to remedy which, and to continue the charitable intent of it, he decreed, that the church of St. Nicholas, Harbledown, should be for ever appropriated to it; that for the government of this hospital, there should be a master in priest's orders, appointed by the archbishop and his successors, who should keep a proper secular chaplain, or vicar, under him, to be removed at the master's will and pleasure. That such poor pilgrims as happened to die within this hospital, should be buried in Christ church yard, in the place heretofore allotted to them there. That every pilgrim, in health, should have no more than one night's lodging and entertainment, at the expence of 4d. that there should be twelve beds in the hospital, and that some woman, upwards of forty years of age, should look after the beds and provide all necessaries for the pilgrims; that those who were not in health, should be preferred to such as were; that no lepers should be received into it; that if there was a smaller number of pilgrims reforting to the hospital, at any one time, a greater number should be received into it, in lieu of such deficiency, at other times, as far as the revenues of the hospital would allow of it; and further, he inhibited them from having any common seal in the hospital, with several other particular orders and injunction, as may be seen in the instrument more at large.

 

This hospital had several very liberal benefactors in early times. Among others, Hamo de Crevequer gave the church of Blean to it, which gift was afterwards confirmed by archbishop Stephen Langton, and was afterwards appropriated to it by archbishop Sudbury in 1375, Thomas, lord Roos, of Hamlake, in the 33d year of king Edward III. gave the manor of Blean to it, and the year afterwards Sir John Lee, as appears by the ledger of the hospital, gave to it a messuage, with 180 acres of land and divers rents of assize, in the same parish, for the increase of vorks of piety in it. (fn. 7)

 

In the year 1362, archbishop Islip founded a perpetual chantry in this hospital, and transferred to it, for the benefit of it, at the request of Bartholomew de Bourne, the chantry founded in the church of Livingsborne, alias Beaksborne, by his ancestor James de Bourne. (fn. 8)

 

By the instruments of the archbishops Islip and Sudbury, dated in the above year, it appears, by the former, that there was founded in this hospital, a perpetual chantry for divine services; the priest of which was to receive a yearly stipend of ten marcs, of the master of the hospital, out of the revenues of it; for which he was to celebrate divine service, and minister the sacraments and sacramentals in it, to such poor and infirm as should resort hither; and that the priest and his successors should possess the mansion, within the bounds of the hospital, between the infirmary and the great gate of it, and the chamber over it. After which king Edward III, having given a messuage, called the Chaunge, at the time almost wholly in ruins, to Thomas Newe de Wolton, then master of this hospital, and his successors, in aid of the maintenance of the priest who should celebrate in it for his health, for his soul afterwards, and that of John at Lee, who in part founded the chantry, &c. and the said messuage having been repaired and rebuilt by the executors, and at the cost, though charity, of his predecessor, the value of the rent amounted to seven marcs yearly, and would, as it was presumed, amount still higher in future; and it being difficult at that time to find a proper priest, who would undergo the duty and residence required in it, for the salary of ten marcs, the king's piety in augmenting the priest's stipend, was as yet frustrated—Archbishop Simon Sudbury, therefore, by his instrument dated in 1375, in which he recited the above ordination of his predecessor, ordained and decreed, in addition to that before-mentioned, and by the consent of the said Thomas, master of this hospital, and the executors of his predecessor, that the endowment of this chantry of ten marcs, should be augmented with five marcs and an half out of the seven marcs of rent of the messuage given by the king as aforesaid, with power of distress, &c. and whereas the presentation of the chantry of Bourne, united to this hospital, as in the ordination of the first chantry aforesaid made by his predecessor, more plainly appeared, belonged to Bartholomew de Bourne, his heirs, or assigns, before the union; he therefore decreed and ordained, that the presentation and collation to be made to the same, when vacant, should belong to him and his successors, and to the said Bartholomew de Bourne, his heirs, or assigns, alternately; the first turn to belong to the archbishop, because the assigns of Bartholomew de Bourne (fn. 9) had presented the then incumbent to it, &c. (fn. 10)

 

Though the revenues of this hospital lay chiesly in the parish of Blean, yet it was possessed of other rents, lands and tenements in Canterbury, Harbledown, and in Birchington. It was likewise possessed of lands in Herne, Reculver, Swaycliffe, Chistlet, and Bekesborne, belonging to the before-mentioned chantry, which at the suppression of it were seized on, as such.

 

By a bull of pope Honorius III. this hospital had the privilege of not paying tithes of their gardens. (fn. 11)

 

By the return made to the king's commissioners in king Henry VIII.'s reign, it appears, that there was here a neat handsome chapel, dedicated to the Virgin Mary, to which had belonged two bells, to ring to service, as was reported to them by the parson and churchwardens of All Saints; who said further, that this hospital was a parish church, in which there was ministred all sacraments and sacramentals, to the poor people resorting thither, and to the keeper of it, and his household, and all others remaining within the precinct of it, by the chantry priest; the matter of fact was, that this chapel was formerly served by the chantry priest of the chantry in it, mentioned before, to have been transferred to it, who had 10l. 6s. 8d. yearly stipend or wages, besides his mansion or dwelling, which was at the west end of the hospital, of all which it was deprived at the suppression of it by the statute of the 1st year of king Edward VI. (fn. 12) when a pension of six pounds per annum was granted to Nicholas Thompson, alias Campion, the incumbent of it, which was remaining anno 1553. (fn. 13)

 

The value of the revenues of the hospital itself, as returned anno 26 Henry VIII. according to both Dugdale and Speed, were 23l. 18s. 9⅓d. per annum, but this must have been the clear income, for according to Sancrost's manuscript valor, they amounted in the whole to 43l. 12s. 3d. (fn. 14)

 

The state of this hospital, as it stood in the time of cardinal Pole, at archdeacon Harpsfield's visitation in 1557, was, as appears by the entry in the book of it; that they were bound to receive way faring and hurt men, and to have eight beds for men, and four for women; to remain for a might, and more, if they were not able to depart; and the master of the hospital to be charged with their burial, and they had twenty lords of wood yearly allowed, and 26s. a year for drink, that there was 10l. land a year, with a mansion, which the priest always had for officiating in the chapel, taken away by the king, and that it was the head church to St. Cosmus and St. Damian Blean, but that they had no ornaments but organs. (fn. 15)

 

This hospital, though it outlasted the general suppression of most of the foundations of the like sort in the reigns of king Henry VIII. and king Edward VI. yet in the beginning of queen Elizabeth's reign, the lands and tenements belonging to it, as well as the hospital itself, then converted into tenements, were occu pied and possessed by private persons, until archbishop Parker, in the 10th year of that reign, recovered, by his prudent care, some of the lands and possessions, and restored the house again to pious and charitable uses. He framed new ordinances for the government of it, which he wisely contrived should be suitable to those times, as well as agreeable to the first foundation of the hospital, and the former statutes of archbishop Stratford, as far as might be; reserving nevertheless, a power to his successors, archbishops of Canterbury, to revise, alter, abolish and new make all, or any part of them; they are dated May 20, 1569. (fn. 16)

 

In them it appears, that in consequence of the ordinances of archbishop Stratford, the master of the hospital might take all the profits of it to his own use, bestowing only for the relief of wandering and wayfaring brethren, and poor, in bread and drink, after the rate of 4d. a day, and one night's lodging for twelve persons, if so many came there at one time, in the whole not above 6l. 2s. 6d. per annum, but the archbishop (Parker) by the authority in the above former ordinance concerning the disposition of the profits of this hospital, to him and his successors reserved, to alter and change the same, did by these ordinances in that behalf made, under his hand and seal, not only increase the above sum, to be from thenceforth bestowed on certain poor inhabiting within the county of the city of Canterbury, but also appointed other sums of money thereout, yearly to be paid towards the keeping of a freeschool, for a certain number of poor children of the county of the said city, to be taught to write and read freely within the hospital.

 

By the same ordinance, as well as by an indenture, between the master of this hospital and the master of Corpus Christi, or Benet college, in Cambridge, dated May 22, anno 11th Elizabeth, the archbishop founded out of the revenues of this hospital, two scholarships, each of the yearly value of 3l. 6s. 8d. that sum to be paid yearly from thence, by the master of the hospital to the master of the college; the two scholars to be chosen, named, examined and approved by the master of this hospital and the dean of Canterbury, if any such there should be; if not, then by the master only, and to be taken from the free-school in Canterbury, being such of the scholars there as were born within Kent, and being sent to Cambridge, should be called Canterbury scholars; who, after their admittance and receipt there, should remain and continue in that college, according to the orders and statutes of it, and should have of the provision of it, convenient chambers, commons, reading and other necessaries, as other scholars in it, according to common custom, for the term of two hundred years next, from the date of the indenture, with other rules and regulations in it relating to them. (fn. 17)

 

Not long after this, queen Elizabeth issued a commission of charitable uses, to enquire into the state and condition of this hospital, which was done, and a return thereof made accordingly; and again, soon after the death of archbishop Parker, there was a second commission, directed to Sir James Hales and others, who certisied, that the hospital house stood ruinated, and neither master nor brethren were resident, or dwelling of long time. The house was let out into tenements for yearly rent. The beds that were wont to lodge and harbour poor people resorting thither, were gone and sold, contrary to the old order and foundation of the same; and that the hospital was relinquished and concealed from the queen, &c. Upon which, she granted it, with all its revenues, by letters patent, dated July 20, in her 18th year, to John Farnham, one of her gentlemen pensioners, to hold in see farm for ever. —He soon afterwards conveyed his interest in it for 550l. and the release beside of a debt owing by him, to Geo. Hayes. After this, archbishop Whitgift recovered this hospital, with the revenues of it, from Hayes, and then settled it upon a new foundation, so firm and sure, that it has continued to the present time, and remains a perpetual monument of the archbishop's piety and prudence, who may be justly reputed the sounder and restorer of it; (fn. 18) and he framed new ordinances and statutes, for the better government of it, by which the hospital is now ruled. In these it is, among other things, ordered and decreed, that the archbishop should collate the master, who should be in holy orders, and should be instituted and inducted according to the usual form and custom, who should have the lodging known by the name of the master's lodging, in the hospital; and a yearly stipend of 61. 13s. 4d. and twenty loads of wood from the lands belonging to it, to be delivered cost free. That the master should appoint a school-master, who by himself or deputy, should freely instruct twenty poor children of this city, above the age of seven years, to write, read and cast accompts, and to have books, paper, &c. provided for them, out of the prosits of the hospital, and not to remain in the school above three years. The school-master to have a lodging in the hospital, and a stipend of four pounds, and for his further relief, if the master approved of it, to be receiver of the rents, &c. of the hospital; for which he should receive 26s. 8d. and two loads of wood yearly, to be delivered cost free, and one summer livery cloth. That out of the prosits of the hospital, there should be paid for ever, to the two scholars to be taken out of the common school at Canterbury, commonly called the mynte, by the master of the hospital, with the consent of the archbishop, and placed in Benet college, 3l. 6s. 8d. each, according to the former ordinances made of it. That whereas by former ordinances, the master of the hospital was only tied to pay in time of peace, unto the poor passengers, or to such other poor people as the master should think good, thirty pence a week; and in time of war that payment ceasing, to provide twelve beds for the lodging of poor soldiers, passing through this city, within the hospital, for the space of one night only, which is now grown wholly out of use, especially since the loss of Calais; therefore, for the better relief of the poor inhabiting within this city and the suburbs of it, it was ordered, that the former last recited orders should cease, and instead of them, there should be five inbrothers, and five in-sisters, to be permanent and have their habitation in the hospital; and after the space of twenty years next ensuing, there should be five other out-brothers, and five others called out-sisters; each of the said in-brothers and in-sisters to have a several dwelling and lodging within the hospital, and 26s. 8d. by the year, and one load of wood to be delivered cost free, between Midsummer and Michaelmas; and each of the out brothers and out-sisters to have 26s. 8d. by the year only; that the mayor of this city should from time to time, nominate to the master of the hospital for every of the brothers and sisters rooms, when they should be void and unfurnished, two poor persons, men or women, as the places should require, being lame, impotent, blind, or aged, above fifty years of age, who should have inhabited within the city, of suburbs, seven years before; of which two, the master should chuse and admit one; and in default of the mayor's nomi nating for the space of three months, the master to make choice, and admit any, qualisied as above-mentioned. That in the room of every out-brother and sister, the mayor should nominate such persons as above specisied, whereof one at least should be such as had dwelt in the city or suburbs, by the space of three whole years at least, to the end that such as dwelt there, and not within the county of the city, should receive the whole benefit of these ordinances. That the master, out of the profits of the hospital, should repair and sustain it, and every part within the precincts of it, and also sufficiently sustain and maintain the bridge, called the king's bridge, alias Eastbridge, within the city of Canterbury; (fn. 19) and pay to the queen, her heirs and successors, 7l. 10s. yearly, due to her for the pension of a chantry, sometime within the hospital, and all other dues and payments going out of it. That the master should not let for years or lives, the lands or tenements, nor make any woodsales of the wood, without the express consent, in writing, of the archbishop, and should yearly make an accompt to him, if demanded, so that of the surplusage all charges deducted, the portions of the brethren and sisters might be increased at the will of the archbishop, as theretofore had been used. That the in-brethren or sisters, master or schoolmaster, who should die within the precincts of the hospital, might be buried within the church-yard of the cathedral, according to a former agreement made between the archbishop, his predecessor and the then prior and convent of Christ church, with many other orders and re gulations mentioned in them, (fn. 20) all which were confirmed and ordered to be inrolled in chancery, by an act passed in the 27th year of that reign, (fn. 21) by the means of which, the rights of this hospital have been preserved to this time.

 

There have been some few modern benefactors to this hospital.

 

Mr. Avery Sabin, sometime an alderman of this city, by his will in 1648, gave a rent charge out of his estate at Monkton, in Thanet, of 20l. per annum, for charitable uses to the poor of this city, of which, ten marcs were assigned yearly to be paid to the five in-brothers and five in-sisters of this hospital. (fn. 22)

 

Mrs. Elizabeth Lovejoy, widow, by her will in 1694, gave, out of her personal estate, the sum of five pounds yearly to this hospital, to be shared and divided among the poor of it, in like manner as her gift to Cogan's hospital, above-mentioned. Besides which, this hospital receives yearly the sixth part of the interest, due from 1631. 16s. 3d. being the sum due from Mrs. Masters's legacy, who died in 1716, which is vested in the mayor and commonalty, in trust, for the several hospitals in Canterbury, of which a full account may be seen among the charitable benefactions to this city.

 

In 1708 John Battely, D. D. archdeacon of Canterbury, and master of this hospital, new built three of the sisters lodgings, and did several other great repairs, and at his death left by his will, to the in-brothers and sisters, one hundred pounds, the interest of which he ordered should be proportioned by Mr. John Bradock, of St. Stephen's, and Mr. Somerscales, vicar of Doddington.

 

Mr. John Bradock, master of this hospital, in 1719 gave by his will, 25l. 13s. 4d. for the better payment of the poor people, at Lady-day and Michaelmas.

 

Mr. Matthew Brown, of St. Peter's, in Canterbury, in 1721, gave by his will 10s. per annum for ever, to the in brothers and sisters of this hospital.

 

In 1768, Thomas Hanson, esq. of Crosby-square, London, gave by will, the interest of 500l, for ever, to the in brothers and sisters of this hospital; which being now invested in the 3 per cents. reduced Bank Annuties, produces 17l. 1os. per annum.

 

Besides these, the hospital had many temporary benefactors, as well towards the repairs of it, as in money; among which were, the archbishops Juxon, Sheldon and Sancrost. The yearly tenths of this hospital amounting to 2l. 7s. 10d. are payable to the archbishop.

 

In 1691, the yearly revenues of this hospital amounted in the whole to 101l. 5s. 9d. besides which were the fines upon the renewals of the leafes, and alderman Sabine's gift of 13s 4d. a piece, by the year, which came not into the master's hands, but was paid by one of the aldermen of the city.

 

The present building is antient; it has a decent hall and chapel, where the schoolmaster, who has a good apartment in the house, and is called the reader, instructs twenty boys gratis, in reading, writing, and arithmetic. There are rooms also for five in brothers, and five in-sisters, but some of these rooms are subject to be flooded in a very wet season. (fn. 23) The master has a neat handsome house, sitauted in a court near the hospital, but on the western or opposite side of the river.

 

¶The antient common seal of this hospital having been for a long time missing, the late master, Dr. Backhouse, at his own expence, supplied the hospital with another in the year 1783.

 

www.british-history.ac.uk/survey-kent/vol12/pp115-135

Second weekend of the annual Heritage event. It seems wrong to call it a weekend as it now compromises two weekends and many meedweek events too.

 

And scanning the events, there were some in Canterbury, so we decide to head to the city for a wander: jools would go shopping while I would go and do some snapping.

 

Of course there is always shopping first. Off to Tesco to fill the car, then fill the fridge and larder. I am away for three days, nearly four, so not much needed on top of some ready meals for Jools. Still came to seventy quid, mind.

 

A tub of cheese footballs did fall into the trolley, which helped.

 

Back home for breakfast of fruit and more coffee, and then off to Canterbury, parking near St Augustine's Abbey, walking to the centre via a subway. We parted, Jools went to Body Shop and a couple of other shops, while I walked down High Street, past the Eastbridge Hospital, Westgate Tower, Canterbury West station to St Dunstan's.

 

I could say I walked straight there, but I had a quarter of an hour to play with, so when I walked past a pasty shop, I went in for a coffee, and although wasn't really hungry, I did have a pasty anyway.

 

Once fed and watered, I walk on, up the hill past the station, and on the left was the church, the door already open despite it being only five to nine.

 

I went in, and found I had the church to myself.

 

Last time I was here, the Roper Chapel was being renovated and so I couldn't get inside. Important as it is in the chapel that the head of Thomas Moor, beheaded on Tower Hill on orders of Henry VIII. The windows of the chapel have several representation of him and scenes from his life. I snap them all.

 

I go round with the wide angle lens, now the church is fully open again.

 

That done, I walk back down into the centre heading for Eastbridge Hospital.

 

I have been here before, a decade ago, when I went round with just my wide angle lens, and go a few poor shots. So, with it being open for the Heritage Event, it seemed a good idea to go.

 

The hospital is ancient, it goes without saying, and is still in use.

 

I have walked up and down High Street in Canterbury dozens of times, and never really thought about what lay behind buildings on the west side.

 

At Eastbridge the ancient hospital straddles the Stour, or one branch of it, on the other is the timber framed house, Weavers, with the ducking stool further downstream.

 

I re-visited the hospital, and on the way out was told I could visit the gardens and Greyfriars Chapel at the same time.

 

A shop, former pawnbrokers, is now a charity shop for the gardens, and through the shop there is an exit to a path beside the river.

 

This opens out into two acres of gardens, still used to feed the patients in the hospital, and the monks who still live and work here.

 

There used to be a large priory church here, and there are parts of ancient walls and ruins to be seen, as well as a bridge of the same age.

 

Over the river, a former lodging building from the 13th century, as been converted into a chapel, Greyfriars, with pillars supporting the building as the river passes through a tunnel under it.

 

It was rather like walking through a wardrobe into a magical place, with the Stour gently flowing through it, and a few other visitors making their was to the Chapel and surrounding gardens.

 

We sat for 45 minutes in the meadow waiting for a service to end, so I could get shots. So, we people watched and delighted in Migrant Hawkers flying by.

 

Franciscan Gardens, Canterbury, Kent The sounds of the city seemed a hundred miles away.

 

I got the shots once the group of ladies left, and once I had the three shots, we followed sign to the exit, leaving the garden through a plane gate beside the old post office.

 

Two hundred and sixty Now what?

 

Well, nothing. Really.

 

So, we walk back slowly to the car, pay for three hours parking and drive back out of the city, down the A2 to the coast and home.

 

Back in time to listen to the footy, have a brew and try to avoid eating as we were going out in the evening. As, on Monday, it will be 14 years since we married, and as I will be in another country Monday, we celebrated it two days early.

 

Or would do come six.

 

Norwich were going for seven wins in a row, but never really got going against WBA, and fell a goal behind early on. Better in the second half, and drew level thanks to a deflection, but no win. But also, no defeat either.

 

Franciscan Gardens, Canterbury, Kent I had a shower and put on some clean clothes and a splash of aftershave.

 

Ready.

 

I drive us to Jen's, picked her up, then drove slowly to Sandwich, then over the marshes through Preston to Stourmouth.

 

We were not the only customers; there was a wedding reception, and there were gentlement and boys in three piece suits, and ladies and girls in glamourous gowns and neck-breaking heels. Occasionally the bride would literally sweep through the bar, the train of her dress cleaning as it went. Not sure if what was the right colour.....

 

We had ordered when I booked the table, a huge pan of paella with chorizo, chicken, ham and shrimp. Jen and I shared a bottle of red, and we ate and watched the comings and goings as the wedding party got ever more rauocus.

 

We rounded off with a cheeseboard between the three of us, and that was it.

 

Jools drove us back to Jen's, dropping her off, then back home.

 

I had decided to open the bottle of port once home, and did. This has been on the shelf since my last trip to Denmark and I saw it at the airport duty free.

 

It was every bit of good that I hoped it would be.

 

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The Hospital of St Thomas the Martyr of Eastbridge was founded in the 12th century in Canterbury, England, to provide overnight accommodation for poor pilgrims to the shrine of St Thomas Becket. It is now one of the ten almshouses still providing accommodation for elderly citizens of Canterbury[1] and is a grade I listed building.

 

The hospital is situated on the King's-bridge, near the Westgate, in Canterbury. It was established sometime after the death of Thomas Becket (1170), possibly as early as 1176, when Canterbury Cathedral became a site of pilgrimage; the hospital provided accommodation for the pilgrims. The earliest name recorded as founder is that of Edward FitzOdbold c. 1190, with further endowments by Archbishop Hubert Walter about 1203.[1] For many years, no special statutes were enacted, nor were any rules laid down for the treatment of pilgrims.

 

The original building consists of an entrance hall, undercroft, refectory and chapel, all built in around 1190. Like the ancient Entrance Hall beneath it, the Pilgrims’ Chapel dates from the twelfth century, but assumed its present proportions in the fourteenth century. The roof of the Pilgrims’ Chapel is a fine example of its kind: the style of woodwork and joinery indicate that it was built around 1285. The Undercroft's original function was as a dormitory, and architecturally shows the period of time where the round-headed arch was giving way to the Gothic style of pointed arch.

 

The Refectory is a large open room originally used as a dining space. On the north wall is a painting of Our Lord in Glory between the symbols of the four Evangelists dating from the thirteenth century. This fresco was only uncovered when the chimney and fireplace installed around the time of the dissolution were removed in 1879, and it has been conserved since its revelation.

 

Approval for the funding of a Chantry Chapel was sanctioned by Archbishop Sudbury in 1375; the original document confirming this endowment is housed in the Canterbury Cathedral archives. (Chantries were abolished in 1547, and this fell into disrepair until it was reclaimed and restored for its original use in 1969.)

  

Hospital of St. Thomas, Canterbury, old engraving.

In the fourteenth century the hospital was reformed by Archbishop John de Stratford, during the reign of Edward III; he created ordinances, as well as a code of regulations to be acted on concerning pilgrims. He ruled that every pilgrim in health could rest in the hospital for one night at the cost of four pence, that weak and infirm applicants were to be preferred to those with better health, and that women "upwards of forty" should attend to the bedding and administer medicines to the sick. He also appointed a Master in priest's orders, under whose guidance a secular chaplain served. Further lands and revenues from parishes were given by Stratford and by Archbishop Simon Sudbury.[1]

 

This institution survived the Dissolution of the Monasteries and other religious houses during the reigns of Henry VIII and Edward VI, although the pilgrimage to St Thomas of Canterbury did not survive this period. In 1569 Archbishop Matthew Parker issued new ordinances governing the Hospital and its Master which specified the maintenance of twelve beds for the 'wayfaring poor' and established a school in the chapel for twenty boys. This arrangement was confirmed by Archbishop John Whitgift by Act of Parliament in 1584.[1]

 

The school survived until 1879. The chapel was then little used until its restoration by the Master in 1927. Further restoration work has taken place during the twentieth century. Much of this work was financed by sale of some of the hospital's lands at Blean at the foundation of the University of Kent in the 1960s.[1] A list of the Masters of the Eastbridge Hospital up to the end of the eighteenth century is given by Edward Hasted.

 

Between 2014–2019, extensive restoration took place to preserve those rooms situated directly over the River Stour. This work was supported by the Viridor Credits scheme, which funds community, heritage, and biodiversity projects. It was formally opened to the public by the Bishop of Dover on 23 March 2019, and named after Archbishop William Juxon, who was a generous benefactor during his tenure, and gave money for an earlier restoration of this part of Eastbridge.

 

Eastbridge is a functional almshouse to this day, providing accommodation in eight individual apartments in areas of the buildings inaccessible to the public. Eastbridge is administered by Trustees whose main aims are the maintenance of the ancient buildings, which are of national historic interest, and the welfare of the almshouse residents (Indwellers).

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eastbridge_Hospital_of_St_Thomas_th...

 

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THE HOSPITAL OF KING'S BRIDGE, ALIAS EASTBRIDGE

IS likewise situated in the same hundred, being exempt from the liberties of the city, and within the jurisdiction of the county of Kent at large. It takes its name from its situation close on the south side of King's bridge. This hospital was formerly called, by both the names of Eastbridge hospital and the hospital of St. Thomas the martyr of Eastbridge; which latter it had, from its being at first erected and endowed by the charity and piety of St. Thomas Becket, in king Henry II.'s reign. (fn. 1) For this we have the testimony of one of his successors, archbishop Stratford; who, upon his new ordination of the hospital, and in the charter of it, acknowledged archbishop Becket to be the first founder and endower of it; besides which, there is no other record extant, or to be found concerning the foundation of this hospital, or the intent why it was erected. (fn. 2) But to look back to the times intervening between these two founders, in which it is recorded, that archbishop Hubert, who sat in this see in king John's reign, was an especial benefactor to it, by the gift of several mills, tithes, and other premises, which were confirmed by the prior and convent of Christ church. In this archbishop's time there was another hospital, neighbouring to this of King's, alias Eastbridge, called Cokyn's hospital, built and en dowed by one William Cokyn, a citizen of Canterbury, whose name in his posterity long survived him, in this city. (fn. 3) This hospital was dedicated to St. Nicholas and the Virgin and martyr St. Catherine; and was situated in the parish of St. Peter, almost directly opposite to the late Black Friars-gate, having had a lane by it, once called Cokyn's lane, though long since shut up, and built upon. This hospital lastmentioned, was built on the scite of a house adjoining to the above William Cokyn's dwelling, or else was turned into one by him. Afterwards, by his charter, he united these two hospitals, and then by another charter, entitled them to all his lands, possessions and chattels, and made them his heirs. This union was confirmed by the bull of pope Innocent III. anno 1203, in which it is called the hospital of St. Thomas of Canterbury; and in Cokyn's grant of union, it is stiled the hospital of St. Nicholas, St. Catherine, and St. Thomas the Martyr of Eastbridge. (fn. 4) Eastbridge hospital becoming thus by union or consolidation possessed of and owners of Cokyn's hospital, it ceased soon afterwards, probably, to be used as one, and was hired or rented out, among the possessions of the hospital of Eastbridge; in which state it continues at this time. (fn. 5)

 

To return now again to the hospital of St. Thomas of Eastbridge, for which there being no statutes for the government of it, archbishop Stratford, anno 15 Edward III. drew up certain ordinances for that purpose, (fn. 6) the effect of which was, that the hospital being founded for the receiving, lodging and sustaining of poor pilgrims, was then, owing to the negligence of the masters, who had wasted the revenues of it, but meanly endowed, and that the buildings of it were in a ruinous condition: to remedy which, and to continue the charitable intent of it, he decreed, that the church of St. Nicholas, Harbledown, should be for ever appropriated to it; that for the government of this hospital, there should be a master in priest's orders, appointed by the archbishop and his successors, who should keep a proper secular chaplain, or vicar, under him, to be removed at the master's will and pleasure. That such poor pilgrims as happened to die within this hospital, should be buried in Christ church yard, in the place heretofore allotted to them there. That every pilgrim, in health, should have no more than one night's lodging and entertainment, at the expence of 4d. that there should be twelve beds in the hospital, and that some woman, upwards of forty years of age, should look after the beds and provide all necessaries for the pilgrims; that those who were not in health, should be preferred to such as were; that no lepers should be received into it; that if there was a smaller number of pilgrims reforting to the hospital, at any one time, a greater number should be received into it, in lieu of such deficiency, at other times, as far as the revenues of the hospital would allow of it; and further, he inhibited them from having any common seal in the hospital, with several other particular orders and injunction, as may be seen in the instrument more at large.

 

This hospital had several very liberal benefactors in early times. Among others, Hamo de Crevequer gave the church of Blean to it, which gift was afterwards confirmed by archbishop Stephen Langton, and was afterwards appropriated to it by archbishop Sudbury in 1375, Thomas, lord Roos, of Hamlake, in the 33d year of king Edward III. gave the manor of Blean to it, and the year afterwards Sir John Lee, as appears by the ledger of the hospital, gave to it a messuage, with 180 acres of land and divers rents of assize, in the same parish, for the increase of vorks of piety in it. (fn. 7)

 

In the year 1362, archbishop Islip founded a perpetual chantry in this hospital, and transferred to it, for the benefit of it, at the request of Bartholomew de Bourne, the chantry founded in the church of Livingsborne, alias Beaksborne, by his ancestor James de Bourne. (fn. 8)

 

By the instruments of the archbishops Islip and Sudbury, dated in the above year, it appears, by the former, that there was founded in this hospital, a perpetual chantry for divine services; the priest of which was to receive a yearly stipend of ten marcs, of the master of the hospital, out of the revenues of it; for which he was to celebrate divine service, and minister the sacraments and sacramentals in it, to such poor and infirm as should resort hither; and that the priest and his successors should possess the mansion, within the bounds of the hospital, between the infirmary and the great gate of it, and the chamber over it. After which king Edward III, having given a messuage, called the Chaunge, at the time almost wholly in ruins, to Thomas Newe de Wolton, then master of this hospital, and his successors, in aid of the maintenance of the priest who should celebrate in it for his health, for his soul afterwards, and that of John at Lee, who in part founded the chantry, &c. and the said messuage having been repaired and rebuilt by the executors, and at the cost, though charity, of his predecessor, the value of the rent amounted to seven marcs yearly, and would, as it was presumed, amount still higher in future; and it being difficult at that time to find a proper priest, who would undergo the duty and residence required in it, for the salary of ten marcs, the king's piety in augmenting the priest's stipend, was as yet frustrated—Archbishop Simon Sudbury, therefore, by his instrument dated in 1375, in which he recited the above ordination of his predecessor, ordained and decreed, in addition to that before-mentioned, and by the consent of the said Thomas, master of this hospital, and the executors of his predecessor, that the endowment of this chantry of ten marcs, should be augmented with five marcs and an half out of the seven marcs of rent of the messuage given by the king as aforesaid, with power of distress, &c. and whereas the presentation of the chantry of Bourne, united to this hospital, as in the ordination of the first chantry aforesaid made by his predecessor, more plainly appeared, belonged to Bartholomew de Bourne, his heirs, or assigns, before the union; he therefore decreed and ordained, that the presentation and collation to be made to the same, when vacant, should belong to him and his successors, and to the said Bartholomew de Bourne, his heirs, or assigns, alternately; the first turn to belong to the archbishop, because the assigns of Bartholomew de Bourne (fn. 9) had presented the then incumbent to it, &c. (fn. 10)

 

Though the revenues of this hospital lay chiesly in the parish of Blean, yet it was possessed of other rents, lands and tenements in Canterbury, Harbledown, and in Birchington. It was likewise possessed of lands in Herne, Reculver, Swaycliffe, Chistlet, and Bekesborne, belonging to the before-mentioned chantry, which at the suppression of it were seized on, as such.

 

By a bull of pope Honorius III. this hospital had the privilege of not paying tithes of their gardens. (fn. 11)

 

By the return made to the king's commissioners in king Henry VIII.'s reign, it appears, that there was here a neat handsome chapel, dedicated to the Virgin Mary, to which had belonged two bells, to ring to service, as was reported to them by the parson and churchwardens of All Saints; who said further, that this hospital was a parish church, in which there was ministred all sacraments and sacramentals, to the poor people resorting thither, and to the keeper of it, and his household, and all others remaining within the precinct of it, by the chantry priest; the matter of fact was, that this chapel was formerly served by the chantry priest of the chantry in it, mentioned before, to have been transferred to it, who had 10l. 6s. 8d. yearly stipend or wages, besides his mansion or dwelling, which was at the west end of the hospital, of all which it was deprived at the suppression of it by the statute of the 1st year of king Edward VI. (fn. 12) when a pension of six pounds per annum was granted to Nicholas Thompson, alias Campion, the incumbent of it, which was remaining anno 1553. (fn. 13)

 

The value of the revenues of the hospital itself, as returned anno 26 Henry VIII. according to both Dugdale and Speed, were 23l. 18s. 9⅓d. per annum, but this must have been the clear income, for according to Sancrost's manuscript valor, they amounted in the whole to 43l. 12s. 3d. (fn. 14)

 

The state of this hospital, as it stood in the time of cardinal Pole, at archdeacon Harpsfield's visitation in 1557, was, as appears by the entry in the book of it; that they were bound to receive way faring and hurt men, and to have eight beds for men, and four for women; to remain for a might, and more, if they were not able to depart; and the master of the hospital to be charged with their burial, and they had twenty lords of wood yearly allowed, and 26s. a year for drink, that there was 10l. land a year, with a mansion, which the priest always had for officiating in the chapel, taken away by the king, and that it was the head church to St. Cosmus and St. Damian Blean, but that they had no ornaments but organs. (fn. 15)

 

This hospital, though it outlasted the general suppression of most of the foundations of the like sort in the reigns of king Henry VIII. and king Edward VI. yet in the beginning of queen Elizabeth's reign, the lands and tenements belonging to it, as well as the hospital itself, then converted into tenements, were occu pied and possessed by private persons, until archbishop Parker, in the 10th year of that reign, recovered, by his prudent care, some of the lands and possessions, and restored the house again to pious and charitable uses. He framed new ordinances for the government of it, which he wisely contrived should be suitable to those times, as well as agreeable to the first foundation of the hospital, and the former statutes of archbishop Stratford, as far as might be; reserving nevertheless, a power to his successors, archbishops of Canterbury, to revise, alter, abolish and new make all, or any part of them; they are dated May 20, 1569. (fn. 16)

 

In them it appears, that in consequence of the ordinances of archbishop Stratford, the master of the hospital might take all the profits of it to his own use, bestowing only for the relief of wandering and wayfaring brethren, and poor, in bread and drink, after the rate of 4d. a day, and one night's lodging for twelve persons, if so many came there at one time, in the whole not above 6l. 2s. 6d. per annum, but the archbishop (Parker) by the authority in the above former ordinance concerning the disposition of the profits of this hospital, to him and his successors reserved, to alter and change the same, did by these ordinances in that behalf made, under his hand and seal, not only increase the above sum, to be from thenceforth bestowed on certain poor inhabiting within the county of the city of Canterbury, but also appointed other sums of money thereout, yearly to be paid towards the keeping of a freeschool, for a certain number of poor children of the county of the said city, to be taught to write and read freely within the hospital.

 

By the same ordinance, as well as by an indenture, between the master of this hospital and the master of Corpus Christi, or Benet college, in Cambridge, dated May 22, anno 11th Elizabeth, the archbishop founded out of the revenues of this hospital, two scholarships, each of the yearly value of 3l. 6s. 8d. that sum to be paid yearly from thence, by the master of the hospital to the master of the college; the two scholars to be chosen, named, examined and approved by the master of this hospital and the dean of Canterbury, if any such there should be; if not, then by the master only, and to be taken from the free-school in Canterbury, being such of the scholars there as were born within Kent, and being sent to Cambridge, should be called Canterbury scholars; who, after their admittance and receipt there, should remain and continue in that college, according to the orders and statutes of it, and should have of the provision of it, convenient chambers, commons, reading and other necessaries, as other scholars in it, according to common custom, for the term of two hundred years next, from the date of the indenture, with other rules and regulations in it relating to them. (fn. 17)

 

Not long after this, queen Elizabeth issued a commission of charitable uses, to enquire into the state and condition of this hospital, which was done, and a return thereof made accordingly; and again, soon after the death of archbishop Parker, there was a second commission, directed to Sir James Hales and others, who certisied, that the hospital house stood ruinated, and neither master nor brethren were resident, or dwelling of long time. The house was let out into tenements for yearly rent. The beds that were wont to lodge and harbour poor people resorting thither, were gone and sold, contrary to the old order and foundation of the same; and that the hospital was relinquished and concealed from the queen, &c. Upon which, she granted it, with all its revenues, by letters patent, dated July 20, in her 18th year, to John Farnham, one of her gentlemen pensioners, to hold in see farm for ever. —He soon afterwards conveyed his interest in it for 550l. and the release beside of a debt owing by him, to Geo. Hayes. After this, archbishop Whitgift recovered this hospital, with the revenues of it, from Hayes, and then settled it upon a new foundation, so firm and sure, that it has continued to the present time, and remains a perpetual monument of the archbishop's piety and prudence, who may be justly reputed the sounder and restorer of it; (fn. 18) and he framed new ordinances and statutes, for the better government of it, by which the hospital is now ruled. In these it is, among other things, ordered and decreed, that the archbishop should collate the master, who should be in holy orders, and should be instituted and inducted according to the usual form and custom, who should have the lodging known by the name of the master's lodging, in the hospital; and a yearly stipend of 61. 13s. 4d. and twenty loads of wood from the lands belonging to it, to be delivered cost free. That the master should appoint a school-master, who by himself or deputy, should freely instruct twenty poor children of this city, above the age of seven years, to write, read and cast accompts, and to have books, paper, &c. provided for them, out of the prosits of the hospital, and not to remain in the school above three years. The school-master to have a lodging in the hospital, and a stipend of four pounds, and for his further relief, if the master approved of it, to be receiver of the rents, &c. of the hospital; for which he should receive 26s. 8d. and two loads of wood yearly, to be delivered cost free, and one summer livery cloth. That out of the prosits of the hospital, there should be paid for ever, to the two scholars to be taken out of the common school at Canterbury, commonly called the mynte, by the master of the hospital, with the consent of the archbishop, and placed in Benet college, 3l. 6s. 8d. each, according to the former ordinances made of it. That whereas by former ordinances, the master of the hospital was only tied to pay in time of peace, unto the poor passengers, or to such other poor people as the master should think good, thirty pence a week; and in time of war that payment ceasing, to provide twelve beds for the lodging of poor soldiers, passing through this city, within the hospital, for the space of one night only, which is now grown wholly out of use, especially since the loss of Calais; therefore, for the better relief of the poor inhabiting within this city and the suburbs of it, it was ordered, that the former last recited orders should cease, and instead of them, there should be five inbrothers, and five in-sisters, to be permanent and have their habitation in the hospital; and after the space of twenty years next ensuing, there should be five other out-brothers, and five others called out-sisters; each of the said in-brothers and in-sisters to have a several dwelling and lodging within the hospital, and 26s. 8d. by the year, and one load of wood to be delivered cost free, between Midsummer and Michaelmas; and each of the out brothers and out-sisters to have 26s. 8d. by the year only; that the mayor of this city should from time to time, nominate to the master of the hospital for every of the brothers and sisters rooms, when they should be void and unfurnished, two poor persons, men or women, as the places should require, being lame, impotent, blind, or aged, above fifty years of age, who should have inhabited within the city, of suburbs, seven years before; of which two, the master should chuse and admit one; and in default of the mayor's nomi nating for the space of three months, the master to make choice, and admit any, qualisied as above-mentioned. That in the room of every out-brother and sister, the mayor should nominate such persons as above specisied, whereof one at least should be such as had dwelt in the city or suburbs, by the space of three whole years at least, to the end that such as dwelt there, and not within the county of the city, should receive the whole benefit of these ordinances. That the master, out of the profits of the hospital, should repair and sustain it, and every part within the precincts of it, and also sufficiently sustain and maintain the bridge, called the king's bridge, alias Eastbridge, within the city of Canterbury; (fn. 19) and pay to the queen, her heirs and successors, 7l. 10s. yearly, due to her for the pension of a chantry, sometime within the hospital, and all other dues and payments going out of it. That the master should not let for years or lives, the lands or tenements, nor make any woodsales of the wood, without the express consent, in writing, of the archbishop, and should yearly make an accompt to him, if demanded, so that of the surplusage all charges deducted, the portions of the brethren and sisters might be increased at the will of the archbishop, as theretofore had been used. That the in-brethren or sisters, master or schoolmaster, who should die within the precincts of the hospital, might be buried within the church-yard of the cathedral, according to a former agreement made between the archbishop, his predecessor and the then prior and convent of Christ church, with many other orders and re gulations mentioned in them, (fn. 20) all which were confirmed and ordered to be inrolled in chancery, by an act passed in the 27th year of that reign, (fn. 21) by the means of which, the rights of this hospital have been preserved to this time.

 

There have been some few modern benefactors to this hospital.

 

Mr. Avery Sabin, sometime an alderman of this city, by his will in 1648, gave a rent charge out of his estate at Monkton, in Thanet, of 20l. per annum, for charitable uses to the poor of this city, of which, ten marcs were assigned yearly to be paid to the five in-brothers and five in-sisters of this hospital. (fn. 22)

 

Mrs. Elizabeth Lovejoy, widow, by her will in 1694, gave, out of her personal estate, the sum of five pounds yearly to this hospital, to be shared and divided among the poor of it, in like manner as her gift to Cogan's hospital, above-mentioned. Besides which, this hospital receives yearly the sixth part of the interest, due from 1631. 16s. 3d. being the sum due from Mrs. Masters's legacy, who died in 1716, which is vested in the mayor and commonalty, in trust, for the several hospitals in Canterbury, of which a full account may be seen among the charitable benefactions to this city.

 

In 1708 John Battely, D. D. archdeacon of Canterbury, and master of this hospital, new built three of the sisters lodgings, and did several other great repairs, and at his death left by his will, to the in-brothers and sisters, one hundred pounds, the interest of which he ordered should be proportioned by Mr. John Bradock, of St. Stephen's, and Mr. Somerscales, vicar of Doddington.

 

Mr. John Bradock, master of this hospital, in 1719 gave by his will, 25l. 13s. 4d. for the better payment of the poor people, at Lady-day and Michaelmas.

 

Mr. Matthew Brown, of St. Peter's, in Canterbury, in 1721, gave by his will 10s. per annum for ever, to the in brothers and sisters of this hospital.

 

In 1768, Thomas Hanson, esq. of Crosby-square, London, gave by will, the interest of 500l, for ever, to the in brothers and sisters of this hospital; which being now invested in the 3 per cents. reduced Bank Annuties, produces 17l. 1os. per annum.

 

Besides these, the hospital had many temporary benefactors, as well towards the repairs of it, as in money; among which were, the archbishops Juxon, Sheldon and Sancrost. The yearly tenths of this hospital amounting to 2l. 7s. 10d. are payable to the archbishop.

 

In 1691, the yearly revenues of this hospital amounted in the whole to 101l. 5s. 9d. besides which were the fines upon the renewals of the leafes, and alderman Sabine's gift of 13s 4d. a piece, by the year, which came not into the master's hands, but was paid by one of the aldermen of the city.

 

The present building is antient; it has a decent hall and chapel, where the schoolmaster, who has a good apartment in the house, and is called the reader, instructs twenty boys gratis, in reading, writing, and arithmetic. There are rooms also for five in brothers, and five in-sisters, but some of these rooms are subject to be flooded in a very wet season. (fn. 23) The master has a neat handsome house, sitauted in a court near the hospital, but on the western or opposite side of the river.

 

¶The antient common seal of this hospital having been for a long time missing, the late master, Dr. Backhouse, at his own expence, supplied the hospital with another in the year 1783.

 

www.british-history.ac.uk/survey-kent/vol12/pp115-135

This started out as a picture of a cheeseboard but I got caught up with the fruit ...

 

It was all very tasty though.

Second weekend of the annual Heritage event. It seems wrong to call it a weekend as it now compromises two weekends and many meedweek events too.

 

And scanning the events, there were some in Canterbury, so we decide to head to the city for a wander: jools would go shopping while I would go and do some snapping.

 

Of course there is always shopping first. Off to Tesco to fill the car, then fill the fridge and larder. I am away for three days, nearly four, so not much needed on top of some ready meals for Jools. Still came to seventy quid, mind.

 

A tub of cheese footballs did fall into the trolley, which helped.

 

Back home for breakfast of fruit and more coffee, and then off to Canterbury, parking near St Augustine's Abbey, walking to the centre via a subway. We parted, Jools went to Body Shop and a couple of other shops, while I walked down High Street, past the Eastbridge Hospital, Westgate Tower, Canterbury West station to St Dunstan's.

 

I could say I walked straight there, but I had a quarter of an hour to play with, so when I walked past a pasty shop, I went in for a coffee, and although wasn't really hungry, I did have a pasty anyway.

 

Once fed and watered, I walk on, up the hill past the station, and on the left was the church, the door already open despite it being only five to nine.

 

I went in, and found I had the church to myself.

 

Last time I was here, the Roper Chapel was being renovated and so I couldn't get inside. Important as it is in the chapel that the head of Thomas Moor, beheaded on Tower Hill on orders of Henry VIII. The windows of the chapel have several representation of him and scenes from his life. I snap them all.

 

I go round with the wide angle lens, now the church is fully open again.

 

That done, I walk back down into the centre heading for Eastbridge Hospital.

 

I have been here before, a decade ago, when I went round with just my wide angle lens, and go a few poor shots. So, with it being open for the Heritage Event, it seemed a good idea to go.

 

The hospital is ancient, it goes without saying, and is still in use.

 

I have walked up and down High Street in Canterbury dozens of times, and never really thought about what lay behind buildings on the west side.

 

At Eastbridge the ancient hospital straddles the Stour, or one branch of it, on the other is the timber framed house, Weavers, with the ducking stool further downstream.

 

I re-visited the hospital, and on the way out was told I could visit the gardens and Greyfriars Chapel at the same time.

 

A shop, former pawnbrokers, is now a charity shop for the gardens, and through the shop there is an exit to a path beside the river.

 

This opens out into two acres of gardens, still used to feed the patients in the hospital, and the monks who still live and work here.

 

There used to be a large priory church here, and there are parts of ancient walls and ruins to be seen, as well as a bridge of the same age.

 

Over the river, a former lodging building from the 13th century, as been converted into a chapel, Greyfriars, with pillars supporting the building as the river passes through a tunnel under it.

 

It was rather like walking through a wardrobe into a magical place, with the Stour gently flowing through it, and a few other visitors making their was to the Chapel and surrounding gardens.

 

We sat for 45 minutes in the meadow waiting for a service to end, so I could get shots. So, we people watched and delighted in Migrant Hawkers flying by.

 

Franciscan Gardens, Canterbury, Kent The sounds of the city seemed a hundred miles away.

 

I got the shots once the group of ladies left, and once I had the three shots, we followed sign to the exit, leaving the garden through a plane gate beside the old post office.

 

Two hundred and sixty Now what?

 

Well, nothing. Really.

 

So, we walk back slowly to the car, pay for three hours parking and drive back out of the city, down the A2 to the coast and home.

 

Back in time to listen to the footy, have a brew and try to avoid eating as we were going out in the evening. As, on Monday, it will be 14 years since we married, and as I will be in another country Monday, we celebrated it two days early.

 

Or would do come six.

 

Norwich were going for seven wins in a row, but never really got going against WBA, and fell a goal behind early on. Better in the second half, and drew level thanks to a deflection, but no win. But also, no defeat either.

 

Franciscan Gardens, Canterbury, Kent I had a shower and put on some clean clothes and a splash of aftershave.

 

Ready.

 

I drive us to Jen's, picked her up, then drove slowly to Sandwich, then over the marshes through Preston to Stourmouth.

 

We were not the only customers; there was a wedding reception, and there were gentlement and boys in three piece suits, and ladies and girls in glamourous gowns and neck-breaking heels. Occasionally the bride would literally sweep through the bar, the train of her dress cleaning as it went. Not sure if what was the right colour.....

 

We had ordered when I booked the table, a huge pan of paella with chorizo, chicken, ham and shrimp. Jen and I shared a bottle of red, and we ate and watched the comings and goings as the wedding party got ever more rauocus.

 

We rounded off with a cheeseboard between the three of us, and that was it.

 

Jools drove us back to Jen's, dropping her off, then back home.

 

I had decided to open the bottle of port once home, and did. This has been on the shelf since my last trip to Denmark and I saw it at the airport duty free.

 

It was every bit of good that I hoped it would be.

  

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OF THE MANY RELIGIOUS FOUNDATIONS, HOSPITALS, AND ALMS-HOUSES which were within the circuit of this city and its suburbs, most of them were exempt from the liberty of it; these therefore will be treated of hereafter, among those districts which are esteemed to be exempt from it, and to lie within the county at large. THOSE NOW HELD to be within the jurisdiction of the city, are as follows:

 

THE GREY FRIARS, which was a convent here, stood at a small distance southward from St. Peter'sstreet, of which there are remaining only some walls and ruined arches; the scite of it is very low and damp, among the meads and garden-grounds, (fn. 1) having two entrances or alleys leading to it, where formerly stood two gates; one called Northgate, in St. Peter'sstreet, facing that of the Black Friars; the other was called Eastgate, to which the entrance was by a bridge at the end of Lamb-lane, in Stour-street.

 

These friars, called at first Franciscans, from the name of their founder St. Francis; (fn. 2) the head of whom was called the guardian, were afterwards likewise called Grey Friars, from their habit, which, in imitation of their founder, was a long grey coat down to their heels, with a cowl or hood, (fn. 3) and a cord or rope about their loins, instead of a girdle. They were likewise called Minorites, from their being the lowest and most humble of all orders; and sometimes Observants, from their being more observant and strict to the rules of their order, than a more negligent and loose sort of them. They were stiled Mendicants, from their professing wilful poverty, subsisting chiefly upon alms, which they used to ask and receive from door to door; by which friars were distinguished from monks, who kept at home within their convents, and lived in common upon their own substance. These Franciscans came first into England in king Henry III.'s reign, about the year 1224. (fn. 4) How they were afterwards en tertained, or accommodated with a home, is told by the author of the Antiquities of the English Franciscans, entitled Collectanea Anglo-Minoritica; by this we learn, that these friars, viz. Aghellus de Pisa and his companions, on their coming to Canterbury in the year 1220, were charitably harboured and entertained for two days by the Benedictine monks, in the priory of the Holy Trinity, after which they were taken in at the Poor Priests hospital, where however they continued no longer than whilst a part of the school belonging to it was fitted up for their reception. Here some of them staid to build their first convent; for which purpose Alexander, the provost or master of the hospital, gave them a spot of ground set out with a convenient house, and a decent chapel or oratory, which by his care and charitable endeavours were there built for them, and here he placed these friars, and this was their first convent for this order in England, and was held in the name of the corporation or community of Canterbury, for their use, they being by their profession incapable of possessing it as their own right.

 

Here they lived for some time, increasing in numbers and popularity, having gained the esteem of many persons of dignity and consequence; among whom were archbishop Stephen Langton, his brother the archdeacon, and Henry de Sandwich, who became their first great benefactors and patrons. Among others who admired them for their sanctity, was a devout and worthy citizen, of a flourishing family then in this city, as they were afterwards in the county, one John Digg or Diggs, then an alderman of it, (fn. 5) into whose favour they had so far insinuated themselves, that he purchased for them a piece of ground, lying between the two streams of the river Stour here, then called the island of Binnewyth, (fn. 6) and shortly afterwards translated them thither. (fn. 7)

 

The friars being seated here, and there being many houses and much ground belonging to the priory of Christ-church, within the precinct of their convent, they laid claim to them, and they made themselves absolute possessors of the whole of this island; and the monks seeing the common people much inclined to favour them, and not willing to incur theirs, left it might bring with it the people's displeasure too, made a virtue of a necessity, and after the friars had been no small time in possession, without payment of any of the accustomed rents and services, which the former tenants of the monks were bound to pay; they, by a composition made, as they phrased it, through pure motives of charity, not only remitted to them all arrears past and for the future, an abatement of the one half of the rent; on condition of their paying in full of all services and demands, for the time to come, iii shillings yearly rent. (fn. 8) How this might stand with their founder's rule, and their own vow, appears strange; for by their rule set forth articulately in Matthew Paris, they were clearly debarred, not only by their vow of poverty, but by express precept besides, from all property, either house or ground, or any kind of substance, but as pilgrims and strangers in this world, serving the Lord in poverty and humility, by going and begging alms with considence, &c.

 

These Franciscans, or Minorite friars, had granted to them by several popes, many privileges, immunities, and indulgencies; (fn. 9) besides their exemption and immunities from episcopal and other ordinary jurisdiction; in the matter of tithes they were privileged from the payment of any, either of their house, orchard, or garden, and the nutriment, i. e. the herbage or agistment of their cattle, as in the decretals; in matters of burial, they had liberam sepulturam, i. e. might chuse wheresoever any of them would his place of burial, paying the fourth part of the obventions to the parish church; and as a thing of which multitudes were ambitious, numbers of persons of high degree and estimation were desirous of living, dying, and being interred in the habit of these Franciscans, believing that whosoever was buried among them, especially if in the holy and virtuous habit of a poor friar, he should not be only happily secured from evil spirits, which might otherwise disturb the quiet of his grave, but assure to himself an entrance into the kingdom of heaven. (fn. 10)

 

There is but little further to be mentioned concerning these friars and their house, only that in king Henry VII.'s reign, this convent became one of those which were called Observants, being those who put themselves under the more strict discipline of this order, in opposition to whom, the others gained the name of Conventuals, who continued under the former relaxed state of the rules of their primitive institution, though still in general they were called Franciscan friars. (fn. 11)

 

This house was dissolved in the 25th year of king Henry VIII. anno 1534, those of this order being the first that were suppressed by him. (fn. 12) Hugh Rich was the last principal of this house.

 

As to the benefactions to this convent, it should be observed, that whoever died of any worth always remembered these friars in their wills, and in general gave liberally both to their church and convent; among others, it appears by the wills in the Prerogative-office, in Canterbury, that William Woodland, of Holy Cross parish, anno 1450, by his will gave five pounds towards the reparation of their church, and five marcs besides to the repairing of their dormitory or dortor; and Hamon Beale, a citizen, and in his time mayor of Canterbury, chusing this church for his place of burial, as Isabel his first wife had done before, gave forty shillings in money to this convent.

 

¶There were several persons of worth and estimation, as well of the clergy as laity, buried in the church of this convent, which is so entirely destroyed, that the scite of it can only be conjectured. Weever, however, has preserved some few of them. These were, Bartholomew, lord Badlesmere, steward to king Edward II.'s houshold, who was hanged for rebellion in 1321, at the gallows at the Blean, near this city; Sir Giles Badlesmere, his son; Elizabeth Domina de Chilham; Sir William Manston, Sir Roger Manston, his brother; Sir Thomas Brockhull, and the lady Joan, his wife; Sir Thomas Brockhull, their son, and lady Editha, his wife; Sir Fulk Peyforer, Sir Thomas Drayner, lady Alice de Marinis; lady Candlin; Sir Alan Pennington, of Lancashire; who died in this city; lady Audry de Valence; Sir William Trussell; Sir William Balyol; Sir Bartholomew Ashburnham, and Sir John Mottenden, a friar of this house; (fn. 13) and by the register in the Prerog. office above-mentioned, it appears, that Hamon Beal, who is mentioned above as a benefactor to this convent, and who was mayor of this city in 1464, by his will anno 1492, appointed to be buried in the middle of the nave of the church of these Friars Minors, and to have a tomb three feet high, at his executors charges, set over him and Elizabeth his wife; (fn. 14) that Thomas Barton, of Northgate, in Canterbury, by his will in 1476, ordered to be buried in the church of this house, and that a little square stone of marble set in the wall over the place where he should be buried, with images and figures of brass of his father, mother, himself, wives and children, &c. Margaret Cherche, of St. Alphage, in the nave of the church before the high cross in 1486—John Forde, of St. George's, in the north part of the church, near the altar of St. Cle ment there, in 1487—and that Richard Martyn, bishop in the universal church, by his will in 1502, ordered to be buried in the church of these Grey Friars, to whom he devised his crysmatory of silver, and parcel thereof gilt, and the case thereto belonging, and mentions the chapel of St. Saviour, in this church.— Elizabeth Master was buried in the church of these Friars in 1522; Anne Culpeper, widow of Harry Agar, esq. by her will anno 1532, ordered to be buried, if she died at Canterbury, at the Friars Observants there.

 

Weever says, that this priory was valued at that time at 39l. 12s. 8½d. per annum, but there is no valuation of it either in Dugdale or Speed. (fn. 15)

 

The scite of this priory was granted anno 31 king Henry VIII. to Thomas Spilman, (fn. 16) who levied a fine of it in the 35th year of that reign, and then alienated it to Erasmus Finch and his wife, (fn. 17) after which, I find it next in the name of Lovelace, for it appears by the escheat rolls, that William Lovelace died possessed of it in the 25th year of queen Elizabeth, holding it in capite, in which year his son, of the same name, had livery of it; (fn. 18) Sir William Lovelace resided here and died possessed of it in 1629; (fn. 19) since which it has been for many years in the possession of the family of Hartcup; the present possessor of it being Thomas Hartcup, esq.

 

A fee-farm rent of four shillings is yearly paid to the crown for this estate, by the name of the Little Friars, in Canterbury.

 

www.british-history.ac.uk/survey-kent/vol11/pp164-184

Second weekend of the annual Heritage event. It seems wrong to call it a weekend as it now compromises two weekends and many meedweek events too.

 

And scanning the events, there were some in Canterbury, so we decide to head to the city for a wander: jools would go shopping while I would go and do some snapping.

 

Of course there is always shopping first. Off to Tesco to fill the car, then fill the fridge and larder. I am away for three days, nearly four, so not much needed on top of some ready meals for Jools. Still came to seventy quid, mind.

 

A tub of cheese footballs did fall into the trolley, which helped.

 

Back home for breakfast of fruit and more coffee, and then off to Canterbury, parking near St Augustine's Abbey, walking to the centre via a subway. We parted, Jools went to Body Shop and a couple of other shops, while I walked down High Street, past the Eastbridge Hospital, Westgate Tower, Canterbury West station to St Dunstan's.

 

I could say I walked straight there, but I had a quarter of an hour to play with, so when I walked past a pasty shop, I went in for a coffee, and although wasn't really hungry, I did have a pasty anyway.

 

Once fed and watered, I walk on, up the hill past the station, and on the left was the church, the door already open despite it being only five to nine.

 

I went in, and found I had the church to myself.

 

Last time I was here, the Roper Chapel was being renovated and so I couldn't get inside. Important as it is in the chapel that the head of Thomas Moor, beheaded on Tower Hill on orders of Henry VIII. The windows of the chapel have several representation of him and scenes from his life. I snap them all.

 

I go round with the wide angle lens, now the church is fully open again.

 

That done, I walk back down into the centre heading for Eastbridge Hospital.

 

I have been here before, a decade ago, when I went round with just my wide angle lens, and go a few poor shots. So, with it being open for the Heritage Event, it seemed a good idea to go.

 

The hospital is ancient, it goes without saying, and is still in use.

 

I have walked up and down High Street in Canterbury dozens of times, and never really thought about what lay behind buildings on the west side.

 

At Eastbridge the ancient hospital straddles the Stour, or one branch of it, on the other is the timber framed house, Weavers, with the ducking stool further downstream.

 

I re-visited the hospital, and on the way out was told I could visit the gardens and Greyfriars Chapel at the same time.

 

A shop, former pawnbrokers, is now a charity shop for the gardens, and through the shop there is an exit to a path beside the river.

 

This opens out into two acres of gardens, still used to feed the patients in the hospital, and the monks who still live and work here.

 

There used to be a large priory church here, and there are parts of ancient walls and ruins to be seen, as well as a bridge of the same age.

 

Over the river, a former lodging building from the 13th century, as been converted into a chapel, Greyfriars, with pillars supporting the building as the river passes through a tunnel under it.

 

It was rather like walking through a wardrobe into a magical place, with the Stour gently flowing through it, and a few other visitors making their was to the Chapel and surrounding gardens.

 

We sat for 45 minutes in the meadow waiting for a service to end, so I could get shots. So, we people watched and delighted in Migrant Hawkers flying by.

 

Franciscan Gardens, Canterbury, Kent The sounds of the city seemed a hundred miles away.

 

I got the shots once the group of ladies left, and once I had the three shots, we followed sign to the exit, leaving the garden through a plane gate beside the old post office.

 

Two hundred and sixty Now what?

 

Well, nothing. Really.

 

So, we walk back slowly to the car, pay for three hours parking and drive back out of the city, down the A2 to the coast and home.

 

Back in time to listen to the footy, have a brew and try to avoid eating as we were going out in the evening. As, on Monday, it will be 14 years since we married, and as I will be in another country Monday, we celebrated it two days early.

 

Or would do come six.

 

Norwich were going for seven wins in a row, but never really got going against WBA, and fell a goal behind early on. Better in the second half, and drew level thanks to a deflection, but no win. But also, no defeat either.

 

Franciscan Gardens, Canterbury, Kent I had a shower and put on some clean clothes and a splash of aftershave.

 

Ready.

 

I drive us to Jen's, picked her up, then drove slowly to Sandwich, then over the marshes through Preston to Stourmouth.

 

We were not the only customers; there was a wedding reception, and there were gentlement and boys in three piece suits, and ladies and girls in glamourous gowns and neck-breaking heels. Occasionally the bride would literally sweep through the bar, the train of her dress cleaning as it went. Not sure if what was the right colour.....

 

We had ordered when I booked the table, a huge pan of paella with chorizo, chicken, ham and shrimp. Jen and I shared a bottle of red, and we ate and watched the comings and goings as the wedding party got ever more rauocus.

 

We rounded off with a cheeseboard between the three of us, and that was it.

 

Jools drove us back to Jen's, dropping her off, then back home.

 

I had decided to open the bottle of port once home, and did. This has been on the shelf since my last trip to Denmark and I saw it at the airport duty free.

 

It was every bit of good that I hoped it would be.

  

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OF THE MANY RELIGIOUS FOUNDATIONS, HOSPITALS, AND ALMS-HOUSES which were within the circuit of this city and its suburbs, most of them were exempt from the liberty of it; these therefore will be treated of hereafter, among those districts which are esteemed to be exempt from it, and to lie within the county at large. THOSE NOW HELD to be within the jurisdiction of the city, are as follows:

 

THE GREY FRIARS, which was a convent here, stood at a small distance southward from St. Peter'sstreet, of which there are remaining only some walls and ruined arches; the scite of it is very low and damp, among the meads and garden-grounds, (fn. 1) having two entrances or alleys leading to it, where formerly stood two gates; one called Northgate, in St. Peter'sstreet, facing that of the Black Friars; the other was called Eastgate, to which the entrance was by a bridge at the end of Lamb-lane, in Stour-street.

 

These friars, called at first Franciscans, from the name of their founder St. Francis; (fn. 2) the head of whom was called the guardian, were afterwards likewise called Grey Friars, from their habit, which, in imitation of their founder, was a long grey coat down to their heels, with a cowl or hood, (fn. 3) and a cord or rope about their loins, instead of a girdle. They were likewise called Minorites, from their being the lowest and most humble of all orders; and sometimes Observants, from their being more observant and strict to the rules of their order, than a more negligent and loose sort of them. They were stiled Mendicants, from their professing wilful poverty, subsisting chiefly upon alms, which they used to ask and receive from door to door; by which friars were distinguished from monks, who kept at home within their convents, and lived in common upon their own substance. These Franciscans came first into England in king Henry III.'s reign, about the year 1224. (fn. 4) How they were afterwards en tertained, or accommodated with a home, is told by the author of the Antiquities of the English Franciscans, entitled Collectanea Anglo-Minoritica; by this we learn, that these friars, viz. Aghellus de Pisa and his companions, on their coming to Canterbury in the year 1220, were charitably harboured and entertained for two days by the Benedictine monks, in the priory of the Holy Trinity, after which they were taken in at the Poor Priests hospital, where however they continued no longer than whilst a part of the school belonging to it was fitted up for their reception. Here some of them staid to build their first convent; for which purpose Alexander, the provost or master of the hospital, gave them a spot of ground set out with a convenient house, and a decent chapel or oratory, which by his care and charitable endeavours were there built for them, and here he placed these friars, and this was their first convent for this order in England, and was held in the name of the corporation or community of Canterbury, for their use, they being by their profession incapable of possessing it as their own right.

 

Here they lived for some time, increasing in numbers and popularity, having gained the esteem of many persons of dignity and consequence; among whom were archbishop Stephen Langton, his brother the archdeacon, and Henry de Sandwich, who became their first great benefactors and patrons. Among others who admired them for their sanctity, was a devout and worthy citizen, of a flourishing family then in this city, as they were afterwards in the county, one John Digg or Diggs, then an alderman of it, (fn. 5) into whose favour they had so far insinuated themselves, that he purchased for them a piece of ground, lying between the two streams of the river Stour here, then called the island of Binnewyth, (fn. 6) and shortly afterwards translated them thither. (fn. 7)

 

The friars being seated here, and there being many houses and much ground belonging to the priory of Christ-church, within the precinct of their convent, they laid claim to them, and they made themselves absolute possessors of the whole of this island; and the monks seeing the common people much inclined to favour them, and not willing to incur theirs, left it might bring with it the people's displeasure too, made a virtue of a necessity, and after the friars had been no small time in possession, without payment of any of the accustomed rents and services, which the former tenants of the monks were bound to pay; they, by a composition made, as they phrased it, through pure motives of charity, not only remitted to them all arrears past and for the future, an abatement of the one half of the rent; on condition of their paying in full of all services and demands, for the time to come, iii shillings yearly rent. (fn. 8) How this might stand with their founder's rule, and their own vow, appears strange; for by their rule set forth articulately in Matthew Paris, they were clearly debarred, not only by their vow of poverty, but by express precept besides, from all property, either house or ground, or any kind of substance, but as pilgrims and strangers in this world, serving the Lord in poverty and humility, by going and begging alms with considence, &c.

 

These Franciscans, or Minorite friars, had granted to them by several popes, many privileges, immunities, and indulgencies; (fn. 9) besides their exemption and immunities from episcopal and other ordinary jurisdiction; in the matter of tithes they were privileged from the payment of any, either of their house, orchard, or garden, and the nutriment, i. e. the herbage or agistment of their cattle, as in the decretals; in matters of burial, they had liberam sepulturam, i. e. might chuse wheresoever any of them would his place of burial, paying the fourth part of the obventions to the parish church; and as a thing of which multitudes were ambitious, numbers of persons of high degree and estimation were desirous of living, dying, and being interred in the habit of these Franciscans, believing that whosoever was buried among them, especially if in the holy and virtuous habit of a poor friar, he should not be only happily secured from evil spirits, which might otherwise disturb the quiet of his grave, but assure to himself an entrance into the kingdom of heaven. (fn. 10)

 

There is but little further to be mentioned concerning these friars and their house, only that in king Henry VII.'s reign, this convent became one of those which were called Observants, being those who put themselves under the more strict discipline of this order, in opposition to whom, the others gained the name of Conventuals, who continued under the former relaxed state of the rules of their primitive institution, though still in general they were called Franciscan friars. (fn. 11)

 

This house was dissolved in the 25th year of king Henry VIII. anno 1534, those of this order being the first that were suppressed by him. (fn. 12) Hugh Rich was the last principal of this house.

 

As to the benefactions to this convent, it should be observed, that whoever died of any worth always remembered these friars in their wills, and in general gave liberally both to their church and convent; among others, it appears by the wills in the Prerogative-office, in Canterbury, that William Woodland, of Holy Cross parish, anno 1450, by his will gave five pounds towards the reparation of their church, and five marcs besides to the repairing of their dormitory or dortor; and Hamon Beale, a citizen, and in his time mayor of Canterbury, chusing this church for his place of burial, as Isabel his first wife had done before, gave forty shillings in money to this convent.

 

¶There were several persons of worth and estimation, as well of the clergy as laity, buried in the church of this convent, which is so entirely destroyed, that the scite of it can only be conjectured. Weever, however, has preserved some few of them. These were, Bartholomew, lord Badlesmere, steward to king Edward II.'s houshold, who was hanged for rebellion in 1321, at the gallows at the Blean, near this city; Sir Giles Badlesmere, his son; Elizabeth Domina de Chilham; Sir William Manston, Sir Roger Manston, his brother; Sir Thomas Brockhull, and the lady Joan, his wife; Sir Thomas Brockhull, their son, and lady Editha, his wife; Sir Fulk Peyforer, Sir Thomas Drayner, lady Alice de Marinis; lady Candlin; Sir Alan Pennington, of Lancashire; who died in this city; lady Audry de Valence; Sir William Trussell; Sir William Balyol; Sir Bartholomew Ashburnham, and Sir John Mottenden, a friar of this house; (fn. 13) and by the register in the Prerog. office above-mentioned, it appears, that Hamon Beal, who is mentioned above as a benefactor to this convent, and who was mayor of this city in 1464, by his will anno 1492, appointed to be buried in the middle of the nave of the church of these Friars Minors, and to have a tomb three feet high, at his executors charges, set over him and Elizabeth his wife; (fn. 14) that Thomas Barton, of Northgate, in Canterbury, by his will in 1476, ordered to be buried in the church of this house, and that a little square stone of marble set in the wall over the place where he should be buried, with images and figures of brass of his father, mother, himself, wives and children, &c. Margaret Cherche, of St. Alphage, in the nave of the church before the high cross in 1486—John Forde, of St. George's, in the north part of the church, near the altar of St. Cle ment there, in 1487—and that Richard Martyn, bishop in the universal church, by his will in 1502, ordered to be buried in the church of these Grey Friars, to whom he devised his crysmatory of silver, and parcel thereof gilt, and the case thereto belonging, and mentions the chapel of St. Saviour, in this church.— Elizabeth Master was buried in the church of these Friars in 1522; Anne Culpeper, widow of Harry Agar, esq. by her will anno 1532, ordered to be buried, if she died at Canterbury, at the Friars Observants there.

 

Weever says, that this priory was valued at that time at 39l. 12s. 8½d. per annum, but there is no valuation of it either in Dugdale or Speed. (fn. 15)

 

The scite of this priory was granted anno 31 king Henry VIII. to Thomas Spilman, (fn. 16) who levied a fine of it in the 35th year of that reign, and then alienated it to Erasmus Finch and his wife, (fn. 17) after which, I find it next in the name of Lovelace, for it appears by the escheat rolls, that William Lovelace died possessed of it in the 25th year of queen Elizabeth, holding it in capite, in which year his son, of the same name, had livery of it; (fn. 18) Sir William Lovelace resided here and died possessed of it in 1629; (fn. 19) since which it has been for many years in the possession of the family of Hartcup; the present possessor of it being Thomas Hartcup, esq.

 

A fee-farm rent of four shillings is yearly paid to the crown for this estate, by the name of the Little Friars, in Canterbury.

 

www.british-history.ac.uk/survey-kent/vol11/pp164-184

A cutting board I made in my garage-woodworking shop as a Christmas gift.

 

This one is made of hard maple, bloodwood and zebrawood.

Making cutting boards is my latest hobby. They make great gifts.

I found this odd US Navy themed cheese board at an estate sale. It says "Very Gung Ho Navy" and "2 Old Salts". I guess old salt is Navy slang for an old time seaman. I love the mid-century illustration. It almost looks like it was cut out from something and then laquered onto the wooden cheese board.

Alas this heart shaped orange shape on the hotplate of 66 113 isn't a spot of tasty Red Leicester cheese but the top of the Engineering supervisors hard hat. Many a railway hard hat has met a sticky end on class 66 hotplates as they are perfect for holding them but because of poor cab heating drivers tend to leave the cooker on to provide additional cab heat.

My cutting boards in the glue-up phase.

This was my entry to Spoonflower ditsy food challenge, available on fabric and home decor.

www.spoonflower.com/designs/13891217-sweets-what-pickles-...

Keep Calm & Cook Up A Storm

Parijs 2025

Making cutting boards is my latest hobby. They make great gifts.

Find the recipe on my site! fritesandfries.com/post/123519829196/blueberry-and-hushal...

From a little party I threw when visiting home (Indianapolis, Indiana)