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"Ich sagte dir schon, ein Afrikaner erzählt nicht jedem seine Geschichte.", sagt Yinka. "Es ist anders als in Europa, seine persönliche Geschichte ist privat. So privat wie sein Haus, seine Frau, sein Schlafzimmer.
Ein Afrikaner erzählt eine Geschichte. Wichtig ist, dass sie interessant ist. Sie stimmt meistens nicht, aber das ist nicht wichtig. So ist unsere Kultur.
Ich habe mich jetzt auf "Das Asylheim im Maisfeld 🌽🌽🌽" eingelassen und bin damit eiverstanden, meine Geschichte zu erzählen, weil ich glaube, dass es den Menschen in Europa hilft, uns besser zu verstehen.
Ich tu mir halt bisschen schwer damit, wegen meiner Erziehung, meiner Kultur. Es wäre echt hilfreich, wenn du mir einfach Fragen stellst."
Ja, das hatte er gesagt. Wir sind jetzt am Lungomare Yasser Arafat spazieren, und ich überleg grad so, mit welcher Frage ich anfangen soll. Da sind so Treppen am Wasser, lass uns da hin setzen...
"Du bist echt Shaytan! Das erste, was du mir zeigst, ist so ein Schlauchboot! Ja, ich bin mit einem Schlauchboot aus Libyen gekommen. Natürlich war es größer als das hier. Aber trotzdem viel zu klein.
Wir waren ungefähr 60 Leute auf dem Boot, ganz dicht zusammengedrängt, da war kaum Platz, sich zu bewegen.
Tagsüber brannte die Sonne auf unsere Köpfe und wir hatten schrecklich Durst. Das Wasser in den Fässern, die uns mitgegeben wurden, reichte nicht, weil die Fahrt viel länger dauerte, als wir uns ausgerechnet hatten. Wir haben das Wasser streng rationiert.
Wir hatten einen kleinen Außenbordmotor, viel Leistung brachte der nicht, aber immerhin. Die Männer in Libyen hatten uns angewiesen, wie wir nach GPS fahren sollen, aber schon nach 24 Stunden hatte das Gerät keinen Akku mehr.
Dann haben wir uns wohl verirrt. Das Benzin für den Motor war aus, und das Wasser wurde immer knapper.
Wir haben die ganze Zeit gebetet.
وَمَا تَـنۡقِمُ مِنَّاۤ اِلَّاۤ اَنۡ اٰمَنَّا بِاٰيٰتِ رَبِّنَا لَمَّا جَآءَتۡنَا ؕ رَبَّنَاۤ اَفۡرِغۡ عَلَيۡنَا صَبۡرًا وَّتَوَفَّنَا مُسۡلِمِيۡنَ﴿7:126﴾
Du grollst uns ja nur (darum), daß wir an die Zeichen unseres Herrn glaubten, als sie zu uns kamen. Unser Herr, überschütte uns mit Standhaftigkeit und berufe uns ab als (Dir) Ergebene! (Sure 7, Vers 126)
Aber Allah hat uns gerettet!
Es kam ein Tanker, die haben uns aufgefischt. Die riefen die italienische Küstenwache, und die brachten uns nach Lampedusa.
Das war 2011, Gaddafi lebte zwar noch, aber es gab jetzt auch Kämpfe bei uns in Tripolis. Ich war am überlegen, nach Nigeria zurückzugehen. Aber wie? Die bombardierten den Flughafen, es gab keine Flüge mehr. Vielleicht irgendwie nach Tunis und von dort aus...
Meine Arbeit auf der Baustelle hatte ich noch. Mein Chef sagte: Wir sind fast fertig, wir ziehen das jetzt durch bis zum Ende!
Doch eines Tages kamen bewaffnete Männer: Euch Schwarze brauchen wir hier nicht mehr!
Sie trieben uns auf einen Laster und fuhren uns aus der Stadt heraus. Wer Geld hatte, konnte mit dem Boot übers Meer nach Italien. Wer kein Geld hatte - frag mich nicht, was die mit denen gemacht haben! Man hörte ja grauenhafte Geschichten.
Ich hatte Geld. Ich hab gut verdient in Libyen, ich habe gespart, ich wollte mir ein Haus kaufen. Alles in allem hat mich die Überfahrt 12.000 € gekostet."
"I told you before, an African doesn't tell everyone his story," says Yinka. "This is different than in Europe, his personal story is private. As private as his house, his wife, his bedroom.
An African tells a story. The important thing is that it is interesting. It's usually not true, but that's not important. That's our culture.
I have now embarked on "The Asylum Home in the Cornfield 🌽🌽🌽" and have agreed to tell my story because I believe it will help people in Europe understand us better.
I just have a bit of a hard time with it because of my education and my culture. It would be really helpful if you just asked me questions."
Yes, that's what he said. We're now walking along the Lungomare Yasser Arafat and I'm just trying to figure out which question to start with. There are stairs by the water, let's sit there...
"You are really Shaytan! The first thing you show me is a rubber boat! Yes, I came from Libya in a rubber boat. Of course it was bigger than this one. But still much too small.
There were about 60 people on the boat, packed very tightly together, there was hardly any space to move.
During the day the sun beat down on our heads and we were terribly thirsty. The water in the barrels we were given wasn't enough because the journey took much longer than we had expected. We strictly rationed water.
We had a small outboard motor, it didn't produce much power, but still. The men in Libya had instructed us how to drive according to GPS, but after just 24 hours the device ran out of battery.
Then we must have lost our way. The engine ran out of petrol and water became increasingly scarce.
We prayed the whole time.
وَمَا تَـنۡقِمُ مِنَّاۤ اِلَّاۤ اَنۡ اٰمَنَّا بِاٰيٰتِ رَبِّنَا ل َمَّا جَآءَتۡنَا ؕ رَبَّنَاۤ اَفۡرِغۡ عَلَيۡنَا صَبۡرًا وَّتَوَفَََ نَا مُسۡلِمِيۡنَ﴿7:126﴾
Will you punish us just because we believed in the signs of our Lord when they came to us? Our Lord! Shower us with perseverance and cause us to die as those who have submitted [to You]. (Sura 7, verse 126)
But Allah saved us!
A tanker came and they picked us up. They called the Italian coast guard and they took us to Lampedusa.
That was in 2011, Gaddafi was still alive, but there were now also fighting at our home in Tripoli. I was thinking about going back to Nigeria. But how? They bombed the airport and there were no more flights. Maybe to get somehow to Tunis and from there...
I still had my job on the construction site. My boss said: We're almost done, we'll be going through this to the end!
But one day armed men stormed in: We don't want you black people here anymore!
They chased us on a truck and drove us out of town. Anyone who had money could take a boat across the sea to Italy. If you didn't have any money - don't ask me what they did with them! You could hear horrible stories.
I had money. I earned well in Libya, I saved up, I wanted to buy a house. All in all, the crossing cost me €12,000."
Berlin, "Municipal Baths Reloaded", Video Art and Light installations in the Lichtenberg Municipal Baths": View of the gallery of the Small Hall from one of the two staircase towers
Als Lichtenberg 1907 in den Rang einer Stadt erhoben wurde und sein erstes Rathaus besaß, plante die Stadtverwaltung auch die entsprechenden städtischen Einrichtungen wie ein Amtsgericht, ein Krankenhaus, ein Entbindungsheim, Schulen und ein Volksbad. Die Kommune erwarb ein 3800 m² großes Grundstück an der Frankfurter Allee und gründete eine Kommission für die Erbauung einer Volksbadeanstalt, besetzt mit sieben Stadtverordneten und sieben Bürgerdeputierten. Architekten lieferten sogar in der Zeit des Ersten Weltkriegs Baupläne für eine solche öffentliche Badeeinrichtung. Der erste Spatenstich erfolgte im Jahr 1919 und die Fundamente wurden gelegt. Weil Lichtenberg 1920 als Bezirk nach Groß-Berlin eingemeindet wurde und seinen Stadtstatus verlor (und sicherlich auch wegen knapper Kassen unmittelbar nach dem Krieg), wurden die Bauarbeiten eingestellt. Erst 1925, nach Überwindung der Inflation, wurde weitergebaut, nachdem die Ingenieur-Architekten Rudolf Gleye und Otto Weis die vorhandenen Pläne aktualisiert hatten. Es entstand ein mehrgliedriger kubischer Baukörper im Stil des Expressionismus mit – nach damaligen Vorstellungen – sehr modernen Ausstattungen:
Die Einweihung des Hubertusbades nahm der Berliner Oberbürgermeister Gustav Böß am 2. Februar 1928 vor. Im Zweiten Weltkrieg beschädigte eine Sprengbombe das Gebäude an der Nordwestseite, es blieb aber noch funktionstüchtig. Außerdem gingen durch die Druckwellen die meisten Scheiben zu Bruch. Das Bad wurde notdürftig repariert. Als im Zusammenhang mit der Errichtung kompletter Neubauviertel in den östlichen Stadtbezirken ab Ende der 1960er Jahre dort auch neue lichtdurchflutete Schwimmhallen entstanden, verlor das Hubertusbad seine über den Bezirk hinausgehende Bedeutung. Hinzu kam, dass nun Baumängel, die bereits seit der Fertigstellung vorhanden waren, immer gravierender wurden, 1988 musste deshalb zunächst die große Halle geschlossen werden. Grund war ein Defekt an der Wasseraufbereitungs- und Heizungsanlage, der sich nicht mehr beheben ließ. Nach dem Mauerfall und dem schrittweisen Zusammenwachsen der gesamten Stadt galten die bisherigen bundesdeutschen Vorschriften für solche Einrichtungen, Geld für Reparaturen stand nun auch nicht mehr bereit. Als 1991 die Hauptwasserzuführung kaputtging, mussten auch die kleine Halle und alle anderen Badeinrichtungen geschlossen werden. Die kleine Halle diente dann zweckentfremdet als Lagerhalle.. Im Jahr 2016 fasste der Senat von Berlin einen Entschluss, der einer Wiederbelebung des Bades einen großen Schritt näher kam: der Komplex bleibt Eigentum des Landes Berlin. Im Auftrag der Stadt kümmert sich seitdem das Unternehmen Berliner Immobilienmanagement (BIM) um Möglichkeiten der Nachnutzung.
Eine Wiederaufnahme des Badebetriebes ist wegen der hohen Investitionskosten und der Unwirtschaftlichkeit eines laufenden Betriebes nicht mehr vorgesehen. Daher soll das Stadtbad Lichtenberg sowohl Veranstaltungsort als auch Begegnungszentrum im Kiez werden. Zur langfristigen Erreichung dieses Zieles wurde ein Zwei-Stufen-Plan beschlossen und unter Beteiligung der Öffentlichkeit in einem Konkretisierungs- und Planungsworkshop vertieft: Im ersten Bauabschnitt, der Anfang des Jahres 2022 abgeschlossen war, wurden aus dem Haus mehrere Tonnen Bauschutt entfernt sowie Elektroanschlüsse und Sanitäranlagen im linken (östlichen) Gebäudeteil wieder hergerichtet. Über das Becken der ehemaligen Frauenschwimmhalle wurde ein Holzboden gezogen, auf dem seit 2022 Ausstellungen und andere Events stattfinden können. Auf diesem Parkettboden können bis zu 200 Personen platziert werden. Hier finden temporäre Veranstaltungen statt, wie die, die wir besucht haben. Sie heißt "Stadtbad Reloaded" und führt die Gäste auf einen spannenden Rundgang durch das Haus, welches mit beeindruckenden Lichtinstallationen und über 157 digitalen Kunstwerken in allen Ecken wieder zum Leben erwacht.
Quelle: Überwiegend Wikipedia
When Lichtenberg was elevated to the status of a town in 1907 and had its first town hall, the town council also planned the corresponding municipal facilities such as a district court, a hospital, a maternity home, schools and a public swimming pool. The municipality acquired a 3,800 square metre plot of land on Frankfurter Allee and set up a commission for the construction of a public baths, consisting of seven city councillors and seven citizen deputies. Architects even provided construction plans for such a public bathing facility during the First World War. The ground-breaking ceremony took place in 1919 and the foundations were laid. Because Lichtenberg was incorporated into Greater Berlin as a borough in 1920 and lost its city status (and no doubt also due to a shortage of funds immediately after the war), construction work was halted. It was not until 1925, after the inflation had been overcome, that building work resumed after the engineer-architects Rudolf Gleye and Otto Weis had updated the existing plans. The result was a multi-storey cubic building in the Expressionist style with - according to the ideas of the time - very modern fixtures and fittings. The Hubertusbad was inaugurated by the Lord Mayor of Berlin, Gustav Böß, on 2 February 1928. During the Second World War, a high-explosive bomb damaged the building on the north-west side, but it remained functional. Most of the windows were also broken by the blast waves. The baths were provisionally repaired. When new, light-flooded swimming pools were built in the eastern boroughs at the end of the 1960s in connection with the construction of entire new neighbourhoods, the Hubertus Baths lost its importance beyond the borough. In addition, construction defects, which had been present since completion, became increasingly serious, and in 1988 the large hall had to be closed. The reason was a defect in the water treatment and heating system that could no longer be repaired.
After the fall of the Berlin Wall and the gradual merging of the entire city, the regulations for such facilities in vigour in West Germany applied and there was no longer any money available for repairs. When the main water supply broke in 1991, the small hall and all other bathing facilities had to be closed. The small hall was then misused as a warehouse. In 2016, the Berlin Senate took a decision that brought the revitalisation of the baths a big step closer: the complex remains property of the state of Berlin. Since then, the Berlin Real Estate Management Administration (BIM) has been working on behalf of the city to find ways to reutilise the site. Due to the high investment costs and the inefficiency of the operation of the pools, it is no longer planned to resume bathing activities. The Lichtenberg Municipal Baths are therefore to become both a venue for events and a meeting centre in the neighbourhood. In order to achieve this goal in the long term, a two-stage plan was adopted and further developed with the participation of the public in a concretisation and planning workshop:
In the first construction phase, which was completed at the beginning of 2022, several tonnes of rubble were removed from the building and electrical connections and sanitary facilities were restored in the left-hand (eastern) part of the building. A wooden floor was laid over the pool of the former women's swimming pool, which has been used for exhibitions and other events since 2022. Up to 200 people can be seated on this parquet floor. Temporary events take place here, like the one we visited. It is called ‘Municipal Baths Reloaded’ and takes guests on an exciting tour of the building, which comes back to life with impressive light installations and over 157 digital artworks in every corner.
Source: Mainly Wikipedia
Berlin, "Municipal Baths Reloaded", Video Art and Light installations in the Lichtenberg Municipal Baths": Pool in the Great Hall with a light sound installation, looking from the gallery
Als Lichtenberg 1907 in den Rang einer Stadt erhoben wurde und sein erstes Rathaus besaß, plante die Stadtverwaltung auch die entsprechenden städtischen Einrichtungen wie ein Amtsgericht, ein Krankenhaus, ein Entbindungsheim, Schulen und ein Volksbad. Die Kommune erwarb ein 3800 m² großes Grundstück an der Frankfurter Allee und gründete eine Kommission für die Erbauung einer Volksbadeanstalt, besetzt mit sieben Stadtverordneten und sieben Bürgerdeputierten. Architekten lieferten sogar in der Zeit des Ersten Weltkriegs Baupläne für eine solche öffentliche Badeeinrichtung. Der erste Spatenstich erfolgte im Jahr 1919 und die Fundamente wurden gelegt. Weil Lichtenberg 1920 als Bezirk nach Groß-Berlin eingemeindet wurde und seinen Stadtstatus verlor (und sicherlich auch wegen knapper Kassen unmittelbar nach dem Krieg), wurden die Bauarbeiten eingestellt. Erst 1925, nach Überwindung der Inflation, wurde weitergebaut, nachdem die Ingenieur-Architekten Rudolf Gleye und Otto Weis die vorhandenen Pläne aktualisiert hatten. Es entstand ein mehrgliedriger kubischer Baukörper im Stil des Expressionismus mit – nach damaligen Vorstellungen – sehr modernen Ausstattungen:
Die Einweihung des Hubertusbades nahm der Berliner Oberbürgermeister Gustav Böß am 2. Februar 1928 vor. Im Zweiten Weltkrieg beschädigte eine Sprengbombe das Gebäude an der Nordwestseite, es blieb aber noch funktionstüchtig. Außerdem gingen durch die Druckwellen die meisten Scheiben zu Bruch. Das Bad wurde notdürftig repariert. Als im Zusammenhang mit der Errichtung kompletter Neubauviertel in den östlichen Stadtbezirken ab Ende der 1960er Jahre dort auch neue lichtdurchflutete Schwimmhallen entstanden, verlor das Hubertusbad seine über den Bezirk hinausgehende Bedeutung. Hinzu kam, dass nun Baumängel, die bereits seit der Fertigstellung vorhanden waren, immer gravierender wurden, 1988 musste deshalb zunächst die große Halle geschlossen werden. Grund war ein Defekt an der Wasseraufbereitungs- und Heizungsanlage, der sich nicht mehr beheben ließ. Nach dem Mauerfall und dem schrittweisen Zusammenwachsen der gesamten Stadt galten die bisherigen bundesdeutschen Vorschriften für solche Einrichtungen, Geld für Reparaturen stand nun auch nicht mehr bereit. Als 1991 die Hauptwasserzuführung kaputtging, mussten auch die kleine Halle und alle anderen Badeinrichtungen geschlossen werden. Die kleine Halle diente dann zweckentfremdet als Lagerhalle.. Im Jahr 2016 fasste der Senat von Berlin einen Entschluss, der einer Wiederbelebung des Bades einen großen Schritt näher kam: der Komplex bleibt Eigentum des Landes Berlin. Im Auftrag der Stadt kümmert sich seitdem das Unternehmen Berliner Immobilienmanagement (BIM) um Möglichkeiten der Nachnutzung.
Eine Wiederaufnahme des Badebetriebes ist wegen der hohen Investitionskosten und der Unwirtschaftlichkeit eines laufenden Betriebes nicht mehr vorgesehen. Daher soll das Stadtbad Lichtenberg sowohl Veranstaltungsort als auch Begegnungszentrum im Kiez werden. Zur langfristigen Erreichung dieses Zieles wurde ein Zwei-Stufen-Plan beschlossen und unter Beteiligung der Öffentlichkeit in einem Konkretisierungs- und Planungsworkshop vertieft: Im ersten Bauabschnitt, der Anfang des Jahres 2022 abgeschlossen war, wurden aus dem Haus mehrere Tonnen Bauschutt entfernt sowie Elektroanschlüsse und Sanitäranlagen im linken (östlichen) Gebäudeteil wieder hergerichtet. Über das Becken der ehemaligen Frauenschwimmhalle wurde ein Holzboden gezogen, auf dem seit 2022 Ausstellungen und andere Events stattfinden können. Auf diesem Parkettboden können bis zu 200 Personen platziert werden. Hier finden temporäre Veranstaltungen statt, wie die, die wir besucht haben. Sie heißt "Stadtbad Reloaded" und führt die Gäste auf einen spannenden Rundgang durch das Haus, welches mit beeindruckenden Lichtinstallationen und über 157 digitalen Kunstwerken in allen Ecken wieder zum Leben erwacht.
Quelle: Überwiegend Wikipedia
When Lichtenberg was elevated to the status of a town in 1907 and had its first town hall, the town council also planned the corresponding municipal facilities such as a district court, a hospital, a maternity home, schools and a public swimming pool. The municipality acquired a 3,800 square metre plot of land on Frankfurter Allee and set up a commission for the construction of a public baths, consisting of seven city councillors and seven citizen deputies. Architects even provided construction plans for such a public bathing facility during the First World War. The ground-breaking ceremony took place in 1919 and the foundations were laid. Because Lichtenberg was incorporated into Greater Berlin as a borough in 1920 and lost its city status (and no doubt also due to a shortage of funds immediately after the war), construction work was halted. It was not until 1925, after the inflation had been overcome, that building work resumed after the engineer-architects Rudolf Gleye and Otto Weis had updated the existing plans. The result was a multi-storey cubic building in the Expressionist style with - according to the ideas of the time - very modern fixtures and fittings. The Hubertusbad was inaugurated by the Lord Mayor of Berlin, Gustav Böß, on 2 February 1928. During the Second World War, a high-explosive bomb damaged the building on the north-west side, but it remained functional. Most of the windows were also broken by the blast waves. The baths were provisionally repaired. When new, light-flooded swimming pools were built in the eastern boroughs at the end of the 1960s in connection with the construction of entire new neighbourhoods, the Hubertus Baths lost its importance beyond the borough. In addition, construction defects, which had been present since completion, became increasingly serious, and in 1988 the large hall had to be closed. The reason was a defect in the water treatment and heating system that could no longer be repaired.
After the fall of the Berlin Wall and the gradual merging of the entire city, the regulations for such facilities in vigour in West Germany applied and there was no longer any money available for repairs. When the main water supply broke in 1991, the small hall and all other bathing facilities had to be closed. The small hall was then misused as a warehouse. In 2016, the Berlin Senate took a decision that brought the revitalisation of the baths a big step closer: the complex remains property of the state of Berlin. Since then, the Berlin Real Estate Management Administration (BIM) has been working on behalf of the city to find ways to reutilise the site. Due to the high investment costs and the inefficiency of the operation of the pools, it is no longer planned to resume bathing activities. The Lichtenberg Municipal Baths are therefore to become both a venue for events and a meeting centre in the neighbourhood. In order to achieve this goal in the long term, a two-stage plan was adopted and further developed with the participation of the public in a concretisation and planning workshop:
In the first construction phase, which was completed at the beginning of 2022, several tonnes of rubble were removed from the building and electrical connections and sanitary facilities were restored in the left-hand (eastern) part of the building. A wooden floor was laid over the pool of the former women's swimming pool, which has been used for exhibitions and other events since 2022. Up to 200 people can be seated on this parquet floor. Temporary events take place here, like the one we visited. It is called ‘Municipal Baths Reloaded’ and takes guests on an exciting tour of the building, which comes back to life with impressive light installations and over 157 digital artworks in every corner.
Source: Mainly Wikipedia
Flint from the Pennsylvanian of Ohio, USA. (cut surface; ~11.9 centimeters across at its widest)
Flint is the "official" state gemstone of Ohio (actually, there's no such thing as "official" anything). "Flint" is sometimes used as a lithologic term by modern geologists, but it is a synonym for chert. Flint and chert are the same - they are cryptocrystalline, quartzose sedimentary rocks. Rockhounds often assert that flint is high-quality while chert is low-quality. Some geologists assert that "flint" implies a biogenic origin and "chert" implies a chemical origin.
Many cherts do have a chemical origin - chert nodules are moderately common in some limestone units. The nodules form during diagenesis - pre-existing silica components in the carbonate sediments are dissolved, mobilized, and reprecipitated as chert masses. Some cherts do have a biogenic origin - for example, radiolarian cherts (rich in radiolarian microfossils) or spicular cherts (rich in siliceous sponge spicules).
The most famous flint deposit in Ohio is Flint Ridge, in Licking County. At this locality, the Middle Pennsylvanian-aged Vanport Flint is exposed in several places. The geologic literature on the Vanport Flint is relatively sparse, with inaccurate, incomplete descriptions and characterizations. For example, the literature describes the Vanport as a sheet of flint at Flint Ridge - it's actually a meganodule horizon. Other descriptions refer to the chert as the remains of siliceous sponges. In reality, siliceous sponge spicules are quite scarce in Vanport samples.
Two graduate student projects during the 2000s, conducted at two different universities, had very different conclusions & interpretations about the origin of the Vanport Flint. A 2003 study concluded that chert at Flint Ridge is biogenic in origin. A 2006 study concluded that the chert is chemical in origin. Some Pennsylvanian-aged cherts in eastern America are inferred to be ultimately derived from quartzose eolian dust on seafloors.
Modern flint knappers value the Vanport Flint for being multicolored and high-quality (= very few impurities). With artificial heating, the flint is more easily knapped into arrowheads, spear points, and other objects. Prehistoric American Indians quarried the Vanport Flint at many specific sites on Flint Ridge. Old Indian flint pits can be examined along hiking trails in Flint Ridge State Park. Many authentic Indian artifacts found in Ohio (arrowheads & spearpoints - "projectile points") are composed of Vanport Flint.
This specimen includes some irregularly-shaped vugs that have been filled with slightly bluish-gray chalcedony and megaquartz (= visible quartz crystals in a chert). Near the bottom is a wedge-shaped feature defined by two thin fractures with preferentially stained flint between. The dark yellowish and reddish coloration in the sample is from iron oxide(s).
Stratigraphy: Vanport Flint, Allegheny Group, upper Middle Pennsylvanian
Locality: Nethers Flint Quarries - flint pits in the woods on the southwestern side of Flint Ridge Road, eastern Flint Ridge, far-western Muskingum County, east-central Ohio, USA (vicinity of 40° 00.137’ North latitude, 82° 11.544’ West longitude)
Wie kent de stroopwafel niet? Iedereen heeft wel eens zijn tanden gezet in deze Goudse koek, waarvan de originele benaming eigenlijk siroopwafel is. De siroopwafel is uitgevonden voor de armen die zich geen duurdere koek konden veroorloven.
Het oudst teruggevonden recept in Gouda dateert van begin 19e eeuw. In Gouda kun je de stroopwafel in alle soorten en maten proeven. Van de knapperige Kamphuisen siroopwafels tot superwafels van Markus en van het alom bekende Punselie’s stroopkoekje tot de Van Vliet siroopwafel van Berg’s Bakery.
Flint-knapped spearpoint ("Nellie Blue Flint") from the Pennsylvanian of Ohio, USA. (~9.3 centimeters tall; modern replica)
"Flint" is the official gemstone of Ohio. Flint is actually chert (the two terms are synonymous, despite what anyone else might say), a cryptocrystalline, quartzose sedimentary rock. High-quality, colorful, multicolored, and multipatterned flint is moderately common at some Ohio localities. A couple famous flint occurrences in east-central Ohio include the Vanport Flint at Flint Ridge and Nellie Blue Flint in Coshocton County.
Nellie Blue Flint is essentially restricted to the Nellie area of northwestern Coshocton County. It consists of attractive, frequently complexly-patterned, dark bluish to bluish-black chert. Fractures and cavities (vugs) are often present and have been filled or nearly filled with pale bluish-gray chalcedony and/or megaquartz (= visible hexagonal quartz crystals). Body fossils and trace fossils can be present.
Nellie Blue is a local color variant of the Upper Mercer Flint, which is usually a black flint with whitish speckles (= often body fossils and fossil fragments). The Upper Mercer Flint is a somewhat persistent horizon of chertified marine fossiliferous limestone in east-central and eastern Ohio called the Upper Mercer Limestone.
Flint knappers often call this material "Coshocton Flint".
Stratigraphy: Upper Mercer Flint (= chertified Upper Mercer Limestone), upper Bedford Cyclothem, upper Pottsville Group, Atokan Series, lower Middle Pennsylvanian
Locality: undisclosed site about halfway between the towns of Warsaw and Nellie, northwestern Coshocton County, east-central Ohio, USA
Wild Card: Christopher Matthews / formed view - my body’s an exhibition
Choreographer and performance artist Christopher Matthews curates my body’s an exhibition at Sadler’s Wells on 25, 26 June 2021. In this immersive event, multidisciplinary installations are scattered throughout the building in the foyers, studios, stages and backstage spaces, and explore themes of gender, class structure, intersections of the classical and contemporary, icon vs self and pop culture.
my body’s an exhibition presents over 22 works by international performance makers and artists in the form of video, photography, collage, sound, light, text and live movement installations.
photo © Foteini Christofilopoulou | All rights reserved | For all usage/licensing enquiries please contact www.foteini.com
Berlin, "Municipal Baths Reloaded", Video art and light installations in the Lichtenberg Municipal Baths: View through the glazing of the edge of the pool cover in the Small Hall to an access steps and a video shown there
Als Lichtenberg 1907 in den Rang einer Stadt erhoben wurde und sein erstes Rathaus besaß, plante die Stadtverwaltung auch die entsprechenden städtischen Einrichtungen wie ein Amtsgericht, ein Krankenhaus, ein Entbindungsheim, Schulen und ein Volksbad. Die Kommune erwarb ein 3800 m² großes Grundstück an der Frankfurter Allee und gründete eine Kommission für die Erbauung einer Volksbadeanstalt, besetzt mit sieben Stadtverordneten und sieben Bürgerdeputierten. Architekten lieferten sogar in der Zeit des Ersten Weltkriegs Baupläne für eine solche öffentliche Badeeinrichtung. Der erste Spatenstich erfolgte im Jahr 1919 und die Fundamente wurden gelegt. Weil Lichtenberg 1920 als Bezirk nach Groß-Berlin eingemeindet wurde und seinen Stadtstatus verlor (und sicherlich auch wegen knapper Kassen unmittelbar nach dem Krieg), wurden die Bauarbeiten eingestellt. Erst 1925, nach Überwindung der Inflation, wurde weitergebaut, nachdem die Ingenieur-Architekten Rudolf Gleye und Otto Weis die vorhandenen Pläne aktualisiert hatten. Es entstand ein mehrgliedriger kubischer Baukörper im Stil des Expressionismus mit – nach damaligen Vorstellungen – sehr modernen Ausstattungen:
Die Einweihung des Hubertusbades nahm der Berliner Oberbürgermeister Gustav Böß am 2. Februar 1928 vor. Im Zweiten Weltkrieg beschädigte eine Sprengbombe das Gebäude an der Nordwestseite, es blieb aber noch funktionstüchtig. Außerdem gingen durch die Druckwellen die meisten Scheiben zu Bruch. Das Bad wurde notdürftig repariert. Als im Zusammenhang mit der Errichtung kompletter Neubauviertel in den östlichen Stadtbezirken ab Ende der 1960er Jahre dort auch neue lichtdurchflutete Schwimmhallen entstanden, verlor das Hubertusbad seine über den Bezirk hinausgehende Bedeutung. Hinzu kam, dass nun Baumängel, die bereits seit der Fertigstellung vorhanden waren, immer gravierender wurden, 1988 musste deshalb zunächst die große Halle geschlossen werden. Grund war ein Defekt an der Wasseraufbereitungs- und Heizungsanlage, der sich nicht mehr beheben ließ. Nach dem Mauerfall und dem schrittweisen Zusammenwachsen der gesamten Stadt galten die bisherigen bundesdeutschen Vorschriften für solche Einrichtungen, Geld für Reparaturen stand nun auch nicht mehr bereit. Als 1991 die Hauptwasserzuführung kaputtging, mussten auch die kleine Halle und alle anderen Badeinrichtungen geschlossen werden. Die kleine Halle diente dann zweckentfremdet als Lagerhalle.. Im Jahr 2016 fasste der Senat von Berlin einen Entschluss, der einer Wiederbelebung des Bades einen großen Schritt näher kam: der Komplex bleibt Eigentum des Landes Berlin. Im Auftrag der Stadt kümmert sich seitdem das Unternehmen Berliner Immobilienmanagement (BIM) um Möglichkeiten der Nachnutzung.
Eine Wiederaufnahme des Badebetriebes ist wegen der hohen Investitionskosten und der Unwirtschaftlichkeit eines laufenden Betriebes nicht mehr vorgesehen. Daher soll das Stadtbad Lichtenberg sowohl Veranstaltungsort als auch Begegnungszentrum im Kiez werden. Zur langfristigen Erreichung dieses Zieles wurde ein Zwei-Stufen-Plan beschlossen und unter Beteiligung der Öffentlichkeit in einem Konkretisierungs- und Planungsworkshop vertieft: Im ersten Bauabschnitt, der Anfang des Jahres 2022 abgeschlossen war, wurden aus dem Haus mehrere Tonnen Bauschutt entfernt sowie Elektroanschlüsse und Sanitäranlagen im linken (östlichen) Gebäudeteil wieder hergerichtet. Über das Becken der ehemaligen Frauenschwimmhalle wurde ein Holzboden gezogen, auf dem seit 2022 Ausstellungen und andere Events stattfinden können. Auf diesem Parkettboden können bis zu 200 Personen platziert werden. Hier finden temporäre Veranstaltungen statt, wie die, die wir besucht haben. Sie heißt "Stadtbad Reloaded" und führt die Gäste auf einen spannenden Rundgang durch das Haus, welches mit beeindruckenden Lichtinstallationen und über 157 digitalen Kunstwerken in allen Ecken wieder zum Leben erwacht.
Quelle: Überwiegend Wikipedia
When Lichtenberg was elevated to the status of a town in 1907 and had its first town hall, the town council also planned the corresponding municipal facilities such as a district court, a hospital, a maternity home, schools and a public swimming pool. The municipality acquired a 3,800 square metre plot of land on Frankfurter Allee and set up a commission for the construction of a public baths, consisting of seven city councillors and seven citizen deputies. Architects even provided construction plans for such a public bathing facility during the First World War. The ground-breaking ceremony took place in 1919 and the foundations were laid. Because Lichtenberg was incorporated into Greater Berlin as a borough in 1920 and lost its city status (and no doubt also due to a shortage of funds immediately after the war), construction work was halted. It was not until 1925, after the inflation had been overcome, that building work resumed after the engineer-architects Rudolf Gleye and Otto Weis had updated the existing plans. The result was a multi-storey cubic building in the Expressionist style with - according to the ideas of the time - very modern fixtures and fittings. The Hubertusbad was inaugurated by the Lord Mayor of Berlin, Gustav Böß, on 2 February 1928. During the Second World War, a high-explosive bomb damaged the building on the north-west side, but it remained functional. Most of the windows were also broken by the blast waves. The baths were provisionally repaired. When new, light-flooded swimming pools were built in the eastern boroughs at the end of the 1960s in connection with the construction of entire new neighbourhoods, the Hubertus Baths lost its importance beyond the borough. In addition, construction defects, which had been present since completion, became increasingly serious, and in 1988 the large hall had to be closed. The reason was a defect in the water treatment and heating system that could no longer be repaired.
After the fall of the Berlin Wall and the gradual merging of the entire city, the regulations for such facilities in vigour in West Germany applied and there was no longer any money available for repairs. When the main water supply broke in 1991, the small hall and all other bathing facilities had to be closed. The small hall was then misused as a warehouse. In 2016, the Berlin Senate took a decision that brought the revitalisation of the baths a big step closer: the complex remains property of the state of Berlin. Since then, the Berlin Real Estate Management Administration (BIM) has been working on behalf of the city to find ways to reutilise the site. Due to the high investment costs and the inefficiency of the operation of the pools, it is no longer planned to resume bathing activities. The Lichtenberg Municipal Baths are therefore to become both a venue for events and a meeting centre in the neighbourhood. In order to achieve this goal in the long term, a two-stage plan was adopted and further developed with the participation of the public in a concretisation and planning workshop:
In the first construction phase, which was completed at the beginning of 2022, several tonnes of rubble were removed from the building and electrical connections and sanitary facilities were restored in the left-hand (eastern) part of the building. A wooden floor was laid over the pool of the former women's swimming pool, which has been used for exhibitions and other events since 2022. Up to 200 people can be seated on this parquet floor. Temporary events take place here, like the one we visited. It is called ‘Municipal Baths Reloaded’ and takes guests on an exciting tour of the building, which comes back to life with impressive light installations and over 157 digital artworks in every corner.
Source: Mainly Wikipedia
Flint-knapped arrowhead.
Flint is the "official" state gemstone of Ohio (actually, there's no such thing as "official" anything). "Flint" is sometimes used as a lithologic term by modern geologists, but it is a synonym for chert. Flint and chert are the same - they are cryptocrystalline, quartzose sedimentary rocks. Rockhounds often assert that flint is high-quality while chert is low-quality. Some geologists assert that "flint" implies a biogenic origin and "chert" implies a chemical origin.
Many cherts do have a chemical origin - chert nodules are moderately common in some limestone units. The nodules form during diagenesis - pre-existing silica components in the carbonate sediments are dissolved, mobilized, and reprecipitated as chert masses. Some cherts do have a biogenic origin - for example, radiolarian cherts (rich in radiolarian microfossils) or spicular cherts (rich in siliceous sponge spicules).
The most famous flint deposit in Ohio is Flint Ridge, in Licking County. At this locality, the Middle Pennsylvanian-aged Vanport Flint is exposed in several places. The geologic literature on the Vanport Flint is relatively sparse, with inaccurate, incomplete descriptions and characterizations. For example, the literature describes the Vanport as a sheet of flint at Flint Ridge - it's actually a meganodule horizon. Other descriptions refer to the chert as the remains of siliceous sponges. In reality, siliceous sponge spicules are quite scarce in Vanport samples.
The arrowhead seen here is a modern replica. I suspect that the material is Vanport Flint from Nethers Flint Quarries, at the eastern end of Flint Ridge.
I was asked a few weeks back, if I fancied meeting up with friends, Simon and Cam for a few bears and a crawl round Ipswich.
Seemed a great idea, but checking Network Rain this week, I found that there were replacement buses out of Liverpool Street to Whitham and out of Cambridge. The first added an hour to the trip to Ipswich, the second, 90 minutes.
Jools said she would enjoy a trip out and a walk around Manningtree, so we could go in the car, I would drive up, she would drive back, and we would both have some exercise and I would meet friends.
Perfect.
Although we had planned to go to Tesco first, in the end we had breakfast and set off at half seven, eager to get some miles under our belts before traffic really built at Dartford.
Up the A2 in bright sunshine, it was a great day for travel, but also I thought it might have been good for checking out orchid woods back home. But a change is always good, and it has been nearly 9 years since Simon invited me for a tour round historic Ipswich, showing there was almost as much history there than in Norwich to the north.
Into Essex before nine, and arriving in Ipswich before ten, we decided to find somewhere for breakfast first before going our separate ways.
A large breakfast later, we split up, and I went to wander north to St Margaret's church, which I had been into on that trip 9 years back, but my shots not so good.
I found many interesting places in-between the modern buildings and urban sprawl, timber framed houses, Tudor brick and much more beside.
Sadly, St Margaret was locked. I could see the notice on the porch door, so I didn't go up to see what it said.
I wandered back, found St Mary le Tower open, so went in and took over a hundred shots, soaking in the fine Victorian glass and carved bench ends, even if they were 19th century and not older.
In the south chapel, a group were talking quietly, so I tried not to disturb them, only realising how loud the shutter on the camera was.
The font took my eye first, as it is a well preserved one from the 15th century. Though these are common in East Anglia, not so in deepest Kent, so I snapped it from all directions, recording each mark of the carver's tools.
The clocked ticked round to midday, and so I made my way to the quayside where I was to meet my friends.
Simon lives in Ipswich, but Cam and David had come down on the train from the Fine City. We met at the Briarbank Brewery Tap where I had a couple of mocha porters, which were very nice indeed.
From there we went to the Dove where we had two more beers as well as lunch.
And finally a walk to The Spread Eagle for one final beer before I walked back to Portman Road to meet Jools at the car.
Jools drove us back to the A12, and pointed the car south. As we drove, dusk fell and rain began to fall. Not very pleasant. But at least traffic was light, so in an hour we were on the M25 and twenty minutes later over the river and back in Kent.
Rain fell steadily as we cruised down the M20, past the familiar landmarks until we were back in Dover. Where we had to make a pit stop at M and S, as we needed supplies, and something for supper.
Not sure that garlic bread and wine counts as a meal, but did for us, so at half nine, we climbed the hill to bed.
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Ipswich is the county town of Suffolk, and is also probably the longest continuously occupied town in England. Here on the River Gipping, in the south of the Anglo-Saxon kingdom of East Anglia, a number of 7th Century industrial villages grew together, and since then Ipswich has always been an industrial and commercial town, processing the produce of the land round about, and exporting it up the River Orwell to other parts of England and the continent. It was wealthy in the late medieval period, but it suffered from being cut off from its European markets by the outfall from the Reformation. A strongly puritan town in the 17th Century, a quiet backwater in the 18th Century, it was not until the Industrial Revolution that it rose to commercial prominence again, with heavy industry producing agricultural machinery, vehicles and other ironwork. It would continue to be important industrially until the 1980s, but then most of the factories closed, and the town has not yet recovered.
The townscape is punctuated by church towers and spires, for Ipswich has twelve surviving medieval churches. Remarkably, six of them are still in use, and of these St Mary le Tower is the biggest and most prominent. Its spire rises sixty metres above the rooftops, making it the second tallest building in the town after the Mill apartment block on the Waterfront. There was a church here in 1200, when the Borough of Ipswich came into being in the churchyard by the declaration of the granting of a charter. The medieval church had a spire until it came down in the hurricane of 1661. When the Diocese of Norwich oversaw the restoration of the church in the mid-19th Century the decision was taken for a complete rebuild in stone on the same site. It is almost entirely the work of diocesan surveyor Richard Phipson, who worked on it over a period of twenty years in the 1850s and 1860s, including replacing the spire, and so this is East Anglia's urban Victorian church par excellence. The rebuilding was bankrolled by the wealthy local Bacon banking family. It is a large church, built more or less on the plan of its predecessor, full of the spirit of its age. One could no more imagine Ipswich without the Tower than without the Orwell Bridge.
The length of the church splits the churchyard into two quite separate parts, the south side a public space, the walled north side atmospheric and secretive. The large cross to the south-west of the tower is not a war memorial. It remembers John Patteson, Bishop of Melanesia, murdered by some of his flock in the 1870s. Treated as a martyr by the press of the day, Patteson appears to have had no local connection, but the Pattesons had intermarried with the Cobbolds, an important local family, and Patteson Road by Ipswich docks also remembers him. There never was a north door, and the west doors are beautiful and liturgically correct but perhaps not useful, since they are below street level and the path merely leads round to the south, allowing processions but no access from Tower Street. The flushwork is exuberant, and makes you think that being a flint-knapper must have been a good living in the 1860s. As with the medieval predecessor, the entrance is through the tower which forms a porch on the south side, in common with about thirty other East Anglian churches. Until the 1860s there was a further castellated porch on the south side of the tower, something in the style of the Hadleigh Deanery tower, but this was removed. You can see it in as photograph at the top of this page. And looking at this photograph, it is hard not to think that Phipson retained at least part of the lower stage of the tower.
There is a small statue of the church's patron saint in the niche above the entrance, by the sculptor Richard Pfeiffer. Away to the east, the same sculptor produced St John the Evangelist and St Mary of Magdala on the end of the chancel, and there is more of his work inside. You step into the tower porch under vaulting. A small door in the north-east corner leads up into the ringing chamber and beyond that the belfry, with a ring of twelve bells. The south doorway into the church has stops representing the Annunciation, with the angel to the west, and Mary at her prayer desk to the east. As part of a Millennium project this doorway was painted and gilded. It leads through into the south aisle, beyond which the wide nave seems to swallow all sound, a powerful transition from the outside. Polished wood and tile gleam under coloured light from large windows filled with 19th Century glass. At one time the walls were stencilled, but this was removed in the 1960s. The former church was dark and serious inside, as a drawing in the north aisle shows, so it must have made quite a contrast when the townspeople first entered their new church.
The font by the doorway is the first of a number of significant survivals from the old church. It's one of the 15th Century East Anglian series of which several hundred survive, all slightly different. It is in good condition, and you can't help thinking that this is ironically because Ipswich was a town which embraced protestantism whole-heartedly after the Reformation, and it is likely that the font was plastered over in the mid-16th Century to make it plain and simple. The lions around the pillar stand on human heads, and there are more heads beneath the bowl. The next survival that comes into view is the pair of 15th Century benches at the west end of the nave. The bench ends are clerics holding books, and above them memorable finials depicting two lions, a dragon and what might be a cat or a dog.
The box pews were removed as part of Phipson's restoration and replaced with high quality benches. The front row are the Borough Corporation seats, a mace rest and a sword rest in front of them. The carvings on the ends of the benches are seahorses, the creatures that hold the shield on the Ipswich Borough arms, and on the finials in front are lions holding ships, the crest of the Borough. As you might expect in Ipswich these are by Henry Ringham, whose church carving was always of a high quality, and is perhaps best known at Woolpit and Combs. His workshop on St John's Road employed fifty people at the time of the 1861 census, but by the following year he was bankrupt, and so the work here is likely some of the last that he produced. He died in 1866, and Ringham Road in East Ipswich remembers him.
Moving into the chancel, the other major survival is a collection of late 15th and early 16th Century brasses. Altogether there are ten large figures, but in fact some of them represent the same person more than once. The most memorable is probably that of Alys Baldry, who died in 1507. She lies between her two husbands. The first, Robert Wimbill, is on the right. He died in about 1477. He was a notary, and his ink pot and pen case hang from his belt. Her second husband, Thomas Baldry, is on the left. He died in 1525. He was a merchant, and his merchant mark is set beneath his feet next to Alys's five daughters and four sons.
Alys Baldry, Robert Wimbill and Thomas Baldry are all depicted in further brasses here. The best of these is that to Robert. It was commissioned by his will in the 1470s. He lies on his own with a Latin inscription which translates as 'My hope lies in my heart. Holy Trinity, one God, have mercy on me.' His ink pot and pen case hang from his belt again, and between his feet are a skull and scattered bones, an early memento mori. Thomas Baldry's own brass memorial shows him lying between his two wives, Alys who we have already met, and his second wife Christian. The other group of three figures depicts Thomas Drayll, a merchant, with his wives Margaret and Agnes. Thomas died in 1512. The arms of the Cinque Ports are set above him, and a large merchant mark is beneath his feet. Several inscriptions are missing, and we know that when the iconoclast William Dowsing visited the church on 29th Janary 1644 he ordered the removal of six brass inscriptions with Ora pro nobis ('pray for us') and Ora pro animabus ('pray for our souls'), and Cujus animae propitietur deus ('on whose soul may God have mercy') and pray for the soul in English.
The spectacular sanctuary with its imposing reredos, piscina and sedilia was clearly designed for shadowy, incense-led worship. A lush Arts and Crafts crucifixion surmounts the altar. East Anglian saints flank the walls. James Bettley, revising the Buildings of England volume for East Suffolk, records that it was the work of Somers, Clarke & Micklethwaite in the 1880s. The chancel is only lit from the east window, emphasising the focus from the rest of the church. The set of twelve apostles and twelve angels on the choir stalls are also by Pfeiffer. You can see his signature on the back of St Luke's icon of the Blessed Virgin. This sanctuary is the ultimate expression of late 19th Century Tractarianism in Suffolk. Back in the nave, the early 18th Century pulpit speaks of a different liturgical age, when this church was a preaching house rather than a sacramental space. James Bettley credits its carving to James Hubbard, and notes its similarity to that in the Unitarian Meeting House a few hundred yards off. The 19th Century screen that stood in the chancel arch and separated these two liturgical ages was moved to the east end of the north aisle as an organ screen some time in the 20th Century.
Another screen separates off the Lady Chapel from the south aisle and the chancel. The chapel is a pleasing period piece, furnished sentimentally. The reredos, by Arthur Wallace in 1907, depicts the Supper at Emmaus flanked by Moses and Elijah in an echo of the Transfiguration. The early 20th Century paintings on the south wall are lovely, especially the infant Christ as he plays at the feet of St Joseph. But the overwhelming atmosphere of this church comes from its extensive range of 19th Century glass, the largest collection in Suffolk. It provides a catalogue of some of the major 19th Century workshops over a fairly short period, from the 1850s to the 1880s. Much of it is by Clayton & Bell, who probably received the commission for east and west windows and south aisle as part of Phipson's rebuilding contract. Other major workshops include those of William Wailes, the O'Connors and Lavers, Barraud & Westlake. A small amount of 1840s glass in the north aisle was reset here from the previous church. There are photographs of the glass at the bottom of this page.
As was common in major 19th Century restorations, the memorials that once flanked the walls were collected together and reset at the west end of the nave. At St Mary le Tower this was a major task, for there are a lot of them. The most famous is that to William Smart, MP for Ipswich in the late 16th Century. It is painted on boards. His inscription is a long acrostic, and he kneels at the bottom opposite his wife. between them is a panoramic view of the Ipswich townscape as it was in 1599, the year that he died, a remarkable snapshot of the past. Other memorials include those of the 17th Century when Ipswich was the heartland of firebrand protestant East Anglia. Matthew Lawrence, who died in 1653, was the publike preacher of this towne. There are more memorials in the north chancel aisle, now divided up as vestries. The best of these is to John and Elizabeth Robinson. He died in 1666. They kneel at their prayer desks, and below them are their children Thomas, John, Mary and Elizabeth, who all predeceased their mother. Also here are memorials to a number of the Cobbold family, who were not only important locally but even provided ministers for this church.
There are more Cobbold memorials in the nave, including one in glass at the west end of the north aisle. It is dedicated to Lucy Chevallier Cobbold, and depicts her with her daughter at the Presentation in the Temple. The Cobbold family embraced Tractarianism wholeheartedly, being largely responsible for the building of St Bartholomew near their home at Holywells Park. They probably had an influence over the Bacon family, whose wealth went towards the rebuilding, and whose symbol of a boar can be seen in the floor tiles. A good set of Stuart royal arms hangs above the west doorway.
I can't imagine what the 17th Century parishioners would make of this church if they could come back and see it now. Trevor Cooper, in his edition of The Journals of William Dowsing, recalls that the atmosphere in the town was so strongly puritan that in the 1630s the churchwardens were excommunicated for refusing to carry out the sacramentalist reforms of Archbishop Laud. The reforms demanded that the altar be returned to the chancel and railed in, but this was considered idolatrous by the parishioners. When the visitation commissioners of the Bishop of Norwich came to the church in April 1636 to see if the commands had been carried out, the churchwardens refused to give up the keys... verbally assaulting them and and confronting them with 'musketts charged, swords, staves and other weapons'.
Frank Grace, in his 'Schismaticall and Factious Humours': Opposition in Ipswich to Laudian Church Government, records a number of other incidents both here and in other Ipswich churches in the late 1630s, including an attack on 'a conformable minister' (that is to say one faithful to the Bishop) by a mob as well as a stranger who was invited by the town bailiffs to preach a very factious and seditious sermon in Tower church to a large congregation against the authority of the incumbent, who no doubt was held at bay while the ranting went on. As with all the Ipswich churches, the iconoclast William Dowsing was welcomed with open arms by the churchwardens here on his visit of January 1644. Looking around at Phipson's sacramental glory, it is hard to imagine now.
Simon Knott, December 2022
Flint with rottenstone in the Pennsylvanian of Ohio, USA.
Flint is the "official" state gemstone of Ohio (actually, there's no such thing as "official" anything). "Flint" is sometimes used as a lithologic term by modern geologists, but it is a synonym for chert. Flint and chert are the same - they are cryptocrystalline, quartzose sedimentary rocks. Rockhounds often assert that flint is high-quality while chert is low-quality. Some geologists assert that "flint" implies a biogenic origin and "chert" implies a chemical origin.
Many cherts do have a chemical origin - chert nodules are moderately common in some limestone units. The nodules form during diagenesis - pre-existing silica components in the carbonate sediments are dissolved, mobilized, and reprecipitated as chert masses. Some cherts do have a biogenic origin - for example, radiolarian cherts (rich in radiolarian microfossils) or spicular cherts (rich in siliceous sponge spicules).
The most famous flint deposit in Ohio is Flint Ridge, in Licking County. At this locality, the Middle Pennsylvanian-aged Vanport Flint is exposed in several places. The geologic literature on the Vanport Flint is relatively sparse, with inaccurate, incomplete descriptions and characterizations. For example, the literature describes the Vanport as a sheet of flint at Flint Ridge - it's actually a meganodule horizon. Other descriptions refer to the chert as the remains of siliceous sponges. In reality, siliceous sponge spicules are quite scarce in Vanport samples.
Two graduate student projects during the 2000s, conducted at two different universities, had very different conclusions & interpretations about the origin of the Vanport Flint. A 2003 study concluded that chert at Flint Ridge is biogenic in origin. A 2006 study concluded that the chert is chemical in origin.
Modern flint knappers value the Vanport Flint for being multicolored and high-quality (= very few impurities). With artificial heating, the flint is more easily knapped into arrowheads, spear points, and other objects. Prehistoric American Indians quarried the Vanport Flint at many specific sites on Flint Ridge. Old Indian flint pits can be examined along hiking trails in Flint Ridge State Park ("State Memorial"). Many authentic Indian artifacts found in Ohio (arrowheads & spearpoints - "projectile points") are composed of Vanport Flint.
The dark bluish material at the bottom of this sample is flint. The rough-looking, mottled white-and-brown material above the flint is rottenstone, also called tripoli. It forms by long-term weathering.
Stratigraphy: Vanport Flint, Allegheny Group, upper Middle Pennsylvanian
Locality: Nethers Flint Quarries - flint pit in the woods on the southwestern side of Flint Ridge Road, eastern Flint Ridge, far-western Muskingum County, east-central Ohio, USA (vicinity of 40° 00.137’ North latitude, 82° 11.544’ West longitude)
Flint-knapped arrowhead. (~5.3 centimeters tall)
Knapper: Jim Bohannon
Flint is the "official" state gemstone of Ohio (actually, there's no such thing as "official" anything). "Flint" is sometimes used as a lithologic term by modern geologists, but it is a synonym for chert. Flint and chert are the same - they are cryptocrystalline, quartzose sedimentary rocks. Rockhounds often assert that flint is high-quality while chert is low-quality. Some geologists assert that "flint" implies a biogenic origin and "chert" implies a chemical origin.
Many cherts do have a chemical origin - chert nodules are moderately common in some limestone units. The nodules form during diagenesis - pre-existing silica components in the carbonate sediments are dissolved, mobilized, and reprecipitated as chert masses. Some cherts do have a biogenic origin - for example, radiolarian cherts (rich in radiolarian microfossils) or spicular cherts (rich in siliceous sponge spicules).
The most famous flint deposit in Ohio is Flint Ridge, in Licking County. At this locality, the Middle Pennsylvanian-aged Vanport Flint is exposed in several places. The geologic literature on the Vanport Flint is relatively sparse, with inaccurate, incomplete descriptions and characterizations. For example, the literature describes the Vanport as a sheet of flint at Flint Ridge - it's actually a meganodule horizon. Other descriptions refer to the chert as the remains of siliceous sponges. In reality, siliceous sponge spicules are quite scarce in Vanport samples.
Two graduate student projects during the 2000s, conducted at two different universities, had very different conclusions & interpretations about the origin of the Vanport Flint. A 2003 study concluded that chert at Flint Ridge is biogenic in origin. A 2006 study concluded that the chert is chemical in origin.
Modern flint knappers value the Vanport Flint for being multicolored and high-quality (= very few impurities). With artificial heating, the flint is more easily knapped into arrowheads, spear points, and other objects. Prehistoric American Indians quarried the Vanport Flint at many specific sites on Flint Ridge. Old Indian flint pits can be examined along hiking trails in Flint Ridge State Park ("State Memorial"). Many authentic Indian artifacts found in Ohio (arrowheads & spearpoints - "projectile points") are composed of Vanport Flint.
The arrowhead seen here is a modern replica, produced by a skilled knapper named Jim Bohannon. The flint itself comes from a Roy Miller flint pit on Flint Ridge. Material from this site is famous for having greenish and bluish coloration, which become intensified with heating.
Stratigraphy: Vanport Flint, Allegheny Group, upper Middle Pennsylvanian
Locality: Roy Miller flint pit, northwestern corner of the Brownsville Road-Flint Ridge Road intersection, next to Flint Ridge State Park, Flint Ridge, southeastern Licking County, east-central Ohio, USA
U.S. Secretary of State Rex Tillerson shares a few words with Chargé d'affaires Marc Knapper before departing South Korea at Osan Air Base on March 18, 2017. [State Department Photo/ Public Domain]
I was asked a few weeks back, if I fancied meeting up with friends, Simon and Cam for a few bears and a crawl round Ipswich.
Seemed a great idea, but checking Network Rain this week, I found that there were replacement buses out of Liverpool Street to Whitham and out of Cambridge. The first added an hour to the trip to Ipswich, the second, 90 minutes.
Jools said she would enjoy a trip out and a walk around Manningtree, so we could go in the car, I would drive up, she would drive back, and we would both have some exercise and I would meet friends.
Perfect.
Although we had planned to go to Tesco first, in the end we had breakfast and set off at half seven, eager to get some miles under our belts before traffic really built at Dartford.
Up the A2 in bright sunshine, it was a great day for travel, but also I thought it might have been good for checking out orchid woods back home. But a change is always good, and it has been nearly 9 years since Simon invited me for a tour round historic Ipswich, showing there was almost as much history there than in Norwich to the north.
Into Essex before nine, and arriving in Ipswich before ten, we decided to find somewhere for breakfast first before going our separate ways.
A large breakfast later, we split up, and I went to wander north to St Margaret's church, which I had been into on that trip 9 years back, but my shots not so good.
I found many interesting places in-between the modern buildings and urban sprawl, timber framed houses, Tudor brick and much more beside.
Sadly, St Margaret was locked. I could see the notice on the porch door, so I didn't go up to see what it said.
I wandered back, found St Mary le Tower open, so went in and took over a hundred shots, soaking in the fine Victorian glass and carved bench ends, even if they were 19th century and not older.
In the south chapel, a group were talking quietly, so I tried not to disturb them, only realising how loud the shutter on the camera was.
The font took my eye first, as it is a well preserved one from the 15th century. Though these are common in East Anglia, not so in deepest Kent, so I snapped it from all directions, recording each mark of the carver's tools.
The clocked ticked round to midday, and so I made my way to the quayside where I was to meet my friends.
Simon lives in Ipswich, but Cam and David had come down on the train from the Fine City. We met at the Briarbank Brewery Tap where I had a couple of mocha porters, which were very nice indeed.
From there we went to the Dove where we had two more beers as well as lunch.
And finally a walk to The Spread Eagle for one final beer before I walked back to Portman Road to meet Jools at the car.
Jools drove us back to the A12, and pointed the car south. As we drove, dusk fell and rain began to fall. Not very pleasant. But at least traffic was light, so in an hour we were on the M25 and twenty minutes later over the river and back in Kent.
Rain fell steadily as we cruised down the M20, past the familiar landmarks until we were back in Dover. Where we had to make a pit stop at M and S, as we needed supplies, and something for supper.
Not sure that garlic bread and wine counts as a meal, but did for us, so at half nine, we climbed the hill to bed.
--------------------------------------------------
Ipswich is the county town of Suffolk, and is also probably the longest continuously occupied town in England. Here on the River Gipping, in the south of the Anglo-Saxon kingdom of East Anglia, a number of 7th Century industrial villages grew together, and since then Ipswich has always been an industrial and commercial town, processing the produce of the land round about, and exporting it up the River Orwell to other parts of England and the continent. It was wealthy in the late medieval period, but it suffered from being cut off from its European markets by the outfall from the Reformation. A strongly puritan town in the 17th Century, a quiet backwater in the 18th Century, it was not until the Industrial Revolution that it rose to commercial prominence again, with heavy industry producing agricultural machinery, vehicles and other ironwork. It would continue to be important industrially until the 1980s, but then most of the factories closed, and the town has not yet recovered.
The townscape is punctuated by church towers and spires, for Ipswich has twelve surviving medieval churches. Remarkably, six of them are still in use, and of these St Mary le Tower is the biggest and most prominent. Its spire rises sixty metres above the rooftops, making it the second tallest building in the town after the Mill apartment block on the Waterfront. There was a church here in 1200, when the Borough of Ipswich came into being in the churchyard by the declaration of the granting of a charter. The medieval church had a spire until it came down in the hurricane of 1661. When the Diocese of Norwich oversaw the restoration of the church in the mid-19th Century the decision was taken for a complete rebuild in stone on the same site. It is almost entirely the work of diocesan surveyor Richard Phipson, who worked on it over a period of twenty years in the 1850s and 1860s, including replacing the spire, and so this is East Anglia's urban Victorian church par excellence. The rebuilding was bankrolled by the wealthy local Bacon banking family. It is a large church, built more or less on the plan of its predecessor, full of the spirit of its age. One could no more imagine Ipswich without the Tower than without the Orwell Bridge.
The length of the church splits the churchyard into two quite separate parts, the south side a public space, the walled north side atmospheric and secretive. The large cross to the south-west of the tower is not a war memorial. It remembers John Patteson, Bishop of Melanesia, murdered by some of his flock in the 1870s. Treated as a martyr by the press of the day, Patteson appears to have had no local connection, but the Pattesons had intermarried with the Cobbolds, an important local family, and Patteson Road by Ipswich docks also remembers him. There never was a north door, and the west doors are beautiful and liturgically correct but perhaps not useful, since they are below street level and the path merely leads round to the south, allowing processions but no access from Tower Street. The flushwork is exuberant, and makes you think that being a flint-knapper must have been a good living in the 1860s. As with the medieval predecessor, the entrance is through the tower which forms a porch on the south side, in common with about thirty other East Anglian churches. Until the 1860s there was a further castellated porch on the south side of the tower, something in the style of the Hadleigh Deanery tower, but this was removed. You can see it in as photograph at the top of this page. And looking at this photograph, it is hard not to think that Phipson retained at least part of the lower stage of the tower.
There is a small statue of the church's patron saint in the niche above the entrance, by the sculptor Richard Pfeiffer. Away to the east, the same sculptor produced St John the Evangelist and St Mary of Magdala on the end of the chancel, and there is more of his work inside. You step into the tower porch under vaulting. A small door in the north-east corner leads up into the ringing chamber and beyond that the belfry, with a ring of twelve bells. The south doorway into the church has stops representing the Annunciation, with the angel to the west, and Mary at her prayer desk to the east. As part of a Millennium project this doorway was painted and gilded. It leads through into the south aisle, beyond which the wide nave seems to swallow all sound, a powerful transition from the outside. Polished wood and tile gleam under coloured light from large windows filled with 19th Century glass. At one time the walls were stencilled, but this was removed in the 1960s. The former church was dark and serious inside, as a drawing in the north aisle shows, so it must have made quite a contrast when the townspeople first entered their new church.
The font by the doorway is the first of a number of significant survivals from the old church. It's one of the 15th Century East Anglian series of which several hundred survive, all slightly different. It is in good condition, and you can't help thinking that this is ironically because Ipswich was a town which embraced protestantism whole-heartedly after the Reformation, and it is likely that the font was plastered over in the mid-16th Century to make it plain and simple. The lions around the pillar stand on human heads, and there are more heads beneath the bowl. The next survival that comes into view is the pair of 15th Century benches at the west end of the nave. The bench ends are clerics holding books, and above them memorable finials depicting two lions, a dragon and what might be a cat or a dog.
The box pews were removed as part of Phipson's restoration and replaced with high quality benches. The front row are the Borough Corporation seats, a mace rest and a sword rest in front of them. The carvings on the ends of the benches are seahorses, the creatures that hold the shield on the Ipswich Borough arms, and on the finials in front are lions holding ships, the crest of the Borough. As you might expect in Ipswich these are by Henry Ringham, whose church carving was always of a high quality, and is perhaps best known at Woolpit and Combs. His workshop on St John's Road employed fifty people at the time of the 1861 census, but by the following year he was bankrupt, and so the work here is likely some of the last that he produced. He died in 1866, and Ringham Road in East Ipswich remembers him.
Moving into the chancel, the other major survival is a collection of late 15th and early 16th Century brasses. Altogether there are ten large figures, but in fact some of them represent the same person more than once. The most memorable is probably that of Alys Baldry, who died in 1507. She lies between her two husbands. The first, Robert Wimbill, is on the right. He died in about 1477. He was a notary, and his ink pot and pen case hang from his belt. Her second husband, Thomas Baldry, is on the left. He died in 1525. He was a merchant, and his merchant mark is set beneath his feet next to Alys's five daughters and four sons.
Alys Baldry, Robert Wimbill and Thomas Baldry are all depicted in further brasses here. The best of these is that to Robert. It was commissioned by his will in the 1470s. He lies on his own with a Latin inscription which translates as 'My hope lies in my heart. Holy Trinity, one God, have mercy on me.' His ink pot and pen case hang from his belt again, and between his feet are a skull and scattered bones, an early memento mori. Thomas Baldry's own brass memorial shows him lying between his two wives, Alys who we have already met, and his second wife Christian. The other group of three figures depicts Thomas Drayll, a merchant, with his wives Margaret and Agnes. Thomas died in 1512. The arms of the Cinque Ports are set above him, and a large merchant mark is beneath his feet. Several inscriptions are missing, and we know that when the iconoclast William Dowsing visited the church on 29th Janary 1644 he ordered the removal of six brass inscriptions with Ora pro nobis ('pray for us') and Ora pro animabus ('pray for our souls'), and Cujus animae propitietur deus ('on whose soul may God have mercy') and pray for the soul in English.
The spectacular sanctuary with its imposing reredos, piscina and sedilia was clearly designed for shadowy, incense-led worship. A lush Arts and Crafts crucifixion surmounts the altar. East Anglian saints flank the walls. James Bettley, revising the Buildings of England volume for East Suffolk, records that it was the work of Somers, Clarke & Micklethwaite in the 1880s. The chancel is only lit from the east window, emphasising the focus from the rest of the church. The set of twelve apostles and twelve angels on the choir stalls are also by Pfeiffer. You can see his signature on the back of St Luke's icon of the Blessed Virgin. This sanctuary is the ultimate expression of late 19th Century Tractarianism in Suffolk. Back in the nave, the early 18th Century pulpit speaks of a different liturgical age, when this church was a preaching house rather than a sacramental space. James Bettley credits its carving to James Hubbard, and notes its similarity to that in the Unitarian Meeting House a few hundred yards off. The 19th Century screen that stood in the chancel arch and separated these two liturgical ages was moved to the east end of the north aisle as an organ screen some time in the 20th Century.
Another screen separates off the Lady Chapel from the south aisle and the chancel. The chapel is a pleasing period piece, furnished sentimentally. The reredos, by Arthur Wallace in 1907, depicts the Supper at Emmaus flanked by Moses and Elijah in an echo of the Transfiguration. The early 20th Century paintings on the south wall are lovely, especially the infant Christ as he plays at the feet of St Joseph. But the overwhelming atmosphere of this church comes from its extensive range of 19th Century glass, the largest collection in Suffolk. It provides a catalogue of some of the major 19th Century workshops over a fairly short period, from the 1850s to the 1880s. Much of it is by Clayton & Bell, who probably received the commission for east and west windows and south aisle as part of Phipson's rebuilding contract. Other major workshops include those of William Wailes, the O'Connors and Lavers, Barraud & Westlake. A small amount of 1840s glass in the north aisle was reset here from the previous church. There are photographs of the glass at the bottom of this page.
As was common in major 19th Century restorations, the memorials that once flanked the walls were collected together and reset at the west end of the nave. At St Mary le Tower this was a major task, for there are a lot of them. The most famous is that to William Smart, MP for Ipswich in the late 16th Century. It is painted on boards. His inscription is a long acrostic, and he kneels at the bottom opposite his wife. between them is a panoramic view of the Ipswich townscape as it was in 1599, the year that he died, a remarkable snapshot of the past. Other memorials include those of the 17th Century when Ipswich was the heartland of firebrand protestant East Anglia. Matthew Lawrence, who died in 1653, was the publike preacher of this towne. There are more memorials in the north chancel aisle, now divided up as vestries. The best of these is to John and Elizabeth Robinson. He died in 1666. They kneel at their prayer desks, and below them are their children Thomas, John, Mary and Elizabeth, who all predeceased their mother. Also here are memorials to a number of the Cobbold family, who were not only important locally but even provided ministers for this church.
There are more Cobbold memorials in the nave, including one in glass at the west end of the north aisle. It is dedicated to Lucy Chevallier Cobbold, and depicts her with her daughter at the Presentation in the Temple. The Cobbold family embraced Tractarianism wholeheartedly, being largely responsible for the building of St Bartholomew near their home at Holywells Park. They probably had an influence over the Bacon family, whose wealth went towards the rebuilding, and whose symbol of a boar can be seen in the floor tiles. A good set of Stuart royal arms hangs above the west doorway.
I can't imagine what the 17th Century parishioners would make of this church if they could come back and see it now. Trevor Cooper, in his edition of The Journals of William Dowsing, recalls that the atmosphere in the town was so strongly puritan that in the 1630s the churchwardens were excommunicated for refusing to carry out the sacramentalist reforms of Archbishop Laud. The reforms demanded that the altar be returned to the chancel and railed in, but this was considered idolatrous by the parishioners. When the visitation commissioners of the Bishop of Norwich came to the church in April 1636 to see if the commands had been carried out, the churchwardens refused to give up the keys... verbally assaulting them and and confronting them with 'musketts charged, swords, staves and other weapons'.
Frank Grace, in his 'Schismaticall and Factious Humours': Opposition in Ipswich to Laudian Church Government, records a number of other incidents both here and in other Ipswich churches in the late 1630s, including an attack on 'a conformable minister' (that is to say one faithful to the Bishop) by a mob as well as a stranger who was invited by the town bailiffs to preach a very factious and seditious sermon in Tower church to a large congregation against the authority of the incumbent, who no doubt was held at bay while the ranting went on. As with all the Ipswich churches, the iconoclast William Dowsing was welcomed with open arms by the churchwardens here on his visit of January 1644. Looking around at Phipson's sacramental glory, it is hard to imagine now.
Simon Knott, December 2022
I was asked a few weeks back, if I fancied meeting up with friends, Simon and Cam for a few bears and a crawl round Ipswich.
Seemed a great idea, but checking Network Rain this week, I found that there were replacement buses out of Liverpool Street to Whitham and out of Cambridge. The first added an hour to the trip to Ipswich, the second, 90 minutes.
Jools said she would enjoy a trip out and a walk around Manningtree, so we could go in the car, I would drive up, she would drive back, and we would both have some exercise and I would meet friends.
Perfect.
Although we had planned to go to Tesco first, in the end we had breakfast and set off at half seven, eager to get some miles under our belts before traffic really built at Dartford.
Up the A2 in bright sunshine, it was a great day for travel, but also I thought it might have been good for checking out orchid woods back home. But a change is always good, and it has been nearly 9 years since Simon invited me for a tour round historic Ipswich, showing there was almost as much history there than in Norwich to the north.
Into Essex before nine, and arriving in Ipswich before ten, we decided to find somewhere for breakfast first before going our separate ways.
A large breakfast later, we split up, and I went to wander north to St Margaret's church, which I had been into on that trip 9 years back, but my shots not so good.
I found many interesting places in-between the modern buildings and urban sprawl, timber framed houses, Tudor brick and much more beside.
Sadly, St Margaret was locked. I could see the notice on the porch door, so I didn't go up to see what it said.
I wandered back, found St Mary le Tower open, so went in and took over a hundred shots, soaking in the fine Victorian glass and carved bench ends, even if they were 19th century and not older.
In the south chapel, a group were talking quietly, so I tried not to disturb them, only realising how loud the shutter on the camera was.
The font took my eye first, as it is a well preserved one from the 15th century. Though these are common in East Anglia, not so in deepest Kent, so I snapped it from all directions, recording each mark of the carver's tools.
The clocked ticked round to midday, and so I made my way to the quayside where I was to meet my friends.
Simon lives in Ipswich, but Cam and David had come down on the train from the Fine City. We met at the Briarbank Brewery Tap where I had a couple of mocha porters, which were very nice indeed.
From there we went to the Dove where we had two more beers as well as lunch.
And finally a walk to The Spread Eagle for one final beer before I walked back to Portman Road to meet Jools at the car.
Jools drove us back to the A12, and pointed the car south. As we drove, dusk fell and rain began to fall. Not very pleasant. But at least traffic was light, so in an hour we were on the M25 and twenty minutes later over the river and back in Kent.
Rain fell steadily as we cruised down the M20, past the familiar landmarks until we were back in Dover. Where we had to make a pit stop at M and S, as we needed supplies, and something for supper.
Not sure that garlic bread and wine counts as a meal, but did for us, so at half nine, we climbed the hill to bed.
--------------------------------------------------
Ipswich is the county town of Suffolk, and is also probably the longest continuously occupied town in England. Here on the River Gipping, in the south of the Anglo-Saxon kingdom of East Anglia, a number of 7th Century industrial villages grew together, and since then Ipswich has always been an industrial and commercial town, processing the produce of the land round about, and exporting it up the River Orwell to other parts of England and the continent. It was wealthy in the late medieval period, but it suffered from being cut off from its European markets by the outfall from the Reformation. A strongly puritan town in the 17th Century, a quiet backwater in the 18th Century, it was not until the Industrial Revolution that it rose to commercial prominence again, with heavy industry producing agricultural machinery, vehicles and other ironwork. It would continue to be important industrially until the 1980s, but then most of the factories closed, and the town has not yet recovered.
The townscape is punctuated by church towers and spires, for Ipswich has twelve surviving medieval churches. Remarkably, six of them are still in use, and of these St Mary le Tower is the biggest and most prominent. Its spire rises sixty metres above the rooftops, making it the second tallest building in the town after the Mill apartment block on the Waterfront. There was a church here in 1200, when the Borough of Ipswich came into being in the churchyard by the declaration of the granting of a charter. The medieval church had a spire until it came down in the hurricane of 1661. When the Diocese of Norwich oversaw the restoration of the church in the mid-19th Century the decision was taken for a complete rebuild in stone on the same site. It is almost entirely the work of diocesan surveyor Richard Phipson, who worked on it over a period of twenty years in the 1850s and 1860s, including replacing the spire, and so this is East Anglia's urban Victorian church par excellence. The rebuilding was bankrolled by the wealthy local Bacon banking family. It is a large church, built more or less on the plan of its predecessor, full of the spirit of its age. One could no more imagine Ipswich without the Tower than without the Orwell Bridge.
The length of the church splits the churchyard into two quite separate parts, the south side a public space, the walled north side atmospheric and secretive. The large cross to the south-west of the tower is not a war memorial. It remembers John Patteson, Bishop of Melanesia, murdered by some of his flock in the 1870s. Treated as a martyr by the press of the day, Patteson appears to have had no local connection, but the Pattesons had intermarried with the Cobbolds, an important local family, and Patteson Road by Ipswich docks also remembers him. There never was a north door, and the west doors are beautiful and liturgically correct but perhaps not useful, since they are below street level and the path merely leads round to the south, allowing processions but no access from Tower Street. The flushwork is exuberant, and makes you think that being a flint-knapper must have been a good living in the 1860s. As with the medieval predecessor, the entrance is through the tower which forms a porch on the south side, in common with about thirty other East Anglian churches. Until the 1860s there was a further castellated porch on the south side of the tower, something in the style of the Hadleigh Deanery tower, but this was removed. You can see it in as photograph at the top of this page. And looking at this photograph, it is hard not to think that Phipson retained at least part of the lower stage of the tower.
There is a small statue of the church's patron saint in the niche above the entrance, by the sculptor Richard Pfeiffer. Away to the east, the same sculptor produced St John the Evangelist and St Mary of Magdala on the end of the chancel, and there is more of his work inside. You step into the tower porch under vaulting. A small door in the north-east corner leads up into the ringing chamber and beyond that the belfry, with a ring of twelve bells. The south doorway into the church has stops representing the Annunciation, with the angel to the west, and Mary at her prayer desk to the east. As part of a Millennium project this doorway was painted and gilded. It leads through into the south aisle, beyond which the wide nave seems to swallow all sound, a powerful transition from the outside. Polished wood and tile gleam under coloured light from large windows filled with 19th Century glass. At one time the walls were stencilled, but this was removed in the 1960s. The former church was dark and serious inside, as a drawing in the north aisle shows, so it must have made quite a contrast when the townspeople first entered their new church.
The font by the doorway is the first of a number of significant survivals from the old church. It's one of the 15th Century East Anglian series of which several hundred survive, all slightly different. It is in good condition, and you can't help thinking that this is ironically because Ipswich was a town which embraced protestantism whole-heartedly after the Reformation, and it is likely that the font was plastered over in the mid-16th Century to make it plain and simple. The lions around the pillar stand on human heads, and there are more heads beneath the bowl. The next survival that comes into view is the pair of 15th Century benches at the west end of the nave. The bench ends are clerics holding books, and above them memorable finials depicting two lions, a dragon and what might be a cat or a dog.
The box pews were removed as part of Phipson's restoration and replaced with high quality benches. The front row are the Borough Corporation seats, a mace rest and a sword rest in front of them. The carvings on the ends of the benches are seahorses, the creatures that hold the shield on the Ipswich Borough arms, and on the finials in front are lions holding ships, the crest of the Borough. As you might expect in Ipswich these are by Henry Ringham, whose church carving was always of a high quality, and is perhaps best known at Woolpit and Combs. His workshop on St John's Road employed fifty people at the time of the 1861 census, but by the following year he was bankrupt, and so the work here is likely some of the last that he produced. He died in 1866, and Ringham Road in East Ipswich remembers him.
Moving into the chancel, the other major survival is a collection of late 15th and early 16th Century brasses. Altogether there are ten large figures, but in fact some of them represent the same person more than once. The most memorable is probably that of Alys Baldry, who died in 1507. She lies between her two husbands. The first, Robert Wimbill, is on the right. He died in about 1477. He was a notary, and his ink pot and pen case hang from his belt. Her second husband, Thomas Baldry, is on the left. He died in 1525. He was a merchant, and his merchant mark is set beneath his feet next to Alys's five daughters and four sons.
Alys Baldry, Robert Wimbill and Thomas Baldry are all depicted in further brasses here. The best of these is that to Robert. It was commissioned by his will in the 1470s. He lies on his own with a Latin inscription which translates as 'My hope lies in my heart. Holy Trinity, one God, have mercy on me.' His ink pot and pen case hang from his belt again, and between his feet are a skull and scattered bones, an early memento mori. Thomas Baldry's own brass memorial shows him lying between his two wives, Alys who we have already met, and his second wife Christian. The other group of three figures depicts Thomas Drayll, a merchant, with his wives Margaret and Agnes. Thomas died in 1512. The arms of the Cinque Ports are set above him, and a large merchant mark is beneath his feet. Several inscriptions are missing, and we know that when the iconoclast William Dowsing visited the church on 29th Janary 1644 he ordered the removal of six brass inscriptions with Ora pro nobis ('pray for us') and Ora pro animabus ('pray for our souls'), and Cujus animae propitietur deus ('on whose soul may God have mercy') and pray for the soul in English.
The spectacular sanctuary with its imposing reredos, piscina and sedilia was clearly designed for shadowy, incense-led worship. A lush Arts and Crafts crucifixion surmounts the altar. East Anglian saints flank the walls. James Bettley, revising the Buildings of England volume for East Suffolk, records that it was the work of Somers, Clarke & Micklethwaite in the 1880s. The chancel is only lit from the east window, emphasising the focus from the rest of the church. The set of twelve apostles and twelve angels on the choir stalls are also by Pfeiffer. You can see his signature on the back of St Luke's icon of the Blessed Virgin. This sanctuary is the ultimate expression of late 19th Century Tractarianism in Suffolk. Back in the nave, the early 18th Century pulpit speaks of a different liturgical age, when this church was a preaching house rather than a sacramental space. James Bettley credits its carving to James Hubbard, and notes its similarity to that in the Unitarian Meeting House a few hundred yards off. The 19th Century screen that stood in the chancel arch and separated these two liturgical ages was moved to the east end of the north aisle as an organ screen some time in the 20th Century.
Another screen separates off the Lady Chapel from the south aisle and the chancel. The chapel is a pleasing period piece, furnished sentimentally. The reredos, by Arthur Wallace in 1907, depicts the Supper at Emmaus flanked by Moses and Elijah in an echo of the Transfiguration. The early 20th Century paintings on the south wall are lovely, especially the infant Christ as he plays at the feet of St Joseph. But the overwhelming atmosphere of this church comes from its extensive range of 19th Century glass, the largest collection in Suffolk. It provides a catalogue of some of the major 19th Century workshops over a fairly short period, from the 1850s to the 1880s. Much of it is by Clayton & Bell, who probably received the commission for east and west windows and south aisle as part of Phipson's rebuilding contract. Other major workshops include those of William Wailes, the O'Connors and Lavers, Barraud & Westlake. A small amount of 1840s glass in the north aisle was reset here from the previous church. There are photographs of the glass at the bottom of this page.
As was common in major 19th Century restorations, the memorials that once flanked the walls were collected together and reset at the west end of the nave. At St Mary le Tower this was a major task, for there are a lot of them. The most famous is that to William Smart, MP for Ipswich in the late 16th Century. It is painted on boards. His inscription is a long acrostic, and he kneels at the bottom opposite his wife. between them is a panoramic view of the Ipswich townscape as it was in 1599, the year that he died, a remarkable snapshot of the past. Other memorials include those of the 17th Century when Ipswich was the heartland of firebrand protestant East Anglia. Matthew Lawrence, who died in 1653, was the publike preacher of this towne. There are more memorials in the north chancel aisle, now divided up as vestries. The best of these is to John and Elizabeth Robinson. He died in 1666. They kneel at their prayer desks, and below them are their children Thomas, John, Mary and Elizabeth, who all predeceased their mother. Also here are memorials to a number of the Cobbold family, who were not only important locally but even provided ministers for this church.
There are more Cobbold memorials in the nave, including one in glass at the west end of the north aisle. It is dedicated to Lucy Chevallier Cobbold, and depicts her with her daughter at the Presentation in the Temple. The Cobbold family embraced Tractarianism wholeheartedly, being largely responsible for the building of St Bartholomew near their home at Holywells Park. They probably had an influence over the Bacon family, whose wealth went towards the rebuilding, and whose symbol of a boar can be seen in the floor tiles. A good set of Stuart royal arms hangs above the west doorway.
I can't imagine what the 17th Century parishioners would make of this church if they could come back and see it now. Trevor Cooper, in his edition of The Journals of William Dowsing, recalls that the atmosphere in the town was so strongly puritan that in the 1630s the churchwardens were excommunicated for refusing to carry out the sacramentalist reforms of Archbishop Laud. The reforms demanded that the altar be returned to the chancel and railed in, but this was considered idolatrous by the parishioners. When the visitation commissioners of the Bishop of Norwich came to the church in April 1636 to see if the commands had been carried out, the churchwardens refused to give up the keys... verbally assaulting them and and confronting them with 'musketts charged, swords, staves and other weapons'.
Frank Grace, in his 'Schismaticall and Factious Humours': Opposition in Ipswich to Laudian Church Government, records a number of other incidents both here and in other Ipswich churches in the late 1630s, including an attack on 'a conformable minister' (that is to say one faithful to the Bishop) by a mob as well as a stranger who was invited by the town bailiffs to preach a very factious and seditious sermon in Tower church to a large congregation against the authority of the incumbent, who no doubt was held at bay while the ranting went on. As with all the Ipswich churches, the iconoclast William Dowsing was welcomed with open arms by the churchwardens here on his visit of January 1644. Looking around at Phipson's sacramental glory, it is hard to imagine now.
Simon Knott, December 2022
Flint-knapped spearpoint.
Knapper: Roy Miller
Flint is the "official" state gemstone of Ohio (actually, there's no such thing as "official" anything). "Flint" is sometimes used as a lithologic term by modern geologists, but it is a synonym for chert. Flint and chert are the same - they are cryptocrystalline, quartzose sedimentary rocks. Rockhounds often assert that flint is high-quality while chert is low-quality. Some geologists assert that "flint" implies a biogenic origin and "chert" implies a chemical origin.
Many cherts do have a chemical origin - chert nodules are moderately common in some limestone units. The nodules form during diagenesis - pre-existing silica components in the carbonate sediments are dissolved, mobilized, and reprecipitated as chert masses. Some cherts do have a biogenic origin - for example, radiolarian cherts (rich in radiolarian microfossils) or spicular cherts (rich in siliceous sponge spicules).
The most famous flint deposit in Ohio is Flint Ridge, in Licking County. At this locality, the Middle Pennsylvanian-aged Vanport Flint is exposed in several places. The geologic literature on the Vanport Flint is relatively sparse, with inaccurate, incomplete descriptions and characterizations. For example, the literature describes the Vanport as a sheet of flint at Flint Ridge - it's actually a meganodule horizon. Other descriptions refer to the chert as the remains of siliceous sponges. In reality, siliceous sponge spicules are quite scarce in Vanport samples.
Two graduate student projects during the 2000s, conducted at two different universities, had very different conclusions & interpretations about the origin of the Vanport Flint. A 2003 study concluded that chert at Flint Ridge is biogenic in origin. A 2006 study concluded that the chert is chemical in origin.
Studies done by geologists at Ohio State University at Newark indicate that the Vanport Flint has a relatively complex history, the details of which are still being worked out.
Modern flint knappers value the Vanport Flint for being multicolored and high-quality (= very few impurities). With artificial heating, the flint is more easily knapped into arrowheads, spear points, and other objects. Prehistoric American Indians quarried the Vanport Flint at many specific sites on Flint Ridge. Old Indian flint pits can be examined along hiking trails in Flint Ridge State Park ("State Memorial"). Many authentic Indian artifacts found in Ohio (arrowheads & spearpoints - "projectile points") are composed of Vanport Flint.
The spectacular spearpoint shown here is a modern replica, produced by a skilled knapper named Roy Miller. Vanport Flint nodules at his property are famous for having greenish and bluish coloration, which become intensified with heating. This specimen has an estimated value of five thousand American dollars.
Stratigraphy: Vanport Flint, Allegheny Group, upper Middle Pennsylvanian
Locality: Roy Miller flint pit, northwestern corner of the Brownsville Road-Flint Ridge Road intersection, next to Flint Ridge State Park, Flint Ridge, southeastern Licking County, east-central Ohio, USA
I was asked a few weeks back, if I fancied meeting up with friends, Simon and Cam for a few bears and a crawl round Ipswich.
Seemed a great idea, but checking Network Rain this week, I found that there were replacement buses out of Liverpool Street to Whitham and out of Cambridge. The first added an hour to the trip to Ipswich, the second, 90 minutes.
Jools said she would enjoy a trip out and a walk around Manningtree, so we could go in the car, I would drive up, she would drive back, and we would both have some exercise and I would meet friends.
Perfect.
Although we had planned to go to Tesco first, in the end we had breakfast and set off at half seven, eager to get some miles under our belts before traffic really built at Dartford.
Up the A2 in bright sunshine, it was a great day for travel, but also I thought it might have been good for checking out orchid woods back home. But a change is always good, and it has been nearly 9 years since Simon invited me for a tour round historic Ipswich, showing there was almost as much history there than in Norwich to the north.
Into Essex before nine, and arriving in Ipswich before ten, we decided to find somewhere for breakfast first before going our separate ways.
A large breakfast later, we split up, and I went to wander north to St Margaret's church, which I had been into on that trip 9 years back, but my shots not so good.
I found many interesting places in-between the modern buildings and urban sprawl, timber framed houses, Tudor brick and much more beside.
Sadly, St Margaret was locked. I could see the notice on the porch door, so I didn't go up to see what it said.
I wandered back, found St Mary le Tower open, so went in and took over a hundred shots, soaking in the fine Victorian glass and carved bench ends, even if they were 19th century and not older.
In the south chapel, a group were talking quietly, so I tried not to disturb them, only realising how loud the shutter on the camera was.
The font took my eye first, as it is a well preserved one from the 15th century. Though these are common in East Anglia, not so in deepest Kent, so I snapped it from all directions, recording each mark of the carver's tools.
The clocked ticked round to midday, and so I made my way to the quayside where I was to meet my friends.
Simon lives in Ipswich, but Cam and David had come down on the train from the Fine City. We met at the Briarbank Brewery Tap where I had a couple of mocha porters, which were very nice indeed.
From there we went to the Dove where we had two more beers as well as lunch.
And finally a walk to The Spread Eagle for one final beer before I walked back to Portman Road to meet Jools at the car.
Jools drove us back to the A12, and pointed the car south. As we drove, dusk fell and rain began to fall. Not very pleasant. But at least traffic was light, so in an hour we were on the M25 and twenty minutes later over the river and back in Kent.
Rain fell steadily as we cruised down the M20, past the familiar landmarks until we were back in Dover. Where we had to make a pit stop at M and S, as we needed supplies, and something for supper.
Not sure that garlic bread and wine counts as a meal, but did for us, so at half nine, we climbed the hill to bed.
--------------------------------------------------
Ipswich is the county town of Suffolk, and is also probably the longest continuously occupied town in England. Here on the River Gipping, in the south of the Anglo-Saxon kingdom of East Anglia, a number of 7th Century industrial villages grew together, and since then Ipswich has always been an industrial and commercial town, processing the produce of the land round about, and exporting it up the River Orwell to other parts of England and the continent. It was wealthy in the late medieval period, but it suffered from being cut off from its European markets by the outfall from the Reformation. A strongly puritan town in the 17th Century, a quiet backwater in the 18th Century, it was not until the Industrial Revolution that it rose to commercial prominence again, with heavy industry producing agricultural machinery, vehicles and other ironwork. It would continue to be important industrially until the 1980s, but then most of the factories closed, and the town has not yet recovered.
The townscape is punctuated by church towers and spires, for Ipswich has twelve surviving medieval churches. Remarkably, six of them are still in use, and of these St Mary le Tower is the biggest and most prominent. Its spire rises sixty metres above the rooftops, making it the second tallest building in the town after the Mill apartment block on the Waterfront. There was a church here in 1200, when the Borough of Ipswich came into being in the churchyard by the declaration of the granting of a charter. The medieval church had a spire until it came down in the hurricane of 1661. When the Diocese of Norwich oversaw the restoration of the church in the mid-19th Century the decision was taken for a complete rebuild in stone on the same site. It is almost entirely the work of diocesan surveyor Richard Phipson, who worked on it over a period of twenty years in the 1850s and 1860s, including replacing the spire, and so this is East Anglia's urban Victorian church par excellence. The rebuilding was bankrolled by the wealthy local Bacon banking family. It is a large church, built more or less on the plan of its predecessor, full of the spirit of its age. One could no more imagine Ipswich without the Tower than without the Orwell Bridge.
The length of the church splits the churchyard into two quite separate parts, the south side a public space, the walled north side atmospheric and secretive. The large cross to the south-west of the tower is not a war memorial. It remembers John Patteson, Bishop of Melanesia, murdered by some of his flock in the 1870s. Treated as a martyr by the press of the day, Patteson appears to have had no local connection, but the Pattesons had intermarried with the Cobbolds, an important local family, and Patteson Road by Ipswich docks also remembers him. There never was a north door, and the west doors are beautiful and liturgically correct but perhaps not useful, since they are below street level and the path merely leads round to the south, allowing processions but no access from Tower Street. The flushwork is exuberant, and makes you think that being a flint-knapper must have been a good living in the 1860s. As with the medieval predecessor, the entrance is through the tower which forms a porch on the south side, in common with about thirty other East Anglian churches. Until the 1860s there was a further castellated porch on the south side of the tower, something in the style of the Hadleigh Deanery tower, but this was removed. You can see it in as photograph at the top of this page. And looking at this photograph, it is hard not to think that Phipson retained at least part of the lower stage of the tower.
There is a small statue of the church's patron saint in the niche above the entrance, by the sculptor Richard Pfeiffer. Away to the east, the same sculptor produced St John the Evangelist and St Mary of Magdala on the end of the chancel, and there is more of his work inside. You step into the tower porch under vaulting. A small door in the north-east corner leads up into the ringing chamber and beyond that the belfry, with a ring of twelve bells. The south doorway into the church has stops representing the Annunciation, with the angel to the west, and Mary at her prayer desk to the east. As part of a Millennium project this doorway was painted and gilded. It leads through into the south aisle, beyond which the wide nave seems to swallow all sound, a powerful transition from the outside. Polished wood and tile gleam under coloured light from large windows filled with 19th Century glass. At one time the walls were stencilled, but this was removed in the 1960s. The former church was dark and serious inside, as a drawing in the north aisle shows, so it must have made quite a contrast when the townspeople first entered their new church.
The font by the doorway is the first of a number of significant survivals from the old church. It's one of the 15th Century East Anglian series of which several hundred survive, all slightly different. It is in good condition, and you can't help thinking that this is ironically because Ipswich was a town which embraced protestantism whole-heartedly after the Reformation, and it is likely that the font was plastered over in the mid-16th Century to make it plain and simple. The lions around the pillar stand on human heads, and there are more heads beneath the bowl. The next survival that comes into view is the pair of 15th Century benches at the west end of the nave. The bench ends are clerics holding books, and above them memorable finials depicting two lions, a dragon and what might be a cat or a dog.
The box pews were removed as part of Phipson's restoration and replaced with high quality benches. The front row are the Borough Corporation seats, a mace rest and a sword rest in front of them. The carvings on the ends of the benches are seahorses, the creatures that hold the shield on the Ipswich Borough arms, and on the finials in front are lions holding ships, the crest of the Borough. As you might expect in Ipswich these are by Henry Ringham, whose church carving was always of a high quality, and is perhaps best known at Woolpit and Combs. His workshop on St John's Road employed fifty people at the time of the 1861 census, but by the following year he was bankrupt, and so the work here is likely some of the last that he produced. He died in 1866, and Ringham Road in East Ipswich remembers him.
Moving into the chancel, the other major survival is a collection of late 15th and early 16th Century brasses. Altogether there are ten large figures, but in fact some of them represent the same person more than once. The most memorable is probably that of Alys Baldry, who died in 1507. She lies between her two husbands. The first, Robert Wimbill, is on the right. He died in about 1477. He was a notary, and his ink pot and pen case hang from his belt. Her second husband, Thomas Baldry, is on the left. He died in 1525. He was a merchant, and his merchant mark is set beneath his feet next to Alys's five daughters and four sons.
Alys Baldry, Robert Wimbill and Thomas Baldry are all depicted in further brasses here. The best of these is that to Robert. It was commissioned by his will in the 1470s. He lies on his own with a Latin inscription which translates as 'My hope lies in my heart. Holy Trinity, one God, have mercy on me.' His ink pot and pen case hang from his belt again, and between his feet are a skull and scattered bones, an early memento mori. Thomas Baldry's own brass memorial shows him lying between his two wives, Alys who we have already met, and his second wife Christian. The other group of three figures depicts Thomas Drayll, a merchant, with his wives Margaret and Agnes. Thomas died in 1512. The arms of the Cinque Ports are set above him, and a large merchant mark is beneath his feet. Several inscriptions are missing, and we know that when the iconoclast William Dowsing visited the church on 29th Janary 1644 he ordered the removal of six brass inscriptions with Ora pro nobis ('pray for us') and Ora pro animabus ('pray for our souls'), and Cujus animae propitietur deus ('on whose soul may God have mercy') and pray for the soul in English.
The spectacular sanctuary with its imposing reredos, piscina and sedilia was clearly designed for shadowy, incense-led worship. A lush Arts and Crafts crucifixion surmounts the altar. East Anglian saints flank the walls. James Bettley, revising the Buildings of England volume for East Suffolk, records that it was the work of Somers, Clarke & Micklethwaite in the 1880s. The chancel is only lit from the east window, emphasising the focus from the rest of the church. The set of twelve apostles and twelve angels on the choir stalls are also by Pfeiffer. You can see his signature on the back of St Luke's icon of the Blessed Virgin. This sanctuary is the ultimate expression of late 19th Century Tractarianism in Suffolk. Back in the nave, the early 18th Century pulpit speaks of a different liturgical age, when this church was a preaching house rather than a sacramental space. James Bettley credits its carving to James Hubbard, and notes its similarity to that in the Unitarian Meeting House a few hundred yards off. The 19th Century screen that stood in the chancel arch and separated these two liturgical ages was moved to the east end of the north aisle as an organ screen some time in the 20th Century.
Another screen separates off the Lady Chapel from the south aisle and the chancel. The chapel is a pleasing period piece, furnished sentimentally. The reredos, by Arthur Wallace in 1907, depicts the Supper at Emmaus flanked by Moses and Elijah in an echo of the Transfiguration. The early 20th Century paintings on the south wall are lovely, especially the infant Christ as he plays at the feet of St Joseph. But the overwhelming atmosphere of this church comes from its extensive range of 19th Century glass, the largest collection in Suffolk. It provides a catalogue of some of the major 19th Century workshops over a fairly short period, from the 1850s to the 1880s. Much of it is by Clayton & Bell, who probably received the commission for east and west windows and south aisle as part of Phipson's rebuilding contract. Other major workshops include those of William Wailes, the O'Connors and Lavers, Barraud & Westlake. A small amount of 1840s glass in the north aisle was reset here from the previous church. There are photographs of the glass at the bottom of this page.
As was common in major 19th Century restorations, the memorials that once flanked the walls were collected together and reset at the west end of the nave. At St Mary le Tower this was a major task, for there are a lot of them. The most famous is that to William Smart, MP for Ipswich in the late 16th Century. It is painted on boards. His inscription is a long acrostic, and he kneels at the bottom opposite his wife. between them is a panoramic view of the Ipswich townscape as it was in 1599, the year that he died, a remarkable snapshot of the past. Other memorials include those of the 17th Century when Ipswich was the heartland of firebrand protestant East Anglia. Matthew Lawrence, who died in 1653, was the publike preacher of this towne. There are more memorials in the north chancel aisle, now divided up as vestries. The best of these is to John and Elizabeth Robinson. He died in 1666. They kneel at their prayer desks, and below them are their children Thomas, John, Mary and Elizabeth, who all predeceased their mother. Also here are memorials to a number of the Cobbold family, who were not only important locally but even provided ministers for this church.
There are more Cobbold memorials in the nave, including one in glass at the west end of the north aisle. It is dedicated to Lucy Chevallier Cobbold, and depicts her with her daughter at the Presentation in the Temple. The Cobbold family embraced Tractarianism wholeheartedly, being largely responsible for the building of St Bartholomew near their home at Holywells Park. They probably had an influence over the Bacon family, whose wealth went towards the rebuilding, and whose symbol of a boar can be seen in the floor tiles. A good set of Stuart royal arms hangs above the west doorway.
I can't imagine what the 17th Century parishioners would make of this church if they could come back and see it now. Trevor Cooper, in his edition of The Journals of William Dowsing, recalls that the atmosphere in the town was so strongly puritan that in the 1630s the churchwardens were excommunicated for refusing to carry out the sacramentalist reforms of Archbishop Laud. The reforms demanded that the altar be returned to the chancel and railed in, but this was considered idolatrous by the parishioners. When the visitation commissioners of the Bishop of Norwich came to the church in April 1636 to see if the commands had been carried out, the churchwardens refused to give up the keys... verbally assaulting them and and confronting them with 'musketts charged, swords, staves and other weapons'.
Frank Grace, in his 'Schismaticall and Factious Humours': Opposition in Ipswich to Laudian Church Government, records a number of other incidents both here and in other Ipswich churches in the late 1630s, including an attack on 'a conformable minister' (that is to say one faithful to the Bishop) by a mob as well as a stranger who was invited by the town bailiffs to preach a very factious and seditious sermon in Tower church to a large congregation against the authority of the incumbent, who no doubt was held at bay while the ranting went on. As with all the Ipswich churches, the iconoclast William Dowsing was welcomed with open arms by the churchwardens here on his visit of January 1644. Looking around at Phipson's sacramental glory, it is hard to imagine now.
Simon Knott, December 2022
I was asked a few weeks back, if I fancied meeting up with friends, Simon and Cam for a few bears and a crawl round Ipswich.
Seemed a great idea, but checking Network Rain this week, I found that there were replacement buses out of Liverpool Street to Whitham and out of Cambridge. The first added an hour to the trip to Ipswich, the second, 90 minutes.
Jools said she would enjoy a trip out and a walk around Manningtree, so we could go in the car, I would drive up, she would drive back, and we would both have some exercise and I would meet friends.
Perfect.
Although we had planned to go to Tesco first, in the end we had breakfast and set off at half seven, eager to get some miles under our belts before traffic really built at Dartford.
Up the A2 in bright sunshine, it was a great day for travel, but also I thought it might have been good for checking out orchid woods back home. But a change is always good, and it has been nearly 9 years since Simon invited me for a tour round historic Ipswich, showing there was almost as much history there than in Norwich to the north.
Into Essex before nine, and arriving in Ipswich before ten, we decided to find somewhere for breakfast first before going our separate ways.
A large breakfast later, we split up, and I went to wander north to St Margaret's church, which I had been into on that trip 9 years back, but my shots not so good.
I found many interesting places in-between the modern buildings and urban sprawl, timber framed houses, Tudor brick and much more beside.
Sadly, St Margaret was locked. I could see the notice on the porch door, so I didn't go up to see what it said.
I wandered back, found St Mary le Tower open, so went in and took over a hundred shots, soaking in the fine Victorian glass and carved bench ends, even if they were 19th century and not older.
In the south chapel, a group were talking quietly, so I tried not to disturb them, only realising how loud the shutter on the camera was.
The font took my eye first, as it is a well preserved one from the 15th century. Though these are common in East Anglia, not so in deepest Kent, so I snapped it from all directions, recording each mark of the carver's tools.
The clocked ticked round to midday, and so I made my way to the quayside where I was to meet my friends.
Simon lives in Ipswich, but Cam and David had come down on the train from the Fine City. We met at the Briarbank Brewery Tap where I had a couple of mocha porters, which were very nice indeed.
From there we went to the Dove where we had two more beers as well as lunch.
And finally a walk to The Spread Eagle for one final beer before I walked back to Portman Road to meet Jools at the car.
Jools drove us back to the A12, and pointed the car south. As we drove, dusk fell and rain began to fall. Not very pleasant. But at least traffic was light, so in an hour we were on the M25 and twenty minutes later over the river and back in Kent.
Rain fell steadily as we cruised down the M20, past the familiar landmarks until we were back in Dover. Where we had to make a pit stop at M and S, as we needed supplies, and something for supper.
Not sure that garlic bread and wine counts as a meal, but did for us, so at half nine, we climbed the hill to bed.
--------------------------------------------------
Ipswich is the county town of Suffolk, and is also probably the longest continuously occupied town in England. Here on the River Gipping, in the south of the Anglo-Saxon kingdom of East Anglia, a number of 7th Century industrial villages grew together, and since then Ipswich has always been an industrial and commercial town, processing the produce of the land round about, and exporting it up the River Orwell to other parts of England and the continent. It was wealthy in the late medieval period, but it suffered from being cut off from its European markets by the outfall from the Reformation. A strongly puritan town in the 17th Century, a quiet backwater in the 18th Century, it was not until the Industrial Revolution that it rose to commercial prominence again, with heavy industry producing agricultural machinery, vehicles and other ironwork. It would continue to be important industrially until the 1980s, but then most of the factories closed, and the town has not yet recovered.
The townscape is punctuated by church towers and spires, for Ipswich has twelve surviving medieval churches. Remarkably, six of them are still in use, and of these St Mary le Tower is the biggest and most prominent. Its spire rises sixty metres above the rooftops, making it the second tallest building in the town after the Mill apartment block on the Waterfront. There was a church here in 1200, when the Borough of Ipswich came into being in the churchyard by the declaration of the granting of a charter. The medieval church had a spire until it came down in the hurricane of 1661. When the Diocese of Norwich oversaw the restoration of the church in the mid-19th Century the decision was taken for a complete rebuild in stone on the same site. It is almost entirely the work of diocesan surveyor Richard Phipson, who worked on it over a period of twenty years in the 1850s and 1860s, including replacing the spire, and so this is East Anglia's urban Victorian church par excellence. The rebuilding was bankrolled by the wealthy local Bacon banking family. It is a large church, built more or less on the plan of its predecessor, full of the spirit of its age. One could no more imagine Ipswich without the Tower than without the Orwell Bridge.
The length of the church splits the churchyard into two quite separate parts, the south side a public space, the walled north side atmospheric and secretive. The large cross to the south-west of the tower is not a war memorial. It remembers John Patteson, Bishop of Melanesia, murdered by some of his flock in the 1870s. Treated as a martyr by the press of the day, Patteson appears to have had no local connection, but the Pattesons had intermarried with the Cobbolds, an important local family, and Patteson Road by Ipswich docks also remembers him. There never was a north door, and the west doors are beautiful and liturgically correct but perhaps not useful, since they are below street level and the path merely leads round to the south, allowing processions but no access from Tower Street. The flushwork is exuberant, and makes you think that being a flint-knapper must have been a good living in the 1860s. As with the medieval predecessor, the entrance is through the tower which forms a porch on the south side, in common with about thirty other East Anglian churches. Until the 1860s there was a further castellated porch on the south side of the tower, something in the style of the Hadleigh Deanery tower, but this was removed. You can see it in as photograph at the top of this page. And looking at this photograph, it is hard not to think that Phipson retained at least part of the lower stage of the tower.
There is a small statue of the church's patron saint in the niche above the entrance, by the sculptor Richard Pfeiffer. Away to the east, the same sculptor produced St John the Evangelist and St Mary of Magdala on the end of the chancel, and there is more of his work inside. You step into the tower porch under vaulting. A small door in the north-east corner leads up into the ringing chamber and beyond that the belfry, with a ring of twelve bells. The south doorway into the church has stops representing the Annunciation, with the angel to the west, and Mary at her prayer desk to the east. As part of a Millennium project this doorway was painted and gilded. It leads through into the south aisle, beyond which the wide nave seems to swallow all sound, a powerful transition from the outside. Polished wood and tile gleam under coloured light from large windows filled with 19th Century glass. At one time the walls were stencilled, but this was removed in the 1960s. The former church was dark and serious inside, as a drawing in the north aisle shows, so it must have made quite a contrast when the townspeople first entered their new church.
The font by the doorway is the first of a number of significant survivals from the old church. It's one of the 15th Century East Anglian series of which several hundred survive, all slightly different. It is in good condition, and you can't help thinking that this is ironically because Ipswich was a town which embraced protestantism whole-heartedly after the Reformation, and it is likely that the font was plastered over in the mid-16th Century to make it plain and simple. The lions around the pillar stand on human heads, and there are more heads beneath the bowl. The next survival that comes into view is the pair of 15th Century benches at the west end of the nave. The bench ends are clerics holding books, and above them memorable finials depicting two lions, a dragon and what might be a cat or a dog.
The box pews were removed as part of Phipson's restoration and replaced with high quality benches. The front row are the Borough Corporation seats, a mace rest and a sword rest in front of them. The carvings on the ends of the benches are seahorses, the creatures that hold the shield on the Ipswich Borough arms, and on the finials in front are lions holding ships, the crest of the Borough. As you might expect in Ipswich these are by Henry Ringham, whose church carving was always of a high quality, and is perhaps best known at Woolpit and Combs. His workshop on St John's Road employed fifty people at the time of the 1861 census, but by the following year he was bankrupt, and so the work here is likely some of the last that he produced. He died in 1866, and Ringham Road in East Ipswich remembers him.
Moving into the chancel, the other major survival is a collection of late 15th and early 16th Century brasses. Altogether there are ten large figures, but in fact some of them represent the same person more than once. The most memorable is probably that of Alys Baldry, who died in 1507. She lies between her two husbands. The first, Robert Wimbill, is on the right. He died in about 1477. He was a notary, and his ink pot and pen case hang from his belt. Her second husband, Thomas Baldry, is on the left. He died in 1525. He was a merchant, and his merchant mark is set beneath his feet next to Alys's five daughters and four sons.
Alys Baldry, Robert Wimbill and Thomas Baldry are all depicted in further brasses here. The best of these is that to Robert. It was commissioned by his will in the 1470s. He lies on his own with a Latin inscription which translates as 'My hope lies in my heart. Holy Trinity, one God, have mercy on me.' His ink pot and pen case hang from his belt again, and between his feet are a skull and scattered bones, an early memento mori. Thomas Baldry's own brass memorial shows him lying between his two wives, Alys who we have already met, and his second wife Christian. The other group of three figures depicts Thomas Drayll, a merchant, with his wives Margaret and Agnes. Thomas died in 1512. The arms of the Cinque Ports are set above him, and a large merchant mark is beneath his feet. Several inscriptions are missing, and we know that when the iconoclast William Dowsing visited the church on 29th Janary 1644 he ordered the removal of six brass inscriptions with Ora pro nobis ('pray for us') and Ora pro animabus ('pray for our souls'), and Cujus animae propitietur deus ('on whose soul may God have mercy') and pray for the soul in English.
The spectacular sanctuary with its imposing reredos, piscina and sedilia was clearly designed for shadowy, incense-led worship. A lush Arts and Crafts crucifixion surmounts the altar. East Anglian saints flank the walls. James Bettley, revising the Buildings of England volume for East Suffolk, records that it was the work of Somers, Clarke & Micklethwaite in the 1880s. The chancel is only lit from the east window, emphasising the focus from the rest of the church. The set of twelve apostles and twelve angels on the choir stalls are also by Pfeiffer. You can see his signature on the back of St Luke's icon of the Blessed Virgin. This sanctuary is the ultimate expression of late 19th Century Tractarianism in Suffolk. Back in the nave, the early 18th Century pulpit speaks of a different liturgical age, when this church was a preaching house rather than a sacramental space. James Bettley credits its carving to James Hubbard, and notes its similarity to that in the Unitarian Meeting House a few hundred yards off. The 19th Century screen that stood in the chancel arch and separated these two liturgical ages was moved to the east end of the north aisle as an organ screen some time in the 20th Century.
Another screen separates off the Lady Chapel from the south aisle and the chancel. The chapel is a pleasing period piece, furnished sentimentally. The reredos, by Arthur Wallace in 1907, depicts the Supper at Emmaus flanked by Moses and Elijah in an echo of the Transfiguration. The early 20th Century paintings on the south wall are lovely, especially the infant Christ as he plays at the feet of St Joseph. But the overwhelming atmosphere of this church comes from its extensive range of 19th Century glass, the largest collection in Suffolk. It provides a catalogue of some of the major 19th Century workshops over a fairly short period, from the 1850s to the 1880s. Much of it is by Clayton & Bell, who probably received the commission for east and west windows and south aisle as part of Phipson's rebuilding contract. Other major workshops include those of William Wailes, the O'Connors and Lavers, Barraud & Westlake. A small amount of 1840s glass in the north aisle was reset here from the previous church. There are photographs of the glass at the bottom of this page.
As was common in major 19th Century restorations, the memorials that once flanked the walls were collected together and reset at the west end of the nave. At St Mary le Tower this was a major task, for there are a lot of them. The most famous is that to William Smart, MP for Ipswich in the late 16th Century. It is painted on boards. His inscription is a long acrostic, and he kneels at the bottom opposite his wife. between them is a panoramic view of the Ipswich townscape as it was in 1599, the year that he died, a remarkable snapshot of the past. Other memorials include those of the 17th Century when Ipswich was the heartland of firebrand protestant East Anglia. Matthew Lawrence, who died in 1653, was the publike preacher of this towne. There are more memorials in the north chancel aisle, now divided up as vestries. The best of these is to John and Elizabeth Robinson. He died in 1666. They kneel at their prayer desks, and below them are their children Thomas, John, Mary and Elizabeth, who all predeceased their mother. Also here are memorials to a number of the Cobbold family, who were not only important locally but even provided ministers for this church.
There are more Cobbold memorials in the nave, including one in glass at the west end of the north aisle. It is dedicated to Lucy Chevallier Cobbold, and depicts her with her daughter at the Presentation in the Temple. The Cobbold family embraced Tractarianism wholeheartedly, being largely responsible for the building of St Bartholomew near their home at Holywells Park. They probably had an influence over the Bacon family, whose wealth went towards the rebuilding, and whose symbol of a boar can be seen in the floor tiles. A good set of Stuart royal arms hangs above the west doorway.
I can't imagine what the 17th Century parishioners would make of this church if they could come back and see it now. Trevor Cooper, in his edition of The Journals of William Dowsing, recalls that the atmosphere in the town was so strongly puritan that in the 1630s the churchwardens were excommunicated for refusing to carry out the sacramentalist reforms of Archbishop Laud. The reforms demanded that the altar be returned to the chancel and railed in, but this was considered idolatrous by the parishioners. When the visitation commissioners of the Bishop of Norwich came to the church in April 1636 to see if the commands had been carried out, the churchwardens refused to give up the keys... verbally assaulting them and and confronting them with 'musketts charged, swords, staves and other weapons'.
Frank Grace, in his 'Schismaticall and Factious Humours': Opposition in Ipswich to Laudian Church Government, records a number of other incidents both here and in other Ipswich churches in the late 1630s, including an attack on 'a conformable minister' (that is to say one faithful to the Bishop) by a mob as well as a stranger who was invited by the town bailiffs to preach a very factious and seditious sermon in Tower church to a large congregation against the authority of the incumbent, who no doubt was held at bay while the ranting went on. As with all the Ipswich churches, the iconoclast William Dowsing was welcomed with open arms by the churchwardens here on his visit of January 1644. Looking around at Phipson's sacramental glory, it is hard to imagine now.
Simon Knott, December 2022
I was asked a few weeks back, if I fancied meeting up with friends, Simon and Cam for a few bears and a crawl round Ipswich.
Seemed a great idea, but checking Network Rain this week, I found that there were replacement buses out of Liverpool Street to Whitham and out of Cambridge. The first added an hour to the trip to Ipswich, the second, 90 minutes.
Jools said she would enjoy a trip out and a walk around Manningtree, so we could go in the car, I would drive up, she would drive back, and we would both have some exercise and I would meet friends.
Perfect.
Although we had planned to go to Tesco first, in the end we had breakfast and set off at half seven, eager to get some miles under our belts before traffic really built at Dartford.
Up the A2 in bright sunshine, it was a great day for travel, but also I thought it might have been good for checking out orchid woods back home. But a change is always good, and it has been nearly 9 years since Simon invited me for a tour round historic Ipswich, showing there was almost as much history there than in Norwich to the north.
Into Essex before nine, and arriving in Ipswich before ten, we decided to find somewhere for breakfast first before going our separate ways.
A large breakfast later, we split up, and I went to wander north to St Margaret's church, which I had been into on that trip 9 years back, but my shots not so good.
I found many interesting places in-between the modern buildings and urban sprawl, timber framed houses, Tudor brick and much more beside.
Sadly, St Margaret was locked. I could see the notice on the porch door, so I didn't go up to see what it said.
I wandered back, found St Mary le Tower open, so went in and took over a hundred shots, soaking in the fine Victorian glass and carved bench ends, even if they were 19th century and not older.
In the south chapel, a group were talking quietly, so I tried not to disturb them, only realising how loud the shutter on the camera was.
The font took my eye first, as it is a well preserved one from the 15th century. Though these are common in East Anglia, not so in deepest Kent, so I snapped it from all directions, recording each mark of the carver's tools.
The clocked ticked round to midday, and so I made my way to the quayside where I was to meet my friends.
Simon lives in Ipswich, but Cam and David had come down on the train from the Fine City. We met at the Briarbank Brewery Tap where I had a couple of mocha porters, which were very nice indeed.
From there we went to the Dove where we had two more beers as well as lunch.
And finally a walk to The Spread Eagle for one final beer before I walked back to Portman Road to meet Jools at the car.
Jools drove us back to the A12, and pointed the car south. As we drove, dusk fell and rain began to fall. Not very pleasant. But at least traffic was light, so in an hour we were on the M25 and twenty minutes later over the river and back in Kent.
Rain fell steadily as we cruised down the M20, past the familiar landmarks until we were back in Dover. Where we had to make a pit stop at M and S, as we needed supplies, and something for supper.
Not sure that garlic bread and wine counts as a meal, but did for us, so at half nine, we climbed the hill to bed.
--------------------------------------------------
Ipswich is the county town of Suffolk, and is also probably the longest continuously occupied town in England. Here on the River Gipping, in the south of the Anglo-Saxon kingdom of East Anglia, a number of 7th Century industrial villages grew together, and since then Ipswich has always been an industrial and commercial town, processing the produce of the land round about, and exporting it up the River Orwell to other parts of England and the continent. It was wealthy in the late medieval period, but it suffered from being cut off from its European markets by the outfall from the Reformation. A strongly puritan town in the 17th Century, a quiet backwater in the 18th Century, it was not until the Industrial Revolution that it rose to commercial prominence again, with heavy industry producing agricultural machinery, vehicles and other ironwork. It would continue to be important industrially until the 1980s, but then most of the factories closed, and the town has not yet recovered.
The townscape is punctuated by church towers and spires, for Ipswich has twelve surviving medieval churches. Remarkably, six of them are still in use, and of these St Mary le Tower is the biggest and most prominent. Its spire rises sixty metres above the rooftops, making it the second tallest building in the town after the Mill apartment block on the Waterfront. There was a church here in 1200, when the Borough of Ipswich came into being in the churchyard by the declaration of the granting of a charter. The medieval church had a spire until it came down in the hurricane of 1661. When the Diocese of Norwich oversaw the restoration of the church in the mid-19th Century the decision was taken for a complete rebuild in stone on the same site. It is almost entirely the work of diocesan surveyor Richard Phipson, who worked on it over a period of twenty years in the 1850s and 1860s, including replacing the spire, and so this is East Anglia's urban Victorian church par excellence. The rebuilding was bankrolled by the wealthy local Bacon banking family. It is a large church, built more or less on the plan of its predecessor, full of the spirit of its age. One could no more imagine Ipswich without the Tower than without the Orwell Bridge.
The length of the church splits the churchyard into two quite separate parts, the south side a public space, the walled north side atmospheric and secretive. The large cross to the south-west of the tower is not a war memorial. It remembers John Patteson, Bishop of Melanesia, murdered by some of his flock in the 1870s. Treated as a martyr by the press of the day, Patteson appears to have had no local connection, but the Pattesons had intermarried with the Cobbolds, an important local family, and Patteson Road by Ipswich docks also remembers him. There never was a north door, and the west doors are beautiful and liturgically correct but perhaps not useful, since they are below street level and the path merely leads round to the south, allowing processions but no access from Tower Street. The flushwork is exuberant, and makes you think that being a flint-knapper must have been a good living in the 1860s. As with the medieval predecessor, the entrance is through the tower which forms a porch on the south side, in common with about thirty other East Anglian churches. Until the 1860s there was a further castellated porch on the south side of the tower, something in the style of the Hadleigh Deanery tower, but this was removed. You can see it in as photograph at the top of this page. And looking at this photograph, it is hard not to think that Phipson retained at least part of the lower stage of the tower.
There is a small statue of the church's patron saint in the niche above the entrance, by the sculptor Richard Pfeiffer. Away to the east, the same sculptor produced St John the Evangelist and St Mary of Magdala on the end of the chancel, and there is more of his work inside. You step into the tower porch under vaulting. A small door in the north-east corner leads up into the ringing chamber and beyond that the belfry, with a ring of twelve bells. The south doorway into the church has stops representing the Annunciation, with the angel to the west, and Mary at her prayer desk to the east. As part of a Millennium project this doorway was painted and gilded. It leads through into the south aisle, beyond which the wide nave seems to swallow all sound, a powerful transition from the outside. Polished wood and tile gleam under coloured light from large windows filled with 19th Century glass. At one time the walls were stencilled, but this was removed in the 1960s. The former church was dark and serious inside, as a drawing in the north aisle shows, so it must have made quite a contrast when the townspeople first entered their new church.
The font by the doorway is the first of a number of significant survivals from the old church. It's one of the 15th Century East Anglian series of which several hundred survive, all slightly different. It is in good condition, and you can't help thinking that this is ironically because Ipswich was a town which embraced protestantism whole-heartedly after the Reformation, and it is likely that the font was plastered over in the mid-16th Century to make it plain and simple. The lions around the pillar stand on human heads, and there are more heads beneath the bowl. The next survival that comes into view is the pair of 15th Century benches at the west end of the nave. The bench ends are clerics holding books, and above them memorable finials depicting two lions, a dragon and what might be a cat or a dog.
The box pews were removed as part of Phipson's restoration and replaced with high quality benches. The front row are the Borough Corporation seats, a mace rest and a sword rest in front of them. The carvings on the ends of the benches are seahorses, the creatures that hold the shield on the Ipswich Borough arms, and on the finials in front are lions holding ships, the crest of the Borough. As you might expect in Ipswich these are by Henry Ringham, whose church carving was always of a high quality, and is perhaps best known at Woolpit and Combs. His workshop on St John's Road employed fifty people at the time of the 1861 census, but by the following year he was bankrupt, and so the work here is likely some of the last that he produced. He died in 1866, and Ringham Road in East Ipswich remembers him.
Moving into the chancel, the other major survival is a collection of late 15th and early 16th Century brasses. Altogether there are ten large figures, but in fact some of them represent the same person more than once. The most memorable is probably that of Alys Baldry, who died in 1507. She lies between her two husbands. The first, Robert Wimbill, is on the right. He died in about 1477. He was a notary, and his ink pot and pen case hang from his belt. Her second husband, Thomas Baldry, is on the left. He died in 1525. He was a merchant, and his merchant mark is set beneath his feet next to Alys's five daughters and four sons.
Alys Baldry, Robert Wimbill and Thomas Baldry are all depicted in further brasses here. The best of these is that to Robert. It was commissioned by his will in the 1470s. He lies on his own with a Latin inscription which translates as 'My hope lies in my heart. Holy Trinity, one God, have mercy on me.' His ink pot and pen case hang from his belt again, and between his feet are a skull and scattered bones, an early memento mori. Thomas Baldry's own brass memorial shows him lying between his two wives, Alys who we have already met, and his second wife Christian. The other group of three figures depicts Thomas Drayll, a merchant, with his wives Margaret and Agnes. Thomas died in 1512. The arms of the Cinque Ports are set above him, and a large merchant mark is beneath his feet. Several inscriptions are missing, and we know that when the iconoclast William Dowsing visited the church on 29th Janary 1644 he ordered the removal of six brass inscriptions with Ora pro nobis ('pray for us') and Ora pro animabus ('pray for our souls'), and Cujus animae propitietur deus ('on whose soul may God have mercy') and pray for the soul in English.
The spectacular sanctuary with its imposing reredos, piscina and sedilia was clearly designed for shadowy, incense-led worship. A lush Arts and Crafts crucifixion surmounts the altar. East Anglian saints flank the walls. James Bettley, revising the Buildings of England volume for East Suffolk, records that it was the work of Somers, Clarke & Micklethwaite in the 1880s. The chancel is only lit from the east window, emphasising the focus from the rest of the church. The set of twelve apostles and twelve angels on the choir stalls are also by Pfeiffer. You can see his signature on the back of St Luke's icon of the Blessed Virgin. This sanctuary is the ultimate expression of late 19th Century Tractarianism in Suffolk. Back in the nave, the early 18th Century pulpit speaks of a different liturgical age, when this church was a preaching house rather than a sacramental space. James Bettley credits its carving to James Hubbard, and notes its similarity to that in the Unitarian Meeting House a few hundred yards off. The 19th Century screen that stood in the chancel arch and separated these two liturgical ages was moved to the east end of the north aisle as an organ screen some time in the 20th Century.
Another screen separates off the Lady Chapel from the south aisle and the chancel. The chapel is a pleasing period piece, furnished sentimentally. The reredos, by Arthur Wallace in 1907, depicts the Supper at Emmaus flanked by Moses and Elijah in an echo of the Transfiguration. The early 20th Century paintings on the south wall are lovely, especially the infant Christ as he plays at the feet of St Joseph. But the overwhelming atmosphere of this church comes from its extensive range of 19th Century glass, the largest collection in Suffolk. It provides a catalogue of some of the major 19th Century workshops over a fairly short period, from the 1850s to the 1880s. Much of it is by Clayton & Bell, who probably received the commission for east and west windows and south aisle as part of Phipson's rebuilding contract. Other major workshops include those of William Wailes, the O'Connors and Lavers, Barraud & Westlake. A small amount of 1840s glass in the north aisle was reset here from the previous church. There are photographs of the glass at the bottom of this page.
As was common in major 19th Century restorations, the memorials that once flanked the walls were collected together and reset at the west end of the nave. At St Mary le Tower this was a major task, for there are a lot of them. The most famous is that to William Smart, MP for Ipswich in the late 16th Century. It is painted on boards. His inscription is a long acrostic, and he kneels at the bottom opposite his wife. between them is a panoramic view of the Ipswich townscape as it was in 1599, the year that he died, a remarkable snapshot of the past. Other memorials include those of the 17th Century when Ipswich was the heartland of firebrand protestant East Anglia. Matthew Lawrence, who died in 1653, was the publike preacher of this towne. There are more memorials in the north chancel aisle, now divided up as vestries. The best of these is to John and Elizabeth Robinson. He died in 1666. They kneel at their prayer desks, and below them are their children Thomas, John, Mary and Elizabeth, who all predeceased their mother. Also here are memorials to a number of the Cobbold family, who were not only important locally but even provided ministers for this church.
There are more Cobbold memorials in the nave, including one in glass at the west end of the north aisle. It is dedicated to Lucy Chevallier Cobbold, and depicts her with her daughter at the Presentation in the Temple. The Cobbold family embraced Tractarianism wholeheartedly, being largely responsible for the building of St Bartholomew near their home at Holywells Park. They probably had an influence over the Bacon family, whose wealth went towards the rebuilding, and whose symbol of a boar can be seen in the floor tiles. A good set of Stuart royal arms hangs above the west doorway.
I can't imagine what the 17th Century parishioners would make of this church if they could come back and see it now. Trevor Cooper, in his edition of The Journals of William Dowsing, recalls that the atmosphere in the town was so strongly puritan that in the 1630s the churchwardens were excommunicated for refusing to carry out the sacramentalist reforms of Archbishop Laud. The reforms demanded that the altar be returned to the chancel and railed in, but this was considered idolatrous by the parishioners. When the visitation commissioners of the Bishop of Norwich came to the church in April 1636 to see if the commands had been carried out, the churchwardens refused to give up the keys... verbally assaulting them and and confronting them with 'musketts charged, swords, staves and other weapons'.
Frank Grace, in his 'Schismaticall and Factious Humours': Opposition in Ipswich to Laudian Church Government, records a number of other incidents both here and in other Ipswich churches in the late 1630s, including an attack on 'a conformable minister' (that is to say one faithful to the Bishop) by a mob as well as a stranger who was invited by the town bailiffs to preach a very factious and seditious sermon in Tower church to a large congregation against the authority of the incumbent, who no doubt was held at bay while the ranting went on. As with all the Ipswich churches, the iconoclast William Dowsing was welcomed with open arms by the churchwardens here on his visit of January 1644. Looking around at Phipson's sacramental glory, it is hard to imagine now.
Simon Knott, December 2022
I was asked a few weeks back, if I fancied meeting up with friends, Simon and Cam for a few bears and a crawl round Ipswich.
Seemed a great idea, but checking Network Rain this week, I found that there were replacement buses out of Liverpool Street to Whitham and out of Cambridge. The first added an hour to the trip to Ipswich, the second, 90 minutes.
Jools said she would enjoy a trip out and a walk around Manningtree, so we could go in the car, I would drive up, she would drive back, and we would both have some exercise and I would meet friends.
Perfect.
Although we had planned to go to Tesco first, in the end we had breakfast and set off at half seven, eager to get some miles under our belts before traffic really built at Dartford.
Up the A2 in bright sunshine, it was a great day for travel, but also I thought it might have been good for checking out orchid woods back home. But a change is always good, and it has been nearly 9 years since Simon invited me for a tour round historic Ipswich, showing there was almost as much history there than in Norwich to the north.
Into Essex before nine, and arriving in Ipswich before ten, we decided to find somewhere for breakfast first before going our separate ways.
A large breakfast later, we split up, and I went to wander north to St Margaret's church, which I had been into on that trip 9 years back, but my shots not so good.
I found many interesting places in-between the modern buildings and urban sprawl, timber framed houses, Tudor brick and much more beside.
Sadly, St Margaret was locked. I could see the notice on the porch door, so I didn't go up to see what it said.
I wandered back, found St Mary le Tower open, so went in and took over a hundred shots, soaking in the fine Victorian glass and carved bench ends, even if they were 19th century and not older.
In the south chapel, a group were talking quietly, so I tried not to disturb them, only realising how loud the shutter on the camera was.
The font took my eye first, as it is a well preserved one from the 15th century. Though these are common in East Anglia, not so in deepest Kent, so I snapped it from all directions, recording each mark of the carver's tools.
The clocked ticked round to midday, and so I made my way to the quayside where I was to meet my friends.
Simon lives in Ipswich, but Cam and David had come down on the train from the Fine City. We met at the Briarbank Brewery Tap where I had a couple of mocha porters, which were very nice indeed.
From there we went to the Dove where we had two more beers as well as lunch.
And finally a walk to The Spread Eagle for one final beer before I walked back to Portman Road to meet Jools at the car.
Jools drove us back to the A12, and pointed the car south. As we drove, dusk fell and rain began to fall. Not very pleasant. But at least traffic was light, so in an hour we were on the M25 and twenty minutes later over the river and back in Kent.
Rain fell steadily as we cruised down the M20, past the familiar landmarks until we were back in Dover. Where we had to make a pit stop at M and S, as we needed supplies, and something for supper.
Not sure that garlic bread and wine counts as a meal, but did for us, so at half nine, we climbed the hill to bed.
--------------------------------------------------
Ipswich is the county town of Suffolk, and is also probably the longest continuously occupied town in England. Here on the River Gipping, in the south of the Anglo-Saxon kingdom of East Anglia, a number of 7th Century industrial villages grew together, and since then Ipswich has always been an industrial and commercial town, processing the produce of the land round about, and exporting it up the River Orwell to other parts of England and the continent. It was wealthy in the late medieval period, but it suffered from being cut off from its European markets by the outfall from the Reformation. A strongly puritan town in the 17th Century, a quiet backwater in the 18th Century, it was not until the Industrial Revolution that it rose to commercial prominence again, with heavy industry producing agricultural machinery, vehicles and other ironwork. It would continue to be important industrially until the 1980s, but then most of the factories closed, and the town has not yet recovered.
The townscape is punctuated by church towers and spires, for Ipswich has twelve surviving medieval churches. Remarkably, six of them are still in use, and of these St Mary le Tower is the biggest and most prominent. Its spire rises sixty metres above the rooftops, making it the second tallest building in the town after the Mill apartment block on the Waterfront. There was a church here in 1200, when the Borough of Ipswich came into being in the churchyard by the declaration of the granting of a charter. The medieval church had a spire until it came down in the hurricane of 1661. When the Diocese of Norwich oversaw the restoration of the church in the mid-19th Century the decision was taken for a complete rebuild in stone on the same site. It is almost entirely the work of diocesan surveyor Richard Phipson, who worked on it over a period of twenty years in the 1850s and 1860s, including replacing the spire, and so this is East Anglia's urban Victorian church par excellence. The rebuilding was bankrolled by the wealthy local Bacon banking family. It is a large church, built more or less on the plan of its predecessor, full of the spirit of its age. One could no more imagine Ipswich without the Tower than without the Orwell Bridge.
The length of the church splits the churchyard into two quite separate parts, the south side a public space, the walled north side atmospheric and secretive. The large cross to the south-west of the tower is not a war memorial. It remembers John Patteson, Bishop of Melanesia, murdered by some of his flock in the 1870s. Treated as a martyr by the press of the day, Patteson appears to have had no local connection, but the Pattesons had intermarried with the Cobbolds, an important local family, and Patteson Road by Ipswich docks also remembers him. There never was a north door, and the west doors are beautiful and liturgically correct but perhaps not useful, since they are below street level and the path merely leads round to the south, allowing processions but no access from Tower Street. The flushwork is exuberant, and makes you think that being a flint-knapper must have been a good living in the 1860s. As with the medieval predecessor, the entrance is through the tower which forms a porch on the south side, in common with about thirty other East Anglian churches. Until the 1860s there was a further castellated porch on the south side of the tower, something in the style of the Hadleigh Deanery tower, but this was removed. You can see it in as photograph at the top of this page. And looking at this photograph, it is hard not to think that Phipson retained at least part of the lower stage of the tower.
There is a small statue of the church's patron saint in the niche above the entrance, by the sculptor Richard Pfeiffer. Away to the east, the same sculptor produced St John the Evangelist and St Mary of Magdala on the end of the chancel, and there is more of his work inside. You step into the tower porch under vaulting. A small door in the north-east corner leads up into the ringing chamber and beyond that the belfry, with a ring of twelve bells. The south doorway into the church has stops representing the Annunciation, with the angel to the west, and Mary at her prayer desk to the east. As part of a Millennium project this doorway was painted and gilded. It leads through into the south aisle, beyond which the wide nave seems to swallow all sound, a powerful transition from the outside. Polished wood and tile gleam under coloured light from large windows filled with 19th Century glass. At one time the walls were stencilled, but this was removed in the 1960s. The former church was dark and serious inside, as a drawing in the north aisle shows, so it must have made quite a contrast when the townspeople first entered their new church.
The font by the doorway is the first of a number of significant survivals from the old church. It's one of the 15th Century East Anglian series of which several hundred survive, all slightly different. It is in good condition, and you can't help thinking that this is ironically because Ipswich was a town which embraced protestantism whole-heartedly after the Reformation, and it is likely that the font was plastered over in the mid-16th Century to make it plain and simple. The lions around the pillar stand on human heads, and there are more heads beneath the bowl. The next survival that comes into view is the pair of 15th Century benches at the west end of the nave. The bench ends are clerics holding books, and above them memorable finials depicting two lions, a dragon and what might be a cat or a dog.
The box pews were removed as part of Phipson's restoration and replaced with high quality benches. The front row are the Borough Corporation seats, a mace rest and a sword rest in front of them. The carvings on the ends of the benches are seahorses, the creatures that hold the shield on the Ipswich Borough arms, and on the finials in front are lions holding ships, the crest of the Borough. As you might expect in Ipswich these are by Henry Ringham, whose church carving was always of a high quality, and is perhaps best known at Woolpit and Combs. His workshop on St John's Road employed fifty people at the time of the 1861 census, but by the following year he was bankrupt, and so the work here is likely some of the last that he produced. He died in 1866, and Ringham Road in East Ipswich remembers him.
Moving into the chancel, the other major survival is a collection of late 15th and early 16th Century brasses. Altogether there are ten large figures, but in fact some of them represent the same person more than once. The most memorable is probably that of Alys Baldry, who died in 1507. She lies between her two husbands. The first, Robert Wimbill, is on the right. He died in about 1477. He was a notary, and his ink pot and pen case hang from his belt. Her second husband, Thomas Baldry, is on the left. He died in 1525. He was a merchant, and his merchant mark is set beneath his feet next to Alys's five daughters and four sons.
Alys Baldry, Robert Wimbill and Thomas Baldry are all depicted in further brasses here. The best of these is that to Robert. It was commissioned by his will in the 1470s. He lies on his own with a Latin inscription which translates as 'My hope lies in my heart. Holy Trinity, one God, have mercy on me.' His ink pot and pen case hang from his belt again, and between his feet are a skull and scattered bones, an early memento mori. Thomas Baldry's own brass memorial shows him lying between his two wives, Alys who we have already met, and his second wife Christian. The other group of three figures depicts Thomas Drayll, a merchant, with his wives Margaret and Agnes. Thomas died in 1512. The arms of the Cinque Ports are set above him, and a large merchant mark is beneath his feet. Several inscriptions are missing, and we know that when the iconoclast William Dowsing visited the church on 29th Janary 1644 he ordered the removal of six brass inscriptions with Ora pro nobis ('pray for us') and Ora pro animabus ('pray for our souls'), and Cujus animae propitietur deus ('on whose soul may God have mercy') and pray for the soul in English.
The spectacular sanctuary with its imposing reredos, piscina and sedilia was clearly designed for shadowy, incense-led worship. A lush Arts and Crafts crucifixion surmounts the altar. East Anglian saints flank the walls. James Bettley, revising the Buildings of England volume for East Suffolk, records that it was the work of Somers, Clarke & Micklethwaite in the 1880s. The chancel is only lit from the east window, emphasising the focus from the rest of the church. The set of twelve apostles and twelve angels on the choir stalls are also by Pfeiffer. You can see his signature on the back of St Luke's icon of the Blessed Virgin. This sanctuary is the ultimate expression of late 19th Century Tractarianism in Suffolk. Back in the nave, the early 18th Century pulpit speaks of a different liturgical age, when this church was a preaching house rather than a sacramental space. James Bettley credits its carving to James Hubbard, and notes its similarity to that in the Unitarian Meeting House a few hundred yards off. The 19th Century screen that stood in the chancel arch and separated these two liturgical ages was moved to the east end of the north aisle as an organ screen some time in the 20th Century.
Another screen separates off the Lady Chapel from the south aisle and the chancel. The chapel is a pleasing period piece, furnished sentimentally. The reredos, by Arthur Wallace in 1907, depicts the Supper at Emmaus flanked by Moses and Elijah in an echo of the Transfiguration. The early 20th Century paintings on the south wall are lovely, especially the infant Christ as he plays at the feet of St Joseph. But the overwhelming atmosphere of this church comes from its extensive range of 19th Century glass, the largest collection in Suffolk. It provides a catalogue of some of the major 19th Century workshops over a fairly short period, from the 1850s to the 1880s. Much of it is by Clayton & Bell, who probably received the commission for east and west windows and south aisle as part of Phipson's rebuilding contract. Other major workshops include those of William Wailes, the O'Connors and Lavers, Barraud & Westlake. A small amount of 1840s glass in the north aisle was reset here from the previous church. There are photographs of the glass at the bottom of this page.
As was common in major 19th Century restorations, the memorials that once flanked the walls were collected together and reset at the west end of the nave. At St Mary le Tower this was a major task, for there are a lot of them. The most famous is that to William Smart, MP for Ipswich in the late 16th Century. It is painted on boards. His inscription is a long acrostic, and he kneels at the bottom opposite his wife. between them is a panoramic view of the Ipswich townscape as it was in 1599, the year that he died, a remarkable snapshot of the past. Other memorials include those of the 17th Century when Ipswich was the heartland of firebrand protestant East Anglia. Matthew Lawrence, who died in 1653, was the publike preacher of this towne. There are more memorials in the north chancel aisle, now divided up as vestries. The best of these is to John and Elizabeth Robinson. He died in 1666. They kneel at their prayer desks, and below them are their children Thomas, John, Mary and Elizabeth, who all predeceased their mother. Also here are memorials to a number of the Cobbold family, who were not only important locally but even provided ministers for this church.
There are more Cobbold memorials in the nave, including one in glass at the west end of the north aisle. It is dedicated to Lucy Chevallier Cobbold, and depicts her with her daughter at the Presentation in the Temple. The Cobbold family embraced Tractarianism wholeheartedly, being largely responsible for the building of St Bartholomew near their home at Holywells Park. They probably had an influence over the Bacon family, whose wealth went towards the rebuilding, and whose symbol of a boar can be seen in the floor tiles. A good set of Stuart royal arms hangs above the west doorway.
I can't imagine what the 17th Century parishioners would make of this church if they could come back and see it now. Trevor Cooper, in his edition of The Journals of William Dowsing, recalls that the atmosphere in the town was so strongly puritan that in the 1630s the churchwardens were excommunicated for refusing to carry out the sacramentalist reforms of Archbishop Laud. The reforms demanded that the altar be returned to the chancel and railed in, but this was considered idolatrous by the parishioners. When the visitation commissioners of the Bishop of Norwich came to the church in April 1636 to see if the commands had been carried out, the churchwardens refused to give up the keys... verbally assaulting them and and confronting them with 'musketts charged, swords, staves and other weapons'.
Frank Grace, in his 'Schismaticall and Factious Humours': Opposition in Ipswich to Laudian Church Government, records a number of other incidents both here and in other Ipswich churches in the late 1630s, including an attack on 'a conformable minister' (that is to say one faithful to the Bishop) by a mob as well as a stranger who was invited by the town bailiffs to preach a very factious and seditious sermon in Tower church to a large congregation against the authority of the incumbent, who no doubt was held at bay while the ranting went on. As with all the Ipswich churches, the iconoclast William Dowsing was welcomed with open arms by the churchwardens here on his visit of January 1644. Looking around at Phipson's sacramental glory, it is hard to imagine now.
Simon Knott, December 2022
Here is the link to Bell County Museum where the exhibit opens June 6, 2009:
This is what the Gault Dig Site is all about with a link to the University Gault Site Webpage:
www.utexas.edu/research/tarl/research/gault_description.php
Artifacts
Interpreting the Clovis Artifacts from the Gault Site
by Michael B. Collins and Thomas R. Hester
Photographs by Milton Bell.
Clovis, that early Paleolithic Indian cultural horizon generally believed to date between 10,900 and 11,200 years ago across much of North America, has recently come under intensive study by archaeologists. Several factors probably account for this increase in research activity, but the principal one is a result of Clovis having long been accepted as the archaeological evidence of the first people to live in the Americas. This view has often been challenged unsuccessfully, but in the past decade, numerous scholars have brought forth strong and exciting evidence that people were in the Western Hemisphere prior to Clovis times.
"PreClovis," as it has come to be called, is still a controversial topic and one that is being vigorously pursued by linguists, physical anthropologists, human geneticists, and archaeologists. Linguists specializing in the evolution of language are using computers to probe deeply into comparative vocabularies and language structures and are finding that the immense range of languages (some 1500) spoken by American Indians includes a few that seem to have split off from their sister languages of Europe and Asia long before 11,000 years ago. Based on this, some linguists suggest that people came to the New World by 20,000 years ago. Genetics also shows that some American Indians are so distinctive from other populations that their reproductive separation must have occurred in the very remote past, certainly before Clovis times. A drawback with the linguistic and genetic lines of evidence is that while information on timing may be reasonably accurate, there is no way to know where the splits occurred.
Early human skeletons found in the New World, none of them dated definitively to preClovis times, nonetheless indicate some interesting facts about early populations in the Americas. The few human skeletons in the Americas that can be reliably dated as older than 10,000 years before present have features more in common with similar-aged Australian aborigines and South Central Asians than they do with the peoples of Siberia who have always been considered the stock from which the first colonizers of the Americas derived.
Archaeologists have recently found and reported prehistoric sites from Alaska and Canada to southern South America with radiocarbon dates and other compelling evidence that people may have arrived in the New World by 18,000 or 20,000 years ago. One of the most widely discussed of these sites is Monte Verde in southern Chile where a dated occupation of almost 13,000 years ago has gained acceptance among many, but not all, archaeologists. An earlier archaeological stratum at the same site, dated to ca. 30,000 years ago, is still highly controversial.
While Clovis seems to be losing its place as the oldest culture in the New World, important new ideas about the Clovis culture itself are developing. Earlier in this century, most known Clovis sites consisted of places where the distinctive Clovis projectile points (Figure 1) were found with the bones of large mammals, particularly mammoths. Most scholars concluded from this evidence that Clovis peoples were specialized, nomadic mammoth hunters. Recent discoveries and new analytical techniques, however, have shown that Clovis people were generalized hunters and gatherers who lived on everything from turtles and alligators to foxes and opossums along with an occasional mammoth, bison, or horse. The traditional view of Clovis culture has crumbled along with the iron curtain.
American scholars lacking detailed knowledge of the archeology of Siberia have long assumed that the origins of Clovis culture would be found in northeastern Asia. This assumption was a key piece in the prevailing interpretation that 11,500 years ago people migrated out of northeastern Asia, crossed the land bridge that formed between Siberia and Alaska during the last glacial lowering of sea level, and came down an ice-free corridor in western Canada into the vast unpeopled continents of North and South America. Lacking people but rich in big game unaccustomed to human hunters, the New World would have been a hunting people's dream-come-true. Clovis hunters were even thought to have been so effective that they caused the extinction of the mammoth and perhaps other animals.
Since glasnost [openness], it has been possible for archaeologists on both sides of the Bering Sea to collaborate closely on the question of the peopling of the Americas, only to find no clear antecedents for Clovis culture in Siberia. A few archaeologists, this author (Collins) included, have begun to look farther west into Europe for the origins of Clovis and find some very provocative similarities between certain Upper Paleolithic cultures of Western Europe and Clovis. These Paleolithic cultures include the Aurignacian (40,000-20,000 B.P.), Solutrean (20,000-16,000 B.P.), and Magdalenian (16,000-11,000 B.P.).
Some of the better evidence for making those comparisons comes from the Gault Site. To generalize briefly, all of the Upper Paleolithic cultures of Western Europe share the traits of prismatic blades and burins made of flint along with various tools made of bone and antler. The well-known cave paintings of France and Spain are also the work of Upper Paleolithic people. Of more specific interest are (1) blades, blade cores and beveled-base bone and antler points found in Aurignacian sites; (2) large, thin bifaces and spear points of Solutrean affiliation; and (3) less well known aspects of Magdalenian art, including small, flat engraved stones called plaquettes. Some of these traits are shared with Clovis assemblages found widely across North America, some are restricted to only part of the Clovis range, and two are known almost exclusively from the Gault Site. Clovis flint knappers all across North America made the distinctive Clovis fluted points from equally distinctive preforms (Figure 2). One distinctive characteristic of these preforms is that flakes were often driven all the way across the face of the biface from one edge to the other--in fact sometimes even removing the opposite side of the biface in what is called an "overshot" flake (Figure 3). This peculiar fashion of making bifaces is shared with the Solutrean of France and Spain. Even though this pattern is seen in many Clovis sites, a number of outstanding examples have come from the Gault site. Clovis blades (Figure 4) and blade cores (Figure 5) are found abundantly in sites in the southeastern United States, moderately abundantly in Texas sites, and sparsely in the southwestern states and in the Great Plains. They are virtually absent in the northeastern states, around the Great Lakes, and in the far western states. Where they are found, Clovis blades and blade cores resemble similar artifacts from all Upper Paleolithic cultures, but especially those of Aurignacian, Solutrean, and Magdalenian affiliations. The Gault site has yielded the largest assemblages of such Clovis artifacts in Texas and one of the largest in North America.
Beveled-base points of bone and antler, similar to those found in the Aurignacian, have been found in a few Clovis sites on the High Plains, but none has yet been found in Texas. Another distinctive bone artifact, called a shaft wrench, found at a Clovis site in Arizona, is very similar to shaft wrenches of antler and bone from Magdalenian sites in Europe. In the areas of the Gault site investigated thus far, bone preservation has been very poor, and no artifacts of bone or antler have been found.
Clovis-age engraved stones are presently known from only two sites in the western hemisphere besides Gault, one specimen each from the Clovis site in eastern New Mexico and the Wilson-Leonard site just north of Austin. In contrast, at least 30 such stones have been found at the Gault site (Figure 6). Magdalenian engraved plaquettes generally depict animals such as reindeer, mammoths, and horses whereas those from the Gault site are almost exclusively of geometric patterns. However, geometric paintings and engravings are common in Magdalenian art on the walls of caves, especially at Lascaux. Portable art objects in most of the other Upper Paleolithic cultures of Europe are carved, three-dimensional human forms. In the upper Paleolithic of Siberia, similar carved objects depict animals (usually mammoths). These are unlike anything yet reported in Clovis context. All of these comparisons are intriguing, but at the moment they only raise interesting possible interpretations.
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In our view, there are enough similarities and they are close enough in certain details that we have to seriously consider the possibility that fairly close historical ties exist between Clovis and the Upper Paleolithic of western Europe. Details of that history will be learned only after long and intensive research by many investigators. So far, the evidence from preClovis sites in North and South America indicates cultures greatly different than Clovis that do not seem likely candidates as the origin of Clovis. This raises the possibility that peoples were in the Americas before the time of Clovis culture, but that the origins of Clovis may have been in western Europe - perhaps the result of multiple migrations.
Two other aspects of the stone artifacts from the Gault site deserve mention. Lacking direct evidence in the form of preserved plant remains, archeologists have been left to speculate on what uses Clovis peoples may have made of plants. Microscopic use wear study of four Clovis blades reveals that, among other tasks, these were used for cutting grass or other plants rich in silicate (see Inman and Hudler 1998).
Another intriguing problem is developing from comparative study of the lithic tools made by Clovis and Folsom peoples. Folsom (ca. 10,300-10,800 B.P.) is the culture that immediately follows Clovis on the plains and in the southwestern United States. It, too, is best known for its diagnostic fluted biface, the delicate Folsom point. But scholars in the past decade have also identified some very distinctive, thin flint knives, known as "ultrathin" bifaces, that were made and used by Folsom peoples. These highly distinctive ultrathin bifaces (so called because they are between 7 and 13 times as wide as they are thick) have been found at the Gault site (Figure 7). They have also been found at the Wilson-Leonard site as well as a site called Pavo Real (41BX52) in San Antonio. At these three sites, and only these three sites in North America, there is evidence that ultrathin bifaces are older than previously thought. At Gault, they have been found in the same deposits as the Clovis materials, but so far no Folsom points have been documented as having come from that same depth (although there is at least one Folsom point known to be from the site). At Pavo Real, Clovis and Folsom artifacts are found together. It has not been possible to radiocarbon date the Clovis deposits at either Pavo Real or Gault. At Wilson-Leonard, a very early Clovis horizon has been dated (ca. 11,500 to almost 12,000 B.P.) and just above it were found ultrathin bifaces (but no Folsom points) in a deposit dated between 11,000 and 11,500 B.P.). These findings raise the possibility that here in central Texas lie the origins of the distinctive ultrathin biface technology that later became a hallmark of Folsom culture.
It should be obvious from this brief discussion that the Gault site has much to offer scholars who are studying the early cultures of North America. It may well hold some clues to the origins of Clovis culture and the historical relationships between Clovis and Folsom. These are daunting questions and the research required to begin to answer them will take a long time. It will, however, be a most interesting time.
... and I just received this Email from the Executive Director:
Mr. Strain;
I ran across your Flickr posting and would like to thank you for posting the information regarding the Gault School of Archaeological Research.
We have been very impressed by Jim's work - his representation of our dig is incredibly realistic down to the rusted rebar and dirty mason twine! The opening of the exhibit was very well atended with more than 200 peole on Friday and about the same number on Saturday and all expressed their admiration for a first-class exhibit.
Clark
D. Clark Wernecke
Executive Director
The Gault School of Archaeological Research
I was asked a few weeks back, if I fancied meeting up with friends, Simon and Cam for a few bears and a crawl round Ipswich.
Seemed a great idea, but checking Network Rain this week, I found that there were replacement buses out of Liverpool Street to Whitham and out of Cambridge. The first added an hour to the trip to Ipswich, the second, 90 minutes.
Jools said she would enjoy a trip out and a walk around Manningtree, so we could go in the car, I would drive up, she would drive back, and we would both have some exercise and I would meet friends.
Perfect.
Although we had planned to go to Tesco first, in the end we had breakfast and set off at half seven, eager to get some miles under our belts before traffic really built at Dartford.
Up the A2 in bright sunshine, it was a great day for travel, but also I thought it might have been good for checking out orchid woods back home. But a change is always good, and it has been nearly 9 years since Simon invited me for a tour round historic Ipswich, showing there was almost as much history there than in Norwich to the north.
Into Essex before nine, and arriving in Ipswich before ten, we decided to find somewhere for breakfast first before going our separate ways.
A large breakfast later, we split up, and I went to wander north to St Margaret's church, which I had been into on that trip 9 years back, but my shots not so good.
I found many interesting places in-between the modern buildings and urban sprawl, timber framed houses, Tudor brick and much more beside.
Sadly, St Margaret was locked. I could see the notice on the porch door, so I didn't go up to see what it said.
I wandered back, found St Mary le Tower open, so went in and took over a hundred shots, soaking in the fine Victorian glass and carved bench ends, even if they were 19th century and not older.
In the south chapel, a group were talking quietly, so I tried not to disturb them, only realising how loud the shutter on the camera was.
The font took my eye first, as it is a well preserved one from the 15th century. Though these are common in East Anglia, not so in deepest Kent, so I snapped it from all directions, recording each mark of the carver's tools.
The clocked ticked round to midday, and so I made my way to the quayside where I was to meet my friends.
Simon lives in Ipswich, but Cam and David had come down on the train from the Fine City. We met at the Briarbank Brewery Tap where I had a couple of mocha porters, which were very nice indeed.
From there we went to the Dove where we had two more beers as well as lunch.
And finally a walk to The Spread Eagle for one final beer before I walked back to Portman Road to meet Jools at the car.
Jools drove us back to the A12, and pointed the car south. As we drove, dusk fell and rain began to fall. Not very pleasant. But at least traffic was light, so in an hour we were on the M25 and twenty minutes later over the river and back in Kent.
Rain fell steadily as we cruised down the M20, past the familiar landmarks until we were back in Dover. Where we had to make a pit stop at M and S, as we needed supplies, and something for supper.
Not sure that garlic bread and wine counts as a meal, but did for us, so at half nine, we climbed the hill to bed.
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Ipswich is the county town of Suffolk, and is also probably the longest continuously occupied town in England. Here on the River Gipping, in the south of the Anglo-Saxon kingdom of East Anglia, a number of 7th Century industrial villages grew together, and since then Ipswich has always been an industrial and commercial town, processing the produce of the land round about, and exporting it up the River Orwell to other parts of England and the continent. It was wealthy in the late medieval period, but it suffered from being cut off from its European markets by the outfall from the Reformation. A strongly puritan town in the 17th Century, a quiet backwater in the 18th Century, it was not until the Industrial Revolution that it rose to commercial prominence again, with heavy industry producing agricultural machinery, vehicles and other ironwork. It would continue to be important industrially until the 1980s, but then most of the factories closed, and the town has not yet recovered.
The townscape is punctuated by church towers and spires, for Ipswich has twelve surviving medieval churches. Remarkably, six of them are still in use, and of these St Mary le Tower is the biggest and most prominent. Its spire rises sixty metres above the rooftops, making it the second tallest building in the town after the Mill apartment block on the Waterfront. There was a church here in 1200, when the Borough of Ipswich came into being in the churchyard by the declaration of the granting of a charter. The medieval church had a spire until it came down in the hurricane of 1661. When the Diocese of Norwich oversaw the restoration of the church in the mid-19th Century the decision was taken for a complete rebuild in stone on the same site. It is almost entirely the work of diocesan surveyor Richard Phipson, who worked on it over a period of twenty years in the 1850s and 1860s, including replacing the spire, and so this is East Anglia's urban Victorian church par excellence. The rebuilding was bankrolled by the wealthy local Bacon banking family. It is a large church, built more or less on the plan of its predecessor, full of the spirit of its age. One could no more imagine Ipswich without the Tower than without the Orwell Bridge.
The length of the church splits the churchyard into two quite separate parts, the south side a public space, the walled north side atmospheric and secretive. The large cross to the south-west of the tower is not a war memorial. It remembers John Patteson, Bishop of Melanesia, murdered by some of his flock in the 1870s. Treated as a martyr by the press of the day, Patteson appears to have had no local connection, but the Pattesons had intermarried with the Cobbolds, an important local family, and Patteson Road by Ipswich docks also remembers him. There never was a north door, and the west doors are beautiful and liturgically correct but perhaps not useful, since they are below street level and the path merely leads round to the south, allowing processions but no access from Tower Street. The flushwork is exuberant, and makes you think that being a flint-knapper must have been a good living in the 1860s. As with the medieval predecessor, the entrance is through the tower which forms a porch on the south side, in common with about thirty other East Anglian churches. Until the 1860s there was a further castellated porch on the south side of the tower, something in the style of the Hadleigh Deanery tower, but this was removed. You can see it in as photograph at the top of this page. And looking at this photograph, it is hard not to think that Phipson retained at least part of the lower stage of the tower.
There is a small statue of the church's patron saint in the niche above the entrance, by the sculptor Richard Pfeiffer. Away to the east, the same sculptor produced St John the Evangelist and St Mary of Magdala on the end of the chancel, and there is more of his work inside. You step into the tower porch under vaulting. A small door in the north-east corner leads up into the ringing chamber and beyond that the belfry, with a ring of twelve bells. The south doorway into the church has stops representing the Annunciation, with the angel to the west, and Mary at her prayer desk to the east. As part of a Millennium project this doorway was painted and gilded. It leads through into the south aisle, beyond which the wide nave seems to swallow all sound, a powerful transition from the outside. Polished wood and tile gleam under coloured light from large windows filled with 19th Century glass. At one time the walls were stencilled, but this was removed in the 1960s. The former church was dark and serious inside, as a drawing in the north aisle shows, so it must have made quite a contrast when the townspeople first entered their new church.
The font by the doorway is the first of a number of significant survivals from the old church. It's one of the 15th Century East Anglian series of which several hundred survive, all slightly different. It is in good condition, and you can't help thinking that this is ironically because Ipswich was a town which embraced protestantism whole-heartedly after the Reformation, and it is likely that the font was plastered over in the mid-16th Century to make it plain and simple. The lions around the pillar stand on human heads, and there are more heads beneath the bowl. The next survival that comes into view is the pair of 15th Century benches at the west end of the nave. The bench ends are clerics holding books, and above them memorable finials depicting two lions, a dragon and what might be a cat or a dog.
The box pews were removed as part of Phipson's restoration and replaced with high quality benches. The front row are the Borough Corporation seats, a mace rest and a sword rest in front of them. The carvings on the ends of the benches are seahorses, the creatures that hold the shield on the Ipswich Borough arms, and on the finials in front are lions holding ships, the crest of the Borough. As you might expect in Ipswich these are by Henry Ringham, whose church carving was always of a high quality, and is perhaps best known at Woolpit and Combs. His workshop on St John's Road employed fifty people at the time of the 1861 census, but by the following year he was bankrupt, and so the work here is likely some of the last that he produced. He died in 1866, and Ringham Road in East Ipswich remembers him.
Moving into the chancel, the other major survival is a collection of late 15th and early 16th Century brasses. Altogether there are ten large figures, but in fact some of them represent the same person more than once. The most memorable is probably that of Alys Baldry, who died in 1507. She lies between her two husbands. The first, Robert Wimbill, is on the right. He died in about 1477. He was a notary, and his ink pot and pen case hang from his belt. Her second husband, Thomas Baldry, is on the left. He died in 1525. He was a merchant, and his merchant mark is set beneath his feet next to Alys's five daughters and four sons.
Alys Baldry, Robert Wimbill and Thomas Baldry are all depicted in further brasses here. The best of these is that to Robert. It was commissioned by his will in the 1470s. He lies on his own with a Latin inscription which translates as 'My hope lies in my heart. Holy Trinity, one God, have mercy on me.' His ink pot and pen case hang from his belt again, and between his feet are a skull and scattered bones, an early memento mori. Thomas Baldry's own brass memorial shows him lying between his two wives, Alys who we have already met, and his second wife Christian. The other group of three figures depicts Thomas Drayll, a merchant, with his wives Margaret and Agnes. Thomas died in 1512. The arms of the Cinque Ports are set above him, and a large merchant mark is beneath his feet. Several inscriptions are missing, and we know that when the iconoclast William Dowsing visited the church on 29th Janary 1644 he ordered the removal of six brass inscriptions with Ora pro nobis ('pray for us') and Ora pro animabus ('pray for our souls'), and Cujus animae propitietur deus ('on whose soul may God have mercy') and pray for the soul in English.
The spectacular sanctuary with its imposing reredos, piscina and sedilia was clearly designed for shadowy, incense-led worship. A lush Arts and Crafts crucifixion surmounts the altar. East Anglian saints flank the walls. James Bettley, revising the Buildings of England volume for East Suffolk, records that it was the work of Somers, Clarke & Micklethwaite in the 1880s. The chancel is only lit from the east window, emphasising the focus from the rest of the church. The set of twelve apostles and twelve angels on the choir stalls are also by Pfeiffer. You can see his signature on the back of St Luke's icon of the Blessed Virgin. This sanctuary is the ultimate expression of late 19th Century Tractarianism in Suffolk. Back in the nave, the early 18th Century pulpit speaks of a different liturgical age, when this church was a preaching house rather than a sacramental space. James Bettley credits its carving to James Hubbard, and notes its similarity to that in the Unitarian Meeting House a few hundred yards off. The 19th Century screen that stood in the chancel arch and separated these two liturgical ages was moved to the east end of the north aisle as an organ screen some time in the 20th Century.
Another screen separates off the Lady Chapel from the south aisle and the chancel. The chapel is a pleasing period piece, furnished sentimentally. The reredos, by Arthur Wallace in 1907, depicts the Supper at Emmaus flanked by Moses and Elijah in an echo of the Transfiguration. The early 20th Century paintings on the south wall are lovely, especially the infant Christ as he plays at the feet of St Joseph. But the overwhelming atmosphere of this church comes from its extensive range of 19th Century glass, the largest collection in Suffolk. It provides a catalogue of some of the major 19th Century workshops over a fairly short period, from the 1850s to the 1880s. Much of it is by Clayton & Bell, who probably received the commission for east and west windows and south aisle as part of Phipson's rebuilding contract. Other major workshops include those of William Wailes, the O'Connors and Lavers, Barraud & Westlake. A small amount of 1840s glass in the north aisle was reset here from the previous church. There are photographs of the glass at the bottom of this page.
As was common in major 19th Century restorations, the memorials that once flanked the walls were collected together and reset at the west end of the nave. At St Mary le Tower this was a major task, for there are a lot of them. The most famous is that to William Smart, MP for Ipswich in the late 16th Century. It is painted on boards. His inscription is a long acrostic, and he kneels at the bottom opposite his wife. between them is a panoramic view of the Ipswich townscape as it was in 1599, the year that he died, a remarkable snapshot of the past. Other memorials include those of the 17th Century when Ipswich was the heartland of firebrand protestant East Anglia. Matthew Lawrence, who died in 1653, was the publike preacher of this towne. There are more memorials in the north chancel aisle, now divided up as vestries. The best of these is to John and Elizabeth Robinson. He died in 1666. They kneel at their prayer desks, and below them are their children Thomas, John, Mary and Elizabeth, who all predeceased their mother. Also here are memorials to a number of the Cobbold family, who were not only important locally but even provided ministers for this church.
There are more Cobbold memorials in the nave, including one in glass at the west end of the north aisle. It is dedicated to Lucy Chevallier Cobbold, and depicts her with her daughter at the Presentation in the Temple. The Cobbold family embraced Tractarianism wholeheartedly, being largely responsible for the building of St Bartholomew near their home at Holywells Park. They probably had an influence over the Bacon family, whose wealth went towards the rebuilding, and whose symbol of a boar can be seen in the floor tiles. A good set of Stuart royal arms hangs above the west doorway.
I can't imagine what the 17th Century parishioners would make of this church if they could come back and see it now. Trevor Cooper, in his edition of The Journals of William Dowsing, recalls that the atmosphere in the town was so strongly puritan that in the 1630s the churchwardens were excommunicated for refusing to carry out the sacramentalist reforms of Archbishop Laud. The reforms demanded that the altar be returned to the chancel and railed in, but this was considered idolatrous by the parishioners. When the visitation commissioners of the Bishop of Norwich came to the church in April 1636 to see if the commands had been carried out, the churchwardens refused to give up the keys... verbally assaulting them and and confronting them with 'musketts charged, swords, staves and other weapons'.
Frank Grace, in his 'Schismaticall and Factious Humours': Opposition in Ipswich to Laudian Church Government, records a number of other incidents both here and in other Ipswich churches in the late 1630s, including an attack on 'a conformable minister' (that is to say one faithful to the Bishop) by a mob as well as a stranger who was invited by the town bailiffs to preach a very factious and seditious sermon in Tower church to a large congregation against the authority of the incumbent, who no doubt was held at bay while the ranting went on. As with all the Ipswich churches, the iconoclast William Dowsing was welcomed with open arms by the churchwardens here on his visit of January 1644. Looking around at Phipson's sacramental glory, it is hard to imagine now.
Simon Knott, December 2022
I was asked a few weeks back, if I fancied meeting up with friends, Simon and Cam for a few bears and a crawl round Ipswich.
Seemed a great idea, but checking Network Rain this week, I found that there were replacement buses out of Liverpool Street to Whitham and out of Cambridge. The first added an hour to the trip to Ipswich, the second, 90 minutes.
Jools said she would enjoy a trip out and a walk around Manningtree, so we could go in the car, I would drive up, she would drive back, and we would both have some exercise and I would meet friends.
Perfect.
Although we had planned to go to Tesco first, in the end we had breakfast and set off at half seven, eager to get some miles under our belts before traffic really built at Dartford.
Up the A2 in bright sunshine, it was a great day for travel, but also I thought it might have been good for checking out orchid woods back home. But a change is always good, and it has been nearly 9 years since Simon invited me for a tour round historic Ipswich, showing there was almost as much history there than in Norwich to the north.
Into Essex before nine, and arriving in Ipswich before ten, we decided to find somewhere for breakfast first before going our separate ways.
A large breakfast later, we split up, and I went to wander north to St Margaret's church, which I had been into on that trip 9 years back, but my shots not so good.
I found many interesting places in-between the modern buildings and urban sprawl, timber framed houses, Tudor brick and much more beside.
Sadly, St Margaret was locked. I could see the notice on the porch door, so I didn't go up to see what it said.
I wandered back, found St Mary le Tower open, so went in and took over a hundred shots, soaking in the fine Victorian glass and carved bench ends, even if they were 19th century and not older.
In the south chapel, a group were talking quietly, so I tried not to disturb them, only realising how loud the shutter on the camera was.
The font took my eye first, as it is a well preserved one from the 15th century. Though these are common in East Anglia, not so in deepest Kent, so I snapped it from all directions, recording each mark of the carver's tools.
The clocked ticked round to midday, and so I made my way to the quayside where I was to meet my friends.
Simon lives in Ipswich, but Cam and David had come down on the train from the Fine City. We met at the Briarbank Brewery Tap where I had a couple of mocha porters, which were very nice indeed.
From there we went to the Dove where we had two more beers as well as lunch.
And finally a walk to The Spread Eagle for one final beer before I walked back to Portman Road to meet Jools at the car.
Jools drove us back to the A12, and pointed the car south. As we drove, dusk fell and rain began to fall. Not very pleasant. But at least traffic was light, so in an hour we were on the M25 and twenty minutes later over the river and back in Kent.
Rain fell steadily as we cruised down the M20, past the familiar landmarks until we were back in Dover. Where we had to make a pit stop at M and S, as we needed supplies, and something for supper.
Not sure that garlic bread and wine counts as a meal, but did for us, so at half nine, we climbed the hill to bed.
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Ipswich is the county town of Suffolk, and is also probably the longest continuously occupied town in England. Here on the River Gipping, in the south of the Anglo-Saxon kingdom of East Anglia, a number of 7th Century industrial villages grew together, and since then Ipswich has always been an industrial and commercial town, processing the produce of the land round about, and exporting it up the River Orwell to other parts of England and the continent. It was wealthy in the late medieval period, but it suffered from being cut off from its European markets by the outfall from the Reformation. A strongly puritan town in the 17th Century, a quiet backwater in the 18th Century, it was not until the Industrial Revolution that it rose to commercial prominence again, with heavy industry producing agricultural machinery, vehicles and other ironwork. It would continue to be important industrially until the 1980s, but then most of the factories closed, and the town has not yet recovered.
The townscape is punctuated by church towers and spires, for Ipswich has twelve surviving medieval churches. Remarkably, six of them are still in use, and of these St Mary le Tower is the biggest and most prominent. Its spire rises sixty metres above the rooftops, making it the second tallest building in the town after the Mill apartment block on the Waterfront. There was a church here in 1200, when the Borough of Ipswich came into being in the churchyard by the declaration of the granting of a charter. The medieval church had a spire until it came down in the hurricane of 1661. When the Diocese of Norwich oversaw the restoration of the church in the mid-19th Century the decision was taken for a complete rebuild in stone on the same site. It is almost entirely the work of diocesan surveyor Richard Phipson, who worked on it over a period of twenty years in the 1850s and 1860s, including replacing the spire, and so this is East Anglia's urban Victorian church par excellence. The rebuilding was bankrolled by the wealthy local Bacon banking family. It is a large church, built more or less on the plan of its predecessor, full of the spirit of its age. One could no more imagine Ipswich without the Tower than without the Orwell Bridge.
The length of the church splits the churchyard into two quite separate parts, the south side a public space, the walled north side atmospheric and secretive. The large cross to the south-west of the tower is not a war memorial. It remembers John Patteson, Bishop of Melanesia, murdered by some of his flock in the 1870s. Treated as a martyr by the press of the day, Patteson appears to have had no local connection, but the Pattesons had intermarried with the Cobbolds, an important local family, and Patteson Road by Ipswich docks also remembers him. There never was a north door, and the west doors are beautiful and liturgically correct but perhaps not useful, since they are below street level and the path merely leads round to the south, allowing processions but no access from Tower Street. The flushwork is exuberant, and makes you think that being a flint-knapper must have been a good living in the 1860s. As with the medieval predecessor, the entrance is through the tower which forms a porch on the south side, in common with about thirty other East Anglian churches. Until the 1860s there was a further castellated porch on the south side of the tower, something in the style of the Hadleigh Deanery tower, but this was removed. You can see it in as photograph at the top of this page. And looking at this photograph, it is hard not to think that Phipson retained at least part of the lower stage of the tower.
There is a small statue of the church's patron saint in the niche above the entrance, by the sculptor Richard Pfeiffer. Away to the east, the same sculptor produced St John the Evangelist and St Mary of Magdala on the end of the chancel, and there is more of his work inside. You step into the tower porch under vaulting. A small door in the north-east corner leads up into the ringing chamber and beyond that the belfry, with a ring of twelve bells. The south doorway into the church has stops representing the Annunciation, with the angel to the west, and Mary at her prayer desk to the east. As part of a Millennium project this doorway was painted and gilded. It leads through into the south aisle, beyond which the wide nave seems to swallow all sound, a powerful transition from the outside. Polished wood and tile gleam under coloured light from large windows filled with 19th Century glass. At one time the walls were stencilled, but this was removed in the 1960s. The former church was dark and serious inside, as a drawing in the north aisle shows, so it must have made quite a contrast when the townspeople first entered their new church.
The font by the doorway is the first of a number of significant survivals from the old church. It's one of the 15th Century East Anglian series of which several hundred survive, all slightly different. It is in good condition, and you can't help thinking that this is ironically because Ipswich was a town which embraced protestantism whole-heartedly after the Reformation, and it is likely that the font was plastered over in the mid-16th Century to make it plain and simple. The lions around the pillar stand on human heads, and there are more heads beneath the bowl. The next survival that comes into view is the pair of 15th Century benches at the west end of the nave. The bench ends are clerics holding books, and above them memorable finials depicting two lions, a dragon and what might be a cat or a dog.
The box pews were removed as part of Phipson's restoration and replaced with high quality benches. The front row are the Borough Corporation seats, a mace rest and a sword rest in front of them. The carvings on the ends of the benches are seahorses, the creatures that hold the shield on the Ipswich Borough arms, and on the finials in front are lions holding ships, the crest of the Borough. As you might expect in Ipswich these are by Henry Ringham, whose church carving was always of a high quality, and is perhaps best known at Woolpit and Combs. His workshop on St John's Road employed fifty people at the time of the 1861 census, but by the following year he was bankrupt, and so the work here is likely some of the last that he produced. He died in 1866, and Ringham Road in East Ipswich remembers him.
Moving into the chancel, the other major survival is a collection of late 15th and early 16th Century brasses. Altogether there are ten large figures, but in fact some of them represent the same person more than once. The most memorable is probably that of Alys Baldry, who died in 1507. She lies between her two husbands. The first, Robert Wimbill, is on the right. He died in about 1477. He was a notary, and his ink pot and pen case hang from his belt. Her second husband, Thomas Baldry, is on the left. He died in 1525. He was a merchant, and his merchant mark is set beneath his feet next to Alys's five daughters and four sons.
Alys Baldry, Robert Wimbill and Thomas Baldry are all depicted in further brasses here. The best of these is that to Robert. It was commissioned by his will in the 1470s. He lies on his own with a Latin inscription which translates as 'My hope lies in my heart. Holy Trinity, one God, have mercy on me.' His ink pot and pen case hang from his belt again, and between his feet are a skull and scattered bones, an early memento mori. Thomas Baldry's own brass memorial shows him lying between his two wives, Alys who we have already met, and his second wife Christian. The other group of three figures depicts Thomas Drayll, a merchant, with his wives Margaret and Agnes. Thomas died in 1512. The arms of the Cinque Ports are set above him, and a large merchant mark is beneath his feet. Several inscriptions are missing, and we know that when the iconoclast William Dowsing visited the church on 29th Janary 1644 he ordered the removal of six brass inscriptions with Ora pro nobis ('pray for us') and Ora pro animabus ('pray for our souls'), and Cujus animae propitietur deus ('on whose soul may God have mercy') and pray for the soul in English.
The spectacular sanctuary with its imposing reredos, piscina and sedilia was clearly designed for shadowy, incense-led worship. A lush Arts and Crafts crucifixion surmounts the altar. East Anglian saints flank the walls. James Bettley, revising the Buildings of England volume for East Suffolk, records that it was the work of Somers, Clarke & Micklethwaite in the 1880s. The chancel is only lit from the east window, emphasising the focus from the rest of the church. The set of twelve apostles and twelve angels on the choir stalls are also by Pfeiffer. You can see his signature on the back of St Luke's icon of the Blessed Virgin. This sanctuary is the ultimate expression of late 19th Century Tractarianism in Suffolk. Back in the nave, the early 18th Century pulpit speaks of a different liturgical age, when this church was a preaching house rather than a sacramental space. James Bettley credits its carving to James Hubbard, and notes its similarity to that in the Unitarian Meeting House a few hundred yards off. The 19th Century screen that stood in the chancel arch and separated these two liturgical ages was moved to the east end of the north aisle as an organ screen some time in the 20th Century.
Another screen separates off the Lady Chapel from the south aisle and the chancel. The chapel is a pleasing period piece, furnished sentimentally. The reredos, by Arthur Wallace in 1907, depicts the Supper at Emmaus flanked by Moses and Elijah in an echo of the Transfiguration. The early 20th Century paintings on the south wall are lovely, especially the infant Christ as he plays at the feet of St Joseph. But the overwhelming atmosphere of this church comes from its extensive range of 19th Century glass, the largest collection in Suffolk. It provides a catalogue of some of the major 19th Century workshops over a fairly short period, from the 1850s to the 1880s. Much of it is by Clayton & Bell, who probably received the commission for east and west windows and south aisle as part of Phipson's rebuilding contract. Other major workshops include those of William Wailes, the O'Connors and Lavers, Barraud & Westlake. A small amount of 1840s glass in the north aisle was reset here from the previous church. There are photographs of the glass at the bottom of this page.
As was common in major 19th Century restorations, the memorials that once flanked the walls were collected together and reset at the west end of the nave. At St Mary le Tower this was a major task, for there are a lot of them. The most famous is that to William Smart, MP for Ipswich in the late 16th Century. It is painted on boards. His inscription is a long acrostic, and he kneels at the bottom opposite his wife. between them is a panoramic view of the Ipswich townscape as it was in 1599, the year that he died, a remarkable snapshot of the past. Other memorials include those of the 17th Century when Ipswich was the heartland of firebrand protestant East Anglia. Matthew Lawrence, who died in 1653, was the publike preacher of this towne. There are more memorials in the north chancel aisle, now divided up as vestries. The best of these is to John and Elizabeth Robinson. He died in 1666. They kneel at their prayer desks, and below them are their children Thomas, John, Mary and Elizabeth, who all predeceased their mother. Also here are memorials to a number of the Cobbold family, who were not only important locally but even provided ministers for this church.
There are more Cobbold memorials in the nave, including one in glass at the west end of the north aisle. It is dedicated to Lucy Chevallier Cobbold, and depicts her with her daughter at the Presentation in the Temple. The Cobbold family embraced Tractarianism wholeheartedly, being largely responsible for the building of St Bartholomew near their home at Holywells Park. They probably had an influence over the Bacon family, whose wealth went towards the rebuilding, and whose symbol of a boar can be seen in the floor tiles. A good set of Stuart royal arms hangs above the west doorway.
I can't imagine what the 17th Century parishioners would make of this church if they could come back and see it now. Trevor Cooper, in his edition of The Journals of William Dowsing, recalls that the atmosphere in the town was so strongly puritan that in the 1630s the churchwardens were excommunicated for refusing to carry out the sacramentalist reforms of Archbishop Laud. The reforms demanded that the altar be returned to the chancel and railed in, but this was considered idolatrous by the parishioners. When the visitation commissioners of the Bishop of Norwich came to the church in April 1636 to see if the commands had been carried out, the churchwardens refused to give up the keys... verbally assaulting them and and confronting them with 'musketts charged, swords, staves and other weapons'.
Frank Grace, in his 'Schismaticall and Factious Humours': Opposition in Ipswich to Laudian Church Government, records a number of other incidents both here and in other Ipswich churches in the late 1630s, including an attack on 'a conformable minister' (that is to say one faithful to the Bishop) by a mob as well as a stranger who was invited by the town bailiffs to preach a very factious and seditious sermon in Tower church to a large congregation against the authority of the incumbent, who no doubt was held at bay while the ranting went on. As with all the Ipswich churches, the iconoclast William Dowsing was welcomed with open arms by the churchwardens here on his visit of January 1644. Looking around at Phipson's sacramental glory, it is hard to imagine now.
Simon Knott, December 2022
Flint-knapped arrowhead ("Nellie Blue Flint") from the Pennsylvanian of Ohio, USA. (~6.6 centimeters tall; modern replica)
"Flint" is the official gemstone of Ohio. Flint is actually chert (the two terms are synonymous, despite what anyone else might say), a cryptocrystalline, quartzose sedimentary rock. High-quality, colorful, multicolored, and multipatterned flint is moderately common at some Ohio localities. A couple famous flint occurrences in east-central Ohio include the Vanport Flint at Flint Ridge and Nellie Blue Flint in Coshocton County.
Nellie Blue Flint is essentially restricted to the Nellie area of northwestern Coshocton County. It consists of attractive, frequently complexly-patterned, dark bluish to bluish-black chert. Fractures and cavities (vugs) are often present and have been filled or nearly filled with pale bluish-gray chalcedony and/or megaquartz (= visible hexagonal quartz crystals). Body fossils and trace fossils can be present.
Nellie Blue is a local color variant of the Upper Mercer Flint, which is usually a black flint with whitish speckles (= often body fossils and fossil fragments). The Upper Mercer Flint is a somewhat persistent horizon of chertified marine fossiliferous limestone in east-central and eastern Ohio called the Upper Mercer Limestone.
Flint knappers often call this material "Coshocton Flint".
Stratigraphy: Upper Mercer Flint (= chertified Upper Mercer Limestone), upper Bedford Cyclothem, upper Pottsville Group, Atokan Series, lower Middle Pennsylvanian
Locality: undisclosed site about halfway between the towns of Warsaw and Nellie, northwestern Coshocton County, east-central Ohio, USA
Wessex Archaeology employs several staff members who are flint knappers. This is a replica (modern) arrowhead sitting in the flake scar it came from.
All I wanted was a good drink. I was hot, foot-sore and being near to one in the afternoon, needing refreshment.
Some young ladies wanting cocktails meant a bit of a wait, and I attracted the usual idiot at the bar wanting to talk ablout ca,eras as he saw mine.
Thankfully, he got bored and went to talk to a bloke about tools, if I remember rightly.
Good beer though
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So, why were we in Norwich in April? There wasn't a beer festival, but there was a festival of another kind. But first, some background:
Before the industrial revolution, Norwich was England's second city. growing rick on income from the wool and fabric trade. Worsted is named after a village to the north of the city, and it was that cloth that really made the area rich. Merchants built houses, mansions, warehouses and then there were the churches.
The city was crammed with churches, my Grandfather used to say there was a church for each week of the year, and a pub for each day. Not sure if that is true, but I can confirm that in places churches are virtually next to each other, and one street had 5 churches alone. And the churches were built of the local stone; or flint in this case, so are dark but sparkle. Knappers shaped the flints to fabulous shapes, to create works of art.
East Anglia is lacking in the raw materials for the industrial revolution, so the 19th century passed it by, but the medieval street, buildings, houses and churches survived. And so is a glorious legacy for the city. But the sheer number of churches of historical importance is also a millstone; so many to upkeep and repair, and some fell by the wayside. And as the city's people became less religious, many were no longer needed, so fell into disrepair, or were used for other things. And in doing so, some became closed to the public, and so were dark shadows on the side of the city streets.
I have many friends who were frustrated at not being able to see inside any more, and then out of the blue when I was in Norfolk before Christmas, I was reading the EDP and saw that there was a church festival being planned. I made a note of the date, and once I found their website, I kept looking, and once all the details was confirmed, Jools and I booked two nights in a hotel, and so were going to make a weekend out of it. For a change, I had planned the day out very much like a military operation. I downloaded the guide, and annotated the map showing all the churches with opening times, so had a route marked out, with the churches opening from 8 in the morning. Jools wasn't going to walk round the city for eight hours, instead she was going to a bead shop near to Ely again, meaning I could indulge myself fully. And maybe have a pint or two of ale during the day too.
Which is what I was laying in a bed in Norwich, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling at just before six on a bright Saturday morning. Birds had been singing outside the window for nearly two hours, and I could hear bells ringing over the city as the hour was marked.
We got up and showered, and were down in the breakfast room dead on half seven, as we both wanted to get on with our days. There was musli followed by a fry up and then toast and jams. And coffee. We filled our boots, even if the scrambled eggs came fried instead. Just as well maybe.....
Jools left in the car at quarter past eight, and I soon followed on foot, walking along to the railway station, cutting through the forecourt and over the main road before crossing the River Wensum on the new footbridge. Oddly, I was followed by a tame squirrel for a while, and he was still behind me as I crossed the quiet lane and into the passageway leading to St Julian's.
St Julian was a famous anchorite who lived in the 14th century, and locked herself away in a cell beside the church, and over her life became a mystic and theologian, writing the first book in English by a woman.
The church where she lived was near to the hotel, and being the first to open that day, it was my port of call. Like many city churches, it is found among houses, although in this case, modern, and one of the main roads to the old cattle market runs a few yards away, but at half eight on a Saturday morning, it was calm and peaceful, and I had the church to myself. I guess I was disappointed that her cell has long since gone, and been replaced by a small chapel. Only to be expected I suppose, but I had found a church in Kent a few months back that still had the squint in the wall from an anchorite cell, though the identity of who lived there was not known.
After getting my shots, I check my map, and decide that the next church, St John Timberhill. St John I had passed hundreds of times, but in recent years, maybe I was just unlucky, but never found it unlocked, but as promised it was open when I arrived on the stroke of nine, after climbing up Rouen Road and then crossing the main road.
The church now nestles in a corner of Castle Mall at the top of Timber Hill, and ancient cobbled street. Opposite its entrance, there are upmarket furniture shops and fashion stores, and on the other side fo Cattle Market Street, the Woolpack pub sits, where back in the 80s, I used to have lunch with Mum and Dad before going to the football.
I meet a man coming out of the church, he had slept inside that night and asked me for money. He held out his dirty hand, and I wondered what his life story was, how someone can end up like this. Maybe the failure of care in the community, I don't know. I give him a pound, and he pushes for another, but I need change for offerings at each of the churches I plan to visit. He leaves, and I have the church to myself again.
I would have liked to stay and take in the church, but the clock was ticking, so after getting the shots again, I consult the map and St Michael at Plea opened at nine, and was just a short walk away through Tombland. I check St George and St Peter Hungate on the way, and were both still locked.
St Michael is now a bookshop and Christian Resource centre, which explains where vicars and priests get their shirts and candles from. There isn't much to see, but I take a couple of shots inside, and of the monuments on the wall. And can move on.
Down Wensum Street and past the Ribs of Beef on the junction of Colegate stands St Clement the Martyr. I have also walked past this many, many times, and wondered what was inside. But nothing was to prepare me for what I found, as the church is now home to the Guild of Stonemasons, and inside the church has been converted to a ramshackle collection of offices and work areas, and a library. There are also displays of stonework on show too. Also visiting was a side of Morris Dances, and their jingling bells could be heard if they even moved their arm, so walking was like being surrounded by Christmas Elves.
Again, it was hard to snap details, but also with colourful banners hanging down and a large paier mache dragons head on display, it was memorable.
I go to the coffee shop offpiste to recharge with caffeine, and to check the map. There was a round route could go to take in some of the outer lying churches, so with the route planned, I set off down unfamiliar lanes and streets, twisting and turning.
St Martin at Oak lies down a quiet street now, but in the past was next to a huge shoe factory, which is now being converted in an arts centre, or so it seemed to me. Anyway, St Martin is now a music academy, and previously had been a hostel for homeless people, so has undergone major reworking since it was a church. But it is till covered in memorials, and was manned by two very knowledgeable volunteers who delighted in taking me to the rear half of the church which is usually out of bounds. We talk for a while, but in truth, with the clock ticking I was thinking about my next target, St Augustine
St Augustine was a good ten minute hike away, over the inner ringroad and then up another main road. It was so far out, it wasn't on the map, just indicated its existence by an arrow and the legend: here be dragons. Not really.
It was quite a chunk out of the day to get here, so hoped it would be worth it, but when I arrived, I found both doors locked and no sign of life. I was disappointed, but there was a sign saying a key could be obtained opposite, so I go to the opticians, and ask, and was given the key.
Back in the church, all was quiet and cool, as outside the traffic jumped.
I retraced my steps to the ringroad, then through the subway to the other side, taking a shortcut through a warren of lanes and passages, ending up at Magdalen Street for my next target, St Saviours.
It is now a theatre, and once inside it is easy to forget its origins, but then all around are memorials still on the wall. I am welcomed by the volunteers, and indeed meet the person who arranged the whole event, and is very happy to learn I came from Dover just to attend the event.
From now on, most of the churches would be close together, so I could really start racking up those numbers. And shots.
A ten minute walk away, and back towards the Cathedral, is St George Tombland. Another one I had passed many times, and one I had been itching to see inside. On the way I see St Peter is open too, so it was all coming together.
Inside St George, it was packed, as a guided tour was just leaving, so I could listen in for all the interesting parts of the church were described. There were banners, another paier mache dragon, and a St George too, and yet more great people who were only too happy to help out and answer questions.
Flint is a hard sedimentary rock, occurring naturally in nodules and masses within softer sedimentary rocks such as limestones and chalks, where it is probably formed by geologic compression. Flint was used in the manufacture of tools and weapons during the Stone Age, as it splits readily into thin, sharp splinters called flakes or blades (depending on the shape) when struck by another hard object (such as a “hammerstone” made of another material). This process is referred to as knapping. Knapping is the shaping of flint, chert, obsidian, and similar types of stone through the process of “lithic reduction” –
a technical term for the controlled fracturing of the stone, followed by the careful, systematic removal of excess material to create a desired form and provide it with one or more cutting edges.
The specific characteristics of each piece of flint help determine what objects can be produced from it, so to a certain degree the stone itself dictates the precise form each object made from it will take. Methods of working flint and similar stones for making weapons and tools are among the earliest technologies developed by prehistoric humans. Flintknapping was probably among the earliest specialized work activities, as it requires a high level of skill and training.
Flintknapping involves the use of specialized handmade tools, as well as considerable expertise. Early knappers could have used simple hammers made of stone, wood or bone to shape flint objects. The first stage of flintknapping usually involves hard hammering with another type of hard stone to split the flint nodule into smaller flakes and blades. Each of these pieces can then be worked with more precise soft hammering techniques to shape the object’s overall form. Finally, blade edges can be sharpened or serrated through carefully controlled pressure flaking using wood or antler points.
As a valuable resource, flint was traded from its sources to other areas lacking this material. The importance of achieving form and balance in a finished blade or projectile point may have taught prehistoric humans to value characteristics such as symmetry, or even the aesthetic pleasure -- as well as the functional value -- of a curvilinear forms.
This flint knife was created by expert flintknapper Harold Elam. The tapered blade is made of material from the Flint Ridge deposits in southern Ohio. It has been attached with sinew to a handle fashioned from deer antler. While this example is not intended as a copy of any specific ancient prototype, in form and materials it is similar to Paleo-Indian knives produced by the Hopewell Culture during the early First Millennium.
See MCAD Library's catalog record for this material.
Flint-knapped arrowhead. (~6.2 centimeters from top to bottom)
Knapper: Chris Miller
Flint is the "official" state gemstone of Ohio (actually, there's no such thing as "official" anything). "Flint" is sometimes used as a lithologic term by modern geologists, but it is a synonym for chert. Flint and chert are the same - they are cryptocrystalline, quartzose sedimentary rocks. Rockhounds often assert that flint is high-quality while chert is low-quality. Some geologists assert that "flint" implies a biogenic origin and "chert" implies a chemical origin.
Many cherts do have a chemical origin - chert nodules are moderately common in some limestone units. The nodules form during diagenesis - pre-existing silica components in the carbonate sediments are dissolved, mobilized, and reprecipitated as chert masses. Some cherts do have a biogenic origin - for example, radiolarian cherts (rich in radiolarian microfossils) or spicular cherts (rich in siliceous sponge spicules).
The most famous flint deposit in Ohio is Flint Ridge, in Licking County. At this locality, the Middle Pennsylvanian-aged Vanport Flint is exposed in several places. The geologic literature on the Vanport Flint is relatively sparse, with inaccurate, incomplete descriptions and characterizations. For example, the literature describes the Vanport as a sheet of flint at Flint Ridge - it's actually a meganodule horizon. Other descriptions refer to the chert as the remains of siliceous sponges. In reality, siliceous sponge spicules are quite scarce in Vanport samples.
Two graduate student projects during the 2000s, conducted at two different universities, had very different conclusions & interpretations about the origin of the Vanport Flint. A 2003 study concluded that chert at Flint Ridge is biogenic in origin. A 2006 study concluded that the chert is chemical in origin.
Studies done by geologists at Ohio State University at Newark indicate that the Vanport Flint has a relatively complex history, the details of which are still being worked out.
Modern flint knappers value the Vanport Flint for being multicolored and high-quality (= very few impurities). With artificial heating, the flint is more easily knapped into arrowheads, spear points, and other objects. Prehistoric American Indians quarried the Vanport Flint at many specific sites on Flint Ridge. Old Indian flint pits can be examined along hiking trails in Flint Ridge State Park ("State Memorial"). Many authentic Indian artifacts found in Ohio (arrowheads & spearpoints - "projectile points") are composed of Vanport Flint.
The arrowhead shown here is a modern replica, produced by a skilled knapper named Chris Miller. The flint itself comes from a Roy Miller flint pit on Flint Ridge. Material from this site is famous for having greenish and bluish coloration, which become intensified with heating.
Stratigraphy: Vanport Flint, Allegheny Group, upper Middle Pennsylvanian
Locality: Roy Miller flint pit, northwestern corner of the Brownsville Road-Flint Ridge Road intersection, next to Flint Ridge State Park, Flint Ridge, southeastern Licking County, east-central Ohio, USA
Flint from the Pennsylvanian of Ohio, USA.
Flint is the state gemstone of Ohio. "Flint" is sometimes used as a lithologic term by modern geologists, but it is a synonym for chert. Flint and chert are the same - they are cryptocrystalline, quartzose sedimentary rocks. Rockhounds often assert that flint is high-quality while chert is low-quality. In early times, light-colored material was called "chert" and dark-colored material was called "flint". Some geologists assert that "flint" implies a biogenic origin and "chert" implies a chemical origin.
Many cherts do have a chemical origin - chert nodules are moderately common in some limestone units. The nodules form during diagenesis - pre-existing silica components in the carbonate sediments are dissolved, mobilized, and reprecipitated as chert masses. Some cherts do have a biogenic origin - for example, radiolarian cherts (rich in radiolarian microfossils) or spicular cherts (rich in siliceous sponge spicules). Another proposed origin for some chert / flint is altered quartzose eolian dust deposits on ancient seafloors.
The most famous flint deposit in Ohio is Flint Ridge, in Licking County. At this locality, the Middle Pennsylvanian-aged Vanport Flint is exposed in several places. The geologic literature on the Vanport Flint is relatively sparse, with inaccurate, incomplete descriptions and characterizations. For example, the literature describes the Vanport as a sheet of flint at Flint Ridge - it's actually a meganodule horizon. Other descriptions refer to the chert as the remains of siliceous sponges. In reality, siliceous sponge spicules are quite scarce in Vanport samples.
Two graduate student projects during the 2000s, conducted at two different universities, had very different conclusions & interpretations about the origin of the Vanport Flint. A 2003 study concluded that chert at Flint Ridge is biogenic in origin. A 2006 study concluded that the chert is chemical in origin.
Modern flint knappers value the Vanport Flint for being multicolored and high-quality (= very few impurities). With artificial heating, the flint is more easily knapped into arrowheads, spear points, and other objects. Prehistoric Americans quarried the Vanport Flint at many specific sites on Flint Ridge. Old flint pits can be seen along hiking trails in Flint Ridge State Park ("Flint Ridge State Memorial"; "Flint Ridge Ancient Quarries & Nature Preserve"). Many prehistoric artifacts found in Ohio (arrowheads & spearpoints - "projectile points") are composed of Vanport Flint.
The bluish-gray areas are chalcedony-filled fractures (+ some "megaquartz" crystals).
Stratigraphy: Vanport Flint, Allegheny Group, upper Middle Pennsylvanian
Locality: Nethers Flint Quarries - flint pit in the woods on the southwestern side of Flint Ridge Road, eastern Flint Ridge, far-western Muskingum County, east-central Ohio, USA (vicinity of 40° 00.137’ North latitude, 82° 11.544’ West longitude)
Flint-knapped arrowhead.
Knapper: Ed Moreland
Flint is the "official" state gemstone of Ohio (actually, there's no such thing as "official" anything). "Flint" is sometimes used as a lithologic term by modern geologists, but it is a synonym for chert. Flint and chert are the same - they are cryptocrystalline, quartzose sedimentary rocks. Rockhounds often assert that flint is high-quality while chert is low-quality. Some geologists assert that "flint" implies a biogenic origin and "chert" implies a chemical origin.
Many cherts do have a chemical origin - chert nodules are moderately common in some limestone units. The nodules form during diagenesis - pre-existing silica components in the carbonate sediments are dissolved, mobilized, and reprecipitated as chert masses. Some cherts do have a biogenic origin - for example, radiolarian cherts (rich in radiolarian microfossils) or spicular cherts (rich in siliceous sponge spicules).
The most famous flint deposit in Ohio is Flint Ridge, in Licking County. At this locality, the Middle Pennsylvanian-aged Vanport Flint is exposed in several places. The geologic literature on the Vanport Flint is relatively sparse, with inaccurate, incomplete descriptions and characterizations. For example, the literature describes the Vanport as a sheet of flint at Flint Ridge - it's actually a meganodule horizon. Other descriptions refer to the chert as the remains of siliceous sponges. In reality, siliceous sponge spicules are quite scarce in Vanport samples.
Two graduate student projects during the 2000s, conducted at two different universities, had very different conclusions & interpretations about the origin of the Vanport Flint. A 2003 study concluded that chert at Flint Ridge is biogenic in origin. A 2006 study concluded that the chert is chemical in origin.
Modern flint knappers value the Vanport Flint for being multicolored and high-quality (= very few impurities). With artificial heating, the flint is more easily knapped into arrowheads, spear points, and other objects. Prehistoric American Indians quarried the Vanport Flint at many specific sites on Flint Ridge. Old Indian flint pits can be examined along hiking trails in Flint Ridge State Park ("State Memorial"). Many authentic Indian artifacts found in Ohio (arrowheads & spearpoints - "projectile points") are composed of Vanport Flint.
The arrowhead seen here is a modern replica, produced by a skilled knapper named Ed Moreland. The flint itself comes from a Roy Miller flint pit on Flint Ridge. Material from this site is famous for having greenish and/or bluish coloration, which become intensified with heating.
Stratigraphy: Vanport Flint, Allegheny Group, upper Middle Pennsylvanian
Locality: Roy Miller flint pit, northwestern corner of the Brownsville Road-Flint Ridge Road intersection, next to Flint Ridge State Park, Flint Ridge, southeastern Licking County, east-central Ohio, USA
Stor pung/sminkepung med flott lås og rause rynker. Den kan pyntes med bånd, blonder og knapper, eller annet. (låsen måler ca 12,5 cm)
Berlin, "Municipal Baths Reloaded", Video Art and Light installations in the Lichtenberg Municipal Baths: Pool in the Great Hall with a light sound installation, looking from the pool edge
Als Lichtenberg 1907 in den Rang einer Stadt erhoben wurde und sein erstes Rathaus besaß, plante die Stadtverwaltung auch die entsprechenden städtischen Einrichtungen wie ein Amtsgericht, ein Krankenhaus, ein Entbindungsheim, Schulen und ein Volksbad. Die Kommune erwarb ein 3800 m² großes Grundstück an der Frankfurter Allee und gründete eine Kommission für die Erbauung einer Volksbadeanstalt, besetzt mit sieben Stadtverordneten und sieben Bürgerdeputierten. Architekten lieferten sogar in der Zeit des Ersten Weltkriegs Baupläne für eine solche öffentliche Badeeinrichtung. Der erste Spatenstich erfolgte im Jahr 1919 und die Fundamente wurden gelegt. Weil Lichtenberg 1920 als Bezirk nach Groß-Berlin eingemeindet wurde und seinen Stadtstatus verlor (und sicherlich auch wegen knapper Kassen unmittelbar nach dem Krieg), wurden die Bauarbeiten eingestellt. Erst 1925, nach Überwindung der Inflation, wurde weitergebaut, nachdem die Ingenieur-Architekten Rudolf Gleye und Otto Weis die vorhandenen Pläne aktualisiert hatten. Es entstand ein mehrgliedriger kubischer Baukörper im Stil des Expressionismus mit – nach damaligen Vorstellungen – sehr modernen Ausstattungen:
Die Einweihung des Hubertusbades nahm der Berliner Oberbürgermeister Gustav Böß am 2. Februar 1928 vor. Im Zweiten Weltkrieg beschädigte eine Sprengbombe das Gebäude an der Nordwestseite, es blieb aber noch funktionstüchtig. Außerdem gingen durch die Druckwellen die meisten Scheiben zu Bruch. Das Bad wurde notdürftig repariert. Als im Zusammenhang mit der Errichtung kompletter Neubauviertel in den östlichen Stadtbezirken ab Ende der 1960er Jahre dort auch neue lichtdurchflutete Schwimmhallen entstanden, verlor das Hubertusbad seine über den Bezirk hinausgehende Bedeutung. Hinzu kam, dass nun Baumängel, die bereits seit der Fertigstellung vorhanden waren, immer gravierender wurden, 1988 musste deshalb zunächst die große Halle geschlossen werden. Grund war ein Defekt an der Wasseraufbereitungs- und Heizungsanlage, der sich nicht mehr beheben ließ. Nach dem Mauerfall und dem schrittweisen Zusammenwachsen der gesamten Stadt galten die bisherigen bundesdeutschen Vorschriften für solche Einrichtungen, Geld für Reparaturen stand nun auch nicht mehr bereit. Als 1991 die Hauptwasserzuführung kaputtging, mussten auch die kleine Halle und alle anderen Badeinrichtungen geschlossen werden. Die kleine Halle diente dann zweckentfremdet als Lagerhalle.. Im Jahr 2016 fasste der Senat von Berlin einen Entschluss, der einer Wiederbelebung des Bades einen großen Schritt näher kam: der Komplex bleibt Eigentum des Landes Berlin. Im Auftrag der Stadt kümmert sich seitdem das Unternehmen Berliner Immobilienmanagement (BIM) um Möglichkeiten der Nachnutzung.
Eine Wiederaufnahme des Badebetriebes ist wegen der hohen Investitionskosten und der Unwirtschaftlichkeit eines laufenden Betriebes nicht mehr vorgesehen. Daher soll das Stadtbad Lichtenberg sowohl Veranstaltungsort als auch Begegnungszentrum im Kiez werden. Zur langfristigen Erreichung dieses Zieles wurde ein Zwei-Stufen-Plan beschlossen und unter Beteiligung der Öffentlichkeit in einem Konkretisierungs- und Planungsworkshop vertieft: Im ersten Bauabschnitt, der Anfang des Jahres 2022 abgeschlossen war, wurden aus dem Haus mehrere Tonnen Bauschutt entfernt sowie Elektroanschlüsse und Sanitäranlagen im linken (östlichen) Gebäudeteil wieder hergerichtet. Über das Becken der ehemaligen Frauenschwimmhalle wurde ein Holzboden gezogen, auf dem seit 2022 Ausstellungen und andere Events stattfinden können. Auf diesem Parkettboden können bis zu 200 Personen platziert werden. Hier finden temporäre Veranstaltungen statt, wie die, die wir besucht haben. Sie heißt "Stadtbad Reloaded" und führt die Gäste auf einen spannenden Rundgang durch das Haus, welches mit beeindruckenden Lichtinstallationen und über 157 digitalen Kunstwerken in allen Ecken wieder zum Leben erwacht.
Quelle: Überwiegend Wikipedia
When Lichtenberg was elevated to the status of a town in 1907 and had its first town hall, the town council also planned the corresponding municipal facilities such as a district court, a hospital, a maternity home, schools and a public swimming pool. The municipality acquired a 3,800 square metre plot of land on Frankfurter Allee and set up a commission for the construction of a public baths, consisting of seven city councillors and seven citizen deputies. Architects even provided construction plans for such a public bathing facility during the First World War. The ground-breaking ceremony took place in 1919 and the foundations were laid. Because Lichtenberg was incorporated into Greater Berlin as a borough in 1920 and lost its city status (and no doubt also due to a shortage of funds immediately after the war), construction work was halted. It was not until 1925, after the inflation had been overcome, that building work resumed after the engineer-architects Rudolf Gleye and Otto Weis had updated the existing plans. The result was a multi-storey cubic building in the Expressionist style with - according to the ideas of the time - very modern fixtures and fittings. The Hubertusbad was inaugurated by the Lord Mayor of Berlin, Gustav Böß, on 2 February 1928. During the Second World War, a high-explosive bomb damaged the building on the north-west side, but it remained functional. Most of the windows were also broken by the blast waves. The baths were provisionally repaired. When new, light-flooded swimming pools were built in the eastern boroughs at the end of the 1960s in connection with the construction of entire new neighbourhoods, the Hubertus Baths lost its importance beyond the borough. In addition, construction defects, which had been present since completion, became increasingly serious, and in 1988 the large hall had to be closed. The reason was a defect in the water treatment and heating system that could no longer be repaired.
After the fall of the Berlin Wall and the gradual merging of the entire city, the regulations for such facilities in vigour in West Germany applied and there was no longer any money available for repairs. When the main water supply broke in 1991, the small hall and all other bathing facilities had to be closed. The small hall was then misused as a warehouse. In 2016, the Berlin Senate took a decision that brought the revitalisation of the baths a big step closer: the complex remains property of the state of Berlin. Since then, the Berlin Real Estate Management Administration (BIM) has been working on behalf of the city to find ways to reutilise the site. Due to the high investment costs and the inefficiency of the operation of the pools, it is no longer planned to resume bathing activities. The Lichtenberg Municipal Baths are therefore to become both a venue for events and a meeting centre in the neighbourhood. In order to achieve this goal in the long term, a two-stage plan was adopted and further developed with the participation of the public in a concretisation and planning workshop:
In the first construction phase, which was completed at the beginning of 2022, several tonnes of rubble were removed from the building and electrical connections and sanitary facilities were restored in the left-hand (eastern) part of the building. A wooden floor was laid over the pool of the former women's swimming pool, which has been used for exhibitions and other events since 2022. Up to 200 people can be seated on this parquet floor. Temporary events take place here, like the one we visited. It is called ‘Municipal Baths Reloaded’ and takes guests on an exciting tour of the building, which comes back to life with impressive light installations and over 157 digital artworks in every corner.
Source: Mainly Wikipedia
U.S. Secretary of State Mike Pompeo is greeted by Chargé d’Affaires Marc Knapper and USFK Commander General Vincent Brooks upon arrival to Osan Air Base in Osan, Seoul on June 13, 2018. [State Department photo/ Public Domain]
Commentary.
What charming but substantial cottages Hambleden possesses.
The Chiltern chalk like all areas of chalk contains
bands of black, grey and brown flint stone – hard, sharp and incredibly durable.
The “knappers” who split this stone to “face-off” the village dwellings needed to work hard to produce the thousands of tons required to finish the job.
The spirit and ambience of this place seems unchanging,
and with a flint frontage, I can see these cottages
surviving for another thousand years.
All information is provided in good faith but, on occasions errors may occur. Should this be the case, if new information can be verified please supply it to the author and corrections will then be made.
This memorial has been compiled with additional information by kind permission of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission
Also from Ancestry.co.uk
PENKHULL WAR MEMORIAL
STOKE ON TRENT, STAFFORDSHIRE
The Rood Screen is situated in the parish church of
St Thomas the Apostle, Penkhull.
To the Glory of God and in grateful remembrance of the men of Penkhull who fell in the Great War 1915-1918
This Rood Screen is erected by the Parishioners
ABBOTT Herbert Victor, Sapper 89590, 246th Base Park, Royal Engineers, formerly Driver T4/059768, Royal Army Service Corps and Private M4/059768 of the same corps. He died 19 April 1919 age 35. Husband of Florence E nee Banks of 1 The Square, Penkhull. Buried at Arquata Scrivia Communal Cemetery Extension, Italy. (CWGC have Abbotts). His birth name may have been Victor Hubert Abbott as no birth record was found for Herbert Victor Abbott and varient.
ALCOCK Charles, Pte 489918, 376th Home Service Coy, Labour Corps, formerly Pte 29004, 19th Royal Welsh Fusiliers died 11 February 1918 age 21. Son of Charles & Catherine Alcock, 37 Newcastle Street, Penkhull and the step brother of John Burton Alcock who also fell. Some notes from what remains of his army record. He enlisted on the 26th April 1915 at Stoke on Trent and was posted as Private 29044, Royal Welsh Fusiliers on the 30th April 1915 to Deganwy, Royal Welsh Fusiliers Training Depot aged 19 and 8 months. He lived with his parents at the above address and by occupation was a hammer driver at a steel works. He was posted to France on the 1st June 1916. While in France he reported sick with Trench Foot to No 9 General Hospital, Rouen on the 31st January 1917. He had gangrene of the big right toe. On the 4th February 1917 he was evacuated to England from Rouen on Hospital Ship, St Patrick and was admitted into the War Hospital, Warren Road, Guilford on the 5th February 1917 and was discharge on the 10th April 1917 to Eastbourne Convalescent Hospital the same day. On the 1st September 1917 he was discharged fit for war service and was posted to Royal Welsh Fusiliers Depot. On the 2nd January 1918 it appears he was posted to the 376th Home Service, Labour Corps On the 10th January 1918 he was admitted into the Western General Hospital, Fazakerley, Liverpool suffering from pneumonia, left lung, on the 11th February 1918 he died. Please note in his record his surname was some times spelt as Allcock. He is at rest in Hartshill Cemetery, Stoke on Trent, Staffordshire
ALCOCK John Burton, Gunner 67667, G Anti-Aircraft Battery, Royal Garrison Artillery killed in action 11 March 1918 aged 25. Some notes from what remains of his army record. He enlisted on the 8th November 1915 aged 21 and 11 months. He was living at 37, Newcastle Road, Penkhull with Mrs Catherine Alcock which was his foster mother. His occupation was given as a sulphur maker. His next of kin was his brother, Clement of Church Street, Hanley, Staffordshire He was posted to Dover on the 12th November 1915, He embarked from Southampton on the 30th April 1916 arriving at Harve the next day. He was killed in action on the 11th March 1918. He effects went to his foster mother Mrs Catherine Alcock of 37, Newcastle Street, Penkhull. Her husband and John's father may have been brothers. In 1901 he was living with his parents Clement and Olive and his siblings 28, Railway Terrace, Caverswall, Staffordshire. Buried at Montescourt Lizerolles Communal Cemetery, France
ASHLEY Cyril James, Sergeant 10955, 7th Somerset Light Infantry died of wounds 4 September 1917 age 29. Son of Robert Beath and Emily Ashley of 78 Trentham Road, Penkhull. He was born at Pear Tree Derbyshire and enlisted at Bristol. Buried at Etaples Military Cemetery, France
ATKINS Alfred, Pte 8688, 1st North Staffordshire Regiment killed in action 30 August 1916 aged 19. He was born in Fenton, Staffordshire and is commemorated on the Thiepval Memorial, France
BAGNALL William Albert, Pte 34163, 24th Battalion Tynside Irish, Northumberland Fusiliers died of wounds 27 January 1917. He was born in Newcastle under Lyme, Staffordshire and was the son of John and Lydia of Newcastle-under-Lyme. He is at rest in Boulogne Eastern Cemetery, France (SDGW have his army number as 31463)
BAKEWELL Alfred. Lieutenant Royal Navy on H.M.S. Onslaught. Killed at the battle of Jutland on the13th May 1916 aged 23 He was born on the 7th October 1892 at Longton, Staffordshire. He is commemorated on his parents, George and Mary, grave in Longton Cemetery, Stoke on Trent, Staffordshire. He enlisted on the 15th September 1905 as Cadet, Midshipman and in 1911 was at Collingwood, No 9 Dock, H.M.Dockyard, Devonport He at rest in Queensferry Cemetery, West Lothian.
BALL William Percy, Pte 16902, 2nd Lincolnshire Regt formerly Pte 13653, North Staffs Regt, killed in action 3 August 1915 age 22. Son of Harriet Ball of 3 Church Street, Penkhull. Buried at White City Cemetery, Bois Grenier, France
BARKER Charles John. Lance Sergeant 24473, 19th Royal Welsh (Welch) Fusiliers, killed in action 14th August 1917 aged 28. He was the son of Emma Mellor (formerly Barker), of Cemetery Lodge, Penkhull, Stoke-on-Trent. and the late Charles Barker. He is at rest in Fins New British Cemetery, Sorel-Le-Grand, Somme, France. Some notes from what remains of his army records. He was born in 1889 and he lived with his mother, Emma, at the Cemetery Lodge, Hartshill Cemetery, Hartshill, Stoke-on-Trent, Staffordshire aged 26 years and 4 months. He was working as a brickmaker. He enlisted at Wrexham on the 4th June 1915 and after training embarked from Southampton on the 18 March 1917 and disembarked at Rouen the following day and he was posted to the 19th Royal Welsh Fusiliers from Base Depot at Rouen. He was promoted many times from private to lance sergeant and finally he was once again promoted to paid lance sergeant on the 6th May 1917. On the 14th August 1917 he was killed in action in the field.
BATES John Furness, Gunner 151490, 99th Siege Battery, Royal Garrison Artillery, died of wounds 8 July 1918 aged 21. He was born on the 18th January 1897 and christened on the 14th February 1897 at Selhurst, Surrey. He was the son of Josiah Herbert and Ada of 160 Trentham Road, Penkhull. Buried at Terlincthun British Cemetery, Wimille, France Native of Croydon, Surrey.
BEATTIE William Guardsman 9141, 2nd Scots Guards, died of wounds 20 December 1914 aged 28. Native of Newcastle under Lyme, Staffs Buried at Boulogne Eastern Cemetery, France
BICKERTON Arthur, Sgt 805233, D Battery, 231st Brigade, Royal Field Artillery Territorial Force killed in action 9 August 1917 aged 21.He was the son of Samuel and Hannah of 16, Honeywall, Penkhull, Stoke-on-Trent, Staffordshire. He is at rest in Fosse No,10 Communal Cemetery Extension, Sains-En-Gohelle, France
BOSLEY John. Sapper 685, 2/21st North Midland Field Company, Royal Engineers died of wounds 3rd June 1915. Born in Stoke-on-Trent and enlisted at Smethwick, Staffordshire. He is at rest in Hartshill Cemetery, Stoke on Trent, Staffordshire.
BULLOCK Charles Wallsham (Howe) Private 622, 1/5th North Staffordshire Regiment killed in action 5th April 1915 aged 33. He was native of Fenton and was the husband of Mary Ellen, nee Davies of 31, Pleasant Row, Stoke on Trent, Staffordshire. They were married in 1903 and in 1911 they had three children all living at 2, Garden Row, Honeywall, Stoke on Trent. He was employed as pottery carrier at a kiln. His name was given as Charles Wallsham Howe Bullock, his birth was registered as Charlie Walsham Bullock. His parents were Henry and Ellen. In 1911 they were living with three of their children at 1 Cotton Hollow, Shelton Old Road, Stoke on Trent. He is at rest in Wulvergem Churchyard, Belgium.
BYATT Herbert. (The following information may be for the H Byatt on this memorial. No other H Byatt could be found having died in the great war. If incorrect and new information can be verified please supply it to the author and corrections will then be made). Sapper 343807 C Company, 1st Platoon Inland Waterways and Dock, Royal Engineers. He enlisted on the 10th December 1915 aged 34 and 8 months and was posted into the army reserve awaiting to be mobilized. He was living at 3, Ronald Street, Florence, Longton, Staffordshire with his wife Alice, nee Spendlow who he married Stoke Registry Office (Civil Marriage) on the 14th July 1906 and their 5 children. Unfortunately the children's names have been destroyed by the bomb, fire and water damage in WW2. He was mobilized on the 20th March 1918. He was at one time living/stationed at Ashton Gate, Bristol, he wife was still at 3. Ronald Street. On the 5th February 1919 he was transferred to Z Class and gave his home address as 3, Ronald Street, he had served 234 days. On the 19th November 1923 at 3, Ronald Street, he died Acute Bronchitis. His wife reported his death to the army.
CAMPBELL Edward. Acting Lieutenant, 3rd North Staffordshire Regiment died 18th November 1916. He was born in 1897 at Penkhull to John and Esther Campbell of Queen's Road, Penkhull, Stoke-on-Trent. He is at rest in Grandcourt Road Cemetery, Grandcourt, Somme, France His correct birth name was Edward Campbell.
CLARKE William George. It may be the following person. Private 29853, 8th North Staffordshire Regiment died 11th January 1917. He is at rest in Hebuterne Military Cemetery, France. In 1911 there was a William George living with his widowed mother and siblings at 77, Honeywall, Penkhull. He was by occupation a coal carter
CLAYTON Alfred Private 2033, 1/5th North Staffordshire Regiment killed in action 13th October 1915. He was born in Fenton and lived in Stoke-on-Trent (This name S.O.T. covers a very large area) He may have been the son He is commemorated on the Loos Memorial, France.
CLOWES Colin George. Lance Corporal P/11173, Military Foot Police Corps, died in Mesopotamia 19th July 1917. He was the son of George Henry and Harriet Clowes of 1, Elliott Street, Penkhull, Stoke-on-Trent, Staffordshire. He is at rest in Basra War Cemetery, Iraq. Some notes from what remains of his army records. He attested on the 9th December 1915 aged 24 years and 10 months. He gave his occupation as a Postman, formally he was a china caster and lived with his parents at 1, Elliott Street. On the 11th February 1916 he was mobilized and posted to Lichfield as Private 203888, North Staffordshire Regiment, later to be transferred many times to, 1st Garrison Battalion, Yorkshire Light Infantry as private28788, then as private 35755, 1st Garrison Battalion, East Yorkshire Regiment, private 26987, 2nd Garrison Battalion, Northumberland Fusiliers. and finally transferred and promoted to Lance Corporal 11173, Military Foot Police. On the 19th October 1916 he embarked for India, Bombay. On the 6th February 1917 he embarked from Bombay for Mesopotamia. The 18th July 1917 he was admitted to No 33 British General Hospital, Makina suffering from the heat. He died from the effects of heat in the hospital at 4-15pm on the 19th July 1917.
COMLEY George Ernest, Private 2140, 1/5th North Staffordshire Regiment. Born in 1896 killed in action 17th September 1915 aged 18. He was the son of Mrs Gertrude Adams of 68 Albert Street, Stoke on Trent. He was native of Penkhull and in 1911 he was living with his parents Alfred Henry and Gertrude at the above address. He was by occupation a wheel turner. He is at rest in Railway Cutting Cemetery, Larch Wood, West-Vlaanderen, Belgium.
COOK Alfred Gilbert. Gunner 731, North Midland Staffordshire Heavy Battery, Royal Garrison Artillery, killed in action 27th September 1916. He was native of Penkhull and enlisted at Shelton, both, Stoke on Trent. He was the son of William H and Eliza who in 1911 were living with their children at 76, Honeywall, Penkhull, Stoke on Trent. He is at rest in Hebuterne Military Cemetery, France
DAVIS Elijah. Sapper 144874, 172nd Tunnelling Coy, Royal Engineers killed in action 19th December 1915 aged 21. He was the son of John and Olive Davies, of New Street., Stoke-on-Trent; husband of Mrs. M. O'Brien (formerly Davies), of 3, Keate's Square, Hanley, Stoke-on-Trent. He is commemorated on the Menin Gate Memorial, Ypres, Belgium. (The CWGC have DAVIES)
DAVIS William The following information may be for this person. If the incorrect and new information can be verified please supply it to the author and corrections will then be made. Private 4840, 1st Yorkshire and Lancaster Regiment, formerly Private 9240, North Staff died of wounds on the 12th October 1915 aged 39. He is commemorated on the Loos Memorial, France. Some notes from what remains of his army record. He joined up on the 12th September 1914 aged 38 and was posted to Pontefract as private 9240, North Staffordshire Regiment. He was living at Longton and his occupation was a collier. On the 28th April 1915 he was transferred as private 4850 into the York and Lancaster Regiment and he embarked for France on the 4th May 1915. On the 5th October he was reported missing in action in France. Over a period of time and unknown to the regiment, he was laying unconscious in 24th General Hospital but died of his wounds at 2pm on the12th October 1915. He was admitted to the hospital on the 5th October 1915. A photograph was taken of this soldier and was show to men of his regiment and many were able to identify him as being William Davis. Sadly he passed away at the hospital form his wounds. His parents was called Thomas and his next of kin was his sister Mrs Miranda Peach of 25, Edensor Road, Longton.
EDWARDS Arthur John. It may be the following. Gunner 133460, 251st Siege Battery,Royal Garrison Artillery died of wounds 23rd May 1918 He was born at Shelton and lived at Hartshill, both in Stoke-on-Trent. (Wills and Admin) He lived at West View, Yoxall Avenue, Hartshill and he died at No 2 Casualty Clearing Station, France. His effects went to his mother, Emma, nee Eccles, widow. He is at rest in Outtersteene Communal Cemetery Extension, Bailleul, Nord France. Some notes from what remains of his army records. He enlisted on the 15th December 1916 at No 4 Depot, Royal Garrison Artillery, Ripon, Yorkshire aged 29 and 8 months. He lived at the above address with his widowed mother and siblings. On the 29th July 1917 he embarked Southampton and arrived the following day at Le Harve. He was posted to 298 Siege Battery from Base Depot on the 4th August 1917 and later he was transferred to 251st Siege Battery on the 20th November 1917. On the 19th March 1918 the area in which he was fighting was bombarded with gas shells. He was treated at No 1 A? Field Ambulance then he was transferred to 32, Casualty Clearing Station were he passed away from the effects of gas. His father was called Arthur James Bailey Edwards.
ELKIN William. Private 10047, 1st North Staffordshire Regiment, killed in action on the 13th March 1915. He was born at Northwood, Staffordshire and he at rest in Ploegsteert Memorial, Hainaut, Belgium
FALLOWS J. I am unable to find the correct record for this person listed with the CWGC. If new information can be verified please supply it to the author and corrections will then be made.
FERNEYHOUGH Edwin. Private 55024, 15th Lancashire Fusiliers, formerly 50747, Lincolnshire Regiment died of wounds 22nd November 1918. He was born at Stoke-on-Trent and is at rest in Etaples Military Cemetery, France
GIBBS P H, No P H GIBBS/GIBB is listed with the CWGC. If new information can be verified please supply it to the author and corrections will then be made.
GITTINS Charles Leese (Memorial has C Gittens) (CWGC have) Private 2139 Charles GITTINS, 1/5th North Staffordshire Regiment killed in action 13th October 1915. He was native of Penkhull and was born on the 28th June 1896 to Alfred and Emily of 15, Newcastle Street, Penkhull, Stoke on Trent. He is commemorated on the Loos Memorial, France Correct surname is Gittins. Some notes from what remains of his army record. He enlisted the 5th Regiment Depot and Stoke on Trent on the 11th March 1913 aged 17, and 8 months. He gave his mother, Emily as his next of kin. He embarked Southampton on the 2nd March 1915 disembarking at Harve the following morning. Whilst in France he was served with a Court Order dated 26th July 1915 from Miss Sarah Tedstone of 13, Newcastle Street. She had stated in court the on the ?? February 1912 she delivered a bastard child of which she alleged that Charles Gittins was the father. He was ordered to pay per 4 shillings per week, the child was not named,
GITTINS Joseph. (Poppy Cross Memorial has Died of war wounds in 1919) The following information may be for Joseph. Driver 25438 Joseph GITTENS Royal Field Artillery, Born in 1894 to Alfred and Emily of 15, Newcastle Street, Penkhull, Stoke on Trent. In 1911 he was employed as an invoice for the North Staffordshire Railway goods wagon department in Stoke on Trent and is commemorated on the war memorial at Stoke on Trent Station, on the south bound platform. His brother Charles also fell in action .
Some notes from what remains of his army record. He enlisted on the 3rd September 1914 aged 20 and 257days. Gave his occupation as a porter He was born in 1894 to Alfred and Emily of 15, Newcastle Street, Penkhull. Whilst in training he was admitted Netby Military Hospital on the 24th April 1915 with (it looks like tuberculosis) and was discharged from hospital on the 4th May 1915. He was later medically discharged from the army as being permanently unfit for service on the 18th May 1915.
GOOD Jack Wilberforce, Private 3147, 1/5th North Staffordshire Regiment killed in action 26th September 1915. he was born in Shelton and lived in Penkhull both in Staffordshire. He was the son of William Henry and Catherine of "Hill Crest" The Croft Garden Village, Stoke on Trent. He is at rest in Railway Cutting Cemetery, Larch Wood, West-Vlaanderen, Belgium.
GUILLAN (GWILLIAM) Frederick Lance Corporal 3714, 1/5th North Staffordshire Regiment killed in action 13th October 1915 aged 21. He was the son of John Henry and Ethel J Gwilliam of 6, Bard Lane, Handford, Stoke-on-Trent. formerly of (1911) 11, Hollins Street, Stoke on Trent. He was native of Wolverhampton and his occupation in 1911 was a bricklayer He is commemorated on the Loos Memorial, France. Some notes from what remains of his army record. He enlisted on the 15th October 1914 and was posted to the 5th Home Service North Staffordshire Regiment. On the 5th March 1915 he was posted to Frnce to join the 5th North Staffords. he was promoted to Lance Corporal on the 6th September 1915 and was killed in action on the 13th October 1915. His next of kin was his father John Henry of 81, High Street, Handford, Staffordshire. The correct surname is GWILLIAM
HEANEY Frank. Company Quartermaster Sergeant (CQMS) 8286, D Company, 1st North Staffordshire Regiment killed in action. 31st August 1916 aged 25. He was the son of Police Constable Thomas and Lissette Harvey Heany. He is at rest in Sucrerie Military Cemetery, Colincamp, Somme, France. The Soldier died in the great war SDGW. have recorded his date of death as the 8th December 1916.
HILL Arthur Private 10158, 1st Cheshire Regiment killed in action 22nd October 1914 aged 25. He was born at Bedford, Lea, Manchester and was the son of Arthur of East Street, Penkhull, Stoke-on-Trent. He is commemorated on the Le Touret Memorial, France.
HILL Charles George. Private 57775 2/5th Lancashire Fusiliers died of wounds 8th September 1918 aged 18. He was the son of William and Sarah Ann of 8, Stone Street, Penkhull, Stoke-on-Trent. He is at rest in Pernes British Cemetery, France.
HUGHES Arnold. Private 201877 1/6th North Staffordshire Regiment died 21st February 1921 aged 25. He enlisted on the 22nd January 1916 and was discharged on the 17th July 1918. He was the son of Richard and Eliza of 4, Lockwood Street, Newcastle-under-Lyme. He is at rest in Newcastle-under-Lyme, Cemetery, Staffordshire.
JEFFREYS Thomas Bertram (CWGC have Bertram Thomas).Private 31203, 7th South Lancashire Regiment, formerly 23198, South Staffordshire Regiment, killed in action 14th November 1916 aged 22. He was the son of William Edwin and Agnes Julia nee of 16, Penkhull Street, Penkhull, Stoke on Trent, Staffordshire. The SDGW have Bertram Jeffreys. He is at rest in Grandcourt Road Cemetery, Grandcourt, Somme, France. Some notes from what remains of his army record. He enlisted on the 10th December 1915 as Bertram Jeffreys and was transferred in the army reserve. He was aged 21 and 3 months, lived with widowed father at the above address and he was by occupation a millers hand. He was mobilized on the23rd August 1916 as private 23198 of the 4th South Staffordshire Regiment. He was posted to France on the 21st September 1916, he was transferred as private 31203 to the 7th South Lancashire Regiment. He was killed in action in France on the 14th November 1916. he had a brother called Frank Norman who was also serving his country and I believe he was private 115103, Royal Army Medical Corps. (Medal card index)
JOHNSON Joseph (The following information may be for this person. If incorrect and new information can be verified please supply it to the author and corrections will then be made) Private 7385, 7th North Staffordshire Regiment killed in action at Mesopotamia 26th January 1917 aged 26. He was native of Newcastle-under-Lyme, Staffordshire and was the son of Joseph and Ann Ellen of 4, Chapel Street, May Bank, Stroke-on-Trent. He is at rest in Amara War Cemetery, Iraq
JOHNSON William Henry Private 17315, C Company, 8th North Staffordshire Regiment killed in action 18th November 1918 aged 20. He was the son of William and Alice of 14, East Street, Penkhull, Stoke-on-Trent. He is at rest in Grandcourt Road Cemetery, Grandcourt, Somme, France. Some notes from what remains of his army records. He enlisted on the 30th March 1915 and was posted to the Staffords Depot the same day aged 18 and 4 months. He lived with his parents at the above address and by occupation was a potters placer and gave his date on birth as 5th November 1896. He was posted to France on the 18th November 1916 and was killed in action.
LEESE Albert Victor. Private 15900, 7th North Staffordshire Regiment killed in action at Mesopotamia on the 9th April 1916. He was native of Penkhull and was the son of William and Ann of 2, New Buildings, Barlaston, Stoke-on-Trent. He is commemorated on the Basra Memorial, Iraq.
LEWIS Reginald. Gunner 451, 1st North Midland Heavy Battery, Royal Garrison Artillery died of wounds 18th June 1915 aged 28. He was native of Bethesda, Carnarvon and was the son of William and Elizabeth of 14, Watson Street, Penkhull, Stoke-on-Trent, Staffordshire. He is at rest in Vlamertinghe Military Cemetery, West-Vlaanderen, Belgium. Some notes from what remains of his army record. He re-enlisted on the 5 August 1914 and was posted to Luton aged 27. He had previuosly served 6 years with North Midland Royal Garrison Artillery. He was born at Bangor, North Wales, lived with his parents 21 Greatbach Avenue, Stoke on Trent and was by occupation a potters gilder. he was posted to France on the 2nd March 1915. He was wounded in action on the 17th, treated at No 16 Field Ambulance the same day and died the following day from his wounds.
LOWE Ronald Charles, Lieutenant, The Kings Liverpool Regiment, 8th Irish Battalion, Teritorials, He died of wounds 18 August 1918 age 28. It appears he may have been a prisoner of war. The SDGW, comments: "In Ger Hand" Son of Charles Edward & Mrs M.H. Lowe of “Ronyln”, Teignmouth, St Mary church, Torquay. (Wills and Admin) and his home address as Ivydene, Queen's Roadm Penkhull. Buried at Rue-Petillion Military Cemetery, Fleurbaix, France
MATHER J I am unable to find the correct record for this person listed with the CWGC. If new information can be verified please supply it to the author and corrections will then be made.
MIDDLETON Joseph (The following information may be for this person. If incorrect and new information can be verified please supply it to the author and corrections will then be made) Private 37699, 9th King's Own Yorkshire Light Infantry, formerly private 19473, North Staffordshire Regiment, killed in action 16th September 1916. He was born in Longton, Stoke on Trent (The SDGW have his army number as 37669 which is incorrect) He is commemorated on the Thiepval Memorial, Somme, France.
MILLARD William Herbert. Sapper WR/21063, Royal Engineers died 13th February 1919 aged 26. He was the son of William and Louisa of 80, Trentham Road, Penkhull, Stoke-on-Trent. He is at rest in Hartshill Cemetery, Stoke on Trent, Staffordshire
MONTEITH Robert John Henry. Private 32006, 9th Essex Regiment killed in action 6th September 1918 aged 26. He was born in Acton Middlesex and lived at Canvey Island, Essex and was the son of Robert and Jessie Bryce. I can find no connection with Penkhull or "Staffordshire" He is at rest in Fins New British Cemetery, Sorel-Le-Grand, Some, France.
NAGGINGTON Vincent Francis. (Military records show Veicent Nagington). Private 8783, 2nd Sherwood Foresters, killed in action 9th August 1915. He was born in 1879 and was the son of Francis and Alice of 192, Aston Pipe Gate, Market Drayton, Salop. He is commemorated on the Menin Gate Memorial, Ypres, Belgium. (Memorial has Naggington)
NIXON Harold. Private 3597, 1/5th North Staffordshire Regiment killed in action 13th October 1915. He was a resident of Penkhull, Staffordshire. He is commemorated on the Loos Memorial, France
PARKES Samuel. Private 174923, 109th Battery, 261st Brigade, Royal Field Artillery died 5th September 1918 aged 21. He was the son of Mr and Mrs Ada Parkes of 1, Newcastle Street, Penkhull, Stoke-on-Trent. He is at rest in H.A,C. Cemetery, Ecoust-St Mein, France
RAVENSDALE Harold. Private 3545, 1/5th North Staffordshire Regiment killed in action 13th October 1915. He was born at Shelton, Stoke-on-Trent and enlisted at Butterton, Staffordshire. He is commemorated on the Loos Memorial, France. Some notes from what remains of his army record. He enlisted aged 18 on the 5th October 1914. He was living at 66 Honeywall, Penkhull with his now remarried mother Eleanor Margaret Shenton. On the 18th August 1915 he embarked for France from Southampton and arrived at Rouen the following day. From there he was marched into Base Depot at Rouen for his posting to his regiment. On the 23rd September 1915 he was posted to 5th North Staffords and was reported missing in action on the 13th October 1915. He was struck of the strength of the battalion on the 4th January 1916, presumed to have died on or since the 13th October 1915.
His brother Horace was also serving his country. He was Private 131733, Royal Army Medical Corps. He enlisted on the 13th June 1917 aged 22 at Stoke on Trent. He was first posted to the Labour Corps and later transferred to the R.A.M.C. and posted to the depot at, Blackpool on the 14th March 1918. He embarked Southampton for France with 88 and 89 Reinforcements on the 3rd April 1918 arriving at Harve the same day. and was sent to 35, General Hospital, R.A.M.C. Calais, He was discharged from the army to civilian life on the 9th December 1919.
In 1901 both boys where living with their widowed mother at 20 Bold Street, Hartshill, Stoke on Trent, In 1911 they are now living at 66 Honeywall with their other brother Harry and step father Joseph Shenton Their late father was called Thomas, and he married Margaret Eleanor nee Foster at Hartshill Church, Stoke-on-Trent in 1889. Her birth name was Eleanor Margaret Foster. (Please note their were five boys to this family. Frank, 1891, Thomas 1894, Harry 1895, Horace, 1896 and Harold 1897, just in case there is confusion with Harry and Harold. Harry also fell in action
RAVENSDALE Harry. Private 9651, 1st London Regiment, killed in action 15th July 1916. He was the son Thomas and Eleanor Margaret nee Foster In 1901 he was living with their widowed mother and his siblings at 20 Bold Street, Hartshill, Stoke on Trent, In 1911 they are now living at 66 Honeywall with their step father Joseph Shenton His brother Harold also fell in the great war and Horace survived the war. He is commemorated on the Menin Gate Memorial, Ypres, Belgium.
ROWLEY Frederick. Private 13356, 9th North Staffordshire Regiment, killed in action 2nd August 1916. He is commemorated on the Thiepval memorial, Somme, France. Some notes from what remains of his army record. He joined up on the 22nd September 1914. He was living at 72, Victoria Street, Tunstall, Stoke on Trent, with his wife, Margaret (known as Maggie) nee Carroll who he married on the 4th August 1907 at St Marys church, Tunstall, and their two children. Elizabeth, born 2nd November 1907 and Lily, born 23rd August 1912, his occupation was a potter. On the 28th July 1915 he embarked for France to join his regiment. On the 2nd August 1916 he was killed in action. The following is not in army records. His wife after his death remarried in 1919 to John Ryan Bennett. His parents were Thomas and Mary Ellen who in 1911 were living at 20, Taylor Street, May Bank, Wolstanton. Staffordshire
RUDD Frank. Private 5080, 1/5th Lancashire Fusiliers Territorial Force, formerly 17861, North Staffordshire Regiment died 4th June 1916. He was the son of William and Hannah of (1911) No 6, Pump Street, Penkhull, Stoke on Trent. he was working as a warehouse man. He is at rest in Suez War Memorial, Cemetery, Egypt.
SANT Frederick James. Sergeant 607, 1/5th North Staffordshire Regiment killed in action 13th October 1915 aged 31. He was the son of Frederick James and Elizabeth nee Hurd, of 281 Princes Road, Penkhull, Stoke-on-Trent. He is commemorated on the Loos Memorial, France
SCOTT Geoffrey Lawrence. Private 5094, 4th South African Infantry died 18th July 1916 aged 24 He was the son of the Rev. Inglis Charles Reymond Scott, Vicar of Chute, and Harriet Scott, of Chute Vicarage, Andover, England. Also served in Transvaal Scottish Regt. in German South West Africa. Born at Penkhull, Stoke-on-Trent. He is at rest in Delville Wood Cemetery, Longueval, Somme, France
SHAW Harold. The following information may be for this person. If incorrect and new information can be verified please supply it to the author and corrections will then be made. Private 71123, 16th Sherwood Foresters, formerly 1382, North Staffordshire Regiment, killed in action 12th November 1916, aged 21. He was born in 1895 Hanley. and was resident in Stoke-on-Trent, location not given. He may have been the son of John and Mary Ellen who in 1911 were living with their children at 42, All Saints Road, Stoke-on-Trent. He is at rest in Mill Road Cemetery, Thiepval, Somme, France.
STACEY Clement James, Sapper 143455, 26th Field Company, Royal Engineers died of wounds 10th March 1918 aged 24. He was born in Cobridge, Stoke-on-Trent and lived in Newcastle, Staffordshire. He was the son of Thomas George and Ann, of 7, Knappers Gate, Near, Newcastle upon Lyme, Staffordshire. he is at rest in Wimereux Communal Cemetery, France
STEAD (STEED) W. (The following information may be for this person. If incorrect and new information can be verified please supply it to the author and corrections will then be made.) Private 10952, Walter John STEED, C, Company, 7th North Staffordshire Regiment, died of wounds in Mesopotamia on the 10th April 1916. He was born at Hanley and lived in Bucknall, both of Stoke-on-Trent. . He was the son of Henry and Sarah Ann nee Barratt. His mother died in 1899 and in 1901 he father was in prison and the children were in Spittals Workhouse, Newcastle-upon-Lyme. In 1911 he was a boarder at 102, Church Street, Hanley and was an apprentice butcher. He is at rest in Amara War Cemetery, Iraq. Some notes from what remains of his army record. He joined up on the on the 22nd August 1914 aged 20 and 4 months. He lived with his brother, Harry at 4, John Street, Bucknall, Stoke-on-Trent. He was posted to France on the 26th June 1915 and he died of wounds in Mesopotamia on the 10th April 1916
STEPHENS Samuel Charles. Private STK/536, 10th London Regiment, Royal Fusiliers, killed in action 15th July 1916, aged 31. He was the son of Bessie Maria nee Cross of 124, Trentham Road, Penkhull and the late William. In 1901 he was living with his widowed mother ar 2, Allandale Villa, Margate, Isle of Thanet, and in 1911 he was living with his aunt, Fanny Thomas at 73, Chestnut Grove, Balham, London, South West. he was by occupation and stoke brokers clerk. He is commemorated on the Thiepval Memorial, Somme, France.
STONE John I am unable to find the correct record for this person listed with the CWGC. If new information can be verified please supply it to the author and corrections will then be made.
STRINGER Frederick Guy. (CWGC & SDGW have G F) Lieutenant, North Midland Heavy Battery, Royal Garrison Artillery killed in action 17th June 1915 aged 29. He was born in 1886 at Penkhull to Frederick Septimus, bank manager and Eliza Sarah nee Eyre of Stoke on Trent, Staffordshire. In 1911 he was a boarder at 57, Francis Road, Edgbaston, Birmingham, and by occupation he was a bank clerk. (Wills and Admin) He lived at the Villas, Stoke-upon-Trent and died in Flanders. He is at rest in Hospital Farm Cemetery, Belgium and his headstone is inscribed Guy Frederick. His birth was registered in 1885 at Stoke-on-Trent as Frederick Guy Stringer
SWAN (SWANN) Percy. Lance Corporal 25210, 9th Sherwood Foresters killed in action 27th April 1918. He was born in Stoke-on-Trent, and enlisted at Newcastle, Staffordshire. He may have been the son of Samuel and Amelia Swann. In 1911 he was living with his widowed mother and siblings at 113, Thornton Road, Stoke on Trent. He had a brother called Harold. an army record was found for a gunner 1685 Harold Swann, 3/2 North Midland Royal Field Artillery. he gave his address as 22, Newcastle Street, Penkhull. He survived the war. It may be the same person. He is at rest in Philosophe Nritish Cemetery, Mazingarbe, France (CWGC have SWANN)
SWETMORE Harry. Private 2486, 1/5th North Staffordshire Regiment killed in action 25th June 1916. He was born in Penkhull and he at rest in Foncquevillers Military Cemetery, France. Some notes from what remains of his army record. He enlisted aged 23 on the 5th August 1914 at Stoke-on-Trent. He was living with his parents at 30, Albert Street, Stoke on Trent. His occupation was a riveter and his parents were called William and Mary Elizabeth (nee Strevens) He had formerly lived in 1891 at 6, Garden Row, Penkhull. On the 28th June 1915 he embarked Southampton and arrived at Rouen the following day. On the 5th January 1916 he embarked Marseilles France and he disembarked at Alexandria on the 12th June 1916. There is no record of him leaving Egypt for France but he was killed in action on the 25th June 1916
TAYLOR John Thomas. Private 74214, 10th Sherwood Foresters, formerly 28707, Royal Welch Fusiliers, killed in action 19th April 1918 aged 25. He was the son of Charles and Mary of Penkhull, Stoke-on-Trent. He is at rest in Varennes Military Cemetery, Somme, France.
TUNSTALL James. Private 3425, 1/5th North Staffordshire Regiment killed in action 13th October 1915 age 17, plus. He was the son of William John and Elizabeth of 129, Oxford Road, Basford Park, Stoke on Trent. He is commemorated on the Loos Memorial, France. Some notes from what remains of his army record. He enlisted on the 4th September 1914 had his medical the some day at Wolstanton, Staffordshire aged 17 and 150days. He lived with his parents at 129, Oxford Road and was by occupation a baker. On the 4th March 1915 he embarked Southampton and disembarked at Le Harve the following day. He was reported missing in action on the 13th October 1915 and was struck of the strength of the Battalion on the 21st June 1916.
TURNOCK Josiah. Lance Corporal 9862, 1st North Staffordshire Regiment killed in action 23rd January 1916 aged 22. He was the son of John Thomas and Jane who in 1911 were living as a family at 11, Church Street, Stoke on Trent. He is at rest in the Menin Road South Military Cemetery, Belgium
TURNOCK William. Lance Sergeant 1070, 1/5th North Staffordshire Regiment killed in action 13th October 1915. He was the son of John and Mary. who in 1901 were living at 5, Victoria Buildings in the parish of St Thomas, Penkhull. In 1911 he was living with his married brother, Frederick and his family at 1, Newcastle Street, No 1 Out Lane, Penkhull. occupation pottery caster He is commemorated on the Loos Memorial, France.
UNDERWOOD David. Guardsman 23169, 4th Grenadier Guards killed in action 25th September 1916. He was born in Stoke-on-Trent and may have been the son of David and Elizabeth who in 1911 were living at 57, Birks Street, Stoke on Trent. he was employed as abrickle tile maker. He is commemorated on the Thiepval Memorial, Somme, France.
WALLING Arthur Brunt (Memorial has B A) Gunner 174986, Head Quarter, 302nd Brigade, Royal Field Artillery. Died 25th October 1918 aged 21. He was the son of Mrs Hannah Maria Walling of, 2, Newcastle Street, Penkhull, Stoke on Trent, Staffordshire. He is at rest in Deir Belah War Cemetery, Israel and Palestine (including Gaza)
WAKEFIELD Alfred. Lance Corporal 46817, 2nd Yorkshire Regiment, formerly Private 6/9910 13th Training Battalion, killed in action 23rd March 1918 aged 19. He was the son of Benjamin and Sarah of 79, Greatbatch Avenue, Penkhull, Stoke-on-Trent, Staffordshire. He is commemorated on the Pozieres Memorial, Somme, France
WHITAKER Carey. Private 228449, 2nd Royal Fusiliers, formerly 203247, North Staffordshire Regiment died of wounds 12th April 1918 aged 37. He was the son of Samuel and Sarah of Stoke on Trent and was the husband of Emily of, 7, Stone Street, Penkhull, Stoke on Trent, Staffordshire. He is at rest in Pernes British Cemetery, France.
WHITFIELD John Bevan Private 11670, 1st Sherwood Foresters killed in action 13th March 1915 aged 22. He was the son of John Kirkham and Amelia of 26, Watson Street, Penkhull, Stoke on Trent, Staffordshire. He is at rest in Canadian Cemetery No 2, Neuville-St Vaast, France.
WILSON Henry John. Private 9328, 12th Royal Fusiliers killed in action 3rd September 1916 aged 36. He was born in Dresden, Stoke-on-Trent and lived in Etruria, stoke-on-Trent. He was the husband of Ida of 79, Lower Mayes Street, Hanley, Stoke-on-Trent. He is commemorated on the Thiepval Memorial, Somme, France.
WOOD George. Private G11544, 2nd London Regiment died 28 December 1916 aged 37. He was born in 1879 in Longton, Staffordshire and was the husband of Emily of 5, Nursery Street, Boothen, Stoke on Trent, Staffordshire. He is at rest in Etaples Military Cemetery, France
WRIGHT Lewis. Private 19626, 11th Sherwood Foresters, killed in action 1st July 1916. He was born in Longton and may have been the son of Thomas and Elizabeth of 12, Ronald Street, Longton. He is at rest in Blighty Valley Cemetery, Authuille Wood, Somme, France
May they rest in peace
Ferruginous chert ("jasper")
Sedimentary rocks form by the solidification of loose sediments. Loose sediments become hard rocks by the processes of deposition, burial, compaction, dewatering, and cementation.
There are three categories of sedimentary rocks:
1) Siliciclastic sedimentary rocks form by the solidification of sediments produced by weathering & erosion of any previously existing rocks.
2) Biogenic sedimentary rocks form by the solidification of sediments that were once-living organisms (plants, animals, micro-organisms).
3) Chemical sedimentary rocks form by the solidification of sediments formed by inorganic chemical reactions. Most sedimentary rocks have a clastic texture, but some are crystalline.
Chert is a cryptocrystalline-textured, siliceous sedimentary rock. It is composed of quartz (SiO2). Traditionally, light-colored varieties were called “chert” by geologists, and dark-colored varieties were called “flint”. This arbitrary distinction is no longer preferred. “Flint” is now an archaeological term for chert that has been worked by early humans. "Flint" is generally perceived by rockhounds to be high-quality material (from a flint-knapper's point of view, apparently), whereas "chert" is perceived as low-quality material. Chert nodules in Cretaceous chalks of Britain are still called “flint” by some geologists. Chert meganodules at Flint Ridge, Ohio are called “flint” in the geologic literature.
Individual quartz crystals are incredibly small in cherts, and generally cannot be seen with normal microscopes. Chert comes close to having the physical properties of a glassy textured rock - it is very hard (H = 7), has conchoidal fracture (smooth & curved fracture surfaces), and has sharp broken edges.
Cherts vary in color. Common chert colors include whitish, grayish, brownish to dark gray, very dark blue, and black. Reds, yellows, and greens are sometimes present. Some cherts are complexly multicolored.
Some cherts form biogenically, but other cherts have a chemical origin. As a result, chert cannot be placed cleanly or neatly or unambiguously into a traditional sedimentary rock category (siliciclastic, biogenic, chemical).
The chert sample seen here has an intense reddish color due to significant iron oxide impurity. Such reddish-colored ferruginous cherts are called "jasper". The red chert layers in many banded iron formations are usually called jasper (see, for example: www.flickr.com/photos/jsjgeology/sets/72157646887794646)
Flint from the Pennsylvanian of Ohio, USA.
Flint is the state gemstone of Ohio. "Flint" is sometimes used as a lithologic term by modern geologists, but it is a synonym for chert. Flint and chert are the same - they are cryptocrystalline, quartzose sedimentary rocks. Rockhounds often assert that flint is high-quality while chert is low-quality. In early times, light-colored material was called "chert" and dark-colored material was called "flint". Some geologists assert that "flint" implies a biogenic origin and "chert" implies a chemical origin.
Many cherts do have a chemical origin - chert nodules are moderately common in some limestone units. The nodules form during diagenesis - pre-existing silica components in the carbonate sediments are dissolved, mobilized, and reprecipitated as chert masses. Some cherts do have a biogenic origin - for example, radiolarian cherts (rich in radiolarian microfossils) or spicular cherts (rich in siliceous sponge spicules). Another proposed origin for some chert / flint is altered quartzose eolian dust deposits on ancient seafloors.
The most famous flint deposit in Ohio is Flint Ridge, in Licking County. At this locality, the Middle Pennsylvanian-aged Vanport Flint is exposed in several places. The geologic literature on the Vanport Flint is relatively sparse, with inaccurate, incomplete descriptions and characterizations. For example, the literature describes the Vanport as a sheet of flint at Flint Ridge - it's actually a meganodule horizon. Other descriptions refer to the chert as the remains of siliceous sponges. In reality, siliceous sponge spicules are quite scarce in Vanport samples.
Two graduate student projects during the 2000s, conducted at two different universities, had very different conclusions & interpretations about the origin of the Vanport Flint. A 2003 study concluded that chert at Flint Ridge is biogenic in origin. A 2006 study concluded that the chert is chemical in origin.
Modern flint knappers value the Vanport Flint for being multicolored and high-quality (= very few impurities). With artificial heating, the flint is more easily knapped into arrowheads, spear points, and other objects. Prehistoric Americans quarried the Vanport Flint at many specific sites on Flint Ridge. Old flint pits can be seen along hiking trails in Flint Ridge State Park ("Flint Ridge State Memorial"; "Flint Ridge Ancient Quarries & Nature Preserve"). Many prehistoric artifacts found in Ohio (arrowheads & spearpoints - "projectile points") are composed of Vanport Flint.
The orangish-brown area in this sample is extremely weathered flint - this is called rottenstone or tripoli. The rounded structures that resemble oolites are actually weathering spherulites (click on the photo once or twice to zoom in).
Stratigraphy: Vanport Flint, Allegheny Group, upper Middle Pennsylvanian
Locality: Nethers Flint Quarries - flint pit in the woods on the southwestern side of Flint Ridge Road, eastern Flint Ridge, far-western Muskingum County, east-central Ohio, USA (vicinity of 40° 00.137’ North latitude, 82° 11.544’ West longitude)
Flint-knapped arrowhead.
Knapper: Ed Moreland
Flint is the "official" state gemstone of Ohio (actually, there's no such thing as "official" anything). "Flint" is sometimes used as a lithologic term by modern geologists, but it is a synonym for chert. Flint and chert are the same - they are cryptocrystalline, quartzose sedimentary rocks. Rockhounds often assert that flint is high-quality while chert is low-quality. Some geologists assert that "flint" implies a biogenic origin and "chert" implies a chemical origin.
Many cherts do have a chemical origin - chert nodules are moderately common in some limestone units. The nodules form during diagenesis - pre-existing silica components in the carbonate sediments are dissolved, mobilized, and reprecipitated as chert masses. Some cherts do have a biogenic origin - for example, radiolarian cherts (rich in radiolarian microfossils) or spicular cherts (rich in siliceous sponge spicules).
The most famous flint deposit in Ohio is Flint Ridge, in Licking County. At this locality, the Middle Pennsylvanian-aged Vanport Flint is exposed in several places. The geologic literature on the Vanport Flint is relatively sparse, with inaccurate, incomplete descriptions and characterizations. For example, the literature describes the Vanport as a sheet of flint at Flint Ridge - it's actually a meganodule horizon. Other descriptions refer to the chert as the remains of siliceous sponges. In reality, siliceous sponge spicules are quite scarce in Vanport samples.
Two graduate student projects during the 2000s, conducted at two different universities, had very different conclusions & interpretations about the origin of the Vanport Flint. A 2003 study concluded that chert at Flint Ridge is biogenic in origin. A 2006 study concluded that the chert is chemical in origin.
Modern flint knappers value the Vanport Flint for being multicolored and high-quality (= very few impurities). With artificial heating, the flint is more easily knapped into arrowheads, spear points, and other objects. Prehistoric American Indians quarried the Vanport Flint at many specific sites on Flint Ridge. Old Indian flint pits can be examined along hiking trails in Flint Ridge State Park ("State Memorial"). Many authentic Indian artifacts found in Ohio (arrowheads & spearpoints - "projectile points") are composed of Vanport Flint.
The arrowhead seen here is a modern replica, produced by a skilled knapper named Ed Moreland. The flint itself comes from a Roy Miller flint pit on Flint Ridge. Material from this site is famous for having greenish and/or bluish coloration, which become intensified with heating.
Stratigraphy: Vanport Flint, Allegheny Group, upper Middle Pennsylvanian
Locality: Roy Miller flint pit, northwestern corner of the Brownsville Road-Flint Ridge Road intersection, next to Flint Ridge State Park, Flint Ridge, southeastern Licking County, east-central Ohio, USA
Familiar to residents and visitors alike, the great Victorian spire of St Mary-le-Tower rises above the shopping streets of central Ipswich, the nearest thing the town will ever have to a cathedral. This is Suffolk's Victorian church par excellence. It is full of the spirit of its age, from the Suffolk flushwork to the international gothic of the spire itself. One could no more imagine Ipswich without 'the Tower' than without the Orwell Bridge.
There were six town centre churches dedicated to St Mary in the Middle Ages; four survive, picturesquely differentiated as St Mary le Tower ('the Tower'), St Mary at Elms ('the Elms'), St Mary at Quay and St Mary at Stoke.
There was a church here in 1200, when the Borough of Ipswich was declared in the churchyard by the granting of a charter. When the Diocese of Norwich restored it in the mid-nineteenth century, they decided on a complete rebuild in stone on the same site. The Diocesan Architect R.M. Phipson was chosen for the job, and the old church was effectively demolished in the 1860s, and a new one built in its place. The old foundations were used, with an extension towards Northgate Street, which is why the northern part of the churchyard is so severely cut off.
There never was a north door, and the west door is beautiful but rather useless, since it is below street level and the path merely leads round to the south. The only parts of the medieval church retained were a doorway, the nave arcades, and a few fixtures and fittings. From the outside it is virtually all Phipson's work, all of a piece, and quite magnificent. The flushwork is exuberant; being a flint-knapper must have been a good living in the 1860s.
The entrance is in the style of the area's south-west tower porches, although on a much grander scale. The actual entrance arch seems to have been retained, as it appears to be the same in the photograph of the 1850s (above), albeit with the tablets now removed. If so, then it is 15th century. There is a fine 19th century Madonna and child in the niche above by Richard Pfeiffer, full of Victorian Anglo-catholic sentiment. Away to the east, the same sculptor produced St John the Evangelist and St Mary of Magdala on the end of the chancel.
The spire is about 60m tall. The chequerboard pattern of the lower tower is rather alarming in comparison with the subtlety of some Suffolk churches, but must have been the very thing in the late 19th century (see the same at Butterfield's south porch of St Mary at Stoke), or at least until the confection of St Lawrence across the road was finished 20 years later. The spire is heartier than Phipson's other more feminine Suffolk spires at Great Finborough and Woolpit,.
The porch inside is grand, stone and marble rising to a painted wooden ceilure. St Peter and St Paul, in the windows either side, look on. A little door to the north-east leads up to the belfry, with a ring of thirteen bells. Their renewal was completed in 1999; I am told that it is actually a ring of twelve, and the thirteenth is a sharp 2nd for use when fewer than twelve are rung. The doorway into the church has been given lovely stops representing the Annunciation, with the angel to the west, and Mary at her prayer desk to the east. As part of the Millenium project, all of this has been guilded, and it is all absolutely gorgeous.
Inside, the vastness swallows all sound. Everywhere there is the gleam of polished wood and tile. Sadly, it was fashionable in the 1950s and 1960s to remove tiles from walls, but you can still make out where these would have been. Also removed was the chancel screen. The old memorials crowd uncomfortably at the west end - Phipson was having no truck with them - but the majestic view to the east is testimony to Phipson's competency. Everything is done to the letter, with the finest attention paid to detail.
The demolished church was very dark and serious inside, so it must have made quite a contrast when the town saw inside its new church. There is a drawing of the inside of this in the north aisle, along with part of the Jacobean chancel arch. Now, the great Perpendicular-style west window fills the nave with coloured light in the afternoons, a perfect foil for evening prayer. A fine Charles II royal arms hangs above.
The font is an excellent example of the typical 15th century East Anglian style, and deserves to be better known. It is in very good condition indeed, probably because this was a town that embraced protestantism whole-heartedly, and it was plastered over in the mid-16th century to make it plain and simple. The lions around the pillar stand on human heads, and there are more heads beneath the bowl. On the bowl itself are more lions, in a curious echo of the font of St Peter, albeit some four hundred years later. There are fine brasses from the original church in the chancel. The early 18th century pulpit, contemporary with and similar to the one in the Unitarian chapel, is a bit sombre, but an excellent example of Grinling Gibbons-style carving. The screen moved from the chancel arch can now be found at the east end of the north aisle, where it softens the metal organ pipes. It is slightly older than its near-twin that separates off the Lady Chapel.
The Decorated-style east window has a certain delicacy, and the otherwise windowless and heavy-wooded chancel was clearly designed for dark, shadowy, incense-led worship. The best feature of the chancel, and perhaps of the whole church, is the grand reredos, piscina and sedilia in the sanctuary, all of about 1900. A lush Arts and Crafts crucifixion surmounts the altar, done in gesso work on wood. East Anglian Saints flank the walls. This sanctuary is the ultimate expression of late 19th century Tractarianism in Suffolk. To think that this was only a few decades after the events at Claydon! You really feel as if you might be in a 19th century colonial Cathedral.
The Lady Chapel is also a delightful piece, full of Victorian and Edwardian sentiment. The reredos shows the transfiguation, but I like best the early 20th century paintings on the south wall, especially the touching infant Christ, as he plays at the feet of St Joseph.
The excellent set of twelve apostles and twelve angels on the choir stalls (still in use for their original purpose) are by Pfeiffer, who did the external statues. You can see his signature on the back of St Luke's icon of the Blessed Virgin.
The Victorian stained glass windows in the nave are of variable quality. The woodwork is much better; it is also largely 19th century, much the work of Pfeiffer and the always excellent Henry Ringham; more of his work can be seen at Great Bealings. The front pews are the so-called 'Corporation pews'; the Tower styles itself the civic church of Ipswich, and one can see the same attempt to merge the municipal with the sacramental as at Phipson's other major work for the diocese, the internal restoration of St Peter Mancroft in Norwich. The bench ends show the Ipswich symbols of a seahorse, and a lion carrying a ship.
If you look carefully at the back of the church, however, you will see that the churchwardens pews still retain their medieval bench ends.
The arcades are from the medieval church, and must have had a slender grace rather lost now - they yearn for white light to enfold them.
The famous Cobbold family provided ministers for this church for many years in the 18th and 19th centuries, and their tombs can be seen in the north chancel aisle, beyond the organ. The family embraced Tractarianism wholeheartedly, being largely responsible for the building of St Bartholomew near their home at Holywells Park. They probably had an influence over the Bacon family, whose wealth went towards the rebuilding, and whose symbol of a boar may be found in the floor tiles.
One memorial you must not miss is that to William Smart, MP for Ipswich, which you can find on the wall in the north west corner of the nave. It is painted on wood, and features a panoramic view of the Ipswich townscape as it was in 1599, when he died.
This parish is unusual in having virtually no resident population, and the congregation is of people drawn from a wide area attracted by the liberal teaching, musical tradition and peculiar cathedral-style high churchmanship of the church. It may not be the biggest congregation in Ipswich, but it is a friendly one.