View allAll Photos Tagged knowing
Knowing that Washi A was a high-contrast film and Rodinal isn't known for taming contrast, I did something different. Going by a time on the MDC, I over-exposed the roll by a stop (ASA-6). The results were decent, in some cases a little soft at the edges, but overall I got a little better shadow detail but kept that nice high-contrast look.
You can read the full review online:
www.alexluyckx.com/blog/2023/08/14/film-review-blog-no-98...
Nikon F5 - AF Nikkor 24mm 1:2.8 - FilmWashi A @ ASA-6
Adox Rodinal (1+50) 8:00 @ 20C
Scanner: Epson V700 + Silverfast 9 SE
Editor: Adobe Photoshop CC
Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darkness in other people. But remember,there is always light, even in the darkest of times.
#thoughtoftheday #fullmoon #purnamamengambangcumaberteman
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2 Comments on Instagram:
mardhiah.m: Tdo la semek
akmal_c: @mardhiah.m weh tlg track gotu katku weh
(apologies to VDGG)
This is the John Joseph Moakley U.S. Courthouse in Boston MA.
THE PIONEERS OVER c.
Left the earth in 1983, fingers groping for the galaxies,
reddened eyes stared up into the void, 1,000 stars to be exploited
Somebody help me I'm falling, somebody help me, I'm falling down
Into sky, into earth, into sky, into earth .....
It is so dark around, no life, no hope, no sound
no chance of seeing home again ...
The universe is on fire, exploding without flame.
We are the lost ones; we are the pioneers; we are the lost ones
We are the ones they are going to build a statue for
ten centuries ago or were going to fifteen forward .....
One Last brief whisper in our loved ones' ears
to reassure them and to pierce the fear
standing at controls then still unknown we told the world we were
about to go
Somebody help me I'm missing, somebody help me I'm missing now
touch with my mind, I have no frame,
touch with my mind, I have no frame ...
Well now where is the time and who the hell am I,
here floating in an aimless way?
No-one knows where we are, they can't feel us precisely ..
There is no fear here.
How can such a thing exist in a place where living and knowing
and being have never been heard of?
Doomed to vanish in the flickering light,
disappearing to a darker night,
doomed to vanish in a living death, living anti-matter, anti-breath
Somebody help me I'm losing, somebody help me, I'm losing now
people around, there's no-one to touch,
no people around, no-one to touch.
I am now quite alone, part of a vacant time-zone,
here floating in the void,
only dimly aware of existence, a dimly existing awareness,
I am the lost one, I am the one you fear, I am the lost one,
I am the one who went up into space, or stayed where I was,
or didn't exist in the first place .....
Lyrics by Peter Hammill - Van der Graaf Generator (H to He, Who Am the Only One - 1970)
Does knowing your food, what it does for your health make you wanna eat it or simply to fill and satisfy a hunger?
All rights reserved ©puppies8691
Tomatoes are a member of the deadly nightshade family, and as such were considered toxic, causing many conditions like appendicitis, "brain fever" and cancer. In fact, they may have just the opposite effect. Tomatoes were not even eaten in the US until the early 1800s, when an eccentric New Jersey gentleman Colonel Robert Gibbon Johnson brought them back from a trip overseas. Always one to take advantage of a dramatic opportunity, he announced an amazing display of courage would take place on September 26, 1820. He shocked his hometown of Salem by consuming and entire basket of tomatoes in front of a crowd of spectators, expecting him to keel over any second. Obviously, he didn't and since then tomatoes have been a staple of the American diet and with good reason.
Starting with the basics, tomatoes contain large amounts of vitamin C, providing 40 percent of the daily value (DV). They also contain 15 percent DV of vitamin A, 8 percent DV of potassium, and 7 percent of the recommended dietary allowance (RDA) of iron for women and 10 percent RDA for men.
The red pigment contained in tomatoes is called lycopene. This compound appears to act as an antioxidant, neutralizing free radicals that can damage cells in the body. Only recently, studies have revealed that lycopene may have twice the punch of another well-known antioxidant betacarotene. Studies conducted by Harvard researchers have discovered that men who consumed 10 servings of tomatoes a week, or the equivalent to 10 slices of pizza, can cut the risk of developing prostate cancer by a formidable 45 percent. However, its benefits are not limited to the prostate. Italian researchers have found that those who consume more that 7 servings of raw tomatoes lower the risk of developing rectal colon or stomach cancers by 60 percent. Israeli researchers have found that lycopene is a powerful inhibitor of lung, breast, and endometrial cancer cells. Research has also indicated that the lycopene in tomatoes can help older people stay active longer.
New research is beginning to indicate that tomatoes may be used to help prevent lung cancer. Two powerful compounds found in tomatoes-coumaric acid and chlorogenic acid-are thought to block the effects of nitrosamines. These are compounds that not only are formed naturally in the body, but also are the strongest carcinogen in tobacco smoke. By blocking the effects of these nitrosamines, the chances of lung cancer are reduced significantly.
When choosing your tomatoes, be sure to pick those with the most brilliant shades of red. These indicate the highest amounts of betacarotene and lycopene. Though raw tomatoes are great for you, cooking them releases even more of the benefits. Lycopene is located in the cell wall of the tomato, so by cooking in a bit of oil, this healing compound is more fully released. In addition cooking the tomato in olive oil allows your body to absorb the lycopene better. Don't worry about the availability of fresh tomatoes. Tomatoes don't lose any of their nutritional value in the high heat processing , making canned tomatoes and tomato sauce are both just as viable and beneficial as fresh tomatoes.
Knowing where your food comes from is important. A young spring lamb lies by its mother fast asleep and unaware of its ultimate fate.
Knowing that another batch of snow was coming, I made myself do a drive SE of the city two days ago. I didn’t feel at all like going out, but I think I was out for about 5 hours total. I also needed to check what my car was doing. It worked fine until I was way out east, but when I turned around to start going home, all the lights went out on my dashboard again. They did come on twice, but just very briefly. With sunglasses, I could see nothing, but without sunglasses on I could just make out a few faint numbers. Nothing at all on my GPS screen. I did think about driving straight to Honda again, but then thought that if I took it in, then I would no doubt be collecting it when we were getting the new snow. I will definitely be taking it in, though, as soon as possible.
The very first thing I saw on my drive was a coyote – extremely distant and I was looking at it, wondering if it was a small, dead bush, until it suddenly got up and ran, ha. No photo.
Also took photos of various old barns and sheds, including several new-to-me ones. Called in at Herronton, too, just to take a few shots of the old grain elevator.
Not much at all in the way of birds, apart from two very distant flocks of Gray Partridge, a Rough-legged Hawk, and one extra special sighting. When I was driving westwards on my homeward drive, I suddenly realized that it looked like something white on top of a light pole, right at the intersection before I was going to turn north. A beautiful female Snowy Owl! A few huge truck trailers and other vehicles driving just there, yet the owl chose that pole. I was only sitting in my car for a handful of minutes, and she was looking away from me, apart from two or three quick glances in my direction, so there was no point in taking lots of identical shots. Not the greatest photos, as they were taken through the windscreen. I was SO thankful to see her, as this was the first Snowy Owl of this year for me. Very soon, they will all be flying way up north till next winter.
knowing only the northern Steiermark, one of the federal states of Austria, we wanted to see the famous and beautiful capital Graz and the southern parts of the Steiermark... and met relaxed pupils just before their holidays started
Day 10/366
Knowing the week I have ahead we're not doing anything today except lounging! Brought the car mat down for first time in ages and it's like a brand new toy again. *makes coffee and picks up book*
#day10 #photoaday #photoadaychallenge #366photos #365project #bus #bigredbus #carmat
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Ryan Nyenhuis - photograph by: Ian Levack
Photograph by: Ryan Nyenhuis
Sunday June 15th 2008, Fathers Day. Ryan and I woke with a plan. The plan being to sneak into the abandon R.L. Hearn Thermal Generation Power Plant which is located in the south east area of downtown Toronto. We wanted to photograph the beauty of decay.
We had made a trip over to the power plant a week prior to scout out the area, to see where guards were located and to find easy access inside.
Sneaking past the guard house located at the front of the property and making our way along the north west section of property towards the back of the plant where the barbed wire fence was weakest.
We then smoked three quarters of a joint together before working up the nerve to hop the fence. Ryan went first, watching him hop the fence and dart out into the yard and hiding behind scrap metal for cover then finally making it to the back of the building. Then it was my turn. What excitement that was, knowing your breaking the law to do something adventurous.
After getting onto the property we were standing at the back of the Hearn and looking for our way inside. To do so we had to hop up onto a metal fence post and from there had to reach up and grab a hold of plywood that covered up the tall entrance area. A good 15 foot climb up, over and in.
Once inside the first photo that was taken was the one of Ryan and I standing together, titled "final hours".
This place was like no other we had ever explored together. The shear size of it all was breathtaking and mind blowing at the same time. The beauty of destruction.
After the first photo was taken we started exploring the plant. Taking the necessary precautions we had come prepared with asbestos masks and flashlights.
We had made our way around on the ground floor, through locker rooms, showers, storage rooms. Then we started making our way up stairs to the 2nd and 3rd level offices, had the remainder of our joint together.
From the office levels we went back onto the factory area and started climbing the metal stairs up further still. Some photos show how high up we were in that building.
We then made ourselves up onto the roof. What a view from there looking out over the city core. Looking out over Lake Ontario we saw really dark storm clouds. Ryan pulled out a cigarette and had a smoke.
We were up on the roof for about a half hour before Ryan asked me "what do you want to do now man?". "Do you want to go home now or stay a bit longer and explore?". My camera battery had died at this point and being there any longer served no purpose for me. I was hesitant on a response because at the same time I wanted to keep exploring because the plan was to keep coming back weekend after weekend to explore and document the old structure.
I then agreed to keep exploring. We came in off the roof, coming down a level, walked through a doorway into a long looking dark room. All across the top level of The Hearn runs conveyor belts that run coal from one end to the other. Walking together along the metal grating flooring. Ryan was 2 feet in front of me.
I then ended up tripping over a small extruded piece of metal on the floor, and from that second on I pointed my flashlight directly onto the floor to see where I was walking.
Very shortly after this happens, in mid sentence Ryan just falls into blackness. All I see is from his waist up as he plunges into complete blackness and followed by about 4-5 seconds before hearing a sick crash far below.
I then look 2 feet in front of me and see there is no more floor. My imediant thought is that he is dead. Then my brain clicks "I have to get my best friend out of here".
I then tried my best to back track to get out of the building, taking a route that he and I had not taken to get to this point. All I knew is I had to get out of The Hearn and find someone that could help.
I don't even know how I got out of that place. When I did I came out on the back side of the building, ran around to the guard house screaming for help.
I screamed to the guard that my best friend just fell in there and is hurt really bad, he asked what we were doing in there and I told him we were just taking photos.
The guard then called like every paramedic, fire and police officer in the city. About 10 minutes after the call was made all I could hear were the sirens. Scared and relived at the same time I was.
Once they all showed up I told them Ryan was in there, that we were up high in the building and he fell. All the cops were telling me to retrace my steps, they wanted to see where we came in from. I screamed at them "we don't have time for that right now, my best friend is dying in there". I then started leading them to the front of the Hearn because I knew it was the closet way inside. We get to the front and all entrances were boarded up. One cops said to me "Ian there is no way in through this way, you have to show us where you came in from". I then demanded to the fire fighters that they bust this plywood down to get inside.
Once inside the cops started fucking with my mind, me being in total shock at the time they started asking me where we had explored, they wanted me to take them on what would have been a few hours of exploration, which we didn't have time for.
Then an officer finds his asbestos mask and glasses. My first thought is he was okay, that he somehow managed to crawl out under his own power. I was wrong. His mask and glasses had bounced off of objects on the fall and Ryan was nowhere to be found.
The police tried getting a hold of Rogers Communication to see if they could pin point his location with the cell phone he had on him. They ended up using thermal vision to locate him. He was trapped in a coal hopper located high up in the building.
I was escorted out at this point in time because I was too "hysterical" for the cops liking.
Two and a half hours went by, a fierce thunderstorm was passing through.
While they were working on getting Ryan out I was giving my statement to the police. Never gave one of those in my life. I told them everything that I am writing here right now, everything, even the joint smoking. I had Nothing to hide.
We went in undetected but I didn't care if the whole world was watching at this point, I was doing what any best friend would do. I was trying to save him. City Pulse News was there and I was trying to hide from them. I was scared that this is how his family would find out and how my family would find out, being Fathers days and all.
After two and a half hours of hell they finally got Ryan out. I watched them carry him out on a backboard and I yelled to him that I loved him.
Ryan was rushed to St. Micheal's Hospital, the best in all the city for trauma.
I followed about an hour after him, being escorted in a police car. On the drive one officer said to me "this is going to cost you and your buddy about a hundred thousand dollars for all that had to be done here today". What a jackass thing to say. I responded by saying "I don't give a fuck about money, take all I have from me I don't care, I'm loosing the most important person in my life right now".
We get to the hospital, I enter the trauma wing of St. Micheal's. They told me that I was going to be the one to call the home of the Nyenhuis'. I thought that was insane, and told them I could not make that call, that they would have to.
I then went into the waiting room, sat down. I remember the NBA finals were on the televisions in there and I ended up falling asleep somehow.
Waking to Stevie and Tammy's faces hours later (Stevie being Ryan's room mate and Tammy being Ryan's girlfriend).
Stevie told me that John and Cheryl were on their way and that we could go up stairs to the trauma ward to see Ryan.
The trauma centre, located on the 9th floor of St. Micheal's Hospital.
Hours passed by, as the night went on the news kept getting worse and worse about his condition.
I ended up leaving to come back to my apartment at 6am the following morning, I had to talk to my parents and try and shovel some food into my system. Still being in shock and never got treatment for shock when it happened.
I returned to the hospital at 3pm that day. Only to find nothing had changed with his condition.
Then came the worst words I ever had to hear, Ryan's father coming in the room and telling me it was time to say goodbye to Ryan.
We made our way into where he was being cared for. To see my best friend in the state he was in broke my heart. Blood coming out the back of his head, body black and blue bruised from head to toe, internal damage that could not be repaired, feeling his forehead and it being ice cold. He was laying there in front of us, dead. Machines were the only thing keeping him "alive".
I said my goodbyes to him, telling him that he can't leave me here, he can't leave the creation of Studies In Comfort behind, something that is so brilliant, that we were supposed to take over the world together and do all that was planned. I told him to haunt me.
I then looked at his eyes and saw tears. He may have been brain dead but I know he heard every word I said. Doctors did not give an explanation to what was coming out of his eyes.
If only I had said to Ryan "hey man watch your step" he might still be alive today. I have been told over and over again that I can not blame myself for what happened that day. I sometimes still do.
Ryan and I once had a conversation that if something ever happened to one of us that Studies In Comfort would stop, without a core creator there is no sense to continue it. Well I am going against those wishes. I can't lose what he and I created even before it took off the ground.
I now know my purpose in life. To carry on Studies In Comfort. I must continue on for him, finish off the 3 studio albums we had in the works and continue on with this art form.
Ryan died at the wheel and I have moved his lifeless body to the passengers seat and now a fucking insane madman is driving.
Ryan Nyenhuis, whos favourite artist was Nine Inch Nails, who lived on floor number 9, who wore a roman numeral 9 on his right arm, who died on the 9th floor at St. Micheal's Hospital, Toronto.
Thank you to 55 Division and all the paramedics and fire fighters who helped get Ryan out of that terrible dark place.
Ryan Nyenhuis is survived by his father, John, mother Cheryl, sisters, Jennifer and Leah, their beautiful children, myself and Studies In Comfort.
Ryan John Nyenhuis
July 28th 1981 - June 15th 2008
We love and miss you.
___________________________
All photographs were taken by Ryan Nyenhuis & Ian Levack with a Casio EX-Z1050 camera.
Photograph by: Ryan Nyenhuis
Sunday June 15th 2008, Fathers Day. Ryan and I woke with a plan. The plan being to sneak into the abandon R.L. Hearn Thermal Generation Power Plant which is located in the south east area of downtown Toronto. We wanted to photograph the beauty of decay.
We had made a trip over to the power plant a week prior to scout out the area, to see where guards were located and to find easy access inside.
Sneaking past the guard house located at the front of the property and making our way along the north west section of property towards the back of the plant where the barbed wire fence was weakest.
We then smoked three quarters of a joint together before working up the nerve to hop the fence. Ryan went first, watching him hop the fence and dart out into the yard and hiding behind scrap metal for cover then finally making it to the back of the building. Then it was my turn. What excitement that was, knowing your breaking the law to do something adventurous.
After getting onto the property we were standing at the back of the Hearn and looking for our way inside. To do so we had to hop up onto a metal fence post and from there had to reach up and grab a hold of plywood that covered up the tall entrance area. A good 15 foot climb up, over and in.
Once inside the first photo that was taken was the one of Ryan and I standing together, titled "final hours".
This place was like no other we had ever explored together. The shear size of it all was breathtaking and mind blowing at the same time. The beauty of destruction.
After the first photo was taken we started exploring the plant. Taking the necessary precautions we had come prepared with asbestos masks and flashlights.
We had made our way around on the ground floor, through locker rooms, showers, storage rooms. Then we started making our way up stairs to the 2nd and 3rd level offices, had the remainder of our joint together.
From the office levels we went back onto the factory area and started climbing the metal stairs up further still. Some photos show how high up we were in that building.
We then made ourselves up onto the roof. What a view from there looking out over the city core. Looking out over Lake Ontario we saw really dark storm clouds. Ryan pulled out a cigarette and had a smoke.
We were up on the roof for about a half hour before Ryan asked me "what do you want to do now man?". "Do you want to go home now or stay a bit longer and explore?". My camera battery had died at this point and being there any longer served no purpose for me. I was hesitant on a response because at the same time I wanted to keep exploring because the plan was to keep coming back weekend after weekend to explore and document the old structure.
I then agreed to keep exploring. We came in off the roof, coming down a level, walked through a doorway into a long looking dark room. All across the top level of The Hearn runs conveyor belts that run coal from one end to the other. Walking together along the metal grating flooring. Ryan was 2 feet in front of me.
I then ended up tripping over a small extruded piece of metal on the floor, and from that second on I pointed my flashlight directly onto the floor to see where I was walking.
Very shortly after this happens, in mid sentence Ryan just falls into blackness. All I see is from his waist up as he plunges into complete blackness and followed by about 4-5 seconds before hearing a sick crash far below.
I then look 2 feet in front of me and see there is no more floor. My imediant thought is that he is dead. Then my brain clicks "I have to get my best friend out of here".
I then tried my best to back track to get out of the building, taking a route that he and I had not taken to get to this point. All I knew is I had to get out of The Hearn and find someone that could help.
I don't even know how I got out of that place. When I did I came out on the back side of the building, ran around to the guard house screaming for help.
I screamed to the guard that my best friend just fell in there and is hurt really bad, he asked what we were doing in there and I told him we were just taking photos.
The guard then called like every paramedic, fire and police officer in the city. About 10 minutes after the call was made all I could hear were the sirens. Scared and relived at the same time I was.
Once they all showed up I told them Ryan was in there, that we were up high in the building and he fell. All the cops were telling me to retrace my steps, they wanted to see where we came in from. I screamed at them "we don't have time for that right now, my best friend is dying in there". I then started leading them to the front of the Hearn because I knew it was the closet way inside. We get to the front and all entrances were boarded up. One cops said to me "Ian there is no way in through this way, you have to show us where you came in from". I then demanded to the fire fighters that they bust this plywood down to get inside.
Once inside the cops started fucking with my mind, me being in total shock at the time they started asking me where we had explored, they wanted me to take them on what would have been a few hours of exploration, which we didn't have time for.
Then an officer finds his asbestos mask and glasses. My first thought is he was okay, that he somehow managed to crawl out under his own power. I was wrong. His mask and glasses had bounced off of objects on the fall and Ryan was nowhere to be found.
The police tried getting a hold of Rogers Communication to see if they could pin point his location with the cell phone he had on him. They ended up using thermal vision to locate him. He was trapped in a coal hopper located high up in the building.
I was escorted out at this point in time because I was too "hysterical" for the cops liking.
Two and a half hours went by, a fierce thunderstorm was passing through.
While they were working on getting Ryan out I was giving my statement to the police. Never gave one of those in my life. I told them everything that I am writing here right now, everything, even the joint smoking. I had Nothing to hide.
We went in undetected but I didn't care if the whole world was watching at this point, I was doing what any best friend would do. I was trying to save him. City Pulse News was there and I was trying to hide from them. I was scared that this is how his family would find out and how my family would find out, being Fathers days and all.
After two and a half hours of hell they finally got Ryan out. I watched them carry him out on a backboard and I yelled to him that I loved him.
Ryan was rushed to St. Micheal's Hospital, the best in all the city for trauma.
I followed about an hour after him, being escorted in a police car. On the drive one officer said to me "this is going to cost you and your buddy about a hundred thousand dollars for all that had to be done here today". What a jackass thing to say. I responded by saying "I don't give a fuck about money, take all I have from me I don't care, I'm loosing the most important person in my life right now".
We get to the hospital, I enter the trauma wing of St. Micheal's. They told me that I was going to be the one to call the home of the Nyenhuis'. I thought that was insane, and told them I could not make that call, that they would have to.
I then went into the waiting room, sat down. I remember the NBA finals were on the televisions in there and I ended up falling asleep somehow.
Waking to Stevie and Tammy's faces hours later (Stevie being Ryan's room mate and Tammy being Ryan's girlfriend).
Stevie told me that John and Cheryl were on their way and that we could go up stairs to the trauma ward to see Ryan.
The trauma centre, located on the 9th floor of St. Micheal's Hospital.
Hours passed by, as the night went on the news kept getting worse and worse about his condition.
I ended up leaving to come back to my apartment at 6am the following morning, I had to talk to my parents and try and shovel some food into my system. Still being in shock and never got treatment for shock when it happened.
I returned to the hospital at 3pm that day. Only to find nothing had changed with his condition.
Then came the worst words I ever had to hear, Ryan's father coming in the room and telling me it was time to say goodbye to Ryan.
We made our way into where he was being cared for. To see my best friend in the state he was in broke my heart. Blood coming out the back of his head, body black and blue bruised from head to toe, internal damage that could not be repaired, feeling his forehead and it being ice cold. He was laying there in front of us, dead. Machines were the only thing keeping him "alive".
I said my goodbyes to him, telling him that he can't leave me here, he can't leave the creation of Studies In Comfort behind, something that is so brilliant, that we were supposed to take over the world together and do all that was planned. I told him to haunt me.
I then looked at his eyes and saw tears. He may have been brain dead but I know he heard every word I said. Doctors did not give an explanation to what was coming out of his eyes.
If only I had said to Ryan "hey man watch your step" he might still be alive today. I have been told over and over again that I can not blame myself for what happened that day. I sometimes still do.
Ryan and I once had a conversation that if something ever happened to one of us that Studies In Comfort would stop, without a core creator there is no sense to continue it. Well I am going against those wishes. I can't lose what he and I created even before it took off the ground.
I now know my purpose in life. To carry on Studies In Comfort. I must continue on for him, finish off the 3 studio albums we had in the works and continue on with this art form.
Ryan died at the wheel and I have moved his lifeless body to the passengers seat and now a fucking insane madman is driving.
Ryan Nyenhuis, whos favourite artist was Nine Inch Nails, who lived on floor number 9, who wore a roman numeral 9 on his right arm, who died on the 9th floor at St. Micheal's Hospital, Toronto.
Thank you to 55 Division and all the paramedics and fire fighters who helped get Ryan out of that terrible dark place.
Ryan Nyenhuis is survived by his father, John, mother Cheryl, sisters, Jennifer and Leah, their beautiful children, myself and Studies In Comfort.
Ryan John Nyenhuis
July 28th 1981 - June 15th 2008
We love and miss you.
___________________________
All photographs were taken by Ryan Nyenhuis & Ian Levack with a Casio EX-Z1050 camera.
Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment.
Buddha
Knowing that these colourful birds were still with us and having taken far too many godwit photographs already I decided that I would try my hand at in flight shots as the birds flew to new positions in the wading flock.
These are the attempts, so hang on - remember I did my best but the school resport as it used to say 'could bo better'!!
This chap was coming into land and had started braking.
“She was banging on my door at 2 o’clock this morning,” grumbled Hydra.
“Good grief,” said Cloud.
“She was shouting, ‘for feck sake! Your music’s loud. Do you know what the time is?'” moaned Hydra.
“Ah,” said Cloud. “Did you know the time?”
“Yeah,” said Hydra, “a standard 4/4 rock beat.”
-
A quite literal, badaboomtish! :)
TellyTube Edition: youtu.be/eVlou19uwE8
LittleFears.co.uk
Knowing that this weekend was going to be warmer than usual for November, I decided after work to hike up to Pole Steeple to catch the sunset. I was a little late getting up there, the sun was already behind the mountains, but I was able to catch some light before it was completely gone. This panorama is an eleven photo stitch.
Canon 5D Mark III
Canon 35L @ ƒ/14
Andrew H Wagner (C)2012. All Rights Reserved.
Knowing what to do or where to go at weekends is now easy, I just consult the list of churches and pick a group close at random, and we can load up the car and go.
Main issue is that most of the churches on the list are now in west and north Kent, meaning a bit of a hike to get there, and on top of that, not knowing if your target will be open.
So, with the three churches chosen, postcodes noted, we can prepare for the morning.
Make coffee, feed the cats, fill up the bird feeders and make bacon butties to give us a decent start to the day.
Saturday was dark and gloomy, not a good day perhaps to do church crawling, but what else is there: too gloomy certainly for wildflowers, those that are out. And the flat light, can be good for photography in churches. At least that is what I tell myself.
Off up the A20 to Folkestone, and from there up the motorway, where, after Ashford, Highways England are removing the Operation Brock contraflow barriers. Now, I know I said no more Brexit, but an observation here: Kent MPs lobbied the PM to have these removed as it was a major pain for locals, but the threat of no deal and/or traffic jams caused by increased paperwork check is higher now, and the hundreds of thousands now being spent taking the barriers down could be spent again putting it back up later in the year.
In Brexit, anything is possible.
But back to the churchcrawling.
We turn off at Maidstone, go through Leeds up the down, where along the ridge there are a series of churches overlooking the low-laying land to the south, where the churches served a series of impressive houses set in sloping parkland. From Leeds through Sutton to the two Boughtons, at east half a dozen churches stand looking down on west Kent.
Eighteen months ago, I visited the two Boughtons, and also East Sutton, not realising there were two other churches in Sutton: Valence and Chart. I passed Sutton Valence just as a vintage Rolls depsosited a bride at the lych gate on the "main road". So, no point in trying to crawl that back on the warm September afternoon, but was on my list since then for a return.
And here we were.
The sat nav took us down a narrow lane, with a space large enough to abandon the car in, while I get my gear and walk to the church, trailing behind JOols who had gone to check the door. I get the thumbs up to indicate it was open.
Good news.
Sadly, the church has been stripped of most of its character and history. It is a fine church, nothing wrong with it, but few monuments, no brasses, no medieval features, so my job of recording it was completed in a few minutes. Another tick in the box done, though.
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Stunningly situated on the Greensand Way, yet not altogether enjoying the views, this church is more interesting than beautiful. Incorporating part of a late fifteenth century structure (chancel piers and transept arches) this is predominantly an 1820s church built wide and tall to fit in galleries which were the norm. A blocked door from the tower stairs would have led into the southernmost gallery. Then the in the nineteenth century Mr Habershon, architect to the establishment, Gothicised the church by removing the galleries and fitting arcades to form aisles. He also added tracery to the windows and tried to create a medieval space. It is not unsuccessful. The only weak part is the chancel which ahs a canted apse which speaks of its pre-Ecclesiological origins. The font survives from the medieval church as does a fine thirteenth century coffin lid in the north aisle. Recent redecoration of red carpet and red ceiling has successfully linked the two elements and created a most welcoming and cared for building.
www.kentchurches.info/church.asp?p=Sutton+Valence
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TOWN SUTTON, ALIAS SUTTON VALENCE,
IS the next parish eastward from Chart Sutton. It has the name of Valence from that eminent family, who continued long owners of it, and is called Town Sutton from the largeness of the village or town of it, in comparison of those of the adjoining parishes of the same name.
THE PARISH of Town Sutton is situated much like that of Chart Sutton last described, and the soil the same, being about the hill, the quarry stone covered with a thin loam, fertile for corn, fruit and hops; above it a red earth mixed with flints, and below the hill a stiff clay, rendered more prolific by the mixture of marle with it. The village, now a poor mean place, is situated a little lower than the summit of the quarry hill, having the church at the west end of it; the manor-house stands on the small green adjoining the church-yard, having an extensive view over the country southward. The road from Chart to East Sutton, of but little traffic, leads through the village, and another crosses it from Langley down the hill into the Weald; at a small distance below the village is Sutton-place and the parsonage, and below the foot of the hill the little manor of Forsham, formerly the estate of the Austens, baronets, beyond which this parish extends southward across a low flat country, deep, wet, and miry, till it joins that of Hedcorne; above the village it joins to Kingswood, part of which is within it.
On the brow of the hill at a small distance eastward from the village, and adjoining to the parsonage-yard, stand the venerable ruins of SUTTON CASTLE, now almost covered with ivy, and the branches of the trees which sprout out from the walls of it. What remains of it seems, to have been the keep or dungeon of this fortress, two separate rooms of which are still in being; and by the cavities where the joists have been laid into the walls, appear to have been at least a story higher than they are at present. The remains of the walls are more than three feet in thickness, and about twenty feet high, and have loop-holes for arrows at proper distances; they are composed of the quarry stone and flint mixed, together with some few thin bricks or paying tiles interspersed throughout. The whole appears to have been exceeding strong, though of very rude workmanship; and seems to have been built in the time of the barons wars, most likely by one of the family of Valence, earls of Pembroke, whilst the church and its demesnes yet remained as appendages to their manor of Sutton Valence, and the part of their possessions. It stands high, commanding a most extensive view over the adjacent country southward, and was most probably made use of as a place of defence for the partizans of the lords of it, to make their excursions from, and retreat again to, when likely to be overpowered by their enemies. Fronting the title of this volume is a view of it in its present state.
Kilburne imagines the sea came up this valley underneath Sutton castle, which he supposes to have been built when it did so; and he seems to be confirmed in that opinion by an anchor's having been found not far below it, in the memory of some men then living.
A fair is kept in this village yearly, on the day of St. Edmond the king, on the 20th of November.
THIS PLACE was given by William the Conqueror, on his obtaining the crown of this realm, to his halfbrother Odo, bishop of Baieux; it having been part of the possessions of Leoswine, a younger brother of king Harold, who was slain fighting on his brother's part, at the fatal battle of Hastings; accordingly it is thus entered, under the general title of the bishop's lands, in the survey of Domesday:
Adam Fitzhubert holds of the bishop of Baieux, Sudtone. It was taxed at two sulings. The arable land is seven carucates. In demesne there are two, and eighteen villeins, with five borders, having four carucates. There is a church and four acres of meadow, and one mill. Wood for fifty hogs. In the time of king Edward the Confessor it was worth twelve pounds, when he received it ten pounds, now fourteen pounds, and yet it pays eighteen pounds. Earl Leuuin held it.
Four years after the taking this survey, the bishop was disgraced, and this among the rest of his possessions was confiscated to the crown. After which it became the property of Baldwin de Betun, earl of Albermarle, who in the 5th year of king John's reign, granted this manor, among others in this county, to William Mareschal, earl of Pembroke, with Alice his daughter, in frank marriage.
In the 10th year of king Henry III. he again married Alianore, the king's sister, and in the 14th year of that reign had a confirmation of this manor, upon condition that Alianore his wife, if she survived him, should enjoy it during her life. He died in the 15th year of that reign, s. p. on which the Sheriff had the king's precept to deliver possession of it to his widow. She afterwards re-married Simon de Montfort, earl of Leicester, who was slain in the 49th year of that reign, fighting on the part of the discontented barons, at the battle of Evesham; after which, the countess Alianore and her children were forced to forsake the realm, and she died sometime afterwards in the nunnery of Montarges, in France.
In the mean time the four brothers of William, earl of Pembroke, successively earls of Pembroke, being dead s. p. their inheritance became divided between the heirs of their five sisters, when the manor of Sutton was allotted among others, to Joane, the second sister, then the widow of Warine de Montchensie, (fn. 1) by whom she had one son William, and a daughter Joane, married to William de Valence, the king's half-brother, who in her right became possessed of it. He died in the 23d year of king Edward I. leaving Joane his widow surviving, who had this manor assigned to her as part of her dowry, when it was found to be held of the king in capite, and that it was of the king's marechasly. She left one son, Adomar, or Aymer de Valence, earl of Pembroke, and three daughters,
Aymer, earl of Pembroke, the son, on her death became possessed of this manor. He was murdered in France in the 17th year of king Edward II. being then possessed of this manor of Sutton Valence, for so it was now usually called, and leaving no issue by either of his wives, for he was three times married, his three sisters above-mentioned became his coheirs; of whom Isabel married to John de Hastings, of Bergavenny, seems to have had this manor allotted to her, as part of her share in the inheritance. In consequence of this match, the arms of Hastings quartering Valence, were put up by some of his descendants on the roof of Canterbury cloysters, where they now remain. She was then a widow, her husband having deceased in the 6th year of that reign, leaving John de Hastings his son and heir; who likewise died anno 18 Edward II. leaving no issue by Juliana de Leyborne his then wife. But by his former wife he had one son, Lawrence, who was in the 13th year of king Edward III. made earl of Pembroke, by reason of his descent from Isabel, the eldest sister and coheir of Aymer de Valence, earl of Pembroke; and he died possessed of this manor in the 22d year of that reign, as did his grandson John, earl of Pembroke, s. p. in the 13th year of king Richard II. about which time I find this manor stiled in some records the manor of Sutton Hastings, which name however it soon dropped, and resumed its former one of Valence. Philippa, countess of Pembroke, survived her husband, and afterwards re-married Richard Fitzalan, earl of Arundel, and died in the possession of this manor in the 2d year of king Henry IV. she then bearing the title of countess of Pembroke, when Reginald lord Grey, of Ruthin, became entitled to it, as next of kin, and heir of Aymer, earl of Pembroke; and as such, at the coronation of king Henry the IVth, he carried the great golden spurs. After which being taken prisoner in Wales, by Owen Glendower, he was obliged to give ten thousand marcs for his ransom. To raise which, king Henry in his 4th year, granted licence to Robert Braybrooke, bishop of London, and others, feoffees of several of Reginald's lordships, to sell this manor among others towards the raising of that sum.
They sold it soon afterwards, as it should seem, to St. Leger, for Juliana, widow of Thomas St. Leger, esq. of Otterden, died possessed of it in the 5th year of the next regin of king Henry the Vth. Soon after which it became the property of William Clifford, esq. son of Sir Lewis Clifford, descended from the Cliffords, of Clifford-castle, in Herefordshire, who bore for his arms, Chequy or and azure on a fess gules, a crescent for difference, all within a bordure argent. He was sheriff in the 4th and 13th years of king Henry the VIth, and died three years afterwards, leaving by Eleanor his wife, sister and sole heir of Arnold Savage, esq. of Bobbing, two sons, Lewis and John, of whom Lewis Clifford, the eldest son, died in his life time, leaving a son Alexander, who was of Bobbing, esq. and on his mother's death, in the 19th year of Henry VI. succeeded to this manor. After which it continued in his name down to his grandson Nicholas Clifford, who leaving a sole daughter and heir, Mildred, she carried it in marriage to Sir George Harpur, (fn. 2) who resided at Sutton Valence, where he kept his shrievalty in the 2d year of king Edward VI. and in the windows of the manor house were formerly the coats of arms of the family of Clifford, and their several matches; and among others of Clifford impaling Culpeper, Savage, and Bourne. On the gateway was carved Clifford impaling Isley, quartering Fremingham, and a shield of Isley quartering Fremingham. In the windows of the hall was the coat of Harpur, Argent, a lion rampant sable, within a bordure engrailed of the second, with all its quarterings, and the same impaling Gaynsford, and a coat, Argent, a saltier gules, within a border sable, Bezantee, for De La Poyle. After his death she remarried Sir Edward Moore, who afterwards settled at Mellefont, in Ireland. By her first husband she left a son Edward, who was knighted, and by her second she had several children.
¶She seems to have entitled both her husbands to the possession of this manor during her life, after which it became the property of her son Sir Edward Harpur, who alienated it to Sir Edward Hales, knight and baronet, who died possessed of it in 1654, upon which it came to his grandson and heir, Sir Edward Hales, bart. whose trustees sold it in 1670 to Sir William Drake, of Agmondesham, in Buckinghamshire, and he settled part of it in jointure in 1675, on Elizabeth his wife, daughter, and at length sole heir of William Montague, chief baron of the exchequer, their son, Montague Drake, esq. of Agmondesham, left by Mary, sole daughter and heir of Sir John Gerrard, bart. of Hertfordshire, a son Montague Gerrard Drake, whose trustees, during his infancy, anno 5 queen Anne, having procured an act for that purpose, in 1708 sold this manor with the demesnes, and other estates in this and the adjoining parishes (excepting such of them as were in jointure to dame Elizabeth, widow of Sir William Drake as above mentioned, then the wife of Samuel Trotman, esq. of Siston, in Gloucestershire) to Sir Christopher Desbouverie, of Chart Sutton, (fn. 3) who afterwards in 1720, purchased of Montague Gerrard Drake, esq. the remainder of his estates which had been settled in jointure on his mother as above-mentioned, and so became possessed of the entire fee of them. He died possessed of this manor in 1733, and was buried at Beechworth, in Surry. Since which this manor has descended in like manner as those of Langley and Chart before described, to his youngest daughter, Mrs. Elizabeth Bouverie, now of Teston, the present owner of it. A court leet and court baron is held for this manor.
But though this manor, on the division of Sir Christopher Desbouverie's estates between his two daughters and coheirs, after the death of their two brothers, who both died s. p. was allotted to the youngest, Elizabeth, yet several farms and lands in the out-parts of this and the adjoining parishes, were allotted to the eldest daughter Anne, married to John Hervey, esq. afterwards of Beechworth, which on his death descended to his only son Christopher Hervey, esq.
It should be noticed here, that in the 10th year of king George II. an act passed enabling the family of Desbouverie to use the surname of Bouverie only, in pursuance to the desire of Jacob Desbouverie, esq. and Sir Christopher Desbouverie, deceased.
Charities.
WILLIAM LAMBE, sometime a gentleman of the chapel to king Henry VIII. and a great favorite of that prince, was of the company of cloth-workers, in London, and among many other extensive charities, out of his great love for learning, and for the place where he was born, erected in 1578, at his own proper costs and charges, a free grammer school, in this parish, for the education and instruction of youth, allowing yearly to the moster 20l. and 10l. yearly to the usher from time to time, as either place should be supplied by succession, and to the former a good house and garden to reside in.
MR. GEORGE MAPLESDEN, in 1713, left by will 5l. per annum for 30 English usher, to be appointed by the master of the school.
THERE ARE LIKEWISE two exhibitions of ten pounds per annum each, given to St. John's college, in Cambridge, by will in 1720, by the Rev. Francis Robbins, B. D. who had been fellow of that college, for the benefit of two scholars educated at this school.
The Rev. John Griffin is the present master of this school.
MR. WILLIAM LAMBE, above-mentioned, also founded in the village of Town Sutton six alms-houses, having an orchard and gardens to them, for the benefit of six poor inhabitants of this parish, and allotted the sum of ten pounds to be divided among them yearly, and entrusted the company of cloth-workers with the estates and direction of these charities. By some means 6l. of the above sum has been some-time with-held, and 4l. only is paid yearly. The poor inhabitants are usually appointed by the master of the school. The arms of the founder, being a fess between three cinquefoils, are carved in stone on the front of the alms-houses.
THE REV. MR. ROBBINS above-mentioned, left likewise 3l. to be paid yearly on March 11, to the poor of this parish, by the church-wardens, vested in Mrs. Felicia and Elizabeth Smith.
TOWN SUTTON is within the ECCLESIASTICAL JURISDICTION of the diocese of Canterbury, and deanry of Sutton, to which it was once so considerable as to give name.
The church which stands at a small distance westward from the village, is dedicated to St. Mary. It is a handsome church, the steeple stands on the north side of it, and had a high spire on it formerly, the upper half of which having been burnt down by lightning, it is at that part flat and covered with lead.
This church was antiently an appendage to the manor of Sutton Valence, in which state it continued down to John de Hastings, earl of Pembroke, lord of that manor, who died possessed of it in the 49th year of king Edward II. as appears by the escheat rolls of that year. Soon after which it must have passed into the possession of the priory of Leeds; for in the 2d year of the next reign of king Richard II. that king granted his licence to the above-mentioned priory, to appropriate this church; and it was confirmed to the priory by patents of the 18th and 20th years of king Henry VI. when at the request of the prior and cannons there, the parish church of East Sutton, likewise of their patronage, was united to this church, to which it has been ever since esteemed as a chapel.
On the dissolution of the priory of Leeds in the reign of king Henry VIII. this parsonage, with the advowson of the vicarage, and the chapel of East Sutton annexed, came into the hands of the crown, where it did not continue long, for the king settled it in his 32d year on his new-erected dean and chapter of Rochester, part of whose inheritance it still remains.
The parsonage, with the manor annexed to it, has been for many years held in lease from the dean and chapter, by the family of Payne. Edward Payne, esq. of London, who has been already mentioned before, died in 1794, possessed of the lease of it, and his heirs are now entitled to it.
The advowson of the vicarage is reserved by the dean and chapter in their own hands.
¶On the abolition of deans and chapters, after the death of king Charles the 1st, this parsonage was surveyed by order of the state in 1649, when it was returned, that the parsonage of Sutton Valence, with the rights of it, and the manor or parsonage-house, three barns, a stable, and several other necessary outhouses, with a yard, garden and orchard, containing by estimation two roods, together with the tithes, were altogether worth sixty pounds per annum. All which were let by the late dean and chapter, anno 16 Charles I. to Thomas Shipton, gent. for twenty-one years, at the yearly rent of fourteen pounds, and one quarter of wheat, two quarters of oats, and one good brawn every Christmas; which rent was valued at 18l. 16s. and that the premises were worth upon improvement over and above the said rent 56l. 2s. per annum.
The vicarage of Sutton Valence is endowed with all tithes whatsoever, except corn and hay. It is valued in the king's books at 7l. 9s. 7d. and the yearly tenths at 14s. 11½d.
In 1640 it was valued at seventy-three pounds. Communicants, 226.
The vicar of Sutton Valence serves the cure of the church of East Sutton, as a chapel annexed to it; and as such is entitled to the vicarial tithes of that parish in right of his vicarage, he being presented and inducted to the vicarage of Sutton Valence, with the chapel of East Sutton annexed.
Knowing I was going to be out of action for a few weeks due to a hospital stay, I made the most of getting out for the day with my sister. We came across this attractive Viaduct that runs along side the pretty village of Eynesford. After a visit to Eagle Heights less than a mile away we stopped for a delicious lunch at The Plough in the centre of Eynesford village, highly recommended - that's the pub/restaurant! NOT Eagle Heights :(
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The mission and a word about post content.
I have long had my eye on the weathered facade of Mission San Carlos Borroméo del río Carmelo, popularly known as the Carmel Mission. I have family that lives nearby and have heard about it's historical and aesthetic value in the past. I had a few days in Monterey for work recently and sneaked away to get a few images, stopping for nearly an hour at the mission. In the past, I've posted a single image per day. For a while this was fun, but then I found out that an image per day had a number of unintended consequences. Whenever I was taking photographs, knowing that I was going to post a one per day, I began to think about how many times I needed to come up with something worthy of the blog. Sometimes this meant posting a series of photographs that were very similar or separating photographs that belonged together. Though grabbing 365 interesting images per year isn't very difficult - this accounting exercise is extremely stifling to one's creativity - yet it is impossible to understand how limiting it is until you free yourself from this constraint. Some of my readers undoubtedly shoot for a blog or project that requires one image per day. I wonder, do you ever head out with your camera and in the midst of naturally reacting to what you see - say to yourself, "I need a few more," even when you've grabbed your best images? Do you photograph things you don't value or love, just to get images? Maybe I'm alone here, but I doubt it. Today's post features many images, as will most future posts, so I hope you enjoy (and can wait out posts that are spaced more liberally)!
Ancient history by our standards.
The Mission proper, that is a Christian congregation run by its founder, Father Junípero Serra was first established in Monterey in 1770. Serra, with permission of the Viceroy of New Spain, Carlos Francisco de Croix, marqués de Croix, then moved the Mission to what is now the city of Carmel-by-the-Sea in 1771 because of a power struggle with the military enclave. Depending on the source (either the official Mission website or the various historical brevia available online) this struggle is framed either as a desire to control the direction of New Spanish colonialism or as a battle over the mistreatment of the natives by the governor and his soldiers. The mission Serra founded in Monterey eventually became the Cathedral of San Carlos Borromeo, a.k.a. the Royal Presidio Chapel and still stands as a National Historical Landmark in Monterey. The edifice you see in the photographs below was built by later mission leaders in what is now Carmel-by-the-Sea, the neophytes being served from a smaller, make-shift structure during the first decades of its existence. Typically, I take one or two record shots of information that is available at the site while photographing so that I can retain the information on dates and places that I sometimes have trouble remembering properly. This time I found precious little information in the Basilica and instead had to find as much out online as I could. Interestingly, there is no readily available information online about the interesting statues, curios and relics that are located throughout this beautifully restored mission. Much of what I learned after the fact was about the history of what some call the most beautifully preserved of the California mission chain.
Here is a link to the Wikipedia article on the mission, which contains some information about Father Junípero Serra and his efforts related to this mission, but is woefully short on a number of accounts. I am not a religious person by any stretch of imagination. In fact, I find myself securely camped in the opposite extreme, but this is not the place or the time for a discussion about God or faith, etc. Instead, I am interested in the mission as it relates to human history and the early history of California. Furthermore, I have an interest in how we connect to the narrative thread of historical places like the mission and how I can use my camera to capture moments of beauty within these places.
The story of the Camel Mission is but one fascinating chapter in the story of the Spanish colonization of Mexico and the Americas. At the time, these missions and the nearby Presidios (military outposts) represented the first formal European establishments focused on colonizing the west coast. The Viceroys sent explorers, soldiers and members of the Franciscan Order to bring "civilization" (and it's attendant religious trappings) to the native Americans. Within this post I will refrain from considering what benefits, if any, were brought to the native peoples by the introduction of the mission chain into Alta California. New Spain was an empire whose lifespan is still longer than the American timeline, with aristocratic titles originating in the 16th century. The trail of European devastation through native populations begins at about the same time and includes names of these original dignitaries - Cortés and Pizarro. Although Christians may feel differently, it isn't clear to me that Serra and the mission movement brought anything to the Indians besides an acceleration of destructive European influence. Yet, some readers will note that waves of devastation had damaged native populations throughout the Americas both before and after the arrival of Europeans, and that by all accounts the Father Serra was a truly dedicated missionary and cared deeply about fulfilling his oaths and tending his flock. The magnitude of devastation both natural, domestically made and of European origin are topics I do not pretend to fully comprehend. How the mission system fits into the tragic backdrop of these events is something I think is best left to the historians. Serra, true to his word, worked until death building the mission and died with nothing more than a cot, his habit and a few other daily trappings - having worked continually to do what he thought was best for the native members of his congregation. There was, and still is, a chain of 21 missions extending from San Diego to Sonoma, north of San Francisco, and the Mission San Carlos Borroméo del río Carmelo is widely accepted as one of the most faithfully restored/preserved.
A large step backward in time.
I love visiting places like the mission because they represent such a strong counterpoint to much of the tourist-trap culture in which an out-of-towner like myself might normally find himself. There is a reason you'll never see a photograph of Disneyworld on this blog. Some places, though commercially successful and valuable for one reason (or person) or another, for me possess no aesthetic or cultural value and will simply not see the business end of my camera. I think all people make this mental calculation when photographing and each person's calculation will be different from his peers. Here at the mission, outside of the labyrinthian giftshop, I find myself standing in a square flanked by a museum and the stately, aging facade of the capilla of the Mission San Carlos Borroméo del río Carmelo. The rose window, Moorish bell-tower dome and roughly hewn door are your first clues that stepping inside is stepping back over 200 years in time.
The chapel is no stranger to a camera, but whenever I am in a place like this I am very careful not to disturb the atmosphere of the place or my fellow visitors. I extend my tripod legs outside the building and, if I am taking bracketed images for HDR, wait between taking images so that I don't create a continual noise of my shutter clacking open and closed.
Just inside the wooden doors the soft white light of Monterey marine-layer-noon drops to zero and the chapel is lit by a single hanging lamp, votive candles and a few recessed windows. A large stoup of holy water is held within an ancient iron basin atop a carved wooden pedestal placed upon an ornate and plush rug. A long center aisle extends beyond the stoup, through the pews to the apse.
The walls are adorned with various oil paintings of religious and historical personages and events. Just past the first set of pews is the entrance to the burial chapel to the left and an image of the Sacred Heart of Jesus to the right. The air is cool and calm and I was nearly alone here in the nave.
The burial chapel has no external light and is instead lit by a single set of votives and the hanging lamp. I could not find any information on the figure of Our Lady of Bethlehem within glass frame above the altar, but did discover that the previous Pope, John Paul II had visited the mission in September of 1987 and designated it a Minor Basilica. As I took these images, I waited for many other visitors to percolate through the burial chamber. Many of these folks would stop and take a photograph of the plaque you see on the floor commemorating the papal visit. I found this to be a particularly interesting vignette of the sieving capacity of memory. Within the hallowed grounds of this mission there are layers of memory and narrative history to which we connect in different ways. Perhaps more than any other pope I can name, the previous Catholic leader was truly an example of a fascinating individual who used his political influence for good, yet I do not connect to his story as strongly as I do to the historical thread of the California missions. Then again, I'm not a Catholic.
Through the central aisle, up to the altar and then to the left is a claustrophobic and darkened alcove with a small altar and votive. I found this corner of the mission the most interesting to photograph. Here the room is lit by a small gas lamp and a round votive stand, the light flickering and revealing the carefully painted walls and ceilings. The air is richly perfumed by the hanging thurible above the votives. A mirror and door provide all the frames a photographer could possibly need and I played a bit with my position relative to the door to frame both the door to the sacristy and the relic containing the fragments of the Fray Serra's original coffin. Here we go beyond the literal narratives within the mission and invent our own stories. A penitent or devout missionary shuffles through these halls, observing his duties and escaping the damp cold of a coastal winter. A modern pilgrim stops to say a prayer and light a votive, sharing the same footsteps as his invisible predecessor. Recreating the mood and memory of places like this little alcove by an act as simple as taking a photograph is my favorite pastime.
The beautified Serra is interred just before the altar along with several other figures who feature prominently within the history of the Carmel Mission.
Knowing that an errand of Mrs B's would find me with some hours to spare in Wolverhampton, I seized the opportunity to revisit some old haunts. I don't think I had been to the town, other than to pass through, since the occasion of the previous photograph, now moved from further back in my photostream for comparative purposes. I printed a copy to take with me. Apart from the obvious removal of the chimney and cooling tower, the scene was astonishingly unchanged. A crop to exactly match the older photograph resulted in a noticeable change of aspect ratio (I don't understand why) but I have left more of the right edge to show that the conveyor visible at the top of the old picture appears to be still in use, though in a different position. The premises on the right, bounded by a row of oil drums, whose condition suggested that they were the same ones indistinctly visible in the 1970 photo, is a coal merchant. The yard contained what appeared to be a private owner coal truck, dating from before the nationalisation of the railways.
It was an odd sensation, to stand on the exact spot where that youthful self, so different, yet so much the same, had stood forty years ago. I had been wearing an ex-army greatcoat and carrying my Coronet Cub camera in my pocket. On that day in January 1970 I had walked along the canal as far as Dudley Port, where the vile cold had forced an early return to home. On the present occasion I walked for a mile along the towpath. Where the water had steamed and opalescent bubbles wobbled to the surface if the bed were disturbed with a stick, now canada geese and moorhens dabbled, and anglers sat on the bank. This is a development about which my feelings are ambivalent. The strange thing to me was that, although I had been here only twice, over forty years ago, each scene that opened before me as I turned the kinks in the path, was instantly, uncannily familiar.
Photograph by: Ryan Nyenhuis
Sunday June 15th 2008, Fathers Day. Ryan and I woke with a plan. The plan being to sneak into the abandon R.L. Hearn Thermal Generation Power Plant which is located in the south east area of downtown Toronto. We wanted to photograph the beauty of decay.
We had made a trip over to the power plant a week prior to scout out the area, to see where guards were located and to find easy access inside.
Sneaking past the guard house located at the front of the property and making our way along the north west section of property towards the back of the plant where the barbed wire fence was weakest.
We then smoked three quarters of a joint together before working up the nerve to hop the fence. Ryan went first, watching him hop the fence and dart out into the yard and hiding behind scrap metal for cover then finally making it to the back of the building. Then it was my turn. What excitement that was, knowing your breaking the law to do something adventurous.
After getting onto the property we were standing at the back of the Hearn and looking for our way inside. To do so we had to hop up onto a metal fence post and from there had to reach up and grab a hold of plywood that covered up the tall entrance area. A good 15 foot climb up, over and in.
Once inside the first photo that was taken was the one of Ryan and I standing together, titled "final hours".
This place was like no other we had ever explored together. The shear size of it all was breathtaking and mind blowing at the same time. The beauty of destruction.
After the first photo was taken we started exploring the plant. Taking the necessary precautions we had come prepared with asbestos masks and flashlights.
We had made our way around on the ground floor, through locker rooms, showers, storage rooms. Then we started making our way up stairs to the 2nd and 3rd level offices, had the remainder of our joint together.
From the office levels we went back onto the factory area and started climbing the metal stairs up further still. Some photos show how high up we were in that building.
We then made ourselves up onto the roof. What a view from there looking out over the city core. Looking out over Lake Ontario we saw really dark storm clouds. Ryan pulled out a cigarette and had a smoke.
We were up on the roof for about a half hour before Ryan asked me "what do you want to do now man?". "Do you want to go home now or stay a bit longer and explore?". My camera battery had died at this point and being there any longer served no purpose for me. I was hesitant on a response because at the same time I wanted to keep exploring because the plan was to keep coming back weekend after weekend to explore and document the old structure.
I then agreed to keep exploring. We came in off the roof, coming down a level, walked through a doorway into a long looking dark room. All across the top level of The Hearn runs conveyor belts that run coal from one end to the other. Walking together along the metal grating flooring. Ryan was 2 feet in front of me.
I then ended up tripping over a small extruded piece of metal on the floor, and from that second on I pointed my flashlight directly onto the floor to see where I was walking.
Very shortly after this happens, in mid sentence Ryan just falls into blackness. All I see is from his waist up as he plunges into complete blackness and followed by about 4-5 seconds before hearing a sick crash far below.
I then look 2 feet in front of me and see there is no more floor. My imediant thought is that he is dead. Then my brain clicks "I have to get my best friend out of here".
I then tried my best to back track to get out of the building, taking a route that he and I had not taken to get to this point. All I knew is I had to get out of The Hearn and find someone that could help.
I don't even know how I got out of that place. When I did I came out on the back side of the building, ran around to the guard house screaming for help.
I screamed to the guard that my best friend just fell in there and is hurt really bad, he asked what we were doing in there and I told him we were just taking photos.
The guard then called like every paramedic, fire and police officer in the city. About 10 minutes after the call was made all I could hear were the sirens. Scared and relived at the same time I was.
Once they all showed up I told them Ryan was in there, that we were up high in the building and he fell. All the cops were telling me to retrace my steps, they wanted to see where we came in from. I screamed at them "we don't have time for that right now, my best friend is dying in there". I then started leading them to the front of the Hearn because I knew it was the closet way inside. We get to the front and all entrances were boarded up. One cops said to me "Ian there is no way in through this way, you have to show us where you came in from". I then demanded to the fire fighters that they bust this plywood down to get inside.
Once inside the cops started fucking with my mind, me being in total shock at the time they started asking me where we had explored, they wanted me to take them on what would have been a few hours of exploration, which we didn't have time for.
Then an officer finds his asbestos mask and glasses. My first thought is he was okay, that he somehow managed to crawl out under his own power. I was wrong. His mask and glasses had bounced off of objects on the fall and Ryan was nowhere to be found.
The police tried getting a hold of Rogers Communication to see if they could pin point his location with the cell phone he had on him. They ended up using thermal vision to locate him. He was trapped in a coal hopper located high up in the building.
I was escorted out at this point in time because I was too "hysterical" for the cops liking.
Two and a half hours went by, a fierce thunderstorm was passing through.
While they were working on getting Ryan out I was giving my statement to the police. Never gave one of those in my life. I told them everything that I am writing here right now, everything, even the joint smoking. I had Nothing to hide.
We went in undetected but I didn't care if the whole world was watching at this point, I was doing what any best friend would do. I was trying to save him. City Pulse News was there and I was trying to hide from them. I was scared that this is how his family would find out and how my family would find out, being Fathers days and all.
After two and a half hours of hell they finally got Ryan out. I watched them carry him out on a backboard and I yelled to him that I loved him.
Ryan was rushed to St. Micheal's Hospital, the best in all the city for trauma.
I followed about an hour after him, being escorted in a police car. On the drive one officer said to me "this is going to cost you and your buddy about a hundred thousand dollars for all that had to be done here today". What a jackass thing to say. I responded by saying "I don't give a fuck about money, take all I have from me I don't care, I'm loosing the most important person in my life right now".
We get to the hospital, I enter the trauma wing of St. Micheal's. They told me that I was going to be the one to call the home of the Nyenhuis'. I thought that was insane, and told them I could not make that call, that they would have to.
I then went into the waiting room, sat down. I remember the NBA finals were on the televisions in there and I ended up falling asleep somehow.
Waking to Stevie and Tammy's faces hours later (Stevie being Ryan's room mate and Tammy being Ryan's girlfriend).
Stevie told me that John and Cheryl were on their way and that we could go up stairs to the trauma ward to see Ryan.
The trauma centre, located on the 9th floor of St. Micheal's Hospital.
Hours passed by, as the night went on the news kept getting worse and worse about his condition.
I ended up leaving to come back to my apartment at 6am the following morning, I had to talk to my parents and try and shovel some food into my system. Still being in shock and never got treatment for shock when it happened.
I returned to the hospital at 3pm that day. Only to find nothing had changed with his condition.
Then came the worst words I ever had to hear, Ryan's father coming in the room and telling me it was time to say goodbye to Ryan.
We made our way into where he was being cared for. To see my best friend in the state he was in broke my heart. Blood coming out the back of his head, body black and blue bruised from head to toe, internal damage that could not be repaired, feeling his forehead and it being ice cold. He was laying there in front of us, dead. Machines were the only thing keeping him "alive".
I said my goodbyes to him, telling him that he can't leave me here, he can't leave the creation of Studies In Comfort behind, something that is so brilliant, that we were supposed to take over the world together and do all that was planned. I told him to haunt me.
I then looked at his eyes and saw tears. He may have been brain dead but I know he heard every word I said. Doctors did not give an explanation to what was coming out of his eyes.
If only I had said to Ryan "hey man watch your step" he might still be alive today. I have been told over and over again that I can not blame myself for what happened that day. I sometimes still do.
Ryan and I once had a conversation that if something ever happened to one of us that Studies In Comfort would stop, without a core creator there is no sense to continue it. Well I am going against those wishes. I can't lose what he and I created even before it took off the ground.
I now know my purpose in life. To carry on Studies In Comfort. I must continue on for him, finish off the 3 studio albums we had in the works and continue on with this art form.
Ryan died at the wheel and I have moved his lifeless body to the passengers seat and now a fucking insane madman is driving.
Ryan Nyenhuis, whos favourite artist was Nine Inch Nails, who lived on floor number 9, who wore a roman numeral 9 on his right arm, who died on the 9th floor at St. Micheal's Hospital, Toronto.
Thank you to 55 Division and all the paramedics and fire fighters who helped get Ryan out of that terrible dark place.
Ryan Nyenhuis is survived by his father, John, mother Cheryl, sisters, Jennifer and Leah, their beautiful children, myself and Studies In Comfort.
Ryan John Nyenhuis
July 28th 1981 - June 15th 2008
We love and miss you.
___________________________
All photographs were taken by Ryan Nyenhuis & Ian Levack with a Casio EX-Z1050 camera.
12 x 9 , inches, mixed media painting on paper. May 2026. All my artworks are available for purchase on scottbergey.etsy.com
Knowing what to do or where to go at weekends is now easy, I just consult the list of churches and pick a group close at random, and we can load up the car and go.
Main issue is that most of the churches on the list are now in west and north Kent, meaning a bit of a hike to get there, and on top of that, not knowing if your target will be open.
So, with the three churches chosen, postcodes noted, we can prepare for the morning.
Make coffee, feed the cats, fill up the bird feeders and make bacon butties to give us a decent start to the day.
Saturday was dark and gloomy, not a good day perhaps to do church crawling, but what else is there: too gloomy certainly for wildflowers, those that are out. And the flat light, can be good for photography in churches. At least that is what I tell myself.
Off up the A20 to Folkestone, and from there up the motorway, where, after Ashford, Highways England are removing the Operation Brock contraflow barriers. Now, I know I said no more Brexit, but an observation here: Kent MPs lobbied the PM to have these removed as it was a major pain for locals, but the threat of no deal and/or traffic jams caused by increased paperwork check is higher now, and the hundreds of thousands now being spent taking the barriers down could be spent again putting it back up later in the year.
In Brexit, anything is possible.
But back to the churchcrawling.
We turn off at Maidstone, go through Leeds up the down, where along the ridge there are a series of churches overlooking the low-laying land to the south, where the churches served a series of impressive houses set in sloping parkland. From Leeds through Sutton to the two Boughtons, at east half a dozen churches stand looking down on west Kent.
Eighteen months ago, I visited the two Boughtons, and also East Sutton, not realising there were two other churches in Sutton: Valence and Chart. I passed Sutton Valence just as a vintage Rolls depsosited a bride at the lych gate on the "main road". So, no point in trying to crawl that back on the warm September afternoon, but was on my list since then for a return.
And here we were.
The sat nav took us down a narrow lane, with a space large enough to abandon the car in, while I get my gear and walk to the church, trailing behind JOols who had gone to check the door. I get the thumbs up to indicate it was open.
Good news.
Sadly, the church has been stripped of most of its character and history. It is a fine church, nothing wrong with it, but few monuments, no brasses, no medieval features, so my job of recording it was completed in a few minutes. Another tick in the box done, though.
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Stunningly situated on the Greensand Way, yet not altogether enjoying the views, this church is more interesting than beautiful. Incorporating part of a late fifteenth century structure (chancel piers and transept arches) this is predominantly an 1820s church built wide and tall to fit in galleries which were the norm. A blocked door from the tower stairs would have led into the southernmost gallery. Then the in the nineteenth century Mr Habershon, architect to the establishment, Gothicised the church by removing the galleries and fitting arcades to form aisles. He also added tracery to the windows and tried to create a medieval space. It is not unsuccessful. The only weak part is the chancel which ahs a canted apse which speaks of its pre-Ecclesiological origins. The font survives from the medieval church as does a fine thirteenth century coffin lid in the north aisle. Recent redecoration of red carpet and red ceiling has successfully linked the two elements and created a most welcoming and cared for building.
www.kentchurches.info/church.asp?p=Sutton+Valence
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TOWN SUTTON, ALIAS SUTTON VALENCE,
IS the next parish eastward from Chart Sutton. It has the name of Valence from that eminent family, who continued long owners of it, and is called Town Sutton from the largeness of the village or town of it, in comparison of those of the adjoining parishes of the same name.
THE PARISH of Town Sutton is situated much like that of Chart Sutton last described, and the soil the same, being about the hill, the quarry stone covered with a thin loam, fertile for corn, fruit and hops; above it a red earth mixed with flints, and below the hill a stiff clay, rendered more prolific by the mixture of marle with it. The village, now a poor mean place, is situated a little lower than the summit of the quarry hill, having the church at the west end of it; the manor-house stands on the small green adjoining the church-yard, having an extensive view over the country southward. The road from Chart to East Sutton, of but little traffic, leads through the village, and another crosses it from Langley down the hill into the Weald; at a small distance below the village is Sutton-place and the parsonage, and below the foot of the hill the little manor of Forsham, formerly the estate of the Austens, baronets, beyond which this parish extends southward across a low flat country, deep, wet, and miry, till it joins that of Hedcorne; above the village it joins to Kingswood, part of which is within it.
On the brow of the hill at a small distance eastward from the village, and adjoining to the parsonage-yard, stand the venerable ruins of SUTTON CASTLE, now almost covered with ivy, and the branches of the trees which sprout out from the walls of it. What remains of it seems, to have been the keep or dungeon of this fortress, two separate rooms of which are still in being; and by the cavities where the joists have been laid into the walls, appear to have been at least a story higher than they are at present. The remains of the walls are more than three feet in thickness, and about twenty feet high, and have loop-holes for arrows at proper distances; they are composed of the quarry stone and flint mixed, together with some few thin bricks or paying tiles interspersed throughout. The whole appears to have been exceeding strong, though of very rude workmanship; and seems to have been built in the time of the barons wars, most likely by one of the family of Valence, earls of Pembroke, whilst the church and its demesnes yet remained as appendages to their manor of Sutton Valence, and the part of their possessions. It stands high, commanding a most extensive view over the adjacent country southward, and was most probably made use of as a place of defence for the partizans of the lords of it, to make their excursions from, and retreat again to, when likely to be overpowered by their enemies. Fronting the title of this volume is a view of it in its present state.
Kilburne imagines the sea came up this valley underneath Sutton castle, which he supposes to have been built when it did so; and he seems to be confirmed in that opinion by an anchor's having been found not far below it, in the memory of some men then living.
A fair is kept in this village yearly, on the day of St. Edmond the king, on the 20th of November.
THIS PLACE was given by William the Conqueror, on his obtaining the crown of this realm, to his halfbrother Odo, bishop of Baieux; it having been part of the possessions of Leoswine, a younger brother of king Harold, who was slain fighting on his brother's part, at the fatal battle of Hastings; accordingly it is thus entered, under the general title of the bishop's lands, in the survey of Domesday:
Adam Fitzhubert holds of the bishop of Baieux, Sudtone. It was taxed at two sulings. The arable land is seven carucates. In demesne there are two, and eighteen villeins, with five borders, having four carucates. There is a church and four acres of meadow, and one mill. Wood for fifty hogs. In the time of king Edward the Confessor it was worth twelve pounds, when he received it ten pounds, now fourteen pounds, and yet it pays eighteen pounds. Earl Leuuin held it.
Four years after the taking this survey, the bishop was disgraced, and this among the rest of his possessions was confiscated to the crown. After which it became the property of Baldwin de Betun, earl of Albermarle, who in the 5th year of king John's reign, granted this manor, among others in this county, to William Mareschal, earl of Pembroke, with Alice his daughter, in frank marriage.
In the 10th year of king Henry III. he again married Alianore, the king's sister, and in the 14th year of that reign had a confirmation of this manor, upon condition that Alianore his wife, if she survived him, should enjoy it during her life. He died in the 15th year of that reign, s. p. on which the Sheriff had the king's precept to deliver possession of it to his widow. She afterwards re-married Simon de Montfort, earl of Leicester, who was slain in the 49th year of that reign, fighting on the part of the discontented barons, at the battle of Evesham; after which, the countess Alianore and her children were forced to forsake the realm, and she died sometime afterwards in the nunnery of Montarges, in France.
In the mean time the four brothers of William, earl of Pembroke, successively earls of Pembroke, being dead s. p. their inheritance became divided between the heirs of their five sisters, when the manor of Sutton was allotted among others, to Joane, the second sister, then the widow of Warine de Montchensie, (fn. 1) by whom she had one son William, and a daughter Joane, married to William de Valence, the king's half-brother, who in her right became possessed of it. He died in the 23d year of king Edward I. leaving Joane his widow surviving, who had this manor assigned to her as part of her dowry, when it was found to be held of the king in capite, and that it was of the king's marechasly. She left one son, Adomar, or Aymer de Valence, earl of Pembroke, and three daughters,
Aymer, earl of Pembroke, the son, on her death became possessed of this manor. He was murdered in France in the 17th year of king Edward II. being then possessed of this manor of Sutton Valence, for so it was now usually called, and leaving no issue by either of his wives, for he was three times married, his three sisters above-mentioned became his coheirs; of whom Isabel married to John de Hastings, of Bergavenny, seems to have had this manor allotted to her, as part of her share in the inheritance. In consequence of this match, the arms of Hastings quartering Valence, were put up by some of his descendants on the roof of Canterbury cloysters, where they now remain. She was then a widow, her husband having deceased in the 6th year of that reign, leaving John de Hastings his son and heir; who likewise died anno 18 Edward II. leaving no issue by Juliana de Leyborne his then wife. But by his former wife he had one son, Lawrence, who was in the 13th year of king Edward III. made earl of Pembroke, by reason of his descent from Isabel, the eldest sister and coheir of Aymer de Valence, earl of Pembroke; and he died possessed of this manor in the 22d year of that reign, as did his grandson John, earl of Pembroke, s. p. in the 13th year of king Richard II. about which time I find this manor stiled in some records the manor of Sutton Hastings, which name however it soon dropped, and resumed its former one of Valence. Philippa, countess of Pembroke, survived her husband, and afterwards re-married Richard Fitzalan, earl of Arundel, and died in the possession of this manor in the 2d year of king Henry IV. she then bearing the title of countess of Pembroke, when Reginald lord Grey, of Ruthin, became entitled to it, as next of kin, and heir of Aymer, earl of Pembroke; and as such, at the coronation of king Henry the IVth, he carried the great golden spurs. After which being taken prisoner in Wales, by Owen Glendower, he was obliged to give ten thousand marcs for his ransom. To raise which, king Henry in his 4th year, granted licence to Robert Braybrooke, bishop of London, and others, feoffees of several of Reginald's lordships, to sell this manor among others towards the raising of that sum.
They sold it soon afterwards, as it should seem, to St. Leger, for Juliana, widow of Thomas St. Leger, esq. of Otterden, died possessed of it in the 5th year of the next regin of king Henry the Vth. Soon after which it became the property of William Clifford, esq. son of Sir Lewis Clifford, descended from the Cliffords, of Clifford-castle, in Herefordshire, who bore for his arms, Chequy or and azure on a fess gules, a crescent for difference, all within a bordure argent. He was sheriff in the 4th and 13th years of king Henry the VIth, and died three years afterwards, leaving by Eleanor his wife, sister and sole heir of Arnold Savage, esq. of Bobbing, two sons, Lewis and John, of whom Lewis Clifford, the eldest son, died in his life time, leaving a son Alexander, who was of Bobbing, esq. and on his mother's death, in the 19th year of Henry VI. succeeded to this manor. After which it continued in his name down to his grandson Nicholas Clifford, who leaving a sole daughter and heir, Mildred, she carried it in marriage to Sir George Harpur, (fn. 2) who resided at Sutton Valence, where he kept his shrievalty in the 2d year of king Edward VI. and in the windows of the manor house were formerly the coats of arms of the family of Clifford, and their several matches; and among others of Clifford impaling Culpeper, Savage, and Bourne. On the gateway was carved Clifford impaling Isley, quartering Fremingham, and a shield of Isley quartering Fremingham. In the windows of the hall was the coat of Harpur, Argent, a lion rampant sable, within a bordure engrailed of the second, with all its quarterings, and the same impaling Gaynsford, and a coat, Argent, a saltier gules, within a border sable, Bezantee, for De La Poyle. After his death she remarried Sir Edward Moore, who afterwards settled at Mellefont, in Ireland. By her first husband she left a son Edward, who was knighted, and by her second she had several children.
¶She seems to have entitled both her husbands to the possession of this manor during her life, after which it became the property of her son Sir Edward Harpur, who alienated it to Sir Edward Hales, knight and baronet, who died possessed of it in 1654, upon which it came to his grandson and heir, Sir Edward Hales, bart. whose trustees sold it in 1670 to Sir William Drake, of Agmondesham, in Buckinghamshire, and he settled part of it in jointure in 1675, on Elizabeth his wife, daughter, and at length sole heir of William Montague, chief baron of the exchequer, their son, Montague Drake, esq. of Agmondesham, left by Mary, sole daughter and heir of Sir John Gerrard, bart. of Hertfordshire, a son Montague Gerrard Drake, whose trustees, during his infancy, anno 5 queen Anne, having procured an act for that purpose, in 1708 sold this manor with the demesnes, and other estates in this and the adjoining parishes (excepting such of them as were in jointure to dame Elizabeth, widow of Sir William Drake as above mentioned, then the wife of Samuel Trotman, esq. of Siston, in Gloucestershire) to Sir Christopher Desbouverie, of Chart Sutton, (fn. 3) who afterwards in 1720, purchased of Montague Gerrard Drake, esq. the remainder of his estates which had been settled in jointure on his mother as above-mentioned, and so became possessed of the entire fee of them. He died possessed of this manor in 1733, and was buried at Beechworth, in Surry. Since which this manor has descended in like manner as those of Langley and Chart before described, to his youngest daughter, Mrs. Elizabeth Bouverie, now of Teston, the present owner of it. A court leet and court baron is held for this manor.
But though this manor, on the division of Sir Christopher Desbouverie's estates between his two daughters and coheirs, after the death of their two brothers, who both died s. p. was allotted to the youngest, Elizabeth, yet several farms and lands in the out-parts of this and the adjoining parishes, were allotted to the eldest daughter Anne, married to John Hervey, esq. afterwards of Beechworth, which on his death descended to his only son Christopher Hervey, esq.
It should be noticed here, that in the 10th year of king George II. an act passed enabling the family of Desbouverie to use the surname of Bouverie only, in pursuance to the desire of Jacob Desbouverie, esq. and Sir Christopher Desbouverie, deceased.
Charities.
WILLIAM LAMBE, sometime a gentleman of the chapel to king Henry VIII. and a great favorite of that prince, was of the company of cloth-workers, in London, and among many other extensive charities, out of his great love for learning, and for the place where he was born, erected in 1578, at his own proper costs and charges, a free grammer school, in this parish, for the education and instruction of youth, allowing yearly to the moster 20l. and 10l. yearly to the usher from time to time, as either place should be supplied by succession, and to the former a good house and garden to reside in.
MR. GEORGE MAPLESDEN, in 1713, left by will 5l. per annum for 30 English usher, to be appointed by the master of the school.
THERE ARE LIKEWISE two exhibitions of ten pounds per annum each, given to St. John's college, in Cambridge, by will in 1720, by the Rev. Francis Robbins, B. D. who had been fellow of that college, for the benefit of two scholars educated at this school.
The Rev. John Griffin is the present master of this school.
MR. WILLIAM LAMBE, above-mentioned, also founded in the village of Town Sutton six alms-houses, having an orchard and gardens to them, for the benefit of six poor inhabitants of this parish, and allotted the sum of ten pounds to be divided among them yearly, and entrusted the company of cloth-workers with the estates and direction of these charities. By some means 6l. of the above sum has been some-time with-held, and 4l. only is paid yearly. The poor inhabitants are usually appointed by the master of the school. The arms of the founder, being a fess between three cinquefoils, are carved in stone on the front of the alms-houses.
THE REV. MR. ROBBINS above-mentioned, left likewise 3l. to be paid yearly on March 11, to the poor of this parish, by the church-wardens, vested in Mrs. Felicia and Elizabeth Smith.
TOWN SUTTON is within the ECCLESIASTICAL JURISDICTION of the diocese of Canterbury, and deanry of Sutton, to which it was once so considerable as to give name.
The church which stands at a small distance westward from the village, is dedicated to St. Mary. It is a handsome church, the steeple stands on the north side of it, and had a high spire on it formerly, the upper half of which having been burnt down by lightning, it is at that part flat and covered with lead.
This church was antiently an appendage to the manor of Sutton Valence, in which state it continued down to John de Hastings, earl of Pembroke, lord of that manor, who died possessed of it in the 49th year of king Edward II. as appears by the escheat rolls of that year. Soon after which it must have passed into the possession of the priory of Leeds; for in the 2d year of the next reign of king Richard II. that king granted his licence to the above-mentioned priory, to appropriate this church; and it was confirmed to the priory by patents of the 18th and 20th years of king Henry VI. when at the request of the prior and cannons there, the parish church of East Sutton, likewise of their patronage, was united to this church, to which it has been ever since esteemed as a chapel.
On the dissolution of the priory of Leeds in the reign of king Henry VIII. this parsonage, with the advowson of the vicarage, and the chapel of East Sutton annexed, came into the hands of the crown, where it did not continue long, for the king settled it in his 32d year on his new-erected dean and chapter of Rochester, part of whose inheritance it still remains.
The parsonage, with the manor annexed to it, has been for many years held in lease from the dean and chapter, by the family of Payne. Edward Payne, esq. of London, who has been already mentioned before, died in 1794, possessed of the lease of it, and his heirs are now entitled to it.
The advowson of the vicarage is reserved by the dean and chapter in their own hands.
¶On the abolition of deans and chapters, after the death of king Charles the 1st, this parsonage was surveyed by order of the state in 1649, when it was returned, that the parsonage of Sutton Valence, with the rights of it, and the manor or parsonage-house, three barns, a stable, and several other necessary outhouses, with a yard, garden and orchard, containing by estimation two roods, together with the tithes, were altogether worth sixty pounds per annum. All which were let by the late dean and chapter, anno 16 Charles I. to Thomas Shipton, gent. for twenty-one years, at the yearly rent of fourteen pounds, and one quarter of wheat, two quarters of oats, and one good brawn every Christmas; which rent was valued at 18l. 16s. and that the premises were worth upon improvement over and above the said rent 56l. 2s. per annum.
The vicarage of Sutton Valence is endowed with all tithes whatsoever, except corn and hay. It is valued in the king's books at 7l. 9s. 7d. and the yearly tenths at 14s. 11½d.
In 1640 it was valued at seventy-three pounds. Communicants, 226.
The vicar of Sutton Valence serves the cure of the church of East Sutton, as a chapel annexed to it; and as such is entitled to the vicarial tithes of that parish in right of his vicarage, he being presented and inducted to the vicarage of Sutton Valence, with the chapel of East Sutton annexed.