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Queanbeyan Age (NSW : 1867 - 1904) | Thu 23 May 1872 | Page 2
Local and District News.
CEREMONY OF LAYING THE FOUNDATION STONE OF ST. STEPHEN'S CHURCH QUEANBEYAN.
LAST Thursday the first practical effort, towards church building on the part of the Presbyterians of Queanbeyan was made and attended with great success. We refer to the interesting ceremony of laying the foundation stone of the church intended for the accommodation of Presbyterian worshippers. The hour fixed for the ceremony was noon of that day, but it was nearly one o'clock before everything was in readiness. The weather previously had been very unpropitious, and up to midnight of Wednesday it threatened anything but a pleasant day. Notwithstanding, Thursday proved all that could be desired for the season of the year; the day was bright. The site was rendered very attractive by a profusion of bunting flaunting over the suspended stone, which hung in readiness for its final disposition by the lady who was to be entrusted with the resposibility and honour of declaring the same well and truly laid. Near at hand was a spacious pavilion occupied by a long table and seats —the former crowded with substantial viands intended for the refreshment of those who would attend the ceremony.
All things being in readiness, the Rev. John Gibson, of Yass, moderator of the presbytery of Goulburn, commenced the proceedings by giving out the Old Hundreth Psalm, which was sung by those present—about a hundred persons.
The Rev. James Paterson, M.A., of Braidwood, read an appropriate psalm, and offered prayer.
Mr. John Gale then came forward and said, as honorary secretary to the building committee he had been requested to make a financial statement, read certain communications, and offer a few preliminary remarks. It was to him a matter of surprise that the Presbyterians of Queanbeyan were so late in undertaking the building of a church for their better accommodation when assembled for the purpose of worshipping the God of their fathers after the manner, which to them seems right and proper. They had long worshipped under disadvantages, and though for some time past they had enjoyed the comparative convenience of the Court-house, yet they felt it was not exactly the place—that they might and ought to assemble in a place of their own set apart exclusively to the use of public worship. Although they were now, for the first time, met to witness the laying of the foundation stone of their long projected church, it reflected unfavourably upon them as a body that they had not done this long ago. Something like ten years ago, he recollected they got the promise of about £400 for the purpose of building a church, but for want of proper combination and energy nothing was done for a long lapse of time—so long, that subscribers became morally and legally relieved from the obligations of their promises. A little while ago they renewed their exertions, with very good results. A building committee was appointed, and that committee felt themselves justified in commencing operations without delay, which they did by calling for and accepting tenders for the work. The sum already promised was about £400, of which at least £350 was good; and it was thought it was with such a list quite safe to undertake the erection of a church whose estimated cost would be from £500 to £550. Their esteemed. fellow-townsman, the Rev. A. D. Soares, had generously furnished them with a plan and specifications of the work, and thus all things were in readiness. Acting under the instructions of the committee he (Mr Gale) had sent circulars far and wide, and on the whole the result had been very encouraging. If some whom they had invited were not present, in a few instances they had sent satisfactory apologies, and something encouraging to represent them. He would proceed to read letters from some to whom circulars had been sent. The first was from the Rev. A. D. Soares, who had been unexpectedly called away on professional business, but sent his first year's subscription and best wishes for the success of the undertaking. Then there followed a letter from their friend the Rev. S. F. Mackenzie, of Goulburn, whose late return after a long absence from home, had rendered it impossible to give his attendance, but whose letter closed with these kind words :—"I trust you may have a very successful gathering, and that the divine blessing may rest on your undertaking." He also read a letter from Mr Slatterie, of Gundaroo, stating his inability to attend, promising a further subscription, and wishing them "a pleasant day and a pledge of good things to come." These letters were as good as so many speeches, and obviated the necessity of many more words from him, beyond exhorting those present to contribute liberally and cheerfully to the fund by laying their contributions on the stone as soon as it should be declared well and truly laid. He was pleased to be able to announce that a lady whom they all knew and respected, the excellent wife of a most worthy man, had consented to lay the stone. There, in that cavity underneath the stone hanging under the triangle, the bottle which he held in his hand was to be laid. That homely looking bottle contained what in course of time antiquarians might regard with much interest and curiosity—viz., several coins of the realmu of different value, copies of the Queanbeyan Age of that day, of the Presbyterian, the Sydney Morning Herald, the Evening News, and of the following document:—
"The foundation stone of this St. Stephen's Presbyterian Church was laid on Thursday, the 16th day of May, A.D., 1872, by Elizabeth, wife of Charles McKeahnie Esq., of Booroomba, county of Cowley, district of Queanbeyan, an elder of the Presbyterian congregation of the said district.
"His Excellency Sir Alfred Stephen, Knight, Chief Justice of the Colony of New South Wales, administering the Government thereof.
"The Reverend Archibald Constable Geekie, D.D., Moderator of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church of New South Wales.
"The Reverend John Gibson, Moderator of the Presbytery of Goulburn.
"Minister of the Presbyterlan Church, Queanbeyan—vacant.
"Elder—Charles McKeahnie, Esq.
"Building Commlttee—Andrew Morton, Esq:, JP Chairman, R. W. McKellar, Esq., Treasurer. Mr. John Gale, Secretary. Messrs. J. J. Wright,. W. Graham, and E. McDonald.
"Trustees—Andrew Morton, Esq., J.P., Andrew Cunningham; Esq., J,P., Alexander Ryrie, Esq., J.P., J. J. Wright, Esq., J.P.
"Architect.—The Reverend A. D. Soares of Christ Church, Queanbeyan.
"Contractors.—Thomas Priest, for masonry; Thomas Jordan, for carpenter's work."
Nothing more remained for him to say than that the ceremony of laying the stone would now be proceeded with.
Rev. John Gibson then introduced Mrs McKeahnie, and having placed in her hand the bottle, that lady deposited it in the cavity prepared for its reception. The mortar having been spread, Mrs
McKeahnie smoothed it with a trowel, and the stone having been carefully lowered to its position, she struck it with a hammer, and in remarkably clear voice and pleasing manner said, "I declare this foundation stone of St. Stephen's Prebyterlaun church truly laid, and humbly dedicate the same in the name of the, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit Amen."
The Rev. J. Gibson came forward and said, that having been suffering for some days with neuralgic pains, and fearing that he would be unable to address them, otherwise to-day, he would read an address. The rev. gentleman then read as follows:—My dear Christian friends,—we are assembled now at the interesting ceremonial of laying the foundation stone of a Presbyterian Church on this spot. The time is brief since this scene of busy life was an extensive sweep of undulating land occupied by the blackfellow and kangaroo; but now we behold it, as if by magic, converted into a busy and Important town. The presence of humanity, with relations temporal and eternal, has imparted to the place secular worth and religious Interest. From a benovolent solicitude for the spiritual and social welfare of this important town and neighbourhood, the Presbyterians are about erecting a house for the Triune God. If it be asked, For what purpose are you going to erect this temple? we answer, The highest conceivable one—the sanctuary is for the Most High who condescends to dwell with men on the earth—to promote his glory, to serve his cause, and promote the kingdom of his dear Son. No personal or selfish interests are to be promoted by its erection, but it is to stand as a free will offering and memorial to the God of heaven. This will invest it with a beauty far transcending any architectural merits which it may possess. This will give it a glory which will cause it to outvie many a more towering structure. What purpose Is this building to serve? It is to promote the spiritual interests of the members of the community in which it is placed. It will stand on the side of order, virtue, and social progress. It will stand Identified with the rights of Cæsar, with the rule of the magistrate, and with the free obedience of the citizen. It will stand associated with the honour and integrity of the tradesman, with the love of the domestic circle, and with the peace and progress of the individual mind—with its future perfection, glory, and immortality. If the design of its erection be accomplished, it will be another well sunk in the arid plains of man's existence. Here the pure waters of salvation are intended to flow. Here the ignorant are to be instructed, the wanderer brought in, the backslider invited back, the far off prodigal called home. This is to stand as a sister lighthouse, to intimate to the voyager to eternity that there are shoals, rocks, and breakers ahead, and to guide to the port of eternal life and glory. May the preachers and people here ever keep near the desired chart and infallible compass, and harmoniously voyage on to the eternal ocean of love and joy! Dear friends, unless this object be effected—that is, subserve the interests of vital godliness in the district, our labour will be in vain. Let our prayer be, "God be merciful to us, and bless us. Save now we beseech thee, and send prosperity." We would not forget that other denominations are operating here to advance the same momentous and vital interests, and we would bid them God speed, and we trust they will heartily reciprocate our good wishes for their prosperity and usefulness. We have, as Presbyterians, our peculiarities, and we attach to them considerable importance—we hold them firmly, because conscientiously, and take them from the New Testament as our sufficient directory and model. We say in reference to human authority in the church—
"Let Cæsar's dues be ever paid,
To Cæsar and his throne,
But consciences and souls were made
To be the Lord's alone.
In the Christian ministry, we believe one alone is the Master, and all ministers brethren. Christ the head, and all his people "members one of another." But whilst we hold our scriptural polity with the greatest tenacity, we hold in common with other denominations, principles and truths infinitely more piecious, and we trust our piety will ever be strong enough to sustain the pratical pre-eminence of these, and the due subordination of the other. Looking at man in his fallen condition—debased, polluted, condemned, involved in a ruin from which there is no extrication without the redemption by Jesus Christ, and regeneration by the Holy Spirit, and holding tenaciously the proper divinity of the incarnate Redeemer, and to the consequent ineffable dignity and moral worth and power of his atoning death, and discarding with all vehemence the sacramental virtue of ordinances as the medium of the Spirit's regenerative action—a notion untenable in scripture, and philosopically absurd—for the sound old doctrine of the instrumentality of divine truth, which, permeated by the evangelical element, (our preaching and teaching take their inspiration from the cross)—proclaims Jesus Christ and him crucified as the only basis of a sinner's hope, and insists upon the apostolic testimony—repentence towards God and faith in Jesus Christ. May these precious soul-quickening truths be ever preached in the new edifice, and of many here, and others growing up may it be said, These were born in her and may the Highest establish her. Amen.
Dr. Andrew Morton, J.P., followed. He said, as one of the oldest Presbyterlans of the district, it was expected of him that he should say a few words. The Presbyterians were not the most numerous religious body in the district, and moreover they were for the greater part poor. To accomplish the task they had begun, it was necessary they should continue to exert themselves. Already they were encouraged by the presence and assistance of other religious bodies. But still they must depend mainly on themselves. They must put their shoulders to the wheel again and again, not in brief spasmodic efforts, but by unremitting perseverance, and then they would soon have the pleasure of seeing their undertaking finished in a manner creditable to all who took part in the same. He congratulated them that they were resolved to lie no longer under the reproach of being the only religious denomination in the town who had not a church of their own. It was true that God was not confined to buildings made by hands. Their ancestors, the grand old Covenanters, worshipped the Most High on the hill sides of their native land, owing to a persecuting government. But now the necessity for this no longer existed. Those who formerly persecuted were now found amongst the number who were assisting them in their noble work. While they were proud of the time when God was confessed under circumstances of persecution, he could not help thinking that these were better days, when all denominationse are found working side by side and mutually assisting each other in one grand object they had in view.
(Cheers,)
At the close of Dr. Morton's address contributions amounting to £22 10s were laid upon the stone, and upon the sum being announced, and the doxology sung, the company present adjourned to the pavilion to lunch.
THE LUNCHEON,
which was an ample spread, was provided by the generous oontributions. of town and country friends, and consisted of all the seasonable, dishes, with a liberal supply of wines. About one hundred sat down to the refreshments provided, but so abundant were the supplies, that not one-half of the provisions were consumed.
At the close of the meal, the Rev. J. Gibson called for three cheers for the Queen, which were loyally given, and the company dispersed for a short time.
THE TEA MEETING.
The remainder of the afternoon was spent by several active ladies and gentlemen in preparing for tea at the oddfellows' hall. At about seven, p.m., the hall was filled, and on the arrival of the clergymen, grace was sung, and tea served. The ladles presiding at, and who had provided the tables, were—Mrs Graham, Mrs Mackellar, and Mrs Gale: They were assisted in their pleasant but arduous task of serving by several other ladles. A very pleasant hour was spent over tea, and then the company adjourned to the open air, while the tables were being removed and preparations completed for
THE PUBLIC MEETING.
The chair was occupied by Dr. Morton, who called upon the Rev. J. Gibson to give out a hymn and offer prayer, after which
The Chairman, acknowledging the honour conferred upon him in calling him to preside over the meeting, and regretting that he was not better quailfied to fill the chair, said he felt gratified to find that after long years of delay, and procrastination, the Presbyterians of Queanbeyan at length had the prospect before them of seeing a church of their own erected. It was well known that as a religious community they were poor—few were poorer than they, but he felt confident that what had occurred that day was an earnest that they were able to remove the stigma which had too long rested upon them —that they were the only religious denomination in the town who were not in a position to possess a church of their own. There were no difficulties before them but such as they might overcome, especially when, as they saw today, members of other religious persuasions were so ready to come forward to their assistance. There was a time when the various religious bodies were antagonistic to each other; there was a time when the Presbyterians were the objects of persecution by those who were now so ready to encourage and support them. It was a hopeful sign of the times that they were all able and disposed to throw aside minor differences to carry on the great work of spreading the gospel. He trusted they would never more witness those painful dissentions and strifes which had so characterised the past. It was not needful for him to say more as there were present those who would do full justice to the occasion which had brought them together. Having congratulated, the Presbyterians of the district on witnessing the laying of the foundation stone of St. Stephen's Church, and expressed a hope that at no very distant day they would assemble to witness its opening, the Chairman concluded by calling upon the secretary for a statement and a few remarks.
Mr Gale rose and said, in obedience to the request of the chairman he would, for the information of those who were not present at the laying of the foundation stone, repeat in substance what he stated on that occasion. He then gave a brief statement of the means at the disposal of the building committee, the probable estimate of their undertaking, and the amount still necessary to be raised in order to liquidate the debt which the committee would incur. After a few words of congratulation on the success which had so far attended their efforts, and giving expression to his belief that their exertions would not be relaxed until they had brought their undertaking to a succeesful issue, he concluded by urging upon Presbyterians the duty of renewed consecration of themselves to the service of God and more unity of purpose and effort amongst themselves.
The Rev. J. Gibson, the next speaker, said he was glad, seeing what great preparations bad been made, that he had made an effort to be present, and regretted that others whom they, had expected were not there also. Since they last met he noticed there had been a divorce and a marriage, but fortunately no breach of promise case. Their late pastor was in one sense married to them, but he had chosen nevertheless to go and settle elsewhere. This was the divorce. The marriage he referred to—that of the Rev. S F. Mackenzie—doubtless had something to do with that gentleman's absence from the interesting ceremonies of the day. He was pleased to notice that notwithstanding the Presbyterians of Queanbeyan were deprived of their minister they had the pluck to commence the erection of a church. He had not seen the plan, but presumed the design would be chaste and appropriate. He emphatically denounced the miserable spirit which was content with erecting a mean building for the worship of the Most High. Their style of church architecture ought to be improved; they ought to launch out more—
Larger boats may venture more, While smaller boats keep close to shore.
He hoped the Queanbeyan church of St Stephen's would be a beautiful one, and that the press, the pulpit, and the ladies would use their best energies to secure that laudable object. He complimented Mrs McKeahnie on the graceful and efficient manner in which she had discharged her honourable duty that day, and well and truly laid the foundation stone. Such ceremonies were not new to him, and he professed to know something about them. Referring to his being present, during his last visit to England, when the Prince of Wales laid a foundation-stone, he said he was glad that Almighty God In his good providence had raised up his Royal Highness from the gates of death (loud cheers), and he hoped he was spared to become a better man. He referred also to his church-building experience in the West Indies, and related some interesting incidents connected therewith; and said he was proud to observe that morning so much money laid on the stone instead of being buried underneath it. If Queanbeyan could not finish unaided the noble work they had undertaken, he hoped they would send a deputation to Yass where he knew they would find help; and a noble church he hoped they would have. The Presbyterlans of Yass had lately improved their own church in a way that they had no reason to be ashamed of it, for he thought It would now compare favourably with any other church in Yass. He admitted there were many degenerate sons of the noble old Covenanters who had turned away from them and were giving the cold shoulder to the cause; but he exhorted all present nevertheless to cleave to the church of their fathers, and they would be sure to prosper in the work they had undertaken. Referring to the past, he blushed to think that the Presbyterians of Queanbeyan, had had over them men who were not fit to be ministers—of course their late pastor formed a honourable exceptian; but, though he did not approve of the Rev. W. Mackenzie leaving them he trusted God would overrule all for good, and send them a man after His own heart. He added —" Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do do it with thy might." Let it not be said "these men began to build and were not able to finish." Of this, he said, there was little fear while they had their McKeahnies and Mortons to stand by them; and his concluding words were, "Establish Thou the work of our hands upon us: yea, the work of, our hands establish Thou it."
Mr. W. G. O'Neill was then called upon, and rising expressed the pleasure it afforded him to coöperate with the Presbyterians in furthering the interests of their church. Some 14 or 15 years ago, when the late Rev. Mr Ross was conducting a meeting in the old court house over the river, an effort was put forth to build a Presbyterian Church, but through all these past years nothing had actually been done until to-day; and now they had got the steam up he trusted they would go ahead at the rate of 30 or 40 knots an hour. One gentleman had spoken of having beautiful churches. The realisation of this object lay with the ladies. If one-half of what they spent in personal adournment were appropriated to church-building there would be no difficulty in the way. Again, there were plenty of rich men who had the means, if they only had the will, to render miaterial assistance,and all should give according to their means, in which case they would have a church which would be a credit to. the Presbyterian body, and all would be able to say they had a few bricks in the structure. They were bound by the claims of Christian brotherhood to help one another, in accordance with the spirit of the well-known hymn beginning—
"Help us to help each other, Lord."
The Presbyterians of Queanbeyan were not very strong and they needed help, but as they had been liberally disposed towards others he knew that others would help them now, He hoped they would get on from this out. If he could solicit subscriptions for the new church he would be happy to do so, and thus return their favours. He concluded by wishing all success to the undertaking they had commenced that day.
The Rev. Charles Jones was next asked to address the meeting. He was glad to see such a number present, but felt disappointed In having to, speak before the senior ministers had addressed the meeting. He was glad to be associated with gatherings of the members of the church of the Redeemer. Such occasions called to mind the God on high who helps them in their undertakings for his glory, and was their Father and Friend, whom they had promised to obey, and whose laws they had taken as their guide through life. Their great desire was success in all sections of the church. If they had that day been successful in laying the foundation stone, what was to prevent their success in raising the superstructure of their chureh, and in paying their minister's stipend, and this would be matter for thankfulness. It was pleasant to see one of their fair ones come forth, as had been done that day, and lay the foundation stone of their new chiurch, and it was pleasant to see the various signs of prosperity which surrounded them, But it was possible to witness all this, and yet fall short of true success. Success of the best kind must be looked for in other things. It lay in the salvation of men, and not in the erection of a building or in attention to secular affairs. Their grand work lay in achieving the wonders of redeeming grace in the salvation of perishing men. Jesus's words to his disciples were " Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men." The great work of the present day was to raise the fallen and spread scriptural holiness throughout the world, and thus anticipate the joys of everlasting life. In his humble opinion, when a church ceased to be a soul-saving church it mistook its mission ; if it was not successful in bringing souls to God, it was not successful at all. To be successful required nothing more than to follow the Lord Jesus, and be true to their principles and the truths of God. It was dillicult at all times to be faithful to God, but he instanced the case of Ahab and Elijah to show that courage and fidelity were necessary in reproving superiors. Something more than spasmodic effort was necessary to accomplish their object—their's was a life-plan work. And it would not do to break down their precepts by ill example. The present standard of Christian morals was lower than it ought to be—was enough to make them ashamed, and it was no wonder they were not more successful. The duty of the Christian church was to let its light shine, and if every Christian did but observe his duty in this respect there would be more conversions to God. He reminded them of the command given to the disciples to tarry at Jerusalem until endued with power from on high, and argued that in like manner all Christians were to look for the baptism of the Spirit in order to be enabled to adorn the gospel of God. He concluded by exhorting his hearers to trust in the promises of God and look forward to the time when Ethiopia shall stretch out her hands unto God and heaven and earth should be filled with one song— Hallelujah! for the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth! He wished them every success, not only in their church building, but in winning souls, for thus should they shine as the brightness df the firmament and as the stars for ever and ever.
The Rev. James Paterson said, when their honorary secretary invited him to the laying of, the foundation stone of their new church, he did not tell him of the tea meeting which was to follow, or, like another reverend brother, he might have found an excuse for his absence; but having promised he was determined not to back out. After some remarks on the weather, and the bright day and pleasant ceremony they had enjoyed, he observed that he was disappointed at seeing so few present at the ceremony. Such an event did not occur every day, and more ought to have been present, though perhaps money considerations kept some away. Having passed censure, he would now bestow praise upon those who had so well furnished the tables both at luncheon and and tea. He felt very happy, and wished to thank those of other denominations for their promises of help, and to remind Presbyterians that they could not expect, others to labour for them unless they did their best for themselves. They should remember the old proverb—" God helps those who help them selves." He accorded all praise to the McKeahnies, and Mortons, and Grahams of their number, but it was necessary that all should put their shoulder to the wheel. He gave them an illustration from natural history of the power of combination. There was a variety of monkey, which when wishing to cross a river selected an overhanging tree and ascending it linked head and tail and thus formed a chain until it became long enough to reach by a process of oscillation a tree on the opposite bank of the river, which was grasped by the monkey at the extremity of the chain, and thusa bridge was formed over which they all passed in safety. It was wonderful what could be done by combined action. He urged them not to have a large debt upon their church; nothing could be more to their discredit or discouragement, and it was well known that people would not go into a debt-laden church for fear of being taxed for its liquidation, and moreover ministers were loth to accept a call in such cases. He exhorted them to cleave to each other and live on the best of terms with other denominations of Christians. He shoped that ere long they would have a minister sent amongst them, and he hoped they would encourage him by attending regularly on the ordinances. Referring to their own ecclesiastical system, he said be should like to see in it more pliancy. There were excellences in the Wesleyan and Church of England systems which they might copy with advantage. He referred to the employment of lay preachers, and of sending out catechists or candidates for the ministry to occupy stations for which they had no ordained ministers, and under the supervision of ministers of neighbouring districts, and to go up annually to pass an examination until they were fitted for ordination. Thus they could supplement the work of the college, and from Wollongong to Eden, and elsewhere, fields of labour existed which an agency of this sort could fill. He concluded by expreesiong a hope that the Presbyterians of Queanbeyan would date a new era from that day for great spiritual prosperity, and that amongst them many sons and daughters might be born to the Lord.
Mr R. W. Mackellar rose to propose a vote of thanks, and not to make a speech, for the subjects under consideration were exhausted. He moved that the thanks of the meeting be accorded to the ladies and others who had so liberally provided for their, wants that day.
Mr C. McKeahnie seconded the motion, which was carried by acclamation.
Mr Gale moved, and Mr O'Neill seconded, a vote of thanks to the chairman and clerical visitors, and this also being carried by acclamation, and duly acknowledged, the benediction was pronounced, and the meeting broke up.
We understand total proceeds for the day including remittances from absentees, amounted to over £85.
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Queanbeyan Age (NSW : 1867 - 1904) | Wed 11 Mar 1874 | Page 2
LOCAL INTELLIGENCE.
ST. STEPHEN'S CHURCH, QUEANBEYAN.
THE OPENING SERVICES
OF this, the first place of Presbyterian worship built in Queanbeyan, were conducted on Sunday last under very encouraging and auspicious circumstances.
The building was commenced about two years ago, the foundation being completed and the chief corner stone laid by Mrs Charles McKeahie, with the usual ceremonies, on the 16th May, 1872. Owing to oversight in not binding the various contractors to time the works have been carried on but tardily, and even now the church is in a very incomplete state, as stated in our last issue.
A description of the building may not be out of place here, before we notice more particularly the services of Sabbath last. The design is gothic, and the material of the walls is rubble stone, neatly jointed, the copings of the buttresses, the parapets, string courses, &c., being of Portland cement. The building. comprises the body of the church, which furnishes accomodation for about 150 hearers, a neat porch, and a "session room," or vestry, at the rear. A bell-turret, surmounted by a spire-which is covered with zinc, and from its paltry appearance is the only defect noticeable in the building to ordinary spectators—springs from the right angle of the front gable of the building. The corbels from which the arches of the doors and windows spring are chastely wrought flowers and human heads of Grecian features. There are ten narrow windows in the main building, two smaller ones in the porch, and one in the vestry. These, as well as a large quatre-foil window in the gable behind the pulpit, are to be of stained glass, and although the order for them was given some time ago they had not arrived in time for the opening.
Exteriorly the church is, with the, defect already mentioned, a very handsome structure, and reflects great credit on the architect who designed it and when the grounds around it are properly laid out, and the gates and ornamental fence erected, the Presbyterian Church of St. Stephen's will be one of the handsomest public buildings in Queanbeyan ; and facing, as it does, the public recreation reserve, will always have the advantage of being a conspicuous object in, the foreground.
The interior of the church is beautiful, and in thorough keeping with the exterior. Ascending three broad steps the porch is gained, and thence, passing through folding doors, the church is entered. The first object which strikes the attention of the observer is a very handsome rostrum, rising from a low platform, and surmounted by a bookboard. This is lighted by two chaste lamps. We may mention that this necessary piece of church furniture is the workmanship, as well as the gift, of Mr John Kealman, who has the contracts for the seats—a portion of which only are as yet completed—and the gates and palisading fence enclosing the allotment. Two elaborate four-burner lamps, of the same pattern as those on the pulpit or desk mentioned above, depend from the ceiling and light the body of the church. The lamps were selected by Mr J. J. Wright on his recent visit to Sydney. The inner roof or ceiling is somewhat peculiar, and in our opinion the interior would have had a better effect to the eye if the ordinary open roof had been substituted for the present arrangement. Though, perhaps, for acoustic purposes the plan adopted is preferable. The ceiling springs from the wallplates erect for a foot or eighteen inches, and then by two or three slight angles, or "covings" rises archlike to the centre. It is lined with tongued-and-grooved pine, coloured and varnished in harmony with the oak graining of the doors and window frames.
Mr Thos. Priest was the contractor for the masonry Mr T. Jordon, for the carpenters' work; Mr J. Evitts, for the plastering ; Mr F. A. Helmund, for the painters' work; and Mr John Kealman, for the interior fittings, the windows, and the gates and fencing. The belfry is fitted with a bell, the gift of Mr Holdsworth, of Sydney.
The cost of the building is not exactly estimated ; but will probably exceed £500.
Although the seats for the Church were not completed in readiness for the opening services, through the courtesy of the Rev. C. Jones, who lent the spare seats of the Wesleyan Church, and Colonel Russell, P.M., who gave permission for the use of the Court-house forms ; ample accomodation, it was believed, had been provided for those who would attend the services of Sabbath last. Indeed, considering that the seats used were not made for the building, they were capable of very convenient arrangement and provided nearly as much sitting accommodation as the church can afford. But, nevertheless, long before the hour of morning service it was evident that the church would be crowded. And by eleven o'clock, all the available sitting and standing room, including the porch its-self, was occupied—the congregation crowding to the very feet of the minister, and a large number, who had been unable to gain admittance, were obliged to go away. There could not have been less than two hundred persons crowded into the church and porch during the morning service, many of whom had come from the country—some as far as twenty-five or thirty miles distant.
The Rev. R. Steel, M.A., Ph. D., of St. Stephen's Church, Sydney, conducted the opening services. The morning service began by singing the Old Hundredth Psalm, and a dedicatory prayer, appropriate chapters from the Bible, and other devotional exercises, the reverend docter announced his text from the Book of Genesis, 28th chap. v. 22—" And this stone, which I have set for a pillar, shall be God's house." The preacher introduced his subject by reminding his hearers of the object which had brought them together that day—to dedicate that building to the worship of Almighty God.
"The sound of the church-going bell,"
had that morning called to mind a multitude of reminiscences—Bible scenes—associations of their youth, and of other lands. He dwelt upon these in a descriptive manner, which arrested the breathless attention of the congregation, and awoke the tenderest emotions of their hearts. Churches were places of prayer, praise, and instruction. He expatiated on these points of discourse at large, showing the duty and advantages of public worship, and concluded an eloquent and powerful sermon, which occupied about an hour in delivery, by expressing his earnest wish that the place wherein they were assembled might become the birthplace of many souls.
The Sacrament of Baptism was then administered to two infants, and the service was brought to a close by prayer, singing, and the Apostolic Benediction.
The collection at morning service amounted to £7 14s 8d.
The evening service was begun at 7 o'clock ; and many who were disappointed of a seat in the morning, were there betimes in order to secure accommodation. As in the morning the church was crowded, the porch also, and many persons stood around the building wherever they could hear the sermon. The evening text was Ephesians v. 1.—"Be ye therefore followers of God, as dear children." The discourse founded upon these words was very fine. The love which God bears for mankind was dwelt upon and illustrated in a variety of ways which could not have failed to carry conviction to the hearts of those who heard the preacher's fervent words ; and the manner in which God's children are to imitate Him in His communicable attribites was ably set forth.
The collection at the close of the evening service amounted to £2 19s 8d.
Church of All Saints, Alverdiscott Devon
The village is listed in the 1086 Domesday Book as one of 79 Devonshire holdings of Robert, County of Mortain with a tenant Erchenbald later described as Flandrensis, le Fleming.
Beforre the Conquest it was held by a Saxon named Ordwulf,
The Fleming family continued to hold most of their manors
Alverdiscott eventually descended to Amy, a granddaughter of Christopher Fleming 1457 and her husband John Bellew of Ash Braunton.
The church, an ancient building rebuilt in the 15c, consists of a chancel, aisled nave, three stage west tower & south porch
The south aisle built in 1570 for Richard Beller, under a fine wagon roof has a Baroque wall monument to Gilbert Hody who died in 1705. it retains a late 13c pointed-arched doorway to the vestry.
The north aisle added in 1579 has an old barrel roof with carved bosses and flowers on the wallplates
All restored 1863 when Perpendicular style windows were inserted in the chancel and south wall of the nave. Also - square-headed windows flanking the Norman style arched south door in the porch. The Chancel was refurnished with Decorated-style tracery to the reredos, flanked by Commandment boards set in crocketed and cinquefoiled canopies; it has a wagon roof with blue-painted panels and gilt detailing; A new roof was also placed over the 3 bay nave.
The chancel arch has moulded inner order set on corbels of angels holding shields.
The 15c tower which has medieval inlaid floor tiles, retains its 15c west window over a new 1863 door.
The porch also has medieval inlaid floor tiles and late 16c arch-braced roof with bosses carved on a collar purlin.
The late 12c font carved with stars and fleur de lys still survives on a 1863 base
Behind the organ given by a man & his wife to celebrate their happy marriage, on a tomb chest, lies the life size figure of young Thomas Welshe only son of James Walshe "counsellor of law" who bought the manor from the Bellow family In early 17c , Thomas died in 1639 aged 10. Finely carved, he holds a prayer book. www.flickr.com/gp/52219527@N00/Rmk28UQ1V2
The internet church guide says "Alverdiscott is now a chapel of ease for the parish of Newton Tracey and there are currently no regular services in the church building but "we are exploring possible uses for the building and are committed to it remaining a place of worship and prayer".
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manor_of_Alverdiscott
Picture with thanks - copyright Roger Cornfoot CCL www.geograph.org.uk/photo/6504625
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
---------------------------------------------------
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004
Overview
Heritage Category: Listed Building
Grade: II
List Entry Number: 1097075
Date first listed: 23-Aug-1955
Location
Statutory Address: Church of St Mary the Virgin, Ideford, Newton Abbot TQ13 0BB
Statutory Address:
CHURCH OF ST MARY, CHURCH ROAD
The building or site itself may lie within the boundary of more than one authority.
County: Devon
District: Teignbridge (District Authority)
Parish: Ideford
National Grid Reference: SX 89421 77404
Details
Parish church. C12 re-sited tympanum, late C15/early C16 west tower and arcade, the rest of the church thoroughly rebuilt in 1850 by Wightwick and Damont except for the chancel which was added in 1883 by Dampier of Colchester (DRO). Local stone rubble, the chancel snecked brecchia and sandstone; tower dressings granite, C19 dressings Bathstone; slate roofs with crested ridge tiles to the chancel. West tower, nave, chancel, 3-bay north arcade (originally 2-bay and presumably 1-bay to the medieval chancel), lean-to vestry on north side of chancel, south west porch. Apart from the tympanum there is no evidence of fabric earlier than the late C15/early C16. The tower details suggest an early C16 date, the design of the arcade is a probably a late Perpendicular regional type (q.v. Dunchideock and Exminster). The roof of the north aisle is puzzling, could it be post Reformation? In 1846 the nave was of 2 bays only, there was a road screen (ceilure survives) and fragments of stained glass (Davidson). Wightwick and Damont were known as anti High church architects and the incumbent of 1852 "a staunch Protestant". This explains the unecclesiological character of the 1850 restoration in a diocese noted for ecclesiological restoration. The walls of nave and aisle were reconstructed with new windows and a south porch was added. There is also evidence that a west gallery was added or rebuilt. In 1883 a completely new chancel was added by Dampier in a more correct style, the old chancel and north chancel chapel being absorbed into the nave. The ceilure was left in its original position and is now half way down the nave. Early C20 chancel fittings and some late C20 re-arrangement. The 1883 chancel has angle buttresses, a coped east gable and 3-light Perpendicular style east window with a hoodmould and moulded architrave. The south side has 2 buttresses, 1 2-light decorated style window to the east and a 2-light Perpendicular style window to the west with a square head. Built into the wall above this is a circa C12 granite tympanum with a bird and scroll-tailed dragon on either side of a conventional foliage motif. On the north side of the chancel a vestry and organ chamber with a lean-to roof with a chamfered arched doorway in the east wall and 2 large C19 lancets on the north wall, one on each side of a buttress. The nave has a steeply-gabled 1850 porch in the westernmost bay with buttresses, a coped gable and a chamfered arched outer doorway repaired in artificial stone. Ovolo-moulded arched inner doorway of 1850 with a co-eval plank door with large ornamental strap hinges. 2 2-light Tudor arched nave windows of 1850 with tracey and a straight joint in the masonry between them. The north aisle has 3 similar windows of 1850 and a co-eval 2- light square-headed west window with cusped lights. Late C15/early C16 unbuttressed battered west tower with battlementing, heavily-crocketted corner pinnacles with finials and an internal south west stair turret. The west face has a plain chamfered moulded granite doorway with an 1886 oak door with an outer order of carving "the work of a dwarf at Teignmouth named Austin" (Creswell). A 3-light square-headed west window has uncusped lights. The west, south and north faces have 1-light rounded openings at bellringer's stage and all 4 faces have 2-light uncusped belfry windows. Slit stair windows on the south east corner, single gargoyles below the battlementing on the north and south sides. The north side has a blocked opening to the ground floor stage which was probably a doorway to a former west gallery. Interior Apart from the nave and aisle roofs and the 3-bay arcade the interior is C19 with some early C20 fittings. Plastered walls ; double-chamfered 1883 chancel arch on responds with engaged shafts and moulded capitals ; plain tall tower arch. 3bay arcade with double-chamfered rounded arches on octagonal columns with chamfered capitals (q.v. Dunchideock and Exminster). The nave roof is a ceiled waggon with moulded ribs and flat carved bosses, the ceilure (in the middle bay) is very complete with panels decorated with diagonal filligree carving and applied stars. The aisle roof is unusual: flat with deeply chamfered cross beams, wallplates and a central rib with carved bosses; it could be C17. 3-bay 1883 arched brace chancel roof, boarded behind, the principal rafters carried on wooden posts on moulded stone corbels. Surviving features of 1883 include an aumbry on the north wall, altar rails and C19 tiling. Carved choir stalls of 1904, altar table of 1983. Open traceried pulpit on stone base, the tracery said to have originated from the rood screen. Font with an octagonal bowl with quatrefoils on an arcaded octagonal stem described by Pevsner as "Perp" but possibly recut in 1897 (date on font cover). Unadorned nave benches of 1850; reredos of 1924 re-sited at the west end of the aisle carved with the 4 fathers of the Latin church, the Annunciation and the Nativity; several old ledger stones used as nave paving. The tower arch has 2 moulded C19 corbels which probably supported the C19 west gallery; late Perpendicular Tudor arched doorway to tower stair. Good east window glass, presumably erected in 1883; several armorial windows including late medieval glass restored in the C19; tower window and west window of aisle by Drake of Exeter. The medieval ceilure is a particularly important feature of the church.
© Historic England 2020
Elk Horn, Iowa
6 miles off Interstate 80
Specializing in Danish Food and Pastries. Open 7 days a week.
Logeland Studio
87820
CAPA-018696
Bathroom reno from May 11 (demolition day ) to July 31, 2023.
Goodbye, '90s. Everything except the hardwood flooring and oak baseboards was removed from this half-bathroom on May 11. A toilet, oak wall-hung cabinet, oak vanity with arborite top, three mirrors, sink and faucet were discarded. Only the light fixture, switches, outlet and wallplates are staying.
Yesterday, the painter returned for an hour to repair the smudges and nicks in the walls, which happened while the countertop and tile were being installed. Today, the mirror was hung and the protective paper removed from the floor. On Monday, the light fixture will be re-installed, bringing an end to this project.
Vanity and mirror frame are by Redl, painted in "Dove Wing" by Benjamin Moore. Chrome rectangle-base free-standing towel and toilet paper holders by Gatco. Switches and wallplates by Legrand. Glossy ceramic tile by American Olean, in "Dependable". BM Aura Bath & Spa wall paint in "Collingwood", matte finish.
Shows much better larger; press L.
To see before and after photos of the reno work in sequence, click on my "FOLLOW THE POWDER ROOM RENO" album.
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
---------------------------------------------------
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004
Overview
Heritage Category: Listed Building
Grade: I
List Entry Number: 1308610
Date first listed: 22-Feb-1967
Location
Statutory Address: St Michael the Archangel Church,Chagford, Newton Abbot TQ13 8BN
County: Devon
District: West Devon (District Authority)
Parish: Chagford
National Park: DARTMOOR
National Grid Reference: SX 70146 87508
Details
Parish church. It appears to be a complete C15 rebuild of an earlier church (The Church Wardens Accounts record work on the Lady Chapel in 1482); major renovation of circa 1888 followed by a series of lesser works between 1888 and 1925, e.g. vestry by J.W. Rowell and Son of Newton Abbot in 1891 and tower restored in 1915; roofs repaired circa 1960. Coursed blocks of granite ashlar throughout; granite ashlar detail, one window of limestone ashlar; slate roofs. Plan: church is actually set on a north-east - south-west axis but for convenience it is described as if it had a conventional east-west axis. Nave and chancel under a continuous roof with full length north and south aisles, both with east end chapels. The south aisle has the former Lady Chapel (now a Chapel of Remembrance to the dead of the World Wars) and the 1891 vestry at the east end. At the east end of the north aisle St Katherines Chapel was converted to the organ chamber and the aisle was extended an extra bay. C15 south porch. Large C15 west tower. Perpendicular style throughout and renovation work carried out in the same style. Exterior. Tall west tower of 3 stages with internal stair turret in the south-west corner. It has a chamfered plinth, setback buttresses and an embattled parapet without corner pinnacles. Belfry has double lancets on each side to the belfry and a single lancet on the north side to the ringing loft. On the west side the doorway has a 2-centred arch with double chamfered surround. It contains a good quality oak door carved with blind cusped arcades and carved with a Latin quotation and dated 1914. Directly above 3-light window with a pointed arch and containing simple intersecting tracery and a hoodmould. Possibly this window was reused in the C15 from the earlier church. Above this window 2 small arch-headed niche contains a C20 carved figure of St. Michael and above that a painted clockface put there in 1867. There are tiny slit windows on the south side lighting the newel stair. The nave and aisles are similar in style. Their roofs are gable-ended with C19 shaped kneelers, coping and moulded finials. (The west end of the north aisle has no finial). The roof is continuous over nave and chancel but the division is marked by an old ridge tile surmounted by a crude beast (maybe a pig). The aisles have soffit-chamfered eaves cornices and the south aisle has a chamfered plinth. Both have set back buttresses on their corners and buttresses between the windows, all with weathered offsets. The west ends of the aisles are blind although both contain blocked features. The south aisle is roughcast but inside a tall 2-centred arch shows. The north aisle contains a blocked doorway, a 2-centred arch with a double roll moulded surround and above that is a presumably C19 segmental-headed window embrasure. All the original windows have original Perpendicular tracery with plain hoodmoulds. The south aisle and porch. The porch projects left of centre. It has set back buttresses and an embattled parapet. 2-centred outer arch with moulded surround and broach stops. This contains early C20 timber gates containing a row of open quatrefoils containing rosettes along the top. There is a late C17 or C18 slate sundial with a brass pointer. It has shaped corners and the borders are enriched with scrolled foliage and garlands. The porch occupies one of the 5 bays this side. The others contain 3-light windows, and there is another at the east end. In the angle of the south aisle and chancel is the low 1981 vestry built of neater ashlar than the original church. It has a flat roof and embattled parapet over a soffit- moulded dripcourse. Each side contains a square-headed 2-light window with cinquefoil heads and the south side contains a segmental-headed doorway with ovolo surround. Above the vestry, a window built of limestone, with Decorated tracery and hoodmould with carved labels. The east end of the chancel has a large and impressive 5-light window with Perpendicular tracery. It has moulded reveals with carved capitals and hoodmould. The north aisle is 6 bays. The east end bay is a late C19 addition and contains another limestone 2-light window with Decorated tracery, hoodmould and block labels. Contemporary granite Tudor arch doorway in east end. The rest are original 3-light windows similar to those on the south side. The division between aisle and organ chamber (former chapel) is marked by a projecting rood stair turret. Interior. Porch has a good interior. It has stone-flagged floor and benches along each side. Stone vaulted 2-bay roof; the ribs springing from half-engaged piers and with good carved bosses. The piers are granite and although the rest is painted the detail suggests a softer stone, possibly Beerstone. The south doorway is a granite 2- centred arch with double chamfered surround and pyrmaid stops. It contains an ancient folding plank door with studded coverstrips, its original ferramenta and a massive oak lock housing. The roof was repaired circa 1960 but is essentially original. Nave and chancel have continuous wagon roofs with moulded purlins and ribs, good carved oak bosses and a moulded wallplate enriched with 4-leaf bosses. The break between nave and chancel is now marked by the chancel only being ceiled and the timberwork there is painted. Both aisles have similar smaller wagon roofs and must be contemporary with the nave and chancel roof. Both are now open and the south chapel timbers have traces of ancient colour. The bosses are noteworthy some featuring the spiral symbol of the Gorges family and others the tinners mark of 3 rabbits. Church Fabric. Tall tower arch with a narrow chamfered surround and soffit- Chamfered imposts. Inside tower small 2-centred arch doorway to newel stairs but floor to ringing loft replaced 1915. Either side of the tower arch are the blocked apertures described above. Each aisle has an identical 5-bay arcade with 1 overlapping into the chancel. The arches have double chamfered arch rings. Octagonal granite piers made from single pieces of granite and have soffit-chamfered caps and chamfered bases, now on pedestals since the floor has been lowered. The floor is of stone slabs and includes some grave slabs in the chancel (see below). The walls are of exposed granite ashlar. In the south aisle, close to the chancel screen, there is an arch-headed blocked opening for the rood stair. Furniture and fittings. In the chancel the reredos dates from 1888 along with the rest of the sanctuary decoration. It is a painted and gilded triptych; Christ in majesty is flanked by panels containing the Evangelists and the wings contain saints. The wall behind is lined with good polychrome tiles of 1888. The oak stalls (dating from 1913) are in a Tudor Gothic style with blind arcading across the front and carved angel finials. The sedilia dates from 1894. The chancel screen is a fine piece of work. It was erected in 1925 in memory of the young flying officer Noel Hayter-Hames. It is an expert recreation of a C15 Perpendicular oak chancel screen with blind tracery on the wainscotting, Perpendicular tracery to the windows, Gothic cusped coving and a frieze of delicately undercut bands of foliage. The parclose screens are painted and it may be that they are actually C15; built of oak and simpler versions of the main screen. The pulpit (dated 1928) is also built of oak and in the same Perpendicular style; it has an octagonal drum nodding ogee arch on the sides and undercut foliage on the corners, base and frieze. In the former St. Katherines Chapel the late C19 organ has been restored to its original painted scheme. The former Lady Chapel was lined with panelled wainscotting when converted to a Chapel of Rememberance circa 1925. The contemporary figures on the Riddel posts are the patron saints of England, Wales, Scotland and Ireland. Brass lecturn is dated 1871. The benches are also Gothic in style; the bench ends have tracery patterns framed with wreathed foliage. They probably date from the reseating of 1864 and most have been dedicated to members of the congregation who died in the C20. Granite Perpendicular style octagonal font carved by a local mason, John Aggett, and dedicated to the memory of Katherine Hayter-Hames who died less than a year old in 1856. The oak coved canopy is richly carved in Gothic style. Memorials. The oldest and best in the church is the table tomb in the sanctuary in memory of Sir John Wyddon (d. 1575). It is remarkable for its early Renaissance decoration. The tomb base is 3 bays divided by pilasters which are carved with foliage and with a frieze of wreathed foilage. Each bay carved with foliage and with a frieze of wreathed foliage. Each bay contains a frame of formal foliage. Central bay contains an heraldic achievement and the flanking bays have Renaissance vases with cherubs and grotesques. Marble lid with black letter inscription around the edge. Any effigy is now missing. 2-bay arcade above with round arches enriched by scrolled cusping and supported on baluster columns. The arches and spandrels are richly carved with Renaissance ornament. Moulded frieze above and moulded entablature with carved crestwork is supported by carved scroll consoles. The back of the arcade is also richly carved with heraldic achievements surrounded by a dense pattern of expertly carved ornament featuring mermen, grotesques and foliage. Nearby, on the sanctuary steps is a graveslab in memory of Mary Whiddon who died on her wedding day in 1641. South aisle contains a good mural monument in memory of Sir John Prouz (d.1664). Built most of Beerstone, it contains an inscribed rectangular marble plaque flanked by free-standing marble columns with Corinthian caps and entablature with modillion frieze surmounted by a cartouche containing the Prouz arms flanked by other heraldic cartouches. The soffit-moulded sill is supported by scroll brackets carved as grotesque lions heads and with an apron between enriched with strapwork and containing a carved oak heraldic achievement. Above the monument is suspended a helmet bearing the Prouz crest. All the paintwork is C20. To south of the sanctuary a granite recess with double ogee arch in memory of Constance Hayter-Hames (d.1890) and several C19 mural monuments to other members of the same family but the best monument from this period is a mural plaque in memory of Captain John Evans who died aged 23, in 1861 after an active service life. The plaque is a white marble scroll with a symbol of liberty at the top. It is carved as if the scroll is pinned to the end of a chest tomb on which lies his sword and an open Bible and over this is his regimental arms. The black ground has a pointed arch and a moulded limestone frame. It is signed Bedford Sc. 256 Oxford Street, London. Over the south door a board is painted with the arms of Charles II (much restored). To right a painted Benefaction board dated 1791 over an inscribed Beerstone tablet recording the benefactions of the Reverend John Hayter and John Hooper in 1790. Glass. The window of the north chapel contains fragments of C15 glass; St. Andrew and some heraldic achievements. The rest of the stained glass is C19 and most are memorials to members of the Hayter-Hames family. Summary. This is a good C15 granite church although the interior is largely the result of the several late C19 and early C20 renovations. The best feature is the remarkable Whiddon table tomb. Sources. Devon C19 Church Project. Church Guide. (n.a.)
© Historic England 2021
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
---------------------------------------------------
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004
Part of the Ceramixed Plates; remixed vintage porcelain by Tulip Art Projects. The Berlin-based art collective has been working on these porcelain mash-ups since 2003.
In this project, old decorated plates are collected, over painted, and fired once more to create stunning original art pieces.
The themes on the hand-painted plates range from early portraits of night life figures (like the Maertini Broess) to recent ones on politics, pornography and religion.
Situation view from the "Disco Sucks Again" exhibition in "Kloetze und Schinken" Gallery, situated in Berlin Neukoelln.
Opposing interpretations of male honor, and males as sex objects, were the theme of the show. The exhibition portrays males in the submissive and "dehumanizing" but fun poses usually reserved for females. The often hilariously trashy aesthetics of pornography inspired much of the work of this art show.
The "Piss-Hierarchy" wallpaper in the background was produced by BerlinTapete for Tulip.
1 Eastgate Street
Bury St Edmunds
Suffolk
1 Eastgate Street
Bury St Edmunds
Suffolk
The building is Grade II* Listed
GV II*
Public house, formerly a merchant's house. C15. Timber-framed and rendered; plaintiled roofs. EXTERIOR: 2 storeys and cellars; half-H form with 2 jettied cross-wings; on a corner site. On the north the jetty is at a higher level than on the south and has the joist ends covered by a fascia board; the wing on the south is jettied on 2 sides with the joist ends exposed, but the corner-post has been removed. 12-pane sash windows in flush cased frames, irregularly spaced, 4 to the 1st storey and 6 to the ground storey, on the east front; 2 similar upper windows and one ground storey window and door on the Mustow Street frontage, which has C19 crow-stepped gabling at the west end. INTERIOR: former 2-bay open hall with a fine crown-post roof. Open truss with a heavily cambered tie-beam supported by arched braces meeting at the centre. Crown-post moulded at cap and base, braced 4 ways at the head. Roof with original smoke-blackened rafters is now within a later shallow pitched roof set at a higher level. Rear wall and wallplate cut away to allow for a C19 rear extension. The upper north end wall of the hall has close studding and tension bracing. On the ground storey, an embattled dais beam with brackets for a former canopy. The inserted hall ceiling has double ogee mouldings to the main cross-beams and to joists, all with run-off stops. The 2-bay cross-wing on the south has a boxed-in main cross-beam on the ground storey supported by a cast-iron pillar; one trimmer has a wide chamfer and triangle stops. On the upper storey the principal room has exposed studding and the tie-beam of the open truss has supporting arched braces. A crown-post within the roof space has a plain square shaft, braced 2 ways at the head. Rafters original with some later strutting. The cross-wing at the north end, where the jetty is at a higher level, had all or part of the ground storey as an open entrance or carriage-way originally. The present ground storey ceiling is an insertion of the early C17, with ovolo-moulding and scroll stops to the cross-beams. On the upper storey, the arched braced tie-beam of the open truss is exposed with the moulded base of a crown-post. The centre of the building has had 2 phases of alteration. A drawing made prior to the removal of the East Gate in 1760 shows The Fox with a lower central section and 2 dormer windows. The roof was raised to its present level in the early C19 in conjunction with the insertion of sash windows.
historicengland.org.uk/listing/the-list/list-entry/107522...
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
---------------------------------------------------
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
---------------------------------------------------
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
---------------------------------------------------
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
---------------------------------------------------
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
---------------------------------------------------
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
---------------------------------------------------
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
---------------------------------------------------
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004
THE FOX INN, 1, EASTGATE STREET, BURY ST EDMUNDS
Heritage Category: Listed Building
Grade: II*
List Entry Number: 1075223
National Grid Reference: TL 85782 64402
DETAILS
BURY ST EDMUNDS
TL8564SE EASTGATE STREET 639-1/8/325 (North side) 07/08/52 No.1 The Fox Inn
GV II*
Public house, formerly a merchant's house. C15. Timber-framed and rendered; plaintiled roofs.
EXTERIOR: 2 storeys and cellars; half-H form with 2 jettied cross-wings; on a corner site. On the north the jetty is at a higher level than on the south and has the joist ends covered by a fascia board; the wing on the south is jettied on 2 sides with the joist ends exposed, but the corner-post has been removed. 12-pane sash windows in flush cased frames, irregularly spaced, 4 to the 1st storey and 6 to the ground storey, on the east front; 2 similar upper windows and one ground storey window and door on the Mustow Street frontage, which has C19 crow-stepped gabling at the west end.
INTERIOR: former 2-bay open hall with a fine crown-post roof. Open truss with a heavily cambered tie-beam supported by arched braces meeting at the centre. Crown-post moulded at cap and base, braced 4 ways at the head. Roof with original smoke-blackened rafters is now within a later shallow pitched roof set at a higher level. Rear wall and wallplate cut away to allow for a C19 rear extension. The upper north end wall of the hall has close studding and tension bracing. On the ground storey, an embattled dais beam with brackets for a former canopy. The inserted hall ceiling has double ogee mouldings to the main cross-beams and to joists, all with run-off stops. The 2-bay cross-wing on the south has a boxed-in main cross-beam on the ground storey supported by a cast-iron pillar; one trimmer has a wide chamfer and triangle stops. On the upper storey the principal room has exposed studding and the tie-beam of the open truss has supporting arched braces. A crown-post within the roof space has a plain square shaft, braced 2 ways at the head. Rafters original with some later strutting. The cross-wing at the north end, where the jetty is at a higher level, had all or part of the ground storey as an open entrance or carriage-way originally. The present ground storey ceiling is an insertion of the early C17, with ovolo-moulding and scroll stops to the cross-beams. On the upper storey, the arched braced tie-beam of the open truss is exposed with the moulded base of a crown-post. The centre of the building has had 2 phases of alteration. A drawing made prior to the removal of the East Gate in 1760 shows The Fox with a lower central section and 2 dormer windows. The roof was raised to its present level in the early C19 in conjunction with the insertion of sash windows.
Listing NGR: TL8578264402
historicengland.org.uk/listing/the-list/list-entry/107522...
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
---------------------------------------------------
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
---------------------------------------------------
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004
Bathroom reno from May 11 (demolition day ) to July 31, 2023.
Goodbye, '90s. Everything except the hardwood flooring and oak baseboards was removed from this half-bathroom on May 11. The toilet, oak wall-hung cabinet, six-sided oak vanity w/2 drawers and arborite top, 3 mirrors, sink and faucet were discarded. Apart from the hardwood floorboards, only the light fixture, wallplates, outlet and switches are staying.
Yesterday, the painter returned for an hour to repair the smudges and nicks in the walls, which happened while the countertop and tile were being installed. Today, the mirror was hung and the protective paper removed from the floor. On Monday, the original light fixture will be re-installed, bringing an end to this project.
Vanity and mirror frame are by Redl, painted in "Dove Wing" by Benjamin Moore. Chrome rectangle-base free-standing towel and toilet paper holders by Gatco. Top-flush toilet is "Florence" by Neptune. Glossy ceramic tile by American Olean, in "Dependable". BM Aura Bath & Spa wall paint in "Collingwood", with a matte finish.
Shows better larger; press L.
To see before and after photos of the reno work in sequence, click on my "FOLLOW THE POWDER ROOM RENO" album.
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
---------------------------------------------------
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004
St Peter and St Paul, Salle, Norfolk
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
The greatest East Anglian churches were built in the 15th century. It is often observed that there can never have been enough people to fill them, but this is to miss the point. They were never intended for the forms of worship to which they now play host.
The shape of a late medieval church is not an accident. East Anglian parish churches of the 15th century had many common features; wide aisles to enable liturgical processions, a chancel for the celebration of Mass, places for other altars, niches for devotional statues, a focus towards the Blessed Sacrament in the east, a large nave for social activities, large windows to fill the building with light, a roof of angels to proclaim a hymn of praise, a pulpit for the preaching of orthodox doctrine, benches to enable the people to hear the preaching, and carvings, stained glass and wall paintings of the sacraments, Gospels and rosary mysteries, of the catechism and teaching of the Catholic Church.
As Le Corbusier might have said if he'd been around at the time, a late medieval East Anglian church was a machine for making Catholicism happen.
No longer, of course. The radical and violent fracture in popular religion in the middle years of the 16th century gave birth to the Church of England, and the new Church inherited buildings that were often unsuitable for congregational protestant liturgy - a problem that the Church of England has never satisfactorily solved.
Over the centuries, the problem has been addressed in different ways; celebrating Communion at a table in the nave, for example, and blocking off the chancel for other uses. Although this was challenged by the Laudian party in the early part of the 17th century, it was the way that many parishes reinvented their buildings, and most were to stay like that until the middle years of the 19th century. Some went further: a pulpit placed halfway down the nave, or even at the back of the church, meant that the seating could be arranged so that it no longer focused towards the east, thus breaking the link with Catholic (and Laudian) sacramentalism. For several centuries, Anglican churches focused on the pulpit rather than the altar.
With the rise of the 19th century Oxford Movement, all this underwent another dramatic change, with the great majority of our medieval parish churches having their interiors restored to their medieval integrity, reinventing themselves as sacramental spaces. This Victorian conception of the medieval suited itself to congregational worship, and responded in a satisfactory way to the structure of the building. But still, of course, they weren't full.
This 19th century re-imagining is the condition in which we find most of them today, and Anglican theologians everywhere are asking the question that the Catholic Church asked itself at Vatican II in the 1960s - is a 19th century liturgical space really appropriate for the Church of the 21st century?
It requires a shift in the mind to recall that these were not originally Anglican buildings, but it is a shift we need to make. The idea of a previously unchanging Church now confronting the demands of the modern age is wholly incorrect. These buildings have faced a variety of challenges over the centuries; they have only ever been truly suitable for the use for which they were originally built six hundred years ago.
Two of the largest late medieval churches in East Anglia are just three miles apart, at Cawston and Salle in the middle of Norfolk. These clusters are not uncommon; think of Blythburgh, Southwold and Walberswick in Suffolk, for example, or Lavenham and Long Melford in the same county. But Cawston and Salle are really close - you can see the tower of one from the other. St Peter and St Paul is a complete example of a 15th century rebuilding; St Agnes at Cawston retains its elegant earlier chancel.
If not merely for congregational worship, why were these churches built so big? Impressive as they seem now, they must have been awesome at the time they were built, since they were the only substantial buildings outside of the towns, and would have dwarfed the houses of the parish. Some were in villages; but many were not. Salle church has always been out in the fields. Why are earlier East Anglian churches not so massive? Certainly, East Anglia has its cathedrals; Norwich and Ely pre-date the great churches by several centuries, and Bury Abbey was bigger than either before its destruction. The great majority of East Anglia's churches are piecemeal affairs; typically, a 13th century chancel, which must have been the most substantial part of the building when it was first erected, an early 14th century nave and tower, and perhaps later elaborations of the piece with aisles and a clerestory. Salle and Cawston churches are both rebuildings of earlier structures, but a surprising number of East Anglian churches were not rebuilt, until perhaps the Victorians saw the need for a new chancel, or new aisles. Often, these smaller churches are exquisitely beautiful, as if beauty rather than grandeur was the imperative.
And then, towards the end of the 1340s, a great pestilence swept across Europe; in East Anglia, outside of Norwich which got off lightly, it killed perhaps a half of the population. In emptying the countryside, it completely altered the economic balance; a shortage of labour gave new power to the survivors, perhaps setting in place the preconditions for the capitalism that we can recognise by the 16th century. And, in extinguishing the flower of Decorated architecture, it also gave birth to the great love affair between the late medieval mind and death.
In Catholic theology there is no great divide between the dead and the living. For the medieval Christian, communion was something that existed between all members of the parish, whether alive or dead. Thus, prayers were said for the souls of the dead (who, it was presumed, were saying prayers for the souls of the living).
To ensure that prayers were said for them after their death, the very richest people endowed chantries. These were foundations, by which priests could be employed to say masses for their souls in perpetuity. A priest in such a capacity was called a chantry priest. The masses would be said at a chantry altar, probably in the nave; if the person was rich enough, this might be enclosed in a specially constructed chantry chapel. Many churches had them. After the Reformation, many were pressed into service as family mausoleums or pews.
For the poorest people, there was the opportunity to join a guild, where, for a penny or so a week, they could ensure that the guild chantry priest would say masses for their soul after their death (along with those of the other dead members of the guild). Many of these guilds were organised around particular occupations or devotions, and became a focus of social activity. The investment that produced the income to pay the chantry priests was most commonly in land. The church or guild oversaw the management of the land, which is one of the reasons we have an image of a wealthy pre-Reformation church. Land bought to produce income in this way was known as chantry land, a name surviving in many places today. Those who invested in chantries (and few and far between must have been those who didn't) presumed that they were ensuring prayers and masses in perpetuity; but, of course, this was not to be.
Bequests and chantries seem to have reached their peak in the 15th century. Perhaps the Black Death reinforced the urgency of the task. People did not merely want to be remembered; they wanted to be prayed for. And so, those who could afford it ensured that this was not forgotten by leaving their wealth in the very place that was at the centre of communion: the parish church. The richest paid for the additions of aisles and chapels, or for a new font or rood screen. This was not just a naked desire for the recognition of their family status. There was an underlying insecurity to the new landed classes. They wanted to control their destiny beyond their deaths. And so, their gift would be recorded in the form of a dedicatory inscription. One of these survives on the screen at Cawston, and another on the base of the font at Salle. Orate pro anima, they begin, "Pray for the soul of...", an injunction urgently emphasised by the pre-Reformation liturgy, only to be cursed and defaced by the later Anglicans and puritans. Stained glass was another common gift, as well as images, candlesticks, furnishings. Thus were many churches developed piecemeal.
But sometimes, where a parish could rely on a steady supply of substantial bequests, they might be channelled into a complete rebuilding, as at Salle, a summa cum laude apothesosis, where the new church of the late 15th century survives in pretty much its original form. Sometimes, a single wealthy family would shape and direct the rebuilding of a church. One of the richest families in East Anglia in the 14th and 15th centuries was the de la Poles, the Earls of Suffolk. Their mark can be found throughout East Anglia, but most famously and substantially at Wingfield in Suffolk, and at Cawston in Norfolk. Theirs was a long term project; at Cawston, the tower predates the furnishings of the nave and chancel by almost a century.
So why so vast? Certainly, it was ad maiorem deo gloria, to the Greater Glory of God; but it was also to the greater glory of the de la Poles and their contemporaries. The great landed families of England came into the late middle ages full of confidence, and they were determined to demonstrate it. They had survived the Black Death. They had grown richer on its consequences. They had assumed a political power unthinkable a few centuries before. They controlled not just the wealth but the imagination of their parishes. They asserted orthodox Catholic dogma in the face of rural superstitions and abuses. They imposed a homogenised Catholicism on late medieval England. And, as they increased their secular power and influence, a time would come when they would embrace the Great Idea already beginning to take shape on the continent - protestantism. But that was still in the future.
And so, to Salle. St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower. The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets also as at Great Witchingham). The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the crowning glory of the building is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection, and the Ascension into Heaven.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a cock, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and Psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord!
The nave benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching. Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
---------------------------------------------------
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
---------------------------------------------------
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
---------------------------------------------------
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
---------------------------------------------------
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004
Overview
Heritage Category: Listed Building
Grade: II
List Entry Number: 1097075
Date first listed: 23-Aug-1955
Location
Statutory Address: Church of St Mary the Virgin, Ideford, Newton Abbot TQ13 0BB
Statutory Address:
CHURCH OF ST MARY, CHURCH ROAD
The building or site itself may lie within the boundary of more than one authority.
County: Devon
District: Teignbridge (District Authority)
Parish: Ideford
National Grid Reference: SX 89421 77404
Details
Parish church. C12 re-sited tympanum, late C15/early C16 west tower and arcade, the rest of the church thoroughly rebuilt in 1850 by Wightwick and Damont except for the chancel which was added in 1883 by Dampier of Colchester (DRO). Local stone rubble, the chancel snecked brecchia and sandstone; tower dressings granite, C19 dressings Bathstone; slate roofs with crested ridge tiles to the chancel. West tower, nave, chancel, 3-bay north arcade (originally 2-bay and presumably 1-bay to the medieval chancel), lean-to vestry on north side of chancel, south west porch. Apart from the tympanum there is no evidence of fabric earlier than the late C15/early C16. The tower details suggest an early C16 date, the design of the arcade is a probably a late Perpendicular regional type (q.v. Dunchideock and Exminster). The roof of the north aisle is puzzling, could it be post Reformation? In 1846 the nave was of 2 bays only, there was a road screen (ceilure survives) and fragments of stained glass (Davidson). Wightwick and Damont were known as anti High church architects and the incumbent of 1852 "a staunch Protestant". This explains the unecclesiological character of the 1850 restoration in a diocese noted for ecclesiological restoration. The walls of nave and aisle were reconstructed with new windows and a south porch was added. There is also evidence that a west gallery was added or rebuilt. In 1883 a completely new chancel was added by Dampier in a more correct style, the old chancel and north chancel chapel being absorbed into the nave. The ceilure was left in its original position and is now half way down the nave. Early C20 chancel fittings and some late C20 re-arrangement. The 1883 chancel has angle buttresses, a coped east gable and 3-light Perpendicular style east window with a hoodmould and moulded architrave. The south side has 2 buttresses, 1 2-light decorated style window to the east and a 2-light Perpendicular style window to the west with a square head. Built into the wall above this is a circa C12 granite tympanum with a bird and scroll-tailed dragon on either side of a conventional foliage motif. On the north side of the chancel a vestry and organ chamber with a lean-to roof with a chamfered arched doorway in the east wall and 2 large C19 lancets on the north wall, one on each side of a buttress. The nave has a steeply-gabled 1850 porch in the westernmost bay with buttresses, a coped gable and a chamfered arched outer doorway repaired in artificial stone. Ovolo-moulded arched inner doorway of 1850 with a co-eval plank door with large ornamental strap hinges. 2 2-light Tudor arched nave windows of 1850 with tracey and a straight joint in the masonry between them. The north aisle has 3 similar windows of 1850 and a co-eval 2- light square-headed west window with cusped lights. Late C15/early C16 unbuttressed battered west tower with battlementing, heavily-crocketted corner pinnacles with finials and an internal south west stair turret. The west face has a plain chamfered moulded granite doorway with an 1886 oak door with an outer order of carving "the work of a dwarf at Teignmouth named Austin" (Creswell). A 3-light square-headed west window has uncusped lights. The west, south and north faces have 1-light rounded openings at bellringer's stage and all 4 faces have 2-light uncusped belfry windows. Slit stair windows on the south east corner, single gargoyles below the battlementing on the north and south sides. The north side has a blocked opening to the ground floor stage which was probably a doorway to a former west gallery. Interior Apart from the nave and aisle roofs and the 3-bay arcade the interior is C19 with some early C20 fittings. Plastered walls ; double-chamfered 1883 chancel arch on responds with engaged shafts and moulded capitals ; plain tall tower arch. 3bay arcade with double-chamfered rounded arches on octagonal columns with chamfered capitals (q.v. Dunchideock and Exminster). The nave roof is a ceiled waggon with moulded ribs and flat carved bosses, the ceilure (in the middle bay) is very complete with panels decorated with diagonal filligree carving and applied stars. The aisle roof is unusual: flat with deeply chamfered cross beams, wallplates and a central rib with carved bosses; it could be C17. 3-bay 1883 arched brace chancel roof, boarded behind, the principal rafters carried on wooden posts on moulded stone corbels. Surviving features of 1883 include an aumbry on the north wall, altar rails and C19 tiling. Carved choir stalls of 1904, altar table of 1983. Open traceried pulpit on stone base, the tracery said to have originated from the rood screen. Font with an octagonal bowl with quatrefoils on an arcaded octagonal stem described by Pevsner as "Perp" but possibly recut in 1897 (date on font cover). Unadorned nave benches of 1850; reredos of 1924 re-sited at the west end of the aisle carved with the 4 fathers of the Latin church, the Annunciation and the Nativity; several old ledger stones used as nave paving. The tower arch has 2 moulded C19 corbels which probably supported the C19 west gallery; late Perpendicular Tudor arched doorway to tower stair. Good east window glass, presumably erected in 1883; several armorial windows including late medieval glass restored in the C19; tower window and west window of aisle by Drake of Exeter. The medieval ceilure is a particularly important feature of the church.
© Historic England 2020
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
---------------------------------------------------
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
---------------------------------------------------
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
---------------------------------------------------
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
---------------------------------------------------
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
---------------------------------------------------
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
---------------------------------------------------
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
---------------------------------------------------
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
---------------------------------------------------
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
---------------------------------------------------
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
---------------------------------------------------
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004
St Peter and St Paul, Salle, Norfolk
During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
The greatest East Anglian churches were built in the 15th century. It is often observed that there can never have been enough people to fill them, but this is to miss the point. They were never intended for the forms of worship to which they now play host.
The shape of a late medieval church is not an accident. East Anglian parish churches of the 15th century had many common features; wide aisles to enable liturgical processions, a chancel for the celebration of Mass, places for other altars, niches for devotional statues, a focus towards the Blessed Sacrament in the east, a large nave for social activities, large windows to fill the building with light, a roof of angels to proclaim a hymn of praise, a pulpit for the preaching of orthodox doctrine, benches to enable the people to hear the preaching, and carvings, stained glass and wall paintings of the sacraments, Gospels and rosary mysteries, of the catechism and teaching of the Catholic Church.
As Le Corbusier might have said if he'd been around at the time, a late medieval East Anglian church was a machine for making Catholicism happen.
No longer, of course. The radical and violent fracture in popular religion in the middle years of the 16th century gave birth to the Church of England, and the new Church inherited buildings that were often unsuitable for congregational protestant liturgy - a problem that the Church of England has never satisfactorily solved.
Over the centuries, the problem has been addressed in different ways; celebrating Communion at a table in the nave, for example, and blocking off the chancel for other uses. Although this was challenged by the Laudian party in the early part of the 17th century, it was the way that many parishes reinvented their buildings, and most were to stay like that until the middle years of the 19th century. Some went further: a pulpit placed halfway down the nave, or even at the back of the church, meant that the seating could be arranged so that it no longer focused towards the east, thus breaking the link with Catholic (and Laudian) sacramentalism. For several centuries, Anglican churches focused on the pulpit rather than the altar.
With the rise of the 19th century Oxford Movement, all this underwent another dramatic change, with the great majority of our medieval parish churches having their interiors restored to their medieval integrity, reinventing themselves as sacramental spaces. This Victorian conception of the medieval suited itself to congregational worship, and responded in a satisfactory way to the structure of the building. But still, of course, they weren't full.
This 19th century re-imagining is the condition in which we find most of them today, and Anglican theologians everywhere are asking the question that the Catholic Church asked itself at Vatican II in the 1960s - is a 19th century liturgical space really appropriate for the Church of the 21st century?
It requires a shift in the mind to recall that these were not originally Anglican buildings, but it is a shift we need to make. The idea of a previously unchanging Church now confronting the demands of the modern age is wholly incorrect. These buildings have faced a variety of challenges over the centuries; they have only ever been truly suitable for the use for which they were originally built six hundred years ago.
Two of the largest late medieval churches in East Anglia are just three miles apart, at Cawston and Salle in the middle of Norfolk. These clusters are not uncommon; think of Blythburgh, Southwold and Walberswick in Suffolk, for example, or Lavenham and Long Melford in the same county. But Cawston and Salle are really close - you can see the tower of one from the other. St Peter and St Paul is a complete example of a 15th century rebuilding; St Agnes at Cawston retains its elegant earlier chancel.
If not merely for congregational worship, why were these churches built so big? Impressive as they seem now, they must have been awesome at the time they were built, since they were the only substantial buildings outside of the towns, and would have dwarfed the houses of the parish. Some were in villages; but many were not. Salle church has always been out in the fields. Why are earlier East Anglian churches not so massive? Certainly, East Anglia has its cathedrals; Norwich and Ely pre-date the great churches by several centuries, and Bury Abbey was bigger than either before its destruction. The great majority of East Anglia's churches are piecemeal affairs; typically, a 13th century chancel, which must have been the most substantial part of the building when it was first erected, an early 14th century nave and tower, and perhaps later elaborations of the piece with aisles and a clerestory. Salle and Cawston churches are both rebuildings of earlier structures, but a surprising number of East Anglian churches were not rebuilt, until perhaps the Victorians saw the need for a new chancel, or new aisles. Often, these smaller churches are exquisitely beautiful, as if beauty rather than grandeur was the imperative.
And then, towards the end of the 1340s, a great pestilence swept across Europe; in East Anglia, outside of Norwich which got off lightly, it killed perhaps a half of the population. In emptying the countryside, it completely altered the economic balance; a shortage of labour gave new power to the survivors, perhaps setting in place the preconditions for the capitalism that we can recognise by the 16th century. And, in extinguishing the flower of Decorated architecture, it also gave birth to the great love affair between the late medieval mind and death.
In Catholic theology there is no great divide between the dead and the living. For the medieval Christian, communion was something that existed between all members of the parish, whether alive or dead. Thus, prayers were said for the souls of the dead (who, it was presumed, were saying prayers for the souls of the living).
To ensure that prayers were said for them after their death, the very richest people endowed chantries. These were foundations, by which priests could be employed to say masses for their souls in perpetuity. A priest in such a capacity was called a chantry priest. The masses would be said at a chantry altar, probably in the nave; if the person was rich enough, this might be enclosed in a specially constructed chantry chapel. Many churches had them. After the Reformation, many were pressed into service as family mausoleums or pews.
For the poorest people, there was the opportunity to join a guild, where, for a penny or so a week, they could ensure that the guild chantry priest would say masses for their soul after their death (along with those of the other dead members of the guild). Many of these guilds were organised around particular occupations or devotions, and became a focus of social activity. The investment that produced the income to pay the chantry priests was most commonly in land. The church or guild oversaw the management of the land, which is one of the reasons we have an image of a wealthy pre-Reformation church. Land bought to produce income in this way was known as chantry land, a name surviving in many places today. Those who invested in chantries (and few and far between must have been those who didn't) presumed that they were ensuring prayers and masses in perpetuity; but, of course, this was not to be.
Bequests and chantries seem to have reached their peak in the 15th century. Perhaps the Black Death reinforced the urgency of the task. People did not merely want to be remembered; they wanted to be prayed for. And so, those who could afford it ensured that this was not forgotten by leaving their wealth in the very place that was at the centre of communion: the parish church. The richest paid for the additions of aisles and chapels, or for a new font or rood screen. This was not just a naked desire for the recognition of their family status. There was an underlying insecurity to the new landed classes. They wanted to control their destiny beyond their deaths. And so, their gift would be recorded in the form of a dedicatory inscription. One of these survives on the screen at Cawston, and another on the base of the font at Salle. Orate pro anima, they begin, "Pray for the soul of...", an injunction urgently emphasised by the pre-Reformation liturgy, only to be cursed and defaced by the later Anglicans and puritans. Stained glass was another common gift, as well as images, candlesticks, furnishings. Thus were many churches developed piecemeal.
But sometimes, where a parish could rely on a steady supply of substantial bequests, they might be channelled into a complete rebuilding, as at Salle, a summa cum laude apothesosis, where the new church of the late 15th century survives in pretty much its original form. Sometimes, a single wealthy family would shape and direct the rebuilding of a church. One of the richest families in East Anglia in the 14th and 15th centuries was the de la Poles, the Earls of Suffolk. Their mark can be found throughout East Anglia, but most famously and substantially at Wingfield in Suffolk, and at Cawston in Norfolk. Theirs was a long term project; at Cawston, the tower predates the furnishings of the nave and chancel by almost a century.
So why so vast? Certainly, it was ad maiorem deo gloria, to the Greater Glory of God; but it was also to the greater glory of the de la Poles and their contemporaries. The great landed families of England came into the late middle ages full of confidence, and they were determined to demonstrate it. They had survived the Black Death. They had grown richer on its consequences. They had assumed a political power unthinkable a few centuries before. They controlled not just the wealth but the imagination of their parishes. They asserted orthodox Catholic dogma in the face of rural superstitions and abuses. They imposed a homogenised Catholicism on late medieval England. And, as they increased their secular power and influence, a time would come when they would embrace the Great Idea already beginning to take shape on the continent - protestantism. But that was still in the future.
And so, to Salle. St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower. The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets also as at Great Witchingham). The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the crowning glory of the building is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection, and the Ascension into Heaven.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a cock, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and Psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord!
The nave benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching. Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Kitchen reno from Nov. 10 (demolition day) to Dec. 18 (completion date).
This image shows part of the flip-up door and side panel for the corner appliance garage and the dishwasher toekick, which were attached today. Other work was done today, but is not shown in this image.
Green tape = temporary handles to enable the doors to be opened.
Propped against the ledge is a glass tile by Ames. One row of this will be installed along the countertop.
Blanco stainless steel undermount sink, "Alta" spray faucet & "Torre" soap dispenser, Miele integrated dishwasher & Vicostone "Serra" quartz with a square wrap edge profile.
Monday: no one will be working onsite.
Tuesday: tile to be installed; plumber to connect sink, faucet, garburator & dishwasher, & remaining appliances to be delivered.
Wednesday: electrician to install new light switches & electrical outlets, and connect oven, cooktop, dishwasher & under-cabinet lites.
TBD: installation of door & drawer pulls.
See how the space looked before, during & after: www.flickr.com/photos/joan-marie/albums/72157648831744487
Kitchen is by Redl: MDF cabinets painted with Benjamin Moore's "Dove Wing".
Kitchen walls are painted "Collingwood"; window trim, "Cloud White".
Overview
Heritage Category: Listed Building
Grade: I
List Entry Number: 1308610
Date first listed: 22-Feb-1967
Location
Statutory Address: St Michael the Archangel Church,Chagford, Newton Abbot TQ13 8BN
County: Devon
District: West Devon (District Authority)
Parish: Chagford
National Park: DARTMOOR
National Grid Reference: SX 70146 87508
Details
Parish church. It appears to be a complete C15 rebuild of an earlier church (The Church Wardens Accounts record work on the Lady Chapel in 1482); major renovation of circa 1888 followed by a series of lesser works between 1888 and 1925, e.g. vestry by J.W. Rowell and Son of Newton Abbot in 1891 and tower restored in 1915; roofs repaired circa 1960. Coursed blocks of granite ashlar throughout; granite ashlar detail, one window of limestone ashlar; slate roofs. Plan: church is actually set on a north-east - south-west axis but for convenience it is described as if it had a conventional east-west axis. Nave and chancel under a continuous roof with full length north and south aisles, both with east end chapels. The south aisle has the former Lady Chapel (now a Chapel of Remembrance to the dead of the World Wars) and the 1891 vestry at the east end. At the east end of the north aisle St Katherines Chapel was converted to the organ chamber and the aisle was extended an extra bay. C15 south porch. Large C15 west tower. Perpendicular style throughout and renovation work carried out in the same style. Exterior. Tall west tower of 3 stages with internal stair turret in the south-west corner. It has a chamfered plinth, setback buttresses and an embattled parapet without corner pinnacles. Belfry has double lancets on each side to the belfry and a single lancet on the north side to the ringing loft. On the west side the doorway has a 2-centred arch with double chamfered surround. It contains a good quality oak door carved with blind cusped arcades and carved with a Latin quotation and dated 1914. Directly above 3-light window with a pointed arch and containing simple intersecting tracery and a hoodmould. Possibly this window was reused in the C15 from the earlier church. Above this window 2 small arch-headed niche contains a C20 carved figure of St. Michael and above that a painted clockface put there in 1867. There are tiny slit windows on the south side lighting the newel stair. The nave and aisles are similar in style. Their roofs are gable-ended with C19 shaped kneelers, coping and moulded finials. (The west end of the north aisle has no finial). The roof is continuous over nave and chancel but the division is marked by an old ridge tile surmounted by a crude beast (maybe a pig). The aisles have soffit-chamfered eaves cornices and the south aisle has a chamfered plinth. Both have set back buttresses on their corners and buttresses between the windows, all with weathered offsets. The west ends of the aisles are blind although both contain blocked features. The south aisle is roughcast but inside a tall 2-centred arch shows. The north aisle contains a blocked doorway, a 2-centred arch with a double roll moulded surround and above that is a presumably C19 segmental-headed window embrasure. All the original windows have original Perpendicular tracery with plain hoodmoulds. The south aisle and porch. The porch projects left of centre. It has set back buttresses and an embattled parapet. 2-centred outer arch with moulded surround and broach stops. This contains early C20 timber gates containing a row of open quatrefoils containing rosettes along the top. There is a late C17 or C18 slate sundial with a brass pointer. It has shaped corners and the borders are enriched with scrolled foliage and garlands. The porch occupies one of the 5 bays this side. The others contain 3-light windows, and there is another at the east end. In the angle of the south aisle and chancel is the low 1981 vestry built of neater ashlar than the original church. It has a flat roof and embattled parapet over a soffit- moulded dripcourse. Each side contains a square-headed 2-light window with cinquefoil heads and the south side contains a segmental-headed doorway with ovolo surround. Above the vestry, a window built of limestone, with Decorated tracery and hoodmould with carved labels. The east end of the chancel has a large and impressive 5-light window with Perpendicular tracery. It has moulded reveals with carved capitals and hoodmould. The north aisle is 6 bays. The east end bay is a late C19 addition and contains another limestone 2-light window with Decorated tracery, hoodmould and block labels. Contemporary granite Tudor arch doorway in east end. The rest are original 3-light windows similar to those on the south side. The division between aisle and organ chamber (former chapel) is marked by a projecting rood stair turret. Interior. Porch has a good interior. It has stone-flagged floor and benches along each side. Stone vaulted 2-bay roof; the ribs springing from half-engaged piers and with good carved bosses. The piers are granite and although the rest is painted the detail suggests a softer stone, possibly Beerstone. The south doorway is a granite 2- centred arch with double chamfered surround and pyrmaid stops. It contains an ancient folding plank door with studded coverstrips, its original ferramenta and a massive oak lock housing. The roof was repaired circa 1960 but is essentially original. Nave and chancel have continuous wagon roofs with moulded purlins and ribs, good carved oak bosses and a moulded wallplate enriched with 4-leaf bosses. The break between nave and chancel is now marked by the chancel only being ceiled and the timberwork there is painted. Both aisles have similar smaller wagon roofs and must be contemporary with the nave and chancel roof. Both are now open and the south chapel timbers have traces of ancient colour. The bosses are noteworthy some featuring the spiral symbol of the Gorges family and others the tinners mark of 3 rabbits. Church Fabric. Tall tower arch with a narrow chamfered surround and soffit- Chamfered imposts. Inside tower small 2-centred arch doorway to newel stairs but floor to ringing loft replaced 1915. Either side of the tower arch are the blocked apertures described above. Each aisle has an identical 5-bay arcade with 1 overlapping into the chancel. The arches have double chamfered arch rings. Octagonal granite piers made from single pieces of granite and have soffit-chamfered caps and chamfered bases, now on pedestals since the floor has been lowered. The floor is of stone slabs and includes some grave slabs in the chancel (see below). The walls are of exposed granite ashlar. In the south aisle, close to the chancel screen, there is an arch-headed blocked opening for the rood stair. Furniture and fittings. In the chancel the reredos dates from 1888 along with the rest of the sanctuary decoration. It is a painted and gilded triptych; Christ in majesty is flanked by panels containing the Evangelists and the wings contain saints. The wall behind is lined with good polychrome tiles of 1888. The oak stalls (dating from 1913) are in a Tudor Gothic style with blind arcading across the front and carved angel finials. The sedilia dates from 1894. The chancel screen is a fine piece of work. It was erected in 1925 in memory of the young flying officer Noel Hayter-Hames. It is an expert recreation of a C15 Perpendicular oak chancel screen with blind tracery on the wainscotting, Perpendicular tracery to the windows, Gothic cusped coving and a frieze of delicately undercut bands of foliage. The parclose screens are painted and it may be that they are actually C15; built of oak and simpler versions of the main screen. The pulpit (dated 1928) is also built of oak and in the same Perpendicular style; it has an octagonal drum nodding ogee arch on the sides and undercut foliage on the corners, base and frieze. In the former St. Katherines Chapel the late C19 organ has been restored to its original painted scheme. The former Lady Chapel was lined with panelled wainscotting when converted to a Chapel of Rememberance circa 1925. The contemporary figures on the Riddel posts are the patron saints of England, Wales, Scotland and Ireland. Brass lecturn is dated 1871. The benches are also Gothic in style; the bench ends have tracery patterns framed with wreathed foliage. They probably date from the reseating of 1864 and most have been dedicated to members of the congregation who died in the C20. Granite Perpendicular style octagonal font carved by a local mason, John Aggett, and dedicated to the memory of Katherine Hayter-Hames who died less than a year old in 1856. The oak coved canopy is richly carved in Gothic style. Memorials. The oldest and best in the church is the table tomb in the sanctuary in memory of Sir John Wyddon (d. 1575). It is remarkable for its early Renaissance decoration. The tomb base is 3 bays divided by pilasters which are carved with foliage and with a frieze of wreathed foilage. Each bay carved with foliage and with a frieze of wreathed foliage. Each bay contains a frame of formal foliage. Central bay contains an heraldic achievement and the flanking bays have Renaissance vases with cherubs and grotesques. Marble lid with black letter inscription around the edge. Any effigy is now missing. 2-bay arcade above with round arches enriched by scrolled cusping and supported on baluster columns. The arches and spandrels are richly carved with Renaissance ornament. Moulded frieze above and moulded entablature with carved crestwork is supported by carved scroll consoles. The back of the arcade is also richly carved with heraldic achievements surrounded by a dense pattern of expertly carved ornament featuring mermen, grotesques and foliage. Nearby, on the sanctuary steps is a graveslab in memory of Mary Whiddon who died on her wedding day in 1641. South aisle contains a good mural monument in memory of Sir John Prouz (d.1664). Built most of Beerstone, it contains an inscribed rectangular marble plaque flanked by free-standing marble columns with Corinthian caps and entablature with modillion frieze surmounted by a cartouche containing the Prouz arms flanked by other heraldic cartouches. The soffit-moulded sill is supported by scroll brackets carved as grotesque lions heads and with an apron between enriched with strapwork and containing a carved oak heraldic achievement. Above the monument is suspended a helmet bearing the Prouz crest. All the paintwork is C20. To south of the sanctuary a granite recess with double ogee arch in memory of Constance Hayter-Hames (d.1890) and several C19 mural monuments to other members of the same family but the best monument from this period is a mural plaque in memory of Captain John Evans who died aged 23, in 1861 after an active service life. The plaque is a white marble scroll with a symbol of liberty at the top. It is carved as if the scroll is pinned to the end of a chest tomb on which lies his sword and an open Bible and over this is his regimental arms. The black ground has a pointed arch and a moulded limestone frame. It is signed Bedford Sc. 256 Oxford Street, London. Over the south door a board is painted with the arms of Charles II (much restored). To right a painted Benefaction board dated 1791 over an inscribed Beerstone tablet recording the benefactions of the Reverend John Hayter and John Hooper in 1790. Glass. The window of the north chapel contains fragments of C15 glass; St. Andrew and some heraldic achievements. The rest of the stained glass is C19 and most are memorials to members of the Hayter-Hames family. Summary. This is a good C15 granite church although the interior is largely the result of the several late C19 and early C20 renovations. The best feature is the remarkable Whiddon table tomb. Sources. Devon C19 Church Project. Church Guide. (n.a.)
© Historic England 2021
CHURCH OF ST ANDREW
Overview:
Heritage Category: Listed Building:
Grade: II*
List Entry Number: 1097645
Date first listed: 23-Aug-1955
County: Devon
District: Teignbridge (District Authority)
Parish: Stokeinteignhead
National Grid Reference: SX 91561 70442
Details
Parish church. Late C14/15, chancel 1867 (Pevsner), major restoration of 1894 by Tait and Harvey. Rendered except for the red sandstone chancel, slate roofs. Plan: Nave, chancel, west tower, north and south transepts, 4-bay north and south aisles. South porch (no longer in use), north porch, north-east vestry. Perpendicular, with a substantial late C19 restoration. Decorated chancel of 1867. Exterior: Most of the windows are untraceried, presumably dating from the C18 or early C19 when the mullions but not the medieval tracery were replaced. C19 Decorated style chancel with diagonal buttresses, 3-light C19 decorated east window with carved label stops, two 2-light C19 Decorated windows on the south side, one on the north side which also has a C19 lean-to vestry with a moulded doorway in the east end and 3-light window to the north. North transept with a 3-light Perpendicular east window and a 3-light C19 Decorated north window, the south transept has an untraceried 3-light south window and similar east window, which appears to be a late C19 copy of other windows in the church. The south aisle with a diagonal south-west buttress, has a 3-light Perpendicular west window with some mullion and jamb replacement; three 4-light untraceried south windows. The former porch has a similar 3-light south window. The north aisle with a north west diagonal buttress has a 4-light medieval Perpendicular window to the east of the porch with decayed carved label stops, untraceried transomed window to the west of the porch with carved medieval label stops, similar 4-light west window with C19 hoodmould and label stops. Battlemented tower with diagonal buttresses and on unrendered embattled polygonal north-east stair turret. Moulded west doorway with a hoodmould and untraceried 4-light west window, large 2-light tracenied belfy openings on all 4 sides. North porch with inner moulded doorway with pyramid stops and a hoodmould; C19 boarded wagon roof with carved bosses. Interior: Unplastered walls except for the chancel; C19 timber chancel arch; double- chamfered tower arch; 4-bay north and south arcades with low red sandstone piers with corner shafts and carved capitals with broad foliage capital carving, the 3 westernmost capitals to the north arcade are different in design and possibly re-used with angel carvings divided by niches. The junction between the roof of the aisles and transepts is unusual (qv Combeinteignhead), the aisle wallplates oversail the transepts and are supported on corbels with upward curving braces. The arrangement here is probably late C19 but may be based on a medieval original. C19 boarded wagon with moulded ribs and bosses to the nave, aisles and transepts; similar open wagon to the chancel. Notable rood screen "one of the earliest surviving in Devon" (Pevsner) and dated C14 by Bond and Camm. The screen has square-headed 3-light openings with a band of heavily-cusped tracery above the centre, decorated with an ogee arch above the 2-leaf door. The oversailing rood-loft is uncoved, the rood loft stair rises from the north transept. Trefoil-headed piscina on south wall of chancel. The chancel fittings are mostly 1890s: timber reredos; mosaic and marble flooring; brass altar rail with ornamental copper spandrels, good choir stalls with carved ends and 2 canopied thrones with reading desks. Shallow arch into organ chamber, partly concealed by organ. The nave has a 1914 timber drum pulpit with traceried panels and co-eval octagonal font with carved traceried panels; 3-bay 1912 tower screen; timber eagle lectern probably also early C20. Plain late C19/early C20 benches. The remains of a holy water stoup on north wall, piscinas in east walls of both transeps. Monuments: Re- set in the sanctuary floor a brass to a priest, died 1375 (Pevsner), the earliest in Devon; several ledger stones used as paving. Unusual and very lengthy early C19 inscription tablet in chancel to the Graham family, signed Faulkner of Exeter "In memory of a family, nine of whom all suffered in their country's cause, by being either killed, drowned, wounded or dying, in service, including the father, 2 uncles, 4 brothers and 2 nephews". Other early C19 white marble wall plaques in the chancel. Black wall tablet in the south aisle to Jfet (letters unclear) Cock, died 1746. Stained Glass: 3 medieval fragments hanging in the south transept; single figures and details from a Beer design in the north transept; east window of north transept with memorial dates of 1871 and 1876 probably by Drake of Exeter; First World War memorial in east window, probably by Blanchford; south window in chancel signed Lavers Barraud and Westlake, dated 1874. Bond, F. Bligh and Camm. Dom Bede, Roodscreens and Roodlofts (1909), volume II, page 349. Pevsner, South Devon (1952). Devon Nineteenth Century Churches Project.
Overview
Heritage Category: Listed Building
Grade: II
List Entry Number: 1097075
Date first listed: 23-Aug-1955
Location
Statutory Address: Church of St Mary the Virgin, Ideford, Newton Abbot TQ13 0BB
Statutory Address:
CHURCH OF ST MARY, CHURCH ROAD
The building or site itself may lie within the boundary of more than one authority.
County: Devon
District: Teignbridge (District Authority)
Parish: Ideford
National Grid Reference: SX 89421 77404
Details
Parish church. C12 re-sited tympanum, late C15/early C16 west tower and arcade, the rest of the church thoroughly rebuilt in 1850 by Wightwick and Damont except for the chancel which was added in 1883 by Dampier of Colchester (DRO). Local stone rubble, the chancel snecked brecchia and sandstone; tower dressings granite, C19 dressings Bathstone; slate roofs with crested ridge tiles to the chancel. West tower, nave, chancel, 3-bay north arcade (originally 2-bay and presumably 1-bay to the medieval chancel), lean-to vestry on north side of chancel, south west porch. Apart from the tympanum there is no evidence of fabric earlier than the late C15/early C16. The tower details suggest an early C16 date, the design of the arcade is a probably a late Perpendicular regional type (q.v. Dunchideock and Exminster). The roof of the north aisle is puzzling, could it be post Reformation? In 1846 the nave was of 2 bays only, there was a road screen (ceilure survives) and fragments of stained glass (Davidson). Wightwick and Damont were known as anti High church architects and the incumbent of 1852 "a staunch Protestant". This explains the unecclesiological character of the 1850 restoration in a diocese noted for ecclesiological restoration. The walls of nave and aisle were reconstructed with new windows and a south porch was added. There is also evidence that a west gallery was added or rebuilt. In 1883 a completely new chancel was added by Dampier in a more correct style, the old chancel and north chancel chapel being absorbed into the nave. The ceilure was left in its original position and is now half way down the nave. Early C20 chancel fittings and some late C20 re-arrangement. The 1883 chancel has angle buttresses, a coped east gable and 3-light Perpendicular style east window with a hoodmould and moulded architrave. The south side has 2 buttresses, 1 2-light decorated style window to the east and a 2-light Perpendicular style window to the west with a square head. Built into the wall above this is a circa C12 granite tympanum with a bird and scroll-tailed dragon on either side of a conventional foliage motif. On the north side of the chancel a vestry and organ chamber with a lean-to roof with a chamfered arched doorway in the east wall and 2 large C19 lancets on the north wall, one on each side of a buttress. The nave has a steeply-gabled 1850 porch in the westernmost bay with buttresses, a coped gable and a chamfered arched outer doorway repaired in artificial stone. Ovolo-moulded arched inner doorway of 1850 with a co-eval plank door with large ornamental strap hinges. 2 2-light Tudor arched nave windows of 1850 with tracey and a straight joint in the masonry between them. The north aisle has 3 similar windows of 1850 and a co-eval 2- light square-headed west window with cusped lights. Late C15/early C16 unbuttressed battered west tower with battlementing, heavily-crocketted corner pinnacles with finials and an internal south west stair turret. The west face has a plain chamfered moulded granite doorway with an 1886 oak door with an outer order of carving "the work of a dwarf at Teignmouth named Austin" (Creswell). A 3-light square-headed west window has uncusped lights. The west, south and north faces have 1-light rounded openings at bellringer's stage and all 4 faces have 2-light uncusped belfry windows. Slit stair windows on the south east corner, single gargoyles below the battlementing on the north and south sides. The north side has a blocked opening to the ground floor stage which was probably a doorway to a former west gallery. Interior Apart from the nave and aisle roofs and the 3-bay arcade the interior is C19 with some early C20 fittings. Plastered walls ; double-chamfered 1883 chancel arch on responds with engaged shafts and moulded capitals ; plain tall tower arch. 3bay arcade with double-chamfered rounded arches on octagonal columns with chamfered capitals (q.v. Dunchideock and Exminster). The nave roof is a ceiled waggon with moulded ribs and flat carved bosses, the ceilure (in the middle bay) is very complete with panels decorated with diagonal filligree carving and applied stars. The aisle roof is unusual: flat with deeply chamfered cross beams, wallplates and a central rib with carved bosses; it could be C17. 3-bay 1883 arched brace chancel roof, boarded behind, the principal rafters carried on wooden posts on moulded stone corbels. Surviving features of 1883 include an aumbry on the north wall, altar rails and C19 tiling. Carved choir stalls of 1904, altar table of 1983. Open traceried pulpit on stone base, the tracery said to have originated from the rood screen. Font with an octagonal bowl with quatrefoils on an arcaded octagonal stem described by Pevsner as "Perp" but possibly recut in 1897 (date on font cover). Unadorned nave benches of 1850; reredos of 1924 re-sited at the west end of the aisle carved with the 4 fathers of the Latin church, the Annunciation and the Nativity; several old ledger stones used as nave paving. The tower arch has 2 moulded C19 corbels which probably supported the C19 west gallery; late Perpendicular Tudor arched doorway to tower stair. Good east window glass, presumably erected in 1883; several armorial windows including late medieval glass restored in the C19; tower window and west window of aisle by Drake of Exeter. The medieval ceilure is a particularly important feature of the church.
© Historic England 2020
St Andrew, Metton, Norfolk
Metton's is a church that I keep coming back to. It's handily placed for revisits, being set just south of Cromer, one of my regular starting points for bike rides. But there is something else too, something that seems to call me back to experience its quiet, dim stillness above the lonely road of the village.
I first came here with the late Tom Muckley in the summer of 2005, if you could call it a summer that year. Long, sultry days in June gave a promise of things to come, but the promise was never really fulfilled. July was not a particularly wet one, but neither was it very sunny. In East Anglia, we awoke again and again to gloomy cloud and a kind of ineffectual drizzle that eventually petered out, the clouds breaking. But the days never warmed up, and all too soon evening closed in. By early August, the hedgerows were still as green as they had been six weeks previously, and the conservation areas of graveyards had become jungles.
There was an illusion that the summer was still held in a fitful suspense. But already, the barley and wheat fields were being harvested, the lanes clogged by mud from combines and tractors, the signs all around of everything being safely gathered in. The evenings became cooler, the horse chestnuts began threatening to turn. Soon, it would be time for back to school promotions in the town shops, and the excitement of posters for harvest suppers on village noticeboards. Soon, it would be autumn.
But all that was in the future. In the first few days of August, the low cloud began to retreat, and there were high skeins of it dissolving above the rolling hills south of Cromer. Too early in the day to take advantage of it, we headed under overcast skies through tiny lanes banked up with green hedges. All the roads were narrow, and it seemed impossible that we were less than two miles from the nearest A road, less than six miles from Cromer, less than two hundred miles from central London. The fields were silent, the stillness in the air timeless.
Through the high banks we twisted, eventually coming out into the deep cut village of Metton, barely a hamlet really. A few council houses straggled beside the church. There were some larger, older houses to the east, and a farmer had cut a maze through his crops for children to run wild and freely in. We could hear their shouts from the churchyard. It was a lovely place to be, at once ancient and yet full of young life.
Most recently I returned to Metton in June 2019. The weather forecast had promised sunshine, but I'd got out at Roughton Road station under heavy cloud, and my bike ride to Felbrigg, my first port of call, had been into the chill of a wind carrying the occasional misty shreds of a sea fret from the coast, invisible beyond the northern horizon. But as I came into Metton, the clouds parted, and I felt the warmth of the sun for the first time that day like a benediction, and I pushed my bike through the awkward gate into the narrow churchyard.
St Andrew is a simple, aisleless 14th century church, heavily Victorianised with the introduction of late medieval-style window tracery. The high pitched nave roof rather overwhelms it all. As often in this part of Norfolk, refurbishing of the flint has been a cheap option, and that seems to have happened on the tower here. The most interesting feature is at the foot of the tower, for there is a processional way running from north to south, the western face of the tower being hard against the churchyard boundary. The northern side of the chancel is windowless now, but the prospect from the south, away from the village street, is gentle and timeless.
It must be said that this is always a gloomy interior to step into. This is mostly the fault of the Victorian restoration, which ceilured the roof, leaving nothing but a functionless wallplate with fascinating grotesques on it. The restoration here was fairly middle-of-the-road. The town church benches must have seemed the very thing in the 1870s, but today they are characterless and dull, out of keeping with the peace outside. You can't help thinking that the nave would be improved if they were replaced with modern wooden chairs. But the chancel recalls earlier days, rustic and simple, with a pammented floor and bare furnishings. The flowers make it feel a place at once well-loved and well-used, a delight. There are roundels of Flemish glass in the east window, set here by the Dennis King workshop in the early 1960s. A bishop stands and a monk kneels before the crucifixion. Another monk, a donor perhaps, kneels before St Jerome in the desert. An angel holds a chalice and a crucifix.
By the south door, hidden under the table, is a fine civilian brass to Robert and Matilda Doughty. Robert died in 1493, and presumably the brass was put in place before the death of his wife, because the place for her dates has been left blank. There are also a couple of brass inscriptions in the nave. One is directly beside the fine, if over-plastered, Norman tub font, which rather looks as if it was originally designed to stand against a wall or a pillar.
A curiosity is welded to the north wall, beside the door. This is the 19th century parish truncheon, a fascinating survival. These objects were symbols of authority rather than implements of aggression, but all the same I couldn't help wondering if it had cracked a few parish heads, and quite what the 18th century parishioners would say if they could come back and see it so fondly displayed.
I stood for a while, breathing in the silence. A bird started up in the churchyard, but it seemed distant. It was time to go. It struck me, not for the first time, that there is something sad about this church. Not exactly oppressive, for it calls me back again and again, but a feeling that this Victorian interior which had seemed so bright and earnest a century and a half ago has faded. It has seen its congregation shrink, as if they were leaving one by one, leaving only an echoing emptiness, except for services. The patina of the varnish and the tiles has dulled, and the whole place broods beneath the ceilure. Only the chancel still seems alive.
And there was something else, of course. As I signed the visitors' book, I noticed that several recent visitors mentioned their prayers for April. I thought that this was a lovely thing, that they remembered. I remembered too. Thirteen year old April Fabb's disappearance on the edge of this tiny village in the spring of 1969 haunted me as a little boy at the time, and still haunts East Anglia today. It regularly reappears in the news, most recently because of the event's fiftieth anniversary. Outside, beside the porch, an inscription to her memory on a headstone reads: Will you of your charity remember in your prayers APRIL FABB a child who disappeared from this parish in April 1969 of whom nothing has since been heard.
Queanbeyan Age (NSW : 1867 - 1904) | Thu 23 May 1872 | Page 2
Local and District News.
CEREMONY OF LAYING THE FOUNDATION STONE OF ST. STEPHEN'S CHURCH QUEANBEYAN.
LAST Thursday the first practical effort, towards church building on the part of the Presbyterians of Queanbeyan was made and attended with great success. We refer to the interesting ceremony of laying the foundation stone of the church intended for the accommodation of Presbyterian worshippers. The hour fixed for the ceremony was noon of that day, but it was nearly one o'clock before everything was in readiness. The weather previously had been very unpropitious, and up to midnight of Wednesday it threatened anything but a pleasant day. Notwithstanding, Thursday proved all that could be desired for the season of the year; the day was bright. The site was rendered very attractive by a profusion of bunting flaunting over the suspended stone, which hung in readiness for its final disposition by the lady who was to be entrusted with the resposibility and honour of declaring the same well and truly laid. Near at hand was a spacious pavilion occupied by a long table and seats —the former crowded with substantial viands intended for the refreshment of those who would attend the ceremony.
All things being in readiness, the Rev. John Gibson, of Yass, moderator of the presbytery of Goulburn, commenced the proceedings by giving out the Old Hundreth Psalm, which was sung by those present—about a hundred persons.
The Rev. James Paterson, M.A., of Braidwood, read an appropriate psalm, and offered prayer.
Mr. John Gale then came forward and said, as honorary secretary to the building committee he had been requested to make a financial statement, read certain communications, and offer a few preliminary remarks. It was to him a matter of surprise that the Presbyterians of Queanbeyan were so late in undertaking the building of a church for their better accommodation when assembled for the purpose of worshipping the God of their fathers after the manner, which to them seems right and proper. They had long worshipped under disadvantages, and though for some time past they had enjoyed the comparative convenience of the Court-house, yet they felt it was not exactly the place—that they might and ought to assemble in a place of their own set apart exclusively to the use of public worship. Although they were now, for the first time, met to witness the laying of the foundation stone of their long projected church, it reflected unfavourably upon them as a body that they had not done this long ago. Something like ten years ago, he recollected they got the promise of about £400 for the purpose of building a church, but for want of proper combination and energy nothing was done for a long lapse of time—so long, that subscribers became morally and legally relieved from the obligations of their promises. A little while ago they renewed their exertions, with very good results. A building committee was appointed, and that committee felt themselves justified in commencing operations without delay, which they did by calling for and accepting tenders for the work. The sum already promised was about £400, of which at least £350 was good; and it was thought it was with such a list quite safe to undertake the erection of a church whose estimated cost would be from £500 to £550. Their esteemed. fellow-townsman, the Rev. A. D. Soares, had generously furnished them with a plan and specifications of the work, and thus all things were in readiness. Acting under the instructions of the committee he (Mr Gale) had sent circulars far and wide, and on the whole the result had been very encouraging. If some whom they had invited were not present, in a few instances they had sent satisfactory apologies, and something encouraging to represent them. He would proceed to read letters from some to whom circulars had been sent. The first was from the Rev. A. D. Soares, who had been unexpectedly called away on professional business, but sent his first year's subscription and best wishes for the success of the undertaking. Then there followed a letter from their friend the Rev. S. F. Mackenzie, of Goulburn, whose late return after a long absence from home, had rendered it impossible to give his attendance, but whose letter closed with these kind words :—"I trust you may have a very successful gathering, and that the divine blessing may rest on your undertaking." He also read a letter from Mr Slatterie, of Gundaroo, stating his inability to attend, promising a further subscription, and wishing them "a pleasant day and a pledge of good things to come." These letters were as good as so many speeches, and obviated the necessity of many more words from him, beyond exhorting those present to contribute liberally and cheerfully to the fund by laying their contributions on the stone as soon as it should be declared well and truly laid. He was pleased to be able to announce that a lady whom they all knew and respected, the excellent wife of a most worthy man, had consented to lay the stone. There, in that cavity underneath the stone hanging under the triangle, the bottle which he held in his hand was to be laid. That homely looking bottle contained what in course of time antiquarians might regard with much interest and curiosity—viz., several coins of the realmu of different value, copies of the Queanbeyan Age of that day, of the Presbyterian, the Sydney Morning Herald, the Evening News, and of the following document:—
"The foundation stone of this St. Stephen's Presbyterian Church was laid on Thursday, the 16th day of May, A.D., 1872, by Elizabeth, wife of Charles McKeahnie Esq., of Booroomba, county of Cowley, district of Queanbeyan, an elder of the Presbyterian congregation of the said district.
"His Excellency Sir Alfred Stephen, Knight, Chief Justice of the Colony of New South Wales, administering the Government thereof.
"The Reverend Archibald Constable Geekie, D.D., Moderator of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church of New South Wales.
"The Reverend John Gibson, Moderator of the Presbytery of Goulburn.
"Minister of the Presbyterlan Church, Queanbeyan—vacant.
"Elder—Charles McKeahnie, Esq.
"Building Commlttee—Andrew Morton, Esq:, JP Chairman, R. W. McKellar, Esq., Treasurer. Mr. John Gale, Secretary. Messrs. J. J. Wright,. W. Graham, and E. McDonald.
"Trustees—Andrew Morton, Esq., J.P., Andrew Cunningham; Esq., J,P., Alexander Ryrie, Esq., J.P., J. J. Wright, Esq., J.P.
"Architect.—The Reverend A. D. Soares of Christ Church, Queanbeyan.
"Contractors.—Thomas Priest, for masonry; Thomas Jordan, for carpenter's work."
Nothing more remained for him to say than that the ceremony of laying the stone would now be proceeded with.
Rev. John Gibson then introduced Mrs McKeahnie, and having placed in her hand the bottle, that lady deposited it in the cavity prepared for its reception. The mortar having been spread, Mrs
McKeahnie smoothed it with a trowel, and the stone having been carefully lowered to its position, she struck it with a hammer, and in remarkably clear voice and pleasing manner said, "I declare this foundation stone of St. Stephen's Prebyterlaun church truly laid, and humbly dedicate the same in the name of the, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit Amen."
The Rev. J. Gibson came forward and said, that having been suffering for some days with neuralgic pains, and fearing that he would be unable to address them, otherwise to-day, he would read an address. The rev. gentleman then read as follows:—My dear Christian friends,—we are assembled now at the interesting ceremonial of laying the foundation stone of a Presbyterian Church on this spot. The time is brief since this scene of busy life was an extensive sweep of undulating land occupied by the blackfellow and kangaroo; but now we behold it, as if by magic, converted into a busy and Important town. The presence of humanity, with relations temporal and eternal, has imparted to the place secular worth and religious Interest. From a benovolent solicitude for the spiritual and social welfare of this important town and neighbourhood, the Presbyterians are about erecting a house for the Triune God. If it be asked, For what purpose are you going to erect this temple? we answer, The highest conceivable one—the sanctuary is for the Most High who condescends to dwell with men on the earth—to promote his glory, to serve his cause, and promote the kingdom of his dear Son. No personal or selfish interests are to be promoted by its erection, but it is to stand as a free will offering and memorial to the God of heaven. This will invest it with a beauty far transcending any architectural merits which it may possess. This will give it a glory which will cause it to outvie many a more towering structure. What purpose Is this building to serve? It is to promote the spiritual interests of the members of the community in which it is placed. It will stand on the side of order, virtue, and social progress. It will stand Identified with the rights of Cæsar, with the rule of the magistrate, and with the free obedience of the citizen. It will stand associated with the honour and integrity of the tradesman, with the love of the domestic circle, and with the peace and progress of the individual mind—with its future perfection, glory, and immortality. If the design of its erection be accomplished, it will be another well sunk in the arid plains of man's existence. Here the pure waters of salvation are intended to flow. Here the ignorant are to be instructed, the wanderer brought in, the backslider invited back, the far off prodigal called home. This is to stand as a sister lighthouse, to intimate to the voyager to eternity that there are shoals, rocks, and breakers ahead, and to guide to the port of eternal life and glory. May the preachers and people here ever keep near the desired chart and infallible compass, and harmoniously voyage on to the eternal ocean of love and joy! Dear friends, unless this object be effected—that is, subserve the interests of vital godliness in the district, our labour will be in vain. Let our prayer be, "God be merciful to us, and bless us. Save now we beseech thee, and send prosperity." We would not forget that other denominations are operating here to advance the same momentous and vital interests, and we would bid them God speed, and we trust they will heartily reciprocate our good wishes for their prosperity and usefulness. We have, as Presbyterians, our peculiarities, and we attach to them considerable importance—we hold them firmly, because conscientiously, and take them from the New Testament as our sufficient directory and model. We say in reference to human authority in the church—
"Let Cæsar's dues be ever paid,
To Cæsar and his throne,
But consciences and souls were made
To be the Lord's alone.
In the Christian ministry, we believe one alone is the Master, and all ministers brethren. Christ the head, and all his people "members one of another." But whilst we hold our scriptural polity with the greatest tenacity, we hold in common with other denominations, principles and truths infinitely more piecious, and we trust our piety will ever be strong enough to sustain the pratical pre-eminence of these, and the due subordination of the other. Looking at man in his fallen condition—debased, polluted, condemned, involved in a ruin from which there is no extrication without the redemption by Jesus Christ, and regeneration by the Holy Spirit, and holding tenaciously the proper divinity of the incarnate Redeemer, and to the consequent ineffable dignity and moral worth and power of his atoning death, and discarding with all vehemence the sacramental virtue of ordinances as the medium of the Spirit's regenerative action—a notion untenable in scripture, and philosopically absurd—for the sound old doctrine of the instrumentality of divine truth, which, permeated by the evangelical element, (our preaching and teaching take their inspiration from the cross)—proclaims Jesus Christ and him crucified as the only basis of a sinner's hope, and insists upon the apostolic testimony—repentence towards God and faith in Jesus Christ. May these precious soul-quickening truths be ever preached in the new edifice, and of many here, and others growing up may it be said, These were born in her and may the Highest establish her. Amen.
Dr. Andrew Morton, J.P., followed. He said, as one of the oldest Presbyterlans of the district, it was expected of him that he should say a few words. The Presbyterians were not the most numerous religious body in the district, and moreover they were for the greater part poor. To accomplish the task they had begun, it was necessary they should continue to exert themselves. Already they were encouraged by the presence and assistance of other religious bodies. But still they must depend mainly on themselves. They must put their shoulders to the wheel again and again, not in brief spasmodic efforts, but by unremitting perseverance, and then they would soon have the pleasure of seeing their undertaking finished in a manner creditable to all who took part in the same. He congratulated them that they were resolved to lie no longer under the reproach of being the only religious denomination in the town who had not a church of their own. It was true that God was not confined to buildings made by hands. Their ancestors, the grand old Covenanters, worshipped the Most High on the hill sides of their native land, owing to a persecuting government. But now the necessity for this no longer existed. Those who formerly persecuted were now found amongst the number who were assisting them in their noble work. While they were proud of the time when God was confessed under circumstances of persecution, he could not help thinking that these were better days, when all denominationse are found working side by side and mutually assisting each other in one grand object they had in view.
(Cheers,)
At the close of Dr. Morton's address contributions amounting to £22 10s were laid upon the stone, and upon the sum being announced, and the doxology sung, the company present adjourned to the pavilion to lunch.
THE LUNCHEON,
which was an ample spread, was provided by the generous oontributions. of town and country friends, and consisted of all the seasonable, dishes, with a liberal supply of wines. About one hundred sat down to the refreshments provided, but so abundant were the supplies, that not one-half of the provisions were consumed.
At the close of the meal, the Rev. J. Gibson called for three cheers for the Queen, which were loyally given, and the company dispersed for a short time.
THE TEA MEETING.
The remainder of the afternoon was spent by several active ladies and gentlemen in preparing for tea at the oddfellows' hall. At about seven, p.m., the hall was filled, and on the arrival of the clergymen, grace was sung, and tea served. The ladles presiding at, and who had provided the tables, were—Mrs Graham, Mrs Mackellar, and Mrs Gale: They were assisted in their pleasant but arduous task of serving by several other ladles. A very pleasant hour was spent over tea, and then the company adjourned to the open air, while the tables were being removed and preparations completed for
THE PUBLIC MEETING.
The chair was occupied by Dr. Morton, who called upon the Rev. J. Gibson to give out a hymn and offer prayer, after which
The Chairman, acknowledging the honour conferred upon him in calling him to preside over the meeting, and regretting that he was not better quailfied to fill the chair, said he felt gratified to find that after long years of delay, and procrastination, the Presbyterians of Queanbeyan at length had the prospect before them of seeing a church of their own erected. It was well known that as a religious community they were poor—few were poorer than they, but he felt confident that what had occurred that day was an earnest that they were able to remove the stigma which had too long rested upon them —that they were the only religious denomination in the town who were not in a position to possess a church of their own. There were no difficulties before them but such as they might overcome, especially when, as they saw today, members of other religious persuasions were so ready to come forward to their assistance. There was a time when the various religious bodies were antagonistic to each other; there was a time when the Presbyterians were the objects of persecution by those who were now so ready to encourage and support them. It was a hopeful sign of the times that they were all able and disposed to throw aside minor differences to carry on the great work of spreading the gospel. He trusted they would never more witness those painful dissentions and strifes which had so characterised the past. It was not needful for him to say more as there were present those who would do full justice to the occasion which had brought them together. Having congratulated, the Presbyterians of the district on witnessing the laying of the foundation stone of St. Stephen's Church, and expressed a hope that at no very distant day they would assemble to witness its opening, the Chairman concluded by calling upon the secretary for a statement and a few remarks.
Mr Gale rose and said, in obedience to the request of the chairman he would, for the information of those who were not present at the laying of the foundation stone, repeat in substance what he stated on that occasion. He then gave a brief statement of the means at the disposal of the building committee, the probable estimate of their undertaking, and the amount still necessary to be raised in order to liquidate the debt which the committee would incur. After a few words of congratulation on the success which had so far attended their efforts, and giving expression to his belief that their exertions would not be relaxed until they had brought their undertaking to a succeesful issue, he concluded by urging upon Presbyterians the duty of renewed consecration of themselves to the service of God and more unity of purpose and effort amongst themselves.
The Rev. J. Gibson, the next speaker, said he was glad, seeing what great preparations bad been made, that he had made an effort to be present, and regretted that others whom they, had expected were not there also. Since they last met he noticed there had been a divorce and a marriage, but fortunately no breach of promise case. Their late pastor was in one sense married to them, but he had chosen nevertheless to go and settle elsewhere. This was the divorce. The marriage he referred to—that of the Rev. S F. Mackenzie—doubtless had something to do with that gentleman's absence from the interesting ceremonies of the day. He was pleased to notice that notwithstanding the Presbyterians of Queanbeyan were deprived of their minister they had the pluck to commence the erection of a church. He had not seen the plan, but presumed the design would be chaste and appropriate. He emphatically denounced the miserable spirit which was content with erecting a mean building for the worship of the Most High. Their style of church architecture ought to be improved; they ought to launch out more—
Larger boats may venture more, While smaller boats keep close to shore.
He hoped the Queanbeyan church of St Stephen's would be a beautiful one, and that the press, the pulpit, and the ladies would use their best energies to secure that laudable object. He complimented Mrs McKeahnie on the graceful and efficient manner in which she had discharged her honourable duty that day, and well and truly laid the foundation stone. Such ceremonies were not new to him, and he professed to know something about them. Referring to his being present, during his last visit to England, when the Prince of Wales laid a foundation-stone, he said he was glad that Almighty God In his good providence had raised up his Royal Highness from the gates of death (loud cheers), and he hoped he was spared to become a better man. He referred also to his church-building experience in the West Indies, and related some interesting incidents connected therewith; and said he was proud to observe that morning so much money laid on the stone instead of being buried underneath it. If Queanbeyan could not finish unaided the noble work they had undertaken, he hoped they would send a deputation to Yass where he knew they would find help; and a noble church he hoped they would have. The Presbyterlans of Yass had lately improved their own church in a way that they had no reason to be ashamed of it, for he thought It would now compare favourably with any other church in Yass. He admitted there were many degenerate sons of the noble old Covenanters who had turned away from them and were giving the cold shoulder to the cause; but he exhorted all present nevertheless to cleave to the church of their fathers, and they would be sure to prosper in the work they had undertaken. Referring to the past, he blushed to think that the Presbyterians of Queanbeyan, had had over them men who were not fit to be ministers—of course their late pastor formed a honourable exceptian; but, though he did not approve of the Rev. W. Mackenzie leaving them he trusted God would overrule all for good, and send them a man after His own heart. He added —" Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do do it with thy might." Let it not be said "these men began to build and were not able to finish." Of this, he said, there was little fear while they had their McKeahnies and Mortons to stand by them; and his concluding words were, "Establish Thou the work of our hands upon us: yea, the work of, our hands establish Thou it."
Mr. W. G. O'Neill was then called upon, and rising expressed the pleasure it afforded him to coöperate with the Presbyterians in furthering the interests of their church. Some 14 or 15 years ago, when the late Rev. Mr Ross was conducting a meeting in the old court house over the river, an effort was put forth to build a Presbyterian Church, but through all these past years nothing had actually been done until to-day; and now they had got the steam up he trusted they would go ahead at the rate of 30 or 40 knots an hour. One gentleman had spoken of having beautiful churches. The realisation of this object lay with the ladies. If one-half of what they spent in personal adournment were appropriated to church-building there would be no difficulty in the way. Again, there were plenty of rich men who had the means, if they only had the will, to render miaterial assistance,and all should give according to their means, in which case they would have a church which would be a credit to. the Presbyterian body, and all would be able to say they had a few bricks in the structure. They were bound by the claims of Christian brotherhood to help one another, in accordance with the spirit of the well-known hymn beginning—
"Help us to help each other, Lord."
The Presbyterians of Queanbeyan were not very strong and they needed help, but as they had been liberally disposed towards others he knew that others would help them now, He hoped they would get on from this out. If he could solicit subscriptions for the new church he would be happy to do so, and thus return their favours. He concluded by wishing all success to the undertaking they had commenced that day.
The Rev. Charles Jones was next asked to address the meeting. He was glad to see such a number present, but felt disappointed In having to, speak before the senior ministers had addressed the meeting. He was glad to be associated with gatherings of the members of the church of the Redeemer. Such occasions called to mind the God on high who helps them in their undertakings for his glory, and was their Father and Friend, whom they had promised to obey, and whose laws they had taken as their guide through life. Their great desire was success in all sections of the church. If they had that day been successful in laying the foundation stone, what was to prevent their success in raising the superstructure of their chureh, and in paying their minister's stipend, and this would be matter for thankfulness. It was pleasant to see one of their fair ones come forth, as had been done that day, and lay the foundation stone of their new chiurch, and it was pleasant to see the various signs of prosperity which surrounded them, But it was possible to witness all this, and yet fall short of true success. Success of the best kind must be looked for in other things. It lay in the salvation of men, and not in the erection of a building or in attention to secular affairs. Their grand work lay in achieving the wonders of redeeming grace in the salvation of perishing men. Jesus's words to his disciples were " Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men." The great work of the present day was to raise the fallen and spread scriptural holiness throughout the world, and thus anticipate the joys of everlasting life. In his humble opinion, when a church ceased to be a soul-saving church it mistook its mission ; if it was not successful in bringing souls to God, it was not successful at all. To be successful required nothing more than to follow the Lord Jesus, and be true to their principles and the truths of God. It was dillicult at all times to be faithful to God, but he instanced the case of Ahab and Elijah to show that courage and fidelity were necessary in reproving superiors. Something more than spasmodic effort was necessary to accomplish their object—their's was a life-plan work. And it would not do to break down their precepts by ill example. The present standard of Christian morals was lower than it ought to be—was enough to make them ashamed, and it was no wonder they were not more successful. The duty of the Christian church was to let its light shine, and if every Christian did but observe his duty in this respect there would be more conversions to God. He reminded them of the command given to the disciples to tarry at Jerusalem until endued with power from on high, and argued that in like manner all Christians were to look for the baptism of the Spirit in order to be enabled to adorn the gospel of God. He concluded by exhorting his hearers to trust in the promises of God and look forward to the time when Ethiopia shall stretch out her hands unto God and heaven and earth should be filled with one song— Hallelujah! for the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth! He wished them every success, not only in their church building, but in winning souls, for thus should they shine as the brightness df the firmament and as the stars for ever and ever.
The Rev. James Paterson said, when their honorary secretary invited him to the laying of, the foundation stone of their new church, he did not tell him of the tea meeting which was to follow, or, like another reverend brother, he might have found an excuse for his absence; but having promised he was determined not to back out. After some remarks on the weather, and the bright day and pleasant ceremony they had enjoyed, he observed that he was disappointed at seeing so few present at the ceremony. Such an event did not occur every day, and more ought to have been present, though perhaps money considerations kept some away. Having passed censure, he would now bestow praise upon those who had so well furnished the tables both at luncheon and and tea. He felt very happy, and wished to thank those of other denominations for their promises of help, and to remind Presbyterians that they could not expect, others to labour for them unless they did their best for themselves. They should remember the old proverb—" God helps those who help them selves." He accorded all praise to the McKeahnies, and Mortons, and Grahams of their number, but it was necessary that all should put their shoulder to the wheel. He gave them an illustration from natural history of the power of combination. There was a variety of monkey, which when wishing to cross a river selected an overhanging tree and ascending it linked head and tail and thus formed a chain until it became long enough to reach by a process of oscillation a tree on the opposite bank of the river, which was grasped by the monkey at the extremity of the chain, and thusa bridge was formed over which they all passed in safety. It was wonderful what could be done by combined action. He urged them not to have a large debt upon their church; nothing could be more to their discredit or discouragement, and it was well known that people would not go into a debt-laden church for fear of being taxed for its liquidation, and moreover ministers were loth to accept a call in such cases. He exhorted them to cleave to each other and live on the best of terms with other denominations of Christians. He shoped that ere long they would have a minister sent amongst them, and he hoped they would encourage him by attending regularly on the ordinances. Referring to their own ecclesiastical system, he said be should like to see in it more pliancy. There were excellences in the Wesleyan and Church of England systems which they might copy with advantage. He referred to the employment of lay preachers, and of sending out catechists or candidates for the ministry to occupy stations for which they had no ordained ministers, and under the supervision of ministers of neighbouring districts, and to go up annually to pass an examination until they were fitted for ordination. Thus they could supplement the work of the college, and from Wollongong to Eden, and elsewhere, fields of labour existed which an agency of this sort could fill. He concluded by expreesiong a hope that the Presbyterians of Queanbeyan would date a new era from that day for great spiritual prosperity, and that amongst them many sons and daughters might be born to the Lord.
Mr R. W. Mackellar rose to propose a vote of thanks, and not to make a speech, for the subjects under consideration were exhausted. He moved that the thanks of the meeting be accorded to the ladies and others who had so liberally provided for their, wants that day.
Mr C. McKeahnie seconded the motion, which was carried by acclamation.
Mr Gale moved, and Mr O'Neill seconded, a vote of thanks to the chairman and clerical visitors, and this also being carried by acclamation, and duly acknowledged, the benediction was pronounced, and the meeting broke up.
We understand total proceeds for the day including remittances from absentees, amounted to over £85.
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Queanbeyan Age (NSW : 1867 - 1904) | Wed 11 Mar 1874 | Page 2
LOCAL INTELLIGENCE.
ST. STEPHEN'S CHURCH, QUEANBEYAN.
THE OPENING SERVICES
OF this, the first place of Presbyterian worship built in Queanbeyan, were conducted on Sunday last under very encouraging and auspicious circumstances.
The building was commenced about two years ago, the foundation being completed and the chief corner stone laid by Mrs Charles McKeahie, with the usual ceremonies, on the 16th May, 1872. Owing to oversight in not binding the various contractors to time the works have been carried on but tardily, and even now the church is in a very incomplete state, as stated in our last issue.
A description of the building may not be out of place here, before we notice more particularly the services of Sabbath last. The design is gothic, and the material of the walls is rubble stone, neatly jointed, the copings of the buttresses, the parapets, string courses, &c., being of Portland cement. The building. comprises the body of the church, which furnishes accomodation for about 150 hearers, a neat porch, and a "session room," or vestry, at the rear. A bell-turret, surmounted by a spire-which is covered with zinc, and from its paltry appearance is the only defect noticeable in the building to ordinary spectators—springs from the right angle of the front gable of the building. The corbels from which the arches of the doors and windows spring are chastely wrought flowers and human heads of Grecian features. There are ten narrow windows in the main building, two smaller ones in the porch, and one in the vestry. These, as well as a large quatre-foil window in the gable behind the pulpit, are to be of stained glass, and although the order for them was given some time ago they had not arrived in time for the opening.
Exteriorly the church is, with the, defect already mentioned, a very handsome structure, and reflects great credit on the architect who designed it and when the grounds around it are properly laid out, and the gates and ornamental fence erected, the Presbyterian Church of St. Stephen's will be one of the handsomest public buildings in Queanbeyan ; and facing, as it does, the public recreation reserve, will always have the advantage of being a conspicuous object in, the foreground.
The interior of the church is beautiful, and in thorough keeping with the exterior. Ascending three broad steps the porch is gained, and thence, passing through folding doors, the church is entered. The first object which strikes the attention of the observer is a very handsome rostrum, rising from a low platform, and surmounted by a bookboard. This is lighted by two chaste lamps. We may mention that this necessary piece of church furniture is the workmanship, as well as the gift, of Mr John Kealman, who has the contracts for the seats—a portion of which only are as yet completed—and the gates and palisading fence enclosing the allotment. Two elaborate four-burner lamps, of the same pattern as those on the pulpit or desk mentioned above, depend from the ceiling and light the body of the church. The lamps were selected by Mr J. J. Wright on his recent visit to Sydney. The inner roof or ceiling is somewhat peculiar, and in our opinion the interior would have had a better effect to the eye if the ordinary open roof had been substituted for the present arrangement. Though, perhaps, for acoustic purposes the plan adopted is preferable. The ceiling springs from the wallplates erect for a foot or eighteen inches, and then by two or three slight angles, or "covings" rises archlike to the centre. It is lined with tongued-and-grooved pine, coloured and varnished in harmony with the oak graining of the doors and window frames.
Mr Thos. Priest was the contractor for the masonry Mr T. Jordon, for the carpenters' work; Mr J. Evitts, for the plastering ; Mr F. A. Helmund, for the painters' work; and Mr John Kealman, for the interior fittings, the windows, and the gates and fencing. The belfry is fitted with a bell, the gift of Mr Holdsworth, of Sydney.
The cost of the building is not exactly estimated ; but will probably exceed £500.
Although the seats for the Church were not completed in readiness for the opening services, through the courtesy of the Rev. C. Jones, who lent the spare seats of the Wesleyan Church, and Colonel Russell, P.M., who gave permission for the use of the Court-house forms ; ample accomodation, it was believed, had been provided for those who would attend the services of Sabbath last. Indeed, considering that the seats used were not made for the building, they were capable of very convenient arrangement and provided nearly as much sitting accommodation as the church can afford. But, nevertheless, long before the hour of morning service it was evident that the church would be crowded. And by eleven o'clock, all the available sitting and standing room, including the porch its-self, was occupied—the congregation crowding to the very feet of the minister, and a large number, who had been unable to gain admittance, were obliged to go away. There could not have been less than two hundred persons crowded into the church and porch during the morning service, many of whom had come from the country—some as far as twenty-five or thirty miles distant.
The Rev. R. Steel, M.A., Ph. D., of St. Stephen's Church, Sydney, conducted the opening services. The morning service began by singing the Old Hundredth Psalm, and a dedicatory prayer, appropriate chapters from the Bible, and other devotional exercises, the reverend docter announced his text from the Book of Genesis, 28th chap. v. 22—" And this stone, which I have set for a pillar, shall be God's house." The preacher introduced his subject by reminding his hearers of the object which had brought them together that day—to dedicate that building to the worship of Almighty God.
"The sound of the church-going bell,"
had that morning called to mind a multitude of reminiscences—Bible scenes—associations of their youth, and of other lands. He dwelt upon these in a descriptive manner, which arrested the breathless attention of the congregation, and awoke the tenderest emotions of their hearts. Churches were places of prayer, praise, and instruction. He expatiated on these points of discourse at large, showing the duty and advantages of public worship, and concluded an eloquent and powerful sermon, which occupied about an hour in delivery, by expressing his earnest wish that the place wherein they were assembled might become the birthplace of many souls.
The Sacrament of Baptism was then administered to two infants, and the service was brought to a close by prayer, singing, and the Apostolic Benediction.
The collection at morning service amounted to £7 14s 8d.
The evening service was begun at 7 o'clock ; and many who were disappointed of a seat in the morning, were there betimes in order to secure accommodation. As in the morning the church was crowded, the porch also, and many persons stood around the building wherever they could hear the sermon. The evening text was Ephesians v. 1.—"Be ye therefore followers of God, as dear children." The discourse founded upon these words was very fine. The love which God bears for mankind was dwelt upon and illustrated in a variety of ways which could not have failed to carry conviction to the hearts of those who heard the preacher's fervent words ; and the manner in which God's children are to imitate Him in His communicable attribites was ably set forth.
The collection at the close of the evening service amounted to £2 19s 8d.
Last week, two of my friends offered to take me on a tour of the jewels of Norfolk churches. Despite having lived in either north Suffolk or Norfolk most of my life, back in those days I had no idea about churches, nor half the villages where these jewels can be found, even existed.
First on the list was Salle.
It was a grim, wet and misty morning when Sarah and Richard picked me up at the Catholic Cathedral, and so we made our way against the rush hour traffic whilst Richard tried to keep the windscreen clear as my clothes dried out causing a slight fog in the car.
Ss Peter and Paul seems to be in the middle of nowhere, with just two other buildings keeping it company. Salle was clearly a rich parish back in the day, as it is a huge church, serving the village and the large country house, lost to view behind trees nearby.
It is a church that has something for everyone: font and cover, support arm for font cover, good glass, fine memorials, two hidden chapels, painted screens and carved bosses. And so much more beside.
Here is what my friend Simon has to say. He likes it too.
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During their awesome reign over the other great teams of Europe in the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool football club placed a huge sign in the changing room corridor, so that it was the last thing visiting teams saw before they walked out on to the pitch: This is ANFIELD, it warned. The name alone was enough to impress. Similarly, the cover of the guidebook here proclaims, in a single word, SALLE. Again, it suffices; the word, pronounced to rhyme with call, stands for the building. Perhaps only the name Blythburgh has the same power in all East Anglia.
St Peter and St Paul is big. This is accentuated by the way in which it stands almost alone in the barley fields, with only a couple of Victorian buildings and a cricket pitch for company. What an idyllic spot! And yet there is an urban quality to the building, as if this was some great city church in the middle of Norwich or Bristol. It went up in the course of the 15th century, a replacement for an earlier building on the same site, broadly contemporary with neighbouring Cawston. While Cawston was largely the work of a single family, here the building benefited from an accident of history; several very wealthy families owned manors and halls in the parish at the same time, and it so happened that the time was the greatest era of rural church building.
Among them were the Boleyns, the Brewes, the Mautebys, the Briggs, the Morleys, the Luces and the Kerdistons, and some of their shields appear above the great west door, along with two mighty censing angels, characteristic of late medieval piety. A steady stream of hefty bequests meant that no expense needed to be spared, and the mighty tower with its vast bell openings was topped with battlements and pinnacles on the very eve of the Reformation.
As at Blythburgh, St Peter and St Paul benefited from the restraint of a late restoration, and the building as we see it now has no external Victorian additions. It is all of a piece. The porches either side are huge affairs, matching the transepts, and give the effect of a vast animal, a dragon perhaps, sprawling with erect head in the Norfolk countryside. Its tail is the chancel, in itself longer and higher than many Norfolk churches. The aisles are tall, austere, parapeted, the Perpendicular windows arcades of glass. In the porches, the vaulted ceilings are studded with bosses; the central one in the north porch depicts Christ in Majesty, sitting on a rainbow in judgement.
You enter the building from the west, an unusual experience in East Anglia, and your first sight is of the seven sacraments font with its tall 15th century canopy, similar to the cover at Cawston. This one is so big it is supported by a crane attached to the ringing gallery under the tower.
The font below is interesting because each panel is supported by an angel holding a symbol of the sacrament above - a pot of chrism oil beneath Baptism, for example. The panels themselves are simply done, and are not particularly characterful, apart from the way that Mary turns away and is comforted at the Crucifixion. This panel faces west, and then anticlockwise are the Mass (viewed sideways, as at nearby Great Witchingham), Ordination (the candidate kneeling), Baptism (a server holds the book up for the Priest to read), Confirmation (the candidate obviously a child), Penance (perhaps the most interesting panel - the penitent kneels in a shriving pew), Matrimony (the couples' hands joined by a stole, she in late 15th century dress) and finally Last Rites (the dying man on the floor under blankets as at Great Witchingham).
You can see all these panels below - click on them to enlarge them. The font step has a dedicatory inscription to John and Agnes Luce, asking for prayers for their souls. We know that John died in 1489. Perhaps the actual fabric of the building was complete by this date.
Beyond the font stretches the vastness of the building, the arcades gathering the eyes and leading them forward to the great east window. The chancel arch is barely there at all, just a simple high opening; but as MR James pointed out, it was never intended to be seen.The sheer bulk of the rood screen dado tells us quite how vast the rood apparatus must have been here, and the arch would have been pretty well hidden. Everything is built to scale; although everything has been cut off above the panels, probably in the late 1540s, the panels themselves are enormous, almost six feet high. As at Cawston, St Gregory, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, the four Doctors of the Church, are on the doors. Either side are just two surviving paintings; to the north are Thomas and James, to the south are Philip and Bartholomew. The empty panels are a mystery; the screen stood here for a century before its destruction, so it must have been finished; and the dado seems too high to have been hidden by nave altars. And yet, it has all the appearance of never having been painted.
Because the building is so vast, the surviving medieval glass seems scattered, but there is actually a lot of it and some of it is very significant. Some was moved during the restoration of the early 20th century, when the hideous modern glass in the north transept was installed, and the yellow galley lozenges were thankfully replaced with clear glass in the 1970s. The images in the east window are mainly figures; old kings kneel before young princes, there are armoured men and angels, the remains of a scaly dragon. In the centre at the bottom is a perfect Trinity shield, displayed by an angel looking askance.
Some of the panels are now in the south transept. These include fragments of a set of the orders of angels. A kneeling figure is Thomas Brigg, donor of the transept; the scroll behind him begins Benedicat Virgo, 'Blessed Virgin'. The mother of God sits surrounded by red glory, and two women holding croziers, one of them crowned, may be St Etheldreda and St Hilda. Certainly, the crowned figure holding a cross is St Helena. You can see all these above.
Despite the wonders of the font, the screen and the glass, the great glory of the building for me is the set of bosses that line the roof of the chancel. They are easily missed, being very high, and need a good lens; a couple of my photos did not come out as well as I'd hoped, and so I must go back, as if I needed an excuse. There are nine altogether, the first and last set against the walls at the ends of the roof ridge, and they form a kind of rosary sequence of joyful and glorious mysteries. They start with the Annunciation in the west (see left) and then continue with the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Adoration of the Magi, the Presentation in the Temple, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection , and the Ascension into Heaven. You can see these last eight in John Salmon's splendid photographs below.
There is a fine set of return stalls in the chancel. Although Salle probably never had a college of Priests, all those Masses for the dead must have provided plenty of employment, because we know that there were seven Priests here at a time when the population of the parish was barely 200. Bench ends include heads, a dragon tied up in a knot, a restored pelican in her piety, and a monkey. The misericord seats feature faces, including one that is quite extraordinary.
Although the roof isn't up to the glory of neighbouring Cawston, it includes lots of original angels and paintwork, including sacred monograms, and around the wallplate part of the Te Deum Laudamus and psalm 150. These particular texts seem to have provided the inspiration for many late 15th century interiors; the angels in the roof, the animals on the bench ends, the Saints on the rood screen all in harmony: Let everything that has breath Praise ye the Lord! The benches are mostly renewed now, but the pulpit is an elegant example of the 15th century, from the time when a priority began to be placed on preaching.
Curiously, it has been rather awkwardly converted into a three-decker arrangement, probably in the 18th century, with the addition of a platform and desk from a set of box pews. A large sounding board has been placed overhead. The box pews suggest that the medieval furnishings were replaced at an early date, although the replacements too have gone now.
Salle is one of those churches full of intriguing little details that might easily pass you by, so great is the wonder of everything around. Those two little corbel heads above the south door, for instance - what were they for? Perhaps they supported an image that could be seen from the north doorway as people entered, although not a St Christopher as the guidebook suggests, I think. There is a pretty piscina in the unfortunate north transept that has been outlined in wood, a memorial and helm above, a tall image bracket in the corner of the wall of the south transept, a floreated piscina nearby.
There are many brasses and brass inlays in the nave floor; one of the most interesting is a chalice brass (although the chalice is now gone) to Simon Boleyn, a Priest, who died in 1489, and to the east of it a pair of brasses to Geoffrey and Alice Boleyn, great-grandparents to Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII. Another pair of brasses are to Thomas and Katherine Rose and their eight children. Unlike many churches, Salle actually retains some of the 'missing' brasses, now locked away for safety. It would be nice to think they could eventually be reset in the floor.
One part of the building that many visitors must miss is the chapel above the north porch. There is no sign indicating it; but the doorway, at the west end of the north aisle, is always open. Inside, the vaulted roof is punctuated by spectacularly pretty bosses which you can view at close quarters. The colour is a bit fanciful, but they are fascinating, particularly the central boss of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven - how on earth did that survive the Reformation?
This is a tremendous building, a box of fascinating delights. What purpose does it serve now? As I said in the introduction, its size was not in response to the needs of a congregation, and as far as worship is concerned it will never be full. It remains constantly in use, however; for regular services in the chancel, sometimes for concerts and recordings, but also of course for the poshest sort of wedding, the kind only the Church of England can provide, and no doubt other elements of the core business of CofE PLC. It is easy to be cynical, but if they ensure the survival of the building, then so be it.
Simon Knott, June 2004