Esmerelda / Come What May sailing in the Sound of Bute, Scotland. Inchmarnock and Arran in the distance

 

Log of the Dinghy Esmerelda or Come What May

Three seasons learning to sail (1998 - 2000)

 

May 1998

For years, it seems, it has been at the back of my mind that, when it was convenient, I would learn to sail my own boat. Life being such as it is, I have spent the last nine years living within ten minute's walk of the sea but have not been in a sailing boat in all that time. Last weekend, I answered an advert in the local paper. Now, I am the proud owner of a 14ft Lark sailing dinghy! Ian, the seller, kindly offered to teach me to sail her. She’s a modest little boat, but seems worth the price. Adam (my elder son) is delighted and is raring to have a go.

****

Yesterday evening was our first time out on the water, not on the tide, but on West Kirby marine lake in the Dee estuary. I felt very much an incompetent land-lubber. I have a whole new set of coordination skills to learn, certainly more than when learning to ride a motorcycle or drive a car, but this is part of the challenge. I think it helps to have the limbs and bodily plasticity of an octopus.

****

Ian took me out in the boat for the second time yesterday evening and it was beautiful! - sun sinking in the west, warm blue sky, a gentle breeze and the boat gliding effortlessly through the water. If I am not yet completely hooked, then I soon shall be. My aspirations are modest: I'd be thrilled simply to learn the necessary skills and gain the confidence to navigate the Wirral coast.

****

This sailing has really got a grip on me. I spent last Thursday night in Manchester so that I could start earlier on Friday in order to be home by 5 p.m. to take the boat out. It was wild! The wind was approaching force 4 and we managed to capsize twice, (although we were the last boat on the lake to do so). It is a wonderful activity which, like mountaineering, is completely absorbing both mentally and physically, and which, if you're not actually doing it, then you're thinking about doing it or pottering around with the equipment. I'm pleased, because it has restored a dimension to my life that has been sadly lacking for a few years. Alix and I have decided definitely to withdraw our house from sale and stay put here on the coast, at least for the foreseeable future.

 

Inanimate objects

I hesitate to consider my boat an inanimate object. She has several traits suggestive of animation, and female at that:

a nice shape,

moves gracefully,

behaves wilfully,

demands attention,

requires sensitive handling,

and on two occasions has been quite upset and ditched me.

 

Friday 12th June 1998

Stimulating, thrilling, absorbing and therapeutic.

We went out last Saturday and plan to again this Saturday. It is time I took it out on my own though, or rather with someone I can't rely on to take the initiative in a tricky situation. After all, the whole idea is to sail this boat myself. With this in mind, I persuaded my German colleage Tobias to come over on Sunday to join me. He has never sailed, so it'll be the blind leading the blind, but it has to be the quickest way to learn.

 

Sunday 14th June 1998

Achievement!

I took the boat out truly as 'skipper' this evening (with Tobias). The wind was northerly, gusting force 4, and slightly intimidating - I nearly called the whole thing off - but once we'd cast off it was magical!

Suddenly after all the flapping and palaver of rigging, all is quiet and smooth as we glide downwind. A slightly anxious moment ensues when I realize we'll have to gybe before we run out of lake, but this manoeuvre works smoothly and I realize with relief that I can actually tack back against the wind.

After an hour, despite some interesting moments, we have managed to avoid capsizing and are still relatively dry. We are rewarded by the sun peeping out from under the clouds just before it vanishes below the horizon.

 

Clynnog fawr, Lleyn Peninsula, north Wales, July 1998

 

Wonderful holiday! - the best I think for several years. Brothers Martin and Chris and our three families (15 of us in all) staying in a farm house together. Best of all was to see all the kids together (eight cousins and one half-sister) - how the older ones looked after and amused the younger ones, and also how the younger ones amused the adults, and how the adults are actually kids at heart and behave as such when they are all together. It was invaluable to have so many young cousins for Adam to play with, and to be able to let Ricky trot out into the large green spaces around the house and to play in the sand, knowing that there were nearly always three or four others keeping an eye on him.

 

The farm itself was in a beautiful location on a magnificent length of coast, north west facing, catching the best of the sunsets. The whole area is delightfully quiet and unspoilt (and only two hours drive from home, even towing the boat). The weather was not ideal, but we still managed to spend a large proportion of the time outside.

 

At the beginning of the week high winds, cloud and some rain made it quite unsuitable for sailing but we managed some hiking and some went horse riding. By Wednesday, the forecast was slightly better and we'd discovered relative shelter and what seemed to be a nice launching site at the northern end of Llanberis Lake, so we decided to sail come what may. [At this moment Come What May suggested itself as a name for my boat. Only later did I discern the name Esmerelda almost completely faded written on the hull.]

It turned out to be a delightful, sunny and warm afternoon, the shore had trees to climb, sticks and stones to splash in the water and soft grassy spots for picnics. We launched and I was able to take everyone out in turn. For Adam and Alix it was actually their first time, the complexities of child care being what they are. Adam was fairly excited but not a hundred percent confident, he finds it a little intimidating but hopefully that will change. It was the perfect day for him - gentle and warm.

 

The next day started fine with a light breeze. Majority interest however determined that we go riding again followed by a pub lunch, but in the afternoon I was determined to get the boat out. The tide was up and three of us succeeded in handling it down a steep track to the shore and then over small, slippery, seaweed-covered boulders to the water's edge.

I still find it miraculous how, once rigged, with a quick shove and hop in, we are gliding through the water as if by magic (hoping a freak gust doesn't turn us round before I grab hold of the tiller and get the centreplate down!)

Caernarfon Bay, and first time on the sea! The swell was a little daunting as we sailed into deeper water, especially with four adults aboard (not sailed with that many before), but I practised a few tacks, sailing up-wind and down-wind, and she seemed to handle alright without shipping water, albeit a bit heavy at the tiller, so I was happy. It was a delight with the rhythm of the waves and the late afternoon sun sparkling through the spray and sea to the open horizon; with our course set for the open Atlantic I just wanted to keep going. Fortunately, I didn't. All of a sudden there was no more resistance on the tiller and we swung round into the wind: the rudder had torn off its mounting! I was glad that I'd invested in some oars as a precaution with which we were able to turn about to face shoreward; then, by holding the rudder (fortunately still attached to the boat by the uphaul line) and leaning right into the water astern, we were able to hold a course back to the shore. I since realised that the reason the rudder felt so heavy in the first place was because it was not engaged in its fixed down position but trailing horizontally behind; the extra leverage combined with the weight in the boat must have sheared the two mounting bolts. I've now repaired it with four new reinforcing bolts. It was a learning experience and exciting at the time. The others all seemed to enjoy it and seemed to think it was all in a day's sailing adventures.

 

7th August 1998

Last weekend was wonderful. Summer finally seemed to have arrived: it was comfortable to spend dawn 'til dusk in shorts and T shirt and to sit out late in the garden for dinner with a bottle of wine after the kids were in bed. Adam and I went onto the beach on Sunday and spent a good hour just splashing in the sea and being crabs and sea-monsters wallowing in the deep soft sand. Simple happiness!

More exciting still, I took the boat out twice. First, on West Kirby marine lake completely on my own for the very first time. I was out on the water by 7.30 a.m., it was a gorgeous morning and I had the whole lake and, indeed it seemed, the whole estuary to myself. Second, again on my own, on the high tide for the first time. Two significant achievements which have given me such a thrill that I can't wait to do it again! In fact, I can now say that I have achieved my long held ambition of being able to sail my own boat on the sea, albeit in very easy conditions: a smooth surface and barely a breath of wind. I sailed for three hours on the high spring tide and was really chuffed to be out there on my own, but it would have been nice to have had some good company too. I feel this is only the beginning: my curiosity is already drawing me to peruse the second-hand yacht sections of the sailing magazines!

 

17th August 1998

I had my sailing abilities stretched this weekend when I took the boat out on the tide in a breeze that was slightly too strong for me (also my muscles and parts of the boat were well stretched). It was a humbling experience:

On the sea front, the breeze felt rather intimidating. The lifeguard on duty hailed me, having seen me with my boat the previous week,

"Going out today?"

I confided my reservations to him, but he replied, presumably intending to encourage me,

"Only way to learn, by experience!"

This was a challenge I felt bound to accept.

Having rigged and launched, all there was to do was push off and hop in. It was that moment of hesitation that reminded me of the feeling I had as a novice skier on the lip of my first black run: the point of no return. Hesitation over, the first few seconds I spent struggling to lower the rudder, which for some reason would not go down (because, I found out later, I'd hitched the uphaul too tight), while keeping an eye on other boats at their moorings skimming past me at an alarming rate even before I'd trimmed the sails. In the excitement, I forgot to lower the centreplate, which meant that having covered about half a mile in what seemed like about ten seconds I tried to come about into the wind but couldn't. Hemmed in by a sand bank on one side and an approaching groyne on the other, there seemed to be little room to manoeuvre and all I could do was gybe, but this didn't work properly either and I capsized. I realised the centreplate wasn't down when I tried to stand on it to pull the boat back upright, it then took me a few moments to lower it because first I had to untangle the anchor warp from the centreplate uphaul, the two having become intertwined. The boat then righted quite easily and I tacked back against the wind with the water gurgling reassuringly out through the self-bailers; I was determined not to be defeated.

Eventually though, the jib became wrapped around the forestay and I capsized again trying to unwind it. At this point I felt I was doing everything wrong and it was time to come in so I limped back to the slip still half full of water where by now a small group of spectators had gathered to watch me, including the lifeguard and two old sea-dogs who'd obviously been passing comment. Later, the lifeguard told me that the old sea-dogs were "impressed" that I'd got back without assistance. But really I don't suppose I impressed anyone much. I clearly have much to learn.

 

7th September 1998

I took Adam out in the boat on Saturday. There was almost no breeze: we seemed to spend long periods just playing with the sails trying to detect what little air movement there was. Adam had a go at the helm which quite thrilled him, and he even tacked. He was pretty good at holding a course when I told him to steer towards particular landmarks.

The dissipated remnants of hurricane Danielle have been lurking off the coast of Ireland these last few days and forecast to be moving across the British Isles; on Sunday the wind got up and there were gales forecast in the Irish Sea and I chickened out of going out on my own although several boats did sail on the high tide.

 

14th September 1998

Sunday was too windy for sailing. I'm going to have to experiment with techniques for reefing the sails, or sailing on the jib only.

 

18th September 1998

I saw a centre page pull-out guide in one of the yachting magazines this week entitled, "Your guide to crossing the Atlantic" - I dream.

 

9th October 1998

It's been cool and windy here but with a lot of bright sunshine interrupted by occasional showers. The leaves are starting to thin on the trees and most of the apples are in, except the late ripening ones. I was hoping there might have been a chance to take the boat out, but the weather really wasn't suitable. Most of the moored sailing boats are coming in onto dry land for the winter now.

I did get some useful clearing done in the garden and managed to build up our supply of fire-wood. Richard was following me behind the wheelbarrow and he managed to tumble into the pond!

It is simply beautiful being out in the garden. There is something very special about this time of year: the colours, the earthy smells and the sound of the wind in the trees.

 

20th October 1998

Autumn has set in a big way: chilly, grey and wet, and particularly dismal now that the nights are drawing in. Definitely time for the wood fire in doors. It was beautiful though in the garden on Sunday: I got a lot of clearing done and generated much material for bonfire night; also, I came across a hedgehog - not so rare in our garden but unusual in broad daylight and nice to see. Adam insisted I tell stories to him about hedgehogs for the rest of the day.

 

3rd November 1998

At 11 p.m. there was a 10 metre tide bursting on the sea wall with a strong northwesterly wind behind it and a full moon. I never saw such a high tide here. The sea was all over the road. I felt a strange, pleasant, almost terrified excitement because there is one recurring nightmare that I have occasionally had in adult life which involves standing on a foreshore and seeing the monster of all waves rising up and bearing towards me and the growing realisation that I won't escape it in time.

Our bonfire party is tomorrow. As usual, a huge pile of wood has appeared as though by magic in the night, the local contractors see it as an opportunity for free rubbish disposal and it will take four of us half the day to built it into burnable shape tomorrow, but this is all part of the fun. Adam is looking forward to it and so am I.

 

2nd December 1998

We like too much where we live: our wonderful garden, horses over the fence, lying in bed listening to the waves on a summers night, the crashing surf of a winter storm, opening the door to the tangy smell of sea air in the morning, sunrise in a crispy dawn sparkling on frost-covered sand, and the pink rays of setting sun over the water glowing off the distant Welsh hills. It's a clear, frosty night with a full moon. There's a thin, misty vapour over the water as the tide silently slides past the sea wall and the oyster catchers make their eerie call - I love it!

 

***

 

26th April 1999

Out sailing again - first launch this year. Saturday was a beautiful day and I took Adam out on the high tide in the evening while the sun was lowering in the west. It was neap and there was virtually no wind - very still, we moved like a whisper. It was so still that we went aground (neap tides don't leave much room to manoeuvre between sand banks) and didn't even notice that we were stuck for about a minute! It was good to be on the water again.

 

28th April 1999

The sun is a great red orb above the horizon. The boat is all set for launching at the next available opportunity - this weekend. It is a long weekend with the May Day holiday and there are high spring tides around midday - perfect!

 

14th May 1999

Sailing has been wonderful! Especially yesterday, when conditions were perfect and I spent three hours exploring some of the far reaches of the sand-banks several miles up and down the coast. I'm looking for the best route across the shallows that will allow me to circumnavigate the islands in the mouth of the Dee estuary on a single high tide. The timing is important in order to avoid being left high an dry.

 

18th May 1999

Sailing is good exercise: strong on the back and arms hauling the trailer along the road to and from the slipway, and then on the tummy muscles when leaning out to balance the boat when it's heeling over.

 

I had an embarrassing little incident two weeks ago in front of the lifeboat. It was a perfect day for sailing, sunny with a gentle breeze. I'd been out for about an hour and was starting to think about coming in for some lunch when I saw the Hoylake lifeboat coming past. This is a big, powerful, offshore boat with an experienced, sea-going crew. It pulled up close to our slipway, and the crew having passed some lines ashore set about some rescue exercises. Meanwhile, I thought I'd better make a good impression. I gave them a wide berth and tacked cleanly round to make my approach to the slipway in such a way as to avoid any risk of entanglement with their lines. Gliding in smoothly, I reached aft to raise the rudder to stop it grounding, but instead managed to pull the tiller off the rudder stock: the boat slewed round out of all control and, before I could do anything about it, heeled over wildly and capsized, right in front of the life-boat! What's more, a crewman was recording the whole incident on video! I righted the boat without assistance and then sailed out again to allow the self-bailers to empty the boat of water to avoid the embarrassment of having to do so ashore. Afterwards, our local lifeguard, who was also there on duty, remarked that I couldn't have chosen a better moment: the lifeboat only comes down here about once a year!

 

We've finally booked our holiday cottage for this summer: a house on the shores of Loch Torridon, way up in the north west of Scotland. I'm really looking forward to it. It is in one of the most beautiful parts of Scotland and a superb area for mountaineering. Everything is literally on the doorstep. There is access to the loch to launch the boat and the cottage lies at the very foot of one of the most spectacular mountains in Scotland, Liathach, the crest of which, soaring to 3,456ft directly above the sea, is considered to be one of the four classic ridge routes in the country. Of course, scope for serious mountaineering will be limited, but at least we will be four adults to share child minding. Unfortunately, the cottage was only available for one week and not two, but we plan to take the tent and tour for a few days after. I'm already really excited.

 

10th June 1999

Sailing, it is completely absorbing and I love it! This was my diary entry last weekend:

Onshore breeze, about force 3, which seems plenty strong enough for me single handed. The question arises how to launch at a right angle to the breeze with the sails up; hoisting the sails once afloat would be the better solution but with no means of holding the bow this could be awkward. I wheel the boat on the trolley half into the water then swing the trolley to head the boat into the wind, hoist the sails, rig the rudder, then manoeuvre the trolley so as to allow the boat to float, holding the bow. I'm glad Alix then turns up to retrieve the trolley. Which direction to cast off? Try to avoid the embarrassing and awkward situation of being blown back onto the sea wall before making way, but to make good way, must lower the plate and sheet-in immediately but can't lower the plate until in deeper water. Conundrum. Oh well, try it. Here goes. Shove, hop in and grab tiller. Impetus of shove already gone, drifting back on shore into small party launching rowing boat; sheet-in sheet-in: yes! now 45 degrees to wind and making way, miraculously avoid sea wall. Rudder down, plate down - no, not enough depth for plate, grounding on sand bank; half raise plate, can't tack, bear round with wind, avoid moored boats, must gybe - tricky in confined space, risk of capsize. Steady gybe by holding vang as boom swings across. Success! Now on course with clear water ahead.

It takes a few minutes of lively sailing to convince myself that I am really in control. The swell is slight but riding the waves is exciting as every other crest bursts on the bow, shooting spray up my bum leaning out over the windward gunwale. Shortly, the rhythmic plunge and rise through the waves works a very soothing effect, my senses become fully attuned to my immediate surroundings and all else seems a world away.

 

Hoylake Sailing Club Regatta, 15th June 1999

I actually took part in a race this weekend. The local sailing club held its annual regatta. While I was launching on Friday evening one of the officers of the club introduced himself and invited me to take part. It's quite an event locally, with a lot of visiting boats from the region and open to non-members.

So there I was on the water on Sunday morning with only the vaguest notion of what was expected. I was confused by the order of buoys and posts that marked out the course, which ones to pass on which side and in which order. Then there was the gun. There were meant to be six minute and three minute warning shots but I'm sure there was an extra one, and on which side of the line was I supposed to be? At the last moment but too late it suddenly became clear and the start gun found me on the wrong side of the line going the wrong way! The other boats were racing towards the first buoy whilst I having recrossed the line lagged hopelessly in their wake. For a while I was able to follow them, but as the wind got up and the sea became grey and choppy the field spread out and even some of the more experienced boats appeared to become confused and eventually I had to admit that I really didn't know where I was supposed to be heading! Oh well, I'll know what to expect another time.

I appreciated the opportunity to make contact with the sailing club. They seem to be a friendly and pleasantly informal lot and I may consider joining, partly for access to their rather nice clubhouse with bar overlooking the sea, but partly also because it represents a chance to get to know people whose company I might enjoy and who share an enthusiasm for sailing. It is not a sporty, highly competitive dinghy racing club, although they do organise racing on some Sundays. I have the impression that the competitive aspects are not taken too seriously. It is more a group of people who enjoy sailing in all its forms, which suits me. The attractive clubhouse is an added bonus.

It was not a competitive streak that induced me to participate in the race on Sunday, but an exploratory streak to see how I might enjoy it, and a sense of curiosity to see how my sailing matched up to others. I realised that racing is a good way to hone one's skills because I did a lot more manoeuvring and trying to maximise efficiency than when out on my own. I can see how racing could be enjoyable because it involves optimizing your performance, which can be thrilling and satisfying (and it would be nice to win sometimes too) but I can't yet see myself wanting to race regularly. Like skiing, I see sailing as a means of exploration rather than a competitive sport.

 

Tuesday 6th July 1999

We were sailing on Sunday, all of us together for a change. Rick was very excited before he got in, then once underway he kept saying, "Tip over!" and looking worried, but he got used to it for before long he was scrambling to the stern to grab the tiller saying, "Have it, Ricky do it!" Meanwhile Adam was intent that I tell him a story about some limpets who make friends with some ammonites. I am learning that taking the kids out demands additional skills to normal sailing competence.

We're soon away to Scotland for a fortnight. I actually bought myself a fishing rod and some tackle just in case the wind drops while out on the loch, as if I won't have enough to occupy myself with a boat and kids and magnificent nearby mountains. It telescopes down to 18 inches so it won't take up much space. I thought it might be fun for the kids too (good excuse, eh? Of course I'm just a big one.) I have fished exactly twice in my life and caught one trout about four inches long, so the family probably shouldn't rely on me for food.

 

Torridon and Kishorn, July 1999

 

[Monday 2nd August 1999, back home.] It is hard to be back after such a lovely break. Tragic actually. I suddenly see all the things that are wrong with my life here and what an effort it is to try to force myself to put up with them. Especially I see how drab, ugly and over-crowded are the areas where I live and work, even our little patch on the coast holds no magic compared with the northwest of Scotland.

While we were away it was wonderful to be able to spend so much time continually with Richard and Adam and coming back I realize how unnatural it is for a parent to see so little of his children as I normally do here. I have no illusions that we have a right to a perfect life - there is no reason why working for a living should be easy - but some things need to change.

The northwest of Scotland would certainly have limitations as a place to live, the principal of which would be an acceptable means to make a living, followed by the distance to secondary schooling for the boys. Also, family visits would be much less frequent, the midges bite terribly and the weather would not be as reliably good as we had it at least in the second week. But as for the rest of it - city life - I don't need it.

 

We spent the first week on the shores of Loch Torridon nestling at the foot of two of the principal mountains of the area. Torridon is rugged country - one of the last places in Britain to have glaciers as late as 9,000 BC - but like the whole west highland seaboard, sublimely beautiful. Other fjord-scape coastlines in the world are certainly more splendid, but Scotland has a special charm that appeals to me personally.

The peaks of Torridon rise straight out of the sea to over three thousand feet and are composed of thousand Myr old sandstone, which in the larger corries takes the form of sheer, dark grey precipices of giant masonry blocks, and on the tops, precariously placed boulders like part-melted stacks of huge dinner plates. Many of the peaks are capped with silver-grey quarzite which when wet glints and sparkles in the sun. The whole is founded on much older bed-rock (up to half the age of the earth) which shows itself in places as contorted swirls of intermingled shades of pink, orange and fiery red streaked with white. The region has remnants of the original Caledonian pine forest still undisturbed after eight thousand years. But the principal charms are the play of cloud and light on the hills and sea, and the unhurried style of life, where people still leave their house doors unlocked when they go out.

We had a fair bit of drizzle and overcast days in the first week, during the course of which ours was the only boat we saw afloat in the whole of Upper Loch Torridon. In fact, one afternoon, Martin and I were sitting in the boat in the middle of the loch, with the clouds low on the hills and the rain dribbling down the sails, awaiting any movement of air that might get us back to shore before tea, and I did start to wonder what it might take before I started to question my enjoyment!

Another day Martin and I thought we'd make the most of any time when the breeze died by trying my new fishing rod and three hundred piece fishing kit. Out on the water, the sails lolling impotenty, I gave Martin charge of the helm, should any light air arise to stir us, while I sorted hooks and fiddled, trying to remember how to tie them to the line. All of a sudden, there were ripples on the water, the sails filled, the boat heeled wildly and we were creating a creaming bow wave, covering the distance across the loch in a couple of minutes that it had taken us a whole afternoon the previous day, while I scrabbled to prevent fish hooks from littering the floor around our bare feet and at the same time tried to give instruction to Martin who'd never helmed a dinghy!

 

Come the weekend, the clouds evaporated and there followed six days of glorious hot weather when we were out everyday in T-shirts and shorts, even on the water and up at 3,000ft late into the evening - very unScottish! We found accommodation slightly farther south, with magnificent views from our living room window up into the majestic corries of Applecross and out to Skye, in a secluded bungalow just outside the small village of Achintraid on the shore of Loch Kishorn. Alix, Adam, Rick and I spent a couple of days of idyllic sailing when we were out for the whole day with picnic and cans of beer, mooring on uninhabited islands and remote beaches for long lunches, lounging in the sun, exploring the rock-pools for crabs and sea-anemones and swimming nude (there simply was no need for swimming costumes because no one was there!), although not for many minutes because the water was chilly. I love to abandon the trappings of civilization as much as possible on holiday - radio and television, swimming trunks, combing my hair, etc. I go happily for days washing and bathing only in salt-water with my hair gone wild, I like the feeling of it.

The Highlands can be extremely bleak and dreary ("driech" in the Scotch dialect) but only in some places and in certain weather. The atmosphere is often fresh and invigorating or imbued with a remarkable softness. Part of the beauty is this softness and the wonderful cloud-scapes. During our hot weather spell, although I wouldn't have wanted to change it, some of the distinctive charm was lost: it reminded me more of the Alps or the Sierra Nevada than Scotland.

I think we've all felt slightly down since returning, we had such a gorgeous few days. Sailing off the sea front here in Liverpool Bay has (at least temporarily) lost its appeal.

 

***

 

Sunday 19th March 2000

First launch of the year. It was wonderful to be on the water again! It is something very special to me. On the water, I am happy: life is as it should be and I don't want for anything. I was out at 8:30 a.m. for nearly three hours, and there was no one else.

 

28th March 2000

Summer time

We switched to British Summer Time this weekend and today the temperature has dropped to 3°C - it feels like January again! I did get out in the boat though, both on Saturday and Sunday. Good thing is, the kids have not adapted to the time change yet, so we get to sleep slightly later, but I wonder how long it'll take for them to catch on.

 

Sunday 2nd April 2000

Hoylake Sailing Club first dinghy race of the season.

It rained the whole weekend: a pretty much continuous light sea-drizzle which hardly let up even once. Alix took advantage of child-minding by parents and agreed to join me in the boat on Sunday (rare that we are ever in the boat together). At 9 a.m. there was a sea mist and hardly a breath of wind, and we really wondered whether we were silly, sitting bailing the rain out from where it collected from dribbling down the sails as fast as it came in, and feeling the wetness slowly creeping in down our necks. At the starter's gun, the few other boats all managed magically to coax some movement out of the still air, while it took a good two minutes before we managed first to point in the right direction then get underway, bringing up the rear. It was all quite amusing really, and in the end we were glad we'd made the effort to go out. Afterwards, all of us including the boys went into the clubhouse for a drink, then returned home for proper Sunday lunch of roast lamb, a good bottle of Rioja and an afternoon cozily by the living room fire. A near perfect Sunday.

 

Hoylake Sailing Club Regatta, Saturday 3rd and Sunday 4th June 2000

There were around 70 boats racing offshore, so quite a spectacle. I didn't race. I'm not convinced that racing is where my interest lies, I simply like to be out on the water and go where the whim takes me rather than jostle with other craft around buoys. The lifeguard introduced me to Billy who offered to take me out in Magnetic, his Cygnet cruising yacht. We walked out over the sand to his mooring in the outer channel. The tide comes up here with a rush; it is impressive like a fast flowing river, one minute you're lying aground and the next you're bobbing around floating free. It was interesting for a change and novel to be able to brew tea en route in the cabin, but it struck me how sluggish and how restricted in manoeuvring over the sand banks is a boat like Magnetic compared to my dinghy, so on Sunday I was happy to be back under my own sail.

Alix took the boys to the Millennium Dome in Greenwich at the weekend. It has been billed as a festival of Britain to match the great ones of the past but has had bad press and accusations of waste of public money. Alix thought it was accurate in presenting an impression of the state of Britain today in that it was confused and didn't seem to know what it was trying to be, and it had an abundance of what this country is famous for abroad: its queues.

 

12th June 2000

I'm considering an over-night sailing and camping expedition to Hilbre. The tides were right this weekend but the winds were too fierce for me, force 4 - 5 the whole time, and I didn't get out in the boat at all (I feel deprived). Beautiful sunny weather for the garden though; however, I had to use some of it on afternoon naps as, first Adam, then Richard, were sick during the night and left us very short of sleep.

 

16th June 2000

I went out on Tuesday evening just after I got home and it was gorgeous in the late light, sailing into the sunset. There was a significant breeze and I was even surfing in on some waves. This weekend the weather looks set lovely and, wind permitting, tomorrow we will all go out and perhaps anchor somewhere for a picnic.

 

19th June 2000

We are enjoying a heat wave; that is, I am enjoying it, but many are not. I wouldn't be surprised if some of the inner cities reached 90°F this weekend. We have a south wind, but plenty of breeze on the coast to be bearable. We all sailed on Sunday, cruising out to the far edge of the sandbank (about a mile offshore) where we beached, ate picnic lunch and had a swim; it is good to have a break to provide variety for Adam and Richard, otherwise they get restless just having to sit. After we returned, we all went to the beach again (with swimming costumes this time) to cool off while the tide was still up to swim in. Adam and Richard loved it. Later Alix and I were eating dinner on the lawn until 10 p.m. I love weekends like this and count it a great privilege to have the wonderful sea on the doorstep. Being back at work is definitely dull by comparison, but it is what I am paid for.

 

Monday 26th June 2000

We are in the 70s today, warmer than at the weekend with its brisk northwesterly breeze - too windy for sailing, unfortunately, which we’d been looking forward to as Alix’ sister and family were here to visit. We were a bit downcast from sadness that our visitors had to leave. The kids were so excited the whole time to have each other as playmates and they were all devastated when they had to part. They all shared the same bedroom and around seven each morning we heard the "gentle" patter of feet as they trooped down stairs, trying to be quiet but not quite succeeding, to organize their own breakfast before any of the adults appeared. On Sunday morning they even let themselves out of the house to play in the garden and in the lane before we got up - two of them still half in their night-clothes! And Adam was revelling in showing them around his home territory.

 

Sunday 30th July 2000

It's been a good weekend for sailing. Thursday evening was looking gorgeous and Adam decided to come with me (partly I suspect as a means of delaying his bed-time); unfortunately shortly after we launched some grey clouds coalesced above and released persistent rain for an hour. Friday really was gorgeous though: what little rain there was had cleared during the course of the day leaving a few fantastic cloud shapes and sparkling sunshine. I was the only boat out and I sailed until just after sunset in only my shorts and T-shirt. The breeze was very light and at one point I let myself hang backwards over the side with my hair almost dabbling in the water becoming almost dizzy from the huge upside down vista of red orb sun and pink tinted clouds gliding passed at water's-eye view. It was very pleasurable.

This morning Richard and I went out together. First time I've taken Richard alone. He was very good (in doing what he was told when told) and seemed really to enjoy and remain interested for the whole of nearly two hours that we were out (in perfect summer weather). He caused some amusement upon landing when he insisted in helping me by pushing the boat from behind with all his might up the slipway!

 

Saturday 5th August 2000

We are leaving for the Isle of Bute next Saturday and I feel there is a lot to rush to do before we go. Preparations for holidays these days are no longer a simple matter of organizing a rucksack on my back, boots on my feet and money in my pocket. There's the boat trailer to load - do the lights work? - need a new registration number plate to match the new car, grease the wheel bearings, where are all the straps and cords I used last year? Adam, Rick, where have you hidden xyz since I last saw you playing with it? Where are all the tent pegs? Does the camping stove work? etc. Alix tends to organise food and kids' clothes, which is a relief. All I've done is had a case of wine sent to the friends we're staying with for the first week (definitely essential provisions). I try to tell myself that this is a holiday and we're supposed to enjoy it, but I know I've worn myself down because I've succumbed to respiratory infection and my back is playing up (doesn't help to have to lift the boat trailer). None of this stopped us all going out sailing today though. We pottered along the shore to Leasowe beach and landed for the kids to build sand castles for half an hour (they like the break), then headed home before the tide went out. We saw lots of birds and a couple of very brightly coloured jelly fish.

 

Wednesday 9th August 2000

The boat and equipment is now loaded for the road and ready to go as soon as we can get out on Saturday morning. I avoid the check-list syndrome as much as possible and usually get by with a single pencilled sheet of paper scribbled a week in advance; I do what I consider necessary to avoid wasting time when we are actually away. High tide is about an hour before sunset and there is light air movement: if I feel I've worked well by the end of the day I'd be tempted to go out, although I'm not sure I want to face all the unloading and reloading again!

 

Isle of Bute and Argyll, August 2000

 

Our holiday was really wonderful. August Scottish weather again proved remarkably fine. There were only two days in nearly a fortnight when rain deterred us from doing what we had planned, and we had several magnificent days. Of our eleven days spent actually in Scotland, we sailed on six of them.

We enjoyed our time on the Isle of Bute spent with a long-standing friend David in his parental house. His parents are now dead but his sister lives there still. David lives in Switzerland, but returns every couple of years to supervise (and pay for) necessary structural upkeep as it is a large, rambling Victorian property. He generally invites a house-full of friends for the duration, which makes for a lively week - ideal for the kids, because there are other kids to play with, and for the adults too, who have the stimulus of each other's company.

The island is relatively close to Glasgow but, on its western shore particularly, it is quiet and has much of the character of more remote Hebridean islands. We had some fine sailing off the beaches in magnificent scenery and crystal-clear water. I also took some of the other guests out - I enjoy sharing their pleasure in it.

 

For the second week we moved farther westward and found a delightful camp spot on the shore of Loch Sween. It was a perfect, level, grassy platform a few yards above the shore, facing the sunsets. We had words with the local farmer who let us stay there and gave us access to a water tap, and who also offered to launch our boat from their adjacent field, enabling us to keep it moored right below the tent. We actually used two tents on this trip, letting Adam and Richard share the small backpacking tent together, which they enjoyed, thus leaving us some peace and privacy in the larger dome tent. It was very close to idyllic: we were completely secluded, I was able to read The Hobbit to Adam snuggled up to the campfire for his bedtime story, and we were very little harassed by midges, which is unusual for the Scottish west coast in August.

 

Upon arrival, it had been a hectic day travelling in the car, the kids had been fractious and were finally in bed, it was a beautifully placid evening with perhaps half an hour left of sun before sinking behind the hills, and I took the boat out. Ghosting along the middle of the loch with barely a whisper, making myself comfortable with my head resting on the thwart staring backwards up at the sky, I was so absorbed that I turned with a start when I suddenly realized I'd nearly bumped into an island full of seals! About a dozen of them on a craggy rock, about twenty yards long and four wide, breaking the surface of the water by about three feet. The rock was actually marked on the 1:50,000 map as a small blip but I hadn'd noticed it. It lay only about 500yd offshore from where we were camped, so we all returned there together in the morning for a closer look. There were several pups among them looking very cute.

 

Our nearest shop was 4 miles away by boat up the loch at Tayvallich on the opposite shore, but a 20 mile trip around by car, so we experienced the novelty of a family grocery shopping expedition by sail, making a fine day trip, with a good sea-food pub dinner thrown in.

 

Kilmartin Glen, not far away, is a centre for some of the earliest known settlements in Scotland, so on non-sailing days there were five thousand year old stone circles, burial sites, iron age fortresses, and also near by, tiny ruined churches dating back to the early Roman missionaries of the 6thC AD, some with original 12thC stone carvings still intact, as well as Castle Sween to explore. But I must say that I loved the sailing most: exploring the little islands, anchorages and unfamiliar harbour entrances. It is completely absorbing, demanding a wonderful combination of attention to physical coordination and judgment. That is what I find immensely satisfying about mountaineering too: this combination of physical challenges together with the continual need for reassessment of the situation in the light of one's knowledge of one's own abilities and of the objective dangers.

 

Tuesday 29th August 2000

I picked up a book from the library recently about how to build a wood and canvas kayak. I am wondering whether I could sustain the motivation and determination for such a project. This came after casually browsing for some information on glass fibre boat repairs: the boat could benefit from a little attention this year. I would like to paint her name on the hull. The word Esmerelda is just discernible written large on the side but so faded as to be almost invisible except in certain light. I'm still in two minds as to whether to call her this or Come What May, which refers to a remark made in conjuction with a decision to sail one day. To me, Esmerelda is the name of an elderly lady, and as time goes by I realize that she deserves the according level of respect.

 

Brother Martin and family came over the bank holiday and we sailed. Then today Adam and I happened to get the perfect combination of clear sunshine, fine breeze and high spring tide that allowed us to cross the sandbank and circumnavigate Hilbre, a feat that has been my aim since the beginning of the season, but from which I had been deterred either by too much or too little wind or insufficient tide. We spotted a dozen seals on the way, a pair of which followed us at close quarters for up to half a mile (Adam was thrilled).

 

Wednesday 13th September 2000

This day I was at home working, ostensibly, but there was mild, balmy sunshine and sufficient breeze to tempt me out onto the tide at midday. It was gorgeous and I made good way into the gentle south westerly air, ploshing pleasantly through the wavelets. Out of the distance, suggesting itself as a destination, appeared the HE2 East cardinal buoy that marks the east side of the West Hoyle Bank, beckoning me like a siren to go farther offshore than I have ever been, two and half miles out from the mouth of the Dee estuary. I decided I ought to be able to round it and return with the breeze behind me in time to cross the bank before the tide receded.

It was eerie being alone and so far out, with the buoy and its apparently resident population of perched seagulls on its large scaffold superstructure behung with lights, bells and other navigational symbols; the boat seemed small and fragile compared to its robust iron bulk.

On the way back the breeze became lighter. A seal investigated me closely, surfacing and blowing noisily just off the stern and rolling tummy-up as if to get a better look. Shortly afterwards the wind died.

I tried with the oars to get as far as possible, and then towed and hauled on the painter as the ebbing tide left me with barely enough depth to cover my ankles, but eventually had to deploy the anchors, abandon my vessel and walk home, some fifteen minutes back to Hoylake promenade.

Next high tide was not until midnight so I would have to walk out and wait for the flood two hours before, then row back in the dark. My main concern was to locate the boat on the vast expanse of sand in darkness; I had taken a compass bearing and, fortunately, noticed that the iron railings on the promenade caused the needle to deviate by about 30°!

Come What May / Esmerelda finally appeared as a ghostly white shadow in the torch beam. Waiting on board for the tide was a quietly serene experience, reclining quite comfortably in my 8mm wet suit in a slight drizzle. It was rather beautiful: wet but warm in the dark, with the night full of the sounds of oyster catchers and imagining the gurgling trickle of advancing water becoming louder by the minute, and a hint of moonlight behind the clouds.

 

20th September 2000

The season is distinctly about to slide into autumn. The apples have reached full ripeness and are starting to drop, and there are widespread hints of leaves starting to turn colour. The sunshine is warm during the day, but last night the temperature dropped nearly to 50°F for the first time probably in months. With the shorter days, the number of high tides potentially suitable for sailing becomes restricted; that combined with the higher probability of poor weather means sailing will be sporadic (I've been out only twice this month). But I love this season.

 

22nd November 2000

I'm enthralled with a book at the moment. It is a description of three seasons spent sailing up the eastern seaboard of North America, from Florida to the St. Lawrence, in a 16ft Wayfarer dinghy by Frank Dye. It is about exploration by sail stripped to its bare essentials, the idea of which appeals to me enormously, and is exactly the sort of sailing I'd love to do on this coast, although without some of the author's more hairy adventures. Among other things, he has opened my eyes to what an enormous and varied coast North America has - like distances on the land, the size of the coastline is difficult to conceive compared to this country.

Professor X (Charles Francis Xavier) is a character appearing in American comic books published by Marvel Comics. Created by writer Stan Lee and artist/co-writer Jack Kirby, the character first appeared in The X-Men #1 (September 1963). The character is depicted as the founder and occasional leader of the X-Men.

 

Xavier is a member of a subspecies of humans known as mutants, who are born with superhuman abilities. He is an exceptionally powerful telepath, who can read and control the minds of others. To both shelter and train mutants from around the world, he runs a private school in the X-Mansion in Salem Center, located in Westchester County, New York.Xavier also strives to serve a greater good by promoting peaceful coexistence and equality between humans and mutants in a world where zealous anti-mutant sentiment is widespread.

 

Throughout much of the character's history in comics, Xavier is a paraplegic using a standard or modified wheelchair. One of the world's most powerful mutant telepaths, Xavier is a scientific genius and a leading authority in genetics. He has devised Cerebro and other equipment to enhance psionic powers and detect and track people with the mutant gene.

 

Xavier's pacifist and assimilationist ideology and actions have often been contrasted with that of Magneto, a mutant villain with whom Xavier has a complicated relationship.

 

He also appears in almost all of the X-Men animated series and in many video games, although usually as a non-playable character. Patrick Stewart plays him in the 2000s X-Men film series, as well as providing his voice in some of the X-Men video games (including some not connected to the film series).

 

According to BusinessWeek, Charles Xavier is listed as one of the top ten most intelligent fictional characters in American comics.

 

Publication History

 

Creation and influences

 

Stan Lee has stated that the physical inspiration of Professor Xavier was from Academy Award-winning actor Yul Brynner.

 

Writer Scott Lobdell established Xavier's middle name to be "Francis" in Uncanny X-Men #328 (January 1996).

 

Character

 

Xavier's goals are to promote the peaceful affirmation of mutant rights, to mediate the co-existence of mutants and humans, to protect mutants from violent humans, and to protect society from antagonistic mutants, including his old friend, Magneto.

 

To achieve these aims, he founded Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters (later named the Xavier Institute) to teach mutants to explore and control their powers. Its first group of students was the original X-Men (Cyclops, Iceman, Marvel Girl, Angel, and Beast).

 

Xavier's students consider him a visionary and often refer to their mission as "Xavier's dream". He is highly regarded by others in the Marvel Universe, respected by various governments, and trusted by several other superhero teams, including the Avengers and the Fantastic Four.

 

However, he also has a manipulative streak which has resulted in several significant fallings-out with allies and students.

 

He often acts as a public advocate for mutant rights and is the authority most of the Marvel superhero community turns to for advice on mutants. Despite this, his status as a mutant himself and originator of the X-Men only became public during the 2001 story "E Is for Extinction".

 

In a number of comics, Xavier is shown to have a dark side, a part of himself that he struggles to suppress. Perhaps the most notable appearance of this character element is in the Onslaught storyline, in which the crossover event's antagonist is a physical manifestation of that dark side.

 

Also, Onslaught is created in the most violent act Xavier claims to have done: erasing the mind of Magneto.

 

In X-Men #106 (August 1977), the new X-Men fight images of the original team, which have been created by what Xavier says is his "evil self ... who would use his powers for personal gain and conquest", which he says he is normally able to keep in check.

 

In the 1984 four-part series titled The X-Men and the Micronauts, Xavier's dark desires manifest themselves as the Entity and threaten to destroy the Micronauts' universe.

 

In other instances, Xavier is shown to be secretive and manipulative.

 

During the Onslaught storyline, the X-Men find Xavier's files, the "Xavier Protocols", which detail how to kill many of the characters, including Xavier himself, should the need ever arise, such as if they went rogue.

 

Astonishing X-Men vol. 3, #12 (August 2005) reveals that when Xavier realizes that the Danger Room has become sentient, he keeps it trapped and experiments on it for years, an act that Cyclops calls "the oppression of a new life" and equates to humanity's treatment of mutants (however, X-Men Legacy #220 - 224 reveals that Xavier did not intend for the Danger Room to become sentient: it was an accident, and Xavier sought a way to free Danger, but was unable to find a way to accomplish this without deleting her sentience as well).

 

Fictional character biography

 

Charles Francis Xavier was born in New York City to the wealthy Dr. Brian Xavier, a well-respected nuclear scientist, and Sharon Xavier.

 

The family lives in a very grand mansion estate in Westchester County because of the riches his father's nuclear research has brought them.

 

He later grows up to attend Pembroke College at the University of Oxford, where he earns a Professorship in Genetics and other science fields, and goes on to live first in Oxford and then London for a number of years.

 

Crucially, as he enters late adolescence, Xavier inherits the mansion-house he was raised in, enabling him not only to continue to live in it, but also to turn it in to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, which he begins together with the first of the X-Men.

 

Brian, his father, dies in an accident when Xavier is still very young, and Brian's science partner Kurt Marko comforts and then marries the grieving Sharon. When Xavier's telepathic mutant powers emerge, he discovers Marko cares only about his mother's money.

 

After the wedding, Kurt moves in with the Xaviers, bringing with him his son Cain. Kurt quickly grows neglectful of Sharon, driving her to alcoholism, and abuses both Charles and Cain.

 

Cain takes out his frustrations and insecurities on his stepbrother. Charles uses his telepathic powers to read Cain's mind and explore the extent of his psychological damage, which only leads to Cain becoming more aggressive toward him and the young Xavier feeling Cain's pain firsthand.

 

Sharon dies soon after, and a fight erupts between Cain and Charles that causes some of Kurt's lab equipment to explode. Mortally wounded, Kurt drags the two children out before dying, and admits he was partly responsible for Brian's death.

 

With help from his superhuman powers and natural genius, Xavier becomes an excellent student and athlete, though he gives up the latter, believing his powers give him an unfair advantage.

 

Due to his powers, by the time he graduates from high school, Charles loses all of his hair. He graduates with honors at the age of 16 from Bard College.

 

In graduate studies, he receives Ph.D.s in Genetics, Biophysics, Psychology, and Anthropology with a two-year residence at Pembroke College, University of Oxford.

 

He also receives an M.D. in Psychiatry while spending several years in London. He is later appointed adjunct professor at Columbia University.

 

At graduate school, he meets a Scottish girl named Moira Kinross, a fellow genetics student with whom he falls in love. The two agree to get married, but soon, Xavier is drafted into the Korean War.

 

He carves himself a niche as a soldier in search and rescue missions alongside Shadowcat's father, Carmen Pryde, and witnesses Cain's transformation into Juggernaut when he touches a ruby with an inscription on it in an underground temple.

 

During the war, he receives a letter from Moira telling him that she is breaking up with him. He later discovers that Moira married her old boyfriend Joseph MacTaggert, who abuses her.

 

Deeply depressed when Moira broke off their engagement without explanation, Xavier began traveling around the world as an adventurer after leaving the army.

 

In Cairo, he meets a young girl named Ororo Munroe (later known as Storm), who is a pickpocket, and the Shadow King, a powerful mutant who is posing as Egyptian crime lord Amahl Farouk.

 

Xavier defeats the Shadow King, barely escaping with his life. This encounter leads to Xavier's decision to devote his life to protecting humanity from evil mutants and safeguarding innocent mutants from human oppression.

 

Xavier visits his friend Daniel Shomron, who runs a clinic for traumatized Holocaust victims in Haifa, Israel. There, he meets a man going by the name of Magnus (who would later become Magneto), a Holocaust survivor who works as a volunteer in the clinic, and Gabrielle Haller, a woman driven into a catatonic coma by the trauma she experienced.

 

Xavier uses his mental powers to break her out of her catatonia and the two fall in love. Xavier and Magneto become good friends, although neither immediately reveals to the other that he is a mutant.

 

The two hold lengthy debates hypothesizing what will happen if humanity is faced with a new super-powered race of humans. While Xavier is optimistic, Magneto's experiences in the Holocaust lead him to believe that humanity will ultimately oppress the new race of humans.

 

The two friends reveal their powers to each other when they fight Nazi Baron Wolfgang von Strucker and his Hydra agents, who kidnap Gabrielle because she knows the location of their secret cache of gold. Magneto attempts to kill Strucker but Xavier stops him.

 

Realizing that his and Xavier's views on mutant-human relations are incompatible, Magneto leaves with the gold. Charles stays in Israel for some time, but he and Gabrielle separate on good terms, neither knowing that she is pregnant with his son, who grows up to become the mutant Legion.

 

In a strange town near the Himalayas, Xavier encounters an alien calling himself Lucifer, the advance scout for an invasion by his race, and foils his plans. In retaliation, Lucifer drops a huge stone block on Xavier, crippling his legs.

 

After Lucifer leaves, a young woman named Sage hears Xavier's telepathic cries for help and rescues him, bringing him to safety, beginning a long alliance between the two.

 

In a hospital in India, he is brought to an American nurse, Amelia Voght, who looks after him and, as she sees to his recovery, they fall in love. When he is released from the hospital, the two moved into an apartment in Bombay together.

 

Amelia is troubled to find Charles studying mutation, as she is a mutant and unsettled by it, though she calms when he reveals himself to be a mutant as well.

 

They eventually move to the United States, living on Xavier's family estate. But the night Scott Summers moves into Xavier's mansion, Amelia leaves him, believing Charles would have changed his view and that mutants should lie low. Yet he is recruiting them to what she believes is a lost cause. Charles tries to force her to stay with his mental powers, but immediately ashamed by this, lets her go. She later becomes a disciple of Magneto.

 

Over the years, Charles makes a name for himself as geneticist and psychologist, apparently renowned enough that the Greys were referred to him when no other expert could help their catatonic daughter, Jean.

 

Xavier trains her in the use of her telekinesis, while inhibiting her telepathic abilities until she matures. Around this time, he also starts working with fellow mutation expert, Karl Lykos, as well as Moira MacTaggert again, who built a mutant research station on Muir Island.

 

Apparently, Charles had gotten over Moira in his travels to the Greek island of Kirinos. Xavier discusses his candidates for recruitment to his personal strike force, the X-Men, with Moira, including those he passes over, which are Kurt Wagner, Piotr Rasputin, Pietro and Wanda Maximoff, and Ororo Munroe. Xavier also trains Tessa to spy on Sebastian Shaw.

 

Xavier founded Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, which provides a safe haven for mutants and teaches them to master their abilities. In addition, he seeks to foster mutant-human relations by providing his superhero team, the X-Men, as an example of mutants acting in good faith, as he told FBI agent Fred Duncan.

 

With his inherited fortune, he uses his ancestral mansion at 1407 Graymalkin Lane in Salem Center, Westchester County, New York as a base of operations with technologically advanced facilities, including the Danger Room - later, Fantomex mentions that Xavier is a billionaire with a net worth of $3.5 billion.

 

Presenting the image of a stern teacher, Xavier makes his students endure a rigorous training regime.

 

Xavier's first five students are Cyclops, Iceman, Angel, Beast, and Marvel Girl who become the original X-Men. After he completes recruiting the original team of X-Men, he sends them into battle with Magneto.

 

Throughout most of his time with the team, Xavier uses his telepathic powers to keep in constant contact with his students and provides instructions and advice when needed. In addition, he uses a special machine called Cerebro, which enhances his ability to detect mutants and to allow the team to find new students in need of the school.

 

Among the obstacles Xavier faces is his old friend, Magneto, who has grown into an advocate of mutant superiority since their last encounter and who believes the only solution to mutant persecution is domination over humanity.

 

When anthropologist Bolivar Trask resurfaces the "mutant problem", Xavier counters him in a televised debate, however, he appears arrogant and Trask sends his mutant-hunting robot Sentinels to terrorize mutants. The X-Men dispatch them, but Trask sees the error in his ways too late as he is killed by his creations.

 

At one point, Xavier seemingly dies during the X-Men's battle with the sub-human Grotesk, but it is later revealed that Xavier arranged for a reformed former villain named Changeling to impersonate him while he went into hiding to plan a defense against an invasion by the extraterrestrial Z'Nox, imparting a portion of his telepathic abilities to the Changeling to complete the disguise.

 

When the X-Men are captured by the sentient island Krakoa, Xavier assembles a new team to rescue them, including Cyclops' and Havok's long-lost brother, Vulcan, along with Darwin, Petra, and Sway.

 

This new team, composed of students of Dr. Moira MacTaggert, was sent to rescue the original X-Men from Krakoa. However, after rescuing Cyclops, McTaggert's former students were seemingly killed. Upon Cyclops' return, Xavier removed Cyclops' memories of the death of Vulcan and his teammates; and began assembling yet another team of X-Men.

 

Xavier's subsequent rescue team consists of Banshee, Colossus, Sunfire, Nightcrawler, Storm, Wolverine, and Thunderbird. After the mission, the older team of X-Men, except for Cyclops, leave the school, believing they no longer belong there, and Xavier mentors the new X-Men.

 

Xavier forms a psychic bond across galaxies with Princess Lilandra from the Shi'ar Empire. When they finally meet, it is love at first sight. She implores the professor to stop her mad brother, Shi'ar Emperor D'Ken, and he instantly aids her by deploying his X-Men.

 

When Jean Grey returns from the Savage Land to tell him that all the X-Men are dead, he shuts down the school and travels with Lilandra to her kingdom, where she is crowned Empress and he is treated like a child or a trophy husband.

 

Xavier senses the changes taking place in Jean Grey, and returns to Earth to help and resume leadership of the X-Men.

 

Shortly thereafter he battles his pupil after she becomes Dark Phoenix and destroys a populated planet in the Shi'ar Empire. It hurts Xavier to be on the opposite side of Lilandra, but he has no other choice but to challenge the Shi'ar Imperial Guard to a duel over the fate of the Phoenix.

 

Xavier would have lost against the greater power of the Dark Phoenix, but thanks to the help Jean Grey gives him (fighting her Phoenix persona), Xavier emerges victorious; she later commits suicide to prevent herself from endangering more innocent lives.

 

When the X-Men fight members of the extraterrestrial race known as the Brood, Xavier is captured by them, and implanted with a Brood egg, which places Xavier under the Brood's control.

 

During this time, Xavier assembles a team of younger mutants called the New Mutants, secretly intended to be prime hosts for reproduction of the aliens. The X-Men discover this and return to free Xavier, but they are too late to prevent his body from being destroyed with a Brood Queen in its place; however, his soul remains intact.

 

The X-Men and Starjammers subdue this monstrous creature containing Xavier's essence, but the only way to restore him is to clone a new body using tissue samples he donated to the Starjammers and transfer his consciousness into the clone body.

 

This new body possesses functional legs, though the psychosomatic pain Xavier experienced after living so long as a paraplegic takes some time to subside. Subsequently, he even joins the X-Men in the field, but later decides not to continue this practice after realizing that his place is at the school, as the teacher of the New Mutants.

 

After taking a teaching position at Columbia University in Uncanny X-Men #192, Xavier is severely injured and left for dead as the victim of an attack.

 

Callisto and her Morlocks, a group of underground-dwelling mutants, get him to safety. One of the Morlocks partially restores Xavier's health, but Callisto warns Xavier that he is not fully healed and that he must spend more time recuperating and restrain himself from exerting his full strength or powers, or his health might fail again. Xavier hides his injuries from the others and resumes his life.

 

Charles meets with former lover Gabrielle Haller on Muir Isle and discovers that they had a child. The boy, David, has autism and dissociative identity disorder. Furthermore, he has vast psionic powers like his father. After helping him and his team to escape from David's mind, Xavier promises he will always be there for him.

 

A reformed Magneto is arrested and put on trial. Xavier attends the trial to defend his friend. Andrea and Andreas Strucker, the children of presumed dead Baron von Strucker, crash the courtroom to attack Magneto and Xavier. Xavier is seriously injured.

 

Dying, he asks a shocked Magneto to look after the X-Men for him. Lilandra, who has a psychic bond with Xavier, feels that he is in great danger and heads to Earth. There, she and Corsair take Xavier with them so Shi'ar advanced technology can heal him.

 

Xavier leaves Magneto in charge of the school, but some of the X-Men are unwilling to forgive their former enemy. Cyclops loses a duel for the leadership of the X-Men against Storm, then leaves them and joins the other four original X-Men to form a new team called X-Factor.

 

In the meantime, Charles becomes stranded in space with the Starjammers, but he is reunited with his lover Lilandra and relishes his carefree lifestyle.

 

He serves as a member of the Starjammers aboard the starship Starjammer, mobile in the Shi'ar Galaxy. He becomes consort to the Princess-Majestrix Lilandra while in exile, and when she later resumes her throne he takes up residence with her in the Imperial palace on the Shi'ar homeworld. Xavier joins Lilandra in her cause to overthrow her sister Deathbird, taking on the powers of Phoenix temporarily wherein he is named Bald Phoenix by Corsair, but sees that he must return to help the X-Men.

 

Xavier eventually becomes imprisoned by the Skrulls during their attempted invasion of the Shi'ar Empire. Xavier breaks free from imprisonment by Warskrull Prime, and is reunited with the X-Men.

 

A healthy Xavier returns from the Shi'ar Empire and is reunited with both the current and original X-Men teams, and resumes his leadership responsibilities of the united teams. In a battle with his old foe, the Shadow King, in the "Muir Island Saga", Xavier's spine is shattered, returning him to his former paraplegic state, while his son David is seemingly killed. In the following months, Xavier rebuilds the mansion, which previously was rebuilt with Shi'ar technology, and restructures the X-Men into two teams.

 

While holding a mutant rights speech, Xavier is nearly assassinated by Stryfe in the guise of Cable, being infected with a fatal techno-organic virus. For reasons of his own, the villain Apocalypse saves him. As a temporary side-effect, he gains full use of his legs and devotes his precious time to the youngest recruit on his team, Jubilee.

 

With all his students now highly trained adults, Professor Xavier renames his school the Xavier Institute For Higher Learning. Also, he assumes control of a private institution, the Massachusetts Academy, making it a new School for Gifted Youngsters. Another group of young mutants is trained here, Generation X, with Banshee and Emma Frost as headmaster and headmistress, respectively.

 

Professor X is for a time the unknowing host of the evil psionic entity Onslaught, the result of a previous battle with Magneto. In that battle, Magneto uses his powers to rip out the adamantium bonded to Wolverine's skeleton, and a furious Xavier wipes Magneto's mind, leaving him in a coma.

 

From the psychic trauma of Xavier using his powers so violently and the mixing of Magneto's and Xavier's repressed anger, Onslaught is born. Onslaught wreaks havoc, destroying much of Manhattan, until many of Marvel's superheroes—including the Avengers, the Fantastic Four and the Hulk—destroy him.

 

Xavier is left without his telepathy and, overcome with guilt, leaves the X-Men and is incarcerated for his actions.

 

He later returns to the X-Men after Operation: Zero Tolerance, in which he is shocked by the cruel act of being turned over to the mutant-hating Bastion, following a clash with the sentient Cerebro and a team of impostor X-Men.

 

Xavier questions his dream again and Magneto shortly thereafter is confronted by the X-Men. After the battle, the UN concedes Genosha to Magnus, and Wolverine is angered by Xavier stopping him from getting his revenge on Magneto. Charles and Logan are later trapped in a dimension with different laws of physics, wherein they have to coordinate their moves together and, in the process, gain a better understanding of the other's views.

 

Apocalypse kidnaps the fabled "Twelve" special mutants (Xavier included) whose combined energies would grant him omnipotence. After Apocalypse's defeat with the help of Skrull mutants, Xavier goes with the young Skrulls known as Cadre K to train them and free them from their oppressors, and eventually returns to aid in Legacy Virus research.

 

Mystique and her Brotherhood start a deadly assault on Muir Isle by releasing an altered form of the Legacy Virus, all in retaliation against the election campaign of Robert Kelly, a seeming mutant-hater. Mystique blows up Moira MacTaggert's laboratory complex, fatally wounding her. Charles goes to the astral plane to meet with her and retrieve information on the cure to the Legacy Virus, but after gathering the information does not want to leave her alone. If not for Jean and Cable talking him down and pulling him back, the professor would have died with his first love, who states she has no regrets.

 

As Beast cures the Legacy Virus, many infected Genoshan mutants recover overnight, providing Magneto, the current ruler of Genosha, with an army to start the third World War. He demands Earth's governments accept him as their leader, and abducts and crucifies Xavier in Magda Square for all to see. A loyal member of Magneto's Acolytes, Amelia Voght, cannot stand to see her former lover punished in such a manner and sets him free. Jean Grey and rather untrained newcomers, as most of the team are elsewhere, distract Magneto and Wolverine guts him. Xavier is too late to intervene.

 

Xavier's evil twin Cassandra Nova, whom Xavier attempted to kill while they were both in their mother's womb, orders a group of rogue Sentinels to destroy the independent mutant nation of Genosha.

 

Magneto, who is Genosha's leader, appears to die along with the vast majority of the nation's inhabitants. Nova then takes over Xavier's body. Posing as Xavier, she reveals his mutation to the world, something he needed to do but did not want to sully his reputation over, before going into space and crippling the Shi'ar Empire. The X-Men restore Xavier, but Lilandra, believing that too much disaster has come from the Shi'ar's involvement with the X-Men, annuls her marriage to Xavier.

 

Lilandra previously had gone insane and tried to assassinate Charles on a trip to Mumbai. During this period, a mutant named Xorn joins the X-Men. Xorn uses his healing power to restore Xavier's use of his legs.

 

When the X-Men receive a distress call from a Scottish island, they are surprised to find Juggernaut with nowhere to go, as the island was destroyed by his further-mutated partner in crime, Black Tom Cassidy, who died.

 

Xavier reaches out to his stepbrother and offers him a place in his mansion, with Cain reluctantly accepting. The Juggernaut redeems himself over the next few weeks and joins the X-Men. Xavier finds out that Cain's father preferred him to his own flesh and blood and that they both thought they deserved the abuse they incurred by Kurt; Cain believed this because his father loved someone else's child more than him, and Charles felt guilty about getting in the way. That it is why neither of them stopped Kurt Marko with their powers.

 

Now outed as a mutant, Xavier makes speeches to the public about mutant tolerance. He also founds the X-Corporation, or X-Corp (not to be confused with the X-Corps), with offices all over the world. The purpose of the X-Corp is to watch over mutant rights and help mutants in need.

 

As a result of being out, the school no longer hides the fact that it is a school for mutants and it opens its doors for more mutant (and even human) students to come in.

 

A student named Quentin Quire and members of his gang start a riot at the Xavier Institute during an open house at the school. As a result, Quire and two other students are killed. Uncertain about his dream's validity, Xavier announces that he will step down as headmaster and be succeeded by Jean Grey.

 

Afterwards, Xorn reveals himself to be Magneto, having apparently not died in the Sentinel raid on Genosha. Magneto undoes the restoration of Xavier's ability to walk, kidnaps him, and destroys the X-Mansion (killing several of the students). Then Xorn/Magneto assaults New York, where Cyclops, Fantomex and a few students confront him. After the rest of the X-Men arrive, Xorn/Magneto kills Jean Grey with an electromagnetically induced stroke, and Wolverine decapitates him.

 

With Jean dead, Xavier leaves the school to Cyclops and Emma Frost, to bury Xorn/Magneto in Genosha. In a retcon of Grant Morrison's storyline, there Xavier meets the "real" Magneto, who mysteriously survived Cassandra Nova's assault. The two resolve their differences and attempt to restore their friendship, leading a team of mutants, the Genoshan Excalibur, to rebuild and restore order to the destroyed island nation.

 

At the mansion, the Danger Room (the X-Men's simulated reality training chamber) gains sentience, christens itself "Danger", assumes a humanoid form, and attacks the X-Men before leaving to kill Xavier. With Magneto's help, Xavier holds off Danger until the X-Men arrive. Danger flees, but not before revealing to Colossus that Xavier has known it to be sentient ever since he upgraded it.

 

Colossus is especially offended by this because he had been held captive and experimented upon by Danger's ally, Ord of the Breakworld. Ashamed, Xavier tries to explain to them that by the time he realized what was happening, he could see no other course. The disgusted X-Men leave.

  

House of M

 

In a prelude to House of M, Magneto's daughter Scarlet Witch has a mental breakdown and causes the death of several Avengers. Magneto brings her to Xavier and asks him to use his mental powers to help her.

 

Although aided by Doctor Strange and the appearance of Cassandra Nova, Xavier is unsuccessful. Xavier orders a meeting of the X-Men and Avengers to decide Wanda's fate.

 

Her brother Quicksilver, believing the heroes plan to kill her, speeds off to Genosha and convinces Wanda that she could right the wrongs she inflicted by using her powers to alter reality.

 

Quicksilver somehow forces a tearful Wanda to reveal to him her heart's desires of Magneto, the assembled New Avengers, and the X-Men, and then uses her powers to make them all real.

 

Thanks to Magneto, though, this re-imagined world is a place where a much more numerous mutant-kind are the dominant species, humans a disenfranchised and oppressed 'silent majority', and Magneto himself rules supreme. In this reality, the only proof that Charles Xavier ever existed is a secret monument in Magneto's palace garden, with the engraved message "He died so Genosha could live".

 

After mutant Layla Miller restores the memories of some of the X-Men and Avengers, they head to Genosha where they discover that Magneto has erected a memorial garden for Xavier commemorating his death. Emma is horrified until Cloak fades into the grave and discovers there is no body inside.

 

After a battle, Scarlet Witch again uses her powers to restore reality and, as a slight against her father, causes a large majority mutants to lose their powers, leaving the mutant race on the brink of extinction and causing the lost powers to become an energy mass, the Collective. With reality restored, Xavier is still missing and the X-Men are unable to detect him with Cerebro.

 

Deadly Genesis

 

Xavier returns when Cyclops' and Havok's long-lost brother, Vulcan, is revived by the Collective energy released as a result of the "House of M" incident. Vulcan then attacks the X-Men.

 

Xavier, now depowered but able to walk in the wake of "House of M", reveals that he had gathered and trained another team of X-Men (this one composed of students of Dr. Moira MacTaggert) sometime between the original team and the new X-Men team introduced in Giant Size X-Men #1.

 

This team included Vulcan as a member. Like the "Giant Size" X-Men team, McTaggert's former students were sent to rescue the original X-Men from Krakoa, the living island. However, after rescuing Cyclops, McTaggert's former students were seemingly killed. Upon Cyclops' return, Xavier removed Cyclops' memories of the death of Vulcan and his teammates and began assembling the "Giant Size" X-Men. Vulcan skirmishes with the X-Men and eventually flees into space.

 

In spite of Cyclops' feelings, Xavier forms a new team including Havok and Darwin, the lone other survivors of Moira's students. Xavier seeks to confront Vulcan before he can enact his vengeance against the Shi'ar empire, which killed Vulcan's mother.

 

While en route to the Shi'ar homeworld, Xavier is abducted and is later thrown into the M'Kraan Crystal by Vulcan. Darwin follows Xavier into the crystal and pulls Xavier out. This somehow restores Xavier's lost telepathy. With help from his longtime lover, Lilandra, Xavier escapes back to Earth with several of his X-Men.

 

Upon Xavier's return to Earth, as seen in the World War Hulk storyline, he begins to search for lost mutants such as Magneto. Charles' search for more mutants is interrupted by the Hulk, who was sent into extraterrestrial exile by the Illuminati, a group of powerful superbeings to which Xavier belongs.

 

Xavier had no part in (and did not know of) the Hulk exile decision, but Xavier admits to Hulk that he would have concurred to a temporary exile so Bruce Banner could be cured of transforming into the Hulk.

 

However, he also tells the Hulk he would not have agreed to permanent exile. Xavier attempts to surrender to the Hulk, but after viewing the X-Mansion's large graveyard dedicated to post-M-Day mutant deaths, The Hulk concludes the mutants have suffered enough and leaves the Mansion grounds on his own accord. While the X-Men tend to the wounded, Cyclops finally forgives Professor X.

 

Messiah Complex

 

While using Cerebra and talking to Beast during the Messiah Complex storyline, Charles detects a new mutant so powerful it fries Cerebra's system. He asks Cyclops to send out a team to find out about the mutant.

 

Once the team has come back empty handed, he argues with Scott for not telling him about the team he deployed to find former Acolytes. Scott tells him outright that he does not need him to run the X-Men anymore.

 

This upsets Charles and annoys him later on when he overhears Cyclops briefing X-Factor on the situation. He also approaches the New X-Men in an attempt to help them figure out a non-violent way to help against the Purifiers, but is quickly rebuked by Surge, who questions where he was when they were getting attacked the first time, and that they did not need to learn from him.

 

Charles questions Cyclops' decision to send X-Force to hunt down his own son, Cable, in front of the students. Cyclops then tells Xavier that he is a distraction that will keep getting in the way and that he must leave the mansion.

 

Xavier is contacted by Cable, who lost the mutant newborn to the traitorous actions of Bishop, who in turn lost the child to the Marauders, and tells him that he is the only one who can help Cable save the future.

 

In the final fight, Xavier is accidentally shot in the head by Bishop. Immediately afterward Xavier's body disappears and Cyclops declares that there are no more X-Men.

 

Professor Xavier survives Bishop's gunshot but falls into a coma. Xavier is kidnapped by Exodus, Tempo, and Karima Shapandar. Exodus tries to heal Xavier, Xavier mentally fights Exodus.

 

Exodus finally approaches Magneto, who is apparently still depowered, for help. Magneto and Karima Shapandar are able to stir Xavier's memories and coax him out of his coma, though Xavier remains slightly confused and partly amnesiac. Later, Exodus confronts Magneto about Joanna Cargill's injury (Magneto was forced to shoot a laser through her eyeball to prevent her attempted an assassination of Xavier).

 

Exodus nearly kills Magneto, and Xavier drags Exodus onto the Astral Plane, putting Xavier's own newly restored mind at stake. Xavier defeats Exodus after a harrowing psionic battle, and Exodus reveals the reason he abducted Xavier and to restore his mind: Exodus wants Xavier to lead the Acolytes and find the mutant messiah child (now under the guardianship of Cable) to indoctrinate the child into their cause.

 

Xavier refuses. Emma Frost's telepathy picks up on the psychic fight, and Emma informs Cyclops that Xavier is alive. Xavier parts company with Magneto and Karima to try to regain his lost memories by visiting people from his past.

 

The first person Charles visits is Carter Ryking, who had gone insane after losing his powers. Charles reads Carter's memories and discovers that when the two were children they were used as test subjects by Nathan Milbury of the Black Womb Project, with the approval of Charles' father, Doctor Brian Xavier.

 

Xavier makes the connection Milbury and X-Men villain, Mister Sinister, who has apparently long been manipulating Charles' life in addition to other X-Men. Afterwards, he discovers he has been targeted by assassins.

 

Charles eventually discovers Mister Sinister had set up Charles, Sebastian Shaw, Juggernaut, and Ryking (Hazard) as potential new hosts for Sinister's mind.

 

Bleeding slowly to death, he apparently gives in to Sinister becoming the new Mister Sinister. But in reality, Xavier is still battling Sinister for control of his body.

 

As Sebastian Shaw and Gambit destroy Sinister's Cronus Machine, the device that he used to transfer his consciousness into new hosts, Xavier drives Sinister out of his body permanently.

 

Xavier thanks Shaw and Gambit for their help and declares he must go and see Cyclops immediately. Professor X returns to the X-Mansion to find it destroyed after recent events.

 

Afterwards, Xavier leaves the ruins of the X-Mansion to secretly meet up Cyclops by psychically coercing his former student for the visit. Xavier explains to Cyclops about the recent events with Mr. Sinister and tries to explain to Cyclops how Sinister has been manipulating Scott's and Jean's lives since when they were children.

 

Xavier attempts to have Scott give him permission to scan Scott's mind for traces of Sinister's influences, but instead, Scott turns the tables on Xavier by revealing that he has secretly invited Emma Frost into their entire meeting and also into Xavier's mind.

 

While in his mind, Emma forces Xavier to relive each of his morally ambiguous decisions under altruistic pretenses. As the issue continues, Charles realizes his human arrogance and that while some of his decisions were morally wrong, he must move forward with his life and deal with the consequences.

 

Emma ends her incursion into Xavier's mind by reminding him of Moira MacTaggert's last words. As he reflects on Moira's words, Xavier gives Cyclops his blessing to lead the X-Men and leaves to find his own path.

 

Following his encounter with Wolverine (in the "Original Sin" Arc) Professor Xavier seeks out his step-brother, the unstoppable Juggernaut in an attempt to reform him. After a conversation about the meaning of the word "Juggernaut" and a review of Juggernaut and Xavier's shared history Xavier offers Cain an empty box as a gift.

 

Confused by Xavier's gift Cain attempts to kill the Professor bringing an entire sports bar down over their heads in the process. Later Cain battles the X-Men in his full Juggernaut armor and conquers the planet.

 

Just as everything appears to be under the Juggernaut's control Xavier reappears and informs him that everything that has just taken place except for Juggernaut destroying the bar took place in Cain's mind.

 

A baffled Cain demands to know how Xavier managed to overcome his psychically shielded helmet to which the Professor replies that he decided to visit Cain in his sleep.

 

Professor Xavier then informs him that he now understands Cain as a person and that he will not attempt to get in his way or reform him again. But Xavier also warns Cain that if he gets in the way of the Professor's path to redemption Xavier will stop him permanently. Following his encounter with Cain it has been revealed that Xavier is now searching for Rogue.

 

After his bruising encounter with Cyclops and Emma Frost, Professor X is forced to revisit the biggest challenge and the biggest failure of his career, Wolverine, when the feral mutant asks for Charles' help in freeing his son from the clutches of the Hellfire Club.

 

As the two search for Daken, Wolverine reveals that when he first joined the X-Men he attempted to assassinate Xavier due to some unknown programming. In response, the Professor broke Logan's mind and rebuilt it so that any and all programming he received was forgotten. Logan also revealed that the real reason Xavier asked him to join the X-Men was that Charles "needed a weapon".

 

Eventually Professor Xavier and Wolverine locate Sebastian Shaw's mansion and attack his minions, just as they are about to enter a bomb explodes from within catching them both off guard. From the wreckage emerges an angry Sebastian who immobilizes Wolverine.

 

Meanwhile, Miss Sinister knocks Daken unconscious and has him taken to the med lab in the mansion's basement. As Shaw prepares to deliver a killing blow to Xavier, Wolverine recovers and stops him telling Xavier to rescue his son. Professor Xavier locates the med lab and after a quick psychic battle with Miss Sinister enters Daken's fractured mind. While in Daken's mind Xavier discovers Romulus's psychic tampering and comments that Daken's mind is even more broken than Wolverine's was.

 

Before Xavier can heal Daken a psychic bomb explodes causing Xavier to become comatose and Daken to wake up. Miss Sinister arrives and attempts to manipulate Daken who reveals that the psychic bomb in his head restored his memories and stabs Miss Sinister in the chest.

 

Meanwhile, Wolverine defeats Shaw and enters the mansion to find Daken standing over an unconscious Xavier preparing to kill him. Wolverine tells Daken that he will not let him hurt Xavier and the two fight.

 

Overcome with guilt over what happened to Daken and Itsu, Wolverine allows himself to be beaten. Just as Daken appears to have won Xavier pulls both of them onto the astral plane revealing that the psychic bomb had little effect on him because his psyche was already shattered.

 

Xavier then explains to Wolverine and Daken that Romulus is solely responsible for Itsu's death and that he lied to Daken about everything because he wanted Wolverine to become his weapon. As the three converse, Daken returns to the physical plane and prevents Shaw from killing Xavier.

 

With the truth revealed Wolverine and Daken decide to kill Romulus. As the two depart Wolverine tells Xavier that he forgives him for all of the dark moments in their history. Wolverine acknowledges that Professor Xavier allowed him to become a hero. Wolverine then tells the Professor that he hopes he will one day be able to forgive him for choosing to kill Romulus.

 

Professor Xavier recruits Gambit to go with him to Australia to find and help Rogue who is currently staying at the X-Men's old base in the Outback; unaware Danger is using Rogue as a conduit for her revenge against him.

 

In a prelude to the "Secret Invasion" storyline, Professor X was at the meeting of the Illuminati when it came to the discussion about the Skrulls planning an invasion by taking out Earth's heroes and posing as them. He claims he was unable to distinguish that Black Bolt had been replaced by a Skrull, and his powers were tested quickly by the Black Bolt Skrull.

 

Professor X leaves after learning even he can no longer trust the others, yet appears to have severely restricted the number of people he informs of the forthcoming alien invasion, as the X-Men were not prepared for the Skrulls, at least at first.

 

Xavier was not seen again during the events of Secret Invasion, though his X-Men in San Francisco are successful at repelling the invaders there through the use of the modified Legacy Virus.

 

Dark Reign

 

During the Dark Reign storyline, Professor X convinces Exodus to disband the Acolytes. A H.A.M.M.E.R. helicopter arrives and from inside appears Norman Osborn, who wants to talk to him.

 

During the Dark Avengers' arrival in San Francisco to enforce martial law and squelch the anti-mutant riots occurring in the city, Xavier appears (back in his wheelchair) in the company of Norman Osborn and publicly denounces Cyclops' actions and urges him to turn himself in.

 

However, this Xavier was revealed to be Mystique who Osborn found to impersonate Xavier in public. The real Xavier is shown in prison on Alcatraz and slowly being stripped of his telepathic powers while in psionic contact with Beast, who was arrested earlier for his part in the anti-mutant riots.

 

It was also revealed by Emma Frost that she and Professor X are both Omega Class Telepaths when she manages to detect the real Professor X.

 

Professor X helps Emma Frost enter Sentry's mind. However, as Emma frees him of the Void's influence, a minute sliver of the entity itself remains in her mind. Xavier quickly tells her to remain in her diamond armor state to prevent the Void from gaining access to her psi-powers. Professor X is later seen with Emma Frost where Beast is recuperating.

 

After what happened at Utopia, Xavier has come to live on the risen Asteroid M, rechristened Utopia, along with the rest of the X-Men, X-Club, and mutant refugees and is also allowed to join the Utopia lead council (Cyclops, Storm, Namor, Iceman, Beast, Wolverine and Emma Frost).

 

While he no longer continues to openly question every move that Cyclops makes, he is still concerned about some of his leadership decisions. Xavier had wanted to return to the mainland to clear his name, but in the aftermath of Osborn declaring Utopia as a mutant detention area, Cyclops refused to let him leave, stating that it would be a tactical advantage to have him as an ace in the hole in case the need arose.

 

To that end, he has kept Xavier out of the field and instead relied on Emma Frost, Psylocke and the Stepford Cuckoos respectively for their own psionic talents.

 

While attending the funeral of Yuriko Takiguchi, Magneto arrives at Utopia, apparently under peaceful motives. Xavier does not believe it, and attacks Magneto telepathically, causing Cyclops to force him to stand down. He later apologizes to Magneto for acting out of his old passions from their complicated relationship, which Magneto accepts.

 

Next, Professor Xavier is seen on Utopia delivering a eulogy at Nightcrawler's funeral. Like the other X-Men, he is deeply saddened by Kurt's death and anxious about the arrival of Cable and Hope.

 

Xavier is seen using his powers to help his son Legion control his many personalities and battle the Nimrods.

 

Afterwards, Professor X is seen surveying the aftermath of the battle from a helicopter. As Hope descends to the ground and cradles Cable's lifeless arm, Xavier reflects on everything that has transpired and states that, while he feels that Hope has indeed come to save mutant kind and revive his dream, she is still only a young woman and will have a long and difficult journey before she can truly achieve her potential.

 

AvX

 

During the "Avengers vs. X-Men" storyline, the Phoenix Force is split into five pieces and bonded with Cyclops, Emma Frost, Namor, Colossus and Magik (who become known as the Phoenix Five).

 

Eventually, Cyclops and Frost come to possess the full Phoenix Force, and Professor X is instrumental in confronting them both, and dies in the ensuing battle with Cyclops.

 

The Phoenix Force is subsequently forced to abandon Cyclops as a host by the efforts of both Hope Summers and the Scarlet Witch.

 

Xavier's body is later stolen by the Red Skull's S-Men while the group also captures Rogue and Scarlet Witch. Xavier's brain is removed and fused to the brain of the Red Skull. After Rogue and Scarlet Witch snapped out of the fight they were in, they find the lobotomized body of Professor X.

 

Red Skull uses the new powers conferred upon him by Professor X's brain to provoke anti-mutant riots. His plans are foiled by the Avengers and the X-Men, and the Skull escapes.

 

Professor X's spirit is later seen in the Heaven dimension along with Nightcrawler's spirit at the time when Azazel invades Heaven.

 

During the AXIS storyline, a fragment of Professor X's psyche (which had escaped the scrubbing of his memories) still existed in Red Skull's mind preventing him from unleashing the full potential of Professor X's powers.

 

During a fight with the Stark Sentinels, Doctor Strange and Scarlet Witch attempt to cast a spell to invert the axis of Red Skull's brain and bring out the fragment of Professor X to defeat Onslaught.

 

Doctor Strange was targeted and captured by the Sentinels before they could cast the spell. When Magneto arrived with his supervillain allies, Doctor Doom and Scarlet Witch attempted to cast the inversion spell again and Red Onslaught was knocked unconscious and reverted to his Red Skull form.

 

Although they did not know whether Professor X was now in control, the Avengers decided to be cautious and take Red Skull to Stark Tower.

 

It was later revealed that the spell had actually caused all the heroes and villains present to undergo a "moral inversion" rather than simply bringing out Professor X in the Skull, with the result that the Skull and other villains became heroic while the Avengers and X-Men present became villainous. Eventually, the inversion was undone.

 

After the Skull mounts a telepathic assault that nearly allows him to take control of the Avengers, he is defeated when Deadpool places Magneto's old helmet on Rogue, allowing her to knock out the Skull and take him to Beast.

 

Beast is subsequently able to perform brain surgery on the Skull, extracting the part of Xavier's brain that was grafted onto the villain's own brain without causing any apparent damage to the Skull. Rogers attempts to claim the fragment for himself, but Rogue flies up and incinerates the fragment with the aid of the Human Torch, the two expressing hope that Xavier will rest in peace.

 

Return

 

The astral form of Professor Xavier has since been revealed to be imprisoned in the Astral Plane after Shadow King somehow acquired it upon Professor X's death.

 

After what appeared to be years in the Astral Plane, Professor X is able to trick Shadow King into playing him in a 'game' that lures Rogue, Mystique and Fantomex onto the Astral Plane, while turning others into carriers for the Shadow King's 'contagious' psychic essence. With the Shadow King certain of his victory, he fails to realize that Xavier's apparent 'surrender' to his game was really just him biding his time until the Shadow King's influence was distracted long enough for him to drop his already-subtly-weakened guard long enough for Xavier to break his bonds, luring in the three aforementioned X-Men as their identities were already fundamentally malleable.

 

With the Shadow King defeated, Xavier is apparently returned to the real world in the body of Fantomex, Fantomex reasoning that nobody really knows who he is as an individual beyond his status as one of the X-Men whereas this act of sacrifice will ensure that he is remembered for a great deed.

 

Proteus has spent years trapped in a psionic hellscape of the Astral Plane, where The Shadow King reigned supreme, only to escape.

 

Part of the reason that he could was the escape of Charles Xavier (who now chooses to go by X, since he is now in a younger body after escaping), and now X leads the X-Men directly into an ambush, as Proteus has warped an entire village with his powers, leading to a mind-to-mind battle that leaves X on the receiving end of a psychic beatdown.

 

Proteus has started his garden and his seeds are planted all over the world. Psylocke is in command and has a plan which mainly consists of Archangel using metal and Mystique morphing into his mother.

 

Once they drain him, Rogue and Bishop convert his energy and release him back to the universe. Whilst this all went down Psylocke and X combined forces to burn out the seeds across the planet. As they are working on it they discover they are not enough to accomplish the task. X mentions the network of psychics the Shadow King was using and that Betsy who is in control should tap into it.

 

She agrees and does so yet unbeknownst to her X was possessed by the Shadow King who violently erupts from X's head.

 

Following X's apparent death after the Shadow King exploded from his skull, the psychic villain tears the X-Men apart until X literally pulls himself back together (a feat he later refuses to explain), and he and Psylocke team up to harness the power of all of Earth's psychics to destroy the Shadow King.

 

As Psylocke says she feels no psychic trace of him anywhere, X implants comforting post-hypnotic psychic suggestions in his allies and then erases their memories (including allowing Warren Worthington to switch between his identities at will). Only Psylocke's memory is left intact, with X telling her she will be the one to "keep him honest" while he embarks on a new mission.

 

Dawn of X

 

X has since made his presence known to his former students and reveals his new plan for all mutantkind. Now clad in a Cerebro-like helmet, Xavier has apparently abandoned his dream for peaceful coexistence, and had turned Krakoa into a sovereign nation state for mutants as well as use it to apparently heal the X-Men from their ordeals during the showdown against the forces of O.N.E.

 

He then leads the X-Men into planting in seeds in strategic locations around the world and Mars, which, overnight, grow into massive plantlike "Habitats". As it turns out, these "Habitats" – and the plants that grew them – are extensions of Krakoa.

 

Through the advancement of mutant technology combined with Krakoa's unique abilities as a living mutant island, Professor X and the X-Men have embassies around the world. Also through this combination of technology and mutant power, Xavier have developed three drugs that could change human life – a pill that extends human life by five years, an adaptable universal antibiotic, and a pill that cures "diseases of the mind, in humans".” In exchange for recognizing the sovereignty of Krakoa, Professor X will give these drugs to mankind, with mutants living in peace on the island.

 

Xavier and Magneto later meet with Raven Darkholm inside his sanctum. The two mutant leaders both greatly pleased with the success of her mission as she presents what they'ed petitioned her to steal. A mysterious USB tab containing sensitive information stolen from Damage Control, Mystique would inquire for her payment as she had met their demands.

 

However, Xavier mentions that he still had more demands that needed to be met as they were building their protected future of Homo Sapiens Superior, seeming to psychokinetically beckon the contents of her theft into his hands while Mystique questions how much more needed to be done for his ultimate pet project.

 

Xavier and Magneto reveal the contents of the USB drive to Cyclops, which are shown to be information on Orchis, an organization dedicated to responding to a large-scale mutant threat and the plans of a Mother Mold.

 

They believe that the creation of the Mother Mold will herald a new generation of Sentinels and along with it, Nimrod. They task Cyclops with assembling a team to destroy the Mother Mold station. Although the team (composed of Cyclops, Marvel Girl, Wolverine, Nightcrawler, Husk, Mystique, Archangel, and Monet) is successfully, they are all killed in the process. X mourns them, vowing "No more."

 

Xavier is revealed to have upgraded Cerebro with the help of Forge, which is now able to copy and store the minds of mutants in a database.

 

After the Five (Hope Summers, Goldballs, Elixir, Proteus, and Tempus) are able to grow the bodies of deceased mutants, Xavier is able to copy the minds back in these empty shells. Thus, he is able to restore Cyclops's team, thanking them for what they did.

 

At the U.N., Xavier, Beast, and Emma celebrate with other ambassadors for the recognition of Krakoa as a sovereign nation. Xavier telepathically converses with Emma, revealing that he knows that she manipulated the Russian ambassador to abstain from the vote, before thanking her for her service.

 

Two days after the U.N. vote, Xavier, Magneto, and Wolverine are in Krakoa waiting besides several portals. While Wolverine expresses his misgivings about the upcoming event, Xavier and Magneto assure him all will be alright. Soon after, several villainous mutants, including Mister Sinister, Sebastian Shaw, Exodus, Selene and Apocalypse arrive through the portals.

 

Apocalypse in particular expresses satisfaction at arriving and Krakoa responds in the same way. Magneto and Xavier reveal that they have invited all mutants, even those who have fought against them in the past, to Krakoa, to form a society. The assembled villainous mutants agree to their terms, and Xavier shakes Apocalypse's hand, welcoming him and the others to their home."

 

While peace reigns on Krakoa, a mysterious team of assassins HALO drops into the island and assassinates Xavier, destroying his Cerebro helmet in the process.

 

The Quiet Council hides Xavier's death from the rest of the world, and through the activation of a Cerebro backup, and the efforts of The Five, Xavier is reborn once more.

 

Soon after, he partakes in a global conference alongside Magneto and Apocalypse, professing that he still loves humanity, whilst subtly warning them in regards to his previous assassination - and his knowledge of an ongoing assassination attempt at the forum itself, foiled by Cyclops and Gorgon.

 

Powers and Abilities

 

Professor X is a mutant who possesses vast telepathic powers, and is among the strongest and most powerful telepaths in the Marvel Universe. He is able to perceive the thoughts of others or project his own thoughts within a radius of approximately 250 miles (400 km).

 

Xavier's telepathy once covered the entire world; although following this, Magneto altered the Earth's electromagnetic field to restrict Xavier's telepathic range.

 

While not on Earth, Xavier's natural telepathic abilities have reached across space to make universal mental contact with multiple alien races.

 

With extreme effort, he can also greatly extend the range of his telepathy. He can learn foreign languages by reading the language centers of the brain of someone adept, and alternately "teach" languages to others in the same manner. Xavier once trained a new group of mutants mentally, subjectively making them experience months of training together, while only hours passed in the real world.

 

Xavier's vast psionic powers enable him to manipulate the minds of others, warp perceptions to make himself seem invisible, project mental illusions, cause loss of particular memories or total amnesia, and induce pain or temporary mental and/or physical paralysis in others.

 

Within close range, he can manipulate almost any number of minds for such simple feats. However, he can only take full possession of one other mind at a time, and must strictly be within that person's physical presence. He is one of the few telepaths skilled enough to communicate with animals and even share their perceptions.

 

He can also telepathically take away or control people's natural bodily functions and senses, such as sight, hearing, smell, taste, or even mutant powers.

 

A side effect of his telepathy is that he has an eidetic memory and his brain can assimilate and process impossibly huge amounts of raw data in an astonishingly short amount of time.

 

He has displayed telepathic prowess sufficient to confront Ego the Living Planet (while aided by Cadre K) as well as narrowly defeat Exodus.

 

However, he cannot permanently "reprogram" human minds to believe what he might want them to believe even if he wanted to do so, explaining that the mind is an organism that would always recall the steps necessary for it to reach the present and thus 'rewrite' itself to its original setting if he tried to change it.

 

However, his initial reprogramming of Wolverine lasted several years, despite Wolverine overcoming the reprogramming much faster than an ordinary human because of his healing factor.

 

He is able to project from his mind 'bolts' composed of psychic energy, enabling him to stun the mind of another person into unconsciousness, inflict mental trauma, or even cause death. These 'bolts' inflict damage only upon other minds, having a negligible effect on non-mental beings, if any.

 

The manner in which Xavier's powers function indicates that his telepathy is physical in some way, as it can be enhanced by physical means (for example, Cerebro), but can also be disrupted by physical means (for example, Magneto's alteration of the Earth's magnetic field).

 

Xavier can perceive the distinct mental presence/brain waves of other superhuman mutants within a small radius of himself. To detect mutants to a wider area beyond this radius, he must amplify his powers through Cerebro and subsequently Cerebra, computer devices of his own design which are sensitive to the psychic/physical energies produced by the mind.

 

Professor X can project his astral form into a psychic dimension known as the astral plane. There, he can use his powers to create objects, control his surroundings, and even control and destroy the astral forms of others. He cannot project this form over long distances.

 

Uncanny X-Men writer Ed Brubaker has claimed that, after being de-powered by the Scarlet Witch, and then re-powered by the M'Kraan Crystal, Charles' telepathy is more powerful than was previously known. However, the extent of this enhancement is unknown.

 

Years prior to initial publishing, Charles Xavier had an undefined level of telekinesis. This aspect of his powers were potent enough to cause catastrophic system disruption in computerized appliances.

 

Such an attribute has faded, however. His evil counterpart Cassandra Nova Xavier would possess this ability, indicating he still possessed the potential for them.

 

This potential was proven true after his death and resurgence within the younger, stronger body of Charlie Cluster 7. The Professor, using the moniker X, fashioned a Cerebro like a helmet which acts as a focusing device for his psionic powers and used it to galvanize latent aspects of his X-Gene to stimulate some dormant properties, seemingly using telekinesis to will a flash drive on Mystique's person into his hand.

 

Charles Xavier is a genius with multiple doctorates. He is a world-renowned geneticist, a leading expert in mutation, possesses considerable knowledge of various life sciences, and is the inventor of Cerebro.

He possesses Ph.D.s in Genetics, Biophysics, Psychology, and Anthropology, and an M.D. in Psychiatry. He is highly talented in devising equipment for utilizing and enhancing psionic powers. He is also a great tactician and strategist, effectively evaluating situations and devising swift responses.

 

During his travels in Asia, Xavier learned martial arts, acquiring "refined combat skills" according to Magneto. When these skills are coordinated in tandem with his telepathic abilities, Xavier is a dangerous unarmed combatant, capable of sensing the intentions of others and countering them with superhuman efficiency. He also has extensive knowledge of pressure points.

 

Charles Xavier was also given possession of the Mind Gem. It allows the user to boost mental power and access the thoughts and dreams of other beings. Backed by the Power Gem, it is possible to access all minds in existence simultaneously. Like all other former Illuminati members, Xavier has sworn to never use the gem and to keep its location hidden.

 

The Xavier Protocols

 

Totally NOT a blatant rip-off of the Batman Protocols from DC... /end sarcasm

 

The Xavier Protocols are a set of doomsday plans created by Professor X. The protocols detail the best way to kill many powerful mutant characters, including the X-Men and Xavier himself, should they become too large of a danger.

 

The Xavier Protocols are first mentioned during the Onslaught crossover and first seen in Excalibur #100 in Moira MacTaggert's lab. Charles Xavier compiled a list of the Earth's most powerful mutants and plans on how to defeat them if they become a threat to the world. They are first used after Onslaught grows too powerful.

 

Only parts of the actual protocols are ever shown. In the Operation: Zero Tolerance crossover Bastion obtains an encrypted copy of the protocols, intending to use them against the X-Men.

 

However, Cable infiltrates the X-Mansion and secures all encrypted files before Bastion has a chance to decrypt them.

 

Due to the tampering of Bastion and his Sentinels, the X-Mansion computer system Cerebro gains autonomy and seeks to destroy the X-Men by employing its knowledge of the Xavier Protocols. In a virtual environment created by Professor X, Cerebro executes the Xavier Protocols against the X-Men.

 

Each protocol is activated by the presence of a different combination of X-Men and were written by Xavier himself: Code 0-0-0 (Charles Xavier) was activated by Moira MacTaggert, Cyclops, and Jean Grey.

 

This file is both an entry on Charles Xavier, as well as an introduction to the Xavier Protocols. It contained a holographic image of Charles Xavier, reading the following message: "Moira, Scott, Jean; if you three are seeing these images, then I have become a mortal threat to my X-Men. In this instance, I must be stopped by any means necessary. Some years ago, I made a study of various forms of possible defense against my own psychic abilities. The image next to me is that of an anti-psionic armor. The wearer should be protected from my talent. When I finish speaking, a blueprint for this armor will be downloaded."

 

Code 0-2-1 (Wolverine) was activated by Archangel, Cyclops, and Jean Grey. Code 1-3-9 (Cable) was activated by Cyclops, Jean Grey, and Cannonball. Other X-Men who have faced their Xavier Protocols are Colossus, Rogue, Shadowcat, Nightcrawler, Storm, and Gambit.

 

⚡ Happy 🎯 Heroclix 💫 Friday! 👽

_____________________________

A year of the shows and performers of the Bijou Planks Theater.

 

Secret Identity: Charles Francis Xavier

 

Publisher: Marvel

 

First appearance: The X-Men #1 (September 1963)

 

Created by: Stan Lee (writer)

Jack Kirby (artist)

 

Professor X last seen back in BP 2019 Day 234!

 

To see the official National Trust website please click:-

 

www.nationaltrust.org.uk/gawthorpe-hall

  

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gawthorpe_Hall

  

Gawthorpe Hall is an Elizabethan country house on the banks of the River Calder, in the civil parish of Ightenhill in the Borough of Burnley, Lancashire, England. Its estate extends into Padiham, with the Stockbridge Drive entrance situated there. Since 1953 it has been designated a grade I listed building.[1] The hall is financed and run by the National Trust in partnership with Lancashire County Council.[2] In 2015 the Hall was given £500,000 funding from Lancashire County Council for vital restoration work needed on the south and west sides of the house.

  

History

  

Gawthorpe Hall's origins are in a pele tower, a strong fortification built by the Shuttleworths in the 14th century as a defence against invading Scots.[4] The Shuttleworths occupied Shuttleworth Hall near Hapton from the 12th century.[5] The Elizabethan house was dovetailed around the pele tower from plans drawn up by Richard Shuttleworth but carried out after his death by his brother the Reverend Lawrence Shuttleworth. The foundation stone was laid on 26 August 1600.[6] The architect is not recorded, but the house is generally attributed to Robert Smythson.[7]

 

In 1604 Richard Stone, from Carr House in Bretherton, imported Irish panel boards and timber and stored 1,000 pieces in the tithe barn at Hoole until they were needed.[8] The mottoes of the Kay-Shuttleworths are Prudentia et Justitia (Prudence and Justice – Shuttleworth) and Kynd Kynn Knawne Kepe (Kind Friends Know and Keep – Kay).[9] Mottoes are found in the front porch and around the top of the tower.[10] The initials KS, Kay-Shuttleworth occur in decoration throughout the house, on the front door and plaster roundels on the ceiling in the main dining room.

  

An early occupant was Colonel Richard Shuttleworth (MP), who inherited it in about 1607 from his uncle. Colonel Shuttleworth was High Sheriff of Lancashire for 1637, Member of Parliament for Preston (1640 to 1648 and 1654 to 1659) and commander of the Parliamentarian Army of the Blackburn Hundred during the Civil War. After his death Gawthorpe was leased to tenants, the Shuttleworths preferring to live at Forcett Hall near Richmond.

 

After Forcett was sold the Shuttleworths returned to Gawthorpe. In 1818 barrister, Robert Shuttleworth died and his daughter Janet inherited the estate at an early age. Her mother remarried and remained at Gawthorpe to protect her inheritance. In 1842 Janet married Sir James Kay of Rochdale, who adopted the surname Kay-Shuttleworth and commissioned Sir Charles Barry to carry out restoration and improvements to the house in the 1850s.[1] Sir James was made a baronet in 1849 and served as High Sheriff of Lancashire for 1864. Charlotte Brontë, a family friend visited the house. In 1953 Charles Kay-Shuttleworth, 4th Baron Shuttleworth, left Gawthorpe to live at Leck Hall near Kirby Lonsdale and in 1970, after the death of Rachel Kay-Shuttleworth, Gawthorpe was gifted to the National Trust.

 

The National Trust described the hall as "an Elizabethan gem in the heart of industrial Lancashire". Nicholas Cooper described the hall's plan as an early example in which the main stair is immediately accessible from the main entrance, a feature that became standard.[11] The hall has a collection of 17th and 18th century portraits on permanent loan from the National Portrait Gallery and is notable for its textiles, collected by the last resident family member Rachel Kay-Shuttleworth, about a fifth of which is on display.

  

House

  

Porch

  

The porch was rebuilt by Sir Charles Barry in 1851 who replaced the round-headed archway over the door with a four-centred arch on columns set on raised plinths and installed a three-light mullioned window above it to create a tile-floored vestibule. A stone plaque displaying the Shuttleworth, (three weaver's shuttles) Kay and Kay-Shuttleworths arms carved by Thomas Hurdeys in 1605 was retained. The Kay motto was inscribed on the outside of the door lintel and the Shuttleworth's on the inside.[12] The door's decorative ironwork was designed by Pugin and made by Hardman's of Birmingham in 1851 at a cost of £17 1s 6d. The interior is decorated with a carved stone panel bearing Sir James Kay-Shuttleworth's arms and two ceremonial sheriff's javelins and a black oak sword-chest dated to about 1500.[12]

  

Entrance hall

  

The entrance hall was extended at its east end and reordered when the 17th-century mezzanine bedroom, a low-ceilinged pantry and the buttery were removed in the 1850s. The fireplace's stone over-mantel was used in the vestibule. The fireplace was given a marble surround, incorporating family initials in 1856 and an iron grate with lions-head dampers was supplied in 1852.[13] A Renaissance-style panelled and arcaded openwork wooden screen was constructed in 1851 by William Horne. Oak panelling was installed framing two internal windows between which is a Jacobean panel and above it was a gallery for family portraits.[14]

 

An Edwardian photograph shows the hall with a billiard table, upholstered bobbin-turned chairs, two wicker chairs and a Glastonbury armchair. The entrance hall was converted into a kitchen in 1945. The archway blocked, the screen dismantled, panelling removed and an internal window made into a serving hatch. Only the fireplace and geometrical ceiling were left intact. The room was later made into a study. In 1986 the screen was reconstructed, surviving woodwork re-installed and missing pieces re-carved and some stonework was repaired.[15]

 

Portraits from the mid 17th century, include four on loan from the National Portrait Gallery, commemorating Roundheads imprisoned in Windsor Castle. There are portraits of Lord and Lady Derby, and of their contemporaries.[16] Furniture includes a hutch cupboard inlaid with holly and bog oak from 1630 on a late 17th-century cupboard, two panel-back carved armchairs and a blanket chest. An ornate eight-day bracket clock from about 1725 is signed by Louis Mynuel.[15]

  

Great Hall

  

The 17th century Great Hall was used for formal dinners, performing plays, music and dancing and from 1816 became the family dining room. It was refurnished after restoration by Barry in 1852. Its galleried entrance screen was built by Thomas Hurdeys, Hugh Sandes and Cornelius Towndley in 1604-05. Above its doorways is the date 1605 and the initials of Hugh Shuttleworth and his sons - Richard, Lawrence and Thomas. By 1850 the gallery was unsafe and shored up with pillars. An 18th-century over-mantel mirror, from the drawing room, was cut up to provide panels.[16] Barry's 1851 carved stone chimney piece is superimposed on a wider 17th-century fireplace with an elliptical arch. Its sides are concealed with oak panelling and wall benches. The over-mantel has the Kay-Shuttleworth coat of arms, flanked by shields of Shuttleworth, Kay, and their wives - Fleetwood Barton, Jane Kirke, Catherine Clark and Mary Holden. The cast-iron fire grate and andirons were made in 1852 and the encaustic tiles in 1880.[17]

 

Barry intended to retain its 1605 plaster ceiling but replaced it with a design reproducing the old pattern in an enriched form. In May 1852 red flock wallpaper designed to simulate 16th-century Italian velvets was supplied from J. G. Crace & Co. It survived until the 1960s and in 1987 new wallpaper was reprinted from the original "Rutland blocks", using distempered colours. Wool and silk brocade curtains by Crace have a pattern based on 15th-century Italian figured silk velvets devised by Pugin in 1844.

 

An 1850s Renaissance style trestle table was supplied by Crace. Two alabaster models by G Andreoni of Pisa representing the Baptistry and church of Santa Maria della Spina were purchased by Blanche Kay-Shuttleworth in about 1880. An oak dining table with turned legs was made in 1881 by Gillows of Lancaster and the twist-turned oak dining chairs may also be by them. A carved oak Charles II armchair is one of' a pair made in Yorkshire in 1808 with seat panels in petitpoint floral work. The trestle fire screen has an embroidered panel. The mid-19th-century Feraghan carpet is of the same date, style and manufacture as one shown in N. F. Green's 1884 watercolour.[18]

 

The hall contains portraits of Sir Thomas Aylesbury painted in about 1642 by William Dobson, James Harrington and Nathaniel Highmore.[19]

  

Drawing Room

  

Robert Shuttleworth changed the medieval "dyning chamber" into a drawing room retaining its Jacobean panelling and plasterwork. The Italian Renaissance-style inlaid panelling with arabesques in semicircular arcading by the craftsmen who made the entrance screen, was started in 1603 and took a year to complete. The panelling's cornice supports a frieze and ceiling by Francis and Thomas Gunby. The frieze's contains a grotesque in which human, half-human and animal figures are entwined with fruiting stems and foliage. The ceiling is decorated with vines and oak branches in the spaces between strapwork ribbing. The plaster work took five months to complete in 1605. The fireplace arch was renewed by Barry in 1851 retaining the l7th-century hearthstone and stone fender and has a cast-iron gothic fire grate, designed by Pugin. Its andirons have armorial plates and wrought brass finials.The overmantel is dated 1604 above the Shuttleworth arms.

 

Of the Victorian furnishings and decoration, the bright green curtains were replaced by silk and linen brocatelle, re-woven from a fragment of material found in the house, with a pattern of stylised pomegranates and pineapples. A mid-19th-century blue and red Mahal carpet produced by Ziegler & Co. is a replacement and a Shirvan hearthrug dates from the 19th century. Portraits of Sir Ughtred and Lady Kay-Shuttleworth from1884 are by John Collier.[20]

  

Garden and grounds

  

The small ornamental garden was laid out on a terrace overlooking the River Calder at the rear of the house by Charles Barry. The semicircular terrace wall is Grade II listed.[21] The course of the river was diverted away from Gawthorpe Hall in the 19th century because of pollution and again diverted to accommodate an open cast coal scheme north of the river in Padiham in the 1960s.[22]

 

Other listed buildings associated with the hall are the Great Barn (built 1602–04),[23] the old farmhouse (1605–06, now used as the estate offices),[24] the game larder,[25] the coach house (1870),[26] and the lodges and gateways on Habergham and Stockbridge drives (both c.1849).[27][28][29]

 

Burnley F.C. have trained at a centre in the grounds since the 1950s.[30]

 

Gawthorpe is one of the trailheads of the Brontë Way, a 43-mile (69 km) long-distance footpath that crosses the South Pennines to Haworth, continuing to Oakwell Hall, Birstall, West Yorkshire.[31]

Benjamin J. Grimm is a founding member of the Fantastic Four. Ben Grimm received his powers by being exposed to a cosmic storm, and became known as The Thing.

 

Born on Yancy Street in New York City's Lower East Side, to a Jewish family, Benjamin Jacob "Ben" Grimm has an early life of poverty and hardship, shaping him into a tough, streetwise scrapper. His older brother Daniel, whom Ben idolizes, is killed in a street gang fight when Ben is eight years old. *

 

Following the death of his parents, Ben is raised by his Uncle Jake (who married a much younger wife, Petunia, who becomes a frequent reference used by the character). He comes to lead the Yancy Street gang at one point.

 

Excelling in football as a high school student, Ben receives a full scholarship to Empire State University, where he first meets his eventual lifelong friend in a teenaged genius named Reed Richards, as well as future enemy Victor von Doom. Despite their being from radically different backgrounds, science student Richards describes to Grimm his dream of building a space rocket to explore the regions of space around Mars; Grimm jokingly agrees to fly that rocket when the day comes.

 

Grimm, after earning multiple advanced degrees in engineering, serves in the United States Marine Corps as a test pilot during World War II. These exploits are chronicled to a limited extent in Captain Savage and his Leatherneck Raiders. While in the military, Nick Fury sends him, Logan and Carol Danvers on a top secret surveillance mission into Vladivostok. Following this, he becomes an astronaut for NASA, taking part in attempts to reach the Moon, occurring at a time before any crewed space ship had escaped Earth's orbit.

 

The Thing

 

Some years later, Reed Richards, now a successful scientist, once again makes contact with Grimm. Richards has built his spaceship, and reminds Grimm of his promise to fly it.

 

After the government denies him permission to fly the spaceship himself, Richards plots a clandestine flight piloted by Grimm and accompanied by his future wife Susan Storm, who had helped provide funding for the rocket, and her younger brother Johnny Storm, who helped the group gain access to the launch system.

 

Although reluctant to fly the rocket, Ben is persuaded to do so by Sue, for whom he has a soft spot. During this unauthorized ride into the upper atmosphere of Earth and the Van Allen Belts, they are pelted by a cosmic ray storm and exposed to radiation against which the ship's shields are no protection.

 

Upon crashing down to Earth, each of the four learn that they have developed fantastic superhuman abilities. Grimm's skin is transformed into a thick, lumpy orange hide, which gradually evolves into his now-familiar craggy covering of large rocky plates.

 

Richards proposes the quartet band together to use their new abilities for the betterment of humanity, and Grimm, in a moment of self-pity, adopts the super-heroic sobriquet, the Thing. The team clashes with the Mole Man in their first public appearance.

 

Trapped in his monstrous form, Grimm is an unhappy yet reliable member of the team. He trusts in his friend Reed Richards to one day develop a cure for his condition. However, when he encounters blind sculptress Alicia Masters, Grimm develops an unconscious resistance to being transformed back to his human form.

 

Subconsciously fearing that Masters prefers him to remain in the monstrous form of the Thing, Grimm's body rejects various attempts by Richards to restore his human form, lest he lose Masters' love.

 

Grimm has remained a stalwart member of the Fantastic Four for years. The Thing first fought the Hulk early in his career, with many such further clashes over the years. Not long after that, he is first reverted to his human form, but is then restored to his Thing form to battle Doctor Doom.

 

Grimm has been temporarily replaced on the team twice. First, after Grimm temporarily lost his powers and reverted to human form, Reed Richards hired Luke Cage (then using the code name "Power Man") to take his place until Richards had completed a Thing-suit for Ben (however, Ben unexpectedly reverted into the actual Thing again later on).

 

Years later, after Grimm chose to remain on Battleworld in the aftermath of the "Secret Wars" due to his apparent control over his transformation between his human and mutated states, he asked the She-Hulk to fill in for him. Mister Fantastic did leave him with the device needed to return to Earth when it comes time. The Thing's time on Battleworld lasted until Ben's eventually deciding to return home after defeating Ultron and slaying his manifested dark side Grimm the Sorcerer. Once he left, the planet had no more reason to exist and so it broke apart.

 

On returning to Earth, he learns that Alicia had become romantically involved with his teammate Johnny Storm during his absence (it is eventually revealed that this Alicia was actually the Skrull impostor Lyja). An angry Grimm wallows in self-pity for a time, later on accompanying the West Coast Avengers, and actually joining the team for a while.

 

Eventually, he returns to his surrogate family as leader of the Fantastic Four when Mr. Fantastic and the Invisible Woman leave the team to raise their son Franklin, at which point Ben invites Crystal and Ms. Marvel II (Sharon Ventura) to fill their slots. Soon after Sharon and Ben are irradiated with cosmic rays, Sharon becomes the She-Thing, lumpy much like Ben was in his first few appearances, while Ben mutates into a new rockier, more powerful form.

 

After being further mutated into the more monstrous rocky form, Ben is briefly changed back to his human form, and returned leadership of the Fantastic Four to Reed Richards. Grimm once more returned to his traditional orange rocky form out of love for Ms. Marvel. He remains a steadfast member of the Fantastic Four.

 

Later, Ben learns that he is entitled to a large sum of money, his share of the Fantastic Four fortune, which Reed Richards had never touched, as he had the shares of the other teammates (who were family members) in order to pay off various debts of the group.

 

The Thing uses his newfound wealth to build a community center in his old neighborhood on Yancy Street, the "Grimm Youth Center". Thinking the center is named after the Thing himself, the Yancy Street Gang plans to graffiti the building exterior, but discovers the building was actually named after Daniel Grimm, Ben's deceased older brother and former leader of the gang.

 

The relationship between the Yancy Streeters and the Thing is then effectively reconciled, or at least changed to a more good-natured, playful rivalry (as exemplified by the comic ending, with the Yancy Streeters spray-painting the sleeping Thing).

 

Civil War/The Initiative

 

Initially in the "Civil War", Ben is a reluctant member of the pro-registration side of the controversy over the 2006 Superhuman Registration Act (SHRA), until he witnesses a battle on Yancy Street in which Captain America's forces try to rescue captured allies held by Iron Man's forces.

 

The Fantastic Four's foes the Mad Thinker and the Puppet Master try to escalate the battle, using a mind-controlled Yancy Streeter to deliver a bomb. The young man dies and the Thing verbally blasts both sides for not caring about the civilians caught in the conflict.

 

He announces that, while he thinks the registration is wrong, he is also not going to fight the government and is thus leaving the country for France. While in France, he meets Les Héros de Paris (The Heroes of Paris).

 

Ben returns to New York as both sides of the SHRA battle in the city. Indifferent to choosing sides, Ben focuses on protecting civilians from harm.

 

During this time, Ben celebrates the Fantastic Four's anniversary along with the Human Torch, and latecomers Reed and Sue. The aftermath of the Civil War is still being felt, as Ben and Johnny (and even Franklin) consider the future of the team and Reed and Sue's marriage.

 

When Reed and Sue arrive near issue's end, they announce that they are taking a break from the team and have found two replacement members: the Black Panther, and Storm of the X-Men. Ben opines, "Come on, Suzie, don't leave us hangin'."

 

Ben Grimm served as one of the pallbearers at the memorial service for Captain America who was thought dead, along with Tony Stark, Ms. Marvel, Rick Jones, T'Challa and Sam Wilson.

 

"World War Hulk"

 

Ben once again tries to take on the Hulk within the events of the "World War Hulk" crisis, in order to buy Reed Richards the time he needs to complete his plans for the Hulk. Ben gives his best shots, but the Hulk takes his punches without slowing down. The Hulk proceeds to knock out Ben by punching both sides of his head simultaneously. He is later seen captive in Madison Square Garden, which the Hulk has turned into a gladiatorial arena, with an obedience disk fitted on him.

 

Released from his imprisonment, Ben, Spider-Man, and Luke Cage attack the Warbound, with Ben fighting Korg. Their battle is brought to an abrupt end when Hiroim repairs the damage to Manhattan Island, drawing the energy to do so from Ben and Korg.

 

Secret Invasion

 

In the Secret Invasion event, the Skrull Lyja, posing as Sue, sends the Baxter Building, with Ben, Johnny, Franklin, and Valeria inside, into the Negative Zone. Not long after their arrival, Ben has to protect Franklin and Valeria from an impending onslaught of giant insects.

 

With the aid of the Tinkerer, who Ben broke out of the Negative Zone Prison, they, with the exception of Lyja who stayed behind, were able to return to the regular Marvel Universe just after the invasion was over.

 

Heroic Age

 

Following the Siege of Asgard, Luke Cage asks Ben to serve on his Avengers team. Although Ben states that his loyalty will always be to the Fantastic Four, Cage confirms that he is not asking Ben to resign from his original team, merely suggesting that Ben split his time between the two teams, as Wolverine divides his time between the X-Men and the Avengers.

 

"Fear Itself"

 

During the "Fear Itself" event, Ben lifts one of the seven fallen hammers of the Serpent and, possessed, becomes Angrir: Breaker of Souls. In this form, he then destroys Yancy Street and Avengers Tower, and battles Spider-Man, Mister Fantastic and Invisible Woman, before confronting Thor, who seriously wounds him. Franklin then uses his powers to restore Ben to his normal self, free from the Serpent's possession.

 

"Original Sin"

 

In the "Original Sin" event, after learning from the eye of the murdered Uatu that Johnny Storm unintentionally sabotaged an experiment that could have allowed Grimm to become human again, Ben is found having apparently murdered the Puppet Master; the crime was committed in a sealed room that even Reed Richards could barely penetrate, with Alicia Masters as the only witness.

 

Although Ben claims innocence, his depression over recent events prompts him to accept incarceration in the Raft. Although power-dampeners in the Raft restrict his strength to a more manageable level, he is attacked by various other thick-skinned superhumans — including the Armadillo and Ironclad — on orders of the current 'boss' of the prison, Sharon Ventura, the She-Thing.

 

Eventually, Ben forms an alliance with the Sandman and manages to escape the prison with the aid of a plan coordinated by the She-Hulk and Ant-Man, allowing him to rejoin Sue and Johnny to investigate Reed's recent abduction, revealing that the dead Puppet Master came from the alternate Earth Franklin had created.

 

Post-Secret Wars

 

As the Fantastic Four disbanded in the aftermath of the "Secret Wars" storyline, the Thing is working with the Guardians of the Galaxy, and the Human Torch is acting as an ambassador with the Inhumans and becoming part of the Uncanny Avengers.

 

During the "Secret Empire" event, the Thing appears as a member of the Underground, which is a resistance movement against HYDRA ever since they took over the United States, until the real Captain America returns, ending HYDRA's empires and defeating his HYDRA counterpart.

 

Fantastic Four Return

 

To help the Thing cope with Mister Fantastic and the Invisible Woman's disappearance, the Human Torch takes him on a journey through the Multiverse, using the Multisect in order to find them.

 

They were not able to find Mister Fantastic and the Invisible Woman, and they returned to Earth-616 empty-handed.

 

The Thing and the Human Torch were reunited with Mister Fantastic and the Invisible Woman to help alongside other superheroes who were part of the Fantastic Four (including, surprisingly, the X-Men's member the Iceman) fight the Griever at the End of All Things after Mister Fantastic persuaded the Griever to let him summon the Thing and the Human Torch.

 

As the Thing and his teammates finally return to 616, while the Future Foundation stays behind to keep learning about the Multiverse, the Thing reveals to them that he and Alicia proposed their wedding and are about to get married soon. Although the Baxter Building is now owned by a new superhero team, Fantastix, the Thing allows his teammates to use his home in Yancy Street as their current operation base.

 

Relationships

 

The Thing is generally well liked by other heroes within the Marvel Universe. Grimm's relationship with his teammates has been a close but occasionally edgy one given his temper. He and Johnny Storm (the Human Torch) often argue and clash but they do respect each other.

 

Grimm's first love interest is the blind Alicia Masters, and he is intensely protective of her. When Johnny starts a relationship of his own with Alicia and they become engaged, Grimm is upset. However, he has to concede that, unlike himself and his stone-covered body, Johnny can "be a man". He agrees to act as best man at their wedding.

 

The relationship between Alicia and Johnny is ended with the revelation that the Alicia that Johnny fell in love with is actually Lyja, a member of the shape-changing alien race known as the Skrulls. The real Alicia, who was kept in suspended animation, is rescued by the Fantastic Four and reunited with the Thing.

 

Ben begins dating a teacher named Debbie Green. Ben soon asks Debbie to marry him, which she accepts. He later leaves her at the altar when he realizes the dangers of the wives of superheroes.

 

Grimm is best friends with Reed Richards, whom he addresses with the nickname "Stretch", due to Richards' natural height and his ability to stretch his body. However, Grimm also holds Reed responsible for his condition, since Richards had dismissed the potential danger of the cosmic rays that gave them their powers, although Grimm had taken them very seriously. At times of real frustration towards Reed, Grimm refers to him simply as "Richards".

 

Grimm is the godfather of Reed and Sue's son Franklin, who affectionately calls him "Unca Ben".

 

Powers and abilities

 

The Thing's primary superhuman power is his great physical strength. Over the years, as a result of further mutation and rigorous training on machines designed by Reed Richards, his strength has increased dramatically.

 

He is capable of surviving impacts of great force without sustaining injury, as his body is covered with an orange, flexible, rock-like hide. He is also able to withstand gunfire from high-caliber weapons as well as armor-piercing rounds. It is possible to breach his exterior, however, and he does bleed as a result. One such instance involved Wolverine's adamantium claws scarring The Thing's face.

 

The Thing's highly advanced musculature generates fewer fatigue toxins during physical activity, granting him superhuman levels of stamina. When in his Thing form, he has only four fingers on each hand and four toes on each foot. The loss of one digit of each hand and foot, aside from the increase in volume of the remainder, does not affect his manual dexterity. However, he has been shown doing things like holding a pencil and using it to dial a phone (even with rotary dials), or to push buttons on a keypad, to use devices that would ordinarily be too small for him.

 

Aside from his physical attributes, the Thing's senses can withstand higher levels of sensory stimulation than an ordinary human, with the exception of his sense of touch. His lungs are possessed of greater efficiency and volume than those of an ordinary human. As a result, the Thing is capable of holding his breath for much longer periods of time.

 

The Thing is an exceptionally skilled pilot, due to his time spent as a test pilot in the United States Marine Corps and as a founding member of the Fantastic Four. He is also a formidable and relentless hand-to-hand combatant. His fighting style incorporates elements of boxing, wrestling, judo, jujitsu, and street-fighting techniques, as well as hand-to-hand combat training from the military.

 

On occasion, when Ben Grimm regained his human form and lost his Thing powers, he used a suit of powered battle armor designed by Reed Richards that simulated the strength and durability of his mutated body, albeit to a weaker degree. Wearing the suit, which was designed to physically resemble his rocky form, Ben continued to participate in the Fantastic Four's adventures. The first exo-skeletal Thing suit was destroyed after Galactus restored Ben's natural powers and form. A second suit was built (presumably by Richards) and used sporadically when Ben had been returned to his human form again.

 

Reed has failed many times to restore Ben permanently to human form. When Doom reverses Sharon Ventura's similar cosmic-ray transformation, he uses both science and magic. Ben is almost immortal when in his Thing form, as he only ages when he is human. After Franklin and Valeria create a formula that allows Ben to become human for one week each year, Reed and Nathaniel traveled over 3,000 years into the future to see Ben still alive after all that time.

 

⚡ Happy 🎯 Heroclix 💫 Friday! 👽

_____________________________

 

A year of the shows and performers of the Bijou Planks Theater.

 

Alter Ego: Benjamin J. Grimm

 

Publisher: Marvel

 

First appearance: The Fantastic Four #1 (Nov. 1961)

 

Created by: Stan Lee (writer)

Jack Kirby (artist)

 

* This portion of his own life is modeled on that of Jack Kirby, who grew up on tough Delancey Street, whose brother died when he was young, whose father was named Benjamin, and who was named Jacob at birth. Some personality traits of the cantankerously lovable, occasionally cigar-smoking, Jewish native of the Lower East Side are popularly recognized as having been inspired by those of co-creator Jack Kirby, who in interviews has said he intended Grimm to be an alter ego of himself.

 

See Ben in previous Bijou Planks performances, including:

 

"Surprise, Surprise!" BP 2018 Day 306:

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/45297129221/

 

"A New Ride" BP 2019 Day 17:

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/46778444831/

 

"Still Waiting..." BP 2019 Day 362:

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/49287214118/

 

"Fantastic Food" BP 2020 Day 216:

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/50185600671/

 

"Scales of Rock" BP 2022 Day 290:

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/52435927699/

 

And in the main Paprihaven storyline such as:

 

Issue 1460:

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/32146206338/

 

Issue 1485:

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/39826696213/

  

"Look at me! Look at what I am! We shoot ourselves into space ... like a buncha amateurs! And this is what we get! This is what I get!"

 

('The Thing' (Ben Grimm) by ToyBiz / Marvel Legends Series 2)

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

 

Or something.

 

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

 

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

 

So it goes.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

This is real history.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

That was the plan.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

A ha?

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Better get going and head north.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

16 miles.

 

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

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

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

 

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

 

Phew.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

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

 

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

 

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

   

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

   

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

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

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

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

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

 

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

 

The North Chapel and Transept

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

The South Aisle

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

 

The West Window

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

 

The Bells

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

 

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

 

The South Porch

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

 

The Exterior

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

  

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

 

More Sing Along

The Kirby Stone Four And The "Sing-Along-ers"

Promenade Records/USA

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

 

Or something.

 

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

 

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

 

So it goes.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

This is real history.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

That was the plan.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

A ha?

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Better get going and head north.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

16 miles.

 

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

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

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

 

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

 

Phew.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

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

 

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

 

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

   

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

   

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

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

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

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

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

 

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

 

The North Chapel and Transept

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

The South Aisle

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

 

The West Window

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

 

The Bells

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

 

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

 

The South Porch

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

 

The Exterior

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

  

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

 

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

 

Or something.

 

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

 

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

 

So it goes.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

This is real history.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

That was the plan.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

A ha?

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Better get going and head north.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

16 miles.

 

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

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

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

 

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

 

Phew.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

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

 

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

 

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

   

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

   

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

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

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

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

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

 

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

 

The North Chapel and Transept

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

The South Aisle

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

 

The West Window

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

 

The Bells

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

 

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

 

The South Porch

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

 

The Exterior

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

  

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

 

The history of the Ugly House (Tŷ Hyll)

is very vague. Putting a guide book together about it was very difficult, but the legend says it was built back in the 15th century by two outlawed brothers, based on the old Welsh law of tŷ unos - a house of a single night. If you could build four walls and have smoke coming out of the chimney between sunset and sunrise, you got the freehold of the land.

 

Then you had the opportunity to stand on each corner, throw an axe as far as you could and take ownership of all that land too.

 

This is what's most commonly talked about, though if you look at the size of the house there's no way it could have been built in a day. But there was a strong custom of that being a law, so perhaps something smaller along those lines was built on this site before this structure.

 

It's thought the building that stands today was built when Thomas Telford was building the A5 from London to Holyhead in the 18th century. The navvies who built the road usually camped alongside it, but we're at the point where the road crosses the Lligwy river so they would have had to stay longer to build the bridge. They worked with stone and so may have had the wherewithal to use some of it to build this house, so they could avoid camping for a while. But there's no conclusive proof as the deeds don't go back that far.

The last known resident, Edward Riley, was here from 1928 until his death in the 1960s. He was caretaker to the outdoor education centre next door and did a lot of what you'd call amateur DIY to the house, which wasn't bad, but didn't really stand the test of time. After he died it passed to his family, but they weren't local and it got used for various things, like an antiques shop, a café and tourist gift shop.

 

By the 1980s it was empty and falling to rack and ruin, until it was bought by the Snowdonia Society in 1988.

 

The Snowdonia Society was set up as a charity in 1967 by Esme and Peter Kirby, who ran it from the front room of Dyffryn Mymbyr, their farm, as featured in Thomas Firbank's book, I Bought Mountain. But after beginning to employ staff, the society needed proper accommodation so they bought the Ugly House and lovingly restored it. Peter led the painstaking refurbishment, removing each roof slate, numbering them and replacing them all exactly as they were. Basically, the whole of the inside was overhauled by volunteers.

 

The outside wasn't changed and it's still known as the Ugly House, and this might be for many reasons. Firstly, perhaps because it was built by the outlaws, who were thought to be 'ugly', dark, sinister characters hiding out in the woods.

Or perhaps it's somehow a misspelling of 'Lligwy'.

 

Or, most likely, 'hyll' doesn't actually mean ugly in old Welsh, but something more like rugged - and that makes more sense, as it is a bit rugged, but not really ugly at all. Ref-Dan James

---

www.theuglyhouse.co.uk/

Character Creation

 

The Silver Surfer is a fictional character appearing in American comic books published by Marvel Comics. The character also appears in a number of movies, television, and video game adaptations. The character was created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby and first appeared in the comic book Fantastic Four #48, published in 1966.

 

The Silver Surfer is a humanoid alien with metallic skin who can travel through space with the aid of his surfboard-like craft. Originally a young astronomer named Norrin Radd on the planet Zenn-La, he saved his homeworld from the planet devourer, Galactus, by serving as his herald. Imbued in return with some portion of Galactus' Power Cosmic, he acquired vast power, a new body and a surfboard-like craft on which he could travel faster than light.

 

Now known as the Silver Surfer, he roamed the cosmos searching for planets for Galactus to consume. When his travels took him to Earth, he met the Fantastic Four, who helped him rediscover his nobility of spirit. Betraying Galactus, he saved Earth but was exiled there as punishment. In the alternate continuity of Earth X and Universe X, Shalla-Bal, Norrin's lover and the empress of Zenn-La, is depicted as joining him as a second Silver Surfer, both serving as the twin heralds of the second Galactus Franklin Richards.

 

In 2011, IGN ranked the Silver Surfer 41st in its "Top 100 Comic Heroes" list. The Silver Surfer was portrayed by Doug Jones and voiced by Laurence Fishburne in the 2007 film Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer.

 

Jack Kirby commented on the character's creation during an interview stating "My conception of the Silver Surfer was a human being from space in that particular form. He came in when everybody began surfing — I read about it in the paper. The kids in California were beginning to surf. I couldn't do an ordinary teenager surfing so I drew a surfboard with a man from outer space on it."

 

The Silver Surfer debuted as an unplanned addition to the superhero-team comic Fantastic Four #48 (March 1966). The comic's writer-editor, Stan Lee, and its penciller and co-plotter, Jack Kirby, had, by the mid-1960s, developed a collaborative technique known as the "Marvel Method": the two would discuss story ideas, Kirby working from a brief synopsis to draw the individual scenes and plot details, with Lee finally adding the dialogue and captions. When Kirby turned in his pencil art for the story, he included a new character he and Lee had not discussed.

 

As Lee recalled in 1995, "There, in the middle of the story we had so carefully worked out, was a nut on some sort of flying surfboard". He later expanded on this, recalling, "I thought, 'Jack, this time you've gone too far'". Kirby explained that the story's agreed-upon antagonist, a god-like cosmic predator of planets named Galactus, should have some sort of herald, and that he created the surfboard "because I'm tired of drawing spaceships!" Taken by the noble features of the new character, who turned on his master to help defend Earth, Lee overcame his initial skepticism and began adding characterization. The Silver Surfer soon became a key part of the unfolding story.

 

Following the Surfer's debut, Lee and Kirby brought him back as a recurring guest in Fantastic Four #55–61, 72, and 74–77 (ranging Oct. 1966 – Aug. 1968). The character made his solo debut in the backup story of Fantastic Four Annual #5 (Nov. 1967).

 

Beginning in August 1968, Lee launched the solo title The Silver Surfer. John Buscema was penciller for the first 17 issues of the series, with Kirby returning for the 18th and final issue. The first seven issues, which included anthological "Tales of the Watcher" backup stories, were 72-page (with advertising), 25-cent "giants", as opposed to the typical 36-page, 12-cent comics of the time. Thematically, the stories dealt with the Surfer's exile on Earth and the inhumanity of man as observed by this noble yet fallen hero. Though short-lived, the series became known as one of Lee's most thoughtful and introspective works.

 

Following his series' cancellation, the Surfer made sporadic appearances as a guest star or antagonist in such comic books as Thor, The Defenders, and Fantastic Four. Lee remained partial to the Surfer, even asking other writers not to use him as a general rule, and with Kirby collaborated on a seminal 1978 graphic novel starring the character, the only original story featured in the Marvel Fireside Books series.

 

After a 1982 one-shot by writer-artist John Byrne (with scripting by Stan Lee), the Surfer appeared in his second solo ongoing title in 1987.

 

Initially written by Steve Englehart, the series was to be set on Earth and one issue was completed under this premise before Marvel agreed to let Englehart remove the long-standing restriction regarding Silver Surfer being imprisoned on Earth. This first issue was shelved and a brand new first issue was written, to set up this plot twist; the original first issue would ultimately be reprinted in Marvel Fanfare #51. The series marked the first Silver Surfer stories not written by Stan Lee, a fact which Lee was openly unhappy about. He explained:

 

"After I gave up Spider-Man then someone else did Spider-Man, and someone else did the Fantastic Four and Doctor Strange and the X-Men and all of them. I felt that it was kind of nice for me to have been the only writer of the Silver Surfer, so I felt a little bit disappointed when somebody else did it. I would have liked to have been the only person. Had I known they were absolutely going to have the book done, I would have found the time to do it myself. I didn't really have time but I would have made the time, rather than have anybody else do it. ... this is not at all a criticism of Steve [Englehart] or of Marshall [Rogers, artist on the series], it's just that it's one book that I would have liked to have always done myself."

 

Englehart introduced many villains for Silver Surfer, as well as featured space politics involving Surfer's homeworld Zenn-La, which was caught in the middle of a renewed Kree–Skrull War. However, issues regarding Englehart wanting to use his Avengers character Mantis as Silver Surfer's companion, as well as editorial refusing to let him use Thanos or other concepts conceived by Jim Starlin, led Englehart to leave the book with issue #31. Starlin took over as writer with issue #34 after several fill-in issues, and incorporated Thanos, Adam Warlock, and Drax the Destroyer into the series.

 

Under Jim Starlin and later Ron Marz, the series would receive acclaim and sales boost due to Silver Surfer's involvement with Starlin's Infinity Trilogy, with George Pérez and J. M. DeMatteis also having brief writing stints on the series as well. Additional artists included Tom Grindberg, Ron Garney, and Jon J. Muth, as well as periodic guest spots by John Buscema. The title experienced great initial success which allowed Marvel to push the character into other media, including a 1990 video game, 1992 trading card set, and 1998 animated series, as well as spinning off a variety of other comics series including Cosmic Powers, Cosmic Powers Unlimited, Captain Marvel vol. 2, and Star Masters. It ran 146 issues, through 1998. The next year it was followed by the two-issue miniseries, Silver Surfer: Loftier Than Mortals.

 

A two-issue Silver Surfer miniseries (later collected as Silver Surfer: Parable), scripted by Lee and drawn by Moebius, was published through Marvel's Epic Comics imprint in 1988 and 1989. Because of inconsistencies with other stories, it has been argued that these stories actually feature an alternate Silver Surfer from a parallel Earth. This miniseries won the Eisner Award for best finite/limited series in 1989.

 

A new ongoing Silver Surfer series began in 2003, focusing on the character's alien nature and messianic allegory. It lasted 14 issues. The Surfer later appeared in an issue of Cable & Deadpool and has been reunited three times with the superhero group the Defenders. In 2006–2007, he starred in the four-issue miniseries Annihilation: Silver Surfer and co-starred in the miniseries Heralds of Galactus, both part of the Annihilation fictional crossover.

 

In 2007, the Silver Surfer starred in a four-issue miniseries Silver Surfer: Requiem by writer J. Michael Straczynski and artist Esad Ribic. The first issue was released May 30, 2007 to coincide with the character's first movie appearance. Published under the Marvel Knights imprint, Silver Surfer: Requiem portrays the character upon learning that he is dying as the silver shell he is encased in is deteriorating.

 

This was followed by the four-issue miniseries Silver Surfer: In Thy Name, by writer Simon Spurrier and artist Tan Eng Huat.

 

After an appearance in the "Planet Hulk" storyline in 2006, the Surfer was featured in its spin-off series starring the Hulk's son Skaar in 2008, both written by Greg Pak.

 

The Silver Surfer received a sixth volume, an eponymous 5-issue miniseries written by Pak, debuting in February 2011. He was also a core cast member in The Thanos Imperative (2010), Annihilators (2011), and Fear Itself: The Deep (2011). Beginning in 2011, the Silver Surfer began appearing regularly in The Mighty Thor and a new volume of Defenders, both written by Matt Fraction.

 

In March 2014, Silver Surfer volume 7 began as part of All-New Marvel NOW! by writer Dan Slott, artist Mike Allred, and colorist Laura Allred. In January 2016 Silver Surfer volume 8 began with a special 50th-anniversary edition expected release in March 2016.

 

In 2019, a 5-part mini-series titled Silver Surfer: Black was released featuring art from Tradd Moore in collaboration with writing from Donny Cates. The series is an extension of a Guardians of the Galaxy storyline in which the Surfer was sucked into a black hole and ejected into unfamiliar space territory. This run follows the Surfer as he traverses the spaceways on a journey back home.

 

Silver Surfer later plays an important role in King in Black storyline. With the help from Hugin and Munin, Surfer helps Enigma Force to enter Earth and chose Eddie Brock/Venom as a temporary Captain Universe, to aid his fellow heroes against Knull and his army.

 

Fictional Character History

 

Norrin Radd lived on the peaceful planet Zenn-La (Deneb System, Milky Way Galaxy). The Zenn-Lavians effectively eliminated the plagues commonly associated with human life on Earth, such as hunger, disease, crime, and war. The result of their quest for advancement and scientific discovery, in effect, created a Utopian society. Norrin's parents were Jartran and Elmar Radd. Jartran was a scientist, and Norrin followed in his footsteps, constantly studying. Unable to cope with what Zenn-La had become (a society that had devolved into hedonism and, in essence, become directionless), Norrin's mother Elmar committed suicide when he was very young. Norrin always blamed himself for this.

 

After his mother's passing, Norrin was nurtured by his father to become a great man. When Norrin entered manhood, his father was implicated in the theft of ideas belonging to another scientist. When Norrin confronted his father, he admitted negligence. Disgusted by his father's actions, Norrin completely withdrew from him. Depressed by his indiscretion made public and the apparent lack of support from his son, Jartran committed suicide.

 

Much like his mother and father, Norrin also dreamed of a society that had more substance. He believed that no goals were left to be achieved on Zenn-La. He was filled with discontent and often went to the museum to watch holograms of Zenn-La's past that revolved around their wars and space travel. This often troubled his girlfriend, Shalla-Bal. She believed they had all they could ever want together, but Norrin always dreamed of more.

 

One day, their peaceful existence was threatened by the presence of Galactus, the Devourer of Worlds, who subsists on the energies provided by entire planets. The Council of Scientists let Norrin use a spaceship to approach Galactus and plead on behalf of the planet. Seeing the hopeless situation of his home planet, Norrin Radd volunteered servitude to the Devourer of Worlds in order to spare Zenn-La from obliteration. Galactus accepted. Given a fraction of the Power Cosmic, and shaped by fantasies Norrin Radd entertained as a child, Galactus transformed Norrin Radd into the Silver Surfer. The Silver Surfer's main task was to find planets with the energy to satisfy Galactus's hunger.

 

Over time it became more difficult to find planets without life on them. Knowing Norrin Radd would resist taking a life, Galactus deliberately altered Norrin's mind to repress his moral compass, allowing Norrin Radd to more efficiently carry out the grim task of finding suitable planets to feed upon.

 

A decidedly introspective character plagued by the sins of his past, Norrin Radd forever seeks redemption, endeavoring to carry out justice throughout the universe.

 

The Silver Surfer’s introduction begins with the Surfer bringing Galactus to Earth. In turn, Galactus was confronted by the Fantastic Four. Ben Grimm’s girlfriend, the blind sculptress Alicia Masters, managed to reach Norrin Radd’s more human side, ultimately awakening his conscience that Galactus managed to suppress for many years. The Surfer turned on his master much to Galactus' surprise. The Surfer was easily dispatched by Galactus and Reed Richards ultimately managed to repel Galactus with the Ultimate Nullifier.

 

In reprisal for the Silver Surfer’s rebellious actions, Galactus created an energy barrier that would prevent the Silver Surfer from leaving Earth. No longer will he venture into space or be a witness to the universe's far-reaching wonders, his heart’s desire since he was a small child.

 

Trapped on Earth

 

The Surfer’s earliest contact with humanity was routinely met with fear. Entire countries reacted aggressively when the Surfer simply flew overhead, firing weapons of mass destruction at him. It seemed the Surfer would lead a life fraught with fear and rejection from Earth no matter what the circumstances. Occasionally, when he tried to help certain individuals on Earth, this too resulted in mistrust and fear. One of his worst experiences came from trying to assist Doctor Doom who tricked the Surfer and stole his cosmic powers. After his powers were returned, he had a hard time trusting any humans. He seemed a lost soul. Although they were ungrateful, the Surfer continued to protect humanity from great threats, all the while contemplating their savage and strange behavior.

 

Eventually, the Silver Surfer became a hero on Earth and began to rediscover his own very human feelings, thanks in large part to blind sculptress Alicia Masters. He fought alongside many of Earth's heroes and joined the superhero group, the Defenders. He even began to trust again and eventually formed friendships with some of earth’s heroes he worked alongside, specifically Doctor Strange. But this was only temporary - the Silver Surfer was not meant to be confined to such a small space.

 

But the Surfer longed to be free of his prison, to soar infinite space as he was meant to. The Surfer made repeated attempts to escape the impenetrable barrier Galactus placed around the planet. He once traveled through time to try to escape the insanity of Earth and did so successfully, only to find himself in a future where all civilizations had been destroyed. Faced with choices of being free in a dystopic, future Earth society or returning to Earth to live among a group of people who hated him, he chose the latter. He attempted to escape with the help of physicist Al Harper, but this failed as well. He was allowed to leave the barrier by Mephisto, only to find that Mephisto had kidnapped his love Shalla Bal therefore compelling his return to Earth once again to find her, while Mephisto reveled in his frustration.

 

Years later, with the help of Reed Richards, he successfully escaped. His first action was to go home, to Zenn-La. When he arrived, he found the paradise of Zenn-La destroyed and the residents claiming it to be the Surfer's fault. Galactus had returned and consumed the energies after the Surfer betrayed him. When he tried to find Shalla Bal, he learned she was kidnapped by Mephisto once again. In order to save Shalla Bal he returned to Earth, only to become trapped there once again. This would not be the last time Mephisto attempted to use Shalla Bal against the Surfer and he next tried to get the Surfer to destroy S.H.I.E.L.D., but eventually failed once again.

 

Free at Last

 

With the Fantastic Four's help, he was able to escape the barrier. The Silver Surfer made peace with Galactus when he saved his current herald, Frankie Raye, from the Skrulls. Galactus lifted the barrier and the Surfer was free to roam the spaceways once again, something he had long yearned for since his confinement. He wished to never return to Earth, the home of his imprisonment, ever again.

 

Once the barrier was lifted, the Surfer immediately thought of Zenn-La and his love Shalla Bal. He returned to find that after breaking his promise to Galactus to serve him, Galactus had returned to Zenn-La and consumed its energy. But the residents managed to escape his wrath and rebuild, with the help of Shalla Bal and the Power Cosmic he had granted her when Mephisto brought her to Earth to torment the Surfer. He proposed to Shalla Bal, now the Empress of Zenn-La, but she declined. With no place to truly call home, the Surfer returned to space.

 

Surfer then was attacked by the Elders of the Universe. With the help of Mantis, he learned of their plot to kill Galactus and destroy reality. Together, the already powerful beings had gathered the Infinity Gems. He managed to stop their plot with the help of Mantis and Frankie Raye. Eternity admitted to Galactus that if not for the Surfer's help, the universe may have been destroyed. But this turned out to not be the end of the Elders' threat to Galactus, as Death would not allow the Elders Galactus consumed to die. This meant that they survived inside Galactus making him very ill. With the help of Mr. Fantastic and Invisible Woman, they traveled to the Magick Realm to retrieve the Infinity Gems. In-Betweener interfered and traveled back to Galactus to kill him. Instead, he sent Galactus back to Magick Realm. Silver Surfer appealed to Chaos and Master Order of what the In-Betweener had done and they freed the Elders from a very angry Galactus.

 

Alignment with the Skrulls

 

The Surfer soon found himself in the middle of the Second Kree/Skrull War. At first, he remained neutral but through a Skrull trick, he ended up joining their side. He had helped the Super Skrull to escape the Eternals and helped to restore the Skrulls shape-shifting powers. The Kree knew of the trickery, but could not simply forgive the Surfer and made him their enemy. He was uneasy with his alliance when Reptyl joined their side and the Super Skrull was killed. Empress S'byll proved to not be as treacherous as most Skrulls after all and she and the Surfer attacked Hala themselves and defeated Nenora, the Supreme Leader. A truce was made between the races and the Surfer again soared the universe alone.

 

First Meeting with Thanos

 

The Surfer then met his next threat and one of his worse enemies, Thanos. Thanos was resurrected to kill half of the universe. He proved to be a very powerful and intelligent being. He faked his death so that the Surfer would not meddle in his affairs while he sought out the Infinity Gems. Thanos has the Surfer imprisoned on Dynamo City to further preoccupy him. After his escape, he met up with Thanos who had the Infinity Gauntlet. He stole the Surfer's soul and kept it in the Soul Gem. He meets Adam Warlock in the Soul World and, with his help, is able to free himself.

 

Infinity Gauntlet

 

With Thanos now in possession of the Infinity Gauntlet, he thought himself a god. To please Death, he instantly wiped out half of all life in the universe. The Surfer traveled to Earth to gain the help of any hero he could find. He was able to gather the help of Doctor Strange, the Avengers and some of Earth's mightiest heroes. Adam Warlock exited the Soul World and was best suited to lead the heroes against this growing threat.

 

The Surfer had a special part in Warlock's plans. While Thanos was distracted by Earth's heroes and the gathered cosmic deities, the Surfer was to take the Gauntlet from Thanos. When the time came, he was noticed and failed to capture the gems from Thanos. After the gauntlet is taken by Nebula, the heroes need Thanos' help to get it from her. The Surfer will not accept this and attacks Thanos. Doctor Strange makes a dimension for them to fight in to settle it with each other. They battle medieval style with limited powers and the Surfer emerges victorious but refuses to kill Thanos. When he turns his back, Thanos attacks him and the Surfer yields. The heroes eventually gained control over the gauntlet and it went to Adam Warlock.

 

During the Infinity Gauntlet, the Surfer faces many trials and tests. In the realm of perception the Surfer was able to destroy the demons of guilt, denial and doubt he harbored throughout his lifetime. He was able to get forgiveness for his past associations with family and love. He was also able to forgive himself. The only ones to not forgive the Surfer are the millions he brought death to as Galactus' herald. The guilt for this was something the Surfer never knew since Galactus had blocked that in his mind. He had Galactus turn the guilt in his brain back on and the Surfer could almost not bear it. He overcame this. In another reality he was able to defeat the Shadow Surfer, the dark side of himself, to finally become whole.

 

Infinity War

 

When the Silver Surfer learned Galactus had traveled back to Earth he was instantly concerned. He met Galactus who was seemingly abducting Doctor Strange. He tried to stop him and Galactus pitted Nova against him. Doctor Strange stopped their battle and told the Surfer he was willing to help Galactus and that the Surfer should help as well. They were able to trace the source of energy fluctuations that Galactus was concerned about and traveled toward their origin. This is the beginning of the Infinity War.

 

The Surfer and Nova succeeded in protecting the ship. After this, the Surfer played a little part in defeating the Magus and fought with Earth's heroes against their evil counterparts, the doppelgangers. Magus was eventually defeated by Adam Warlock with the brilliant planning of Thanos.

 

The Silver Surfer learned of Galactus' dismissal of Nova in a harsh way - by being attacked by his new herald Morg. Morg soundly defeated the Surfer and left him unconscious. The Surfer knew this new herald to be unworthy of the Power Cosmic but was unable to face him alone. In addition, Galactus blocked his energy from all former heralds, making him nearly impossible to find.

 

Surfer gained the assistance of Firelord despite their previous differences. Together they found Nova and resurrected Air-Walker. They all gained the cooperation of Terrax also, after battling him. Together all the former heralds of Galactus came upon Morg. Terrax realized instantly that they together were still no match for Morg, who had recently augmented his powers further through a mystical well. He suggested the Surfer speak to Galactus. The Surfer approached Galactus, but he would not listen and became frustrated with the Surfer's constant meddling. Galactus and the Surfer fought and naturally Galactus emerged the victor. The Surfer was able to finally reach Galactus by telling him that although he could kill him and all his former heralds, someone will replace them to fight the evil that is Morg. This would go on forever. Galactus agreed to remove Morg's cosmic powers.

 

The Surfer arrived back on the battlefield to find nearly all the heralds downed by Morg's might. Nova managed to seemingly kill Morg, but it was all a sham and Morg attacked her when she turned her back. Nova died in the Surfer's arms. The Surfer was furious but before he could get to Morg they were stopped by Galactus. He removed Morg's Power Cosmic, but he still remained a powerful enemy. The heralds fought him and the Surfer still refused to help kill him, not wanting to sink to Morg's level. The Surfer tried to stop him, but Terrax kills Morg. At a loss, the Surfer said a few words and sent Nova's body into a nearby sun. He regretted that he would never see her again.

 

While the Surfer searches for Terrax, he comes across Ganymede, who believes him to be one of Tyrant's servants. After a brief battle, the Surfer convinces her that he knows nothing of this one called Tyrant. She tells the Surfer of Tyrant's threat to the universe. Fortunately, the trail the Surfer was following to Terrax also seems to be leading to Tyrant.

 

Upon arrival at Tyrant's Fortress, they are attacked by Tyrant's robotic guards, which the Surfer easily dispatches. But Tyrant has plans for them and appears and easily defeats them both. When the Surfer awakens he is attached to an energy-draining device along with Ganymede, Gladiator, Beta Ray Bill, Terrax, and to his surprise, Morg. Tyrant is siphoning their energy for himself and to power his colossal ship.

 

The next victim of Tyrant is brought in to be attached to the machine, the Surfer's friend the Jack of Hearts. Rather than be captured, Jack releases the energy in his armor and is able to free Tyrant's prisoners. They engage Tyrant, with the exception of Morg and Terrax, who fight each other. Even their combined might is not enough to stop Tyrant, who only stops the battle upon the arrival of Galactus. Galactus allows Tyrant to keep Morg in exchange for the release of the others. The Surfer asks why he would deal so lightly with Tyrant, but Galactus replies he will deal with him at a time of his choosing. The Surfer then takes the others to safety.

 

Infinity Crusade

 

When the Goddess uses the power of 30 cosmic cubes, she gains control of some heroes susceptible to her message. This begins the Infinity Crusade. She manages to brainwash the Surfer into becoming one of her Holy Guard to help create a universe without evil. At first. he is a faithful follower until she asks him to begin an attack on the remaining heroes of Earth. He refuses to fight his friends and breaks her control over him. This causes his companion and fellow member of the guard Firelord to turn on him. The Surfer does not wish to harm Firelord but he does what he must to stop the Goddess and her plot.

 

On his way to warn the heroes, he is brought by Thanos to his ship. He agrees to aide Thanos, as the Surfer is instrumental to Warlock and Thanos' plan. He is to be a diversion for the attack on Goddess' planet Paradise Omega. He attempts a dangerous mission to absorb more energy than he ever has from the Sun, becoming a living bomb. Absorbing all this power made him lose his mind and Drax helped to guide him to the moon. He is able to destroy the moon of Paradise Omega and cause the distraction.

 

The Surfer survived the blast and fell to the planets surface unconscious. He awoke being attacked by Holy Guard members Storm and Wonder Man. Once his power returned he defeated them and tried to get them to realize they followed a madwoman. They remained faithful to the Goddess, but left the Surfer without any further confrontation after he healed Wonder Man's injuries. After the defeat of the Goddess, the Surfer is relieved by her plans being foiled, but at the same time remorseful of the return of evil and violence into the universe.

 

Blood and Thunder

 

After having met Beta Ray Bill while they were both held captive by Tyrant, the Surfer flew to find him and help aid him against a crazed Thor. He found Bill beaten by Thor and stopped him from killing him. The Surfer then took on the Thunder God and fought a hard battle, but was defeated. Adam Warlock then intervened and saved the Surfer. Together they assaulted Thor, but to no avail. The Surfer and Warlock were nearly killed. Luckily, Warlock showed the ability to control the Surfer's board since they had shared each others souls during the Infinity Gauntlet.

 

They sought the aid of Dr. Strange and together they all tried to stop Thor from destroying Asgard. They eventually sought the assistance of Thanos, who helped fight Thor while the Surfer fought the Dark Valkyrie. The Surfer defeated her and Thanos was able to trap Thor in an energy field. With the help of Doctor Strange and the Infinity Watch, they were able to stop Thor's madness.

 

Down to Earth

 

The Silver Surfer once again returned to Earth to go to Rick Jones' wedding. He went to inform the Fantastic Four of Nova's death. After a scuffle with the Human Torch, he agreed to help the Four find a seismic anomaly deep in the Earth. Through the caverns under Monster Island they discovered the source, that seemed to lead them right where it wanted them. Deep in the Earth, they find Nova, alive and well. Back at Four Freedoms Plaza, tests confirm that it is indeed his former love. They leave to soar the stars together.

 

Nova leads the Surfer to many places. They discover a hidden treasure of myth together and Nova tries to convince him to accept their riches. He turns the treasure into sand when Terrax tries to take it from them. Nova then tries to convince the Surfer to take the Champion's mystical wristlets to increase his power, but instead he destroys them. When Nova is kidnapped by some slave traders, the Surfer acts to save her and finally realize his love for her. When he pledges to her to be with her, Nova changes into her true form- Mephisto. Again he uses love to try to defeat the Surfer and is now in possession of the Surfer's soul.

 

He brings the Surfer to Hell and tells him to make himself comfortable. The Surfer still has hope and tries to fight for his freedom. He is shown that his parents souls are in the possession of Mephisto, which pushes him over the top. He does something he pledged never to do and kills Mephisto. He releases his parents souls, but again finds himself alone. Mephisto, living and well, is greatly satisfied over the outcome of his manipulations.

 

The Curse of the Power Cosmic

 

After the events with Mephisto, the Surfer returned to Zenn-la for the only comfort in his life, Shalla Bal. But to his surprise she had found a new lover, the Surfer's half-brother Fennan Radd. He soon realized that his great cosmic power has only brought him sorrow and met with Galactus. He asked Galactus to remove his power, but Galactus refused, telling him he is important to the universe. The Surfer sought out other means to have his power removed.

 

In space he comes across a planet that he once helped to destroy. He becomes suicidal, planning to use every last ounce of his Power Cosmic to destroy the world and it's memory. He soon decides it would be better to go out using his powers for good and travels to the planet Lathkolas, which has advanced technologically and in the process destroyed it's own ecology. He uses his Power Cosmic to grow life on the planet as he did on Zenn-La. But he loses control of his power and advances the planet billions of years in a matter of moments. In the end, the planet and all life on it is dead. This is more than the Surfer can handle and he losses control of his emotions.

 

He begins to fight violence with violence, in the process severely beating the Super Skrull. He finally comes to his senses and travels to a planet called Tanus, that is in total anarchy, and tries to help them. Soon, a ship from Earth arrives and inside of it Doctor Doom. He makes a deal with the Surfer to take the suffering away from these people in exchange for his Power Cosmic. The Surfer agrees and Doom's machines are able to siphon all his energies, leaving him still silver, but mortal. Doom then destroys the planet, claiming the people no longer suffer. The Surfer is now powerless and is taken captive.

 

It is revealed that this is not Doctor Doom himself, but one of his Doombots that set out to get the Surfer's power right after Doom had lost the Power Cosmic the first time. The robot now plans to kill his master and the Fantastic Four, but first he plans to kill the Surfer, ejecting him into space. Legacy arrives on the scene and uses every ounce of his power to revive the Surfer. Upon his revival his powers are restored and he chases after the Doombot, siphoning his power back from it and destroying it.

 

Immediately after this, the Surfer senses his former master is in danger. He leaves Legacy behind to go to Galactus' aide. He arrives to Galactus' ship to find that Galactus and Tyrant are having their long-awaited battle. Morg has found the Ultimate Nullifier, which he is using to torture Tyrant. But the Nullifier is about to have it's energy unleashed. Galactus tells the Surfer to leave the ship before he is destroyed. The Surfer does not wish for his former master to be destroyed, but Galactus insists. The Surfer barely escapes before Galactus' ship is destroyed along with Galactus and all aboard.

 

The Star Masters

 

Upon hearing the intergalactic transmission that Quasar is responsible for the deaths of hundreds in a peaceful organization known as the Charter, he goes to investigate. He finds Beta Ray Bill and together they seek out Quasar. Once found, the Surfer can instantly tell that Quasar speaks the truth and did not commit this heinous crime. Together they become the Star Masters to find the true culprit.

 

They soon find they have two problems: the Charter's Cosmic Commandos are after Quasar and a massive asteroid is about to collide with Earth. With the Commandos being no match for the Surfer, he is able to concentrate on the asteroid. With his knowledge of the barrier Galactus erected to imprison him there, he is able to use it to destroy the asteroid. But inside lies a tiny black hole that would also destroy Earth. It is stopped by Beta Ray when he transports it out of Earth's path.

 

Two of the Commandos, Morfex and Xenith, soon ally themselves with the Surfer and the Star Masters and they continue their search for the one responsible for the deaths and the attack on Earth. When they enter the Charter's ship, known as the Hub, they are ambushed and captured. They are thrown in the Cauldron of Conversion to die, but Quasar is able to protect them.

 

After their escape, the Surfer goes to find Beta Ray Bill, who disappeared after being thrown in the Cauldron. He goes to Asgard to find Bill dead. With Odin's help, the Surfer is able to resurrect Bill, but with part of his Power Cosmic. They return to the others where Bill is able to communicate with the contents of the Cauldron. It is a sentient virus that will destroy any race that has become a part of it.

 

Through this they learn the truth and the one behind the plot is the Axi-Tun leader Lord Votan. After Quasar is cleared of his charges, they travel to Tun to detain Votan. But he is not going down without a fight, and uses his power to sap their wills and capture them. Tana Nile uses her powers to transfer the remaining will power of the Surfer and the others to Quasar, who is able to escape. Together they are able to defeat Votan.

 

Planet Hulk

 

The Surfer was next controlled for fighting in the Red King's arena on Sakaar against the Hulk (who was sent out in space by the Illuminati). The Hulk, recognizing that the Surfer was his friend, destroyed the obedience disc that controlled him. The Silver Surfer was free and used his power cosmic to destroy the other alien gladiator's obedience disc to escape the arena.

 

When Norrin offered The Hulk to take him back to earth, he declined because he wanted to liberate Sakaar from the Red King's tyranny. The Surfer sensing the destruction of Xandar assisted in relief efforts of nearby planets until summoned by his former master, Galactus.

 

Annihilation

 

During the events of Annihilation, the Silver Surfer became aware of the invasion of his universe after the destruction of Xandar. He was able to save Air-Walker from the Seekers, who were trying to capture all of Galactus' Heralds for their leader Annihilus. He met up with Firelord and Red Shift but they were soon met by Stardust. Galactus had summoned the Surfer. He left to speak with his former master.

 

Galactus told his former Herald of the recent freeing of Aegis and Tenebrous from Kyln, two of his adversaries from early in universal history. Galactus asked Surfer to stand with him as his Herald once more. The Surfer accepted and his power increased and augmented, he was quickly tested by Ravenous, agent of Annihilus. The Surfer dispatched him easily.

 

Shortly thereafter Tenebrous and Aegis ambushed Galactus and his herald, striking them both down. The Annihilation Wave arrived and picked up the pieces, taking both Galactus and the Silver Surfer prisoner. Silver Surfer was held in a stasis sphere while the Power Cosmic was drained from both him and his master through technology given to Annihilus by Thanos.

 

After killing Thanos, Drax realized that he had no one to unlock the machine that kept Galactus captive because Thanos had set the power levels on the machine to his own level so that no one could unlock it. He than discovered the Silver Surfer was also being held in stasis. He freed the Silver Surfer while hoping that the Surfer still had enough power left to outmatch Thanos' power level that was set on the machine. The Silver Surfer was severely weak at the time but he still succeeded in overpowering the machine (this may be due to his latest power increase Given to him by Galactus), this was a great accomplishment for the Silver Surfer. Galactus than decimated the Annihilation Wave.

 

After this the Surfer went to Aegis and Tenebrous in an attempt to hold them at the Crunch until Galactus arrived. He was no match for them and they quickly brought him to near death. In a risky maneuver, he surfed the energies of the Crunch and was able to kill Aegis and Tenebrous with it. Nearly dead, Galactus healed the Surfer, amazed that the Surfer could accomplish such as task. The Silver Surfer continues to serve as Galactus' Herald alongside Stardust.

 

The New Fantastic Four

 

When Stardust found an energy source to fulfill their masters hunger, the Silver Surfer used his great tracking abilities to locate the source, who was hiding it from them. The source turned out to be Epoch, the protector of cosmic awareness. But there was a problem, the Fantastic Four needed Epoch, who they believed had stolen the body of their friend, Gravity.

 

At first, the Surfer was not interested in what they had to say, but after a brief battle with the Black Panther, who had temporarily taken Mr. Fantastic's spot on the roster, he decided to listen. He offered them time to retrieve their friend, but Epoch was to be fed to his master. After speaking with the Thing, the Surfer explained that he had come to the realization that Galactus is beyond good and evil and the Surfer planned to do anything necessary to feed his master.

 

It turned out that Epoch had taken Gravity in order to resurrect him as Protector of the Universe. But Gravity would not allow Epoch to be consumed and neither would the Fantastic Four. When Black Panther arrived back to the battle, he was equipped with a device similar to Doctor Doom's that siphoned the Surfer's Power Cosmic. His hand to hand abilities were no contest for the Black Panther and he was defeated.

 

With the heralds of Galactus beaten, they still had no hope of defeating Galactus. Instead, Gravity used all the power Epoch gave him to feed Galactus, who restored the Surfer's power and agreed to spare Epoch.

 

His tracking abilities were needed once again, this time by the Fantastic Four that just battled with him. They needed him to follow the trail of the contrasepsis, the creatures that fix repairs in reality. The trail lead to Eternity's plane of existence where they found the problem and what was causing Eternity's death and the abundance of contrasepsis. The Surfer helped fight the endless hordes while Doctor Strange preformed surgery on Eternity to save him.

 

Fall of Orbucen

 

After two stars suddenly went out without notice, the people of Orbucen realized the sign of fate: Galactus was drawing near their planet. Their worst fears materialized as the Silver Surfer arrived at the planet, scouting it for his master’s needs, not long afterward. Five days after the extinguishing of the two starts, Galactus arrived in Orbucen and begun setting up his equipment.

 

Once Richard Rider, a.k.a. Nova answering to Orbucen’s distress call arrived there, Galactus’ siphons had already penetrated the planet’s crust, a fore sign that the planet’s end drew nearer with each passing moment. In an attempt to help the people of Orbucen in every way possible, Nova assisted in the evacuation of the planet and the embarking of the population in arks, all the while stumbling upon Harrow, the shadow that life casts, a mysterious parasitic organism that filled its hosts with homicidal tendencies.

 

After containing Harrow, Nova was informed that the moment Galactus’ feeding process begun, an electromagnetic disruption reached critical level, simultaneously causing a malfunction in all the arks that would drive Orbucen’s people to safety. Knowing there was no time to repair it, Nova set course to persuade Galactus to refrain from consuming the planet, for a few hours, at least.

 

Galactus did not even notice Nova’s pleading, but the same could not be said for the Silver Surfer, who almost immediately grabbed Nova by the neck, and their battle commenced. At first, due to the Surfer’s swift attack, Nova was unaware of what hit him, but he soon regained composure and tried to reason with him; the Surfer however, showed no intention of stopping. After a relatively short fight in which Nova found himself outclassed, the duo finally landed on Orbucen again, at which point, the Surfer gave his reasoning: he did not wish his master to see him fraternizing with “lower” life forms, and took the fight away in order to speak to Nova, freely.

 

Expressing his respect for him, the Surfer advised Richard to leave the planet. Nova explained the situation with the malfunctioning arks to the Surfer, who simply locked the drive tech and made the ships operational again by merely blinking, much to Nova’s astonishment. The Surfer then once again advised Nova to drive the arks to safety and then abandon the planet, for his own good.

 

Later on, after realising Harrow had escaped and went on yet another killing spree, Nova wasted precious time attempting to stop him, and as a result the electromagnetic disruption from Galactus’ instruments became too intense for him to open a stargate, and escape. In an act of despair, Nova rushed into Galactus’ vessel from within the energy siphons. Inside the vessel, he detected once again , and located his physical body for the first time in a floorboard. After a short fight, the Surfer appeared, freed Nova from Harrow’s clutches, and revealed Harrow’s presence to Galactus’ who in return disintegrated Harrow, as a punishment. Galactus spared Nova, by teleporting him and the Surfer five light-years away from Orbucen. The Surfer bid Nova goodbye, but also advised him to refrain from crossing paths with him, or Galactus in the future, before returning to his master once again.

 

Godhunter

 

After the consummation of his home planet by Galactus, and the death of his people, Beta Ray Bill decided to pursue the Great Devourer, and put up a complex scheme in order to defeat him: seeing that his power was lilliputian in comparison to Galactus’ might, the cunning Bill decided to attempt and destroy the planets Galactus chose for consumption, in order to eventually starve him. That lead to an inevitable conflict, at first with Stardust, and, eventually with the Silver Surfer himself, whom Galactus dispatched to take care of Bill’s nuisance, after Bill destroyed a planet named I’Than IX.

 

The Surfer pursued Bill’s ship, Skuttlebutt, all the while trying to reason with Bill. Bill, finally emerging from his ship, refused to hear to the Surfer’s pleadings, and attacked him, hammering him away. The Surfer swiftly recuperated, using his trusted board in order to stun Bill, and then quickly managed to overwhelm Bill in hand to hand combat, while expressing his sadness for having to fight his old friend and comrade.

 

After persuading Bill to submit, the Surfer tried, once again, to reason with him, and explain that while he could understand Bill’s loss concerning Corbin, Galactus was a force of nature. Skuttlebutt subtly following their exchange from afar, took advantage of the Surfer’s hesitation during his conversation with Bill in order to strike and enable Bill to run away.

 

Later on, Bill crossed paths with the Surfer again, in an unexplored planet, while Bill was trying to locate Galactus once again. Bill’s initial strike was repelled by the Surfer, who, this time, refused to do more than simply speak. Hesitantly, Bill accepted to listen to him. Expanding on their earlier conversation, the Surfer outlined the events that occurred during Annihilation, and how Galactus’ power was so diminished, that it would not be long before his life would end, taking the sheer number of his pursuers into account. The Surfer also revealed that if Galactus’ existence where to end, all the life within forty-two light-years would cease to exist. Bill reluctantly accepted to permit Galactus to feed in order to sustain himself. It was at that time that the people of I’Than and their assembled fleet attacked the weakened Galactus, Surfer and Stardust, and were near-victory until Bill himself intervened and helped the Devourer complete his sustaining process revitalize himself and destroy the opposing fleet. After the event, Galactus and Bill came to a mutual understanding, and Galactus dispatched both his heralds to find him new planets to feed upon, once again.

 

Return of the Silver Savage

 

Upon learning of the Old Power of Sakaar, the Surfer travels to the planet in order to warn the residents of Galactus' coming. If Galactus were to consume the planet, he may not need to feed for millennia and billions of lives will be spared. On the planet he finds Skaar, the son of Hulk, about to destroy the world. Skaar had obtained the Old Power for himself and saw that to save Sakaar, all life must be wiped out.

 

The Surfer stops him before he can do this, and with his Power Cosmic, returns the Old Power to the planet. But to do this, the Surfer used much of his power and Skaar is able to put an obedience disc on him. The Silver Savage is now a slave of Skaar, who rides with the Red King to destroy the forces of Axeman Bone. In the battle, the Surfer still worries for innocent lives and tries to persuade Skaar to help save them, but Skaar is only interested in killing Axeman. Only then does Caiera come from the Old Power and try to stop Skaar's destructive path. She gains control over the Surfer's obedience disc and has him show Skaar what it is to be a god.

 

The Surfer fuses himself with Skaar and brings him to Galactus. Skaar, acting as herald, tries to stop Galactus from consuming Sakaar, only to watch in horror as Galactus does so anyway. The Surfer then sends Skaar back to Sakaar, explaining that this is only a vision of things to come. But Skaar still refuses to evacuate. He planned to use the Old Power and force more than Galactus can handle into him, making Galactus hungrier than ever. Realizing that showing Skaar what will happen did not change Skaar, Caiera opens a portal and sends Skaar away from the planet. There will be no evacuation, and Galactus had arrived.

 

In her last moments, Caiera is able to get some of the ancient stone ships into the sky and save as many as she can. Galactus consumes Sakaar, his hunger absent and he falls into a deep sleep. But before Skaar goes through the portal, he shoots out a beam of the Old Power into Galactus as promised, waking him and making him crave the Old Power. The Surfer tries to calm Galactus, but with a gesture he sends the Surfer across the universe, having enough power to no longer need a herald. The Surfer begins to warn other worlds with the Old Power to prepare for the coming of Galactus.

 

The "Death" of Galactus

 

Galactus eventually released the Old Power from his being and the Silver Surfer once again returned to his side as herald. On Earth, the Surfer discovered something disturbing - the corpse of Galactus buried beneath the surface. He was immediately able to trace some possible suspects - Mr. Fantastic and the other members of the Fantastic Four. The Surfer informed his master and went to the Baxter Building to speak with Richards.

 

Mr. Fantastic revealed that the Galactus he buried was from the future and was killed by the New Defenders and brought back through time to create the Galactus Engine. Using Galactus' power to save the remaining inhabitants of their world, it caused Galactus' death. In order to prevent this future death, Galactus sent the Surfer to summon more involved as they planned to go to Nu-World and question those involved.

 

The Thanos Imperative

 

Sensing the coming danger to the universe, the Surfer preceded Galactus to an area known as the Fault, a massive fissure in space caused by the War of Kings. On the other side of the Fault was a twisted, undead universe known as the Cancerverse. With help from the Magus, the inhabitants began their invasion into the universe with their goal being to remove death from the universe and rewrite reality.

 

While Galactus, the Celestials and many other abstract cosmic beings lined the edge of the Fault, the Surfer teamed up with his old friend Quasar and Nova to help assist in the defense of the universe. But things were about to get much worse, as the Cancerverse had it's own version of the extremely powerful Galactus Engine.

 

While the abstracts continued their fight at the Fault, Nova recruited a party of the universe's heaviest hitters, including the Silver Surfer, to face the evil leader of the invasion - a corrupted version of Captain Mar-Vell, known as Lord Mar-Vell. Nova Prime and the Surfer, along with Ronan, Gladiator, Beta Ray Bill and Quasar rushed Mar-Vell's location. The Surfer showed his impressive powers by easily defeating two of the most powerful members of the Revengers at the same time - Iron Man and Thor. He faced Mar-Vell himself along with Nova, but Mar-Vell blasted a hole through Surfer's board and easily defeated Nova. Their battle was eventually cut short when Mar-Vell became aware of the Avatar of Death's location. As he departed, he created a massive explosion to destroy his enemies.

 

Quasar was able to protect the other heroes from their deaths and the Surfer returned with the others to continue the battle at the Fault. When Death returned to the Cancerverse, she destroyed it's inhabitants, causing the universe to collapse on itself, thus closing the Fault. The Surfer then attended a memorial service on Hala for those who were lost in the battle.

 

Chaos War

 

Again, the universe was in danger of complete obliteration. The evil god Mikaboshi planned to destroy all of reality by defeating and taking the power of all the gods and skyfathers of the universe. Hercules, recently resurrected, formed a new God Squad. Needing more power for their team, he used his new powers to summon Galactus and the Silver Surfer. The Surfer was enraged, as Galactus was just about to feed and now he was on Earth, a planet the Surfer has saved many times. Luckily, it seemed Galactus agreed to help with this great threat and remain with the team, which included Thor, Daimon Hellstrom, Sersi and others.

 

When they faced Mikaboshi, he's power proved to be far greater than anticipated. Even the gods he controlled shared in his great power, giving Zeus the ability to topple even the mighty Galactus. The God Squad was forced to retreat.

 

The Silver Surfer was among other members of the squad that were halted in their escape and trapped between realities. All that remained - including Hellstorm, Sersi, and Venus - were all in between mortal and god, which the Surfer deemed no coincidence. They ended up in Takamagahara, the land of the Japanese gods, where Mikaboshi had originally been trapped. They began to form a plan to trap him once again, but he sent his minions and opened the gate to his former prison, releasing the evil inside.

 

The team was nearly trapped in nothingness, but the Surfer resisted and helped the other members to resist as well. Again, their power was not enough and they were forced to retreat, the Panther God of Wakanda seemingly sacrificing himself to help them escape.

 

Back on Earth

 

After the events of Chaos war, Silver Surfer takes Galactus to Sol (our sun) to feed and rejuvenate, thus removing one billion years out of the sun's life span. He visits Earth and observes the usual chaos while contemplating his role in events passed and his inability to feel human emotions. Flying over Mexico, he witnesses a couple about to get shot down by military men for stealing money. He intervenes, subduing the men and healing the woman from the brink of death but is unable to save the man. The O.A.S first contact squad of the Mexican military are alerted of his presence and send Suzi Endo to initiate a diplomatic greeting. However, the High Evolutionary arrives and attacks the Surfer, leeching him of his precious Power Cosmic. Left powerless and fragile in his human state, the Surfer is taken into custody by the Mexican government and is put under the care of Suzi Endo. He awakens strapped to machines, nearly driving him mad as he is used to flying free amongst the stars, but Suzi creates a diversion and the Surfer escapes from his bonds.

 

They escape the facility on a land-skimmer and briefly share a kiss as Norrin remembers his usual emotions towards Shalla Bal given Endo's remarkable resemblance to her. They find the High Evolutionary who has taken one of Galactus' Star Spheres and has begun terraforming the desert into a lush jungle before they can enter it. They find themselves threatened by the ever-expanding jungle which threatens to kill those inside it. Norrin is reminded of his early days as the Silver Surfer and the way pre-sentient life on a planet seemed to bond to each other and gain sentience when faced with danger. He shares another kiss with Endo and tells her it is his job to stop the madness the High Evolutionary has started and his to do alone. She convinces him that she can help and arranges a diversion to get them on the ship. Once inside Endo tries to find a way to the High Evolutionary but is somehow imbued with the remaining portion of his power cosmic.

 

The High Evolutionary appears and tells Norrin how all his life he has brought death and destruction under a supposedly right cause. He then shows- with the appearance of the old man who has been saved and renewed after receiving a portion of his power- how his Power Cosmic can be used to create and restore life instead of tear it down. He requests the aid of a herald to aid him in his cause - bring life to dead worlds. Norrin declines but to his surprise he sees the invitation was not directed to him but to Suzi. She accepts.

 

Norrin did not trust her judgement. He felt the Power Cosmic was his burden to bare. With this he rams Suzi out of the star ship to the jungle below in a fall that is sure to kill them both. Luckily, she makes use of her new powers and develops wings and lands them in the jungle where the other survivors are. She tells him the Suzi he knew is no more and joins the High Evolutionary as they move to the moon. Frustrated, Norrin takes his anger out on a pack of mutant wolves that recently appeared and convinces the rest of the survivors to flee. He is rescued by the Future Foundation and the Mexican military who destroy the jungle with help from Sue Storm. They use a Future Foundation craft to go to the moon where High Evolutionary has begun wide-scale terraforming on the moon.

 

In space, Reed devises a plan to separate the newly bonded Power Cosmic from Suzi back to Norrin. The plan works and most of the Power Cosmic is given to Norrin. He is once again transformed to the Silver Surfer and confronts Suzi ... with a kiss. Somehow, his powers have been restored but his emotions remain intact. Unused to these emotions, he nearly turns on his friends who are trying to stop Suzi and the Evolutionary from their task, which will surely do great damage to the Earth.

 

When Galactus awakens from his rejuvenation, he plans to feed on the Moon. Realizing that his duty will always be that of Galactus' herald, he is forced to chose between those emotions and continuing to serve cosmic consonance. He chooses the latter, taking the remaining Power Cosmic from Suzi and departing with his master. He leaves behind a single flower for her and Reed tells her that as long as he has known him, the Silver Surfer has never been as happy as he was when he was with her.

 

The Annihilators

 

The Surfer joins a group of "cosmic police," the Annihilators. Their plan is to fight cosmic-level threats to the galaxy. It is surprising that Galactus would let his Herald go gallivanting off on his own adventures when he is supposed to be looking for planets for the Devourer to eat, but in any case, he fights with them in their first adventure against Klobok, a Skrull seeking to bring the Dire Wraiths back from Limbo. During this mission, Silver Surfer combined his energy manipulation powers with those of Quasar and Ronan to fuse 2 stars.

 

It is unclear whether this story arc occurs before or after the High Evolutionary storyline. In any case, it must be before the Galactus Seed, since he is not shown to be weakened even when he is fighting at such a great distance from Asgard. It must also be before the Annihilators: Earthfall series, since he is apparently no longer part of the group at that time, presumably because during Earthfall, he is tethered to the World Tree.

 

Powers and Abilities

 

In order for Norrin Radd to perform his duty as his herald, Galactus gives Norrin Radd a fraction of his cosmic powers. Possessing him with the Power Cosmic, which is the core from which his other abilities manifest from, Silver Surfer can manipulate the 4 fundamental forces of the universe (electromagnetism, gravity, strong nuclear force and weak nuclear force), by varying degrees. He is one of the most powerful Heralds of Galactus, and the most powerful member of the Annihilators. Tyrant once said that Silver Surfer was the most powerful member of a group that included Gladiator, Beta Ray Bill, Terrax and Morg, and Ikonn considered him an Alpha plus-level threat, just like Beta Ray Bill, Gladiator and Quasar.

 

Invulnerability

 

The Silver Surfer's skin is nearly impossible to penetrate, capable of withstanding extreme pressures and temperatures. He can travel through the core of a star and even through black holes without injury or disorientation. He has also been able to withstand punches from She-Hulk without any damage or pain, as well as attacks from the likes of Thor, Hulk, Beta Ray Bill, Namor, Wonder Man, Vision, the Thing, Drax, Korg, Abomination, Champion, Durok, Blastaar, Ravenous, Nova Prime, Quasar, Firelord, Terrax, Morg, Ronan, Super-Skrull, Cable with his powers fully unleashed, Iron Man and Human Torch well enough.

 

Regeneration

 

The Silver Surfer can regenerate parts of himself with the Power Cosmic, including his board, at will.

 

Super Strength

 

The Power Cosmic gives the Silver Surfer incredible strength. At a baseline, the Silver Surfer can lift/press more than 40 tons. He has frequently exhibited the ability to significantly boost his physical prowess, and enhance his strength to levels enabling him to fight the most powerful beings in the universe including Thor, the Hulk, Thanos and Beta Ray Bill.

 

Phasing

 

The Surfer has the ability to phase through solid objects though not turn outright intangible. This is done through his use of matter manipulation on solid objects/barriers or using his ability to travel through self-made spatial portals.

 

Stamina

 

The Silver Surfer does not need to breathe and can survive in any environmental condition (miles underwater, the heart of a star, the rigors of outer space, etc.). He does not need to eat or drink to sustain himself but he sometimes does to chose to do so. The Surfer rarely needs rest and can go for years without tiring.

 

Energy Absorption

 

The Surfer's skin is designed to absorb various energies from beta particles to any energy wavelength on the electro-magnetic spectrum (from infrared energy to visibile light, to quantum radiation). He is constantly being charged from hundreds of nearby stars and energies from distant galaxies. He can change this absorption into reflection if he chooses. The Surfer has also absorbed so much energy from a sun before, that he turned into a living bomb.

 

Blast Power

 

The Surfer can absorb and tap into ambient cosmic energy into his body at will and allowing him to use these energies at different forces. The Surfer could also channel energy through his hands also known as energy beams that can destroy a planet. He can use various energies for offensive purposes as well. He can create large blasts or beams down to the subatomic level.

 

Energy Manipulation

 

The Surfer can use energy to create force fields and shields. He can solidify energy to imprison enemies. He can manipulate the energies around him to make space travel possible for beings around him that can not survive in space. He can also control gravity.

 

Matter Control

 

The Silver Surfer can rearrange matter to create other objects of importance by rearranging molecules. He can also change the state of matter, such as changing solids into gas. Matter Transmutation helps the Surfer escape traps and prisons and can also be used to make an enemies weapons inactive.

 

Super Speed

 

The Silver Surfer's board allows him to move at rates of velocity far beyond that of lightspeed. He has even demonstrated the ability to enter the time stream at his own volition and ability.

 

Flight

 

The Silver Surfer flies through the atmosphere of any planet, as well as through the rigors of outer space. He is capable of complex aerobatic manueverability, while also being able to turn, stop and accelerate without any loss of control. He typically uses his surfboard, but has been occassionally observed to fly without the use of it.

  

⚡ Happy 🎯 Heroclix 💫 Friday! 👽

_____________________________

 

A year of the shows and performers of the Bijou Planks Theater.

 

Secret Identity: Norrin Radd

 

Publisher: Marvel

 

First Appearance: The Fantastic Four #48 (March 1966)

 

Created by: Stan Lee (writer)

Jack Kirby (artist)

 

The Silver Surfer has been seen:

 

Gladiating with The Hulk in BP 218 Day 100!

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/27495953978/

 

Hitting the beach in BP 2020 Day 230!

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/50238933872/

  

At The Playboy Club In Person

Stone, Kirby Four

Columbia CL 1646

1961

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

 

Or something.

 

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

 

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

 

So it goes.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

This is real history.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

That was the plan.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

A ha?

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Better get going and head north.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

16 miles.

 

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

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

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

 

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

 

Phew.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

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

 

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

 

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

   

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

   

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

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

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

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

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

 

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

 

The North Chapel and Transept

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

The South Aisle

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

 

The West Window

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

 

The Bells

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

 

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

 

The South Porch

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

 

The Exterior

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

  

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

 

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

 

Or something.

 

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

 

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

 

So it goes.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

This is real history.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

That was the plan.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

A ha?

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Better get going and head north.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

16 miles.

 

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

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

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

 

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

 

Phew.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

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

 

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

 

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

   

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

   

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

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

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

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

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

 

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

 

The North Chapel and Transept

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

The South Aisle

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

 

The West Window

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

 

The Bells

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

 

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

 

The South Porch

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

 

The Exterior

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

  

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

 

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

 

Or something.

 

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

 

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

 

So it goes.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

This is real history.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

That was the plan.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

A ha?

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Better get going and head north.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

16 miles.

 

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

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

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

 

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

 

Phew.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

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

 

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

 

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

   

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

   

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

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

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

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

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

 

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

 

The North Chapel and Transept

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

The South Aisle

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

 

The West Window

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

 

The Bells

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

 

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

 

The South Porch

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

 

The Exterior

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

  

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

 

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

 

Or something.

 

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

 

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

 

So it goes.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

This is real history.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

That was the plan.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

A ha?

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Better get going and head north.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

16 miles.

 

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

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

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

 

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

 

Phew.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

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

 

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

 

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

   

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

   

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

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

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

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

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

 

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

 

The North Chapel and Transept

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

The South Aisle

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

 

The West Window

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

 

The Bells

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

 

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

 

The South Porch

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

 

The Exterior

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

  

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

 

The Postcard

 

A postcard bearing no publisher's name that was posted in London on Monday the 2nd. September 1991 to:

 

Mrs. M. Taylor,

99a, McDermott Close,

Ingrave Street,

Battersea.

 

The message on the divided back of the card was as follows:

 

"Dear Margaret,

It was so good to see

you looking well.

I am just going to

Holloway Sainsbury's.

Some people brought

me some stuff.

Rosie

x"

 

Grinling Gibbons

 

Grinling Gibbons was an Anglo-Dutch sculptor and wood carver known for his work in England, including Windsor Castle and Hampton Court Palace, St. Paul's Cathedral and other London churches, Petworth House and other country houses, Trinity College, Oxford, and Trinity College, Cambridge.

 

Gibbons was born in Rotterdam on the 4th. April 1648 and educated in Holland of English parents, his father being a merchant. Grinling is widely regarded as the finest wood carver to have worked in England, and the only one whose name is widely known among the general public.

 

Most of his work is in lime (Tilia) wood, especially decorative Baroque garlands made up of still-life elements at about life size, made to frame mirrors and decorate the walls of churches and palaces, but he also produced furniture and small relief plaques with figurative scenes.

 

He also worked in stone, mostly for churches. By the time he was established he led a large workshop, and the extent to which his personal hand appears in later work varies.

 

Grinling moved to Deptford, England, around 1667, and by 1693 had accepted commissions from the royal family and had been appointed as a master carver. He became known as the "King's Carver", and carried out exquisite work for St. Paul's Cathedral, Windsor Castle, and the Earl of Essex's house at Cassiobury.

 

His carving was so fine that it was said a pot of carved flowers above his house in London would tremble from the motion of passing coaches.

 

The diarist Evelyn first discovered Gibbons' talent by chance in 1671. Evelyn, from whom Gibbons rented a cottage near Evelyn's home in Sayes Court, Deptford (today part of south-east London), wrote the following:

 

"I saw the young man at his carving, by the

light of a candle. I saw him to be engaged

on a carved representation of Tintoretto's

Crucifixion, which he had in a frame of his

own making."

 

Later that same evening, Evelyn described what he had seen to Sir Christopher Wren. Wren and Evelyn then introduced him to King Charles II who gave him his first commission – still resting in the dining room of Windsor Castle.

 

Gibbons was a member of the Drapers' Company in the City of London, being admitted by patrimony in 1672 and called to the livery in 1685.

 

Horace Walpole later wrote about Gibbons:

 

"There is no instance of a man before Gibbons

who gave wood the loose and airy lightness of

flowers, and chained together the various

productions of the elements with the free disorder

natural to each species."

 

-- Grinling Gibbons' Work

 

Gibbons was employed by Wren to work on St Paul's Cathedral, and later was appointed as master carver to George I. He was also commissioned by King William III to create carvings, some of which adorn Kensington Palace today.

 

An example of his work can be seen in the Presence Chamber above the fireplace, which was originally intended to frame a portrait of Queen Mary II after her death in 1694. Also in the Orangery at Kensington, you can see some his pieces.

 

Many fine examples of his work can still be seen in the churches around London, particularly the choir stalls and organ case of St Paul's Cathedral. Some of the finest Gibbons carvings accessible to the general public are those on display at the National Trust's Petworth House in West Sussex. At Petworth the Carved Room is host to a fine and extensive display of intricate wooden carvings by Gibbons.

 

Grinling's work can be seen in the London churches of St. Michael Paternoster Royal and St. James, Piccadilly, where he carved the wood reredos and marble font. The Anglican dislike of painted altarpieces typically left a large space on the east wall that needed filling, which often gave Grinling's garlands a very prominent position, as here.

 

In 1682 King Charles II commissioned Gibbons to carve a panel as a diplomatic gift for his political ally Cosimo III, Grand Duke of Tuscany. The Cosimo Panel is an allegory of art triumphing over hatred and turmoil, and includes a medallion with a low relief of Pietro da Cortona, Cosimo's favourite painter.

 

The panel is housed in the Pitti Palace in Florence. It was recently displayed in the United Kingdom in the Grinling Gibbons and the Art of Carving exhibition held at the V&A from the 22nd. October 1998 until the 24th. January 1999.

 

In 1685 the new king James II asked Gibbons to carve a panel for another Italian ally, the Duke of Modena Francesco II, brother to his second wife Mary of Modena. The Modena Panel is a memento mori for Charles II who died earlier that year and includes a funeral dirge from the play The Contention of Ajax and Ulysses by dramatist James Shirley:

 

"There is no armour against fate; Death lays

its icy hand on kings: Sceptre and crown

must tumble down".

 

It also features a medallion self-portrait of Gibbons. The panel is displayed in the Estense Gallery in Modena.

 

St. Peter and St. Paul church in Exton, Rutland, has a fine marble tomb by Gibbons dating from 1685, showing Viscount Campden with his fourth wife, Elizabeth Bertie, and carvings of his 19 children.

 

Many experienced Flemish sculptors also worked in Gibbons' London workshop as "servants", i.e. collaborators. As these Flemish artists were not trainees, they were never entered in the Draper's records. In a document dated 1679, van der Meulen, Quellin and Verhuke are referred to as servants of Gibbons. Many of them left London and returned to their home country after the revolution of 1688.

 

In the Gibbons workshop these Flemish artists worked on various commissions, but the contributions of particular artists active in the workshop are not always identifiable. Laurens van der Meulen and Peter van Dievoet are known to have collaborated on the creation of the statue of King James II during their stay in the workshop of Gibbons.

 

St. Michael and All Angels Church, Badminton, has a monument by Gibbons to Henry Somerset, 1st. Duke of Beaufort (1629–1700). He was buried alongside his ancestors in the Beaufort Chapel in St George's Chapel, Windsor, but the monument was moved to Badminton in 1878.

 

The monument consists of an effigy of the Duke in Garter robes, reclining on a sarcophagus and a plinth with relief of St. George and the Dragon. There are twin Corinthian columns with embossed shafts, acanthus frieze, cornice with flaming urns, and the Duke's arms and supporters.

 

At the top, 25 ft. from the ground, is a tasseled cushion supporting a coronet; on the plinth are full-length female figures of Justice and Truth. Above the Duke's effigy, parted curtains show the heavenly host with palms and crowns. The Latin inscription displays the names of his family and the many offices he held.

 

Gibbons also made the monument for Admiral Sir Cloudesley Shovell, who was killed in a disastrous shipwreck in 1707. Shovell's large marble monument can be seen in Westminster Abbey.

 

Gibbons' work very often included carvings of peapods. A myth states that he would include a closed pod in his work, only carving it open once he had been paid. If the pea pod was left shut it supposedly showed that he had not been paid for the work.

 

-- The Death and Legacy of Grinling Gibbons

 

Grinling died in London at the age of 73 on the 3rd. August 1721. He was laid to rest at St. Paul's, Covent Garden, London.

 

Gibbons' association with Deptford is commemorated locally: Grinling Gibbons Primary School is in Clyde Street, near the site of Sayes Court in Deptford.

 

Parts of New Cross and Deptford were in the "Grinling Gibbons" council ward from 1978 to 1998.

 

Damson Idris

 

So what else happened on the day that Rosie posted the card?

 

Well, the 2nd. September 1991 also marked the birth in Peckham, South-East London of Damson Idris.

 

Damson Idris is a British-Nigerian actor. He currently stars on John Singleton's crime drama Snowfall, which debuted on the 5th. July 2017 on FX. He also played the co-lead in Netflix's sci-fi action film Outside the Wire.

 

-- Damson Idris - The Early Years

 

Idris is of Nigerian descent, and is the youngest of six children. He played football and dreamed of being the next Cristiano Ronaldo. He also played rugby, and in 2002, he shook the hand of Queen Elizabeth II when his team took part in her Golden Jubilee.

 

Idris's elder siblings - three brothers and two sisters - have all gone on to corporate careers in law, business, and IT, so when Damson realised a professional football career wasn't going to happen, he ended up studying drama at Brunel University.

 

He received a BA Honours degree in Theatre, Film & Television studies. He then went on to train at the Identity School of Acting in London alongside Hollywood stars such as John Boyega, Letitia Wright, and Malachi Kirby.

 

-- Damson Idris' Career

 

After performing at the Royal National Theatre in London, Idris decided to pursue television and film roles. He had several parts on British series including Miranda (2013), Doctors (2015), and Casualty (2015).

 

In May 2017, Idris won the "Emerging Talent Award" at the 12th. Screen Nation Film and Television Awards in London.

 

Idris's breakout role was Franklin Saint, an ambitious 19-year-old drug dealer in Los Angeles, in the FX crime drama Snowfall from John Singleton, which debuted in July 2017.

 

The first season of Snowfall - set in 1983 as the United States is on the verge of the crack cocaine epidemic - weaves together the stories of several characters whose lives will soon collide because of drugs.

 

Idris auditioned through video in London before flying out to Los Angeles, where he spent the day with Singleton, who wanted to ensure Idris had mastery of the accent.

 

To practise his American accent he worked with rapper WC, who tutored him on not just an authentic accent but the mannerisms specific to South Central Los Angeles. Idris earned strong reviews for his performance; Malcolm Venable of TV Guide called him "Nothing short of captivating."

 

The second series of Snowfall, set in 1984, premiered in July 2018.

 

Idris had his first big screen part in 2016 in the British thriller City of Tiny Lights, starring Riz Ahmed. In 2017, he made his American film debut in Megan Leavey alongside Kate Mara, who plays the title character in the eponymous war film.

 

Idris also has a part as an FBI agent in the 2018 film The Commuter with Liam Neeson; and starred in Farming, alongside Kate Beckinsale. Farming is a semi-autobiographical story of Nigerian-British actor Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje, who directed the film.

 

Idris plays the character based on Akinnuoye-Agbaje, who, like many Nigerian people in the late 20th. century, was "farmed out" to a white family in the UK in the hopes of a better life, while Beckinsale portrays his strict foster mother.

 

In 2019, Damson won the Award for Best Actor in a British Film at the Edinburgh Film Festival for his portrayal. He also appears in "Smithereens," the second episode of the fifth season of the anthology series Black Mirror.

 

-- Damson Idris' Personal Life

 

Idris is a devoted football fan, and supports Manchester United F.C. He said his hero is American actor Denzel Washington. In 2017, he told Interview magazine:

 

"Denzel is phenomenal. I didn't know I wanted to be an actor, but once it found me I looked at whom people were saying were great. I looked at who I wanted to be like. Not just in acting, but in their personal life as well. Being a well-rounded person, a fine example of good taste and prestige and class, that's what I really chased, so he was the person that did it for me."

 

Kate Beckinsale

 

Kathrin Romany Beckinsale, who was born on the 26th. July 1973, is an English actress and model. After some minor television roles, her film debut was Much Ado About Nothing (1993) while a student at the University of Oxford.

 

Kate appeared in British costume dramas such as Prince of Jutland (1994), Cold Comfort Farm (1995), Emma (1996), Shooting Fish (1997), and The Golden Bowl (2000), in addition to various stage and radio productions.

 

Beckinsale started film work in the United States in the late 1990's. After appearing in small-scale dramas The Last Days of Disco (1998) and Brokedown Palace (1999), she starred in the war drama Pearl Harbor (2001), the romantic comedy Serendipity (2001), and Tiptoes (2003).

 

Kate followed those with starring roles in The Aviator (2004) and Click (2006). All these films established her as a serious player in Hollywood.

 

Since playing the role of Selene in the Underworld film series (2003–2016), Beckinsale has become known for her work in action films, including Van Helsing (2004), Whiteout (2009), Contraband (2012), and Total Recall (2012).

 

Kate continues to make appearances in smaller dramatic projects such as Snow Angels (2007), Nothing but the Truth (2008), and Everybody's Fine (2009). For the two first films she received positive reviews.

 

In 2016, she received critical acclaim for her performance in the period comedy film Love & Friendship, for which she received a nomination for the Critics' Choice Movie Award for Best Actress in a Comedy.

 

Kate returned in action films with Jolt (2021). She also starred in two television projects with The Widow (2019) and Guilty Party (2021).

 

-- Kate Beckinsale - The Early Years

 

Kathrin Romany Beckinsale was born on the 26th. July 1973 in the Chiswick district of London, the only child of actors Richard Beckinsale and Judy Loe. She has a half-sister from her father's earlier marriage, actress Samantha Beckinsale.

 

Kate's father was partly of Burmese descent. Her parents did not marry until 1977, prior to Beckinsale starting nursery school, when she made her first television appearance at age four, in an episode of This Is Your Life dedicated to her father.

 

When Kate was five, her father Richard died suddenly of a heart attack aged 31. She was deeply traumatised by the loss and "started expecting bad things to happen."

 

Her widowed mother moved in with director Roy Battersby when Kate was nine, and she was brought up alongside his four sons and daughter. She has a close relationship with her stepfather, who was a member of the Workers Revolutionary Party during her youth.

 

She helped to sell The News Line, a Trotskyist newspaper, as a little girl, and has said that the household phone was tapped following Battersby's blacklisting by the BBC.

 

Family friends included Ken Loach and Vanessa Redgrave.

 

Beckinsale was educated at Godolphin and Latymer School, an independent school for girls in Hammersmith, West London, and was involved with the Orange Tree Youth Theatre. She was twice a winner of the W H Smith Young Writers Award for both fiction and poetry.

 

Kate has described herself as a "late bloomer":

 

"All of my friends were kissing boys

and drinking cider way before me.

I found it really depressing that we

weren't making camp fires, and

everyone was doing stuff like that."

 

Kate had a nervous breakdown and developed anorexia at the age of fifteen, and underwent Freudian psychoanalysis for four years.

 

Beckinsale read French and Russian literature at New College, Oxford, and was later described by her contemporary Victoria Coren Mitchell, as:

 

"Whip-clever, slightly nuts,

and very charming".

 

Kate became friends with Roy Kinnear's daughter Kirsty. She was involved with the Oxford University Dramatic Society, most notably being directed by fellow student Tom Hooper in a production of A View from the Bridge at the Oxford Playhouse.

 

As a Modern Languages student, Kate was required to spend her third year abroad, and so she studied in Paris. She then quit university to focus on her burgeoning acting career:

 

"It was getting to the point where

I wasn't enjoying either thing

enough because both were very

high pressure."

 

Beckinsale has stated that she would like to complete her studies at Oxford University.

 

-- Kate Beckinsale's Career

 

-- 1991–1997: Early Acting Roles

 

Beckinsale decided at a young age that she wanted to be an actress:

 

"I grew up immersed in film. My family

were in the business. I quickly realised

that my parents seemed to have much

more fun in their work than any of my

friends' parents."

 

Kate made her television debut in 1991 with a small part in an ITV adaptation of P. D. James' Devices and Desires. In 1992, she starred alongside Christopher Eccleston in Rachel's Dream, a 30‑minute Channel 4 short, and in 1993, she appeared in the pilot of the ITV detective series, Anna Lee, starring Imogen Stubbs.

 

In 1993, Beckinsale landed the role of Hero in Kenneth Branagh's big-screen adaptation of Much Ado About Nothing. It was filmed in Tuscany, Italy, during a summer holiday from Oxford University. She attended the film's Cannes Film Festival premiere, and remembered it as an overwhelming experience:

 

"Nobody even told me I could bring

a friend! I had Doc Martens boots on,

and I think I put the flower from the

breakfast tray in my hair."

 

Peter Travers of Rolling Stone was won over by her "lovely" performance, while Vincent Canby of The New York Times noted that:

 

"She and Robert Sean Leonard look

right, and behave with a certain naïve

sincerity, although they often seem

numb with surprise at hearing the

complex locutions they speak."

 

The film grossed over $22 million at the box office.

 

Kate made three other films while at university. In 1994, she appeared as Christian Bale's love interest in Prince of Jutland, a film based on the Danish legend which inspired Shakespeare's Hamlet. She starred in the murder mystery Uncovered, and in 1995, while studying in Paris, she filmed the French language Marie-Louise ou la Permission.

 

Shortly after leaving Oxford University in 1995, Beckinsale starred in Cold Comfort Farm, as Flora Poste, a newly orphaned 1930's socialite sent to live with distant family members in rural England.

 

The John Schlesinger-directed film was an adaptation of Stella Gibbons' novel, and also featured Joanna Lumley, Eileen Atkins, Ian McKellen, Rufus Sewell and Stephen Fry.

 

Beckinsale was initially considered too young, but was cast after she wrote a pleading letter to the director.

 

Emanuel Levy of Variety commented:

 

"I was reminded of the strength of a

young Glenda Jackson and the charm

of a young Julie Christie."

 

Kevin Thomas of the Los Angeles Times classed the actress as:

 

"Yet another of those effortlessly skilled

British beauties who light up the screen."

 

Janet Maslin of The New York Times felt:

 

"She played the role with the perfect

snippy aplomb."

 

The film grossed over $5 million at the US box office.

 

Also in 1995, Kate appeared in Haunted, a ghost story in which Derek Elley of Variety felt that:

 

"She holds the screen, with both

physical looks and verbal poise."

 

1995 also saw Beckinsale's first professional stage appearance as Nina in The Seagull at the Theatre Royal, Bath. She became romantically involved with co-star Michael Sheen after meeting during play rehearsals. She later said:

 

"I was all revved up to feel very

intimidated. It was my first-ever

play, and my mother had cut out

reviews of him in previous

productions.

And then he walked in ... It was

almost like, 'God, well, I'm finished

now. That's it, then.'... He's the most

outrageously talented person I've

ever met."

 

Irving Wardle of The Independent felt that:

 

"The casting, including Michael Sheen's

volcanic Kostya and Kate Beckinsale's

steadily freezing Nina, is mainly spot-on."

 

In early 1996, Kate starred in two further plays; Sweetheart at the Royal Court Theatre, and Clocks and Whistles at the Bush Theatre.

 

Beckinsale next starred in an ITV adaptation of Jane Austen's Emma, playing Emma to Mark Strong's Mr Knightley and Samantha Morton's Harriet Smith. Beckinsale said of her character:

 

"You shouldn't necessarily like Emma.

You do love her, but in the way the

family of a young girl could be

exasperated by her outrageous

behaviour and still love her."

 

The programme was aired in autumn 1996, just months after Gwyneth Paltrow had starred in a film adaptation of the same story. Caryn James of The New York Times felt that:

 

"While Ms. Beckinsale's Emma is plainer-

looking than Ms. Paltrow's, she is

altogether more believable and funnier."

 

Jonathan Brown of The Independent has described Beckinsale's interpretation as "the most enduring modern performance" as Emma.

 

In 1997, Beckinsale appeared opposite Stuart Townsend in the comedy Shooting Fish, one of the most commercially successful British films of that year. Beckinsale recalled of the initial audition:

 

"I'd just had my wisdom teeth out,

I was also on very strong painkillers,

so it was not the most conventional

of meetings."

 

Elley wrote of "an incredibly laid-back performance," while Thomas felt that

 

"She just glows as an aristocrat

facing disaster with considerable

aplomb."

 

Kate narrated Austen's Emma for Hodder & Stoughton AudioBooks, and Diana Hendry's The Proposal for BBC Radio 4.

 

Also in 1997, she played Juliet to Michael Sheen's Romeo in an AudioBook production of Romeo and Juliet, directed by Sheen.

 

In Beckinsale's last film before her move to the US, she starred as Alice in Channel 4's Alice through the Looking-Glass, released in July 1998.

 

-- 1998–2002: Kate Beckinsale's Move to Hollywood

 

At this point in her career, Beckinsale began to seek work in the United States, about which she has said:

 

"It wasn't a conscious decision... My

boyfriend was in a play on Broadway,

so that's why we ended up in New York,

and my auditions happened to be for

American films."

 

Kate starred opposite Chloë Sevigny in 1998's The Last Days of Disco. The Whit Stillman film focused on a group of mostly Ivy League and Hampshire College graduates socialising in the Manhattan disco scene of the early 1980's. Beckinsale's American accent was widely praised.

 

Kenneth Turan of the Los Angeles Times felt that her role as the bossy Charlotte was "beautifully played." Todd McCarthy of Variety was unimpressed by the film, but noted that

 

"Compensations include Beckinsale,

looking incredible in a succession of

black dresses, whose character can

get on your nerves even if the actress

doesn't."

 

The film grossed $3 million worldwide, and Kate's performance earned her a London Critics' Circle Film Award.

 

In 1999, Beckinsale appeared opposite Claire Danes in Brokedown Palace, a drama about two young Americans forced to deal with the Thai justice system on a post-graduation trip abroad.

 

A then 26-year-old Beckinsale played a young girl. Danes had hoped to become friends with Beckinsale during the shoot, but found her "complicated" and "prickly."

 

McCarthy said:

 

"The leads confirm their status as two

of the young actresses on the scene

today most worth watching.

Beckinsale is very effective at getting

across layered character traits and

emotions."

 

Thomas commented:

 

"Danes and Beckinsale are exceptionally

talented young actresses, but unfortunately,

the script's seriously underdeveloped

context defeats their considerable efforts

at every turn."

 

Stephen Holden of The New York Times felt that:

 

"Beckinsale's character

never comes into focus."

 

The film was a box office failure.

 

The Golden Bowl (2000) marked Beckinsale's first role following the birth of her daughter. The Merchant/Ivory production, which was based on the novel by Henry James, also starred Uma Thurman and Jeremy Northam.

 

Beckinsale's partner, Michael Sheen, hit Northam on the film set after he followed Beckinsale to her trailer to scold her for forgetting a line.

 

Holden noted:

 

"The most satisfying of the four-lead

performances belong to the British

cast members, Ms. Beckinsale and

Mr. Northam, who are better than

their American counterparts at

layers of emotional concealment.

Each beat of Beckinsale's

performance registers precisely."

 

Thomas felt that her performance would take her to "a new career level." Andrew Sarris of The New York Observer asserted that:

 

"She comes close to capturing the

sublimity of Maggie, despite the

obvious fact that no movie can

capture the elegant copiousness

of James' prose."

 

The film grossed over $5 million worldwide.

 

Beckinsale rose to fame in 2001 with a leading role in the war film Pearl Harbor, as a nurse torn between two pilots (played by Ben Affleck and Josh Hartnett). She was drawn to the project by the script:

 

"It's so unusual these days to read a script

that has those old-fashioned values to it.

Not morals, but movie values. It's a big,

sweeping epic....You just never get the

chance to do that."

 

Director Michael Bay initially had doubts about casting the actress:

 

"I wasn't sure about her at first ...

she wore black leather trousers

in her screen test, and I thought

she was a little nasty ... it was

easy to think of this woman as

a slut."

 

He eventually decided to hire her because:

 

"She wasn't too beautiful. Women feel

disturbed when they see someone's

too pretty."

 

He asked her to lose weight during filming. In a 2004 interview, Kate noted that:

 

"His comments were upsetting. I wore

leather trousers because it was snowing

out. It wasn't exactly like I had my nipple

rings in."

 

Kate felt grateful that she had not had to deal with such criticism at a younger age:

 

"If I had come on to a movie set at a

younger age and someone had said,

'You're a bit funny-looking, can you

go on a diet?' – I might have jumped

off a building. I just didn't have the

confidence to put that into perspective

at the time."

 

However, speaking in 2011, Kate said that she was "very fond" of Michael Bay.

 

Pearl Harbor received negative reviews, although Owen Gleiberman of Entertainment Weekly praised:

 

"The avid eyed, ruby lipped Kate Beckinsale,

the rare actress whose intelligence gives her

a sensual bloom; she's like Parker Posey

without irony."

 

A. O. Scott of The New York Times noted that:

 

"Mr. Affleck and Ms. Beckinsale do what they

can with their lines, and glow with the satiny

shine of real movie stars."

 

However, Mike Clark of USA Today felt that:

 

"The usually appealing Kate Beckinsale is

inexplicably submerged – like her hospital

colleagues – under heaps of tarty makeup

that even actresses of the era didn't wear."

 

Despite critical revues, Pearl Harbor was a commercial success, grossing $449 million worldwide.

 

Beckinsale's second film appearance of 2001 was in the romantic comedy Serendipity, as the love interest of John Cusack. It was filmed directly after Pearl Harbor, and Beckinsale found it:

 

"A real relief to return to

something slightly more

familiar."

 

Turan praised the "appealing and believable" leads, adding that:

 

"Beckinsale reinforces the strong

impression she made in Cold Comfort

Farm, The Golden Bowl, and The Last

Days of Disco after recovering nicely

from her appearance in the much-

maligned Pearl Harbor."

 

Claudia Puig of USA Today felt that:

 

"Beckinsale's talents haven't been mined

as effectively in any other film since Cold

Comfort Farm."

 

McCarthy found her "energetic and appealing," while Elvis Mitchell of The New York Times described her as "luminous but determined."

 

In an uncomplimentary review of the film, Roger Ebert described her as:

 

"A good actress, but not good

enough to play this dumb."

 

Serendipity grossed over $77 million at the worldwide box office.

 

In 2002, Beckinsale starred in Laurel Canyon, as a strait-laced academic who finds herself increasingly attracted to her free-spirited future mother-in-law. The independent film was another opportunity for Beckinsale to work with Christian Bale, her Prince of Jutland co‑star.

 

She found their sex scene awkward because she knew Bale well:

 

"If it was a stranger, it

would have been easier."

 

While Frances McDormand's performance as Bale's mother was widely praised, Beckinsale received negative reviews. Holden found the film:

 

"Superbly acted, with the exception

of Ms. Beckinsale, whose tense,

colourless Alex conveys no inner life."

 

Critic Lisa Schwarzbaum was unimpressed by the "tedious" characters, and criticised "the fussy performances of Bale and Beckinsale" in particular.

 

Laurel Canyon grossed over $4 million worldwide.

 

-- 2003–2006: Action roles

 

Beckinsale became known as an action star after playing a vampire in 2003's Underworld. The film was markedly different from her previous work, and Beckinsale has said:

 

"I was grateful for the change of pace

after appearing in a bunch of period

stuff and then a bunch of romantic

comedies.

It was quite a challenge for me to play

an action heroine and pull off all that

training when in real life I can't catch

a ball if it's coming my way."

 

The film received negative to mixed reviews, but was a surprise box-office hit, and has gained a cult following.

 

Also that year, she starred in the little-seen Tiptoes with Gary Oldman and Matthew McConaughey.

 

In 2004, Beckinsale starred in the action horror film Van Helsing. She was "so surprised" to be appearing in her second action film in two years:

 

"It just seemed like

a very good role."

 

Beckinsale had just separated from her long-term boyfriend Michael Sheen at the time of filming, and appreciated the warm atmosphere created on set by director Stephen Sommers and co‑star Hugh Jackman:

 

"I really did find that working with

people like Stephen and Hugh

made it possible to get through

what I was going through."

 

Van Helsing grossed over $120 million at the US box office, and over $300 million worldwide, even though it was not well-reviewed. Mick LaSalle of the San Francisco Chronicle described Kate as:

 

"A pretty actress doing her best to

maintain dignity, vainly trying to craft

a feminist statement from a filmmaker's

whimsy."

 

Rex Reed of The New York Observer felt that:

 

"Ms. Beckinsale is desperately

in need of a new agent."

 

Also in 2004, Beckinsale portrayed Ava Gardner in Martin Scorsese's Howard Hughes biopic The Aviator. Scorsese decided to cast Beckinsale because:

 

"I've always liked her. I've seen all

her work, and I was glad that she

agreed to audition."

 

Beckinsale's performance received mixed reviews. Ken Tucker of New York Magazine said that:

 

"She played the part "in full

va-va-voom blossom"

 

LaSalle felt that:

 

"She manages to convince us

that Ava was one of the great

broads of all time."

 

However, Clark described it as:

 

"The one performance that doesn't

come off (though Beckinsale has the

requisite beauty)."

 

Peter Bradshaw of The Guardian stated that:

 

"Gardner's rich, voluptuous sexiness

is completely absent as Beckinsale

sleepwalks through the role as if she

was advertising perfume."

 

The Aviator nevertheless grossed over $213 million worldwide.

 

In 2006, Beckinsale reprised her role as Selene in the successful vampire sequel Underworld: Evolution, directed by her husband, Len Wiseman. Kate later said:

 

"It was the first time I had been involved

with a movie from the moment it's a germ

of an idea right through the whole editing

process."

 

Her daughter had a small role as the younger Selene. The film was a box office success, grossing $111 million worldwide.

 

Beckinsale's second film appearance of 2006 was opposite Adam Sandler and Christopher Walken in Click, a comedy about an overworked family man who discovers a magical remote control that allows him to control time.

 

Kate said:

 

"The opportunity to play a mother

was one of the things that was

attractive to me about the part."

 

Click was highly profitable, grossing $237 million worldwide against a production budget of $82.5 million.

 

2007–2008: Focus on Small-Scale Drama

 

Beckinsale then made a return to smaller-scale projects:

 

"My experience is that I sort of stepped

away from the independent movies and

did a couple of big movies.

But that's not necessarily how it's perceived

by everybody else, which I do understand."

 

Kate also said:

 

"I enjoy an action movie as much as the

next person, but it's not something that I

would like to do solely."

 

She explained that she had originally decided to appear in Underworld because she felt typecast in classical roles:

 

"It was assumed that I use a chamber pot

and wear bloomers, but my action career

kind of took off a little too much."

 

In 2007, Beckinsale starred opposite Sam Rockwell in the independent drama Snow Angels, based on the novel by Stewart O'Nan. The harrowing film, in which she played an overwhelmed single mother, put Beckinsale "in kind of a tough place."

 

She recalled:

 

"I did have my kid, my husband and, in fact,

my ex was around a lot, so it was very nice

to come home to my people whom I love."

 

Puig felt that:

 

"Beckinsale gives her best performance

in years."

 

Richard Corliss of Time described it as:

 

"Her sharpest work yet."

 

However, Scott felt that:

 

"Her skill and discipline cannot overcome the

sense that she is an exotic species transplanted

into this grim ecosystem. Hard as she works to

convince us otherwise, it's a stretch to believe

that a woman with the kind of poised confidence

in her own beauty she manifests would wind up

with an underachieving mouth breather like

Glenn."

 

Snow Angels grossed solely $414,404 worldwide.

 

Also in 2007, Beckinsale appeared alongside Luke Wilson in Vacancy, a thriller set in an isolated motel. Sarah Jessica Parker was originally cast in the part, but she dropped out before filming began.

 

Bradshaw felt:

 

"Wilson and Beckinsale have

the chops for scary movies."

 

Gleiberman noted:

 

"Luke Wilson, with his hangdog defensive

mopiness, and Kate Beckinsale, all sexy

severity, are ideally matched as a couple

who hate each other."

 

However, Manohla Dargis of The New York Times was unimpressed, referring to Beckinsale as:

 

"The reigning queen of the bland B's."

 

Vacancy was profitable, grossing $35 million worldwide against a production budget of $19 million.

 

In 2008, Beckinsale appeared in Winged Creatures, a film about how six different witnesses cope with the aftermath of a shooting. Beckinsale played a waitressing single mother.

 

Beckinsale of the filming process:

 

"It was a really, really nice experience

but it was quick. I just felt a bit like I

was shot through a cannon."

 

Betsy Sharkey of the Los Angeles Times felt that:

 

"Kate played the role with a white

trash verve. Her character's raw

ache for that someone with money

and respectability is palpable."

 

However, Dargis felt that:

 

"Beckinsale and her cast mates have

a tough time filling out characters that

are at best abstractions of grief and

often just clichés."

 

Winged Creatures received a very limited theatrical release in New York and Los Angeles; it was released simultaneously on DVD.

 

Also in 2008, Beckinsale starred in Nothing but the Truth, as a journalist who refuses to reveal her source. The film, co‑starring Vera Farmiga and Matt Dillon, was inspired by the case of Judith Miller.

 

Kate recalled:

 

"As part of my research for the role,

I spent some time at The L.A. Times

with some female reporters, and I

spoke to Judith Miller about her

experience....I really researched the

hell out of that one and it was an

amazingly fulfilling, brilliant

experience."

 

Ann Hornaday of The Washington Post asserted that:

 

"Beckinsale and Farmiga played two

of the most fascinating female movie

characters to hit screens in a long while,

and they've been brought to life by two

gifted actresses, each working at the

top of her game."

 

Beckinsale received a Critic's Choice Award nomination for her performance. The film never received a full theatrical release after the distributor filed for bankruptcy and the film grossed solely $186,702 worldwide:

 

Kate recalled:

 

"I have prayed – prayed – for film companies

to go bankrupt on films I've made, and then

this happens on the one I love. Usually it's the

ones you're most embarrassed about that are

on the side of every bus."

 

-- 2009–2015: Return to Action Films

 

In 2009, Beckinsale starred in the comic-book adaption Whiteout, as a US Marshal tasked with investigating a murder in Antarctica. It was filmed in Manitoba, Canada. Kate found the action scenes less physically demanding than those in Underworld because:

 

"Three pairs of trousers and a parka

gives you a bit more protection than

the latex suit."

 

The film was critically panned and a box office failure, failing to recoup its budget. Rotten Tomatoes critics consensus:

 

"Beckinsale is the lovely as ever, and

does her best with the material, but

moribund pacing and an uninspired

plot leave Whiteout in the cold."

 

Kate also made a brief cameo in the prequel Underworld: Rise of the Lycans; she appeared in flashforwards composed of footage from 2003's Underworld.

 

Also in 2009, Beckinsale starred in the family drama Everybody's Fine alongside Robert De Niro, Drew Barrymore, and Rockwell, her Snow Angels co-star.

 

Beckinsale was excited by the opportunity to work with De Niro, whom she had first encountered:

 

"Years and years ago when I just had

Lily and he was putting together a

reading of The Good Shepherd."

 

Everybody's Fine was a box office flop, failing to recoup its production budget.

 

In May 2010, Beckinsale sat on the nine-member 2010 Cannes Film Festival jury, chaired by director Tim Burton. Unable to find a script she felt passionate about, Beckinsale kept a low profile in 2010 and 2011, opting to spend time with her daughter.

 

Beckinsale returned to acting in 2012 with appearances in three action films. Kate first appeared in the action thriller Contraband. She had a supporting role as the wife of Mark Wahlberg's character, a former criminal who gets forced back into a life of crime after his family members are threatened.

 

The film was directed by Baltasar Kormákur, who also starred in the Icelandic language version of the film, Reykjavík-Rotterdam. The San Francisco Chronicle felt that Beckinsale was:

 

"Stuck in a bit of a thankless role as

the victimised wife, but she does try

to infuse a harder edge to the character."

 

The Hollywood Reporter stated that:

 

"Beckinsale, her innate classiness

calibrated down a few notches, has

little to do but be supportive, worried

and, eventually, besieged."

 

Entertainment Weekly felt that:

 

"The woman-in-peril stuff is

second-rate, giving off a whiff

of exploitation"

 

Variety found the repeated violence towards Beckinsale's character disturbing. Nevertheless, Contraband had a production budget of $25 million and grossed over $96 million worldwide.

 

Beckinsale next reprised her role as Selene in the fourth instalment of the vampire franchise Underworld: Awakening. The franchise was initially conceived of as a trilogy, and Beckinsale was not "intending to do another one" but was convinced by the quality of the script.

 

The Hollywood Reporter noted that:

 

"When she's not actually fighting, her

performance consists of little more

than striding purposefully toward or

away from the camera."

 

The Los Angeles Times remarked that:

 

"She finally manages to perfect the

monotone delivery she'd been honing

for the series' first two entries."

 

The film had a production budget of $70 million and grossed over $160 million worldwide.

 

Also in 2012, Beckinsale appeared as the wife of a factory worker in the sci-fi action remake Total Recall, directed by her husband Len Wiseman. Kate has said that Wiseman joined the project because he was unable to obtain studio financing for an original sci-fi idea:

 

"You're constantly finding yourself

having to defend doing a remake

when you didn't really want to make

one in the first place."

 

The film received mainly negative reviews. Variety found Kate's performance "one-note," while The Hollywood Reporter described her as "one-dimensional."

 

USA Today remarked that:

 

"She spends much of the movie strutting

down hallways and looking relentlessly,

though blandly, nasty."

 

The film has grossed $198 million against a production budget of over $125 million.

 

In 2012, Kate appeared alongside Judy Greer and Andrea Savage in the Funny or Die video "Republicans, Get in My Vagina", a satire of the Republican Party's policies concerning abortion and prenatal care.

 

In 2013, Beckinsale starred in the legal thriller The Trials of Cate McCall opposite Nick Nolte and James Cromwell. The film received negative reviews, and was released as a Lifetime movie.

 

Kate next appeared in the little-seen psychological thriller Stonehearst Asylum, loosely based on Edgar Allan Poe's short story "The System of Doctor Tarr and Professor Fether".

 

A lukewarm critical reception greeted the film upon its DVD release; Jeannette Catsoulis of The New York Times said:

 

"Beckinsale was emoting

as if an Oscar nomination

depended on it."

 

Dennis Harvey of Variety found her performance "overwrought."

 

In 2014, Kate provided the voice for Queen Ayrenn, a character in The Elder Scrolls Online video game.

 

Also in 2014, Beckinsale starred in the psychological thriller The Face of an Angel alongside Daniel Brühl. The film, directed by Michael Winterbottom, was inspired by the case of Meredith Kercher.

 

Jesse Hassenger of The A.V. Club felt that her "charismatic" performance was wasted. Also in 2015, Kate starred alongside Simon Pegg in the poorly received British comedy Absolutely Anything, as an author agency employee and the love interest of a man (Pegg) chosen by four aliens to do anything he wants.

 

Tom Huddleston of Time Out said:

 

"Her character is never really developed –

which is perhaps a blessing, because her

cut-glass-posh performance is almost as

grating as Pegg's."

 

A fan of Monty Python growing up, in 2014 Beckinsale appeared on the fourth episode of Monty Python's Best Bits (Mostly) where she spoke of her favourite Python comedy sketch.

 

-- 2016 – Present: Love & Friendship and Beyond

 

In the 2016 romantic comedy Love & Friendship, which premiered at the Sundance Film Festival, Beckinsale reunited with her Last Days of Disco collaborators Stillman and Sevigny.

 

Based on Jane Austen's Lady Susan, the film revolved around her role as the title character, a wry and calculating widow, as she pursues a wealthy and hapless man for a marriage originally intended for her daughter, though she eventually marries him herself.

 

The film was universally acclaimed by critics and found commercial success in arthouse cinemas. Justin Chang of Variety described the role as:

 

"One of the most satisfying screen

roles of her career. Beckinsale

magnetizes the screen in a way

that naturally underscores how far

ahead of everyone else she is: an

effect that doesn't always work to

the movie's advantage."

 

Todd McCarthy of The Hollywood Reporter remarked:

 

"There aren't great depths to the role,

but Beckinsale excels with the long

speeches and in defining her character

as a very self-aware egoist."

 

Also in 2016, Kate starred in the horror film The Disappointments Room opposite Mel Raido, both playing a couple in a new house that contains a hidden room with a haunted past.

 

The film was heavily panned by critics and flopped at the box office; it only made $1.4 million in its opening weekend, and a total of $2.4 million in North America. Christian Holub of Entertainment Weekly concluded that:

 

"Most of the film is just Beckinsale

walking around looking worried."

 

Joe Leydon of Variety found Kate:

 

"Credible and compelling, except for

when she's trying way too hard in a

rather unfortunate scene that calls

for drunken ranting."

 

In late 2016, Beckinsale returned as Selene in the fifth installment of the Underworld franchise, Underworld: Blood Wars, which grossed $81.1 million worldwide.

 

Beckinsale starred opposite Pierce Brosnan, Callum Turner, and Jeff Bridges in Marc Webb's romantic coming-of-age drama The Only Living Boy in New York (2017), as a book editor and the mistress of a publisher whose son sees his life upended.

 

Reviews of the film were mediocre, while it found a limited audience in theaters. The A.V. Club found Brosnan and Beckinsale to be:

 

"Vastly more interesting by the twin

virtues of not disguising their voices

and fitting so poorly into the sad-faced

melodrama this movie wants to be".

 

In 2018, Beckinsale starred as Ingrid Carpenter in the British film Farming.

 

Beckinsale starred in the ITV/Amazon Prime drama The Widow (2019), her first TV series for more than 20 years. The series stars Beckinsale as an Englishwoman who believes her husband, killed in a plane crash three years prior, is still alive in the Congo.

 

Beckinsale starred in the American action comedy film Jolt which was adapted from a screenplay by Scott Wascha and released in July 2021.

 

That same year Kate starred in the Paramount+ dark comedy streaming television Guilty Party. In that series, she served as executive producer as well.

 

-- Modelling

 

Labelled an "English rose" by the BBC as early as 2001, Beckinsale has worked occasionally as a model. In 1997, she appeared in the music video for George Michael's "Waltz Away Dreaming".

 

She starred opposite Orlando Bloom in a 2002 Gap television advertisement directed by Cameron Crowe. Kate appeared in a Diet Coke television advertisement in 2004. She advertised Absolut Vodka in a 2009 print campaign photographed by Ellen von Unwerth.

 

-- Kate Beckinsale's Relationships

 

Beckinsale was in a relationship with Welsh actor Michael Sheen from 1995 to 2003. They met when cast in a touring production of The Seagull in early 1995, and moved in together shortly afterwards. In 1997, they voiced an audiobook production of Romeo and Juliet.

 

Their daughter Lily Mo Sheen was born in 1999. In 2001, Beckinsale said she was "embarrassed" that Sheen never proposed, but felt as though she was married. They broke up in early 2003, after the filming of Underworld. Beckinsale and Sheen remain close friends; she remarked in 2016:

 

"He's really dear, close family. He's

somebody I've known since I was

21 years old. I really love him a lot."

 

Beckinsale met American director Len Wiseman while working together on 2003's Underworld. She persuaded Wiseman to cast Sheen in the film, but while on set, the two fell in love. Wiseman's then-wife Dana, a kindergarten teacher, claimed infidelity in Budapest.

 

They married on the 9th. May 2004 in Bel-Air, California, but separated in November 2015. Wiseman filed for divorce in 2016, citing "irreconcilable differences", and their divorce was finalised in November 2019.

 

In January 2019, Beckinsale was reported to be dating American comedian Pete Davidson, but by April they had "called time on their romance".

 

-- Kate Beckinsale's Personal and Political Beliefs

 

Beckinsale is a smoker. When she was nine, her mother moved in with Roy Battersby, and his sons introduced her to cigarettes.

 

Kate is a teetotaller, stating in 2003:

 

"I've never been drunk even.

I've never taken drugs. I've

never had a one-night-stand."

 

In 2007, she appeared alongside David Schwimmer in the sixth of the Writers Guild of America member-conceived Internet videos for Project "Speechless", in support of the WGA labour strike against the Alliance of Motion Picture & Television Producers.

 

-- Legal issues

 

In July 2003, the Press Complaints Commission dismissed a complaint filed by Beckinsale. She alleged that the tabloid Daily Mail had invaded her and her daughter's privacy by publishing photographs of the actress embracing and kissing her then-boyfriend Len Wiseman.

 

The article in question was headlined:

 

"Mummy's latest love scene

leaves Lily unimpressed"

 

The article included a picture in which her then-four-year-old daughter appeared to be ignoring her mother's romantic actions. The Commission found that:

 

"The photographs had been taken in a

public place and did not reveal any private

details about Lily—such as her health or

schooling—but were restricted to general

observations about her apparent reaction

to her surroundings."

 

In August 2003, Beckinsale received a published apology from the Daily Mail after it claimed that she had "spent time in a clinic" following her breakup with Michael Sheen. The apology was issued after she filed a complaint with the Press Complaints Commission.

 

In 2009, Beckinsale was awarded £20,000 in damages by the British High Court after taking legal action against Express Newspapers. The Daily Express had falsely reported that she was "facing heartbreak" after losing out on a role in a remake of Barbarella.

 

-- Kate Beckinsale's Philanthropy

 

The British Heart Foundation has been Beckinsale's charity of choice ever since she was six years old when her father, who had a congenital heart defect, died of a massive heart attack.

 

Kate has also donated film memorabilia to the Epidermolysis Bullosa Medical Research Foundation, MediCinema, Habitat For Humanity, and the Entertainment Industry Foundation.

 

In 2008, she hosted the 4th. Annual Pink Party to raise funds for the Women's Cancer Research Institute at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, and organised a screening of All About Eve for FilmAid International.

 

In 2012, Beckinsale joined Nestlé's Share the Joy of Reading Program to raise awareness about the importance of people's literacy.

 

Bryan Adams

 

Also on that day, the Number One chart hit record in the UK was '(Everything I Do) I Do It For You' by Bryan Adams.

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

 

Or something.

 

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

 

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

 

So it goes.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

This is real history.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

That was the plan.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

A ha?

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Better get going and head north.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

16 miles.

 

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

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

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

 

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

 

Phew.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

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

 

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

 

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

   

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

   

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

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

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

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

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

 

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

 

The North Chapel and Transept

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

The South Aisle

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

 

The West Window

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

 

The Bells

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

 

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

 

The South Porch

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

 

The Exterior

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

  

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

 

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

 

Or something.

 

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

 

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

 

So it goes.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

This is real history.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

That was the plan.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

A ha?

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Better get going and head north.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

16 miles.

 

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

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

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

 

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

 

Phew.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

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

 

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

 

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

   

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

   

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

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

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

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

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

 

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

 

The North Chapel and Transept

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

The South Aisle

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

 

The West Window

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

 

The Bells

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

 

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

 

The South Porch

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

 

The Exterior

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

  

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

 

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

 

Or something.

 

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

 

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

 

So it goes.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

This is real history.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

That was the plan.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

A ha?

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Better get going and head north.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

16 miles.

 

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

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

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

 

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

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

----------------------------------------------------

 

The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

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The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

THE CHURCH of St Bride's is justly world famous. To enter its doors is to step into 2,000 years of history, which had begun with the Romans some six centuries before the name of St Bride, daughter of an Irish prince, even emerged from legend to become associated forever with the site.

 

The story of St Bride's is inextricably woven into the history of the City of London. By the time the Great Fire of 1666 left the church in ruins, a succession of churches had existed on the site for about a millennium, and the area had already assumed its unique role in the emergence of English printing. It took nine years for St Bride's to re-appear from the ashes under the inspired direction of Christopher Wren, but for the next two-and-a-half centuries it was in the shadow of the church's unmistakeable wedding-cake spire that the rise of the British newspaper industry into the immensely-powerful Fourth Estate took place.

 

Then, in 1940, St Bride's fell victim once again to flames as German incendiary bombs reduced Wren's architectural jewel to a roofless shell. This time 17 years elapsed before rebuilding was completed, although a series of important excavations in 1953 amid the skeletal ruins, led by the medieval archaeologist Professor W. F. Grimes, came up with extraordinary results, uncovering the foundations of all six previous churches on the site.

 

Not only the nation, but the Christian world as a whole, was fascinated by the discovery.

 

Historians and religious scholars had always accepted that there had been a site of Christian worship alongside the Fleet River and close to the Lud Gate, now known as Ludgate Circus, in the heart of the ancient City of London, for about 1,000 years.

 

When the Romans established Londinium following the invasion under the emperor Claudius in 43 AD, they dug a mysterious extra-mural ditch on the site of the future church and built a house, which seems likely to have been one of the earliest sites of worship. A Roman pavement can be seen to this day on display in the much-restored crypts of the church.

 

More than four centuries were to pass before the name of St Bride became associated with the site. But that association was to last throughout subsequent recorded history.

 

Born in 453 AD, shortly after St Patrick, Bride (or St Brigid) was the daughter of a prince and a druidic slave. As a teenager with an overwhelming desire to do good to others, she gave away so many of her father's possessions - daily necessities such as milk and flour, but also jewellery and swords - that he eventually let her follow her calling and enter the religious life. In 470, she and seven other nuns founded a convent in Kildare which developed into a centre of learning and spirituality, famed for its illuminated manuscripts such as the Book of Kildare.

 

According to legend, when Bride received her blessing as abbess it was inadvertently read to her as the rite of consecration as a bishop, which could not then be rescinded. Thus Bride and her successor abbesses had authority equal to that of a bishop for the following seven centuries.

 

She was renowned throughout Christian Europe for her holiness and common sense, and was regarded as a saint during her lifetime. Ironically, in view of the part that flames were later to play in the story of the church, she shared her name with the pagan goddess of fire, who had been noted for her music, her craftsmanship and her poetry - all qualities that have been manifested in and around St Bride's over numerous generations.

 

A line from a poem attributed to her - "I long for a great lake of ale" - was also an ironic harbinger of one of the Fleet Street's preoccupations in later years.

 

She died on 1st February 525 and was buried with the remains of Ireland's two other patron saints - Patrick and Columba. This date continues to be celebrated as the Feast of St Bride.

 

In the early sixth century the first stone-walled church was built here, founded either by St Bride in person or by Celtic monks who had formed a community in London. It was rebuilt many times over the following centuries, with notable structures including those of the Middle Saxons and the Normans.

 

This period in history was characterised by the urbanisation of Europe, military expansion, and intellectual revival, aided by the conversion of the raiding Scandinavians to Christianity. The 11th, 12th and 13th centuries saw a large increase in London's population - from less than 15,000 to over 80,000.

 

By the year 1200 Britain's effective capital city was Westminster, then a small town up-river from the City of London, where the royal treasury and financial records were stored.

 

St Bride's was the first church encountered between London and Westminster. This accident of geography gave it considerable importance; in 1205, the Curia Regis, a council of landowners and ecclesiastics charged with providing legislative advice to King John, and a predecessor to today's parliament, was held in the church. St Bride's influence and its numbers of parishioners grew substantially during the medieval period. From the 13th century onwards London developed through two different seats of power and influence: Westminster became the royal capital and centre of government, while the City of London became the centre of commerce and trade - a distinction evident to this day.

 

The area between them eventually became entirely urbanised by the end of the 16th century, and it was at the beginning of that century that St Bride's developed its first links with one of the future cornerstones of British society which were to constitute its most enduring claim to fame.

 

In the year 1500 the church had impressive neighbours - the many members of the clergy who were unable to afford the high cost of living in the very centre of the medieval city, where there was greater protection from thieves. However, they possessed their own powerful insurance against burglars - the fear of excommunication, which freed them to live outside.

 

So while rich merchants huddled together in the centre for safety, the area around St. Bride's became a haven for the eminent divines who were involved in national life. Salisbury Square, Peterborough Court and Ely Place are among names which have come down through history to remind us of great houses in the vicinity.

 

Since the clergy possessed almost a monopoly of literacy in those days, they were the printers' best customers. Thus Fleet Street became the cradle of the transformation of the medieval art and mystery of printing into the most influential industry man had yet known.

 

In the early 1470s, William Caxton had learnt the recently-invented technique of printing in Cologne. He returned to London in 1476 and set up a press by Westminster Abbey. In all, he printed about 100 books, some 20 of which were translated from French or Dutch, on subjects that included history and geography, the lives of saints, fables, and instructional books (for example, on good manners and learning French). His output also included most of the works of Chaucer.

 

As a well-to-do cloth merchant, Caxton had no need to make his press commercially viable. But after he died in 1491, his apprentice Wynkyn de Worde, who acquired that press, was in different circumstances. Having no other income, printing was his livelihood. So he followed commercial principles and took his goods to the buyer, setting up England's first printing press with moveable type in the churchyard of St Bride's in 1501.

 

It was a period in history when churchyards were hives of activity, boasting inns, taverns and commercial premises, and Fleet Street proved the perfect place for de Worde's new enterprise.

 

The publishers of playwrights and poets soon set up competing presses in other local churchyards, and the connection between St Bride's and world of printing and journalism was cemented. Wynkyn de Worde was buried in the church in 1535.

 

By the 17th century Fleet Street had become an irresistible attraction for the great writers and diarists of the day. A trio of Johns - Milton, Dryden and Evelyn - lived in the vicinity; Samuel Pepys was baptised at St Bride's, and Richard Lovelace buried there.

 

But then, in the space of 16 terrible months, it all changed.

 

St Bride's long connections with the colonies in America began when the parents of Virginia Dare, the first child born to English emigrants to North Carolina in August 1585, were married at the church. The event is commemorated in a touching bust of a little girl which can be found by the font in the south-west corner of the church.

 

One of the most striking features of today's St. Bride's also owes its inspiration to the church's American links. The great canopied oak reredos which enshrines the church altar is a memorial to the Pilgrim Fathers. This connection was made 35 years after Virginia Dare's birth when Edward Winslow (1595-1655) became one of the leaders of the Mayflower expedition in 1620. Winslow, who was three times elected governor of Plymouth, Massachusetts, had served as a boy apprentice in Fleet Street and would have known St Bride's well. His parents were also married there.

 

At the same time, St. Bride's parish was busily helping to populate yet another English colony. One hundred girls and boys from the Bridewell Hospital orphanage were sent to Virginia in 1619. The project was so successful that the governor requested 100 more. All the youngsters received grants of land on coming of age.

 

The Great Plague is believed to have first struck the docklands of London in April 1665, and by 6th June the parish of St Bride's was officially notified of an outbreak within its boundaries. It was also known as "the Poore's Plague," and the parish suffered terribly because of the large number of manual workers.

 

The court of Charles II, together with lawyers, merchants and doctors, fled the city, but the poor could not. St Bride's vicar, the Revd Richard Peirson, remained to witness the devastation to his parish community, including the deaths of his churchwardens.

 

Searchers of the Dead, usually old women, were paid to go out and inspect a corpse to determine cause of death. They were often bribed not to diagnose bubonic plague, as the entire household of a victim had to be locked in for 40 days, which normally resulted in all their deaths. Terrified residents sniffed nosegays to ward off malodorous airs which were thought to carry the infection. Funeral bells tolled constantly.

 

The parish distributed relief to stricken families. Watchmen were paid to guard locked houses and attend to the wants of those within. Nurses were dispatched to attend the sick. Two "bearers" were paid to carry corpses to the plague pits. The cost of all of this was partly reclaimed by the "brokers of the dead" who seized the property left in infected houses. So much was gathered that St Bride's had to rent a storehouse.

 

Many thousands of dogs and cats were culled, as they were believed to spread the pestilence. Flea-infested rats (the real culprits) were thus freed of predators, and proliferated.

 

In all the plague cost the parish of St Bride's some £581. The human cost was far worse: 2,111 people died in the parish in that fateful year. London lost 100,000, or 20% of its inhabitants.

 

Plague victims continued to die in smaller numbers until autumn the following year - which proved to be the very moment the City was consumed, literally, by a second dreadful tribulation on the heels of the first.

 

After a summer of drought, the Great Fire of London began on Sunday 2nd September 1666, and very soon the worried residents of the parish were watching in growing alarm before being put to flight two days later as the advancing flames leapt the narrow alleyways to ignite wooden houses and the often-illegal businesses many of them contained.

 

St Bride's was equipped with its own fire engine, but had failed to keep the machine "scoured, oyled and trimmed." Soldiers destroyed houses about Fleet Bridge in the vain hope that the Fleet River might stay the advance of the flames. But the relentless east wind drove the fire on: one onlooker described how it "rushed like a torrent down Ludgate Hill."

 

On Friday, Samuel Pepys made this entry in his diary:

 

September 7. - Up by five o'clock; and blessed be God!, find all well; and by water to Paul's Wharfe. Walked thence, and saw all the towne burned; and a miserable sight of Paul's church, with all the roof fallen, and the body of the quire fallen into St Fayth's; Paul's School also, Ludgate and Fleete-street, my father's house (in Salisbury Court) and the church (St Bride's), and a good part of the Temple the like.

 

Two weeks before the conflagration, a new vicar had been inducted at St Bride's. The hapless Paul Boston was to possess a church for no longer than those two weeks of his tenure, though in his will he left it £50; the silver gilt vessels bought with that bequest remain prized possessions today.

 

The destruction of the medieval St Bride's was so complete that no attempt was made to use the ruins for service, as was done at St Paul's and elsewhere. So, the big question was: would St Bride's be rebuilt?

 

In 1671 the churchwardens of St Bride's took Mr Christopher Wren (Surveyor General and Principal Architect for rebuilding the City) to dinner at the Globe Tavern. It would take another year before they could convince him of their cause, but their persistence meant that St Bride's was one of the first post-fire churches to be opened.

 

The blaze had destroyed 87 City churches. Despite Wren's belief that only 39 were necessary in such a small area, St Bride's was among the 51 to be rebuilt. The £500 required as a deposit by Guildhall to get things under way was raised in a month - a remarkable effort, given that most of the parishioners had lost homes and businesses in the disaster. Nor was this the end to the financial demands, as money remained tight. But a combination of Coal Dues, donations and loans eventually met the building's cost of £11,430 5s. 11d.

 

Joshua Marshall was the main contractor for the works. A parishioner and master mason to the king, like his father before him, Marshall was a wise choice. He also worked with Wren on Temple Bar and the Monument, while one of his assistants was the young Nicholas Hawksmoor, who was to become a renowned architect himself.

 

As today, the main material for the church was Portland stone. By September 1672, within a year of starting, the walls had reached the upper part of the cornice. The speed of progress was partly ascribed to the fact that the workmen had a hostel by the church, the Old Bell Tavern, built for them by Wren. By 1674 the main structural work was complete, and a year later the church finally reopened for worship on Sunday 19th December 1675.

 

Though it was open, it was not completed; most notably, the tower remained unfinished. In 1682 the churchwardens again approached Wren, this time about building the steeple. Work did not begin until 1701, and took two years to complete. At 234ft it was Wren's highest steeple, although after it was damaged by lightning in 1764 it was reduced to 226ft during more rebuilding.

 

Much has been written about the steeple, the most romantic tale of which is surely that of William Rich, apprenticed to a baker near Ludgate Circus. He fell in love with his master's daughter and, when he set up his own business at the end of his apprenticeship, won her father's approval for her hand in marriage.

 

Rich wished to create a spectacular cake for the wedding feast, but was unsure how, until one day he looked up at the steeple of the church in which the marriage was to be held, and inspiration hit him: a cake in layers, tiered, and diminishing as it rose. Thus began the tradition of the tiered wedding cake.

 

The year before the steeple was finished, the Daily Courant became the first regular daily newspaper to be printed in the United Kingdom, published on 11th March 1702 by Elizabeth Mallet from rooms above the White Hart pub in Fleet Street. A brass plaque to mark the 300th anniversary of this first edition was unveiled by the Prince of Wales at a special service in St Bride's on 11th March 2002.

 

Publishers and newspapers now began to spring up with some urgency; of the national papers that are still in existence, the Daily Universal Register (now The Times) was first published in 1785, and The Observer became the world's first Sunday newspaper in 1791.

 

Many renowned writers tried their hand - Daniel Defoe, for instance, founded the Daily Post.

 

As numerous regional and provincial titles were founded, they set up London offices in and around St Bride's, as did the first news agencies.

 

The vast expansion of the printing industry in Fleet Street also drew interest from intellectuals, actors and artists. Anyone who was anyone - Samuel Johnson, James Boswell, David Garrick, Samuel Richardson, Joshua Reynolds, William Hogarth, William Wordsworth and John Keats - would want to be seen in the coffee houses and inns around St Bride's.

 

Guardian (1821)

Daily Mail (1896)

Sunday Times (1822)

Daily Express (1900)

News of the World (1843)

Daily Mirror (1903)

Daily Telegraph (1855)

Sunday Mirror (1915)

The People (1881)

Sunday Express (1918)

Financial Times (1888)

Morning Star (1930)

 

With the coming of the 20th century their combined circulations were immense, and the power of press barons such as Northcliffe, Kemsley, Beaverbrook, Astor and Rothermere propelled Fleet Street into the very heart of the British power structure, often shaping news as well as reporting it.

 

Then came World War II and, in 1940, Fleet Street watched helplessly as the news exploded right at its doorstep. For St Bride's, by now enshrined as the parish church of journalism, it once again brought catastrophe.

 

The Blitz began in the early autumn as the Germans, their plan for a summer invasion thwarted, sought instead to bomb Britain's cities into submission. Guildsman John Colley, now in his 80s, recalls what it was like to be in a Grub Street at war:

 

"The nightly bombing to which London was being subjected for those last four months of 1940 made little apparent difference to the way Fleet Street went about its business. The business of producing tomorrow's newspapers was so all-consuming that there was little time to think about what was going on above; and that was true not only of those working in the great buildings housing the Nationals, but also in the basements of the scores of London offices of the big provincial papers.

 

"That isn't to say there weren't moments of sheer terror when the ominous whistle of a bomb you knew was going to land close by could be heard, but once the immediate danger was over you just got on with the job that had to be done. It was such a familiar situation that one became hardened to it.

 

"Outside, Fleet Street appeared to be its usual nightly hive of activity and got on with its job as much as circumstances would allow. News vans still dashed off to the London termini; couriers brought Government hand-outs from the Ministry of Information; messengers from picture and news agencies dodged the shrapnel and bombs as they darted from office to office; even the odd tramp made his nightly call to cadge a cuppa.

 

"With most of the newspapers gathered together in an area all around Fleet Street, the agencies - PA, Reuters, Ex Tel and the rest - sent the majority of their news through cables strung across the Street to tape machines in subscribing offices, all liable to disruption by bomb and blast - which brought more messengers delivering a hand service.

 

"Night life in the Street at that time centred around the all-night cafes - and there were many of them, all doing good business serving sustaining tea and snacks. Pubs, of course, had to keep to licensing hours, but Fleet Street's two Black and White all-night milk bars did a roaring trade serving hot soup and a great variety of milk shakes.

 

"Occasionally a fire-fighting party of three dodged from building to building, one carrying a bucket of water, one a stirrup pump and the third a hose on their way to put out an incendiary fire. Air Raid Precaution wardens made their nightly calls and public service vehicles on their way to or from an incident were up and down the Street throughout the night. All in all, there was hardly a quiet moment, either on the ground or up above."

 

Two days before this grim year ended, St Bride's luck ran out. On the night of Sunday 29th December the Luftwaffe targeted the City of London in a concentrated incendiary raid. Some 1400 fires were started; eight of Wren's churches were destroyed. St Bride's was one of them.

 

The church, locked after Evensong, suffered incendiary hits which pierced the roof, and the seasoned timbers proved perfect tinder. Some treasures were rescued from the flames, including the medieval gospel lectern which had survived the Great Fire of 1666. But most was destroyed. The famous bells melted and fell, but the steeple, despite having flames pouring from it, prevailed - testament to Wren's design.

 

Up Ludgate Hill, the Times reported, "the dome of St Paul's seemed to ride the sea of fire like a great ship lifting above the smoke and flames the inviolable ensign of the golden cross."

 

But all that lay ahead for St Bride's were years of ruined desolation until the war ended and the church's administrators were able to address the question that had faced their predecessors in 1666: How do we rebuild both the church and its congregation?

 

By the time the austere 1950s came round, services were being held on the site, some in the open air and others in the crypt chapel.

 

Rebuilding work was scheduled for 1954, thanks to the restoration fund which was a tribute to the dedication of the Rector, Revd Cyril Armitage. The chosen architect, Godfrey Allen, an authority on Wren, studied the master's original plans and produced a faithful recreation. He kept the clear glass Wren loved, but did not rebuild the galleries, instead laying out the stalls in collegiate style.

 

With rebuilding came excavation as well as restoration. In addition to the astonishing discovery of Roman remains on the site in 1953, the crypts were found to contain thousands of human remains, many of them victims of the Great Plague of 1665 and the cholera epidemic of 1854. The latter claimed 10,000 lives in the City of London, and, as a result, Parliament decreed that there should be no more burials in the City. The crypts were sealed and forgotten about.

 

One hundred years later the excavations of Professor F.W. Grimes resulted in St. Bride's possessing two almost unique series of human remains. One includes well over 200 skeletons identified by their sex and age at the time of death, thus forming a very important source of research into forensic and other forms of medicine.

 

The other series, which is estimated by some to include nearly 7,000 human remains, is in a medieval charnel house where all the bones were found in categories - thigh bone with thigh bone and so on - and laid in chequer-board pattern. This is probably evidence of a land shortage in London even that many centuries ago.

 

On 19th December 1957, on the anniversary of Wren's church being opened for worship 282 years previously, St Bride's was rededicated in the presence of the Queen and Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh.

 

In 1962, Dewi Morgan inherited the Rector's mantle from Cyril Armitage, and throughout the 1960s and 1970s St Bride's continued its ministry to the newspaper world, hosting baptisms, weddings and memorial services as well as offering regular weekday worship for those working in the area.

 

In 1967 the church was packed for a service to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the Press Association, whose offices were next door. The glass doors at the West End were a gift to mark the occasion. Through the generosity of Sir Max Aitken, Lord Beaverbrook's heir, a permanent exhibition was mounted in the crypt chronicling the history of the site and of Fleet Street, and was renewed with the help of Reuters and the Museum of London 25 years later.

 

By the early 1980s, however, all was not well in the newspaper business. For years Fleet Street had been living with chaotic industrial relations. Proprietors found the so-called Spanish practices of the print unions intolerable, while the workers rejected management attempts to introduce flexible working, no-strike clauses, new technology, and an end to the closed shop.

 

National newspapers continued to be produced by the labour-intensive linotype hot-metal method, rather than being composed electronically. Eddie Shah's regional Messenger Group had, however, benefited from the Conservative government's trade union legislation which allowed employers to de-recognise unions, enabling Shah to use an alternative workforce and new technology. Journalists could input copy directly, sweeping away arcane craft-union manning levels and cutting costs dramatically.

 

On 24th January 1986, some 6,000 newspaper workers went on strike after the breakdown of negotiations with Rupert Murdoch's News International, parent of Times Newspapers and News Group Newspapers. They were unaware that Murdoch had built and clandestinely equipped a new-technology printing plant in Wapping. When they struck, he moved his operation overnight.

 

Within months the printing dinosaur that was Fleet Street was dead. By 1989 all the national newspapers had decamped as other proprietors followed Murdoch's lead. Computers had consigned Wynkyn de Worde's revolution to history.

 

Many people at that time feared that the diaspora of the Fourth Estate might result in St Bride's losing its title of the cathedral of Fleet Street. Some even considered that the great church would lose its parishioners. Might Rupert Murdoch's vision bring about what pestilence, fire and the Luftwaffe had failed to achieve?

 

Fortunately for St Bride's, the national newspapers scattered in every direction rather than congregating in one locality, so that "Fleet Street" remains to this day a generic term for the nation's press, and the church retains its pre-eminent position in the journalistic and media constituency.

 

During the Middle East hostage crisis of the late 1980s and early 1990s, it hosted all-night vigils for John McCarthy and others, and on their release in 1991 a grand service of celebration was held.

 

We have commemorated John Schofield, BBC reporter killed in Croatia in 1995; Reuters' Kerem Lawton, killed in Kosovo; Channel 4's Gaby Rado and ITN's Terry Lloyd (Iraq); BBC cameraman Simon Cumbers, murdered by Al Qaeda in Saudi Arabia; and the Wall Street Journal's Daniel Pearl, murdered by Al Qaeda in Pakistan in 2002.

 

In 2003 we unveiled a memorial to all journalists who died in Iraq, and in 2006 commemorated James Brolan and Paul Douglas, CBS journalists killed in Baghdad, demonstrating St Bride's unique position in journalism throughout the world. When, earlier this year, The Times' driver in Iraq, Yasser, was killed in a bomb blast in Baghdad, it was to St Bride's that senior News International staff came to light a candle.

 

The Journalists' Altar in the North East corner also carries prayers for reporters who are missing or who have lost their lives in current conflicts.

 

Newspaper proprietors such as Lord Burnham, Lord Rothermere and Lord Hartwell have been remembered in memorial services. So have editors like Sir Edward Pickering, David Astor, Stewart Steven and Louis Kirby; the Guardian's famed woman's editor Mary Stott; the D-Day war reporter Doon Campbell; BBC figures such as Godfrey Talbot, Louis MacMillan and Leonard Miall; and Fiona MacPherson of Good Housekeeping magazine.

 

Strong and successful efforts were made by the former Rector, Canon John Oates, to bring into the church's embrace the new occupants of the now-silent newspaper offices - chiefly lawyers, accountants and investment bankers. Twenty years after the last newspaper left, the large number of memorials and carol services we hold every year are evenly split between the "old" and the "new" Fleet Street.

 

The church today has a light, open feel of symmetry; the floor is paved with black marble from Belgium and white from Italy. This is very much a living church in a modern world.

 

As a result of a successful funding appeal, new side aisles constructed of English and European oak were installed in 2004, offering significantly better views for large congregations while preserving the beautiful character of the church.

 

Out of the inferno of that hellish night in December 1940 has emerged something beautiful, which remains the spiritual heart both of the parish of St Bride's and of the journalistic community in Britain and throughout the world.

 

The church retains strong City links, has built up an enviable musical reputation, and is home to thriving Sunday congregations, as well as being a major tourist landmark. Set back from Fleet Street, only yards from the tremendous bustle of Ludgate Circus, yet seemingly existing in its own peaceful space, St Bride's is one of the most historic, vibrant and beautiful churches to be found anywhere in London.

 

www.stbrides.com/history/index.html

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

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Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

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The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

----------------------------------------------------

 

The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

----------------------------------------------------

 

The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

----------------------------------------------------

 

The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

----------------------------------------------------

 

The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

----------------------------------------------------

 

The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

I can remember the days before the A143 was driven between the village and the church, you would head out of Gillingham, past the pub, through Geldeston, now stuck at the end of a dead end lane, and into Kirby Cane, where the road dog-legged round the pub and then out towards Bungay.

 

Now the busy road passes between the village and church, and I only happened to be passing by on account of following the sat nav.

 

I had tried to see inside All Saints once before, a short winter day around Christmas, with the light fading, the flint wall then attracted my attention before trying the ancient door inside the porch.

 

Then, as this day, the door was locked and with no details of a key holder.

 

The Norman doorway deserves to be revisited, as some of the shots I took did not come out, as the carving seems especially fine and still clear.

 

But the church was locked, and so will return some other day when I hope to be luckier.

 

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The first time I ever visited Kirby Cane church, it was in the middle of the night. We were driving past, taking the narrow country lanes between Norwich and Bungay. We came over a rise, and the round tower loomed up before us in the moonlight. I remember getting out and wandering up the path under the dark spreading canopy of the magnificent spruce trees. It was like walking into a Gothick horror story.

Kirby Cane parish contains the sizeable village of Kirby Row, but the church and churchyard are some way off on the other side of the Diss to Yarmouth road. In daylight this is a rather charming spot, although the trees are still magnificent. I can't think of any bigger in a Norfolk graveyard than the one near the gate. The graveyard itself is small, and pleasingly random.

 

And All Saints is a small church, the tower to scale. Its age is revealed by the beautiful Norman south doorway, a common feature around here in this area of small parishes with small churches, although Sam Mortlock points out that this one has an outer ring of decoration which is unique in the county. The door is a little fiddly - you have to get the handle of the latch just right - but you step into a well-maintained interior which is full of light. There is a beautiful roodloft stairway set in the splay of the window on the south side.

 

The font is a fine example from the 14th century. It's traceried panels were probably painted once, and the heads peering from beneath the bowl are all different. The font cover remembers the Coronation of Edward VII, the first there had been of a British monarch in 65 years.The royal arms and a pair of hatchments on the west wall have been restored splendidly - they look almost new - and, indeed, one of them is 20th Century, one of the very last in England.

The furnishings are simple and seemly; the chancel, with its Restoration period communion rails. is elegant in its simplicity. It is all thoroughly fitting for modern Anglican worship. The glass in the east window is stretched to create a shimmering effect, with a single panel of heraldic glass in the middle. On the north side of the chancel is a blocked archway, once that to a chapel, with a tombchest set against it. Can it once have been an Easter sepulchre? It seems hard to believe that it is in its original place.

 

A curiosity is the brass plaque on the chancel floor inscribed in an amateur hand. It tells us that Here lieth the body of John Watson Rector of Kirby Cane who died January 5th Ano Do MDMV - presumably it means MDCV, that is to say 1605. It ends with words which I cannot decode.

 

Simon Knott, July 2009

 

www.norfolkchurches.co.uk/kirbycane/kirbycane.htm

 

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The principal manor in this town was in the abbey of St. Edmund of Bury, to which it was given by Algiva Queen of England, mother of Edward the Confessor. It is to be observed here, that Emma is by historians generally called this King's mother, who first married Etheldred King of England, by whom she had King Edward, and afterwards married Canute King of England, &c.; the Saxon Chronicle calls her Ælgiva Ymma; (fn. 1) and it is probable that she gave it about the year 1020, when King Canute, her lord, was a great benefactor to that abbey.

 

The said abbey held it at the grand survey, and Rafrid of the abbot, with 2 carucates of land, a villain and eleven borderers; there were 2 carucates in demean, 5 carucates among the tenants, and 14 acres of meadow, paunage for 6 swine, the moiety of a mill, &c.; a church endowed with 20 acres in free alms, and 2 parts of a church endowed with 14 acres; 4 runci belonged to the lordship, 4 cows, &c. and 100 sheep. There were also 4 freemen with 3 carucates of land, and 4 carucates and an half, and 3 acres of meadow, valued at 40s. but at the survey at 6l. and the 20 acres of the church at 20d.—It was nine furlongs long, and 5 broad, and paid 10½d. gelt. (fn. 2)

 

Rafrid was succeeded by Godebald de Kirkebia, most likely his son, to whom Anselm, abbot of St. Edmund's Bury, granted this lordship with all its appertenances, and to his heirs, to be held by one fee, sans date; witnesses, Gilbert Blound, Robert de Wridwell, Osward de Thuston, Ralph de Lodnes, Richard de Cadomo, and this grant was confirmed by the letters patent of Henry I.

 

HENRICUS REX Anglie, &c. Episco. Norwic. Sciatis ME concessisse Godeboldo de Churchebey terram de Chirebeiam cum soca, et saca, &c: Test. A. Lino. Espico. Galfrido Cancell. Auberio de Vere, Robto. filio Walteri, Gilb. de Blund, &c.

 

It appears that this King's grant was in the singular number Me concessisse, and not Nos.

 

William, son of Godebold held it temp. King Stephen.

 

In the 8th of Richard I. a fine was levied between Sampson, abbot of Bury, and Alexander, son of Gobald, before Hubt. Archbishop of Canterbury, William de Sca. Maria church, Mr. Thomas de Husseborn, Simon de Pateshull, Richard Heriet, Oger, son of Oger, the King's justices; whereby Alexander agrees to pay 20s. when the scutage for one fee was so taxed, and to do full wardship to Norwich castle. This Alexander left a daughter and heir, Mary, married first to Gilbert de Norfolk, and after to Walter de Cam; Robert de Norfolk, her son, released to her, and Walter her husband, in the 3d of Henry III. all his right in his land here, by fine. (fn. 3)

 

After this, the lordship seems to have been divided, and in the 52d of Henry III. Richard de Thwait, and William de Stockton granted by fine their interest in the advowson of this church to Richard de Cadomo, or de Caam, who gave that name (as lord) to this town.

 

This Richard was descended from Richard de Cadomo, who was living, as is above shown, in the time of King Henry I. and was father of Walter de Cam. King Henry II. in his 30 year, granted to—, son of Thomas Fitz-Bernard, the custody of Mary, the daughter of Walter de Cam, with Wabrigg, (she being 5 years old, and in the custody of the wife of the late Thomas Fitz-Bernard; (fn. 4) ) this Walter had a younger brother, Richard, who was living about the same time, and father of Walter de Cam, who married Mary, daughter and heir of Walter aforesaid; and in the reign of King John, this Walter, and Mary his wife, let to Thomas de Longville, a mill in this town, that she had by inheritance; also a lordship here, as appears from her deed, sans date, whereby she confirmed to persons, lands held of her ancestors, not to be aliened by them, without her consent; and they held it by the 3d part of a fee.

 

Sir Richard de Cam was their son, and inherited this lordship, who lived in the 52d of Henry III. and married Maud, sister of Adam de Mendham; and died about the year 1286, when he made his last will.

 

Walter de Cam, his son and heir, succeeded, was lord in 1287, and in the 22d of Edward I. he and Constance his wife were living in the 31st, and did homage to the abbot of Bury. This Walter, in the 15th of Edward II. sold this manor to Roger Gavel, a burgess of Great Yarmouth, and Constance, his wife, (probably Walter's daughter;) in the following year, Rich. the second son of Walter de Cam, released ot Roger and his wife, all his right; and in the 19th reciting that whereas the said Roger and his wife were to pay to him an annuity of 20s. and to provide him a new robe every winter, he had released the same to them.

 

John, eldest son and heir of Walter, impleaded Roger Gavel, in the 49th of Edward II.; but it appearing that he had also released his right, Roger kept possession. One John de Cam was summoned to parliament in the 28th, 32d, &c. of Edward II. and was of the King's council.

 

Roger Gavel was son of John Gavel, living at Yarmouth, ao. 10 Edward I. son of Jeffrey Gavel, of the said town, by Alice his wife, daughter of Rich. Fastolf; Roger was also lord of Mettingham in Suffolk, in the 5th of Edward III. and father of Edmund, by Constance his wife. Edmund was lord of Kirby in the 10th of Edward III.; in the 17th of that King, he leased the manor of To-How's marsh in Thurverton, to Anselm de Fordele, and William, his son paying him, 5l. per ann. and finding him and Mary his wife, diet at his table, &c. for 2 years. Witnesses, Barth. de Thorp, John de Jernemouth, Thomas Aleyn, John de Wytton, and Hugh de Kymberly, burgesses of Great Yarmouth. In the next year he was in rebellion against the King, riding about Suffolk with banners displayed, imprisoning, and committing many murders, for which he was indicted befor William de Shareshull, &c. the King's justices, and after had a pardon under the broad seal, dated June 29, in the said year.

 

Nicholas Gavel was his son and heir, by Mary his wife, and in the wardship of Nicholas de Wichingham, in the 25th of the said King: he married Catherine, daughter and heir of — Myniot, and was ord of Myniot's manor in Kirkested, in her right.

 

Robert Gavel was their son. Ellen Myniot, widow, mother of Catharine, wife of Nicholas Gavell, released to him, ao. 18 Richard II. all her right in this manor and advowson, which she had of the gift of Nicholas his father; and Catherine his mother was living in the 2d of Henry IV. then the wife of John Godfrey of Chedeston in Suffolk. Robert, by his will. dated February 19, 1439, was buried in the chapel of St. Mary, on the north side of the chancel of this church; Maud, his wife, survived him; her will was proved February 19, 1454.

 

Thomas succeeded his father Robert, was lord of this manor and of Kirksted; by his will, dated December 17, 1461, he orders his body to be buried at the door of the chapel of St. Mary in this church; appoints Heny, his son, and George, his brother, executors; which was proved January 28, 1462. (fn. 5) Emma his wife was living in 1474.

 

Henry Gavell, Gent. inherited this lordship: by his will, dated August, 30, 1474; he was buried in the chapel aforesaid; he bequeaths to Anne, his wife, the manor of Kirby and Ellingham, as long as she continues sole, but if not, then an annuity of 10 marks per annum, and to his mother, Emma, 4 marks per annum Bartholomew, Robert, and Ellen his children mentioned, and proved January 12, following.

 

Bartholomew, son and heir of Henry, was father of Thomas Gavel, the last heir male of this family, and lord in the 12th of Henry VII. by Anne, his wife, daughter of Henry Everard, of Linstead in Suffolk, he left four daughters and coheirs; first, Thomasine, married to Leonard Copledike, Esq. 2d, Dorothy, to Francis Clopton, of Liston in Essex, Esq. 3d, Eleanor, to John Bury, Esq. of Worlingham in Suffolk; and 4th, Elizabeth, to John Cook, Esq.

 

This Thomas, by his will, dated February 16, 1522, was buried in the church of Kirkeby; (fn. 6) and was proved August 9 following. To Thomasine, his eldest daughter, he gives this lordship, who brought it by marriage to Leonard Copledike, Esq. (fn. 7) 2d son of Sir John Copledike of Frampton in Lincolnshire, and of Horham in Suffolk, by Margaret his wife, daughter of — Heton. On the death of this Leonard, (by whom she had a son and heir, John,) she remarried Edward Calthorp, Esq. in 1525; and in the 22d of Henry VIII. this lordship and advowson with 20 messuages, 400 acres of land, 60 of meadow, 300 of pasture, 12 of wood, and 40s. rent per ann. in this town, Elingham, Stockton, Geldeston, and Hale, were settled on the said Edward and Thomasine, for their lives; remainder to John Copledike, son of the said Thomasine, and his heirs. Thomasine died in 1557.

 

Edward was son of Edward Calthorp, Esq. of Ludham, and Anne his wife: in the 4th and 4th of Philip and Mary, he demised to John Copledike, Esq. the site of this manor, which he held for life by the courtesy of England, after the decease of Thomasine, his wife: John paying to him 20l. per ann. in the hall of the said house; Edward was also to have meat and drink for himself, and one servant, as often as he shall reside there; and 2 chambers, one for his own the other for his servant's lodging; with convenient fewel; the keeping of 3 geldings or mares, in summer-time at grass, in the winter in the stable, with hay, &c. and Edward to pay to John 10l. per ann.; in 1557, he died, and was buried by his wife in the chancel of this church, his will being dated May 5, and proved November 5; gives to Edmund his son, all his goods; and to Mary, Grace, and Prudence, his daughters, legacies.

 

¶John Copledike was lord in the 6 of Elizabeth, and held it in capite of the castle of Norwich; he married, first Ellen, daughter and heir of John Woodhouse, Esq. and his 2d wife was Maud, daughter of John Highfield, Esq. of Calais, who died s. p.; by his first wife he left, a daughter and sole heir, Thomasine, who married Humphrey Copledike, Esq. of Hetherset, 5th son of Sir John Copledike, of Harington in Lincolnshire. By an inquisition taken ao. 36 of Elizabeth, the above said John was found to die possessed of it, held of that Queen, by knight's service.

 

Humphrey had several children by his wife Thomasine; but he sold this lordship to Thomas Catelyn of Lakenham by Norwich.

 

ichard Catelyn, Esq. was sheriff of Norwich, in 1531, and alderman of that city; by his will dated August 28, 1556, he wills his body to be buried by his wife, in St. Peter's church of Norwich, and was buried there on November 3 following; his wife was buried there in August 1555.

 

In 1553, he had a patent to bear these arms; p. chevron, azure and or, three lions passant, guardant, in pale, counterchanged; on a chief argent, as many snakes nowed, sable, stinged gules.

 

Richard Catelyn, Esq. was 5th son of Richard, by Elizabeth: in the 4th of Edward VI. he was autumn-reader of Lincoln's Inn, serjeant at law May 19, ao. 1552; steward of the city of Norwich, and King and Queen's serjeant, October 16, 1555; deputy lieutenant and justice of the peace, and one of the commissioners to try the rebels in the reign of Queen Mary; he died before his father, in August, 1556, and was buried in the chancel of Huningham church in Norfolk, and was lord of Huningham Hall, and of Walsoken Popenhow in Norfolk. Barbara, his widow, erected a monument to his memory, which being after decayed, another was erected by Thomas, his 2d son.—He had three daughters; Ann, married to Thomas Derham, Esq. of West Derham; Elizabeth, to Thomas Townsend, Esq. of Testerton, and Lettice, to William Guybon of Fincham. Esq.

 

Richard Catelyn, Esq. first son of the serjeant, was lord of Wolverston Hall in Suffolk, and died March 11th, ao. 43 Elizabeth; he married Dionysia, daughter of Thomas Marsh, Esq. and was father of Philip, who by Dorothy, daughter of — Lawrence, Esq. of — in Cambridgeshire, and Jane his wife, daughter of Sir John Pagrave, Bart. had Richard his son and heir; Richard had also by Dionysia, a 2d son, Sir Nathaniel Catelyn, Knt. recorder of Dublin in Ireland.

 

Philip, by Dorothy, was father of Richard, who, by—, daughter of — Larke of Lincolnshire, had Philip his son, who died unmarried.

 

Thomas Catelyne, Esq. 2d son of the serjeant, married Judith, daughter of Edward Ellington of Theydon Bois in Essex, was lord of Wingfield Hall in Suffolk; in 1604, was lord of Hastings Hall and Whitfoot Hall in Irmingland, and he purchased of Humphrey Copledike, this lordship of Kirkeby.

 

He died in 1636.

 

Richard Catelyn, Esq. son of Thomas, married first Mary, daughter of Sir Robert Houghton, one of the judges of the King's Bench; she died s. p.; his 2d wife was Dorothy, daughter of Sir Henry Nevil of Billingbere in Berkshire, by whom she had a son and heir, Sir Nevil, and Richard who died s. p. also Anne, who married Thomas Leman, Gent. of Wenhaston in Suffolk. Dorothy, married to Leonard Gouch, Gent. of Ersham in Norfolk. Barbara, to Henry Mordaunt of Congham, Esq. Elizabeth who died single.

 

Sir Nevil Catelyne was knighted by King Charles II. at Somersethouse, London, in 1662, lord of this town, and Wingfield castle in Suffolk; he married, first, Dorothy, daughter of Sir Thomas Bedingfield of Darsham in Suffolk; and his 2d wife was Elizabeth, daughter of Robert Houghton of Ranworth, Esq. and had children by both, who died young; his 3d wife was Mary, daughter of Sir William, and sister of Sir Charles Blois, Bart. of Cockfield Hall in Yoxford, Suffolk, and of Grandesburgh: Sir Nevil was buried in this church, on July —, 1702.

 

She survived Sir Nevil, and married Sir Charles Turner of Warham in Norfolk, and were both living here in 1720; and Sir Charles was lord in 1740, and patron.

 

Rafrid (as has been observed) held, at the survey, this lordship of the abbot of Bury, by one fee, and so did Godebald de Kirkeby, and Alexander his son; but after, this fee was divided and held by three different families; the family of De Cam held one 3d part; the Bigots Earls of Norfolk had also an interest in another 3d part which came to the Bigots Lords of Stockton. In the 14th of Edward I. Sir John Bigot, lord of Stockton, claimed view of frank-pledge, assise, free warren, as his ancestors had held of the abbot of Bury; this came to the Garneys, Delapoles, &c. as in Stockton.

 

Another 3d part was in Richard de Thwayt, who, with William de Stockton, granted by fine, in the 52d of Henry III. their interest in the advowson of this church, to Richard de Cam; and Imania, widow of Richard de Thwayt, claimed an interest herein, in the 15th of Edward I.— William, son of Richard de la Grene of Kirkeby, confirmed to Sir Richard de Cam, and Maud his wife, in the sixth of Edward I. for 8 marks, all his lands in this town, Stockton, Hales, &c. with the services, homages, rents, &c. except the capital messuage in Kirkeby. Witness, John de Waleton, master of the hospital of St. Bartholomew, in London; this 3d part was thus united, and so came to Gavel's manor, &c. as above.

 

Ralph Lord Bainard was lord of a manor in this town. When Domesday book was made, Ulmar, a freeman of King Edward, held it with 30 acres of land; Robert, son of Corbun, laid claim to this land, and had livery; there belonged to it 2 borderers, one servus, 2 carucates, and half a carucate of the tenants, &c. with 3 acres of meadow. There were also 8 freemen belonging to the lord's fold, and under his protection, with 20 acres, and 2 carucates and half an acre of meadow; valued at the survey at 40s. but before at 20s. It came to Bainard by an exchange. (fn. 8)

 

By the forfeiture of the Lord Bainard, this came to the Lords FitzWalter, and was called Loot's or Lowt's fee, being held by John Loot, of the Lord Fitz-Walter, in the 3d of Henry III. Roger de Hales had an interest herein about the same time, and John de Hales in the 2d year of Edward III. this was soon after united to the abovementioned manors.

 

About 1266, William de Wendling had a messuage, &c. with several rents, services, here, in Raveningham, &c. which Philip Loot had conveyed to him, and William gave them to the canon of Langley, and were confirmed by Robert Lord Fitz-Walter. Henry Walpole held this Lowt's fee, and owed to the abbot of Langley, in the 12th of Henry VI. 10l. 4s. 2d. arrears of rent for the land and tenements here and in Stockton, formerly George Felbrigg's.

 

Eustace Earl of Bologne, in France, had also a lordship, of which Osmund, a thane of Archbishop Stigand was deprived; Ralph de Beaufoe had an interest in it after Osmund, but at the survey, Warine held it under Eustace.

 

In King Edward's time there was one carucate of land, and a borderer, with one carucate and 3 acres of meadow, &c. and 4 freemen under commendation, with 15 acres and hall a carucate, valued at 15s. (fn. 9)

 

Warine was ancestor of the family of De Meynwarine of Cheshire.

 

The temporalities of Bury abbey here, in 1428, were valued at 11l. 0s. 6d. of the prioress of Campsey 3s. 5d. ob.

 

The Church is a rectory dedicated to All-Saints, and the patronage belonged to the abbot of Bury's manor.

 

In the 14th of Henry III. Walter de Cam and Mary his wife, could not deny on an assise, but that Roger de Tweyt, and Roger de Stockton, were parceners with them in the advowson of this church, of the inheritance which was Alexander's, son of Godebald de Kirkeby, therefore they all presented at this time, which proves that they had it by inheritance. In 1220, there was a composition between the monks of St. Ildevert of Gurnay in France, and Master Walter, dean of Flegg hundred, of the tithe of some sheafs of corn, out of the abbot's manor, held by Sir R. de Cam.

 

In the 52d of Henry III. Richard de Thwait and William de Stockton granted by fine the advowson to Richard de Cam.

 

Rectors.

 

In 1268, Laurence de Monteforti was instituted rector, presented by Richard de Cam.

 

The rector in the reign of Edward I. had a house and a carucate of land, the valor was 15 marks, Peter-pence 22d. carvage 9d.

 

1311, Walter de Hekungham by Walter de Cam: this Walter aliened to the rector three acres of land in the 7th of Edward II.

 

1326, John de Cam, by Roger Gavel.

 

1328, William de Merche. Ditto.

 

1330, Roger Gavel, occurs rector.

 

1351, Robert de Weston, by William de Wychingham, guardian of Nicholas Gavel.

 

1355, John Foucher, by ditto.

 

1361, Nicholas Batchelor, by ditto.

 

1378, William de Redham, by Nicholas Batchelor of Wychingahm, Sir Wythred of Denton, and John Bole of Wodeton, Thomas Storme of Blakeney, and Elen Myniot, (fn. 10) patrons.

 

1379, Nicholas Jacob, by Thomas Storme, and Elen Myniot, and John Wythred chaplain.

 

1389, Walter Gerard, by ditto.

 

1393, Thomas Busk, by Robert Gavel.

 

1418, John Bassys on, by ditto.

 

1420, John Vernon Ditto.

 

1449, Robert Hare, by Thomas Gavel.

 

1497, Thomas Mortimer, by Thomas Gavel.

 

1511, Thomas Grene, by ditto.

 

1540, Robert Hilton, by Edward Calthorpe, Esq. and Thomasine his wife.

 

1565, Thomas Fell, by John Copledyke, Esq.

 

1570, German Gardiner, by ditto.

 

1571, Robert Hill, by ditto.

 

1579, Richard Davison, by ditto; in 1603, he returned 58 communicants.

 

1619, Thomas Potts, A. M. by Richard Catelyn, Esq.

 

1646, John Watson, by Richard Catelyne, Esq. he wrote a book in octavo, called Memoirs of the Stuarts, printed at London in 1689, after his death; he was ejected during the rebellion.

 

1662, John Hardware, by Richard Catelyne, Esq.

 

1690, William Randall, by Sir Nevil Catelyne.

 

1700, Abraham Baker, by ditto.

 

1733, Samuel Baker, by Sir Charles Turner, Knt.

 

In the chancel by the communion table are several grave-stones; one,

 

In memory of Mary, daughter of Sir Robert Houghton, the first wife of Richard Catelyne of Kirby Cane, Esq. by whom she had 2 sons and 2 daughters; Thomas the eldest, a man of great hopes; at 21 was captain of a troop of horse for king Charles I and slain by the rebels at the 2a Newbury fight 1644.—Mary, the eldest daughter, married Edward Ward of Bixley, in Norfolk, Esq. and died without issue; Robert and Judith died young; she died in 1633, in the 45th year of her age.

 

Another,

 

In memory of Judith, daughter of Edward Elrington of Theydon Boys, in Essex, Esq. and wife of Thomas Catelyne, Esq. who dyed in 1615.

 

Thomas Catelyne, Esq. son of Richard Catelyne of Honyngham, serjeant at law to king Philip and queen Mary: by his wife Judith, daughter of Edward Elrington, Esq. &c. he had Richard Catelyne of Kirby Cane, Esq. and Thomas Catelyne of Blofield, Gent.—Barbara, mother of Robert Bendish, Esq. and Judith, mother of Robert Houghton, Gent.; he died in 1636.

 

Exuviæ viri plene memorabilis, Rici. Catelyn, Armigi. qui vitam exuit A°. Ætatis 79, A°. 1662.

 

Quod mortale fuit reliquum est Dorotheæ, Rici. Catelyn, Armigi. uxoris ex prænobili Nevillorum familiâ, in com. Berc. oriundæ, obt. 29 Sept. A°. Ætatis 67, et A°. 1672.

 

Thomas et Nevillus, filij Nevilli Catelyn, Equitis Aurati, et Dorotheæ conjugis redamatæ ex antiquâ familiâ de Bedingfeld, in agro Suffolc. oriundæ, infantes ambo, bimuli, heic præmaturam posuerunt mortalitatem. Thomas in Anno Dni. 1662, Nevillus A°. 1663.

 

M. S. Elizab. Catelyne, cujus pars melior cum Deo, et semper fuit semperq; est futura, quæ dum mortalibus convixit nobis benignum nuper sydus præluxit. Fratris verè germani Nevilli Catelyne, Equitis Aurati, soror; supra quam dici potest dilecta; cujus res domesticas ad annos non paucos, summâ cum prudentiâ administravit.

 

Quam primæva in Deum pietas, piè profusa in pauperes charitas. Intaminata in se castitas, probataq; in omnes relationes bonitas, opimæ famæ reddidere saturam. Cunctorum passim bonorum cum luctu denatam, puriore ævo vere dignam. Terræ parumper peregrinam, sempiternam cæli piè credimus incolam. Obt. Feb. 5°. 1681. Ætat. suæ 41.

 

Amoris nunquam intermorituri tessellam hanc posuit Nevillus Catelyn, Miles.

 

Radulphus filius natu tertius Richardi Catelyn, Armigi. et Dorotheæ uxoris ejus (ex prænobili Nevillorum familiâ) ætate quinquenni diem clausit Ao. Dni. 1645.

 

Against the north wall of the chancel was erected a little tomb of free-stone, which had an epitaph, many years past, through time obliterated; it was,

 

In memory of John Copledike, Esq. who was here buried, April 12, 1593, who left Thomasine, his daughter and co-heir.

 

On the west end of this tomb were the arms of Gavell, sable, a chevron between three garbs, argent, with an impalement now obscure.

 

On the body of the tomb, the single shield of Copledike, argent, a chevron between three cross crosslets, gules:—also Copledike, with his quarterings; 1st, Gavell—2d, a saltire, but obscure—3d, lozengy ermin and gules, Rockeley,—4th, or, a chief gules, with a bend over all, azure, Harrington—5th, azure, a saltire, between four cross crosslets, or, Friskeny, impaling Woodhouse of Kimberley:—also Copledike, with his quarterings, impaling, azure, a chevron between three acorns slipt, or, Hayfield. Copledike's crest here is a goat's head, argent, issuing out of a coronet.

 

Beatam expectans resurrectionem, sub hoc marmore obdormit Gulielmus Randall, A. M. hujus ecclesiæ quondam rector et benefactor Probitate et amicitiâ clarus, et mirè constans, sinceræ et non fucatæ pietatis exemplar. Matildam filiam Johs. Hawys, M. D. duxit, e quá unicam filiam nomine Mariam reliquit. Obt. 13 cal. Apr. Ætat. 49, Ao. salulis 1699.

 

Johs. Hardwar, rector hujus ecclesiæ, hic jacet in spe resurrectionis, cælebs, obt. 21, die Febr. Ao. ætat. 75, salutis 1689.

 

Here rests Margaret, wife of Abraham Baker, rector, and three of their children; she was daughter of the Rev. Mr. Pycroft, late rector of Ditchingham, and died March 20, 1717, aged 36.

 

Here lies the body of Anne, wife of John Chambers of Kirby Cane, Gent. who died Feb. 3, 1681.

 

Sir Nevill Catelyne is buried in a vault here, which he built several years before his death, which was in July 1702, also Mrs. Elizabeth Catelyne, his daughter, was here interred in 1685, as was Mrs. Philippa Culpeper in 1719.

 

In 1559, Thomas Hare, Gent. was here buried, and in 1557, Mrs. Thomasine Calthorp.—Edmund, son of Edward Calthorp, Esq. in 1567.—Mrs. Maud Copledike, wife of John Copledike, Esq. in 1589.

 

In 1286, Sir Richard de Cam was here buried.

 

The present valor is 10l. and pays first fruits and tenths.

 

¶It is generally said that towns beginning with Kirke, signifies that their site is by some church, (fn. 11) but it rather is a compound word, and wrote, as in Domesday, Ker, Che, or Ke; Kerkstead is wrote Ker-chessstead, Ches, or Che, signifies always water, and Ker, is tbe same as Car; thus Carbroke is wrote Cherebroc, and sets forth a clear water, as Kercheby does a dwelling by clear water.

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

----------------------------------------------------

 

The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

----------------------------------------------------

 

The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

----------------------------------------------------

 

The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

----------------------------------------------------

 

The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

----------------------------------------------------

 

The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

----------------------------------------------------

 

The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

----------------------------------------------------

 

The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

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The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

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Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

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The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

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The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

I could see the tower of a church from the main road. I saw it from a good two miles away, towering over the mature trees of a wood.

 

It must be one heck of a church I thought, turning down the lane leading to it, to find the lane lead to Worstead.

 

Worstead: that explained it. A village so associated with wool, a type of woolen cloth is named after it.

 

Beside the church is the market square, lined with fine buildings, and to the west, St Mary. A huge cathedral of a church. After snapping the village, I walk to the porch on the south side and go in, smiling.

 

I was met by a warden who saw the look of delight on my face, and took me on a grand tour. How lucky was I?

 

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In the reign of Edward the Confessor, the lordship of this town belonged to the abbot of St. Bennet of Holm, with 2 carucates and an half of land, 8 villains, 30 borderers, 2 carucates in demean, 3 among the tenants, 8 acres of meadow, paunage for 16 swine, a mill, and 3 socmen, valued at 60s. and at the survey at 4l.

 

There were 2 churches with 28 acres, valued therein, and was for the provision of the monks.

 

At the survey, Robert, an officer of the cross-bow-men, held it of the abbot; it was one leuca long, and half a leuca broad and a perch, and paid 18d. gelt. St. Bennet's abbey held also in the said town, in King Edward's time, a carucate of land, with 2 villains, 10 borderers, one carucate in demean, and 2 among the tenants and 2 acres of meadow, &c. valued at 40s. (fn. 1)

 

Odo, son of Robert, the cross-bowman, assumed, according to the custom of that age, the name of Warsted, from this his town and lordship; he held it of the abbot by one knight's fee, being the gift of King Canute to the abbey on his foundation of it. (fn. 2)

 

This Odo. and Robert his son, gave lands to the abbey, and the mill at Bordestede. He was father of Peter, whose son Philip held one fee in the 20th of Henry III.

 

Nicholas son of Philip de Wursted, gave to the abbot all his lands here by deed, dated in the 2d of Edward I. Henry being then abbot.

 

Richard de Worstede was also a son of Odo, and had by Margaret his wife, daughter of Robert de Manteby, Sir Robert de Worstede, who died sans issue.—This Sir Robert and Sir John de Worstede, were witnesses to a deed of confirmation, of Jeffrey, son of Bartholomew de Glanvile, to Bromholm priory.

 

The temporalities of the abbot in 1428, were 3l. 12s. ob. q. This came at the Dissolution, to the see of Norwich; and in the 3d and 4th of Philip and Mary, was farmed of the Bishop, at 41s. and 3d. per ann. by Bertram Themilthorp.

 

The prior of Pentney had a lordship, granted to that house by John de Worstede, containing a messuage, a carucate of land, a mill, 50s. rent, 10 acres of wood, with the whole pond of Worstede and Crowbeck, and the whole alder carr, regranted by Simon the prior, to John for life.

 

In the year 1328, the temporalities of this prory were valued at 8l. 10s. 4d.—On the Dissolution, May 22, in the 36th of Henry VIII. it was granted to John Spencer.

 

The prior also of Hempton had a manor, valued with a mill, &c. at 4l. 8s. 11d. which on the Dissolution was granted as above, to John Spencer. Leonard Spencer and Catherina his wife, sold both these lordships to Robert Paston, and Thomas Thimblethorp, with their appertenances in Sloley, Westwick, &c. on June 3, in the 8th of Elizabeth; and after they are said to be aliened to — Utber, and so to — Mitson.

 

Matthew de Gunton had a manor here which he granted to William, son of William de Stalham, on his marriage with Isabel his daughter, being 49s. 3d. rent. This came to Sir Jeffrey Wythe, by his marriage with the daughter and heir of Sir William Stalham.

 

In the 9th of Edward II. Nicholas de Salicibus or of the Willows, and Elen his wife, conveyed to Jeffrey Wythe, and Isabel his wife, the 5th part of 28 messuages, 114 acres of land, 5 of turbary, with 27s. and 8d. rent here, in Dilham and Smalburgh, settled on Isabel; and Wynesia, widow of Sir Oliver Wythe, released to William Dunning of this town, all her right of dower in this town, and Westwick.

 

After this it came to Sir William Calthorp, by the marriage of Amy, daughter and heir of Sir John Wythe, and was sold by Edward Calthorp, Esq. of Kirby Cane, December 8, in the 21st of Henry VIII. to Leonard Spencer of Blofield, Gent. for 40l. in hand paid, and 40 marks more on full assurance being made. John Spencer was lord in the 2d of Edward VI. and Leonard Spencer in 1572.

 

Erpingham and Gaines's manor in Irstede, held by John Gross, Esq. at his death in 1408, which he left to his widow Margaret, extended into this town. John Skarburgh, Gent. had a prœcipe to deliver it to Miles Bayspoole, Gent. in the first of James I.

 

Before this, in the 17th of Elizabeth, William Chytham conveyed it to William Tymberley. The Grosses were early enfeoffed of a lordship under the abbot of Holm. Reginald le Gross was lord in the reign of Henry III. and had a charter for a weekly mercate on Friday.

 

Sir Oliver de Ingham held here and in Ingham, a knight's fee of Robert de Tateshale, in the first of Edward I. This came afterwards by the heiress of Ingham to the Stapletons; and in the 2d of Richard II. Sir Roger Boys, &c. trustees, aliened to the prior of the Holy Trinity of Ingham, a messuage, with 84 acres of land, 3 of meadow, one of pasture, in Worstede and Scothow, by license.

 

Thomas Moore, &c. aliened to the said convent, in the 16th of that King, 8 messuages, 221 acres of land, 22 of meadow, 4 of moor, and the rent of 11s. 11d. per ann. in this town, Ingham, Walcot, &c. held of the honour of Eye.

 

In the 3d of Henry IV. the prior's manor, late Sir Oliver de Ingham's, was held of Sir Constantine Clifton, of the barony of Tateshale.

 

The prior of Bromholm had also a lordship. In the 3d of Henry IV. the heirs of William Smalburgh held here and in Barton, &c. half a fee of the prior, with William Sywardby, and they of the Earl of Suffolk, as part of the honour of Eye, in 1428. The temporalities of this monastery were 104s. 2d. ob.

 

After the Dissolution, on May 26, in the 6th year of Edward VI. it was granted to Henry Grey Duke of Suffolk.

 

William Gillet, son and heir of William, had a messuage, a garden, 100 acres of land, 6 of meadow, 20 of pasture, and 2 of wood, called Fenn's and Skitt's, in the 23d of Elizabeth. John Kempt aliened it September 1, in the 7th of King James I. to Edmund Themilthorpe.

 

Thomas Seive of Worsted, had land here by the marriage of Margarel, one of the daughters of Sir James de Ilketeshale, Knt. of Suffolk, in the reign of Henry VI. she dying about the 30th of that King, left 3 daughters and coheirs; Cecilia, married to John Ovy, who left his lands here by will, in 1472, to Thomas his son, &c. by Emme his wife. Jane, a daughter and coheir of Seive, married William Smith; and Margaret, the 3d, Thomas Jeffrey.

 

The tenths were 14l. 10s. ob. q Deducted 1l. 19s. 1d. ob.

 

The town is seated in a flat country, and has a weekly mercate on Saturday

 

Worsted stuffs are said to have taken that name from their being first manufactured here. I find them mentioned in the 2d year of Edward III. and the weavers and workers were then by parliament enjoined to work them up to a better assise than they had done; and an enquiry was to be made after the behaviour of Robert P - - - the alnager for these stuffs.

 

Many privileges were after granted to the workers of them, Ao. 1 Richard II. &c. the merchants came into England, as appears in the 37th of Edward III. to purchase them.

 

The Church is dedicated to St. Mary, has a nave, 2 isles, and a chancel covered with lead, and a square tower with 6 bells, and was a rectory in the patronage of the family of De Worstede.

 

Sir Robert de Worsted, son of Richard de Worstede, gave by deed, (fn. 3) sans date, to the priory of Norwich, the patronage of this church, about the beginning of the reign of King Henry III. to which Sir John de Wirstede, Bartholomew de Reedham, Eustace de Berningham, &c. were witnesses; and by another deed, he gave to them the chapel of St. Andrew, in this town: witnesses, Sir G. de Bocland, John de Wirstede, Jordan de Soukeville, then an itinerant justice in Norfolk, which was confirmed by Pandulf Bishop of Norwich.

 

He also gave them lands with certain villains, the abbot of Holm also confirmed it.

 

Sir Reginald le Gross quitclaimed all his right in the aforesaid church and chapel, to Simon the prior, and the convent of Norwich.

 

Thomas de Blundevile Bishop of Norwich, also confirmed to them the said church, to take place on the decease of John de Wurchestede, and Adam de Wurchestede, who then held it in 1226; and in 1256, on the 8th of the calends of August, a vicarage was settled on the appropriation of the said church to the monks of Norwich, when a manse or house was given to the vicar, with an acre of land, by the chapel of St. Andrew with all the altarage of the church, (except the tithes of the mills) and the rents of assise belonging to the said chapel, and the oblations thereof; but if the oblations and profits of the said chapel exceeded 5 marks, the remainder was to go to the prior and convent, and the vicar was to repair the said chapel, and to find all ornaments, &c.

 

The vicar was also to have tithe of flax, hemp, and all other small tithes, it was appropriated to the prior's table, and to the cellarer of the priory; but after this, in the first of April following, it was appropriated entirely to the prior's table, and the church of Hemlington in Norfolk, appropriated to him instead of this.

 

In the reign of Edward I. there belonged to the appropriated rectory, a house, with 27 acres and a rood of land, and the church was valued at 25 marks, the vicarage at 5l. Peter-pence, 12d. and the portion of Kerbrook preceptory was 3s.—The prior had also a manor, Edward I. in his 35th year granting him free warren.

 

Vicars.

 

1256, Warin de Festorton, instituted vicar, presented by the prior and convent of Norwich.

 

John occurs vicar in 1299.

 

1304, Edmund Johnes, vicar.

 

Peter de Reynham, vicar.

 

1346, William de Aldeby.

 

1353, Oliver de Wytton.

 

1355, Roger de Felthorp.

 

1357, John de Massingham.

 

1365, John de Kynneburle; in his time, Ao. 2d of Richard II. the chancel of this church was new built; the prior granted 13 oaks out of Plumsted wood, and timber also out of St. Leonard's wood; and the expenses in money were 24l. 4l. 4d.

 

1386, Edmund Martyn, vicar.

 

On the dissolution of the priory, the manor belonging to it, with the rectory, and the patronage of the vicarage, were granted to the dean and chapter of Norwich; and the vicarage is valued at 10l. per ann.

 

Mr. Henry Aldred, vicar.

 

In 1603, William Fleming, vicar, returned 296 communicants 1730.

 

1660, Edmund Wharton, (fn. 4) occurs vicar.

 

Mr. William Berney.

 

Richard Oram, by the dean and chapter of Norwich.

 

1762, Ephr. Megoe.

 

On a gravestone in the chancel,

 

Hic lapis in pannis Spicer tenet ossa Johannis Qui Quadringentesimo pius XL et iii - - - - Anno.

 

Hic jacet D'ns. Johs. Yop. quo'da' Rector. Ecclie de Boton.

 

¶Sir Robert Camownde, priest, was buried in 1482, in the chapel of St. John, of this church, and wills that all the said chapel be paved with marbyll stone, and to the gravestone of John Ovy, with his goods. (fn. 5) —Richard Watls buried in St. John Baptist's chapel 1509, and I will have a prest to sing and pray 6 years in the church except the Fryday in ev'ry week, in the chapel of St. Andrew of Worsted. Agnes Watts, his widow, buried in the said chapel, 1529, and benefactrix to the guilds of our Lady and St. Thomas, and to the repair of St. Andrew's chapel, and gives meadow land to find two lamps in the church for ever, if the King's laws will permit, otherwise to be sold and to buy cattle for that purpose.

 

Here was also St. John Baptist's guild. In the church were these arms; Gules, on a fess, argent, three flowers, azure, between three popinjays, borne by—prior of Norwich. Argent, a cross, sable, the priory arms. Calthorp and Stapleton.

 

www.british-history.ac.uk/topographical-hist-norfolk/vol1...

 

--------------------------------------------

 

As a measure of how civilised East Anglia is, it is a simple and cheap matter to explore the region by train and bicycle. There is a flat rate of nine pounds a day for unlimited travel between stations in Suffolk, Norfolk and East Cambridgeshire. You can take a bike on any train for a pound, although in reality conductors rarely charge for this service. This practice dates back to pre-privatisation days, and Anglia Railways and One Trains have continued to honour it, for which I am mightily grateful. The Suffolk and Norfolk Churches sites would not be so extensive without it.

 

I left Ipswich at twenty to eight. It was a thinly bright April morning, the sun without power beyond dazzling through the haze in the eastern sky. I was glad of my jacket, but also glad I had sun glasses with me - it was going to be a perfect day for a bike ride.

 

As the train plodded through Ipswich's monotonous northern suburbs, I examined the ordnance survey map. I flicked through Pevsner and Mortlock, as industrial units gave way to green fields, copses and the winding Gipping. Restless, I gazed out the window. A swan awoke on a lake near Needham Market, stretching itself and beating its wings into life. Crows raided a skip on rubble near the Stowmarket paint factory. Then we were really in the countryside, rushing headlong through the sleepy fields beyond Haughley and Mendelsham. Near Finningham, a large female deer cowered silently in the hedge, not ten metres from the track. A few minutes later, and a wise old hare huddled in a furrow, flat-eared, patient.

 

The train pulled into the gathering surprise of Norwich. I hauled my bike a couple of platforms over to the Sheringham line. Other people out for the day got on, including a couple dressed in vintage railway costumes. I assumed they were bound for the steam line at Sheringham. Again, the monotony of another city's suburbs petered out into agricultural business, this time in bright sunshine, and so it was that just after nine o'clock we arrived at Worstead station. I was the only person to get off. "See you later" called the conductor cheerily as I rode off of the platform into the lane, and of course he was right. There is only one train that shuttles back and forth along this line all day, and he was in charge of it.

 

I cycled from the station up into the village, a distance of about two miles. I didn't pass anyone, and here in the large village there was nobody about, just a fat cat lazily rolling in the village square. The sun was cutting the haze, the sky wide and blue. It was like being in France.

 

The church is absolutely enormous, and hemmed in a tight little graveyard. My resolution to take more distant shots went right out the window. Like Salle, and Southwold in Suffolk, St Mary was all built in one go, pretty much. This happened in the late 14th century. As at Salle, it is reflective of a large number of bequests from different people over a short period rather than anyone fabulously rich doing it on their own, and the money, of course, came from wool. Worstead is still the name of a fabric today.

 

I said it was pretty much built at one go, but there was still plenty of money about in the 15th century to raise the clerestory and install a hammerbeam roof. This seems to have been such an ambitious project that flying buttresses had to be installed on top of the aisles to hold the top of the nave up, an expedient measure that has left the building both interesting and beautiful.

 

Inside, I feared another Happisburgh, but it was gorgeous. Stepping out of the sunlight into the slight chill of a vast open space, I wandered around feasting on this stunningly lovely building.

 

As regular users of the sites will know, I don't always warm to big churches, but St Mary is so pretty inside that it is hard not to love it. This is partly helped by the removal of all pews and benches from the aisle. Those that remain in the body of the church are lovely 18th century box pews, quite out of keeping with the medieval nature of the rest of the building, but quirky and oddly delightful. The great tower arch is elegant, and is thrown into relief by the towering font cover. The ringing gallery under the tower is dated 1501, and is reminiscent of the one at Cawston. The tower screen below it takes the breath away, and you find yourself looking around to see where it could have come from. In fact, it is almost certainly a work of the Victorians, but it is pretty well perfect. The paintings in the dado are apparently copies of windows by Sir Joshua Reynolds at New College, Oxford.

 

Worstead is rightly famous for its screen, but this is more because of its height, elegance and completeness than it is its authenticity. The figures on the dado have been repainted so recklessly that it is rather hard to see who some of them were ever meant to be. As at Woolpit in Suffolk, the Victorians appear to have repainted them more with an eye to enthusiasm than accuracy. I stood there, fantasising, making up stories, until, alongside familiar figures like St Peter, St James and St Matthew, I had identified St Lassitude, the patron Saint of a quiet night in, depicted reading his book. Other Saints, identified by their symbols, include St Quirinus with his hamster, and St Obligamus with his golden pineapple. Or so it seemed to me.

 

Not much less odd are the two figures on the extreme right. The Victorians do not appear to have repainted them. The first shows a man holding three nails, and is probably St William of Norwich, more familiar from the screen at Loddon. The second shows a figure crucified, arms tied to the spans. This may be the infamous Uncumber, the bearded lady of early medieval mythology - she grew a beard to fend off unwanted suitors, although you can't help thinking there'd be a niche market for that kind of thing somewhere on the internet. Later, she was crucified, probably upside down. This figure is probably a woman, so nothing seems to fit better, although she isn't bearded as far as I could see. Situated on the extreme right, she is reflected by a crucified Christ as the Man of Sorrows on the extreme left.

 

Across the top rail, a dedicatory inscription winds, mysterious and beautiful.

 

Either side of the chancel arch and screen, the two aisle chapels are both in use, which is unusual and lovely. Both have small screens, each with just four figures. That on the north side is particularly lovely, and is where the blessed sacrament is reserved. The four figures are St Peter, St Bartholomew, St John the Baptist and St John the Divine. At least three of these are also on the rood screen, suggesting that either the images there are wholly Victorian, or these aisle screens came originally from elsewhere.

 

The south aisle chapel is simpler - it is here you enter the church through the priest door. The screen features another St Bartholomew, along with St Lawrence, St Philip and a Bishop.

 

St Mary is a building to wander around in, a place to enjoy for its great beauty rather than to interrogate for its medieval authenticity. As you turn corners, vistas open up; the view from the font to the south door, for example, or that back to the west from the chancel. All perfect, all stunning. The high church nature of the modern furnishings chimes perfectly with these architectural treats. And there are other significant medieval survivals - a fine brass of a Catholic priest, scraps of wall painting beside the chancel arch, and so on.

 

As at other churches in this benefice, the war memorial is complemented by photographs of all those commemorated. What a splendid idea, and what a labour of love. Also in common with other churches around here, St Mary has a second hand bookstall. As I explored the Worstead area, I found myself buying more and more of them, until by the time I got back to Ipswich station that evening, my rucksack was laden down with a dozen or more.

 

Simon Knott, April 2005

 

www.norfolkchurches.co.uk/worstead/worstead.htm

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

----------------------------------------------------

 

The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

Ian's on the road again, wearing different shoes again.

 

Or something.

 

Yes, have audit will travel is taking me back to the north west and head office (UK) in Warrington.

 

I wasn't keen to go, as I would be one of those being audited, rather than being the auditor.

 

So it goes.

 

Up even earlier than usual, Jools went swimming first thing, while I woke up and packed.

 

It was to be a bright if cold day, and the promise of actual snow once I reached Manchester, so that was something to look forward to. No?

 

Jools dropped me off on the prom so I could have a walk, take some snaps before picking up the car.

 

It was cold.

 

Not Canada cold, clearly.

 

Minus three. And too cold to linger to watch the actual sunrise, so made do with snapping the reflected light of the hotels and a ferry coming into the harbour. I walked over Townwall Street, now cold to the bone, hoping the car hire place would be open on time.

 

It wasn't, but a couple of minutes later, a guy came to open up and let me inside where it was slightly warmer.

 

My old ruse of getting an automatic thus getting a larger car was ruined this time was I was given a Toyota Yaris. It struggled to get up Jubilee Way without the engine screaming. You'd better behave yourself for the next three days I told it.

 

Back home for breakfast, load the car and say goodbye to the cats. One last look, and I was off. The car had no sat nav, so had to use the phone.

 

Before going to the hotel, I was going to visit a former colleague who lives in Warrington, or nearly St Helens as I found out later, so programmed her address in, and off I went, along our street and towards the A2 and the long slog up to Dartford.

 

I connected my phone to charge, and straight away tunes from my Apple music store started playing. So, apart from the free U2 album it forced on all users, the rest was good if a little Skids and Velvet Underground heavy.

 

The miles were eaten up, even if I had to turn the music way up to drown the sound of the screaming engine.

 

Like all trips, I had something extra to sweeten the time away, and in this case it was a church. But not just any church, as you will see.

 

I watched a short documentary on Monday about Mary Queen of Scots, and remembered that she had been imprisoned and executed at Fotheringhay Castle in what is now Northamptonshire, and if I went over the Dartford Crossing, up the M11 to Cambridge, then were the A14 crossed the Great North Road, ten miles north was Fotheringhay.

 

So, I pressed on, under the river and into Essex, then along to the bottom of the M11, and north past Stanstead to Cambridge. Traffic wasn't bad, so I made good time, my phone telling me I would reach Fotheringhay at midday.

 

Turning off the A1, down narrow lanes, then the view to the church opens up, in what is possibly one of the finest vistas in all of England. St Mary and All Saints, 15th century and in its Perpendicular finest, it looks too good to be that old, but is.

 

Not only is the church mostly as it was, if plain inside, this was the parish church of the House of York, of several Kings including the final, Richard III.

 

This is real history.

 

I crossed over the narrow hump-back bridge that spanned the fast flowing, and nearly flooding, River Neane, into the village and parked outside the church. A set of grand gates lead off the main road to the northern porch, lined with fine trees, naked it being winter.

 

The tower seems over-large for the Nave and Chancel, it stands 116 feet tall, and is a chonker, the rest of the church seems small beside it, but the interior of the church is a large space, high to its vaulted roof.

 

I take shots, not as many as perhaps I should, but the church doesn't have centuries of memorials, but does have two House of York tombs, or mausoleums.

 

I had some time, so I thought I would visit any interesting church I might see before getting back on the A14.

 

That was the plan.

 

The road took me round Oundle, which had at least two interesting looking churches, but them being what you might call "urban", I passed both and carried on over the rolling hills of Northamptonshire, much hillier than you might have thought.

 

Just before the A14, I see a large tower, and a lane lead to the village of Titchmarsh.

 

Titchmarsh is the name of a very famous TV gardener over here in Britain, not sure if this is where he hails from.

 

The village itself is set along a long high street, lined with half-timbered houses, most thatched, which was very picturesque.

 

I parked up, screams from the primary school, out for lunch, filled the air. But I had eyes on the church.

 

Oddly, on the north side, the churchyard is marked by a haha, or half of one.

 

A ha?

 

Certainly not a ditch, but there was a grille in the wall to allow water to get out.

 

Access to the church was over a small bridge, the grand porch in front.

 

The door opened easily, and I saw first, lots of wall paintings. Not old, perhaps Victorian.

 

I set to work taking shots, using the compact to snap close ups of the windows.

 

In truth, not much of great interest, and I was aware from the radio there being talk of snow.

 

Better get going and head north.

 

Back outside, my phone tells me I should be in Warrington by four, my friend, Teresa, wouldn't be home until half past, so I could have another break on the way.

 

The sat nav took me back to the A14, and from there it is just a 60 mile drive to the bottom of the M6 and then the hike two hours north.

 

At least it was a sunny day, though clouds were building, and was it my imagination, or did it look like snow falling already?

 

No, it was snow. big, fat, wet flakes at first, not much to worry about, but I pressed on past Coventry to the toll road, I sopped for half an hour there, enough time to have a drink and some crisps, then back outside where darkness was falling, as well as more snow.

 

The M6 might have had its upgrade complete, but a trip on it is rarely without delays. And for me, an hour delayed just before Warrington due to a crash, so we inched along in near darkness.

 

Teresa lived the other side of Warrington, so I had to press on further north, then along other main roads, round a bonkers roundabout before entering the town. Roads were lined with two up/two downs, doors leading straight onto the pavement. Cozy and northern.

 

They have two dog-mountains, I'm not sure of the breed, but think of something like a St Bernard and go bigger. They had just been for a walk, were damp and happy to be inside, laying on the kitchen floor. Taking up all the kitchen floor.

 

We talked for an hour, then I received a call from a guy I was supposed to be meeting up with: heavy snow was falling, I should get there sooner than later. So, I said my goodbyes and programmed the route to the hotel. Sorry, resort. Golf resort.

 

16 miles.

 

Snow was falling heavy, not too bad on main roads back to the motorway, though traffic on that was only going 40, it was fast enough. But the final six miles was long a main road, but it was covered in snow, with more falling.

 

The the fuel warning light went on.

 

Ignore that, I just wanted to get to the hotel safe and have dinner. Not end up in a hedge.

 

The final mile was very scary, snow only an inch deep, but slippery. There was a gatehouse marking the entrance to the golf club, I turned in and parked in the first space I came to.

 

Phew.

 

I checked in, and the place is huge, swish, but full of golfers.

 

But it does a sideline in conferences, training centre and a hotel. It was full.

 

I checked in, walked to the room, which is huge, and very comfortable, dropped my bags and went to the bar for dinner of beer and burgers. The place was almost empty, I watched cricket live from South Africa while I ate and drank.

 

Would I be tempted by the cheeseboard?

 

I would, dear reader, I would.

 

To my room to watch the football and relax while snow fell outside.

 

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Another bike ride into the wilds and wolds of Northamptonshire. I set off from Huntingdon railway station, and after a sixteen mile slog into the wind I crossed the county boundary at Clopton, a church I visited three weeks ago. Now, the real bike ride could now begin. Resisting a revisit to the church, I turned off on a very lonely, narrow lane through the woodlands. The Cambs/Northants borderlands are often like this, remote and lonely, wooded and rolling, devoid of houses outside the villages and with only the rare car, horse or other cyclist. It reminds me of parts of France.

   

After a couple of miles I came to Titchmarsh, and its splendid church, a big church in a pretty stone village. The tower is enormous ('The finest church tower in England outside of Somerset' - FJ Allen) and there is no spire. The churchyard is surrounded by a haha, with a little bridge across the moat. The church was being prepared for a rock concert, with a stage built up under the tower and tables and chairs in the nave. Not a huge amount to see in any case, although I liked the memorial to a servant who saved his master's life by getting in the way of an assassin's knife, only to later drown in the Nene. As you'd expect in this part of the world, good stone capitals in the arcades, with stiffleaves you could cut yourself on as well as dripping fruit.

   

And then it was on past the IKEA warehouse ('the largest building in the British Isles') into the town of Thrapston.

 

Simon Knott, July 2017.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/norfolkodyssey/35483761652/in/photo...

 

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The Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, standing in a prominent position on the higher ground to the North of the village, has been the centre of the Christian community in Titchmarsh for some 800 years.

 

The name of Tichmarsh (or the modern version Titchmarsh) seems to date from Anglo-Saxon times when a piece of land was granted to one Ticcea and became known as Ticcea’s marsh (Ticceanmersce, Tychemerche, etc).

 

The earliest records of the church date from 1240. It was from Tichmarsh that Viscount Lovell left his manor to fight with Richard III at Bosworth. Before that he had employed his Somerset mason to build what Pevsner described as “the noblest village tower outside Somerset”, on top of which in 1588 an Armada beacon was lit.

 

The church is remarkable for its magnificent tower, its long and lofty clerestory, its spacious chancel, and for its light and uncluttered interior. It also houses a collection of unique and interesting wall monuments, fine stained glass windows and a recently restored 1870 TC Lewis organ. (see separate links)

 

The building that you see today is not the first church to have existed on this site. The remains of a 12th century doorway in the chancel is the only relic of the Norman building, and the subsequent centuries have each made their distinctive architectural contribution. The building assumed its present appearance when, late in the 15th century, the tower, clerestory and porch were added, and the present perpendicular style windows were inserted. In the late 17th and early 18th century the Pickering family contributed a number of important memorials, including one to John Dryden the poet- laureate, who spent his childhood in Titchmarsh. In the 19th century a number of the windows had stained glass inserted, a vestry was added in the northwest corner, and much of the internal woodwork was replaced (including the pews, recently adapted to provide more mobile seating).

 

The focus of the church, both architecturally and spiritually, is the Altar. This is God’s table, at which the faithful share in the power of Christ’s Risen Life, by feeding on the Sacrament of his Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine. The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster (1866) depicts the Old Testament scenes of Melchizedek’s offering of bread and wine, and Abraham’s offering of his only son Isaac, illustrating different aspects of the eucharistic theme.

 

The semi-circular Norman arch to the south side is a visible reminder that Christian worship has been offered on this site for at least some eight centuries.

 

The two-level sedilia and the piscine are of the 13th century, as is also the arcading which opens into the north chapel (now occupied by the organ). The opening known as a hagioscope or squint, gave additional visual access from the north chapel to the High Altar. The low, pointed 13th century doorway to the north of the Altar probably led to a tomb or chantry adjoining the Chancel on the north side. Much of this work can be attributed to the patronage of the Lovel family, who were Lords of the Manor from about 1268 until 1485.

 

Piercing the north-west corner of the Chancel wall are the remains of the stairway which originally led to the Rood-loft.

 

Dimly discernible in the apex of the Chancel arch is a crowned head. Experts suggest that it most closely resembles Edward IV who died in 1483 when Francis 1st (and only) Viscount Lovel was Lord of the Manor. The last years of the reign of Edward IV covered a peaceful period, favourable to the rebuilding of a church. In 1486 Henry VII granted the Manor of Tichmarsh to Sir Charles Somerset when Francis Lord Lovel who had supported Richard III was deprived of his estates at the end of the War of the Roses. This is the Lovell, who as Richard III’s Chamberlain and friend, was lampooned in the contemporary rhyme:

 

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

 

Rule all England under the Hog’.

 

The walls and windows of the chancel were much embellished in Victorian times. The stained glass in the chancel windows is all by Messrs. Hardman of Birmingham. The east window depicts Christ’s Nativity, Baptism, Crucifixion and Ascension, and several episodes from the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the church is dedicated. The windows on the south side of the chancel depict various incidents from the New Testament, giving particular prominence to St Mary Magdalene and St Peter.

 

The reredos of Caen stone and Derby alabaster were completed.

 

The organ, a good example of the work of TC Lewis was installed and first used in 1870. (fully restored in 2016). We learn from the Parish Magazine that prior to the installation of the instrument, music for Devine service had been supplied by a barrel organ, the introduction of which in 1837 replaced the services of the eight singers who had occupied a musicians gallery under the tower, and sang very loud. Singing was also led by string and woodwind instruments until 1861.

 

According to the parish magazines, the paintings on the chancel walls were by Miss Agnes Saunders, who was sister-in-law to the Rev. F M Stopford, (rector 1861-1912). The fine limed oak chancel screen was the gift of Canon A M Luckock, (rector 1912-1962).

 

The North Chapel and Transept

This was largely rebuilt in the 14th century, and now houses many mural memorials to the Pickering family

 

Gilbert Pickering bought the manor of Tichmarsh from Charles Somerset’s grandson in 1553, and for more than two hundred years it remained in the possession of his descendants. When the direct line came to an end, the estates were acquired in 1778 by Thomas Powys, later the first Lord Lilford.

 

John Pickering married Susannah Dryden of Canons Ashby in 1609, and twenty-one years later, Susannah’s brother Erasmus married John’s cousin Mary Pickering. Of these unions were born two men well known in the highest circles of their day, the notorious Sir Gilbert Pickering (1613-1668) and the famous John Dryden the poet (1631-1700).

 

Sir Gilbert was a convinced Parliamentarian, and became Lord Chamberlain to Oliver Cromwell. John Dryden’s upbringing in Tichmarsh is mentioned in one of the memorials. This and another were painted by Sir Gilbert’s daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of John Creed.

 

A woman of talent with needle, pen and brush, Elizabeth Creed was responsible also for the wording of the altar tomb and wall angle memorials of the south aisle as well as the Dryden monument which has been moved to the north transept.

 

The South Aisle

Here we find Mrs Creed lamenting the death of her husband, a boon companion of Samuel Pepys, of their son Christ’s family. By ancient custom the Font stands near the main (west) door of the physical building, as a reminder that it is through Baptism that we enter Christ’s Church.

 

The West Window

The tracery of the tower window is 15th century, (extensively restored in 2016). In 1904 the west window was filled with stained glass, the gift of Rev’d F M Stopford to mark his 50th year in Holy Orders. It is a powerful representation of Christ’s Second Coming and the Day of Judgement, and approximately balances the episodes of Christ’s first Advent depicted in the east window. The same firm of artists, Messrs Hardman of Birmingham, was employed for the work, and it is interesting to notice how the passage of some forty years makes a considerable difference in style and taste between the tower window and their earlier work.

 

The Bells

The tower houses a fine ring of eight bells. All were recast and re-hung in 1913 as a memorial to Rev’d F M Stopford who died in office in 1912 having been rector for 51 years, and a chaplain to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Before recasting, the oldest bells dated from 1688, with additions in 1708 and 1781. The ring was completed in1885 by the gift of two bells in memory of Florence Augusta Stopford, the rector’s first wife. At the same time the present church clock, which strikes the hours and quarters, replaced the previous one made by George Eayre in 1745.

 

At the base of the tower are some interesting photographs of the re-hanging of the bells.

 

The South Porch

The original porch was a single storey structure, with window openings to east and west. The upper storey was added in1583 and housed the Pickering family pew, complete with fire place! After the death of the last Tichmarsh Pickerings the wall opening was blocked up. It was reopened in 1931, when Canon Luckock (rector 1912-1962) and his wife put in the present glass panel and hung the massive oak south door as a thanksgiving for their silver wedding. The seating around the walls of the porch is a reminder of its earlier function as a place of meeting.

 

The Exterior

The large and splendid tower is built in four stages, richly decorated with triple bands of quatrefoils in circles on the ground storey and similar bands on the second and third stages. The niches on the west face contain modern stone figures representing Moses and Aaron, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Peter, and the archangels Michael and Gabriel. The parish magazine for 1901 records that the rector’s wife paid for the replacements by breeding and selling black fantail pigeons.

 

The ‘crown’, ie. parapet and pinnacles above the fourth stage is considered by experts to date from about 1500. The will of one Thomas Gryndall, dated 1474, bequeaths money towards the building of the tower, probably completed except for the ‘crown’ in about 1480.

 

The prominence and size of the tower made it a significant landmark. In 1585 when the country prepared to resist the threatened invasion from Spain, the Lord Lieutenant, Sir Christopher Hatton of Kirby Hall, gave order for Beacons to be made in places accustomed and that ‘Tychemershe Beacon’ be sett upon Tychemershe church steeple

 

On the south wall of the tower is a painted sundial, dated 1798, and below it a disused clock face made in 1745. There are three scratch dials on the south side of the church – on the porch and on two of the buttresses.

 

The churchyard, which contains many good examples of local stonemasons’ work of the 18th and 19th centuries, is remarkable and perhaps unique in being bounded almost entirely by a ha-ha.

 

Acknowlegements: The Victoria County History of Northamptonshire; Northamptonshire by Niklaus Pevsner; and to various numbers of the Titchmarsh Parish Magazine; Titchmarsh Past and Present by Helen Belgion, published 1979

  

titchmarsh.info/church-of-st-mary-the-virgin/church-history/

 

THE CHURCH of St Bride's is justly world famous. To enter its doors is to step into 2,000 years of history, which had begun with the Romans some six centuries before the name of St Bride, daughter of an Irish prince, even emerged from legend to become associated forever with the site.

 

The story of St Bride's is inextricably woven into the history of the City of London. By the time the Great Fire of 1666 left the church in ruins, a succession of churches had existed on the site for about a millennium, and the area had already assumed its unique role in the emergence of English printing. It took nine years for St Bride's to re-appear from the ashes under the inspired direction of Christopher Wren, but for the next two-and-a-half centuries it was in the shadow of the church's unmistakeable wedding-cake spire that the rise of the British newspaper industry into the immensely-powerful Fourth Estate took place.

 

Then, in 1940, St Bride's fell victim once again to flames as German incendiary bombs reduced Wren's architectural jewel to a roofless shell. This time 17 years elapsed before rebuilding was completed, although a series of important excavations in 1953 amid the skeletal ruins, led by the medieval archaeologist Professor W. F. Grimes, came up with extraordinary results, uncovering the foundations of all six previous churches on the site.

 

Not only the nation, but the Christian world as a whole, was fascinated by the discovery.

 

Historians and religious scholars had always accepted that there had been a site of Christian worship alongside the Fleet River and close to the Lud Gate, now known as Ludgate Circus, in the heart of the ancient City of London, for about 1,000 years.

 

When the Romans established Londinium following the invasion under the emperor Claudius in 43 AD, they dug a mysterious extra-mural ditch on the site of the future church and built a house, which seems likely to have been one of the earliest sites of worship. A Roman pavement can be seen to this day on display in the much-restored crypts of the church.

 

More than four centuries were to pass before the name of St Bride became associated with the site. But that association was to last throughout subsequent recorded history.

 

Born in 453 AD, shortly after St Patrick, Bride (or St Brigid) was the daughter of a prince and a druidic slave. As a teenager with an overwhelming desire to do good to others, she gave away so many of her father's possessions - daily necessities such as milk and flour, but also jewellery and swords - that he eventually let her follow her calling and enter the religious life. In 470, she and seven other nuns founded a convent in Kildare which developed into a centre of learning and spirituality, famed for its illuminated manuscripts such as the Book of Kildare.

 

According to legend, when Bride received her blessing as abbess it was inadvertently read to her as the rite of consecration as a bishop, which could not then be rescinded. Thus Bride and her successor abbesses had authority equal to that of a bishop for the following seven centuries.

 

She was renowned throughout Christian Europe for her holiness and common sense, and was regarded as a saint during her lifetime. Ironically, in view of the part that flames were later to play in the story of the church, she shared her name with the pagan goddess of fire, who had been noted for her music, her craftsmanship and her poetry - all qualities that have been manifested in and around St Bride's over numerous generations.

 

A line from a poem attributed to her - "I long for a great lake of ale" - was also an ironic harbinger of one of the Fleet Street's preoccupations in later years.

 

She died on 1st February 525 and was buried with the remains of Ireland's two other patron saints - Patrick and Columba. This date continues to be celebrated as the Feast of St Bride.

 

In the early sixth century the first stone-walled church was built here, founded either by St Bride in person or by Celtic monks who had formed a community in London. It was rebuilt many times over the following centuries, with notable structures including those of the Middle Saxons and the Normans.

 

This period in history was characterised by the urbanisation of Europe, military expansion, and intellectual revival, aided by the conversion of the raiding Scandinavians to Christianity. The 11th, 12th and 13th centuries saw a large increase in London's population - from less than 15,000 to over 80,000.

 

By the year 1200 Britain's effective capital city was Westminster, then a small town up-river from the City of London, where the royal treasury and financial records were stored.

 

St Bride's was the first church encountered between London and Westminster. This accident of geography gave it considerable importance; in 1205, the Curia Regis, a council of landowners and ecclesiastics charged with providing legislative advice to King John, and a predecessor to today's parliament, was held in the church. St Bride's influence and its numbers of parishioners grew substantially during the medieval period. From the 13th century onwards London developed through two different seats of power and influence: Westminster became the royal capital and centre of government, while the City of London became the centre of commerce and trade - a distinction evident to this day.

 

The area between them eventually became entirely urbanised by the end of the 16th century, and it was at the beginning of that century that St Bride's developed its first links with one of the future cornerstones of British society which were to constitute its most enduring claim to fame.

 

In the year 1500 the church had impressive neighbours - the many members of the clergy who were unable to afford the high cost of living in the very centre of the medieval city, where there was greater protection from thieves. However, they possessed their own powerful insurance against burglars - the fear of excommunication, which freed them to live outside.

 

So while rich merchants huddled together in the centre for safety, the area around St. Bride's became a haven for the eminent divines who were involved in national life. Salisbury Square, Peterborough Court and Ely Place are among names which have come down through history to remind us of great houses in the vicinity.

 

Since the clergy possessed almost a monopoly of literacy in those days, they were the printers' best customers. Thus Fleet Street became the cradle of the transformation of the medieval art and mystery of printing into the most influential industry man had yet known.

 

In the early 1470s, William Caxton had learnt the recently-invented technique of printing in Cologne. He returned to London in 1476 and set up a press by Westminster Abbey. In all, he printed about 100 books, some 20 of which were translated from French or Dutch, on subjects that included history and geography, the lives of saints, fables, and instructional books (for example, on good manners and learning French). His output also included most of the works of Chaucer.

 

As a well-to-do cloth merchant, Caxton had no need to make his press commercially viable. But after he died in 1491, his apprentice Wynkyn de Worde, who acquired that press, was in different circumstances. Having no other income, printing was his livelihood. So he followed commercial principles and took his goods to the buyer, setting up England's first printing press with moveable type in the churchyard of St Bride's in 1501.

 

It was a period in history when churchyards were hives of activity, boasting inns, taverns and commercial premises, and Fleet Street proved the perfect place for de Worde's new enterprise.

 

The publishers of playwrights and poets soon set up competing presses in other local churchyards, and the connection between St Bride's and world of printing and journalism was cemented. Wynkyn de Worde was buried in the church in 1535.

 

By the 17th century Fleet Street had become an irresistible attraction for the great writers and diarists of the day. A trio of Johns - Milton, Dryden and Evelyn - lived in the vicinity; Samuel Pepys was baptised at St Bride's, and Richard Lovelace buried there.

 

But then, in the space of 16 terrible months, it all changed.

 

St Bride's long connections with the colonies in America began when the parents of Virginia Dare, the first child born to English emigrants to North Carolina in August 1585, were married at the church. The event is commemorated in a touching bust of a little girl which can be found by the font in the south-west corner of the church.

 

One of the most striking features of today's St. Bride's also owes its inspiration to the church's American links. The great canopied oak reredos which enshrines the church altar is a memorial to the Pilgrim Fathers. This connection was made 35 years after Virginia Dare's birth when Edward Winslow (1595-1655) became one of the leaders of the Mayflower expedition in 1620. Winslow, who was three times elected governor of Plymouth, Massachusetts, had served as a boy apprentice in Fleet Street and would have known St Bride's well. His parents were also married there.

 

At the same time, St. Bride's parish was busily helping to populate yet another English colony. One hundred girls and boys from the Bridewell Hospital orphanage were sent to Virginia in 1619. The project was so successful that the governor requested 100 more. All the youngsters received grants of land on coming of age.

 

The Great Plague is believed to have first struck the docklands of London in April 1665, and by 6th June the parish of St Bride's was officially notified of an outbreak within its boundaries. It was also known as "the Poore's Plague," and the parish suffered terribly because of the large number of manual workers.

 

The court of Charles II, together with lawyers, merchants and doctors, fled the city, but the poor could not. St Bride's vicar, the Revd Richard Peirson, remained to witness the devastation to his parish community, including the deaths of his churchwardens.

 

Searchers of the Dead, usually old women, were paid to go out and inspect a corpse to determine cause of death. They were often bribed not to diagnose bubonic plague, as the entire household of a victim had to be locked in for 40 days, which normally resulted in all their deaths. Terrified residents sniffed nosegays to ward off malodorous airs which were thought to carry the infection. Funeral bells tolled constantly.

 

The parish distributed relief to stricken families. Watchmen were paid to guard locked houses and attend to the wants of those within. Nurses were dispatched to attend the sick. Two "bearers" were paid to carry corpses to the plague pits. The cost of all of this was partly reclaimed by the "brokers of the dead" who seized the property left in infected houses. So much was gathered that St Bride's had to rent a storehouse.

 

Many thousands of dogs and cats were culled, as they were believed to spread the pestilence. Flea-infested rats (the real culprits) were thus freed of predators, and proliferated.

 

In all the plague cost the parish of St Bride's some £581. The human cost was far worse: 2,111 people died in the parish in that fateful year. London lost 100,000, or 20% of its inhabitants.

 

Plague victims continued to die in smaller numbers until autumn the following year - which proved to be the very moment the City was consumed, literally, by a second dreadful tribulation on the heels of the first.

 

After a summer of drought, the Great Fire of London began on Sunday 2nd September 1666, and very soon the worried residents of the parish were watching in growing alarm before being put to flight two days later as the advancing flames leapt the narrow alleyways to ignite wooden houses and the often-illegal businesses many of them contained.

 

St Bride's was equipped with its own fire engine, but had failed to keep the machine "scoured, oyled and trimmed." Soldiers destroyed houses about Fleet Bridge in the vain hope that the Fleet River might stay the advance of the flames. But the relentless east wind drove the fire on: one onlooker described how it "rushed like a torrent down Ludgate Hill."

 

On Friday, Samuel Pepys made this entry in his diary:

 

September 7. - Up by five o'clock; and blessed be God!, find all well; and by water to Paul's Wharfe. Walked thence, and saw all the towne burned; and a miserable sight of Paul's church, with all the roof fallen, and the body of the quire fallen into St Fayth's; Paul's School also, Ludgate and Fleete-street, my father's house (in Salisbury Court) and the church (St Bride's), and a good part of the Temple the like.

 

Two weeks before the conflagration, a new vicar had been inducted at St Bride's. The hapless Paul Boston was to possess a church for no longer than those two weeks of his tenure, though in his will he left it £50; the silver gilt vessels bought with that bequest remain prized possessions today.

 

The destruction of the medieval St Bride's was so complete that no attempt was made to use the ruins for service, as was done at St Paul's and elsewhere. So, the big question was: would St Bride's be rebuilt?

 

In 1671 the churchwardens of St Bride's took Mr Christopher Wren (Surveyor General and Principal Architect for rebuilding the City) to dinner at the Globe Tavern. It would take another year before they could convince him of their cause, but their persistence meant that St Bride's was one of the first post-fire churches to be opened.

 

The blaze had destroyed 87 City churches. Despite Wren's belief that only 39 were necessary in such a small area, St Bride's was among the 51 to be rebuilt. The £500 required as a deposit by Guildhall to get things under way was raised in a month - a remarkable effort, given that most of the parishioners had lost homes and businesses in the disaster. Nor was this the end to the financial demands, as money remained tight. But a combination of Coal Dues, donations and loans eventually met the building's cost of £11,430 5s. 11d.

 

Joshua Marshall was the main contractor for the works. A parishioner and master mason to the king, like his father before him, Marshall was a wise choice. He also worked with Wren on Temple Bar and the Monument, while one of his assistants was the young Nicholas Hawksmoor, who was to become a renowned architect himself.

 

As today, the main material for the church was Portland stone. By September 1672, within a year of starting, the walls had reached the upper part of the cornice. The speed of progress was partly ascribed to the fact that the workmen had a hostel by the church, the Old Bell Tavern, built for them by Wren. By 1674 the main structural work was complete, and a year later the church finally reopened for worship on Sunday 19th December 1675.

 

Though it was open, it was not completed; most notably, the tower remained unfinished. In 1682 the churchwardens again approached Wren, this time about building the steeple. Work did not begin until 1701, and took two years to complete. At 234ft it was Wren's highest steeple, although after it was damaged by lightning in 1764 it was reduced to 226ft during more rebuilding.

 

Much has been written about the steeple, the most romantic tale of which is surely that of William Rich, apprenticed to a baker near Ludgate Circus. He fell in love with his master's daughter and, when he set up his own business at the end of his apprenticeship, won her father's approval for her hand in marriage.

 

Rich wished to create a spectacular cake for the wedding feast, but was unsure how, until one day he looked up at the steeple of the church in which the marriage was to be held, and inspiration hit him: a cake in layers, tiered, and diminishing as it rose. Thus began the tradition of the tiered wedding cake.

 

The year before the steeple was finished, the Daily Courant became the first regular daily newspaper to be printed in the United Kingdom, published on 11th March 1702 by Elizabeth Mallet from rooms above the White Hart pub in Fleet Street. A brass plaque to mark the 300th anniversary of this first edition was unveiled by the Prince of Wales at a special service in St Bride's on 11th March 2002.

 

Publishers and newspapers now began to spring up with some urgency; of the national papers that are still in existence, the Daily Universal Register (now The Times) was first published in 1785, and The Observer became the world's first Sunday newspaper in 1791.

 

Many renowned writers tried their hand - Daniel Defoe, for instance, founded the Daily Post.

 

As numerous regional and provincial titles were founded, they set up London offices in and around St Bride's, as did the first news agencies.

 

The vast expansion of the printing industry in Fleet Street also drew interest from intellectuals, actors and artists. Anyone who was anyone - Samuel Johnson, James Boswell, David Garrick, Samuel Richardson, Joshua Reynolds, William Hogarth, William Wordsworth and John Keats - would want to be seen in the coffee houses and inns around St Bride's.

 

Guardian (1821)

Daily Mail (1896)

Sunday Times (1822)

Daily Express (1900)

News of the World (1843)

Daily Mirror (1903)

Daily Telegraph (1855)

Sunday Mirror (1915)

The People (1881)

Sunday Express (1918)

Financial Times (1888)

Morning Star (1930)

 

With the coming of the 20th century their combined circulations were immense, and the power of press barons such as Northcliffe, Kemsley, Beaverbrook, Astor and Rothermere propelled Fleet Street into the very heart of the British power structure, often shaping news as well as reporting it.

 

Then came World War II and, in 1940, Fleet Street watched helplessly as the news exploded right at its doorstep. For St Bride's, by now enshrined as the parish church of journalism, it once again brought catastrophe.

 

The Blitz began in the early autumn as the Germans, their plan for a summer invasion thwarted, sought instead to bomb Britain's cities into submission. Guildsman John Colley, now in his 80s, recalls what it was like to be in a Grub Street at war:

 

"The nightly bombing to which London was being subjected for those last four months of 1940 made little apparent difference to the way Fleet Street went about its business. The business of producing tomorrow's newspapers was so all-consuming that there was little time to think about what was going on above; and that was true not only of those working in the great buildings housing the Nationals, but also in the basements of the scores of London offices of the big provincial papers.

 

"That isn't to say there weren't moments of sheer terror when the ominous whistle of a bomb you knew was going to land close by could be heard, but once the immediate danger was over you just got on with the job that had to be done. It was such a familiar situation that one became hardened to it.

 

"Outside, Fleet Street appeared to be its usual nightly hive of activity and got on with its job as much as circumstances would allow. News vans still dashed off to the London termini; couriers brought Government hand-outs from the Ministry of Information; messengers from picture and news agencies dodged the shrapnel and bombs as they darted from office to office; even the odd tramp made his nightly call to cadge a cuppa.

 

"With most of the newspapers gathered together in an area all around Fleet Street, the agencies - PA, Reuters, Ex Tel and the rest - sent the majority of their news through cables strung across the Street to tape machines in subscribing offices, all liable to disruption by bomb and blast - which brought more messengers delivering a hand service.

 

"Night life in the Street at that time centred around the all-night cafes - and there were many of them, all doing good business serving sustaining tea and snacks. Pubs, of course, had to keep to licensing hours, but Fleet Street's two Black and White all-night milk bars did a roaring trade serving hot soup and a great variety of milk shakes.

 

"Occasionally a fire-fighting party of three dodged from building to building, one carrying a bucket of water, one a stirrup pump and the third a hose on their way to put out an incendiary fire. Air Raid Precaution wardens made their nightly calls and public service vehicles on their way to or from an incident were up and down the Street throughout the night. All in all, there was hardly a quiet moment, either on the ground or up above."

 

Two days before this grim year ended, St Bride's luck ran out. On the night of Sunday 29th December the Luftwaffe targeted the City of London in a concentrated incendiary raid. Some 1400 fires were started; eight of Wren's churches were destroyed. St Bride's was one of them.

 

The church, locked after Evensong, suffered incendiary hits which pierced the roof, and the seasoned timbers proved perfect tinder. Some treasures were rescued from the flames, including the medieval gospel lectern which had survived the Great Fire of 1666. But most was destroyed. The famous bells melted and fell, but the steeple, despite having flames pouring from it, prevailed - testament to Wren's design.

 

Up Ludgate Hill, the Times reported, "the dome of St Paul's seemed to ride the sea of fire like a great ship lifting above the smoke and flames the inviolable ensign of the golden cross."

 

But all that lay ahead for St Bride's were years of ruined desolation until the war ended and the church's administrators were able to address the question that had faced their predecessors in 1666: How do we rebuild both the church and its congregation?

 

By the time the austere 1950s came round, services were being held on the site, some in the open air and others in the crypt chapel.

 

Rebuilding work was scheduled for 1954, thanks to the restoration fund which was a tribute to the dedication of the Rector, Revd Cyril Armitage. The chosen architect, Godfrey Allen, an authority on Wren, studied the master's original plans and produced a faithful recreation. He kept the clear glass Wren loved, but did not rebuild the galleries, instead laying out the stalls in collegiate style.

 

With rebuilding came excavation as well as restoration. In addition to the astonishing discovery of Roman remains on the site in 1953, the crypts were found to contain thousands of human remains, many of them victims of the Great Plague of 1665 and the cholera epidemic of 1854. The latter claimed 10,000 lives in the City of London, and, as a result, Parliament decreed that there should be no more burials in the City. The crypts were sealed and forgotten about.

 

One hundred years later the excavations of Professor F.W. Grimes resulted in St. Bride's possessing two almost unique series of human remains. One includes well over 200 skeletons identified by their sex and age at the time of death, thus forming a very important source of research into forensic and other forms of medicine.

 

The other series, which is estimated by some to include nearly 7,000 human remains, is in a medieval charnel house where all the bones were found in categories - thigh bone with thigh bone and so on - and laid in chequer-board pattern. This is probably evidence of a land shortage in London even that many centuries ago.

 

On 19th December 1957, on the anniversary of Wren's church being opened for worship 282 years previously, St Bride's was rededicated in the presence of the Queen and Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh.

 

In 1962, Dewi Morgan inherited the Rector's mantle from Cyril Armitage, and throughout the 1960s and 1970s St Bride's continued its ministry to the newspaper world, hosting baptisms, weddings and memorial services as well as offering regular weekday worship for those working in the area.

 

In 1967 the church was packed for a service to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the Press Association, whose offices were next door. The glass doors at the West End were a gift to mark the occasion. Through the generosity of Sir Max Aitken, Lord Beaverbrook's heir, a permanent exhibition was mounted in the crypt chronicling the history of the site and of Fleet Street, and was renewed with the help of Reuters and the Museum of London 25 years later.

 

By the early 1980s, however, all was not well in the newspaper business. For years Fleet Street had been living with chaotic industrial relations. Proprietors found the so-called Spanish practices of the print unions intolerable, while the workers rejected management attempts to introduce flexible working, no-strike clauses, new technology, and an end to the closed shop.

 

National newspapers continued to be produced by the labour-intensive linotype hot-metal method, rather than being composed electronically. Eddie Shah's regional Messenger Group had, however, benefited from the Conservative government's trade union legislation which allowed employers to de-recognise unions, enabling Shah to use an alternative workforce and new technology. Journalists could input copy directly, sweeping away arcane craft-union manning levels and cutting costs dramatically.

 

On 24th January 1986, some 6,000 newspaper workers went on strike after the breakdown of negotiations with Rupert Murdoch's News International, parent of Times Newspapers and News Group Newspapers. They were unaware that Murdoch had built and clandestinely equipped a new-technology printing plant in Wapping. When they struck, he moved his operation overnight.

 

Within months the printing dinosaur that was Fleet Street was dead. By 1989 all the national newspapers had decamped as other proprietors followed Murdoch's lead. Computers had consigned Wynkyn de Worde's revolution to history.

 

Many people at that time feared that the diaspora of the Fourth Estate might result in St Bride's losing its title of the cathedral of Fleet Street. Some even considered that the great church would lose its parishioners. Might Rupert Murdoch's vision bring about what pestilence, fire and the Luftwaffe had failed to achieve?

 

Fortunately for St Bride's, the national newspapers scattered in every direction rather than congregating in one locality, so that "Fleet Street" remains to this day a generic term for the nation's press, and the church retains its pre-eminent position in the journalistic and media constituency.

 

During the Middle East hostage crisis of the late 1980s and early 1990s, it hosted all-night vigils for John McCarthy and others, and on their release in 1991 a grand service of celebration was held.

 

We have commemorated John Schofield, BBC reporter killed in Croatia in 1995; Reuters' Kerem Lawton, killed in Kosovo; Channel 4's Gaby Rado and ITN's Terry Lloyd (Iraq); BBC cameraman Simon Cumbers, murdered by Al Qaeda in Saudi Arabia; and the Wall Street Journal's Daniel Pearl, murdered by Al Qaeda in Pakistan in 2002.

 

In 2003 we unveiled a memorial to all journalists who died in Iraq, and in 2006 commemorated James Brolan and Paul Douglas, CBS journalists killed in Baghdad, demonstrating St Bride's unique position in journalism throughout the world. When, earlier this year, The Times' driver in Iraq, Yasser, was killed in a bomb blast in Baghdad, it was to St Bride's that senior News International staff came to light a candle.

 

The Journalists' Altar in the North East corner also carries prayers for reporters who are missing or who have lost their lives in current conflicts.

 

Newspaper proprietors such as Lord Burnham, Lord Rothermere and Lord Hartwell have been remembered in memorial services. So have editors like Sir Edward Pickering, David Astor, Stewart Steven and Louis Kirby; the Guardian's famed woman's editor Mary Stott; the D-Day war reporter Doon Campbell; BBC figures such as Godfrey Talbot, Louis MacMillan and Leonard Miall; and Fiona MacPherson of Good Housekeeping magazine.

 

Strong and successful efforts were made by the former Rector, Canon John Oates, to bring into the church's embrace the new occupants of the now-silent newspaper offices - chiefly lawyers, accountants and investment bankers. Twenty years after the last newspaper left, the large number of memorials and carol services we hold every year are evenly split between the "old" and the "new" Fleet Street.

 

The church today has a light, open feel of symmetry; the floor is paved with black marble from Belgium and white from Italy. This is very much a living church in a modern world.

 

As a result of a successful funding appeal, new side aisles constructed of English and European oak were installed in 2004, offering significantly better views for large congregations while preserving the beautiful character of the church.

 

Out of the inferno of that hellish night in December 1940 has emerged something beautiful, which remains the spiritual heart both of the parish of St Bride's and of the journalistic community in Britain and throughout the world.

 

The church retains strong City links, has built up an enviable musical reputation, and is home to thriving Sunday congregations, as well as being a major tourist landmark. Set back from Fleet Street, only yards from the tremendous bustle of Ludgate Circus, yet seemingly existing in its own peaceful space, St Bride's is one of the most historic, vibrant and beautiful churches to be found anywhere in London.

 

www.stbrides.com/history/index.html

Background

 

The Hydra Medic comes with a gun pointed at you. Interesting interpretation of the Hippocratic Oath.

 

Hydra (often capitalized as HYDRA) is a fictional terrorist organization appearing in American comic books published by Marvel Comics. Its name alludes to the mythical Lernaean Hydra, as does its motto: "If a head is cut off, two more shall take its place," proclaiming the group's resilience and growing strength in the face of resistance.

 

Originally a Nazi organization led by the Red Skull during World War II, Hydra is taken over and turned into a neo-fascist international crime syndicate by Baron Wolfgang von Strucker.*

 

Hydra agents often wear distinctive green garb featuring a serpent motif. Hydra's plans for world domination are regularly foiled by Marvel Universe superheroes and the intelligence organization S.H.I.E.L.D.

 

Hydra first appeared in Strange Tales #135 (August 1965). In its original continuity, it was headed by nondescript businessman Arnold Brown, who was killed when S.H.I.E.L.D. apparently crushed the organization.

 

Hydra soon returned, however, headed by Baron Wolfgang von Strucker, with the support of the Nazi Red Skull; Hydra's changing origin is one of Marvel's earliest retcons.

 

After its initial defeat, several of its branches, such as its scientific branch A.I.M. (Advanced Idea Mechanics) and the Secret Empire, became independent.

 

Organization

 

"Hail, Hydra! Immortal Hydra! We shall never be destroyed! Cut off a limb and two more shall take its place! We serve none but the Master—as the world shall soon serve us! Hail Hydra!"

 

—The Hydra oath from Strange Tales #135 (Aug. 1965)

 

Hydra mythos say that before mankind, a cabal of immortal hooded reptoids came to Earth, planning to start a legacy of evil.

 

After the arrival of humans, the reptoids corrupted an Asian secret society of geniuses known as the Brotherhood of the Spear, which resulted in that group being called "the Beast" by the Brotherhood of the Shield.

 

The corrupted Brotherhood of the Spear spread out, ingraining itself like a multi-headed serpent into all facets of human society, from science to magic to politics.

 

As time wore on, the organization's name changed and it included the Cathari sect, as well as the Thule Society. The Nazi sub-group, funded by the Thule Society, is brought into the main Hydra fold after the end of World War II.

 

One of the Nazi members, Baron Wolfgang von Strucker, quickly seized control of the Hydra organization and restructured it to be dedicated to world domination through terrorist and subversive activities on various fronts, resulting in a global neo-fascist New World Order.

 

To this end, Baron von Strucker used his personal fortune, based on his recovered hoard of Nazi plunder from World War II, and funds established by the original leaders of the Japanese secret society that became part of the old Hydra.

 

However, after von Strucker's first death, Hydra broke into factions (such as A.I.M., the Secret Empire, THEM, etc.) that each adopted its own reorganized modus operandi. Eventually, this fragmentation would lead to a Hydra civil war, even after von Strucker's resurrection.

 

According to the files discovered by Nick Fury, Hydra is split into four independent sectors:

 

International Corporations (Fronts created using a legitimate business to conceal illicit activities)

 

Government Assets (Individuals within a national government's chain of command. Long-term resources that benefit from the minimal turnover inherent in bureaucracies)

 

Global Criminal Groups (Subsidiary organizations created for short-term goals. Also used to deflect unwanted interest from the global law enforcement community)

 

Intelligence Gathering (S.H.I.E.L.D. and all their underlying resources)

 

Hydra regards S.H.I.E.L.D. as their "most valuable proactive intelligence asset" while its government assets include the U.S. Department of the Treasury, the FBI, and the NSA, as well as the Canadian Security Intelligence Service and the GRU and SVR of Russia.

 

Nick Fury has theorized that his previous successes against Hydra were either feints to make him believe that he is making headway against the group or manipulation by Hydra to eliminate any possible competition or possible rogue sub-organizations.

 

In the aftermath of the Secret Invasion and Baron von Strucker's second death, there followed a series of power struggles, which eventually left Hydra without a formal leader.

 

The splintering of Hydra accelerated, with various cells operating seemingly independently.

 

Eventually, the Red Skull, returning to his Nazi beliefs, started building a new Hydra from the ground up. However, this brought him into conflict with Baron Zemo, who is attempting to control what remains of the old Hydra.

 

The Red Skull convinced his now-aware Cosmic Cube, Kobik, to cooperate with S.H.I.E.L.D. in creating Pleasant Hill and discovered that Kobik could alter people's memories to make them believe they had been members of the Hydra of which the Red Skull had told them stories.

 

However, the Red Skull failed to realize that the Hydra he is building and the Hydra Kobik had created false memories of were two different things, with the now-Hydra Captain America disobeying the Red Skull and planning something else.

 

Technology

 

As advanced as any on Earth, Hydra's technology is based in part on artifacts of the alien Gnobians discovered by Baron Von Strucker in 1944.

 

Hydra uses advanced experimental vehicles and devices along with conventional military vehicles, seacraft, aircraft, pistols and standard concussive force blasters, and communications equipment.

 

Hydra personnel are issued cowled jumpsuits, which have included a number of designs over the years. Originally, the jumpsuits were green with a yellow H design, and later incorporated a red and brown color scheme, but in time were changed back to green with a serpent motif.

 

They tested on James Buchanan Barnes, creating the Winter Soldier in the process. The Winter Soldier then went on to kill over a dozen unnamed people in the span of 50 years.

 

Fictional organization history

 

Founding

 

Hydra's history as depicted in Marvel Universe continuity is a long, tumultuous and convoluted one, spanning millennia, and going back to the Third Dynasty of Egypt, with all references to the ancient group disappearing around the Renaissance.

 

The modern incarnation of Hydra originates when the Nazi spymaster known as the Red Skull took control of an Asian secret society, the Brotherhood of the Spear, merging it with a German occult organization, the Thule Society.

 

Some time before 1943, the Red Skull started creating a Hydra cell in Japan, merging several underground Japanese secret societies, including a faction of the Hand, with several fugitive members of Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan, to become the modern Hydra.

 

This incarnation of Hydra operated in Japan, directed by a Japanese militarist called the Supreme Hydra, and in Germany, under the control of the Red Skull and Arnim Zola.

 

However, after joining Hydra, Baron Wolfgang von Strucker seized control of the organization and constructed the Hydra base Tsunami - called Hydra Island.

 

The original Hydra Island is invaded by the Leatherneck Raiders and the Japanese Samurai Squad, and the base is destroyed.

 

Strucker then slowly steered the organization towards the goal of world domination. That campaign brought him into conflict with Charles Xavier and the future Magneto, among others.

 

Conflict with S.H.I.E.L.D.

 

Once Hydra became more brazenly public in its operations, this led to the creation of the original agency known as S.H.I.E.L.D., specifically to counter Hydra's threat to world security.

 

After Hydra apparently assassinated S.H.I.E.L.D.'s first executive director, Col. Rick Stoner, Nick Fury is appointed as executive director. Hydra agents attempted to assassinate Nick Fury before his appointment as S.H.I.E.L.D.'s director, but failed.

 

After several failed Hydra campaigns, including the failure of the world blackmail attempt using the Betatron Bomb, the creation of the Overkill Horn (designed to detonate all nuclear explosives worldwide), and the bio-engineered "Death-Spore" Bomb, which led directly to Strucker's first death at the hands of Fury, and several deceived Hydra operatives.

 

In the wake of Strucker's first death, the surviving elements of Hydra broke into factions that each adopted its own reorganized modus operandi.

 

Several of these factions developed "super-agents" that would occasionally break away in turn to become freelance operatives, or, in some rarer cases, superheroes, such as the original Spider-Woman.

 

During this era, Hydra's collective threat is mitigated by not only occasionally infighting among themselves, but their operating policy of punishing failure with death, often led to their killing of each other more often than their intended victims. Hydra frequently found itself defeated by S.H.I.E.L.D., various superheroes, and even apparently unpowered civilians, like the motorcycle racing team, Team America.

 

Strucker's Return

 

Strucker is revived, and he reunites several of the Hydra factions under his leadership, renewing his campaign against S.H.I.E.L.D. and humanity for several more years.

 

Despite his reorganization of the group, various independent Hydra factions continued to operate around the Marvel Universe, and a Hydra civil war would later result.

 

While Baron Helmut Zemo had Strucker placed in stasis for his own ends, the Gorgon and Strucker's second wife, Elsbeth von Strucker, mystically created a clone of Strucker, whom they set up to fail, allowing for a public execution of him, after which, as part of an alliance with the Hand, they utilized an army of brainwashed superheroes and supervillains, including Northstar and Elektra, to launch a massive assault on S.H.I.E.L.D. The assault is repelled, and Wolverine went on to kill the Gorgon.

 

Hydra later planned an all-out attack on the United States by smuggling missiles into New York for use in a planned bio-weapon assault on the Ogallala Aquifer.

 

They formed a distraction through using a team that had the duplicated powers of several Avengers, (Iron Man and Captain America, and former Avengers Thor and Hawkeye), but were inevitably foiled by Spider-Man and the other New Avengers.

 

Civil War

 

Spider-Woman (Jessica Drew) is captured by S.H.I.E.L.D. during the events of Civil War, Hydra stormed the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier and frees her.

 

Spider-Woman, a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and member of the Avengers, had been working undercover for Hydra under the orders of Nick Fury, now deposed as Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. following the events of Secret War, to whom she is still loyal.

 

Hydra revealed that they knew of her betrayal, and wanted her to replace the Viper as their current leader, as she is unstable. Spider-Woman refused their offer, destroying in an explosion the Hydra base to which she had been taken.

 

As Spider-Woman revealed her true identity as Queen Veranke of the Skrull Empire, Hydra is left with a void in its control organization, filled by Congressman Woodman.

 

Under his rule, the young Hardball, empowered by the Power Broker, is appointed as a double agent, acting both as an Initiative recruit and as a Hydra spy, with the role of gathering information about the Initiative and doing errands for Hydra in exchange for secrecy and the expensive health care needed by his brother, a former UCWF wrestler, who is crippled in the ring.

 

Hardball, however, deeply hurt and shamed by the compromises Woodman forced him to endure and Komodo's attempt to bail him out of Hydra by telling his secrets to his field leader Gravity, mercilessly killed Congressman Woodman in front of his subordinates.

 

His ersatz coup d'état paid off, and Hardball is appointed as the new Supreme Leader of the organization, severing every tie with his former life.

 

His joining Hydra, however, is revealed to be caused simply by his having nowhere else to go. He surrendered to the Shadow Initiative, and is sent to the Negative Zone prison, destroying his Hydra cell.

 

Secret Invasion

 

After the events of "Secret Invasion", Nick Fury discovered that S.H.I.E.L.D. is under the control of Hydra, and apparently had been from the beginning.

 

He also discovered a number of organizations under Hydra's alleged control, including the United States' FBI Science and Technology Branch, the NSA, and the U.S. Department of the Treasury, along with the Russian Main Intelligence Directorate and Foreign Intelligence Service, and the Canadian Security Intelligence Service.

 

Meanwhile, after having destroyed Hydra's undersea headquarters, Ichor, due to its having been infiltrated by the Skrull invasion force, Strucker rebuilt Hydra from the ground up, and after his discovery that Fury had learned the truth, reconvened the other main heads of Hydra: the Viper, Madame Hydra, Kraken, and the Hive, as well as resurrecting the Gorgon for the purpose of showing Hydra's "true self" to the world.

 

Hydra (alongside A.I.M.) later appeared in an alliance with H.A.M.M.E.R. Following the defeat of Norman Osborn, H.A.M.M.E.R. disbands, with Madame Hydra using the remaining members to reinforce Hydra.

 

After the existence of Pleasant Hill, a top-secret community where Maria Hill incarcerated various supervillains (after brainwashing them to believe they were regular civilians via a sentient Cosmic Cube named Kobik), is exposed and subsequently shut down, the Red Skull's clone used the subsequent backlash in the intelligence community to assemble a new version of Hydra, starting with Sin and Crossbones.

 

Although his efforts were still focused on rebuilding the organization, he had already scored a significant victory, after the sentient Cosmic Cube, having been "raised" by the Red Skull in the form of a young girl, to see Hydra as a great organization, altered Steve Rogers' memories so that he believed he had been a Hydra sleeper agent since childhood.

 

Secret Empire

 

"Secret Empire" is about Hydra's goal, as the mind-altered Steve Rogers uses the Planetary Defense Shield, to entrap the Chitauri opposition, stranding them beyond the Shield.

 

Baron Zemo would use the Darkhold to enhance Blackout's powers to entrap all of Manhattan within the Darkforce, following the fight between the superheroes there and Baron Zemo's Army of Evil.

 

Having taken political and military control of the United States, Hydra proceeds to round up and incarcerate all Inhumans, and all mutants are condemned to the western California territory of New Tian. Becoming the Hydra Supreme, Captain America forms Hydra's version of the Avengers, consisting of the Scarlet Witch who is possessed by Chthon, the Vision who is suffering from an A.I. Virus created by Arnim Zola, Odinson, the Taskmaster, Deadpool, Eric O'Grady's Life Model Decoy counterpart the Black Ant, and Doctor Octopus' form of the Superior Octopus. Throughout this period, Hydra encountered resistance from the Underground.

 

Sam Wilson, the original Falcon, and currently the new Captain America, brought hope to the resistance with a plan to bring their real Captain America back by using the remaining Cosmic Cube, under Scott Lang and the Winter Soldier's hand on the Hydra Supreme's Cosmic Cube-infused Hydra suit.

 

As Hydra began to fall, most of Hydra's Avengers members, Odinson, the Taskmaster, and the Black Ant, began to betray Hydra, joining the resistance, while the Vision and the Scarlet Witch were freed from the villains' control.

 

Deadpool came to regret his betrayal of his friends, having killed Phil Coulson and Emily Preston and having lied to Emily's family, with Maria Hill having given him a painful lesson.

 

Kobik returned the real Captain America with his memories intact, and with the Hydra Supreme defeated, Hydra's reign over the United States came to an end, with major casualties being Rick Jones, Phil Coulson, and the Black Widow, who had been killed.

 

The Hydra Supreme is imprisoned in the Shadow Pillar as he is visited by Captain America to bring up the fact that he will stand trial for his crimes. After leaving, the Hydra Supreme is chained up as one of the guards whispered "Hail Hydra" into his ear.

 

Due to the Hydra Supreme's imprisonment, Baron Zemo had to keep Hydra active. He planned to spring the Hydra Supreme from the Shadow Pillar, only to meet opposition from the Punisher in the War Machine Armor. After the attempted jailbreak is thwarted, the Hydra Supreme is apprehended, while Baron Zemo got away.

 

Spider-Geddon

 

During the "Spider-Geddon" storyline, Arnim Zola led a bio-duplicate of the Gorgon and some Hydra agents to the Superior Octopus' lair, where Arnim Zola tried to get the Superior Octopus to help rebuild Hydra.

 

The Superior Octopus turned him down, stating that he had upheld his bargain to Hydra, as Arnim Zola claimed that one does not leave Hydra until their death. After defeating the Hydra Agents, the bio-duplicate of the Gorgon, and Arnim Zola, the Superior Octopus had Arnim Zola spread the word to Hydra to never come after him again.

 

Iron Man 2020

 

During the "Iron Man 2020" event, Pepper Potts infiltrates Hydra Base Omicron to look for Tony Stark's biological father Jude and get a DNA sample from him. She also meets a rookie Hydra agent named Robbie Fleckman.

 

After a ride in the elevator, she follows a Hydra agent into a meeting with Dr. M. As Pepper gets a glimpse of Jude, Dr. M. unveils his Hydra-Bot. To demonstrate the Hydra-Bots abilities, Dr. M volunteers Robbie for the demonstration.

 

Before he can demonstrate the cutting off of a part of Robbie's ear and the cauterizing, the Hydra-Bot goes berserk and cuts off half of Dr. M's left arm claiming that it has no need for a master.

 

Pepper changes into Rescue as she reprimands Hydra for building a robot during the A.I. Army's activities.

 

After rescuing Robbie, Rescue fights her way past smaller Hydra-Bots and has H.A.P.P.Y. scan the building for Jude. As Rescue confronts Jude and tries to explain why she's here, Robbie runs in stating that Hydra Base Omicron is locking down.

 

When the Hydra-Bot attacks and grabs Jude, Robbie tries to save him by throwing a pocketknife only for a tiny part of Jude's right pinkie to accidentally get cut off. Rescue passes herself as a fellow robot to confuse the Hydra-Bot.

 

As the Hydra-Bot starts to self-destruct, Rescue advises Robbie and Jude to flee as she claims the pinkie fragment. Upon fleeing the exploding Hydra base, Rescue contacts Bethany telling her that she's got Jude's DNA sample and to prep the lab for her arrival.

 

Gang War

 

During the "Gang War" storyline, Diamondback is revealed to be allied with Hydra by Hammerhead during the meeting with the crime lords.

 

Diamondback visits a secret Hydra base where he speaks with Viper about the drugs that Hydra was making for him. When Spider-Woman raids a nightclub that Diamondback was speaking at, she gets overwhelmed by Hydra's latest member Green Mamba enough for Diamondback and Green Mamba to get away.

 

Spider-Woman has another encounter with Diamondback and Green Mamba when they are with Madame Hydra as she comes looking for her son Gerry Drew.

 

Green Mamba uses his powers to knock Spider-Woman off the helicopter. Luckily for her, Madame Web was there to catch her.

 

When Spider-Woman arrives at the ship that served as one of Hydra's bases where she confronts Diamondback and Green Mamba. During the fight, Diamondback reveals that Hydra has been keeping tracks of the "gifted and talented kids" and enlisted the biggest "eggheads" in the world to find a way to increase the aging process on the "ankle biters" to speed up Hydra's recruitment program. To Spider-Woman's surprised, Green Mamba is revealed to be an aged Gerry Drew.

 

Hydra abducted him when Roger Gocking forgot who she was. Spider-Woman tried to reason with her son claiming that Hydra mind-controlled him to no avail. Even though Diamondback and some of the Hydra agents were defeated when Spider-Woman's allies showed up, Green Mamba got away. Spider-Woman vows to make Hydra pay for what they have done.

 

⚡ Happy 🎯 Heroclix 💫 Friday! 👽

_____________________________

A year of the shows and performers of the Bijou Planks Theater.

 

Secret Identity: Not Applicable

 

Publisher: Marvel

 

First appearance: Strange Tales #135 (Aug 1965)

 

Created by: Stan Lee (writer)

Jack Kirby (artist)

 

* Baron von Strucker seen in BP 2022 Day 70!

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/51932058251/

"Maria Hill: What does S.H.I.E.L.D. stand for, Agent Ward?

Grant Ward: Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.

Maria Hill: And what does that mean to you?

Grant Ward: It means someone really wanted our initials to spell out "S.H.I.E.L.D."

Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. TV series

 

S.H.I.E.L.D.'s introduction in the Strange Tales featuring "Nick Fury, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D." occurred during a trend for action series about secret international intelligence agencies with catchy acronyms, such as television's The Man from U.N.C.L.E., which Stan Lee stated in a 2014 interview, was the basis for him to create the organization.

 

Colonel Fury (initially the lead character of Marvel Comics' World War II series Sgt. Fury and his Howling Commandos) was reimagined as a slightly older character with an eyepatch (which he lacked in his wartime adventures) and appointed head of the organization. Some characters from the Sgt. Fury series reappeared as agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., most notably Timothy "Dum-Dum" Dugan, Fury's bowler hat-wearing aide-de-camp.

 

Its most persistent enemy is Hydra, a criminal organization founded (after some retcon) by Baron Wolfgang von Strucker.

 

S.H.I.E.L.D. was presented as an extant, full-blown entity in its first appearance, with Tony Stark in charge of the Special Weaponry section and Fury seeing "some of the most famous joes from every nation" (then "half the leaders of the free world" a page later) at a meeting of the Supreme International Council.

 

Much was revealed over the years to fill in its labyrinthine organizational history. Stan Lee wrote each story, abetted by artist Kirby's co-plotting or full plotting, through Strange Tales #152 (January 1967), except for two issues, one scripted by Kirby himself (#148) and one by Dennis O'Neil (#149).

 

Following an issue scripted by Roy Thomas (#153), and one co-written by Thomas and new series artist Jim Steranko,* came the sole-writer debut of soon-to-become industry legend Steranko—who had begun on the feature as a penciller-inker of Kirby layouts in #151 (December 1966), taken over the every-other-issue "Nick Fury" cover art with #153 two months later, and full writing with #155 (April 1967).

 

Steranko quickly established the feature as one of comics history's most groundbreaking, innovative, and acclaimed. Ron Goulart wrote,

 

"Even the dullest of readers could sense that something new was happening. … Which each passing issue Steranko's efforts became more and more innovative. Entire pages would be devoted to photocollages of drawings [that] ignored panel boundaries and instead worked together on planes of depth. The first pages … became incredible production numbers similar in design to the San Francisco rock concert poster of the period."

 

Larry Hama said Steranko "combined the figurative dynamism of Jack Kirby with modern design concepts. The graphic influences of Peter Max, Op Art, and Andy Warhol were embedded into the design of the pages — and the pages were designed as a whole, not just as a series of panels. All this, executed in a crisp, hard-edged style, seething with drama and anatomical tension".

 

The series won 1967 and 1968 Alley Awards and was inducted in the latter year to the awards' Hall of Fame. Steranko himself was inducted into the Comic Book Hall of Fame in 2006.

 

The 12-page feature ran through Strange Tales #168 (sharing that "split book" with the occult feature "Doctor Strange" each issue), after which it was spun off onto its own series of the same title, running 15 issues (June 1968–Nov. 1969), followed by three all-reprint issues beginning a year later (Nov. 1970–March 1971). Steranko wrote and drew issues #1–3 and #5, and drew the covers of #1–7.

 

New S.H.I.E.L.D. stories would not appear for nearly two decades after the first solo title. A six-issue miniseries, Nick Fury vs. S.H.I.E.L.D. (June–November 1988) was followed by Nick Fury, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. (vol. 2). This second series lasted 47 issues (September 1989–May 1993); its pivotal story arc was "the Deltite Affair", in which many S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were replaced with Life Model Decoy androids in a takeover attempt.

 

A year after that series ended, the one-shot Fury (May 1994) retconned the events of those previous two series, recasting them as a series of staged events designed to distract Fury from the resurrection plans of Hydra head von Strucker. The following year, writer Howard Chaykin and penciler Corky Lehmkuhl produced the four-issue miniseries Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D. (April–July 1995).

 

Various publications have additionally focused on Nick Fury's solo adventures, such as the graphic novels and one-shots Wolverine/Nick Fury: The Scorpio Connection (1989), Wolverine/Nick Fury: Scorpio Rising (October 1994), Fury/Black Widow: Death Duty and Captain America and Nick Fury: Blood Truce (both February 1995), and Captain America and Nick Fury: The Otherworld War (October 2001).

 

Origin

 

S.H.I.E.L.D. was formed by Nick Fury, in the period after World War II. However, he figured the U.S. government wouldn't want a group like that, so he disbanded it. Later, though, after a terrorist attack, he noticed that a group like S.H.I.E.L.D. could really have helped and prevented the disaster. So he reformed it.

 

Meanwhile, the United Nations had already taken S.H.I.E.L.D. and restarted it, having Colonel Rick Stoner becoming the first Director of the organization. Fury immediately joined and rose to the top. The Nations had reformed it in response to a HYDRA attack, and once Fury was leading it, it flourished.

 

Creation

 

S.H.I.E.L.D. made their first appearance in Strange Tales #135. They were created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby.

 

Team Evolution

 

S.H.I.E.L.D. (Strategic Hazard Intervention, Espionage and Logistics Directorate) or Supreme Headquarters International Espionage Law Enforcement Division (see Iron Man #227) is a group affiliated with the U.N that deals with superhuman threats. It is an intelligence and anti-terrorism group similar to the FBI, only it is an international corporation that spans all the world. It acts like the police force.

 

S.H.I.E.L.D. agents are armed and work well, much more effective then standard police. They fight terrorists as well as super humans. S.H.I.E.L.D. also has been responsible for the starting of spin-off groups like S.W.O.R.D. and S.T.R.I.K.E. S.H.I.E.L.D. has agents that also are higher level, that often are super humans.

 

Captain America, Spider-Woman, and Iron Man all have operated as S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. S.H.I.E.L.D. keeps ties to the superhuman community, too-they often call on the Fantastic Four, the Avengers, and Captain America.

 

S.H.I.E.L.D. has superhuman agents in the past-two teams were formed in an effort to make a S.H.I.E.L.D. superhuman team. The first team consisted of Marvel Man, Texas Twister, the Vamp, and Blue Streak.

 

However, it quickly failed, and another team in the same vein also failed. The Psi-Division of S.H.I.E.L.D. is a group of psychics or telepaths that deal with psionic menaces. This is only one of the groups of super humans that work in S.H.I.E.L.D. for the greater good.

 

All S.H.I.E.L.D. members have a certain level, based on their importance. A normal S.H.I.E.L.D. agent will have a Level One-which means he can pass through Level One areas and has clearance.

 

A sergeant might have Level Two, which means he has Level Two and One clearance. The Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. has a Level Nine clearance. Level Ten means the most important person in the world-no one currently possesses a Level Ten clearance. Not even the President, or Nick Fury.

 

S.H.I.E.L.D. has many bases around the world. Many are on land-most notably S.H.I.E.L.D. Central, which is located in New York City. There are also many shelters that are secretly placed around the world.

 

Fury has used one, as has the Secret Avengers when they needed a base during the events of Civil War. However, their most famous and important base is the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier.

 

Helicarrier

 

The Helicarrier is an aircraft that is constantly in the air. It is large enough to hold an aircraft carrier. It is the mobile headquarters of S.H.I.E.L.D. and is extremely protected. The Helicarrier has held an entire squadron of jet fighters and a nuclear ballistic missile.

 

There is one major Helicarrier, which is the one that is most important and used. There are also many smaller Helicarriers, however, which all serve as bases too.

 

The Helicarrier has an extremely high level of security-even if someone managed to get on without clearance, guards and extremely powerful security technology would have them gone in a second.

 

The Helicarrier was first proposed by Stark Industries, and was designed by Tony Stark, Forge, and Mr. Fantastic.

 

S.H.I.E.L.D. operated as a covert, military/intelligence agency at the time, and members of it had already appeared. S.H.I.E.L.D. already fought HYDRA then-the evil group had plots like the aforementioned "Overkill Horn".

 

A.I.M. made its first appearance, and individual villains such as Red Skull also popped up and needed to be stopped by S.H.I.E.L.D..

 

At this time, Godzilla came, and the Godzilla Squad was formed to take the monster down. S.H.I.E.L.D. had tough periods during this time. Several lifelike robots got so smart that they became able to think and make choices-they became sentient beings.

 

They had a grudge against S.H.I.E.L.D. for making them follow orders all the time before they had intelligence-so they drugged important S.H.I.E.L.D. members and took their place within the organization.

 

Several of these were Contessa Valentina Allegra de la Fontaine, Jimmy Woo, and Jasper Sitwell, among others. However, the valiant Fury managed to take them down.

 

Fury's Influence

 

Most of the reason that S.H.I.E.L.D. was so effective started with Fury.** He started the group and put good, effective agents in place. He was extremely popular in and out of S.H.I.E.L.D. and had strong ties with the hero community. Without him, many "pessimists" and intellectuals theorized that S.H.I.E.L.D. would fall, and fall hard.

 

Unfortunately, they were right. S.H.I.E.L.D. ran into disastrous times. As aforementioned, Nick Fury did a mission in Latveria to stop them from attacking the U.S. However, it was totally unauthorized, and Fury was forced to resign from S.H.I.E.L.D. Warrants went out for his arrest.

 

The new head of S.H.I.E.L.D. was Maria Hill-who proved to be incompetent at the position. The President of the U.S. was a driving force behind Hill's election-for two reasons.

 

Hill was an American, so the President expected her to be loyal first and foremost to the U.S. even though S.H.I.E.L.D. was a United Nations facility. Also, many men and women had been members of S.H.I.E.L.D. for a long time, and they would have been much better as the head of S.H.I.E.L.D.. However, they were "too loyal to Fury", so Hill got the job to keep the Fury loyalists out.

 

S.H.I.E.L.D. took a downward turn. Fury's work as the head of S.H.I.E.L.D. was extremely effective, and an insane amount of work had kept corruption out of the huge organization.

 

Unfortunately, Hill wasn't as good as Fury at it, and S.H.I.E.L.D. became corrupt and weak. Crimes were committed. Criminals were "stockpiled" in prison. Worst of all, the Avengers discovered that someone was mining the anti-metal in the Savage Land using slave labor-and S.H.I.E.L.D. was the prime suspect.

 

Subdivisions

 

S.H.I.E.L.D. also has many subdivisions and other groups based off it. Two other groups have been formed from S.H.I.E.L.D.:

S.W.O.R.D. and S.T.R.I.K.E.

 

S.W.O.R.D. stands for Sentient World Observation and Response Department. As you can easily guess, S.W.O.R.D. works with extraterrestrials. It stops extraterrestrial threats, keeps tabs on powerful aliens, etc. They are not a subdivision of S.H.I.E.L.D. but are actually a separate, yet similar group that simply works with S.H.I.E.L.D.

 

However, they are closely affiliated with both S.H.I.E.L.D. and the United Nations. S.W.O.R.D. encountered Ord, an alien who was convinced that a mutant from Earth was destined to destroy his planet.

 

He attempted to attack Earth to kill all the mutants but S.W.O.R.D. and the X-Men stopped him, effectively stopping an interplanetary war. The leader of S.W.O.R.D. is Abigail Brand, a tough, effective leader who stopped many crises and is extremely valuable to S.H.I.E.L.D.

 

She was a Fury loyalist and respected him a lot and greatly dislikes Maria Hill. As for Tony Stark, he has not encountered S.W.O.R.D. or Brand yet. S.W.O.R.D. is currently trying to stop another war with a planet called Breakworld.

 

Since S.H.I.E.L.D. is loyal to the United Nations two countries have created their own answer to S.H.I.E.L.D. that works within their country and their country alone. The first to appear was the British version of S.H.I.E.L.D., S.T.R.I.K.E. (Special Tactical Reserve for International Key Emergencies).

 

S.T.R.I.K.E. was British, but one of their early leaders, Tod Radcliffe, was revealed to be a traitor that worked for the Red Skull. The next leader was Lance Hunter. They worked closely with Captain Britain.

 

However, Vixen (Captain Britain's enemy) took them over and S.T.R.I.K.E. was disbanded. The most prominent person to work for S.T.R.I.K.E. was Betsy Braddock, who had psychic powers. After leaving S.T.R.I.K.E.. she joined the X-Men as the heroine Psylocke.

 

S.A.F.E. is the United States answer to S.H.I.E.L.D. The name stands for Strategic Action For Emergencies. S.A.F.E. is nearly identical to S.H.I.E.L.D., except they are only in the U.S. They have fought many enemies, including Doctor Doom and Baron Heinrich Zemo. The leader is Sean Morgan, a competent leader and good soldier. Joshua Ballard is the most prolific agent, and he's extremely helpful-he's the Dum Dum Dugan of S.A.F.E..

 

Along with these agencies, other small groups have been formed including Euromind and Starcore.

 

Another group that has continually showed up over the years is the Cape Killers. They were never an official S.H.I.E.L.D. group, but S.H.I.E.L.D. agents did make up it's ranks.

 

The term Cape Killers was given to any group of soldiers trained to hunt, subdue and in worst case scenario kill meta humans. The Cape Killers have had such members as Agent Abrams, Agent Cleery, Dum Dum Dugan, & Special Agent Marquez, and her partner Agent McAllister.

 

Members

 

Nick Fury

 

The most prominent, important, and effective member of S.H.I.E.L.D. is the man who runs it all, Nick Fury. Fury was born in New York City in 1921, to decorated World War I pilot Jack Fury. He and his friend Red Hargrove lusted after adventure-so they joined the U.S. Army in World War II.

 

Nick was an adept soldier, and he was given command of the First Attack Squad-nicknamed the Howling Commandos. The Howling Commandos were extremely effective-and Fury quickly became a decorated war hero.

 

After the war, Fury was hit by a land mine and badly injured. The government decided to test a new formula on him-that would heal him and greatly retard his aging. This was called the Infinity Formula.

 

It worked-Fury was restored to full strength and is still in his physical prime today. He eventually joined the CIA and became a CIA agent in Korea, also interacting with the Fantastic Four.

 

Tony Stark hired him to be the second commander of S.H.I.E.L.D. and Fury excelled at the job. Under his leadership, S.H.I.E.L.D. grew and grew until it is now one of the most powerful organizations in the world. Fury led S.H.I.E.L.D. for over forty years, working tirelessly and keeping it powerful and secret.

 

However, Fury recently discovered that Latveria, led by the evil Doctor Doom, was planning to attack America. He immediately had S.H.I.E.L.D. launch a covert assault on the country, effectively stopping the massive attack that would have taken place.

 

A year later, Latveria attacked back, and thousands were killed. Fury was blamed-and Luke Cage was injured. Captain America was angered at Fury. Eventually, this culminated in Fury being fired as commander of S.H.I.E.L.D.. A warrant was put out for his arrest, and Maria Hill took his place as the head of S.H.I.E.L.D.

 

Hill still leads S.H.I.E.L.D. and Fury is still in hiding. He keeps control over parts of S.H.I.E.L.D. and lent a base to the Secret Avengers during Civil War.

 

Nick Fury is infused with the Infinity Formula, meaning he barely ages at all. He is an soldier, with lots of experience as both a warrior and a leader. He is a master tactician and strategist, and is very good with all sorts of weapons.

 

He wields great political power as the head of S.H.I.E.L.D., and is a very good hand-to-hand combatant.

 

Nick Fury is not the only S.H.I.E.L.D. agent-not by a long shot. Many of the other important S.H.I.E.L.D. members date back from Fury's old team-the Howling Commandos.

 

Dum Dum Dugan

 

Dum Dum Dugan (Timothy Aloysius Cadwallader Dugan) was working as a circus strongman before he enlisted in World War II.

 

He was put in the Howling Commandos, a new division led by Nick Fury. He was extremely valuable to the team-he was so strong that he was able to save them from many things that should have killed them.

 

He was a great marksman, strongman, and leader, and he became Fury's second-in-command. When the war ended, Fury invited Dugan into S.H.I.E.L.D. as his second-in-command. Dugan has easily been the second-most-important person to S.H.I.E.L.D.

 

His missions have included tracking down and killing a radioactive monster ( Godzilla, in the Godzilla Squad) and various independent missions to take super villains (often with Squirrel Girl).

 

For a long time, he worked maintaining security on the Helicarrier, and working for Fury whenever needed. When Fury was replaced by Maria Hill, he was her second-in-command and was put in charge of mutant affairs.

 

This involved conflicts with Wolverine, who he had a mysterious contact with. Eventually, he tried to resign from S.H.I.E.L.D. when Tony Stark took control. He was rejected-he was too important to S.H.I.E.L.D. to quit. He was recently shot in the chest by Daken, but he survived, and is currently in the hospital.

 

Gabriel Jones

 

Gabriel Jones was a young man living in New York City when a little thing called World War II popped up. Jones joined the army, and realized that he was naturally a great soldier and leader. He was put into the elite Howling Commandos and proved invaluable to the team.

 

After the war was over, Jones served on the Godzilla Squad with other former Howling Commandos (not Fury), and later joined S.H.I.E.L.D.

 

He ran out missions with or without other agents for S.H.I.E.L.D. until he retired, due to the events in the miniseries "Nick Fury vs. S.H.I.E.L.D.." He remains retired today, living the quiet, peaceful life. He sure deserves that. He also has the honor of being the first African-American in the Howling Commandos.

 

Sharon Carter aka Agent 13

 

Agent 13 (also known as Sharon Carter), is one of the most important members of S.H.I.E.L.D.. As a young girl, Sharon loved hearing stories of her older sister Peggy, who was a World War 1 flying ace and freedom fighter. Peggy had worked with Captain America, and the two fell in love.

 

However, Cap never learned her name, and he then froze in suspended animation. Sharon was a good fighter and loved justice, so she joined S.H.I.E.L.D. under the code-name "Agent 13" and ran out several missions for them.

 

She kept crossing paths with Cap, who had been resurrected and they eventually fell in love. Cap wanted her to quit as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, but she refused. Eventually, her death was faked so she could be sent off on a top-secret mission. The mission failed, and she was presumed dead. Cap was never informed that her death was faked the first time.

 

However, he eventually found her, and she rejoined S.H.I.E.L.D.. She now works as a high-level agent, reporting directly to Hill for missions. Recently, she was given a hypnotic suggestion by Dr. Faustus to help kill Captain America, and under hypnotism, shot him in the stomach after Crossbones, a sniper and Red Skull's henchman, shot him.

 

Other important S.H.I.E.L.D. agents include Contessa Valentina Allegra de la Fontaine, Clay Quartermain, Jimmy Woo, and Jasper Sitwell.

 

HYDRA***

 

Since S.H.I.E.L.D. is a major force and such a huge, powerful organization, it bound to have many enemies. Most of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s enemies are big groups-and the most powerful, fearsome, and deadly one of them all is HYDRA.

 

HYDRA is S.H.I.E.L.D.'s archenemy. The motto of the group is "Cut off one of our heads, and two more will take it's place!" This is a reference to the Ancient Greek monster called the hydra, which fought Hercules and had the same ability.

 

HYDRA is a terrorist group dedicated to taking over the world and destroying S.H.I.E.L.D., which has foiled them many a time.

 

HYDRA has actually been around for centuries. The group goes all the way back to Imperial Japan, which only sought to rule Japan. This all changed in the 1900s when Wolfgang Von Strucker joined the group. Strucker was insane, deluded, and powerful-and he quickly rose to the top of the group.

 

He steered it away from Japan and decided on a new goal-rule the world! When he got to the top, he changed his name and got a title-he became Baron Strucker.

 

HYDRA was originally very open, not quiet, and S.H.I.E.L.D. was actually specifically formed to fight it (as you will read later). HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D. became enemies-constantly warring to take each other down. HYDRA made several daring moves.

 

Strucker invented the "Overkill Horn", which would detonate all nuclear explosives worldwide. Later came the biological "Death-Spore Bomb". Both plots were foiled by S.H.I.E.L.D., and the latter resulted in Strucker's death.

 

After Baron Strucker died, HYDRA split into many mini-groups, or "heads" of HYDRA. Some of these were East Coast HYDRA, Las Vegas HYDRA, New York HYDRA, and Germany HYDRA. These factions also genetically created super agents for HYDRA, resulting in the creation of many villains.

 

However, this backfired when the great hero Spider-Woman was created by HYDRA related. Eventually Strucker was revived, and he reunited HYDRA. They continued their war against S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Earth.

 

HYDRA later planned a massive attack on the U.S-they smuggled nuclear missile into America and was going to launch a bio nuclear assault on a major aquifer.

 

They also tried to brainwash an army of heroes and villains (including Elektra and Northstar). Both times, they were foiled by S.H.I.E.L.D. and the New Avengers (including Spider-Woman, who they created).

 

HYDRA is still extremely dangerous, and cannot be stopped easily. The only reason they don't currently rule the world is because of the heroic efforts of S.H.I.E.L.D..

 

The HYDRA Agent is similar to the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. He is extremely well-trained-only the elite become agents. They carry a large variety of weapons and are trained especially in stealth.

 

HYDRA Agents often get missions to detonate, destroy, beat up, or burn things, and they are superb fighters. Some Agents of HYDRA have been Red Skull, Spider-Woman, Kingpin, and many others.

 

A.I.M.

 

Although HYDRA is easily S.H.I.E.L.D.'s greatest enemy, it is by no means the only one. One of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s other enemies is A.I.M.

 

A.I.M. (Advanced Idea Mechanics) was created as a subdivision of HYDRA, by Baron Strucker. A.I.M.'s purpose was to create new technological wonders for HYDRA to use against S.H.I.E.L.D. and to take over the world.

 

It is a group of scientists, industrialists, and technological geniuses, and originally, they provided and designed weapons, defenses, and huge assault mechanisms for HYDRA. However, HYDRA suffered a huge defeat from the U.S and Japan Armies, so A.I.M. broke off into it's own group.

 

Like HYDRA, A.I.M.'s goal is to rule the Earth. However, unlike HYDRA, who wants to do it by force, A.I.M. seeks domination by technological means. They have created huge weapons and marvels before, and share one trait with HYDRA-they are dedicated to destroying S.H.I.E.L.D.. A.I.M. was led by the Scientist Supreme, an evil, shadowy figure where very little about him is known by S.H.I.E.L.D..

 

The Cosmic Cube was an intensely powerful item as it could literally alter reality to the user's whim. Red Skull once stole it and wreaked havoc with it, but that was later.

 

The Cube was created by the scientists at A.I.M., who sought to use it to rule the world. However, the Cube actually evolved into a new creature, Kubik, and A.I.M. no longer controls it. In this vein, A.I.M. created the Super-Adaptoid, which could exactly mimic the powers and appearance of other superheroes and villains.

 

Although it was immensely powerful, the Adaptoid contained a sliver of the Cosmic Cube that gave it its power. When the Cube became Kubik, it wanted the shard back, so it easily destroyed the creature and regained the sliver.

 

A.I.M. also created M.O.D.O.K. (Mobile Organism Designed Only for Killing). M.O.D.O.K. was originally one of AIM's own scientists, and he took control of A.I.M. and improved it, continuing the fight to rule the world and destroy S.H.I.E.L.D..

 

M.O.D.O.K. still is in charge of A.I.M. Along with A.I.M., some of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s enemies are Zodiac and Godzilla.

 

Zodiac

 

Zodiac is a criminal organization that was created using S.H.I.E.L.D. technology. Each member is another sign of the Zodiac, and they are dedicated to world domination. Although the Zodiac mostly fights the Avengers, they often collide with S.H.I.E.L.D. in their efforts to have the world ruled by their criminal organization.

 

Godzilla

 

Godzilla***** was a radioactive monster that rose out of the waters of Tokyo, Japan. S.H.I.E.L.D. immediately responded to the crisis, and formed the Godzilla Squad out of some of its members.

 

The Squad was led by Dum Dum Dugan (who never fully recovered from the experience), and its mission was to take down Godzilla.

 

Godzilla caused lots of property damage around Asia and North America before it was finally driven back into the sea. Obviously, this is based on the Japanese movie in real life of the same name-minus the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.

 

Major Story Arcs

 

Civil War

 

The Civil War started when the New Warriors (consisting of Robbie Baldwin, Namorita, Microbe, and Night Thrasher) went on a basic mission to catch four criminals in an old house.

 

They included Speedfreek and an old Captain Marvel villain- Nitro. These villains had escaped from The Raft when Electro broke them out. The New Warriors easily defeated the villains-but Nitro was escaping.

 

Namorita stopped him, but he let off an explosion, destroying Stamford and murdering 600 people.

 

Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man,**** proposed the Superhuman Registration Act, where all super humans would have to register their powers and identities. They'd basically be cops. Maria Hill, who was the head of S.H.I.E.L.D. supported the Act, and eventually it was passed.

 

Many super humans disagreed with the Act, the most important and prolific being Captain America. S.H.I.E.L.D. was enlisted by the U.S. government to take down Cap and his anti-registration hero team, the Secret Avengers.

 

New S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents, nicknamed cape-killers, went after anti-reg heroes. S.H.I.E.L.D. was led by Maria Hill, and was fully pro-reg. Iron Man worked closely with S.H.I.E.L.D. also-he revealed his identity as Tony Stark.

 

Many battles were fought. Eventually, Tony Stark's pro-registration side-and S.H.I.E.L.D. won. However, Maria Hill found out why she had been made the head of S.H.I.E.L.D., as aforementioned-to keep more effective "Fury loyalists" out and be loyal to the U.S. She was not supposed to be effective, and she wasn't.

 

Dismayed, she turned leadership of S.H.I.E.L.D. over to the man she thought deserved it most-Tony Stark. Stark, also Iron Man, is currently the leader and head of S.H.I.E.L.D..

 

H.A.M.M.E.R.

 

In the fallout of Secret Invasion Norman Osborn is granted the keys to the whole world and closes down S.H.I.E.L.D. and replaces it with his own special forces known as H.A.M.M.E.R. He also replaces all of the organization's Stark Tech (which had been compromised during the Secret Invasion) with technology and weapons created by Oscorp.

 

Nick Fury also discovers a dark secret about who as been pulling S.H.I.E.L.D.'s strings the whole time he was an agent in Secret Warriors #1.

 

Weapons and Equipment

 

LMDs

 

S.H.I.E.L.D. has a lot of technology, important technology that is often used. Perhaps the most important is the LMD- Life Model Decoy.

 

The Life Model Decoy is an android that is absolutely indistinguishable from whoever it impersonates. Fingerprints, DNA, hair, speech, thought patterns (for telepaths), anything, the Decoy is exactly the same. However, it is an android.

 

LMDs are used to duplicate people and take their place if they are going to be assassinated or there is a strong chance of an attack. LMDs have been used in place of personnel since the beginning of the organization, including Jessica Drew.

 

Most often, they have been used as a substitute for Nick Fury, who has had at least five LMDs destroyed in attempts to have him killed. These robots are a lot of the reason that many key S.H.I.E.L.D. members are still alive.

 

The Zodiac, a criminal organization, was created using stolen S.H.I.E.L.D. LMDs. Also, LMDs have gained sentience a few times. The Deltites were a group of LMDs that gained sentience and tried to infiltrate S.H.I.E.L.D.. They were narrowly defeated by Nick Fury.

 

Red Ronin

 

S.H.I.E.L.D. also has used robot exoskeletons and gargantuan robots to achieve its ends. Red Ronin is the most important of those. Red Ronin was a huge, super powerful robot that was used by the Godzilla Squad.

 

The robot was destroyed by Godzilla before he was driven into the sea. It was rebuilt, but was hijacked by a mad scientist who was trying to start World War Three. It was stopped by the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. regained the remains.

 

It has been stolen and used for evil many times, by Dr. Doom, The Hand, and Henry Gyrich. Each time, the robot has been defeated and rebuilt (by heroes like Wasp and Hulk)-only to be stolen again. Red Ronin is currently possessed and used by the evil villain The Fixer-it appears that the cycle is still going.

 

The Helicarrier

 

Of course, the most prolific technology created and used by S.H.I.E.L.D. is the Helicarrier.

 

The Helicarrier is outfitted with weapons, security, and is constantly filled with S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who are extremely effective and good fighters.

 

The Helicarrier is always being attacked by villains, and they are barely ever successful. A smaller version of the Helicarrier, the Behemoth, is often used by S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents on missions, including by the Squad and by Dum Dum Dugan.

 

The Behemoth is similar to the Helicarrier, only there is less weapons, technology, and it isn't as fast or powerful.

 

As for other technology, S.H.I.E.L.D. has access to an infinite amount of military-level tech. Tools, weapons, anything that's used, S.H.I.E.L.D. can get.

 

Anything from pistols to nuclear weapons is easily attainable. Fighter jets are often used by S.H.I.E.L.D. agents when it is necessary for their mission.

  

⚡ Happy 🎯 Heroclix 💫 Friday! 👽

_____________________________

A year of the shows and performers of the Bijou Planks Theater.

 

Secret Identity: N/A

 

Publisher: Marvel

 

First appearance: Strange Tales #135 (August 1965)

 

Created by: Stan Lee (writer)

Jack Kirby (artist)

 

* Steranko art

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/48269254846/

 

** Nick Fury identity crisis

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/53250989962/

 

*** Baron von Strucker and Hydra

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/51932058251/

 

**** Tony Stark, Iron Man

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/52817252977/

 

***** Godzilla

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/25055625828/

I could see the tower of a church from the main road. I saw it from a good two miles away, towering over the mature trees of a wood.

 

It must be one heck of a church I thought, turning down the lane leading to it, to find the lane lead to Worstead.

 

Worstead: that explained it. A village so associated with wool, a type of woolen cloth is named after it.

 

Beside the church is the market square, lined with fine buildings, and to the west, St Mary. A huge cathedral of a church. After snapping the village, I walk to the porch on the south side and go in, smiling.

 

I was met by a warden who saw the look of delight on my face, and took me on a grand tour. How lucky was I?

 

------------------------------------------

 

In the reign of Edward the Confessor, the lordship of this town belonged to the abbot of St. Bennet of Holm, with 2 carucates and an half of land, 8 villains, 30 borderers, 2 carucates in demean, 3 among the tenants, 8 acres of meadow, paunage for 16 swine, a mill, and 3 socmen, valued at 60s. and at the survey at 4l.

 

There were 2 churches with 28 acres, valued therein, and was for the provision of the monks.

 

At the survey, Robert, an officer of the cross-bow-men, held it of the abbot; it was one leuca long, and half a leuca broad and a perch, and paid 18d. gelt. St. Bennet's abbey held also in the said town, in King Edward's time, a carucate of land, with 2 villains, 10 borderers, one carucate in demean, and 2 among the tenants and 2 acres of meadow, &c. valued at 40s. (fn. 1)

 

Odo, son of Robert, the cross-bowman, assumed, according to the custom of that age, the name of Warsted, from this his town and lordship; he held it of the abbot by one knight's fee, being the gift of King Canute to the abbey on his foundation of it. (fn. 2)

 

This Odo. and Robert his son, gave lands to the abbey, and the mill at Bordestede. He was father of Peter, whose son Philip held one fee in the 20th of Henry III.

 

Nicholas son of Philip de Wursted, gave to the abbot all his lands here by deed, dated in the 2d of Edward I. Henry being then abbot.

 

Richard de Worstede was also a son of Odo, and had by Margaret his wife, daughter of Robert de Manteby, Sir Robert de Worstede, who died sans issue.—This Sir Robert and Sir John de Worstede, were witnesses to a deed of confirmation, of Jeffrey, son of Bartholomew de Glanvile, to Bromholm priory.

 

The temporalities of the abbot in 1428, were 3l. 12s. ob. q. This came at the Dissolution, to the see of Norwich; and in the 3d and 4th of Philip and Mary, was farmed of the Bishop, at 41s. and 3d. per ann. by Bertram Themilthorp.

 

The prior of Pentney had a lordship, granted to that house by John de Worstede, containing a messuage, a carucate of land, a mill, 50s. rent, 10 acres of wood, with the whole pond of Worstede and Crowbeck, and the whole alder carr, regranted by Simon the prior, to John for life.

 

In the year 1328, the temporalities of this prory were valued at 8l. 10s. 4d.—On the Dissolution, May 22, in the 36th of Henry VIII. it was granted to John Spencer.

 

The prior also of Hempton had a manor, valued with a mill, &c. at 4l. 8s. 11d. which on the Dissolution was granted as above, to John Spencer. Leonard Spencer and Catherina his wife, sold both these lordships to Robert Paston, and Thomas Thimblethorp, with their appertenances in Sloley, Westwick, &c. on June 3, in the 8th of Elizabeth; and after they are said to be aliened to — Utber, and so to — Mitson.

 

Matthew de Gunton had a manor here which he granted to William, son of William de Stalham, on his marriage with Isabel his daughter, being 49s. 3d. rent. This came to Sir Jeffrey Wythe, by his marriage with the daughter and heir of Sir William Stalham.

 

In the 9th of Edward II. Nicholas de Salicibus or of the Willows, and Elen his wife, conveyed to Jeffrey Wythe, and Isabel his wife, the 5th part of 28 messuages, 114 acres of land, 5 of turbary, with 27s. and 8d. rent here, in Dilham and Smalburgh, settled on Isabel; and Wynesia, widow of Sir Oliver Wythe, released to William Dunning of this town, all her right of dower in this town, and Westwick.

 

After this it came to Sir William Calthorp, by the marriage of Amy, daughter and heir of Sir John Wythe, and was sold by Edward Calthorp, Esq. of Kirby Cane, December 8, in the 21st of Henry VIII. to Leonard Spencer of Blofield, Gent. for 40l. in hand paid, and 40 marks more on full assurance being made. John Spencer was lord in the 2d of Edward VI. and Leonard Spencer in 1572.

 

Erpingham and Gaines's manor in Irstede, held by John Gross, Esq. at his death in 1408, which he left to his widow Margaret, extended into this town. John Skarburgh, Gent. had a prœcipe to deliver it to Miles Bayspoole, Gent. in the first of James I.

 

Before this, in the 17th of Elizabeth, William Chytham conveyed it to William Tymberley. The Grosses were early enfeoffed of a lordship under the abbot of Holm. Reginald le Gross was lord in the reign of Henry III. and had a charter for a weekly mercate on Friday.

 

Sir Oliver de Ingham held here and in Ingham, a knight's fee of Robert de Tateshale, in the first of Edward I. This came afterwards by the heiress of Ingham to the Stapletons; and in the 2d of Richard II. Sir Roger Boys, &c. trustees, aliened to the prior of the Holy Trinity of Ingham, a messuage, with 84 acres of land, 3 of meadow, one of pasture, in Worstede and Scothow, by license.

 

Thomas Moore, &c. aliened to the said convent, in the 16th of that King, 8 messuages, 221 acres of land, 22 of meadow, 4 of moor, and the rent of 11s. 11d. per ann. in this town, Ingham, Walcot, &c. held of the honour of Eye.

 

In the 3d of Henry IV. the prior's manor, late Sir Oliver de Ingham's, was held of Sir Constantine Clifton, of the barony of Tateshale.

 

The prior of Bromholm had also a lordship. In the 3d of Henry IV. the heirs of William Smalburgh held here and in Barton, &c. half a fee of the prior, with William Sywardby, and they of the Earl of Suffolk, as part of the honour of Eye, in 1428. The temporalities of this monastery were 104s. 2d. ob.

 

After the Dissolution, on May 26, in the 6th year of Edward VI. it was granted to Henry Grey Duke of Suffolk.

 

William Gillet, son and heir of William, had a messuage, a garden, 100 acres of land, 6 of meadow, 20 of pasture, and 2 of wood, called Fenn's and Skitt's, in the 23d of Elizabeth. John Kempt aliened it September 1, in the 7th of King James I. to Edmund Themilthorpe.

 

Thomas Seive of Worsted, had land here by the marriage of Margarel, one of the daughters of Sir James de Ilketeshale, Knt. of Suffolk, in the reign of Henry VI. she dying about the 30th of that King, left 3 daughters and coheirs; Cecilia, married to John Ovy, who left his lands here by will, in 1472, to Thomas his son, &c. by Emme his wife. Jane, a daughter and coheir of Seive, married William Smith; and Margaret, the 3d, Thomas Jeffrey.

 

The tenths were 14l. 10s. ob. q Deducted 1l. 19s. 1d. ob.

 

The town is seated in a flat country, and has a weekly mercate on Saturday

 

Worsted stuffs are said to have taken that name from their being first manufactured here. I find them mentioned in the 2d year of Edward III. and the weavers and workers were then by parliament enjoined to work them up to a better assise than they had done; and an enquiry was to be made after the behaviour of Robert P - - - the alnager for these stuffs.

 

Many privileges were after granted to the workers of them, Ao. 1 Richard II. &c. the merchants came into England, as appears in the 37th of Edward III. to purchase them.

 

The Church is dedicated to St. Mary, has a nave, 2 isles, and a chancel covered with lead, and a square tower with 6 bells, and was a rectory in the patronage of the family of De Worstede.

 

Sir Robert de Worsted, son of Richard de Worstede, gave by deed, (fn. 3) sans date, to the priory of Norwich, the patronage of this church, about the beginning of the reign of King Henry III. to which Sir John de Wirstede, Bartholomew de Reedham, Eustace de Berningham, &c. were witnesses; and by another deed, he gave to them the chapel of St. Andrew, in this town: witnesses, Sir G. de Bocland, John de Wirstede, Jordan de Soukeville, then an itinerant justice in Norfolk, which was confirmed by Pandulf Bishop of Norwich.

 

He also gave them lands with certain villains, the abbot of Holm also confirmed it.

 

Sir Reginald le Gross quitclaimed all his right in the aforesaid church and chapel, to Simon the prior, and the convent of Norwich.

 

Thomas de Blundevile Bishop of Norwich, also confirmed to them the said church, to take place on the decease of John de Wurchestede, and Adam de Wurchestede, who then held it in 1226; and in 1256, on the 8th of the calends of August, a vicarage was settled on the appropriation of the said church to the monks of Norwich, when a manse or house was given to the vicar, with an acre of land, by the chapel of St. Andrew with all the altarage of the church, (except the tithes of the mills) and the rents of assise belonging to the said chapel, and the oblations thereof; but if the oblations and profits of the said chapel exceeded 5 marks, the remainder was to go to the prior and convent, and the vicar was to repair the said chapel, and to find all ornaments, &c.

 

The vicar was also to have tithe of flax, hemp, and all other small tithes, it was appropriated to the prior's table, and to the cellarer of the priory; but after this, in the first of April following, it was appropriated entirely to the prior's table, and the church of Hemlington in Norfolk, appropriated to him instead of this.

 

In the reign of Edward I. there belonged to the appropriated rectory, a house, with 27 acres and a rood of land, and the church was valued at 25 marks, the vicarage at 5l. Peter-pence, 12d. and the portion of Kerbrook preceptory was 3s.—The prior had also a manor, Edward I. in his 35th year granting him free warren.

 

Vicars.

 

1256, Warin de Festorton, instituted vicar, presented by the prior and convent of Norwich.

 

John occurs vicar in 1299.

 

1304, Edmund Johnes, vicar.

 

Peter de Reynham, vicar.

 

1346, William de Aldeby.

 

1353, Oliver de Wytton.

 

1355, Roger de Felthorp.

 

1357, John de Massingham.

 

1365, John de Kynneburle; in his time, Ao. 2d of Richard II. the chancel of this church was new built; the prior granted 13 oaks out of Plumsted wood, and timber also out of St. Leonard's wood; and the expenses in money were 24l. 4l. 4d.

 

1386, Edmund Martyn, vicar.

 

On the dissolution of the priory, the manor belonging to it, with the rectory, and the patronage of the vicarage, were granted to the dean and chapter of Norwich; and the vicarage is valued at 10l. per ann.

 

Mr. Henry Aldred, vicar.

 

In 1603, William Fleming, vicar, returned 296 communicants 1730.

 

1660, Edmund Wharton, (fn. 4) occurs vicar.

 

Mr. William Berney.

 

Richard Oram, by the dean and chapter of Norwich.

 

1762, Ephr. Megoe.

 

On a gravestone in the chancel,

 

Hic lapis in pannis Spicer tenet ossa Johannis Qui Quadringentesimo pius XL et iii - - - - Anno.

 

Hic jacet D'ns. Johs. Yop. quo'da' Rector. Ecclie de Boton.

 

¶Sir Robert Camownde, priest, was buried in 1482, in the chapel of St. John, of this church, and wills that all the said chapel be paved with marbyll stone, and to the gravestone of John Ovy, with his goods. (fn. 5) —Richard Watls buried in St. John Baptist's chapel 1509, and I will have a prest to sing and pray 6 years in the church except the Fryday in ev'ry week, in the chapel of St. Andrew of Worsted. Agnes Watts, his widow, buried in the said chapel, 1529, and benefactrix to the guilds of our Lady and St. Thomas, and to the repair of St. Andrew's chapel, and gives meadow land to find two lamps in the church for ever, if the King's laws will permit, otherwise to be sold and to buy cattle for that purpose.

 

Here was also St. John Baptist's guild. In the church were these arms; Gules, on a fess, argent, three flowers, azure, between three popinjays, borne by—prior of Norwich. Argent, a cross, sable, the priory arms. Calthorp and Stapleton.

 

www.british-history.ac.uk/topographical-hist-norfolk/vol1...

 

--------------------------------------------

 

As a measure of how civilised East Anglia is, it is a simple and cheap matter to explore the region by train and bicycle. There is a flat rate of nine pounds a day for unlimited travel between stations in Suffolk, Norfolk and East Cambridgeshire. You can take a bike on any train for a pound, although in reality conductors rarely charge for this service. This practice dates back to pre-privatisation days, and Anglia Railways and One Trains have continued to honour it, for which I am mightily grateful. The Suffolk and Norfolk Churches sites would not be so extensive without it.

 

I left Ipswich at twenty to eight. It was a thinly bright April morning, the sun without power beyond dazzling through the haze in the eastern sky. I was glad of my jacket, but also glad I had sun glasses with me - it was going to be a perfect day for a bike ride.

 

As the train plodded through Ipswich's monotonous northern suburbs, I examined the ordnance survey map. I flicked through Pevsner and Mortlock, as industrial units gave way to green fields, copses and the winding Gipping. Restless, I gazed out the window. A swan awoke on a lake near Needham Market, stretching itself and beating its wings into life. Crows raided a skip on rubble near the Stowmarket paint factory. Then we were really in the countryside, rushing headlong through the sleepy fields beyond Haughley and Mendelsham. Near Finningham, a large female deer cowered silently in the hedge, not ten metres from the track. A few minutes later, and a wise old hare huddled in a furrow, flat-eared, patient.

 

The train pulled into the gathering surprise of Norwich. I hauled my bike a couple of platforms over to the Sheringham line. Other people out for the day got on, including a couple dressed in vintage railway costumes. I assumed they were bound for the steam line at Sheringham. Again, the monotony of another city's suburbs petered out into agricultural business, this time in bright sunshine, and so it was that just after nine o'clock we arrived at Worstead station. I was the only person to get off. "See you later" called the conductor cheerily as I rode off of the platform into the lane, and of course he was right. There is only one train that shuttles back and forth along this line all day, and he was in charge of it.

 

I cycled from the station up into the village, a distance of about two miles. I didn't pass anyone, and here in the large village there was nobody about, just a fat cat lazily rolling in the village square. The sun was cutting the haze, the sky wide and blue. It was like being in France.

 

The church is absolutely enormous, and hemmed in a tight little graveyard. My resolution to take more distant shots went right out the window. Like Salle, and Southwold in Suffolk, St Mary was all built in one go, pretty much. This happened in the late 14th century. As at Salle, it is reflective of a large number of bequests from different people over a short period rather than anyone fabulously rich doing it on their own, and the money, of course, came from wool. Worstead is still the name of a fabric today.

 

I said it was pretty much built at one go, but there was still plenty of money about in the 15th century to raise the clerestory and install a hammerbeam roof. This seems to have been such an ambitious project that flying buttresses had to be installed on top of the aisles to hold the top of the nave up, an expedient measure that has left the building both interesting and beautiful.

 

Inside, I feared another Happisburgh, but it was gorgeous. Stepping out of the sunlight into the slight chill of a vast open space, I wandered around feasting on this stunningly lovely building.

 

As regular users of the sites will know, I don't always warm to big churches, but St Mary is so pretty inside that it is hard not to love it. This is partly helped by the removal of all pews and benches from the aisle. Those that remain in the body of the church are lovely 18th century box pews, quite out of keeping with the medieval nature of the rest of the building, but quirky and oddly delightful. The great tower arch is elegant, and is thrown into relief by the towering font cover. The ringing gallery under the tower is dated 1501, and is reminiscent of the one at Cawston. The tower screen below it takes the breath away, and you find yourself looking around to see where it could have come from. In fact, it is almost certainly a work of the Victorians, but it is pretty well perfect. The paintings in the dado are apparently copies of windows by Sir Joshua Reynolds at New College, Oxford.

 

Worstead is rightly famous for its screen, but this is more because of its height, elegance and completeness than it is its authenticity. The figures on the dado have been repainted so recklessly that it is rather hard to see who some of them were ever meant to be. As at Woolpit in Suffolk, the Victorians appear to have repainted them more with an eye to enthusiasm than accuracy. I stood there, fantasising, making up stories, until, alongside familiar figures like St Peter, St James and St Matthew, I had identified St Lassitude, the patron Saint of a quiet night in, depicted reading his book. Other Saints, identified by their symbols, include St Quirinus with his hamster, and St Obligamus with his golden pineapple. Or so it seemed to me.

 

Not much less odd are the two figures on the extreme right. The Victorians do not appear to have repainted them. The first shows a man holding three nails, and is probably St William of Norwich, more familiar from the screen at Loddon. The second shows a figure crucified, arms tied to the spans. This may be the infamous Uncumber, the bearded lady of early medieval mythology - she grew a beard to fend off unwanted suitors, although you can't help thinking there'd be a niche market for that kind of thing somewhere on the internet. Later, she was crucified, probably upside down. This figure is probably a woman, so nothing seems to fit better, although she isn't bearded as far as I could see. Situated on the extreme right, she is reflected by a crucified Christ as the Man of Sorrows on the extreme left.

 

Across the top rail, a dedicatory inscription winds, mysterious and beautiful.

 

Either side of the chancel arch and screen, the two aisle chapels are both in use, which is unusual and lovely. Both have small screens, each with just four figures. That on the north side is particularly lovely, and is where the blessed sacrament is reserved. The four figures are St Peter, St Bartholomew, St John the Baptist and St John the Divine. At least three of these are also on the rood screen, suggesting that either the images there are wholly Victorian, or these aisle screens came originally from elsewhere.

 

The south aisle chapel is simpler - it is here you enter the church through the priest door. The screen features another St Bartholomew, along with St Lawrence, St Philip and a Bishop.

 

St Mary is a building to wander around in, a place to enjoy for its great beauty rather than to interrogate for its medieval authenticity. As you turn corners, vistas open up; the view from the font to the south door, for example, or that back to the west from the chancel. All perfect, all stunning. The high church nature of the modern furnishings chimes perfectly with these architectural treats. And there are other significant medieval survivals - a fine brass of a Catholic priest, scraps of wall painting beside the chancel arch, and so on.

 

As at other churches in this benefice, the war memorial is complemented by photographs of all those commemorated. What a splendid idea, and what a labour of love. Also in common with other churches around here, St Mary has a second hand bookstall. As I explored the Worstead area, I found myself buying more and more of them, until by the time I got back to Ipswich station that evening, my rucksack was laden down with a dozen or more.

 

Simon Knott, April 2005

 

www.norfolkchurches.co.uk/worstead/worstead.htm

I could see the tower of a church from the main road. I saw it from a good two miles away, towering over the mature trees of a wood.

 

It must be one heck of a church I thought, turning down the lane leading to it, to find the lane lead to Worstead.

 

Worstead: that explained it. A village so associated with wool, a type of woolen cloth is named after it.

 

Beside the church is the market square, lined with fine buildings, and to the west, St Mary. A huge cathedral of a church. After snapping the village, I walk to the porch on the south side and go in, smiling.

 

I was met by a warden who saw the look of delight on my face, and took me on a grand tour. How lucky was I?

 

------------------------------------------

 

In the reign of Edward the Confessor, the lordship of this town belonged to the abbot of St. Bennet of Holm, with 2 carucates and an half of land, 8 villains, 30 borderers, 2 carucates in demean, 3 among the tenants, 8 acres of meadow, paunage for 16 swine, a mill, and 3 socmen, valued at 60s. and at the survey at 4l.

 

There were 2 churches with 28 acres, valued therein, and was for the provision of the monks.

 

At the survey, Robert, an officer of the cross-bow-men, held it of the abbot; it was one leuca long, and half a leuca broad and a perch, and paid 18d. gelt. St. Bennet's abbey held also in the said town, in King Edward's time, a carucate of land, with 2 villains, 10 borderers, one carucate in demean, and 2 among the tenants and 2 acres of meadow, &c. valued at 40s. (fn. 1)

 

Odo, son of Robert, the cross-bowman, assumed, according to the custom of that age, the name of Warsted, from this his town and lordship; he held it of the abbot by one knight's fee, being the gift of King Canute to the abbey on his foundation of it. (fn. 2)

 

This Odo. and Robert his son, gave lands to the abbey, and the mill at Bordestede. He was father of Peter, whose son Philip held one fee in the 20th of Henry III.

 

Nicholas son of Philip de Wursted, gave to the abbot all his lands here by deed, dated in the 2d of Edward I. Henry being then abbot.

 

Richard de Worstede was also a son of Odo, and had by Margaret his wife, daughter of Robert de Manteby, Sir Robert de Worstede, who died sans issue.—This Sir Robert and Sir John de Worstede, were witnesses to a deed of confirmation, of Jeffrey, son of Bartholomew de Glanvile, to Bromholm priory.

 

The temporalities of the abbot in 1428, were 3l. 12s. ob. q. This came at the Dissolution, to the see of Norwich; and in the 3d and 4th of Philip and Mary, was farmed of the Bishop, at 41s. and 3d. per ann. by Bertram Themilthorp.

 

The prior of Pentney had a lordship, granted to that house by John de Worstede, containing a messuage, a carucate of land, a mill, 50s. rent, 10 acres of wood, with the whole pond of Worstede and Crowbeck, and the whole alder carr, regranted by Simon the prior, to John for life.

 

In the year 1328, the temporalities of this prory were valued at 8l. 10s. 4d.—On the Dissolution, May 22, in the 36th of Henry VIII. it was granted to John Spencer.

 

The prior also of Hempton had a manor, valued with a mill, &c. at 4l. 8s. 11d. which on the Dissolution was granted as above, to John Spencer. Leonard Spencer and Catherina his wife, sold both these lordships to Robert Paston, and Thomas Thimblethorp, with their appertenances in Sloley, Westwick, &c. on June 3, in the 8th of Elizabeth; and after they are said to be aliened to — Utber, and so to — Mitson.

 

Matthew de Gunton had a manor here which he granted to William, son of William de Stalham, on his marriage with Isabel his daughter, being 49s. 3d. rent. This came to Sir Jeffrey Wythe, by his marriage with the daughter and heir of Sir William Stalham.

 

In the 9th of Edward II. Nicholas de Salicibus or of the Willows, and Elen his wife, conveyed to Jeffrey Wythe, and Isabel his wife, the 5th part of 28 messuages, 114 acres of land, 5 of turbary, with 27s. and 8d. rent here, in Dilham and Smalburgh, settled on Isabel; and Wynesia, widow of Sir Oliver Wythe, released to William Dunning of this town, all her right of dower in this town, and Westwick.

 

After this it came to Sir William Calthorp, by the marriage of Amy, daughter and heir of Sir John Wythe, and was sold by Edward Calthorp, Esq. of Kirby Cane, December 8, in the 21st of Henry VIII. to Leonard Spencer of Blofield, Gent. for 40l. in hand paid, and 40 marks more on full assurance being made. John Spencer was lord in the 2d of Edward VI. and Leonard Spencer in 1572.

 

Erpingham and Gaines's manor in Irstede, held by John Gross, Esq. at his death in 1408, which he left to his widow Margaret, extended into this town. John Skarburgh, Gent. had a prœcipe to deliver it to Miles Bayspoole, Gent. in the first of James I.

 

Before this, in the 17th of Elizabeth, William Chytham conveyed it to William Tymberley. The Grosses were early enfeoffed of a lordship under the abbot of Holm. Reginald le Gross was lord in the reign of Henry III. and had a charter for a weekly mercate on Friday.

 

Sir Oliver de Ingham held here and in Ingham, a knight's fee of Robert de Tateshale, in the first of Edward I. This came afterwards by the heiress of Ingham to the Stapletons; and in the 2d of Richard II. Sir Roger Boys, &c. trustees, aliened to the prior of the Holy Trinity of Ingham, a messuage, with 84 acres of land, 3 of meadow, one of pasture, in Worstede and Scothow, by license.

 

Thomas Moore, &c. aliened to the said convent, in the 16th of that King, 8 messuages, 221 acres of land, 22 of meadow, 4 of moor, and the rent of 11s. 11d. per ann. in this town, Ingham, Walcot, &c. held of the honour of Eye.

 

In the 3d of Henry IV. the prior's manor, late Sir Oliver de Ingham's, was held of Sir Constantine Clifton, of the barony of Tateshale.

 

The prior of Bromholm had also a lordship. In the 3d of Henry IV. the heirs of William Smalburgh held here and in Barton, &c. half a fee of the prior, with William Sywardby, and they of the Earl of Suffolk, as part of the honour of Eye, in 1428. The temporalities of this monastery were 104s. 2d. ob.

 

After the Dissolution, on May 26, in the 6th year of Edward VI. it was granted to Henry Grey Duke of Suffolk.

 

William Gillet, son and heir of William, had a messuage, a garden, 100 acres of land, 6 of meadow, 20 of pasture, and 2 of wood, called Fenn's and Skitt's, in the 23d of Elizabeth. John Kempt aliened it September 1, in the 7th of King James I. to Edmund Themilthorpe.

 

Thomas Seive of Worsted, had land here by the marriage of Margarel, one of the daughters of Sir James de Ilketeshale, Knt. of Suffolk, in the reign of Henry VI. she dying about the 30th of that King, left 3 daughters and coheirs; Cecilia, married to John Ovy, who left his lands here by will, in 1472, to Thomas his son, &c. by Emme his wife. Jane, a daughter and coheir of Seive, married William Smith; and Margaret, the 3d, Thomas Jeffrey.

 

The tenths were 14l. 10s. ob. q Deducted 1l. 19s. 1d. ob.

 

The town is seated in a flat country, and has a weekly mercate on Saturday

 

Worsted stuffs are said to have taken that name from their being first manufactured here. I find them mentioned in the 2d year of Edward III. and the weavers and workers were then by parliament enjoined to work them up to a better assise than they had done; and an enquiry was to be made after the behaviour of Robert P - - - the alnager for these stuffs.

 

Many privileges were after granted to the workers of them, Ao. 1 Richard II. &c. the merchants came into England, as appears in the 37th of Edward III. to purchase them.

 

The Church is dedicated to St. Mary, has a nave, 2 isles, and a chancel covered with lead, and a square tower with 6 bells, and was a rectory in the patronage of the family of De Worstede.

 

Sir Robert de Worsted, son of Richard de Worstede, gave by deed, (fn. 3) sans date, to the priory of Norwich, the patronage of this church, about the beginning of the reign of King Henry III. to which Sir John de Wirstede, Bartholomew de Reedham, Eustace de Berningham, &c. were witnesses; and by another deed, he gave to them the chapel of St. Andrew, in this town: witnesses, Sir G. de Bocland, John de Wirstede, Jordan de Soukeville, then an itinerant justice in Norfolk, which was confirmed by Pandulf Bishop of Norwich.

 

He also gave them lands with certain villains, the abbot of Holm also confirmed it.

 

Sir Reginald le Gross quitclaimed all his right in the aforesaid church and chapel, to Simon the prior, and the convent of Norwich.

 

Thomas de Blundevile Bishop of Norwich, also confirmed to them the said church, to take place on the decease of John de Wurchestede, and Adam de Wurchestede, who then held it in 1226; and in 1256, on the 8th of the calends of August, a vicarage was settled on the appropriation of the said church to the monks of Norwich, when a manse or house was given to the vicar, with an acre of land, by the chapel of St. Andrew with all the altarage of the church, (except the tithes of the mills) and the rents of assise belonging to the said chapel, and the oblations thereof; but if the oblations and profits of the said chapel exceeded 5 marks, the remainder was to go to the prior and convent, and the vicar was to repair the said chapel, and to find all ornaments, &c.

 

The vicar was also to have tithe of flax, hemp, and all other small tithes, it was appropriated to the prior's table, and to the cellarer of the priory; but after this, in the first of April following, it was appropriated entirely to the prior's table, and the church of Hemlington in Norfolk, appropriated to him instead of this.

 

In the reign of Edward I. there belonged to the appropriated rectory, a house, with 27 acres and a rood of land, and the church was valued at 25 marks, the vicarage at 5l. Peter-pence, 12d. and the portion of Kerbrook preceptory was 3s.—The prior had also a manor, Edward I. in his 35th year granting him free warren.

 

Vicars.

 

1256, Warin de Festorton, instituted vicar, presented by the prior and convent of Norwich.

 

John occurs vicar in 1299.

 

1304, Edmund Johnes, vicar.

 

Peter de Reynham, vicar.

 

1346, William de Aldeby.

 

1353, Oliver de Wytton.

 

1355, Roger de Felthorp.

 

1357, John de Massingham.

 

1365, John de Kynneburle; in his time, Ao. 2d of Richard II. the chancel of this church was new built; the prior granted 13 oaks out of Plumsted wood, and timber also out of St. Leonard's wood; and the expenses in money were 24l. 4l. 4d.

 

1386, Edmund Martyn, vicar.

 

On the dissolution of the priory, the manor belonging to it, with the rectory, and the patronage of the vicarage, were granted to the dean and chapter of Norwich; and the vicarage is valued at 10l. per ann.

 

Mr. Henry Aldred, vicar.

 

In 1603, William Fleming, vicar, returned 296 communicants 1730.

 

1660, Edmund Wharton, (fn. 4) occurs vicar.

 

Mr. William Berney.

 

Richard Oram, by the dean and chapter of Norwich.

 

1762, Ephr. Megoe.

 

On a gravestone in the chancel,

 

Hic lapis in pannis Spicer tenet ossa Johannis Qui Quadringentesimo pius XL et iii - - - - Anno.

 

Hic jacet D'ns. Johs. Yop. quo'da' Rector. Ecclie de Boton.

 

¶Sir Robert Camownde, priest, was buried in 1482, in the chapel of St. John, of this church, and wills that all the said chapel be paved with marbyll stone, and to the gravestone of John Ovy, with his goods. (fn. 5) —Richard Watls buried in St. John Baptist's chapel 1509, and I will have a prest to sing and pray 6 years in the church except the Fryday in ev'ry week, in the chapel of St. Andrew of Worsted. Agnes Watts, his widow, buried in the said chapel, 1529, and benefactrix to the guilds of our Lady and St. Thomas, and to the repair of St. Andrew's chapel, and gives meadow land to find two lamps in the church for ever, if the King's laws will permit, otherwise to be sold and to buy cattle for that purpose.

 

Here was also St. John Baptist's guild. In the church were these arms; Gules, on a fess, argent, three flowers, azure, between three popinjays, borne by—prior of Norwich. Argent, a cross, sable, the priory arms. Calthorp and Stapleton.

 

www.british-history.ac.uk/topographical-hist-norfolk/vol1...

 

--------------------------------------------

 

As a measure of how civilised East Anglia is, it is a simple and cheap matter to explore the region by train and bicycle. There is a flat rate of nine pounds a day for unlimited travel between stations in Suffolk, Norfolk and East Cambridgeshire. You can take a bike on any train for a pound, although in reality conductors rarely charge for this service. This practice dates back to pre-privatisation days, and Anglia Railways and One Trains have continued to honour it, for which I am mightily grateful. The Suffolk and Norfolk Churches sites would not be so extensive without it.

 

I left Ipswich at twenty to eight. It was a thinly bright April morning, the sun without power beyond dazzling through the haze in the eastern sky. I was glad of my jacket, but also glad I had sun glasses with me - it was going to be a perfect day for a bike ride.

 

As the train plodded through Ipswich's monotonous northern suburbs, I examined the ordnance survey map. I flicked through Pevsner and Mortlock, as industrial units gave way to green fields, copses and the winding Gipping. Restless, I gazed out the window. A swan awoke on a lake near Needham Market, stretching itself and beating its wings into life. Crows raided a skip on rubble near the Stowmarket paint factory. Then we were really in the countryside, rushing headlong through the sleepy fields beyond Haughley and Mendelsham. Near Finningham, a large female deer cowered silently in the hedge, not ten metres from the track. A few minutes later, and a wise old hare huddled in a furrow, flat-eared, patient.

 

The train pulled into the gathering surprise of Norwich. I hauled my bike a couple of platforms over to the Sheringham line. Other people out for the day got on, including a couple dressed in vintage railway costumes. I assumed they were bound for the steam line at Sheringham. Again, the monotony of another city's suburbs petered out into agricultural business, this time in bright sunshine, and so it was that just after nine o'clock we arrived at Worstead station. I was the only person to get off. "See you later" called the conductor cheerily as I rode off of the platform into the lane, and of course he was right. There is only one train that shuttles back and forth along this line all day, and he was in charge of it.

 

I cycled from the station up into the village, a distance of about two miles. I didn't pass anyone, and here in the large village there was nobody about, just a fat cat lazily rolling in the village square. The sun was cutting the haze, the sky wide and blue. It was like being in France.

 

The church is absolutely enormous, and hemmed in a tight little graveyard. My resolution to take more distant shots went right out the window. Like Salle, and Southwold in Suffolk, St Mary was all built in one go, pretty much. This happened in the late 14th century. As at Salle, it is reflective of a large number of bequests from different people over a short period rather than anyone fabulously rich doing it on their own, and the money, of course, came from wool. Worstead is still the name of a fabric today.

 

I said it was pretty much built at one go, but there was still plenty of money about in the 15th century to raise the clerestory and install a hammerbeam roof. This seems to have been such an ambitious project that flying buttresses had to be installed on top of the aisles to hold the top of the nave up, an expedient measure that has left the building both interesting and beautiful.

 

Inside, I feared another Happisburgh, but it was gorgeous. Stepping out of the sunlight into the slight chill of a vast open space, I wandered around feasting on this stunningly lovely building.

 

As regular users of the sites will know, I don't always warm to big churches, but St Mary is so pretty inside that it is hard not to love it. This is partly helped by the removal of all pews and benches from the aisle. Those that remain in the body of the church are lovely 18th century box pews, quite out of keeping with the medieval nature of the rest of the building, but quirky and oddly delightful. The great tower arch is elegant, and is thrown into relief by the towering font cover. The ringing gallery under the tower is dated 1501, and is reminiscent of the one at Cawston. The tower screen below it takes the breath away, and you find yourself looking around to see where it could have come from. In fact, it is almost certainly a work of the Victorians, but it is pretty well perfect. The paintings in the dado are apparently copies of windows by Sir Joshua Reynolds at New College, Oxford.

 

Worstead is rightly famous for its screen, but this is more because of its height, elegance and completeness than it is its authenticity. The figures on the dado have been repainted so recklessly that it is rather hard to see who some of them were ever meant to be. As at Woolpit in Suffolk, the Victorians appear to have repainted them more with an eye to enthusiasm than accuracy. I stood there, fantasising, making up stories, until, alongside familiar figures like St Peter, St James and St Matthew, I had identified St Lassitude, the patron Saint of a quiet night in, depicted reading his book. Other Saints, identified by their symbols, include St Quirinus with his hamster, and St Obligamus with his golden pineapple. Or so it seemed to me.

 

Not much less odd are the two figures on the extreme right. The Victorians do not appear to have repainted them. The first shows a man holding three nails, and is probably St William of Norwich, more familiar from the screen at Loddon. The second shows a figure crucified, arms tied to the spans. This may be the infamous Uncumber, the bearded lady of early medieval mythology - she grew a beard to fend off unwanted suitors, although you can't help thinking there'd be a niche market for that kind of thing somewhere on the internet. Later, she was crucified, probably upside down. This figure is probably a woman, so nothing seems to fit better, although she isn't bearded as far as I could see. Situated on the extreme right, she is reflected by a crucified Christ as the Man of Sorrows on the extreme left.

 

Across the top rail, a dedicatory inscription winds, mysterious and beautiful.

 

Either side of the chancel arch and screen, the two aisle chapels are both in use, which is unusual and lovely. Both have small screens, each with just four figures. That on the north side is particularly lovely, and is where the blessed sacrament is reserved. The four figures are St Peter, St Bartholomew, St John the Baptist and St John the Divine. At least three of these are also on the rood screen, suggesting that either the images there are wholly Victorian, or these aisle screens came originally from elsewhere.

 

The south aisle chapel is simpler - it is here you enter the church through the priest door. The screen features another St Bartholomew, along with St Lawrence, St Philip and a Bishop.

 

St Mary is a building to wander around in, a place to enjoy for its great beauty rather than to interrogate for its medieval authenticity. As you turn corners, vistas open up; the view from the font to the south door, for example, or that back to the west from the chancel. All perfect, all stunning. The high church nature of the modern furnishings chimes perfectly with these architectural treats. And there are other significant medieval survivals - a fine brass of a Catholic priest, scraps of wall painting beside the chancel arch, and so on.

 

As at other churches in this benefice, the war memorial is complemented by photographs of all those commemorated. What a splendid idea, and what a labour of love. Also in common with other churches around here, St Mary has a second hand bookstall. As I explored the Worstead area, I found myself buying more and more of them, until by the time I got back to Ipswich station that evening, my rucksack was laden down with a dozen or more.

 

Simon Knott, April 2005

 

www.norfolkchurches.co.uk/worstead/worstead.htm

To the Glory of God

and in Memory of the men of East Harling

who fell in the Great War 1914-1918.

R.I.P.

 

14566 Private Herbert Earnest Alderton, 1st. Battalion, The Queen's (Royal West Surrey Regiment).

Born in 1892.

Husband of Florence C, nee Diggins of 100 Rosebery Avenue, Manor Park, London.

Herbert's civilian occupation was as a tram driver.

Herbert was admitted from the base hospital at Boulogne, France to the King George's Hospital, Lambeth, London, where he died in the presence of his wife, aged 26, from gun shot wounds to the spine on Friday 10th. May 1918. He is buried in Square 101. Grave 65202 at City of London Cemetery & Crematorium, Manor Park, Newham, East London.

 

12919 Private Fearnley Askey, 8th. Battalion, Norfolk Regiment.

Born on 31st. March 1886 In Leeds, Yorkshire, the son of Mr. W.L. and Lily Askey, later Williams, of King Street, East Harling, Norfolk.

Native of Leeds.

Fearnley was killed in action, aged 30, on Saturday 17th. February 1917. He was buried in a battlefield and later, possibly in April 1919, his remains were exhumed and reburied by a Canadian burial party in Grave: IX. B. 12. at Regina Trench Cemetery, Grandcourt, Somme, France with the personal inscription,

'DEARLY LOVED'

 

200399 Private George Zachariah Barnard, 1st/4th. Batallion, Norfolk Regiment.

Born in 1892, the son of George and Eliza Barnard of King Street., East Harling.

Brother of Harry and Horace.

George was killed in action at the Second Battle of Gaza, aged 25, on Thursday 19th. April 1917. He has no known grave and is commemorated on Panels 11 to 15 of the Jerusalem Memorial.

 

7594 Private Horace William Barnard, 1st. Battalion, Norfolk Regiment.

The son of George and Eliza Barnard of King Street., East Harling

Brother of George and Harry.

Horace died in action, aged 24, on Monday 24th. August 1914. He has no known grave and is commemorated on Stone No. 8 of the La Ferte-Sous-Jouarre Memorial, Seine-et-Marne, France.

 

75265 Private Harry Victor Barnard, 17th. Battalion, Royal Fusiliers.

The son of George and Eliza Barnard of King Street., East Harling.

Brother of George and Horace

Harry died of wounds, aged 19, on Sunday 9th. June 1918. He is buried in Grave: I. D 10. at Doullens Communal Cemetery Extension No. 2 with the personal inscription,

'HE IS GONE

BUT NOT FORGOTTEN'

 

28083 Private Edgar Davy Bateman, 13th. Battalion, Essex Regiment.

Born in 1896 at Kentish Town, London

The son of Edgar, publican of the White Hart Inn, East Harling, and Harriet Matilda Bateman, nee Davy, later of 200, Nelson Street, Norwich, Norfolk.

Brother of Edith Maud, b. 1894, St. Pancras, London, William Arthur, b. 1898, Walthamstow, London, Florence May, b. 1901, Walthamstow, London, and Dorothy Gertrude, b. 1904, East Harling.

Edgar was killed in action, aged 20, on Saturday 28th. April 1917. He has no known grave and is commemorated on Bay 7 of the Arras Memorial, Pas de Calais, France.

 

47205 Rifleman Frederick Fergus Beales, 12th. Battalion, King's Royal Rifle Corps.

Born on 6th. June 1899 at East Harling, the son of James and Alice Caroline Beales, nee Alderton of White Hart Street, East Harling.

Frederick died of pneumonia, aged 19, on Thursday 7th. November 1918. He is buried in Grave: OO. 3. at Sheerness Cemetery, Isle of Sheppey, Kent with the personal inscription,

'LOVED AND REMEMBERED'

 

14014 Private John T. Bean, 1st. Battalion, Norfolk Regiment.

Born in 1897 at Great Hautbois, Norfolk.

John was killed whilst his battalion were resting at a farm at Verbrandenmolen, opposite Hill 60 south of Ypres, on 31st. May 1915. He was buried at map reference I.34.b.3.8. His grave was identified by his damaged battlefield cross, and he was reburied in Grave: VI. D. 7. at Perth Cemetery (China Wall), Zillebeke, West-Vlaanderen, Belgium, possible in August 1919.

 

7007A Seaman George Bond Bean, Royal Naval Reserve, S.S. Cufic.

Born on 19th. January 1893 at Bradfield, near North Walsham, Norfolk, the son of Elizabeth Bean of Cheese Hill, East Harling.

The 1911 census records George employed as a farm labourer.

George died, aged 21, from war related sickness, acute double pneumonia, at East Harling on Friday 15th. November 1918. He is buried in Grave: 229 at East Harling Cemetery.

 

41426 Rifleman Arthur Henry Bloomfield, 9th. Battalion, Royal Irish Rifles.

Born in 1889, the son of William and Mary Bloomfield of East Harling.

Husband of Rosie Lottie, later Parker of 11 Newmarket Street, Brunswick Road, Norwich.

Arthur was killed in action, aged 28, on Thursday 7th. June 1917. He is buried in Grave: I. B. 10 at Lone Tree Cemetery, Spanbroekmolen, West-Vlaanderen, Belgium with the personal inscription,

'ONE OF THE BEST'

 

11339 Private William Robert Brown, 2nd. Battalion, Grenadier Guards.

The son of Mr. and Mrs. H. H. Brown of The Swan Hotel, East Harling.

William died, aged 29, between Monday 14th. September and Wednesday 16th. September 1914. He has no known grave and is commemorated on Stone No. 3 of the Le Ferte-Sous-Jouarre Memorial, Seine-et-Marne, France.

 

69567 Rifleman Harry Edward Buck, 4th. Battalion, New Zealand Rifle Brigade.

Born at Redgrave, Suffolk.

Half-brother of Mrs. A. Holmes, 114 Hall Road, Norwich, Norfolk.

Resident of East Harling in 1911.

In civilian life Harry was a farm hand.

On 2nd. March 1918 Harry embarked aboard HMNZT Tofua and arrived at Southampton on 8th. April.

Harry was killed in action at Havrincourt, France on Thursday 12th. September 1918. He was buried in a marked battlefield grave before being re buried in Grave: IV. D. 2. at Metz-en-Couture Communal Cemetery Extension, Pas de Calais, France.

 

41083 Private Oliver Bullman, 2nd. Battalion, Essex Regiment, formally 25665 Private, Norfolk Regiment.

Born on 15th. January 1889 in Soham, Cambridgeshire, the son William and Mary Ann Bullman, nee Richardson

Husband of Agnes Bullman, nee Whittingdale, of School Yard, East Harling, married In October 1912 in Suffolk.

Father of Beatrice Olive May, b. 28th. May 1910 in Nottinghamshire, and Joseph Oliver, b. 21st. May 1918.

Oliver was a bell ringer at East Harling church.

Oliver died, aged 28, on Wednesday 10th. October 1917 at Langmark, Belgium. He was buried in an unmarked grave at map reference U.19.b.5.b. He was identified by some letters and was reburied in Grave: IX. E. 19. at Cement House Cemetery, Langmark-Poelkapelle, West-Vlaanderen, Belgium with the personal inscription,

'AT REST'

From the Bury Free Press, Saturday 1st. December 1917,

'SOLDIER MISSING.

Oliver Bullman, the third son Mr. and Mrs. W. Bullman, of Ixworth, who until recent years had worked as gardener at the Abbey, and who, at the time of his enlistment in June 1916, was working as a gardener at East Harling, has now been reported missing since 9th October. He was in the trenches just before Christmas, 1916, and was soon afterwards invalided to hospital with trench feet. In the spring of the present year he was again at the front, but had to retire to have his thumb amputated. He had only been back in France two months when he was reported missing. Mr. Bullman had obtained the marksman’s badge, and was with the 2nd Essex Machine Gun Corps. He is married and sympathy is expressed for his parents, wife and children. He has two brothers serving and one in Australia.'

 

25770 Private Frederick George Elvin, 8th. Battalion, Norfolk Regiment.

Frederick was killed in action on Tuesday 22nd. May 1917. He has no known grave and is commemorated on Bay 3 of the Arras Memorial, Pas de Calais, France.

 

1369 Lance Corporal Walter Edward Endley, 1st/4th. Battalion, Norfolk Regiment.

The youngest son of William George and Florence Ada Endley of Market Place, East Harling.

Walter died, aged 22, on Friday 8th. October 1915 aboard H.M. Hospital Ship Assaye from wounds in the spine he received in action in the Dardanelles He was buried at sea and is commemorated on Panel 43 to 45 of the Helles Memorial.

 

6526 Private Derek St. Clair Everett, 'C' Company, 1st/5th. Battalion, Northumberland Fusiliers.

Born in 1896 at East Harling, the son of Mr. E. E. and Mrs. P. E. Everett of East Harling.

Derek died of wounds, aged 20, on Tuesday 31st. October 1916. He is buried in Grave: IV. B. 37. at Dernancourt Communal; Cemetery Extension, Somme, France with the personal inscription,

'ALWAYS REMEMBERED & LOVED

MOTHER & DAD'

 

20855 Private Robert James Frost, 1st. Battalion, Essex Regiment.

Robert was killed in action, aged 20,during the Second Battle of Arras on Saturday 14th. April 1917. He has no known grave and is commemorated on Bay 7 of the Arras Memorial, Pas de Calais, France.

 

43435 Private Earnest William Germany, 2nd. Battalion, Northamptonshire Regiment, formerly 1705, Norfolk Cyclists.

Born in 1891 at Roudham, Norfolk, the son of Ellis, a farm yardman, and Louisa Germany.

The 1901 census records the family living at one of the Flint Hall Cottages at East Harling.

The 1911 census records the family living at Cheese Hill, East Harling. Father Ellis is now a coal merchants cartman, and Earnest is employed as bakers assistant.

In early 1917 Ernest married Sarah Spalding.

Earnest died on Thursday 16th.August 1917. He was buried in an unmarked grave at map reference Sheet 28 N.E.J.8.a.0.2. His remains were exhumed in November 1920 and he was identified from his ID disc. He was reburied in Grave: LI. F. 8. at Tyne Cot Cemetery, West-Vlaanderen, Belgium.

 

25/762 Rifleman Charles Harry Glover, 'A' Company, 3rd. Battalion, New Zealand Rifle Brigade (The Earl of Liverpool's Own).

Born in 1891, the son of Mrs. L. Glover, later Moseley, of East Harling.

In civilian life Charles was employed as a driver.

Charles and the 3rd. Battalion, embarked from Wellington, on 15th. February 1916, aboard three ships, HMNZT 42 'Ulimaroa', HMNZT 43 'Mokoia', and HMNZT 44 'Navua'. It is not possible to determine which ship he was on. Their destination was Suez, Egypt.

On 28th. March 1917 the Chronicles of the N.Z.E.F, stated on page 66 that 'C. Glover is believed to be a prisoner of war in Germany, supposedly captured on 2nd.October 1916, although no word had yet been heard from him.'

Charles was killed in action in the front line north of Flers, aged 25, on Monday 2nd. October 1916. He has no known grave and is commemorated on Stone No. of the Caterpillar Valley (New Zealand) Memorial.

Also remembered on the Te Aroha First World War Memorial, Kenrick Street, Te Aroha. NZ.

 

139788 Private Clemence Harbour, Machine Gun Corps (Infantry), formerly 20565, Yorkshire Regiment.

Born at East Harling, the son of James and Ellen Harbour.

Husband of Susanna, later Carter.

Father of Sidney.

Enlisted at Beverley, Yorkshire.

Clemence died at home, aged 25, on Wednesday 18th. December 1918. He is buried in Grave: 20 at East Harling Cemetery.

 

1455 Private Horace Baker Howlett, 8th. Battalion, Canadian Infantry (Manitoba Regiment).

Born on 7th. April 1875 at East Harling, the son of Charles H. and Elizabeth Howlett of Albert Place, Thorpe, Norwich, Norfolk.

Resident of Muskoka, Ontario.

Horace was killed in action, aged 40, on Saturday 24th. April 1915. He has no known grave and is commemorated on Panel 24 of the Yrpes (Menin Gate) Memorial, West-Vlaanderen, Belgium.

Remembered on Page 20 of the First World War Book of Remembrance, Canadian Virtual War Memorial.

 

29467 Private Joseph John Hunt, 10th. Battalion, East Yorkshire Regiment, formally of the Army Service Corps.

Joseph died on Sunday 25th. August 1918. He is buried in Grave: V. D. 91. at Longuenesse (St. Omer) Souvenir Cemetery, Pas de Calais, France.

 

2136 Lance Corporal Stephen Aubrey Miller, 'C' Company, 1st/4th. Battalion, Norfolk Regiment.

Born in 1895 at Syleham, Suffolk, the son of Arthur and Edith Miller of East Harling.

Stephen was killed in action in Turkey, aged 20, on Monday 16th. August 1915. He has no known grave and is commemorated on Panel 43 to 45 of the Helles Memorial.

 

47699 Rifleman James Robert Osborne, 18th. Battalion, London Regiment (London Irish Rifles), attached to Royal Irish Rifles, formerly 6598, Norfolk Regiment.

Husband of Mrs. Osborne of The Green, Old Buckingham, Norfolk.

Enlisted at Norwich, Norfolk.

James died on Sunday 7th. April 1918. He is buried in Grave: II. J. 14. at Bouzincourt Communal Cemetery Extension, Somme, France.

 

116360 Private John Osborne, 11th Canadian Mounted Rifles, 7th. Battalion, Canadian Infantry (British Columbia Regiment).

Born 9th. May 1887 at East Harling, the son of Mrs. M.A. Osborne of East Harling.

Brother of Alban E. Osborne of Cheese Hill, East Harling.

In civilian life John was employed as a teamster

Enlisted at Vancouver, British Columbia.

John was killed in action, aged 28, on Saturday 10th. November 1917. He has no known grave and is commemorated on Panel 28 of the Ypres (Menin Gate) Memorial, West-Vlaanderen, Belgium.

Commemorated on Page 304 of the First World War Book of Remembrance, Canadian Virtual War Memorial.

 

200010 Company Serjeant Major Henry Robinson Pattinson, 1st/4th. Battalion, Norfolk Regiment, formally 287

Norfolk Regiment.

Henry was killed in action, aged 35, on Thursday 19th. April 1917 in the Second Battle of Gaza on Thursday 19th. April 1917. He has no known grave and is commemorated on Panels 11 to 15 of the Jerusalem Memorial.

 

19260 Private William Isaac Pinner, 9th. Battalion, Norfolk Regiment.

Born in 1885 at Larling, Norfolk, the son of James and Lucy Pinner of Little Snoring Fakenham, Norfolk.

Husband of Laura Pinner of Kenninghall Road, East Harling.

William was killed in action, aged 31, in the attack of The Quadrilateral (Ginchy) on Friday 15th September 1916. He has no known grave and is commemorated on Pier and Face 1 C and 1 D of the Thiepval Memorial, Somme, France.

 

Lt. Phillip Charles Richards, MC, MiD, 'D' Company, 9th. South African Infantry.

Born 20th. October 1883 at East Harling, the son of Phillip C, a chemist, and Christiana Richards of East Harling.

Elder brother of Reginald, below.

Husband of C. W. Richards of Kimberley.

Educated at Thetford Grammar School, Norfolk.

Residence of Barkly West in South Africa and employed with the Cape Mounted Police.

Phillip was awarded the Military Cross for his part in the fighting around Kondoa Irangi, German East Africa

Supplement to the London Gazette, 20th. October 1916,

'Lt. Philip Charles Richards, S. African Inf. For conspicuous gallantry in action. He moved constantly about among his men placing them so as best to repel the enemy's attack. By his fine example under heavy shell, rifle and machine-gun fire, he inspired confidence in his company, and the enemy's attack was repulsed.'

Phillip was Mentioned in Dispatches, page 1355, London Supplement, 8th. February 1917.

Phillip died of malaria, aged 33, on Monday 12th. February 1917. He is buried at Barkly West Cemetery, Northern Cape, South Africa.

 

20887 Private Reginald James Richards, 1st. Battalion, Essex Regiment.

The son of Phillip C, a chemist, and Christiana Richards of East Harling.

Younger brother of Phillip, above.

Reginald was killed in action, aged 30, in the attack of Hilt Trench and Grease Trench on Thursday 12th. October 1916. He is buried in Grave: II. D. 57. at Dartmoor Cemetery, Becordel-Brcourt, Somme, France.

 

29053 Private Herbert Secker, 'A' Company, 2nd. Battalion, Bedfordshire Regiment.

The son of Henry Secker of Gallants Lane, East Harling.

Herbert was killed in action, aged 22, in the unsuccessful attack on Gird Trench near Eaucourt l'Abbaye in the Battle of the Somme on Thursday 12th. October 1916. He has no known grave and is commemorated on Pier and Face 2 C of the Thiepval Memorial, Somme, France.

 

18760 Private John Shaw, 2nd. Battalion, Norfolk Regiment.

John was killed in action, aged 37, on Saturday 22nd. April 1916. He has no known grave and is commemorated on Panel 10 of the Basra Memorial, Basra, Iraq.

 

7130 Serjeant Herbert James Smith MM, MiD, 1st. Battalion, Norfolk Regiment.

The son of Mrs. S. Graham of Fen Lane, East Harling

Herbert was killed in action, aged 27, in the Longueval area during the Battle of the Somme on Thursday 27th. July 1916. He has no known grave and is commemorated on Pier and Face 1 C and 1 D of the Thiepval Memorial, Somme, France.

 

39062 Private Thomas Smith, 2nd. Battalion, The Loyal North Lancashire Regiment.

The son of Samuel and Emma Jane Smith of Flint Cottage, East Harling.

Thomas was killed in action, aged 40, on Thursday 1st. August 1918. He was buried in a marked grave at Soissons and in late 1919 his remains were exhumed and reburied in Grave: IX. C. 10. at Raperie British Cemetery, Villemontoire, Aisne, France with the personal inscription,

'THY WILL BE DONE'

 

19752 Private Sidney Barnard Sparkes, 4th. Battalion, Grenadier Guards.

Born in 1891, the son of Edward and Rosa Annie Sparkes, later Coldham, of Yew Tree Cottage, East Harling.

Sidney died of wounds, aged 25, received in the Battle of the Somme on Monday 9th. October 1916. He is buried in Grave: XVI. E. 6A. at Etaples Military Cemetery, Pas de Calais, France with the personal inscription,

'GREATER LOVE

HATH NO MAN THAN THIS'

 

36188 Private George Thomas Tyler, 10th. Battalion, South Wales Borderers.

Born at St. Pancras, London.

Resident of East Harling.

George died, aged 22, on Wednesday 18th. September 1918. He was buried at map reference 57c.W.3.b.2.1. and was later reburied in Grave: I. E. 14. at Gouzeaucourt New British Cemetery, Nord, France.

 

G/25131 Private John Huggins Tyler, 8th. Battalion, The Queen's (Royal West Surrey Regiment).

Born in North Lopham, Norfolk.

Resident of East Harling.

John was killed in action, aged 19, on Thursday 21st. March 1918. He has no known grave and is commemorated on Panel 14 and 15 of the Pozieres Memorial, Somme, France.

 

*Not remember on the memorial*

 

R/362 Able Seaman Charles Ashford, Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve, Hawke Battalion, R.N. Division.

Born on 31st. July 1887 at Cretingham, Earl Soham, Suffolk, the son of Charles and Harriet Ashford.

In 1881 his family were living at Mauldens Corner, Earl Soham. In 1891 his family lived at 14 Brandeston Road, Earl Soham, and by 1901 at Manor Farm, Gisleham, Suffolk. Later his parents lived at Blo Norton, Norfolk, before his father became the publican at the Trowel and Hammer in East Harling.

By 1908 Charles was living at Carlton Colville, Suffolk. On 26th. December 1908 he married Annie Elizabeth Peek at All Saints’ Church, Narborough, Norfolk. Charles was a labourer, living at Carlton Colville, and Annie lived at Narborough. The 1911 Census shows Charles living at Low Farm, Carlton Colville, and working as a milk cart driver. The census shows him as being married, but Annie has not been traced in the 1911 census, nor in any subsequent record.

Charles was working as a labourer, and living at Whitton Green, Lowestoft, Suffolk when he enlisted for the Army on 2nd. March 1916. He was placed on the Army Reserve and was called up for service on 17th. October 1916. Instead of joining the Army he was enrolled in the Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve. On 18th. October 1916 he joined the 4th. Reserve Battalion, Royal Naval Division, at Blandford. On 2nd. January 1917 he was rated Able Seaman and drafted to Nelson Battalion in France. On 4th. October 1917 Charles disobeyed orders about putting packs on limbers without permission and was punished by being deprived of three days pay. He was granted leave to Britain from 22nd. January to 5th. February 1918.

Charles was posted to the 7th. Entrenching Battalion on 22nd. February 1918. By mid-February 1918 the Royal Naval Division moved to positions on Flesquieres Ridge. Charles returned to the Royal Naval Division on 14th. March 1918 and was posted from Nelson to Hawke Battalion, joining his new battalion on 15th. March. Charles was one of 209 men who joined Hawke Battalion from service with the 7th. Entrenching Battalion. The strength of the battalion, at this time, was 17 officers and 612 men.

From 4.45 a.m. to 5.45 a.m. on 21st. March 1918 the enemy put down a heavy barrage on the front and support lines, with gas-shells falling in the area of the Battalion headquarters. The Germans succeeded in entering the front line and took posts held by 'C' Company in Nigger Trench and Premy Support Trench. The front line was reorganised along Beet Trench and Kaiser Trench, with blocks formed in Nigger, Premy Switch and Premy Avenue trenches. A 3 p.m. a company was sent from Drake Battalion to reinforce the Hawke Battalion and took up positions in Kaiser Support trench. By 8.30 p.m. Hawke Battalion had been relieved by Drake Battalion.

Charles was killed in action, aged 38, on 21st. March 1918. He has no known grave and is commemorated on Bay 1 of the Arras Memorial, Pas de Calais, France.

 

25741 Lance Corporal Frank Shaw, 7th. Battalion, Somerset Light Infantry.

Born at Roudham, Norfolk.

Husband of E. A. Shaw of The Shrubbery, East Harling.

Frank died, aged 32, on Friday 30th. March 1917. He was buried in a marked grave at map reference P10.C.8.1. and was later reburied in Grave: F. 21 at Beaumetz Cross Roads Cemetery, Beaumetz-les-Cambrai, Pas de Calais, France.

 

1939 - 1945

 

1570377 Private Russel C. Barnard, 5th. Battalion, Sherwood Foresters (Notts and Derby Regiment).

Born in December 1913 at East Harling, the son of William Sapey and Alice Mary Barnard, nee Brundle.

Husband of Gladys May Barnard, nee Biggins of Romanby, Northallerton, North Yorkshire. Married in 1941.

Russel died, aged 30, on Monday 4th. September 1944. He is buried in Grave: IV. E. 2. at Montecchio War Cemetery, Marche, Italy with the personal inscription,

'REST IN PEACE,

FOR IN THE NEAR FUTURE

WE SHALL MEET AGAIN

NEVERMORE TO PART'

 

1808691 Gunner Derek Jim Bloomfield, 74 Heave Anti-aircraft Regiment, Royal Artillery.

The son of Samuel George and Ella Bloomfield of Thetford, Norfolk.

Derek died as the result of an accident, aged 23, on Sunday 5th. November 1944 and was buried at position 22/GRU/LH/2176/3. Identified by a label, he was reburied on 27th. June 1945 in Grave: IV. H. 6. at Florence War Cemetery, Italy with the personal inscription,

'LOVED, MISSED

REMEMBERED ALWAYS

TILL WE MEET AGAIN DEAR SON'

 

5776171 Private John Cross, 6th. Battalion, Royal Norfolk Regiment.

The son of Henry John and Gertrude Emma Cross of East Harling.

John died, aged 25, as a prisoner of war of the Japanese on Thursday 21st. September 1944. He has no known grave and is commemorated on Column 50 of the Singapore Memorial, Kranji War Cemetery, Singapore.

 

1239880 Aircraftman 2nd. Class Kenneth Earnest Frost, Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve, 2795 Squadron, RAF Regiment.

Born on 6th. April 1922 at East Harling, the eldest son of Ernest and Lily May Frost, nee Randell.

At the time of his call up, Kenneth lived with his parents, sister Enid and younger brother Alan ‘Pop’ in the White Hart pub, East Harling.

After call up Kenneth was posted to RAF Bobbington, then later to Kirby.

On 30th. November 1941 he boarded the ship Andes for Singapore, arriving on 4th. February. He left Singapore on 8th. February for Java where he was attached to the Dutch Army to help defend the island. When the Dutch surrendered Kenneth was captured at Garute on 8th. March. After being in four camps on Java, on 24th. April he was shipped to Ambon on Amboina Island, a journey that lasted 6 days.

On 2nd. May, Ken was marched across the island to Liang POW camp. Once there the task was to build an airfield on Liang Beach. Eventually the airfield was abandoned and Ken was moved with other POW's to Ambon Bay area. On 9th. September Ken left Ambon on the Kaishun Maru, a small wooden boat with 150 POW's on board. On 15th. September the boat developed engine trouble and the men went to a camp on Muna Island. On 20th. September, Ken boarded the ship Kaishun Maru which was strafed, set on fire and sunk not far from shore. The POW's returned to Muna before embarking on Maros Maru, which would be marooned, with 634 POW's aboard, off Makassa for 40 days due to engine trouble. Many men died, and 159 were buried at sea in Makassa harbour.

Kenneth died, aged 22, on 22nd. October 1944. He was buried at sea with a sand bag tied to his legs to sink the body in position 05 degrees/04 mins S, 119 degrees 19 mins E. He is commemorated on Column 442 of the Singapore Memorial, Kranji War Cemetery, Singapore.

 

Acting Sub-Lieutenant Barry Pawlet Grigson, 825 Squadron Fleet Air Arm, HMS Kestrel, Royal Navy.

Born on 19th. May 1940, in Maymyo, Mandalay, Burma, the only son of Capt. Pawlet St. John Baseley Grigson and Kathleen Monica Grigson, nee Bagnall, of East Harling Hall, Norfolk.

On the night of 1st./2nd July 1940, 12 Fairey Swordfish of 825 Squadron FAA, 6 Fairey Swordfish of 812 Squadron FAA, and 5 Fairey Albacore of 826 Squadron FAA, were tasked with attacking a concentration of barges on the River Meuse, east of Rotterdam in Holland, which the Germans had seized to use as landing vessels for their invasion of Britain.

Operating out of RAF Detling in Kent, Barry was piloting Swordfish Mk.1, serial number L7646, coded 5B, with 23 year old Acting Sub-Lt Frederick Leonard Lees as air gunner/observer. L7646 was hit by anti-aircraft fire and quickly lost altitude. According to a Dutch account the Swordfish flew in the direction of Kerkdijk and the crew bailed out, however there was insufficient height for the parachutes to open and both died in the polder Langeplaat.

The unmanned Swordfish hit the Kerkdijk flood wall and the Bristol Pegasus engine brook free. The fuselage destroyed telephone and electricity wires before carrying on for a further 100 m and burning out completely on the land of Adam Barendregt in the polder Zuid-Blankenburg

Barry and Frederick were buried in one grave at the crash site. They were exhumed on 9th. and 10th. July 1940 and were buried with military honours in the General Cemetery Cemetery at Rozenburg with a simple wooden cross with the wording 'Hier ruhen 2 Engl. pilots, 2-7-40' (Here rest 2 Engl. pilots, 2-7-40).

Barry was killed in action, aged 20, on Tuesday 2nd. July 1940. He is buried with Kenneth and two other airmen, one FAA, the other RAF, in Collective Grave: 10 at Rozenburg General Cemetery, Holland. His Commonwealth War Graves Commission headstone bears the personal inscription,

'ONLY SON

OF PAWLET & KATHLEEN GRIGSON

OF EAST HARLING HALL, NORFOLK'

 

1358194 Leading Aircraftman Charles William Hall, Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve.

The son of Elizabeth Hall of Kentish Town, London.

Charles died on Saturday 3rd. January 1942. He is buried at Screen Wall, Section. R, Grave 4702 at City of London and Tower Hamlets Cemetery.

*Note, this person is unconfirmed as the man on the memorial.

 

912844 Sergeant Cyril Walter Kerridge, Pilot, Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve, 13 OTU, RAF.

The son of Walter William John and Lily Julia Kerridge of East Harling.

On Wednesday 16th. April 1941, Cyril took off from RAF Bicester in Oxfordshire with 746999 Sgt. Geoffrey Ernest Cook and Sgt. 747741 Peter James Cross in Bristol Blenheim Mk. IV, serial number V5881 for a night navigation training exercise. Crashed, It was reported that the Blenheim crashed into the Irish Sea between Rhyll and the Isle of Man due to engine failure, killing the crew.

Cyril died, aged 28. He has no known grave and is commemorated on Panel 46 of the Runnymede Memorial, Surrey.

 

Walter F. Lake.

No information about this man, other than he is probably the son of Arthur H. and Hannah Lake.

 

5769804 Corporal William George Osborne, 4th. Battalion, Royal Norfolk Regiment.

William died as a prisoner of war of the Japanese, aged 40, on Wednesday 12th. April 1944. He is buried in Grave: 1. B. 9. at Chungkai War Cemetery, Thailand.

*Note, this person is unconfirmed as the man on the memorial.

 

John Shinfield, London Heavy Rescue Service

The son of Mr. Shinfield of East Harling.

John was a member of the civilian London Heavy Rescue Service. The Service came into being as part of the Civil Defence programme and was made up of builders, plumbers, electricians and skilled workers who helped clear up the debris created by German air raids. They helped stabilise devastated area to allow the Light Rescue Service safe access to trapped civilians.

John and his unit were attending Baldwin's Gardens in Camden, where St. Alban's Building, a five storey building, housing civilians, had been hit and there were a number of people trapped beneath the rubble. As work continued to make the site safe, an undetected bomb went off among the ruins, killing the rescue crew.

John died, aged 32, on Wednesday 16th. October 1940. He is buried in the Borough of Holborn, London.

 

5772734 Private Harold Arthur Walker, 4th. Battalion, Royal Norfolk Regiment.

Born in 1908 the son of Albert and Ellen Walker, of East Harling.

Harold died whilst in training, aged 31, on Thursday 7th. September 1939. He is buried in Grave: 620 at East Harling Cemetery with the personal inscription,

'IN LOVING MEMORY

OF THE ONLY SON'

 

Edward C. Wix.

No information about this man.

 

R.I.P.

   

Marvel Collectors' Item Classics / Heft-Reihe

It Started on Yancy Street

cover: Jack Kirby, Chic Stone

Marvel Comics Group / USA 1969

ex libris MTP

www.comics.org/issue/22791/