Mediaeval paintings on a wall in a church in Kent

ON OUR WAY to visiting friends, who live in Tonbridge (Kent), we stopped to look at the Church of St Thomas à Becket in the village of Capel. The saint lived from c1120 until his murder in 1170. An old tree in the churchyard at Capel is fenced off and alongside it, there is a label that informs the reader that the saint was:

“… supposed to have preached beneath this lovely old yew tree.”

Given that it is now the year 2025, the very latest that he could have preached beneath this tree would have been 855 years ago. As some yew trees can remain alive for several thousand years (https://fortingall-graveyard.org.uk/yew-tree), it is quite possible that the venerable yew at Capel was around when St Thomas à Becket was active.

The interior of the church offers visitors a wonderful surprise. The north wall of the church has many sizeable fragments of wall paintings that were uncovered in 1927. They had been covered with whitewash (paint) during the Reformation (sixteenth century) during which church decorations were largely removed, destroyed, or hidden. Experts believe that these paintings were executed in two periods: in about 1200 and then about 50 years later. The subject matter of these wall paintings was religious, designed to convey bible stories to those parishioners who could not read, and who did not understand Latin, then the language used during church services.

Amongst many other fascinating things in this small church, the communion rail caught my attention. Carved in the seventeenth century, it bears the date 1682 and the name “Michael Davis”. According to an informative leaflet in the church, in the 1630s Archbishop Laud (1573-1645) recommended installing such rails to prevent dogs from entering and defiling the sanctuary that contains the high altar. The simple stone altar was made in 1979 to replace a seventeenth century communion table that had been stolen. Like mediaeval stone altars, the modern one at Capel is inscribed with five crosses, which symbolise the five wounds made in the crucified Christ.

Although still consecrated, the church is not used often. It is now cared for by The Churches Conservation Trust and left open during the day for visitors to enter. For those interested in seeing mediaeval wall paintings in Kent, apart from at Capel there are fine examples at: Chiddingstone, Newington-next-Sittingbourne, Stone, and Barfreston.

Praying with pebbles instead of candles

In most churches, one can light candles when saying prayers.

At St Winnow in Cornwall, we noticed something quite different. A bowl filled with water was standing on a table next to a bowl filled with pebbles. Those wishing to make a prayer, are invited to take one of the stones and place it into the water, instead of lighting a candle. We were told by someone working in the church that the stone dropping is a Celtic Christian tradition. I have since read that it might also have been a pagan tradition.

Baptising children since the time of the Normans

THE PARISH CHURCH at Luxulyan in Cornwall, which is dedicated to St Ciricius and St Julitta, is very attractive. Although it was built in the 15th century, it contains a stone baptismal font that was created long before the church was constructed. It is a Norman stone font designed like that in St Petroc’s Church in Bodmin (Cornwall). It consists of a circular bowl with carved outer sides on a central shaft, with 4 outer shafts each surmounted by a carved head. It stands on a granite plinth. 

The font in Luxulyan is in a good state of preservation. The carved faces on it have a simplicity of design that made me think of early Greek Cycladic sculpture as well as mid-20th century ‘modern art’. Sculpted before the era of gothic art, these faces are curiously alluring. It is amazing to think that this beautiful item has been in use for about 1000 years.

A man from Bohemia remembered in a church in Cornwall

QUETHIOCK IS A tiny village in Cornwall. It has a church, St Hugh, that contains many interesting features.

One small thing that fascinated me was a small brass plate attached to a wooden table. It commemorates Dr Erich Schneider of Aussig (Usti na Labem) in Bohemia, who was born in 1889, and perished in the Auschwitz concentration camp in 1944. His wife, Marketa, was interned in the Terezin concentration camp, but survived. She moved to England after WW2. The Schneiders had a son, Johann, who was born in 1921. He was educated in England. At school or college, he became friendly with Reverend Lintell’s children, and spent holidays with them in Quethiock. Later, Johann became an economist at the Treasury, and between 1987 and 2005, he was an assistant pastor at St Anne’s Lutheran Church in London.

It was a great surprise finding this memorial to a victim of the Holocaust in sucharemotepart of Cornwall.

Twisted on top of a church in Shropshire

CLEOBURY MORTIMER IS a small town in Shropshire, near to Clee Hill. I could not help noticing that a peculiar church steeple dominates its skyline.

The spire is that of the church of St Mary the Virgin. What makes it distinctive is that it is twisted.

The shingle covered steeple has a timber skeleton that was constructed in the 13th century. Over the centuries, the timbers became damaged by damp, and the spire began to tilt towards the southwest. Furthermore, warping of the woodwork caused it to become twisted. So, the spire not only leans away from being perpendicular but also twists. Fortunately, restorations carried out in 1993 will probably prevent this ancient spire from further deformation.

One church two parishes and two denominations

ST CLEMENT’S CHURCH in central Cambridge began being constructed in the 13th century. It was modified in later centuries. While many Anglican churches contain one or two Orthodox-style icons, St Clement’s has many of these, including a large one depicting the Mother and Child, flanked by typical Orthodox style, sand-filled candle holders. In addition, there are several large reproductions of frescos of portraits of Orthodox saints including St Clement. Apart from the Orthodox Church features within the building, there are furnishings that one would expect to find in any Anglican church.

The reason that the Orthodox ‘fittings’ fill the church is that St Clemnt’s doubles up as a church for an Anglican congregation and also for a local Russian Orthodox congregation, the members of the Parish of St Ephraim the Syrian, which is an English-speaking Russian Orthodox parish of the Diocese of Sourozh. In the Orthodox church, a screen called the ‘iconostasis’ and usually covered with religious paintings separated the clergy from the congregation. St Clement’s contains an iconostasis, which is retractable. During Orthodox masses, the hinged screen can be unfolded to hide the chancel from the rest of the church. When the Orthodox congregation are not using the church, it is folded away, and can hardly be seen from the nave. I had never seen a retractable iconostasis until I first entered St Clement’s (in August 2025).

One other noteworthy feature in the church is a mural on the east wall above the (Anglican) high altar. It was painted in 1872 by Frederick Richard Leach (1837–1904), who was born in Cambridge and later worked with the designer and social activist William Morris (1834-1896).

I have visited Cambridge numerous times and often passed St Clement’s, but it was only in August 2025 that I first stepped inside. I am glad I did because although it is a fine mediaeval church, its use by two Christian denominations and, in particular, its folding iconostasis makes it especially interesting.

A church left abandoned in a field in Oxfordshire

NOT FAR FROM Henley-on-Thames, lies the village of Bix. Its name might derive from either the Anglo-Saxon word for box, an evergreen shrub, or from a word, ‘behaeson’ meaning ‘to vow’. By 1085, when the Domesday Book was compiled, Bix was divided into two nearby settlements, each of which had its own church. One of these has disappeared, and the other, St James, is now in ruins.

Still consecrated but in a dilapidated state, St James is now known as Bix Old Church. Very little is known about the early history of this ruined church. It was in existence by 1274, when it and the other church were so poor that they had to share a vicar. In the late 1700s, the walls of St James began to collapse. So, brick buttresses were constructed to prevent further damage. These buttresses are still standing, but they failed to halt the collapse of the church. In 1874, the church was deemed unusable, and a new church, the present St James, was built.

We visited the new church, arriving just in time to meet someone who was about to unlock it. Constructed in 1874, it is a Victorian gothic edifice. Inside, the church is built with bricks of differing colours arranged in layers to produce an eye-catching appearance. What makes this church fascinating is that it contains various things that were rescued from Bix Old Church: the font; two fragments of Flemish stained glass dating from 1530; and the carved stone bowl of the piscina. These valuable remains were moved from the old church to the newer one in 1875.

Bix Old Church is reached by a long country lane that is only wide enough for one car. It and the church are in surprisingly a rural environment, considering how close it is to places like Henley, Reading and High Wycombe. We visited the church mainly because when I passed a sign for Bix, which I thought was a strange name, I looked it up on the Internet later while enjoying a picnic, and found out about the existence of the ruined church. Once again, a short visit into the English countryside has resulted in an unexpected, fascinating discovery.

Yet another visit to a church in Hampstead (north London)

THE PARISH CHURCH OF St John stands at the western end of Hampstead’s elegant Church Row. We have visited it often, and each time we notice things we had not observed on previous visits. During our most recent one (in May 2025), we spotted two things that we had not been aware of previously. One is a small detail, and the other is glaringly obvious now that we have thought about it.

The small detail relates to the font that stands close to the main entrance to the church. It incorporates the bowl of the font that was originally constructed in 1745. The stem that supported it is elsewhere in the church. The font is covered by a wooden lid inlaid with religious images. On top of this cover there is a statue of st John the Baptist standing within a cast-iron frame. What we had not noticed before is that there is a lifting mechanism for raising the lid. This consists of a chain, which is attached to the top of the frame, and then runs over some pulleys, At the other end of the chain there is a heavy looking weight, presumably added to make it easier to raise the heavy cover.

The glaringly obvious thing about this church, which it has taken us years to notice, is that the chancel (containing the high altar) is at the west end of the church. This is unusual because in most churches, the chancel is at the east end. When we were in Pondicherry (in Southern India) in January 2025, we visited two of its churches. Both of them have, as does St John, their chancels at their west ends.

I was brought up near Hampstead, and from my childhood onwards, I have visited this charming hilltop place innumerable times, each time discovering something I had not noticed before. In January 2022, I published a book about Hampstead  (which is available from Amazon sites such as https://www.amazon.co.uk/BENEATH-WIDE-SKY-HAMPSTEAD-ENVIRONS/dp/B09R2WRK92).

A cafe in a church in London designed by Christopher Wren

in London

ST NICHOLAS COLE Abbey is a church a few yards southeast of London’s St Paul’s Cathedral. Like the cathedral, St Nick’s (as it is affectionately known) was designed by Sir Christopher Wren and built between 1672 and 1678. The earlier church on this site had been destroyed during the Great Fire of London in 1666. It was the first of the 51 churches lost in the Fire to have been rebuilt. In 1941, it was severely damaged during a German air raid. It remained a shell until it was repaired and reconsecrated in 1962. Sadly, the windows designed by the pre-Raphaelite artist Edward Burne-Jones were destroyed in the air raid. They have been replaced by three attractive windows, which reminded me of the work of Chagall, designed by Keith New (1925-2012).

When we entered the church today (28 April 2025), we found that the floor of its spacious interior was occupied by tables and chairs and along its south side, there was a counter where hot and cold drinks as well as snacks were being served. Most of the tables and chairs were occupied. Some people were enjoying refreshments, others were working with their laptop computers, and yet others were chatting quietly. There are also tables and chairs on the terrace outside the south side of the church. Although the church serves as a café on weekdays, during weekends and on some other days, services are held.

The café has been in existence for about 10 years. Although we have passed the church innumerable times, it was only today that we first ventured inside it. So near to St Pauls and all the eateries catering to tourists visiting it, this church-cum-café seems to be well off the tourists’ beaten track, but well-known to local office workers.

A church with injuries in a village in Cambridgeshire

WE OFTEN VISIT the excellent Pig and Abbot pub in the tiny village of Abington Piggots in south Cambridgeshire because it has good food and a homely atmosphere. Near the pub stands the parish church of St Michael and All Angels, parts of whose structure date to the twelfth century. It contains many interesting features including a seventeenth century pulpit combined with a reading desk and a clerk’s desk. This is made from timber panelling including some carvings and is probably Flemish in origin. Fascinating as this is, there are two unusual features, which were pointed out to us by a church volunteer when we visited the church in April 2025.

The north door of the nave, which faces the entrance on the south side of the church, has two small squarish holes in it. And if you look carefully at the stone archway that marks the boundary between the nave and the chancel, you can see that a small chunk of masonry is missing. The holes in the door were most likely caused by the sharp tip of a spear or of a pikestaff. The missing chunk of masonry is most likely the result of musket shot having been fired at the archway. It is believed that the damage to the door and the archway was done in the time of Oliver Cromwell, when he had ordered the removal of decorative features from churches, Interestingly, a few panes of mediaeval stained glass remain intact high up in a window in the north wall of the nave. Clearly, Cromwell’s men missed these while they were destroying the rest of the stained glass.

The damage to the church reminded me of our recent trip to Beverley in Yorkshire when we were shown damaged caused by a bullet fired from a Luftwaffe aeroplane during WW2. (see https://adam-yamey-writes.com/2025/04/06/pierced-by-a-bullet-while-praying-in-the-pews/). Clearly nothing is sacred, not even in a church.