Tag Archives: effigy

The granddaughter of a famous author in a church in Oxfordshire

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ONE WRITER WHOM I had to study for a state examination in English literature in 1968 was Geoffrey Chaucer (c1343-1400). Although I struggled to make sense of his “Prologue” to the Canterbury Tales, I enjoyed doing so. Since then, I have hardly ever thought about Chaucer. This changed when we made our third visit to the attractive village of Ewelme in Oxfordshire. During this visit, the parish church (St Mary) was open, and we were able to enter. Inside, we met a churchwarden, who was getting the place ready for a funeral service. He pointed out a very elaborate tomb that separates the chancel from the Chapel of St John the Baptist, which occupies the southeast corner of the church. I could hardly believe my ears when he told me whose remains are buried beneath this tomb.

The tomb, which bears the carved stone effigy of a woman, and beneath it, a stone carving depicting her after death, is that of Alice, the Duchess of Suffolk (1404-1475). She had been married first to the Earl of Salisbury, who died in 1428. Her second husband was William de la Pole (1396-1450), 4th Earl and first Duke of Suffolk. Fascinating though this is, what really interested me was that her paternal grandfather was none other than Geoffrey Chaucer, whose writing I studied many years ago. Near to Alice’s tomb, there is a less elaborate tomb containing the remains of her parents, Thomas Chaucer and Maud (née Burghersh).

Once again, visiting places in the English countryside has led us to making an exciting discovery.

Asleep in his armour

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ENGLISH PARISH CHURCHES are full of surprises. The church of St Mary the Virgin in the Essex village of Hatfield Broad Oak (once known as ‘Hatfield Regis’) is no exception. Its nave is a surviving remnant of a Benedictine priory founded in 1135 by Alberic De Vere (c1085-1141) The highlight of this church is a recumbent stone effigy of Alberic’s grandson, Robert de Vere, 3rd Earl of Oxford (c1155-1221), who was born in Hatfield Broad Oak. He was one of the barons who forced King John into signing the Magna Carta at Runnymede in 1215. The effigy was placed in the church either by his son or his grandson. It lies on the floor of the chancel in front of the nave and close to the high altar. Whereas in many churches, there is an unobstructed view of the altar (or a rood screen) from the western end of a church, Robert’s effigy sticks out like a sore thumb when you are looking along the length of the nave

The effigy, which is in remarkably good condition given its age, depicts Robert lying with his legs crossed. His right hand clutches a sword and there is a shield attached to his left arm. His left foot rests on something that is not easily identifiable as it has been damaged. What is most remarkable about this funerary sculpture is that Robert is almost entirely clad in chain mail. Part of his face peers through a circular gap in the armoured head dress. The carver of this monument took great pains to show the chain mail in fine detail. For me, this is what makes the effigy quite wonderful.

Fascinating as is the effigy, Robert’s family interested me because of its connection with Kensington in London. Robert’s great grandfather Alberic (or Aubrey) De Vere (1040-1112) was a tenant-in-chief of William the Conqueror. The Domesday Book records that he was a great landowner with properties in nine counties. One of these was the manor of Kensington in the County of Middlesex. His name is remembered today in the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea by the street name Aubrey Walk, which leads to Aubrey House, currently a private residence.

The day before we visited Hatfield Broad Oak, we were in Coggeshall (Essex), where I spotted a memorial to a protestant martyr, Thomas Hawkes (see: https://adam-yamey-writes.com/2022/06/26/burnt-rather-than-baptised/), who had worked for the De Vere family. Had Hatfield Broad Oak not been such a pretty village, I doubt that we would have stopped there. That would have been a pity because then we would have missed seeing the chain mail clad effigy and its interesting connection with a part of west London, with which I am quite familiar.

The Old year in flames

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The ending of the old year and beginning of the new one is celebrated all over the world in a variety of ways and at different times of the modern calendar. For example, the Chinese, the Gujaratis, the Parsis, the Jewish people, and the Russian Orthodox all celebrate the start of a new year on different dates. People, whatever their personal beliefs, also celebrate the end of the year on the 31st of December.

Cochin, which is a historic port in the southern Indian state of Kerala, was a Portuguese colony for a while in the 16th and 17th centuries. The Papaanji (spelling varies!) is named after a Portuguese word meaning ‘old man’.

Every year, a giant Papaanji is erected in a centrally located open space in historic Fort Cochin. During the afternoon of New Year’s Eve, the Papaanji is stuffed full of dry straw and fireworks. The roads around the open space are closed to motorised traffic. Despite this, a few youths on motor bikes manage to enter illegally.

After sunset and during the evening of the 31st of December, the area around the Papaanji fills with vendors and ever increasing numbers of people. Some of these merrymakers wear masks and others wear glowing red devil’s horns.

During the few minutes before midnight on the 31st, unbelievable numbers of people gather. The strong tide of people resembles a powerful surge of water such as you might expect if a large dam has just been breached. The crowd adds much noise to the cacophony of sound being relayed over various loudspeakers. Several times, I was almost knocked over by this human tsunami.

At midnight, the crowd became even noisier when flames began leaping from the ignited Papaanji. First, I could only see billowing clouds of smoke. Soon, frightening flames became visible. Then, bursts of stars appeared as the fireworks exploded.

Within minutes, the conflagration and fireworks ended. The old year, represented by the Papaanji, had been burnt out to make way for the new one. The crowds began to thin out a little, but despite that, it was quite hazardous trying to leave the area.

For an hour or two after midnight, boisterous revellers created much noise in the streets. The whole affair seemed to be generally good natured.

I am glad that I have seen the Papaanji aflame, but once in a lifetime is enough for me.