Cold Aston, Gloucestershire

We don't often meet people at the churches on our travels, and when we do they're generally welcoming and either we exchange pleasantries or have a little chat about our shared interest in the building. As we stood drawing in the porch at Cold Aston, though, a long trail of tinies from the adjacent school trooped into the church and took their places in the pews. I shouldn't mind this, should I. It's an example of the church Actually Being Used. But I didn't like it. Now I can't say I know much about children, but I do know that I was once one of them. And when I was five I had a soft, receptive, gently forming brain. I seem to remember I liked filling it with dinosaurs and trips to the swings.

It's not that I don't think that children should get a education in Behaving Nicely to their Fellow Man. Of course a bit of moral guidance is the way to encourage a nice society where we all help each other and think about others. But I just thought it was very odd that they were shuffled into the church, as though talking about being helpful or kind or whatever it was, couldn't be done in an ordinary setting. As though by going in the church, God would be watching. The teacher (she was wearing a football strip, bizarrely) seemed to switch between that patronising slow sing-song voice some people use with small children, and then swooping on individuals to berate them for their fidgiting or previous misdemeanours. I thought the whole thing was rather creepy, it didn't sit well with me.

I don't know what I'm trying to say really. But it didn't seem quite right to be moulding such small children's minds using the building in that way. It wasn't the same as going there of a Sunday with one's parents to listen to the vicar.

Anyway. There were some interesting bits of carving at Cold Aston. The tympanum was an all-over repetitive pattern (I admit photoshop has helped me with the above depiction) with some rather familiar style weaving foliage underneath. This was very well preserved and rather nice.

Also there seeemed to be a bit of knotwork in the porch - one assumes Anglo Saxon. You can see the collection of bits and pieces here on Britain Express. I always like to see a bit of Saxon knotwork, and because they're quite a challenge to draw, they're always especially satisfying to have a go at. Various descriptions on the internet mention "entwined serpents" but I fear this is overly optimistic. B and I have seen quite a few serpenty examples and this one wasn't doing it for us. But we both felt that there might be little clasped hands - as we independently came to this conclusion I set some store by it.

There was also a Maperton-esque little head, which B drew.

Bathford, North-East Somerset

I didn't write down anything for Bathford when I originally went through the Pevsner for this area, but I recently found a Lead. The Bathford Society says when the church was rebuilt in the 1870s, the 'effigy of a bishop' was found. In my fevered mind I managed to spin this into the rediscovery by two Romanesque fanatics of a Norman carving similar to the Mary and Jesus one in Langridge. It didn't turn out quite like that. But we did find Bathford church packed with interesting things. So much for my Pevsnering.

The main doorway was evidently, typically, Romanesque. It's got a nice thick band of projecting chevrons, and these surrounded by some bobbles ('pellets') and a bit of saw-tooth ornament round the outside. Also our favourite feature, the non-matching column capitals. I always feel reassured we're onto the real deal when there's non-matching capitals.

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And the capitals are quite different to each other.

The left hand one is crisp and geometric. It's so unworn by time. It's rather sharp and exuberant. The right hand one is chaotic and wandering, it's organic like a load of liverwort lobes growing over the surface. Such a contrast.

Inside, the font is quite near the door (traditional spot for fonts, so they say). It's octagonal, which made us think it must be quite late. But I can believe it's still Romanesque, because of the solidness of the 'stalk' and the interestingness of the scallopy/trumpety arrangement. I think the pattern just changes alternately round the sides, but the combining of the low scallopybits and the high scallopybits gives an impression of randomness and instability. But really I think it's quite logical and mathematical. I rather like it.

Meanwhile, a carved head slumbered peacefully over by the windows.

In retrospect this is our favourite discovery at the church. It had such an excellent expression. I can't tell if a lot of that is coming from my brain's propensity to interpret detail out of the little dints and scrapes that weren't really part of the carver's intentions. I couldn't even tell you if the eyes are staring straight out or (as my brain sees it) closed and snoozing, with eyebrows above. But I liked it. It had that something about it.


Some anciently typed guff accompanied the carving. It said it "was found at some depth in the forecourt of the Crown Inn in 1933, probably having belonged to the collection of the late Mr Lavington, and having accidentally fallen into an excavation when works were in progress there." You what?! How B and I laughed at the thought of Mr Lavington wandering past with one of the pieces from his collection, and not noticing it drop out of his hand into a hole, and it going unnoticed by the hole diggers and being covered over. It seems ludicrously unlikely. It is ludicrously unlikely.

Furthermore, the head is referred to as a 'skull', which it clearly isn't (skulls don't have noses and lips). It's got some curious lines around it - is that a close-fitting hat? And there are some lumpy bits at the front. It seems to be carved so as to rest on a horizontal surface, not as though it was part of the decoration of something high up or vertical. But yet it's not at the angle it would be if lying down as part of a body.

Who knows. I can't help but think of ancientness and Anne Ross's heads in 'Pagan Celtic Britain', especially if we believe it was found 'at some depth'. But who knows. I just know I liked it.

Outside (in the graveyard where Nelson's young sister is buried) we sought more sculpture. Several things had been gathered in the shelter of the building near the chancel door. I'm glad they're relatively protected from the weather. But it seemed a bit unfair to tuck them away like this. There was a columnless capital with lovely perforated circles:

Also these three faces:

The left hand one is separate and seems to have a good thatch of hair. The other two are on the same piece of stone, which is interesting - could they be a double corbel? They seem more stylised and so they feel older to me. The left of the pair has a distinct ear (recalling Maperton's Minute Face) and a pursed expression, twisting his mouth to one side. The one on the right is also pulling a strange expression. He's got a stripe across the middle of his face. It can't be a bandage because the nose is uncovered. But it's not very convincing as a moustache either. So I wonder what it signifies.

Also next to the faces is this slab - if you visited somewhere and found only this you'd normally be very happy!This would have been great to draw but it was so very cold and my fingers wouldn't work.

We walked up to the top of the graveyard to find the promised effigy of St Swithun. It was a long way up. Again, it seemed sort of strange that the Victorian restorers would care enough to keep the carvings, but not care enough to actually keep them safe in the church. The good people of Bathford have recently renewed a little roof over the ones installed at the top of the graveyard to keep off the worst of the weather, but as we discovered, there sadly wasn't much left to protect.

The lovely beaded chevron column pieces next to 'St Swithun' are definitely Norman. They look like one at Langridge not so far away.

And there are two capitals, very worn, and they both seem to have heads carved on them.

        

 That could be a chin on the left hand remnant. But the right one looks clearer - is that a row of even little teeth along the bottom? There are definitely eyes. Is it a skull in fact? On both are the deep V shapes that are still on the main church doorway capital. They're interesting and it's such a shame they're so weathered! I wonder how decayed they were when they were first discovered and taken to the top of the churchyard.

 And what of the main attraction, the alleged St Swithun? He's looking a bit sorry for himself. But I think you can see a number of features that suggest the sculpture has Norman origins.

It's so weathered it's hard to see the details. It seems to be missing the middle section altogether. The figure is definitely clutching a book, which is a motif we've seen lots of times.

The chest has arcs that look rather like ribs. But I wonder if they're folds of clothing. When you look at the foot area, you can see fine lines which also suggest clothing folds. A bit too fine for my liking, I feel Norman sculpture is usually bolder. But I do like the daintiness of the feet, they're very thin and pointy, and remind me very much of the figure on the Cherhill font I recently drew from, or indeed from the sculpture at Stanton St. Quintin.

It's all a bit too worn and decayed which is sad. But it was nice to find.

I thought this church was going to be big and cold and Victorianly over-restored. But it had a very nice atmosphere indeed. I don't think that was just down to the extensive carpeting.

Ooh look

Oh sometimes I can't help laughing at my own amusingness. Although maybe this is how the sculpture was supposed to be. (I think I prefer my original interpretation though). This is photoshopped, honestly. You knew that.

Bishopstone (Swindon), Wiltshire

I knew we'd seen more dragons on doors than I've posted, so I looked back through my photos and found some at St Mary's church at Bishopstone. It was the same day as the stupendous Hinton Parva font and the wealth of carving at Ramsbury. Any other day you'd be pleased as Punch to find this doorway. But B and I were exhausted by this point, beyond the help of crisps and buns. What a daft hobby.

There are chevrons at two different angles, with a carved decorated border for them, and also an arch of good fat blobs. The tops of those neat skinny columns are rather nice too although they're worn. Here's the left hand dragon:

It's an interestingly exaggerated style, with the flaring snout. And what's going on with that bulbous head? Or is it four-eyed? Or are those high up ears? I wish I'd looked closer while we were there. The teeth are as fearsome as ever though.

Above the door there's a fairly inscrutable face. I seem to remember there were some Norman faces inside the church too, but I've no photos.

The font (which you can see on Mark Goodge's British Listed Buildings site) is also supposed to be Norman - it looks a bit neat for me but the proportions are pleasing. So many interesting things to see, and yet I didn't really See them. Proof that one should go home before getting into such a state! It's an exhausting business, hilarious really.


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Stottesdon, Shropshire

B and I visited Stottesdon in mid-May. I (inadvertently) took a maze of tiny roads to get to the village. But even without a daft route I think it'd have an air of being a bit remote.

We've seen some pretty weird stuff in our travels but Stottesdon's lintel is very much up there with the weirdest. Finding it is an interesting matter in itself. I'd assume that the door it's over used to be a main entrance. It's at the west end of the church, under the tower. Today you have to enter from the south, and to get to the lintel you have to squeeze in the dark through a little doorway behind the organ. It would have been more impressive to come straight into the church by striding under the lintel - it'd have been quite a entrance. But the addition of the organ has made the west entrance an extremely dingy room that feels like a forgotten cupboard. Maybe I would moan if they turned it into a fluorescently lit tourist attraction. At the moment it's like stepping back in time, its setting gives it atmosphere, albeit not the original effect. But the 2 watt bulb (I'm guessing) didn't provide quite enough light to appreciate the carvings or take decent photos. And they are pretty amazing. They are pretty weird and pretty amazing.

There's a picture on Secret Shropshire that shows the fuller picture. You can see saltire crosses in the tympanum and also an enigmatic head at the top of the arch.

It was too dark to draw and it felt like a funny space to be loitering in, but I do wish I'd made some sketches at the time as it's very difficult to know if what I've drawn from my photos is strictly accurate. The photo above gives the impression that the carvings were whitewashed at some point?

But you can certainly comment on the basic design - it has two creatures which are upside down, and one which is the right way up. And even if the lintel is now the wrong way up, that's still one animal that's upside down! And what do the creatures represent? They're all quadrupeds at least. And one's got the 'tail tucked through its leg' thing going on. The upright one is sort of catlike. I think it's been suggested it's a lion. I wonder if it's got those weird long claws going on that we saw at Stratton. Or am I just misinterpreting an artefact of the photo? The creature with the tail-tucked-under has got quite a human face. And the final creature on the left - I found its head hard to make out. But the two upside down do have chunky long necks. That rather reminded me of creatures at Ramsbury. And what are those griddy bits next to them? All is very enigmatic and strange. I love that such a thing exists.

The other truly amazing thing at Stottesdon is the font. It is also fantastically ill-lit, as though the local people don't appreciate what they've got compared to practically every other church in the country! B and I opened the doors and turned on the lights to try and get a decent view so we could draw. It was a shame that as we were leaving, a woman bearing the church flowers arrived, and seemed more interested in our heinous crime of mistakenly turning on one of the outside lights on, than enthusing about the font. Maybe we looked dodgy (Strangers in Stottesdon) or maybe she was just very conscious of global warming. I'm very glad the church was left open though, so we could come in and see these marvellous things. Next time we'll bring flashlights. This is something of the designs on the font:

Images © Rhiannon 2014