Tuesday, 19 August 2014

Sutton Benger, Wiltshire

Not Romanesque, I'm guessing. But totally peculiar - and enormous, definitely sticking out more than a metre. It's a gargoyle - that means it was designed to eject water from the roof out and away from the building. It's rather damaged but you can see that the water would have come out through the mouth.


Pevsner's book on Wiltshire is about the only place I've seen this mentioned at all so far. Everyone else is obsessed with the green man sculpture inside the church. When we arrived someone was arranging flowers or somesuch and the door was open. But perhaps she thought B and I looked dodgy because when we went to go in the door was locked! I didn't mind too much, the green man couldn't have been better than this :)



Now, Pevsner calls this a 'pig'. But it really doesn't look very piggish to me. It looks more like a cow to me, with its big wide stomach. Admittedly, a cow on the phone. I doubt it's actually on the phone. But it hasn't got a trotter pressed to its head, that's for sure.  And is that cow tail there on the left? I'm not sure but it could be.

My other idea is that it's a bear, because it's only got little ears. Cows and pigs have got quite big ears really. And bears do sometimes walk upright and use their front legs in a rather arm-ish way? Also, if it were a pig or a cow (or a boar or a bull) there are certain anatomical details which aren't there, and I think they probably would be shown. (Try to ignore the undignified addition of the downpipe). If it were a cow you'd go to town with an udder, and female pigs have rows of teats. A bull or boar would have obvious additions quite far up the abdomen. But a bear - if you look at a bear standing up, it seemingly keeps everything tidied away in its fur. And that's why it could be one? Who knows though.

I don't know why its got its paw against its face (other than it may have made it easier to carve). The attitude rather reminded me of our cute little corbel friend at Moreton Valence. Maybe its other arm went up towards its mouth, which is why there's a funny shaped hole there from where it fell off.

But anyway, this is well worth seeing because it's so absurdly large.


Images © Bethan 2014

Saturday, 9 August 2014

Upavon, Wiltshire

Curiously, the area around St Mary's unusual Norman font seemed to smell strongly of weed. Maybe it was the furniture polish. But the rest of the church didn't smell of it. It was notably weird. There wasn't any stashed in the font (I felt I had to check).

But more importantly, this font has an unusual eight exciting sides to draw, including two with some pretty amazing and fantastical creatures. There is one geometric side, one with what's said to be the Anunciation (an angel, a woman and a dove), and the rest are fantasias of foliage. Am I getting too carried away? Possibly. But it was a particularly concentrated burst of Romanesque-ish sculptural goodness.

This one could be a leopard - and check out his teeth and claws. Or conceivably, Ms Lion, to Mr Lion below.

Romanesque leopard carving on the font at St Mary's, Upavon, Wiltshire


 This panel is surely a lion because he's got such a furry head. But it's such a shame that you can't see his face, it seemed to have been chipped off. The more charitable explanation would be that the carving was so detailed that it kind of fell off. But it's still rather a shame.


Romanesque leopard carving on the font at St Mary's, Upavon, Wiltshire


Also with the putative lion was this truly crazy creature, like something from Hieronymus Bosch's imagination. I've read that it could be a sphinx. Or maybe a dragon. But to me it looks like a plucked chicken with a huge mouth, that's just eaten someone, and that's their head still in the creature's mouth. It's marvellously mad.

Romanesque leopard carving on the font at St Mary's, Upavon, Wiltshire

Up next, gloriously freehand foliage designs:

Romanesque foliage carving on the font at St Mary's, Upavon, Wiltshire


Romanesque foliage carving on the font at St Mary's, Upavon, Wiltshire


There are two more which incorporate foliage and cross symbols:

Romanesque foliage and cross carving on the font at St Mary's, Upavon, Wiltshire


Romanesque cross carving on the font at St Mary's, Upavon, Wiltshire

And here the nested chevron panel:


The detail on the so-called Annunciation panel didn't come out very clearly on the photo I took. To draw more than one or two things in situ is very tiring, it takes a lot of concentration! I can see a dove (the holy ghost?) and maybe Mary with a cross. She could be carrying a baby, but that wouldn't fit very well into the idea of the annunciation! Sometimes she's depicted spinning, but I'm not sure it's that, and sometimes it's a book, but it didn't look very book-like either. Gabriel (for it is he, if we are dealing with the Annunciation) also has a halo, and maybe has wings and armour-plated shoulders. It's quite difficult to say. Their faces in particular are very worn - they look a bit like Aliens. The plant in the middle has leaves that look a bit lilyesque. That would fit with other contemporary depictions - the lily being a symbol of Mary's purity. The angel is definitely holding something, and this is referred to as a sceptre in descriptions of other Annunciation depictions, but here it isn't very big, so maybe it should be called a wand, which sounds decidedly peculiar. But let's face it, the whole idea of the Annunciation is decidedly peculiar (unless you're a paid-up member of Christianity).



My drawings are a bit wonky, but then so are the carvings. I can only find one photo online, at the British Listed Buildings website, and curiously it doesn't show the most interesting faces of the font. There are so many photos of cats online, and (so I understand) of people in states of undress. But only one photo of the excellent font at Upavon. And that's just how things are in the world.


Images © Rhiannon 2014

Chirton, Wiltshire (the return)

The church of John the Baptist in Chirton is home to beakheads and a carved font, both from the Norman era. Beakheads can't be beaten, and there aren't too many in Wiltshire.

The beakheads are quite small, but they're very varied - not just animal heads but hands and little figures. The columns featured a slightly less grand version of the 'hinges' we saw at South Cerney.

Romanesque beakheads and chevron sculpture at Chirton church, Wiltshire

The font has twelve arches containing what you'd imagine is the twelve apostles. They were all reasonably individual in how they looked. In fact the more you looked, the more you realised that the designs that framed the figures weren't mechanically repetitive either. Most if not all the figures were carrying books but the one I drew also had a key - and that, it seems, would be Peter.

a Romanesque carving of a saint on the church font at Chirton, Wiltshire

The design around the top was the very sort of thing that I like to draw. It's got some logic but it's also unpredictable. And it's organic and planty. The sketch below has two layers because I just ran the drawing on. What's drawn is probably about half the circumference of the top of the font.

romanesque foliage pattern on the church font at Chirton, Wiltshire


There were also some very nice designs on the capitals within the church. They also looked pretty Romanesque in style, though they were so beautifully crisp that it was easy to wonder if they were really so old. I think they probably were though, they had a certain unsymmetrical bold look about them



Images © Rhiannon 2014


Sunday, 3 August 2014

Leonard Stanley, Gloucestershire

St Swithin's church is huge and grand and impressive. There was a priory at Leonard Stanley and it's clear the church was part of it, you can almost imagine the monks. The church has got a huge central tower - something B and I are starting to recognise as an sign of ancientness. There was a lot of really interesting carving, including a couple of very detailed corbels. One of them showed Jesus having his feet washed by Mary Magdelen and her long hair. It was impossible to see properly because it was so high up, so it was impossible to draw and impossible to take a photo of. Which was a shame. You can get some idea from Eric Hardy's photo on Flickr.

Mr Hardy also has a good photo of the reclining figure on another high-up corbel. I don't know who the figure might represent but he looks pretty relaxed. John Harding seems to think that it's to do with the Nativity, because he thinks the Baby Jesus is on the side, looked over by a cow. But why would such an important part of the story relegated to the side of the pillar? I'm not convinced. Isn't that a hand on the pillar - is it a humanoid cow in a robe?? And if that is the infant Jesus, why is half the scene apparently missing? Does this mean it's all been moved or rebuilt round? It all seems quite weird. The Leonard Stanley website thinks it's fine, and the reclining figure is Mary. But that strikes me as quite peculiar, as such a scene seems unusually personal. And as I recall, Mary had to squeeze out Jesus in a stable, not somewhere with a posh bed. I'm such a cynic. But sometimes it pays not to believe everything you read.

I was most taken with the two animals in a carving more at eye height. It's said to be 'Adam and Eve as grotesques'. Again it's a bit of a strange concept. Why would you carve the first man and woman as weird animals? Admittedly there's some kind of fruit-swapping moment going on. In a tree, possibly. But animals eat and share fruit all the time. It doesn't mean they're doing it in some kind of metaphorical or allegorical fashion. So I'm not sure I go for the explanation. But I love the carving whatever it means or meant. Martin Davis has a clear photo on his 'Freeranger' blog.

strange Romanesque sculpture of Adam and Eve? in Leonard Stanley, Gloucestershire


What was truly rather curious and disappointing was that an amazing carved font was outside the front door, being used as a plant pot. It had a massive crack in it. It surely must be Norman. I mean it's a font that's about 800 years old! So bizarre to leave it outside, so casual, so dismissive of what it actually is. Colin Baxter has a rather charmingly tinted snap of it from 2010. You'll notice the cable design round the top, and the palmette leaves. I'm sure they both indicate its age. I think it's a shame the current churchgoers don't decide to take care of it and move it out of the snow and rain.

It was also surprising to me that there was zero information about the church in the church. It's clearly well used by the congregation, it seemed to have a happy lively atmosphere and was colourfully decorated. But don't 21st century Christians care much about the heritage of their churches, and communicating that to others? Surely they should. There was a booklet about the history of the war memorial (weirdly) but nothing about the amazing Norman carvings.

In addition to the amazing column capitals and the font there were bold and simple carved capitals (which anywhere else would have really drawn the eye), and outside the main door, two dragon heads kept watch. B and I instantly recognised the style as the same as the ones we'd seen and drawn at Elkstone. They were surely done by the same people, or closely copied. We wondered if there was a workshop somewhere churning out carvings which people could choose from! And it was interesting to see these familiar faces, after having seen the matching quadruplet animal corbels at Moreton Valence.


Norman dragon carving at Leonard Stanley

John Harding also has a photo of the scene high up over the door with the dragons - it seems to be a carving of three figures sitting and holding something between them, which is said to be a scroll, though that's not very obvious. His photo shows that there are two tiny animal heads as well - we certainly couldn't see this from where we stood. I think he must have had a ladder or a camera on a stick!


Images © Rhiannon 2014

Moreton Valence, Gloucestershire

St Stephen's church is between the River Severn and the very straight Roman A38, down a quiet little dead-end road. We had to walk round the back of the church to find the carvings - discovering the tympanum inside a very quaint half-timbered porch, along with some very ancient tombstones. This north side definitely felt forgotten. But it seemed to make more sense when we wandered towards a little bridge over some water - it was a rectangular moat. English Heritage's record says that this dates to 1253 when King Henry III gave ten Forest of Dean oaks to William de Valance to build a hall. Maybe that's why the grand side of the church faces that way. Or maybe it's the reverse, and that's why the moat is on the north side because it faced the pre-existing church entrance.

Whichever, we both liked the carving. It's not as bold as some, but neither was it as clearly detailed as others we've seen. It's not that clear whether the creature is a dragon or a wyvern - the lines were a bit vague. And poor St Michael didn't have much of a facial expression. But I did like the flag on his spear.

Some of the swirling shapes don't seem to quite make sense (the one under his sleeve, which is perhaps a wing), and the foliage on the right seems to be coming out of a plant pot (which I like). Our new Tympanum Bible (Keyser) calls the shapes on the left 'souls', but I'm not wholly convinced. They're certainly numinous but I thought they looked more like clouds or waves. Who knows.


St Michael and the dragon tympanuum, Moreton Valence, Gloucestershire

Outside on the north corners of the church were some really cute animal corbels. It was hard to say what sort of animal really - bears? pigs? They were clutching their little faces in a very sweet way.

Norman animal corbel at Moreton Valence church, Gloucestershire

 There were four carved pretty much the same. Which was interesting considering the carvings we saw next at Leonard Stanley.


Images © Rhiannon 2014

Sunday, 13 July 2014

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

Sunday, 6 July 2014

Avening, Gloucestershire


One of the Romanesque capitals inside Holy Cross church, Avening. It rather reminded me of one of the ones at Knook.



This wraps round one of the capitals on extremely tall pillars at the entrance. The feather-like leaves reminded me of the ones on the Norman so-called 'Tree of Life' at Rodbourne. But the line down the middle of the branches is reminiscent of Anglo-Saxon carvings we've seen, and the funny little blobs also reminded me of the A-S carvings at that freaky place, Britford. So maybe that indicates it's quite an early example?



And this is the capital on the left side of the door. I don't know what's going on above or beneath the animal's head, it's very strange. Maybe I misinterpreted it and it's a tree behind? There's a photo on Churchcrawler's Flickr page which perhaps suggests so. The two-bodies-one-head is something I've seen at Lullington in Somerset, as you can see on this Flickr page. But my sister pointed out a very interesting thought - what if these are more Picasso style, and there aren't really two bodies, but two views of the same animal, which is why they're joined at the head at the corner of the pillar? It's not a thought I've had before and it's a good one.

You'll notice the old favourite of tail-tucked-under-the-leg :) The bodies are definitely animals but the head is really quite strange, more human.

There was much more of Romanesque excitement at Avening. And inside, even a very worn bit of presumably Anglo-Saxon interlace. But it was so worn that with such a wealth of other things to draw it got overlooked (for now).


These are the patterns on the other Norman capitals inside the church.


Images © Rhiannon 2014

Cherington, Gloucestershire

We ducked out of the rain into the porch at St Nicholas, Cherington. I didn't feel sure that the lions were properly old and Norman, mostly because they haven't got the 'tails under legs' theme. And they've got strange little heads. They look more like little cats than big lions. Which would be fair enough if you'd never seen a lion (it reminds me of a photo of an elephant and castle on Deborah Harvey's blog.  Maybe they're fine and genuinely Romanesque though. They were in a tympanum after all. And they're doing that affronted thing face-to-face. B was happy enough. Maybe this is an excuse to visit Many More Tympanums to compare.


There's a photo of the lions on Rex Harris's Flickr page. Wherever we go, he seems to have got there before us.

Since our visit I read on the British History website that there was another tympanum:
"A second more elaborate tympanum, said to have come from the south wall, is at Cherington Park."

Mmm more elaborate. But I can't find a picture of it on the internet (yet).  Wasn't it great when you could just stroll off with a tympanum and stick it on your own grand house. Cherington Park's just next door to the church. Perhaps I should have just gone and rang the bell. Maybe it was moved when Mr Baldwin repaired the church in 1815 and saw fit to carve his own name on the lintel below below the lions. Tch.

A slight Cherington update (8.8.14)

I noticed on British Listed Buildings that the other tympanum was still on Cherington Park in the 1980s, despite the building's 'partial demolishment' in the 1950s. So this is good news for tympanum fans. (All two of us.)

I've also found out what the tympanum depicts, thanks to my lovely InterLibraryLoan of Charles Keyser's 1927 book. He says: "On upper part a sundial with serpent above, a lion on left, and griffin on right. Below four courses of the fish scale ornament, and three rows of indented on the lintel." He also says 'Probably moved in 1816', so perhaps he had the same idea as me about it being appropriated when the church was repaired. It sounds as if it is an interesting design.


Images © Rhiannon 2014

Tuesday, 24 June 2014

Codford St Peter, Wiltshire - wild speculations

When we visited Codford St Peter recently, I drew more than the font. The church is home to an amazing Anglo-Saxon carving. There's a series of photos on Rex Harris's Flickr site. The stone seems to depict a light-footed chap with a hammer(?) in one hand and a branch in the other.

In the church leaflet, there was mention of the designs on the stone. It's like the stone is only half of what it was, it's like a slab from the front of something. The sides are clearly only part of a design. I copied the design and have made a mirror image of it to make a speculative whole. I'm not that convinced I've got it right. But you can see some things reminiscent of the winding plant-like tendrils we've seen at places like Ramsbury.



I feel reasonably happy that these are winding floral designs. I mean you can't see any otters, can you. Or fish. Or eels. I think you'd need a good imagination. So we were surprised when we read that the stone allegedly depicts such things (this was in the information leaflet in the church).

I tracked down the source of these speculations. It's the 1967 (v52) edition of the Wiltshire Archaeological and Natural History Society journal, in an article by K G Forbes. I'm sure Mr or Ms Forbes meant well but I think they got carried away. And I think it's a bit of a shame that they keep getting quoted in things. They said the main figure has 'a luxuriant moustache'. We looked very hard (you can too). There is no moustache. There really isn't. And I don't think there's an otter either.

I think when you draw something you look very hard and it helps you see what's there and what is not, even when the carvings are worn and indistinct. The plants look symbolic or stylised to me and I don't think it's possible to say they're specifically alders or comfrey, or that the fish (what fish) are actually dace. But never mind. I'm not trying to be awkward, or cast aspersions on Mr/Ms Forbes. I'm just trying to point out that you should try to think for yourself, and not believe everything you read. Making close observations, as when drawing, kind of gives you a boost in confidence that your own observations may be right.


Images © Rhiannon 2014

Tuesday, 17 June 2014

Dragons and Wyverns

It cannot be said that I'm totally wasting my time dashing all over the place, because I am actually learning a thing or two. For example, here we have my previously visited tympanum from Harnhill.


I've been reading John Vinycomb's 'Fictitious and Symbolic Creatures in Art', which you can download from Project Gutenberg. And so my previous confusion about our reptilian friend's lack of back legs is explained - he's not a dragon, he's a wyvern. Wyverns only have two legs and a nice tapering tail. There's even something called a lindworm which doesn't have any legs at all, but it can have optional wings, which probably makes up for the limblessness a bit.

I had childishly found it quite amusing that St Michael appeared to be wearing one of my dreadful school uniform skirts, unflatteringly flared and knee length. But, it turns out this is also totally deliberate. It suggests Michael is an Archangel. I think it's a bit of a management position if you're an angel.

Here's the relevant bit from the bible. It's from Revelation, which is a particularly Imaginative book if I recall correctly.
And there was war in heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the dragon; and the dragon fought and his angels, and prevailed not; neither was their place found any more in heaven. And the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world: he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him.

So in this case, 'dragon' has rather negative connotations, it represents evil and bad behaviour, and various other saints can be found poking or standing on the creatures - St Margaret, St Andrew, St Sylvester - and St George of course.

But when you're British, you know it's not all black and white like this. Dragons have their positive connotations too. It's interesting to look at how dragons were viewed in the era when the tympanum was carved. Check out the wyverns on the Bayeux tapestry - they're right by the bit you may be familiar with, where Harold has got an arrow in the eye. There's a wider image here in which you can see the red wyvern being held up, and a lighter one being trampled. These excellent (perhaps hollow) banners were those of the Saxon army. So the Saxons obviously viewed dragons positively. Perhaps when I've seen dragonlike creatures on carvings like that at Colerne, it shows that they weren't all evil and naughty at all.

Dragon banner - Harold Rex interfectus est

Of course, the dragon is famous today for being on the Welsh flag. And this connection with the Celts can be proved to go back to 800 AD, since an allegorical tale of red and white dragons can be found in the Historia Brittanum (look at section 42 ). The dragons represent the native peoples and the Saxon incomers. Of course, it's possible (nay, likely) that dragons were important symbolically before this too.

To add to confusion, the Normans seem to have seen themselves as dragons too - there is a 12th century poem by Stephen of Rouen called Draco Normannicus.

And much later on, Henry VIIth, the first Tudor king, had a dragon as one of his emblems, because he was trying to convince everyone he was the right man for the job, ruling over both England and Wales. He claimed uninterrupted descent from the Princes of Britain - people (or legendary figures) like King Arthur and Cadwallader.

So in short, everyone likes to have the dragon as their symbol. And that is because dragons are excellent, and not just symbols of evil and badness. Anyone who has been brought up on Ivor the Engine and little Idris must agree.



saint and wyvern image © Rhiannon 2014

Monday, 9 June 2014

Chew Stoke, North-East Somerset

These two carvings are in the north wall of the graveyard of St Andrew's church. I only found out about them the other day, from the South West Corpus. I picked away quite a bit of newly grown ivy off one (it wasn't stuck fast) and cut back a bit of the hedge. They're thought to be early 10th century.

 With such worn stones, it's a particular kind of drawing enjoyment, because to begin with your resistant brain tells you there's nothing to draw. But as you work from one area to another, some sense begins to emerge, and that's satisfying to a primate brain. It also feels something like a process of recording. Yes there will be craftily lit photos in the Corpus book (and you can see photos in a 1938 volume of the Antiquaries Journal, albeit the wrong way up!). But there are things you can't get from mere looking, I think. There is something special about the process of drawing that helps you understand what the pattern is.



Both stones have had a hole put in them at some point. With the patterns quite faint, that doesn't help with interpretation. While I was drawing the one above, I knew there was something that didn't add up about the right hand side - (literally) too many ends not tying up. But now I'm refining the drawing at home, maybe it makes more sense. I think they just loop together where the hole now is. It's a large design and some of the ribbon is rather wide - in fact I thought I could see a border on one bit (rather than just a line down the middle) and that makes me wonder if a snakey creature is involved somehow. It's obviously not one of those neat symmetrical knotwork patterns. So perhaps it's more like something at Ramsbury.



This is the stone that's on the right of the doorway. It was very hard to make out anything but the basic shapes - there were only a couple of places where it was clear if anything was going over or under anything else. There are some clear spirals though and the two club-shaped foliage shapes. Maybe there was a cross in a circle in the top corner or maybe that was my imagination. It's pretty elaborate and seems rather different to the other Anglo-Saxon stones I've seen so far?

Images © Rhiannon 2014

Chelwood, North-East Somerset

This font is in St Leonard's church, Chelwood.

Fat font with scallops, scallopy circle and volutes

Another angle of the chunky square font

The more I look at these sketches, the more problems of dodgy perspective I can see. But they're only on-the-spot drawings so I'm not going to beat myself up too much. I think I've got something of the font's chunkiness. The nice little spirally scrolls at the corners are called volutes. In Codford St Mary we saw some much bigger ones on some columns, and they had an animal-eye effect. But these didn't really.

 Images © Rhiannon 2014

Twerton, Bath, North-East Somerset

These large-fanged creatures are in the porch of St Michael and All Angels, Twerton. 
 
The two creatures bite down with wrinkled noses on the columns

A drawing that shows the arch and its diamonds and inscription: "This is none other but the house of god and this is the gate of heaven"

There's a photo of the real thing on the Proud of Twerton website. The presumably Victorian inscription (the door was moved in the 19th century) is from Genesis 28:17.

 Images © Rhiannon 2014