ST MARY ILMINGTON
Rachael Bentley discovers a charming Cotswold church with some curious church mice
STANDING on top of the Ilmington Downs on a bright autumn day, you are rewarded with far-reaching views across the coppices and fields of Gloucestershire, Warwickshire and Oxfordshire. To the west lies the Vale of Evesham, with the Malvern Hills and – on a clear day – the Welsh mountains beyond. Just below, glowing in the afternoon sun, the tower of the church of St Mary the Virgin, in the village of Ilmington, rises from the trees.
This whole area was once heavily wooded and the name Ilmington probably evolved in the 10th century from Ylmandunes, meaning “at the elm-grown hill”. This, in turn, became Elmington, “the place where elm trees grow”. Unfortunately, Dutch elm disease arrived in the 1960s and decimated the elms, but the area remains a patchwork of green.
Ilmington sits within the northern tip of the Cotswolds Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty and claims the title of the highest village in Warwickshire. With its natural amphitheatre of hills and numerous trails into the countryside, the village draws walkers from far afield.
Walking from Foxcote Hill, along Pig Lane – an ancient bridleway which runs along the crest of the Downs – St Mary’s can be seen at her best in the valley below. The view is worthy of a pause, before following the footpath down to the village over unspoilt limestone grassland.
The path hugs the hedgerows which border the charmingly named Humpty Dumpty Field (or Dairy Ground), with its ancient quarry and exposed
Jurassic rock formations, which now provide a valuable habitat for small heath butterflies, badgers, brown hares, various bats and rare plants.
At the foot of the Downs, the path emerges on the southern side of the village into Grump Street, which seems almost untouched by time, as do the marvellously simple village street names: Frog Lane, Front Street, Back Street, Middle Street and Featherbed Lane. Grump Street opens on to Upper Green from where the church is clearly visible.
A church has stood here since Saxon times and was logged in The Domesday Book as “a church of wooden construction”. St Mary’s was rebuilt by the Normans in the 12th century, and was enlarged and reshaped in 1846. The resulting cruciform church has Grade I status and is built from local ironstone, highly praised for its characteristic warmth (the faint red hue being most obvious after rain). In the centre of the village there are other ironstone properties, honey-coloured cottages of oolitic limestone, typical of many Cotswold villages, and a few thatches.
St Mary the Virgin stands at the heart of the village, in a car-free, green sanctuary only accessible by footpath. The footpath runs alongside the graveyard, remnants of old orchards and the medieval ponds, which are now stocked with trout.
I chose to take the path from Back Street, which leads towards the church entrance and is sheltered by 12 lime trees, one for each of the apostles. Looking up, the church clock can be seen on the western tower wall. Less obvious is the medieval shadow clock on the southern wall, which would have once told the congregation when to attend services.
You might also notice a line of stonework running around the top of the bell tower, indicating that the height of the tower was increased.
This was to ensure the bells could be heard in the neighbouring hamlets of Larkstoke and Compton Scorpion.
Nearing the main entrance, you can’t help but wonder at an unusually large monument, which looks like a small cathedral or steepled church. This is the Samson Monument, built during 1750 in memorial of James Samson, who was a wealthy property owner in the village.
The main entrance itself is also of interest, as it incorporates three different architectural styles spanning more than 400 years. The doorway arch dates from the 11th century and is Norman, as indicated by the characteristic dogtooth carving. There is also a canopied niche in the Gothic style, beneath which is a Tudor arch porch and water stoop where people would have anointed themselves before entering.
Above the entrance hangs the coat of arms of Simon de Montfort who led the baronial opposition to the rule of King Henry III of England. He became the de facto ruler of the
country, as well as a patron of the church.
Once inside St Mary’s, there is a surprising sense of scale. Only the east window contains stained glass, so the overall effect is bright and welcoming. Originally, the two Norman windows on either side of the nave would have provided the only natural light. The clerestory windows were added in the 14th century. The font is also from the14th century and resembles a rook from a chess set, turned on its head.
Behind the font is a modern wall hanging. Helen Patrick, Treasurer at St Mary’s, explains.
“Our apple map was created by one hundred villagers and took 18 months to complete. We are very proud of it. The map was designed by local artist Julia Robins and was based on a 1922 map of the village, showing its original orchards. Residents June Hobson and Irene Sabin organised the local Women’s Institute to embroider the map, and schoolchildren helped by sewing on some of the smaller details, like the butterflies.”
The map shows how, in times gone by, this area was covered by small orchards of pears, plums, damsons and, most notably, apples, the names of some of which you’ll find sewn into the hem, including Beauty of Bath, Worcester Pearmain, Blenheim Orange and Sweet Sue. Elms might have been key to the topography of the area, but it’s thanks to the apple that trees remain part of the village’s social history.
A sense of community and St
Mary’s are interwoven and as such the church is also rightly proud of its bells and bell ringers, who have featured on BBC Radio 4’s Bells on Sunday.
“We are lucky to have a regular team of ringers for Sunday services, weddings and competitions. Visitors are also welcome to ring the bells by appointment with the Tower Captain,” Helen adds.
At the back of the church, a spectacular, quadruple-chamfered archway leads into the bell-ringing chamber. Inside, an old rhyme for ringers is displayed for those who are considering taking part.
Ye ringers all that do come here
Give head and hand and heart;
The head for will,
The hand for skill,
The heart for worship’s part.
Stairs from the ringing room lead up to the belfry and a peal of eight bells. Five of the bells were cast by Thomas Bailey at Chacombe, Northants, in 1641. The first treble bell bears the inscription Soli Deo Solo Gloria (To God alone be the glory alone). On its waist are the arms of Charles I. The tenor bell bears the inscription, By my voice, the people may know to come and hear the word of God. The sixth bell was added as a victory and peace bell in 1921, and the final two bells were installed to mark the millennium.
Back in the nave, your eyes follow a bright red carpet towards the chancel, past solid oak furnishings and warm stone walls. The oak furnishings were added by Robert “Mouseman” Thompson of Kilburn, North Yorkshire, in the 1930s, during the most recent restoration of the church.
“Mousey” Thompson’s signature was a carved mouse, said to have been inspired by the saying that a craftsman is destined to be “as poor as a church mouse”. He carved a mouse into almost every piece he made – and eleven can be found scurrying amongst the pews of St Mary’s.
Many families pause after walking the Downs to search for the mice. Some appear to scamper along the edges of furniture; others look to be sitting at the entrances of mouse holes, hiding in plain sight amongst the pews. Mice are carved into the doors, desk, pulpit and on to the frame
of the memorial plaque of Spencer Flower, who played a leading role in the restoration. They are some of the finest examples of Robert Thompson’s craftsmanship and provide a great deal of fun for visiting children.
Beyond the pews, the north transept dates from the 14th century and there is an unusual carved head of a woman on the transept arch, the explanation of which is lost to the annals of time. The south transept is relatively new, having been added in 1846, and has more conventional male and female heads carved into its archway corbels.
In the south transept is a stone which shows a bear-baiting scene. The stone, however, has been placed the wrong way up; the bear should have been placed lying on its back. It has no connection to the fabric of the building and may have come from an old property nearby.
You would be forgiven for missing the bear, however, as a huge organ takes up much of the south transept. The organ was rebuilt by Nicholson and Co. from Worcester and is unusually large for a village church. It must sound wonderful. Helen assures me that it is played every week and is an attraction for visiting organists.
The chancel is Early English and has a handsome Norman arch through which the east window is framed. Inside the chancel is a priest’s door and attractive stone niches. In the sanctuary, to the right of the altar, are the three smooth stone seats of sidilia intended for the clergy. The height of these indicate that the floor was once far lower than it is now. There is also a small stone piscina or basin in the sanctuary, similar to those used for draining the water used to wash the Communion Cup.
On the walls are tablets in remembrance of former Rectors and their families. One stands out from the rest. Reverend E. Golding’s tablet states: His performance of the duties of his office fell far short of their obligation and importance. This seems to be a pretty harsh appraisal, but the guidebook suggests that the Reverend may have written the epitaph himself.
Another notable memorial is that of Sir Nicholas Overbury, father of the Warwickshire poet Sir Thomas Overbury, from Compton Scorpion.
Sir Thomas was imprisoned in the Tower of London, and was poisoned after he implicated one of
King James I’s favourites in a scandal.
There are also memorial stones set within the floor, these are the memorials of the Canning family, who once lived at Foxcote House on the hill above the village. There are two memorials in the chancel and six in the nave of the church, all worn smooth by centuries of passing feet.
You can still make out the family crest on each stone. The crests show three Moors’ heads, suggesting a link to the Crusades. There are also winged skulls, which were a symbol that the deceased’s journey was not yet over. Emblems such as these were often chosen by Puritans, who didn’t believe in using religious imagery.
Leaving the church, I ponder the saying, “as poor as a church mouse”. It may have evolved from the idea that a mouse would find little sustenance inside a church.
If, like me, searching for mice amongst the pews has left you hungry, there are two wonderful pubs in the village: The Howard Arms and The Red Lion.
There is also an excellent community shop on Upper Green which stocks the locally produced Grumpy Frog Cider and The Spirit of Ilmington Apple Brandy (as sold by Fortnum and Mason), which Prue Leith quoted as being “perfect for cocktails and definitely too good to be left in the bottle.”