EASTER: BRITAIN’S QUIRKIEST CHURCHES
Almost every village has a parish church, but they don’t all follow a template. We reveal some rare architectural gems.
The landscape of the UK is defined not just by its hills, rivers, woods and farmland, but by its buildings, and none more so than the historic centrepiece of almost every village and smaller town: the parish church.
When we think of a typical rural church, we tend to picture those of the Gothic styles of the Middle Ages. Yet many broke this heavenly mould. Some regions have distinct architectural designs, little seen elsewhere in the country; others even possess their own idiosyncratic traditions. So how did this variety come about?
Beginning as timber structures, the earliest churches were often built by the owners of vast manorial estates who were recent converts to Christianity. Following William the Conqueror’s 1066 invasion, these early churches were frequently rebuilt in stone, as Norman design infiltrated and foreign bishops brought their masons across the Channel. Within a few centuries, church-building had become a major enterprise. Growing populations brought wealth, transforming even the most rural churches. Both clergymen and lay benefactors tried to secure the future of their souls by paying for
“Rival neighbourhoods inspired each other to new engineering inventiveness”
new and more impressive structures. The late 13th and early 14th century became the ‘golden age’ of church building in Britain.
By this time, a square eastern chancel (the domain of the priest and for celebrating Mass) was often divided from a nave (for the congregation). Later, porches were added, commonly a western tower and an extended nave. Interiors were enhanced with intricate ornamentation, tombs bearing effigies and vast windows, particularly across Northamptonshire, Lincolnshire and East Anglia, where light was welcomed after the gloom of previous centuries.
DESIGN FOR LOCAL NEEDS
While there were resemblances, regional variation was common, partly because of geology. Many churchbuilders were dependent on local materials, and local differences could be attributed to a make-do culture. Granite was common to Cornwall, while from Dorset to Yorkshire superbly carved masonry was hewn from honey-coloured oolitic limestone. Flint was common to East Anglia, but working flint proved tricky, resulting in distinctively round towers. Though some local styles were designed to enhance the spiritual atmosphere, or out of convenience, others were demonstrations of cachet. In the east, drier weather and access to timber allowed for steeply pitched roofs requiring complex frameworks.
Perhaps the greatest example of variation is seen in spires. Common to the Midlands and Yorkshire, these piercing spikes rose taller as masons vied to reach the heavens first, particularly from the 15th century.
The height provided the prestige of a dominant landmark. But sometimes there was also a practical purpose: high buildings served as lookouts, useful in parts of the country vulnerable to marauders. In northern England, many churches were fortified to protect them from raids by the notorious Border reivers. The most southerly of these is St Gregory’s at Bedale in North Yorkshire. Along the Welsh borders – where the Normans struggled to maintain their grip – church towers augmented a countryside punctuated by castles and fortified manor houses.
In areas spared from the threat of attack, spires were prevalent, or flat, square tops, reflecting undulating terrain. In the South East, workable building stone was scarce and often imported, so timber-framed belfries were sometimes the fashion.
Who chose the designs? Usually, the monastic motherhouse to which the church was affiliated, or a wealthy benefactor, or the parish priest. Rival neighbourhoods with burgeoning monasteries inspired each other to new stylistic and engineering inventiveness.
The master mason in charge was as much a draughtsman as a stonemason, with skills in using a mallet and chisel, but primarily he was an architect. But skill could go hand in hand with error. Some churches were masterpieces of miscalculation or misfortune. Like dialects and customs, th e styles of local craftsmen varied, while itinerant masons picked up skills from their colleagues working across regions.
After the 1540s, the religious and architectural landscape of the parish church radically altered to meet fashion, belief or changing taste. As churches adapted to changes in faith – the rise of Protestantism, for example – regional quirks began to fade and a national style emerged, leaving less scope for idiosyncrasy.
Today, visitors still find consolation, hope and spiritual and aesthetic expression in rural churches, as through their stones these landmarks speak, and celebrate the local, unconventional and original.