ST MARY. Of brown cobbles. The S tower has the date of 1688, but it was in all probability rebuilt with E.E. materials. E.E. also the S doorway. Otherwise mostly Perp and much re-done in the C19. But on entering one is at once faced with much more ancient history. The N arcade is partly Late Norman and partly earliest E.E. Round piers, square abaci, five bays. The Norman part has multi-scalloped capitals. Then follows one capital with flat stylized pointed leaves and then stiff-leaf. The capitals are low, and the stiff-leaf is on a small scale with the arrangements symmetrical. The S arcade is of the late C13, with octagonal piers, arches with two hollow chamfers, and broaches at the start. The aisle is narrow, as the S tower determined its width. The arch from the tower to the aisle is C13 too. Small nailhead in the respond abaci. Again of the same time the chancel arch.* - PULPIT. An unusually beautiful late C17 piece, the panels with a little inlay, the angle posts carved with cherubs’ heads and garlands. - BENCH ENDS. An excellent set (N aisle). Traceried fronts and ends modestly decorated with palms or an edging of fleurons and with bold poppyheads of leaf in plain outlines far from the usual fleur-de-lis type. Also human heads, stags, a sitting hen, a camel, and other animals and birds and monsters.
* The Rev. P. J. Bond tells me that before the restoration of 1857 the chancel had a flat roof and the nave an E window. He wonders whether the details of the chancel arch are not of 1857. Mr Bond also mentions ballflower decoration of the lintel of the N doorway.
EYNESBURY. The quiet charm of St Neots is over it, and its old-worldness seems to have crossed the stream and fallen on its 17th century rectory, its 18th century cottages, and the timbered inn older than all.
It has a queer bit of history, for there used to walk down these streets a man eight feet high, James Toller, who has lain in the churchyard since a year or two after Waterloo; and it has as queer a collection of men and beasts as any village we have seen.
They are, of course, in the church, a place to delight us all. We come to it through a porch put up as a thank-offering by a man who came safe home from Waterloo, Colonel William Humbley, who fought in 22 battles in five countries and lies under the porch he built. There is a fragment of the old Norman work in the chancel and the north arcade, but the church is 13th century, and its tower, queerly placed at the east end of a narrow aisle, is as young as the 17th century. One or two capitals in the nave have bold carving.
But it is the wooden zoo that brings us here, an astonishing collection carved on pews and bench-ends. Dull would he be of soul who could come here without a smile; we can almost hear the 16th century carpenter chuckling as he carved these little figures to amuse posterity. Some of his bench-ends have magnificent foliage and dozens of them have fine poppyheads, rather like handfuls of leaves. It is these poppyheads that surprise us so. They are crowned with pieces of splendid carving, some with heads of men and women, some with bulls, some with terrifying monsters. There is a camel lying down, a horse and a goat, a queer creature with a nut in his mouth, a sitting hen, a pair of stags with horns pressed back, and a crouching animal ready for a spring. It is the best free show that ever was for the boys and girls of Eynesbury.
Yet it is not all, for in this church is something like a small museum. We found here, in a case of curious possessions, an old iron padlock, a 17th century weathervane, and old pewter. There is a small carved chest of Shakespeare’s day, an 18th century table with an inlaid top, and cherubs and festoons of Queen Anne’s time on the handsome pulpit. In the churchyard is an ancient cross.
It has a queer bit of history, for there used to walk down these streets a man eight feet high, James Toller, who has lain in the churchyard since a year or two after Waterloo; and it has as queer a collection of men and beasts as any village we have seen.
They are, of course, in the church, a place to delight us all. We come to it through a porch put up as a thank-offering by a man who came safe home from Waterloo, Colonel William Humbley, who fought in 22 battles in five countries and lies under the porch he built. There is a fragment of the old Norman work in the chancel and the north arcade, but the church is 13th century, and its tower, queerly placed at the east end of a narrow aisle, is as young as the 17th century. One or two capitals in the nave have bold carving.
But it is the wooden zoo that brings us here, an astonishing collection carved on pews and bench-ends. Dull would he be of soul who could come here without a smile; we can almost hear the 16th century carpenter chuckling as he carved these little figures to amuse posterity. Some of his bench-ends have magnificent foliage and dozens of them have fine poppyheads, rather like handfuls of leaves. It is these poppyheads that surprise us so. They are crowned with pieces of splendid carving, some with heads of men and women, some with bulls, some with terrifying monsters. There is a camel lying down, a horse and a goat, a queer creature with a nut in his mouth, a sitting hen, a pair of stags with horns pressed back, and a crouching animal ready for a spring. It is the best free show that ever was for the boys and girls of Eynesbury.
Yet it is not all, for in this church is something like a small museum. We found here, in a case of curious possessions, an old iron padlock, a 17th century weathervane, and old pewter. There is a small carved chest of Shakespeare’s day, an 18th century table with an inlaid top, and cherubs and festoons of Queen Anne’s time on the handsome pulpit. In the churchyard is an ancient cross.
No comments:
Post a Comment