ST MARY. The church was gutted by fire in 1930 and restored and partly rebuilt by Sir Albert Richardson.* The S arcade of five bays remained, with early C14 (re-used) arches, but otherwise Perp, and the S clerestory, and of course the W tower. It is a high tower with setback buttresses and pairs of transomed two-light bell-openings. The SEDILIA consist simply of a seat with as its back wall the window above having its jambs and sill taken lower down. - FONT. Square, Norman, of Purbeck marble, painted white. The decoration is intersecting arches. - COMMUNION RAIL. Of c.1640, curving forward. Balusters, and between them sharp pendants.:|: - In the N chapel SPIRAL STAIR by Richardson in a very enjoyable wooden cage. - ARCHITECTURAL FRAGMENTS. Found after the fire. Large parts of the arch of a main doorway with zigzag. - Also E.E. pieces. - STAINED GLASS. In the S chapel window four Flemish (?) roundels. - TAPESTRIES. One large scenic Flemish C17 piece, and one smaller foliage piece with a pelican. They were obtained for the church in 1932 by Sir Albert Richardson. - PLATE. Cup and Cover Paten, inscribed 1609; Plate dated 1609; Paten 1635; C17 Cup and Paten. - BRASSES to a Civilian and his wife, c.1450. Also scrolls. The figures are 19 in. long.
* The consecration took place in 1932
:|: This is the rail for the Lady Chapel.
EATON SOCON. It has a great green, a fine church, and a picturesque old inn to which Charles Dickens brought Mr Squeers and his party in Nicholas Nickleby. It is the church which tells the best story. The village has lost a noble treasure in our time, for the old church was burned down, but it has given itself a marvellous new possession. Hard on the heels of a great calamity has come a mighty inspiration and an achievement probably unparalleled in any English village in our century. In our ten thousand places we remember no 20th century village achievement that can compare with the church of Eaton Socon.
It is like walking into a medieval church made yesterday. Even children here remember the bitter sounding of the great church bells when they crashed from the tower in the fire of 1930. It swept away the wonderful roofs of the nave and chancel, destroyed the fine carved benches and the medieval chancel screen, melted down the ancient glass, and crumpled up the brasses. It gives us something to think of to remember that in an hour all that medieval loveliness could vanish from the eyes of men.
But it is something to think about also that it has risen again, that from its ashes has sprung a new thing worthy of the old, and more than worthy, a great church noble in conception and of exquisite beauty. Our people have not lost their ancient power. Our craftsmen have not lost their touch. The faith that does triumphant things is not yet dead. From the first days after the fire the motto of the vicar and his people was Resurgam, and as the wonderful help to rebuild came along the motto grew from “I Arise” to Resurgo Splendide - “I Arise Gloriously.”
Eaton Socon is the answer for ever to those who say that we are done for. It is like a medieval artist’s dream come true today. For two years the churchyard was a workshop. The ruins of the fire were sorted and such materials as could be used again were numbered and set aside. New stone was brought to be worked on the spot by the most skilled masons available. Oak was brought from Suffolk and worked on the ground with the adze. Never was a happier band of workmen, and they seemed inspired in their great task, which was to replace the whole of this church except the walls of the tower and the chancel which remained, and the south arcade of the nave, which was saved from the fire and seemed, as somebody said, to be held in space while from day to day and from year to year the rebuilding went slowly on.
The men worked as men worked in the old days of the guilds, and the result is what we should expect such work to give the world, a church of great strength with an interior of rich simplicity.
We found carvings of the architect and the builder’s foreman on a corbel, the foreman holding a little model of the church. The architect is shown with his spectacles, as is also the Archdeacon of Bedford on the tower end.
Though 600 years separate their work from the work of the builders of the south arcade, it is hard to say which is which in this great place where all is well and fair and nothing mean. The whole interior is white and light; everything is good to see and can be seen.
The two corners enclosed in oak screens with angels on them are perfectly charming, and in one of them (the choir vestry) rises an oak spiral staircase leading as in olden days to the top of a glorious chancel screen crowned with a carved Crucifixion scene. In the other corner (the south chapel) is a medieval piscina snatched from the fire. The great oak screen is magnificent with fan vaulting, a cornice of grape vines, and angels mounting the doorway. The chancel roof is painted in red and blue with gold bosses, its panelling separated by black and white ropework, and the whole resting on ten lovely corbels. There are ancient brass portraits of an unknown man and woman on the wall, covered with molten lead in the fire but unharmed; and on the floor of the sanctuary is a Tudor brass. The stone reredos is simple and beautiful with Christ on the Cross looking calmly down, clothed and with a kingly crown, angels kneeling on each side of him, Mary with folded hands and John with a chalice, and figures acclaiming Christ the King.
On the chancel walls are two old tapestries, one showing the martyrdom of St Alban and one a pelican feeding its young. There is a fine new priest’s seat with angels on the canopy, and fine 17th century chairs, and standing proudly in front of this beautiful chancel is a carved eagle on which the Bible has been read for 400 years. The Norman font is safe in its place again.
The rich sculptures on the walls, like the reredos, are the work of Mr P. G. Bentham, and no praise of ours can be too high for them. There are choristers singing praises, Truth pulling out the tongue of Scandal, Gluttony and Temperance, the Pipes of Pan, animals fighting, a winged creature crushing a serpent, beautiful heads of women and angels, two choristers singing from one book, and a wise old owl. It is all very like medieval craft, and the sculptor has done what the medieval craftsman did - he has put in stone some people he knew. Here is the Bishop of St Albans who dedicated the church anew. Here is the Archdeacon of Bedford, and here is the vicar of Eaton Socon with his churchwardens. There is a small wall painting of the Madonna by the font, and a small oak figure by. the door in the porch.
Among all this richness the timber roofs stand out with a splendour crowning the whole. Their arches spring from carved stone corbels and the beams rest on open parapet work which is perfectly charming. All six roofs (nave, aisles, chapels, and chancel) have a rare dignity and beauty, and all are new. In the east window of one of the chapels are four medallions of 16th century glass from the continent showing the Ascension and the Annunciation, and another piece of old glass shows the three men in a tub who were saved by St Nicholas. They are at prayer, as if begging for the saint to come to save them. These and a few coats-of-arms are all the stained glass in this church of fine clear windows.
It is pathetic to stand in the corner of the church among the fragments rescued from the fire. There are carvings let into the walls, half an arch, a crumpled-up brass which was recovered from the flames, six clappers of the ancient bells, and part of one bell which still bears an inscription boasting that it is the rose of the world. The half-arch has a remarkable history, for all the stones of which it is made were found separately embedded in the walls which collapsed, and on being brought together they actually formed a half-arch. Another interesting discovery among the ruins was a piece of the old thatch roof embedded in the stone-work. While the tower was burnt out like a chimney this thatch remained intact.
In a glass case is a copy of the Bible, its pages withered in the fire and it seemed odd to us that the last words on the burnt page we saw were that “He shall rend them and cast them down headlong.”
It is hard to feel thankful for adversity, but we cannot help feeling that Eaton Socon has nobly faced misfortune and proved her high spirit. She is no worse today for the catastrophe as far as beauty goes, and she still has the ruin of her old Priory of Bushmead, with a 12th century refectory still standing. It was given to the controller of Wolsey’s household when the monasteries were dissolved. The old house called Basmead has three acres enclosed by a moat in which the water still lies.
One of the great days of Eaton Socon was in 1658, when a well known evangelist came this way. He was John Bunyan, and for his preaching he was arrested here and charged at the assizes with being a witch, a jesuit, and a highwayman. He was found innocent of all three crimes and was released, continuing his career as a highwayman, galloping on his horse about the countryside capturing men’s souls for his Celestial City.
It is like walking into a medieval church made yesterday. Even children here remember the bitter sounding of the great church bells when they crashed from the tower in the fire of 1930. It swept away the wonderful roofs of the nave and chancel, destroyed the fine carved benches and the medieval chancel screen, melted down the ancient glass, and crumpled up the brasses. It gives us something to think of to remember that in an hour all that medieval loveliness could vanish from the eyes of men.
But it is something to think about also that it has risen again, that from its ashes has sprung a new thing worthy of the old, and more than worthy, a great church noble in conception and of exquisite beauty. Our people have not lost their ancient power. Our craftsmen have not lost their touch. The faith that does triumphant things is not yet dead. From the first days after the fire the motto of the vicar and his people was Resurgam, and as the wonderful help to rebuild came along the motto grew from “I Arise” to Resurgo Splendide - “I Arise Gloriously.”
Eaton Socon is the answer for ever to those who say that we are done for. It is like a medieval artist’s dream come true today. For two years the churchyard was a workshop. The ruins of the fire were sorted and such materials as could be used again were numbered and set aside. New stone was brought to be worked on the spot by the most skilled masons available. Oak was brought from Suffolk and worked on the ground with the adze. Never was a happier band of workmen, and they seemed inspired in their great task, which was to replace the whole of this church except the walls of the tower and the chancel which remained, and the south arcade of the nave, which was saved from the fire and seemed, as somebody said, to be held in space while from day to day and from year to year the rebuilding went slowly on.
The men worked as men worked in the old days of the guilds, and the result is what we should expect such work to give the world, a church of great strength with an interior of rich simplicity.
We found carvings of the architect and the builder’s foreman on a corbel, the foreman holding a little model of the church. The architect is shown with his spectacles, as is also the Archdeacon of Bedford on the tower end.
Though 600 years separate their work from the work of the builders of the south arcade, it is hard to say which is which in this great place where all is well and fair and nothing mean. The whole interior is white and light; everything is good to see and can be seen.
The two corners enclosed in oak screens with angels on them are perfectly charming, and in one of them (the choir vestry) rises an oak spiral staircase leading as in olden days to the top of a glorious chancel screen crowned with a carved Crucifixion scene. In the other corner (the south chapel) is a medieval piscina snatched from the fire. The great oak screen is magnificent with fan vaulting, a cornice of grape vines, and angels mounting the doorway. The chancel roof is painted in red and blue with gold bosses, its panelling separated by black and white ropework, and the whole resting on ten lovely corbels. There are ancient brass portraits of an unknown man and woman on the wall, covered with molten lead in the fire but unharmed; and on the floor of the sanctuary is a Tudor brass. The stone reredos is simple and beautiful with Christ on the Cross looking calmly down, clothed and with a kingly crown, angels kneeling on each side of him, Mary with folded hands and John with a chalice, and figures acclaiming Christ the King.
On the chancel walls are two old tapestries, one showing the martyrdom of St Alban and one a pelican feeding its young. There is a fine new priest’s seat with angels on the canopy, and fine 17th century chairs, and standing proudly in front of this beautiful chancel is a carved eagle on which the Bible has been read for 400 years. The Norman font is safe in its place again.
The rich sculptures on the walls, like the reredos, are the work of Mr P. G. Bentham, and no praise of ours can be too high for them. There are choristers singing praises, Truth pulling out the tongue of Scandal, Gluttony and Temperance, the Pipes of Pan, animals fighting, a winged creature crushing a serpent, beautiful heads of women and angels, two choristers singing from one book, and a wise old owl. It is all very like medieval craft, and the sculptor has done what the medieval craftsman did - he has put in stone some people he knew. Here is the Bishop of St Albans who dedicated the church anew. Here is the Archdeacon of Bedford, and here is the vicar of Eaton Socon with his churchwardens. There is a small wall painting of the Madonna by the font, and a small oak figure by. the door in the porch.
Among all this richness the timber roofs stand out with a splendour crowning the whole. Their arches spring from carved stone corbels and the beams rest on open parapet work which is perfectly charming. All six roofs (nave, aisles, chapels, and chancel) have a rare dignity and beauty, and all are new. In the east window of one of the chapels are four medallions of 16th century glass from the continent showing the Ascension and the Annunciation, and another piece of old glass shows the three men in a tub who were saved by St Nicholas. They are at prayer, as if begging for the saint to come to save them. These and a few coats-of-arms are all the stained glass in this church of fine clear windows.
It is pathetic to stand in the corner of the church among the fragments rescued from the fire. There are carvings let into the walls, half an arch, a crumpled-up brass which was recovered from the flames, six clappers of the ancient bells, and part of one bell which still bears an inscription boasting that it is the rose of the world. The half-arch has a remarkable history, for all the stones of which it is made were found separately embedded in the walls which collapsed, and on being brought together they actually formed a half-arch. Another interesting discovery among the ruins was a piece of the old thatch roof embedded in the stone-work. While the tower was burnt out like a chimney this thatch remained intact.
In a glass case is a copy of the Bible, its pages withered in the fire and it seemed odd to us that the last words on the burnt page we saw were that “He shall rend them and cast them down headlong.”
It is hard to feel thankful for adversity, but we cannot help feeling that Eaton Socon has nobly faced misfortune and proved her high spirit. She is no worse today for the catastrophe as far as beauty goes, and she still has the ruin of her old Priory of Bushmead, with a 12th century refectory still standing. It was given to the controller of Wolsey’s household when the monasteries were dissolved. The old house called Basmead has three acres enclosed by a moat in which the water still lies.
One of the great days of Eaton Socon was in 1658, when a well known evangelist came this way. He was John Bunyan, and for his preaching he was arrested here and charged at the assizes with being a witch, a jesuit, and a highwayman. He was found innocent of all three crimes and was released, continuing his career as a highwayman, galloping on his horse about the countryside capturing men’s souls for his Celestial City.
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