There are three churches of medieval origin in St Albans: St Michael's, St Stephen's and St Peter's. The latter is the most prominently sited one, about half a mile north east of the Abbey/Cathedral, at one end of a major commercial street. It's a pity, then, that St Peter's is the least interesting of the three, and that it's generally locked. I've tried its door many times over the years, and only recently succeeded in gaining entry (there was a sale of Christmas cards at the time).
Externally the church is mostly Victorian, the work of Edmund Beckett (1816-1905), 1st Baron Grimthorpe, in 1893-5. His restorations (many would place 'restorations' in quotation marks) at the Abbey/Cathedral are well known (he worked at St Michael's too); he wasn't a trained architect and his additions and alterations have remained largely unloved (though in his defence the buildings he worked on were in a poor state of repair, and he spent enormous sums of his own money on them). His contributions to St Peter's are generally rather bland and characterless - for example, the western rose window, in principle an excellent idea, is insubstantial-looking - but certainly not as forceful as those to the Abbey/Cathedral.
There must have been a Saxon church on this site, and it must have been rebuilt and updated over the centuries, but nothing earlier than the 15th century survives (above ground, anyway). The only pre-Victorian works visible externally are the Perpendicular south windows and the brick tower from 1801-3, which replaced the medieval original; the buttresses and pinnacles are Grimthorpe's.
However, internally the tall, slender 15th century piers of the nave arcades dominate, and help to create a feeling of light and spaciousness.
There are a few original label stops on the doors, and there's a complete set of angel corbels, now brightly coloured and no longer supporting anything. (It's possible that they were painted when new, but the current colouring must be fairly recent.) One of them isn't an angel at all, but seems to be shouting angrily across the nave.
The south aisle windows are mostly full of stained glass by the Belgian Jean-Baptiste Capronnier (1814-91), from 1867-72, illustrating parables. I like the canopies, but the scenes themselves are too much like paintings and the colours too acidic. Their overall effect is overwhelming, but not in a good way.
Much better are the numerous fragments of late medieval glass which have been collected in the north aisle. There's one complete image, of a Pelican in its Piety, different in style to and possibly later than the other collections. Several of them look at first glance as if they're complete scenes, but closer examination suggests that in fact they're only intelligently assembled jumbles. Nevertheless, it's worth examining them in detail. For example, the fourth from the left shows an intelligent-looking chap with a slightly sardonic smile peering out from underneath an architectural canopy.
Near them is a window from 1918 made by Powell & Sons, and designed by Louis Davis (1860-1941). Davis was a pupil of Christopher Whall, whose work is found in several Hertfordshire churches, for example Preston and Sarratt. He (Davis) is celebrated for his use of colour, but this particular window is sombre, with dark greens and browns predominating. The subject matter isn't clear (at least to me): on the left a youth with a large sword bows before an altar, in the middle an angel appears to motion to a young man to put up (that is, put down) his sword, and on the right a feminine-looking angel holds a chalice and makes the sign of blessing. Probably the window refers to the end of the First World War.
The west (rose) window is from as late as 1922, but looks as if it could have been made half a century or more earlier. It's surprisingly good, and is by Burlison and Grylls (who had both trained with Clayton and Bell, whose work I highlight whenever I can in these posts). There's an Annunciation in the centre, and various other small scenes around it, for example three scenes of bearded men sacrificing at an altar, including Noah on the bottom right.
There aren't many notable monuments; the most interesting is to Edward Strong (d.1723) who was the master mason during the rebuilding of St Paul's Cathedral (which the inscription calls 'that Stupendous Fabrick'). He worked during the entire 33 years of the construction (1675-1708) (though work continued after that date too).
In recent years there's been a movement to make churches, especially town churches, capable of being used more flexibly by levelling their floors and clearing out all or most of the Victorian pews. Examples in the county include Stevenage and Watford. Some people get very hot under the collar about pews being thrown out; I've explained my thoughts on the subject before, and no doubt no one is interested in them anyway, so I won't repeat myself. There's a brief article on the reordering at St Peter's here, and some photographs of the church before the alterations can be found on Andrew Wood's astoundingly comprehensive site Hertfordshire Churches in Photographs. The old Victorian concrete floor of the church was damp, and threatening the integrity of the fifteenth century piers, so there was a sound rationale behind digging it up and replacing it, and the new floor is attractive and tasteful. Given that the church was subject to so many alterations by Grimthorpe it's hard to see why anyone would object (though no doubt some will).
No comments:
Post a Comment