Church architecture in Hertfordshire and elsewhere, art, books, and whatever crosses my path

Tuesday, 9 September 2025

Codicote church, Herts


Old Codicote strings itself along the Welwyn-Hitchin road (B656), but the church is some distance from the main settlement, with modern estates to its west and open farmland to its north and east. St Giles does have ancient origins, but is mostly an early work (1852-3) of Joseph Clarke (1819-88), who is best known in the county for Apsley End church


It is said to have been consecrated by the Bishop of Rochester in c.1111, but nothing recognisably survives from that century, unless (as the National Churches Trust website and the Statutory Listing suggest) the iron strapwork on the south door dates from then; Bettley/Pevsner more plausibly propose that only the central strap dates from a major rebuilding which took place in the 13th century, and that the other two are good Victorian copies. The other surviving original features are the 13th century bases to the piers of the south arcade and the lancet window in the nave, and the tower, including its arch to the nave, and the clerestory are 15th century, though much restored.



There's one curious wooden carving in the church. Bettley/Pevsner don't mention it, but I assume it's a late medieval bench end. It's known as the Old Dog and is said to have the head of a baboon, the ears of a bat, the tail of a lion, the mane of a horse and the legs of a goat. My photos are rather poor; there's a better one here in which it's seen from the right, which reveals that it has a collar and chain too. 




The pulpit is the most notable fixture; the Statutory Listing calls it Jacobean with which I'm sure most visitors would concur, but the more knowledgable eyes of Bettley/Pevsner ascribe it to the late16th century, in which case it's Elizabethan. I wish I was sufficiently knowledgeable to be able to explain the subtle stylistic differences between the two periods. The pretty backboard with Gothic tracery must be Victorian.

There's several Victorian and 20th century stained glass windows.


East window, 1864. The Good Shepherd, and Suffer Little Children. Anonymous; I'd suggest Michael O'Connor.



The Three Maries at the Tomb, 1868, anonymous.




St Patrick and St John, by M.C.Farrar Bell, 1946.


Abraham, Sarah, Joseph, Mary, Jacob and Rachel, 1875, attributed to Clayton & Bell.


Angels and St Michael, by Kempe, 1895. I'm usually allergic to Kempe, but I must admit this one isn't bad.



Sts Giles and St Albans, by A.A. Orr, 1912.


Treasure hid in a field (Matthew 13)


The seed growing secrets (Mark 4).


The mustard seed (Matthew 13).


The sower (Matthew 13).

The best windows are to be found in the porch, and date from 1968. They're by Agnes Charles (1906-88). She studied in the Royal Academy Schools (1930), and ran a studio and business in Codicote called St Crispin's Glass. The windows are sophisticatedly naive, colourful and full of personality. In nearly all stained glass each piece of glass is surrounded and held in place by a lead came, but here each individual glass fragment is really small, and it would look ridiculous if each one was leaded, though some assemblages are. Instead most pieces are I assume glued together. The result is something like a mosaic or a collage, and the effect is pleasingly slightly ramshackle with a handmade feel.


Charles was also responsible for the painted plaster angels over the chancel arch.


In the churchyard is a modern memorial to John Gootheridge who died and was buried in 1824, but was reburied a week later. This was because his corpse was dug up by body-snatchers who were providing specimens for medical students to study anatomy. Buried bodies were not considered property, but in this case Gootheridge's body was retrieved, and the resurrectionists, as they were known, have bestowed a kind of immortality on him as his name survives far more prominently than that of most others who died then.

Codicote church is usually locked.


'Michael's burial from the time of Henry VIII'. I've been unable to discover the story behind this.









Sheep in the churchyard





Tuesday, 12 August 2025

Icknield Indagations 10th anniversary

I've just noticed that I've missed the 10th anniversary of my first post on Icknield Indagations, on 4th August 2015. Since then I've written 196 posts, an average of nearly twenty each year, though my productivity has fallen off dramatically since 2022. The blog's page views is also approaching a milestone - 328,314 as I write, in other words coming up to a third of a million. (But it's salutary to remember that this is page views - I assume that every time one of my posts appears on someone's screen even for a second it counts as a view, so if they scroll through the site hoping and failing to find something they want to read that can count as a dozen or so views even if they've read nothing at all. The count is of VIEWS, not reads, let alone readers.)


Here's the page views graph. As you can see, for the first three years almost no one looked at the blog, and even fewer presumably read it. A glimmer of interest began to twinkle in 2019, but summer 2020 was when it took off; I assume that lockdown had something to do with this. The reason for those two sudden peaks in summer 23? Beats me.

My top twenty most viewed posts:

1. The Lucas Hospital, Wokingham, Berks This was the number one five years ago when I first compiled a list like this. Why it still gets so many more views than the other posts I don't know; it's a fairly obscure subject.

2. An Edward Bawden calendar 1930 Bawden is a popular artist, and this is one of his lesser-known works, so I'm glad this gets attention.

 3. T H White's 'The Sword in the Stone' When I started writing this blog I assumed that I'd write about books quite often, which hasn't proved to be the case. 'The Sword in the Stone' is a popular book, and this post supplies information not easily available elsewhere.

4. The Singular History of the Double Entendre This took quite a lot of work and it's a subject I'm very fond of, so I'm glad that it's found a readership.

5. Pampisford church, Cambs My most popular church-related post (though very far from the best or most interesting).

6. The Arden Shakespeares 2nd series Another rare book-related post, though chiefly concerned with the covers. Since writing it the Arden 3rd series has been completed, and so all the 2nd series which I collected so assiduously over the years have gone from my shelves (I'd like to have kept them, but not enough space) and been replaced by the 3rd series. I think I can safely say that the covers are not in general an improvement.

7. Waterford church, Herts At last, a post about a Herts church, which I still regard as being the blog's chief raison d'etre. The wonderful PreRaphaelite stained glass is presumably what brings people to this one.

8. The Grimes Graves Venus Archaeology is another thing I intended to write about, and except for this one post I haven't. I'm glad it gets viewers as I quite like it, and again it contains information not easily otherwise obtainable.

9. Felmersham church Beds Another non-Herts church. Peculiar medieval carvings in churches (especially apparently sexual ones) is another subject I'm especially interested in, and the corbel that forms the subject of this post isn't well known.

10. Letchworth church, Herts My second most popular Herts church post. Why this one? No idea.

11. A Victorian eccentric Another post I'm particularly pleased with on a subject that deserves to be better known.

12. Ayot St Lawrence church, Herts The country's first Greek Revival church, so this deserves a readership.

13. Eric Forbes-Robertson I'd like to write more about obscure late nineteenth/early twentieth century painters.

14. John Collier My only other post on an obscure painter (though not as obscure as EFR).

15. Wallington church, Herts Presumably the George Orwell connection brings people to this.

16. Clothall church, Herts One of my favourite churches, with the stained glass birds.

17. The Wantage Novel Library A one-off post.

18. Mosaic tiles Another under-explored subject.

19. Inigo Jones' screen for Winchester Cathedral

20. Kenny Wheeler's 'Sweet Time Suite' Jazz is another thing I'd like to write about more, and maybe will.

Lastly, three posts that I wish had more readers:

The Ely octagon

Zoom Theatre Experiments With links to three short plays I wrote during or soon after Covid.

The Saunders monument in Flamstead church, Herts


Sunday, 10 August 2025

Gipping chapel (church), Suffolk

This was originally the chapel of nearby Gipping* Hall (which was demolished in the nineteenth century), home of the Tyrell family. James Tyrell (b. c.1455) was a supporter of the Yorkist cause and thus of the Duke of Gloucester (later Richard III); he fought for Edward IV at the Battle of Tewkesbury in 1471, and was then knighted by the King. He built the chapel in about 1474-80. When Richard III seized power in 1483 he was rewarded for his loyalty by being appointed the High Sheriff of Cornwall, and later the Lieutenant of Guines (part of Calais, at that time an English possession). Sir James has long been suspected of arranging the deaths (following the King's orders) of the Princes in the Tower (the twelve year old King Edward V and his younger brother, the Duke of York), though this is far from certain.

Surprisingly, after the Battle of Bosworth in 1485, in which Richard was killed (and Sir James didn't fight, being in France), when the Lancastrian Henry VII came to the throne he pardoned Sir James and reappointed him to the French post. He must have kept his nose clean for sixteen years, but in 1501 he threw in his lot with the Yorkist claimant to the throne, Edward de la Pole, the Duke of Suffolk. This didn't go well for him because he was arrested for treason, and eventually beheaded in 1502. (His father had been beheaded in 1462 for allegedly plotting to murder Edward IV.)

The chapel comprises a nave and chancel, plus a northern room leading from the chancel, a vestry and/or living quarters for the chaplain, built a decade or so later. An inscription over this room's doorway reads 'PRAY FOR SIR JAMYS TIRELL: ANNE HIS WYF' .


The tower was added c.1600, and it is widely agreed that it seriously detracts from the visual impact of the rest of the chapel; this is largely because it is cement-rendered in a horribly drab colour. It's very likely that the render is covering up some attractive brickwork.

The chapel itself provides a wonderful display of flushwork, in which dark (almost black) knapped and shaped flint is contrasted with creamy limestone; the walls are mostly chequerwork while in some places, such as above the south door, there are more complex patterns - little quatrefoils, for example. 


The most extraordinary example of this is found in the north wall of the 'vestry', where there's what appears to be a 'bricked up' (actually 'flinted up', of course) oriel window. In fact it's never been a window, and is actually - and at least a little bizarrely - a chimney. At its base there are some elaborate panels, including, in the centre, a pattern like a geometrically-constructed face within a wreath, and at the top some heraldry. Above the 'window' is the chimney's vent. (On the west side of the vestry is a 'genuine' bricked up window.)





The buttresses (those at the east end are octagonal) have flushwork panelled tracery, and various small carvings, notably the Tyrells' 'logo', a device consisting of three interlinked semicircles making something like a three-petalled flower (a reference to the Trinity), known as the 'Tyrell knot', which is found throughout the building. The letters AMLA also occur, probably a reference to Anne Arundel, Sir James' wife (her middle names were Morley Lanherne), or the phrase 'Ave Maria Laetare Alleluia' (Hail Mary, rejoice, God be praised!'). The Arundel hearts also appears, consisting of an upside down heart superimposed upon one the right way up. 


Externally the chapel is a little late Perpendicular masterpiece - the 'little' here is important as the style works best on a small scale, and gets repetitive and wearing very quickly when it's big.** The interior doesn't disappoint. There are ten big windows, all but one filled with plain glass, so the light bursts in. 





The furnishings are unostentatious. There are some 15th century benches at the west - one has the Tyrell knot carved on its end - and the rest are mostly Georgian, which were painted in 1970. Painting old woodwork is generally to be avoided, but I think it works well here, giving a unity to the interior, complementing the white walls and brick floor.


The vestry is a little disappointing - nothing much to see except the fireplace with its Tudor arch, and when I visited blocked by stacked chairs (the chapel seems perfectly sufficiently supplied with benches - where are these chairs put when they're needed?). Could this ever have been the living quarters of a chaplain, or anyone else? 


Originally some, or perhaps all, of the windows would have had stained glass, which would have been smashed by iconoclasts in the 1530s and 40s or the 1640s and 50s. (Or possibly some of them could have been removed and hidden by the Tyrells when they feared that their windows were in the firing line, which might explain why some of the figures are fairly complete.) What survived dates from c.1500 and was gathered together in the east window in 1938-9.

Peacock feathers and a boar's head from the Tyrells' crest.

On the right an extravagantly lachrymose female saint, probably Mary from a Crucifixion scene.

In the centre shields held by small hands, displaying the Instruments of the Passion: the Crown of Thorns, the Five Wounds, two whips, three nails, and vinegar-soaked sponge and lance.

On the left a weeping male saint, probably St John. On the right a few details can be discerned: a trumpet being blown by an angel (whose hand and wing are visible), and at the very bottom a small head, possibly female, with long blonde hair and wearing a crown-like headdress. 

Two bishop saints, both carrying, and evidently closely studying, books. The head of the figure on the right looks like a poor restoration. Above their heads, within the canopies, are depictions of parts of Perpendicular windows much like Gipping's. 

A king saint, probably Edward the Confessor. 



On first entering the chapel you might spot what seems to be a cupboard for hymn books etc next to the pulpit - a slightly odd place to put it, you might think. It's a pleasant surprise to find that in fact it's a very ingeniously designed (by Peter Bumpstead) compact organ (1994), exactly right for the space.






I've left my favourite feature until last. In 1743 the chapel was refurbished (many of the fittings date from that time); Gothic architecture was then generally regarded as barbaric and barely civilised, and it wasn't uncommon for attempts to be made to classicise (and thus civilise) medieval buildings. In Gipping's case this was done by having fictive classical columns, entwined by curtains, and drapery painted around the east window. Such attempted updatings were probably quite common, though many of them would have been removed during the 19th century's Gothic Revival, so Gipping's example is a rare survival. It is charmingly naive both in conception and execution.

Gipping chapel is open during the day.


* Don't ask me if it's pronounced with a hard or soft 'g'. 

** http://www.icknieldindagations.com/2018/11/spot-difference-why-i-dont-like-kings.html

http://www.suffolkchurches.co.uk/gipping.htm

https://historicengland.org.uk/listing/the-list/list-entry/1352278?section=official-list-entry