ST LAWRENCE. 1838 by William Mason of Ipswich. Quite remarkably original. An octagonal church of white brick, in the lancet style. Groups of five stepped lancets on three sides, entrances on two others, and three lancets above the altar. - MONUMENT. Elizabeth Marshall D. 1613. Frontally seated woman, full-length, flanked by obelisks. Below in the ‘predella’ one kneeling daughter and two babies in cradles. Long inscription which reads as follows:
Clotho: In tender armes thy tickle rocke I beare
Wherin consists of life this hemispher
Frayle flyinge fadeinge fickle sliperye
Certaine in nothing but uncertaintye
Lachesis: From of thy rocke her slender thred I pull
When scarce begun but yt my spoole is full
Then tyme begetts bringes forth & with her haste
Makes after tyme tymes former workes to waste
Atropos: I with my knife have cutt that thred in twayne
And loosde that knott not to be knitt agayne
What two wer one my knife hath both opposd
In heaven her soule in earth her corpes inclosd.
The verses are attributed to Gilbert Longe, then vicar of East Donyland.
EAST DONYLAND. It is an old village running down a slope to the compact little hamlet of Rowhedge on the tide-swept banks of the River Colne. Ships are built on its quay, and small yachts moored in its creeks. But in this old place is no ancient church, only a modern one built of brick, its pews curving on an octagonal floor so that it looks like a chapter house. From the church that has vanished comes the brass portrait of Nicholas Marshall and his wife of Charles Stuart’s day; we are told of his wife that she surrendered her soul "with alacrity of spirit." A neighbour they must have known, Elizabeth Marshall, sits with hand upraised expounding from a book, a sculpture in marble.
Simon K -
I headed eastwards from Berechurch into the parish of East Donyland. This exists in name only, there is no village, just a hall, but in the 19th Century there grew up on the south bank of the Colne the township of Rowhedge.
I was suprised that the road signs suggested that I head back into central Colchester and then out again, when my map clearly showed a lane leading directly across to the place, but this turned out to be a gated road, the gate with a sign saying 'This gate is closed when Live Firing is taking place'. Fortunately it was open, although there were more warning signs all the way along the verge.
I eventually came to St Lawrence. Locked, no keyholder notice. The sign outside says 'Parish of East Donyland'.
The setting is wholly urban, the churchyard surrounded by 19th century terraced streets punctuated by the surprise of wooden sail lofts.
Now, I'm not saying that I would not have gone inside had it been open, but the significant thing here is the architecture, for unusually this is an octagonal church in white brick of 1838, wholly un-ecclesiological but, as you see by the date, just Victorian. The architect was William Mason of Ipswich. It looks extremely odd, like an eastern temple shoehorned into a 19th Century housing estate. It was hard to work out which way was east without an apse.
I knew I was now entering an area of fearsomely locked churches, and I would have liked to have seen inside, but I was glad I'd seen the exterior. I wandered down to the Quayside, a lovely area of 18th and 19th Century buildings, albeit with some modern apartments, and people sitting outside pubs on the waterside.
A few hundred yards down river on the opposite bank is Wivenhoe, with people sitting outside the pub there. If I had waved to them they would probably have waved back, and it where I was bound, but it would take me nearly ten miles to cycle to get it.
Flickr.
Simon K -
I headed eastwards from Berechurch into the parish of East Donyland. This exists in name only, there is no village, just a hall, but in the 19th Century there grew up on the south bank of the Colne the township of Rowhedge.
I was suprised that the road signs suggested that I head back into central Colchester and then out again, when my map clearly showed a lane leading directly across to the place, but this turned out to be a gated road, the gate with a sign saying 'This gate is closed when Live Firing is taking place'. Fortunately it was open, although there were more warning signs all the way along the verge.
I eventually came to St Lawrence. Locked, no keyholder notice. The sign outside says 'Parish of East Donyland'.
The setting is wholly urban, the churchyard surrounded by 19th century terraced streets punctuated by the surprise of wooden sail lofts.
Now, I'm not saying that I would not have gone inside had it been open, but the significant thing here is the architecture, for unusually this is an octagonal church in white brick of 1838, wholly un-ecclesiological but, as you see by the date, just Victorian. The architect was William Mason of Ipswich. It looks extremely odd, like an eastern temple shoehorned into a 19th Century housing estate. It was hard to work out which way was east without an apse.
I knew I was now entering an area of fearsomely locked churches, and I would have liked to have seen inside, but I was glad I'd seen the exterior. I wandered down to the Quayside, a lovely area of 18th and 19th Century buildings, albeit with some modern apartments, and people sitting outside pubs on the waterside.
A few hundred yards down river on the opposite bank is Wivenhoe, with people sitting outside the pub there. If I had waved to them they would probably have waved back, and it where I was bound, but it would take me nearly ten miles to cycle to get it.
Flickr.
No comments:
Post a Comment