Looking through his set I'm not sure I would have warmed to the interior but the glass looks good of its kind and the Suffer the children rondel looks very good. Such are the vagaries of this transitory life.
ST LEONARD. c. 1854 by C. Hakewill, with some fragments of the medieval church kept. Nave, chancel, and odd, diagonally placed bellcote, the W corner resting on a central W buttress. - COMMUNION RAIL. Late C17, with sturdy twisted balusters. - PLATE. Elizabethan Cup and Paten; Paten of 1683.
BEAUMONT-WITH-MOZE. It is set on a hill rising from a creek between Walton and Harwich, and a lane brings us to a fine little group of long ago - the red-tiled barns, the timbered house with charming Dutch gables, and the little church with the bellcot guarded by four angels. The chancel walls, a doorway, and a buttress or two, are 600 years old; the altar and the altar rails are 18th century. From the hill on which this small church stands is a splendid view seaward of the salt marshes worked in Norman days, and we may think that from those days till now no braver man has come this way than one who sleeps here.
He was Lord Byng, who died in 1935 one of the heroes of our race, as famous in the Empire as in the Motherland. He it was who led the Canadians to victory in the Great War, and his name will be for ever associated with Vimy Ridge. He had a great share in the final victory in France, and played his part in the years after the war as Governor-General of Canada and as Chief Commissioner of Police. He reorganised the London Police Force and suppressed many evils in the social life of the Metropolis.
One little tale we heard of him in this village where he sleeps and where he used sometimes to worship. During the war he was walking alone down a road which was being shelled when he found a sergeant treating a horse with great cruelty. Lord Byng was wearing a raincoat, and was without the braided cap which would have advertised him as a Brass Hat. He did not want deference just then; he wanted to see things from a subordinate’s point of view. When he spoke to the sergeant about his ill-usage of the horse the man said that the brute would not come along. Lord Byng replied that the horse was terrified of the shells. “You get it down the road yourself,” said the angry sergeant.
Lord Byng loved horses. He calmed this one and made it feel, in the magical way some men have, that it was safe with him, and then he led it down the road. But his care for the ill-used horse did not end when he handed it over, trembling and foam-flecked, at the end of the road, for he saw that the brutal sergeant was removed to an infantry unit where he would have nothing to do with animals.
He was Lord Byng, who died in 1935 one of the heroes of our race, as famous in the Empire as in the Motherland. He it was who led the Canadians to victory in the Great War, and his name will be for ever associated with Vimy Ridge. He had a great share in the final victory in France, and played his part in the years after the war as Governor-General of Canada and as Chief Commissioner of Police. He reorganised the London Police Force and suppressed many evils in the social life of the Metropolis.
One little tale we heard of him in this village where he sleeps and where he used sometimes to worship. During the war he was walking alone down a road which was being shelled when he found a sergeant treating a horse with great cruelty. Lord Byng was wearing a raincoat, and was without the braided cap which would have advertised him as a Brass Hat. He did not want deference just then; he wanted to see things from a subordinate’s point of view. When he spoke to the sergeant about his ill-usage of the horse the man said that the brute would not come along. Lord Byng replied that the horse was terrified of the shells. “You get it down the road yourself,” said the angry sergeant.
Lord Byng loved horses. He calmed this one and made it feel, in the magical way some men have, that it was safe with him, and then he led it down the road. But his care for the ill-used horse did not end when he handed it over, trembling and foam-flecked, at the end of the road, for he saw that the brutal sergeant was removed to an infantry unit where he would have nothing to do with animals.
Flickr.
Simon K.
This church is open every day, said the notice. There are some fascinating art nouveau memorials in
the churchyard to the east. The church was entirely rebuilt in an
extraordinary manner towards the end of the 19th Century, though it
looked later, very idiosyncratic with a riot of a bell turret with
carved angels and the like.
The interior is a delicious, all-of-a-piece late Victorian extravaganza. The rebuilding was bankrolled by the Byng family. Lord Byng of Vimy was a Knight of the Garter, and his standard hangs inside the church.
Some excellent early 20th century glass. I liked it a lot, and said so in the visitors book.
This is in a benefice with Tendring and Little Bentley. I visited Little Bentley in 2011 and found it open, so this gave me hopes for Tendring.
Simon K.
Open. In the grounds of Beaumont Hall. Moze lost its church after the
Reformation, and so this church serves both villages in a joint
parish.
The interior is a delicious, all-of-a-piece late Victorian extravaganza. The rebuilding was bankrolled by the Byng family. Lord Byng of Vimy was a Knight of the Garter, and his standard hangs inside the church.
Some excellent early 20th century glass. I liked it a lot, and said so in the visitors book.
This is in a benefice with Tendring and Little Bentley. I visited Little Bentley in 2011 and found it open, so this gave me hopes for Tendring.
Buoyed up by an open church, I headed southwards to the largest place
on the Tendring peninsula which is not on the coast, Thorpe-le-Soken.
I'm guessing you must've been there at the wrong time because although I didn't see the "This church is open every day" sign, it most definitely WAS open today.
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