The Ancient Site of Tinkinswood

My first visit to this site was on a wet, cold, November day. I had read about this place previously, and arranged a small side excursion while I was out visiting churches in Wales. It really is a special place, very quiet, very atmospheric. But one of the things I love is the mixture of features above and below ground, and the ever growing story about what occurred at this site.
Built roughly 6000 years ago, Tinkinswood stands tucked away in a field (like most interesting sites to visit). The structure is considered to be of the Severn-Cotswold type. The site itself has a large capstone and uprights, a forecourt, and a barrow. The capstone is particularly special as it’s the largest in Britain, weighing in at roughly 40 tonnes (estimations say it would take 200 people to lift it!).
The chamber and external walls, which are now exposed, would have originally been under a mound of earth, but its exposure gives us good idea of how it would have looked while at the same time demonstrating how the internal structure worked and was used. Standing back from the site, or looking at drawings depicting an aerial view, you can see that there are two rounded horns on either side of the chamber entrance. The chamber itself rests in the northeast corner and is in the shape of a trapezoid.
Excavations have revealed that the site may have been visited or in use longer than previously thought! The neolithic chamber was used in the bronze age as a barrow, and the remains of 21 women, 16 men, and 8 children were found inside, along with pottery and worked flint. However, the most exciting thing found (in my opinion anyway) at Tinkinswood is the discovery of a Roman coin and other relics in 2010-2011. Up until recently the story of Tinkinswood as an active site for burial and ritual ended in the bronze age, but these new discoveries show that the site was in use during the Roman era as well – long after the barrow had been closed.
When visiting it’s hard not to notice the small brick pillar in the chamber which was installed during the 1914 excavation carried out by John Ward. It’s there to support the massive capstone and does it’s job despite looking horrifically out of place. The external walls also pop out as they were re-done in a very distinct herringbone pattern – which again, would not have been how they originally looked at all. But overall it’s certainly a site that I’d recommend visiting if you can get there! Just be certain you never spend the night on the eve of May Day, St. John’s Day, or Midwinter Day – allegedly whoever does so either dies, goes mad, or becomes a poet….not sure what that says about poets….
For much more detailed information about Tinkinswood check out these sites:

Wren, ‘Beautification’, and the Blitz: The Dome of St. Mary Abchurch

Like many churches, St. Mary Abchurch perished in the Great Fire of London in 1666. It would not be rebuilt by Christopher Wren until almost 15 years later with construction taking place from 1681-1686. A real treasure chest of woodwork, and considered to be one of the only ‘unspoiled’ examples of Wren’s work left in the City, Mary Abchurch should certainly be on your list to pop into if you have the chance.

Mary Abchurch

A rare glance at St. Mary Abchurch (usually hidden by buildings)

At first glance from the outside, the church is a regular, red-brick, square-shaped building. Inside, however, is a dome hidden from external view with paintings from the early 18th century. The dome is 40 feet in diameter, and built with no external thrusts or supports with its weight distributed between the walls of the church. Appearances are deceiving, and it’s important to note the dome itself is made of plaster and a wooden frame which is in turn covered by a roof. The dome is illuminated by four circular windows which causes the church to seem much larger than it really is, a design choice that hearkens back to Wren’s love of using open spaces and natural light in his buildings.

The dome was not painted until 1708 when a request for ‘beautification’ was made. The paintings first show up in records in 1714, and are widely assumed to have been part of this effort. Sources argue over if they were done by Sir James Thornhill or William Snow – though Snow (a parishioner) is often credited with the work as there is documentary evidence of him being paid by the church, while no such evidence exists for Thornhill.

The Dome

Once again, my camera stinks, but with the windows this is a tough thing to photograph on a good day!

The oil paintings inside the dome itself depict worship in heaven, with the name of God in Hebrew in gold at the center. Angels and cherubs singing and playing musical instruments feature in the more central part of the dome. While at first glance it seems that there are two levels to the structure, a second glance shows the dome is cleverly painted using a forced perspective technique to give the illusion of layers. The eight stone-like figures below are regularly assumed to represent Christian virtues, though there is no documentary evidence with respect to their identities.


Statue-esque paintings of (possibly) the virtues

The dome was almost completely lost in 1940 during the Blitz when a bomb went off nearby and much of the plaster was damaged. If you visit the church today, a photograph of the dome pre-restoration sits near the font showing the extent of the damage. The plaster that had not been completely destroyed had to be taken down, cleaned and then put back in its original place. After this new plaster had to be added and painted to match the rest of the dome. It’s estimated that at least 75% of the current dome is original thanks to the meticulously done restoration work, with only a few cherubs and portions of angels needing to be replaced completely.

If you do visit, be sure to note some of the other treasures in the church as well: carvings by Grinling Gibbons, a case of artifacts from the church, and the stained glass window dedicated to the Fruiterers.

More Info:
Wren’s City of London Churches – John Christopher
Wren’s Domes – Jacques Heyman in Proceedings of the First Conference of the Construction History Society (2014).
The Painted Dome of St. Mary Abchurch – Eric Smith in Transactions of the London and Middlesex Archaeological Society Vol. 19

St. Andrew by the Wardrobe

Tucked away on the busy Queen Victoria Street and up a decently steep flight of steps (which double as coveted al freso lunchtime seating…) lies the reconstructed church of St. Andrew by the Wardrobe. A place of worship has been recorded here since the late 12C (originally known as St. Andrew juxta Baynard’s castle),  but the Great Fire of London and the Blitz have ensured that this building is of Wren design on the outside and completely reconstructed on the inside. This was the last of Wren’s City parish churches, and is often overlooked in favour of some of his more opulent works.

St. Andrew by the Wardrobe

St. Andrew by the Wardrobe

St. Andrew was originally quite close (obviously) to the now lost Castle Baynard. The castle itself was present from the time of the Norman Conquest until the Great Fire, though now it survives in memory only as the name of one of the wards in the City of London. The small church changed its name when the kings stores were moved to the then newly built wardrobe in the 14C – hence the current name ‘by the Wardrobe’. The wardrobe (as it was more of a department than just a building) was responsible for the purchase and storage of the fine fabrics and ceremonial garments for the king. The wardrobe also granted cloth to various members of the court and people of status for use in processions – in 1604 a grant of ‘red scarlet cloth’ was granted to Shakespeare for the coronation procession of James I. The kings wardrobe was moved from this area in 1666 following the Great Fire, its commemorative plaque can be seen at 5 Wardrobe Place. After the Great Fire, Wren rebuilt St. Andrew by the Wardrobe from 1685-1694.

In 1940 the church was gutted in the Blitz and all but three of the fittings (a sword rest and two monuments) were destroyed. The current building was finished in 1961 by Marshall Sisson – who used Wren’s original plans to reconstruct and redecorate the interior. The collection of furnishings are an interesting selection of items from various other churches. The font, font cover, and pulpit are all originally from St. Matthew Friday Street and the royal arms are from St. Olave Jewry. The beautiful west stained glass window showing the conversion of St. Paul by Joshua Price was originally designed for Bulstrode Park. Though the most overlooked and yet interesting items collected here are the two wooden figures – one of St. Andrew from roughly 1600, and another of St. Ann – the mother of the Virgin Mary seen holding Mary who is in turn holding the Christ child from roughly 1500.

Perhaps the most famous item in the building, however, is the memorial to Shakespeare – who was associated with the parish while he completed work at the Blackfriars Theatre and lived within the parish boundaries in his home in Ireland Yard.  Across from him the gallery is his contemporary – John Dowland the lutenist, who was originally buried in St. Ann’s Blackfriars, another church which was merged with the parish of St. Andrew after the fire. Despite being new, these beautiful wooden memorials are the most sought after items in the building by visitors.

When visiting look up to the galleries and note the flags. You will see the Worshipful Companies of Apothecaries, Parish Clerks, Mercers, and Blacksmiths represented here. Also look very closely at the light fixtures – one has small bearded faces with hats, the other has a double-headed eagle. Though these details don’t seem to be mentioned in any of the literature regarding the history of the building and its collection of furnishings – they are certainly interesting to look at.

Also – one of the bells is allegedly haunted if you’re looking for interesting ghost or folklore stories! (Sorry I love goofy ghost stories from time to time!!!)


More info:
London: The City Churches by Simon Bradley and Nikolaus Pevsner




Top 5 Places For Graffiti Not Far From London

When I first started out on my adventure in medieval graffiti land it was always so frustrating to see the cool things that came out of small churches that usually required a car to get to. I lacked a car, and most of my Londoner friends also lacked cars. It was like everything I wanted to do was out of reach. Obviously this was not true, and I went and stretched my legs, hopped trains, and ended up finding plenty of graffiti nearish London.  So if you’re based in London and car-less this post is for you!  (Note: these are in no particular order. I refuse to rank things like that!)

1. The Tower of London

OK let’s just get this one out of the way. Yes it’s touristy. Yes it’s often crowded. No it’s not a church. But there are some really amazing examples of graffiti at the tower. The obvious hotspot for graffiti will be Beauchamp tower – with beautiful and intricate examples of graffiti from various prisoners. If you go during the week and early in the morning it’ll likely be a quiet tower to visit. Salt tower also has some wonderful examples. But if you pay close attention you will find inscriptions pretty much all over the place!

2. Hampton Court Palace

Again. I’m sorry. Tourist filled. But there’s some really amazing stuff here! The processional gallery is my personal favourite spot for historic graffiti, but keep an eye on all the doorways and in some cases – the doors themselves here! You’ll find apotropaic marks, handprints, and in some cases full names with regimental information scattered throughout the palace.

3. Canterbury Cathedral

I knew you were wondering when I was going to start blithering on about churches. Well my friends…that time is now. Canterbury cathedral (like many cathedrals) is a treasure trove of all sorts of wonderful graffiti. One of my favourite inscriptions ever comes from this place – I’ve made special note of him below. The crypt has some great images of Christ, as well as at least one axe!  Make sure you also spend some time in the cloisters for graffiti from all completely different time periods. Meanwhile, inside you can find shoes, hands, horseshoes, stars, names, faces that are just a bit judgey….

4. Winchester Cathedral

My second most favourite inscription ever is here (Harey Coppar, wherever you are now….thanks for bringing me amused joy). You’ll have to look upwards for it though. The usual ‘cathedral level of selection’ is present here. Stick to pillars in this place, and make sure you look up! Infamous ‘VV’s show up like mad here, I love the unfinished pelta, there are a few great daisy wheels (albeit some of them are severely damaged), and benches have plenty of carvings to sift through.

5. St. Albans

I know, I know, I already plugged this place a little bit but truly it’s worth a visit. It’s so close to London, has so many graffiti, and as people to this day continue to tell me there’s a pamphlet there – I know they must still be in print so go get a copy and have a wander. Some of the really big stuff is harder to see lighting wise but many of the people who work there can show you outlines if need be – and most of the other graffiti listed are super easy to find!


Complete with nails!

OK folks I tried to keep it short and sweet. Go out and have a look – there’s of course way more graffiti in each of these buildings than I have mentioned in this one short little post!

St. Albans Abbey: The one that started it all…

Once upon a time, when I was solely a stained glass nerd. One day, I took a break from the hustle and bustle of London and spent an afternoon strolling around St. Albans Abbey. At the time I was just starting out on my ‘SEE ALL THE CHURCHES’ adventure. My dissertation was on a London City Church, and most of the churches I had been doing research in were all in Greater London – many of those were of Victorian construction or ‘renovation’.

The Abbey was fairly quiet, it was a sunny, warm day in June so all the sensible people were outside enjoying the weather. I was running around like I usually was in a church, picking out which windows I was going to take the time to photograph (sunny days are awful for stained glass photography), looking at tombs and monuments, and falling in love with wall paintings – something that you don’t really find in London churches. My travelling and church visiting buddy stopped over to look at some books to buy and I spotted a leaflet entitled: A Short Graffiti Tour of Saint Albans Abbey. I had no idea what they were talking about so I picked it up and started to read.

Skeleton 2

One of the first ever pictures I took of graffiti….and it’s total crap (of course)

WHAT. Tiny scratches on walls that are skeletons and hares and hands and names?!?!?! How had I been missing out on this! Despite being halfway through seeing the Abbey I dragged my counterpart back to the proverbial start so we could go through this pamphlet and find all the graffiti we could. Though a few areas were cordoned off, I found most of it and started trying to figure out how to take photos of the inscriptions with THE crappiest camera for low-light the world has probably ever seen. I still love the image I somehow got my camera to take of the famous hare as well as the two skeletons. Take a moment to feel bad for my friend here….I literally refused to move on to the next spot in the pamphlet until I had successfully found the graffiti that were listed….meaning there were times he was standing there doing nothing for quite some time.

Upon leaving I thought of the dozens of churches I had been to already. Did THEY have graffiti? If they did why didn’t they tell anyone? This was such a personal and interesting thing to study what on earth had I been missing out on?! I suppose I got bit by the graffiti ‘bug’ that day, because every building we visited afterwards I was climbing in the cloisters or crawling around the quire looking for previously ignored symbols. Several times I had people come up to me and ask me what on earth I was doing staring at the walls – I’d cheerfully show them and they’d join in for a short time before reverting to ‘normal person’ status. What was even funnier was going through my photos from churches before I knew graffiti was a ‘thing’ and seeing photos I took of graffiti without even realising it was there or what it was! Graffiti became my main field of study and my passion soon after that trip.

These days I look at images people send me and try to answer their questions, or put some of the cool things I’ve found up on a screen in front of a class full of undergraduate students, or I’m crawling around on the floor investigating a unique looking chisel mark in some long forgotten parish church. But I absolutely love it and wouldn’t trade it for anything – so thank you St. Albans – you helped make me…