A village church
Sept 8, 2018 17:55:47 GMT
Post by patricklondon on Sept 8, 2018 17:55:47 GMT
It may seem strange to be seeing cows in the fields from a London tube train, but you can at the farthest eastern end of the Central Line, running into Epping, on the edge of the Forest of the same name. Once upon a time, the line ran even further, to Ongar, a pleasant enough but not particularly picturesque large village or small town; the line is still there, but only for weekend heritage trains run by a volunteer trust. For ordinary traffic, there's a regular service bus; and from there, a 15-minute stroll will bring you to the object of this trip. Through the open fields, with little or no sound except an occasional distant plane or the faint hum of vehicles on the motorway, and into the trees, and then, almost hidden from the houses of the surrounding hamlet, you come to what claims to be the oldest wooden church in the world.
Not quite the whole truth, perhaps, since much of the structure, the interior woodwork, roof and windows, is the work of the Victorians, but the rough-hewn timbers of the lower walls have been dated to the late Anglo-Saxon period.
Inside it is just as peaceful as the surroundings: just one or two visitors when I was there, no attendant guide or volunteers, just a table with guidebooks, souvenirs and jams and chutneys (labelled for the church, but bought in rather than run up by a cottage industry of parishioners, I noticed) and an honesty box.
There are few great events connected with the church: the possibility that the martyred Saxon King Edmund's body rested here en route to its final resting place at Bury St Edmunds (where else), a tomb believed to be that of a crusader, and a connection with the "Tolpuddle Martyrs" (transported to Australia for organising an early trades union, and allowed to settle here rather than in their home county on their release and return - until, that is, the vicar responsible for the major restoration of the church objected to their being here and had them moved on elsewhere). Otherwise, it has simply seen the usual round of village life and church services for the best part of a thousand years.
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Not quite the whole truth, perhaps, since much of the structure, the interior woodwork, roof and windows, is the work of the Victorians, but the rough-hewn timbers of the lower walls have been dated to the late Anglo-Saxon period.
Inside it is just as peaceful as the surroundings: just one or two visitors when I was there, no attendant guide or volunteers, just a table with guidebooks, souvenirs and jams and chutneys (labelled for the church, but bought in rather than run up by a cottage industry of parishioners, I noticed) and an honesty box.
There are few great events connected with the church: the possibility that the martyred Saxon King Edmund's body rested here en route to its final resting place at Bury St Edmunds (where else), a tomb believed to be that of a crusader, and a connection with the "Tolpuddle Martyrs" (transported to Australia for organising an early trades union, and allowed to settle here rather than in their home county on their release and return - until, that is, the vicar responsible for the major restoration of the church objected to their being here and had them moved on elsewhere). Otherwise, it has simply seen the usual round of village life and church services for the best part of a thousand years.
My blog | My photos | My video clips | My Librivox recordings
"too literate to be spam"
