Illustration of St. Pancras' church

The Churches Of The Metropolis No. XIII – St. Pancras’ Old Church

It seems but the other day this old suburban church was pleasantly surrounded by green fields and quiet hedgerows; but now the mammoth magnitude of this great city—the modern Babylon—has stretched itself in this direction, as in all others; and St. Pancras’ fields, with their rows of goodly elms, and pleasant meandering footpaths leading to the then village church, exist only as a pleasant memory. Surrounded by houses, the old church seems out of place, and might be passed as little worthy attention. Still are there facts worth noting in its history, and that of the locality in which it stands—and associations which may serve to prompt more than a passing thought. The whole of this neighbourhood is linked by tradition with a deadly fight between the Britons and their invaders, when seventy thousand men were said to have been slain at “Battle-bridge.” Modern fashion has attempted to get rid of the old Saxon name which serves to keep this struggle in remembrance, by christening the locality in courtly guise, King’s Cross—erecting, too, in the centre of the road an architectural hybrid, the use of which could never be discovered, unless built there for omnibuses to run against. All round Battle-bridge traces of entrenchments have been found, running up close to the old church; some of them, called the Brill, occupied the pen of the learned and ingenious Stukely. During the civil wars, also, this spot again became the seat of armed entrenchments, and the Royalists and Parliamentarians occupied the ground which more than a thousand years earlier had been trodden by the armed legions of Rome, and the comparatively defenceless Britons.

Illustration of Wilford church and the church yard

Nooks And Corners Of Old England – Wilford Church

Wilford is a delightfully picturesque and secluded village on the banks of the river Trent, about a mile from the town of Nottingham; and though so short a distance from a populous manufacturing district, it yet retains all those rural characteristics which poets, and topographers delighted to describe centuries ago. Sir Juckes Clifton, Baronet, of Clifton Hall, is the lord of the manor; his ancestors have been seated at Clifton, two miles’ distant from Wilford, ever since the reign of Henry the Third; but they held lands in this district long before that period. Sir Gervase Clifton was created a baronet in the ninth year of James the First. Wilford was anciently a Roman station, and some years since many Roman coins were discovered there, most of which were of the latter emperors. It was an eminent manor in the time of Edward the Confessor; and “did belong,” says Thoreton, “to the famous Godes the Countess” When the great survey under William the Conqueror was made, his natural son, William Peveril, governor of Nottingham Castle, had possessions there; and the village in those days had a “priest and a church.” The population is now about 600. The present rector (the Rev. Thomas Thorp) was instituted in 1819 ; and the annual value of the living, according to the report of the Ecclesiastical Commissioners, is £574. The church, which is dedicated to St. Wilfrid, presents, to the north-east, an interesting and handsome appearance; but the southern side is disfigured by an unsightly porch, and several pieces of patchwork, which the hand of “modern improvement” has introduced. It has a low tower and clerestory, a rather spacious nave and aisle, and a good chancel, which, as the village chronicle says, was “beautified by the Rev. Mr. Carter, rector of this parish who also founded and endowed a charity school, and upon a flat stone in the north aisle, no further record on it being discernible. The churchyard is sheltered by a range of noble elm trees; and the silvery Trent flows close past this hallowed enclosure with a rushing stream.

Illustration of the Church of St. Savior's, London

The Churches Of The Metropolis No. XII – St. Saviour’s

Crossing London-bridge to Southwark, the church of St. Mary Overy, or St. Saviour’s, on the right hand, divides attention with the first glimpse of the noble Hospitals which attest so proudly the charitable munificence of our country. Southwark, as early as any accounts exist of London, was a place of some importance; and on the marching of the Conqueror to the metropolis it had the misfortune to be selected for burning, by way of example to the inhabitants on the London side, who were somewhat disinclined to favour the pretensions of William. The site of the present church was, at an early period, that of the Priory of St. Mary Overy; of this considerable remains still exist, and, indeed, portions of the present building formed a part of it. The priory was twice destroyed by fire, and the present church was most probably (there are no positive records) built in the reign of Henry IV. At the dissolution of monasteries it was surrendered to Henry, purchased from him by the good folks of Southwark, and converted into a parish church. An act of Parliament afterwards united it with that of St. Margaret-at-Hill, and changed its old Saxon name of St. Mary Overy into that of St. Saviour’s, Southwark.

Illustration of the church at Stratford-Upon-Avon

Nooks And Corners Of Old England – Stratford-Upon-Avon Church

Stratford-upon-Avon Church is a chief ornament of the quiet rural nook in sylvan Warwickshire, which is hallowed by one of the holiest of England’s memories. Its appearance and architecture are thoroughly English. Its square tower and pointed windows, its mullions and tracery of the 14th century, its graceful spire tapering above the tall elms which surround it, and the avenue of limes arching overhead the graveyard path to the old porch, are all exactly in accordance with what an Englishman regards as the beau ideal of an old country church. It was formerly a collegiate, and is dedicated to the Holy Trinity. In the plain chancel rests the “poet of all time,” Shakspere. The Avon’s ripple, as the pilgrim to the poet’s tomb stands in the quiet chancel, may be heard murmuring the same placid music which it sang in Shakspere’s ear some two centuries ago. The place of sepulture is marked by a flat stone bearing the oft-repeated and quaint lines which the poet himself left for the purpose:—

Illustration of Forrest Hill Church

Nooks And Corners Of Old England – Forrest Hill, Oxfordshire

On a rising ground to the left of the road from Oxford to London, through Wycombe, and at the distance of four miles from Oxford, stands the little church of Forrest Hill; its gabled bell turret, containing two bells in open arches, rising above the surrounding foliage, forming a conspicuous and highly picturesque object. Forrest Hill is a long, straggling village, built on a ridge of land beyond the church, which occupies alone the brow of the hill. The churchyard is small, and surrounded and overhung with trees: the hollies, the yews, and weeping willows, all in the utmost luxuriance, forming a beautiful contrast with each other, and giving to the graveyard that spirit of quiet and holiness which always ought to be the characteristic of the church, which was dedicated to St. Nicholas the Confessor, on the 6th July, 1273, is small and compact, being composed of one aisle, divided into nave and chancel. At the west end is a fine early English bell-gable, and two singularly large buttresses standing out in bold projection.

Illustration of All Souls' Church, Langham Place, London

The Churches Of The Metropolis No. IX – All Souls’ Church, Langham Place

The improvements which originated in the Regency of George the Fourth, and converted Swallow-street, with its filthy labyrinthine environs, into the moet picturesque avenue of the metropolis, may be considered as the first step in the march of architectural embellishment which is now visible from the western entrance to Babylon the Great, at Hyde-park-corner, to the “far east,” where sits the old lady of Threadneedle-street, rubbing her eyes and spectacles in astonishment at finding herself the heart and centre of a city of palaces.

Where has commerce such a mart,
So rich, so thronged, so drained, and so supplied,
As LONDON—opulent, enlarged, and still
Increasing London? Babylon of old
Not more the glory of the earth than she,
A more accomplished world’s chief glory now!