St. Lawrence, Ayot St. Lawrence
Folly and ruin.
Between the commuter towns of Luton, Stevenage and Welwyn, not far from the M1, are the two Ayots, and this area is indeed an island of rural calm compared to the kingdoms of the motor car that surround it. The village’s claim to fame is the house at Shaw’s Corner, now a National Trust shrine to George Bernard Shaw who wrote many of his plays in its summerhouse, not far from either church. So you get two for the price of one here; well, one and a half, because the old church was part demolished in the 1770s before the bishop heard of it and halted proceedings. Recent incomer Sir Lionel Lyde had decided to move the church to a more picturesque position, wanting an eyecatcher visible from Ayot House, which he had purchased outright from his wife’s sister with Bristol tobacco money. He must have been a fashionable man, as he chose Nicholas Revett to design his new church, and was so little constrained by convention as to reverse its orientation completely, putting the apsidal chancel at the west end and the entrance portico at the east, in order to look well from his house. Revett had been to Greece with James “Athenian” Stuart, who published their architectural discoveries; before this all classicism had been seen through the prism of Rome. Ayot St. Lawrence was the first church to be built with truly Greek details, its portico columns copied from the temple of Apollo at Delos, even if the plan was still Palladian[7]. Sir Lionel didn’t just want a church and an ornament for his money, he wanted mausolea too, somewhere to bury himself and his wife in style, so the temple-like facade has low colonnades spreading to north and south, each ending in an arched aedicule topped with a pediment echoing that at the centre over the church. Each tiny shrine contains an urn on a pedestal, one for Sir Lionel and one for his wife, said locally to be the outcome of marital discord and the wish that the church which bound them in life should separate them in death. It is worth passing round the polite white stucco front to see the brick body of the church, as from the rear the complexities of the plan become clear. The church has short transepts, and the apse is clasped by low curving passages that make for interesting external geometry, the interpenetrating curves reminiscent of Greek churches, but of Byzantine style.
Folly and ruin.
Between the commuter towns of Luton, Stevenage and Welwyn, not far from the M1, are the two Ayots, and this area is indeed an island of rural calm compared to the kingdoms of the motor car that surround it. The village’s claim to fame is the house at Shaw’s Corner, now a National Trust shrine to George Bernard Shaw who wrote many of his plays in its summerhouse, not far from either church. So you get two for the price of one here; well, one and a half, because the old church was part demolished in the 1770s before the bishop heard of it and halted proceedings. Recent incomer Sir Lionel Lyde had decided to move the church to a more picturesque position, wanting an eyecatcher visible from Ayot House, which he had purchased outright from his wife’s sister with Bristol tobacco money. He must have been a fashionable man, as he chose Nicholas Revett to design his new church, and was so little constrained by convention as to reverse its orientation completely, putting the apsidal chancel at the west end and the entrance portico at the east, in order to look well from his house. Revett had been to Greece with James “Athenian” Stuart, who published their architectural discoveries; before this all classicism had been seen through the prism of Rome. Ayot St. Lawrence was the first church to be built with truly Greek details, its portico columns copied from the temple of Apollo at Delos, even if the plan was still Palladian[7]. Sir Lionel didn’t just want a church and an ornament for his money, he wanted mausolea too, somewhere to bury himself and his wife in style, so the temple-like facade has low colonnades spreading to north and south, each ending in an arched aedicule topped with a pediment echoing that at the centre over the church. Each tiny shrine contains an urn on a pedestal, one for Sir Lionel and one for his wife, said locally to be the outcome of marital discord and the wish that the church which bound them in life should separate them in death. It is worth passing round the polite white stucco front to see the brick body of the church, as from the rear the complexities of the plan become clear. The church has short transepts, and the apse is clasped by low curving passages that make for interesting external geometry, the interpenetrating curves reminiscent of Greek churches, but of Byzantine style.
Internally, deep coffering covers the ceiling’s nine compartments, the large circular roundel emphasising the central planning of the church, little longer than wide, with octagonal relief patterns on the tunnel vaults over the transepts and entrance, which lies through a two column screen. There is an original mahogany chamber organ in one transept and a pulpit in the other, and on a chequerwork marble floor sit uncomfortable benches facing north and south. Modern chairs focus on the apse, which has a coffered half dome lit from concealed side windows set back in each curved recess.
Lyde had got as far as gutting the old church in the centre of the village, and had removed the roof and possibly commenced destruction of the chancel, before the Bishop of London called a halt. Weather and vandalism continued the decay, though the remains were buttressed and stabilised in the 1920s and 1999. There never seems to have been any desire to retain monuments or fittings from the old church in the new, and time has eaten away at what remained, mostly through the mediation of bored youths. Still, what stands is undeniably picturesque, and is in the hands of a local trust, so this time English Heritage has not tidied it to within an inch of its life. They have a tendency towards presenting us with perfectly pointed walls on a smoothly shaven lawn, whereas here time and a lack of finance have thankfully allowed edges to soften. The north west tower was added to the church in around 1400 and still stands to full height, having been built into the earlier north aisle. The north chapel shows signs of having had Kentish tracery of the 1340s, a rare type with star shaped quatrefoils with split cusps that always reminds me of exploding fireworks. Parts of the nave remain, but most of the chancel has gone. All that remain of the furnishings have been gathered under the tower behind bars: mostly consisting of the badly battered torsos of a knight and his lady resting on a panelled chest tomb of the fifteenth century. Even the shattered lumps of the font and wall monuments were stolen before these poor remnants were enclosed in protective custody, and though the font has returned, Sir Lionel Lyde may yet get his way with these crumbling flint walls.
I’ve always found both churches open, but in this area, this may not last. Check first on 01438 820371. The old church lies back from Hall Farm Lane, in the north part of the village opposite the Brocket arms; the new church is up a track leading north from Bibbs Hall Lane , to the west of the village; both lie within walking distance of Shaw’s Corner.
I’ve always found both churches open, but in this area, this may not last. Check first on 01438 820371. The old church lies back from Hall Farm Lane, in the north part of the village opposite the Brocket arms; the new church is up a track leading north from Bibbs Hall Lane , to the west of the village; both lie within walking distance of Shaw’s Corner.
[7] The calm classicism of the sixteenth century Italian architect Andrea Palladio became a major influence on English Georgian architecture through his many published designs.
All rights reserved for this entire site. Copyright reserved to stiffleaf for all text and images, which may not be reproduced without my permission.