St. Michael, St.Peter and St.Stephen at St. Albans.
Grim restorations.
The brooding brick bulk of the cathedral lies across the hilltop execution site of England’s first martyr saint, a Roman soldier executed here outside the walled town in 209 A.D. The Saxon town eventually grew up around his shrine, but the church of St. Michael was built on the site of the basilica, beside the forum at the centre of the Roman city. The modern market place lies a mile away along Fishpool Street, a pleasantly picturesque walk through a mediaeval suburb that takes you past a mill and its forded stream. Little is left above ground of the great Roman town of Verulamium, the upstanding walls having been robbed for their brick, some of which was used here by the Saxons to strengthen their church of puddingstone and flint. The nave and chancel are predominantly Saxon, though the church has grown a little, and much of the exterior suffered from the attentions of Edmund Beckett, better known as Lord Grimthorpe. Sir George Gilbert Scott had been handling the restoration here, rebuilding a porch and part of the chancel, but when he died Grimthorpe grabbed his chance. This amateur architect and low church theologian was a millionaire who sought to stamp his personality on every church in town, generally by pulling down anything he didn’t like and replacing it with his version of gothic. At this time, the abbey had just been made into a cathedral and given a see, but no appointments had been made when Grimthorpe jumped in and gained freedom to do as he wished by throwing his money about. He was known already as a lawyer, having worked as a Q.C., and was also an horologist, having designed the clock under Big Ben.
Grim restorations.
The brooding brick bulk of the cathedral lies across the hilltop execution site of England’s first martyr saint, a Roman soldier executed here outside the walled town in 209 A.D. The Saxon town eventually grew up around his shrine, but the church of St. Michael was built on the site of the basilica, beside the forum at the centre of the Roman city. The modern market place lies a mile away along Fishpool Street, a pleasantly picturesque walk through a mediaeval suburb that takes you past a mill and its forded stream. Little is left above ground of the great Roman town of Verulamium, the upstanding walls having been robbed for their brick, some of which was used here by the Saxons to strengthen their church of puddingstone and flint. The nave and chancel are predominantly Saxon, though the church has grown a little, and much of the exterior suffered from the attentions of Edmund Beckett, better known as Lord Grimthorpe. Sir George Gilbert Scott had been handling the restoration here, rebuilding a porch and part of the chancel, but when he died Grimthorpe grabbed his chance. This amateur architect and low church theologian was a millionaire who sought to stamp his personality on every church in town, generally by pulling down anything he didn’t like and replacing it with his version of gothic. At this time, the abbey had just been made into a cathedral and given a see, but no appointments had been made when Grimthorpe jumped in and gained freedom to do as he wished by throwing his money about. He was known already as a lawyer, having worked as a Q.C., and was also an horologist, having designed the clock under Big Ben.
Here at St. Michael’s he pulled down the west tower and part of the nave, extending it and rebuilding it with a tower and south aisle vestries of his own Early English design. St. Michael’s got off lightly compared to elsewhere in town, and a circuit of the church reveals a Norman window in the north aisle, as well as one with good fourteenth century tracery, untouched Saxon quoins at the east end of the nave, an Early English clerestory and south chapel, and a Decorated tomb niche on the south wall of the chancel. Two thirteenth century tomb slabs can be found beside this, and an unusual niche in the chancel wall indicates the probable position of an anchorite’s hold. This would have been a small timber cell built to house a hermit, voluntarily immured in the fifteenth century and treated as a holy man, probably something of a trial for the parish priest. Inside the porch comes the first taste of antiquity, as the gothic doorway is set into a blocked Norman arch. Inside the nave walls are full of overlapping openings, the original Saxon windows having been blocked to allow the Normans to cut their simple arches through for aisles. On both sides these windows have been partially opened up, revealing the Roman brick used to edge their arches, and on the south side the Norman have in turn been partly blocked. Every age seems to have pierced these walls, and above the arcades there are the simple lancets of the thirteenth century clerestory, partly changed on the north
The font is presently propped up with timbers, having cracked top to toe after a massive explosion in a factory near Potters Bar. On the wall opposite the dead arise from their tombs disturbed by a louder blast; this is the beautifully painted tympanum from the chancel arch, part of an extensive Doom destroyed in the restoration, showing a pope and a king, a priest and a queen, all waking to judgement on the last day of all. John Hardman’s west window glass depicts the archangel St. Michael having defeated the dragon that lies at his feet; holding a sword in one hand and scales in the other he awaits souls to weigh at the last judgement. Seated in the chancel is the world famous memorial to the philosopher Sir Francis Bacon, slumped as in life in his favourite armchair with his big baggy breeches and wide-awake hat on his drowsy head looking like it’ll take more than the last trump to disturb him. He is the very image of the Jacobean gentleman, asleep in the face of the carnage to come. Many monuments suffered in the civil war, but this one seems to have been lucky and is in excellent condition: you find yourself waiting for him to open his eyes and finish a joke.
Michael may be the saint of high places, but the other churches are equally elevated, and coming into town it is the abbey that is foremost in view. At the top of the market the Regency brick central tower marks what remains of St. Peter’s. Much fell down before it suffered rebuilding at the hands of Lord Grimthorpe, and apart from the arcades and part of the south aisle there is little old to see but some glass. Both that by Capronnier of the 1860s and the fifteenth century remains showing martyrdom details are worth a look, but the later glass by Kempe lacks excitement and typical work here by local glass designers Christopher Webb and his pupil Francis Skeat is proficient but no more. The third old foundation is St. Stephen’s, a somewhat shell shocked Norman church with a Victorian spire and some cheerful glass of the 1860s by Clayton and Bell. The big draw here used to be the eagle lectern, looted from Scotland in the sixteenth century and the source of bitter controversy even now. It was stolen back and is presently on show in a museum in Scotland and there is strong doubt whether it will ever return, though it’s legally sort of on loan. It probably belongs in Edinburgh, though if it hadn’t been stolen the Scots would have melted it down long ago. Black and white is so often grey.
St. Peter’s is open daily, at the top of the market, office hours 01727 855485, but you’ll need to check the St. Michael’s website for summer only access; it’s ridiculously complicated, all over the place, and difficult if you work. Best to ring their office 9.30-12.30 weekdays, on 01727 835037. The church is next to Verulamium museum, why can’t a key be kept there for visitors? St. Stephen’s office is open Tues.and Fri. 9.30-12.30 on 01727 862598; the church at the south end of Holywell Hill.
All rights reserved for this entire site. Copyright reserved to stiffleaf for all text and images, which may not be reproduced without my permission.
St. Peter’s is open daily, at the top of the market, office hours 01727 855485, but you’ll need to check the St. Michael’s website for summer only access; it’s ridiculously complicated, all over the place, and difficult if you work. Best to ring their office 9.30-12.30 weekdays, on 01727 835037. The church is next to Verulamium museum, why can’t a key be kept there for visitors? St. Stephen’s office is open Tues.and Fri. 9.30-12.30 on 01727 862598; the church at the south end of Holywell Hill.
All rights reserved for this entire site. Copyright reserved to stiffleaf for all text and images, which may not be reproduced without my permission.