| |
|
St Peter,
Mattishall Burgh
| Mattishall
is a tiny, pretty town almost exactly in the
middle of Norfolk. It has a magnificent church, All Saints, on the
market square, but out here in what passes for a
suburb is a second church, the parish chuch of
Mattishall Burgh. Burgh, pronounced Burr'a,
is just about the most common placename in
Norfolk, and usually refers, as you'd expect, to
an outlying settlement of a larger community. St
Peter is hidden from the road, up a track, and
surrounded by houses and gardens, a rather
incongruous setting considering that it is set on
an ancient rise.From the outside, it appears a
small church, a largely 14th century remodelling
of something older, with a rare surviving sanctus
bell turret on the nave east gable.
|
|
 |
Going around the other side, you get
something of a surprise, because there is a huge north
transept, which at first sight you think must be
Victorian. But on closer inspection it appears to be 14th
century, and, as Mortlock says, probably exactly
contemporary with the tower.
 |
|
Mortlock, writing in the
early 1980s, says that he found this church
cherished and welcoming, but I have to say that
this no longer seems to be the case. He fondly
records the four pensioners who worked to save
the church from decay. But now there are no
signs, no notices at all, and so I had to assume
that St Peter was no longer in use. There is a
huge unfriendly padlock on the porch doors. It is
hard to think of a building as being cherished if
it is so unwelcoming.
And so, we had to break in. And what
did we see? There's a lovely Purbeck marble font
on a collonade of pillars, and one of Norfolk's
half-dozen surviving barrel organs beside it.
Turning east, an exquisite little screen. The
transept is so wide that it is separated from the
nave by an arcade, a single fluted column
carrying the wall between two pointed arches, a
perfect Early Engish moment.
|
There is a simplicity to the sanctuary, with
a panel of modern glass depicting a dove descending on a
chalice and host, and the words Come Holy Ghost.
Of course, we didn't really break in. We
took all the photographs here through the windows. But we
could have done, or, at least, someone could. I get tired
of repeating it, but the national charity Church Watch
warns churches that a locked church is much more likely
to be vandalised than an unlocked one, is more likely to
be broken into, and is even slightly more likely to have
something stolen from it than one which is regularly left
open. The greater part of the claims received by
Ecclesiastical Insurance are for damage caused by
break-ins, not for items stolen.
We met someone later at
another church who said that there is no longer a
separate parish of Mattishall Burgh, and there
are no longer regular services at St Peter. It
seemed sad that all the love and care that
Mortlock saw lavished here a quarter of a century
ago should have come to this. I wondered what
those four pensioners would think if they could
come back and see that padlock. But of course, if
they hadn't loved it so, St Peter might well have
been lost to us by now.
Simon Knott, February 2006
|
|
 |
|
|
|
