Giggleswick, a north country church

click photo to enlarge
The medieval stone-built churches of the Pennines are often characterised by a long, low shape, rather like the medieval farm houses of the northern uplands. But, whereas the latter came about by the living accommodation and barns being side by side and in one building, in the case of churches it was due to technological and, perhaps, stylistic reasons.

If you look at medieval churches across England, and especially in the north country, you will soon begin to notice a triangular shape on the east wall of the tower above the nave roof. You can see such a shape on St Alkelda in Giggleswick, North Yorkshire (above - below the clock). It is a drip mould designed to stop water flowing the down that face of the tower and penetrating the roof. Instead it is made to flow onto the slates, tiles or thatch of the nave roof and thence to gutters and gargoyle spouts. The moulding is revealed for all to see because, of course, the roof that it was designed to serve is no longer there. The availability, in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, of cheaper lead in large sheets prompted a widespread migration from steeply pitched church roofs that didn't always work as well as they should, and which needed frequent maintenance, to lower pitched lead-covered roofs. These were frequently so low as to be invisible behind the parapets of the naves and chancels, and sometimes those of the aisles too.

One has to believe that the builders and church authorities who sanctioned the widespread introduction of low, lead-covered roofs decided that the advantages outweighed the less attractive appearance of the building. Certainly that wasn't the case when the Victorian restorers set to work on these churches. Quite a few lamented the lead roofs and in more than a few instances the pitched roofs were reinstated. This didn't happen at Giggleswick. We were there on an overcast evening after a bright day when the view from the side of the churchyard that is allowed to produce hay and grow a little wild offered an interesting image. It reminded me of how many such places looked in the 1960s and 1970s before powered mowers came into widespread use and memorial-strewn lawns replaced long grasses blowing in the wind.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: St Alkelda, Giggleswick, North Yorkshire
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.) crop
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/500 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

A poor box

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One of my childhood memories is being taken into the church of St Alkelda in Giggleswick, North Yorkshire (though it was in the West Riding at that time), and reading the words, "Remember The Pore" on the poor box that was fixed in the aisle near the south porch. The date on the box interested me, but the spelling of the word "poor" puzzled me (for I knew that must be what the word said.) It could well have been that seventeenth century carved lettering that gave me the first realization that words have not always been spelled as they are today.

My copy of the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) gives examples of the development of the spelling of the word "poor" over the centuries. Here is a brief summary: c.1205 pouere, c.1300 pouir, c.1375 powere, c.1380 poer and poeure, c.1440 power, 1434 poyr, 1536 poor, 1540 power, 1554-9 poware, 1592 pore, 1611 poore, 1629 pore, 1650 poor. Before attempts to standardise spelling began in the eighteenth century writers often went their own way with words, and the list of spellings in the OED in no way shows a sequence that was followed by all. In fact, the dictionary shows an instance of it being spelled peer as late as 1802! However, from the examples quoted above we can see that pore was certainly current in the seventeenth century.

Poor boxes are found in many English churches and often date from the 1600s. They are evidence of the role the church played in supporting the poor through the collection of money from parishioners. Such boxes and collections are often known as "alms", and in some areas the term "mite box" is also used. What I didn't know as a child when I read the words shown in the photograph is that they are probably a quotation from the Bible (Galatians 2:10), but, through the power of the internet I now do! Furthermore, what I never noticed as a child was the date A.D. 1844 carved at the bottom of the box, but, through the power of photography I now have! I imagine it was carved when the box underwent some restoration.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 22mm (44mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f3.5
Shutter Speed: 1/15
ISO: 400
Exposure Compensation: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Walking and computers

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There seems to be a general feeling that computers are good for democracy. Supporters of this viewpoint cite the Chinese government's restriction of its citizens' access to the internet as telling evidence of the proposition. And it's undoubtedly true that they give the individual in a society access to information, the means to manipulate and interpret it, and the power to communicate with the like-minded and our politicians.

However, computers can also be used in an anti-democratic way too. Most notably they allow governments, through the amassing and manipulating of data, to believe that they are in a better position to direct and organise society, than are local people and local politicians: they are a dangerous, centralising force. Take the current panic over childhood obesity. The government has collected data, is collecting more, and has come up with an answer - more physical activity in schools. Surely I'm not alone in thinking that if overweight children is the problem, then making them jump about in schools isn't the answer. But, computers in the government's education department know, to the minute (they think), how much physical activity school children undertake each week, and it's not enough! So the decree went out that all, throughout the country, should receive a minimum of two hours weekly during school time. Money was spent, organisers were appointed, and a grand strategy involving webs of high schools with feeder primaries were urged into action. It will have virtually no effect! Child obesity will only be solved by deep-seated life-style changes that include eating better and eating less, and walking and cycling more. This involves government leaning on food companies, planning for bikes and pedestrians, restricting cars, and yes, education, but in the widest sense. However, those strategies don't make politicians very popular. It's much easier to have a grand, trumpeted, school-based initiative and look like you're doing something!

One thing I've started to notice is that when I go walking the majority of the people I see doing it for pleasure are "older" people. If I go to the "honey-pot" locations like the Lake District, the balance shifts towards the younger end, and organised groups of children and young teens can be seen. But elsewhere it's mainly the "oldies" - like my wife and I - people for whom walking has been a lifelong way of getting about, and a source of enjoyment. The photograph shows my wife climbing a stile over a limestone wall on Gigglewick Scars in the Yorkshire Dales. I framed the shot so the wall acts as a line leading to the figure, or from the figure into the surroundings. The image was taken with a wide zoom lens at 44mm (35mm equivalent), with the camera set to Aperture Priority (f6.3 at 1/400 second), ISO 100, with -1.0EV.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen