Reflecting on church towers

click photos to enlarge

When I first saw the church of St Peter and St Paul at Wigtoft in Lincolnshire, I thought, "Ah, a Kentish tower." What is it about the tower that makes me think of the ragstone, flint and clunch churches of Kent? It's that stair turret that climbs the south-west corner of the tower from ground level and finishes as a crenellated projection above the tower top. This kind of turret is not exclusive to Kent, but that county does have a fondness for them that has caught not only my eye, but that of a few architectural historians.

Church towers come in many shapes and sizes. The two most common variants in England are the square tower that is often, though not always, crenellated, and the tower surmounted by a spire. Both of these forms seem to me to be visually satisfying shapes. I particularly like the broach style where a stone spire is placed on a tower leaving no space for parapet or crenellations. The round towers of Norfolk are interesting departures from the norm that I find often work quite well in a naive, rustic way. Some of the domes and cupolas that top eighteenth century towers are also welcome additions. However, a tower with a single, small turret of the sort seen here at Wigtoft, as well as in Kent, and reasonably commonly elsewhere throughout the country, always looks awkward to my eye, especially when it accompanies a spire. It's as though the builders couldn't make up their minds and decided to have the lot - tower, spire and turret - not appreciating that the two topmost projections compete for attention rather than complement each other, with over-elaborate fussiness being the end result.

Not everyone will agree with me on this, and there are those who will see the asymmetry that the turret introduces as romantic by form and association. I will concede that it can give a sort of "fairy tale" quality to a tower, though to my mind it is more Disney than Grimm. The Victorians liked these turrets and sometimes added them when they were undertaking a restoration. Wigtoft's turret may be original, but its stonework suggests that it could be a later addition. Did the turrets have an ecclesiastical or lay purpose? I don't know, though it is hard to imagine any benefits coming from a vantage point that is a mere six feet or so higher on a tower that would have been easily the tallest building in most towns and villages.

 I photographed the south side of Wigtoft church in the spring of 2010, but from a slightly different angle. And, for those who like such things, here is the original colour version of today's image. The remants of the morning's light fall of snow can be more easily seen in it.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 28mm
F No: 6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/250
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

St Peter & St Paul, Wigtoft

click photo to enlarge
Go into any Lincolnshire churchyard towards the end of March and aspects of the scene above will meet your eyes. There will probably be a medieval church at the end of a path leading from the lych gate, mainly Gothic of the period 1200 to 1500. At Wigtoft, however, significant parts of a Norman building remain. On the west face of the tower is a Norman doorway and an elaborately decorated window, with elsewhere blocked windows and a section of corbel table from the same period.

The gravestones are of the typical mixture to be found in most Lincolnshire churchyards, the oldest dating from the eighteenth century and blending harmoniously with the building, some nineteenth century examples managing this too, but later ones from that century and most from subsequent years sticking out like sore thumbs: note the two snow white ones to the right of the centre of the image. The landscape of the Fens is not known for its woodland, and without the trees of the churchyards the plentiful rooks of this part of the world would have great difficulty finding enough nest sites. As I walked around the church the birds rose from the tops of the trees, and with raucous cries circled around until I was far enough away for them to feel safe to settle down again. When their eggs have hatched they'll sit tight, ignoring anyone walking below.

Then there's the churchyard grass. About now it gets its first cut, and you can see in the foreground that the mower has begun its work. A few yellowish patches reveal the moss that has grown in the grass during the damp of winter. It's a thankless task, steering the grass-cutter around the hundreds of gravestones, keeping "God's acre" tidy, but people continue to volunteer to do it, and it is a job that will be repeated at regular intervals until late October.

The fine skies and photographic withdrawal symptoms took me out to Wigtoft church, and I took a few shots during my visit. This is the best I managed, with the church framed between trees, the graveyard below, the clouds above, and the straight line of the concrete path, as well as the perspective of the lines of gravestones, leading the eye towards the building.

photograph & text (c) T.Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 16mm (32mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/80
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On