Sunday
Dull morning,
but sun came out about one. Had breakfast
and lunch almost together [with the Conrans at Higham], then the Conrans went off to a “tea-dance” and
boxing-match (an odd combination) at Raydon Aerodrome.
Suddenly decided to go and see Lt Wenham Hall, after all
these years. Went across field tracks,
past Dewlands Farm, where the Storeys live, and Lark Hall, which looks very
nice, then took a wrong turning and found myself in Raydon village. Saw the church, not very interesting, but has
a good brass of T Raydon, 15th century. There are a few old cottages against the
church, but nothing very interesting.
Found the right road for Wenham, which now runs through
the middle of the aerodrome. Dozens of
Americans about. One block of huts
called “Youngstown ” and another “Alcatraz ”. One lot
of huts are within a few yards of Gt.
Wenham Church
Opposite the church is a very fine timber-framed house,
built about 1500 I should imagine.
Having only a half inch map had some difficulty in finding
Lt. Wenham Hall. Went through a farmyard
up to the old Hadleigh railway line, and then back, and at last found the
entrance to the grounds. I could not for
the life of me remember Miss Crisp’s name, so had to ask two ladies who were
walking down the drive.
And there was the famous Hall, very mellow in the
sunlight, with the modern house in pseudo-Elizabethan style not far away. Saw Miss Crisp, and calmly said that I had
come in answer to her invitation of eleven years ago. She was rather surprised, but gave me the
keys of the Hall and the church, and left me to my own devices.
The yellowy-grey Castle, looking very neat and compact,
rises up from a smooth green lawn, with the farm buildings and the ancient
church behind. Its completeness and its
perfect condition came as a surprise.
Went up the modern outside stair, unlocked the door, and found the main
hall of the place arranged as a museum.
This is a splendid chamber, about 60 x 25 feet. Miss Crisp is obviously a very religious
woman, and collects “curios” in a mildly “dilettante” manner. She has no less than 6 sets of wagon-bells,
several cross-bows, muskets, a pot-hat, some good chests, a fine refectory
table, an ophedeide in its original case, a drum, the Hadleigh
Ringers’ Jug dated 1715, (Stock ware, much like the Braintree jug.) There are also fire-irons, jacks, etc, and a
fine “toasting dog” carved in wood, holding an iron toaster. The most extraordinary object is an alleged
clepsydia, inscribed “John Calver fecit 1652 Ipswych.” This looks very doubtful to me, and somewhere
I seem to remember having read about an antique-dealer making a number of these
things some years ago, always inscribing them with convincing wording and
dates.
The wooden window shutters are hung on the original hooks,
and there are several carved and painted escutcheons on the walls.
Adjoining the hall is a tiny chapel, dedicated to St.
Petronilla, obviously still in use. The
stairs in the Turret lead up to the leaded roof, from which there are fine views
in every direction across the fields of waving barley. Gt. Wenham church clock struck 5.
Went across the garden, everything beautifully kept, round
by the farm buildings to the church.
Very nice indeed. Apparently not
very much used, but like the garden and the hall, kept in beautiful order. The only seating consists of two ancient pews
with linen-fold panelled backs, six forms, and nothing else. The effect is really magnificent. No church should ever have pews. There is a founder’s tomb in the S. wall, but
no effigy. There is also a good brass of
T. Brewse and his wife, 1513, and a lovely [tomb] of J. Brewse, 1585, on the S.
side of the chancel.
The chancel screen is most curious – a solid stone wall,
4’ high. There are also the stairs to
the Rood, and a nice new oak pulpit.
Took back the keys, cycled through Gt. Wenham to the main
road, and reached Stratford Dedham , had tea at the café, called at Sisson’s, and was
in Colchester at 9. Called at home, parents quite well, then up
to the Holly Trees, talking to Poulter about the Archaeological Conference until
after 11. Hull is going, but I don't think
I shall be able to.
Am now in the Oven, writing this, and all is very quiet,
no sound but the stirrings of the watchers above and the scurryings of mice
under the bed. The moon was rising
behind clouds when I came in.
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