Branscombe Church of St Winifred Description
- A beautiful church in a lovely valley position
- Clear development from Saxon time onwards
- Light-filled interior
- Fine medieval font
- A very handsome 18th century three-decker pulpit
- Good memorials
- A fascinating sanctuary
- Very early late 16th century west gallery
- Entrancing medieval wall painting
- A major Devon church
Branscombe Church of St Winifred
A traveller back in the early twentieth century wrote that Branscombe
… is as beautiful a village as you can hope to find out of Paradise. Thatched and ancient, and peaceful with the peace of the valleys, it lies scattered at the foot of lovely hills where three combes [deep valleys] meet.
Where Dorset meets Devon, Francis Bickley, 1911
A place like this deserves a church to match. Which it has… times three like the combes.
For Branscombe church is an artistry in stone and wood, light and glass, deep history and modern enchantment… There is nothing quite like it in Devon.
For one thing as the manor was given to the Minster (now Cathedral) of Exeter by a Saxon king back around 925 AD there is almost definitely a Saxon church underneath, and some plausible evidence in the tower stonework dating from there.
Then the Normans rocked up and built their own church on top, and what we see is a development with bits and bobs from the twelfth century onwards, culminating in a delicate restoration in 1911 following near-modern principles of conservation.
The Norman tower
The tower is the oldest part, mainly Norman with possible Saxon traces at the bottom (inside, in that stair turret) and it is a beauty, not least because of the chalky flint construction; the flints around here were so good that they were knapped to use in flintlock guns for nearly two hundred years from the mid seventeenth century.
The original Norman church likely had this tower, a tiny chancel to the left (eastwards) and a small nave to the right (westwards); the priest probably lived in the upper floors of the tower.
The transepts, we can see one sticking out towards us (the north transept) were added about one hundred and fifty years later in the late thirteenth or early fourteenth century when the chancel and nave were enlarged.
But usually when there is a central tower, as here, the transepts come off that same tower, as not here. The best explanation seems to be that the stair turret was already present, thus preventing the installation of a transept.
The lancet window in this transept is original, unlike the window in southern one…
The south transept window
Which seems to be later fourteenth century, wonderfully so, with its five-petalled stylised flower at the top and two stems below, foliage branching from their sides just below the main flowerhead.
This was punched through about fifty years after the transept completion, and the fact that there is a buttress below this window to strengthen the weakened wall is additional confirmation of its age.
Why? We tend to think that a window is for light, but light for what? In the modern world there is whole lifestyle that depends on light, but a thirteenth century church not so much… Except singing, or to be more exact reading the song and music books to enable the clergy to sing well.
This was the age of the growth of polyphony, many voices singing together, an art that England became internationally famous for, and for this they needed music books. Bishop Quinel of Exeter in the 1290s expected every church to provide at least eight music books, very pricey and valuable they were too, being all handwritten and handmade. In 1307 a document says that Branscombe had
Unus rotulus de canto organico magnus et longus, Organa ex dono Vicarii
[A long and large roll of choral polyphonic music, called ‘Organa’, given by the Vicar]
Which would have been a mighty gift.
So the growth of large windows in churches (a reason, mind you, not the only one) for the clergy, clerks, acolytes, subdeacons, deacons, vicar etc, to sing their services so beautifully.
Inside Branscombe Church of St Winifred
Inside Branscombe Church the light is large, that east window at the end is another example of a later big boy installed in an earlier wall; of course there would have been stained glass too, but a deal more light as well.
The tower arch in front is Norman, the transept arches to either side are later, the styles obviously different, the benches are very nice indeed, Arts & Crafts by WD Caroe, a major architect who oversaw the conservation of this church in 1911.
Above that tower arch where the cross is, there used to be
The Commandments, Creed, and Lord’s Prayer, painted on wooden tablets ; and above the arch, as a central decoration, was painted a large Eye from which long rays of light issued, draped on either side with stage curtains looped back with cords and tassels.
Devon and Cornwall Notes and Queries Vol VII, Miss EK Prideaux, 1912-1913
An eighteenth century folderol most likely.
A fifteenth century font
Unlike this grand fifteenth century beast, a chunky lad if ever I met one, and no native to Branscombe either; it was a gift from East Teignmouth church in 1911, and a very fine gift at that.
With a Green Man
The bowl is supported by a damaged ‘Green Man’ which here almost surely surely refers to story of a seed placed under Adam’s tongue at his burial; this grew into the tree that the cross of the crucifixion was made from, from the first sinner came the instrument of salvation of humankind.
A fine carving to support the baptism bowl.
An expressive Medieval roof boss
Whilst above on the nave roof is this darling, fifteenth century again and so very definitely not looking like a saved dude. He is a warning against gossiping and the Sins of the Tongue, and with his staring eyes and swollen lips seems very much a lad who has taken a wrong turn.
The more modern screw through the tongue is a wonderful touch, as damaging as it is, it very much suggests the consequences of vile talk and slanderous chat.
A very nice indeed three-decker
Though this beauty is about the wonders of the tongue and the preaching of scripture, which for a few hundred post-Reformation years took precedence over the Eucharist.
It is a probable eighteenth century three-decker pulpit, made from pine (below) and oak (the top bit) and has had a bit of wandering life; old photos show it against the south wall in a sea of box pews, set up so everybody could hear and see it. There is also a possibility that it was elsewhere before this.
The design is very utilitarian. The lower deck was for the clerk, who read the lessons and also led the singing of metrical psalms, psalms sung without musical accompaniment, the middle deck was for the preacher to lead the prayers and the top deck was again for the preacher to pop up and deliver his sermon, which often lasted an hour or two.
The Wadham memorial
In the transept behind the pulpit are not only a few remaining box pews but this memorial as well, which is a fascinating little piece of social history.
It is to Joan Wadham who died in 1583 after two hubbies and twenty children, hubby number one on the left, John Kelley, and number two on the right, John Wadham, with Joan very unusually pictured kneeling behind each one.
But here is the thing… back then women were only just starting to get out of the ‘all women are property’ thing, and only very aristocratic ladies or major religious ones (the two usually being the same) had their own memorials. Joan was neither of these, so needed to be pictured ‘supporting’ her men with her accomplished child-bearing talent.
Yet she not only appears twice but also her own personal coat of arms, she was born Joan Tregarthin, takes centre stage right bang in the middle.
The inscription below is another more modern innovation, not only because before this period the heraldry alone was the message but also it is commemorating Joan herself.
It is a sign of the winds of change blowing through the country.
Branscombe Church chancel
Approaching the chancel there is this very rare seventeenth century chancel screen taking the place of the medieval rood screen which had been positioned further west at the first tower arch.
The Sanctuary
The door through the screen leads to the beautifully-lit chancel with its fifteenth century east window and fourteenth century sedilia (seating for the clergy) on the far wall, with window above.
One fascination here is the altar surrounded by altar rails, very seventeenth century and wonderfully preserved; the matching original altar table is in the right-hand corner. In Devon of that era, generally speaking…
The nave of the church would be dominated by the pulpit, reading desk and clerks desk at which the daily offices would be celebrated. The chancel was retained as a secondary space for the far less frequent celebrations of Holy Communion.
And these rails and altar table used to be placed about ten meters further inwards with the floor lower, possibly not raised at all, with space for the communicants to kneel around all sides and benches possibly against the walls as we find at Satterleigh.
A special window
The chancel also has two original windows of this design, made for a very specific purpose. The top part would have been glazed normally, stained glass as well very likely, whilst the smaller, lower window would likely have been left unglazed with a shutter for security.
Its function would have been to let air into the chancel, fogged as it could be by incense, candles, torches and the smell of tallow candles… many heavily clothed bodies probably contributed to the reek as well.
Elsewhere in the country, in Norfolk, in a church that did not have this tech, at a funeral in 1466, matters had to be taken in hand and a glazier called in…
To the glaser for takin owte of 2 panes of the windows of the churche for lete owte the reke of the torches at the dirige and soldering new of the same… 20d
In modern English: To the glazier for taking out two panes of the church windows to let out the reek of the torches during the funeral and soldering new ones in place… 20 old pence [about a day’s wages for a skilled tradesman]
Old Parish Life: A Guide for the Curious, J Lovill, 2022
Whilst Branscombe just had to open the shutters.
An aged door
But for me the most magical part of the chancel, and admittedly that is saying a lot in such a richly enchanting space, is this medieval door hidden behind curtains in the north wall; it is delicious turned up to 11.
By rights such a hidden wonder as this should lead to Narnia, but as the Devon landscape is just outside that seems very much the same thing, and I do not know exactly where it does go… except straight into my heart.
The old battered oak, the original ironwork, that patched up hole, the nails holding it together, the grains and knots… and that is before we start on the many hands that opened and closed this beauty, the folk who have passed to and fro, clergy and secular, all with deep love of church and parish.
Dating it seems almost rude, it has such an air of timeless permanence, though original to the fourteenth century I would not be surprised, earlier equally unsurprising. Norman? Now that is a mighty speculative wonder…
The sixteenth century west gallery
Mind you this mighty handsome west gallery is far more easily dateable, around 1580 and worth every penny, the lower part infilled in the twentieth century.
It is said to be one of the first west galleries erected in England, and for sure one of the earliest with an outside staircase (see the very first image). It was also possibly a gift from the Wadhams, the same of that memorial, and was possibly used as their private pew as private pews came into fashion around then, especially as it used to be much shallower.
It was extended further into the nave as its usage changed, seating probably for the poor or children, and/or likely enough for musicians and/or a choir; there is a pre-20th century renovation photograph showing it with steeply banked benches and what looks like a small organ in the middle.
Lust on the wall
Luckily it was not extended far enough to cover this depiction of love amongst the benches, a medieval wall painting (the smart money is on the fifteenth century) with a deal of charm to our modern eyes, though on a closer look that charm starts to look a tad shaky.
Less love than lust, all a bit handsy and not much of smile, with the lady leaning away a tad more than true love might indicate… Nowadays we are bombarded with messages that sensuality is an essential component of love, and indeed that sensuality itself, AKA lust, is standalone bingo, but not so backalong, especially with an insecure life, no STD cures and the Grace of God leading the pack.
Lust speared
Because as we zoom out a skeleton thrusting a spear into the two becomes plain, this is most surely a depiction of lust and its consequences, a word to wise and a warning to the unwise.
Also worth noting is that this pair are very well dressed, this is not just addressed to the peasant, it is a strong statement for the the wealthier to take heed.
It is one of the Seven Deadly Sins, which cover the full range of human foibles leading to spiritual sickness and exile from the presence of the Divine. The parish priest’s job was to help avoid this, the priest having the Cure (care) of Souls, offering medicine for the soul, aiding folk in following the Way of Christ.
Though in league ranking of those sins, Lust was was, by some accounts, the least of all (allowing that plenty of other nasties could tag along with it). Dante put it in the second circle of hell, just after Limbo, with illicit lovers blown around by the bitter stinging winds of their physical passions.
And yet, and yet… when we read the first reference ever to a kiss
My upper lip becomes moist, while my lower lip trembles! I shall embrace him, I shall kiss him.
Akkadian Love Literature of the Third and Second Millennium B.C.E., Nathan Wasserman, translated from a 1900-1595 B.C.E. tablet from Sippar, Mesopotamia
We know that sensuality has its place, as the church would be first to admit with the Song of Solomon, just not to be made an idol of.
A fine old-fashioned monument
And talking of marriage and women’s position in society, this impressive monument is to Anna Bartlett who died in 1606, just twenty or so years after that Joan Wadham of the earlier memorial who had to take second place to her hubbies.
It is beauty, albeit very old fashioned of its age.
Its composition of altar and canopy, minus effigy, is associated with Devon’s standing mural monuments of the 1560s and 1570s and it marks the very last gasp of a phase of post-reformation bulky ‘architectural’ tombs.
Church Monuments and Commemoration in Devon c.1530-c.1640, Christine Faunch, Phd thesis, 1998
There is a bit of mystery here though.
Missing a hubby
Along with the lovely carving of course.
There is room on the inscription for a second person, her husband presumably, yet he makes no appearance. He seems to be mentioned in an inscribed memorial behind the altar as being buried in the church, dying in 1623, though the main person in that memorial is their son.
So why no inclusion of the husband here, especially as he does not seem to have remarried? Maybe this was just too old fashioned by then, or maybe families will just family as ever down through the ages, or… ?
A Norman corbel
In the same south transept, way up on what used to be the nave south wall, is this marvellous Norman corbel carving, roofed over when the transept was added, deep history connecting this church way back…
Serene beauty
Not just the dates and art and theology and architecture and faith and all else that attracts, but this, here, in the sanctuary, this numinous serenity…
Sitting here, resting our souls, listening to the silence and feeling the wonder, has helped many see a world bigger than themselves yet small enough to offer a distinct beauty, a reflection of their own grace, a little insight into the awe of the universe…
And a cracking church into the bargain.
