Showing posts with label SHARP. Show all posts
Showing posts with label SHARP. Show all posts

March 04, 2020

BBC Upload, BBC Radio Norfolk Interview and Norfolk on Film (tumblr)

Great to see our bicentenary commemoration of the 1819 Thunderstorm and the tragic story of Susan Nobes now has a permanent home here on BBC Norfolk.

As featured on https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p0832p98 (exactly one hour in) 

For those who have come to this blog from those links, here is some extra information from last summer. I particularly recommend this 12 minute extravaganza a one off dramatic representation of the 1819 storm and its accounts  

BICENTENARY EVENTS COMMEMORATING THE 1819 THUNDERSTORM

A small group of historians and creative artists will on Friday July 5 2019 mark the bicentenary of the Thunderstorm That Took Place In Sedgeford in the County of Norfolk on Fifth July 1819” a storm so violent it was recorded in the Register of World News blasting a yardwide hole in the Church tower and taking the life of Susan Nobes, a 14 year old village girl. There are 2 events planned.
  1. At the Ladywell, a memorial for Susan hosted by village historian Tim Snelling. Sedgeford residents poet Gareth Calway and harpist Vanessa Wood-Davies will share their "Ballad of Susan Nobes" (https://soundcloud.com/gaz29-1/the-ballad-of-susan-nobes-performed-loveheartsredwine) along with Gareth's reading of Janet Hammond's distinctive verses about the tragedy and the Ladywell boulder. Finally, Andy Wall and Gareth will sing and play their new especially composed "Elegy for Susan Nobes."  All of this event will be filmed and be made publicly available online.
  2. At the Boneyard Field, in starting at 7.30 pm, in a showcase evening Gareth Calway, Melanie Calway, Vanessa Wood-Davies and Andy Wall and will perform an evening of musical histories. The centre piece of this evening event will be  a one off dramatic representation of the 1819 storm and its accounts at 9 pm (online films of much of this are also available) 
During the dreadful thunderstorm on the Evening of July 5th the electric fluid struck the top of Sedgeford Church Steeple on the West Side, and precipitated to the ground several stones of considerable magnitude making a breach in the wall of about a yard square. The lightning also passed through the Church entering in at a window near the porch on the South side; and after crossing in a North East direction, it made its escape at two places in an upper window near the Chancel on the North side". (as reported in the Times, the Ipswich Journal and the Register of World News 1819-20)
"Come the evening, folk were going about their daily tasks, working in the fields while birds sweetly sang. The teacher sat in the porch waiting for the schoolmaster to appear before Bible reading class could begin, meanwhile the attending children happily played, running up and down the churchyard, little knowing the impending doom that was to befall them. The schoolmaster duly arrived, readings began and when done was followed with a final hymn, 'Oh let me, heavenly Lord extend, My view to life's approaching end... . "(Religious tract 1819, probably by the then Curate of Sedgeford.) 

April 15, 2019

Desperately Researching Susan: The Thunderstorm at Sedgeford July 5 1819 by Gareth Calway and Tim Snelling

“The evening (July 5, 1819, in the pretty Norfolk village of Sedgeford) was most beautiful. The birds sang sweetly. People were busy working in the fields, men and women with hooks around bundles and sheaves of corn and all was peace and quietness… The schoolmistress saw Susan Nobes remarkably active and happy...” Religious Tract (British Library)

On July 5 2019 a group of artists, historians and archaeologists - including the village historian, poet and harpist - will mark the 200th anniversary of a natural catastrophe that not only brought a Norfolk village to its knees but kept it there in a severe trial - and then a rather stony re-assertion - of its traditional beliefs.  "The Thunderstorm That Took Place in Sedgeford in the County of Norfolk on Fifth July 1819" not only found its way into the Annual Register of World Events 1819-20 but recurred as the subject of mainstream Judgement Day religious tracts published in 1819, revisited in similar millenarian vein in the then Curate's brief history of Sedgeford in 1895 and finally again in a family account published in 1914, over a century later. 

This might be because the Thunderstorm's main target was the 14C Church tower - in which lightning scorched a yard-wide hole - and its tragic victim a member of a Monday Night Bible Class. Susan Nobes, the 14 year old daughter of an agricultural labourer housed in the village's Poor Housing, not only lost her life in terrifying circumstances but suffered the later indignity of being remembered only as the moral point of a lecture about the need for children to live in perpetual readiness for Death and Judgment. Nowadays we might remember her - and the storm - with awed sympathy and a plaque on the church wall but, apart from the present writers,  and even in a village with a resident historical and archaeological dig of 20 years standing, her story is still a surprise to locals.

Historian Tim Snelling and Poet Gareth Calway came across it during separate village searches in the British Library and compiled it in their respective ways - Snelling in a historical record, Calway in "The Ballad of Susan Nobes" since set to music by folk-harpist Vanessa Wood-Davies, his bandmate in the four strong folk/storytelling band The Penland Phezants, (featuring veterans folkie Andy Wall on guitar and vocals and Maz Calway, vocals, alongside poet/drummer and harpist/vocal harmonies) who will perform The Storm at Sedgeford in 1819 and Other Stories at the Sedgeford Archaeological Dig on Friday July 5. 

Tickets - https://www.sharp.org.uk/events-1/the-penland-phezants

Words and music of "The Ballad of Susan Nobes" were published in "Doin' Different- New Ballads From the East of England" (Poppyland 2016.) A recording has since passed a thousand plays worldwide on Soundcloud; a bi-centenary film got a hundred views on You Tube in its two weeks. But it was only when the poet contacted Snelling to ask if he could perform a private memorial for Susan on his farmland adjacent the church - at the Ladywell, a probable Saxon holy site - that each realised the other had plans to remember July 5 1819. 

How we think about such natural events seems a world apart from then. Not many now would view Susan's death as an Act of God, at any rate not a Christian fire-and-brimstone kind of God. We might be more inclined to interrogate the Sunday School's Health and Safety Policy and the actions of the teacher in loco parentis and feel the father's tragic loss of a beloved daughter cut off in her prime before we made a moral lesson of it. We also might worry more about climate change and how well our fire and rescue service is funded than we might about our children's 'sinfulness' (playing around in the graveyard before school rather than saying her prayers.)  

1819 was no stranger to climate change, however.  In 1816, the eruption of Mount Tambora in Indonesia sent thick volcanic dust across the whole of Europe and America, causing massive crop failure, floods, hailstones and 'orange snow in July." (The early industrial revolution and the unprecendeted amount and power of sustained artillery fire released during the decades of Napoleonic Wars were also key factors.) Lord Byron famously described a gothic "darkness at noon" in Switzerland and his fellow author Mary Shelley's stormy 'Frankenstein' was also partly written in response to that dismal "year without a summer". The volcanic turbulence and wintry summer was also generally interpreted then as God's wrath rather than as Man-created climate change.

A comparable event in recent years would be the May 2007 deluge day when the entire village of Sedgeford (pop. 613) was cut off after a sudden, once-in-a-lifetime downpour that, within 15 minutes, brought the village to a standstill with roads cut off by hillwash and mud slides and all access roads flooded with waters amassing at the lowest point of Cole Green, submerging the ground floors of roadside cottages. Four fire engines spent hours at the scene and some cottages were still being restored a year later. 

But in July1819 the villagers were dealing with something even more ferocious. Calway's ballad sets the tragedy in the still feudal village society of the time and keeps to the facts, only framing these as a ghost story and adding a contemporary slant by identifying Susan's former cottage as a modern holiday home. "Come out in the dark lane" - experience the 'real' Norfolk - calls Susan's ghost to the holidaying teenager within. She then relates the events leading up to the storm and her being struck by lightning. 

The following detail is drawn from the two known contemporary sources:
            1. A short newspaper report in the Ipswich Journal dated July 24th 1819. (In an age before local and regional newspapers, Ipswich - a distant county away from West Norfolk - was the nearest 'local' coverage.)



 2. a religious tract written shortly after the event for and published by the Religious Tract Society. (1819) 'The Thunderstorm That Took Place in Sedgeford in the County of Norfolk on Fifth July 1819 with Remarks and Observations for the use of Sunday Scholars, and other young persons.' 

The Ballad of Susan Nobes (video of bicentenary performance) was based on a critical reading of these 1819 primary sources (notably a questioning of the religious tract's fire and brimstone assumptions) which slightly disagree. 

Harpist Vanessa Wood-Davies and Poet Gareth Calway, composer/ writers of "The Ballad of Susan Nobes": a screenshot from the film of their January 2019 performance.

Any smugness at my apparent scholarly 'exclusive' (an accidental one, while searching the British Library's Sedgeford annals for the construction date of our cottage) was conditioned by an anxiety that I had imagined it. So I was actually relieved when Tim  mentioned his own plans to feature the 1819 Thunderstorm in the village newsletter this summer; then proceeded to share a wealth of documents (including copies of BL and county records pertaining to the storm and local evidence of where Susan lived, names of parents, siblings, classmates etc which I had only half established in my own researches.) He also unearthed some verses his mother Janet had written about the storm and Susan's demise which long predate mine.


Tim also had hard evidence (which I hadn't been able to find) of where Susan lived - in the village's Town House (Poor Housing) a row of four tiny houses opposite 'the Washpit'.

The Town House of Sedgeford (extract from)

Janet Hammond
In 1960, in pursuance of a Closing Order, the greater part of what were then known as Numbers 3 and 4 Washpit Cottages, Sedgeford were demolished.  The remaining part was retained because the west gable of the condemned cottages was the east gable of the adjoining pair of cottages. These were not tied into the gable just butted onto it.  For this reason planning permission was applied for, and obtained, to leave sufficient of the walls under a sloping lean-to roof, in which to house a garage and downstairs bathroom; these would act as buttresses to the gable end.  So by chance about a quarter of the seventeenth century Town House was saved.
History
Towards the end of the reign of Elizabeth the problem of the poor was becoming urgent and in 1601 a law was passed which remained the basis for administration of Poor Relief until the nineteenth century.  One of the provisions of the act was the encouragement to build a Poor house where indigent parishioners could be housed and work found for them to do. These Town or Alms houses were frequently built by wealthy philanthropic landowners.  The Town house of Sedgeford was built by Richard Stubbs just before 1617, as in his will dated 1617 he leaves money to the poor of Sedgeford living in his alms house newly built. This house remained the Town House until 1837 when it and the Pest House (formerly standing on Goodmins next to the cottages opposite the church gate) were sold to defray Sedgeford's expenses in providing the new Docking Union Workhouse at Burntstalk1.  At this time the Town House was described as being two cottages and the Pest House as four cottages. Looking at early maps it would appear the latter was still standing until the early part of the twentieth century.

During the two centuries of its existence as a Town House odd glimpses can be
found of it in the manuscripts of the Le Strange and Rolfe families and the Parish. One is
a copy of a letter to Sir Nicholas LeStrange - a great grandson of Richard Stubbs - as
follows:-
May the 29th day 1687
"We the Minister, Churchwardens, Overseers and Chief Inhabitants of the Towne
of Sedgford in the County of Norff whose names are hereunder written doe humbly
testifie unto the Right Worshipfull Sir Nicholas LeStrange of Hunstanton in the
County aforesaid Baronet that we have placed in your Almes howse in Sedgford
aforesayd during you worships pleasure theise persons whose names are hereunder
specified as followeth
Alexander Pawle and his familie; wid(ow) Robinson and her cripple; Anne
Bullocke and Alice (? ); Elizabeth (Tusnt?) Wid(ow) Minne: Alice Minne and
Mary Rice

Willi~ Waters, Vic(ar) Will Palmer ) Churchwardens
Edw. Smith ) Overseers Robt Collen )
Adam Roythorn ) Tho. Rose, ffra Holland. 2
Another was a small book made by Neville Rolfe in 1829, which, although called
a Census of the Poor, 3 seems to have listed all the inhabitants of Sedgeford except the
larger freehold and tenant farmers. In this several households are described as living in the town's houses rent free.



This gave me a clearer context for the rapid swelling of floodwater along the valley coming off Dove Hill in my Ballad (as well as down the steep slope of what is now Goodminns estate). (A context still current; notably in the storm of 2007.) Susan's father is unnamed in the tract but is called Robert (Nobbs) in the news report.  Janet's copy of the records has him as Henry, Susan as Susannah and her mother as Mary. 

Janet Hammond's copy of the Sedgeford Church baptism records.

Tim Snelling, Sedgeford Village Historian, with some of Janet's many documents pertaining the storm and Susan Nobes.

The backdrop for the private bicentenary performance The Ballad of Susan Nobes scheduled for July 5 2019. The church tower is to the left of the picture, mostly concealed by trees. Note the spooky shadow-cross!

An Elegy for Susan Nobes, written in 2019 and based on the verse form of Janet Hammond's poem (see above), will also be performed at the location photographed below, the Ladywell
The Ladywell in March (GC)

I also asked Tim if there was any evidence that the Ladywell had a sacred function in pagan Saxon times.

"there is no evidence as such, but I think Mum assumed it would have been 
regarded in such light given that the Well spring was marked by an erratic 
boulder that must have been hauled and brought over from some nearby ice-age 
glacial deposition site. But the Ladywell as we know it today would not have 
been the pond it is now - that has been widened out both in the past and in 
more recent times. It would have originally been a little spring fed rivulet 
meandering down to the main river course. Mum also wrote a poem about the 
Erratic Boulder in the vein of Beowulf." (Tim Snelling)




The Ladywell and Erratic Boulder in April (Tim Snelling)

South view of Sedgeford Church and the tower. Susan died in the vestry below it.


The most significant divergence between Religious Tract and 1819 news report is that the Tract describes Susan's death as "there were black zig-zag lines on her side where the lightning had stuck her" and the newspaper suggests she died of fear. Either has the elemental implacability (death, fate, wild weather, human littleness in a vast universe) of the ballad form but I, like Janet, followed the (locally written?) religious tract. A lightning strike fits better the tract's sense of a vengeful God - Tim is more inclined to trust the 'detached' news report  than a polemic - but  I'm not sure the local Curate Dr Bacon (assuming it was he who wrote it) would get away with falsifying a detail that bereaved and grieving (albeit low born and unnamed) parents among his parishioners might dispute; whereas the Ipswich Journal was then an awfully long way away. But let Tim now summarise the complete story with all the documentary evidence and different possibilities we have-

Storm 200 by Tim Snelling

The 5th of July 2019 will mark the 200th anniversary of a catastrophic event that all but brought the village to its knees and sorely tested their faith. 

The following detail is drawn from four known sources:
                  1. A short newspaper report in the Ipswich Journal dated July 24th 1819.
                  2. 'The Thunderstorm That Took Place in Sedgeford in the County of Norfolk on Fifth July 1819 with                          Remarks & Observations for the use of Sunday Scholars, and other young persons', a religious tract                            written shortly after the event for and published by the Religious Tract Society.(1819)
                  3. Sedgefordiana' - a brief history of Sedgeford by Rev. A. Ogle, (c.1895).
                  4. Rolfe Family Records Vol.II - compiled by RT & A Gunther (1914)
These four accounts in general agree, but with the odd glaring discrepancy. For the most part the tract must be seen for what it was, promoting the ideology of Christian beliefs and dogma re. 'cometh the day', whilst Ogle's account written some 76 years after the event, is drawn from the tract which, though author unknown, Ogle believes to have been 'written by Dr. Bacon, who was Curate at the time'. Ogle's entry in his Sedgefordiana will have inevitably been based on the already heavily slanted Christian dogma of the tract and hearsay tales that will have expanded and embellished the event over the ensuing 75 years. Gunther merely provides a much abridged version of Ogle's account. It would seem the truth of it lies closer to the event recorded in the short news item in the Ipswich Journal. There were no local newspapers at that time.

It is interesting to note that in neither the news item nor the tract, the two main characters are named, they are simply the lady teacher and the master. The Rev. Ogle however puts a name to these people after a leading preamble. The known copy of the tract is in the British Library, but a recent archive research reveals that another copy of the tract is in the Norwich Record Office under a reference title 'Life and Stewardship of Eustace Neville Rolfe, 1845 - 1908' (Ref. GUN 32 363 x 1) along with other 'notes' belonging to Mrs Catherine Frances Rolfe, Eustace's great-great-aunt who, as it happens, is the lady teacher so named by the Rev. Ogle. When Mrs. Rolfe died in 1837, such was her religious calling and devotion, she left relatively large bequests to many religious societies; indeed, one might wonder if it wasn't actually the 'lady teacher' who was the author of the tract. The master was named as William Harrison.

Monday the 5th July 1819 had been a typical mild warm summers day. Come the evening, folk were going about their daily tasks, working in the fields while birds sweetly sang. The teacher sat in the porch waiting for the schoolmaster to appear before Bible reading class could begin, meanwhile the attending children happily played, running up and down the churchyard, little knowing the impending doom that was to befall them. The schoolmaster duly arrived, readings began and when done was followed with a final hymn, 'Oh let me, heavenly Lord extend, My view to lif's approaching end... .'which, in view of what was about to happen, was very timely sung! Sometime before flashes of lightning had been seen through the church window. A warm summer storm was not unusual and nothing was to be feared of it, so the teacher continued to the end of the class and even as the lightning grew closer the master continued in prayer. Then at 9pm a thunderstorm was unleashed, the magnitude of which had never been witnessed in living memory. 

The Ipswich Journal: "During the dreadful thunderstorm on the Evening of July 5th the electric fluid struck the top of Sedgeford Church Steeple on the West Side, and precipitated to the ground several stones of considerable magnitude making a breach in the wall of about a yard square. The lightning also passed through the Church entering in at a window near the porch on the South side; and after crossing in a North East direction, it made its escape at two places in an upper window near the Chancel on the North side".The Rev. A. Ogle later recorded in his 'Sedgefordiana'that "The Church was struck by lightning, whilst a water-spout was falling upon it';  

This catastrophic event was worthy enough for the newspaper report to find its way into the Annual Register of World Events 1819-20. A comparable event in recent years would be the May 2007 deluge day when the entire village was cut off after a sudden and unprecedented downpour that within the space of 15 minutes, had brought the village to a standstill with roads cut off by hillwash and mud slides and all access roads flooded with waters amassing at the lowest point of Cole Green, submerging the ground floors of roadside cottages. In July1819 the villagers were dealing with something far more ferocious. 

Such was the force of the lightning strike that stones from the tower were dislodged and thrown down to the ground and "the water poured in almost deep enough to drown, forcing its way into the graves within the Church."That would have been bad enough, but this occurred at the same time Mrs Catherine Frances Rolfe, the village squires wife, and the Master, William Harrison, were holding a Bible reading class for the  young children, in the vestry which was situated immediately below and between the tower and the south porch where the lightning first entered the church. The news report continues: "An Evening School was being held previous to the occurrence, which happened about 9.p.m. The dismay may be better conceived than described. The children, nearly in a state of distraction, uttering the most dreadful shrieks; parents in search of their children, incessant lightning with peals of thunder, and torrents of rain such as had never been remembered, formed a scene truly terrific."

"Now some time before this they had seen flashes of lightning through the church window. It was very awful, but the lady thought that they were well enough employed, and she did not wish that they should go away before they had done. When the singing was over they all knelt down to pray. The lightning rapidly increased and seemed to fill the window with a blaze of light. But the master went on praying in a very earnest manner. He is one who loves Christ, and I dare say he thought that if he, or any of his little flock were to be struck dead, they could not do better than die on their knees, seeking mercy from Jesus. So he did not pray less because of the storm, but longer; though it was so very dreadful that all present really thought they should soon be killed. You may fancy how awful it was, when I tell you thata thunder­bolt struck the steeple and forced down a beam from the roof just over the door of the vestry where they all were. Large stones were also broken off the steeple. The noise was like the sound of a great gun close by, and there was a strong smell of brimstone. The lady, the master and two girls were struck down by the lightning. One of the girls, Catherine Frary, was in an agony of terror, crying out "Indeed, I will strive to sin no more." The children were so frightened that they began to scream and ran about as if they were beside themselves. The lady begged them not to run away from her... but they all ran away, except the master and the children who stayed with the lady in a corner of the church."

The Rev Ogle tells us that " A beam was displaced, large stones were displaced and fell down from the steeple, and Mrs Rolfe, the Master, and two children were struck down... Whereas the tract states that"By and by it gave over thundering and lightning. The lady and the master, and the children who had stayed with them, then knelt down and thanked God for having kept them safe among so much danger... the father of Susan Nobes came to inquire after his daughter. He had been waiting at home for some time, anxiously expecting her return for he was a man who dearly loved his children, and though he could not keep them from the dangers of such a dreadful storm, yet it was natural for him to wish to have them about him at such an awful time. So after looking for her in vain, he went to the church and not finding her, he went with the lady and the schoolmaster into the vestry, and, after looking about, they found poor Susan lying in a corner behind the  door and would fain have persuaded himself she was only in a fit; but her head hung back, there were black zig-zag lines on her side where the lightning had struck her, and he soon found that he was only embracing her dead body and that the soul had gone". 

The news report makes no mention of 'zig-zag lines' or any other scorch marks, in fact it clearly states that "Fear is supposed to have been the cause of death, as there was no appearance of the electric fluid having entered the room. A few pieces of mortar were detached from the ceiling, which in all probability was effected by the shock communicated to the steeple, or by the concussion of the stones falling to the ground."Susan father is named as Robert in the news report but parish records reveal that her father was a Henry Nobes, husband to Mary (nee Creed). Henry was a farm labourer and the family lived at "the little cottage called the Town House, at the foot of Corner Stone hill, pulled down and rebuilt by Mr Herbert Binks in 1888."The Town House was Sedgeford's Poor House for the most needy. In 1960, the site was a row of 4 cottages called Washpit of which the two nearest to the main road were condemned but partly saved under new ownership. In due course the remaining 2½ cottages were knocked into one. 




December 14, 2016

St Felix - from here to Eternity (EDP article)

He came to England from his native Burgundy in c 631. He fixed his episcopal see as the Bishop of Dunwich, then a thriving Suffolk seaport, ruling his diocese for 17 years. He died in c648. His name survives in Felixstowe. His legacy, according to the available 8th century sources, is nationwide and eternal.

The Venerable Bede in his "Ecclesiastical History of the English People" (c731) tells us how the evangelical exertions of Sigeberht, King of East Anglia, converted in exile, "were nobly promoted by Bishop Felix, who, coming to Honorius, the archbishop, from the parts of Bergundy, where he had been born and ordained… was sent by him to preach the Word of life to the aforesaid nation of the Angles "and delivered "all the province of East Anglia from long-standing unrighteousness and unhappiness." Praise indeed.

The only other documentary source - the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle - sings from the same hymn sheet. A gentler, kinder civilisation blew in from Christian Europe and the heathen English embraced it. Felix Culpa!

This felicitous 'golden age' - the century between Christian conversion and the Viking invasions - is usually consigned to the mists of romance. A time of wonders,  saints' miracles and folk tales.

Like the one about St Felix's triumphant entry to England. A tempest forced him inland up the Babingley River, between Castle Rising and Wolferton in West Norfolk. Such was its ferocity that he could not escape it unaided and a colony of beavers came to his rescue: a 'miracle' celebrated on the Babingley village sign which includes both Saint Felix and a beaver being handed a bishop's mitre by the grateful saint! A reminder that beavers were native fauna until the 16C and, incidentally, evidence that this faith-story is a very old one.


But we no longer have to abandon Felix's golden age to the 'non-history' which Christian scholar C.S Lewis calls "one of those phantom periods for which the historian searches in vain."
Because last month, at waterlogged Great Ryburgh, those down-to-earth diggers stuck their shovel in. Trial trenches put in by archaeologist Matt Champion ahead of landowner Gary Boyce's  planning application for a lake and flood defence system revealed 6 plank-lined Anglo-Saxon graves, believed to be the oldest of their kind found in Britain, alongside 81 coffins made from hollowed oak trunks.


Finding intact timber graves of this age is almost miraculous, due to wood’s tendency to leave little more than a smudge in the earth. “The combination of acidic sand and alkaline water created the perfect conditions for the skeletons and wooden graves to survive,” explained excavation leader James Fairclough.

Traces of a timber structure believed to have been a church were also found. The fact the graves face East, with timber posts but no grave goods, suggest the dead were Christians (not Roman or prehistoric.) Historic England believes the exceptionally well-preserved graves (with their consequent clarity of details of Anglo-Saxon practices) date from between the 7th and 9th centuries and were "the final resting place for a community of early Christians." The historic bishop St Felix would have been known to such a community.

Research continues as to where the bodies came from, how they were related and what their diet and health was like.
Meanwhile, to get an early prediction of what the archaeology might tell us about these converted Christian communities, I contacted Gary Rossin, director of the Historical and Archeological research project in Sedgeford. The Sedgeford dig has documented 300 Saxon Christian burials over 20 years but, intriguingly,  only 10 were in coffins - most were shroud or crouch burials. Coffins normally indicate status. 81 coffins is a lot of status.

Mr Rossin added that Christian conversion will often be archaeologically indicated by changes to a more ascetic diet - fish, eggs and milk often preferred to red meat - and the promotion of metalwork and literacy (for the monks, indicated by styli). These very rapid cultural changes following conversion were typically top-down, the model being St Felix's partnership with the convert King Sigeberht. "He probably wouldn't have gone direct to the village blacksmith," commented Mr Rossin.

Christianization would be evidenced in a new template, a new standardized ordering of society, new layouts of buildings and burials. While the new broom of Christianity didn't make a clean sweep of the existing culture, it nudged and pushed everything in a Christian direction. A society being led away - if not from a belief in the miraculous and supernatural per se - then at least from fetishistic beliefs and heathen practices towards a more rational and enlightened spirituality. St Felix rocks up and everything changes. Very quickly.



Felix really started something. We may think of our round-towered Saxon churches (Norfolk has 124 of the 185 still standing in England) as monuments of ancient Christianity  but Felix was there earlier, building in wood (the main material for church buildings in East Anglia for 400 years after him.) And his missionaries chose sites that have remained 'holy' longer than even stone can stand.  Ecclesiastical foundations and missionary stations were often established among Roman ruins, because of the desire for the ideals of Roman culture ('romanitas') and to associate Christianity with it. Early Christians also liked the way ruins marked off the religious world from the everyday.

The site of the ruined church of St James on the crest of a slight hill at Bawsey on what is now in the Gaywood valley of West Norfolk is thought to have provided the missionaries just this required division of the worldy from the holy, combined with an easy navigation into the world they wished to evangelize
What St Felix brought to these islands certainly endures. The unusual church of Saint Andrew in Great Ryburgh, with its Saxon round tower and distinctive cruciform shape (and chancel re-ordered in 1912 to give a feeling of space and light) is testament to the ability of Christianity to re-invent its evangelizing spirit through time. It is fitting to see, on its famous Screen, on which Saints are depicted and named, St. Felix included, as 1st Bishop of East Anglia, 630. 

Much else has altered, even East Anglian geography. St James' at Bawsey no longer occupies the 'otherworldy' location it did, flung out to sea on the raised Bawsey peninsula and marked off by a substantial ditch. It is now several miles inland.


The original hub of St Felix's mission, Dunwich, once a Roman fort and the capital of a Saxon Kingdom, denoted in Domesday Book as one of the largest ports on the east coast with a thriving fishing industry and around 3,000 residents,  is today a few cottages, a church, a pub, a small visitor centre and the ruins of a friary, with a population of about 100.


Coastal erosion, coupled with the growing spit of land, actually created by the 13C a near perfect harbour, where ships from the Continent could be safe from gales. Dunwich boomed. But by the 14C, the old port had to be abandoned. Over 400 houses were swept away in a single storm. In the 17C, the sea washed out the high street and reached the market place.  

St Felix's holy foundations appear to have been stronger. The coasts of East Anglia may crumble but his "Word of life to the aforesaid nation of the Angles" has lasted not just to Domesday but a thousand years beyond.


April 06, 2016

Suffolk Norfolk Life Ray Thirkettle



West Norfolk electrician Ray Thirkettle, late of this parish, is really looking forward to the winter.

No, you’re not reading a back copy of SNL by mistake. Six months ago, when Ray was a career electrician at King’s Lynn’s QEH hospital, winter was de-icing the car on a frosty November morning in Heacham.

But since late November, he has been attached to the British Antarctic Survey (BAS) on South Georgia, a remote island in the south Atlantic, a thousand miles of cold blue water east of the Falklands and about the same north from the icy northern tip of Antarctica. Fully supported by wife of 32 years, Pauline, he has seized this chance to fulfil his lifelong dream. Thirteen months at the cutting edge of science.

Equipped with a spirit of adventure, his OU Science degree and plenty of spare underpants (last time he went down under for BAS he forgot to pack any) his ‘summer’ is now over. The nearest it’s got to Heacham is an occasional boat trip ferrying scientists around a South Atlantic bay (weather permitting); a view of seals… glaciers and penguins (blizzards permitting) and the prospect of snow remaining high up over the mountains.

So why is he looking forward to a long sub-zero winter beginning in March?  Well, believe it or not, he wants some peace and quiet.

Summer in South Georgia is, like Heacham, its busiest time. This year, along with the native penguins, South Georgia pintails, and Pipits (the world’s most southerly songbird) Ray has seen flocks of visiting scientists; natural history film crews; builders renovating the old whaling station of Grytviken; two surprise visitors from Nordelph West Norfolk delivering his New Year copy of the EDP (with a front cover feature about himself in it) and what Ray calls ‘the helicoptering rat people’.

Rat people? Is Ray seeing things? Has something in the daily home-baked bread gone to his head?

No, rat people doesn’t mean some fabulous antipodean hybrid of man and rat. It means the South Georgia Rat Eradication Project which arrived in January in three clattering helicopters, bringing a truck and18 extra people, doubling the number of trucks on the island – to two – and almost doubling its population!


The world’s largest and most ambitious rat eradication attempt – which has since successfully cleared the entire island - headlined BBC news bulletins in January and remains a news item at http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/science-environment-30922255

The presence of rats was monitored with traps - known locally as ‘Rat hotels’- and indicator stations containing a knob of peanut butter flavoured wax, which apparently, rats find irresistible.

Serviced by the ‘Shackleton’, 90 tons of a special bait were dropped from hoppers slung underneath their 3 helicopters, requiring 300 drums of fuel in an ecological restoration projected to take at least two months. Rats and mice were unwittingly introduced to the island by sealing and whaling ships as early as the 19th century and have caused devastation to the native bird population.

The most telling indicator of success is a noticeable increase in some bird species. The South Georgia Pintail and South Georgia Pipit are now seen in numbers. Petrel and Prion species are expected to follow and the long term hope is that many Albatross species will return to South Georgia to breed.

So one way or another, Ray’s summer escape has been a rat race. He is now looking forward to sharing his winter desert island with just his eight fellow BAS employees and the four resident government officers.

The BAS is there to assess and manage our response to climate change. The retreat of the rugged and mountainous island’s glaciers, for instance, has implications for us all. BAS is also there to pioneer modern sustainable fishing. – the reverse of the island’s previous function as a whaling station ( Grytviken, pictured) pursuing practices Ray judges by modern standards as “revolting”. Whale bones still haunt the area.

The BAS base is self-sustaining, using a state of the art British Hydro-Turbine (pictured) to supply free electricity. Ray spent one inclement summer day, happily indoors, restoring this heart of the island’s community life, when it jammed up with stones washed in from the inlet. His technical expertise in servicing this turbine will be at a premium during the long dark days ahead.

It’s not all work. Jolly Christmas parties at the base were captured in outdoor pictures of glorious snow-capped summer mountains. Not a bad little escape from the Christmas madness. And, whatever the weather – even in summer the boats are often kept in harbour – the views are never less than spectacular. Then there are the informal regattas. An island boat club has been formed!

Ray’s previous stint– at Halley station on ice, Antarctica – attracted world-class chefs looking for an adventurous addition to their CV. The food is more prosaic on South Georgia, with each member of the team taking it in turns to cook.

What’s on the menu, I ask- Fish? Seal? King Penguin? Whale? Yeti? Rat?

Not these days. It’s more likely to be the seals eating Ray – either natural inquisitiveness (pictured) or, more recently seal pups needling the hands that weigh them.

But no-one goes to South Georgia for the cuisine. Today (and tomorrow and tomorrow)’s menu is cheese, pizzas, stews, hot pot and (Ray’s speciality) macaroni cheese, courtesy of cooking lessons from Pauline (an excellent cook) prior to his posting.

An ocean of powdered milk too. It takes four days to sail from the Falklands to King Edward Point. A boat too far for the milkman methinks.

The base canteen is running low on syrup and it’s an awfully long way to the shops! Tins of pears are still popular but the same cannot be said for the asparagus soup. There are rumours that gallons were fobbed off on all the summer visitors (who liked it- there’s no accounting for taste) but Ray “couldn’t possibly comment.”

Ah that frontier spirit! Shackleton would have been proud. He is buried on the island, facing the South Pole (see picture) as he requested. “Though there are conspiracy theories,” says Ray mysteriously.

Perhaps he is expecting something dark and ghostly to descend over the expats this winter. It would make a great down-under version of Agatha Christie’s ‘And Then There Were None’. Will they survive? Will they save the planet? I’ll keep you posted.

You can continue to follow Ray’s progress through the entire extended stay (15 months) until his return here