Bloxham, Oxfordshire

Together again

Some time ago I posted a curious capital from the church at Ludgershall in Buckinghamshire in which, instead of the usual plain mouldings or carvings of foliage there were figures with linked arms. I hinted in that post that there were other churches in this part of England with similar capitals – and in fact I remembered that many years ago I'd been in the grand church in Bloxham in Oxfordshire, where I remembered something along the same lines.

I finally returned to Bloxham to check my memories, and this is what I found. This 14th-century capital is more ornately carved than the one at Ludgershall, but shows a similar design, with linked arms, However, the male figure also has a shield bearing a cross and the female wears a floral head-dress, is surrounded by leaves, and is being assailed by a beast of some kind. The column, with its cluster of attached shafts is highly elaborate too, and there is a further touch of ornament around the top of the capital – a band of moulding decorated with bellflowers (a favourite 14th-century motif) and tiny heads.

So is the male figure, with his crossed shield and the staff weapon just visible in his right hand St George? And is the odd beast by the lady's head some provincial carver's idea of the dragon that the saint has come to slay? I don't know. As is so often the case, medieval church carving has left me pondering, but visually nourished.

Ludgershall, Buckinghamshire

All together now

Although sometimes I can’t resist writing about great architecture like that of Lincoln Cathedral, this blog usually focuses on more ordinary buildings. So, much as I enjoy ornate ecclesiastical spaces, grand country house vistas, and great art on the walls, I’m often to be found squinting hopefully up back streets and poking about in small parish churches. It’s my view that such unregarded places and spaces often have something for all of us to enjoy, and I like sharing my enjoyment.

This capital, which is just about the first thing you see when you open the door of St Mary’s, Ludgershall, seemed to sum up such ideas of sharing and togetherness. The church dates mostly from the 14th and 15th centuries, and in a 14th-century church in a remote village, you’d normally expect simple octagonal pillars (as we have here) with fairly plain moulded capitals. But on this capital and two others (one a close cousin to this but without the linking arms, another showing just heads) a local mason has gone for something more adventurous.

We’re not looking at the work of a master carver here but that’s not the point. It was enough that whoever carved this capital (and perhaps some similar ones across the border in Oxfordshire, which I hope to find soon) could make people smile. And perhaps suggest some symbolism too. What does it say? The church (or the people) united? Auld lang syne? Anachronistically, I just think of it as All together now.