John Norris Remembers
In this concluding instalment of John Norris's memoirs, John tells us about how St Mary's tower was repaired, and the Trouble With Gargoyles that landed the village in the national news.
THE STORY OF THE REPAIR of St Mary's tower started in early autumn 1963, after my wife heard a loud crash early in the morning whilst she was hanging out the washing. We wondered where this noise could have come from, hoping it was not from our house! I almost dismissed it, but thought it better to look around for trouble.
After finding nothing amiss at home, I went to the churchyard and found a large flint lying on the grass against the porch. This was the culprit, having fallen from the side of the tower, hitting the porch tin roof on it's way to the ground.
We had just experienced a very sharp spell of cold weather with frost both day and night which no doubt had penetrated the walls, and loosened this flint. Over the years much of the clunch (chalk) had weathered away in this manner, so that the whole tower surface was insecure. This action was the likely cause of the spire falling down in the late eighteenth century, it also being built of clunch.
What to do next? The PCC under the guidance of Rev Francis Hicks sought help from the Diocesan Advisory Committee. This resulted in Mr Bourne's partnership doing a survey, and recommending re-facing the tower and making good the ragged top As with many things, what seemed a minor repair turned into a major project costing £200,000 in today's money, and taking just a year to complete.
Plans were prepared, and a model made, so that the design of the finish to the top could be studied Several attempts were made, and finally the "Fleche" we see today was the preferred choice, mounted above a new arcaded final layer to the tower.
Much thought was given to the cost, and how we could meet it. Rattee & Kett were the preferred contractors - their estimate of £15000 had been accepted on the condition that only work that could be paid for was commissioned. The job of treasurer fell to me, and quite a worry it was. We were lucky in that funds had been slowly growing since the restoration in 1902, augmented by a gift from the Rev Fisher in the 1920s.
At this time, Brass Rubbing was very popular, especially with the Americans stationed at Mildenhall. It was so oversubscribed that we had a booking arrangement, both for a day and time. The fees were set at £2 per person for three hours, and were enforced by my wife Marion. During 1964 nearly one thousand pounds was collected. The double yellow lines made parking difficult near the church, as they extended much further than today. The casual rubber (one who had not booked) was easily detected as they had to walk past our kitchen window: their shadow gave them away! This interest continued for some time until the Brass Rubbing Centre was opened in Cambridge, where many replicas were available. Not the same as doing the real thing, but conservation of the old ones was ensured. However, our little nest egg income was subsequently brought to an end.
With the money made, we were able to start work early in 1964. I had just purchased a cine-camera at the time, and resolved to make a record of the progress of the work. The opening scene is of the old building in a snow covered churchyard, and the end is the repaired church also surrounded by snow, just a year later.
The first sign of activity was the erect ion of scaffolding, surrounding the tower from top to bottom. Later workmen chopped away all the loose clunch and the remaining flint stones ( not to be confused with the cartoon characters). The surface was replaced by Barnack stone and small flints bound in by a mortar of lime and flint grit, so that the surface you see to-day is all of this century, and very different from the black and white of the original.
Whilst all this was happening, the fundraising activity was to seek out grant aiding bodies and inform them of our plight. This was quite successful, and together with the Brass Rubbing money, and local donations after updates in the press, we were able to keep the work progressing. As treasurer it was my duty to follow up any source of income, and press articles were very useful.
During the summer the newly carved arcading for the final course arrived, This was duly hoisted into position, and placed on a reinforced concrete ring cast over the top of the old work, to tie it in, and provide a firm foundation. This concrete ring also held the steel beams onto which the fleche was later fixed.
At this time scaffolding was also erected inside the tower so that the remaining beam of the old bell frame could be removed. A pity really, as it was so secure being fourteen inches square, and perfectly sound. It had to go so that the new ceiling could be seen uninterrupted. This scaffold also helped the workmen to raise up the steel beams.
It was during the reconstruction of the upper parts that a gargoyle was found. It seemed that at one time there must have eight, one for each side. So seven more blocks, some eight inches square, were built into the stonework. These were to be carved later before the scaffold was taken away, by Mr Shuffleton the stonemason. He was given three days to carve an image on the seven new blocks, (the original one is directly over the porch). The Vicar suggested the seven deadly sins, but he was politely told that there was no time for any research. So the faces of those who were at work there, or who were seen passing by, were used as models. The architect, the foreman, the Vicar, a director of Rattee & Kett, Mr Jim Sheldrick (the one with a lovely moustache,) one of the workmen, and myself.
My image is overlooking Anglesey House, on the south-west corner of the tower - to keep off all intruders and cowans! This selection was duly mulled over in the Red Lion, and accounts of the dissent reached the local papers. This also appealed to the National press, as the choice may have been somewhat undemocratic. A cartoon by Emmwood appeared in the Daily Mail on 15th December 1964. This sparked interest from many places: students who had biked out to see the two churches when they were students, and many others who sent ten pounds or so, saying well done!
As beer and I do not mix, I was not a patron of the Red Lion, but I tried to keep this story alive for the sake of the finances, "furrener" or not. We were beginning to get a small shortfall in funds, but the contractors said they were sure that in time they would be paid in full, so work carried on with the final phase of putting up the Fleche. The folk depicted in the cartoon are all identifiable, but the fifty year rule prevents me from naming them. (my image was a guess as I was not present).
This final adornment was made from stainless steel by Mackays to Mr Bourne's design. The six sides gave the spire a sense of depth, and were meant to provide extra stability by being welded with a fin at each corner. After construction the forty foot long structure was still not stiff enough, so it was opened up and braces installed internally, substantially increasing the weight. The crown at the top is almost six feet in diameter, but as it is a hundred feet up, it looks much smaller. It arrived on site one misty November morning, with a team of strong men to carry it off the lorry up to the scaffolding.
Martin Bell, then a young reporter for Look East, was present with his cameraman to record the momentous event for the evening news. In the meantime two scaffolding frames had been erected over the top of the tower so that after the fleche had arrived at the top it could be transferred between these new frames which had a rail track on their sides. The upward hoist was electric and its rope fixed just above the point of balance of the fleche. This enabled it to be carried over the top wall and dropped onto the steel frame. After the event Martin Bell came into our garden room for coffee. He told us that his feet were so cold that even the stone slabs of the floor seemed hot to his frozen feet!
It was just as well that a helicopter was not used, as the fleche was three inches too short.
A secure weather joint had to be made at the bottom of the fleche, and this required space to make it. After an hour or so it was lowered onto its resting place where it is visible today.
It is worth mentioning that under the porch roof an area of the original clunch face has been left unaltered except that the pointing has been replaced. Two other interesting features of the softness of clunch, are the grooves cut by a bell rope over the door lintel, and the wear on the steps going up to the old ringing floor. How they managed to get up there safely to ring the bells is a mystery.
On completion the Bishop was asked to rededicate the tower, but refused to do so until the final bill was paid. At the time two thousand pounds were owing, so I had a whip round of those with a bob or two. We raised the money by loans, repayable when we could. A year later fifty pounds each was in hand, but they all refused the cash and converted their loan into a gift. So in 1965 a service of dedication was held just before the Vicar retired.
The churchwardens, Mr Ken Taylor and Mr Betts, also left the village at this time. So also did Mr Gill the PCC secretary. A new team was elected to welcome the new vicar, Rev Robin Ellis. He arrived with a young family, who found the old vicarage totally unsuitable for their needs: a large damp building with poor facilities, and in need of repairs everywhere. The house in Lower End where Mr Taylor lived was the vicarage until a new one was built next to the churchyard in Greenhead Road, several years later.
So many vicarages at that time were so unsuited to modern needs that they were sold for peanuts. The one in this village sold for six thousand pounds, together with six acres of land. Some forty years later the cognoscente occupy such buildings after expensive repairs; but their original grandeur usually shines through, and they are splendid homes.
This was the end of a very busy year and a half, and those involved - and there were many - felt it was a job well done.