UK - Essex - Buttsbury (St Mary's Church) 54198310602_b0b0cd6901_b
UK - Hertfordshire - Cuffley (St. Andrew Church) 54199637840_9bafdb27ab_b
UK - Buckinghamshire - Ibstone (St Nicholas Church) 54199637845_31f26c5a2d_b
St Mary's, Quantoxhead This is St Mary's bell tower with its one bell. Unlike some bell towers that were added later, and others that collapsed and had to be rebuilt, this one seems to have been planned from the start and been robust. On the right is the font, which dates from the 15th century.
St Mary's, Quantoxhead This is St Mary's bell tower with its one bell. Unlike some bell towers that were added later, and others that collapsed and had to be rebuilt, this one seems to have been planned from the start and been robust. There are a few fragments of medieval glass at the top of the west window.
St Mary's, Quantoxhead This is St Mary's bell tower with its one bell. Unlike some bell towers that were added later, and others that collapsed and had to be rebuilt, this one seems to have been planned from the start and been robust.
International MAXX Pro MRAP have incredible thick side armour temporary exhibition of various Russian trophy of Russia-Ukrainian conflict in St Petersburg, Russia
International MAXX Pro MRAP have incredible thick side armour temporary exhibition of various Russian trophy of Russia-Ukrainian conflict in St Petersburg, Russia
Kupferstich Augsburg Kupferstich Augsburg · Topographie und Geschichte
An der ehemaligen Römerstraße »Via Claudia Augusta« zwischen Dom und St. Moritz entwickelte sich im 11. Jh. eine Siedlung von Kaufleuten ‚am Perlach.
Sie ist die Keimzelle der Bürgerstadt, die sich im Gegensatz zur Domstadt entfaltend immer mehr der Herrschaft des Bischofs entzog, um endlich selbst die Geschicke der Stadt in eigenen Hände zu nehmen.
Der Blick auf den Ludwigsplatz mit Rathaus und Perlach, nach einem Kupferstich von J. Wolff, zeigt den zentralen Abschnitt dieser Straße, die für die Geschichte Augsburgs so bedeutend ist. Im Mittelalter waren die Wirren des Investiturstreites zur Erweiterung seiner Selbstverwaltung genutzt worden.
Kaiser Lothar zerstörte die staufisch gesinnte Bürger- und Domstadt. Nach deren Wiederaufbau gab Kaiser Friedrich Barbarossa der Bürgerstadt 1156 eine Stadtrechtsurkunde, welche die Rechte des bischöflichen Stadtherren einschränkte.
Zwei Jahre später fällte er hier den für die derzeit noch unbedeutende Ortschaft München wichtigen Schiedsspruch zwischen Heinrich dem Löwen und Bischof Otto von Freising zugunsten des ersteren. Die Hochstiftsvogtei zog er an sein Haus und setzte einen königlichen Stadtvogt ein.
Diese Voraussetzungen waren dazu angetan, die Bürger in ihren Bemühungen um die Stadtherrschaft zu bestärken. Sie erzwangen sodann 1250 in einem Aufstand gegen den Bischof die zuvor angelegte Stadtbefestigung für sich und dazu das Besteuerungsrecht. Neben der Kirche St.
aventin.de/kupferstich-augsburg-topograhie/
0700 to St Pancras 54199184686_2a714f3c17_b
St Anthony's Catholic Church (1921) 28 Geddes Rd, Solomontown.
Nikolaikirche, Leipzig The Nikolaikirche (officially: Stadt- und Pfarrkirche St. Nikolai) is the oldest and largest church in Leipzig's city center and, alongside the Thomaskirche, the best-known church in the city. The sacred building named after St. Nicholas is the main church of the Protestant-Lutheran St. Nicholas parish in Leipzig. The redesign and decoration of the interior of the Nikolaikirche is a significant creation of classicism. (Wikioedia)
Snow Hill Tunnel 03.04.72 View of Kenyon St road bridge, looking towards Hockley. Taken from beneath first road bridge (Northwood St). The two tracks on the left were used for the passenger train service that ceased to run on the 6th March 72 whilst those on the right were once the main fast lines but had not been used since 1969.
Snow Hill Tunnel 03.04.72 View of Livery St road bridge looking towards Birmingham. Taken from beneath the Kenyon St road bridge. The two tracks on the right of this photograph were the relief lines used for the passenger service that had ceased to run on the 6th March 72.
Snow Hill Station Wall Murial 03.04.72 This was located in St Chad's underpass, Birmingham, opposite Snow Hill station. (St Chad's is the church in the background). This photo shows three of the images that formed the wall decoration. It was demolished in 2007.
There is a Wikipedia page about this murial
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_Snow_Hill
St Mary's Church, Harby, Leicestershire 54198255942_8f81e52fa3_b
35 Wohaw
Between Two Cultures, 1877
Kiowa,
Pencil and colored pencil on crayon; Length: 8 1/4 in. (21 cm) Width: 11 3/8 in. (28.9 cm)
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Courtesy of the Missouri History Museum, St. Louis (SL.7.2015.53.3)
www.metmuseum.org/Collections/search-the-collections/640401
Midland Pullman Midland Pullman HST with 43055 leading and 43046 on the rear passes Huddlesford with the return of the inaugural tour from St Pancras International ‘The Midland Pullman’. The train operated over a circular route from St. Pancras to Crewe via the the Midland Mainline, and Hope Valley, then returning south along the West Coast Mainline to Nuneaton before rejoining the MML at Wigston South Junction. Saturday 12-12-2020.
St. Augustine by the sea. As viewed from the Hilton Hawaii 2012
Church st The doll
St Alfege, Greenwich, Kent A day out in London of a Saturday morning requires planning. Jools arranged for shopping to be dropped on Thursday afternoon, meaning we did not have to go on Saturday morning.
Then setting alarms so that we got to Priory station at half seven ready for the quarter to eight train.
Jools went to get tickets, and I went to the corner greasy spoon to get sausage and bacon sticks and brews. So that when the train rolled at twenty to, we climbed on board, sitting at a table and starting on our breakfast.
Leaving at that time meant it was already light, so we could see the countryside rolling by until we got to Ashford, then flash by once we got on the high speed line, zooming up to Ebbsfleet and then under the Thames into Essex and on to Stratford.
We got out at Stratford, caught the DLR to the regional station, then changing DLR lines for the trains heading for Lewisham.
At Pudding Mill Lane, where we used to watch steam tours on the Great Eastern Main Line, a new station has been built to allow for the entrances to the Elizabeth Line tunnels, and next door is the Abba theatre.
We have been talking about going, so Jools checks prices for the show, and amazed that some are nearly £200! Prices next June are £99, but still for seeing a video recreation rather than the band themselves.
The train rattled on, turning south where the old Bryant and May match factory used to be. The building is still there but seems to be business units or flats now.
Passing the old factory used to be the cue for my Granddad to get us standing up and gathering our coats and bags as we were five minutes from Liverpool Street.
Instead, we took the line south through Bow and towards the crystal towers of Docklands and Canary and other Wharves.
I texted Graham to say we were on our way, and he replied to say he was 5 minutes from Canary Wharf. I said we would be there in a few minutes, maybe we would meet there?
Through Poplar and into the 21st century hellscape that is Docklands, we get off on platform 1, and our next train is waiting on platform 2. Jools walks over, I lag behind, scouring the platform for Graham.
Then as I reach the doors, and the electronic bleeps announcing departure, Graham reaches us and comes on board.
Doors close and the train departs, taking tight turns around the skyscrapers before heading to the river, and after Mudschute, dives under the river for Greenwich.
We get off at Cutty Sark, so named after a tea clipper, and find the way out signed to a flight of 125 steps to street level.
I sigh and follow Jools and Graham up, regretting my life choices.
But I made it to the top, and a short walk we called in at a coffee shop for a refill and wait for the Cutty Sark itself to open.
Although the story of the Cutty Sark and the other tea clippers is very interesting, I wanted to come for purely photographic reasons, to snap the prow and the glazed roof that protects the old dry dock.
We pay to go on, and enter the ship, going up two flights of steps onto the deck, where the masts and rigging tower high above. Remember, sailors used to have to climb up these and gather in sails, and all weathers and on all seas, no matter their state.
Hardy buggers.
Cabins were small and on deck, as all space down below was for cases of tea only, to keep them dry and in perfect condition.
Then down through the visitor centre to the bottom of the dry dock, and the copper bottom of the ship, suspended so that shots looking along and up the prow could be taken.
Which I took plenty of.
Above the roofs of the shops and pubs,the tower of the parish church, St Alphage, Greenwich, which is an usual dedication, but turns out this was the site where the titular Saint was martyred in the 11th century.
Graham had never found it open, but I had checked online and it was due to open at eleven, ten minutes ago. So we walked towards the church, dodging through the traffic and arrived at the church gate.
The south doors were closed, as were the north, so I began to doubt myself. But a nearby sight indicated that the main entrance was on the south side, so we went back round.
And one of the doors was indeed ajar.
Bingo.
Bango.
Bongo.
We climbed the steps and went in, and were met my quiet the most friendly and informative volunteer I think I have ever met.
Interesting details were pointed out, and those hidden were shown, including the location of the font where King Henry XIII was christened, and the last surviving part of the second church's wall.
The church, which is after Hawksmoor, is a delight, though gutted during the blitz, so most glass is now lost, though the Victorian is of good quality.
We were here for the Mars display in the Painted Hall at the Greenwich Naval College.
We have been here before, but some 15 years back at least, so a return was overdue, though the sumptuous painting would be partly hidden by the 7m model of the planet Mars.
We have seen the artist's Moon work at the Maritime Museum nearby, but also in Denver back in 2017. But seemed to have missed his "Earth", I'm sure it'll come round again.
We walked through the college grounds, into the painted hall, exchanged vouchers for tickets and climbed the two sets of stairs into the hall itself.
The view opened out, and the first impression was amazing, Mars at the far end, suspended and slowly turning, with the painted hall as a background. And a helmeted Mar looking down at the planet named after him, a great juxtaposition.
We took and hour to take it all in, then talked about going to the Chapel, which we were not sure was open.
At the base of the stairs, we found the entrance to a passageway, with sign pointing to the Chapel, could this lead all the way under the formal gardens?
Yes. Yes it could. And did.
Up spiral staircases to the lobby, then up a formal stairway flanked by statues of Faith, Hope, Charity and Meekness, into the church, a delight, without much in the way of painting to match the hall opposite, but stunning all the same, and few folks had made it over, so we soaked up the building and details, and fittings.
Time was getting on, and thoughts turned to food. So, we left and headed out to the narrow path beside the river, where high tide meant water was lapping at our feet, but we powered back towards the High Road, and the cluster of pubs and other eateries.
Beside the Cutty Sark was the Gipsy Moth pub, but that was full, so we walked on and found a table beside the fire in the Spanish Galleon, a Shepherd Neame's pub, but they had tables and a great looking menu.
We got pints of Whitstable Bay, and ordered burgers each, all in a great end to the trip where we did all we set out to do, and now rounded it off with a pub lunch.
We ate the burgers with pints of Bishop's Finger, now a timid 5.2% rather than the 7% in days of yore, but still full of flavour.
Time to go home. Back to Cutty Sark DLR station, down in the lift this time, and straight on a train heading north. Change at Canary Wharf, where our train to Stratford was also waiting.
We said goodbye to Graham, hopped on, and the doors closed, so we moved off north.
Back at Stratford, down the steps to the concourse, and straight onto a train going to the International Station, we got on, and so were on the platforms for Kent a full ten minutes before the train was due.
When it came, there were a few seats, so I got to sit and rest by back after the 11,000 steps done, so while darkness fell outside, I kept up to date with the football, Norwich 2-2 with Luton at half time, but scoring twice in the second half to win 4-2, and make it 12 goals scored in three games over seven days.
By the time final whistle went, we were back home, and supping fresh brews as we rested, taking our shoes off.
A brilliant day out.
The West Ham fans we had seen on the DLR were going to their home game against Arsenal, which was on TV at half five. Not the game they were hoping for, as Arsenal were 5-2 by halftime, though no more goals scored in the second half, but worthy of that first half to have watched.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
St Alfege Church is an Anglican church in the centre of Greenwich, part of the Royal Borough of Greenwich in London. It is of medieval origin and was rebuilt in 1712–1714 to the designs of Nicholas Hawksmoor.
The church is dedicated to Alfege (also spelt "Alphege"), Archbishop of Canterbury, and reputedly marks the place where he was martyred on 19 April 1012, having been taken prisoner during the sack of Canterbury by Danish raiders the previous year. The Danes took him to their camp at Greenwich and killed him when the large ransom they demanded was not forthcoming.[1]
The church was rebuilt in around 1290, and Henry VIII was baptized there in 1491.
The patronage of the church was given to the abbey at Ghent during the 13th century. Following the suppression of alien priories under Henry V, it was granted to the priory at Sheen with which it remained until transferred to the Crown by exchange under Henry VIII in 1530.[1]
During a storm in 1710 the medieval church collapsed, its foundations having been weakened by burials both inside and outside.
Following the collapse of the medieval church, the present building was constructed, funded by a grant from the Commission for Building Fifty New Churches, to the designs of Nicholas Hawksmoor, one of the commission's two surveyors. The first church to be built by the commissioners, it was begun in 1712 and basic construction was completed in 1714;[2] it was not, however, consecrated until 1718.[3] The church was built by Edward Strong the Younger a friend of Christopher Wren the Younger.
The church is rectangular in plan with a flat ceiling and a small apse serving as a chancel. The east front, towards the street, has a portico in the Tuscan order, with a central arch cutting through the entablature and pediment—a motif used in Wren's "Great Model" for St Paul's Cathedral.[3] A giant order of pilasters runs around the rest of the church, a feature Kerry Downes suggests may have been added by Thomas Archer, who, according to the minutes of the commission, "improved" Hawksmoor's plans.[2] On the north and south sides of the churchwide projecting vestibules rise to the full height of the building, with steps leading up to the doors.[3]
Hawksmoor planned a west tower, in the position of the existing one, which had survived the collapse. However the commission was reluctant to fund it, and the medieval tower was retained. In 1730 John James refaced it, and added a spire. Hawksmoor's design, published in an engraving in 1714, had an octagonal lantern at the top, a motif he was later to use at St George in the East.
The crypt served as an air-raid shelter during World War II. During the Blitz on 19 March 1941, incendiary bombs landed on the roof causing it to collapse, burning into the nave. The walls and the tower remained standing but much of the interior was gutted. The church was restored by Sir Albert Richardson in 1953. As part of the post-war restorations, stencils of Mary the Mother of Jesus and St John the Evangelist were installed either side of the Cross (forming a traditional rood) in the side chapel of St Alfege with St Peter by the tempera artist Augustus Lunn.
The present organ was installed in 2001, having been relocated from the Lower Chapel at Eton College, with some minor changes.[6] It is an 1891 Lewis & Co instrument, with modifications in 1927 by A. Hunter & Son and 1970 by Harrison & Harrison.[7]
Additionally, there is a small, six-stop moveable organ located in the north aisle, by W & A Boggis of Diss from c 1960, with a later restoration by Mander Organs.
he previous organ had a long history. It dated from the 16th century (when St Alfege was recorded as having a pair of organs). The National Pipe Organ Register does not record its present whereabouts. However, a three manual drawstop console is on display at the West End of the South aisle. This may incorporate keys from the time of the composer Thomas Tallis,[9] who was buried in the chancel of the medieval church in the 16th century. The organ was restored in 1706 by Thomas Swarbrick, with further restorations and modifications by Dallam (1765), George England (1770) and J. W. Walker & Sons Ltd (1840, 1853 and 1863).[9][10] It was further restored and rebuilt in 1875 by Joseph Robson and Benjamin Flight,[11] modified by Lewis & Co in 1910[12] and rebuilt by R. Spurden Rutt & Co in 1934. By this point it had grown to 47 stops.[13] It survived the bomb damage of 1941 and was rebuilt, again by R Spurden Rutt, in 1953, with 55 stops.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Alfege_Church,_Greenwich
St Alfege, Greenwich, Kent A day out in London of a Saturday morning requires planning. Jools arranged for shopping to be dropped on Thursday afternoon, meaning we did not have to go on Saturday morning.
Then setting alarms so that we got to Priory station at half seven ready for the quarter to eight train.
Jools went to get tickets, and I went to the corner greasy spoon to get sausage and bacon sticks and brews. So that when the train rolled at twenty to, we climbed on board, sitting at a table and starting on our breakfast.
Leaving at that time meant it was already light, so we could see the countryside rolling by until we got to Ashford, then flash by once we got on the high speed line, zooming up to Ebbsfleet and then under the Thames into Essex and on to Stratford.
We got out at Stratford, caught the DLR to the regional station, then changing DLR lines for the trains heading for Lewisham.
At Pudding Mill Lane, where we used to watch steam tours on the Great Eastern Main Line, a new station has been built to allow for the entrances to the Elizabeth Line tunnels, and next door is the Abba theatre.
We have been talking about going, so Jools checks prices for the show, and amazed that some are nearly £200! Prices next June are £99, but still for seeing a video recreation rather than the band themselves.
The train rattled on, turning south where the old Bryant and May match factory used to be. The building is still there but seems to be business units or flats now.
Passing the old factory used to be the cue for my Granddad to get us standing up and gathering our coats and bags as we were five minutes from Liverpool Street.
Instead, we took the line south through Bow and towards the crystal towers of Docklands and Canary and other Wharves.
I texted Graham to say we were on our way, and he replied to say he was 5 minutes from Canary Wharf. I said we would be there in a few minutes, maybe we would meet there?
Through Poplar and into the 21st century hellscape that is Docklands, we get off on platform 1, and our next train is waiting on platform 2. Jools walks over, I lag behind, scouring the platform for Graham.
Then as I reach the doors, and the electronic bleeps announcing departure, Graham reaches us and comes on board.
Doors close and the train departs, taking tight turns around the skyscrapers before heading to the river, and after Mudschute, dives under the river for Greenwich.
We get off at Cutty Sark, so named after a tea clipper, and find the way out signed to a flight of 125 steps to street level.
I sigh and follow Jools and Graham up, regretting my life choices.
But I made it to the top, and a short walk we called in at a coffee shop for a refill and wait for the Cutty Sark itself to open.
Although the story of the Cutty Sark and the other tea clippers is very interesting, I wanted to come for purely photographic reasons, to snap the prow and the glazed roof that protects the old dry dock.
We pay to go on, and enter the ship, going up two flights of steps onto the deck, where the masts and rigging tower high above. Remember, sailors used to have to climb up these and gather in sails, and all weathers and on all seas, no matter their state.
Hardy buggers.
Cabins were small and on deck, as all space down below was for cases of tea only, to keep them dry and in perfect condition.
Then down through the visitor centre to the bottom of the dry dock, and the copper bottom of the ship, suspended so that shots looking along and up the prow could be taken.
Which I took plenty of.
Above the roofs of the shops and pubs,the tower of the parish church, St Alphage, Greenwich, which is an usual dedication, but turns out this was the site where the titular Saint was martyred in the 11th century.
Graham had never found it open, but I had checked online and it was due to open at eleven, ten minutes ago. So we walked towards the church, dodging through the traffic and arrived at the church gate.
The south doors were closed, as were the north, so I began to doubt myself. But a nearby sight indicated that the main entrance was on the south side, so we went back round.
And one of the doors was indeed ajar.
Bingo.
Bango.
Bongo.
We climbed the steps and went in, and were met my quiet the most friendly and informative volunteer I think I have ever met.
Interesting details were pointed out, and those hidden were shown, including the location of the font where King Henry XIII was christened, and the last surviving part of the second church's wall.
The church, which is after Hawksmoor, is a delight, though gutted during the blitz, so most glass is now lost, though the Victorian is of good quality.
We were here for the Mars display in the Painted Hall at the Greenwich Naval College.
We have been here before, but some 15 years back at least, so a return was overdue, though the sumptuous painting would be partly hidden by the 7m model of the planet Mars.
We have seen the artist's Moon work at the Maritime Museum nearby, but also in Denver back in 2017. But seemed to have missed his "Earth", I'm sure it'll come round again.
We walked through the college grounds, into the painted hall, exchanged vouchers for tickets and climbed the two sets of stairs into the hall itself.
The view opened out, and the first impression was amazing, Mars at the far end, suspended and slowly turning, with the painted hall as a background. And a helmeted Mar looking down at the planet named after him, a great juxtaposition.
We took and hour to take it all in, then talked about going to the Chapel, which we were not sure was open.
At the base of the stairs, we found the entrance to a passageway, with sign pointing to the Chapel, could this lead all the way under the formal gardens?
Yes. Yes it could. And did.
Up spiral staircases to the lobby, then up a formal stairway flanked by statues of Faith, Hope, Charity and Meekness, into the church, a delight, without much in the way of painting to match the hall opposite, but stunning all the same, and few folks had made it over, so we soaked up the building and details, and fittings.
Time was getting on, and thoughts turned to food. So, we left and headed out to the narrow path beside the river, where high tide meant water was lapping at our feet, but we powered back towards the High Road, and the cluster of pubs and other eateries.
Beside the Cutty Sark was the Gipsy Moth pub, but that was full, so we walked on and found a table beside the fire in the Spanish Galleon, a Shepherd Neame's pub, but they had tables and a great looking menu.
We got pints of Whitstable Bay, and ordered burgers each, all in a great end to the trip where we did all we set out to do, and now rounded it off with a pub lunch.
We ate the burgers with pints of Bishop's Finger, now a timid 5.2% rather than the 7% in days of yore, but still full of flavour.
Time to go home. Back to Cutty Sark DLR station, down in the lift this time, and straight on a train heading north. Change at Canary Wharf, where our train to Stratford was also waiting.
We said goodbye to Graham, hopped on, and the doors closed, so we moved off north.
Back at Stratford, down the steps to the concourse, and straight onto a train going to the International Station, we got on, and so were on the platforms for Kent a full ten minutes before the train was due.
When it came, there were a few seats, so I got to sit and rest by back after the 11,000 steps done, so while darkness fell outside, I kept up to date with the football, Norwich 2-2 with Luton at half time, but scoring twice in the second half to win 4-2, and make it 12 goals scored in three games over seven days.
By the time final whistle went, we were back home, and supping fresh brews as we rested, taking our shoes off.
A brilliant day out.
The West Ham fans we had seen on the DLR were going to their home game against Arsenal, which was on TV at half five. Not the game they were hoping for, as Arsenal were 5-2 by halftime, though no more goals scored in the second half, but worthy of that first half to have watched.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
St Alfege Church is an Anglican church in the centre of Greenwich, part of the Royal Borough of Greenwich in London. It is of medieval origin and was rebuilt in 1712–1714 to the designs of Nicholas Hawksmoor.
The church is dedicated to Alfege (also spelt "Alphege"), Archbishop of Canterbury, and reputedly marks the place where he was martyred on 19 April 1012, having been taken prisoner during the sack of Canterbury by Danish raiders the previous year. The Danes took him to their camp at Greenwich and killed him when the large ransom they demanded was not forthcoming.[1]
The church was rebuilt in around 1290, and Henry VIII was baptized there in 1491.
The patronage of the church was given to the abbey at Ghent during the 13th century. Following the suppression of alien priories under Henry V, it was granted to the priory at Sheen with which it remained until transferred to the Crown by exchange under Henry VIII in 1530.[1]
During a storm in 1710 the medieval church collapsed, its foundations having been weakened by burials both inside and outside.
Following the collapse of the medieval church, the present building was constructed, funded by a grant from the Commission for Building Fifty New Churches, to the designs of Nicholas Hawksmoor, one of the commission's two surveyors. The first church to be built by the commissioners, it was begun in 1712 and basic construction was completed in 1714;[2] it was not, however, consecrated until 1718.[3] The church was built by Edward Strong the Younger a friend of Christopher Wren the Younger.
The church is rectangular in plan with a flat ceiling and a small apse serving as a chancel. The east front, towards the street, has a portico in the Tuscan order, with a central arch cutting through the entablature and pediment—a motif used in Wren's "Great Model" for St Paul's Cathedral.[3] A giant order of pilasters runs around the rest of the church, a feature Kerry Downes suggests may have been added by Thomas Archer, who, according to the minutes of the commission, "improved" Hawksmoor's plans.[2] On the north and south sides of the churchwide projecting vestibules rise to the full height of the building, with steps leading up to the doors.[3]
Hawksmoor planned a west tower, in the position of the existing one, which had survived the collapse. However the commission was reluctant to fund it, and the medieval tower was retained. In 1730 John James refaced it, and added a spire. Hawksmoor's design, published in an engraving in 1714, had an octagonal lantern at the top, a motif he was later to use at St George in the East.
The crypt served as an air-raid shelter during World War II. During the Blitz on 19 March 1941, incendiary bombs landed on the roof causing it to collapse, burning into the nave. The walls and the tower remained standing but much of the interior was gutted. The church was restored by Sir Albert Richardson in 1953. As part of the post-war restorations, stencils of Mary the Mother of Jesus and St John the Evangelist were installed either side of the Cross (forming a traditional rood) in the side chapel of St Alfege with St Peter by the tempera artist Augustus Lunn.
The present organ was installed in 2001, having been relocated from the Lower Chapel at Eton College, with some minor changes.[6] It is an 1891 Lewis & Co instrument, with modifications in 1927 by A. Hunter & Son and 1970 by Harrison & Harrison.[7]
Additionally, there is a small, six-stop moveable organ located in the north aisle, by W & A Boggis of Diss from c 1960, with a later restoration by Mander Organs.
he previous organ had a long history. It dated from the 16th century (when St Alfege was recorded as having a pair of organs). The National Pipe Organ Register does not record its present whereabouts. However, a three manual drawstop console is on display at the West End of the South aisle. This may incorporate keys from the time of the composer Thomas Tallis,[9] who was buried in the chancel of the medieval church in the 16th century. The organ was restored in 1706 by Thomas Swarbrick, with further restorations and modifications by Dallam (1765), George England (1770) and J. W. Walker & Sons Ltd (1840, 1853 and 1863).[9][10] It was further restored and rebuilt in 1875 by Joseph Robson and Benjamin Flight,[11] modified by Lewis & Co in 1910[12] and rebuilt by R. Spurden Rutt & Co in 1934. By this point it had grown to 47 stops.[13] It survived the bomb damage of 1941 and was rebuilt, again by R Spurden Rutt, in 1953, with 55 stops.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Alfege_Church,_Greenwich
St Alfege, Greenwich, Kent A day out in London of a Saturday morning requires planning. Jools arranged for shopping to be dropped on Thursday afternoon, meaning we did not have to go on Saturday morning.
Then setting alarms so that we got to Priory station at half seven ready for the quarter to eight train.
Jools went to get tickets, and I went to the corner greasy spoon to get sausage and bacon sticks and brews. So that when the train rolled at twenty to, we climbed on board, sitting at a table and starting on our breakfast.
Leaving at that time meant it was already light, so we could see the countryside rolling by until we got to Ashford, then flash by once we got on the high speed line, zooming up to Ebbsfleet and then under the Thames into Essex and on to Stratford.
We got out at Stratford, caught the DLR to the regional station, then changing DLR lines for the trains heading for Lewisham.
At Pudding Mill Lane, where we used to watch steam tours on the Great Eastern Main Line, a new station has been built to allow for the entrances to the Elizabeth Line tunnels, and next door is the Abba theatre.
We have been talking about going, so Jools checks prices for the show, and amazed that some are nearly £200! Prices next June are £99, but still for seeing a video recreation rather than the band themselves.
The train rattled on, turning south where the old Bryant and May match factory used to be. The building is still there but seems to be business units or flats now.
Passing the old factory used to be the cue for my Granddad to get us standing up and gathering our coats and bags as we were five minutes from Liverpool Street.
Instead, we took the line south through Bow and towards the crystal towers of Docklands and Canary and other Wharves.
I texted Graham to say we were on our way, and he replied to say he was 5 minutes from Canary Wharf. I said we would be there in a few minutes, maybe we would meet there?
Through Poplar and into the 21st century hellscape that is Docklands, we get off on platform 1, and our next train is waiting on platform 2. Jools walks over, I lag behind, scouring the platform for Graham.
Then as I reach the doors, and the electronic bleeps announcing departure, Graham reaches us and comes on board.
Doors close and the train departs, taking tight turns around the skyscrapers before heading to the river, and after Mudschute, dives under the river for Greenwich.
We get off at Cutty Sark, so named after a tea clipper, and find the way out signed to a flight of 125 steps to street level.
I sigh and follow Jools and Graham up, regretting my life choices.
But I made it to the top, and a short walk we called in at a coffee shop for a refill and wait for the Cutty Sark itself to open.
Although the story of the Cutty Sark and the other tea clippers is very interesting, I wanted to come for purely photographic reasons, to snap the prow and the glazed roof that protects the old dry dock.
We pay to go on, and enter the ship, going up two flights of steps onto the deck, where the masts and rigging tower high above. Remember, sailors used to have to climb up these and gather in sails, and all weathers and on all seas, no matter their state.
Hardy buggers.
Cabins were small and on deck, as all space down below was for cases of tea only, to keep them dry and in perfect condition.
Then down through the visitor centre to the bottom of the dry dock, and the copper bottom of the ship, suspended so that shots looking along and up the prow could be taken.
Which I took plenty of.
Above the roofs of the shops and pubs,the tower of the parish church, St Alphage, Greenwich, which is an usual dedication, but turns out this was the site where the titular Saint was martyred in the 11th century.
Graham had never found it open, but I had checked online and it was due to open at eleven, ten minutes ago. So we walked towards the church, dodging through the traffic and arrived at the church gate.
The south doors were closed, as were the north, so I began to doubt myself. But a nearby sight indicated that the main entrance was on the south side, so we went back round.
And one of the doors was indeed ajar.
Bingo.
Bango.
Bongo.
We climbed the steps and went in, and were met my quiet the most friendly and informative volunteer I think I have ever met.
Interesting details were pointed out, and those hidden were shown, including the location of the font where King Henry XIII was christened, and the last surviving part of the second church's wall.
The church, which is after Hawksmoor, is a delight, though gutted during the blitz, so most glass is now lost, though the Victorian is of good quality.
We were here for the Mars display in the Painted Hall at the Greenwich Naval College.
We have been here before, but some 15 years back at least, so a return was overdue, though the sumptuous painting would be partly hidden by the 7m model of the planet Mars.
We have seen the artist's Moon work at the Maritime Museum nearby, but also in Denver back in 2017. But seemed to have missed his "Earth", I'm sure it'll come round again.
We walked through the college grounds, into the painted hall, exchanged vouchers for tickets and climbed the two sets of stairs into the hall itself.
The view opened out, and the first impression was amazing, Mars at the far end, suspended and slowly turning, with the painted hall as a background. And a helmeted Mar looking down at the planet named after him, a great juxtaposition.
We took and hour to take it all in, then talked about going to the Chapel, which we were not sure was open.
At the base of the stairs, we found the entrance to a passageway, with sign pointing to the Chapel, could this lead all the way under the formal gardens?
Yes. Yes it could. And did.
Up spiral staircases to the lobby, then up a formal stairway flanked by statues of Faith, Hope, Charity and Meekness, into the church, a delight, without much in the way of painting to match the hall opposite, but stunning all the same, and few folks had made it over, so we soaked up the building and details, and fittings.
Time was getting on, and thoughts turned to food. So, we left and headed out to the narrow path beside the river, where high tide meant water was lapping at our feet, but we powered back towards the High Road, and the cluster of pubs and other eateries.
Beside the Cutty Sark was the Gipsy Moth pub, but that was full, so we walked on and found a table beside the fire in the Spanish Galleon, a Shepherd Neame's pub, but they had tables and a great looking menu.
We got pints of Whitstable Bay, and ordered burgers each, all in a great end to the trip where we did all we set out to do, and now rounded it off with a pub lunch.
We ate the burgers with pints of Bishop's Finger, now a timid 5.2% rather than the 7% in days of yore, but still full of flavour.
Time to go home. Back to Cutty Sark DLR station, down in the lift this time, and straight on a train heading north. Change at Canary Wharf, where our train to Stratford was also waiting.
We said goodbye to Graham, hopped on, and the doors closed, so we moved off north.
Back at Stratford, down the steps to the concourse, and straight onto a train going to the International Station, we got on, and so were on the platforms for Kent a full ten minutes before the train was due.
When it came, there were a few seats, so I got to sit and rest by back after the 11,000 steps done, so while darkness fell outside, I kept up to date with the football, Norwich 2-2 with Luton at half time, but scoring twice in the second half to win 4-2, and make it 12 goals scored in three games over seven days.
By the time final whistle went, we were back home, and supping fresh brews as we rested, taking our shoes off.
A brilliant day out.
The West Ham fans we had seen on the DLR were going to their home game against Arsenal, which was on TV at half five. Not the game they were hoping for, as Arsenal were 5-2 by halftime, though no more goals scored in the second half, but worthy of that first half to have watched.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
St Alfege Church is an Anglican church in the centre of Greenwich, part of the Royal Borough of Greenwich in London. It is of medieval origin and was rebuilt in 1712–1714 to the designs of Nicholas Hawksmoor.
The church is dedicated to Alfege (also spelt "Alphege"), Archbishop of Canterbury, and reputedly marks the place where he was martyred on 19 April 1012, having been taken prisoner during the sack of Canterbury by Danish raiders the previous year. The Danes took him to their camp at Greenwich and killed him when the large ransom they demanded was not forthcoming.[1]
The church was rebuilt in around 1290, and Henry VIII was baptized there in 1491.
The patronage of the church was given to the abbey at Ghent during the 13th century. Following the suppression of alien priories under Henry V, it was granted to the priory at Sheen with which it remained until transferred to the Crown by exchange under Henry VIII in 1530.[1]
During a storm in 1710 the medieval church collapsed, its foundations having been weakened by burials both inside and outside.
Following the collapse of the medieval church, the present building was constructed, funded by a grant from the Commission for Building Fifty New Churches, to the designs of Nicholas Hawksmoor, one of the commission's two surveyors. The first church to be built by the commissioners, it was begun in 1712 and basic construction was completed in 1714;[2] it was not, however, consecrated until 1718.[3] The church was built by Edward Strong the Younger a friend of Christopher Wren the Younger.
The church is rectangular in plan with a flat ceiling and a small apse serving as a chancel. The east front, towards the street, has a portico in the Tuscan order, with a central arch cutting through the entablature and pediment—a motif used in Wren's "Great Model" for St Paul's Cathedral.[3] A giant order of pilasters runs around the rest of the church, a feature Kerry Downes suggests may have been added by Thomas Archer, who, according to the minutes of the commission, "improved" Hawksmoor's plans.[2] On the north and south sides of the churchwide projecting vestibules rise to the full height of the building, with steps leading up to the doors.[3]
Hawksmoor planned a west tower, in the position of the existing one, which had survived the collapse. However the commission was reluctant to fund it, and the medieval tower was retained. In 1730 John James refaced it, and added a spire. Hawksmoor's design, published in an engraving in 1714, had an octagonal lantern at the top, a motif he was later to use at St George in the East.
The crypt served as an air-raid shelter during World War II. During the Blitz on 19 March 1941, incendiary bombs landed on the roof causing it to collapse, burning into the nave. The walls and the tower remained standing but much of the interior was gutted. The church was restored by Sir Albert Richardson in 1953. As part of the post-war restorations, stencils of Mary the Mother of Jesus and St John the Evangelist were installed either side of the Cross (forming a traditional rood) in the side chapel of St Alfege with St Peter by the tempera artist Augustus Lunn.
The present organ was installed in 2001, having been relocated from the Lower Chapel at Eton College, with some minor changes.[6] It is an 1891 Lewis & Co instrument, with modifications in 1927 by A. Hunter & Son and 1970 by Harrison & Harrison.[7]
Additionally, there is a small, six-stop moveable organ located in the north aisle, by W & A Boggis of Diss from c 1960, with a later restoration by Mander Organs.
he previous organ had a long history. It dated from the 16th century (when St Alfege was recorded as having a pair of organs). The National Pipe Organ Register does not record its present whereabouts. However, a three manual drawstop console is on display at the West End of the South aisle. This may incorporate keys from the time of the composer Thomas Tallis,[9] who was buried in the chancel of the medieval church in the 16th century. The organ was restored in 1706 by Thomas Swarbrick, with further restorations and modifications by Dallam (1765), George England (1770) and J. W. Walker & Sons Ltd (1840, 1853 and 1863).[9][10] It was further restored and rebuilt in 1875 by Joseph Robson and Benjamin Flight,[11] modified by Lewis & Co in 1910[12] and rebuilt by R. Spurden Rutt & Co in 1934. By this point it had grown to 47 stops.[13] It survived the bomb damage of 1941 and was rebuilt, again by R Spurden Rutt, in 1953, with 55 stops.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Alfege_Church,_Greenwich
St Alfege, Greenwich, Kent A day out in London of a Saturday morning requires planning. Jools arranged for shopping to be dropped on Thursday afternoon, meaning we did not have to go on Saturday morning.
Then setting alarms so that we got to Priory station at half seven ready for the quarter to eight train.
Jools went to get tickets, and I went to the corner greasy spoon to get sausage and bacon sticks and brews. So that when the train rolled at twenty to, we climbed on board, sitting at a table and starting on our breakfast.
Leaving at that time meant it was already light, so we could see the countryside rolling by until we got to Ashford, then flash by once we got on the high speed line, zooming up to Ebbsfleet and then under the Thames into Essex and on to Stratford.
We got out at Stratford, caught the DLR to the regional station, then changing DLR lines for the trains heading for Lewisham.
At Pudding Mill Lane, where we used to watch steam tours on the Great Eastern Main Line, a new station has been built to allow for the entrances to the Elizabeth Line tunnels, and next door is the Abba theatre.
We have been talking about going, so Jools checks prices for the show, and amazed that some are nearly £200! Prices next June are £99, but still for seeing a video recreation rather than the band themselves.
The train rattled on, turning south where the old Bryant and May match factory used to be. The building is still there but seems to be business units or flats now.
Passing the old factory used to be the cue for my Granddad to get us standing up and gathering our coats and bags as we were five minutes from Liverpool Street.
Instead, we took the line south through Bow and towards the crystal towers of Docklands and Canary and other Wharves.
I texted Graham to say we were on our way, and he replied to say he was 5 minutes from Canary Wharf. I said we would be there in a few minutes, maybe we would meet there?
Through Poplar and into the 21st century hellscape that is Docklands, we get off on platform 1, and our next train is waiting on platform 2. Jools walks over, I lag behind, scouring the platform for Graham.
Then as I reach the doors, and the electronic bleeps announcing departure, Graham reaches us and comes on board.
Doors close and the train departs, taking tight turns around the skyscrapers before heading to the river, and after Mudschute, dives under the river for Greenwich.
We get off at Cutty Sark, so named after a tea clipper, and find the way out signed to a flight of 125 steps to street level.
I sigh and follow Jools and Graham up, regretting my life choices.
But I made it to the top, and a short walk we called in at a coffee shop for a refill and wait for the Cutty Sark itself to open.
Although the story of the Cutty Sark and the other tea clippers is very interesting, I wanted to come for purely photographic reasons, to snap the prow and the glazed roof that protects the old dry dock.
We pay to go on, and enter the ship, going up two flights of steps onto the deck, where the masts and rigging tower high above. Remember, sailors used to have to climb up these and gather in sails, and all weathers and on all seas, no matter their state.
Hardy buggers.
Cabins were small and on deck, as all space down below was for cases of tea only, to keep them dry and in perfect condition.
Then down through the visitor centre to the bottom of the dry dock, and the copper bottom of the ship, suspended so that shots looking along and up the prow could be taken.
Which I took plenty of.
Above the roofs of the shops and pubs,the tower of the parish church, St Alphage, Greenwich, which is an usual dedication, but turns out this was the site where the titular Saint was martyred in the 11th century.
Graham had never found it open, but I had checked online and it was due to open at eleven, ten minutes ago. So we walked towards the church, dodging through the traffic and arrived at the church gate.
The south doors were closed, as were the north, so I began to doubt myself. But a nearby sight indicated that the main entrance was on the south side, so we went back round.
And one of the doors was indeed ajar.
Bingo.
Bango.
Bongo.
We climbed the steps and went in, and were met my quiet the most friendly and informative volunteer I think I have ever met.
Interesting details were pointed out, and those hidden were shown, including the location of the font where King Henry XIII was christened, and the last surviving part of the second church's wall.
The church, which is after Hawksmoor, is a delight, though gutted during the blitz, so most glass is now lost, though the Victorian is of good quality.
We were here for the Mars display in the Painted Hall at the Greenwich Naval College.
We have been here before, but some 15 years back at least, so a return was overdue, though the sumptuous painting would be partly hidden by the 7m model of the planet Mars.
We have seen the artist's Moon work at the Maritime Museum nearby, but also in Denver back in 2017. But seemed to have missed his "Earth", I'm sure it'll come round again.
We walked through the college grounds, into the painted hall, exchanged vouchers for tickets and climbed the two sets of stairs into the hall itself.
The view opened out, and the first impression was amazing, Mars at the far end, suspended and slowly turning, with the painted hall as a background. And a helmeted Mar looking down at the planet named after him, a great juxtaposition.
We took and hour to take it all in, then talked about going to the Chapel, which we were not sure was open.
At the base of the stairs, we found the entrance to a passageway, with sign pointing to the Chapel, could this lead all the way under the formal gardens?
Yes. Yes it could. And did.
Up spiral staircases to the lobby, then up a formal stairway flanked by statues of Faith, Hope, Charity and Meekness, into the church, a delight, without much in the way of painting to match the hall opposite, but stunning all the same, and few folks had made it over, so we soaked up the building and details, and fittings.
Time was getting on, and thoughts turned to food. So, we left and headed out to the narrow path beside the river, where high tide meant water was lapping at our feet, but we powered back towards the High Road, and the cluster of pubs and other eateries.
Beside the Cutty Sark was the Gipsy Moth pub, but that was full, so we walked on and found a table beside the fire in the Spanish Galleon, a Shepherd Neame's pub, but they had tables and a great looking menu.
We got pints of Whitstable Bay, and ordered burgers each, all in a great end to the trip where we did all we set out to do, and now rounded it off with a pub lunch.
We ate the burgers with pints of Bishop's Finger, now a timid 5.2% rather than the 7% in days of yore, but still full of flavour.
Time to go home. Back to Cutty Sark DLR station, down in the lift this time, and straight on a train heading north. Change at Canary Wharf, where our train to Stratford was also waiting.
We said goodbye to Graham, hopped on, and the doors closed, so we moved off north.
Back at Stratford, down the steps to the concourse, and straight onto a train going to the International Station, we got on, and so were on the platforms for Kent a full ten minutes before the train was due.
When it came, there were a few seats, so I got to sit and rest by back after the 11,000 steps done, so while darkness fell outside, I kept up to date with the football, Norwich 2-2 with Luton at half time, but scoring twice in the second half to win 4-2, and make it 12 goals scored in three games over seven days.
By the time final whistle went, we were back home, and supping fresh brews as we rested, taking our shoes off.
A brilliant day out.
The West Ham fans we had seen on the DLR were going to their home game against Arsenal, which was on TV at half five. Not the game they were hoping for, as Arsenal were 5-2 by halftime, though no more goals scored in the second half, but worthy of that first half to have watched.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
St Alfege Church is an Anglican church in the centre of Greenwich, part of the Royal Borough of Greenwich in London. It is of medieval origin and was rebuilt in 1712–1714 to the designs of Nicholas Hawksmoor.
The church is dedicated to Alfege (also spelt "Alphege"), Archbishop of Canterbury, and reputedly marks the place where he was martyred on 19 April 1012, having been taken prisoner during the sack of Canterbury by Danish raiders the previous year. The Danes took him to their camp at Greenwich and killed him when the large ransom they demanded was not forthcoming.[1]
The church was rebuilt in around 1290, and Henry VIII was baptized there in 1491.
The patronage of the church was given to the abbey at Ghent during the 13th century. Following the suppression of alien priories under Henry V, it was granted to the priory at Sheen with which it remained until transferred to the Crown by exchange under Henry VIII in 1530.[1]
During a storm in 1710 the medieval church collapsed, its foundations having been weakened by burials both inside and outside.
Following the collapse of the medieval church, the present building was constructed, funded by a grant from the Commission for Building Fifty New Churches, to the designs of Nicholas Hawksmoor, one of the commission's two surveyors. The first church to be built by the commissioners, it was begun in 1712 and basic construction was completed in 1714;[2] it was not, however, consecrated until 1718.[3] The church was built by Edward Strong the Younger a friend of Christopher Wren the Younger.
The church is rectangular in plan with a flat ceiling and a small apse serving as a chancel. The east front, towards the street, has a portico in the Tuscan order, with a central arch cutting through the entablature and pediment—a motif used in Wren's "Great Model" for St Paul's Cathedral.[3] A giant order of pilasters runs around the rest of the church, a feature Kerry Downes suggests may have been added by Thomas Archer, who, according to the minutes of the commission, "improved" Hawksmoor's plans.[2] On the north and south sides of the churchwide projecting vestibules rise to the full height of the building, with steps leading up to the doors.[3]
Hawksmoor planned a west tower, in the position of the existing one, which had survived the collapse. However the commission was reluctant to fund it, and the medieval tower was retained. In 1730 John James refaced it, and added a spire. Hawksmoor's design, published in an engraving in 1714, had an octagonal lantern at the top, a motif he was later to use at St George in the East.
The crypt served as an air-raid shelter during World War II. During the Blitz on 19 March 1941, incendiary bombs landed on the roof causing it to collapse, burning into the nave. The walls and the tower remained standing but much of the interior was gutted. The church was restored by Sir Albert Richardson in 1953. As part of the post-war restorations, stencils of Mary the Mother of Jesus and St John the Evangelist were installed either side of the Cross (forming a traditional rood) in the side chapel of St Alfege with St Peter by the tempera artist Augustus Lunn.
The present organ was installed in 2001, having been relocated from the Lower Chapel at Eton College, with some minor changes.[6] It is an 1891 Lewis & Co instrument, with modifications in 1927 by A. Hunter & Son and 1970 by Harrison & Harrison.[7]
Additionally, there is a small, six-stop moveable organ located in the north aisle, by W & A Boggis of Diss from c 1960, with a later restoration by Mander Organs.
he previous organ had a long history. It dated from the 16th century (when St Alfege was recorded as having a pair of organs). The National Pipe Organ Register does not record its present whereabouts. However, a three manual drawstop console is on display at the West End of the South aisle. This may incorporate keys from the time of the composer Thomas Tallis,[9] who was buried in the chancel of the medieval church in the 16th century. The organ was restored in 1706 by Thomas Swarbrick, with further restorations and modifications by Dallam (1765), George England (1770) and J. W. Walker & Sons Ltd (1840, 1853 and 1863).[9][10] It was further restored and rebuilt in 1875 by Joseph Robson and Benjamin Flight,[11] modified by Lewis & Co in 1910[12] and rebuilt by R. Spurden Rutt & Co in 1934. By this point it had grown to 47 stops.[13] It survived the bomb damage of 1941 and was rebuilt, again by R Spurden Rutt, in 1953, with 55 stops.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Alfege_Church,_Greenwich
DSCF8340 St Patrick's Cathedral