We've done a lot of walking in Somerset, particularly during the pandemic. This morning we were looking at map to find a new route from Jamie's Mum's when she suggested going to the Old Holcombe church, about 3 miles from her house. Donning beanies and scarfs and rainjackets, and grabbing the walking sticks Jamie made last time we were here, we set off with our wellis and a RATHER LARGE KEY that his Mum had picked up from her friend who was it's caretaker. I mean, when one has a key THAT big, one ought to open the door that it slides into, don't you think?
About half way there, we asked a local for diretions. Walking in England, the directions will often be something like: 'go up lane, past the old mill, turn left past the silage, over the stile by the yew tree, then over the stream and up over the hill past the old cottage' so that I'm utterly confuddled. No worries - Jamie seems to be able to auto-translate and off we trotted.
At last the church came into view. 'Holcombe' means hollow combe, or nestled in a valley, and this church certainly was. Known as the plague church, the entire village was moved during those times as so many people died, so the 'new' Holcombe isn't in the location of the church that the 'old' Holcombe grew around.
Fun fact - this is the church that Ross and Delmelza got married in in Poldark. We loved that series! I had known this for ages but had never got the chance to find the church, so were pleased that we could visit today. In the series, it's called 'Sawle Church' and of course it pretends to be two countys down in Cornwall.
The cemetry itself was quite impressive. There's always a story or two to tell as one reads the headstones. One rather poignant one was of five children from two separate families who drowned in a pond when they fell through the ice, coming home from school on the last day of term for the Christmas break. Locals got together and donated a stone carving of five little lambs. It must have quite rattled the community at the time.
There were an awful lot of lovely girl's names - Primrose, Violet, Iris - so many flowers that poetically matched the early Spring with the bulbs springing up all around. But the real amazing thing for me was this grave - Scott of the Antarctic! I'm sure @mrprofessor might appreciate this one. He's buried in there with his parents and his brother. He lived in the old brewery near here which, strangely enough, Jamie almost bought many, many years ago!
There's also a mound where the plague victims were buried. I didn't take a photo of that because, well, it's 'just' a mound.
After walking around the graveyard, we entered the church. It's a 16th century Norman church. I don't know enough about church architecture to point out the finer details, but I'm sure if you're an expert you'll be able to tell me! I know some of the simpler carvings are due to the fact so many stonemasons died in the plague it wasn't possible to get the more ornate carvings of earlier churches.
The old key slide like a knife into butter into the old door and we were in. I was actually hoping some one would be there as I'd be able to learn more about the church, but no such luck. It's only used three times a year and for the occasional wedding.
There's something really beautiful about churches and churchyards. I don't ever feel the presence of God, something I don't believe in in this form, but the presence of people is palpable. One sees the worn stones and pews and imagines the lives that have centred around gatherings at this church, the grief and losses, the coming together for marriages and other occasions, and feels history thick in the air.
We found the pew configuration on one side quite interesting - like little boothes.
'Please do not ring the bells as the bats are roosting in the belfry' cannot be a sentence that is uttered aloud too often. Bats are protected in England as they are essential to the ecosystem, and often make a home in barns and churches. In fact, my brother in law has not been able to build his home because of bats - he has to make a whole shed for them to roost in and then he can get on with it.
Whilst a bit dark to see, the ten commandments are placed on either side of the window behind the altar. I wonder how many bazillions of times these have been broken.
“You shall not covet your neighbor’s house; you shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, nor his male servant, nor his female servant, nor his ox, nor his donkey, nor anything that is your neighbor’s.” - GOD
There was even some old graffiti on the door from 1770. I always find it funny to look back in history and see people doing ordinary things.
All in all, it was pretty cool as far as old churches go and well worth a look if you are in the area.
With Love,
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When i saw Holcombe in the title i thought you were in Norfolk, as there's a Holcombe on the North Norfolk coast. If you pop up this way, feel free to visit, there's a spare room. i'll likely be here another month before returning to Bulgaria.
i loved Poldark too :-)
In-joy your travels.
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Hello @riverflows.. It was a very nice post. It looks like a very mysterious church. Since we do not actually live in the past, things in the past seem mysterious to us. However, they would be very surprised if they saw the technology of today. 🐝
Oh yes, imagine if they had a giant key to the future!
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I’m fascinated by churches too and for much the same reasons. We’ve been doing a photo project of sorts, my wife and I, exploring the history and what a grave you found, wow!
I can’t remember if I wrote on here about the church where Lawrence of Arabia is buried or D. H. Lawrence as he was more regularly known. You can find some connections with these legendary people.
Wait no.. were Lawrence of Arabia and DH Lawrence the same person? 🤯
Yep, I was baffled by that for years. I remember the Maurice Jarre music most of all from the film.
Excellent! The first thing I noticed about the photo looking towards the church door was how the step is worn unevenly as though people step up right foot first. "...about 3 miles..." in which direction? I grew up in Frome and played a few games of football in Holcombe. I didn't realise Scott was buried there - I'll have to go on pilgrimage next time I'm in the area.
I got it wrong... Not buried, but the memorial. His father owned the Brewery in Holcombe. I had NO idea he was from here. It's such a beautiful area.
I love Frome. Last yime we were here we went swimming there. And we will go see a few things at the cheese and grain im sure.
a literal case of bats in the belfry 😁
Shades of Bela Lugosi came to mind!
What a wonderful post 🤩 How lucky to have had the place all to yourselves. The discovery of Scott’s grave, the mound for plague victims - a pretty significant wee church in Holcombe, St. Andrews!
That key looks like it belongs in an epic treasure hunt. Which doesn't seem that far from the truth. Glad you guys are enjoying yourselves!
Killing time til the real adventure, but plenty of mini adventures if we go looking!
What's so complicated about that girl?? You been married to an English man for so long, surely you've mastered the art of weird talk 😉
Hahahahahha I know right?
It's the whole direction thing. He can't find his way in Australia and I can't find my way here!
Sounds like things are calming down for you now you are there. Lovely old church.
Yes I'm way calmer, though not without my internal dramas as usual. Sigh.
So, you got the man in a full British farmer outfit holding a walking stick &&&&& you also have a giganormous magical key. It's all set for the quest. Can it get more exciting?
I can't fully transcript what's written in that man's stone. He's been a Royal Navy commander who perished while returning from the South Pole in 1912? Is that right? Gotta further search his name on google. Anyways. Three years later and Shackleton would be stranded near Antarctica.
So yes I think you'd enjoy the story of Scott as well! One of the big exploration stories. It didn't end well but he was also much aligned. He was doing things no one else had done. I got it wrong though, it's not a grave here, but a memorial.
I know right, as soon as my sister in law said 'giant key' I was in!
UK is fucking awesome, seriously. I'd give an arm to live in the countryside. Everyone has a story to tell. Everything is a bit of history. One day, talking to a lady she mentioned her father was awarded a high distinction for his services in the royal army; mad man was one of the guys rescued in Dunkirk. And I was like holy shit that she was casually telling me such an awesome story. Here ppl talk about... soccer maybe? fucking awful.
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