Saint Mary Somerset, Lambeth Hill … all that remains of the church is the tower with its pinnacles (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)
Patrick Comerford
On my walks between Liverpool Street Station and the offices of USPG in Southwark two weeks ago [9 May 2018], I stopped to look at the remaining towers of two lost London churches: Saint Augustine Watling Street, which stood to the east of Saint Paul’s Cathedral, and the Church of Saint Mary Somerset, where Upper Thames Street and Lambeth Hill meet, south of Saint Paul’s.
Both churches were rebuilt in the late 17th century by Sir Christopher Wren after the Great Fire of London.
The Church of Saint Mary Somerset is first recorded in the late 12th century, in a deed in the reign of Richard I.
Lambeth Hill is some distance from Lambeth, but the street name was derived from Lambard and was changed to Lambeth because of folk etymology. It is even further from Somerset, so the designation ‘Somerset’ in the church name is more puzzling. It has been linked to Ralph de Somery, who is mentioned in records at the same time. It is also linked to Summer’s Hithe, a small haven on the Thames, at a time when the banks of the river were much closer.
Following disputes between the Flemish weavers and the weavers from Brabant in London in the late 14th century, the Mayor of London ordered the weavers from Brabant in 1370 to meet in the churchyard of Saint Mary Somerset for the purpose of hiring serving men, while the Flemish weavers were ordered to meet a safe distance away in the churchyard of Saint Laurence Pountney.
The church was destroyed in the Great Fire of 1666. Before the Great Fire, London had 14 churches named after the Virgin Mary. This one of six of those churches rebuilt after the Fire and one of the 51 churches in London rebuilt by the office of Sir Christopher Wren. At the same time, the parish of Saint Mary Somerset was combined with the parish of Saint Mary Mounthaw, which was not rebuilt.
Saint Mary Somerset, Lambeth Hill … the church was rebuilt by Sir Christopher Wren’s office after the Great Fire of 1666 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)
Building the new church began in 1686, but stopped in 1688 owing to the financial uncertainty associated with the Williamite Revolution. Rebuilding recommenced the next year, and the church was finished in 1694 at a cost of £6,579. The rebuilt church was smaller than its predecessor, as a strip of land was taken by the City to widen what was then Thames Street.
Wren’s church had a nave but no aisles and had a flat roof. George Godwin described the interior as ‘a mere room with low whitewashed walls.’ Two columns supported a gallery at the west end, from which the royal coat of arms was suspended.
The tower projected from the south-west. It is 120 ft high and faced with Portland stone. Lines of windows, alternately circular and round headed, run up each side, with grotesque masks and cherubs serving as keystones.
Saint Mary Somerset, Lambeth Hill … the pinnacles, obelisks and finials may have been designed by Nicholas Hawksmoor (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)
The unique features of the tower are the eight baroque pinnacles. The four on each corner have panelled bases and scrolls, surmounted by urns or vases. Between each of these are 20 ft obelisks, with ball finials. The style strongly suggests that they were designed by Nicholas Hawksmoor. They create the optical illusion of changing heights when viewed from different vantage points.
The parish was very poor, and it was one of only two churches for which Wren provided funds for the furnishings from the Coal Tax – the other was Saint Andrew-by-the-Wardrobe.
Gilbert Ironside (1632-1701), Bishop of Bristol (1689-1691) and then Bishop of Hereford (1691-1701), was buried here in 1701. As Vice-Chancellor of Oxford University, Ironside had defied James II in upholding the rights of the fellows of Magdalen College, Oxford.
The Communion plate was stolen from Saint Mary Somerset in 1801 and was never recovered. At this time, the church had a reputation for being Low Church. James Peller Malcolm wrote in Londinium Redivivum (1803): ‘When I mention that the late well-known Methodist Mr Gunn was a preacher in it on certain days, the trampled and dirty state of the church will not be wondered at.’
There was a major movement of population from the City of London in the second half of the 19th century to new suburbs in Middlesex, Kent, Essex and Surrey. With these moves, many of the city churches in London were left with tiny congregations, while many of the newly-built suburbs had no churches.
The Union of Benefices Act (1860) allowed the demolition of City churches and the sale of land to build churches in the suburbs. Over 20 churches were demolished to make way for other buildings, including railway stations. The last service was held in Saint Mary Somerset on 1 February 1867, with about 70 people present.
Saint Mary Somerset, Lambeth Hill … the last service was held here is 1867 and the church was demolished in 1871 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)
The parish was then combined with Saint Nicholas Cole Abbey, and the church was demolished in 1871. Before the church was demolished, Bishop Ironside’s body and his black marble tombstone were moved to Hereford Cathedral in 1867.
Thanks to the efforts of the architect Ewan Christian (1814-1895), the church tower was preserved. The proceeds of the sale were used to build Saint Mary Hoxton, which also received the church furnishings and the bell.
Before World War II, the church tower was used as a women’s rest room. The tower now stands on a traffic island surrounded by a small landscaped garden.
The pinnacles on the tower were taken down after World War II, due to bomb damage in the London Blitz. The remains of the church were designated a Grade I listed building on 4 January 1950, and the pinnacles of the tower were restored in 1956.
The building is being refurbished and extended into a private family home by the architects Pilbrow and Partners.
Before the redevelopment of the tower as a residential property, an archaeological survey found a short section of the west wall of the Wren church and a substantial quantity of human skeletal remains that were removed for reburial.
Saint Mary Somerset, Lambeth Hill … the tower is being converted into a private residence (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)
22 May 2018
A ‘snatch of heaven’ and
a taste of summer among
peacocks in the vineyard
A peacock shows his pride in the Domaine de Rombeau, near Rivesaltes (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)
Patrick Comerford
My visit to the Perpignan area in the south of France last week seemed to begin and end in vineyards in Roussillon.
After arriving at Perpignan on Tuesday afternoon, three of us stopped on our way to the coast at Domaine Lafage, where Jean-Marc and Eliane Lafage farm 160 hectares of vines on their estate between Perpignan and the Mediterranean, where a significant proportion of their vines are well over 50 years old.
Their estate is farmed organically, and their wines range from refreshing whites to concentrated reds.
On Friday afternoon, after visiting the Forteresse de Salses, which once guarded the border between Spain and France, we stopped off at the Domaine de Rombeau, near Rivesaltes, where the estate has been in the hands of the de La Fabrègue family for centuries.
From their 120 hectares of vines and 23 grape varieties, Pierre-Henri de La Fabrègue and Philippe Raspaud de La Fabrègue produce different types of wine, including Muscats de Rivesaltes, Rivesaltes, Côtes du Roussillon, Côtes du Roussillon Villages and Côtes Catalanes, wines that combine elegance and intensity.
These wines are acclaimed by the French and international media, are mentioned by the main guides, and have regularly received numerous regional and national awards over the decades. Much of the wine produced here is sold directly at the wine cellar, and in the restaurant there attracts more than 10,000 customers a month.
Enjoying a taste of summer and a snatch of heaven in the Domaine de Rombeau at the end of last week (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)
It was one of those sun-kissed afternoons that seem like a snatch of heaven as three of us sat by the vines and the groves, sharing a bottle of Le Muscat de Rivesaltes that seemed to be a taste of summer sunshine.
A large number of peafowl – peacocks and peahens – walk around the domain freely. Peafowl are forest birds that nest on the ground, but roost in trees. They are terrestrial feeders, and domesticated peafowl enjoy protein rich food, including larvae that infest granaries, different kinds of meat and fruit, as well as vegetables, including dark leafy greens, broccoli, carrots, beans, beets, and peas. This makes them appropriate birds to keep in an organic vineyard, acting as a natural protection for the vines.
A peacock in the vineyard in the Domaine de Rombeau … soon they were eating from my hand (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)
They are curious birds too, always ready to respond to the presence of people. Despite their innate independence, they can appear to be both disdainful and socially curious at one and the same time.
With this natural curiosity, sociability and their feeding habits, it was easy to entice the peacocks and peahens with the nuts and raisins that accompanied our wine. To the surprise of the other two in our group, I soon had peacocks and peahens eating from my hand as we sat at the table, and walking around us, like cats seeking to make sense of the afternoon visitors.
Similarly, I found it easy to attract the attention of peacocks when I visited the Monastery of Vlatadon in Thessaloniki at Easter last month.
A peacock in the Monastery of Vlatadon in Thessaloniki at Easter (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)
I have long been fascinated by peacocks. When I was living in Wexford in the mid-1970s, I went on a long walk in the sunshine one Sunday afternoon and came across a farm near Piercestown, 7 km south of Wexford town, where there was a large number of peafowl in the farmyard.
I turned into work at the Wexford People the following morning, enthusiastic about offering a feature on what appeared to be an exotic peacock colony. But everyone else seemed to know about it and was dismissive, and no-one shared my enthusiasm.
The feature was never written – but then, it was in the days when newspapers were in black and white, and any photographs could never have done justice to the sight that delighted me that summer afternoon.
Perhaps my curiosity about peacocks dates back to an early stage in life, when I was first interested in the family tree and realised that peacocks decorate the crests in the coat-of-arms of both the Comerford and Comberford families: a peacock’s head in the case of two branches of the family, and a peacock in his pride in a third branch.
They are part of the heraldic symbolism of the families not because of some inflated sense of pride, but because the peacock is a symbol of the Resurrection.
In ancient Persia and Babylon, the peacock was associated with Paradise and the Tree of Life and was seen as a guardian to royalty, and was often engraved upon royal thrones.
These birds were not known to Greeks before the conquests of Alexander the Great. Aristotle, who was Alexander’s tutor, refers to the peacock as ‘the Persian bird.’ In classical Greece, it was believed that the flesh of peafowl did not decay after death, and so the peacock became a symbol of immortality.
This symbolism was adopted in early Christianity, and many early Christian paintings and mosaics show the peacock. The peacock is still used in the Easter season, especially in the east. The ‘eyes’ in the peacock’s tail feathers symbolise the all-seeing God and – in some interpretations – the Church.
Peacocks and peacock feathers as symbols of the Resurrection in mosaics in Ravenna (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)
A peacock drinking from a vase is used as a symbol of a Christian believer drinking from the waters of eternal life. The peacock can also symbolise the cosmos if one interprets his tail with his many ‘eyes’ as the vault of heaven dotted by the sun, moon, and stars. The peacock is associated with immortality, and in iconography the peacock is often depicted next to the Tree of Life.
Peacocks often appear in early Christian art as a symbol of the Resurrection and Eternal Life.
Some commentators have written that the reference in the Book of Revelation to four living creatures ‘full of eyes in front and behind’ before the throne is inspired by images of the tail of the peacock (see Revelation 4: 6). Other writers also say, ironically, that the peacock is a symbol of humility, since he has great beauty, yet hides it all behind himself.
The peacock has been a symbol of immortality from as early as the third century on the walls of the catacombs of Rome. Later, peacocks appear in mediaeval paintings and manuscripts and in decorative motifs on churches and buildings, and even among the animals in the stable at Christ’s nativity.
One of the best known examples is found in the Adoration of the Magi, a tondo or circular painting dating from 1440-1460 and ascribed to both Fra Angelico and Filippo Lippi. It was recorded in the Palazzo Medici Riccardi in Florence in 1492, and is now in the National Gallery of Art in Washington DC. In this work, a large peacock perches on the top of the stable, looking over his shoulder.
The peacock may have been given a prominent place in this work because Giovanni di Cosimo de Medici (1421-1463) had adopted a peacock as his heraldic symbol, along with the French motto Regarde-Moi (‘Watch me’). This may help to explain how the peacock was popularised as a symbol in late mediaeval heraldry, as seen in the coats-of arms of the Comberford and Comerford families, as well as the Arbuthnot family and the family of the Dukes of Rutland.
As we sat sipping the Domaine de Rombeau, enjoying that snatch of heaven on Friday afternoon, I realised that the Easter season was coming to an end, and that Ordinary Time would begin in the Church Calendar today [21 May 2018], the day after Pentecost. But I found myself thinking of how the English poet William Blake (1757-1827) had written in The Marriage of Heaven and Hell (1793): ‘The pride of the peacock is the glory of God.’
The ‘Adoration of the Magi’ (ca 1440/1460) by Fra Angelico and Fra Filippo Lippi
Patrick Comerford
My visit to the Perpignan area in the south of France last week seemed to begin and end in vineyards in Roussillon.
After arriving at Perpignan on Tuesday afternoon, three of us stopped on our way to the coast at Domaine Lafage, where Jean-Marc and Eliane Lafage farm 160 hectares of vines on their estate between Perpignan and the Mediterranean, where a significant proportion of their vines are well over 50 years old.
Their estate is farmed organically, and their wines range from refreshing whites to concentrated reds.
On Friday afternoon, after visiting the Forteresse de Salses, which once guarded the border between Spain and France, we stopped off at the Domaine de Rombeau, near Rivesaltes, where the estate has been in the hands of the de La Fabrègue family for centuries.
From their 120 hectares of vines and 23 grape varieties, Pierre-Henri de La Fabrègue and Philippe Raspaud de La Fabrègue produce different types of wine, including Muscats de Rivesaltes, Rivesaltes, Côtes du Roussillon, Côtes du Roussillon Villages and Côtes Catalanes, wines that combine elegance and intensity.
These wines are acclaimed by the French and international media, are mentioned by the main guides, and have regularly received numerous regional and national awards over the decades. Much of the wine produced here is sold directly at the wine cellar, and in the restaurant there attracts more than 10,000 customers a month.
Enjoying a taste of summer and a snatch of heaven in the Domaine de Rombeau at the end of last week (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)
It was one of those sun-kissed afternoons that seem like a snatch of heaven as three of us sat by the vines and the groves, sharing a bottle of Le Muscat de Rivesaltes that seemed to be a taste of summer sunshine.
A large number of peafowl – peacocks and peahens – walk around the domain freely. Peafowl are forest birds that nest on the ground, but roost in trees. They are terrestrial feeders, and domesticated peafowl enjoy protein rich food, including larvae that infest granaries, different kinds of meat and fruit, as well as vegetables, including dark leafy greens, broccoli, carrots, beans, beets, and peas. This makes them appropriate birds to keep in an organic vineyard, acting as a natural protection for the vines.
A peacock in the vineyard in the Domaine de Rombeau … soon they were eating from my hand (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)
They are curious birds too, always ready to respond to the presence of people. Despite their innate independence, they can appear to be both disdainful and socially curious at one and the same time.
With this natural curiosity, sociability and their feeding habits, it was easy to entice the peacocks and peahens with the nuts and raisins that accompanied our wine. To the surprise of the other two in our group, I soon had peacocks and peahens eating from my hand as we sat at the table, and walking around us, like cats seeking to make sense of the afternoon visitors.
Similarly, I found it easy to attract the attention of peacocks when I visited the Monastery of Vlatadon in Thessaloniki at Easter last month.
A peacock in the Monastery of Vlatadon in Thessaloniki at Easter (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)
I have long been fascinated by peacocks. When I was living in Wexford in the mid-1970s, I went on a long walk in the sunshine one Sunday afternoon and came across a farm near Piercestown, 7 km south of Wexford town, where there was a large number of peafowl in the farmyard.
I turned into work at the Wexford People the following morning, enthusiastic about offering a feature on what appeared to be an exotic peacock colony. But everyone else seemed to know about it and was dismissive, and no-one shared my enthusiasm.
The feature was never written – but then, it was in the days when newspapers were in black and white, and any photographs could never have done justice to the sight that delighted me that summer afternoon.
Perhaps my curiosity about peacocks dates back to an early stage in life, when I was first interested in the family tree and realised that peacocks decorate the crests in the coat-of-arms of both the Comerford and Comberford families: a peacock’s head in the case of two branches of the family, and a peacock in his pride in a third branch.
They are part of the heraldic symbolism of the families not because of some inflated sense of pride, but because the peacock is a symbol of the Resurrection.
In ancient Persia and Babylon, the peacock was associated with Paradise and the Tree of Life and was seen as a guardian to royalty, and was often engraved upon royal thrones.
These birds were not known to Greeks before the conquests of Alexander the Great. Aristotle, who was Alexander’s tutor, refers to the peacock as ‘the Persian bird.’ In classical Greece, it was believed that the flesh of peafowl did not decay after death, and so the peacock became a symbol of immortality.
This symbolism was adopted in early Christianity, and many early Christian paintings and mosaics show the peacock. The peacock is still used in the Easter season, especially in the east. The ‘eyes’ in the peacock’s tail feathers symbolise the all-seeing God and – in some interpretations – the Church.
Peacocks and peacock feathers as symbols of the Resurrection in mosaics in Ravenna (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)
A peacock drinking from a vase is used as a symbol of a Christian believer drinking from the waters of eternal life. The peacock can also symbolise the cosmos if one interprets his tail with his many ‘eyes’ as the vault of heaven dotted by the sun, moon, and stars. The peacock is associated with immortality, and in iconography the peacock is often depicted next to the Tree of Life.
Peacocks often appear in early Christian art as a symbol of the Resurrection and Eternal Life.
Some commentators have written that the reference in the Book of Revelation to four living creatures ‘full of eyes in front and behind’ before the throne is inspired by images of the tail of the peacock (see Revelation 4: 6). Other writers also say, ironically, that the peacock is a symbol of humility, since he has great beauty, yet hides it all behind himself.
The peacock has been a symbol of immortality from as early as the third century on the walls of the catacombs of Rome. Later, peacocks appear in mediaeval paintings and manuscripts and in decorative motifs on churches and buildings, and even among the animals in the stable at Christ’s nativity.
One of the best known examples is found in the Adoration of the Magi, a tondo or circular painting dating from 1440-1460 and ascribed to both Fra Angelico and Filippo Lippi. It was recorded in the Palazzo Medici Riccardi in Florence in 1492, and is now in the National Gallery of Art in Washington DC. In this work, a large peacock perches on the top of the stable, looking over his shoulder.
The peacock may have been given a prominent place in this work because Giovanni di Cosimo de Medici (1421-1463) had adopted a peacock as his heraldic symbol, along with the French motto Regarde-Moi (‘Watch me’). This may help to explain how the peacock was popularised as a symbol in late mediaeval heraldry, as seen in the coats-of arms of the Comberford and Comerford families, as well as the Arbuthnot family and the family of the Dukes of Rutland.
As we sat sipping the Domaine de Rombeau, enjoying that snatch of heaven on Friday afternoon, I realised that the Easter season was coming to an end, and that Ordinary Time would begin in the Church Calendar today [21 May 2018], the day after Pentecost. But I found myself thinking of how the English poet William Blake (1757-1827) had written in The Marriage of Heaven and Hell (1793): ‘The pride of the peacock is the glory of God.’
The ‘Adoration of the Magi’ (ca 1440/1460) by Fra Angelico and Fra Filippo Lippi
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