Gimingham, Trimingham, Knapton and Trunch,
Northrepps and Southrepps, all in a bunch.
This little verse makes it sound as though one could gently amble between all six villages in a day. I walked ten miles covering the four central-most villages. I suppose ‘five-mile radius’ doesn’t rhyme with Trunch.
Apparently, they all belonged to the Manor of Gimingham, which came into the possession of John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster and father of Henry IV, in 1380. They are charming North Norfolk villages, slightly off the beaten track. With the exception of Trimingham, they all lie slightly inland from the eroding coastline – at least for now – and are unspoilt by caravans and holiday homes.
Before I reached them, my sat-nav took me on an unexpected route through that rare thing, a part of North Norfolk not familiar to me. The lanes north-east of Saxthorpe wind their way through what, in East Anglian terms, is rolling countryside. These lanes are punctuated by churches. I’m sure at one point I passed four within five minutes. Obviously, I wanted to stop the car and explore every single one of them. Self-control prevailed – I had a walking route planned – but I might see if I can squeeze in a walk here before the sabbatical is out.
Today began at St James, Southrepps. This is one of Norfolk’s biggest towers, but this morning barely visible through a mist coming in from the North Sea. It’s a big church too, and would have been even bigger before 1791. The building by that stage was dilapidated, so the parishioners in their prudence demolished the north and south aisles in order to focus their efforts – and cash – on the tower, nave and chancel.
When I was a teenager, we had several years of family holidays in neighbouring Gimingham, and my chief memory of Southrepps is ringing here. The tower captain was Derick Grey, a proper Norfolk ‘buh’, and an absolute gentleman. I remember him well as a ringer, but I had entirely forgotten what he did for a living.
As I walked round the church I was struck by the craftmanship evident in the modern nave altar. On its front is carved a shell, the emblem of St James, echoing the stonework around the base of the tower and west window. On the reverse of the altar was a plaque: ‘This altar table was crafted by Derick Grey of Southrepps.’
Of course, Derick was a carpenter. And his work is everywhere in this church. The gallery and floor of the ringing chamber is his, as I imagine is the banister for the pulpit. Adjacent to the church, where that north aisle would have been, is a superb and sympathetic extension; all the carpentry here is his too.
I reckon I last saw Derick some 25 years ago. When one is young, all adults seem older than they are. So I spent a good ten minutes this morning looking round the churchyard expecting to find his grave. A few enquiries later, and it turned out Derick is very much still this side of the veil, and looking forward to his ninetieth birthday next week.
I walked north, the mist getting so thick that I could see it swirling around the fields. My next church is worth visiting if only for its dedication: St John the Baptist’s Head, Trimingham. St John the Baptist and Our Lady are the only saints whose earthly birthdays are marked in the Christian calendar. The feast of the Beheading of John the Baptist falls on 29 August, this is one of only two churches in the country which are named in honour of his earthly demise.
The reason for this mawkish dedication is found in a fifteenth century will, which refers to this church housing the relic of the Baptist’s severed head. In reality, it was probably an alabaster replica, mass-produced (like beer is today) in Burton-on-Trent. That didn’t stop the local clergy making a buck or two out of it, and the dedication has stuck.
I’ve passed this church on the coast road many times, and always thought that its squat little tower looks as though it’s had its head cut off in sympathy with its patron. But I couldn’t find anything in the church guide to back that theory up.
Inside, the church has a good painted rood screen, rescued in the nineteenth century from a barn. It did well to survive there for such a long time. In the twentieth century this parish had a parson – the Revd Charles Page – whose hobby was wood carving. His biblical scenes appear everywhere you look: war memorial, reredos, pulpit, memorial to his parents, clergy stalls, and even his own epitaph. He was clearly a man of foresight.
As I travailed inland the mist relented, and by lunchtime I was walking alongside Mill Pond in Gimingham. In the rushes was a swan’s nest with six or seven newly hatched cygnets. They were all healthy, apart from one which clearly wasn’t going to survive.
This is a linear village, with the north and south separated by a thicket of trees. At the centre of this little copse is the All Saints, Gimingham. Standing outside the porch you would think you were in the middle nowhere. I wonder if, historically, the two halves of the village were at enmity, and would only come together on consecrated ground.
Those teenage holidays were spent in a cottage in the village owned by (and next door to) Miss Jean Rowe. As a young woman Jean moved here to teach at the tiny village school, and became the church organist.
In 1970 she became only the seventh woman to be licensed as a Lay Reader, and, on her death in 2020, was the longest serving female Lay Reader in the Church of England. She was an oblate of the Community of All Hallows at Ditchingham, and was a person of deep holiness. She used to arrange for me to practise the organ at nearby Trunch, because the organ at Gimingham didn’t have a full pedalboard.
The church is delightful, and beautifully kept, but I left here feeling sad. Gimingham now has a service only on the fifth Sunday of the month – so just three or four times a year. (Mundesley Community Rooms is the only building that seems to get a weekly Sunday service in a benefice with seven churches.) There are five people of the electoral roll in a village of 400. Was the sickly cygnet a sign that this church will die with Jean? I hope not.
On every Norfolk church-crawler’s bucket list must be the font canopy at St Botolph, Trunch, dated to around 1500. It is the most extraordinary construction. I have visited this church many times, and marvelled at it. But one of the rewarding things about this sabbatical is being able to take my time. I must have spent thirty minutes admiring the intricacy of the craftsmanship.
The font itself is relatively plain, but with some interesting flushwork normally only found on exterior walls of Norfolk churches. More unusually, it is hexagonal, matching the geometry of the canopy.
There is a helpful laminated guide which debunks some of the myths surrounding this wonderful edifice. There is not, as popularly thought, a dog chasing a rabbit. Rather, the two are facing one another, and the dog has its tongue hanging out in peace, rather than its jaws seized in venom. The guide suggests this is a symbol of the relationship between faith (represented by the dog) and rebirth (represented by the rabbit). Indeed, the guide argues that everything on this canopy is designed as a teaching aid on the sacrament of baptism.
My route meandered down through Lower Southrepps, whose quaint cottages and former Methodist chapel overlook a stream. By now the mist had lifted entirely, and the tower of Southrepps was fully visible against the grey skies. There was time for a swift half (Fat Cat, Norfolk Bitter) in the Vernon Arms. As I drove away from the village the clouds parted for the first time that day, and Southrepps church, visible in my rearview mirror, was bathed in sunshine.
This was a good walk to remember very fondly two people who have been stalwarts of church life in this part of Norfolk, both of whom encouraged me in my youth. One is now almost 90, the other died not long after her ninetieth birthday. The intricately carved woodwork at Trunch reminds us that all Christians, living and departed, are united by baptism. What a wonderful thing it is to be under the canopy which is the family of Jesus Christ.
Walk: 9.8 miles https://explore.osmaps.com/route/21444034/southrepps-circular
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