Walk 21: Norwich - the rest!

After a break for half-term, I returned today to Norfolk, for the third of my three days walking Norwich’s churches. Today’s route was loosely based on the Medieval Churches of the Cathedral Quarter trail. I say loosely, because I omitted churches already visited as part of the Julian of Norwich trail back in April, and I added a couple of churches that would have otherwise gone unvisited. The trail was made even looser by my inability to read upside down. This is an excellent resource, but the PDF is designed for printing, not for downloading to a phone.

I began at St Martin-at-Palace, not only in the care of the Norwich Historic Churches Trust, but also the charity’s headquarters and visitor centre. I expected to walk into a church-crawlers’ paradise: anoraked men of a certain age clutching their Pevsners; heated debates in the south transept about which Norfolk churches should (and shouldn't) be in Simon Jenkins’ England’s Thousand Best; and little old ladies drinking tea while comparing their sketches of angle piscinas. The reality was very different. The building doubles-up as a drop-in centre for asylum seekers and refugees. People were queuing to meet advisers, and the chancel was packed for an English language class.

It was a scene familiar to me from my previous parish in Finsbury Park. Part of that church was leased to a homeless families project, of which I was a trustee. One might not associate Norfolk, a county so remote it doesn’t have a motorway, as a place where asylum seekers are housed. It is a far cry from Zone 2. But this is another sign of the scale of the refugee crisis. I prayed, as I have in every church closed for worship, verses of the hymn In our day of thanksgiving:

Yet here they confessed they were strangers and pilgrims,

and still they were seeking the city of God.

Now that this church is no longer used for those pursuing the heavenly city, I found myself also praying that a new generation of strangers and pilgrims, seeking a better earthly city, may find welcome and hospitality in these walls and in this city. Much of the hostility towards refugees forgets the scale of human tragedy involved.

The NHCT office is upstairs in the north aisle, and here I received a very warm welcome from staff members Julie and Natalie. We had a long and wide-ranging chat about the work of the Trust, bellringing, and the current and future uses of redundant churches. I learnt about the Heavenly Gardens initiative. It hadn't occurred to me before that Norwich is a city centre short on green space, and that what green space does exist is mostly churchyard. I was really grateful for their time and interest.

St Helen, featured in Betjeman’s A Passion for Churches, is part of the Great Hospital, tucked behind the Cathedral Close next to the Adam and Eve pub. It has grown since Betjeman’s visit, and is now a larger complex of sheltered accommodation for the elderly. The grounds are private, and the church is not generally open except for heritage days.

Having driven from London this morning, it was now already lunchtime. I met Fr Richard Stanton – who has become a welcome response to the psalm in these walks – at The Murderers on Timberhill. It may not sound the most inviting name for a pub, but it’s a great pit stop for a pie and a pint, and one of Norwich’s real ale havens.

I have appreciated these opportunities to speak to clergy about what I am discovering on my walks, and comparing my observations with their experience of ministry in Norfolk. Fr Richard was keen to ask what conclusions I am coming to. For the purposes of the blog, I shall keep these close to my chest, at least for now!

There is no city in the country I have visited more than Norwich, but I don’t think I’d ever explored St Giles, the area west of City Hall. It has the feel of an urban village: chic shops, trendy cafés, and homely pubs, all elevated above the city centre. St Giles-on-the-Hill, from which the area takes its name, has ‘the loftiest tower in Norwich’ according to Mortlock. Is it really taller than Mancroft? It’s handsome regardless, as is the south porch. A rarity among today’s churches, it is still in regular use, but sadly not open during the week.

Today the ring-road acts much like the city wall must have done in the past. The Roman Catholic Cathedral of St John the Baptist feels like it’s the wrong side of the tracks, and perhaps, given the journey towards Catholic emancipation in the nineteenth century, there’s a reason it was built here: of the city, but not in it. Designed as a parish church by George Gilbert Scott (Junior), and built between 1884 and 1910, it became the cathedral of new Diocese of East Anglia in 1976.

It's very much all of a piece – a surprise neo-Early English church in a county of Perpendicular. It must have been a bold statement by the then Duke of Norfolk, its chief benefactor, to the county of his title. The stained glass is stunning, and I was particularly drawn to the windows in the chapel of Our Lady of Walsingham. They tell the story of Walsingham, including the burning of the medieval image, and, in more recent and happier times, a cardinal – complete with cappa magna – re-hallowing the Slipper Chapel.

I was slightly embarrassed that this is the first time I had visited this cathedral. Not as embarrassed, I dare say, as the communications team of the (Anglican) Diocese of Leeds must have been, when, a few years ago, they tweeted a message of congratulations to the population of Bradford on being chosen as the City of Culture 2025. The image they paired with the message was, inexplicably, of this building. Put not your trust in Google.

This was the only church still used for worship which I stepped foot in today.

The churches of St Laurence (Churches Conservation Trust), St Margaret (NHCT) and St Swithun (NHCT) are all within a few hundred yards of each other on St Benedict’s Street. St Swithun is an arts centre, and looks very active, and St Margaret’s has a beautifully rejuvenated garden as part of the Heavenly Gardens project. But none of these churches was open today. At the end of the street, enclosed by low-rise, red-brick flats, is the round tower of St Benedict. The rest of this church, and its surroundings, fell victim to Second World War bombing.

In a city packed with medieval churches, this little patch of Norwich must have had the highest concentration of all. Back towards the city centre, on the other side of St Benedict’s Street, is St Gregory. Set back and below Pottergate, it appears from outside much smaller than it is. Inside it’s a glorious building, now used as an antiques centre. The Norfolk Historic Churches Trust is custodian. It retains much of its liturgical furniture if you look hard enough: font, pulpit, organ case and altar are all in situ. (The latter has had its consecration stone removed, but, even so, it would be preferable if it wasn’t used to display bric-a-brac.) There’s a large and impressive fifteenth century St George slaying the dragon above the till.

I’m not especially fussy about a redundant church being used as an antique centre. (Altar excepted.) At least it means that people can visit freely. Of course I’d rather it was still used as a church, or, failing that, for benevolent charitable purposes. But Norwich has so many church buildings. I know, from my conversation with Julie and Natalie, income from them is vital if they are to be maintained.

St John Maddermarket is in the care on the Churches Conservation Trust. I’ve been past many times, and would love to see inside. A notice displayed opening times (two hours, three days a week) for March 2024. Like St Peter Mancroft, it has a processional arch under the tower.

St Michael at Plea, so named because ecclesiastical trials were held here, is another NHCT building. The nave is a Christian bookshop, and the chancel a café. The ridge of the nave roof is peculiarly angular. The lady at the till said she occasionally worries one of the angels might descend unexpectedly. This building still feels churchy, perhaps partly because of the SPCK furnishings which I’ve seen line the walls of redundant churches in other cities.

A stone’s throw away is a redundant church with a difference. I have walked past St Mary-the-Less countless times without knowing it is there. I can be forgiven! Most Norwich churches were declared redundant in the second half of the last century. This church was closed in 1544. The tower is visible above Sowerbys Estate Agents, and the tiny porch is sandwiched between shopfronts. It has spent most of the time since its closure in private ownership, and had two renaissances for religious use in the nineteenth century, first with the Church of the New Jerusalem (also known as the Swedenborgians), and then the Catholic Apostolic Church (Irvingites). Today it looks forlorn and forsaken, as if it shares its fate with those most uncommon of Christian denominations.

My final stop was St Simon and St Jude, just before Fye Bridge, with its half-ruined tower looking like a miniature North Walsham. This is yet another NHCT building. It’s leased to Curious Directive, a theatre company.

I can now say that I have been to every medieval church in Norwich. It has been an enriching experience. I have discovered new parts of a city which is close to my heart, and I’ve witnessed so many buildings used in different ways.

I think I peaked with my first walk here, the Julian of Norwich trail, back in April, when the sun shone and I visited so many open buildings bursting with activity. Neither Norwich-over-the-Water, at the beginning of the soggiest of half-terms, nor today’s walk, has delivered in quite the same way. But this perambulation around the city centre had its highlights. It was really excellent to put some faces to the Norwich Historic Churches Trust, whose custodianship of eighteen medieval churches is nothing short of herculean. I am so glad to have visited the Roman Catholic Cathedral.

There are heritage open days in Norwich every September, when most if not all of these church buildings are open to the public. I am sorely tempted to blag a day off from the parish then and do them all in one go. Meanwhile, I am looking forward to being back in the Norfolk countryside tomorrow, and getting some soil (and sand) under my feet.