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St
Margaret, Drayton
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There's
something a bit relentless about the Norwich
suburbia which sprawls along the road to
Fakenham, but not far from the busy road I was
delighted to discover a children's play area
which had obviously once been a village green.
Some old houses lined one side, and above them
was the little church. It was easy to see that
Drayton had once been a village. There was a
big black car parked in the gateway, and I didn't
really register the reason for a moment. We
climbed the pathway, passing large rose beds cut
out of the grass, a somewhat suburban intrusion
in the otherwise rural character of what is a
lovely graveyard. They would be more at home on a
traffic island, I think. A black-suited man was
standing outside the south door. He greeted us
expectantly, and then it dawned on me. At this
moment, the robed minister stepped out, and
seemed disappointed that we were not there for
the interment of ashes, but said that we were
very welcome to take a look inside the church.
And so we did.
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The
Victorians were generally busy in the suburbs of Norwich,
and the interior of St Margaret is as crisp and neat as
the outside. But I liked it for this; it felt a busy
place, obviously well loved and looked after, with the
smell of lilies and wood polish that are evocative of the
pride of that century before we were born. The church was
pretty much rebuilt during the third quarter of that
century, a process made necessary by the tower collapsing
into the nave in 1850.
The
restoration has left a great curiosity. When the chancel
arch was rebuilt further east, and an aisle added to the
north, the stone entrance to the old rood loft stairway
was rescued, and now sits like a sentry box in the north
arcade.
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are two excellent panels of continental glass in
a south window. One depicts Anna at the
Presentation in the Temple, while the other is a
beautiful Visitation, the Blessed Virgin placing
her comforting hand on the arm of the elderly St
Elizabeth, their eyes meeting in an expression of
hope. Interestingly, the window sill beneath it
has a piscina drain set into it, showing that
there was once an altar here. The east
end of the north aisle forms a little chapel, and
the glass in the north corner is a beautiful
etched glass rendition of the Blessed Virgin and
child. The 19th century glass in this aisle is
all good, particularly the Presentation in the
Temple scene, and from a few decades later comes
a brass which notes, unusually, that the person
remembered by it died from effects of poison
gas, which I don't think I have seen on a
memorial before.
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