St Mary, Surlingham

Surlingham is a lovely place, not far removed from Norwich but hidden away in the bend of the great, wide river. It feels more remote than it is. When Arthur Mee came here in the 1940s he bemoaned the fact that the setting of the church was spoilt by the aunt sallies of the petrol age, by which he meant the village petrol pumps, probably set up outside the old smithy. But they are long gone today, alas.

The rugged Norman round tower rises in a number of stages, as if it had telescoped out of the ground. There is a pretty bell stage perched on the top which went up as a result of mid-15th Century bequests. The north aisle makes an asymmetric shape of the church behind it, but this is still a small church in an intimate churchyard. And then you come around to the east end of the church and you can see that the chancel was completely rebuilt in the 18th Century with arched wooden windows typical of the time. The east and south walls are in brick, but the north side is stone faced in what appears to be a deliberate attempt to make it look older, a kind of antiquarian folly. The north doorway was rebuilt in brick at the same time.

The south doorway opens into a nave which is full of white light, a pretty interior, with a gallery at the west end which looks as if it might have been a layer of a wedding cake. By contrast, the 15th Century font is like a melting cheese, with deep set reliefs in the traditional East Anglian manner. The green ceiling of the chancel and the wooden framed east window give it a jolly organic feel. All in all, properly Anglican, with a sense of being well-loved and cared for.

Apart from the font, there are other relics of medieval days. John Alnwick was a priest here in the church's Catholic days (indeed, Mee points out that he was probably the first priest to use the font when it was new) and he has a brass effigy in the chancel from about 1460. Richard Louhawkys, one of his successors, is remembered by a rare early 16th Century chalice brass to the west.

Outside, the cow parsley to the east and north of the church is alive in summer with flitting and stumbling bees, all busy collecting nectar. Perhaps they are descendants of the ones that John Alnwick and Richard Louhawkys knew. A few hundred yards to the east of the church, along a track that runs to the north of the churchyard, is the ruin of St Saviour, Surlingham's other church. There were still presentations to the living into the start of the 18th Century, but soon afterwards the two parishes were consolidated, and St Saviour was abandoned.

Simon Knott, March 2022

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