Location: Bagendon, Gloucestershire
Dedication: St. Margaret of Antioch
Denomination: Church of England
Features of Interest: Norman fabric, C15 glass fragments
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The church viewed form the south, showing the tower and south porch to the right. | Taken 31/07/24
St. Margaret's, Bagendon is not a famous church by any means, and is unlikely to crop up in any gazetteer for any particularly outstanding feature. However, there are few churches which can claim such a beautiful and unspoiled situation as Bagendon does, the gorgeous and quaint Cotswold landscape nestling it closely. The church has a history possibly dating back almost a thousand years, and despite not showcasing any specific outstanding examples of medieval (or otherwise) craftsmanship and art, it is well worth a visit for its cutesy charm, and, of course, the visitor who looks closely is still likely to uncover much of interest.
The church's origins are murky; the idea of a now vanished Saxon foundation is a claim that many church guides like to toy with, but Bagendon has more evidence than most. The main basis of this claim stems from many of the multiple windows in the tower, which are monolithic with tiny openings and appear to come from a Saxon building, having been reset here. Whether these openings are Saxon or not, the earliest surviving fabric of the present church building dates from around 1100, comprising the north nave arcade and the lower two stages of the tower. There are also traces of the base of the Norman chancel arch at either end of the present step into the chancel. The tower was formerly split and storeyed into two chambers where priests from Llanthony Secunda Priory in Gloucester (whose chaplains served the church during the 12th century) would lodge.
Hereafter, few changes were made to the church's fabric for some 350 years, with the only exception being the insertion of a two-light window in the southwest nave wall in the 14th century. The next major work to be carried out in the church did not occur until the 15th century, sponsored by the Weavers' Guild of Cirencester, who now held the church and whose chaplains from their home chantry of the Holy Trinity in Cirencester's parish church were responsible for conducting services. This work involved the chancel and chancel arch being rebuilt sometime in the 1460s along with almost every wall and window in the nave and north aisle. Thus the Norman nave arcade now stands marooned in a sea of simple but distinctive Perpendicular Gothic. The south porch and the saddleback upper stage of the tower were also added during this time, and the tower diagonally buttressed. The eastern end of the north aisle was probably a chapel dedicated to the founder at this time, an idea suggested by the height of the aisle's east window making allowance for an altar underneath, and the damage to the eastern portion of the nave arcade suggesting that some sort of parclose was once present to separate this chapel from the remainder of the building. Additonally, the tombstone of the founder in question was discovered under the north wall (now located in the tower and unfortunately inaccessible when I visited).
After the 15th century, the church then faced another equally long period of little rebuilding (which is not particularly unusual in this post-Reformation period), again with the only exception being a window, this time a late 16th/early 17th century one in the west wall of the north aisle. During the 18th century, the southern pier of the chancel arch was partially hacked away in order to install a triple-decker pulpit, and later in the same century (or possible early in the next) the nave and chancel's present wagon roofs were installed.
However, yet to come is the dreaded Victorian restoration. In 1832 (yes I know that this is not during the Victorian era but I am content to lump all of the 19th century changes together!) it was deemed necessary to raise the nave floor due to the effects of flooding, as the level of the church floor lies below the level of nearby Perrott's Brook. In doing so, the tower arch had to be raised as well, and the original Norman work was lost and replaced with a rather severely cut imitation. More alterations came at the end of the century, with two dormer windows being added to the nave in 1877 (an addition which the church guide scathingly describes as 'unsightly') and the nave, aisle, and porch were all given new roofs. The main restoration was carried out by Sidney Gambier-Parry (half brother of the composer Hubert Parry) in 1888-89. This involved removing the raised floor (which apparently had been ineffective against the flooding anyway!) and laying down modern flooring, rebuilding the north wall of the aisle and inserting additional windows, tacking a vestry onto the north of the building, and replacing almost all the fittings and furniture in the church, including the pews and pulpit (this time not triple-decker!).
The church also saw a few changes in the 20th century; the north side of the chancel was re-roofed in 1933, with the south side following in 1962, along with the comprehensive re-roofings of the nave, aisle, porch, and vestry. At the same time, the 'unsightly' dormer windows were removed (and it is revealed in an offhand remark by the church guide that they were taken to Canberra for some reason!) and the south porch entirely rebuilt and reinforced (reusing the original materials) due to significant subsidence.
The information here has been taken variously from the church guide (leaflet available from the church) and the Historic England listing.
Bagendon is a textbook example of a quintessential Cotswold village (and I use the word 'village' generously for a settlement this miniature), a slice of idealised English country life. Whilst I'm sure the house prices would be eyewatering and the local ballot papers be staunchly blue, it cannot be denied that Bagendon is one of the most picture-perfect areas of the country imaginable. The church is what makes this view, the centrepiece of a rich ensemble, but the view simultaneously augments the church, which is cradled in a shallow dip in the centre of the village among lush trees and golden Cotswold stone cottages. With all this in mind, the church's situation and aspect are undoubtedly up there with the most pleasantly and adorably beautiful I have seen with my own eyes.
Entering the church does nothing to change this cutesy feeling. Whilst the space does not feel particularly ancient, with the Victorians having neatly obliterated that feeling, the closeness and shallowness of the architectural elements make the space feel homely and quaint, with the squat chancel arch and nave arcade doing much to bring the dimensions of the space inwards around the visitor. Whilst not the darkest of interiors, the electric lighting is still very much needed in order to comfortably visually explore the place, although this lighting is distinctly unnatural and deadens the space a little. Despite the fact that the church is so small and the fittings mostly so unimaginatively Victorian or later, it should absolutely be explored thoroughly and with an open mind. And try the tower door as well, it might be open this time!
As I outlined in the introduction, Bagendon is a church to visit for its peaceful atmosphere and setting rather than for its 'treasures,' per se. It is churches like this one which make me question whether I should rename this section to 'Points of Interest,' as what I cover in detail in such a minor church I would gloss over in a major church. Still, the title points to the fact that every church I visit has something worth treasuring, and in Bagendon's case it is the fragmentary medieval glass, mostly of the 15th century.
As with other media of medieval art in English churches, it is a precious rarity for medieval stained/painted glass to have survived the religious and political upheavals of the intermediate centuries to reach us in the present day in any sort of complete form. Many medieval churches cannot present anything but the most meagre of scraps to attest to their once flourishing schemes of window decoration, and whilst Bagendon may appear to be in that category in terms of the integrity of what is to be seen at the church, the glass here is towards the higher end of the national average regarding volume and interpretability of its fragments. There are four windows containing 15th century glass fragments in the church: the northeast and east windows of the aisle, and the two south windows of the chancel.
The southeast chancel window is the most interesting in my opinion. The fragments here were reassembled in memory of the eleven Bagendon men who lost their lives during World War 1, with a stylistically complementary inscription to them in the lower left corner. The window is pleasingly colour-coded with rich, golden-yellow hues in harmony with a range of blues. The left hand pane contains fragments of a scene depicting the crucifixion, with Christ's nailed feet and right hand being visible, as well as, most prominently, the skull of Adam buried beneath. The right hand pane has a heraldic shield of one of the wealthy members of the Cirencester Weavers' Guild at its centre, presumably the insignia of one of the bankrollers of the 15th century remodelling of the church, and fragments of a depiction of St. Catherine of Alexandria below.
The southeast chancel window. Both the medieval glass and the tracery date to the C15, with the inscriptions being early C20. The Tudor roses in the spandrel panes look to be in situ, having been made to fit these specific spaces. | Taken 31/07/24
The names of the village's eleven fallen. This may not seem like many losses across an entire settlement, but in a village which even today only has around 230 inhabitants, the proportion is significant and harrowing. This proportion (which would have been even higher at the time when the village's population was lower) is equivalent to 430,000 Londoners having been killed; ten times the amount that were. | Taken 31/07/24
The inscription to the fallen at the bottom of the pane, surmounted by the skull of Adam who is in turn surmounted by the nailed feet of Christ. Slightly unusually, this section of the window opens out. | Taken 31/07/24
A closer look at the skull of Adam, buried beneath Golgotha. The skull is of questionable anatomical accuracy, but the untoward pair of wide eyes seem to interrogate and bewitch the viewer. One cannot help but feel that you should look away, while you still can... | Taken 31/07/24
The heraldic shield of a guild member in the right hand pane. The cartouche is nearly identical to that surrounding the WW1 names, meaning that presumably another guild member's shield was once located there in the neighbouring light. | Taken 31/07/24
A now disembodied hand holding a particularly vicious looking iteration of the wheel of St. Catherine. Below, the name 'Katerina' is written in Black Letter. | Taken 31/07/24
The second window in the south wall of the chancel contains similar subject matter in its fragments, with saintly survivals comprising a blobby fragment of St. Dorothy's midsection and the spray of roses in her hand, and a small but well preserved figure of the Virgin Mary. There are also two more heraldic shields of guild members located beneath these figures, and plenty of smaller fragments in the borders, mainly comprising floral and crown motifs. Of particular note in this border section are the remains of a Latin inscription ascribing the work to the patronage of the Holy Trinity chantry [Cirencester], and a small pair of praying hands which I did not notice when at the church.
The other chancel window. What's left of St. Dorothy and her roses is in the upper portion of the left hand light, with the Virgin Mary adjacent in the right hand light. Below them are the guild members' shields. The Latin inscription and praying hands are both in the lower courses of the bordering fragments if you can find them! | Taken 31/07/24
A closer look at the figure of the Virgin Mary, with her frankly enormous hands outstretched in welcome. Perhaps this is intentional, drawing the viewer's focus to them and inviting them to reach towards her in return. Her mild and kindly knowing facial expression adds to this sense that she is communicating 'come with me.' Or perhaps the hands just came out wrong. It happens. | Taken 31/07/24
The final two windows in the north aisle go hand in hand with one another. The northeast window depicts the church's dedicatee, St. Margaret, and St. John the Baptist, with both of these figures being heavily restored reconstructions of medieval glass, and the east window contains some fragments of the original medieval figure of St. Margaret which the restorers neglected to use in the reconstruction. It is not impossible to delineate where restorative extrapolation blends into authentic medieval work, but this exercise is unlikely to yield much of use in terms of visual appreciation. The actual medieval fragments, whilst few and far between, seem to have been sufficient to spark the imagination of the restorers who appear to have run away with the task somewhat. Comparing the reconstructed St. Margaret with her surviving ghostly medieval shell in the east window shows that the newer figure is significantly larger and differently posed in relation to the original.
SS. Margaret & John the Baptist in the northeast aisle window. St. Margaret stands atop her dragon and holds a rigidly chunky book in her left hand, while St. John the Baptist is accompanied by the Lamb of God. Some of the fleurs-de-lys in the border appear to be original, as do the canopies above the figures' heads, but the figures themselves are largely completely new artistic products. | Taken 31/07/24
The aisle's east window, showing the remains of the original figure of St. Margaret in the left hand light. The disparity between this figure's size and position and the reconstructed one is clear. Additionally, the fragment in the centre of the window is from the original medieval dragon depicted in conjunction with St. Margaret. Also note two further surviving in situ Tudor roses in the upper panes. | Taken 31/07/24
The church from the south. The situation is truly lovely and should absolutely be savoured. | Taken 31/07/24
The early C12 Norman nave arcade. The defacement from the possible addition of a parclose on the right hand pier is evident. | Taken 31/07/24
The interior facing east, showing the restrictively low four-centred chancel arch. Note the sawn off face of the south pier of the chancel arch becoming an excellent place to hang the hymn board! | Taken 31/07/24
The interior facing west. Note the unexplained floating piece of exposed masonry above the tower arch; I have very few ideas for where this might have originated, though I do think it unlikely that the restorers would have bothered to keep it were it not roughly in situ. | Taken 31/07/24
A pair of early C14/early C15 bell clappers mounted on the west wall of the nave. The church today has only one bell, cast by Abraham Rudhall of Gloucester in 1723, and four smaller chiming bells by Gillett and Johnston, given to commemorate Queen Victoria's Diamond Jubilee in 1897. | Taken 31/07/24
The font, though of the plainest countenance, is a minor enigma. The Historic England listing dates it as early C11, which would surely be indicative of an indisputable pre-Conquest foundation for the church. However, it is more likely that the font is simply early Norman. | Taken 31/07/24
I am usually thoroughly unimpressed, even visually offended by Victorian glass, which is often entirely unnecessary, but this example in the northwest window of the aisle is uncharacteristically stylish and caught my eye. It commemorates Edward Trinder (d.1890). | Taken 31/07/24
An egregiously zoomed in shot of the upper corner of the east window. Unless my eyes deceive me, there appear to be traces of painting on the exposed stone of the recess, but it is probably not ancient or the church guide might have been more excited about it! | Taken 31/07/24
The remains of a much abused C12 grave slab in the south porch. This was found in 1963 during refacing of the tower, having been recycled by C15 builders who took it from its original situation in the floor of the church for a new and ignominious use as masonry in the north wall of the tower. It probably commemorated either a past rector or one of the Chandos de Bagendon family who held the manor. | Taken 31/07/24
A closer look at the floriated cross head incised on the upper fragment of the slab. The church possesses two more such grave slabs, both probably from the late C11, one commemorating the founder with a plain Latin cross, and the other with a Maltese cross. Both are now located under the tower and were inaccessible. | Taken 31/07/24
A worn sundial mounted in the gable of the south porch. | Taken 31/07/24
One of the allegedly Saxon monolithic window openings in the tower. | Taken 31/07/24
The tower from the west, with its almost defensively small openings. | Taken 31/07/24
The lovely suspended lamp surmounting the little gates to the churchyard. | Taken 31/07/24
An angelic addition to Captain Claude and Dorothy Robinson's gravestone. I must confess that the style tricked me into thinking it was C18, when it in fact only dates from 1950. | Taken 31/07/24
The WW2 gravestone of Pilot Officer David Jenkins. The son of Bagendon's 1917-19 rector, he was shot down over Kenley during the Battle of Britain aged only 21. | Taken 31/07/24