The present church as seen today is remarkably different to how it would have appeared at the time of its consecration, which can be dated to 1137. The original church would have been in a Norman Romanesque style, with scant survivals from this period including the easternmost rounded arches (now filled in) of the chancel and the west doorway with its Agnus Dei tympanum, almost all of which is actually a 19th century reconstruction. However, the most significant Norman survival is that of the crypt, which rather unusually extends beneath the entire building rather than only a portion. Admittedly, the only Norman work to survive down here are a few blocked off arches which are now in the inaccessible portion of the crypt underneath the south aisle, but the presence of it has provided an excellent foundation for the church, both in a literal, structural sense, and in the folk memory of the city, being the idiosyncratic feature which gives the church its name. In fact, the church has had many names throughout its history, including The Church of the Blessed Mary within Southgate, but the fact that this was the only one of Gloucester's medieval parish churches to boast a crypt led to the adoption of the catchier and less cumbersome St. Mary de Crypt.

Many changes have been made to the structure since, which, excepting the 13th century lancet windows in the south choir aisle, mostly date to the 14th and 15th centuries. The main west window and its accompanying aisle west windows date from the late 14th century, as do those in each transept and the south chapel's east window. The south porch, with its second storey priest's room and projecting octagonal stair turret, also dates from this century, as does the central tower, which was originally crowned with a crenellated parapet and pinnacles. Also rebuilt around this time were the nave and chancel arcades, with the chancel gaining its clerestory early in the 15th century.

The later 15th century saw a drastic and grand remodelling of the church under the supervision of Henry Dene, the incumbent prior at the nearby Augustinian Llanthony Secunda Priory. Henry Dene was a prominent figure within the English church, rising from his post here in Gloucester to become Bishop of Bangor, then Bishop of Salisbury, and eventually Archbishop of Canterbury, being the last monastic ever to hold the post. As archbishop, Dene successfully negotiated the 1502 Treaty of Perpetual Peace between England and Scotland (a tad optimistic if  you ask me) and officiated the marriage of Catherine of Aragon to Arthur, Prince of Wales (the ill-fated brother of Henry VIII), before being buried in Canterbury Cathedral. Dene undertook his work at St. Mary de Crypt between 1461 and 1490, rebuilding the nave and chancel and transforming the church into a Perpendicular Gothic gem, complete with a fantastically enriched east end including an exceptionally tall east window, wall paintings, sedilia, and a new roof with bosses.

After the Reformation, the church's north aisle and nave portion of the crypt came into use as an inn by 1576, and suffered further ignominity when repurposed in 1643 as a magazine used to store the Parliamentarian army's gunpowder during the Civil War and until 1842 was being used as a warehouse. It is during this period between the Reformation and the Victorian Restoration that the majority of the church's most famous sons came onto the scene. The foremost of these was the Methodist preacher George Whitefield; a key figure in the evangelical movement during the 18th century, Whitefield was born in Gloucester in 1714 and on the 27th of June 1736 preached his first sermon here in St. Mary de Crypt. He is not an uncontroversial figure, and is one I will happily condemn; whilst being one of the first to preach to enslaved Africans, he was himself a slaveholder and plantation owner and zealously advocated for slavery to be reintroduced to the state of Georgia to boost the economy, an effort which succeeded. Perhaps seeing slaves as human yet continuing to keep them in bondage is even worse.

The second of these key figures was Robert Raikes, one of the foremost promoters of Sunday Schools. Raikes, born in 1735 and baptised at the church, operated his publishing business from the house across the road (now a pub named Robert Raikes' House) and used his paper, the Gloucester Journal, to publicise the idea of Sunday Schools being employed as a device through which good values may be installed and vice prevented. The family vault is located at St. Mary de Crypt, and the south choir aisle was reordered in 1930 as a memorial to him. The final of these notable figures was James "Jemmy" Wood, the notorious Gloucester Miser. Born in 1756, Wood inherited the Gloucester Old Bank from his grandfather, the private bank being one of the most steadfast and successful in the country. Wood was notoriously and excessively frugal and parsimonious, refusing to offer interest on deposits of under one year and, despite acting as Sheriff and Alderman, never once appears on lists of city benefactors. Upon his death, he left the sum of £900,000 (which would today be £87 million), making him the richest commoner in the entire Empire. Wood was buried here at St. Mary de Crypt, and, allegedly, the crowd at his funeral were rather jovial and pelted his coffin with stones. Does any of this sound familiar? Well, in 1843, a certain Mr Charles Dickens took up the pen and wrote one of the most enduring tales of all time, A Christmas Carol, featuring the iconic and infamous Ebenezer Scrooge, whose miserly ways are said to have been based on tales of Jemmy Wood.

Back to the building, then! Other than the continuous reuse of the crypt, little work was done to the church's structure after Dene's remodelling, until, of course, the Victorians felt the need to stick their noses in. The church was restored several times, including S. W. Daukes and J. R. Hamilton's primary restoration of 1844-45, but also in 1866, 1876, 1903, and 1908. The first restoration saw the raising of the sanctuary floor and reinstallation of the medieval stone mensa which had recently been rediscovered, and many memorials were removed from the choir and placed in the aisle chapels either side. Additionally, the pews were all replaced (possibly reusing the wood from the old ones), and the north and south galleries were removed, with the west following in 1875. The 1908 restoration saw the parapet and pinnacles removed from the tower on safety grounds, leaving it looking rather bald. I am not sure in which restoration this occurred, but the recutting of the west doorway and its tympanum was not the most tasteful of the alterations, leaving the church bereft of any significant Norman work. (As a side note, the nearby church of St. Nicholas has a far better preserved Agnus Dei tympanum.) Despite this, the restorations in general were not overly heavy handed, and contribute to a fantastic space today, enhanced by a 2-year long restoration project of the church and schoolroom which was completed in 2019.

The information here has been taken variously from the church guide (leaflet available from the church), the church website, and the Historic England listing. 

Gloucester is an ancient city, with a remarkable heritage from just about every era of British history since records began. However, due to the devastating impact of short-sighted city planners in the post-war period (in this case including the notorious Jellicoe Plan), Gloucester has a tragically broken historic core, the urban fabric being totally overhauled by 1960s bulldozers and concrete. Remarkably notable losses include the Old Bell Hotel, St. Mary's Square, Westgate Bridge, and the city's very first Sunday School. Nevertheless, I love this poor old city with my whole heart, and there is a certain light to be found in discovering its remaining slivers of glory. Having said all this, the setting of St. Mary de Crypt is by far not the worst in the city, with Greyfriars, Addison's Folly, and the Robert Raikes' House being among the historic buildings to complement the church and adjoining schoolroom, partly mitigating the damage done by the utterly hideous Eastgate Shopping Centre which dominates the entire northeast of the environs. The various aspects of the church are additionally excellent, with total circumnavigation of the church possible due to it being surrounded by pedestrianised areas, although the width of the west front is difficult to balance with the height of the east end and tower when photographing it.

The church can be entered either through the west door (which has a modern inner portal) or south porch, with the west door being the more natural approach. The proportions of the church will immediately strike any visitor, having been described as 'a cathedral in miniature,' with a choir taller than the nave. The open aisles and continuous roof give the nave a hall-like feel, and open up the congregation's area of the church, while the opposite is true of the business end, with parclose screens separating each choir aisle from their nave counterparts, and this partitioning funnelling the focus of sight directly towards the lofty and impressive chancel. Despite this clear demarcation of space within the building, the entire church feels harmonious and unified in its spatial enclosure.

There is lots to see inside the church, and a fantastic team of volunteers who are present during the church's opening hours to answer any questions. Make sure that you see everything though, as the open and circuitous plan of the church can make it easy to gloss over certain parts.

Too much of the time do we reduce a church's substance to the stones which make up its walls, and forget that a rebuilding of a portion necessitates not only new bricks and mortar, but new decoration too. As such, when considering Henry Dene's remodelling of the east end of the church in the late 15th century, the lavish decoration must too be taken into account as an intrinsic part of this renewal, much more than just the icing on the cake. New windows meant new glass, new roofs meant new ceilings, and new walls meant new paintings. It is easy to forget about all of these decorative additions, as centuries of iconoclasm, mistreatment, and simple decay have banished so many of them to a corner of the past only accessible via imagination, but occasionally there are bridges between our world and theirs, such as here at St. Mary de Crypt.

This particular example is located inside an arch on the north wall of the chancel, and consists of a much faded, yet interpretable wall painting depicting the Adoration of the Magi. This dates from the early 16th century and as such is virtually contemporary with the brand new east end. Painted over by reformers soon after its creation, this scene was uncovered along with numerous other fragments in 1842, and is the only survivor whose subject is identifiable. It takes a fair amount of time and a generous pinch of imagination to understand the scene as is intended, but all of the Three Kings can be made out (Balthasar on the far left in a green gown, Caspar kneeling to the right of him in a red gown, and Melchior standing above Caspar) as well as Mary and the Baby Jesus in the centre. Joseph in his black cap can be made out just behind and to the right of them, while figures in contemporary dress (with the painting, that is) look on from above. The poor old painting is a shadow of its former self, but scrutiny of the image is rewarded by the uncovering of a delightful scene.

The whole Adoration scene. The window is contemporary and so the composition of the painting is modelled around it rather than it having obliterated some detail via its insertion. | Taken 13/09/24

Henry Dene's remodellings were comprehensive, and included a remarkable new set of ecclesiastical furniture in the chancel of the church, carved in the most delicate filigree stonework. On the south side is a wonderful triple sedilia, designed as seating for the priest, deacon, and sub-deacon, along with a slightly more restrained piscina. The north side bears an absolutely excellent survival, that being an Easter Sepulchre. This is a uniquely English/Welsh feature, owing from the use of the Sarum Rite from the late 11th century until the Reformation, and was used for many symbolic purposes during Easter ceremonies. The vast majority fell foul of iconoclasts during the Reformation, so it is something of a privilege to have a surviving example, especially one so richly ornamented. To the left of the Easter Sepulchre is the singularly bizarre addition of another sedile, facing the triple sedilia on the opposite wall, and it is said that Henry Dene had this one built for his own use.

A closer look at the remarkable decoration above the recess of the Easter Sepulchre. The stonework of the niche canopies is astoundingly detailed and delicate, with alternating angels and foliated pinnacles. The ghostly painted figures in the niches remind us that what we see today wouldn't even have been the full extent of the splendour on display. | Taken 13/09/24

The tradition of brass memorials is not a particularly strong one in this part of the country, being more localised to East Anglia and the Home Counties, but this trend is not without its notable exceptions and this is surely one of them. Now remounted in a new slab and affixed to the north aisle wall is the city's finest brass, commemorating John (d. 1529) and Joan (d.1544) Cooke, local benefactors. John was a wealthy mercer, brewer, and alderman, as well as four times mayor. Joan (née Massinger) founded the Crypt School in 1539 after John had stipulated in his will that a grammar school should be founded with the money she inherited, with a new schoolroom being built onto the northwest of the church. The schoolroom is a significant survival for its date, and is now a cafe and community space, with the Crypt School still existing today, having moved to larger premises in 1889 and again in 1943.

The brass has been restored over its lifetime, the surviving parts of the original monument being remounted on a new slab on the north aisle wall in 1923 by the Old Cryptians' Club with a new inscription. The surviving composition consists of two moderately sized figures of John and Joan, both facing inwards and under a finely detailed canopy, which presumably would have continued down with shafts on either side of the couple. The crowning glory of the monument is the large canopied figure of St. John the Baptist between them at the top; this is probably the finest depiction of St. John the Baptist on any surviving brass, complete with a patterned background and a small lamb and flag.