The church at Lacock has Norman origins (Saxon at a stretch), and whilst nothing from this time remains within the present building, the church's 12th century provenance can still be felt through its dedication to St. Cyriac. St. Cyriac, alternatively Cyricus, Quiricus, Ciricius, Ciricus, or Cyr (and not to be confused with St. Cyriacus!), was an early martyr, being killed along with his mother Julitta in the year 304 during Diocletian's persecution of Christians in the Roman Empire. Aged only three, he is said to have slapped Governor Alexander of Tarsus after he demanded that Julitta renounce her faith, saying 'I am a Christian too!' This did not work in his favour, and the Governor threw Cyriac down the steps in a fit of rage and broke his skull on the floor. The young saint has since been venerated widely, particularly in the Eastern Orthodox and Coptic churches, which is what makes Lacock's dedication so unusual. The Norman connection is found in the fact that St. Cyriac also had a strong cult in France, birthplace of William of Eu, local landowner in the late 11th century and co-founder of St. Cyriac's church here in the village.

The oldest parts of the present church date from the early 14th century, with the north transept and its window's Decorated tracery certainly being of this era, and the tower possibly having its origins at this time as well. However, what with Lacock being located along the sheep droving route from Bath to London, it became a prosperous settlement during the height of the English wool trade in the 15th century, and as such, its church was given a drastic overhaul in a fashionable Perpendicular style. The building's present plan and the overwhelming majority of its fabric date from this century, including the west porch (admittedly very late in the century), the nave and aisles, the majority of the tower and spire, and the sumptuous Lady Chapel of c.1430 at the northeast, originally built for the Bonham and Croke families. Also dating from this time is the highly unusual feature of a 'Cotswold Window' located at clerestory level above the chancel arch (see the Treasures segment on it below).

The 16th century's main calling card in the church is the lavish painting of the Lady Chapel, which, though much deteriorated, mostly survives to the present day. The 17th century involved a relatively large amount of building work, with the octagonal spire being rebuilt in 1604, and later in that same century, an unusual annex was built onto the south face of the church known as 'The Church Cottage,' comprising two storeys and an attic. The rooms came into use as a Sunday school, and the space is now used as a vestry and meeting rooms after being adapted in the 20th century. In 1617, the roof of the south aisle was replaced, but three corbels of the 14th and 15th centuries remain in the walls at the height of the original roof. The 18th century, whilst not a period where much care was given to our medieval churches, saw the 1777 rebuilding of the chancel, before this rebuilding was itself drastically overhauled in 1902-3 by Sir Harold Brakspear as a memorial to William Henry Fox Talbot of Lacock Abbey, scientist and inventor who pioneered early forms of photography.

The 1861 restoration by Arthur Blomfield was, thankfully, not so heavy-handed as some others. Blomfield's name attached to a church restoration often makes me breathe a sigh of relief, but as with all Victorian architects, he can be prone to dashing my hope against the rocks. This is gratifyingly not overwhelmingly the case at Lacock, and the raising of the north transept roof, the rebuilding of the south transept, and the uncovering of the high crossing arches are all kind, even welcome changes. The reordering is very heavy on pews, however, and makes the church less navigable and less open, in disagreement with the Perpendicular architecture which focuses on light and space. One intriguing feature which Blomfield did remove, however, were the 'singing galleries,' these being three individual gallery layers which were presumably installed sometime during the 18th century.

The information here has been taken variously from the church guide (booklet available from the church for the fairly steep sum of £5, but it is a tourist area after all), the church's information boards, and the Historic England listing. 

Lacock, whilst a village almost unparalleled in its beauty, is not a peaceful place by any means. The tourism is constant, the vehicular traffic through the narrow streets all too high, and at least one of the ancient buildings is likely to be undergoing conservation work at any one time. In my case, it was the late 18th century 9 Church Street which was unfortunate enough to be hemmed in by blaring heavy machinery at the time, and its proximity to St. Cyriac's, which itself was significantly scaffolded, meant that despite the truly excellent historic setting of the church, it hardly felt like an escape from the modern world. Nevertheless, entering through the west porch and narthex underneath the tower has the effect of entirely shutting out the world outside and confining reality to the centuries-old walls within which you stand.

The church is pleasantly light, as many churches of the 15th century are, with the clerestory windows joining force with the additional Cotswold window and clear aisle windows to bathe the church in natural light and makes the space feel open and airy, despite the floorspace being crowded with Victorian pews. The Lady Chapel with its dark and elaborate painted decoration feels a world apart from the whitewashed walls of the remainder of the church, but is still well lit. This is a space I would describe as refreshing, where one can cut out the noise and crowds of the outside world and spend some time in the presence of the work of ancient hands.

Despite the furniture of the 19th century onwards being quietly unattractive, the church is quick to reveal its major points of interest and allows for efficient viewing, but why not stay a little longer? Why rush from this hallowed, lucent space? Perhaps the best feature of St. Cyriac's is not its treasures, but its calming ambience and soothingly light interior, all thanks to the kind hands of those 15th century architects and masons.

The Baynard name is a stalwart one in the annals of local history. Ten successive generations of the family owned the Lackham estate nearby, and many memorials to their clan lie within the church. I am, predictably, primarily interested in the early 16th century monumental brass to Robert and Elizabeth (née Ludlow) Baynard which is located set into the floor of the south transept, also known as the Lackham aisle due to its function as a burial place for the Lords of Lackham. The brass is sandwiched tightly between the pews, and is understandably cordoned off to prevent it being stepped on, but this unfortunately makes photography and visual appreciation very difficult indeed.

Dating from 1501, the brass contains 7 individual units, comprising the central figures of Robert and Elizabeth joined by the inscription beneath, four shields at the corners of the stone, and two groups depicting their 18 (!) children, divided by gender. Brasses of this period often suffer from being ill-proportioned and clumsy, but this is certainly not the case for the central couple, both of whom are handsomely engraved and in excellent condition, perhaps indicating that the memorial was not produced by a lowly, local artist. The figures of their horde of children are more cartoonish, and frustratingly the slab is situated such that these poorer quality small figures are able to be viewed clearly while the fine figures of their parents are not.

This relatively poorly angled shot of the couple is the best I could manage. Robert's armour proudly displays his family crest, and the care put into this engraving can best be seen through the painstaking depiction of chainmail. He is pictured standing with grass at his feet rather than recumbent, which is a much more commonly adopted position on brasses of this time, but seems especially cruel to his dogs! The quality of Elizabeth's dress is outstanding, being patterned with what I assume to be her family's crest, which is only subtly different to that of her husband. The glare from the light from the south window is something of an annoyance, and is worsened by the all too deeply blue Victorian stained glass. | Taken 17/07/24

It is sometimes hard to imagine that our medieval churches were once riots of colour. Centuries of vandalism, neglect, and (perhaps overlapping with the previous two) whitewash have robbed us of much of this polychromatic artistic heritage, and the Lady Chapel of St. Cyriac's is one of the most evocative in aiding the imagination when it comes to reapplying that colour in our mind's eye. The chapel was richly painted in the 16th century when it came to house the tomb of Sir William Sharington. Sculptures, vaults, and walls alike were all lavishly decorated with bright colours, and although these colours are much faded and in a shabby state, the visual effect in contrast to the usual sight of scraped bare stone walls or plain whitewash is still phenomenal. Rich azurite and vermillion hues persist, with intricately carved bosses, corbels, and canopies adding to the illustrious display of worldly and spiritual wealth.

While today the chapel is more or less a continuation of the north aisle, it was once a far more private and exclusive space, being separated from the north aisle with a western wall containing a doorway. This was removed in 1867, and this work appears to have been carried out roughly and hastily, as the westernmost pillars of the chapel where it joins the north aisle are utterly mutilated, having been hacked at to remove this wall and the damage never tidied up. Such spoilage is very often found in Lady Chapels, but most often dates to the Reformation when sculptures and icons from these exuberant spaces were brutally destroyed, leaving wounds in the fabric of the building. Trust the Victorians to add to the plight of the Lady Chapel!

A closer look at the central recess of the tomb, showing that the inscription is well and truly vanished. Visible in the spandrels of the arch are the initials W.S., set inside red roses. | Taken 17/07/24

St. Cyriac's boasts a unique and locally concentrated feature of a 15th century clerestory window situated directly above the chancel arch. This feature is unique to wool churches in the area (that is, churches whose 15th century remodelling was funded as a result of prosperity deriving from the wool trade), and is sometimes given the name of a Cotswold window, or a wool window. The feature can also be found in the wool churches of Cirencester, Northleach, and Chipping Campden, all in neighbouring Gloucestershire.

Lacock's example is of a most elegant sort, with simple yet refined tracery, and is decorated with carved stone angels on the inside upper rim, while the exterior is crowned with a delicate pierced parapet. The aesthetic effect of the window is incredibly positive, and serves to help flood the church with light from above.

This shot of the east end taken from the orchard of Lacock Abbey shows the rich decoration of the pierced parapet above the window. | Taken 17/07/24