Location (Welsh): Llandeilo Gresynni, Sir Fynwy
Location (English): Llantilio Crossenny, Monmouthshire
Dedication: St. Teilo
Denomination: Church in Wales
Features of Interest: Locally styled C17 memorials, unusual layout
Useful External Links:
Cadw Listing (Grade I)
The church viewed form the northwest, with the west porch and crossing tower visible. | Taken 14/08/24
Llantilio Crossenny is hardly a well known name in any circle, but its church is certainly not one to be missed in the local area. Any section of the Welsh Marches will invariably have a wealth of history attached, and Llantilio Crossenny is certainly no exception, with everything from conflicts between Celtic Kings and Saxon marauders to the exploits of drunken vicars to the distinctive skills of local craftspeople shaping the story of the church here.
The church's ancient origins can be traced back to the mid-6th century, when Saxon raids threatened the area. The local Welsh King Iddon sought help from Teilo, a holy man staying in nearby Llanarth, and asked him to pray for their victory against the Saxons. In response, Teilo raised a cross upon the site, a mound which had formerly been a pre-Christian religious site, and either through the power of the Lord or the power of coincidence, the Saxon raiders were repelled. In return for this spiritual aid, Iddon granted the site of the raised cross to Teilo to build a church, with the name of the village today comprising Llandeilo (The Holy Place of St. Teilo) and Crossenny (a corruption of Iddon's Cross). As for Teilo himself, he later rose to become Bishop of Llandaff, and was venerated as a saint. Later in the 13th century, the bishops of Llandaff built a manor house at nearby Hen Gwrt. This connection to the Llandaff diocese in addition to the presence of the nearby White Castle (Y Castell Gwyn) can provide an explanation for the church's current large-scale plan.
Teilo's original church was likely a humble wooden construction, nothing of which remains today. The earliest fabric of the present building dates to the late 12th century, including the rather grand 60-foot-high Early English Gothic central tower (whose style would be more at home in Northern Germany) and its supporting crossing, and the south transept, whose north equivalent presumably once matched. Two lancet windows from this period also survive at the western end of each nave aisle, confirming that these aisles belonged to the original nave. Thus, the floorplan of the original church is for the most part what is seen today, with the exception of the chancel, north transept, and west porch.
The church was extensively remodelled in various stages throughout the 14th century. Firstly, the chancel was rebuilt deflecting slightly to the south, with the present east window dating from this time, and the north transept entirely overhauled and enlarged eastwards to form a Lady Chapel. Following this work, the central nave was rebuilt in a Perpendicular Gothic style, and, probably continuing into the next century, the nave arcade pillars replaced and the clerestory level added. The Lady Chapel's east window also seems to have been replaced in the 15th century.
In the 17th century, the Lady Chapel was commandeered by the owners of the local manor house, known as Cil-Llwch (anglicised to Killough and meaning 'dusty retreat'). The chapel became a mausoleum for the manor house owners between 1697 and 1835, and as such became known as the Cil-Llwch Chapel. Soon afterwards from 1708-09, the wonderful shingled splay-foot spire was built, raising the height of the building to some 110 feet. The bell chamber was also strengthened at this time to take six new bells, cast in 1709 by Abraham Rudhall of Gloucester and recast into eight bells in 1978 by the Whitechapel Bell Foundry in London.
In 1857, the church was restored by John Prichard and John Pollard Seddon, architects to the diocese of Llandaff and who carried out the idiosyncratic restoration at nearby Grosmont. Many of the window openings were rebuilt, with the aisle windows all being from this restoration (though their differing styles may imply some kind of continuity with the design of original medieval windows formely located there). Also replaced were the main south transept window, the inner west doorway, and the majority of the church's woodwork, including doors and pews. A protruding chimney was also added to the Cil-Llwch Chapel in the 19th century. As far as 19th century restorations go, this one seems largely inoffensive, and whilst lending the inside a slightly stuffy, Victorianised feel, the historic fabric of the church seems to have been treated well for the most part.
The information here has been taken variously from the church guide (booklet available from the church), the church website, and the Cadw listing.
Llantilio Crossenny truly is located in the middle of nowhere, occupying a small corner of land between the Wye Valley and the Black Mountains. The scenery is not objectionable by any means, but as the midpoint between two stunningly beautiful areas, the environs of the village are an overlooked spot. The village itself is tucked nicely away from the main road, but the isolated houses do not form any kind of unified ensemble. The church is situated proudly upon a prominent mound at the northernmost end of the village, and as a side note has a particularly convenient car park! The building is remarkably prominent, yet still humble and characterful. The churchyard is exceptionally well kept, with many of the headstones having been arranged in a row around the border of the premises.
Entering the church through the west porch, which is unusually situated but works well with the building's dimensions, is to enter a light space which feels simultaneously exalted and homely. The clerestoried nave and whitewashed walls remove a sense of heaviness which the church would otherwise have, and which is still present in the remainder of the building. The unusually high and thin nave proportions are reminiscent of Saxon architecture, though of course having absolutely nothing to do with it. The chancel is a totally different world, with the murkiness of the crossing transfiguring the space into a darker and more powerful setting, with the scraped rubble walls and ledger stones providing sanctity, but also coldness. The Cil-Llwch Chapel is again a totally different space, with the carpeted floor detracting from both of these ends of the spectrum and instead providing a stuffy, yet well used feel.
The church is navigable and the primary points of interest are all easily visible and accessible. There is much to take in, both from the interior and exterior of the building, and the peace of the church's setting is certainly to be savoured.
Llantilio Crossenny's church is not particularly abounding in 'treasures' per se, and is instead to be commended for its eccentric proportions and layout. However, there are of course items of interest not to be missed, and in this church's case, they come in the form of incised grave slabs inlaid in the chancel floor. Two of these show effigial figures and as such are of singular interest to me, but there are several others complete with patterns and heraldry which make the entire ensemble especially attractive.
One would think that the Cil-Llwch Chapel with its manorial patronage would contain the church's most fascinating memorials, but it is in fact set into the floor of the chancel where the oldest and most wonderful tombs are to be found. Several of the ledger stones date from the 17th century and are incised with a variety of endearingly rustic relief designs. The most fascinating are two showing incised effigies, and a third, which I very unfortunately managed to miss, commemorates vicar Owen Rogers (d.1660), with his slab showing three candles and ten angels. It is a shame that I overlooked this one, as Rogers seems an interesting character too, being deprived of his living in 1654 due to 'drunkenness and malignancy,' not the most exemplary charactaristics for a vicar to be displaying!
Nevertheless, the first of the effigial slabs commemorates Jane and John Walderne, who both died in 1620. The rudimentary inscription of the family name at the top only survives in part, but their identity has been confirmed from the parish registers, with John being a distant cousin of the diarist Walter Powell. The slab depicts Jane and John standing in prayer side by side, dressed in fine Stuart costume. They are separated by a floriated cross and stand on shields with psalters atop their heads. This strange placement would surely be more befitting of a recumbent effigy, but the foot position is rather intent on showing them as standing. Of course, it is difficult to represent recumbency in 2D, and we are talking about a craftsperson operating on a distinctly local scale here, so some allowances must be made. Below the couple are depicted their three sons, Mark, David, and Charles, the final two names of whom just barely survive inscribed below.
The Walderne slab in full; if only I had thought to move the stool casting the shadow over Jane! | Taken 14/08/24
A close up of the cross head separating the couple. Whilst distinctly uneven, it is a lovely piece of work.| Taken 14/08/24
A closer look at John, a handsome chap whose stylised Stuart dress appears rather Space Age. I wouldn't want to go up against him in a thumb war either! | Taken 14/08/24
A closer look at Jane, whose pursed lips remind me of Aardman's Piella Bakewell. Her stylised ruff is sharp in both a fashionable and literal sense. | Taken 14/08/24
The Walderne sons, all of whom appear to have visited the same barbershop. | Taken 14/08/24
David Walderne's name just barely visible inscribed at the base of the stone. | Taken 14/08/24
The remaining effigial slab has absolutely no surviving inscription to speak of, and as such the identity of the person commemorated is unknown to me. This effigy is much larger than those of the Waldernes, occupying the entire slab, and appears to be by the same sculptor (check out those thumbs!), so can reliably be dated to the early 17th century. The man depicted is dressed in incredibly fine Stuart attire, with a lovely stylised ruff, breeches, and over-gown. He lies recumbent (or alternatively en pointe!) with his head on a tassled pillow. I am a huge fan of the style of engraving employed here and in the wider area; whilst undeniably rustic in identity, the character imbued into every mark of the chisel provides an excellent sense of connection with the makers and mourners of 400 years ago.
The unknown effigy in full, showing the extent of the flamboyance of his period dress. | Taken 14/08/24
A closer look at the figure's upper half. The beard is fantastic, though I am not convinced it isn't just a disguise! | Taken 14/08/24
A selection of additional patterned grave slabs in the chancel floor, plus a wider shot showing the full ensemble crammed in between the stalls. | Taken 14/08/24
The exterior from the northwest, showing the rather ambitious plan for a rural Marches church. | Taken 14/08/24
An alternative shot from the south, taken about 20 minutes later, showing how fickle UK weather can be! | Taken 14/08/24
The interior facing west, showing the slender C14 nave arcades and accompanying clerestory windows, including the elegant two-light west window high above the C19 replacement west doorway. | Taken 14/08/24
The interior facing east, with the squat crossing arch contrasting greatly with the high nave arcade. The floating door above formerly allowed access from the now vanished rood loft into the ringing chamber. | Taken 14/08/24
Peering through a world of gloom in the crossing to the light interior of the clerestoried nave. | Taken 14/08/24
The organ, hulking inside the south transept, dates from 1887 and was built by W. G. Vowles of Bristol. | Taken 14/08/24
The chancel, with omnipresent whitewash being replaced by scraped rubble and dubious repointing work. | Taken 14/08/24
The timbers of the chancel roof appear ancient (potentially C14) and transform the pitched roof into a gentler barrel vault. | Taken 14/08/24
The chancel's piscina dates to the C14 and sports a lovely and unusual foliated finial. | Taken 14/08/24
This reading desk in the chancel is probably only C19, but is pretty nonetheless. | Taken 14/08/24
A remarkable tapestry of blooked doors on the chancel's south wall, demonstrating what fascinating palimpsests medieval churches can be. It is possible that the central blocked door led through the upper blocked door into a room supported on the corbel table and lit by the top left window. This room may have acted as a watching chamber, to ensure that pilgrims visiting the site in order to venerate St. Teilo behaved themselves. | Taken 14/08/24
The interior of the Cil-Llwch chapel facing northeast. The furnishings and carpeting are rather ignominious in their shed-like mundanity, and contrast greatly with the carefully crafted wall tablets. The exception to this rule is the moulded altar rail with its bulbous balusters, which dates to the late C17. Additionally, the pitch of the chapel's roof feels exceptionally low, at least when compared with the unusually lofty nave area. | Taken 14/08/24
The glass of the Cil-Llwch Chapel's east window is masterful work by the renowned Victorian designer Charles Eamer Kempe. | Taken 14/08/24
This rather shocked looking green man carving on the south wall of the Cil-Llwch Chapel possibly dates to the C13. | Taken 14/08/24
These two corbels beneath the east window of the Cil-Llwch Chapel can be dated to the early 14th century based upon their hairstyle and are as such contemporary with the chapel itself. Formerly supporting statuettes or candles, they are said to represent King Edward II, who may have been ruling at the time of the chapel's dedication. | Taken 14/08/24
The Cil-Llwch Chapel is entered through this oddly placed arch which is partly blocked by the chancel wall. | Taken 14/08/24
One of 2 squints at the eastern end of the chapel allowing for a view of the chancel's altar. | Taken 14/08/24
This shallow arch forms part of a 3-bay arcade which pierces the chancel's north wall, allowing a view into the Cil-Llwch Chapel in addition to the 2 squints. The C19 parclose railings keep the spaces separated. | Taken 14/08/24
This tremendous parish chest (which definitely predates 1538 when registration of births, deaths, and marriages was made compulsory) lies within the porch and is made up of oak planks which are over 3m long. | Taken 14/08/24
This fascinating looking grave slab resting against the wall inside the porch is something of a curiosity, especially as it is not mentioned in any source I can find. I am no expert, but the floriated cross design is certainly an early medieval one (C13?) and rather elaborate, and has obviously been recycled at some point. | Taken 14/08/24
The font, whilst a plain and prosaic affair, is in fact likely ancient, possibly dating all the way back to the Saxon church, although it is just as likely that it is (merely!) Norman. It was installed here at the western end of the north aisle after having been unearthed in the churchyard in the early C19. | Taken 14/08/24
This odd stone bowl is tucked away at the east end of the Cil-Llwch Chapel and looks distinctly font like; perhaps this was the one in use before the C19? | Taken 14/08/24
Another unexplained piece of masonry, this time lying around inside the porch. I wouldn't be surprised if this formerly formed part of the base of the churchyard cross. | Taken 14/08/24
The exterior of the C15 east window of the Cil-Llwch Chapel, executed in a gorgeous red stone which is complemented by the red sandstone rubble of the remainder of the building. | Taken 14/08/24
The church's western silhouette is an unusual one for a village church owing to its ambitious clerestory and spire, but it remains rather idiosyncratic and effective | Taken 14/08/24
The orignal medieval churchyard cross was dismantled due to safety concerns and replaced by a modern wooden one, with only the base remaining as a war memorial. | Taken 14/08/24
This gateway now leading into the extended churchyard formerly gave access to the gardens of the C18 Llantilio Court, which was demolished in 1922. | Taken 14/08/24