The church's origins can be traced to the early 13th century, around the time that the nearby castle was remodelled by Hubert de Burgh, the Earl of Kent. In fact, the majority of the modern church's fabric dates to this time, including the nave and chancel, seeing little alteration to its general plan over its long history. Like many churches in the Welsh Marches, defence was a secondarily desirable characteristic, and the squat, square tower with its 1.5m thick, sandstone walls (also of the early 13th century) certainly seems to have been built with the idea of keeping away the marauding Welsh in mind! (Well, the church now lies within the borders of Wales, so joke's on the English I guess.) The distinctive wooden 'dovecote' belfry is also a strong local characteristic.

The aisles of the church were added sometime between the 13th and 15th centuries, possibly replacing extant aisles, and the south porch was probably added towards the later end of this period. Many of the windows of the church date from the mid-13th century onwards, being substantially in Decorated or Perpendicular Gothic styles. The church underwent repair and restoration in the late 17th century, including the replacement of the south aisle roof timbers in 1663, as well as this probably being the time at which the enormous buttress supporting the west face of the tower was added, and it was customarily restored again in the Victorian period by E. G. Davies in 1896. Davies appears to have been thankfully sympathetic, doing little more than replacing the nave and chancel roofs and probably being the one to add the small vestry to the south of the chancel. The building received a third and final restoration in 1909-10 by William Weir, who replaced the pews and choir stalls, working in conjunction with the Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings. As a result, the church is substantially ancient and has managed to escape the stuffiness and tastelessness of later alterations and 'corrections,' making the building one of the finest examples of a truly medieval Marches church.

The information here has been mainly taken from the Cadw listing, with the church having run out of guide leaflets when I visited (so apologies for the somewhat scant information and frequent guesswork!).

The setting of Skenfrith's church is enviable; few churches can boast quite as idyllic a setting. The foreboding ruins of the castle lie adjacent, but their power is muted by time whilst still retaining the presence to rule over the village aesthetically. The church is totally congruent with the castle, being built of the same reddish sandstone and the two complement each other perfectly as a slice of medieval life set within the hills and streams of the Welsh Marches.

The squat church is entered through the equally squat south porch, and immediately one can feel the age and wisdom of these stones. The flagstone floors with their creeping, thin layers of algae, and the well weathered stonework breathe a thousand tales of lives begun and ended within these walls, and the palimpsest legacies of the centuries vie for space aesthetically as well as atmospherically. The restoration of the church does not perfectly adhere to this feeling of ancient sanctity, but it is of a nature where one is willing to accept it as another chapter in the building's history rather than as something which detracts from a feeling whose potential is not maximised like in so many other cases.

The plan of the church is simple and easily navigable; you would be hard pressed not to be immediately drawn to every feature of interest within the church. Whilst it is quite dark and quite cold, the church invites reflection and lingering.

The church has only one notable memorial within its walls, but what a memorial it is. The tomb in question, located at the eastern end of the north aisle, commemorates John Morgan (d.1557) and his wife Anne (née Cecil, d.1564), and consists of two large effigies of the couple carved in shallow relief on a ledger slab resting on top of a table tomb decorated on all sides with weepers and heraldry. This distinctive local flavour of relief carving is also to be found at nearby Grosmont and Llantilio Crossenny.

Morgan acted as Steward of the Duchy of Lancaster (whatever that might mean - the 16th century equivalent of corporate jargon job titles if you ask me!) and was the last governor of the Three Castles, those being Grosmont Castle (Castell Grysmwnt), White Castle (Y Castell Gwyn), and of course Skenfrith Castle (Castell Ynysgynwraidd), which together formed a lordship dating back to the time of King Stephen. By Morgan's time, the castles had not been in any defensive use for many decades and were beginning to become dilapidated and the governorship becoming redundant. Still, Morgan was a man of substantial local influence and prominence, serving as MP for the Monmouthshire Boroughs from 1553 to 1554.

The effigies themselves are recumbent, showing John richly dressed in a stately cap and robe, sporting some marvellous and learned looking facial hair, with Anne equally finely clothed with her dress complete with its farthingale, stomacher, puffed sleeves, and lace ruff. Anne is shown to be in prayer, but John has his hands clasped comfortably at his waist, holding an object which I cannot identify. The ledger stone has an inscription running around its border which is unusually in Latin; by this date, English was the more commonly utilised language unless commemorating a member of the clergy. The weepers on the south side of the tomb show the couple's four sons kneeling prayerfully separated by rustic Ionic columns. The north side is nearest the wall and is more difficult to access and shows four women (evidently not as important, apparently!) in a similar composition. It is not known whether these four figures are meant to represent specific people, as the couple do not appear to have had daughters, but they may represent the wives of the four sons on the front. The arms of the Morgan family are located at the head end of the tomb, while the Cecil family arms are displayed at the bottom.

Skenfrith is lucky enough to sport two excellent examples of carved box pews, both of which display excellent examples of patterned panel carving of the late 16th/early 17th centuries. The first example is located ex situ at the eastern end of the south aisle and possibly dates from as early as 1564. This was a minstrels' pew, home to those who provided music for the church services before being replaced by the more recent organ and early 20th century choir stalls. It comprises eight panels of two tiers; the bottom tier is plain, but the panels on the upper tier are decorated with a wonderful display of scrollwork and rosettes in an unusual quadripartite configuration.

Possibly Skenfrith's greatest survival is that of a magnificently embroidered cope dating to the late 15th century. Whilst not necessarily a treasure which lies within my primary fields of interest, even I have to admit that it is remarkable and a feast for the eyes. The cope is made from velvet and linen with many additional embroidered elements in silk and gold/silver thread, and would have been worn by the priest during ceremonies and processions prior to the Reformation. 

The origins of the cope are unclear, and may have been used in St. Bridget's church itself, or alternatively may have had loftier provenance from a nearby abbey. The cope would have fallen out of mainstream liturgical use at the Reformation, and was lost until 1846 when Father Thomas Abbot (a slightly confusing name for a local priest!), the incumbent at a nearby Catholic chapel, visited St. Bridget's where the cope was in use as an altar cloth and who recognised it for what it was. In the early 1980s, Kirstie Buckland carried out extensive and vital repairs, before it was again restored in 2011-13, since when it has hung on the east wall of the north aisle behind glass for protection.

The rich burgundy cape area is adorned with a host of embroidered seraphs, flowers, fleurs-de-lys, and double-headed eagles, all centred around an image of the Assumption of St. Mary, who is crowned and supported by angels. The white orphrey stripe is similarly adorned, this time with canopied saints and another depiction of the Virgin Mary, this time holding the Christ Child. Much of the embroidered thread has worn off over the centuries, leaving many ghostly figures and invitations for the viewer's imagination to fill in the gaps, but considering the perishability of the material, I would say that the 500+ years since its creation have treated it relatively well.

Glass casing, whilst a friend to conservation, is an enemy to photography. Still, the intricacy and richness of the cope's design and material make up can be appreciated as something remarkable. | Taken 14/08/24

Doctor Who aficionados will no doubt recognise the church and the wider village from the 2010 episode 'Amy's Choice,' with Matt Smith as the 11th Doctor going up against Toby Jones, the Dream Lord. Skenfrith appears as the fictional village of Upper Leadworth, home to a horde of alien pensioners who can turn people to dust by breathing on them from telescopic eyes which extend from their mouths (how this programme has been running for over 60 years astounds me). In fact, this is where I first came across the church, with its unique tower and the nearby castle visible in the background catching my eye and leading me to track down the church for visiting! This might be the nerdiest thing I have ever done.