Thank you for taking the time to visit my JustGiving page. This is my annual Ride and Stride in aid of the Oxfordshire Historic Churches Trust and my church. On 8th September 2018 I will be fund-raising by visiting a planned route of churches.All the generously donated money goes to OHCT who then send 50% to my church. This year I am making a special effort to raise funds for the restoration of our wooden war memorial, as well as contributing to essential roof repairs.  OHCT use their share to award grants to churches across the county towards the cost of fabric repairs and re-orderings.

As with last year, I have decided to do my Ride and Stride
over some weeks – there are too many fascinating churches to pack it all into one day. To start with, I want to explore the western reaches of Witney Deanery—to date I’d never gone beyond Bampton. This time, the ‘Broadshires’ will be a main focus. I've now discovered that my account has reached the limit of what can be displayed, so am editing to ensure that most recent posts come up first. When I have finished the series of walks, I'll mail out a complete account.

Witney and Oxford, 8 and 9 September

As I was Welcoming at St Mary’s Cogges in the afternoon, I
decided that my final ‘Stride’ should be in two halves: Witney and the
surrounding area on the Saturday morning, and a final sortie into Oxford on Sunday to take advantage of Oxford Open Doors to get into otherwise inaccessible buildings. I set out on a damp cool morning, and reached the Victorian church of Holy Trinity, Witney a little before it opened—however, I had an excellent view of the Oxford Historic Churches Trust banner dixplayed against the churchyard wall as I came up the Bladon Road. I carried on past the church and the green, and cut down through Farmer’s Close to the Hailey Road—fortunately there is a footway which means you can walk directly to Hailey by road.

Coming in to ‘Middle Town’ I noticed on the right a private house with an ecclesiastical form (including square tower and spire)—the name
‘Old Chapel’ was unsurprising (I assume, the former Methodist Chapel of 1908). A little further on St John Evangelist, Hailey is set back from the road, and it was nice to see from the gleaming lights that it was open. It was built in 1867 (replacing an 18^th-century chapel), and Pevsner was startled by what he called its ‘bulbous forms and freakish detail’. To me it had a very welcoming feel, and it was great to see that the recent repairs to the floor have been successfully completed.

I took a field path back down to Witney, intersecting with
the Crawley Road and walking up through the town. I called in on High Street Methodist, the Congregational Church, and Our Lady and St Hugh (the dedication to St Hugh of Lincoln recalling the days when Witney marked the borders of the medieval Winchester and Lincoln dioceses). I then took the road out to St John the Baptist, Curbridge. This small church, built in 1906, is again set back from the road, and has a red pantile roof. Inside there is a decorative scheme of red and green, with fixtures and fittings that look to date from the original build. It has an Arts and Crafts feel which I enjoyed. I caught the bus back to Witney, in time to call in at Newland Methodist Chapel (opposite my house), and get down to St Mary’s Cogges.

On Sunday morning I caught the bus into Oxford and walked
down to Lincoln College Library, the former All Saints Church. As this is Oxford Open Doors weekend, it was open to the public, and I was able to go in and admire what is still recognizably a fine eighteenth-century church (built to replace the original medieval church; the living had been given to Lincoln College on its foundation in 1427). The level of the floor was raised when the church was converted into a library, but you go in at the original level, and standing at the west end you can see the original proportions.

Further down the High, I turned into Queen’s Lane, and St Edmund Hall to see their Library, the former St Peter-in-the-East. This is a beautiful Romanesque church, with a particularly fine beakhead South doorway. Inside, it is surprisingly spacious; you don’t realize from the exterior how large it actually is. The churchyard outside has been carefully preserved, and there were two notable memorials. One, in fact, no longer exists, but is commemorated on a brass plaque inside.This records the ‘simple inscription’ originally placed (as requested by his will) on the tomb of the antiquary Thomas Hearne (1678-1735). Apparently this had been defaced, although there was no further explanation –was it just wear and tear, or was it connected to his political beliefs (he was a nonjuror and Jacobite), or what ODNB calls his ‘difficult personality’? A more recent tombstone has survived; to James Sadler (died 1828), described as the ‘first English aeronaut’. The stone was twice renewed by the Royal Aeronautical Society, first on the centenary of his death, and then ‘after the bicentenary of his first flight [by balloon, in 1784] on 4^th October.’

My final visit was to St Clements Church in the Marston Road, and it was satisfying the see the ‘Georgian Norman’ architecture from the inside. It’s a very handsome interior, high and light.The east end is only liturgically east; geographically it is aligned to the north. There is a striking early twentieth-century window in the (actual) north-west corner of the church, commemorating George Herbert Morrell of Headington Hill Hall, and depicting the vision described in Revelation 1:12-22 relating to the Seven Churches of Asia. It was very satisfying to have seen inside the church, and a satisfactory conclusion to a hugely enjoyable series of Ride and Stride church visits.

Oxford, 7 September

With the weather looking distinctly less promising for
tomorrow, I decided to capitalize on today’s sunshine by a walk to Iffley and Littlemore. An early bus took me in to the Botley Road, and I set out eastwards on theThames Path. Interesting to see that after the recent rain (and in a shadier and damper area) to look is much less autumnal and parched than it was in the Broadshires. There were plenty of green leaves on the trees,and the grass of the verge was quite lush. I got to Folly Bridge at 9.15 (looking left up St Aldates you get a good view of Tom Tower), and walked on down the Thames Path. I crossed the river at Iffley Lock and walked up to St Mary’s Iffley – one of the jewels among Oxford’s churches, with its stunning Romanesque carving. I took plenty of time to admire that, but it was also pleasing to see that there are contributions from the more recent past. The ‘Flowering Tree’, a stained-glass window by Roger Wagner. shows the crucified Christ hanging on a blossoming tree with a river gushing from its roots. Angels guard the new aumbry by Nicholas Mynheer, and Wagner and Mynheer together designed the new font cover with a dove made of fused glass at its heart, set in a circle of pewter with cut-out shapes of leaves. Around the rim run the words, ‘The old has passed away Behold the new is born if anyone is in Christ there is a new creation.’ It’s also moving to notice the personal memorials – I liked the one to an eighteenth-century man who lived as a ‘simple gentleman’ and was a ‘father to the fatherless’ and a ‘neighbour to widows’. St Mary’s is wonderful in architectural and artistic terms, but it’s also an embodiment of the Christian message, reaching out to its many visitors.

Some slightly anxious map-reading led me successfully to a
footbridge over the eastern bypass. I called in at the Sainsbury’s superstore for refreshment (much-appreciated coffee and Danish), and then made my way to the second church on today’s list:  St Mary and St Nicholas, Littlemore. Built by John Henry Newman (the foundation stone was laid in 1835), this was the church in which he preached his final sermon as an Anglican minister, ‘The Parting of Friends’, in 1843. Its decoration and furnishings reflect the Anglo-Catholic flowering of the time, although some of the features (such as the Rood screen) are later. It was controversial in its day, but then as now its most important feature was the endeavour to serve its community.

Newman’s mother Jemima, who laid the foundation stone of the
church, is commemorated here, and I’m old enough to appreciate the words (from Psalm 71, verse 9), ‘Cast me not away in time of age; forsake me not when my strength faileth me.’

Of course, in our day, ‘time of age’ does bring certain advantages, such as a bus pass…I was able to cross the road and board a convenient bus down to the city centre, having greatly enjoyed my visit to two very special churches.

Oxford , 3 September

In the week running up to Ride and Stride, Bishop Steven is
doing a pilgrimage walk around the 46 Anglican churches of the Oxford and Cowley deaneries, and I planned a walk to call in at some of the churches on his route. I started by walking out over Magdalen Bridge and up the Marston Road as far as Ferry Road where I took a left turn, on the way down to what is now the Russian Orthodox Church of St Nicholas the Wonderworker. It is a discreet building with a modest campanile, tucked in between a row of houses and a garage, and it was originally the Mission Church established in 1919 by St Nicholas Marston. When the new St Michael and All Angels was built in the 1950s, this church experienced some chequered decades, before in 2006 the Orthodox church bought it to provide the permanent home their congregation was looking for. They restored and refurbished the building, and now when you go in it is rich with colour, with frescoes on the walls and ceilings. The various depicted saints depict two princesses—Elizabeth of Russia, Queen Victoria’s granddaughter, martyred by the Bolsheviks, and Frideswide, holding the model of a church in her hands.

Back on the Marston Road, I walked up to St Michael and All Angels, and was welcomed in by the Vicar and members of the congregation who were preparing for the Bishop’s arrival (walking down from St Nicholas Old Marston). Inside it is a well-proportioned building with a wide nave and side aisles, and the broad flat pillars are decorated with stone tablets showing what I thought initially might be Stations of the Cross, but which are corresponding Old and New Testament scenes – on the north side, the Expulsion from the Garden, Abraham and Isaac, Jacob and the Angel, and the Fiery Furnace, and on the south, the Annunciation, the Nativity, Gethsemane, and the Resurrection. The stained glass in the oval east window shows the Risen Christ hovering over the Oxford skyline. It was good to have time to walk round and enjoy the church before the Bishop’s arrival, and the start of the service he was holding in each church (it was  lovely to take part in that).

His party was on quite a tight itinerary, and while I wasn’t worried by the distance, I wasn’t at all sure that I could quite do the full route in the time. I therefore left them to spring up to St Andrew’s Headington, and walked up Jack Straws Lane and Headley Way to have lunch, and then find my way to All Saints, Highfield. Again, I found a warm welcome and time to appreciate the interior of the church.  It really is very impressive, all in red brick, with fine columns and high arched windows. I was able quickly to find the Titanic memorial that I remembered, on a brass plate on the south wall. The inscription reads, ‘To the glory of God and in memory of John Wesley Woodward Bandsman of the S.S. Titanic who with his comrades nobly performed his duty to the last when the ship sank after collision with an iceberg on April 15 1912.’ It records that he was born on September 11, 1879, and at the bottom has the quotation, ‘Nearer my God to thee.’

The chancel and Lady Chapel are later additions to the main church (although it looks all of a piece), and the Lady Chapel is now glazed in). The glass was given in memory of Edith Bonner, for many years one of the OED lexicographers, and is beautifully engraved with T. S. Eliot’s words ‘In my end is my beginning’, set out in undulating lines. The Vicar kindly showed it to me after the service—it was a lovely surprise, and of course engendered affectionate memories of Edith. So nice, though unsurprising, that she is evidently still warmly remembered.

The final church was St Mary’s Barton, out beyond the Ring Road, and once again there was a warm welcome, and a chance to enjoy the interior. I was very pleased to find that my memory of a window showing Charles I was correct—but I hadn’t remembered the full impact. The window has a central panel showing Our Lady. Below and to her right kneels King Charles the Martyr (so labelled). Across to the left, a matching panel displays Archbishop Laud. The Society of King Charles the Martyr has left its mark!

Once more, the service was a lovely moment for rest and reflection, and I crossed the road to the bus stop feeling that I’d had a particularly privileged day in experiencing the hospitality of distinctive congregations and learning something of how they are serving their communities, as well as appreciating the buildings that house them.

Oxford, 21 & 25 August

Changing to an urban scene, I took an early bus into Oxford
planning to walk up into Headington. The first part of the walk was a reminder of how many early churches Oxford had. Walking down Cornmarket, I passed the fine Saxon tower of St Michael at the Northgate, and cut down to Turl Street. This reaches The High between the old Mitre inn and what is now Lincoln College Library—originally, All Saints’ Parish Church. This was another medieval foundation, but when the tower collapsed in 1700 it was rebuilt in a classical style. (Looking back up The High you can see the last traces of another ‘lost’ church—Carfax Tower, originally the tower of St Martin’s Church (the original town church; demolished in the early nineteenth century). Walking east along The High I then passed the Church of St Mary the Virgin (the University Church), and came to Queen’s Lane. Looking up it, you see the library of St Edmund’s Hall, originally the Romanesque church of St Peter in the East, a reminder of Norman Oxford.

Out over Magdalen Bridge, I was leaving behind the medieval
foundations of the city centre. Going up Clement Street, I passed on the right the former St Ignatius Chapel, a small classical building of the late eighteenth century—the first Roman Catholic place of worship in Oxford since the Reformation, built 1793 after restrictions on Catholics were lifted. I walked on up Headington Hill until I came to Lime Walk, and turned down it to find the handsome redbrick (1910) church of All Saints, Highfield, built to serve the then growing population of ‘New Headington’. It was locked, but I remember attending a service there years ago, and being struck by a brass memorial table to someone who went down on the Titanic. I walked on down to Old Road, Headington, and turned left towards the turn into Quarry Road. This in turn led me to the tree-shaded path down to Holy Trinity, Headington Quarry. Its grey stone, medieval look is deceptive: this is one of Gilbert Scott’s Gothic Revival churches, and it was built following an appeal by Bishop Wilberforce (in a sermon preached at St Aldates) for the foundation of a church to serve the unchurched community of Headington Quarry. Today it is probably best-known for a later association: C. S. Lewis and his brother worshipped and are buried here. Reaching the eastern bypass, I used the subway to get across to the Barton side and St Mary’s Headington, another modern (1958) church, which again I was sorry to find locked. I remember attending a service there years before, and noticing a stained glass window depicting Charles I.  I think the explanation for this is that the current St Mary’s replaced two earlier mission chapels, one of which was sponsored by the Society of King Charles the Martyr.

Crossing back via the subway, I walked down as far as the turn into the Old High Street. After a very welcome coffee and cake at a nice patisserie, I went in search of my final church—St Andrew’s, Old Headington. Its honey-coloured tower suggested that I was back with an earlier foundation, something strongly affirmed inside by the fine Romanesque chancel arch. Although St Andrew’s, as its guide points out, is not ‘an architectural whole’; rather, it has been added to and adapted to serve the changing needs of its congregation through the years. The result, of course, is that there are a range of discoveries to be made, especially perhaps two memorial windows. One, very simple, is ‘Fish Window’, which shows against an engraved background a fish and texts – ‘Love God & love your neighbour’ and ‘the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations’.  The other, anything but simple, is Archibald Nicholson’s 1932 window commemorating a lady with the
splendid name of Vashti de Montfort Wellborne. She lived at Barton Manor with her mother, and the lights of the window show Our Lady and St Anne, Simon de Montfort, founder of the English Parliament, and Vashti, Queen of Persia, and then respectively the Chapter House of Westminster (where the first Parliament assembled) and Barton Manor. There can’t be many church windows so peopled.

I walked back to Headington Shops to catch a bus down into central Oxford, feeling that my ‘perambulation’ (as Pevsner might have called it) had been extremely successful. Going from church to church is a fascinating way of seeing how a city has grown through the centuries, and how it continues to change today.

Oxford (2), 25 August

Another early bus into Oxford, and once more down the High
and out over Magdalen Bridge. This time instead of going up Headington Hill I turned left into Marston Road, and almost immediately came to my first church, St Clement’s, built in 1827-8 to replace an earlier church. Before 1836 St Clements’s was outside the city boundaries, but in the 1820s it was expanding (a website account quotes a contemporary source saying that services were ‘very much annoyed and interrupted by the continued noise of carriages passing to and fro’). It was determined to build a new larger church (for the increased congregation) on a new site. John Henry Newman served as curate from 1824-6, and apparently was very effective in fundraising. I was very interested to read that the architect for the new church was Daniel Robertson, who went on to design the Clarendon Press building in Walton Street. It’s a rather fine building with a square tower and high windows; Pevsner calls it ‘patently Georgian Norman’, not a term that I would have immediately decoded, but I see what he meant.

Walking north up the Marston Road, I came to St Michael and All Angels on the corner of Jackstraws Lane. This is a twentieth-century (1954-6) build, in an Italianate style with a campanile. There is a figure of the archangel over the west front, and an angel on each side. Its background provides another snippet of the history of Oxford’s churches. Originally (in 1919) St Nicholas Marston opened a mission hall in Ferry Road to serve the growing population of New Marston. This was replaced by St Michael’s, built as a chapel of ease for St Andrew’s Headington, but in 1962 becoming a separate parish. (The original mission hall building in Ferry Road is now the Russian Orthodox Church of St Nicholas the Wonderworker.) I completed today’s expedition by walking on to St Nicholas Old Marston, where, as with St Andrew’s Headington, I was back with a medieval foundation at the heart of its village, recorded from the twelfth century, but with a significant rebuild in the fifteenth century. I spent a little time exploring it before catching a convenient bus back into Oxford.

Earlier walks

Broadshires 1, 20& 25 July

An early bus to Alvescot memorial drops you at the start of a path to Kencot. With the hot weather, it already feels like end of summer:pale stubble underfoot, and the first blackberries setting in the hedgerows. You come out in the long road which links three villages, Kencot, Broadwell, and Langford. For the first walk, I turned right and walked up the lane to where St George’s Kencot is tucked away beside its village green. Its Norman doorway has a tympanum showing a centaur shooting a monster which is replicated in the sign on the village green. Inside, all periods are represented, from the Norman-Saxon of the high thin nave, through the Jacobean pulpit and the later west gallery, to the inner modern tympanum of the Agnus Dei, carved for the Millennium.

Regaining the main street, I walked down to St Peter’s Broadwell, which after the simplicity of Kencot comes as a surprise. In fact, even walking over the fields it was the spire of Broadwell which caught the attention. Broadwell is a small village now, but this was once the principal parish church between Burford and Lechlade, and had minster status. The chantry chapel for the wonderfully-named de Oddingsele family has a tall narrow ‘banner stave cupboard’—apparently, for processional staves, something more commonly found in East Anglia than West Oxfordshire.

From Broadwell, I walked by field and lane to St Peter’s Filkins, a small fine nineteenth-century church said to be one of the finest creations of the architect G. E. Street. He was certainly expeditious in building it: an application to build a church for Filkins was made in 1851. Street saw and strongly criticised the plans put forward, and in 1855 delivered his alternative plan—it was accepted, and the church
was consecrated on Easter Tuesday, 1857.

For the next walk, I repeated the bus journey to Alvescot
and the walk across the fields (enjoying a wonderful view of a hare cantering down the line of stubble, and standing up on its back legs to sniff the air. They are so tall – no wonder they have the name ‘stag of the furrows). I walked south through Broadwell and down into Langford--too early this time for St Matthew’s Langford to be open, but I was able to admire the outside, and sit in the porch. Interesting details there included a framed print of an 1808 map showing Langford ‘in the County of Berkshire’, and an illuminated memorial of the Coronation. The text read, ‘The village of Langford, together with the hamlets of Grafton and Radcot, observed this Royal Event in a traditional way ofworship and festivities.’ It went on, movingly, to note that ‘From fundssubscribed towards these observances a gift of Sixty Pounds was sent to The National Flood Distress Relief Fund to aid those who suffered so severely in the disastrous floods on the East Coast in the earlier part of Coronation Year.’

The road out of Langford to Little Faringdon I left for
another day, and instead took the lane over to St Peter’s Broughton Poggs – a medieval church linked with Filkins (‘two churches, one St Peter’ as the guide book has it). This is a very different church, and quite hard to find, but once tracked down its medieval simplicity is very appealing. It was locked this time, but perhaps if I go again I shall be luckier. Finally I walked back up through Filkins and across to Broadwell and then Alvescot to pick up the bus, feeling very pleased to have
begun to get to know the Broadshires.

Broadshires 2, 2^nd August

This time I took the 8.30 bus over to Alvescot, so that St Matthew’s Langford would be open by the time I got there. I cut down by a bridlepath to Calcroft Lane (between Clanfield and Langford), and got to St Matthew’s around 10.30. This time I was able to enjoy the interior, including the very fine Early English chancel, and what the church’s information calls a ‘rustic wall tablet’ of 1691 which commemorates members of the Howse family with a punning inscription—‘Withinthis Little Howse three Howses lye’. The great treasures of the church, though, are on the exterior of the south porch: two Saxon relief sculptures including a Crucifixion scene. It has been moved and reassembled at some point: the figures of Our Lady and St John are reversed, and Christ’s arms are upside down. There is also a headless figure of Christ triumphant in pleated cloak and with arms outstretched.

St Mattew’s must have been an impressive building from an
early period (apparently Langford is listed in Domesday book among the royal estates). It is a contrast to St Margaret of England, Little Faringdon, which I reached by walking down the lane connecting the two villages. St Margaret’s was originally a chapel of ease, and
it is a much smaller building, although a very attractive and interesting
one.  It dates back to the medieval period, although the early history is not recorded – however, it is suggested that it was among the holdings given by King John to the Cistercians of Beaulieu. The round arches and capital carvings are from the thirteenth century. The dedication iis of quite recent date: up to this century, there was no known dedication, but in 2000 it was dedicated to St Margaret of England (an
early Cistercian nun) to mark the Millennium. I must admit I had never heard of her, and had to look her up. I rather enjoyed discovering that St Margaret of England seems to have been a Hungarian with an English mother, while the earlier St Margaret of Scotland who was was English, was also born in Hungary, but probably to a Hungarian mother.

These were the most distant churches to visit in this bit of
the Broadshires, and with the day growing hotter I was glad to get back to Alvescot to wait for the bus. It’s been so dry that there are very few flowers left, but I did enjoy seeing a few spikes of vivid blue chicory along the lane.

Broadshires 3, 9^th August

A short walk today, as I had to fit in other things. I took the 8.30 bus over to Black Bourton corner, and walked down into the village.The first building you see is (surprisingly, in that area) a redbrick one, with high pointed windows giving a clue to its origins. A stone panel on the front confirms that it was the Primitive Methodist Chapel for Black Bourton, built in 1861-2. Continuing down the lane, I turned left into Burford Road, and soon came to St Mary the Virgin, Black Bourton,

a handsome medieval church with a square tower, set back from the road. As you walk up the broad churchyard path, you have a good view of the Norman priest’s door into what is now the chancel (the earliest part of the church) with a Maltese cross in the tympanum.

A set of fine medieval wall paintings are perhaps the most
striking feature of the interior. Items illustrated include biblical scenes
(the Baptism of Christ and the Adoration of the Magi), and also saints whose cult was popular at the time – St Richard of Chichester, and Thomas a Becket (his martyrdom is shown). The Hungerford chantry chapel, from a later period, is also worth spending some time on. A 1657 floor slab commemorating Anthony Hungerford and his wife Rachell (mother of their twelve children) has the lines: ‘He liv’d in love, he lov’d to dye/He di’d to live eternally./She humbly doth submit unto this rod/And daily wayts the call of God.’

A footpath through the churchyard and adjoining cemetery
looked as though it ran over to Alverscot, but the field through which it ran was inhabited by some White Park Cattle. They were lying down, looking very handsome and peaceable, and I admired their snowy coats, black muzzles, and long curved horns. A notice on one gate warned dog walkers to keep dogs leashed – some of the cows were in calf, and it was advisable in case ‘the ladies get anxious.’ I felt I, too, might get a little anxious, so I settled for admiring them from a distance, and walking back to the main road where a footway runs up the mile or so to Alverscot. Reaching the war memorial, I turned right down the
lane to St Peter’s Alverscot. Sadlythe church was locked, but I was able to walk round and admire the exterior, set in a large and well-cared-for churchyard. The building is largely fourteenth-century, but dates back earlier—originally, apparently, it was a chapel-of-ease for Bampton. Interestingly, the dedication has changed: in the 1100s it was dedicated to St Nicholas. The change seems to have been made in the thirteenth century.

I had hoped to walk through to Clanfield, but other commitments and bus times didn’t work, so I walked back to the bus stop and
caught the 11.09 to Carterton, leaving St Stephen’s for another day.

Clanfield, 19^th
August.

Having been through Clanfield several times on the way to
Alverscot, I decided to do a walk that would take in St Stephen’s, Clanfield. I caught the 8.30 bus on a grey morning,
got off at Alverscot, and cut south down the bridlepath for a mile to intersect with Calcroft Lane. Turning left, I walked down the lane until just before Chestlyon Farm (the original manor) I reached a footpath sign to the right. This turned out to be a well-marked path which skirted the edge of the farm, and came out in an area of grassland running up to the churchyard wall. Opening the gate, I walked up to the porch and into the church.

St Stephen’s is a long low building, with nave and chancel
running east from a square battlemented tower with corner pinnacles. There is a fifteenth-century statue of the saint under a canopy on the stair-turret. He is holding a book and stones, emblematic of him as preacher and martyr. The church has apparently been rebuilt several times since the thirteenth century, when its records begin. The guidebook quotes from a visitation report of 1519: ‘The chancel is in ruins and open and the windows are out’, and a churchwarden of
1868 wrote across the form for his annual report, ‘Church in bad repair, church yard not big enough.’ It’s very creditable to Clanfield that each time the necessary repair and rebuilding seems to have been achieved. (In 1869 there was a major refit, and the congregation worshipped in a barn at Chestlyon Farm until the church was reopened.) I enjoyed the visit—not because there was any one outstanding feature, but because its continuing existence typified what must have been for decades and centuries a loved and valued parish church.