Brent Knoll

When Sheila got home from work the sun was shining and warm so she suggested we go on a walk up Brent Knoll (500' in elevation). Dave said he'd come along and we took the dogs as well. Sheila drove us to the bottom of Church Road and we started walking up. Of course I had to stop from time to time to take photos.

This is St. Michael's Church. We passed by it on the path leading to the Knoll but we stopped in it on the way down.

As we walked up the path, the views were so lovely that I fell behind Sheila, Dave and the dogs as I stopped to take photos:

We took the path to the right in the photo up to the top of the Knoll.

It only took about 10 minutes or so to climb up to the Knoll but it WAS steep. Iwondered if I was losing my Santa Fe conditioning as I could feel my muscles straining in my legs but, on the other hand I wasn't losing my breath or feeling my heart pound. And I arrived at the top not panting like the dogs.

The following shots are a 360º panorama of the view from the top:

You can see a bit of the “sea”--the Severn Estuary, where Burnham is--in the distance
toward the right of the photo.

And more of the estuary.

In this photo of me blowing in the wind, I think that's Glastonbury Tor in the distance almost at the right corner; it's almost impossible to see because it's shrouded in cloud.

Here's a bit of the history: Brent Knoll was known by the Romans as “The Mount of Frogs” because in those times, virtually all of the lovely valley you see now consisted of waters and marshes. Roman coins from the Emperor Trajan (AD 98-117) and Septimus Severus (AD 145-211) were found on the Knoll in 1610. It is said that a village has existed in Brent Knoll since primitive times/Bronze Age. We sat on the sheltered side of the hill (just over that rise behind me) out of the wind as Sheila read us this history and Dave pointed out where various landmarks were below us. It was so peaceful there and yet there was also an indefinable kind of atmosphere as well. I think Muffin felt it as she kept whining and Daisy would barely sit still. Many battles were fought on this Knoll--Bronze Age, English tribes against the Norsemen, Civil War (English) battles.

But even with that odd feeling, as you can see we felt that we almost didn't want to leave the Knoll. It was so comfortable sitting there chatting, imagining life in previous centuries. Hard, brutal, short but, later, pastoral and calm. I guess that's the idyllic view of the land--self-sufficiency, no worry about pension plans and redundancy/job loss. I can tell how much Dave and Sheila love this county from the way they talk and the delight they take in exploring it. I was a bit envious of the roots they obviously have.

We reluctantly left the knoll and when we got down to St. Michael's we were delighted to find that the church was open.

We left the dogs outside by the gate and entered.

St. Michaels was built in stages, additions being made as finance became available. It was originally built in the early 14th century but most of that actual building is gone although the Victorians used the stone when they remodelled.

Still, goodly parts remain inside and some of the windows, such as this one still contain medieval stained glass.

On one of the walls of the church was this beautiful plaque which commemorates John Somerset who drove back the Royalist forces during the English Civil War (1641-1645). I looked and looked on Google to learn more about John Somerset but I wasn't able to find anything so all I know is that one sentence in the St. Michael's pamphlet. Sheila and I talked about how the Internet has allowed us to get so much more background on places and events; we can visit a place and then, when we're trying to remember something, look it up on Google. But even Google still has limitations :)

This plaque on the floor of the aisle was a sad reminder of infant mortality in the mid 1700s. Mom and dad have long joined those infants but as a mom/grandma myself I still feel the sadness they must have felt as they laid their tiny ones to rest beneath this stone.

What particularly fascinated Sheila and Dave, and what attracts many visitors to the church, is a series of intricately carved bench ends, three of which are an allegory of a fox who runs afoul of the local forest animals. They were apparently carved in the 14th century and represent the anger the people of St. Michael's parish felt toward the Abbot of Glastonbury who expected the lion's share of their tithes. Remember that beautiful, huge, Abbey I blogged about two days ago? Yep, the head of that Abbey also stretched his influence across the valley.

The carving on the first bench end has the fox (Reynard) dressed as an Abbot, addressing geese, an owl, a cock, etc. Above him, between two birds, is an ape chained and holding a moneybag, representing the folk who are forced to give the Abbot their tithes. In the lower part of the panel, two apes roasting a pig represent gluttony, presumably the Abbot's gluttony. I think back to the Abbot's kitchen; by our standards his meals were modest but compared with what the people in the lands around had to eat, perhaps he banqueted every day. (The explanation of the carving comes from a pamphlet published and printed by the Parochial Church Council of St. Michael's Church, revised 2007. Conjecturing is my own.)

The owl sits atop the second carving, perhaps he was the one who blew the whistle on the Abbot/fox. A little below, we see the ape inciting the geese against the fox. The middle bit shows the fox stripped of his robes and, in the bottom carving, he's sitting in irons, guarded by an ape. Sheila and I were puzzled over the representation of apes; we wondered how the medieval carver would have known about them. They weren't/aren't native to England. Again, I couldn't find a definitive answer on Google although apes were apparently used in satire from medieval times. And perhaps these creatures that the 14th century carver used weren't even apes. Perhaps that's a later interpretation. A mystery.

In the final bench end carving, the fox is hanged by the geese. Ironically, (I looked this up on Google because I was curious to know what indeed did happen to the last Abbot), the last Abbot of Glastonbury, Richard Whiting, was indeed hanged in 1539 (early 16th century). Now if the little paper is true, these ends were carved about 150 years before that, i.e., 14th century. Either the woodcarver, or whoever commissioned him, was a seer, or someone's off on their dates. Once more Google lets me down as to any definitive timing for the bench ends. I am thinking that I might want to go to the local historical society or maybe even ask someone in St. Michael's. Maybe that would be stirring things up though. Hmmmm.

So the ancient woodcarver told his story and so I tell mine. He used wood and an awl
and I use a camera and a laptop. He took weeks, perhaps, months. I took about four and a half hours. Both of us probably muttered under our breath when the pictures didn't line up and I had to deal with text as well, he had to deal with wood and a sharp awl. He understood his craft very well, I'm just beginning. Between the two of us, I think his art is the more beautiful, certainly more tangible and may probably ultimately be more lasting--it's already lasted for 600 years-- but I think our aims were/are similar. My aim in my art is to share all of this beauty, and these conundrums, with my friends back home and, ultimately, bring these times back with me once I finish my travels so I can revisit them whenever I want; keep the memories strong. I think back to all the travels of the past 40-odd years and how little I remember of the pre-digital, pre computer period. I think of my mother's photograph albums with their wonderful photos but scanty references; I don't know what she was feeling as she took the photos or even who the people caught in time are. I feel blessed to have this technology to use to supplement my very faulty (and getting faultier) memory.

On a more prosaic note, we returned to Burnham satisfied both physically and mentally. Later, Sheila and I went to La Vela, an Italian restaurant in Burnham and ate a rather hearty Italian meal. The scales registered that heartiness this morning so, after spending two hours this morning (added to the two late last night) fidgeting with this blog, it's time I posted it and got moving!