THE BEDFORDSHIRE CHURCHES SERIES

This is to be a series of three volumes covering Bedfordshire churches in the nineteenth century. The volumes will contain descriptions of churches “on the eve of restoration” together with contemporary illustrations –most of which will be published for the first time.

For each church, there will be extracts from original records amplified by a commentary and explanatory footnotes. The main source material consists of:

• 1. Extracts from church inventories – mainly 1822

• 2. Antiquarian notes on churches by Archdeacon Bonney, c.1840

• 3. Archdeacon Bonney’s visitation notebooks 1823-1839

• 4. Articles on churches by W.A. – John Martin, the librarian at Woburn Abbey - 1845-1854

• 5. Church descriptions by Sir Stephen Glynne 1830-1870

There is considerable value in having these key sources, with illustrations and commentary, in one place. The descriptions by Bonney and Glynne are purely factual, but John Martin’s articles, highlighting abuses and neglect, make colourful and at times controversial reading. Bonney’s visitation notes - and the supporting evidence from contemporary records such as churchwardens’ accounts – give a clear indication that church buildings were far from neglected in the opening decades of the nineteenth century. Together these sources document features that can still be seen today, and provide information on others that have been lost.

The aim has been to present the text of contemporary sources in their original state, to convey a feeling for the times as well as to provide information. It is recognised that most of the sources could have been condensed by editing - for instance the lists of registers in the glebe terriers and the quotations in the articles by W.A. – but the Editorial Group felt that they should nevertheless be published in extenso.

The introductory commentary for each church includes a summary of the history of the building, focusing especially on eighteenth and nineteenth century restoration and alterations. These introductory notes are generally brief, but may be longer where differences between present and past external appearance merit detailed discussion. Detailed footnotes explain and amplify features mentioned in the text of the original sources and so lead the reader to additional research material.

The Sources – Introduction

Bedfordshire churches on the eve of restoration are well documented in a number of sources. First, there are a great many pictures of churches by artists such as Thomas Fisher and George Shepherd dating from the early Cl9th. Secondly, there are the manuscript sources which describe the condition of church buildings and ornaments in the years leading up to “the age of restoration”.

These sources are described and discussed in detail below. In outline, however, they include the glebe terriers for 1822 which describe the plan of each church and list the ornaments and furnishings. As Archdeacon of Bedford from 1821 to 1844, Dr. Henry Kaye Bonney compiled two notebooks on the churches in his care. In the one, he made detailed architectural notes on each church and its fittings, and in the other he kept a record of the orders made at his archidiaconal visitations between 1823 and 1839. Another commentator was John Martin, the Librarian at Woburn Abbey, who using the signature W.A. wrote a series of pithy articles on Bedfordshire churches for the Northampton Mercury and Bedfordshire Times between 1845 and 1854. Lastly, there are the notebooks of Sir Stephen Glynne who visited over a third of the churches in the County between 1830 and 1870.

Together these sources provide a colourful image of the appearance, condition and atmosphere of Bedfordshire churches at a time when on the one hand they were nearer their mediaeval state than they are today but when on the other they were arguably in their greatest need of attention.

Glebe Terriers (extracts) 1822

After the Reformation, the ecclesiastical authorities became increasingly aware of the need to keep proper records of church possessions. The documents known as glebe terriers fulfil this purpose, and include terriers (recording property and endowments) and inventories (listing goods and chattels). The existence of such records helped to prevent the loss and misappropriation of church property.

Terriers had been compiled for purely parochial purposes in mediaeval times, but in compliance with an archiepiscopal order or canon of 1571 it became a requirement for copies of these documents to be lodged in diocesan registries for safe-keeping.

AMPTHILL

Although the present church dates chiefly from the Cl4th and Cl5th, the foundations of the Cl2th church were discovered during excavations in 1975. The later church has a chancel, nave with north and south aisles, south porch and west tower. It retains its Cl5th roof with angels and shields (though the painted decoration is modem) and there is a ceilure above the former rood.

In 1696 a private pew was constructed for Lord Ashbumham of Ampthill Park in the south aisle of the church. Sir Christopher Wren and his pupil Nicholas Hawksmoor were involved in the design, and the pew was built by Alexander Fort, the King’s joiner. There was a heated legal dispute between Lord Ashburnham and Lord Ailesbury of Houghton House about this pew, which was eventually removed in 1847. The entrance through the east wall of the south aisle is shown in Buckler’s drawing dated 1835 (Plate 2). Lord Ailesbury had his own pew in the church, and there are faculties and papers regarding other Cl8th pews. In 1827 Boissier described the church as “crowded with pews & galleries”. Between 1823 and 1839 Bonney ordered several improvements to the pews, and in 1845 W.A. was highly critical of the arrangement of the church interior.

A faculty was obtained in 1728 to replace the pulpit, take down the chancel screen, and alter various windows. It was probably at this date that the pulpit was placed centrally in the chancel arch where it remained until 1847. Other repairs and alterations in the Cl8th and early Cl9th are recorded in the churchwardens’ accounts from 1718, vestry minutes from 1767, and churchwardens bills from 1823 (listed individually by Andrew Underwood) in the parish records.

Restoration came in 1847-8 under James Tacy Wing of Bedford, who provided new seats and galleries in the nave (Plate 3) and renewed the east window, repaired the roof and stonework, and added a small vestry on the north side of the chancel. In 1851-2 the church was lit by gas.

The tracery of the windows in the south aisle was renewed in 1872-3. Further work followed in 1877 when the vestry on the north side of the chancel was enlarged under James Piers St. Aubyn, although not all the work authorised by the faculty was carried out.

The parish churches of England are among the most noble and conspicuous of the nation’s architectural monuments. Their survival, however, owes more to chance than to good stewardship. Neglect, decay, and deliberate destruction are as much a part of their history as the work of dedicated benefactors and parishioners who strove to make our churches worthy for Christian worship.

As the sources selected for inclusion in this series demonstrate all too clearly, many Bedfordshire churches were in a dilapidated state in the opening decades of the nineteenth century. Others, whilst structurally sound and decently furnished for the worship of the day, needed “restoration” – a term meaning much more than just repair. This was the situation facing the Victorians who – far from vandalising our heritage – sought to restore these precious buildings from years of neglect and adapt them to suit the new liturgical arrangements of the time.

The coming of the ecclesiological movement in the 1840s brought a new concern for the ceremonial aspects of worship – the ministry of the sacraments instead of the ministry of the word. This entailed a change in the arrangement of church buildings, the old “preaching boxes” of the Cl8th giving way to churches in which all attention focused on the chancel and the holy table in the sanctuary. The reformers often exaggerated the poor state of church buildings as a means of drawing attention to the need for change, and the Victorians were invariably critical of alterations and repairs carried out in previous centuries when utility had been regarded as more important than sanctity.

Between about 1840 and 1914 virtually every parish church in England was in some measure restored, and vast sums of money were spent on what was seen to be one of the most worthy causes of the Victorian era. Many churches were rescued from the brink of collapse and given a new lease of life. Some were restored to their former glory. Others were mutilated beyond recognition or wholly rebuilt. Churches viewed by the Victorians as “tainted by classical alterations” were gothicised. Sound buildings were “improved” to suit the needs of a new religious age.

Churches remaining “unrestored” in appearance are to be seen at Chaigrave, Dean, Knotting, Odell, Shelton and Wymington (to name a few of the more rewarding examples in the County), but sadly the phrase “over restored” is all too common in the Bedfordshire volume of Dr. Nikolaus Pevsner’s Buildings of England series.

A brief general survey of post-Reformation church work in the County will be useful as an introduction to the subject. It seems sensible to frame the review round the work of architects - the designers of buildings and of furnishing schemes - who worked at different periods and in different styles. In this way, it is possible to view the changes in ecclesiastical taste in the County in their broader national context.

Post-Reformation church building to 1800

In general terms, church building activity came to an abrupt end at the time of the Reformation. There are, however, exceptions and recent studies in the neighbouring county of Huntingdonshire have demonstrated the extent of building work and improvements to churches into the seventeenth century. This may be untypical of the general picture, and Bedfordshire lacks any particularly distinguished examples of churches dating from the period between 1550 and 1800. Those mentioned below are all relatively minor when compared with the treasures in neighbouring counties, such as:

In Bedfordshire, Hulcote church was rebuilt by the Chemocke family in the late sixteenth century. It is gothic in form, but with a distinctly Renaissance feel. The tower at Blunham was rebuilt in 1583. At Odell there is a fine screen and ringing gallery of 1637 in the tower arch. At Campton, the north aisle dates from 1649. Whipsnade church was rebuilt in 1719. Melchboume has a seventeenthcentury porch brought, it is said, from Woodford in Northamptonshire. The body of the church was rebuilt in the classical style in about 1770. Shillington tower, destroyed in a storm in 1701, was rebuilt in brick in 1750. The 1783 black basalt Wedgwood font at Cardington - another formerly existed at Melchboume - is a particularly memorable example of eighteenth-century church furnishing. In every one of these cases the identity of the architect is unknown.

Having lived and worked in Bedfordshire for the past sixteen years, I have visited every church in the County in the course of my work. While on the staff of the Bedfordshire County Record Office I have been responsible for surveying and listing all the church records, and I am fortunate that this has enabled me to develop an intimate knowledge of the churches and their history.

It is my hope that in preparing these volumes I may be able to pass on some of this knowledge for the benefit of people interested either in specific churches or in the subject generally. I should like to thank the Society for publishing this book. I also wish to thank Gordon Vowles, the General Editor, and my colleagues on the Editorial Group for their constructive comments and suggestions throughout its gestation period.

Formal acknowledgment is due to the authorities and owners who have allowed the publication of their material. The 1822 glebe terriers are published here by kind permission of Lincoln Diocesan Record Office. Archdeacon Bonney’s church notes were among the manuscripts transferred to the County Record Office from the old Bedford Library, while Bonney’s visitation notes appear by kind permission of the present Archdeacon of Bedford, the Ven. Malcolm Lesiter. Sir Stephen Glynne’s Bedfordshire church notes are published by kind permission of Sir William Gladstone. Thanks are also due to Geoffrey Veysey, the Clwyd County Archivist, for providing information on the notes and for allowing me to quote from his article about Sir Stephen Glynne. The sources of illustrations are acknowledged separately.

Material for this volume has been gathered from several record repositories and institutions. My first debt of gratitude is to my colleagues in the Bedfordshire County Record Office, but I must also thank the staff at the British Library, the British Newspaper Library, the library of the Society of Antiquaries of London, the Bedfordshire County Library Service, Lambeth Palace Library, Cambridge University Library, Lincolnshire Archives, and the Hertfordshire County Record Office for their help and advice.

Thanks are also due to all those who have typed parts of the text including Deborah Blake and Ellen Collier, but especially to Pauline Newbery on whom the main body of the work has fallen.

As I indicated in the Introduction, I will begin my tour of four select security referents at the macro level and work my way down. I will do so for four reasons. The first is to help shake off any lingering anthropocentric biases that might skew the analysis were we to work in the opposite direction. Human security, of course, naturally invites an anthropocentric treatment; culture as I shall be discussing it is also largely a human concern; and the state is a human creation. Were we to get into the habit of putting people at the centre of our analysis, we might do so too readily precisely where it would be least appropriate. The second is that ecospheric security will be the least familiar concept of the four and for that reason might risk coming across as an afterthought if I were to treat it last. Third, and relatedly, given the unfamiliar style of analysis to which I aim to subject these referents, I see advantages in giving it its first rigorous test in a context in which it is least likely to grate, hoping thereby to cultivate a degree of comfort with it once I turn to referents that we are used to analyzing in less unconventional ways. Fourth, and most importantly, I will argue that the ecosphere must take priority as a security referent, and accordingly must condition our understanding of the others. This argument would be more difficult to make were I to put various carts before the horse.

We move now to more familiar terrain. Throughout the history of International Relations as a field, the state has been the primary security referent of concern. In this chapter – as in the previous one and the next two – I will start by clarifying the referent conceptually, then proceed to assess the kind and degree of value it has (if any), identify prominent threats to it, and discuss which of those threats are worthy of what level of investment in security.

It goes without saying that states will not devote resources to securing things about which they do not care. But do they care about everything that they should care about? And do they care too much or too little about things that they do care about? These fundamental questions rarely arise, except, perhaps, in the early stages of securitization moves, or when we cast a cynical eye on the priorities of politicians whom we suspect of misrepresenting personal or partisan interests as national or global ones. And yet they are of vital importance. How can we know that we are allocating security resources wisely without being clear about what things are worth securing, and why?

As a species, we spend a great deal of time, energy, and money on security. The world’s military budgets alone totalled more than $1.9 trillion U.S. dollars in 2020, an average of 6.0 percent of government spending and 2.0 percent of Gross Domestic Product.1 The United States accounts for more than a third of the total all by itself and spends upward of $70 billion on foreign and military intelligence (a figure that excludes black budget expenditures).2 Add in spending on border controls, coast guards, and funding for national security–related research and development across a variety of fields, and it is clear that many countries invest very heavily indeed in protecting against foreign threats.