Hidden Garden Haunted by a Ghostly Monk!

Monks Walk: The carved wooden sign at the entrance.

Been on holiday, and scheduled posts to appear while I was away (including this one), but nothing happened! Plus all my portrait photos, which are saved as such, are appearing here as landscape... the same thing has been happening on Facebook for weeks. I have no idea what I am doing wrong. I am doing everything just as I always have. Anyway, since there seems to be no way of correcting them, you have some sideways pictures in today's  Saturday Snapshot. And if anyone can tell me what I am doing wrong, and how to put it right, I'd love to know. Meanwhile I can only apologise. I find it very annoying, and very confusing, and it must be worse for anyone reading this post. I am sorry!

One of the flower-edged walkways, with part of an old wall
running alongside.

Anyway, here goes. I’ve been meaning to explore the Monks Walk Garden in Lichfield for ages, but I never seem to have time on the days I’m in the Oxfam bookshop. However, the other week I arranged to meet friends for lunch, so I went over a little earlier to give myself time to take a look, and to have a play with the exposure and aperture on my posh Nikon D3100 which I’m still getting used to. 

The little dovecote looks even better the right way up.

It was a good place to experiment, because there were spots in bright sunshine, and dappled shade, and much darker areas with very little light indeed. Some of the photos were rubbish, because I didn’t get the settings right, but at least I now know what not to do! Others were quite nice, and I was pretty pleased with myself, so I thought I’d use them for a Saturday Snapshot, even though self praise is no recommendation!

Backlit alliums. There were masses of these, all grouped
together, looking really stunning, but I wanted to try a close-up.

The garden is only small – a narrow strip hidden away alongside a car park, between the city’s library and the college, and it's kind of hidden away, so I suspect it goes unnoticed by visitors and residents alike. But it’s absolutely beautiful, with masses of old-fashioned, cottage garden type plants. There's a little path which runs down one side, across the bottom end, and back up the other side to the entrance and exit. And there's a dovecote, and a bench with the back carved from two huge slabs of wood.

I love this carved wooden back of a bench.

I assume it’s called Monks Walk because this is where the old Friary stood (until Henry VIII got rid of so many of England’s religious institutions), and it’s only a stone’s throw from the modern 'Friary Garden', which I wrote about here this time last year. 

Foxgloves, or Digitalis: Perhaps the old Friars who once lived
on this site grew these lovely flowers to treat heart conditions.

When you think about it the monks, or friars as I should really call them, would certainly have had some kind of garden where they could walk and reflect, and where they grew herbs and other plants with medicinal properties, and kept bees. Probably I’ve read too much Cadfael, but I like to think the Walk might be on part of an older plot, where a Medieval Franciscan (for this was a Franciscan house) toiled on his land in all weathers and spent hours brewing up his lotions and potions to help the sick and elderly. 

The garden has a really old-fashioned feel to it, and is
very peaceful.

I doubt the image in my mind is accurate, but it might be – after all, no-one seems to know the age of Monks Walk. Apparently it is shown on a late 19th Century map, and in the following century it was part of the Friary School, which includes the old Bishop’s Lodging (the buildings now house the library). And there are legends of a ghostly lost monk haunting the garden and vanishing through the ruined arch by the college, on the other side of the car park. But be warned, you can’t move in Lichfield without tripping over a ghost: every building in every street seems to boast a spectral visitor, and it’s hard to sift fact from fiction!

Volunteers look after Monks Walk, and in the past local schoolchildren have also helped, but I don’t know if they still do. Actually, I don’t know much about the garden at all and nor, I suspect, does anyone else, because there is very little information available anywhere. Even Kate at Lichfield Lore, who is a mine of information about the city and its history, seems to have drawn a blank on this one, although she has written a couple of short pieces about it. According to her, the walls around it are interesting. They are, she says, a mix of brick and stone, with a bricked up entrance, but I didn’t pay them as much attention as I should have done, and consequently missed the bricked up entrance. 

If you look at the photo very carefully (which is jolly
difficult when it is the wrong way), you can see where a gate or
door in the wall has been bricked up.

I also missed the grave, of ‘Richard the Merchant’, set into the back wall of the Friary, which is mentioned in one of the comments on her post. Apparently, it is very hard to read, and I am not sure whether it refers to one of the walls enclosing the garden, or the main Friary building, or other nearby walls, so it's difficult to know where to look!

Not sure what this plant is - some kind of broom I think - but
it looked truly amazing with the light behind it, making the
pods translucent, so you can see the seeds inside, and all
the tiny hairs on the surface.

Kate gives a link to Staffordshire Gardens & Park Trusts, where it says Monks Walk could have been part of a larger garden on property owned by Sir Richard Cooper. His estate was on land that originally formed part of the historic Friary, and it was given to the City of Lichfield in 1920 ‘for the permanent use and benefit of the citizens’.  Plants grown there today were popular in the 17th and 18th Centuries, and are laid out in what was known as ‘mingle’ planting.

A feather caught on a leaf looked so delicate, and I like
the contrast between it's feathery edges and the solid leaves.
This is another upright shot!

Saturday Snapshot is hosted by Melinda at West Metro Mummy.

Well Wishing where a Saint Stood...

St Chad's Well, at St Chad's Church, Lichfield. I'm sure it is
much nicer in summer, when the vine growing over the roof
is green, but at the moment it looks like a haystack on legs.

Today is the Feast of St Chad, so for my Saturday Snapshot I have some photos of his well, and a couple of old photos to show what it used to like in the past. Before moving to this area I’d never heard of Chad, but it’s difficult to live here and not stumble across him somewhere, for he was Bishop of the ancient Saxon kingdom of Mercia. Tamworth, where I live, was the capital of this realm, and St Chad established his Episcopal seat at Lichfield, where I once worked on the local paper, and now volunteer in the Oxfam book shop.  

 I think about him sometimes when I’m on one of my daily walks because, according to Bede in ‘A History of the English Church and People’, he went about on foot rather than on horseback,  and was  reluctant to change this ‘pious exercise’, which he loved. His archbishop considered it more fitting that Chad should ride, and on one occasion insisted on helping him on to a horse, but I like to imagine the saint flouting the order when his superior was out of the way, and continuing to stride about the countryside. 

St Chad's Well, drawn by William Stukeley in 1736. 

He became Bishop of Mercia in 669 and immediately made Lichfield the centre of his see (rather than Repton, in Derbyshire). He built a house near the church and close by a spring fed a pool where, according to 16th century antiquarian John Leland, ‘St Chad was wont naked to stand in the water and pray’.

There is still a well in the churchyard at St Chad’s, presumably fed by the spring, but its location and form seem to have changed over the years. In 1833, local physician James Rawson described it as having ‘degenerated into a most undignified puddle, more than 6 feet deep’ and said it was choked with ‘mud and filth’. Thanks to him, the water supply was improved, and a protective octagonal building erected, which must have been far more attractive than the lacklustre garden feature erected at the end of 1940s, when the well seems to have been moved. There’s a small square of water set into drab paving slabs, covered by an unimaginative tiled roof, which perches on top of four wooden supports.

The 19th century building which covered
the well.

 St Chad died on March 2, 672 . Bede, writing some 60 years later, tells us that the burial place was covered in a wooden tomb in form of little house, with a small opening, so people could put a hand through to take some of the dust. “They mix this in water and give it to sick men or beasts to drink, by which means their ailment is quickly relieved and they are restored to the longed for joys of health,” he adds - but doesn’t say whether they used water from the well to create this macabre medicine.

Bede also describes how a wandering ‘madman’ spent a night in the church where the body was housed, and was miraculously found to be ‘in his right mind’ the following morning!

The well: people thrown coins into the water, and make a wish,
but my wish would be for it to look more like a well!

 During the Medieval period, pilgrims flocked to Lichfield Cathedral to see Chad’s shrine, but his relics were moved during the Reformation, although you can still see the Chapel of St Chad’s Head, where the Saint’s head was once displayed to the faithful, which strikes me as being a particularly grisly custom. Bones now housed at St Chad’s Cathedral in Birmingham – the Gothic extravaganza created by Pugin – are said to be those of the saint.

Saturday Snapshot is hosted by Alyce at http://athomewithbooks.net/ where you can see photos from other participants all over the world.

A statue of St Chad stands in a niche
above the door to St Chad's Church.

 Sources: http://lichfieldlore.co.uk/2012/03/18/well-being/ (an excellent site on Lichfield’s rich heritage); http://www.stchads.org.uk/ (St Chad’s Church has a website and a fascinating guidebook); http://archaeologydataservice.ac.uk/catalogue/adsdata/arch-841-1/dissemination/pdf/oxfordar1-50626_1.pdf  (report of archeological dig at the well site)

Mud, Moss and Martyrs

Happy New Year to you all! Earlier this week, on January 2, it was the Feast Day of The Thousand Holy Martyrs of Lichfield, who may – or may not – have been slain for their faith. St Amphibaus (whose existence is equally questionable) and his 999 followers were slaughtered (allegedly) on the orders of the Roman Emperor Diocletian at the start of the 4th century, on a site now known as Christian Fields (what else could it be called!). And since the area, now a Local Nature Reserve, is only a short drive away, and since I am trying to walk for at least 20 minutes every day, I thought I would pay a visit, accompanied by the Man Of The House, and I took some photos there for today's Saturday Snapshot.

At this time of year the countryside (I know this is not really the countryside, but it’s certainly not an urban area) always looks rather dead, but the bare branches against the sky looked really stunning, as did the bleached stems of grasses and other plants, and there were lots of mosses and lichens to look at. However, it was indescribably muddy, as a result of all the rain we’ve had, and highlighted how much I need a pair of decent walking boots!

 The area is right on the edge of the city, and contains the remains of a Saxon walkway known as The Dimbles – a dimble, apparently, is a raised earth walkway with a ditch on both sides. Sadly, it’s very difficult to photograph this feature, but as we wandered round it was interesting to think men and women were living and working here some 1,400 years ago.

 More recently part of the site was once used for landfill, but by the time I worked in Lichfield during the late 1990s, it had become a kind of unofficial wild area, and there was an old lady called Bertha who lived there in a caravan – a little like Alan Bennett’s ‘Lady in the Van’, I guess. She was something of a local character, and had a collection of dogs which she wheeled around in a pram.  

 These days it’s maintained by Lichfield District Council, with help from volunteers, and there’s a surprising variety of landscapes, including grassland, woods, hedges, and scrubby areas, as well as streams, and a recently created pool. Work is still being carried out to improve the site, and hopefully there will eventually be information boards to explain the history and tell visitors about the wildlife and habitats. We will certainly return during the summer, to take another look.

 Meanwhile, if you’re wondering about that story of the Martyrs, no firm evidence has ever come to light to prove they existed, although it is thought that early Christians may have met and worshipped at Christian Fields. And for many years people believed Lichfield got its name from Lyke-field, ‘ field of dead’, but it is now thought to mean  ‘common pasture beside grey wood’, which is not nearly as romantic.

 Anyway, the tale seems to have to have surfaced during the 12th century, but was largely ignored until 1548, when the city was incorporated as a borough and needed a badge, or coat of arms - what we would now call a brand image. At the same time leading citizens were concerned that the Reformation had killed off the pilgrim trade (in Medieval times people flocked to Lichfield to the shrine of St Chad, but this was no longer possible in the Protestant England of Edward VI). The city fathers must have been looking for a way to win their visitors back that wouldn’t land them in trouble for appearing to have links with Catholicism.

So, in what sounds like a pretty astute marketing ploy, they took up the tale of early Christian Martyrs, and used an image of dismembered bodies on the city’s coat of arms and the civic seal, and the massacre that may never have happened was woven into the city’s history. Whatever the truth of the matter, this particular site was used by the Anglo Saxons, and perhaps one day we may be able to discover more of its history. For more Saturday Snapshots see  Alice's blog at http://athomewithbooks.net/

Information from http://www.lichfielddc.gov.uk and http://lichfieldlore.co.uk/ 

Saturday Snapshots of a Garden Where Monks Prayed

The Friary Gardens in Lichfield mark the spot where monks
once prayed.

Stepping stones in a small park in Lichfield will lead you on a 800-year journey back in time. At first glance the paving slabs laid out in the grass alongside a busy road look as if they've been set there in random fashion – for some kind of children's game perhaps. But look again, and you realise they represent the lines of a building, and the name of the road provides a clue about its identity. For this street is The Friary, and the building which stood here was the church which served the huge friary established by Franciscan monks way back in 1237.

Paving slabs show the layout of the church.

Part of the wall at one end of the garden dates back to the Medieval period, and the little patch of 'public space' has been planted with sweet smelling flowers and shrubs. There's seating where you sit and think of the friars in their grey habits, kneeling and praying here all those years ago. And – oh joy of joys – there is an excellent information board, so full marks to Lichfield City Council for preserving the area and telling people about it.

The Bishop's Lodging - the only building left from Lichfield's
old Friary. The extension on the left-hand side of the photo is
the school built in the 1920s.

I assume the land must have belonged to the Cathedral (which is only a few minutes walk away) because Bishop Stavenby gave it to the Franciscans; the Sheriff of Lichfield was authorised to clothe them, and Henry III helped with building costs by giving them money, and trees from his forests in the area. The friars continued to enjoy royal patronage, for in 1281 Edward I donated eight trees from nearby Cannock Chase, for new buildings. In 1291 the friary, together with many other buildings in Lichfield, was destroyed by fire, but was rebuilt – this time in stone.

The gable end of the Bishop's Lodging. Where that strange little
window  came from I have no idea - I guess it was put there
 before modern planning laws were introduced.

According to the Rule of St Francis, the friars were supposed to follow a life of poverty, chastity and obedience, and to focus on preaching and looking after the poor and sick of Lichfield. But over the centuries they amassed a fortune in gifts from benefactors, which must have made them a prime target during the Dissolution of the Monasteries. The Friary closed its doors for the last time in 1538, and most of the buildings were pulled down. Glass, tiles, stone and timber from the demolished buildings were sold to raise cash for the royal coffers, alongside furniture, the monks' vestments, and even a mass book, which went for 4d (we are talking old money here, remember). The land, and those buildings which were still left were also sold – though purchasers were told to 'deface' various parts of the church.

They did try to create the 'new' school (now a library) in a period
style, with matching red brick and carvings above a bay window.

After that things become more confusing, but in 1920 Sir Richard Ashmole Cooper (MP for Walsall) bought the estate and what was left of the buildings and gave it to the City of Lichfield – for a new road to ease traffic problems. So The Friary was built across the site of the friary and the last few buildings were pulled down – with the exception of the Bishop's Lodging, which was built in 1295, and can be seen on the opposite side of the road to the little garden. The medieval house, altered over the centuries, was incorporated into a new school, but today the Bishop's Lodging, with its large 1920s extension, has become the city's library.

This ruined arch is by the carpark at Lichfield College, next to
the Bishop's Lodging, but there is no sign to indicate whether
it is part of the old Friary that once stood on the site.

All traces of the church could have been lost to development, but the fragments which lie beneath the ground became a Scheduled Ancient Monument following an archaeological dig in the 1930s, and the garden was created, with paving slabs above the cloister and parts of the north wall of the nave. There's a neo-classical portico is obviously nothing to do with the friary, but creates an imposing entrance. 

Parts of the original Friary wall can still be seen in Upper St
John Street (just around the corner from The Friary). There
are  quite large sections, which look as if generations of
builders have patched the wall up.

The Friary may have virtually vanished, but its name lives on in Lichfield: there are roads, shops, a school, sports clubs and businesses all called after it. Remnants of the friary wall can still be seen in the area, as successive generations just seem to have covered or repaired them with modern bricks. And there's a ruined arch, quite close to the Bishop's Lodging, which is generally thought to be part of the old Friary, but could be a Victorian folly. Information in this post is largely taken from the Victoria County History.   For more Saturday Snapshots see  Alice's blog at http://athomewithbooks.net/

A sign in the gardenss has a diagram and picture showing how the site would have looked. The odd blob at the bottom is my hands holding the camera - the board was a bit high for anyone who is five foot nothing to take a successful picture!