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GHOSTS OF WROXETER
by
Pauline Smith
Stourbridge
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During
the summer of 1993 I decided to take my mother on a tour of
some of the old churches for which Shropshire is famed.
Starting with Moreton Corbet which is in a beautiful location
and which, as you enter, fills you with a sense of peace, tranquility
and holiness. I enjoyed listening to mother's re-telling of
the story of the of the Corbet family and the curse put upon
the Corbet who built the unfinished mansion on the site of the
old Moreton Corbet castle.
We then moved on to Haughmond Abbey where we enjoyed a picnic
lunch and spent an hour exploring the ruins of this once majestic
building and where my mother put me to shame by how quickly
and knowledgeably she related it's history.
The next stop was Wroxeter, to the church of St. Andrew. Built
from an admixture of coloured stones including some material
taken from the adjacent Roman city of Viriconium. The gateposts
of St. Andrew's church are two Roman columns. St. Andrew's was
mentioned in the Doomsday Book of 1086 when it housed four priests.
In the year of 1347 St. Andrew's was given over to Haughmond
Abbey. Ironically, the decorations on the tower were taken from
Haughmond Abbey after the dissolution in 1539.
The interior of the church is also a jigsaw of varying periods,
some Anglo Saxon, some Elizabethan and also Jacobean. Most of
the tombs in the chancel still boast glorious colour which has
survived the centuries.
I had visited Wroxeter church twice previously, each time accompanied
by a friend. On both occasions the day had been warm and sunny
and yet on both occasions there was a sudden drop in the temperature
of the already cold church, although on the second visit the
atmosphere was more oppressive and sinister. On both occasions
my friends and I left hurriedly but I was determined to return
at a later date and this was the first time since then that
the opportunity had arisen.
This time we wandered round the church, mother admiring the
craftsmanship of the stonemasons and the colours on the tombs,
remarking on the fact that one of the effigies had no hands.
I laughingly said (as I had on the two previous visits) and
being in the accounting business myself, that perhaps the gentleman
concerned had been caught "with his fingers in the till".
Suddenly, the temperature dropped and their was an icy chill,
making us both shiver although the sun was streaming in through
the large stained glass window. A feeling of gloom pervaded
the whole building and the feeling of an unwelcoming presence
was intense. We left rapidly, both shaken by the experience.
Pondering on the day's events and knowing that so many Roman
artifacts have been found and so much Roman material used in
the building of the church I wondered if the ancient Gods, once
worshipped by the Roman invaders may still haunt the area, perhaps
to watch over the dead legions whose ghostly souls still march
the lanes, searching for new ground to conquer.
Another theory is that I upset the spirit of the effigy of the
gentleman with no hands. I wonder. |
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BLAST
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Youth
arts in Shropshire. |
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