Churches that aren’t

November 30, 2023

I enjoy photographing church interiors – the bigger the church – the more I enjoy it. So buildings like Norwich Cathedral, Ely Cathedral or even Southwell Minster have all figured on this blog in the past. Then just over two years ago I wrote a blog called “churches that aren’t” which described three ruined churches in the Norfolk Broads area which were very incomplete. Last summer I heard about a small but rather distinctive church building which is certainly intact, but which is no longer in use. It is St Nicholas Church Buckenham Fen.

What intrigued me was not why was it disused, but why it was there in the first place. It is situated in the middle of fields and now totally hidden by trees.

It is a very impressive little church with a wonderful octagonal tower (there are only 5 of them in Norfolk). A Norman doorway hints that part of the building is older than the 14^th century features which dominate the nave and chancel.

But there’s no one around – there is no obvious village. Inside there is a brick floor and pastel green walls. A plain table serves as the altar – there is a rather plain wooden pulpit and wonderful box pews.

The Georgians used the tracery pattern of a window to create a sort of stone screen. Clearly there had been some Victorian restoration, but the building is a complete mixture of architectural styles.

I enjoyed seeing the small organ, which I gather sort of works, or at least bits of it do.

The Rector of the parish of Buckenham in the 1850s was the Revd Thomas Beachamp.

In a religious census of worship in 1851, he recorded a congregation of 55 people. Given that the total population of Buckenham was only 56 that seems remarkable. However the record shows that 20 pupils from a local Dame School were obliged to be there, so that probably accounts for such an impressive total.

For me it is a place of sadness. The memorials and the tombstones erected in “loving memory…” memories of course which could not be preserved, but erected with such dedication. Former generations now lost – and or course we, simply line up to join them, probably without even the tombstone to jolt the awareness.