History in the making at parish church

The congregation of Our Lady and St Benedict’s Catholic Church in Ampleforth village has been invited to this service by the vicar of Ampleforth, the Rev Sue Bond, in whose benefice Stonegrave lies. She will deliver the homily, and mass will be celebrated by Fr Bonaventure Knollys, a Benedictine monk of Ampleforth Abbey, who is also the parish priest at Our Lady and St Benedict’s.

The tiny church at Stonegrave, capable of seating a congregation of perhaps 70 or so, is one of the oldest in this region, with records dating to about 757. It has a long Catholic history that spans some tumultuous times and in the past – and even today – it is widely known as Stonegrave Minster. This title has little to do with age or size, but is more concerned with its earlier functions – not far away is Kirkdale Minster, near Kirkbymoorside, another small but very old village church.

The term “minster” is thought to date to the 17th century when it was derived from the Latin monasterium, which meant a monastery, nunnery, mother church or cathedral. It signified religious people who were living a communal life while being endowed by charter with the task of maintaining prayer through daily masses, along with the duty of teaching the gospel.

Many minsters of the 17th century were created through royal foundation charters and were therefore of considerable importance. They appeared in England shortly after St Augustine was sent by the Pope to become the first Archbishop of Canterbury and, here in the North, it is recorded that King Oswy of Northumbria endowed 12 small minsters during 654-5. A burst of new monasteries followed throughout England, when regional kings made grants of land while naming the individuals they wished to found a minster to house a religious community.

With its own long history, it seems Stonegrave Minster was one of those early minsters, already well established by 757. We know that because Pope Paul I wrote to the king of Northumbria to object about the appointment of lay abbots in three monasteries, one of which was Stonegrave.

So where exactly was that monastery? There is little doubt that one did function near the present church and there are reports of building foundations being found in nearby fields, although no formal excavation has been attempted. It is also suggested that at one stage Stonegrave Minster had an upper floor which housed the monks. It does seem to have been a very busy monastic establishment.

The age and survival of this lovely old church has attracted learned research down the centuries but nonetheless much of its early history remains uncertain. It seems that the oldest part of the tower dates to Anglo-Saxon times and the church does contain a remarkable Saxon cross.

Such crosses were known as wheel crosses due to their circular design on the top of elaborately carved pillars, and it is thought they stood outside the church building to mark Christian burials at sites where no church had been built. I believe that these wheel crosses were peculiar to the north of England, with the one at Stonegrave being unique.

Many of our old churches, along with monasteries and nunneries, suffered drastically during raids by the Danes and other Norsemen, and again when William the Conqueror plundered the north of England and laid waste to a vast area, including nearby Nunnington. Somewhat inexplicably, the tiny church at Stonegrave survived.

The conqueror gave land at Stonegrave to Ralph Pagnel but as he did not live there Pagnel appointed a family called de Stonegrave to be tenants of the moated manor house to the south of the church. That house disappeared long ago but the de Stonegrave family set about repairing the damaged church with stone quarried nearby.

Although indications of Anglo-Saxon stonework remain in the tower and elsewhere, much of the construction of the present church was due to the Normans. After 1066, the chancel was extended to end in an apse, the north aisle was opened, internal pillars were built and the elderly tower was probably reinforced.

There is no doubt that the effects of the Reformation, with the destruction of small monasteries, led to a decline in the fortunes of Stonegrave Minster. It seems that the Catholic mass continued here for a few years after Henry VIII’s break from the Pope, but actions by his nine-year son and successor, Edward VI, led to wholesale destruction and vandalism of any church that retained Catholic artefacts or was used for the celebration of mass. But that is another story.

Like so many other parish churches, Stonegrave’s historic little minster was virtually rebuilt in the latter half of the 19th century and it re-opened in 1863. It contains a beautiful Jacobean screen and pulpit which somehow survived the Edwardine Visitations and there is no doubt it is one of the jewels of North Yorkshire, and Ryedale in particular.

Among my recent correspondence, I have received an interesting letter from a reader who lives at Neasham, near Darlington. He refers to an earlier Countryman’s Diary which I published on March 16 this year, and makes particular references to my notes about elder trees, once known as eller, which have given rise to place-names such as Ellerton and Ellerby.

My correspondent is an expert on all aspects of trees, including the surrounding folklore, and he grows many specimens. He tells me he is creating a plantation of walnut trees to mark the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee, and he also hopes to reach 100 different species of oak – he has grown about 90 so far!

Most kindly, he has sent me copies of his researchers into the lore and lives of trees, which I am sure will prompt some future articles on this page.

However, he tells me that the word “eller” actually refers to alder trees, not elders, adding that the alder is the only hardwood deciduous tree that produces cones.

A correspondent from West Witton in Wensleydale has written about his observations of a determined male chaffinch who was attacking his own reflection in the house windows. I have witnessed a similar incident, where a male chaffinch spent hours attacking its reflection in our garage windows and recently, the Times published a photograph of a blue tit attacking its own image in a car’s wing mirror. I think these birds are defending their territories and perhaps their mates against other chaffinches, but sadly haven’t learned the secret of mirrors.

The same correspondent refers to my notes about the superstition surrounding the number 13 and tells me that in Hong Kong and perhaps some Far Eastern countries, the numbering of floors in high-rise buildings ignores number 13 and even avoids 12a. They are numbered from 12 to 14 and do not count ground floors, beginning their numbering from the first floor, unless there is a basement.