The large combined village of Barham and
Claydon sits to the north of Ipswich. It has two hilltop
churches, half a mile apart at each end of the village
above the high street. St Peter at Claydon, the more
southerly of the two, sits by bungalows, new housing and
Claydon High School. But it was declared redundant in the
1970s, and Barham church, out on the western edge on the
way to Hemingstone, serves the whole community alone. Its
dedication of St Mary has been extended to include that
of Claydon church.
The hilltop setting here is quite different to that of
the church that formerly served the Claydon part of the
parish. Here, the church is above the houses, above the
village, in a vast open graveyard, one of the biggest in
Suffolk. You climb the narrow lane up the hill, and then
cross from the corner of the graveyard to the big church.
There is a comfortable bulkiness to the church, the
massive south tower forming a porch as many do in the
Ipswich area. The southern face of it has been generously
decorated with flushwork, the first indication of the
thorough yet restrained 1860s restoration by Edward
Hakewill. Curiously, the nave has a clerestory on the
south side, but no aisle. The view from the west is
singular, the tower/porch balanced across the stark
western face of the nave by the modern meeting room on
the highest point to the north. The early 16th Century
terracotta window on the north side of the vestry was
probably made at the same time as those of the original
Shrublands Hall - there is another one in the church at
Henley nearby. The reason for its location will be
revealed inside.
At one time, Barham church was kept locked, and there was
a very good reason for this, as we shall see. But CCTV
has been installed, and since the end of July 2019 the
church has been open every day. You step beneath the
tower down into a richly coloured interior. Hakewill's
restoration has been softened by the feel of the
ritualism of the early part of the 20th Century. The
western end of the nave is raised and carpeted to form a
baptistry, the font a 19th Century reimagining of the
kind of wide fonts of the early 14th Century that you
more commonly find outside of East Anglia, in areas where
no 15th Century wealth could provide a replacement.
Although there is no south aisle, the Middleton chapel
forms a raised aisle on the north side of the church. The
aisle was built by the custodians of Shrublands Hall, and
what is now the vestry at the eastern end of the aisle
was their chantry chapel, hence the placing of the
terracotta window. The western end of the aisle has been
enclosed by part of the 15th Century roodscreen, and
between the two sits one of the most striking objects in
any Suffolk church. This is the Claydon war memorial, a
1948 sculpture of the Madonna and Child, by Henry Moore.
It was moved here under Moore's direction when Claydon
church closed and the two parishes combined. It must have
been quite something, getting it in and out the churches,
up and down the hills. Mary sits patiently, quietly, her
arms relaxed but encircling her son protectively,
pondering things in her heart.
The chancel was largely rebuilt in the 19th
Century, and obviously intended for shadowy, ritualist
worship. However, it still contains a tall mid-17th
Century memorial with the recumbent figures of John and
Margaret Southwell. If moving Henry Moore's work from one
end of the village to the other in the 1970s seems an
extraordinary feat, then consider the inscription on the
Southwell monument, which reveals that this memorial
is sente over from the cittie of Limrick Ireland by Sir
Richard Southwell K second sonne of John Southwell of
Barham Esq and Margrett his wife as a pious remembrance
of them to be left to their posteri(tie) An Do 1640.
She raises herself on one elbow, looking into the face of
her husband who stares heavenward, holding a small skull
in her left hand.
The sanctuary is beautifully ordered with what appears to
be 17th Century panelling and a painted reredos designed
to suit it. Enclosing the sanctuary, the communion rails
are striking and memorable. They are richly carved with
angels, sea creatures, flowers and fruit, and one panel
is dated 1700. Mortlock thought they were probably
Italian. Do they perhaps show another connection with
Shrublands Hall? The glass is largely by Ward &
Hughes for Hakewill's restoration, and if it is not
exciting it contributes to a harmonious whole. The
exception is a rather good window set high in the
clerestory. The vinework suggests it is by Powell &
Sons. It depicts Christ with his hand on the head of a
small child, and remembers Henry Pye Phillips who died at
the age of ten in 1895. Oddly, the glass is not glazed
into the clerestory as you might expect, but set in front
if it.
Barham church provides a stark contrast with the church
at Claydon, now in the care of the Churches Conservation
Trust, looked after but no longer home to a community.
And half a mile to the south of Claydon church is a third
church, St Mary Akenham, also now redundant and in the
care of the Churches Conservation Trust. In contrast with
its neighbours Akenham is a lost and lonely place, half a
mile from the nearest road with only an abandoned
farmhouse and a couple of cottages for company. As the
survivor of the three, Barham church now serves a
community of not far short of 6,000 people, and it is
obvious to any visitor that is well-used and well-loved,
a happy eventuality.
