Buxlow

St Peter, Buxlow

Of all Suffolk, this is the outback. Here, we are beyond the back of beyond. North of the Saxmundham to Leiston road, a tiny lane threads between flat fields. On this late November day, the sun had neglected to rise, and the rains of the last week were smoothing the topsoil across the roads as if attempting to erase them. My bike threw the mud up, spattering my clothes, face and hair, and it seemed that I was unlikely to be welcomed at the Friston Chequers in this state.

An old bloke with a dog appeared over the rise. He was the colour of the mud. While the dog went mental, I checked my watch to see if, in my urban manner, I should wish him a cursory 'morning' or 'afternoon'. But as I got closer, he lifted his hat and said "How d'ye do there?" and I realised how far I had come.

I was obviously the first person he had seen for days, and he seemed agreeably pleased. And, perhaps, a little relieved, as if he had been entertaining a secret fear that some disaster had wiped out the rest of humanity, and he was the only one left. His dog was certainly unfamiliar with strangers, and leapt madly around me, rejoicing.

I headed on, and it began to rain again, as if the sky had come down to join me. All the colours became one. I wiped the water from my face, looking for a footpath marked on the map that headed off eastwards of here. It would lead me, I hoped, to the remains of St Peter, Buxlow.

Quite a lot is known about St Peter. It survived the Reformation, and Rectors were still being presented to the living as late as the 1620s. However, it doesn't seem to have survived the supression of the Church of England during the Commonwealth, for after the Restoration in 1660 no further Rectors are found. Perhaps the village was already too tiny to need it; whatever, in 1722 the Parish was consolidated with that of Knodishall, and St Peter was demolished for building materials.

I was pleased to discover that the footpath was, in fact, a cycleable track. It led after about a quarter of a mile to a 19th century brick house, which was promisingly called 'Church Cottage'. The footpath continued into the field beyond. Somewhat surreally, the giant golf ball of Sizewell B Nuclear Reactor simmered on the horizon. No church to be seen here; but when I turned back to face the cottage, there was an ancient flint-stratified remnant in the back garden of it. I had found St Peter.

St Peter, looking rather shabby, frankly, in this cottage garden.

The ruin consists of the eastern face of the round tower; that is to say, the part that would have been inside the church. The top of the tower arch has collapsed, leaving it looking like a decayed tooth, about 4 metres high and 3 metres wide. The opening seems to line up exactly on the nuclear power station, probably giving credence to some crackpot conspiracy theory that God was an astronaut, or something.

Looking at the golfball dome again, I was sure I could see it glowing faintly. Maybe the old bloke with the dog was right to worry.

To find the ruins of St Peter, Buxlow, go down the lane opposite the turning to Knodishall off of the Saxmundham to Leiston road. After about half a mile, a track across the fields leads to two cottages. Go between the cottages, and then look back. It seems to be on private land.