Eyke

All Saints, Eyke

This village straggles the busy road between Woodbridge and Snape; since the closure of the nearby American airbase, it is much quieter than it used to be. At first sight, this is a simple, if uneven, little church, somewhat barnlike in its ancient graveyeard. Tall elm trees around it are home to jackdaws and rooks; their cries fill the air as they wheel above you. A great yew carresses the south of the nave. The modern little porch gives no indication that you are about to enter one of the most fascinating churches in Suffolk.

All Saints from the south east. Note the lancets, and the curious buttress in the east wall of the nave. Hmm...

As you step down into the square nave (in fact, it appears wider than it is long!) the first thing you will notice is the gorgeous pair of Norman chancel arches. One is about 10 feet to the east of the other, with a low ceilure between them. Beyond that, the chancel opens up, its height accentuating the lowness of the arches.

The double arches, and the chancel beyond. Note the arches to south and north. Cruciform? Tripartite? You choose.

These arches are at the base of what was once a central tower, and almost no indication remains of it from the outside now. Mortlock thought that this had once been a cruciform church, in which case the south chapel leading off here was a south transept, now forming a sanctuary to the south aisle of the nave. Cautley considered a tripartite arrangement more likely, largely on the strength of the arches only having mouldings on the western side. One of the lower tower windows can still be seen on the eastern face from within the chancel, and looks most curious. A bell rope disappears up into the ceilure, reminding one rather of a similar arrangement at Dallinghoo.

You will notice that, although the western arch only has one band of chevrons, the eastern arch has two. If you look closely at the nave roof immediately in front of the western arch, you will see traces of paint; evidence of a one-time canopy of honour to the now-vanished rood.

Edward Hakewill carried out the restoration here in the 1860s, and it is undoubtedly a good one. He is responsible for the angels on the wall plate of the nave. The south aisle isn't really an aisle at all, more a completion of the square between original nave and south transept.

The eastern arch, with the Darling pulpit to the left. The strange grid is a candle holder.

The view into the nave from below the eastern chancel arch. You have to come this far west to see absolutely anybody. Note Hakewill's tiles and west window - a taste of the Early English.

The south transept (if such it was) had been a chantry chapel, often referred to as the Bavents Chantry. A village called Easton Bavents existed not far from here, but is now lost to the sea.

Hakewill is also responsible for the fine west window, but the woodwork in the church is rather more recent, and an interesting story pertains to it.

Like several other Suffolk churches, including Waldringfield across the estuary, a family dynasty of vicars was responsible for the Anglican revival in this parish. These were the Darlings, pere et fils. They held this living for 80 years, between 1859 and 1939. The father oversaw Hakewill's restoration of what had become a near-derelict church.

The son, who took over in 1893, had a passion for woodcarving. He taught his parishioners the skill at night classes in the village school. Between them, the villagers produced the benches, font cover, organ case, chapel screen and reredos.

If you look at the bench ends, you will find the Darling's pet dog, and some other unusual animals, including a squirrel and a penguin. The pulpit is Darling's memorial.

The parish's most famous treasure, the 15th century Eyke key, is now in the British Museum. Its wards are shaped to make the word IKE, an alternative form of the village name. I was disappointed to discover that the doorlock has been changed since, but I suppose retention of the original would have made this the easiest of all churches to break into! A fibre-glass copy hangs on the wall.

I visited this church on New Years Day 2000, and was pleased to be the first person to sign the visitors book. The nice lady practicing the organ was rather concerned that I'd arrived too late for the service; I explained that, as a Catholic, we'd had our mass the evening before, and she seemed satisfied with this arrangement.

She told me that one of the Rev. Darling's daughters was still alive, and occasionally visits. Unfortunately, the church currently has no vicar, but it soldiers on, with a regular congregation of 10 or so. "Mind you, we were packed for Christmas", she said. We both bemoaned the fact that so many churches were locked without a keyholder. "People need to be able to come into the church on their terms, not ours", she observed. "Who knows, some of them might come back on a Sunday".

The Eyke key - or should that be Ike?

We agreed that people are unlikely to turn up at a service without having visited the church on their own first; more ammunition for my argument that a locked church is a dying church.

All Saints, Eyke, can be found on the A1152 Woodbridge to Snape road. If it is locked, a key is available from the Village Stores across the road. See MAP