“improvers” we might have had much more; but sadly they had a penchant for “scraping” all plaster from internal stonework, taking the concealed paintwork with it. Ironically, Hardham’s paintings began to be uncovered during the Victorian era in 1866.
Various injudicious conservation treatments did much more harm than good, causing darkening and blistering. What the Church Guide calls “more sympathetic” treatment was carried out between 1961 and 1963 but nevertheless some detail was lost. Further work was carried out in the eighties and nineties using the best techniques available. Whatever has been lost, the survival of what remains is near-miraculous. Definitely a case of glass being rather more than half-full.
In their completeness, Hardham’s paintings enable us not only to visualise the extent of the paintwork in mediaeval churches but also to gain an insight into the preoccupations of post-Conquest Christianity. It presents a “scheme” rather than series of individual paintings chosen by painter or patron and may be contrasted with the freedom asserted by mediaeval stonemasons to carve more or less what they liked on the exterior of churches in a riotous outpouring of the mediaeval imagination. We must assume that the Lewes School painters received clerical guidance. It seems unlikely that they had a free hand or, indeed, the scriptural knowledge to exercise one. Pevsner reported the possibility that the designs were taken from manuscripts such as the Caedmon Manuscript of around AD1000.
Not the least of the factors contributing to the artistic treasure here must be that like many in West Sussex this church has been virtually unchanged since it was built in the eleventh century, probably around AD1050. As with Selham and some other West Sussex churches, there is a debate to be had about whether it is “Anglo-Saxon” or “Norman” but all can agree that it is just before or after the Conquest so this is literally an academic point, although most money - my own included - is on Pre-Conquest’; and the village has a long Pre-Conquest history that goes back to Roman times. It has a simple two-celled design. The original windows high in the chancel and nave walls are tiny and surrounded by large jamb stones. The exterior is whitewashed but these jamb stones have been left visible, providing a chocolate box-perfect look. It really is the simplest of churches. The round chancel arch is totally plain and without any decoration.
Beneath the whitewash you can clearly discern the rough undressed stonework of the walls. There has been a minimal amount of refenestration so what you see today – with the exception of the Victorian porch bell tower - is pretty much what you would have seen a thousand years ago. It is a very exciting church indeed. To the south side of the chancel is a filled in squint that it is all that remains of an anchorite cell. Many such sites are somewhat speculative but it is known that in 1253 St Richard of Chichester bequeathed money to the anchorite of the time so its provenance seems unimpeachable. It should be noted, however, that anchoritism was vested in the individual, not in the building: that it to say that the death of an incumbent did not necessarily lead to the immuration of a successor. The status of anchorite was a serious matter requiring authorisation from a bishop and was taken anything but lightly as we know from the anchorhold at Shere in Surrey.
Oddly, Pevsner’s first edition said of the paintings: “…so much has faded at Hardham that except in one or two places there is not much more than a confused blur of red and yellow ochre…”. As that edition was written in 1965 it seems likely that his description here did not reflect the almost simultaneous conservation work that was in progress. Today the Church Guide can identify almost every element of the work and opines that what it playfully calls “the distinctive bacon and egg palette” results from the use of cheap locally-available pigments: red and yellow ochre, lime white and carbon black. Blue(ish) is a mixture of while and black. Only the limited greens are a result from more expensive malachite. The paintings are in two tiers and tower, arch and diaper patterns separate the various scenes.
There is little point in my slavishly paraphrasing the text of the excellent written commentary available at the church so I will confine myself to captioning my own pictures. I will, however, reproduce verbatim the church’s own description of the scheme: “…(it) comprises five basic elements: Adam and Eve scenes on the chancel west wall; a very long Christological cycle, mainly of the Infancy and Passion, in the chancel ands nave; judgment and apocalyptic subject matter, including hell scenes which cover the entire west wall; and Labours of the Month, beside the chancel arch”.
For anyone serious in their interest in parish church development or in post-Conquest art and spirituality, Hardham and neighbouring Clayton have to be on the “must visit” list.
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