ST ANDREW. Essentially 1857 and 1894. Of the church built in 1647 no telling features remain.,- PLATE. Chalice and Paten, 1684; Paten, 1701; Paten, 1721; Almsdish, 1791; Flagon of Sheffield Plate, c. 1790.
Little Berkhamsted. Trees close in the appealing sound of the three old bells in the church’s wooden belfry, the oldest bell having Ave Maria moulded on it 600 years ago. It would be the first peal heard by Bishop Ken, for in this village he was born, and we like to think that the ancient bell may have stirred in him the message of the hymn he was to write as the years rolled on, Awake, my soul, and with the sun. . . .
The altar table in the church is a memorial to this saintly Bishop of Bath and Wells. The church was made new in his day, and has been rebuilt since, but a name from the 17th century stops us at a stone in the chancel floor, the name of Cromwell. Here lies Cromwell Fleetwood, Oliver’s grandson, whose mother Bridget married two leaders of the Parliamentary Army, first Ireton, then General Fleetwood. This grandson was married in the chancel here in 1679, but he died childless nine years later; his sister was that Bridget Ireton who, of all Oliver’s descendants, is said to have been in some ways most like him, though she was one of the most extraordinarily wild and unbalanced women ever known.
Facing the church is a charming row of wooden cottages under red roofs, and from the churchyard we see the red tower John Stratton built 300 years ago, so that from its battlements he might see his ships anchored in the Thames. It was later made into an observatory. His house, the Gage, has been much altered since it was built of Elizabethan brick and timber. Manor House Farm has also seen many changes in its three centuries, but is remarkable still for its open timber porch.
It was in the summer of 1637 that life began here for Tom Ken. After his father and mother died he lived for a time under Izaak Walton’s roof before going on to Winchester, where his name may still be seen in the cloisters. In 1663 he was living in an Essex rectory, and four years later, when he was only 30, he was a rector in the Isle of Wight, and was becoming famous as a brilliant preacher who often stirred London congregations. Living in the unsettled times of Charles II and James II, he stood for decency and right, and did not hesitate to tell kings what he thought of them; but he never lost his humility. He sailed for Tangier with Samuel Pepys, was made a bishop in 1684, attended Charles II in his last hours, and was present at the execution of Monmouth.
But he was most loved for the little things he did. He helped all who were in trouble. He gave away nearly every penny. He worked as few bishops had ever been known to work, and had 12 poor folk to dinner every Sunday. When other bishops drove in fine coaches Bishop Ken walked on foot in London’s streets.
One of the Seven Bishops sent to the Tower in 1688 for petitioning James against his Declaration of Indulgence, he soon afterwards found himself deprived of his See; and as he had never saved money and had no private income he became a poor man. Happily there were friends ready to go to his aid, and in his old age Queen Anne gave him £200 a year.
He was a little man with dark eyes, a familiar figure in London and Winchester, his hair hanging loose about his clean-shaven face. He had a winning smile, and was always courteous and kind, always eager to help. Unaffected, generous in his thoughts if sometimes quick in temper, he was as true as steel in all his dealings with others.
He is remembered best of all today for one or two hymns still sung in chapel and cathedral. He died in 1711, having been taken ill in Dorset, and setting out for Bath, found himself unable to go beyond Longleat, the great house of his friend Lord Weymouth. There in a few days his long life ended and he was buried on the first day of spring at the east end of Frome Church. His funeral took place, at his own request, at sunrise, and those who followed him to his last resting-place must have been thinking of the famous hymn he wrote for the scholars of Winchester:
Awake, my soul, and with the sun
Thy daily stage of duty run.
Everyone knows Bishop Ken’s evening hynm, beginning:
Glory to Thee, my God, this night,
For all the blessings of the light:
Keep me, O keep me, King of kings,
Beneath Thine own almighty wings.
In both hymns is the famous verse known as the Doxology:
Praise God from Whom all blessings flow,
Praise Him all creatures here below;
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host,
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
No verse has been sung more often than this throughout the world it may be said that these four lines of Tom Ken have been on every body’s lips at some time or other.
The altar table in the church is a memorial to this saintly Bishop of Bath and Wells. The church was made new in his day, and has been rebuilt since, but a name from the 17th century stops us at a stone in the chancel floor, the name of Cromwell. Here lies Cromwell Fleetwood, Oliver’s grandson, whose mother Bridget married two leaders of the Parliamentary Army, first Ireton, then General Fleetwood. This grandson was married in the chancel here in 1679, but he died childless nine years later; his sister was that Bridget Ireton who, of all Oliver’s descendants, is said to have been in some ways most like him, though she was one of the most extraordinarily wild and unbalanced women ever known.
Facing the church is a charming row of wooden cottages under red roofs, and from the churchyard we see the red tower John Stratton built 300 years ago, so that from its battlements he might see his ships anchored in the Thames. It was later made into an observatory. His house, the Gage, has been much altered since it was built of Elizabethan brick and timber. Manor House Farm has also seen many changes in its three centuries, but is remarkable still for its open timber porch.
It was in the summer of 1637 that life began here for Tom Ken. After his father and mother died he lived for a time under Izaak Walton’s roof before going on to Winchester, where his name may still be seen in the cloisters. In 1663 he was living in an Essex rectory, and four years later, when he was only 30, he was a rector in the Isle of Wight, and was becoming famous as a brilliant preacher who often stirred London congregations. Living in the unsettled times of Charles II and James II, he stood for decency and right, and did not hesitate to tell kings what he thought of them; but he never lost his humility. He sailed for Tangier with Samuel Pepys, was made a bishop in 1684, attended Charles II in his last hours, and was present at the execution of Monmouth.
But he was most loved for the little things he did. He helped all who were in trouble. He gave away nearly every penny. He worked as few bishops had ever been known to work, and had 12 poor folk to dinner every Sunday. When other bishops drove in fine coaches Bishop Ken walked on foot in London’s streets.
One of the Seven Bishops sent to the Tower in 1688 for petitioning James against his Declaration of Indulgence, he soon afterwards found himself deprived of his See; and as he had never saved money and had no private income he became a poor man. Happily there were friends ready to go to his aid, and in his old age Queen Anne gave him £200 a year.
He was a little man with dark eyes, a familiar figure in London and Winchester, his hair hanging loose about his clean-shaven face. He had a winning smile, and was always courteous and kind, always eager to help. Unaffected, generous in his thoughts if sometimes quick in temper, he was as true as steel in all his dealings with others.
He is remembered best of all today for one or two hymns still sung in chapel and cathedral. He died in 1711, having been taken ill in Dorset, and setting out for Bath, found himself unable to go beyond Longleat, the great house of his friend Lord Weymouth. There in a few days his long life ended and he was buried on the first day of spring at the east end of Frome Church. His funeral took place, at his own request, at sunrise, and those who followed him to his last resting-place must have been thinking of the famous hymn he wrote for the scholars of Winchester:
Awake, my soul, and with the sun
Thy daily stage of duty run.
Everyone knows Bishop Ken’s evening hynm, beginning:
Glory to Thee, my God, this night,
For all the blessings of the light:
Keep me, O keep me, King of kings,
Beneath Thine own almighty wings.
In both hymns is the famous verse known as the Doxology:
Praise God from Whom all blessings flow,
Praise Him all creatures here below;
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host,
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
No verse has been sung more often than this throughout the world it may be said that these four lines of Tom Ken have been on every body’s lips at some time or other.
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