Last updated on September 19th, 2024 at 09:50 am
Someone on Twitter was talking about Ashby St Ledgers. This is a small, attractive, village in Northamptonshire, famous for being home to the Catesby family and for its associations with the Gunpowder Plot. Then I remembered a brief winter’s morning visit to the peaceful old church, and that it is dedicated to St Leodegarius. Leodegarius is not a particularly common dedication in Britain. Indeed, I can find only one other, in Basford, Nottingham, though there is one Leodegar each in Lincolnshire and West Sussex.
The Catesbys, who used to worship at the church, were wealthy landowners in medieval Warwickshire and Northamptonshire. In 1375, the manor of Ashby St Ledgers passed to them by marriage, from the Cranfords. Sir William Catesby (born c1450), Richard III’s ‘Catte’, served as both Chancellor of the Exchequer and Speaker of the House and was one of the king’s principal councillors. He fought alongside Richard at the Battle of Bosworth in 1485 – and was subsequently beheaded in Leicester for his trouble. Somehow, he managed to be buried in his local church, where he was given a jolly nice brass memorial (pictured below). For a short while, the Catesbys lost their estates; but these were returned in 1498. In 1508, the family sold a little property of theirs – Althorp – to the Spencers (who still live in it). Life went on. Then, over a very short period of 70 years or so, England transformed from a staunchly Roman Catholic society into a mainly Protestant one in which Catholics had become a persecuted minority. Catholics in later Tudor England could not legally hear Mass, be baptised or married according to Catholic rite, or receive the sacrament on their deathbed. Holding public office was subject to taking the Oath of Supremacy, swearing allegiance to the monarch as the supreme head of the Church of England. It was easy for 16th century English Catholics to be traitors, the penalty for which was death.
Nevertheless, die-hard Catholics throughout the land hung onto their beliefs. Recusancy – a label for Catholics originating from a refusal to attend Anglican services – was strong amongst some of the older families, particularly those in the north, west and English midlands – including the Catesbys. And it was Robert Catesby, (born c1572), a descendent of William and a charismatic fanatic, who is thought to have been the leader of the infamous Gunpowder Plot of 1605. Much of the planning for what we would today consider a barbaric terrorist attack, followed by a coup d’état, took place in the manor’s gatehouse, just next door to the church. After Guy Fawkes was taken in the early hours of 5th November, six of the plotters, including Catesby, met that evening on the outskirts of Ashby St Ledgers, before galloping off in a vain attempt to gather sympathisers to their lost cause. So Ashby St Ledgers was where the gunpowder plotters plotted; they would have known this church.
By 1611, the Catesbys had gone from Ashby St Ledgers. After passing through various hands, in 1903 the manor was purchased by Ivor Guest, Viscount Wimborne. It was sold by his son, fell into disrepair, and the house was re-purchased by his grandson, another Ivor Guest and the 4th Viscount Wimborne. It is not open to the public, but is available for private hire; the wider estate is now owned by the Crown.
Back to the church. It dates from the 12th century, but is mostly 14th and 15th centuries. St Leodegarius, Leodegar – or Leger – was a 7th century Bishop of Autun, who had his eyes gouged and his tongue cut out, before later being decapitated. It was much tougher being a bishop in those days. What Leodegarius had to do with the small village of Ascebi (Ashby) in England is anyone’s guess. His feast day is 2 October and, unsurprisingly, he is the patron saint of eye problems.
The church has an astonishing number of medieval wall paintings, including a depiction of the flagellation of St Margaret dated at 1325, 14th and 15th century frescos illustrating the Passion above the chancel, a 15th century fresco of St Christopher and a 16th century cartoon, apparently representing the Black Death, posing as the sexton. Can you imagine what a cheerful place this must have been, once upon a time? I am only sorry I didn’t take more photos, to help you sleep at night.
There is a beautiful carved rood screen from 1500, installed by George Catesby (son of William) in thanks for the return of the estate in 1498. The pews at the front of the church are 14th century; the box pews and the triple pulpit are 17th century. Brasses, including several commemorating members of the Catesby family, have somehow survived the centuries.
Overall, the church at Ashby St Ledgers is a treasure-trove. I particularly liked the lovely 19th century east window, which depicts the nativity, the risen Christ and the three Marys at the tomb.
Despite the puritanical plainness of the church today, it has a huge amount of atmosphere. The surviving frescos hint at what it may have looked like when Robert Catesby’s parents were married there. I wonder what he would make of it all now? Standing in the peace of his old family church, visions of the carnage that would have ensued had the Gunpowder Plot succeeded seemed particularly offensive to me. Yet Catholics, Protestants and others were cruelly treated all over Europe. Four hundred years on, a Catholic is still unable to be monarch in the United Kingdom – for the simple, understandable, reason that the monarch is head of the Church of England. But, by and large, Britain is now a largely secular society; like all civilised countries, it is justifiably proud of a religious tolerance that in theory allows all faiths to worship and for everyone to be equal under the Law. However, thousands have died along the way and bigotry, still present in some quarters, is easily inflamed. I like to think that the ghosts in Ashby St Ledgers would be profoundly sad, and worried, that there are yet those in the 21st century who exhibit a frighteningly medieval mindset of tribalism, cruelty and unreasoning fanaticism, often based on a warped religious doctrine.
For more about the church of the Blessed Virgin Mary and St Leodegarius, visit Ashby St Ledgers on the National Churches Trust’s website.
For more about the manor, see the website for Ashby Manor House.
For a bit about the Gunpowder Plot, check out Terror plot planned in peaceful village.
Hello, Canada calling.!! Just had to add how absolutely captivated we were when we visited your beautiful area a couple of years ago. We’re a Yorkshire crew who emigrated to Canada but brought the kids back for a visit to try to explain the whole Guy Fawkes Era. I’ll never forget the look on our sons face when he beheld its entrance way – I hope the old door still stands!! – and the painting and the gravestones literally blew him away, the age, the condition of those windows and awe inspiring church itself. I have thought of it with great pleasure many times since.
That’s great, Lynne. I think it’s pretty amazing too! Thanks so much for taking the trouble to say something – i hope you enjoy the rest of A Bit About Britain.
That Black Death painting is pretty creepy
I think so too.
Boy, that skeleton is a creepy bit of doodle! Sounds like a jolly spot! But the post was really interesting — lots of meaty info here. The Catesby name is familiar to me but I don’t know why — none of the rest of it was! (Maybe someone named a character in a book Catesby — sounds like someone you’d find in a good murder mystery!) Cheers!
I think it was the butler.
interesting read on this part of history 🙂
Thank you.
How interesting, Mike.
The barbaric cruelty of our past is a frightening, haunting thought.
I remember my one and only visit to York Dungeons with the family, it looked and felt so real. I left the place visibly shaken, fearful and tearful. My son Joshua was about eight or nine at the time and he felt it too. The rest of the family were fine.
They’re a terrible lot in York, Sue.
It does seem a very interesting place, Mike. So, they owned Althorp! That’s interesting. And the connection to Richard III – all very interesting. Would more photos have really been – scary? Good grief. A very pretty window!
Absolutely, Lisa – I had to censor them.
A fascinating church. Most interesting. I assume St Leogarius gave his name, somehow, to the St Leger horse race.
Apparently, the horse thing was invented by Anthony St Leger, an 18thC soldier and MP.
I stand corrected, Mike.
I looked it up 🙂
Hi Mike – that church is most definitely worth a visit … when I get up to that neck of the woods again … fascinating to know about … and I’d love to see the wall paintings, and all – interesting history … cheers Hilary
I’m always amazed so many paintings have survived.
A beautiful place. I also wish you’d taken more photos of the wall paintings. I tend to go overboard with such things myself.
In truth, April, I was in a hurry and the photos were terrible!
I think it’s hard to take a good photo of wall paintings. The light is usually pretty dreadful and pews tend to make it impossible to find a good angle.
True!
Old South Church in Boston is 350 years old, something I can wrap my head around. The churches in Britain are beautiful, and their ancient years are a wonder to me. I love history, old churches, architecture, and your wonderful posts (like this one) that bring them to life. Thank you, Mike.
Thanks, Jennie. I confess I find it hard to pass an old church without going in – some of them are kind of microcosms of our story.
I would never be able to pass one by without stopping in! BTW, I have written a blog post about you and your lovely comment. I’ll post it on Saturday.
A lot of history for a relatively small place. Very interesting post Mike!
Thanks, Peter. A place at the heart of our history – like so many.
Quite a story!
It certainly is!
Golly! St Ledgers did indeed meet a gruesome end. Maybe that served as some kind of inspiration for the gruesome effect the gunpowder plotters were trying to unleash. Interesting to wonder why St Ledgers was canonized – was it because they could make a martyr of him and the powers that were wanted to inspire the masses to self-sacrifice. But also his opposition to Manichaean seems important. It is interesting to ponder how different European history could have been if the Roman church had failed to crush Manichaean.
I had forgotten about the Manichees, to be honest. But I doubt St L’s story had much bearing on the plotters – they really wanted the freedom to worship in their way and were prepared to attempt regime change to bring it about.
It sounds wonderful and will go on my list of churches to visit, although it is so long since I went to Northants, and I’m not sure I know what else there is these days. I did visit the Sitwells house in Weston which was really wonderful, and freezing gloomy Boughton house where I saw a tiny shabby but reasonably cosy little room with a gas ring or primus stove or something where the duke supposedly camped out on his visits to Northampton. Apart from that, I know very little about this county. I will check your site to see what else you have posted about it. .
Northants is a bit of a gem in places – many a honey-coloured old stone cottage away from the sprawling business estates and distribution centres!
Wow, this was so interesting to read, thank you. It’s sad that the UK is largely secular today? Over here, Catholics are everywhere as are we protestants like myself.
I suspect that most people in the UK would consider themselves nominally Christian, John – I’d need to check.
I hope they are!
Lucky for Welby that he was not around in the 7th century….
You’ve really brought the amtosphere of that church to life, thank you.
Why, thank you. Yes, Welby seems to be having an interesting time.
Another interesting post Mike. I love the east window, the colours are glorious 🙂
Thanks, Eunice!