Symbol of the Month – The Mass Dial

In light of the mass dial found at St Mary’s In the Marsh, I thought it might be timely to repeat the 2021 Symbol of the Month about them. Easily missed as they are not always where you expect to find them, they are survivors from a time where there were no time keepers such as clocks. People rose with the sun and went to bed at sunset which is why they were so important to villages and their inhabitants.

Mass Dial set into a wall at St James’s, Cooling, Kent. © Carole Tyrrell

Despite the somewhat dispiriting summer, I was determined to escape from the house and see at least one or two local churches.  My little part of Kent is known as Charles Dickens country (I’m not sure that he knows about this) and there are several buildings and churches associated with him. 

One of these is St James’s church at Cooling.  Although closed for services, it is still kept open by local people on most days. The Churches Conservation Trust take care of it and it’s in an isolated spot which borders onto marshes.  It’s also a fair walk from the nearest town, Cliffe.  I didn’t see any signs of much of a village there although there is a 14th century ruined castle nearby. St James’s is the end of a terrace of houses appropriately named Dickens Walk. 

l’ll talk more about St James in a later post as it inspired one of Dickens most atmospheric scenes in ‘Great Expectations’ with the childrens graves in the churchyard.  But while I was there, I found a symbol set within a wall that I had heard of but had never previously seen an example – this was the Mass Dial.  I have to admit that if it hadn’t been pointed out on a display board within the church that I might have missed it as it’s set into an outer wall of the church.  Not many have survived and Victorian restoration may have meant that they are found in odd places.

Mass dials are rare survivors and were a way of telling time before the invention of mechanised clocks and timepieces in the 14th century. 

It was the Anglo-Saxons who established the dials.  There had been confusion with all the different calendar systems such as the Lunar and Julian, and with a largely illiterate population, a visual way of telling the time was necessary.

It was the Anglo-Saxons who established the dials.  There had been confusion with all the different calendar systems such as the Lunar and Julian, and with a largely illiterate population, a visual way of telling the time was necessary.

According to the Building Conservation website:

the Anglo Saxons divided night and day into 8 artificial divisions known in Old English as Tid or Tides.  The 4 daylight divisions were called:

Morgen – 6am – 9am

Undern – 9am to noon

Middaeg – Noon to 3pm

Geletendoeg – 3pm to 6pm. 

Morning, noon and evening are still in use as the last remnants of this division still in use today as are moontide, yuletide and shrovetide.’

But, throughout the Middle Ages, the Catholic church emphasised the reciting of prayers and fixed times during the day as pre-Reformation Britain was still a Catholic country.  These were known as the Divine Offices and were:

Matins – pre-dawn

Prime (6am)

Terce (9am)

Sext (12pm)

None (3pm)

Vespers (sunset

Nocturnes (after sunset) 

However, these were not set as the sun might not shine for a few days and if a mistake was made then the parish priest might end up celebrating certain feasts on different days from a neighbouring parish. 

Mass Dial, St John’s church, Devizes, Wiltshire – note that it still has the marker in it showing how it worked.© Brian Robert Marshall under Geograph Creative Commons Licence.

They were a form of medieval sun dial and originally the hole in the centre of the dial would have contained a horizontal wooden or metal rod that cast a shadow.  This was known as a ‘gnomon’ which is pronounced as No Mon.  These may well have been the local community’s only way of telling the time although medieval life revolved around getting up at sunrise and going to bed at sunset.

According to the British Sundial Society,

‘mass dials can be found on the south side of many churches.  They are usually small and often located on the walls, buttresses, windows and doorways of a church.  However, they can also appear in more unlikely places such as inside churches and on north walls where the sun rarely shines. But they have also been found in porches suggesting that the porch was built sometime after the dial was made.’

The Society goes onto suggest that this may be

 ‘due to the stone blocks having been re-used in the rebuilding of the church.’ 

The location of the Cooling one may indicate that it’s been moved.

Again, according to Building Conservation:

‘if a mass dial is found anywhere other than a church and other than the south elevation of a church, this usually means that it has been moved from its original location often as part of a Victorian restoration.  In such cases, the dials were sometimes rebuilt into the fabric upside down, making them unreadable.’

The positioning of mass dials is important and can vary.  They may be on the smooth cornerstone or quoin of a tower, nave or chancel, above a porch or on a door or window jamb.  Often they are set at eye level and in one church it is cut into a window ledge.

Mass dial, All Saints.Oaksey, Wiltshire. © Brian Robert Marshall. Shared under Wiki Creative Commons

Mass Dial, St Michael & All Angels., Heydon, Lincs. ©Richard Croft. Shared under Wiki Creative Commons

Mass dials also vary in their design as:

‘Some have either a few or many radiating lines, {others} have ‘hour’ lines within the circles or semi circles and others are constructed with a ring of ‘pock’ marks drilled into the stone.’  

British Sundial Society

There are also variants in the way that the hour lines are numbered as they may have Roman numerals or even Arabic ones.  They’re also known as scratch dials as

‘many are quite crudely scratched into the stone.’ British Sundial Society

A full circle version, All Saints, Yatesbury. ©Brian Robert Marshall Shared under Wiki Creative Commons

The 14th century brought mechanical clocks that created a regulated 24 hour time period.  As a result, medieval life changed as it was no longer so reliant on daylight.  However, mass dials were still in use but now they were a complete circle with lines radiating from the central gnomon to simulate the 24 hour clock.  But by the 16th century they had fallen out of use.  Sundials and mechanical locks had overtaken them and it was no longer the Roman Catholic church that dominated after the Reformation.

Mass dials are of great archaeological and historic importance.  However, many of them are now indecipherable due to erosion and vandalism and people may not even realise what they are or their significance.

© Carole Tyrrell Text and photos unless otherwise stated.

References and further reading

https://sundialsoc.org.uk/dials_menu/mass-dials/

https://www.buildingconservation.com/articles/mass-dials/mass-dials.htm

http://massdials.org.uk/links.htm

Champers and cockleshells – a return visit to St James, Cooling August 2024

The Cockleshell vestry, St James Cooling, Kent. © Carole Tyrrell

Maybe I just disturbed the nocturnal guests at St James’s and they felt compelled to hide but all appeared to be silent as I stepped inside the church.  But they were given away by 2 vacant camp beds in front of the altar and the small refreshment area by the pulpit. I thought that the hot water bottle on one of the camp beds was a nice touch as I stood there for a moment and wondered what it must have been like staying overnight in an empty church in such an isolated place. There are houses around the church but not that many. ‘Champing’, is a euphemism for overnight ‘camping’ in churches looked after by The Churches Conservation Trust. Don’t worry they’re not pitching tents! The church provided the campbed and the usual amenities. It’s really caught on in recent years and I have been tempted to try it myself.

A recently vacated Champers campbed. © Carole Tyrrell

But I was at St James’s to see the cockleshell room which I’d missed on earlier visits. There wasn’t a sign advertising it but a quick look at the church map of the interior and I headed for the church organ. This time I found it! The door’s latch seemed to echo in the tranquillity as I pulled it open. The vestry is ‘compact and bijou’ as an estate agent would undoubtedly say – it is tiny and there was only a small open cobwebbed window, high up in the wall for ventilation. The room felt very warm and contained only a chair, possibly a recycled pew, and a bureau.

But it’s the thousands of cockleshells that made me catch my breath. They are floor to ceiling, arranged in patterns with newer ones being cemented in. I have to say that it did feel a little claustrophobic.  The vestry dates back to the 19th century and is considered to be either a reminder or perhaps homage to the shell being the symbol of the saint, St James. Shells would be worn in pilgrims’ hats as they went on the trail to his shrine in Santiago de Compostela. Above the door, and supposed to be, are initials and a date which may be 1833 or 1838.  The initials are I.M.  and I.C. CWARDENS which could stand for John Murton and John Comport churchwardens. I was looking in the wrong place so didn’t spot it but perhaps on another visit…. you do need a few minutes just to take it all in and try not to touch them although it is a very tactile surface.

View of the vestry. © Carole Tyrrell

Close up view of cockleshells on wall showing newer ones cemented in. © Carole Tyrrell

You can almost imagine what this room must have looked like at one time with newer shells. © Carole Tyrrell

View of bureau and walls. © Carole Tyrrell

View of church from vestry. © Carole Tyrrell

According to the Churches Conservation Trust, it’s considered to be

‘unique in an English church’.

As I explored the nave after leaving the little room I saw the medieval benches that date back to the 14th century. They’ve evaded the iconoclasts of the 1600s and Victorian restoration but are now too fragile to be touched, much less sat on, and are now roped off.

The medieval pews – not considered comfortable by the Victorians. © Carole Tyrrell

The Murton memorial. © Carole Tyrrell

The name Murton appeared again on an elegant and poignant wall memorial to a sailor, John William, eldest son of John Murton of nearby Cooling Castle.  He died young, aged 28, after falling overboard from the Monarch off Rio de Janeiro during a voyage to Calcutta. The inscription on the marble tablet quotes from the ship’s captain’s log:

‘And so perished one of the finest and best hearted seamen who ever trod a ship’s deck. I have lost a trustworthy officer and valued friend. Peace be to his remains.’  

View of churchyard from inside church. © Carole Tyrrell

After that I went outside to see ‘Pip’s Graves’ and the table tomb on which Charles Dickens is reputed to have eaten his lunch. Across the marsh I could see docked ships and butterflies flitted about on the buddleia at one end of the churchyard.  I found a clergyman’s grave denoted by a chalice and more childrens graves. One was dedicated to a six year old. I also pursued a Common Darter dragonfly until it posed obligingly and checked to see if the little grinning demon still kept watch over the outside loo.  He did. I looked up as I left the churchyard and saw, glinting on the weathervane above the tower the representation of another cockleshell.

Docked ships over the marshes from the churchyard. © Carole Tyrrell

Common Darter. © Carole Tyrrell

The chalice symbol indicates the grave of a priest or clergyman. © Carole Tyrrell

A small grave dedicated to a 6 year old in another part of the churchyard. © Carole Tyrrell

Shell symbol on the weathervane. © Carole Tyrrell

View of St James from outside the churchyard. © Carole Tyrrell

The 18th historian, Edward Hasted, described Cooling as

‘an unfrequented place, the roads of which are deep and miry, and it is as unhealthy as it is unpleasant.’ 

It certainly is unfrequented as I was alone as I walked along Cooling Road to and from the church with only passing cars for company. The remains of the 14th century Cooling Castle, which is in private hands, are still impressive. Dark blue sloe berries were still on several bushes and windfalls clustered beneath apple trees in a nearby orchard.  I retraced my steps back to Cliffe for a wander round St Helen’s churchyard and then a very welcome cuppa in their café. 

But how I envied the ‘champers’ enjoying a good night’s kip(I hope) in that little corner of Kent.

© Text and photos Carole Tyrrell unless otherwise stated.

References and further reading

St James’ Church, Cooling, Kent | The Churches Conservation Trust (visitchurches.org.uk)

James the Great – Wikipedia

St. James | Biography, Apostle, the Greater, Death, Feast Day, & Facts | Britannica

What I did over the summer and what is to come……

St Peter & St Paul churchyard Seal Kentt. A magnificent view of the North Downs from the back of the church.
©Carole Tyrrell

Dear readers

It has been an eventful summer for me, to say the least. I moved house again for various reasons and now live in Rochester, Kent.  For those of you that don’t know it, it’s a town associated with Charles Dickens and is on the banks of the River Medway.

But I have also been busy researching 18th century memento mori’s in Kent churchyards, both around Sevenoaks and Rochester. It was quite surprising to see the differences in carvings from church to church and parish to parish.  They started out as naïve, almost crude, motifs and then professional stonemasons became involved.  In the churchyard of St Peter & St Paul church in Tonbridge there were still 2 tombstones dating back to medieval times. A blog post on my research, or I prefer to call it, poking about in churches and churchyards, is forthcoming as is Symbol of the Month amongst others.

So although shadowsflyaway has been quiet over August I’ve been gearing up for the autumn.

To whet your appetite for the Memento mori post here is one from the churchyard of St Peter and St Paul in Seal, Kent which is almost like a piece of Folk Art in my opinion…

Memento Mori, St Peter & St Paul, Seal, Kent. I think it’s almost like folk art.
©Carole Tyrrell

© Text and photos Carole Tyrrell