“Don’t look up!” – good advice for the fainthearted crossing a churchyard at dusk – you may encounter fearsome faces leering at you from above. This article explores the wonderful fantasy world of church gargoyles and grotesques.
These consist of faces or whole bodies of humans, devils, domestic animals and fabulous beasts carved in stone. They are often found as bosses decorating the edge of the roof, on towers and around doorways. Mere decoration or did they have a purpose? It has been suggested that they were placed to ward off evil or a nod to pagan beliefs. Another purpose might be pedagogic; they teach a lesson about life and the danger to our souls of not attending church by confronting us with the hideous denizens of hell. The examples below are drawn from my recent gargoyle hunting ground, the county of Kent.
Gargoyles have a specific practical purpose and should not be muddled with grotesques; they are designed as part of the drainage of church roofs. Rainwater is channelled through their protruding body or head and vomited out of their mouth (or other orifice!) to protect the fabric of the church. The word gargoyle is thought to derive from the French for throat – ‘gargouille’, while ‘grotesque’ (a decorative element only) is derived from grotto-esque, a style of art found in ancient Roman grottos, although now meaning a person or animal distorted for comic effect.
Grotesques and gargoyles come in many forms, too many to discuss here. Some suggest links to older pre-Christian pagan traditions. The foliated face or ‘Green Man’ with leaves sprouting from the mouth and elsewhere is a common example. This motif is interpreted as symbolising death and rebirth, the sprouting greenery representing life. A wonderful twist on this theme is the Green Pig at the church of St Gregory and St Martin in Wye. The Green Man is an example of how Christianity adapted symbolism from older beliefs and is one of the most ancient of pagan symbols found on churches.
The pig is one of over twenty grotesques at Wye, dating back to the thirteenth century in some cases. It has two gargoyles over the porch, but these are eroded and in poor condition, no features survive – the sad fate of many gargoyles countrywide.
Other examples of grotesques at Wye include a strange startled bird, a fanged beast, a lion, a ‘hag’ with furrowed cheeks and two monstrous teeth, and a pig-like face-puller – hands, on stumpy arms that seem to sprout from the sides of the head, pull its mouth wide open. The face-puller, like the foliated mask is a common motif. St Graveyard Guardians Gregory and St Martin has two more foliated faces, one cow-like and one more reminiscent of a traditional green-man, although badly eroded.
Perhaps the most fascinating and satanic of the twelve is a lion-like creature biting a serpent. It has been suggested that lion and snake motifs in church art refer to Psalm 91, “Thou shalt tread upon the lion and adder: the young lion and the dragon shalt thou trample under feet.” (Psalm 91:13, King James Version), taken to represent the rout of Satan. Images of Christ treading on beasts, frequently a lion and snake, appear in Early Medieval iconography where these represent the fearsome and wily aspects of the devil.
Not all gargoyles and grotesques are old. Holy Trinity in Sittingbourne, a ‘Gothic Revival’ church in the style of the late thirteenth century (designed by Richard Charles Hussey), was only built in the late nineteenth century. It has a superb lion-head gargoyle with a lead spout at each corner of its tower roof, and the windows sport bosses of human faces in medieval headdress. These faces are very similar to medieval originals found in Kent, for example at the magnificent All Saints at Lydd in the Romney Marsh, known locally as the Cathedral of the Marsh, St Dunstan’s at Frinsted, and St Mary’s at Chilham.
Stalking grotesques and gargoyles is an addictive habit (binoculars help for those high on the buildings). Not all churches have them, but patience will pay-off if you keep your eyes raised and scour the whole structure. St Nicholas’s church in the village of Leeds has just one tiny chubby face tucked away at the back, while its namesake, St Nicholas at Rodmersham has a grimacing visage over the sacristy door as well as a couple of grotesques on its tower, although repair has clearly led to the removal of others.
Not all renovation leads to loss. I recently moved to Cirencester where a ‘punk’ grotesque with Mohican hairstyle, gesturing rudely, graces St John Baptist Church which is richly covered in much older examples including a menagerie of animals on its magnificent fifteenth century south porch. Cotswold churches are rich in gargoyles and grotesques as I am discovering – good hunting!
Peter Vujakovic is Emeritus Professor at Canterbury Christ Church University
