In 1892, it rained one night in Wenhaston,
near Blythburgh on the Suffolk coast. The
following morning, the finest Doom
('Judgement' panel) in England was
discovered on the scrapheap outside the
church, awaiting final disposal. It had
been coated in whitewash 400 years
earlier and was therefore thought, when
discarded, to be just a pile of rotting wood
- Baltic oak, probably. But the rain had
miraculously revealed part of the Doom,
and it was rescued and conserved. Dooms
were medieval church decorations, often painted by monks (though that is not proven in
this case) to instil a sense of good and evil in the not-so-faithful and as a reminder of the
impending Judgement Day. Here, on the lower part of the Doom, which can still be seen
in Wenhaston Church, St Peter, representing the Church, considers the entry of a bishop,
a king, a cardinal and a queen to eternal life.
In 1892, it rained one night in Wenhaston,
near Blythburgh on the Suffolk coast. The
following morning, the finest Doom
('Judgement' panel) in England was
discovered on the scrapheap outside the
church, awaiting final disposal. It had
been coated in whitewash 400 years
earlier and was therefore thought, when
discarded, to be just a pile of rotting wood
- Baltic oak, probably. But the rain had
miraculously revealed part of the Doom,
and it was rescued and conserved. Dooms
were medieval church decorations, often painted by monks (though that is not proven in
this case) to instil a sense of good and evil in the not-so-faithful and as a reminder of the
impending Judgement Day. Here, on the lower part of the Doom, which can still be seen
in Wenhaston Church, St Peter, representing the Church, considers the entry of a bishop,
a king, a cardinal and a queen to eternal life.