St Nicholas, Arundel

Today we naturally assume that a church building is united, every part being owned by the parish, but in medieval times it could be shared by several organisations. The parish might own the nave, the chancel might be occupied by monks, and there might be private chantry chapels with their own priests.
Almost all these arrangements were swept away by Henry VIII in the dissolution, but some survived. The parishioners of St Peter in Chichester, for example, used the north transept of the cathedral as their church well into Victorian times, but the most extraordinary example of shared ownership is St Nicholas in Arundel.
The original church was crucifix in plan, with the nave and transepts used by the parish and the chancel by monks of the religious foundation next door, where the Victorian buildings known as The Priory now stand.
The priory languished and was abolished in 1379, when the 4th Earl of Arundel took it over as a mausoleum for his family. A college of secular priests was installed in the priory to say masses for the Fitzalan family dead.
At the same time, the church was rebuilt in the English Perpendicular style, with a lofty nave, a crossing tower, transepts and a lovely chancel, which was separated from the nave by an iron grille to keep the plebs out of the Earl's burial chamber.
At the reformation, the Fitzalan family was one of the few in England powerful enough to remain Catholic and keep their lands (and, indeed, their heads). Things did not come to a head until 1879 when the vicar became so angry at what he felt was Catholic triumphalism that he sued the Duke for possession of the chapel - and lost. The Duke retaliated by building a wall behind the iron grille to keep out the prying eyes of the vulgar.
In 1937 the guide-book writer Arthur Mee raged "it is pitiful to see the eastern wall of St Nicholas roughly faced up as no good bricklayer would leave it, though in front of it, almost touching it, is one of the finest iron screens in the country, the work of a 14th century smith."
He also complained that he had to pay sixpence to enter the castle grounds to see the chapel. Sixpence is about £1.50 in today's money, but entry to the castle and chapel now costs £9. What would Arthur say about that?
Happily, good sense and improving relations between the churches led to the removal of the wall in the 1970s and its replacement with glass, so visitors can once again see the chapel through the screen in the way the 14th century designers intended.

St Mary and St Gabriel, Harting

Ancient churches rarely have their original roofs. Being at the top of the building, roofs are particularly vulnerable to rot, fire and over-zealous restorers.

Harting church lost its roof in a devastating fire of 1576, but luckily for us its replacement is a tour de force of Elizabethan carpentry.
The church itself was probably originally built just before the Norman conquest, as shown by the tall, thin walls of the nave. In the 14th century a central tower, transepts and aisles were added.
The fire destroyed the roofs and led to severe structural problems with the tower. To shore it up, supporting arches were inserted under the original arches of the crossing, and the first bay of the nave arcade was replaced with smaller, stronger arches.
The roofs of the transepts and aisles are simple and would not look out of place in a tithe barn of the period. The main element of the nave roof is a line of tie beams on which sit crown posts that help support the apex of the roof.
So far, so plain. In the chancel, however, the carpenters really let rip. The tie beams are supported on brackets with massive curved braces. Above, delicate turned struts like balusters hold up a second, lighter tie beam. Carved pendents and corbels create a rich effect.
If the other roofs are barn-like, this is ornate enough for a grand country house, perhaps the seat of the Cowper-Coles family whose tomb dominates the south transept. There they are in their heavy brocades, firs and stiff ruffs, looking thoroughly uncomfortable as they wait for the judgment day.

St John, Patching

To a casual glance, Patching church looks fairly normal. It was built in the early 13th century, with a nave and chancel plus a tower attached to the north wall.
Look carefully, however, and you notice the nave is not in line with the chancel but shifted to the south, so the chancel arch is not in the middle of the east wall but to one side.
The tower is peculiar too. Inside, it has an arch leading to the nave, which is normal enough, but it also has arches to the east and west which lead into small Victorian rooms.
Nobody seems to know exactly why the church is the way it is. Was the tower originally a crossing tower, between an original nave and chancel now demolished? This seems unlikely as the east and west arches are too small and not aligned.
Was the nave widened at some point? This too seems unlikely as the roof is original and would obviously have had to be replaced when the widening was done.
The best explanation is that the original church builders intended to have an aisled nave with the north aisle ending in the tower. The east tower arch would have been the entrance to a chapel.
However, plans changed and the aisles were abandoned - but because the south wall had already been built it was used anyway, the roof being redesigned to span the whole aisle width.
Another little mystery of Patching church is the position of the south door, which is right at the west end rather than halfway along the south wall. This is probably explained by the nave being shortened at some point, presumably to save money
We will probably never know the full story of how Patching church came to have such an unusual floorplan, as most of the evidence was swept away in a heavy restoration of 1888. The height of the tower was increased and the attractive broach spire was added at that time.

St Mary, Clapham

Clapham church is hidden away at the top of a long unmetalled drive, a lovely position. It is a charming little church dating mainly from the 13th century, though the main accent outside is 15th century - two square-headed windows on either side of a doorway that gives an oddly domestic effect. But the monuments inside are the main attraction.

Many visitors go for the tombs of the Shelley family, ancestors of the poet.
The most impressive is a brass dating from 1526 in the floor of the chancel right in front of the communion rail - you have to lift the carpet to see it. The figures are of John Shelley and his wife Elizabeth. He wears armour with a coat of arms over and she sports an elegant robe with the arms of her husband and of her own family, the de Michelgroves, whose estate she brought to the Shelley family.
His son William became a judge and is commemorated by an ornate tomb recess carved in 1548 where he is portrayed kneeling in his judge's robes, with his seven sons behind him. Behind them kneels his wife, Alice with their seven daughters.
Another brass dated 1550 shows their eldest son John and his wife Mary with their twelve children. Those poor women must have spent most of their married lives pregnant.
Their son John, the first baronet, also has a brass.
The reredos behind the altar wall the altar is decorated with tiles supplied by William Morris in 1873. The brilliantly coloured tiles show the four archangels depicted in the classic Arts and Crafts manner, standing before a hedge of roses and vines with bunches of grapes.

This is very rare, the only other Morris reredos being in Findon church close by. That had been installed a few years before and had been widely admired, so when Clapham church was restored by Sir George G Scott they clearly decided they wanted one too.

St Michael, Southwick

The majestic tower at Southwick looks like a textbook progression of styles over a hundred years.
The base with its moulded arch into the nave was built in the early 12th century. About 50 years later a second storey with blind arches was added. Finally, probably soon after 1225 when the Templars, those militant monks, were given the parish,  a top storey was added with tall lancet windows and little round bulls-eye openings to let the sound of the bells out. The tower was also topped with a broach spire,
The tower looks so good, indeed, it is almost impossible to believe that it was entirely taken down in 1941 after it was hit by a bomb. It mercifully failed to explode but the structural damage was severe. The tower was reconstructed in 1949 by architect John Denman, who was noted for his sensitive restoration of many Sussex churches including Bosham. Denman designed the new Norman-style west door in the base of the tower and the vestries on either side.
The chancel is also 12th century, but sadly the nave was completely rebuilt by the Victorians in 1835 possibly as the result of a fire. It is a cheap job, with thin columns holding up the arches and plain triple-lancet windows.

St Julian, Kingston Buci

St Julian is one of those churches that is made memorable by the fittings inside - the memorials, the pulpit, pews and so on - although the architecture is also unusual.
Even the name is memorable. Not many English churches are dedicated to St Julian, the miracle-working first bishop of Le Mans, but he had a sudden burst of popularity when Henry II, who was born there, came to the throne in 1154. Kingston is a common enough name, but the Buci part came from the surname of the lords of the manor in the 14th century. Amateur etymologists in the 18th century decided it must be a corruption of by-Sea, so the village was renamed Kingston-by-Sea until it became a part of Shoreham-by-Sea, when the original name was reinstated.
The church looks a bit featureless as you approach from the road because the north aisle, added in the early 15th century, has no side windows, only one at the east end. Inside, however, the blank north wall means light comes in only from the south and east for a rather moody, dramatic effect.
The big accent of the interior is the central 13th century tower which is vaulted in stone.
But what makes the interior is the set of box pews, including a two-decker pulpit with linenfold panelling set at the west end of the tower crossing. Originally, the pews in the crossing faced not the altar but the pulpit, reflecting the belief that the word was more important than the ceremony, prevalent in the Georgian period when they were installed. Sadly, six of the pews were removed in 1975, but a rare 17th century singing desk survives.

The other notable fitting is the organ, spectacularly located behind a gallery at the west end. It looks just as if a church band out of a Hardy novel had just left, but the gallery was built in 1924 and the organ is not a church organ at all but was made for the Brighton Aquarium
in 1900 for concerts and to accompany ice skating.
The church was re-ordered in 1988 in a trendy way with a new main altar on the south wall of the nave.
Go east to the original sanctuary and you see the other memorable feature of Kingston Buci church  - the Kingston devil.
A large tomb of 1540 has a lovely canopy over it, with a row of small bosses carved in the vaulting. Most are roses, but if you turn the page upside down you will see an imp sticking his tongue out at you!

St Mary de Haura, New Shoreham

New Shoreham was new 900 years ago when it was founded by the Lord of Bramber as a port at the mouth of the River Adur, just south of the original village, and to this day the grid pattern of the streets betrays the fact that it was planned rather than 'just growed'.

Construction of a new church began immediately, and they built big with nave, chancel, transepts and a tower at the crossing. The church was dedicated to Mary and described as 'by the harbour' - or 'de Haura' in Norman French.
The commercial success of the port, which rapidly became the most important on the south coast, brought in lots of money in the form of harbour dues and the inhabitants soon became even more ambitious. First the nave was enlarged in about 1130 by adding aisles. Then in the 1170s the chancel was completely rebuilt on a cathedral scale.
It is a text-book example of a cathedral choir of the Transitional style, when Norman was morphing into Early English, with an arcade of large arches at the bottom, a triforium (a line of arches looking out into the roof of the aisle) and a clerestory (a line of windows under the roof arches) and a stone vaulted ceiling.
The details of the choir are conflicting and have been the subject of furious debate among historians, some seeing the influence of the great William of Sens, builder of Canterbury Cathedral, others of masons based in Chichester and Boxgrove.
The finished church must have been truly magnificent, but sadly New Shoreham went into a decline in the 15th century when the harbour silted up.
The choir was the responsibility of the rector and was maintained, but repairs to the nave, which should have been paid for by the now cash-strapped ratepayers, was neglected. Damage may have been sustained in a French raid in 1628, then in the Civil War and finally in the Great Storm of 1703. Eventually the tottering structure was demolished and some of the stone used to create a west porch against the tower.
In the 19th century New Shoreham's fortunes revived as new docks were constructed extending to Portslade, and several schemes were hatched to rebuild the nave. Perhaps fortunately none came to fruition and today, like Boxgrove Priory, the church stands proudly but a little lopsidedly with its great choir to one side of the tower and a few piles of stones on the other.