I’d recommend you take a look at A Clerk of Oxford blog – it’s always a stimulating read, even if you think you have no interest in its topic: medieval literature and history. Yesterday’s post was mostly about the etymology and significance of the word ‘Lent’. I didn’t know it was used from Anglo-Saxon times to denote not just the pre-Easter fasting period, but also ‘spring’ (at least until 14C).
It probably derives from the same Germanic root that gave us ‘long’ and ‘lengthen’ – for spring (‘lenten’) days begin to grow longer. There’s a lovely line in a 14C springtime poem in this same post that I wanted to share: In sori time my lyf I spend (rendered in modern English as ‘I spend my life unhappily’). Hope it’s not too gloomy for these worrying times. I find its curiously jaunty lilt offsets the melancholy.
The same post has equally interesting exposition of the term ‘quarantine’. Link to the post HERE.
Most of the recent socially distanced walks I’ve taken with Mrs TD around our local rural lanes take us past Kenwyn church (see previous few posts: grave of Joseph Emidy, the ex-slave and musician) and Epiphany House, nearby.
This handsome building is more imposing than graceful, and its architecture is a bit muddled, reflecting the many extensions and renovations that it’s undergone over the years. There’s a bell tower with a graceful sailboat weather vane atop, and some lovely windows.
Its gardens are more impressive; there’s a huge lawn on the sloping hill below the house, skirted by venerable trees, very popular with birds and squirrels. On Tuesday as I passed by on my own (not sure where Mrs TD was) I heard the drumming of a woodpecker.
I was intending writing a longer piece about the history of the house. Unfortunately, as I researched online, I discovered that a friend and former colleague, Dr MT, has published about it. His expertise is daunting, so I’ll limit myself here to a brief summary.
The original (16C?) building served, as far as I can tell, as the vicarage of St Keyne’s church nearby. In 1787 John Wesley stayed there on one of his Cornish preaching tours. In his journal he described staying in ‘a house fit for a gentleman.’
Soon after Truro diocese was created in 1876 the first bishop took residence. The house’s new name became the Cornish phrase ‘Lis Escop’, signifying its status as his court or palace. Edward White Benson, that first bishop, later became Archbishop of Canterbury. The local primary school is named after him.
During WWI it served as a convalescent home for wounded British officers, and housed Belgian refugees. In WWII Bishop Hunkin, who served in the ARP (Air Raid Precaution) service established its grounds as a fire-watching centre.
The second bishop, George Wilkinson (1883-91), had previously been vicar of fashionable Eaton Square parish in London. There he helped establish a community of devout Christian women, and when he took up residence in Truro invited them to come too. They formed a convent at a grand house near the city centre, now the Alverton hotel (my sister-in-law held her wedding reception there – another lovely location). They were known as the Community of the Epiphany. (I might say more another time about this Anglican order and their time in Truro).
In the early 1950s the bishop relocated, and from 1953-1982 the house was occupied by Truro Cathedral School. It was renamed Copeland Court, after an alumnus of that name whose family owned the grand Trelissick estate a few miles away (now a National Trust property, and another favourite haunt of ours, when we’re not in lockdown).
In 1983 the school closed down, and the nuns at Alverton bought it and moved in. It wasn’t renamed after their order as Epiphany House until the Community’s dissolution in 2003, when the charitable trust took over.
The Epiphany Trust continues to uphold the charitable and devout traditions of the sisters. It’s used for accommodating retreats, courses and conferences, but also has meeting rooms for local business and other groups – including coroner’s inquests.
It’s a beatifully tranquil setting, and calms the soul just to walk through its grounds. It seems a long way from the bustle and commerce of the city nearby. I felt this solace even before I learned about the history of the house. You don’t have to be a nun to feel the peaceful spirit of the place.
PS 3 April 2020: I’m indebted to Dr T for providing corrections to some inaccuracies in my first version of this post. I’ve updated it to incorporate them.