In 1929 this little town called Wreay had a church, a school, a post office with general shops, a smithy, an inn, four cottages, and a clergy house, all surrounded the village green, populated by quite a close knit community .
On candlemas day the twelve men of Wreay were seated cozy at Bough's Inn smiling with churchwarden pipes in their mouths.
Plates of cheese and bread were on the table as they chatted about village matters.
Slowly walking a cloaked silhouette came towards them.They stared intently at the figure from afar.
She had a mission to give her own money and some of her own land to restore the town's church and to transform it into something spectacular for everyone to see and admire.
She was a Charlotte Bronte of sorts, mastered in the craft of wood and stones, a gentlewoman of exemplary worth and benevolence' and it is her generosity that has left this community with this unique and very personal building.
Wreay church, Victorian church , St. Mary's church
All the same.
Sarah Losh, the visionary, gave this precious gift to the people.
Under one condition, to do it her own way.
The result:
Imprinted in the windows planted fossils and plants drawing an image of life . Around them springs lillies and passion flowers.
Statues of doves.
The altar is a slab of Italian marble on brass eagles.
with an eagle and a pelican both on pillars of bog oak.
There are no explicitly Christian symbols, not even a cross, but a celebration of creation.
A trace of life that no fire could scorch out. Grieving, she gave her beloved sister a memorial, a stone statue within a mausoleum.
The gravestone is inscribed, "Parted in life, in death united."
Shadowed by a large obelisk,
The east side is covered with animals and birds eating fruit on a vine. Detail of Celtic patterns on the north side.
