Just south of Oxford is the town of Abingdon on Thames, home of St Ethelwold’s House and Garden. When I was studying English Local History at the Oxford University Department of Continuing Education, I went down to Abingdon to research an unusual piece of stained glass in the Church of St Helen. It was then that I first noticed St Ethelwold’s, a charming looking house just off the Main Street that had notices in the windows advertising upcoming events… yoga, meditation, Quaker silent prayer… it seemed an oasis of spirituality in an otherwise fairly conservative feeling area. I don’t know if I realised there was a garden at the time, but every time I visited Abingdon, I would be sure to walk past St Ethelwold’s.

At some point, I noticed the garden. Running along the side of the house, it’s divided into sections and ends with little windowed sheds just above a dock skirting the river. There are large gates that open on the street, once probably used for loading and unloading coal or ale… two prior enterprises at the site, but now inviting the public to come in, relax, and enjoy the garden. The garden is walled with old stones and bricks and there are dozens of roses and clematis climbing up them. Below, beds overflow with bulbs, perennials and annuals surrounding shrubs and hedges. A large arbor with an old, climbing single rose crosses the path midway down the garden. There are well-worn seats and benches everywhere, many hours have been spent contemplating the garden from these comfortable spots, each featuring a different view of the garden. I’ve never been there when there weren’t others in the garden, lost in solitude or friendly discussions. On the day I visited this May, I spoke with a gentleman researching plants for an upcoming Biodiversity tour and lecture he was preparing as well as one of the garden volunteers… yes, the entire garden is cared for by a group of volunteers who clearly share a love and vision for the garden.

For a site as lovely as this, I always imagined St Ethelwold as a kindly Anglo-Saxon saint with some connection to nature, and definitely female, in the style of local St Frideswide of Oxford. In actuality, Ethelwold (sometimes Aethelwold) was the Abbot of Abingdon Abbey in 954 and would later be Bishop of Winchester. He appears to have been a somewhat ruthless leader of the English Benedictine Reform and set about changing the Abbey and the area with great zeal. The Dictionary of National Biography says that he “is an often formidable authoritarian who, for instance, commands a monk to show his devotion by plunging his hand into a boiling pot of stew, while another monk who had the presumption to watch Æthelwold while he was reading at night was punished with temporary blindness.” So, I assume the site was named for the connection to Abingdon rather than the character of their patron saint!

The Fellowship of St Ethelwold’s was the result of years of hard work by Dorothea Pickering. She was born in 1906, the daughter of an Anglican vicar, and later convert to Catholicism. She worked as a teacher in Abingdon most of her life but was always inspired by the Benedictine movement and dreamt of a space for a group of religious to live in community in Abingdon. Over time, she grew more enthusiastic in ecumenism hoping to bridge her own religious upbringing with interfaith work. Her focus on encouraging “Quiet Time” every day for “listening to God” was foundational to building the meditation groups still practising there today. St Ethelwold’s offers rooms for retreats, artistic exploration, community involvement and other outreach programmes run by a variety of groups and volunteers. Details of these are on their website.

One thing that is clear when visiting St Ethelwold’s, it is well loved and cared for. The plan for the garden was peace and contemplation, and it is beautifully fulfilled. It might be impossible to visit and not be drawn in to the quiet, gentle spirituality of the space… I wouldn’t know, I always quite willingly succumb.