It is hard to miss the two tall neoclassical towers, which are all that are left of the Church of St Mary the Virgin.  Hard to miss them if you are in Mistley that is, because, surprisingly, even from nearby Manningtree, and looking across the Stour Estuary, the towers become hidden behind the surrounding canopy of trees.

There is something impressively monumental about the Mistley Towers.  Designed by Robert Adam, they stand like enormous twin mausolea, dwarfing the numerous stone tomb stones, which surround them.  Giants among rabbits, I sense they might feel a slight sense of embarrassment at their gargantuan proportions; at their survival; at the eyes cast upon them.

My own eyes spot an inconspicuous notice, which suggests that it is possible to enter the Towers upon request of a key from the nearby Mistley Thorn Hotel.  It seems an unlikely arrangement, but I am sufficiently intrigued to see what lies within the Towers to suffer the indignity of a polite rejection by the hotel reception. 

However, much to my surprise, a key––quite a modest Yale, not the massive, old wooden article of which I had privately hoped––is produced forthwith and, within only a few minutes of conceiving the idea, I am standing inside the west tower.

It is quite a minimalist space: a few grave stones leant up against a side wall; and a low table displaying one or two detached details of the exterior masonry.  Don’t get me wrong, I am still thrilled to be standing inside Mistley Towers, and on my tod at that, but I am beginning to understand why it is that I have the place to myself.  There is not a whole lot to see.

I vacate the west tower; ensure the door is locked behind me and enter the east tower.  Now, here there is a bit more of interest.  A useful information sheet describes the history of Mistley and the Towers.  There are several circular memorial plaques mounted on the wall; a wooden commandments board from the original church; several intriguing ‘ghost’ shadows, where paintings have presumably been removed; and an unusually colourful decoration on the ceiling, which looks vaguely Masonic, but which I am reliably informed is a representation of the Holy Trinity.

If I am being entirely honest, I had been hoping that in one of the towers there might have been a narrow, spiral staircase, which would have permitted me access to the top of the structures––love a climb, me––but, alas, no.  However, I am not disappointed.  I feel like I have had a privileged glimpse behind the scenes of a little-visited monument, and I return the key to the Mistley Thorn Hotel a contented explorer.

© E. C. Glendenny

E. C. Glendenny goes where others are more sensible to tread.