There is a specific kind of magic found in the quiet corners of the English countryside—places where stone, ivy, and history intertwine so tightly that it becomes difficult to tell where man’s work ends and nature’s begins. One such place is the Parish Church of St John in the Wilderness, located just outside Exmouth in Devon.
Today, I’m sharing a beautiful piece from my personal vintage postcard collection. This hand-tinted gem offers a window into the past, capturing the "Wilderness" church in an era of romantic decay and serene isolation.
Dating the Card: A Glimpse into the Edwardian Era
When collecting vintage postcards, half the fun is playing detective to determine when the image was produced and mailed. While this specific card hasn't been postmarked, several physical clues allow us to pin down its origin with reasonable certainty.
Look closely at the back of the card. It features a "Divided Back," with a vertical line separating the message area from the address. In Great Britain, the Post Office only permitted divided backs starting in 1902. Before this, the entire back was reserved for the address, and any message had to be scribbled on the front around the image.
The typography of "POSTCARD – GREAT BRITAIN & IRELAND" and the specific "Stamp" box design suggest a production date between 1905 and 1915. This was the "Golden Age" of postcards. The hand-tinted colouring on the front—where soft greens and muted reds are layered over a monochrome photograph—is a hallmark of this period, aiming to give the viewer a "technicolour" experience before colour photography was commercially viable.
The Story of St John’s in the Wilderness
The church pictured is officially the Parish Church of St John the Baptist, Withycombe Raleigh, but its evocative nickname, "St John’s in the Wilderness," has been in use for centuries.
The site has been a place of worship since at least the 10th century, but the tower you see in the postcard dates back to the 15th century. By the mid-1700s, the main body of the church had fallen into a state of extreme disrepair. In a move that seems unthinkable today, much of the nave was demolished in 1778, leaving the tower and a small portion of the north aisle standing as a lonely ruin in the middle of the churchyard.
For over a hundred years, it remained in the state seen in this postcard: a romantic, ivy-clad skeleton of a building. It wasn't until the late 19th and early 20th centuries—right around the time this postcard was printed—that restoration work began to bring the church back to life for regular services.
Analyzing the Image: Ivy, Stone, and Silence
The front of the postcard captures the church from the southwest, highlighting the imposing square tower. The "Wilderness" aspect of its name is on full display here.
The Ivy: The sheer volume of ivy clinging to the tower is breathtaking. In the early 1900s, this "picturesque decay" was highly fashionable. Today, we know that such heavy vegetation can damage ancient stonework, and modern conservationists have since cleared much of it away to preserve the structure.
The Churchyard: The foreground is dotted with weathered headstones. This churchyard is the final resting place of several notable figures, most famously Lady Byron, the wife of the poet Lord Byron, and Francis Danby, the renowned Irish Romantic painter.
The Atmosphere: The hand-tinting adds a dreamlike quality. The sky is a pale, washed-out blue, and the grass is a vibrant, impossible green. It evokes a sense of Victorian nostalgia—a longing for a rural England that was already beginning to change with the advent of the motorcar and modern industry.
Why We Collect: The Power of the Postcard
Collecting cards like this isn't just about the cardboard; it's about holding a moment of time in your hands. This postcard was likely sold as a souvenir to a holidaymaker visiting the Devon coast. Exmouth was a burgeoning seaside resort, and a trip out to the "Wilderness" church would have been a popular excursion by carriage or on foot.
When I look at this card, I think of the person who might have bought it. Perhaps they stood in that very churchyard, listening to the same wind through the trees, before heading back to the seafront to write home about their travels.
Visiting St John’s Today
If you visit Exmouth today, you can still stand where this photographer stood. While the "Wilderness" is perhaps a bit less wild now—the church has been beautifully restored and is once again a centre of parish life—the 15th-century tower remains a steadfast sentinel. The ivy is gone, revealing the intricate stonework, but the sense of peace remains.
