Stratton on the Fosse, Somerset

Hemington, North Somerset

Hemington didn't seem to be hugely bigger than Hardington Bampfylde, but its church is just massive. It's got aisles, and a sort of chapel open to the south side of the altar. The latter was where we found the excellent Norman font with its petally scallops. Pevsner calls the decoration 'lobes'. Sometimes I think he just didn't care about Norman fonts at all :) But I mustn't feel too irritated by him as his books are essentially the reason B and I have found so many interesting places to visit. And at least we have the luxury of enjoying wherever we go. His explorations for the books must have turned into sheer slog. Monetarily rewarded slog of course. With the opportunity for the occasional sarcastic remark. But slog nonetheless. "Right let's go, we've got 15 more to do before teatime."

The chancel arch is Norman in style too, but very sharply carved, to the extent where we were doubting its age. It's not got the personalised soft variety of the carving of the font. But I was kind of swung by the slight asymmetricalness of the design of the capitals - the pairs to left and right don't quite match. Plus there are traces of bright paint on them - does that not indicate their Normanness? I don't know. The age of the foot of the columns seems easier to acknowledge, again asymmetrical with chevrons on one of them. And what's that... yep at the bottom of one of the ones on the left, there's a strange little head. It reminded us a little of the "minute face" at Maperton. 

 

What an unexpected and curious thing. What a nice thing that the carver of the columns stole the opportunity to add this little character. It rather humanises the otherwise quite severe archway. What did it mean to people of the time I wonder? It's tempting to read something un-Christian into it, something to do with spirits being in everything around us. But you can't imagine that would have been entertained at all, though is it possible that Evil spirits might be lurking about. I don't know. I liked the little face though. I gave it a proper dusting. In fact there were lots of interesting carvings in Hemington, a whole row of them along the south aisle, though not as old. 

And another thing we appreciated about Hemington was its toilet, unlocked. Such a boon to the fonting traveller. I'm not kidding. It was also nice to have a look through the ferns in the little well opposite the church. The watery theme continued as we drove up out of the village and spotted water pouring out of the roadside at the top of the hill. We had to stop. It was a liverwort jungle, and with such a soothing sound.

Hardington Bampfylde, North Somerset

If you wanted a journey to epitomise 'Wiltshire Wandering' it could be the one to Hardington Bampfylde (except it's not in Wiltshire of course). What I mean is that it requires scrutiny of the OS map to find this excellently named location. And then we're rumbling along the main road thinking 'is it this little turn? nope... must be the next one... OMG HERE IT IS' with a sudden dash down into a little lane. Followed by the immediate sensation that the busy everyday world is left behind, and now you're properly in the country, with rolling fields and hedges both sides of the narrow road, and the sensation that something interesting lies ahead. Plus, we found ourselves diverting off this road onto a track, heading uphill across dung and into a farmyard. The little church stood amongst the farm buildings. It was an entirely promising sensation. A good place to begin today's wanderings.

The church is owned by the Churches Conservation Trust so there was no trouble opening the door. It had a peaceful damp air and with its Georgian woodwork felt remarkably authentic and unmessed with. The chancel arch looked simple and Norman, and straining a bit to fall outwards. I see Mr Pevsner says it's not medieval. But who knows. He only had his eyes to go on like we did. And it looks pretty good to me, it's certainly the right style, and I don't see anyone aping the Romanesque in the rest of the building, it's all pointy windows. So I'm going for it, personally.

Also in the Norman department was the amazing chunky font. I tried to draw it. The proportions came out wrong in disappointing fashion. When you've got such a simple design, the proportions are everything. It makes you realise what beautiful aesthetic sense these sculptors had nearly a thousand years ago. B and I always love to see another example. I think it's safe to say we're obsessed connoisseurs of them.

Also there were drawings on the wall opposite the door, in red - faces and twirls and vegetation. I wonder how old these are? Clearly it would rather depend on the wall. I wonder if it would ever be possible - maybe not from the style, which you'd imagine would depend a lot on the hand of the artist. But maybe from whatever the paint is derived from, or... I don't know. Anyway I enjoyed trying to copy some of them.

Damerham, Hampshire

It's about time I typed up our visit to Damerham, part of our visit to the New Forest. It seems so long ago that I can hardly remember its setting. Perhaps this is proof that memories are created by going over things in your mind. Perhaps writing this blog is good for my brain.

The church looks very ancient with its squat low tower.

CC image by Clive Perrin

I don't remember the church being open. But our main quarry was the tympanum over the door. This is not the best rendering but it was our last spot of the day...

So there we have a long-bodied horse (with rather nice decorative mane and reins) trampling on a person trying to protect themselves with a shield (a person apparently wearing some knightly headgear and a rather fancy belt). The rider isn't so clearly delineated (at least from the angle we were drawing at) and his short sword is probably something to do with the replaced? bit of stone at the top of the tympanum. But what's that in the right hand corner? B and I stared at this for ages but didn't come to any conclusions. It looked faintly birdlike, with long legs and a wing, but I doubt that's correct. Perhaps it's something knight-related that a Norman knight would recognise. But to the modern eye it's rather bemusing. It looks a bit like a bag with arrows sticking out of it. But not enough to be that. There's a big photo on the CRSBI website.

Landford, Hampshire

It's hopeless to be without an OS map: you can drive up and down the long road in Landford repeatedly and have no idea where you're supposed to be going. We stopped at a new-fangled pub which had a desperate atmosphere. But I needed the loo and a fizzy drink. My dear sister took the opportunity to ask about the church. She doesn't care about looking mad and religious when there's a carving at stake. The directions were curious but we figured it out in the end. Landford's church is nowhere near the obvious Landford. We should have known.

It didn't look promising as it looked rather new (well, Victorian new). But its position high up above Landford did seem promising. I've now read that the church was rebuilt in 1858. It does seem that there was a rather obsessive Thing for doing this to old churches. I'm sure a lot of it was unnecessary vandalism - it's not that they were restoring what was there, but totally trashing it a lot of the time. I raged a bit when we found the door was locked, because it stopped us seeing what we'd come all this way to see.

This was to be a stone "2ft 6in by 1ft 6in, and has sculptured upon it the figures of two priests in full canonicals, with maniples at the wrist, supporting between them a Cross.  The stone is perforated with holes, each an inch square, about 8 in number" (to quote from the link). In the old church the stone was at one time in the foundation at the SE corner of the chancel. Then it was moved above the north doorway. But when the new church was built, it was moved back inside.

You can see a big photo on the CRSBI website, but here's another version, taken by Trish Steel. I feel like we're treading in her footsteps this trip.

CC image on Geograph

The stone doesn't look riddled with eight holes any more? Maybe it got trimmed. It's evidently two people clutching a cross. It's very like the sort of cross a Lamb of God might clutch (or rather, balance delicately on its foot). But beyond that? The CRSBI site suggests one figure is Jesus 'because he has a nimbus', but I reckon both of them have got that, it's not a Jesus-exclusive. Also suggested is St Helena and Friend. She is said to have dug up the True Cross, a bit like a female Indiana Jones, and because there were two other crosses there as well she tested them out on some dead/sick people and only the True one perked them up. A bit like Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade when there were all those different grails to pick from. But I think those figures have beards perhaps. So probably not St Helena if so.

Anyway. We didn't see it. But there were a couple of pretty nice Norman capitals at the door outside. So I drew one of them.

Cholderton, Wiltshire

After the disappointment at Tidworth, we couldn't finish on a bum note. So we took in one more, at Cholderton. The church is on a rise at the top of a short, narrow lane.

The modern font was pretty dull, but our quarry was on display near the door. It's been a bit thwacked about so I suppose it's considered too rough for dipping infants into. I don't know. Sadly it was so close to the wall we couldn't see all its trumpety scallops. Because they were all pleasingly different as far as we could crane about.

Somebody had painted the most superb list of the church's vicars, but it seemed curiously pagan / fortean, with its devils and dragons and snakes and suchlike. But I liked it with its bright contrasty lapis lazuli style blue, gold and red.

I noticed here that it sounds like until recently the font was outside in the churchyard! Probably put there when they rebuilt the whole church in the 19th century (such a familiar story). So a massive thanks to whoever brought it inside and gave it a sturdy new base. Something c800 years old deserves a bit of respect does it not.

Tidworth (North Tidworth), Wiltshire

We tried Tidworth next. Apparently there's a North and a South Tidworth church, I've only just found that out. And although our (Northerly) Tidworth church looked really cute, it was locked up tight with a big padlock. You can imagine the church in its original rural location - like this - but today it had badly designed modern houses and warehouses right up to it, it felt odd. So I wasn't that surprised it was shut. But I was disappointed. I reckon it's probably shut all the time because I can't find any photos at all of the interior on the internet, other than ones taken by churchgoers in churchgoing time. I found a photo of the font here on the church's website. It's rather nice, one scallop each side.

Ludgershall, Wiltshire

The friendly rector very kindly showed us round Ludgershall church. It's got the most impressive Tudor monument. Pevsner likes it very much. I was suitably awed by the amount of detail and the crazy creatures on it. Sir Brydges and his wife were both resting their feet on little animals. I will include them because they definitely look back to the era of our favourite Norman Knight in Castle Combe. They're not a patch on him, mind :) His and hers:

There was also a super 'green man' in the centre of the church (just outside the Brydges chapel), and some other grotesque faces. We've seen a 'green cat' which must be Norman amongst all the amazing sculpture at Quenington , so maybe this could be Norman too? It's pretty chunky and basic.

But what had originally drawn us here was the promise of something Saxon. The rector proudly drew it to our attention. But it didn't look like anything to us: it looked like someone being Very Hopeful.

Here it is at four different angles. But actually it doesn't have to have been at any of those angles originally.  There's a faintly feathery look about it. But I really can't see anything obviously Saxon, or at least nothing that looks like the knotwork, plant scrolls, or animals from the things we've seen locally. Also it's very thin through isn't it. Why is it so thin?

There's the classic framed Explanation next to it. It says "The Carved centre stone was recently discovered at the East end of the Church, it having apparently been used by the builders for filling in at a previous restoration. As it is thought to be old [?] from an earlier Church, possibly part of a Saxon sculptured Crucifixion, it has been placed here for preservation. E S[?] Builder and Alfred W [?], Rector."  You can indeed imagine the bottom left orientation being a person holding out their arm. But then what would be that lump on the left? I'm not convinced.

Actually one of the coolest things at Ludgershall was this amazing (and surely extremely old) ladder up into the belfry. A beautifully patina-ed, naturally wonky, hand made thing, made precisely for this particular space. It was great.

Everleigh, Wiltshire

This one's looked after by the Churches Conservation Trust. It's massive and 19th century Gothic, and has the most crass and enormous monument bigging someone up that I think we've ever seen. I almost wish I'd taken a picture of it, because it was that outrageous and I can't see a photo on the internet. Tch.

But anyway. We'd come to see the font. Which was much nicer.

It reminded me of the one at Etchilhampton. Which is only about 14 miles away, so not far.

We've been to so many now, and I can't remember the names, so I have to try to communicate them to B by association with other things. Etchilhampton had lots of mining bees in the verge. Oh well. If the carvers worked all over the place, perhaps they had the same problem.

My drawing looks a bit odd and flat. The font was grafted onto a new, very symmetrical base. Which of course is a good thing. But it makes the contrast between organic top and sterile base a bit jarring. This is not an excuse for poor drawing unfortunately, but that's what the sketch reminds me of.

Rushall, Wiltshire

We eschewed the idea of exciting as-yet-unseen tympanums and beakheads this trip. I can't quite tell if it's because I didn't want a long drive (sounds legitimate) or whether I / we are getting completist and want to see every last damn Norman font in Wiltshire. That sounds a bit perfectionist and obsessive though. Perhaps it's come to that. The 'obsessive journeying' bit has turned out to be true. I don't think I care.

First stop was Rushall, down a bucolic lane with sheep grazing quietly in the fields. The church is apparently some distance from the rest of the village. The door was welcomingly open and all was airy and with a pleasant atmosphere.

Drawing this, I actually managed to shut the inner voice up for a while. But I find I still don't pay enough attention to the overall shape, the way the size of the parts relate to each other. So I made the stem too long, but photoshop has dealt with this well enough. The octagonalness made me feel a bit suspicious, it doesn't seem to be much of a thing in most of Wiltshire. But here isn't far from Upavon and its fancy 8-sided font. So I'll go along with it though it feels like a 'late' feature. I liked the feathery fingery base and its strangely ruff-like top. The Blurb in the church suggested it was an upside-down Norman column and that's rather believable. In fact here it is turned the other way up:

So you're getting two amounts of Norman sculpture for one, which was especially good in a church that was otherwise far too modern and bland for our specialist tastes to hold anything else as ancient and interesting. And what's more, this font rates highly on the 'inoffensive font cover' scale, it was very unobtrusive. The font gets pride of place in the centre of the tower base. It was peaceful here and I wish we'd driven down a little bit further to the bridge over the River Avon - it looks lovely on Google's streetview.

Stockton, Wiltshire

For those that like Norman capitals to their columns (and who doesn't - I mean, who wouldn't, surely) - Stockton turned out to have a huge range. More than you'd expect to find anywhere really. But it was cold in here and hard to draw, and I took photos.

Many degrees of trumpety scallopy 3d-ishness, from the merely incised to the super trumpety. And with a smattering of chevrons and beading also thrown in. Aren't they super. How I love the improvisation on a theme; they're all different but obviously all part of a set.

There was also a Norman font which was sitting in something like a modern wet-room bathroom - elaborately tiled with mosaic by Italian craftsmen, quite strange really. But perhaps apt for a water-related thing like a font. The fish below has an excellently long-suffering expression.

Stockton's font is very scallopy. It was difficult to draw it in the cold, crouching on the tiles. Deeply three dimensional trumpetyness is difficult to convey at the best of times.

Outside we bumped into a local who pointed out what was said to be the original base of the font; this was nestling in the vegetation in a garden near the gate. My photos came out black. But it's worth a quick look if you're there.

North Wootton, Somerset

We had to salvage this trip, find something properly Norman and do some drawing. So we drove in hope to North Wootton. Success at last.

It may be that I'm starting to lose the plot but this font had to get a little pat. It's exactly the type of thing we both like - chunky, wonky, with a bit of strong and honest decoration. In fact I think it's one of the wonkiest we've seen (you can see a photo on Robyn Golden-Hann's website - which slightly annoyingly shows an interesting font at Pilton that we missed). I love the way the old-style rope design changes into a series of up and down chevrons. You can see the place where the lock was (another feature I like to see to believe in a font's ancientness - not that you need that in this case. I wonder why they removed them, you never see one...)

Maybe it didn't use to be quite so wonky - there's also some weird patch towards the base that makes it look like it was reset a bit crooked. Also the photo makes it look much more elongated - I guess the angle I drew it at made it a bit foreshortened. Oh well. It was good to find after such a peculiar day and I felt refreshed from the opportunity to feel relaxed and draw.

I regret that I can't find anything else exciting to say about North Wootton. I'm sure it's a jolly nice place.

Incidentally, we removed the familiar style of hideous cover before drawing (just as I see Ms G-H did, despite her religious nature). I read on this page the eccentric idea that the "18th-century cover [was] probably adapted from the pedestal of a tea table". I think that was probably supposed to be humour but later repeated as fact. The cover was Clunky. Hey, preacher! leave those fonts alone! No really. Lay off the tasteless woodwork. I don't care if it's antique.

Bathford, North-East Somerset

I didn't write down anything for Bathford when I originally went through the Pevsner for this area, but I recently found a Lead. The Bathford Society says when the church was rebuilt in the 1870s, the 'effigy of a bishop' was found. In my fevered mind I managed to spin this into the rediscovery by two Romanesque fanatics of a Norman carving similar to the Mary and Jesus one in Langridge. It didn't turn out quite like that. But we did find Bathford church packed with interesting things. So much for my Pevsnering.

The main doorway was evidently, typically, Romanesque. It's got a nice thick band of projecting chevrons, and these surrounded by some bobbles ('pellets') and a bit of saw-tooth ornament round the outside. Also our favourite feature, the non-matching column capitals. I always feel reassured we're onto the real deal when there's non-matching capitals.

,

And the capitals are quite different to each other.

The left hand one is crisp and geometric. It's so unworn by time. It's rather sharp and exuberant. The right hand one is chaotic and wandering, it's organic like a load of liverwort lobes growing over the surface. Such a contrast.

Inside, the font is quite near the door (traditional spot for fonts, so they say). It's octagonal, which made us think it must be quite late. But I can believe it's still Romanesque, because of the solidness of the 'stalk' and the interestingness of the scallopy/trumpety arrangement. I think the pattern just changes alternately round the sides, but the combining of the low scallopybits and the high scallopybits gives an impression of randomness and instability. But really I think it's quite logical and mathematical. I rather like it.

Meanwhile, a carved head slumbered peacefully over by the windows.

In retrospect this is our favourite discovery at the church. It had such an excellent expression. I can't tell if a lot of that is coming from my brain's propensity to interpret detail out of the little dints and scrapes that weren't really part of the carver's intentions. I couldn't even tell you if the eyes are staring straight out or (as my brain sees it) closed and snoozing, with eyebrows above. But I liked it. It had that something about it.


Some anciently typed guff accompanied the carving. It said it "was found at some depth in the forecourt of the Crown Inn in 1933, probably having belonged to the collection of the late Mr Lavington, and having accidentally fallen into an excavation when works were in progress there." You what?! How B and I laughed at the thought of Mr Lavington wandering past with one of the pieces from his collection, and not noticing it drop out of his hand into a hole, and it going unnoticed by the hole diggers and being covered over. It seems ludicrously unlikely. It is ludicrously unlikely.

Furthermore, the head is referred to as a 'skull', which it clearly isn't (skulls don't have noses and lips). It's got some curious lines around it - is that a close-fitting hat? And there are some lumpy bits at the front. It seems to be carved so as to rest on a horizontal surface, not as though it was part of the decoration of something high up or vertical. But yet it's not at the angle it would be if lying down as part of a body.

Who knows. I can't help but think of ancientness and Anne Ross's heads in 'Pagan Celtic Britain', especially if we believe it was found 'at some depth'. But who knows. I just know I liked it.

Outside (in the graveyard where Nelson's young sister is buried) we sought more sculpture. Several things had been gathered in the shelter of the building near the chancel door. I'm glad they're relatively protected from the weather. But it seemed a bit unfair to tuck them away like this. There was a columnless capital with lovely perforated circles:

Also these three faces:

The left hand one is separate and seems to have a good thatch of hair. The other two are on the same piece of stone, which is interesting - could they be a double corbel? They seem more stylised and so they feel older to me. The left of the pair has a distinct ear (recalling Maperton's Minute Face) and a pursed expression, twisting his mouth to one side. The one on the right is also pulling a strange expression. He's got a stripe across the middle of his face. It can't be a bandage because the nose is uncovered. But it's not very convincing as a moustache either. So I wonder what it signifies.

Also next to the faces is this slab - if you visited somewhere and found only this you'd normally be very happy!This would have been great to draw but it was so very cold and my fingers wouldn't work.

We walked up to the top of the graveyard to find the promised effigy of St Swithun. It was a long way up. Again, it seemed sort of strange that the Victorian restorers would care enough to keep the carvings, but not care enough to actually keep them safe in the church. The good people of Bathford have recently renewed a little roof over the ones installed at the top of the graveyard to keep off the worst of the weather, but as we discovered, there sadly wasn't much left to protect.

The lovely beaded chevron column pieces next to 'St Swithun' are definitely Norman. They look like one at Langridge not so far away.

And there are two capitals, very worn, and they both seem to have heads carved on them.

        

 That could be a chin on the left hand remnant. But the right one looks clearer - is that a row of even little teeth along the bottom? There are definitely eyes. Is it a skull in fact? On both are the deep V shapes that are still on the main church doorway capital. They're interesting and it's such a shame they're so weathered! I wonder how decayed they were when they were first discovered and taken to the top of the churchyard.

 And what of the main attraction, the alleged St Swithun? He's looking a bit sorry for himself. But I think you can see a number of features that suggest the sculpture has Norman origins.

It's so weathered it's hard to see the details. It seems to be missing the middle section altogether. The figure is definitely clutching a book, which is a motif we've seen lots of times.

The chest has arcs that look rather like ribs. But I wonder if they're folds of clothing. When you look at the foot area, you can see fine lines which also suggest clothing folds. A bit too fine for my liking, I feel Norman sculpture is usually bolder. But I do like the daintiness of the feet, they're very thin and pointy, and remind me very much of the figure on the Cherhill font I recently drew from, or indeed from the sculpture at Stanton St. Quintin.

It's all a bit too worn and decayed which is sad. But it was nice to find.

I thought this church was going to be big and cold and Victorianly over-restored. But it had a very nice atmosphere indeed. I don't think that was just down to the extensive carpeting.

Ooh look

Oh sometimes I can't help laughing at my own amusingness. Although maybe this is how the sculpture was supposed to be. (I think I prefer my original interpretation though). This is photoshopped, honestly. You knew that.

Doulting, Somerset

There's not much at the church in Doulting that speaks of great age, other than the two capitals on the north door. And they were very nice albeit simple. Unmatching, of course (and just how I like it). The left one now reminds me of something I saw Mary Berry and her sidekick make on the tv the other day (a passionfruit and lime charlotte russe). The right hand side design has an organic foliate feel. Perhaps it echoes something of the amazing liverworts we were to see imminently.

Because coming out of the hillside below the church is St Aldhelm's Well, a holy spring. It's only a short walk, along a be-treed path and between stone walls down a steep lane.

CC image by Kerryn

I wanted to visit it especially to check out the mosses and liverworts there. Which were lush and rife, and much squealing was heard. The water was so clear and cold, and the noise of it splashing down out of the big stone trough was so continuous and soothing. It was just a superb spot. I felt invigorated by being there.

People were filling big water containers and carting them away in their cars, presumably to Benefit from its springyness and sanctity. So I figured the water couldn't be that full of nasties. B and I both took a mouthful. It certainly had its own taste, but it was hard to say of what.

Lullington, Somerset

We've not been to Lullington for ages, but I was flicking through a book this evening and a photo I'd taken there fell out. So I thought it would be a good stress-reducing plan to draw from it. Our last trip out didn't include as much drawing as it might.

So here are three of the amazing beakheads that surround the elaborate doorway (illustrated here).

The carver must have really enjoyed making the creatures' mouths curl round the roll in front of them - they've often made much of their wrinkled upper lips!

You can't beat a good beakhead but it's the way the carvers usually surrounded an entire arch with them, making each one different, that makes them worth travelling a long way to see.

It seems that Wiltshire's not very replete with them. Only Chirton springs to mind right now. Otherwise, the ones we've seen have mostly been in Gloucestershire.

Figheldean, Wiltshire

People who have dogs tell me that their pets provide other people a conversational opener, an excuse to start talking to a stranger. And that's a nice thing for us British. I think I've found my dog substitute - a massive purple sketchbook, first outing today. At Figheldean church not one but two people spoke to us as a result, and then someone else turned up too. The building's obviously well used for its original purpose.

We heathens had come to see the carved knights lying either side in the porch, although they were slightly obscured by some very jolly boards covered in colourful magnetic letters advertising the latest goings-on. Encouraged by our enthusiasm for the knights, we were given a kind and very comprehensive tour of the church by one of its custodians. It was interesting to see some greenstone in the columns (photo here though the columns are quite incidental to the photographer's intentions :)

 

But Figheldean is one of those churches that's been very messed about with, and there's even some neoNormanness going on. So its main attraction for us was the knights. Our guide surprised us by explaining they'd been dug up in a nearby field - perhaps hidden there during Cromwell's time, he speculated.

 

None seem to be able to compare with the lovely knight at Castle Combe. But these are the second-best we've seen! The cute little dogs / lions at their feet are well carved, with excellent paws (though the right hand one has been reassembled facing the wrong way). One knight has deeply carved folds in what I assume is a cloak. The other looks very comfy on his pillow. It would have been cool to have more chance to look at the pair closely, do a bit of drawing, take some photos without the magnetic letters in the way. But never mind.

 

It was also instructive to overhear the correct pronounciation of the village name - Fyaldene. I'd have been calling it Figgledene for ever more.

You'd think photos and stories about these knights would be all over the internet. But they're not. I think they should be. These knights are great.

I found some mention of them in John Aubrey's Topographical Collections of Wiltshire. He says:

FIGHELDEN.
Near the Belfre, in the South Aisle, are two fair freestone monuments of Knights crosse-legged, with shields, and at the feet of each is a Lyon. I could not learn whose Monuments they were: they are tumbled now, 1671, one on the top of the other. 

 Underneath in that edition, written in 1862, it says: "These effigies, having received some injury in their horizontal position, were for some time placed erect in the chancel: but have lately been restored to the place in which Aubrey saw them.

Pevsner says they're 'probably late 13th century'. But he also says one of the knight's pillows is supported by angels. I can't see it myself from the photos. Perhaps we need a closer relook.

Fittleton, Wiltshire

Fittleton was only a short way from Netheravon so we thought we'd better pop in and check out the font. Mr P had been typically laconic (Circular, Norman, with plain sunk panels).

It is plain, but surprisingly chunky. It kind of gave the impression of being massive. But it's not massive, just looks really sturdy.

This is my drawing. But it's not quite the right proportions, somehow I managed to make it too long and thin. I tried again. The same thing happened.

This is how it looks to a camera (courtesy of B):

As I was looking for information online, I found that someone else had also had Font Trouble. This page purports to show a variety of Wiltshire fonts - the top right corner is Fittleton. John Buckler was no amateur artist. Richard Colt Hoare (of Stourhead and antiquarian pursuits) paid him to draw lots of church architecture around Wiltshire (and beyond), around 1800. So it's fun to think he was trailing round with his pens to many of the places we've been ourselves some two centuries later. But! you will see that his version of Fittleton Font also suffers the same affliction - too thin through. I feel better. Mr Buckler must have been a busy busy man. And he was certainly a better draughtsman than I am. But maybe something about the Font at Fittleton makes you draw it funny. Who knows.

B noticed some light carving on the raised bands. It also seems to have quite a few chips like it's been ill-treated. At least it seems to have been given a sturdy new base.

Elsewhere on the web it's suggested that the corbels holding up the roof are late Norman. But if the rest of them look anything like this then that's pretty late. About as late as My Eye, I'd say.