Above: last in the afternoon's circuit was this remote church in the middle of the county. Hot dog day afternoon so that I almost missed it out and went home. Hardly anything to see in the village except the church - austere exterior, 18th century brick, a wait for the key to be brought (by an elderly man in cords).
Above: ornate interior, including this fabulous doric arch over the entrance to the chancel.
Above: beyond the chancel rail, in the Sanctuary, two bewigged London merchants (what were they doing so far from home?) lounged either side of the altar, as if carrying out a long conversation to relieve their ennui while they waited for the end of days.
Above: the floor of the Sanctuary was absolutely packed with marble stones commemorating the local gentry, including this unfortunate Victorian traveller who was murdered by brigands.
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