St Botolph, Barford

Barford sits in the most intensely agricultural area of Norfolk to the west of Norwich, and on this hot day in July 2021 the tower of its church rose above the curve of the fields as I cycled from Barnham Broom, and then kept pace with me across the wide barley fields. But fields that will be golden in summer are stark and bleak under the early February skies, and when I first came this way back in 2006 the air was full of the sweet, damp smell of turned winter earth on both sides of the narrow lane which cuts away from the main road and leads to, and ends at, St Botolph. Back then, lapwings huddled impassively in the furrows, each alone, but today there was a buzzard high in the wide skies, and the friendly chatter of goldfinches in the hedgerows. It was hard to think of it as the same place, though I knew it was. The fields, the flint of the churchyard wall and the church itself were variations on the same theme, a holy place grown organically from the ground, then as now.

The tower was rebuilt from bequests of the second half of the 14th Century, and the nave is probably contemporary, which is to say that this is early Perpendicular. The chancel is older, as you can tell by the lancet windows on the south side, though the east window is also Perpendicular and obviously came later. You step into a big, light church, still with a feel of the country around about it, everything simple yet necessary. The modern wooden floor is neat and unobtrusive. The surviving part of the rood screen is quiet yet interesting. Pevsner points to the unusual tracery at the top which is, as he says, nearly flamboyant, suggestive of a very late date right on the eve of the Reformation. Either side of it are sets of triple image niches, accentuating the wide nave. Beside those on the north side the roodloft stairway runs up beside the window, and the great George II royal arms hangs dourly on the wall beside it.

The 14th Century font probably came as part of the rebuilding of the nave, and has pretty yet anonymous tracery patterns. In a more elaborate space it would not stand out, but here it becomes a focus in the nave, just as the busy Gospel scenes in the east window dominate the simple sanctuary. They depict Christ blessing the children and the last Supper, flanking the Ascension. The maker is not recorded, but I wondered if they could be the late 19th Century work of J & J King, a Norwich workshop whose style they resemble. The chancel's low-side window has gone, but its shelf survives like that at neighbouring Wramplingham. On the other side of the chancel is a jaunty organ with the keyboard on the side. Mounted on a desk is a recovered brass plaque to Robert Sedley, who departed this mortall lyfe on Wedensday the 30 of June Anno Domini 1613 and in the 11th yeare of his Majesties Raigne, Meaning James I of course. Also of interest is the 1902 memorial to Frances Stone, which tells us that she was courageous, mirthful, courteous to all and abounding in charity.

I stepped back outside into the heat of the day and got back on my bike to head on to Marlingford. But back in 2006 I had picked my way carefully into the ploughed field to take the first of the smaller photographs at the top of this page. Behind me, I heard a flurry and the beating of air as hundreds of lapwings took flight, and I remembered that now.

Simon Knott, August 2021

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