Furtho
is approached via a lane lined with chestnut trees but it is not really
a village these days. In the 17th century Edward Furtho enclosed the
parish, depopulated the village, diverted the main road and gave the
estate over to sheep grazing. All that remains today of the original
village is the church and a dovecote. There is a modern bungalow, an
older cottage and a few farm buildings with the inevitable clutter associated
with modern farming.
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My
first sight of the church was not promising. No obvious way into the
church yard and ring fenced by farm rubbish it had a sad look to it. |
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a complete circuit of the church was necessary before I found the way
in and a marked improvement in viewpoint. Although I am not deeply religious
old churches do have a 'power' and I am ever mindful of the assertion
made by the Royal Air Force that 'there are no atheists in a rubber dinghy'. |
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Paradoxically,
closer proximity to the headstones gave a reminder that this was once
the heartbeat of the village. I did not visualise the funerals, just the
weddings, christenings and the social interaction that took place hundreds
of years ago. |
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churches are open all the time but the fact that a few remain closed always
generates a sense of hopeful anticipation as the door latch is tried. |
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The
interior reflected the fact that the church, although still consecrated,
does not see regular services. The light was not in the least bit gloomy
but it was not light enough for me to hold focus on the font in the foreground |
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Structurally
the church was very sound and that is thanks to the Arnold Trust and
Friends of Friendless Churches who funded a restoration in 1972. The
stone pulpit looked brand new, or at least recently sand blasted, but
the lack of electricity meant wooden candleholder chandeliers. |
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Even
during the peace of a walk old churches offer extra tranquility as well
as shelter in bad weather, cool air on hot summer days and most significantly
food for thought. It is always a pull to leave them to resume walking. |
