Twyford, Derbyshire

 The third Twyford on our schedule is perched on the banks of the River Trent, between Derby and Burton-on-Trent.

A bit of initial research on Google Earth and the OS Map suggested that there wasn't much here apart from a large, working farm and the church, so this was officially designated 'the Twyford where we were most likely to be accosted to by a chap with a Barbour jacket and a shotgun shouting "gerroff mah land!"'. We went on a Saturday in the hopes that he'd have better things to do.

The close-up view

Twyford on the big map

Sure enough, when we arrived, just on the curve of the little yellow road, was an ominous sign saying "private road - keep out". But, fear not, we had rights-of-way on our side. The little triangle junction just next to the 'd' of Twyford offered a nice big parking space and there were multiple routes to pick our way towards the church. The most direct route was a tad overgrown for two people wearing summer bare-leg clothing, so we forged a path across the fields on the path from Old Hall Farm, only sustaining one or two nettle stings.

We also had to contend with the road crossing. While by all accounts the pink-ish road should have been a quiet country B-road, on this particular Saturday it had apparently gifted every middle-aged pillock in an SUV the right to drive like Max Verstappen if he was late for a job interview. After a couple of near-death experiences, the nettles looked positively welcoming.

This was starting to feel like one countryside adventure too far, but it all became quickly worth it when the fields gave way to this little beauty:

St. Andrew's church, from the fields

St. Andrew's church if you cheat and ignore
the 'private road' signs

That tower is authentically old: dating from the 13th and 14th centuries, possibly with Norman foundations. The rest is an entertaining hodge-podge from Victorian and Edwardian times, the church having suffered multiple fires around this time. But that tower is a work of architecture, given its age. And, apparently, despite being only 100 yards from one of the largest rivers in the country, flooding has never been a problem.

The chancel arch. How many buildings  randomly
 in the middle of farms do YOU know that 
over 900 years old?

The door was welcomingly ajar, and we went inside to see the famous Norman chancel arch. This is comfortably over 900 years old and in immaculate condition.

If you squint carefully, you can still see the remnants of fresco paintings on both sides: in the middle ages, this would have been a whitewashed, ornamental and colourful treat. Sadly, there's not enough paint left to identify what the subject would have been.

The arch is at odds with the 19th century wooden refurbishment, but the 14th century chancel (this really is a church that has been well looked-after down the generations) still contains some reminders of the church's long history

The chancel and tower from
outside - you can see the chancel is
slightly more modern

The stained glass window in
the chancel

The stone slab commemorating Richard 
Harpur of Littleover

Of particular interest, given our quest, was the huge piece of slate on one wall of the chancel, a legacy of Richard Harpur, who died in 1658, according to the plaque.

However, there's no evidence that old Dickie was actually buried under the slab, so does it count as the oldest grave? It seemed doubtful.

The grave of James Wheldon, 1795

After picking up our souvenirs - a guidebook and some postcards - in exchange for a well-earned donation, we went outside to see if we could find the legitimate earliest grave.

The guidebook pointed us towards a holly tree (note the accompanying ivy - it's not just a Christmas song, folks) and the grave of James Wheldon, who apparently died age 15 in 1795 after being gored by a bull in the farm nearby. Clearly trespassing is a hobby that transcends centuries. As best we could tell, the nearby fields contained nothing more terrifying than some sheep, not known for their goring prowess.

The grave of John Mason, 1748.
The oldest we could find

But James wasn't the earliest grave we'd found. John Mason was laid to rest in 1748, and had a peaceable and pretty rest in eternity beneath a different holly tree and amidst the wildflowers. Certainly one of the prettier graves we've seen so far. No sign of a fish, sadly: the 'Twyford fish' allusion is petering out fast...

'Mason' seems to be a surname with quite a bit of history in Twyford. Looking around the graveyard, the vast majority of the tombstones had been updated and refurbished, with the original, plainer stone propping up the new ornamental ones. We concluded that either the locals were very attached to the legacy of their ancestors, or that a jobbing monumental mason had a significant amount of time on their hands in the past. A descendant of John Mason? It's a beguiling theory.

...many of them in tandem with the
original, plainer stone

A variety of new-ish ornamental gravestones - the area
 behind the chancel was by no means
the only place to feature them...

The three chiming bells in the tower.
Electricity distribution box and
kettle thought to be non-original

So what of the fords? Many of our Twyfords were over small burbling brooks and sullen drainage ditches - hardly a challenge to engineering skills, even centuries ago. But this Twyford stands virtually on the banks of the Trent, a serious-sized major river. The Trent does have a reputation for being plodding and slow, though, and our helpful guidebook gave us more clues to the history.

The church of St Andrew was originally in the care of the Knights Hospitaller, an order of monks who provided sustenance for pilgrims, in this case pilgrims on their way to Repton, just on the south bank. Repton is perhaps now better known as the home of the prep school that educated Roald Dahl, but before that the shrine of St Wystan drew pilgrims from north of the Trent, many of whom no doubt stopped at Twyford before making the river crossing. Even today, Repton's cricket club is nicknamed the Pilgrims. Anyway, it's clear a river crossing must have been present for a long time, and it doesn't take much imagination to find it: the site of a ferry that ran until the 1960s betrays the location of what was surely once a ford:

The river directly south of the church. Note the old ferry mooring post directly in front of the tree, and the characteristic dropped bank on the far side. Surely a ford once...

The river to the west. Possible
second ford here?

So, any sign of the other ford? Not obviously, it has to be said. There is a possible narrowing of a hundred yards upriver, in the photo to the left, but we had no way of checking it out. Alternatively, in the other direction, there is a canoeing centre a half-mile downstream, and it seems very likely that they launch canoes from a shallow-banked slipway that may well have been the bank of a ford. But again, there was no access to the canoeing centre to enquire. If anyone has been canoeing on the Trent, I'd love to hear from you.

Our souvenirs, including the invaluable guidebook

Despite not finding the second ford, this is still a thoroughly commendable day out. A beautiful church in an unexpected and remote location, plenty of history, AND we didn't get shot by any itinerant farmers. If anyone fancies taking on their first Twyford, it's this one I'd recommend!

Our next journey was only about half an hour away. Join us again in Twyford, Leicestershire.