The Priory At Horsham St Faith…
Industrial units lay adjacent to the Priory at the end of West Lane, Horsham St Faith. Beyond, the lazy grasslands of Norwich’s airport extended almost to the village’s outskirts and I walked to the driveway of the Priory itself.
The sign, somewhat Gothic it appeared, warned of dogs being on the prowl. Useful that, for I was on foot with little chance of escape and dogs do tend to veer towards me, for whatever reason…
On I pressed, regardless, hesitating at a porch door, set to indicate my arrival but then I became aware of, er, dogs. Their combined barking possibly recreated the noise and fear factor of one of the battles of the Somme and their leaping manoeuvres to view the damned trespasser seemed to suggest that someone had scattered red hot coals upon the lounge floor.
There was no response from the house itself, just the terrifying snarls of hungry predatory mutts, but presently the owner sauntered into view from somewhere in the grounds and I was welcomed not so much with a smile, or open arms, more with the suspicion and distaste reserved for a 1950s Birmingham Council rent collector in the Lozells area.
He showed me to a place with a boundary like that of a walled garden, the structure sparkling with chunks of flint, then he abruptly opened a pair of wooden doors to an unknown part of his house, which was sparsely decorated and presented like a chapel. The fellow, more shabby than chic, more miserable than magnanimous, was in a rush to get to his computer for 2pm, when the Wall Street Stock Market opened and he left me to explore the unlit room and its remarkable wall-paintings.
St Faith was depicted releasing captives from their
attackers but the rich colours of the boat containing two monks travelling to England and the unique representation of a wheelbarrow were as breathtaking as they were rare.
This sojourn proved worthy towards my search for St Faith and my quest for evidence of the martyr, whose shrine in Conques, France was probably the highlight for me...
I carefully edged my way from the Priory, hoping that the dogs had been secured indoors and headed into the old quarter of Norwich…
It’s what I do…
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