When I pulled into the lay-by next to St Mary and St David I got an electric sense this church was special. And it turned out to be. A perfect gem nestled amongst two yews in a celtic egg-shaped graveyard (no corner for the devil to hide in) at the end of a zig-zag path (the devil can only travel in straight lines(!?)). Surrounded by perfect, beautiful ancient countryside; 9th century village remains under a ragged adjoining field; a castle for a next door neighbour, remains of a stone circle; green men, a famous sheela na gig, angels and demons aplenty; a beautiful carved stoup borrowed from Wormbridge; a possibly saxon font; four heads spouting four rivers down the semicircular apse on a site where dowsers have confirmed four streams meet. I could hardly believe my eyes. It's everything I love in small rural churches. A time machine into deep history, full of artistry, pragmatism, a hodge-podge of eras and intentions, a mashup of belief systems. And noble modern attempts to keep it maintained.

One of the famous features of the church are the superb/supernatural/grotesque/hilarious corbels. I have separated those into a separate section below.

Alas, entry to this church requires a key from a nearby farm but having spent the better part of the morning at St Mary and St David's I didn't have time to collect. Instead I wandered the graveyard and peeked in the windows. St Jame's came under the protectorship of the Friends of Friendless Churches last year and the interior suggests work is in progress. Atmospheric locale.

Another Friendless church, but a quiet lovely place with apparently the oldest bells in Monmouthshire. Another stunning wagon roof (see All Saints, Shorncote) and some interesting paper illustrations of the stations of the cross mounted on the walls around the church (9th photo below).