There is a charmingly cute little church in the middle of the Essex countryside that isn’t particularly close to anywhere, and no one is really sure why it’s there.

This is St Mary’s Buttsbury, and a church has been here since the 14th century – but more amazingly these days, thanks to its rural location, it’s one of the few churches to still be lit by candles for services.

But why it’s here is a mystery.

The secular suggestion is that there may have been a small village in the area, possibly Roman in origin, called Joyberd in Saxon times and Ginges (or Cinga) in the Domesday Book. There is enough archaeological evidence to suggest that there were dwellings near the church, but whether they were the mentioned village or were enough to support it is unclear.

Even less clearly understood is why the village isn’t there anymore.

Theories range from land clearance to the Black Death, executions following a peasants’ revolt, or maybe being next to a river meant it flooded too often. It could simply be that the nearby village of Stock was growing thanks to the grant of a charter to operate a market, and people moved away for work.

The more romantic theory is that the church’s patron saint, St Botolph, preached under a pear tree in the area of Buttsbury, and that a church was built on the spot to commemorate the event.

(Yes, I am publishing this article on St Botolph’s Day)

Whatever the reason for it being here, the exact date a church was built is unknown, but it is first mentioned in 1190, when Buttsbury was given to the nunnery of St Leonard-atte-bow in London.

The current church isn’t quite that old, but a bit of it is so very much older. The impressive-looking north door has been carbon-dated to 1156-1180, and the medieval ironwork may be even older, dating to the Viking period. Today, the door is of national significance.

The rest of the church has a short 14th-century nave, with 15th-century north and south aisles wider than they are long. The layout may point to the original Saxon design for the first church. The aisles are built mainly in flint rubble with stone dressings and large 14th-century east windows; they were heavily renovated in the 18th and 19th centuries.

The chancel was also built in the 14th century, although it too has undergone renovation and reconstruction

During a 1876 restoration, the east window was fitted in the Perpendicular style, while the windows on the north and south sides were fitted in the late 18th and early 19th centuries, and the exterior was heavily refurbished with cement mortar.

The west tower is built of brick and was reconstructed in the 18th century, with a weatherboarded top and brick buttresses. It replaced a previously taller spire. The church was nearly destroyed during WWII when a bomb landed nearby, and the church was restored in 1949. A priest’s door was uncovered in the 1980s, which was apparently blocked up some 400 years earlier.

More recent restorations and repairs have taken place because, despite or maybe thanks to its rural location, it’s still a functioning church.

It’s also unusual for most CofE churches, as St Mary’s is open to visitors every day. Well, unless you turn up on their annual Rogation Sunday, as I had, and the church wasn’t going to be opened until later in the day.

Seriously, what were the chances!

I was about to accept that photos through the glass windows would suffice when God smiled and sent the volunteer groundskeeper to do some work in the graveyard, who kindly offered to unlock the door.

It’s a plain interior, but it was probably once richly painted until Cromwell’s Puritans turned up with a pot of white paint. A fragment survives near the altar, thought to possibly be from the last supper.

The floor looks old, but dates to the post-WWII restoration. Before that, it was just bare soil, and an old tradition would have covered the floor with rushes on the Sunday closest to St. Botolph’s Day.

There aren’t many memorials in the church, and just two ledger stones in the ground. One is for Edward Francklin and the other for his daughter Ann Lockley.

However, it is easy to overlook if you’re not aware of its situation, the main feature of the church services – the candles. You often see one or two candles in churches, and maybe in some old but empty candle holders. But here at St Mary’s, the lack of electricity means all the wooden poles have a well-used candle in the top waiting to be lit once again.

For the religious who turn up for a service, it must be quite a magical experience, a moment away from modern life as they step back to how things were done in the past.

As mentioned above, apart from the odd glitch, the church is open daily to visit. If the door is locked, you can peer through the plain glass and still get a decent view of the interior. There’s also a guidebook next to the door available for a £5 donation.

In my case, I was visiting the church on my way to Ingatestone Hall, and the walk across the fields is delightful – and do turn around occasionally to look back at the church.