Just give me a sign

Even if no one agrees what a red fingerpost denotes, rural communities still cherish their historic signage

- Richard Webber

THEY have been an integral part of the countryside’s fabric for centuries and still play a vital role in our everyday lives, despite the advent of the satnav. We’re talking about fingerposts, the collection of (primarily) black-and-white signposts at junctions. Their sole purpose is to help us navigate our way along Britain’s complex network of roads and narrow country lanes where, let’s face it, it’s all too easy to get lost. Sadly, these items of road furniture are increasingly taken for granted and neglected, despite being a valuable part of our rural and cultural heritage.

When it comes to charting fingerpost history, there is a surprising dearth of information, although it’s claimed that our oldest known post dates to 1669, in Chipping Campden, Gloucestershire. The original is kept by a local history group; a replica stands in its place.

In terms of legislation, 1697 is the first notable date in the history books when some semblance of organisation started to emerge —or, at least, that was the intention. It became a requirement for markers to be placed at remote crossroads indicating the direction of the nearest town or village. At that time, parishes were responsible for maintaining long-distance routes between settlements, but, unfortunately, they were often forgotten and nothing more than pothole-ridden mud tracks.