Heading out into the Norfolk countryside today to find the ruin of a church that was supposedly struck by lightning, and looking into the myth of the demon dog of the broads. 
The All Saints Church in Billockby was a fine flint-built church first built in the middle ages, but with most of the surviving stone dating back to the 15th century.
The town was built on the watery fens of the Norfolk broads, on the River Bure.
It's mentioned in the Domesday Book as a place of lush meadows, and a community of 20 households.
It's mentioned in the Domesday Book as a place of lush meadows, and a community of 20 households.
Billockby's old church sits on top of a low rise in the otherwise flat chalk landscape.
It's a long walk along country paths.
It's a long walk along country paths.
Although tractors and lorries thunder along the roads nearby, it's perfectly quiet in the churchyard.
The lightning strike that supposedly destroyed the church took place during a freak storm one night in 1762.
It caused a dramatic crack to splinter the flint pebble tower, leaving a distinctive pattern to this day.
While services went on inside the chancel, the nave was abandoned, left to turn into an overgrown jungle of ivy and elder.
It was fun to clamber around inside this forgotten place.
Some of the fine stone tracery still remains on the windows, reminding visitors of the love and resources put into building this place.
Some parts of the church have been so overtaken by nature that they no longer look manmade.
A view of the eastern side of the nave, overgrown with ivy:
A view of the eastern side of the nave, overgrown with ivy:
The remains of the West window are particularly dramatic.
I love to learn about the folklore that attaches itself to ruined places.
There's an old piece of Norfolk folklore about a mythical beast called Black Shuck who roams the broads, and who's particularly associated with storms like the one that shattered Billockby church.
There's an old piece of Norfolk folklore about a mythical beast called Black Shuck who roams the broads, and who's particularly associated with storms like the one that shattered Billockby church.
"He takes the form of a huge black dog," wrote WA Dutt in 1901, "and prowls along dark lanes and lonesome field footpaths."
Shuck derives partially from the fierce North Sea storms that can rock this part of England.
Shuck derives partially from the fierce North Sea storms that can rock this part of England.
After a lightning storm in 1577, villagers of Bungay & Blythburgh reported being terrorised by a fierce creature.
London writer Abraham Flemming called it "a strange & terrible wunder":
"This black dog, or the devil in such a likeness, running all along the body of the church"
London writer Abraham Flemming called it "a strange & terrible wunder":
"This black dog, or the devil in such a likeness, running all along the body of the church"
In Southery, the ruins of the old church have strange marks on the stones of the old charnel house, where monks were once buried.
It's said that these are the teethmarks of Black Shuck, gnawing at the foundations, trying to get at the sanctified bones buried inside.
It's said that these are the teethmarks of Black Shuck, gnawing at the foundations, trying to get at the sanctified bones buried inside.
The old legend has proved remarkably resilient, and local folklorists are still documenting reported sightings of the demonic black dog around the East Anglian wilds: hiddenea.com/shuckland/intr…
Part of its resilience has been its link to these material ruins of the past.
Part of its resilience has been its link to these material ruins of the past.
There were once over a thousand medieval churches in Norfolk, and hundreds of their ruined towers still dot the landscape.
Many of them were built on even more ancient pre-Christian sites of worship, so it seems fitting that folklore grows over them just as thickly as the ivy.
Many of them were built on even more ancient pre-Christian sites of worship, so it seems fitting that folklore grows over them just as thickly as the ivy.
The myth was certainly playing on my mind as I took one last look at the shattered tower, and I made sure that I couldn't hear the pad of heavy paws behind me.
Thanks for listening! I'd like to keep exploring more of Britain's ruined places and reporting back what I find.
If you want to help chip in for my bus fare, you can do it here: Ko-fi.com/paulmmcooper
If you want to help chip in for my bus fare, you can do it here: Ko-fi.com/paulmmcooper
You can follow more of my ruin explorations here:
