I set out into the Norfolk countryside in search of one of the most beautiful & least-visited ruins in England.
I wanted to find the church of St Mary's. Local folklore claims this as the resting place of the Somerton Witch, whose ghost is supposed to haunt its abandoned nave.
I wanted to find the church of St Mary's. Local folklore claims this as the resting place of the Somerton Witch, whose ghost is supposed to haunt its abandoned nave.
It was a grey & rainy day. I set out early in the morning, & took a couple of buses out to the coast, into the parish of Martham.
From there, I still had a walk of an hour along country lanes, through the low undulating land of Norfolk.
(this is my "getting-rained-on" face)
From there, I still had a walk of an hour along country lanes, through the low undulating land of Norfolk.
(this is my "getting-rained-on" face)
The landscape of Norfolk is ancient, & famously flat & featureless.
It's a chalk landscape, built over tens of millions of years by microscopic sea creatures that worked on the calcium of long-forgotten seas, then smoothed flat by the procession of the glaciers.
It's a chalk landscape, built over tens of millions of years by microscopic sea creatures that worked on the calcium of long-forgotten seas, then smoothed flat by the procession of the glaciers.
The villages here are small & far apart, with names dating back to Saxon, Middle & Old English origins.
Here archaeologists have found traces of round barrows, bronze age burial sites, as well as Roman artefacts. (heritage.norfolk.gov.uk/record-details…)
Here archaeologists have found traces of round barrows, bronze age burial sites, as well as Roman artefacts. (heritage.norfolk.gov.uk/record-details…)
Ancient and modern remains: The walk took me past Britain's first & smallest wind farm at Blood Hill, near Hemsby, built on ancient farmlands.
The earliest evidence of human activity in these areas includes finds from the Mesolithic & Neolithic periods.
The earliest evidence of human activity in these areas includes finds from the Mesolithic & Neolithic periods.
Nodules of flint form in chalk beds, & Norfolk flint was crucial to the stone age economy.
Neolithic mines dot the landscape like lunar craters here. The deepest could be as much as 60ft deep.
Neolithic mines dot the landscape like lunar craters here. The deepest could be as much as 60ft deep.
Before long, I got lost. I had to cut across a field.
As I went, I remembered the stories early Christians told about this area. Seeing the ancient flint mines that still pocked the landscape, they claimed that this was where the pagan gods had led people down into hell.
As I went, I remembered the stories early Christians told about this area. Seeing the ancient flint mines that still pocked the landscape, they claimed that this was where the pagan gods had led people down into hell.
The ruin I wanted to find was hidden in the tiny village of East Somerton.
Somerton is an ancient place. The name derives from the Old English for "summer enclosure", suggesting the movement of animals between summer & winter pastures (a village called Winterton is nearby).
Somerton is an ancient place. The name derives from the Old English for "summer enclosure", suggesting the movement of animals between summer & winter pastures (a village called Winterton is nearby).
As I got closer to the spot on the map, the paths got smaller, edging off into woodland.
The rain was really starting to come down. The land was overgrown with wild woods, ancient growths of forest bearded by ivies & vines.
I began to think I wasn't going to find anything.
The rain was really starting to come down. The land was overgrown with wild woods, ancient growths of forest bearded by ivies & vines.
I began to think I wasn't going to find anything.
My map took me off onto a rough track & into the forest.
The rain had washed all the leaves a brilliant green, so it felt like a wild & tangled jungle. Flights of crows burst off into the sky whenever I disturbed them.
The rain had washed all the leaves a brilliant green, so it felt like a wild & tangled jungle. Flights of crows burst off into the sky whenever I disturbed them.
I kept peering through the trees, looking for the recognisable line of a broken wall.
It wasn't until I got quite close that I realised the ruined church stood right ahead of me, almost invisible in wreaths of ivy.
It wasn't until I got quite close that I realised the ruined church stood right ahead of me, almost invisible in wreaths of ivy.
Crunching through the wet undergrowth with the crows cackling in the trees, that old story about the ghostly witch of the Somerton ruin began to nag at the corners of my mind.
I got shivers stepping up close to the old 15th-century church.
Nothing had prepared me for the eerie beauty of this ancient thing, lost in the middle of the forest.
Nothing had prepared me for the eerie beauty of this ancient thing, lost in the middle of the forest.
Due to conservation efforts, it's rare these days to find a ruin so overgrown with wildlife.
The wreaths of ivy & elder growing all over these crumbling walls reminded me of Turner's 1794 paintings of Tintern Abbey - a wild, Arcadian paradise.
The wreaths of ivy & elder growing all over these crumbling walls reminded me of Turner's 1794 paintings of Tintern Abbey - a wild, Arcadian paradise.
Huge oak trees & beeches rose up all around the ruin, abutting its old walls.
Walking under the great crumbling arches of the lost chancel was a surreal experience. They seem suspended in mid-air, about to fall at any moment.
Walking under the great crumbling arches of the lost chancel was a surreal experience. They seem suspended in mid-air, about to fall at any moment.
In the centre of the ruined church, an oak tree has put down its roots, & now pushes up through the point where the roof would once have been.
This is the key to the folklore of the witch of Somerton.
This is the key to the folklore of the witch of Somerton.
Local legend has it that a witch was once executed in the parish, buried alive in the nave of the Somerton church.
But the witch had her revenge: she cursed the church, & her wooden leg grew into this oak tree, destroying the roof & sending the church into ruin.
But the witch had her revenge: she cursed the church, & her wooden leg grew into this oak tree, destroying the roof & sending the church into ruin.
The legend says that anyone who walks around this tree 3 times will awake the spirit of the witch to haunt them.
Needless to say, I was very careful to cross the tree only on one side while exploring this ruin.
Needless to say, I was very careful to cross the tree only on one side while exploring this ruin.
Although I like to think I don't scare easily, being alone in the woods in this crumbling old ruin, thinking about that story, did set my nerves on edge.
While looking up into the bell tower, a flock of pigeons burst away from their roosts all at once, & I jumped out of my skin.
While looking up into the bell tower, a flock of pigeons burst away from their roosts all at once, & I jumped out of my skin.
Folklore grows over ancient ruins just as verdantly as the ivy.
That's because ruins make strangely senseless things on their own. Broken walls enclose nothing. Crumbling staircases suddenly lead to nowhere. Trees grow indoors. We tell stories to make sense of this strangeness.
That's because ruins make strangely senseless things on their own. Broken walls enclose nothing. Crumbling staircases suddenly lead to nowhere. Trees grow indoors. We tell stories to make sense of this strangeness.
Everyone reacts to this senselessness in their own way.
That's part of the reason people try to place their own meaning onto these stones, dotting them with graffiti & tags.
They want to feel part of the passage of time embodied in the ruin, making it a carrier of their name.
That's part of the reason people try to place their own meaning onto these stones, dotting them with graffiti & tags.
They want to feel part of the passage of time embodied in the ruin, making it a carrier of their name.
The huge beards of ivy run all over the walls, a beautiful sight, forming a natural roost for pigeons & crows.
The walls of the church are built of the same knapped flint used by stone age peoples, in this area devoid of other building stones - very common for Norfolk churches.
The walls of the church are built of the same knapped flint used by stone age peoples, in this area devoid of other building stones - very common for Norfolk churches.
The ruin performs its familiar trick: it embodies the passage of a great amount time, but also seems like a place where time stands still.
I started messing around with taking video in the ruin, making myself a point of stillness around which the ruin turned.
I started messing around with taking video in the ruin, making myself a point of stillness around which the ruin turned.
Walking around the ruin made me think of Wordsworth's lines in his poem Peter Bell, how nature's transforming power turns the rock & stones of the building into a living wall, to blend with the surrounding trees.
(books.google.co.uk/books?id=cFkJA…)
(books.google.co.uk/books?id=cFkJA…)
In reality, the Somerton church was probably abandoned due to the decline of population in Norfolk after its medieval heyday.
But as I took one last walk around the crumbling walls & then left, I couldn't help but glance over my shoulder to make sure nothing was following.
But as I took one last walk around the crumbling walls & then left, I couldn't help but glance over my shoulder to make sure nothing was following.
Thanks for listening! I'd like to take a moment to thank @gawanmac for his legendary foggy church thread, which inspired me to go exploring in my own neighbourhood.
I hope to keep exploring more of England’s secret ruined places, so stay tuned for more.
And if you’d like to chip in for my bus fare, you can do so here. ko-fi.com/paulmmcooper
And if you’d like to chip in for my bus fare, you can do so here. ko-fi.com/paulmmcooper
