I will say I’ve had a “challenging” week, as the words I wish to use are predominantly expletives, and I want this to be relatively family-friendly. In order not to commit some form of atrocity at work, I felt the need to get out of the house and explore.

I had intended to visit Knowlton Church and Earthworks for a few weeks, and it looked like the sort of place that would offer the much-needed peaceful escape. I’d found it by accident while map-surfing an Ordnance Survey map of the area. An activity that generally devolves into laughing at amusing place names; hence, both “Slap Bottom” and “Slop Bog” are on my list of local spots to visit (both real, and there are far more within easy reach of my house, living in the New Forest can be very entertaining).

Knowlton Church and Earthworks is an abandoned Norman Church which sits in the centre of a Neolithic earthwork. It’s an English Heritage property, although a free entry, unattended one, complete with a marvellous creaky old iron gate to let yourself in.

The English Heritage website warning of “very limited parking” was potentially the most accurate information I’ve read online in some time. The property lies down a single-track road which lacks any verges suitable for parking. A lay-by outside the gate has just enough space for four cars, assuming everyone parks judiciously. When I arrived, a Land Rover had not parked in a judicious manner.

I parked up in the remaining space in the lay-by, embedding my car into the undergrowth enough to have to navigate carefully through the nettles jutting out from the wall (Unfortunately trapping a selection of them in the car door on my return journey). 

The ruins of the church and the raised bank are clearly visible from the lay-by, I fumbled with the iron gate for a while before it gave a satisfying loud creak and let me into the passage through the bank to the Church inside.

My immediate urge to head for the ruins of the church in the centre was offset by my urge to avoid having to interact with the four squawking heathens having a picnic (assuming a picnic can consist of beer, fags and biscuits) cluttering up the grass in front of the entrance. I correctly assumed it was them who had parked their massive Land Rover by the entrance, I also picked up the litter they left all over the grass on my way out. I hope the spirits of the mound have enthusiastically cursed them.

Walking around the mound gave me beautiful views of the rural farmland surrounding the site, the fields full of hay bales, and a couple of light aircraft swooping across the sky. I later read that the surrounding fields also contain some sections of the earthworks, but I did not know this then, and so did nothing about it. The view of the church ruins from the mound is fantastic. It resides in the centre of the hollow of the earthworks, with the setting sun casting sharp shadows across the enclosure making for a very dramatic view. At any moment, I was expecting a sadness of goths to come meandering across the scene, humming  Fad Gadget songs.

I decided to approach the church from the rear, mainly to avoid having to communicate with squawking heathens for as long as possible (note: I had made polite exchanges with the old couple walking their dogs, I don’t dislike everyone). Fortunately, as I started exploring, it became clear I had invaded the heathen’s space too much, and they got up and left.

There’s not much church to explore, a few walls and an intact-ish tower, but it’s lovely and fascinating, I was particularly taken by the main doorway and the path leading up to it,  considering the centuries it had stood here out in the middle of nowhere with the local community making their regular visits through that doorway.

Church explored (walked through a few. times) I made a final circuit of the earthworks and in doing so discovered the little tunnel between the Yew Trees at the back of the site. I ducked into the tunnel to find it full of handwritten notes, ribbons and other tokens. On reading up later, I found it’s been nominated as a wishing tree by the local community, which seems somewhat strange given its remote location. It was a weird and touching moment discovering this hidden, unassuming place beneath the trees, full of people’s hopes and wishes.

Onward and back to the normality of the office, a quick chat with a dog that wanted me to admire its ball on the way out.

I’m going to neglect to talk about the history or architecture here, as that’s been heavily covered elsewhere. The English Heritage Site gives some good information https://www.english-heritage.org.uk/visit/places/knowlton-church-and-earthworks/history/prehistoric-earthworks/, and Haunted Britain gives some information from another perspective https://www.haunted-britain.com/knowlton-church.htm

Aside from the striking moment when I found the wishing tree, I’m not going to pretend I felt any presence in the place (aside from the aforementioned Squawking Heathens), but I did feel a sense of calm and peace, which is after all what I was seeking.

Overall, it’s worth a visit, but the access is limited, and on a busy day (assuming such a thing happens there), you may find it frustrating. I tried to find any nearby footpaths that would allow me to park elsewhere and walk over but it doesn’t look like that’s much of an option without walking down some fairly fast roads with no pavements.

I want to return another day when I have less noise in my head and can plan for the light better, I got some reasonable pictures but irritability did me no favours and an hour later would have given some truly beautiful light. Maybe I’ll stay for the night and see if I can spot any of the various phantoms that are said to haunt the environs (I wouldn’t last past midnight).