E5. Searching for a Shadow Church

The penultimate episode of our gripping first series, where host Victoria Jenner takes you on a journey through history. In this episode, we invite you to explore the forgotten village of Wolfhampcote, and its haunting church that has refused to die. Joined by renowned author Matthew Green, we uncover the secrets of this lost village and its conflicting landscape - caught between existence and timelessness. Join us on this captivating adventure through the Shadowlands, as we search for answers about Wolfhampcote's mysterious past in a deserted medieval village.

If you would like to make some memories, why not give champing a try? For everything you need to know about Champing™ visit: https://champing.co.uk/

The champing season happens in those warmer months, between March and October, so book now.  

This podcast has been written and produced by me: Victoria Jenner. My guest has been Dr Matthew Greene, and special thanks goes to: Fiona Silk who runs ‘Champing’, our champing assistants and Dr Alex Langlands, Doctoral student Shelley Williams and Lewis Cooper. Sound recording was managed by Leigh-Anne Beattie, editing by Jamie Reed Sounds. Music by Nick Varey and design by George Allen. 

This podcast is brought to you by the Churches Conservation Trust.

Chapters

• 0:00 "Evidence of sheep everywhere"
• 2:24 Deserted Medieval Villages with Dr Alex Langlands
• 7:52 Meet our Guest: Dr Matthew Green
• 11:29 Search for an abandoned medieval village
• 27:11 Who doesn't like a surprise quiz?
• 27:55 A walk back in the dark
• 31:51 A Church that has refused to die
• 38:15 Morning reflection
• 41:10 Credits

Transcript

So there is evidence of sheep everywhere. Bits of little fluffy wool. I found wool inside the church find their droppings. You hear the bleeting and you can see the herds grazing. And, you know, this church was probably built due to the wealth from the wool trade. and I love how it's like the sheep seem to know it, like they had a part in building it, and they are completely comfortable rubbing along the stone walls and resting against the tombstones.

The sheep are certainly at home in this place that they helped build.

Welcome to the Champing podcast. You may be thinking, And what sort of word is that? So which I answer it is a combination of the words church and camping, and it amuses me no end. Champing is a unique concept of Champing overnight in historic churches brought to the world by the Churches Conservation Trust, the national charity protecting redundant churches.

Over 10,000 of happy campers have stayed in their churches that are dotted all over England. So in this podcast series, we embark on our very own sleepover, but with a twist. Each week I invite a new sleepover guest to join me, Victoria Jenner, to spend a night within ancient walls. Together, we explore the secrets of a new church and the mysteries it inspires.

This week, I invite you to explore a church that has refused to die quite literally. Wolfram coat stands on the edge of Warwickshire, but its path is only visible in the few buildings and ruins that remain. In this episode, I am joined by author Matthew Green as we set out to uncover the secrets of this forgotten village. We are met with a conflicting landscape, one that still exists yet almost feels lost in time.

Join us as we embark on this journey of discovery amongst the Shadowlands, as we search for answers around Wolfhamcote’s mysterious path, let's travel back to a deserted medieval village.

Hiya. Oh, hello, Alex. Hi. Can you hear me? Yes, I can, yeah. Great. Great. How are you? I'm very well. Yeah. Very well. I am talking to one of England's best-known farmers, doctor Alex Langlands, a regular on our TV screens due to his passion for historic farming, wildlife and the wonderful British countryside. You may know him for the show Victorian Farm and its sequels.

Yeah. I mean, it is an interesting, interesting period, really, because, on the one hand, as you say, we've got the kind of mythological Black death that comes along and creates sort of these deserted medieval villages or DMVs, as we like to call them, as archaeologists. And you can always rely on archaeologists to turn something really quite interesting and exciting into a very dry acronym.

But, the dmv's deserted medieval villages. I almost certainly I think the black detective did have an effect. It did have an effect, but it also came along at a time of change. Change, social change, but also climatic change as well. In Britain, there'd been in this sort of century of crisis, as we call it, the 14th century.

Right at the beginning of the century, there'd been a sort of series of really, really poor harvests and, lots of starvation and hunger, and that in some ways it sort of undermined the health of a whole generation. So when the Black Death came along, you know, it had a real sort of profound effect on numbers. But I don't think, you know, things changed overnight, as you say.

I mean, I think probably in some places they did, but actually we tend to think more in terms of long term settlement shift. Again, not as attractive as complete desertion, the kind of, Mary Celeste of the early of the medieval world. But that long term settlement shift really was coming about as a part of this have long, long term climatic change, social and economic changes and shifts in the way people were farming their landscapes.

You may be wondering, why are we talking about farming? Well, you may have first heard Shelley Williams at the beginning of our episode, and one of our keen campers mentioned that Saint Peter's Church in Waltham coach was built from wealth deriving from the wool trade. I wanted to speak to Alex to learn more about farming and what led to the desertion of communities such as these, now making them deserted medieval villages.

I mean, yeah, I mean, I could go on the changes, you see to landscape. You've already mentioned sheep as well. You know, what you what you're saying is sort of, an international market in wool growing up. And, and obviously, if you're a landlord, you're going to be looking at the best way to make the most amount of money.

And with the dwindling peasantry and the offer of good money, for producing wool, you're going to look to turn your landscape over to livestock. And that has an effect, certainly by the time you get to about 1500 into the 1600s. Okay, that has a long-term effect on the character of the English landscape and especially places like Warwickshire.

You could imagine in the Midlands. There you've got what we would call the old-fashioned long-standing tree field system, where you'd have two of those large, big open fields on the crops, and then that third field would be lying fallow for a year. You're resting that third field and lying it fallow. and those fields would be divided up into, strips.

So we talk about strip agriculture, region, furrow agriculture and, year on year, the peasantry would have their strips allotted to them, and they would work in individual strips in different parts of the field. That whole system really certainly by the time we get to around about 1600, has changed and is changing. Those fields are now being divided up.

So we're seeing the beginnings really of hedgerow is being introduced. so that iconic landscape that we often look out on in the Midlands, one of the sort of patchwork quilt of hedgerows, is really sort of forming at around about this time. And of course, the reason you want hedgerows is because you're managing livestock. and what you want in some ways is a more agile agricultural system.

So instead of everyone in the village being wedded to growing barley in one of one huge field, what you can do is divide that big field up and you can go over to barley, and there you can start to grow things like turnips as well, root crops. but you can also turn some of those fields back to grass and graze sheep.

And by grazing sheep, obviously you, you make a lot of money at this time, but you also put some fertility back into the soil. So we see those changes and that benefits many within society. But of course there are those that lose out because we also see the commons, the large stretches of land where, people would have maybe had a goat or a cow.

The commons are being divided up as well, and many sort of further down the social order in the peasantry would have been deprived of some of those opportunities. So it's a landscape, I think, of agricultural change that is reflecting in many ways the landscape of social change. Thank you so much, Alex, for all of your time today. And unless there's anything else you would like to say to add to the podcast?

No, it's been an absolute pleasure. I'm always happy to sit down with a cup of tea and chat historic farming, so thanks for the opportunity. Wonderful. Good to know. Take care. Alex. Thank you so much. You too. Bye.

I am currently waiting on the train platform at long Buck in Northamptonshire for my special guest for this episode. It is bustling with people, which surprises me for such a quaint small railway station. It is the nearest station, however, to Daventry, which is four miles away and serves those coming from London like Matthew Green. Matthew. Hi. I'm good.

How are you doing? I always step out to you are I know. Yeah, I joined the army today. Why? Because of you're on the. But yeah, because you were talking about like boots and brilliant. Ready for the landscape. Matthew is a historian and author of the very successful book Shadowlands. He takes readers on a lyrical and immersive journey through the forgotten towns and villages of British history, through vivid descriptions and untold stories, Matthew brings to life eight loss places that have been long forgotten but not erased from memory.

During our drive to Saint Peter's, Matthew tells me about his method. Well, I don't want to know too much about a place before I go there, if that makes sense. Because if you know everything, if you become an expert upon it, then you're sort of almost looking at things to tick off and it becomes an exercise. And that's a checkbox.

You need to be surprised by the landscape. You need to have a cut of chance discoveries. There needs to be an element of serendipity. and you also need to embrace the unknown and, be challenged. So when I was looking for my lost, cities and towns and villages, I would do a bit of research. I didn't I didn't just randomly walk in a direction and think, oh, I hope I run into a, you know, like a lost city.

Must be somewhere around it. I did kind of know where I was going. but then I would just always walk, never drive, sometimes cycle, sometimes sailed, and wander around. Just record everything that came into my head. Just into the car. Voice memo app. and then go back to the hotel room or wherever and transcribe it at night.

And some of it was like the champagne brightness, but not much. about kind of 10% of it ended up being salvageable. And then those would end up being the kind of travel bits. And in the book, then I would go and research it to death and, and interweave it, but never quite losing that original freshness of the first encounter.

And half an hour later, Matthew and I are about to have our first encounter of our very own shadow church in Waltham. Coats. We are driving down a very narrow, gravelly road off the A45 from Daventry to Dunkirk. We take it in turns to jump out of the car and open as many gates as we need to a big sign that we are looking after livestock and there are sheep in the area.

Do you want to go through the door? Shut it again? Yes. Yeah. Okay. There we go. We? Close it. Yes. Yeah. Okay. So we can see the church in the distance. It's, It's actually quite a sight to behold. It's got a kind of beautiful rusty. What? Look like no windows. It's got a kind of fortress like quality, but there's quite a presence.

I mean, it's complete and it's. It doesn't look like it's sort of in total, kind of mangled state. but you can also see other fragments of ruins over there. it's beautifully lit up with the kind of lost, luminous rays of the sun and.

All right. It looks beautiful. But Matthew and I are also keen to find the site of the abandoned wharf and coat village, whilst we still have the autumnal evening light. Right. I think this must be the track over to the canal. Well, this is the old canal before it was straightened. So, yeah. Shall we embark upon the journey?

Let's do it. We have found some clues to help us with our quest. We know Saint Peter's Church is situated near the River Leam, which forms the boundary between the county and Northamptonshire. The church stands on its own, between the embankments of the abandoned Great Railway and the London and Northwestern Railway to, and there is an abandoned railway bridge directly next to the church that you can find by going down this little overgrown track.

And what's more, the village is near the Oxford Canal, which we pass on our drive down. Between the church and the canal lies the site of the abandoned village. I think looking forward to this little walk. Yeah, it feels like, oh. We could have gone to that abandoned railway bridge. I mean, when I, when I said that it was in between the church and the railway, I didn't think it was like going to be in this field.

Right. But I expected, like, a 15-minute walk. I didn't think it was gonna be a big hike. So what are the key clues in the landscape, Matthew, that we should be looking out for? I would say this is quite promising, because it feels like it could be like the remainder of a path. You feel it's sort of like hollowed out.

And in fact, it's initially to be some kind of trackway. Whether that school, humans or animals or. But, I'd also expect to see, well, we'll know we're there because there's going to be hopefully some sort of stops of structures. So you'd expect to see, you know, the remnants of houses or other kind of buildings and sometimes, just weird kind of grooves in here, like some bumps and dips and grooves, which could be the first or even second floor buildings, sunken down.

if it was a kind of place of pasture, then we need to figure out where they would have had the sheep grazing. And before that, you know which fields would have been tilled, because the peasants got replaced by the sheep. And you have all this imagery of man-eating sheep. Okay. So perhaps if we go back on ourselves and then turn left towards the vicarage, we can find some of the old remains.

Yes. So I do just love being out here. So it's a place we could just walk that way, in case it happens to be. We won't be walking for ages. Eventually we'll find an abundance of it. Yeah, well, it's funny because people do expect, like, something they expect to find kind of like dead bodies and like rats and like, it's just been about which, of course, you never do.

And sometimes it's just a sort of sense of absence and open space, which is all that's left. But which way do you think we should go, Matt? Yeah, I think having heard, what you've just said, I think about direction. Okay. Towards the near the kind of lightning sky I love could be an. Absolutely. So we're going to go back on ourselves slightly.

Yeah. We're going to go back to the abandoned railway bridge and then we're going to turn right. So I don't know my navigation. Which way is that? Is that west. Oh sorry. Oh. so the altar of the church is in the east, so that would make this the West. Yeah. The west was. After walking through a rather mound ridden field, we come across some ruins and the old manorial house, which tells us that we must be close.

Despite its sad ending, the village of Wolfhamcote has a long and storied past. Its name is derived from Saxon words meaning you, farms, manor and records can be traced all the way back to 1086, in the Domesday Book, a testament to the strong community that once thrived here. So yeah, this is promised me. And you can see, you know, it's still quite a presence on the horizon.

The church that is the church is usually at the centre of these communities. And as we've, as we've sort of come across this church, we've been absolute. We've been surrounded by these undulating hills, by the landscape, which is very up and down, but so textured and I think that's what is the biggest clue right there. It's surrounding.

It's all around us. Yeah, yeah. It's completely it's like a sort of most of you see the fox I think that's something my eyesight didn't catch. Oh. I'm sorry. I just want to speak. Fluffy red ten. Oh, yeah. I can see him over there. There's actually two horses as well now. It is sort of staring at the horses.

It's directly in front of me and now it's just running off. Oh I see, yeah. So the head just jumping up and down. Yeah. Oh, oh he's just like running around the infield. Oh sweet. Sorry. That was very distracting. No, not at all. That's exactly the kind of thing that is worth getting distracted by.

The light is starting to dull, and we still haven't found any hard evidence of where the abandoned medieval village would have been. Although Matthew suspects the large field opposite the church. Hello there. Oh, yeah. We're just, looking for a lost village. You haven't ever come across it, have you? You're late. Come here somewhere. I think it's basically; you know, the church was in the centre of the village.

If you look at some of the. If you look in that field, you can see, for example, the undulations where they were, you know, buildings and things. And I think it probably goes on any sort of further field, but you can especially see it in that field and will be in this field. Your hunch was right. Well, yeah.

I'm so glad you said that. You proven myself right.

The reason I think this is probably the core of the village, the Lost Village, is because if you look at the undulations in the landscape, in these fields, they're like frozen waves. it's much more pronounced than I think you'll agree with any of the other fields that we've walked through. So that generally means that those structures which have like left bits of load of centuries, and it's become imprinted on it, just say, if you were just to roll across this, it would be kind of difficult.

It's not remotely flat. it's also directly to the north of the church. and that would make sense, because he wouldn't want the church too far away. because, you know, elderly people, the infirm. and when they have to bury bodies, not to make it too morbid, but they wouldn't have wanted to have to drag the bodies t far, particularly, at the time of the Black Death, we probably find a plague pit at some point.
Beneath that kind of halo of, crows that we saw earlier. So it looks a bit like a kind of Colosseum, like mini, sort of like. I mean, I'm not saying it was, but it could be that there was some kind of structure, maybe a kind of a wooden sort of mini castle in the middle bit, surrounded by water and that could have been the key of the village.

Do you want to see this from the sky? Yeah, I think well, I parked the plane just outside the church, so. But then our trusty producer finds some hard-hitting evidence. Oh, gosh. And Leigh-Anne has just found some brilliant aerial photographs and just put them in my face. These photographs can be found on Warwickshire's County Council's website, and certainly show you the site of Wolfhamcote’s medieval deserted settlement.

This is documentary evidence for its existence and abandonment by the 16th century. Aerial photographs from June 2007 suggest a moat, a Holloway, fishponds and buildings which now appear to be a cross-hatching of wobbly geometric shapes from above. Wow. So we have definitely found it. We have found it! Yay! This is confirmation because sometimes you never find them, so this is pretty good going.

A 1955 archaeological investigation of the village revealed a rich history, with traces of various occupations dating back to the Saxon period. However, it was during the 12th and 13th centuries that this once sleepy hamlet saw a surge in activity, flourishing with a population of around 100 people and even boasting its own priests as the careful hands of archaeologists unearthed artifacts from the Middle Ages, such as delicate pottery pieces, intricate spindle holes, sharp knives and ornate buttons, they were met with a puzzling sight.

The once thriving village now lay in ruins, its buildings crumbling and its streets overgrown. Through further research, it became clear that a combination of factors led to the decline of wool from coats. The worsening weather conditions made it increasingly difficult for villagers to farm the waterlogged soil, resulting in a slow decrease in population. To combat the constant rain, the villagers constructed a new layer of clay over their main street, complete with ditches on either side, but ultimately it was the actions of two individuals that sealed the fate of this village.

In 1501, John Ferrers enclosed 30 acres for his sheepfold, forcing six tenants to leave their homes. As if that wasn't enough, in 1510, Richard Cooney took on an additional 40 acres, displacing another six tenants. It was a heartbreaking realization for those who called Waltham Coats home.

Okay. Let's go. Yeah. With that, come in.

We go. Wow.

Beautifully stark this side, isn't it? Really is. It feels very spacious. It's amazingly lit. The lights from the sunset. Always feel angelic. It does? Yeah. It feels like a transcendental moment. The autumn sunlight was fading quickly, so we decided it was time to venture around Saint Peter's and enjoy its shadowy interior. To give you a good idea of what the church is like, I've invited doctoral student Shelley Williams from Oxford University to give us a summary.

Before coming to Oxford, Shelley taught history of art in the US and in 2021 moved to the UK with her husband and four children. Their favourite activity since moving here, hands down and No lies, is tramping in medieval churches. Her kids love drinking hot chocolate in their sleeping bags, spotting foxes in the graveyards and the bats in the belfry, whilst the adults enjoy the sounds of an ancient building.

Waking in the sunrise. Recently, Shelley has visited Saint Peter's. Hello, this is Shelley Williams, and my family and I are champing at Saint Peter's Church and Waltham coat. one of the first things I noticed about this church are the lines. I don't think there is a single straight line in this church from top to bottom. It's made of turning, tilting, sloping lines.

This fabulous crown post roof has these wavy struts. It seems there are many times when this church was near demolition, but preserving this roof frame alone justifies its preservation. The wavy struts are echoed below, with the twisted balusters holding up the communion rails. And it's all very elegant and the pillars of the nave have also sunken a bit, so they too are leaning, and shifting the pointed arches just a little.

The whole effect is one of organic response to the environment, to the shifting water paths and rain and animals. It's a really, really wonderful little church. So I see you're looking at the font, Matthew. Yeah, this font stands apart from everything else in this church because it's actually from Norman times. It's the doomsday book mentions a priest and wolf on coat, but only the font which we're looking at now.

It's literally in front of us, survives from that time, and it's got a beautiful simplicity. The first thing I thought is that it looks like a kind of pestle, like a pestle and mortar. You're right. It really does, doesn't it? It's got that sort of very robust shape, but it's quiet. Yeah. Inside when you peer inside, there's this great big hole in the centre.

I think it's over a thousand years old, but it looks like it's been obviously freshly could have made on, on a sort of process kiln. Absolutely. The wheel and it's very smooth. Yeah. And it's I mean I really like it. It's not remotely kind of let me see very elaborate fonts in, in many churches this has got a sort of basic simplicity to it, which is quite endearing.

but the oldest part of the church, I understand, is beneath the tower, which dates from the 13th century. So a little later than this font. And, we can see that over here. Oh, yes. Absolutely. And we can also see that heraldry as well, which in this afternoon light is. Yeah. It's beautiful. I can wear it's really visible.

And the bells are somewhere. Absolutely. So we have one remaining bell cord here which we can see. And so that ascends right up into this building. And this an amazing, inscription. I believe the Langley family, they include the great bell. And there's an inscription I wish, I guess must be up that we can't actually see it home, but in mortise and a a companhia Yohannes, which means.

And I think this is quite evocative. May John's bell for many years resound and we know it was cast in London around about 1450 by a man whose surname is unbelievable. John study that is made these sturdy bells. And, I found a man called John Death in a rental row the other day, and I thought, and he died.

And I thought that was too good to be true. But John Sturdy, with the bells quite heavy to give it a tug. But I don't know if that's if the whole thing is going to come crashing. Perhaps not.

In the afternoon light. Again, it's a wonderful simplicity. They're kind of crude and, the base austere I think probably is the right word. But they didn't that didn't just the right amount of kind of golden light and that's that little robin silhouetted against, the plumes of light, and it's flying from window to window. yeah. It doesn't feel lifeless.

It feels like it's the energy in here. Absolutely. It seems so much. Yeah.

Many people are drawn to the boathouse pub because of its idyllic Canalside location near Bronson Marina. You can watch the passing, narrow boats and enjoy wholesome homemade food. And we've made it in time for the local quiz. I know you could not win the cup, though. You did it. The perch revolution begins next year.

Which will be revisionist on the docks. They will take the north version of tomatoes and. Very contented with our jovial and delicious evening, we put on our coat and switch on our torches for the 15-minute walk back to Saint Peter's in moonlight.

So we walk home now.

I love how I said that. We're walking home to the church. Home to the church, the abandoned church.

Can you hear the echo? I hope we can so hit the owl. I mean, it's very eerie, isn't it?

How do you go walking to the graveyard at 10 p.m. at night? Strangely, it's calm and it's not. It's not harrowing. it's, It's amazing. I mean, just look at the silhouette of that as we walk back. Shrouded in darkness, we discuss how wolf and coat association with dereliction, with abandonment and a vanished community does automatically give this church a Gothic, spooky feel.

The white light feels closer here, as if nature is taking over, and it is rather easy to lean into this feeling of unease. I think, you know, an element of it is we don't have stained glass windows. Yeah, and I think it's that boarded up. Maybe that's it provides the sort of derelict feel. Yeah. It's got that slight not, not like a prison but, but yeah I think you're totally right.

There's no glass. No. It's like this kind of brooding. Like I look up the battlements, there is a sort of like, almost like a walk. But of course, many enjoy feeling the sensation of being scared, feeling the rush of adrenaline when they even trespass into forgotten places that appear unloved and neglected by society. I pose this question to Matthew just as we pass by one of the ruins next to the church.

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What do you think it is about exploring these abandoned and decaying structures? Matty? Why do you think it's popular. Well, I mean, just look at this. It's that there's a certain so beauty to that, that kind of decayed grandeur. and there's a sense, I think, of kind of man and nature working together so you can see this sort of brick-built structure, and, you know, other abandoned buildings and churches, but there's, there's like a trace of growing in it, almost growing through it.

And it's being kind of reappropriated by nature. And it's what brings into focus the almost the hubris of thinking you can build a single structure and left alone, a whole city when you've got nature kind of broiling beneath, biding its time and ready to reclaim it. So that's one reason, I think also, it's philosophically that quite profound because that's of emblems of transience and mortality.

Not to get too sort of bleak about it, but it like people find it quite cathartic to ruminate upon the ruins, as the Romantics put it, because it's bringing bring sewer and the sort of sort of mortality it brings into focus in a way that's cathartic rather than just. You very rarely find people that visit ruins like this, and they're just really depressed afterwards.

That's that. They're actually quite uplifted. And it's come in a sense of calming environment. I'm not quite sure what it is, but the French have a term called the nostalgia tillable nostalgic Gelatt view is a 19th century term that means, quite literally, nostalgia for the mud. It encapsulates a desire for degradation and depravity, and essentially points to how beauty can be found in destruction.

I feel really privileged and grateful that we are able to experience sleeping in such a special building overnight and safely, and it is all thanks to the church's conservation trust. Anyone can be an urban explorer, but of the Indiana Jones variety opposed to the Tasmanian devil. But that isn't to say that Saint Peter's hasn't seen vandalism. It hasn't seen this difficult negative side.

In 2020, vandals broken and damaged a 700-year-old pew, and indeed, it is a church that has refused to die. And just to add to this resilient image, I am treated to a private poetry reading with none other than our guest, Matthew Green himself, that encapsulates this durable theme. Okay, so I just want to read a poem about, a ruined Roman city, which I think is quite interesting because it was written in the eighth century, and the manuscripts in which it's written is itself a ruin because half of it was burned.

So we've had to extrapolate quite a lot of this, but it describes a fallen city and it says, this masonry is wondrous fate. Sprockets. Quarter of pavements were smashed; the work of giants are decaying roofs of fallen ruinous towers. The frosty gates with frost on cement is ravaged. Chipped wreaths of fallen, fallen, undermined by old age. The cold shoulder of the earth possesses.

The mighty builders perished and fallen the cold gasp of the earth. 100 generations of people have departed, often this wall, lich and grey and stained with red blood, like the church, experience one rain after another. It's like the church still remained standing under storms. The high, wide gate has collapsed, much turned away. Spirit puts together keen council to quick to design and rings bright with a castle buildings.

Many of the bathing halls hide the abundance of gables great the noise of the multitude. Many a meat hall full of festivity. Until fates change. That foreign wife, the slain perished. Days of pestilence came. Death took all the brave men away. Their places of war became deserted. Places the city decayed. The rebuild has perished. Armies to the earth.

And so these buildings grew desolate. And this red curved roof parts from its tiles of the ceiling vault. The ruin has fallen to the ground, broken into mountains, where at one time many a warrior, joyous and ornamented with gold, bright splendour, proud and flushed with wine and steam, shone in war trappings. Looked at treasure, at silver, at precious stones, at wealth, at prosperity, at jewellery, at this bright castle of a broad kingdom.

Finally the stone building stood a stream. Through up heat and wide surge, the wall enclosed all in its bright bosom, where the baths were hot in the heart that was convenient and now they rode. So a bit more. But perhaps. But this is bath. This is the ruins of Roman baths. And in the eighth century, when it was just kind of decaying in the landscape, people thought it was a right.

Often that was a bit like how Anglo-Saxons would have seen Londinium. But then it goes to show you that what seems to be a lost cause often isn't in the long run, because bath is still there today. That's the slide London still imagines by the future people in civilized nations. That is so it is. It's so beautiful. But also, Rosslyn sitting here in the church in a you no pyjamas.

Yeah. Ready for bed. I mean, there are so many correlations with the church with, you know, about the like an outside and visitors sort of read here that you have on the inside. We're looking around and actually feels like an Anglo-Saxon Hall, and it feels a lot. I can imagine you have the Anglo-Saxons with their mead and because it's beautifully lit with candles and everything around here, and because, as we say before, it's quite austere in here, isn't it?

But I mean, it's quite minimalistic. It's quite just it's just whitewashed walls. Yeah. You have the stone, but that's it. You don't have any. you didn't have any pomp. Portugal. No, no, not at all. No ornamentation. It's just very plain. Thank you for that. Thank you. I'll be going to sleep. Thinking of Anglo-Saxons. Yeah, yeah, it's kind of quite nice the contrast in that, isn't it, between the, you know, what's left, which is almost nothing.

And then they're in their heyday and they've won a battle and they're like drinking the mead and having their steam bath. And then it all, like sinks into the earth until it's rebuilt. Actually, and here we are enjoying this beautiful church like centuries later, indeed, Champing and jumping in it. Something. Absolutely. Thank you for that. Well thank you with that in mind.

Yeah. Good night. Good night.

As I enjoy an early morning walk, I am captivated by the desolate landscape surrounding the Church of Saint Peter at Wolfhamcote, which stands here defiantly against the tide of time. This ancient structure has withstood centuries of abandonment and neglect, its buttresses an iron clad reminder of a past that refuses to be forgotten, its rugged windows, weathered by the wind and rain, glare out onto this barren land like eyes in the skull.

And upon this rather macabre note, I wake myself up with an early morning quest. Apparently, the porch has a stone slab, which is possibly part of a child's coffin set into its western wall outside. So, I'm just this morning trying to find it. First thing is, I've got up. Let's have a look. I mean, there's lots of graffiti, 1936.

I've just found one. As I'm walking round on one of these arches. Oh, there it is. Oh, yes, I felt it.

Good morning. Good morning. How did you sleep? Really? Well, actually, which I wasn't sure was going to happen, but it's, very quiet and the ads very clear, and it was almost pitch black, although we did have some glitzy lights on and candles, we did, which made it a bit more atmospheric. Yeah. That's it, that's fine. Yeah, yeah, I went out in the middle of the night.
That was quite terrifying. Did. Yeah. Yeah. It was quite hot. Shall we get the door open. And I felt like a kind of someone seeking sanctuary in the Middle Ages internally flee without priests noticing me being the priest. Exactly. Yeah. I noticed you fumbling around in the dark. I didn't hear you. So you didn't wake the priest. Be reassured.

Well, I must have done if you heard me. No, I didn't, I. Oh, you didn't really awake, right? Completely asleep. Right. I didn't hear you at all. But it's funny. We went to sleep, like thinking about Anglo-Saxon festivities, and I sort of had, I think I had a dream that I was back in the Anglo-Saxon period, you know, with a glass, with a kind of meat, tankard of meat.

Yeah. I think that kind of, filtered into my dream as well as somehow some kind of bacchanalian feast that was going on all night. was being forced to drink like something like that early in the morning. So, and, I mean, we've woken up and it's absolutely beautiful, isn't it? It's really bright. It's almost like a completely different interior.

I mean, we have these gorgeous wooden beams. it is quite austere, so. But you have this warmth, this glow from the sun. Yeah. And it sort of matches the pale gold or even sandy hue of these arches. The arches are amazing. This one opposite us, which is kind of pointed arch like, very like Norman style. And then just the kind of a window encased within it.

I think it's very picturesque is that. It is it's a challenge. My expectations of like an abandoned church because most of the ones I've been to, like the that were in the appropriated military zones and things like that, we're just like riddled with bullet holes. And they were like half falling down and the wind would howl through them.

But this is very sort of contains and as you say, it's the austerity that, kind of indicates that it's kind of like fallen status.

If you would like to make some memories, why not give champing a try? For everything you need to know about champing, you can visit: https://champing.co.uk 

The champing season happens in those warmer months between March and October, so make sure you get your place and book now. Thank you so much for joining us on this journey. It has been an absolute pleasure.

Nights in the Nave has been a podcast written and produced by me, Victoria Jenner. My guest has been today, Dr Matthew Green. And special thanks go to Fiona Silk, who runs champing and champing at this since Dr Alex Langlands, doctoral student Shelley Williams and Lewis Cooper, thank you to you all for being part of today's episode. Sound recording was managed by Leigh-Anne Beattie, editing by Jamie Reed Sounds, music by Nick Varey and design by George Allen.

Come to a sleepover at our place. This is a Churches Conservation Trust podcast.

Follow the host on instagram @victoriajenner_history