I've already posted two of my experiences on this thread somewhere but here's another.
I have a great interest in archaeology and ancient history and as a result of this I like to visit ruins and ancient churches. I’ve been perfectly happy wandering alone around secluded country churches and I particularly like to visit Saxon and Norman churches. Over the years I have visited a great many, sometimes I’ve found the atmosphere extremely friendly and pleasant but usually I just regard the church in question as a building of great historical interest, representing an incredible continuity through a thousand years of use. I had never had any unpleasant experiences, nor been nervous about visiting these places on my own. Last Saturday (18 October 2003) I travelled by public transport out to the tiny hamlet of Warnford, on the Meon river in Hampshire.
Warnford church stands on a secluded private estate just off the A32 Portsmouth to Alton road. Warnford itself is a tiny rural hamlet. To get to the church I had to pass through a wrought iron gate onto the estate itself (Warnford Park), then follow the driveway which zig-zagged through the grounds and crossed a bridge over the Meon river. The church itself stands in its rather overgrown graveyard, dominated by the squat, powerful Norman tower. Behind the church are the picturesque ruins of St John’s House, the remains of a Norman manor.
Entering the church the bell tower is to the left and is not accessible to the public, the font is close to the entrance, an original Norman font (dating to around 1130) with lead coating. The nave runs off to the right towards the altar, with the chancel separated by a wooden screen with access to the other side, there are two highly ornate tombs to either side of the altar (William Neale on the left, died in 1601, and the more ornate tomb of his son, Sir Thomas Neale, and wives, on the right). I began by buying the church guide leaflet and looking at the particular details as set out inside. I worked my way from the west (tower) end down to the east (altar) end and everything was normal, just a pleasant country church. However, when I passed the wooden screen and entered the chancel to look at the two tombs the air became very cold and the atmosphere was suddenly filled with an unseen, hostile presence. I felt a little nervous but looked at the tombs and took some photos. The atmosphere seemed to get more and more hostile, but I carried on looking around. My film ran out so I went back to my pack (left near the entrance) to get a new film, and was immediately struck by the change in atmosphere as soon as I left the chancel, I no longer felt the overpowering hostility nor the coldness of the air. I got a new film and returned to the chancel where the bad atmosphere was overpowering. I looked around nervously, there was a definite sense of expectancy in the air. Then I heard three loud, hollow knocks. I searched for their origin but found nothing, and tried to convince myself that it was just due to pigeons in the roof.
After seeing everything I wanted to I left, grabbed my pack and headed out to look around the cemetery and the ruins, I sat down and had some lunch then, overcome by a morbid curiosity, I re-entered the church. Everything seemed fine, I walked up the aisle with almost a feeling of dread and walked up to the altar area, once again walking into an area of cold hostility, and the definite feeling of a malign presence. The feeling was very powerful, and after taking a last look at the ornamented tombs I headed back to the exit. I was at the point of leaving when my mobile rang…it was a friend whom I hadn’t heard from in two years or so, her address book had fallen off the table and opened to my name and she decided it was a sign that she should call me…right when I was feeling particularly freaked out. As I chatted I heard a deep, gruff man’s voice shout something unintelligible from the area of the tomb of Sir Thomas Neale by the altar which startled me somewhat. When the call ended, I headed back to the area where I heard the shout, even more nervous than before and muttering to myself about my duty as a Fortean, but not really expecting to find anything. I crossed into the chancel and…nothing. No coldness, no feeling of hostility. The presence had completely vanished and I found myself in a normal country church. The change in atmosphere was striking. I headed once again for the exit, but stopped to admire the lead-covered font. Without thinking I rapped it with my knuckles…and almost needed a change of underwear when I heard the same distinctive knocking sound as earlier…I rapidly headed for the exit, deciding that my Fortean duty had been fulfilled and it was time to beat a hasty retreat.
Nothing particularly dramatic perhaps, but enough to scare me sh**less and the only time I’ve ever been spooked whilst visiting a church. I even had nightmares about it the following night, a thoroughly unpleasant experience. My brother and my mother want me to go back and take them there but it would be like going back to a place where I was mugged or something and I really have no desire to ever see the place again.