This week I’d like to tell you about the Darnley Mausoleum, a place I pass often when running, usually without giving it a second glance.

Built in the 1780s for the Darnley family as a final resting place, it was designed by James Wyatt and completed under George Dance the Younger (what a name). One time I ran past and saw three people with candles, crosses and a Ouija board, trying to summon ghosts. The twist is that nobody was ever buried there. It’s said there was a falling out with the Bishop of Rochester, so it was never consecrated. They should have done their research...

The family instead was laid to rest a 30 minute walk away in the grounds of Cobham Church. Empty, it stood as an architectural statement rather than a tomb, perched on the estate’s highest point and often surrounded by Highland cows and, occasionally, deer.

During the 20th century it gradually declined, suffering vandalism and then a major fire in 1980 and left hollow in what became a woodland playground for mischief. When I was a kid, the area felt like a British Mad Max, motorbikes tearing about, the mausoleum a backdrop to chaos. Even now, if you look closely in the surrounding woods, you can spot the rusting shells of old cars and bikes that nature has reclaimed.

In the early 2000s, a coalition of local and national bodies pulled it back from the brink. Gravesham Council, the National Trust, English Heritage and others secured funding via grants and environmental remediation linked to rail works, restoring it with craftsmen-level care.

Today it’s Grade I listed, owned by the National Trust, and open to the public on select spring and summer days, though I tend not to advertise that as I like to keep my happy space quiet.

#SilentSunday #History #KentHistory

I’m back again with another local history episode. Today’s about Dode Church and the Lost Village of Dode, tucked away in a valley near Luddesdown (fun fact: William the Conqueror’s brother owned a house there - one of Britain’s oldest continuously lived-in houses, currently renting for £5k+ per month). But back to Dode - it’s one of the most peaceful places I’ve come across. The church stands completely alone, the only thing left of an entire medieval village.

The story's tragic. Built around 1087-1100, this little Norman church served a thriving community until 1349 when the Black Death swept through and killed everyone. The whole village just... gone.

There's a legend about the last survivor - a seven-year-old girl they called the Dodechild. Story goes she hid in the church after watching everyone else die, but the plague got her too. People reckon she still haunts the place, appearing every seven years - if you believe in that sort of thing... I don't.

The church sat empty and ruined for over 600 years until someone bought it in 1990. Could've turned it into a house but chose to restore it instead. When I was a kid people used to say this was a Satanist church and that there were all sorts of sacrifices and stuff going on there. The reality is much, much worse. It's a wedding venue, which we actually looked at for our wedding and we would have gone for it but it didn't have the capacity we needed.

The site's been important for centuries - there's evidence of Roman occupation, and inside you can still sit on the original 12th-century stone benches that the medieval villagers used.

It's these hidden Kent stories that fascinate me. Drive past on the A2 and you'd never know this place exists, but it's got more history than most cities.

#SilentSunday #History #KentHistory #Medieval