Both were levelled in 1959, erased in a single act of agricultural clearance, yet both had been mapped as far back as 1839 on the first Ordnance Survey six-inch edition, and again on the 1900 revision. What makes this site quietly puzzling is not just its destruction but the question it leaves open: were these two monuments part of the same complex, or simply neighbours that accumulated proximity without ever sharing a purpose?

The larger of the two was a circular enclosure, roughly 60 metres across internally and about 80 metres overall, defined by a fosse, which is a defensive ditch, and an outer bank. A stretch of that outer bank along the southern edge appears to have been absorbed into a field boundary running east to west, which is one of the reasons it survived in outline long enough to be mapped twice. The second monument, trapezoidal in shape, sits to the north-east. T. B. Barry, writing in 1977, classified it as a moated site, a type of enclosure associated with medieval Anglo-Norman settlement, typically a rectangular island platform surrounded by a water-filled ditch. But the pairing of the two monuments raises another possibility: that the trapezoidal enclosure served as a bailey, an outer defended courtyard, to the circular one, which would make the whole complex a ringwork and bailey rather than two unrelated features. Satellite imagery examined in 2020 adds a further complication, suggesting the circular enclosure may have had an additional outer bank and fosse of its own, one that physically abuts the trapezoidal enclosure and implies a more deliberate spatial relationship between them.

Nothing above ground survives the 1959 levelling, but the cropmark traces visible on aerial and satellite imagery reward a careful look. The two monuments sit close enough together that their outlines, faint as they are, still suggest the ghost of something that was once more than the sum of its parts.