Many years ago, a very wealthy woman lived all alone in a cottage in Braishfield on the Isle Of Wight. She was so attached to her money that she didn't want to spend any of it or give any of it away. Rather than the charity, freedom, and experiences money can enable, ownership of the potential was reward enough for her. Because she lived alone, she decided to bury her treasures on the cottage grounds where no one would be able to steal it. Unfortunately for her, soon after she buried her treasure she was taken ill and died in hospital. She never told of her secret hiding place and the riches remain there until this day. The cottage in question is used to ghostly visitations. According to legend, the ghost of the wealthy woman often raps on the door and snoops around the outside of the building. Perhaps still attached to her treasure, she cannot pass over to the other side. The treasure has become so alluring that even in death, she doesn't want to let it go.
On the Isle Of Wight, just off the south coast of England, there is a popular amusement park called Blackgang Chine. It was not always such a populous place, with dark soils and barren ground, it was a desolate and empty place. Many years ago, however, it was lush and full of trees and flowers. At this time, there lived a terrible giant. He would eat people for every meal after roasting them alive on his open fire. It was such a fearsome giant that for many years no one would dare try to stop him. One day, a holy man was in the area. He heard of the giant and decided to go and pay him a visit. As he approached the giant, in his lair seated on a pile of skulls and bones, he made the sign of a cross with his fingers and cursed the giant and the ground he lived on. With a prayer, he commanded the ground to no longer bear life. Soon after this, all the plants and trees withered away and the ground became as barren as it is today. The ground became so bad and the tastes so bitter that the giant had no choice but to leave the area for good.
In The Forest Of Dean, several ancient landmarks can be found. Around the area of Staunton, there are several standing stones and megaliths. These ancient landmarks have stood in-situ for thousands of years and it's unclear as to what their original purpose was. Be it grave sites, commemoration symbols, some kind of religious structure, or simply a human endeavour into landscaping, the sites are long-lived strongholds of local culture and lore. One such stone that had laid near Staunton for longer than anyone could recall was the rocking stone. It was huge and yet could easily be tipped one way or another thanks to its unique shape and position. People would rock the stone and enjoy the feeling of moving something much heavier than themselves. One day, a group of actors were enjoying the sites at Staunton and decided to visit the stone. One thing led to another and they decided to roll the stone down a slope at which it smashed at the end. A disaster, no doubt the actors were reprimanded for their actions. The villagers did their best to recreate the stone by carrying the pieces back up and chaining them together. Despite their efforts, the stone would no longer tip when pushed and the local landmark was completely ruined.
Once a grand castle house and a cherished Gloucester landmark, Prestbury House stood proud during the English Civil War. The town was a Royalist stronghold and yet was occupied by Roundheads who took refuge in the mansion. They knew that word would be sent to the King to send reinforcements so the soldiers tied a rope to each side of the Burgage, a well-used highway in and out of the area. As the king's rider galloped away, the rope caught him and dragged him from the horse. The soldiers set upon him and killed him before any word could get out. Ever since this horrible night, the barely visible phantom of the horseman has been spotted on its fateful ride. Perhaps the desire to warn the king was so strong that even in death, the spirit of the intention cannot be laid to rest. In more recent times, during repairs of some old roadside buildings in 1901, a skeleton with an arrow in its ribs was discovered hidden. It's believed this unburied dead person also is the cause of hauntings. Many more ghosts have been spotted in the hotel itself, with 18th Century rowdy crowds manifesting at unusual times. Visitors to the local church might come across the visible apparition of the "Black Abbot". There are so many various ghost stories associated with Prestbury that some claim it to be the most haunted area in Gloucestershire.
Yew trees are often planted in churchyards. Their red fruits can be symbolic of blood and their evergreen leaves remind us of perpetual life. A slow-growing plant, they last for many generations and become long-lasting members of the local community. Planted in 1792, a small copse of yews were planted in the graveyard in Painswick. It's said that no one is able to count the number of trees, and anyone who tries arrives at different numbers each time. A legend states that there are in fact ninety-nine and that the devil will kill any hundredth yew. Stories tell of several attempts to plant another one and it wilting within a few days. One local story tells of a chemist who would sneak out at night and pour poison on the new tree as a joke. According to collected lore, the area of Painswick has dozens of verified ghost stories. There have been many local legends about Painswick, maybe because of its name, including a children's tale about the people of Painswick eating puppy-dog pie.
In the village of Elton, Gloucestershire, there was once a beautiful daughter. She was so attractive that men would come from far and wide to try and get her attention and her favour. Wary of bad-hearted men, her father decided to build a fence around their home and would refuse anyone permission to talk to her. One Sunday, a young man was on his way to church at Flaxley. As he passed by, the father watched him with a suspicious eye. Not long after this, a hare appeared at the gate. It deftly jumped into the garden and began nibbling the grass while watching the house. The father, who had heard that witches can turn into hares, took a shot at the animal with his musket. He hit it in the leg and, in startled fright, the hare hopped clumsily away. Soon after, the church bell began to ring out from Flaxley and the young man returned from service. As he walked by the house, the father noticed he too had a limp.
The local parish church in Deerhurst contains several Anglo-Saxon carvings from the time of the Vikings. A now demolished monastery once stood nearby and it's believed these items originally came from there. Among the stone treasures can be found the head of a dragon. It is unclear when the story originated however the local people know what it signifies. A long time ago, a dragon was roaming the land, eating livestock, and poisoning the people. No one knew what to do so the King decided to offer a plot of land to whoever slayed the beast. A commoner called John Smith took it upon himself to do the deed and upon finding the serpent bathing in the sun, he chopped off its head. When he had done this, the King kept his promise and gave John Smith the land. Apparently, even to this day, there is a Smith in Deerhurst who owns some land with a hill named Dragon's Tump. Maybe a man with a name like Smith needed a legend behind him to be accepted as a rightful landowner at the time?
A strange story made it into the published press during 1685 when a local broadsheet printed the tale. A group of workmen were excavating a patch of Colton's Field around two miles from Cirencester. Described as a "Strange And Wonderful Discovery", two of the workmen stumbled upon a hidden cave. Among the loose gravel at the foot of the hill by the field, they uncovered a hidden cave entrance. When they entered, lanterns in hand, they came across a series of carved out corridors and rooms. Adorned with furnishings, when the air was disturbed in the room, they crumbled into dust before their eyes. Also in the room were several urns containing ashes and golden coins. Latin could be seen written on some of the urns, bringing the history to the Roman period. The coins had Roman inscriptions on also with various Emperors depicted on one side. Suddenly, as they explored, a full-sized man with a baton appeared in front of them. Striking out at one of the men, they fled the cave and did not return until the next day. Upon their return they brought a gentlemen of known reputation with them to confirm their find. The figure, which is described as an automaton, reappeared and once again attempted to strike out. They grabbed as much gold as they could, not before noticing two severed heads with long beards peering out at them. At this point they heard a loud and anguished groan so once again the three men fled the scene, carrying a few of the treasures with them. It is believed that the hill in question is now known as Torbarrow Hill in which two prehistoric tombs were excavated with nothing found in either. Roman automata are not unheard of, it is rumoured that Emperor Octavian had a group of them guarding his treasure chamber. Perhaps one of these rare and strange devices was indeed found and has since been secreted away.
One foggy and dreary Sunday afternoon, the congregation of an unnamed village near Bristol was leaving church. The service ended around noon and the outside weather was dark and gloomy. As the worshipers walked through the churchyard on their way home, one of them noticed a ships anchor clinging on to a gravestone. A rope stretched up into the clouds as if attached to a ship in the sky. The rope began to jerk and quiver, as if being pulled from above the clouds. Then a figure descended into the fog from above and followed the path of the rope. Looking as if starved of air, the person was forced to return to the ship. The rope was then cut and it fell, loose and heavy, from the sky. A piece of the anchor was fastened to the church door as a reminder of the event. No one knows what kind of beings were in the sky ship, with normal Earth air being impossible for them to breathe. A similar tale may help explain what happened, as one day a fisherman was out at sea and dropped his knife overboard by mistake. At the exact same time, his wife was in the kitchen chopping vegetables. A knife fell through an open skylight and landed at the table in front of her. Perhaps it was the same knife?
The fourth-born son of a King of England, Edward II inherited the throne when Alfonso, his only surviving elder brother, died before his father. Otherwise known as Edward of Caernarfon, he married Isabella of France, daughter to King Philip IV. Despite this, he much preferred the company of his friend, Piers Gaveston. It is unclear as to how close they were although many believe they were both in a homosexual relationship. Jealous of his influence in the Royal duties, King Edward's council forced him to exile Gaveston. This ultimately brewed more trouble as Gaveston returned with more power and forced a change in the law giving Barons more power. The consequent power struggle led to Isabella leaving for France on the premise of brokering peace with the long warring French, however she switched sides and allied with them instead. On her return, Edward could not maintain his grip on power with barons against him and the invading army approaching. Edward saw no choice other than to abdicate upon which he was sent to rot in gaol at Berkeley Castle. Imprisoned in a room that had an open sewage pit in its only well, the King was intended to die from the fumes. When this did not happen, he was imprisoned between two mattresses then impaled with a red-hot iron poker. His screams could be heard around the entire countryside which on some nights can still be heard echoing from the distant hills.
At the time of the nineteenth century, Benhall wood was a dark and mysterious place. Much larger than it is today, the trees covered vast amounts of English countryside. The source of much employment, the trees benefitted many in the community. One such person, a carter living near his place of work, woke from a vivid dream. He remembered it clearly, especially when a woman begged him to save her from Benhall's dreary wood. As he went about work that day, collecting things to cart through the woods and into the village, he noticed a pregnant lady standing by an old tree. It was late by this time and the woman looked concerned. The carter asked if he could help, and she said she'd been instructed by her lover to meet him in the wood but she was afraid to go in. Being a gentleman, and remembering his dream, the carter offered to accompany her to the meeting place. As they rode up to the dark and secluded spot, they saw her lover digging a large pit. When he saw his companion approaching with the carter, he dropped his shovel and ran away into the darkness. The pregnant woman was shocked to realise her lover had been digging her grave as he clearly did not want to be a father. If she had been alone, the pit was surely meant for her. The carter took the woman home and cared for her, and it was not soon later that she gave birth to a healthy baby.
Born a Princess, Osyth was part of the Hwicce people who lived in Mercia. Betrothed to Sigehere the King of the East Saxons, in a political marriage arranged by the powerful King of Mercia. The couple shared a faith in Christianity which no doubt helped bring them together. Wuflhere, the King of Mercia, wanted to establish the faith across the land. However, before their marital breakfast, the King decided to go hunting for a stag seen the night before. Upon his return, triumphant in his kill, Sigehere found that Osyth was gone. Confused and upset, Sigehere, King of the East Saxons went out looking for his new bride. When he found her, she had taken refuge with two local bishops. Seeing that she was not happy in the marriage, Sigehere gave Osyth some land and permission to start a nunnery. The location, however, was very exposed and indefensible. It was not long until Danish raiders arrived and ransacked the buildings in 653. When they tried to take Osyth away for their sinister purposes, she refused to move. It was then that she was beheaded on the field. It is said a natural spring began to flow at the exact spot her head touched the ground. Even though this miracle occurred, Sigehere renounced his Christianity during the pestilence of 665. It is said the the ghost of St. Osyth can sometimes be seen, bearing her own head.
During the reign of Queen Mary Tudor, 1553-1558, the Protestant faith was illegal. Anyone who practiced it or who was identified as belonging to a Protestant group was burned alive for heresy. Edmund Tyrell played a vital role in this procedure and gained the nickname The Informer. Living in Rawreth, Essex, he occupied a large manor house at Beeches Farm. Present at several burnings, Edmund Tyrell has been mentioned in Foxe's Book of Martyrs. A story tells of the time when he passed by two strangers on his way home. Through cunning, he was able to determine that they were Protestants and promptly reported them as such. Of course, they were burned. A woodcut of the day depicts Edmund Tyrell holding a candle beneath the hand of Rose Allen of the Munt family. As the sinews cracked, she did not cry and she is said to have praised the devil for putting his plan to work. On Tyrells own gravestone, the inscription reads "God grant him a blessed resurrection", a wish which almost none of the locals shared. His legacy lived on with the rumour that a barren patch of field where nothing ever grew was where he had a local woman burned.
In the Essex town of Loughton, the ghost of famed highwayman Dick Turpin is rumoured to ride through the streets three times per year. On each occasion, the ghostly horseman passes by the house of an old widow who lived in his day. Once, upon hearing of her fortune, he held her face over a fire in order to make her tell where her treasures were hidden. In what has been called the only written example of one ghost tormenting another, when ever the phantom of Dick Turpin passes by her house, he slows down. Then, at some point in the area, the old woman jumps out from hiding and mounts his horse behind him. The pair then gallop off and cause chaos in the town until they both disappear. Perhaps even today you might see the famous rider and one of his tormentors acting out this immortal foray.
Once, many generations ago, there was a double oak in the woodland near Hockley. The tree had grown into two independent trunks that sprouted from the same base. Unusual for oaks, the tree was cloaked in superstition. It was a common children's game to pass between the two trunks as the gap was just wide enough for a small child. It was common practice to purposefully split ash trees then bind them together again, allowing children to pass through this gap was a folk cure for rickets. The oak had completely different connotations, however. Soon the tree was considered haunted or as a gateway, and evidence to this was given in the sound of a shrieking boy that seemed to disappear when followed. The phenomenon became so widely known that visitors would come and listen, and at this time ventriloquists and entertainers were paid to give them what they came for. This didn't stop the hauntings, however, and locals still claimed to be tormented by the terrible sound. Eventually they discovered the sound was coming from an owl, which they then shot. But owls were plentiful in those days and it wasn't long before the shrieking boy returned another night.
During the reign of King Edward the Confessor between 1042 and 1066, it became widely known that the king would not refuse a person who asked in the name of St. John the Evangelist. This was his chosen Patron Saint who he regularly prayed to for guidance and protection. One day, a pilgrim was granted an audience with the king and he asked for alms in the name of the Saint. The King was unable to find coins on his person and his treasury was far away. At this, the King removed a golden ring from his finger and handed it over. A while later, an English soldier was fighting in the Holy Land. Getting lost and separated from his companions, it was then that a white-haired old man approached. Guiding the soldier back to his camp, he passed him the golden ring. At this he said "Give this ring to King Edward, for the one he loves is returning this to him". When the ring was returned, King Edward was certain the pilgrim was a manifestation of his Patron Saint, St. John the Evangelist. To this day the ring is kept at Westminster Abbey in a shrine to the late King of England.
A tall and plain-looking oak door with a metal frame has been dated back to the days of Danes and Anglo-Saxons. Both newcomers to the British Isles, the two groups fought for the right to govern the farms and villages that had sprung up since the end of the Roman occupation. In fact the visible ruins of Roman architecture were then believed to be the result of churches damned to Hell for the misdeeds of their congregation. The religious conviction of the locals at the time was so strong that people could be killed for thinking different thoughts. Known as heresy and sacrilege, these totalitarian crimes saw many meet their end because they would rather speak their hearts than pretend to agree.
The door has been repaired many times as it has been in continual use for a thousand years however it was tested for authenticity in the 1970s. The true originality of the oak panelling was confirmed and so was a legend that has endured as long as the door itself. Once, when it was a new door, a Dane was condemned to be flayed to death because of his beliefs. A possibility much more certain now that a fair skinned individual has has skin fragments identified in the grain. Flaying sinners against church doors has been a common punishment in the past. In that often the judge and jury were made of a parish council, the churches buildings must have been central to village justice. In Anglo-Saxon times there was little central authority to govern the national legal system and so it was often left completely in the hands of the victims and their companions. The first time that flaying was mentioned in a national document was not until Henry I in 1100 AD and this then was intended as the punishment for slaying one's lord. This being a much higher crime than sacrilege, the practice of flaying people against church doors seems to have stopped shortly after the end of the Viking period. The door has been removed in recent years however the pieces of skin are kept by the Saffron Walden Museum.
A Rochford man, James Murrell was a London chemist's assistant in the early nineteenth century. Wanting to further his career, he also began working as a shoemaker in Hadleigh. It was here that his fortunes began to change. As local people chatted to him while he mended their shoes, they realised that James was incredibly intelligent and carried great insights into people's lives. Soon, townspeople began to visit James for his advice and help. He charged a penny each for his various potions and tinctures, that were mostly made from herbs. Soon, his reputation grew far beyond the reach of Hadleigh and Cunning Murrell (for that is what he became known by) soon received sacks of letters from all over the land. People would ask him for advice on a large number of things from medical questions to spiritual emergencies. Cunning Murrell seemed to always know the right thing to say or do which helped everyone feel better. Perhaps his most famous attribute is that people would come to him to help recover lost items. Cunning Murrell often located lost belongings, including money, simply by talking to their rightful owner. Some people accused him of devilry and witchcraft, as Cunning Murrell always seemed to be able to resolve problems of this nature. He is reported to have replied with "I am the Devil's master" when ever accused of working for him.
Long ago, in the village of Canewdon, there once lived a giant. Having decided to be Christian, the giant decided to live a life of charity. He moved to live near a large river where he would carry people across on his back. When ever anyone wanted to cross the river, they just asked the giant to carry them over. After doing his work for many years, one night a small child asked for passage. As the giant made his way through the waters, wading through the rushing currents with the child on his back, he was tired and bowed his head. The child then said, "you have carried the weight of the world and of Him who made the world." Ever since this night, it became known that the giant's name was Christopher which means Christ bearer.
Visitors to St Nicholas Canewdon church will find a painting on the wall that depicts a giant man. On his shoulder is the image of the small child, which if you look closely is actually the Christ child. Remembered for all time, this gentle giant remains a fond memory for those who know his tale. Mostly now lost to time, Ambresbury Banks were a significant hill-fort in what was once a huge forest, now called Epping Forest. The trees used to go on for miles in all directions, right up to the Essex coast from the River Thames. Created around 300 BC, the hill-fort at Ambresbury Banks was a plateaux defended by seven foot high walls with a ten foot deep ditch that was twenty feet wide. Some of these embankments can still be seen. It is widely believed that the last battle between the invading Romans and Iceni Queen Boudica took place here. After Boudica had sacked Colchester, a Roman centre of power, she headed to London. Although not the capital during this time, London was a vital port from the continent. The city-town had become a vibrant community based on this trade. As the Britons attacked London, the Roman governor was forced to return from campaigning in Wales without a victory. It was then that the main Roman force met with the Britons as they moved North. The Romans waited for the Tribes to move forward, which they did in disarray. Using cavalry, they forced them into the defended ground. Wedging Boudica's army between the fort and a chain of ox-drawn waggons, with the high banks to each side, the Roman soldiers used their legionary tactics to overcome the scattered and disordered tribes-people. Once the army had been pinned up against the waggons, the legionaries slaughtered the oxen which meant the blockade would not move. At this point, the soldiers moved in and killed the entire Iceni force. Official statistics point to 80,000 Britons killed to 400 Romans. Boudica decided to take poison in order to escape the brutal punishment and execution she faced for standing up to the stronger force.
Near the South of County Durham is an inn called the Old Spital Inn. A word derived from Hospital, a tradition of helping the unfortunate proceeded the building. One night, a crafty beggar asked for a bed. Being good people with honourable hearts, the inn keepers agreed and provided a room for the dishevelled man. It was only when the residents had gone to sleep did the beggar reveal his true intentions. He was in fact, a burglar and he had a magic device named a Hand Of Glory. One such hand is kept by the Whitby Museum.
Described in magic spells, a hand must be taken at night from a freshly hanged man then soaked in salt pickle mixed with urine of man, woman, dog, stallion, and mare. It must be turned over each night for thirteen days. After this, the hand must be left in the sun for three days and then have the fingers bent around a stick so that they point in the same direction and can hold a candle. Then, the hand must be placed half-way up a working chimney for a month. Only wood and herbs may be burned during this time, no coal. Once this has taken place, the hand is able to be claimed by the practitioner. The hand must be hung on an ancient oak for three nights then left by a crossroad for an hour a night for three more. If the hand has not been removed by animal or person by this time, it must be then hung on the keyhole of a church door over night with the claimant keeping watch. The beggar turned burglar who was offered a bed for the night had one such hand of glory. He used it by setting it on the kitchen table when he knew everyone was asleep. Setting light to the candle between the fingers, the spell ensured the other residents would not wake. As he went about taking silver, food, and other expensive belongings, he did not realise that the cook was only dosing. He heard the noise and went to find out what was happening. Finding the burglar and seeing the hand of glory, the cook blew out the candle and woke the rest of the inn. Catching the burglar and returning the belongings to their rightful place, they waited until morning when the authorities could take the man away.
The name Glassensikes refers to “certain closes” which are several tributary streams reaching the river Skerne. At this point on the water-course, an area is known to be haunted. Once, the ghosts were terrible apparitions. Everything from headless men and women, black and white dogs, white cats and rabbits, and mysterious shapes that clanked their chains at night were seen at the location. An interesting account is from a well-respected gentleman of Darlington. He remembers reaching cross-road when a creature larger than a dog bounded out of the shadows and looked at him straight on in the middle of the road. It was large and the colour black. He swore that it was a black hound of the devil. Since these times, the area has been built up and is used by all kinds of commuters. In disgust, it is said, the ghost now only appears as domesticated animals.
Centuries ago, when hunting hares with dogs was a popular past-time, a hunt took place at Easington woods. Each time the hunt was arranged, a hare would appear and then lead the dogs directly to Easington town in a straight line. No one was able to explain how the hare was able to trick the dogs who did not wind around or spread out as they usually do. Then someone noticed that the house of an "ill-natured wrinkled old hag" was always shut on hunt days. The woman who lived there worked in the fields and was often out but because of her bad manners it was decided they should investigate. They devised a strange plan to test the truth to this theory. It was said that they should find a black hound that was suckled on a woman's breast and use it in the next hunt. The very next day they took the hound for the hunt. The black hound was able to chase the hare faster than any dog before it and they eventuallly arrived at the old hag's house. In the door there was a little hole for hens to walk in and out and the hare leapt towards it. The black hound was able to take a chunk out of the creature before it vanished into the house. As the rest of the hunt arrived at the house they broke the door down to find no hare but the old hag covered in blood. She was badly wounded. They forced a confession from the woman who asked for a pardon as the letting of her blood had broken her magical powers. According to the story, they left the old hag to bleed in her home and she never taunted the hunt again.
For many years, the ghost of Lady Jarratt has haunted the area of Darlington, where she once lived. Murdered by Oliver Cromwell's soldiers, they looted her riches and even chopped off her arm for the sake of her valuable ring. There are bloodstains on the walls of the manor house, in which she was murdered, that legends says can never be removed. No amount of scouring and white-wash will remove the stubborn stain. The one-armed ghost can be seen in the house and more often heard, rattling her silks in doorways and corridors. Like most silk makers of North Yorkshire and Durham, she exhibits a friendly yet mischievous nature. When there is a death or birth at hand, sevant girls would find their bed sheets yanked away and sometimes they'd be pushed out of bed. Known for despising the factory which used machines and employed children, the ghost often sat on the wall by the river and frightened the urchins on their way to work. From rattling water pumps to jangling pots and pans, the ghost of Lady Jarratt is well-known in the area and is the go-to cause for many unknown phenomena. The daughter of the Bishop of Durham and in a Royalist household, the Parliamentary troops would not have given her a proper burial. For this reason she cannot enter the graveyard and sometimes awaits by its gate hoping to be let in.
Near the village of Brancepeth, in the wild and rugged brush land, there lived a giant wild boar. It was so monstrous and gigantic that it soon destroyed the local surroundings. When it had dug up and eaten all the ground surrounding Brancepeth, it began to wander within the village. Soon the wild boar was so brazen that it began destroying gardens and homes, rummaging for food. It then began attacking people who lived in the village, much to the dismay of the locals. It was only when a young hunter vowed to take care of the boar did the story begin to change. Hodge of Ferry is the man who holds claim to the title of boar slayer. It is written in 19th century literature that Hodge dug a viscious pitfall trap into which he allowed the boar to chase him. Where Hodge jumped over the trap, the boar went straight in with a giant thump and a loud and angry squeal. To finish the job, Hodge leapt into the pit while taking care to avoid the upturned sticks and then chopped of its head. The village would have eaten well that night. Some doubt this story, however it was not uncommon. There also was a large stone coffin discovered which was engraved with a shovel and a sword. It is believed this belonged to the "rustic hero" who took care of the giant monster pig. Perhaps the idolisation of these early prize hunters helped encourage others to seek their prize eventually ending with the extinction of the species.
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Fantastic Britain: Myths And LegendsWritten by Rowan Blair Colver Categories
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