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Folklore & Legend

This tale comes from CALVER in Derbyshire.
Fear and Fly

At dusk the mist came down: not a slow thickening but cool white tides sliding across the sodden moor and lapping at the outcrops and cancelling teh paths and sheep-pens and every other landmark.

When the old priest stood still, he could hear nothing but his own breathing and then, far off, the barking of a dog - so far away it seemd to come from another world or another time.

He knew he must press on He knew he must get off the moor before darkness came. Proding with his stick and straining with his eyes until he could see nothing but writhing shapes, he worked his way down into the valley.

It was four hours before the poor priest cameupon a little cottage, and that was entirely by chance. A dim light was shining in one upstairs window. With aching eyes and blistered feet, he made his way up to the door.

Over his head, the window was opened. "Who's that?" said a cross voice.

"Father Ned," said the priest.
"Who?"
"Father Ned. I've got lost on the moor."
"Wait a minute," said the voice, and the window was closed again.

A long minute it was! The voice talked to another voice; the voice got dressed and lit a candle and padded downstairs. It belonged to an old woman with eyes like apple pips and a face like sour milk.

"You had better come in," she said.

Father Ned felt much worse now that he had stopped walking. His old bones ached. His head hammered. He wanted to lie down.

"You'd better use our son's bed," said the old woman, leading the priest upstairs. "He's away from home."

The priest mumbled his thanks.

"I can't promise you a quiet night though," the old woman said. "This cottage is haunted."

The old priest lay down. He began to drowse and then to dream but then he was disturbed by the clinking of pots and the rattle of pans in the kitchen below.

The good old body, thought the priest. She's not as sour as she looks...getting me a meal. Before long, Father Ned heard the sound of footsteps and then a voice calling up the stairs: "Armaleg! Armaleg! Come to your supper!"

Slowly the priest sat up and put together his creaking bones. "I'll feel better," he said, "yes, I'll feel better with something inside me."

Father Ned made his way downstairs. The kitchen was lit with dozens of coloured candles and around the table, which was laden with food, the priest saw in the soft light the faces of many beautiful men and women.

"Ah!" said Father Ned. He took the place that had been left for him and smiled at the faces surrounding him. "I always say grace before a meal," he said.

The old priest closed his eyes. "Lord, bless this board," he said:

"Lord, bless this board,
Apple, ale and rye.
May your angels guard us!
May devils fear and fly!"

When father Ned opened his eyes again, the company of beautiful men and women, and the table, and the supper on it, they had all vanished.

A retelling by Kevin Crossley-Holland in his book British Folk Tales - New Versions (Orchard, 1987) of "The Minister and the Fairies" from Household Tales, with other Traditional Remains by Sidney Oldall Addy (1895)

Zennor, Cornwall

In the parish church of St Senara at Zennor, is the figure of a mermaid which is probably the most famous in Cornwall, and which is without doubt the most impressive. It is carved on a plank which was once part of a medieval bench-end, but which, during the restorations of 1890, was made into part of a chair - though this is still used in the church. The story runs that a woman in a long dress used to attend services to listen to the singing of the chorister Matthew Trewhella. One Sunday she managed to lure him down to the village stream, and then down to Pendour Cove, where Matthew disappeared, to become the husband of the mermaid. Tales are told of sailors meeting the mermaid of Zennor, and even of their seeing the sea-children fathered on her by Trewhella.

The stained glass windows on the south side of the chancel show the patron of the church, St Senara, concerning whom virtually nothing is known, but around whom many myths have been born. Legend claims that she is the Princess Asenora of Brittany, condemned to be burned because of a false accusation of infidelity to her husband King Goello. The executioners discovered that she was pregnant, so nailed her into a barrel and threw her into the sea, but she was miraculously saved by an angel, who washed her up on the Irish coast. She bore a son, who eventually became the abbot of St Budoc.

The cross on top of the south porch of the church lay on the ground for some years, and it is said to have healing powers: an old woman placed it on her bed during an illness and cured herself.

(Zennor is signposted to the north of the B3306, to the west of St Ives)

Warleggan, Cornwall

The church of St Bartholomew, in what is reputed to be the loneliest village on Bodmin Moor (the name seems to be from the Welsh Worlegan, meaning a high place), apears to have been bedevilled by some of its clergy from early days, and is famous among tourists for its ghost-stories. Ralph Tramur, the son of the second rector, was generally regarded as a heretic and a witch even in the 14th century, while the curate of 1774, Francis Cole, is said still to haung the road outside Trengoffe, where the wheels of his carriage are heard at night. Modern inhabitants of Warleggan claim that the adjacent Old Rectory (a back gateway gives access into the forecourt of the church), now turned into flats, was badly haunted - images of figures and faces have appeared on the old walls; several different ghosts have been seen.

There are some delightful vertical animal-images on the Norman capitals inside the church (possible rebus symbols), and signs of an ancient Devil's Door in the northern fabric. The steeple which once stood on the tower was struck by lightning in March 1818, doing much damage to the church fabric. This sorry tale reminds us that there was still much reluctance in England to reject the notion that lightning, being the effect of a diabolical agency, might be deflected by the angels (especially the Archangel Michael) or by bells. The lightning rod, which is based on the notion that lightning flash is an electrical discharge, was not attached to an English church until 1762 and even St Paul's Cathedral in London was not protected with a rod until six years later. The story of the reluctant move from diabolism to physics is outlined by Andrew White (A History of the Warfare of Science with Theology in Christendom, 1955).

(Warleggan is isolated between the A30(T) and the A38(T), almost immediately east of Bodmin. It is perhaps best approached by way of the minor road between Cardinham and St Neot.)

Tidworth, Hampshire

The most famous haunting in England during the 17th century was that of the Tedworth Drummer, which reached such fame that Charless II appointed a committee to look into the matter. (The name Tedworth has changed since those days, and there are now two villages, North Tidworth and South Tidworth). This drummer was not a ghost in the ordinary sense of the word - in modern times we would almost certainly call it a poltergeist. An early engraving made to illustrate the book Saducismus Triumphatus by the 17th century student of psychic phenomena, the Reverend Joseph Glanvill, pictured it as a devil. The story opens normally enough in March 1662, with the arrest of a conjurer named William Drury, who had once been a regimental drummer, but who now earned his living as a wandering entertainer. He was arrested for fraud, and brought before the magistrate, Mr Mompesson. Drury was discharged, but had his drum confiscated. Within hours all hell had been let loose - eyewitnesses spoke of the drum rising in the air inside Mompesson's home, and, thus suspended, being beaten by invisible hands. After a few days of ceaseless drumming, which virtually drove Mompesson insane, he managed to have the drum destroyed - but this did not bring an end to the awful sound of constant drumming.

Other strange things began to occur in the house - people were lifted into the air, objects would fly around, thrown by invisible agencies, and so on. Naturally people began to suspect that it was just the fraudulent Drury up to his tricks. Drury was arrested on another charge, and was transported for his crimes. With the physical drummer himself gone, even the committee appointed by the king to investigate the Tedworth hauntings was unable to give a rational explanation for the disturbance. At the end of exactly one year, in 1663, the demons (or whatever they were) left the village for good.

(North Tidworth and South Tidworth straddle the A338, to the west of Andover)

Sible Hedingham, Essex

The Swan Inn in this village was the scene of one of the last fatal witch swimmings. On 3 August 1865 an old Frenchman who had a reputation as a witch, and who made his living telling fortunes and giving advice (in spite of being deaf and dumb) to the locals, was attacked by one Emma Smith of Ridgwell. A crowd soon gathered, and at last they dragged the unfortunate man down to the river by the side of what is now Aberford Street, down to Rawlinson's Mill, and pushed him in to swim him as a witch. The next day the man died of exposure, and though Emma Smith continued to insist that she had been bewitched by the old man, she and one of her accomplices, were tried for murder.

(Sible Hedingham is at the junction of the A604 and B1058)


Thaxted, Essex

The great composer Gustav Holst, who was born at Cheltenham in 1874, lived for many years in this village, first in Monk Street Cottages, which were burned down, and later, from 1917 to 1925, in the manse. While in Thaxted he played the organ in the north transept in the parish church (the choir organ in the tower being a later addition), and composed the famous suite The Planets, in which he gave musical equivalents for the traditional pictures of the planetary virtues and influences, and indicated his deep knowledge of astrology.

(Thaxted is on the B184, north of Great Dunmow. There is a plaque in commemoration of Holst on the front of the manse)

Warboys, Cambridgeshire

Warboys was the scene of one of the most unusual cases of witchcraft in the 16th century, when it was believed that the eldest daughter of Sir Robert Throckmorton was bewitched by a woman called Gammer Alice Samuel. It would appear that the child was a hysteric, and perhaps a little insane, for she complained that Alice was trying to suffocate her with frogs, toads, and cats. Eventually the other daughters of Throckmorton were similarly afflicted, and Alice was taken before one of their uncles, who immediately 'scratched' her as a witch - that is to say, he drew blood from her in the belief that this would relieve the sufferings of those she had enchanted.

A little later it was asserted (on virtually no evidence) that Alice had killed a lady with her witchcraft, and the poor woman was then so persecuted by those around that she eventually confessed before the Bishop of Lincoln to bewitching the children and killing the woman. She was condemned to death, and although she was well over eighty years old, she set up a plea of pregnancy, which convulsed the court with laughter, at which she eventually joined in. She, and her family, were hanged on the 7 April 1593.

The witchcraft historian Montague Summers, records that the husband of the lady allegedly bewitched to death by Alice Samuel left an annuity to Queen's College Cambridge to finance an annual sermon at Huntingdon, to be delivered by one of the divines of the College, on the horrors of witchcraft. The anti-witchcraft sermons appear to have been continued until well into the 19th century.

(Warboys is on the A141 north-east of Huntingdon)


Taken from the Book "The Atlas of Occult Britain" by Charles Walker 1987 (Hamlyn)


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