Folklore of Northamptonshire
Page 13
The southern parts of the county also have their fair share of dark figures that have been seen through the ages. At Salcey a tall monk wearing a black cloak and hood glides across a cornfield on the edge of the woodland. At Milton Malsor, ghostly figures pass from a driveway, across the lane and into a walled footpath on the opposite side. After a few paces, the monks turn left and walk through the bricked-up doorway of a large house in the vicinity.
One of the most vivid of the tales is associated with Passenham where a luminous skeletal horseman, with a broken neck, has been seen on past occasions, being dragged along the road attached to the stirrups of his ghostly mount, until they reach the churchyard where both disappear.
A tradition at Cosgrove is that a prosperous family in the village forbade their daughter from associating with a humble shepherd boy. To ensure this command was met, the father managed to have the boy convicted for sheep stealing, a crime of which he was innocent. His plan backfired however, for after the boy was transported to the colonies, the distraught girl plunged into the mill race. It is said that her apparition can sometimes be seen, whenever there is a full moon.
Charles II is said to have acquired an isolated lodge in the centre of Salcey Lawn, for his mistress, Nell Gwynne. During one prolonged stay, she grew bored awaiting the king’s arrival, and took another lover. Charles was not pleased and had him murdered, after which a ghost was seen rushing around the wood. Nell herself has also been seen, seated in what was formerly the orchard of the house.
One of the strangest supernatural occurences in the county occurred comparatively recently at Teeton and was well-publicised at the time in the winter of 1947/1948, when the squire, Sir Robert Fossett became ill and was taken to hospital. While he was away, his sister Margaret Leatherland was milking a cow, when she saw his face appear on the froth in the bucket. She took it outside, but the face was still there. This continued over the following days, witnessed by others who could offer no explanation. Photographs were taken, and incredulous visitors came to see for themselves, only to leave none the wiser. Scouring was tried to remove the image but was unsuccessful, and it was only about three months later when Sir Robert died, that the face finally vanished.
The county also has its fair share of ‘grey ladies’, ghostly horses and carriages, phantom riders and other eerie phenomena At Dallington two incidents took place the church of St Mary, the first in 1907 when a girl from Harlestone and a friend who had come up from Kent to stay with her, went for a long walk in the countryside and reached Dallington as dusk was drawing in. The local girl went into the church while her friend looked around the churchyard, but very soon rushed out after seeing the interior full of spectral kneeling people enclosed in a ‘bubble-like’ form. The second girl went to see for herself and followed suit. Years later, a pupil slowly coming home from school by herself came across the Grey Lady (a former Lady Spenser) occasionally encountered near the church, wearing a flowing grey cape. She excitedly told friends at school the next day, one of whom accompanied her at the end of the afternoon to see for herself. The ghost duly obliged, this time stopping to look at them, making the girls turn to run away. However they were unable to do so, a powerful force holding them back. Eventually it subsided and the girls managed to escape.
The centre of Northampton was once noted for frequent sightings of the ‘Cock Lane Ghost’, a saddler’s apprentice who had been so cruelly mistreated by his master, that eventually he died, his body being quickly disposed of by the perpetrator of the deed. The sightings began to cause such terror amongst townsfolk that they would avoid the area after dark, and got so bad, the name of the street was changed to Wood Street, after the sawmills in the vicinity.
Ratling Irons Plantation is a spinney to the east of Thorpe Achurch. It was here during the Napoleonic Wars that French prisoners of war were chained overnight en route to Norman Cross. It is said that many of them were so badly treated and tortured by cruel escorts, that a psychic ‘imprint’ was left in the vicinity, with their cries, moans and the dragging of chains audible to anyone daring to enter the wood.
Legend has it that a murder was committed at Haunt Hill House in Weldon, and that rusty-coloured marks on the stone floor are bloodstains that cannot be removed. The assertion may have been inspired by the influential Walter Scott whose Chronicles of the Canongate (1827-8) have a tale about indelible bloodstains, likewise ‘Rookwood’ by Harrison Ainsworth.
Haunt Hill House, Weldon.
It could be possible that the house was built on a piece of ground known as ‘the haunted hill’ – but villagers have not been able to ascertain the origin. It was built by Humphrey Frisby between 1636-1643 when he married Elizabeth Grumbold, uniting two foremost families of local stonemasons. However, there are various legends connected with the building and the bloodstains, one of which tells of strange noises often being heard often after dark, and a white figure frequently seen flitting around the house about midnight, supposedly of a nun who was once murdered there. In another legend, told by Annie Beaver, who spent her long life in the village, a white-haired, long bearded man lived in the house. One night during a deep sleep, he was awoken by the sound of a cockerel crowing eerily. Lifting his head from the pillow he saw a ghostly snow-white cock perched on the bottom of his bed looking at him. He had heard the story of the cockerel many times before, but did not believe in such superstitious things. Instead he wondered how it had got into his bedroom and jumping out of bed, made to grab the bird, arms outstretched, but it flew off soundlessly around the room, down the stairs. He gave full pursuit, then:
At last he got his hands on it and held it up in triumph thinking it would make a nice dinner the next day, wrung its neck, tied a string round its legs and hung it up on the ceiling beam. Next morning a small pool of blood had formed on floor beneath it. Getting soap, scrubbing brush and bowl of water, he started to clean it up but he was never able to remove it.
A more amusing tale about the house originates from more recent times. In the 1930s a group of boys decided to spend the night there, taking turns on shift throughout the night to see if anything happened. According to Arthur Cunnington who was present, they took a flask of cold tea, and some bread and jam, and told stories to pass the time, to prepare them for the coming ordeal:
All went well until the middle of the night when there was a sudden fluttering sound in the room, at which everyone panicked and rushed out. Talking to a gardener the next day, he took us back in. He looked around and then came out to us, shaking his head, laughing – and told us what the noise was. A starling had got stuck in the chimney!
One of the most supernatural places in the county was Boughton Green, a kilometre outside the present village. It was long considered dangerous to pass by the churchyard of the now derelict St John the Baptist on Christmas Eve. In 1875, a young and single local famer, William Parker took the risk of walking back home alone, after a convivial evening with friends at a pub in Moulton. No sooner had he neared the entrance, when he was approached by a very attractive young woman with long flowing red hair whom he found irresistable, and was soon beguiled by her charms and flirtatious behaviour, seemingly oblivious to the warnings of the legend associated with the churchyard. They kissed and arranged to meet the following month. Despite being somewhat inebriated, he noticed she made no sound as she headed towards the churchyard gate, which he thought was strange, but plodded on along the lane to his home. After a good night’s sleep, he realised what had happened, telling everyone in the village to their horror. Sure enough, one month later before the tryst he died of causes unknown.
He had fallen prey to the charms of the ghost of an eighteenth-century girl who had committed suicide in the churchyard following the sudden death of her husband shortly after their wedding at the church. It is said that anyone walking by on that evening will meet either the girl or her husband, depending on their gender, fall under their spell and suffer the same fate as William Parker. The tale is probably another degenerated v
ersion of a winter/spring myth, in this particular case influenced by a Celtic tale.
This led to the appearance of a story in the Northampton County Magazine, which may have been handed down through the years, though the date given for the incident, 1708, is several years too early and is written in a tongue-in-cheek style! The tale starts on Christmas Eve at the ‘hostelrie of ye white Harte’ where a group of tipplers are discussing the strange apparitions said to appear on the eve of Yuletide at Buckton (sic) churchyard. Among the assembly is Jonas White, a weaver from Kingsthorpe, who asserts he is neither afraid of mortal nor ghost. Hearing this, another of the men present, Robert Bletsoe, offers to wager his three-year old horse against White’s pigs, that he would not dare set foot go to the churchyard. The bet is accepted, but unbeknown to White, another man in the group decides to play a prank on him, in which a ghost dressed in black will appear at the spot at midnight:
The ruins of St John the Baptist church at Boughton Green, the scene of ghostly encounters on Christmas Eve.
After a great length of time spent in mirthe and revelrie with the imbibing of strong liquor, Jonas and his company, having fortified their weak and carnal bodies agaynst the fearfulle sightes set off, with lanthornes and thick oaken cudgels...In the meantime, the ungodlie of Moulton had ben searching neare and farre for someone to dresse as a ghoste, according to the plan set down. No person could be found willing to undertake this unholie duty until at length it was reported that in ye Blue Bell there lay a highwayman, who had drunken excess of strong waters. Him they tooke and gave more liquor until at lengthe he had no concernment of that which was going on arounde. Then they stripped him of his clothes and and smeared his bodie with honey and afterwards covered this with sticky messe with soote, so that he looked more like a poore heathen. The drunken sotte was then conveyed to the small wood on the north side of the churchyard, there to await the hour of midnight. At lengthe the bells of Moulton rang out midnight and Jonas, with an ashen face and trembling knees, prepared to fulfil that which he had wagered and started with a skein of thread down the path. At the same time, the men of Moulton waked the drunken highwayman and forecd him up the other end of the pathway. Bletsoe now appeared attired all in white, at the eastern end of the churchyard. The three met in the middle. Jonas White, overwroughte with terror, fell upon the grounde behind a gravestone, his face to the earthe, moaning and muttering, and beseeching the Lord to helpe him out of his pitiable plighte. Robert Bletsoe, on seeing the figure in blacke, thought it must be the ghost of the notorious Captain Slash and fledde, armes waving and uttering fearfulle cries, towards the place where the men of Moulton were hidden. They, supposing him to be the ghost, fledde for their lives back to their homes, where they tolde of strange and supernatural signs they hadde seen. The drunken highwaymen, who was so overcome with liquor, he had no room for feare walked up the path towards the watchers of Kingsthorpe. They, seeing a figure all in black, thought it was the very fiend himselfe, and fledde without casting a looke behind. He was found next morning on the road to Moulton sleeping off the effects of the drunken orgie. Bletsoe made his way home by a devious way, and White, after waitynge til dawne before venturing to move, rose up and returned a chastened man.
In the above tale, mention is made of the notorious Captain Slash, the leader of a band of robbers which terrorised the region. George Catherall and his gang found the Boughton Fair an easy target – being one of the great fairs of the Midlands, it attracted many visitors and therefore lots of money. One night the gang crept up to where the stallholders were sleeping and released the wild beasts from their cages. While everyone was rushing around in the ensuing mayhem, the gang made off with the takings. Catherall was eventually caught and his hanging took place at Northampton racecourse in July 1826. However, a superstition lingered long afterwards that the site of the Fair was haunted by Captain Slash.
Haunted hostelries
Oundle supposedly has two haunted hostelries. The seventeenth-century Ship Inn in West Street has had its fair share of ghostly sightings. A new landlord saw one of his predecessors, who had hanged himself from a bedroom window, brush past him on one occasion, and it was said that guests found it difficult to sleep in a certain room. The nearby Talbot Inn has a well-known association with Mary Queen of Scots who was beheaded at nearby Fotheringhay Castle. A staircase said to be from the former castle is supposed to be the scene of her appearance, and between February and April, appears at the foot of a bed, to look at the occupant. One guest heard a woman sobbing in the next room, and on investigation found it to be unlocked and unoccupied. In 1965, a woman was roused from her slumbers with the feeling of being held down, unable to call out, move, or turn on the light. On another occasion, a group of visitors was discussing the queen, when one of them said jokingly, ‘Where’ s Mary?’ at which a picture crashed to the floor. Fires have also inexplicably broken out, and there have been cases where unseen forces have prevented occupants of one room from leaving, when they try to open the door.
The Talbot Inn, Oundle, scene of many experiences involving the ghost of Mary Queen of Scots.
In the autumn of 1998 experts spent the night in the Thornhill Arms at Rushton, after new owners, Garry and Sue Haynes, their children, staff and customers had all seen woman in an old-fashioned cloak floating past in area between the toilet and doorway. They reported:
Our pet mongrel began acting strangely and would not cross the first floor landing, despite any titbit it was offered or after a great deal of coaxing. You could feel cold spots in the entrance, a key to the cellar turned by itself in the lock, a light bulb disappeared from its socket, and heavy doors slammed shut.
One wonders if the cause was from the building’s use during the Civil War, when it was used as a kind of mortuary for storing soldiers’ bodies before burial. Interestingly, a few body-length slates have survived in the cellar and can be seen today.
The Thornhill Arms at Rushton.
The Bell at Finedon is one of several hostelries claiming to be the oldest in England, but actually dates as a public house from 1872, replacing a much older one of that name which was sited some distance away. It has its ghosts, one of which is supposed to creep into the passage at midnight for a quick drink, presumably spirits of some kind!
The most haunted hostelry in the county has to be the former Black Lion in St Giles Street, Northampton (not to be confused with an older hostelry of that name near the rail station) now the Wig and Pen, which has experienced unexplained phenomena of all descriptions. The switching on and off of lights was a frequent occurrence, and continued even after the wiring system was checked. The cellar area was particularly prone to the sound of footsteps, a heavy barrel was seen being moved from the ramp to the cellar gangway – without a sound, and animals would keep away from the area. Chill air, and a feeling of discomfort and apprehension were normal sensations. On at least one occasion, a strange vapour appeared and lingered in one corner for three minutes, then vanished as quickly as it had come. Among apparitions reported over the years are those of a heavily-built man with a black dog, and a woman in a riding habit. One couple looking after the pub heard an infant crying, and thinking it was their own, got out of bed to attend to it, but found it fast asleep. What is astonishing is the true-life history of the building. On Christmas Eve 1892, the occupier, Andrew McRae, murdered his mistress, Annie Pritchard, and then boiled her head and some of her bones in a copper which he normally used for preparing the bacon that he sold. Their baby also vanished and was never found. Needless to say, he was caught, tried and duly hanged.
The notorious Black Lion pub, now called the Wig and Pen, in Northampton.
Perhaps the most remarkable incident in recent times is that which occurred on a hot summer day during the 1960s, when two boys from Northampton were cycling around the countryside, calling at Woodford on the way. Entering the empty church of St Mary, one of them took photographs of the interior and its furnishings and later had them developed as slides, w
hich were later shown during a family get-together that Christmas. They were amazed to see a transparent white figure of what appeared to be a knight kneeling at the altar. After much media coverage, expert opinion was sought by sceptics to see if the image was a superimposed forgery, but on examination it was proved to be a genuine image.
The altar in the church of St Mary, Woodford, which was the scene of a ghostly apparition.
Elementals
Our ancestors’ belief in elementals shows itself in the names of ancient sites dotted around the countryside. At Nether Heyford is ‘Thurspit’, one of six hollows or pits believed to have been made in the county by giants or demons (Old English ‘thyrs’). Harrow Hill in Brington parish was believed to be a particular supernatural, and hence sacred, site as its name implies (from Old English hears, meaning heathen shrine). Places with the prefix ‘worm’ were in many cases snake-infested, and can be accounted for; others however, like ‘Wormpath’ in the parish of Towcester, could well mean frequented by a ‘dragon’, the Old English ‘wyrm’ having multiple meanings. There are two hollows known as ‘pokepyt’ believed to be the haunt of goblins, a spring called Puckwell in the parish of Aynho, the settlement of Puxley, and Puckwell Hill Field at Glapthorn, all of which get their name from the Old English ‘puca’ for a goblin.
Such was the belief in elementals that until the late nineteenth century, the circular fungal marks sometimes seen in fields and known as ‘fairy rings’ were believed to be caused by their tiny feet when dancing in the moonlight. Brington parish was believed to be the most likely place to encounter the elementals, who also loved to bathe on summer evenings and play among the sedges and reeds of isolated pools and ponds, one celebrated occasion being in 1840 when several people are reported to have witnessed the secretive beings. It was said that their favourite ring resisted attempts at ploughing it out, and that if you ran round it nine times on the first night of the new moon, you would hear a fairy festival taking place in their underground world below.