Академический Документы
Профессиональный Документы
Культура Документы
by Nick Smalley
with contributions by members and
friends of Ayrshire & Arran Branch of
the Multiple Sclerosis Society
Acknowledgements
Ayrshire & Arran Branch of the Multiple Sclerosis Society Scotland, would
like to thank those members and friends of the branch whose efforts made
this e-book project possible.
___________________________
Local historian Mae McEwan allowed me to use a newspaper article she had
previously written about folklore in Irvine, and travel writer Norrie Hunter gave
a first-hand account of a spooky experience he’d had in the Caribbean seas.
The accounts which aren’t credited to someone else were written by myself.
Finally a branch member supplied the excellent drawings that are featured
throughout this e-book. This person wishes to remain anonymous and I duly
respect their wishes; however my thanks to them.
Without the help of the people named above, this e-book, which is intended
as a fundraising tool for Ayrshire & Arran Branch of the Multiple Sclerosis
Society Scotland, would have been much harder to put together.
The local Branch services are open to those affected by MS, their families
and carers whilst the national UK Society funds research into establishing
both the cause and hopefully finding a cure for the condition.
Ayrshire and Arran Branch is run entirely by volunteers with no paid staff and
with no government grants. It relies on the help of the people in the Ayrshire
and Arran to continue its work. In almost 40 years the branch has existed,
the community has not let us down.
If you think you could assist us, or indeed think we can help you, please
phone, in confidence, our local office in Kilwinning on 01294 558866,
email us at msayrshirebranch@tiscali.co.uk or visit our website at
www.msayrshire.com
Left: A mistake by a
stonemason can
clearly be seen on
the word ‘gaol’ in
the former County
Court; now home to
the Galleries of
Justice... no wonder
the carved face
looks unhappy!
Often the old-fashioned scent of lavender wafts past as if someone wearing the
perfume has passed close by. Keys disappear and turn up in odd places.
One day a medium visited and told the then landlady that a clock hanging in the
bar was possessed by two evil spirits; which might explain why her two guard
dogs seemed to hate the clock and and would stand barking at it for no reason.
Carved from soft rock, passages below Ye Olde Trip to Jerusalem date back
thousands of years and have probably been in use since the time of the Norman
Conquest in the 11th Century. Below the inn is part of a cave network that has
seen murder, intrigue and scandal over the centuries, so it’s hardly surprising that
there is an oppressive atmosphere. The cellars incorporate a cock-fighting pit and
a rusty gate leads to the castle’s condemned cell where prisoners sentenced to
death were shackled to the wall and simply left until they starved or died of thirst.
When two of the pub’s regular customers spend a night in the condemned cell to
win a bet, they lasted just 20 minutes before hurrying out and being violently sick.
They later told of feeling a presence and seeing a figure moving about in the
shadows, whilst a member of staff working down there on her own also saw
something that she described as a grey mass come out of the cell’s doorway
and move across the cellar floor. She said “I went icy cold, there was a totally evil
feeling in the room, absolutely horrible. I wouldn’t go down there again for weeks,
I was really frightened.”
In the sandstone of the castle rock high above ‘The Trip’ - as the inn is referred to
locally - is a tunnel known as Mortimer’s Hole. Roger Mortimer, the Earl of March,
was the lover of Queen Isobel and an accomplice in the murder of her husband,
Edward II.
At midnight on 19th October 1330, whilst the illicit couple were staying at the
castle, his son Edward III, accompanied by a band of soldiers,entered the secret
network of caves and made their way up a tunnel to a bedchamber in the castle,
where they siezed Mortimer, who was taken back down the tunnel to be tried.
Mortimer was denounced as
a traitor and was hung, drawn
and quartered and his remains
skewered on spikes.
His ghost is said to haunt the
tunnel - known as ‘Mortimer’s
Hole’ - and other parts of the
castle.
I looked through my binoculars towards its bridge but there was no sign of life,
no crew, no one on watch, just an eerie white mist swirling inside. Then, with less
than 50 yards between us, its huge hull, towering above us, the vessel simply
dissolved and vanished into the thin night air. Only the wash from its bow wave
was visible, rocking our ketch, but the sea was empty!
This wasn’t the infamous Bermuda Triangle but a popular sailing ground used by
countless pleasure craft enjoying the warm Caribbean waters.
My wife and I looked at each other, completely stunned and shaken by our near
miss – or was it a close encounter?
Right:
The Freelance... still
ship-shape after its
‘close encounter’.
The Red Lion
by Jim B Cameron
The Wiltshire town of Avesbury is home to some of England’s most ancient and
mysterious sites. Evidence of human activity dates back thousands of years in
the area and it houses Europe's largest stone circle. In fact, it contains many such
sites, dating from as far back as 4,000 BC, some two millennia before Britain’s
most famous stone circle, Stonehenge. Avesbury is also home to one of the most
haunted pubs in England, namely ‘The Red Lion', which is situated within one of
the aforementioned stone circles.
Originally a farmhouse built in the early 1600's, it became a coaching inn at the
start of the 19th Century. It has been voted one of the Top Ten most haunted
pubs in the world, and has been the origin of many strange reports over the
years, with a number of different ghosts reported to haunt the site.The most
famous of these is the ghost of 'Florrie', who lived in the pub in the 17th Century.
While her husband was away fighting in the Civil War, Florrie took a lover.
Unfortunately for Florrie her husband returned home unexpectedly to find her in
the arms of the other man. In a fit of rage the husband shot the man dead and
brutally stabbed Florrie to death before throwing her body down a well and
covering it over with a large boulder. The well, now glassed over, forms a centre-
piece in the bar area. Florrie's ghost has been seen emerging from it, and also
spotted on many occassions in the ladies toilets. ‘Florrie’ has also been blamed
for poltergiest activity; with objects being hurled across the bar and chandeliers
spinning. Patrons with beards apparently have a better chance of seeing Florrie,
leading to the belief that either her husband, or lover, sported one.
Another murder is believed to have taken place within the pub’s walls during the
17th Century when a farmer agreed to harbour some outlaws in his cellar, but
was double-crossed and murdered by them.
The figure of a man carrying a blade has been
reported by a number of psychics, but whether
this is the ‘murdered farmer’ or possibly the
spirit of Florrie's husband whose rage has yet
to abate, is not known. An investigator,
unaware of the building’s history, reported the
apparition of a man thrusting a knife furiously in
his direction.
Other ghosts often sighted include a pair of
children that have been seen cowering in the
corner of a room whilst a woman looks on
unconcernedly and a ghostly horse-drawn
carriage arrives in the courtyard and members
of staff have heard the clattering of hooves
beyond the building’s doors.... though most
choosing not to investigate what is believed
to be an omen of impending ill fortune.
The Clencher, Large Purple Fingers and
a Naked Man... Welcome to Aberdeen!
‘The Northern Lights of Old Aberdeen’ the popular folk song goes, but judging
by the number of ghost sightings in the granite city, maybe this song should be
re-titled the Northern ‘Frights’ of Old Aberdeen!
Following reports of unexplained disturbances in Aberdeen Central Library, a
team of paranormal investigators heard footsteps, whispering and the sound
of a bell being tolled, although nobody else was in the building and when the
now-demolished Amatola Hotel still stood in the city’s Great Western Road, it
boasted an apparition of a lady wearing 19th Century clothing who was frequently
seen on a landing in the oldest part of the establishment.
In another now-demolished hostelry, the White Dove Hotel, a nurse attending a
guest who was dying of fever in the late 1800s saw the figure of a young Asian
girl appear alongside her patient. The girl had such dreadful injuries to her neck
that the nurse fainted at the apparition. When she recovered consciousness, her
patient had died.
In the 1970s, the semi-transparent hooded figure of a monk was seen several
times near a bus stop on the city’s Kincorthland Estate. A woman who was
walking her dog in the early hours saw the figure and felt an overwhelming need
to approach it... as she did so, it “dissolved into a mist and faded away”.
In the early 1900s, staff at the Palace Hotel were amazed when a naked man
hammered on the hotel’s windows each night for a week. When they eventually
got outside quickly enough to challenge him, the man floated away leaving no
footprints in the freshly fallen snow... he was never seen again.
At St. Machar Cathedral, a group of passers-by were horrified to see large purple
fingers with unnaturally long black nails curling around the cathedral’s door...
understandably enough, they ran away.
A former resident of the Old Fire Station - now student accommodation - recalled
how a silhouetted figure came out of the wall towards him whilst he was in the
shower. He jumped out of the shower injuring his head in the process. He later
learned the apparition had been seen many times before.
In Union Street, people going about their business have reported being ‘grabbed’
by an invisible force that squeezes their arms, legs - or far more alarmingly - their
throat for a few seconds before letting go. Locals refer to this manifestation as
‘The Clencher’ and is thought to be the ghost of a child that died a violent death
in the street during the Victorian era.
At Craigievar Castle, the ghost of a man haunts the Blue Room, from the window
of which he fell to his death, whilst the ghost of a fiddle-player who drowned in the
castle grounds only manifests to people named Forbes.
The Baleful Girl
A Welsh family’s home has been the scene of many disturbing happenings.
The house is home to a couple in their early 50s, their teenage daughter and her
fiance. The owner’s parents had previously lived - and died - in the house.
All four people who live in the semi-detatched house in the North Wales town of
Wrexham, told how, when they walk along the hallway to the kitchen, they feel
someone is following just inches from their back. This ‘feeling’ often follows them
when they go up the stairs or leave through the front door. The family keep quiet
about their experiences for fear of ridicule or sightseers flocking to their home,
however a friend told them that she feels something brushing by her whenever
she enters the house, as if someone was passing her in the doorway.
On the ground floor they have a large room which has been converted into a
‘granny flat’. This room has had a strange feeling to it since the owners’ parents
died in the room. Family members have seen shadows flitting along walls, heard
a voice calling their names and have felt someone stroking their forehead or
cheek particularly when they are upset.
The daughter’s fiance, when he first visited, wasn’t told about the ‘happenings’
and used that room as a guest room. The next morning at breakfast, he told the
family he could feel someone standing in the room staring at him and that it had
“freaked him out”. Another family friend refuses to go into the room on her own.
One night, the face of a baleful little girl appeared floating in the darkess of the
parents’ bedroom, terrifying them before fading away. When the father recovered
enough to reach towards the area where the face had been, it was icy cold.
A couple of winters ago the mother passed by
an upstairs window to see the face of a middle
aged woman looking back at her from the other
side of the glass. At first she thought she’d
glimpsed her own reflection, but soon realised
that a stranger, whom she had never seen
before, was hovering twenty feet above the
ground outside her bedroom window.
When everyone is downstairs, including their
pets, the family can sometimes hear a child
running around in one of the bedrooms. One
evening, their neighbour, whose house adjoins
their own, came to the door to complain about
the noise being caused by the child that was
running about in the bedroom. Although the
neighbour was shown that the room was empty
and no child was in the house, when she
returned home, could still hear the phantom
footsteps around the bedroom next door.
The Ancient Ram Inn
A family home in Wotton-under-Edge, Gloucestershire is reputedly one of the
most haunted houses in Britain. The house which dates back 900 years and
was formerly ‘The Ram Inn’ is built on an ancient pagan burial site.
The house that used to be, and is still known as, ‘The Ram Inn’ stands on
a ley line running between Ley Farm and a stone-age burial mound known
as ‘Hetty Peglar's Tump’, which is thought to be the underlying reason for the
amazing paranormal activity that has been witnessed there.
The inn’s first recorded use was as housing for masons who worked on the
construction of the nearby St Mary’s Church. The property then fell into the
hands of the Church and housed the local Bishop hence the 'Bishop’s Room'
where at least nine different entities have been seen.
Accessed from the bar area are the remains of a tunnel system, which is
believed to link the pub with St Mary’s Church and Lacock Abbey. The tunnels
may have been used by highwayman to escape the local judiciary.
The property became an inn during the late 1800s, but John Humphries, the
present owner bought it in 1968 and turned it into a private residence.
John's bedroom is a converted loft located directly above the kitchen which,
until recently, was the focus of poltergeist activity. John would be kept awake
by tapping and banging on the window. Possessions would disappear and
later be found in other rooms of the inn. The paranormal activity came to a
stop when a cross was placed on the wall.
Next to the kitchen is a former stable which John uses as a living area. In this
room, he has seen lights dancing around near to the door. A teenager who
attended a paranormal tour at the property was thrown to the floor in this
room in front of several witnesses. A large and heavy curtain that was used to
separate the room during the winter months was torn apart and clawing
sounds, like those of a large dog, have been heard behind a wall where
centuries ago a door used to be.
John has furnished The Ram Inn with period furniture in a style befitting its
age and history. He once bought a painting of Rev. John Wesley, founder of
the Methodist movement, to hang on the staircase, but as soon as he got it
through the front door he described ‘all hell breaking loose’. Doors that had
been secured and locked slammed shut at night and there were knocks on all
the windows of the inn. John found puddles of water in several of the inn’s
rooms and some visitors complained of strange smells.
In 1997, John allowed a paranormal group from Swindon to excavate near
the stairwell to try and find a rumoured cellar dating back to earlier times,
but they found nothing. However, that night a baby’s cries were heard issuing
from the hole they’d excavated.
The Bishop’s Room is considered to be the main focus of the haunting, with
several different ghosts being sighted in this room, including that of a cavalier
which appears in the corner of the room and a figure of a young lady has
been seen hanging from the ceiling. When a chimney in the room was
opened up during repair work, black magic and satanic artefacts were found
behind the brickwork.
In the kitchen many people have felt the presence of a malevolent force in
a well, used for drawing water until about 1700. This room especially affects
women, with lady visitors often reporting cold spots and feeling dizzy.
There is anecdotal evidence of devil worship having taken place at the
premises and the ritual sacrifice of children. In the kitchen area a grave was
excavated and the remains of a woman and child were found. Along with
these bodies, knives were found and experts at Bristol Museum, who studied
the bodies and artefacts, believed that they had been killed in ritual sacrifice.
A family who visited the Ram Inn ran from this room screaming. After they
had calmed down they reported seeing the ghostly apparition of a woman rise
up out of the floor.
The former Bishop of Gloucester the Right Reverend John Yates, is reported
to have tried and failed to exorcise it and was quoted in the local press as
saying it was “the most evil place I have ever had the misfortune to visit”.
Right:
In spite of
its homely,
olde worlde,
appearance,
the former
Ram Inn has
a disturbing
history of
psychic
disturbances.
The Gresford Suicide
A Mr Williams of Gresford, near Wrexham, had a terrifying experience back
in the 19th century, whilst he was enjoying an evening stroll with his friend,
Mr Jones, a builder who lived in nearby Marford.
They were walking down the hill that linked the two villages when suddenly
they saw approaching them through the gathering gloom an unearthly white
figure. The men stopped in their tracks and watched with growing unease as
it came closer.
The figure looked like everyone's classic idea of a ghost. It was dressed in a
white robe with its hair billowing about its head although there was no wind
that evening. As their anxiety grew, they hoped that someone was playing a
prank on them. Suddenly, Mr Jones laughed; he had recognised the figure.
It was Mr Williams' wife!
“Now you're for it”, he joked to his friend. He assumed they had stayed out
too long and Mrs Williams was coming to find them. However, Mr Williams
was not amused at all. His wife’s face was drawn and desperate. What on
earth was wrong? Why had she come outdoors in her nightgown? He moved
toward her to comfort her... and she turned away and vanished!
The friends were dumbfounded. Mr Williams lost no time. He sensed that
something was terribly wrong and hurried down the hill towards his home,
with Mr Jones close on his heels.
At last they reached Mr Williams’
home in Gresford. All was dark and
cold. There was no supper on the
table, ready for his return, which
was unusual.
Heart thumping, Mr Williams called
out his wife’s name but received
no response. He lit a candle and
started a frantic search of the the
house for her.
He found her hanging from a rope
attached to the sitting room ceiling
having committed suicide.
Both he and Mr Jones later realised
that the figure they had seen on the
road must have been that of his
wife at the moment of her death,
when her desperate spirit had come
in search of her husband.
The Kennedys of Culzean Castle
An account by Jim B Cameron
It is believed that a structure of some form has stood on the site since the
early 12th century, but our interest begins in the year 1243 when present day
Ayrshire was know as Carrick. Gillescop MacKenedi is believed to have
become Steward (although the earliest official mention of the clan was in
1358 with the granting of land to John Kennedy of Dunure, later recorded as
Steward of Carrick in 1367).
The Kennedys were powerful; the name appears in various forms such as
MacKenedy and MacKenede giving an indication of their growing size and
influence in the region. The castle is said to be haunted by many ghosts,
including one believed to be an actual Kennedy ancestor, Sir Thomas
Kennedy, who was known as the 'Tutor of Cassillis'. He bought the ruined
tower house in the late 1500's, rebuilt the tower and renamed it 'Cullean' after
a former abode (the name 'Culzean' did not appear until the late 1700's).
It was Sir Thomas and the Earl who were responsible for the infamous
'Roasting of the Abbot of Crossraguel' within Dunure Castle ... they roasted
the Abbott alive on a hot spit until he relinquished the ownership of the
Abbey lands to them, something he was able to later recant.
A number of visitors have reported sightings of a strange, misty apparition in
the grounds as recently as 1976. This is believed to be the ghost of a
princess who was killed in the Green Room, and it has been said that new
members of staff are warned not to be surprised if they come across a ghost
down near the dungeons. Similarly, the spirit of a young, but unknown,
woman dressed in a ball gown is said to roam Culzean, but no-one can say
what events link her appearances to the castle... it's a mystery.
It is also reported that throughout the thunderous waves and howling winds
on many a rain soaked, stormy night, a ghostly piper can be heard within the
castle grounds. The sound of the pipes is said to celebrate the marriage of
Clan family members.
There is also a castle legend that tells of the kidnap of a young heiress by a
'supernatural' knight, who imprisons her within the castle and threatens her
with death. The heiress however had other plans, and after lulling the knight
to sleep, snatched up his dirk and brutally stabbed him to death with his own
weapon.
Real life was to mirror the legend when May Kennedy was abducted by
Sir John Cathcart. Cathcart had murdered his first wife and he seems to
have had similar plans for May. Fortunately, May seems to have got wise
to Sir John’s less than honourable intentions and pushed him from the cliffs
near his residence at Carelton Castle, where he is said to stalk the ruins
to this day.
Windhouse
Shetland's most haunted house is a Category C listed building located on a
hillside in Mid Yell. First built in the 1600's higher up the hill, Windhouse was
moved in 1707 and was rebuilt in 1880. The house has been derelict since
the 1920's; but Windhouse has many stories of haunting. It was rebuilt in
1880 on an old Celtic burial ground... not an ideal site for a happy home!
For years people have told many tales of experiences in Windhouse - weird
noises, people appearing and disappearing, seemingly just walking through
walls. A local man recalls watching his father put out his hand to stroke a
strange dog which vanished as soon as he touched it!
Many a tale has been told of the guests that came to visit and decided not to
stay the night, packing their belongings and leaving, whatever the time or the
weather conditions. The whole house was subject to haunting, and although
the winds in these remote parts can be chilling there was no explanation for
the cold spots that people would encounter.
Laughter and disembodied voices of people could be heard in empty rooms,
especially the bedrooms. There was one bedroom in particular that people
refused to go into. According to a resident of Mid-Yell, there was an incident
where the maid was trying to make the bed and ran out of the room because
every time she tried to make it someone started laughing.
One family who lived in the house had workmen in to do some job or another
that involved lifting the floor boards, under which a skeleton was found, with
its skull broken, possibly by a blow to the head.
When the house was inhabited, an old sea chest used to stand in the hall and
one day, a householder tried to get into it to have a look at what was inside
but it was locked. As he examined the chest, looking for a way to open it, a
strange mist appeared from one of its corners and proceeded to rise above
the chest. The mist then formed the apparition of a man. Seconds after the
formation took place, it disappeared back into the chest.
One evening in the early 1900s, the residents had all had gone out for a walk
and by the time they returned it was dark. On their way up the road leading to
the house, the family stood there in disbelief as one by one, each window of
the house became a bright blaze of light.
In only a few seconds the entire house was lit up like a beacon, and it
remained so for half a minute. Then, just as quickly as it had happened, the
lights went out one by one until the house was again in total darkness.
Windhouse had no electricity, either by mains or generator.
In 2003 a couple from Cheshire dismissed the spooky history and bought
Windhouse (pictured opposite) with a view to renovating it, but, according to
local sources, this has not yet taken place.
Frightful Fiends
“Like one, that on a lonesome road,
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turn’d round walks on,
And turns no more his head;
Because he knows, a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread.”
‘The Rime of the Ancyent Marinere’
Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834)
For those readers unfamiliar with the poem from which the above verse is
taken, here is a brief synopsis:
An old man forcibly stops a guest who is on his way to a wedding and relates
a story, telling how he was on board a sailing ship which encountered bad
weather and was blown southwards across the equator until the vessel
became trapped in Antarctic ice.
Following the appearance of an albatross, a bird that is believed to be a good
omen for sailors, the weather improved and the ship was blown towards
warmer waters and its crew were saved.
The crew befriended the albatross, which followed the ship day by day, until
the mariner, who is the subject of the poem, killed it with a shot from his bow.
Immediately afterwards, the ship was beset by misfortune, with the vessel
soon becoming becalmed in a windless sea whilst all on board suffered from
dehydration and heatstroke. Those on board blamed the mariner’s actions
for their misfortune and condemned him to wear the slain albatross around
his neck as an emblem of his guilt.
The mariner, however, saw a ship appearing over the horizon and alerted
his shipmates to their possible salvation... but, when it drew alongside they
realised to their dismay that the vessel was a ‘ghost ship; with a crew of
only two...namely ‘Death’ and ‘Life-in-Death’, who threw dice to win the souls
of the unfortunate crew of the ship.
‘Death’ won the souls of the crew, who immediately died en-masse. Whilst
‘Life-in-Death’ won that of the mariner, condemning him, as punishment for
killing the albatross, to wander the earth telling his story.
In his poem, the fiend that Coleridge had in mind when he wrote the above
stanza may have been something like the one which frequently crops up in
folklore all over the world - the phantom dog.
In Wales, this spectre is called Gwyllgi, or Dog of Darkness; a terrifying
apparition in the form of a huge hound with a shaggy pelt and great glowing
red eyes. The favourite haunt of Gwyllgi were lonely roads at night.
A lane in the parish of Marchwiel in North Wales, is called Lon Bwbach Ddu
(Lane of the Black Spectre) probably recalling such a haunting.
An encounter near Ruthin with one of these hell hounds was recorded by the
author T.Gwynn Jones in 1930.
“My grandmother declared that as she and my grandfather were riding on
horseback from Ruthin one evening, in passing a roadside house, the nag
suddenly shied and pressed to the hedge. At the moment an extremely tall
mastiff-type dog was passing on the other side”.
“My grandfather who rode directly behind saw nothing at all and his horse
had not been startled. They had just come to live in the district and only got
to know afterwards that the house was said to be haunted by a Gwyllgi.”
A more alarming adventure was had by Edward Jones as he was returning
home late one night from a fair at Cynwyd, near Corwen when an enormous
black hound followed him across the moor, literally dogging his footsteps,
keeping just behind as he hurried along. He said it was “a beast of fearsome
visage and blood-shot eye”.
At any moment he expected to feel its jaws clamp upon him and he suffered
terrible anxiety and a cold sweat. The dreaded climax never came however,
and when nervous and exhausted, he eventually reached his farm gate, he
found the beast had vanished.
Stories of phantom black dogs abound in Britain, almost every county has
its own variant, from the Black Shuck of East Anglia to the Bogey Beast of
Yorkshire. Phantom black dogs have been witnessed too frequently in modern
times to label the phenomena as simply folklore and legend, but then folklore
and legend often has origins in real events.
There are various theories to explain the phenomena and they seem to have
many common traits from sighting to sighting. There are so many myths,
tales, legends and sightings of this fearsome apparition that it is hard to know
where to begin.
Black Shuck is said to be one of the oldest phantoms of Great Britain, with
the name possibly deriving from the Anglo-Saxon word 'scucca' meaning
demon or devil.
Other historians say that the hound has its origins in Norse mythology based
on the name of 'Shukir', the huge dog of war of Odin and Thor who came
over to Britain thousands of years ago along with the Viking long-ships.
Black shuck is the name given to the large black dog which is said to roam
the Norfolk and Suffolk coastline and the Waveney river valley.
For centuries, the inhabitants of East Anglia have told tales of a large black
hellhound, the size of a calf, with flaming eyes.
Even as recently as the 1970s, the huge snarling dog was reportedly seen
on the beach at the holiday resort of Great Yarmouth, but one of the most
vivid reports comes from the parish record of its appearance at Holy Trinity
Church in Blythburgh, near the Suffolk border on August 4, 1577.
Written in the language of the day, it tells how a tremendous thunderstorm
was raging outside during the morning service when “...this black dog, or the
divel in such a likenesse (God hee knoweth al who worketh all,) runing all
along down the body of the church with great swiftnesse, and incredible
haste, among the people, in a visible fourm and shape, passed between two
persons, as they were kneeling uppon their knees, and occupied in prayer
as it seemed, wrung the necks of them bothe at one instant clene backward,
in so much that even at a moment where they kneeled, they strangely dyed.”
The spectral hound is said to have burst in through the large wooden church
doors, run up the nave passing the large congregation, before killing a man
and boy. As black shuck left, the church spire collapsed through the roof.
Black scorch marks, which parishioners believed to be the devil’s fingerprints,
appeared on the north door and can be seen at the church to this day.
A pack of fiendish dogs known as the Whist Hounds is said to roam Dartmoor
in Devon and was the inspiration for Sir Arthur Conan Doyle to write the
Sherlock Holmes mystery, The Hound of the Baskervilles. The author is said
to have been inspired by the legend of Squire Richard Cabell, a keen hunter
from Brook Manor, Buckfastleigh.
The squire was rumoured to have sold his soul to the Devil and after he died
on July 5, 1677, a phantom pack of black hunting dogs with glowing red eyes
is said to have raced across Dartmoor on
the night of his interment, breathing fire
and howling at his tomb. According to local
legend, the demonic hounds have roamed
the moor ever since and can often be
seen around the anniversary of his death
prowling around the grave trying to get
the promised soul for the Devil.
Still on Dartmoor, at the aptly named
Hound Tor, a four-legged fiend with
glowing eyes and a blood-curdling howl
stalks the spot, which makes this photo
of a mystery creature taken at Hound Tor
more intriguing than ever. Seen only yards
away from a party of schoolchildren, the
animal has a thick, shaggy coat, rounded
ears and large front limbs which would be
powerful enough to tear human flesh.
The Ghost of the Legendmaker
Beddgelert village lies at the foot of Mount Snowdon, the highest mountain
in Wales. The village is a significant tourist attraction, its picturesque bridge
crossing the river Colwyn just upstream of its confluence with the river
Glaslyn. It is the nearest village to the scenic Glaslyn gorge, an area of
tumultuous river running between steep wooded hills. Rhododendrons
provide a covering of pink blossom in May and June. Beddgelert is linked
to the famous Rupert the Bear stories, as Alfred Bestall wrote and illustrated
some of these whilst he lived here.
There is a local legend which has drawn tourists to the village for 200 years.
The legend tells that Llywelyn the Great, Prince of Gwynedd, who ruled
Wales for four decades in the 12th and 13th Centuries, was fond of hunting
and spent each summer in a hunting lodge in Snowdonia. Although he had
many dogs, his favourite was Gelert, because not only was Gelert fearless
in the hunt he was also a loyal friend and companion at home.
One day Llywelyn and his wife went out hunting, leaving their baby son with
a nurse and a servant to look after him. However, the irresponsible staff went
for a walk in the mountains leaving the baby alone and unprotected.
Llywelyn was absorbed in his hunting, but after a while he noticed that
Gelert wasn’t with the pack of hounds. The Prince knew something was
wrong as Gelert was always at the front of the pack. He reasoned that the
only place the dog would go was back to the lodge, so he called off the hunt
and headed back home.
As the party dismounted, Gelert came running out of the lodge towards his
master, covered in blood and wagging his tail. The Princess, calling her
child's name, fainted. Llywelyn rushed into the baby's room to find the cradle
overturned, the bloodstained bedclothes thrown all over the floor - and no
sign of his son.
Filled with anger and grief, he drew his sword and ran Gelert through. But as
the dog’s dying whimpers were answered by the sound of a baby crying from
behind the overturned cradle. When Llywelyn pulled aside the cradle he
found his son unharmed and the body of a huge wolf next to him. Gelert had
in fact killed the wolf as it tried to attack Llywelyn's son.
Filled with remorse, Llywelyn buried Gelert in a meadow nearby and marked
his grave with a cairn of stones. The village of Beddgelert (Gelert's grave)
owes its name to this site.
It is believed that in the 1700s a group of villagers got together and created
the story recounted above, to attract visitors to the village. Their ringleader
was a David Pritchard, landlord of the Goat Inn. The village prospered and he
made his fortune. However, for all his wealth, in 1821 he had a heart attack,
and died without leaving a will.
Some weeks after David’s burial, the Goat Inn was the scene of some very
peculiar goings-on.
Footsteps were heard on the stairs, strange noises in the bedrooms, whilst
in the bar there were sounds of the coal fire being raked. However, nothing
was seen, and it was decided the best course of action was to ignore it.
This course of action didn’t work.... instead of the noises dying away, they
grew louder and more frequent and soon, bar staff and local people started
seeing the ghost of David Pritchard himself.
At one point he was seen walking around the village itself. Understandably,
the villagers were petrified. Doors and windows were bolted, charms and
crucifixes were carried to bed at night.
An old farmer called Huw, a long-standing friend of the landlord, decided to
see if he could find out why the spirit was wandering the village, so stayed
out one night without carrying a charm of any kind.
Sure enough, as he was crossing the bridge the ghost of David Pritchard
appeared in front of him.
Huw shivered but was brave enough to call out to his long time friend. With a
trembling voice Huw asked why his spirit was so disturbed.
The apparition answered: “My dear Huw, there can be no rest until a certain
task is carried out. You are to go to the Inn and look under the hearthstone in
the bar. There you will find a pouch containing one hundred gold guineas
which you are to give to my wife.”
Huw said he understood and that he would undertake the task of reuniting
Mrs Pritchard with the money. Hearing that promise, the ghost faded away.
The coins were found, and the ghost was not seen again.
The Goat Inn still stands in the village of Beddgelert, and perhaps - if you’re
passing you might call in to buy a drink - if you listen carefully as you part
with your money, you might
hear the ghostly chuckle of
the late David Pritchard.
For the record, the village
name is actually derived
from that of a Christian
missionary called Celert
(or Cilert) who settled in
the area in the 8th Century.
Right:
A tranquil view of
Beddgelert.
Man Without A Face
Twenty five year old Janine Munro who had lived all her life in a house close
to Loch Lomond in Dumbartonshire had a good friend, Chloe, with whom
she spent a lot of time with in the 1990s. They’d been friends for ten years.
The pair of them loved anything to do with the outdoors; riding, quad-biking,
going for walks and canoeing were all on their list of ‘things to do’.
One summer’s day the girls decided to spend time at the loch side. They put
up a tent in the woods. They hadn’t seen a soul since they’d arrived, so after
a couple of hours they became bored with their own company and decided
they should head for home to see what their boyfriends were doing.
As they prepared to leave, they heard a noise and looked round to see a
man dressed in an orange boiler suit standing a few feet away. He was
facing away from them and seemed to be looking out across the loch.
They were a little taken aback by the man’s presence as they hadn’t heard
him approaching, but they supposed he was one of the forestry workers that
worked in the area and went back to packing their belongings away.
However, a few moments later, they sensed someone close behind them
and looked round to see who it was. It was then that they screamed.... the
man was only three feet away...and he had no face! Instead, where his face
should have been, was a moving grey mass.
Janine said: “We started running away; we ran and ran, until we reached my
house. We were shocked and couldn’t believe what we’d seen. There was a
grey cloud-like shape where his face should have been. We were so fazed
that we never spoke to each other of what we had seen until the next day.
When I saw my friend the following day, I asked her “did that really happen?”
I was hoping that she would say that I had imagined it, but she said just the
opposite! She told me “It did happen and neither of us will forget it for the rest
of our lives!”
The Enfield Poltergeist
Ghosts and hauntings tend to be associated with museums, castles, mansions
and similar imposing establishments; however, what is regarded as one of the
most spectacular poltergeist cases ever recorded, the Enfield Poltergeist case,
took place in a council house in North London and lasted from August 1977 to
September 1978. During this time a woman and her four children, living in a
council house in Enfield, London, experienced every poltergeist phenomena ever
identified. Over 1,500 phenomena were recorded, beginning with unexplained
sounds and ending with alleged possession and other disturbing occurences.
In one instance, a ‘Lego’ brick was said to have materialised out of thin air, flown
across the room and hit a photographer on the head. Various items caught fire of
their own accord, whilst metal objects such as cutlery and candlesticks bent and
twisted out of shape.
Most disturbing of all, was the apparent possession of twelve-year-old Janet, from
whom eminated a deep gruff male voice on many occassions, saying its name
was Bill and that he was the spirit of someone who had lived in the house many
years before.
The entity sometimes communicated with the family in other ways - rapping on
walls and tables answered questions that they put to it - although Bill’s presence
was far from benign, as Janet was frequently levitated out of bed at night by an
unseen force which trapped her against the ceiling.
In the midst of the disturbances, during an interview in the family’s home, a
photographer snapped a shot just as the telephone handset suddenly flew off the
hook and snaked around in the air whilst Janet
screamed in panic nearby.
When the photo was printed in a newspaper
the following day, a media frenzy ensued as
TV crews and newspaper reporters from across
the country descended on the house, hoping to
witness manifestations of the supernatural.
In the autumn of 1978, more than a year after
they had begun; and despite allegations in the
press of trickery, the disturbances ceased as
suddenly as they had started.
Please make any donations payable to MS Ayrshire & Arran Branch and
send to: Nick Smalley, SOTN, 3 Five Roads, Kilwinning KA13 7JX
Edinburgh Vaults
An account by Carolyn MacIsaac
Beneath Edinburgh’s Cowgate area, under the South Bridge, you will find a
network of underground vaults believed to be the haunting ground of a
number of restless spirits.
The South Bridge was built in the 18th century to improve access to the city.
It consisted of nineteen arches built over the Cowgate ravine. The land below
the bridge was excavated to make dwellings; large and small rooms that
became known as ‘The Edinburgh Vaults’.
When it was finished in 1788 it was decided that the Bridges’ eldest resident,
the wife of a well known and respected judge, should be honoured by being
the first to cross it but, unfortunately, several days before the grand opening,
the judge’s wife passed away.
However, promises had been made, and the city fathers felt obliged to honour
their original agreement, and so the first “body” to cross the South Bridge
crossed it in a coffin.
The locals were horrified! Their new bridge was now cursed! The majority of
the townsfolk refused to cross the bridge for many years, preferring instead
the awkward and impractical route through the deep valley of the Cowgate.
The 18th century inhabitants of Edinburgh may seem overly superstitious
to us today, but over the following centuries it slowly became apparent that
they might, in fact, have had a point…
Merchants and craftsmen who had businesses on the South Bridge used the
vaults for storing wine, dairy and other goods. Families lived in some of the
rooms of the vaults in appalling conditions; no sunlight, no ventilation, no
sanitation and often housing as many as seven, or even ten, people in a
room the size of a small bedroom.
Flooding eventually caused some of the vaults to be abandoned. Commercial
tenants were replaced by poor families. Disease and criminal activity were
rife. Some even say that the area was a source of corpses for the body
snatchers, Burke and Hare.
Some years later the vaults were filled in but 200 years on the vaults were
rediscovered and excavated. Several tour companies will invite you to join
them to meet the ghosts and ghouls of Edinburgh.
A tradesman, a sick old man and a murderer are only a few of the ghosts
mentioned by visitors to the vaults. They are said to appear in many ways;
poltergeist manifestation, on photographs and even face-to-face.
On a tour of the vaults, one tour guide was telling how life was lived in the
subterranean rooms; what businesses had grown there and what types of
articles were found after the excavations started.
After the tour, the visitors were shocked when they looked at the digital
photos they had taken in one of the rooms. They thought they were simply
photographing the guide telling the story of the room, while the rest of the
party of visitors looked on. In fact the photo showed the ghostly form of a
cobbler, reclining with his arm outstretched as if listening to the stories.
No matter how the photographer tried to touch up the picture, in order to
remove the reflection, it merely sharpened the image. Perhaps he had
captured the image of a friendly ghost, amused to think that people are
interested to hear about his life, hundreds of years ago.
Not all of the ghosts are friendly. Reports of shifting dark shadows, sensations
of being touched, grabbed and even burned are described by visitors to some
of the vaults.
We should remember that this
area housed the very poorest
and most disreputable sections
of society at one point.
The population of the area
included Highlanders seeking
refuge from the clearances,
mercenary landlords, and even
body snatchers!
With so many people packed
tightly, living on top of each other
we must realise that life was
dangerous and for a lot of them
very unhappy.
Perhaps this explains the
restless spirits who roam
these vaults.
Having become disabled in my late forties I decided to fill my time with one
of my hobbies, the history of the Garnock Valley. This led to me to becoming
a member of the Garnock Valley Heritage Society based in the Stables
Museum, next to the Walker Hall in Kilbirnie.
Of course the museum was run by a voluntary staff and, as in all things
voluntary, I soon found myself sitting alone while manning the museum.
This didn't bother me as I always enjoyed my own company and didn’t think
I was of a fanciful or suspicious frame of mind.
I had heard of a ghost that was supposed to haunt the Walker Hall next door.
This was, so the story went, the spirit of an old hall keeper who, upon dying,
decided to get his own back on the youth of the next generation.
Having spent most of my callow youth in the Walker Hall I thought it best not
to antagonise even the oldest of spooks, although as a youth, I delighted in
pulling the odd prank on figures of authority. But, to get back to the theme of
this tale; as I said I enjoyed being on my own in the museum and at the start
I was too busy putting hard copy down on my computer for further reference.
There was a part of the museum panelled over and this roused my curiosity.
I just had to see what was behind the panelling and decided to take some
panels down. I enlisted the help of my eldest son, soon bringing it to a pile of
wood and splinters.
Behind the panel I found the oldest part of the museum, namely the stables
themselves. These, I was informed at a later date, were the finest example of
old Scottish architecture that a historian friend of mine had ever seen.
Soon after that I got back to the historical documentation I was involved in.
As stated before I've never been of a fanciful nature but, I nevertheless
began to see things out of the corner of my eye. This further compounded
itself when I began to feel light brushing sensations against my left cheek.
Thinking about this rationally - which I thought was the best thing to do - as
there was no one else there we had to have a ghost in the museum.
Having had more than the odd dalliance with members of the opposite sex
when younger - much to the embarrassment of my children - I decided to
name the ghost Jeannie.
As soon as I did this the strange occurrences ceased, apart from the odd
movement seen out of the corner of my eye. Should anyone ever have
visited the museum during these times they would have probably thought me
unhinged to say the least, as I would have been seen talking to fresh air.
I worked away for many years in the company of Jeannie, documenting
historical data from the past; but everything has its time to run and through
withdrawal of funding the museum had to close, unfortunately. It was a sad
time for me to leave the museum but I did take copious amount of museum
material away with me to work on at home.
I often think of the museum and Jeannie. Would I be welcome back there,
or did Jeannie follow the things I took from the museum? I now enjoy the
most tranquil of lives, so maybe Jeannie is not so far away.
There is nothing to be afraid of,
it is only the wind
changing to the east, it is only
your father the thunder
your mother the rain
Margaret Atwood
Something of the Night has been published by
the author on behalf of Ayrshire and Arran
branch of the Multiple Sclerosis Society.
All rights reserved.
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