Drayton Parslow and The Salden Pond Ghost

pond_3_agedHere is a piece of entertaining folklore from my own county of birth, Buckinghamshire in England. I do hope that you’ll find the authentic Buckinghamshire dialect used in this tale adds to its folk heritage which dates from the 1920’s and particularly so as it involves an equally traditional ghost – one with its head tucked underneath its arm.

Headless ghosts, with or without a misplaced head, are an essential ingredient in certain folklore and supernatural tales. Indeed, J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series gave an additional twist to the headless ghost genre with the creation of Gryffinder’s resident ghost – Nearly Headless Nick. The forty-five blunt axe blows of his botched execution left his head attached by a mere flap of skin and sinew, leading him to lament, “My faithful old head, it never saw fit to desert me.

Humour, it seems, remains a close companion of what is clearly a terrible fate and in the English county of Buckinghamshire, skilled linguist and folk-lore researcher, Horace Harman, discovered the tale of the Salden pond ghost just down the hill from village pub which again takes on a certain light touch, especially when recounted in the local dialect which was Harman’s specialty. [1]

The following story is from a much longer conversation recorded by Harman in 1929 on a stormy night in a pub in the small village of  Drayton Parslow, Buckinghamshire.
drayton p

This photograph was taking during the 1920’s by the Reverend David Sheppard.

Here we meet  Jim and Chawley – two wonderful Buckinghamshire characters discussing the Salden pond ghost. It is written in dialect form and I realise this  presents an interesting challenge but it certainly flavours the humour in a way that would lost otherwise.
JIM_CHAWLEY

Chawley: “What a night! ‘Tis as dark as pitch. I a jes come up the road and I dint know how to find mi way. I got in the hedge once or twice as I was a-trying to git out a the way a the pond. This is, I think, about one a the darkest nights as ivver I was in. I could jist see the trees in the hedgerows agenst the sky, and what with the wind a-blowin in the branches and the noise they made, I felt quite creepy as I come up. I shoont like to git fur afeeuld to-night.”

Jim: “You ought to goo down to Sauldin [Salden] an a night like this. That’s wheeur you ought to goo, and then ood see summut.”

Chawley: “What?”

Jim: “Sauldin’s a rum ole pleeace, Sauldin is,’Tis a rum ole pleeace, I tell ye!”

Chawley: “What do you see?”

Jim: “Why, an ole fellur with his feeace under his arm – he comes out an a night like this, I tell ye, ’tis a rum ole pleeace.”

Chawley: “A you sin him?”

Jim: “Ant I begad – many a time.”

Chawley: “What does he do?”

Jim: “Well I ull tell ye. When you git down tuther side a Sauldin pond on a night like this, and you be a-gooin an the road, thaiur’s  an ole fellur as comes and walks by yur side – thaiur he is a-gooin and by the side a ye, and thair’s he old feeace under his arm a-looking at ye all the time, and he keeps an till he gits to a certain pleeace and then he leeaves ye. He walks by yur side all the time and nivver speeaks.”

Chawley: “Don’t ye crack him an the head wi yur stick?”

Jim: “No begad; I allus let him alooan; these things be best let alooan. Beside, he nivver hurts ye. Many a time has he bin by mi side and he nivver does nauthing. If ye were to follur him, I rickun he ood taiak ye to a pleeace wheeur thaiur’s a pot of money or summut like that; but thaiur ‘aint anybody has got the pluck to goo wi him.”

Chawley: “When did you see him fust?”

Jim: “One dark night when I was wi ole Tom Kirk. We were an tuther side a pond when ole Tom says to me, ‘Look out Jim, heear he is!’  And thaiur he was too, a-walkin’ by the side an us. My heear stood on end and lifted mi cap right up.
I tell ye I had got the wind up properly. There he kep an by the side an us with his old feeace under his arm a-lookin’ at us.”

Chawley: “What did ole Tom do?”

Jim: “Nauthin. All he said was. ‘Let him alooan. Taiak no no-atice an him.’ Ole Tom had sin him many a time, so he was quite used to him. He lived just tuther side a the pond and had walked the rooad all the times a night, so he dint mind him. I ull taiak ye down to Sauldin pond one a these dark  night. Will you goo?”

Chawley: “Yis, I ull. What’s the time?”

Jim: “Why gettin’ an.”

Chawley: I shull have to make a move.”

Jim: “So shull I.”

Chawley: “I hope I don’t meet the ole fellur down the road.”

Jim: “He dooant get as fur as this. We ull goo down to Sauldin pond one a these nights and ull show ye him.”

Chawley: “I shall taiak a good stick.”

Jim: ” You leave him alooan: he won’t hurt ye. If you got a-meesin him aboot, thaiurs no tellin what he ood do!”

Chawley: “Well good night all.”

Jim: “Goodnight. Keep yur eyes open when you’re gooin down. Look well into the hedge.”

Chawley: “Goodnight Jim, Shant believe these things you a told us tonight.”

Jim: “Pleease yurself. They all be true.”

pond_new

[1] The above extracts are reproduced with thanks to Harman, H., Buckinghamshire Dialect, Hazell, Watson & Viney Ltd: London & Aylesbury, 1929.

 

 

 

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The Night Lambourn Town Was Set on Fire

carter_fire oneWander through the churchyard of the ancient parish church of St. Michael and All Angels in the historic English town of Lambourn, Berkshire, and you’ll discover a curious tombstone – a tombstone with a message.

Beneath this tombstone lie the remains of John Carter who was the last man in England to be executed for arson. He didn’t merely set fire to hay-ricks, farm cottages or wagons, as many disgruntled farm labourers were want to do when laid-off work through the introduction of new farm machinery and low wages, but he set fire to his home town of Lambourn.

carter_lambourn redl lion

LAMBOURN HIGH STREET & THE RED LION PUBLIC HOUSE

So significant was his crime to all those souls who learnt about this wanton act, over five thousand people turned up to witness his death on the scaffold set on the roof-top of Reading gaol on March 16th 1833.
carter_reading gaol_1

The deterrent of the noose and ‘the drop’ would normally be the end of the line with his body limed and interred in an unmarked grave in unholy ground within the prison precincts – but John Carter is buried in his home churchyard on consecrated ground. When you read the message on his tomb you’ll see why.
CARTER TOMB_WORDS_CLONED
[Now weathered and worn – I’ve reconstructed the exact message on Carter’s headstone]
It was clear from this message, that this thirty year old married farm labourer with two young children was being used by the civic authorities of Lambourn as a deterrent to the increasing number of arson attacks throughout the country as discontent with rural poverty and unemployment continued to rise.
Senior Bow Street runners from London’s law enforcement division were finding themselves commandeered around many English counties, investigating a variety of arson attacks throughout the 1830’s.
carter_fire three
Indeed, in sentencing Carter to death, the judge claimed it was a long premeditated scheme on the part of Carter to throw the country into “a state of alarm and panic.”
In fact it was a curious moment because the local Berkshire Chronicle following the arson attack on Lambourn on November 19th 1832, later apologized to its readers for not being able to report on these fires “in the interests of justice.” It was rumoured that there were London strangers asking questions in the town about the labouring men working there. Local people were puzzled that a quiet and sober unemployed agricultural labourer such as John Carter was in any position to “throw the country into a state of alarm and panic.”

The destruction caused by fire can be devastating at any time but in a location of thatched cottages, stables, and wooden barns packed with straw, it is particularly disastrous.
On the evening of November 19th 1832, about 7.30 pm, two fires broke out at almost the same moment. One at the Red Lion Inn in the centre of Lambourn and the other at Mr. Spicer’s Malthouse Barn about 400 yards distant. The flames had shot up in an instant and, at the Red Lion, killed valuable horses and a sporting dog in the stable.carter_fire twoThere had been a coursing meeting that day and the animals’ owners were dining at the Inn. The other fire at Spicer’s barn near Crowel Corner, was about to reach the adjoining outhouse stacked up to fifteen feet high with straw. Several passers by alerted others, the church bells were rung, and everyone, including John Carter, rushed to fight the blaze that threatened to destroy everything. It was agreed by all that if the night had not been calm, damp and misty, the whole place would have been burnt down.

George Green, a local labourer who lived in a part of Lambourn known as ‘The City‘, had been passing Crowel Corner that evening and had seen John Carter reach his hand into the thatch of the outhouse and shamble away.
Thirty minutes later the blaze was visible.
Green challenged Carter and said to him “John this is a bad job” Carter said the fire shouldn’t have broken out for another two hours, at which Green replied, “For God’s sake John hold thy tongue.” Carter replied, ” So I will,” and they both joined in the battle to save Lambourn from certain destruction.

Another labouring acquaintance of Carter, Robert Chivers, was also fighting the fire – a fire he knew would happen!
Only hours before he had been given a cloth packet containing a crude incendiary device with an agreed plan that while Carter set fire to the Red Lion, and Mr. Spicer’s premises, Chivers would set a third fire going in Mr. Child’s pigeon house about 220 yards away. This would certainly have sealed Lambourn’s fate but a pang of conscience led Chivers to throw his device away.
CARTER_PEOPLE
John Carter                                                            Robert Chivers

Mr. Child, who lived in the Malthouse, paid Chivers and Carter and other labourers who assisted in fighting the fire that night for their hard work in saving Lambourn from destruction.
This was a strange irony because it was said that the firing was a plot to raise labourers’ wages. According to Chivers, Carter had said to him that he did not think there would be better times in Lambourn until there was a good fire.
Similar fires at Bedwyn in Wiltshire gave credence to the theories of plotting and there, once again, strangers appeared in the village. It turned out however, that the strangers were two very senior Bow Street runners, Ruthven and Stevens, working undercover to locate the arsonists. They were told to leave no stone unturned and in Lambourn it was said there was a man who made incendiary devices  for arsonists.  This was know in criminal circles as “making a match.”

It was the curiosity of Mrs. Pheobe Hall which provided the critical evidence when at about 8.45 am on the morning after the fire she saw something on the ground opposite Mr. Gearing’s brew house which she said “looked like a poultice off someone’s thumb.” She handed it to Mr. Spicer who took it to the Rev. Hippisley who handed it to Ruthven. It was the incendiary device Carter had given to Chivers who had discarded it without using it.
With the assistance of a Lambourn magistrate the Rev. Hippisley, Ruthven and Stevens successfully apprehended eight labourers in Lambourn and at least four in Wiltshire.
carter_arrest
Of the eight detained in Lambourn, three were taken to trial, and the others,temped by a reward or immunity against prosecution, gave evidence against them.
The indictment ran to ten counts and John Carter was charged with the plotting, planning and manufacture of incendiary devices and with committing arson.
Henry Rider and William Winkworth were indicted as accessories ‘before the crime was committed

Rider had apparently said to Carter that he’d give him a quart of beer for a good fire, while Winkworth was claimed to have commented that he would have set the Malthouse on fire if he lived as near to it as Carter did.
Chivers had become the main prosecution witness against Carter. There were no defence witnesses.

Rider and Winkworth were acquitted and Carter alone found guilty. Carter had hoped for a sentence of transportation, foolishly commenting that he was looking forward to a new life across the sea, but the judge had other ideas.
He was of the opinion that those acquitted were just as guilty and that they needed, “a lesson for the future”
That lesson was to be Carter’s execution.
Carter claimed that others – he wouldn’t name – had drawn him into this and that there was a Lambourn man – a mystery “match maker” – who was never identified.
Just as the trap-door opened and John Cater dropped to his death at the end of a rope at noon on March 16th on the roof of Reading goal, a mystery arsonist struck  – firing an extensive fir tree plantation at Mortimer village – eight miles south of the Reading scaffold where Carter was left hanging.

No-one was apprehended but I suspect they got the message – after all, it was carved in stone for all to see.

 

 

 

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The Devil’s Den, Marlborough, Wiltshire

The Devil’s Den, Marlborough, Wiltshire
April 13, 2014 by sunbright57

The Journal Of Antiquities

The Devil's Den, Wiltshire (Dixon-Scott) The Devil’s Den, Wiltshire (Dixon-Scott)

OS grid reference: SU 1521 6965. In a field on Fyfield Down 1 mile east of Marlborough, Wiltshire, stands the prehistoric burial chamber known as The Devil’s Den or Clatford Bottom Stone, a Neolithic monument from 5,000 years ago that is also known as a Dolmen (stone table). To reach the site head north on the footpath from the A4 (Bath Road) opposite Clatford village and near the “private” entrance to Manton House Estate, then after about 950 metres via west to the monument on Fyfield Hill which is in a little valley. They own much of the land on this side of the road, so keep to the footpath if possible. The town of Marlborough is 1 mile east on the A4, while Avebury is 2 miles to the west. Nearby, to the east stands an ancient mound which has given its name to the town of Marlborough. You may well come…

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The Force of Truth: Aston Sandford & The Spirit of Thomas Scott

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
original image by David Hawgood

South of Haddenham, in the Buckinghamshire village of Aston Sandford, lies the parish church of St. Michael and All Angels. Like most ancient churches in England, some aspects of the building, such as the nave, date from the twelfth century, while others, such as the chancel, are from a century later. The main church fabric was restored during Victorian times.

What makes this Buckinghamshire limestone church unique, however, is not only its size – it’s one of the smallest churches in the country – but  it also lays claim to being the smallest haunted church in England (I’m waiting for all the  other claims to pour in now I’ve said this).

SCOTT_RECTORYBuckinghamshire, Aston Sandford Rectory, 1836

The rectory is much more recent, built in the early nineteenth century by a remarkable person whose ghost is now said to continue to attend evensong, standing beside the pulpit.

The Revd Thomas Scott was a strong religious force to be reckoned with in eighteenth and nineteenth century Buckinghamshire and features alongside the ecclesiastical historical significance of the legendary John Newton and William Cowper of nearby Olney – particularly in terms of spiritual awakenings and fervent evangelical commitment.

Ordained in 1772, Thomas Scott was first a curate in the parish of Stoke Goldington and then in Weston Underwood, moving to Ravenstone where he began a correspondence with the ‘Amazing Grace‘ hymn writer John Newton.

Newton__SMALL

John Newton [1725-1807]

SCOTT-SMALL

Thomas Scott [1747-1821]

However, Scott envied the extraordinary preaching powers of Newton whose Olney church was constantly packed with villagers flooding in to hear his passionate sermons.
scott-rampant

According to ecclesiastical researcher, D.B. Hindmarsh;
“After months of anxiety over his ineffectual pastoral ministry, and remorse over the levity with which he entered holy orders, Thomas Scott shuts himself up in his study with his Bible, the works of Richard Hooker and other Anglican divines and by Christmas 1777 argues himself into evangelistic conviction.”  [1]

The result was a new passion for spirituality and a deeply felt autobiography called, ‘The Force of Truth: An Authentic Narrative‘  published in 1779 while he was curate of Ravenstone and Weston Underwood. In this book, he revealed himself as a man in an awful state of mind; a man who entered holy orders with little regard for them, actually calling himself “a dangerous heretic”.

In the book’s preface, he makes a very direct claim which I find very inspiring:

scott_preface

 

https://archive.org/stream/forcetruthanaut01scotgoog

He revealed his strong dislike for prayer on the one hand but his enjoyment of sin on the other along with his serious neglect of his parishioners. He tells us from the heart that the following admission affected him very much and provided a crucial  spiritual turning point;

scott_dying.jpg_1

scott couple

The neighbour who walked so far  to visit the couple and give them solace, comfort and his blessings was indeed Mr. Newton.

From this  experience emerged a newly committed, fervent preacher eventually able to take over from Newton in Olney and then spent time with him in London founding the Church Missionary Society. When he became Rector at Aston Sandford in 1803, Scott brought so much energy, commitment and deep evangelical passion to this small village and its tiny church, it seems it became almost impregnated with his presence and his determination never again to neglect his parishioners.

During the eighteen years he spent in this small Buckinghamshire village he became that church and when he died in 1821, he was buried beneath the alter.

Since that time he has been seen by a variety of parishioners at evensong dozens and dozens of times appearing as an apparition beside the pulpit. Witnesses I have spoken to confirm he remains visible for some minutes before gradually fading away, yet all have failed to capture his appearances on film.

Speaking a little while back with the Reverend David Horner  responsible for the Anglican parish of St. Peter and St. Paul in Ellesborough, Buckinghamshire – he has been witness to similar apparitions that occur at his church (I’ll save those for another blog) but from these experiences, he told me that it was his belief that passionate, powerful emotions, such as the burdensome guilt expressed by the Revd Thomas Scott, can create an imprint on the atmosphere around  key locations that perpetuates some form of supernatural imagery after death. [2]
Scott’s burial place beneath the alter no doubt has great significance and ‘The Force of Truth’ well and truly keeps his presence in this unique Buckinghamshire location.

In another publication Scott called: ‘Essays on the Most Important Subjects in Religion, (1809) he really makes clear why he might still be at one with his church and his parishioners
scott quote

Read at : https://archive.org/stream/essaysonmostimp01scotgoog

 

 Meanwhile, the Reverend Thomas Scott awaits your attendance at evensong

***************

Footnotes:

[1] Hindmarsh, D.B., ‘The Olney Autobiographers’, The Journal of Ecclesiastical History, CUP, 1998

[2] Kidd-Hewitt, D., Buckinghamshire Stories of the Supernatural, Countryside Books 2008.
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Wizard Palmer And The Hand of Glory

WIZARD_GLORY

Open lock
To the Dead Man’s knock!
Fly bolt, and bar, and band!—
Nor move, nor swerve,
Joint, muscle, or nerve,
At the spell of the Dead Man’s hand!
Sleep all who sleep! — Wake all who wake!—
But be as the Dead for the Dead Man’s sake.’

Magic – and the claim to practise it – is one of the most enduring of all mysteries. Does magic exist? Are there real witches and wizards, or are we taken in by myth, legend and scam? Enchantments, spells, potions, and talismen draw us into stories of the age-old battle between good and evil. Are they just tales, or do they contain some elements of truth? It seems that such confrontations really do happen, and in certain English counties and villages, we can find evidence.

This is the tale of the spell of the dead man’s hand associated with the English village of Winterbourne and a legendary Berkshire Wizard known as Wizard Palmer of Boxford during the early nineteenth century.

Our familiarity with fictional wizards such as J.K. Rowling’s boy wizard, Harry Potter, can blind us to the fact that wizards really did exist alongside the enduring cult of witchcraft and witches and many people today still claim such roles for themselves.
GLORY_WITCHES
Indeed, it wasn’t until 1951 that British laws against witchcraft were fully lifted, and, as late as 1944, there was a trial at the Old Bailey under the original Witchcraft Act of 1735, in which a Scottish woman – Helen Duncan – was convicted of being a witch – the last woman in England to be so labelled and prosecuted. She received nine months imprisonment in Holloway.

Helen Duncan HELEN DUNCAN

Wizards of past times were also referred to as cunning men, and under that name they would offer advice and guidance to those seeking remedies against misfortune and the unwanted attentions of the supernatural. The practice could involve both curing and cursing and was accepted by many village communities as traditional, rural, folk magic. also called cunning craft.

As a practising Berkshire wizard, John Palmer would be asked to exorcise or banish ghosts, and, as a cunning man, to supply the descriptions of thieves who had stolen villagers’ property. For a fairly hefty fee of around two shillings, the victim of a theft could obtain a consultation with Palmer in his cottage by the River Lambourn, and by cunning means Palmer would write down the necessary description of the thief or thieves for the victim to trace. If the property had been lost rather than stolen, he could advise the owner where they might find it again.
GLORY PALMER COTTAGE
Wizard Palmer’s cottage, Boxford, Berkshire.

By the late 1830’s Palmer had gained a reputation for solving mysteries in the English county of Berkshire. For example, he was purported to have banished a shadowy, animal-like figure that haunted a derelict cottage by Wickham church, terrorizing the villagers. Legend has it that he ordered heavy chains  from nearby Newbury, chained-up the cottage, and contained the spirit within.

By cunning, it is said, he traced a person responsible for the mysterious severing of barge ropes along the Thames at Reading in 1841. He is also recorded as upsetting many people in Welford when he cast a spell to silence the church bells because they got on his nerves and found himself evicted from his cottage by the squire for doing so – brave squire!

However, Palmer is best remembered for his role in successfully breaking the spell of the dead man’s hand. This happened in the Berkshire village of Winterbourne and involved  a gruesome device of the ‘dark arts’ known as A Hand of Glory.

Firstly we need to know how such a device as the hand of glory was actually created and all the magical powers it claimed to provide  [1].
Many claims to mysterious powers are associated with the scaffold and its grim product the dead body of a recently hanged or beheaded criminal. Such a body – or perhaps its fresh blood – was said to have mystical properties, and all over the world examples can be found that testify to this belief.
In many English counties, parents would attempt to take children onto the scaffold to have the hand of the corpse, (damp with ‘death sweat‘) rubbed against their skin as a cure for scrofulous diseases.
Women would do the same in an attempt to remove unsightly wens, cysts or warts. Fresh blood from such a corpse was greatly prized in Germany, for example, where executioners in the 19th century made money by selling blood-sodden handkerchiefs and in France, a miracle ointment was made from the fat of the executed.

In many cultures, including the U.K, keeping the fingers and thumbs of thieves as a talisman was believed to improve trade for a shopkeeper. Keeping a small bone in a purse was thought to stop it ever being empty. Even the rope that had choked the life  from the criminal was claimed to have magical properties and would often be sold by the inch after an execution.
GLORY HANGING_RESIZE
However, these nineteenth century customs and many more besides. pale into insignificance when compared to the hand of glory. For such a device you needed to cut the hand from a freshly executed corpse, usually the ‘sinister hand’ which is the left-hand. More valued was a male hand (left or right) which was cut off at the wrist during an eclipse of the moon – but this was a rare and valuable commodity indeed.

It then had to be wrapped in fabric taken from the corpse’s shroud – a mort cloth – and squeezed hard to remove all of the blood and other bodily fluids. Once expunged it was placed in an earthenware jar with powered zimort (cinnamon), saltpetre, salt and special long peppers – all powered and dusted over the hand. After leaving it to marinate for at least fifteen days, it had to be allowed to dry in August sunshine, or possibly – if you were a wizard like Palmer or indeed a witch – you could dry it without it burning by using a cauldron  with flaming vervain and ferns [2]
GLORY WITCH_1To make it work for you, you then needed some fat – ideally from another executed felon or, if not possible, when you remove the hand, cut out the stomach lining of the corpse you obtained the hand from, i.e. human tripe as well as some of his hair mixed with ‘ponie’ (dung), sesame and virgin wax. From this you forged a candle with hair as a wick.

The most wicked and abhorrent recorded cases of such hand of glory candle-making, used the finger of an unborn child, cut from the mother’s womb. Using the hand of glory as a candle holder with the candle or finger wedged firmly and heat-welded between the stiff, lifeless grey fingers, you were now in a position to enter a house by the glory’s candlelight.

This candlelight was only for you as the protected holder of the talismen – lighting your way whilst at the same time casting a spell of deep slumber over the inhabitants. If anyone was still awake they would remain motionless, in a trance until you were gone – they became totally blind to their surroundings and more importantly to you as the hand of glory candle-bearer. You were then able to remove all the possessions you wished without being disturbed. Some robbers preferred to wax the fingers and the thumb of the hand itself and set all of them alight. If the thumb refused to light, it was a warning that someone was not asleep or had not yet fallen under its power after you had recited the entry spell.
GLORY_ROBBER_CLONE

‘Open lock
To the Dead Man’s knock!
Fly bolt, and bar, and band!—
Nor move, nor swerve,
Joint, muscle, or nerve,
At the spell of the Dead Man’s hand!
Sleep all who sleep! — Wake all who wake!—
But be as the Dead for the Dead Man’s sake.’

You would need to add:

Hand of Glory shining bright lead us to our spot tonight,
Bind all in sleep those now asleep. Bind awake those now awake.’

For a gang of thieves – the leader holding the glory might use another version of the spell:

‘O Hand of Glory shed thy light;
Direct us to our spoil tonight.
Flash out thy blaze, O skeleton hand,
And guide the feet of our trusty band.’

Cottage and farmhouse burglaries were a common occurrence across England as various rogues and vagabonds made their way from village to village, intent on stealing valuables in the dead of night. A series of such burglaries in the Winterbourne area lead the villagers to suspect the use of a hand of glory. Too many groggy villagers that had not been drinking cider and wine to feel that way, were being robbed. Not one of them heard, saw or suspected robbery – yet their valuables had disappeared – some not even known about until they went to check on their secret hiding places.

Wizard Palmer was consulted and he was able to offer some remedies to those wishing to protect themselves from robbery by a hand of glory thief. He told them to smear their thresholds with ointments made from the blood of screech owls or the fat of white hens. These were ‘warning’ ointments said to counteract the spell that rendered people motionless, but the only sure way was to ambush the robbers and extinguish the flame of the hand of glory with a bucket of ‘blue’. Nowadays, we call this skimmed milk!

This was the only substance capable of putting out its gruesome light and rendering the hand of glory useless until a new candle was inserted and lit. But Palmer needed information about when a robbery using such a device of the ‘dark arts’ was to take place. His skills of cunning were supplemented by the less mysterious technique of employing informers to lurk about spying on others and ‘eaves-dropping’.
GLORY-EAVESDROPPING.jpg

This in itself was a tricky and risky business because during the 1840’s, lurking outside other people’s houses and cottages in order to overhear conversations by windows, walls and eaves was a criminal offence and you could be imprisoned for eavesdropping, and possibly ‘burnt in the hand’ with a white-hot poker so others would know – when you were released from goal – not to trust you.

Palmer, nevertheless, had his eavesdroppers and information reached him about “..some family men who had been marking a crib in the wild, which they were about to prig with a glory.” Palmer’s knowledge of this language used by criminals known as flash or can language, told him that a gang of thieves (family men) had been watching (marking) a house (crib) in the village (wild) which they were about to rob (prig) with a hand of glory (a glory).
See my blogs: https://wp.me/p8yqmi-1C
https://wp.me/p8yqmi-1iP

More work by his informants identified a farm just on the outskirts of Winterbourne near Westbrook.
GLORY FARM_SKETCHPalmer recruited a local village lad called Will Chamberlain who he judged could resist the power of a hand of glory long enough to defeat it. Some say he put a spell on the boy to make him immune.
glory-cottagePalmer and the boy hid in the farmhouse kitchen while the occupants feigned sleep. Will secreted himself by the kitchen door, a bucket of blue by his side, while Palmer crouched further back to get a clear view of the approaching intruders and to judge the correct moment to break the spell of the dead man’s hand.

As the night deepened, they heard approaching footsteps and a soft glow appeared at the farmhouse door, which swung open to the chant

‘Hand of Glory shining bright lead us to our spot tonight,
Bind all in sleep those now asleep. Bind awake those now awake.’
GLORY ROBBERS_3

At Palmer’s precise command and just as the farmhouse threshold had been breached by two intruders, one of them holding their precious hand of glory in front of him, Will Chamberlain sprang forward and emptied the bucket of blue directly over the ‘glory.’ It fell to the floor, its thieving light extinguished and the two robbers, one also armed with a pistol, fled into the night.

It was all over in seconds – Palmer recognized the intruders who fled and would deal with them at first light with the watchmen, Meanwhile he took charge of the glory, and a much enhanced reputation as the Wizard of Boxford who rescued a village from total plunder. His fee was pretty much enhanced as well.

When J.K. Rowling wrote about her wizard hero, Harry Potter, accidently materializing in Borgin & Burkes, a shop specializing in the dark arts in Knockturn Alley, he saw a long coil of hangman’s rope, a staring glass eye, human bones, some evil-looking masks, a rusty spiked instruments and ‘a withered hand on a cushion.’ A hand of glory, no less. [3]

As I gaze at a real, grisly, withered and wrinkled, dirty-grey hand of glory preserved for all to see in Yorkshire’s Whitby Museum, I wonder if this could possibly have seen criminal service in a certain Berkshire village and encounted a real wizard, Wizard Palmer.GLORY_WHITBY
www.badobadop.co.uk

No one knows what happened to Wizard Palmer; he disappeared some time in the 1850’s, although not totally without trace. There is a tale about an old wooden post at Welford that was known locally as Palmer’s Post.

Legend has it that he had driven out an evil spirit from a local farmer’s son and nailed it to this post with a spell. Fanciful perhaps but very soon after the M4 motorway was opened in the 1970’s, stories began to surface about mishaps, silly accidents, cracks in a bridge, police cars and an ambulance suffering complete electrical failures. It was only later that it was spotted that all these events had occurred around the original location of Palmer’s Post, long since felled and its foundations buried under motorway concrete.

Old wizards are not that easily dismissed.

****

1] For a detailed account of how to make a Hand of Glory, see, Kidd-Hewitt, D., The Cato Conundrum, Publish Nation, 2016: [Amazon e-book £2.99] Paperback available (389 pages)GLORY_SPELLS_2

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 [2] Kidd-Hewitt, D., ibid pp. 18-20; 192-4;  247-5

[3] Rowling, J.K. Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets, Bloomsbury Press, London, 1998, (see pp 43/4)

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Accidental Thoughts

On a nice cold morning ...It’s early.

Dawn has just broken and I am sipping hot tea and gazing at the wonders  of an icy morning from the warmth of my study.

Not that long ago I would be steeling myself for a daily motorcycle trip into London from this relaxing village idyll and forced to endure such inhospitable conditions.

Wrapped and cocooned like Wells’s invisible man and venturing out to the bitter cold of a frosty January morning now seems as if it happened to someone else.

The searing cold of a winter motorcycle ride cannot be described. You have to experience it.

Such dressing-gown, tea-sipping thoughts lead to one particular January morning around twenty years ago this very day.

Whatever the weather, the early stages of the ride to work took me through villages I never tired of seeing before the inevitably clogged arteries into London came into view and concentrated traffic weaving manoeuvres took over any thoughts of viewing the passing scenery.

I had always enjoyed circling around the village pond at Holmer Green, acknowledging the handful of stalwart bus travellers waiting at the bus shelter opposite.

This particular day I must have leant a little too far over as I approached the pond. Anyway, I hit black ice and then began the most extraordinary feeling.

I had this heavy motor bike lying on top of me, one leg trapped underneath, yet there was no weight. I remember sliding effortlessly towards the frozen pond as if showing off a new trick to my morning audience at the bus stop. It had a strange exhilaration to it.

I did not feel injured and just waited for it to end.

I had no means of controlling my trajectory.

End it did, balanced on the edge of the pond, cracking the icy rim so water began to creep across and leak into my trapped left boot.

Hands reached down and around, pulling and heaving and I was soon upright, safe and gazing gratefully at my bus stop regulars turned rescuers.

At that very moment, all turned on hearing the approaching bus. The engine gave an uncharacteristic roar, then went eerily silent, then came the crash.

It skidded on the same black ice that had welcomed me but instead of heading for the village pond the single-decker smashed into the modest wooden bus shelter, splitting it into matchwood. “My God,” someone cried, “we would have been killed.”

Horrified nods and murmurs of agreement all round.

“You saved our lives,” said a lady and hugged me, before they all went over to assist with the new accident.

I did not set out that day to save lives.

I did not engineer such an icy trick, but still cannot shake away the thought – was it meant to happen?

The phone’s ringing.

Damn, it’s startled me back to the here and now.

Before I pick it up to begin this new day of writing, I gazed up at the wintry sky.

It seemed the right thing to do.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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A Deadly Remedy: The Case of James ‘Cow- Leecher’ Inglett.

James_old man_1

Welcome to a happy New Year, 1841 which proved to be anything but happy for a certain James Inglett and the Harlett family who lived in the village of Houghton, near Huntingdon. This is one of those rare cases where all involved wanted nothing more than to assist each other, yet their plans went badly wrong.

Here’s a picture of Houghton as recent as 2007, and you can clearly see its picturesque rural heritage.(1)

JAMES_HOUGHTON

Houghton On The Hill by Mat Fascione, 3rd June, 2007

First, we need to meet ninety-four year old James Inglett, a veteran farmer whose claim to fame in the local area was not only his longevity, but his talent for inventing and concocting medicinal curatives for sick cattle, as well as having a reputation for healing people when the local apothecary failed.

One of the skills that such a rural community needed was that of a practicing ‘cow-leecher.’ This was a skilled science, but was also a very personal brand of work because it involved creative recipes for cattle medicines of an experimental and ancient pedigree. There were those practicing this art who caused more harm than good but once established as a savior to sick cows, your reputation was sown and James ‘Cow-Leecher’ Inglett had such a reputation in the Huntingdon area. Other’s did not for example:

JAMES_POISON CATTLE_word

The Times (London) Monday April 5th, 1819, p.3

Other cases exist where a so-called cow-leecher ends up killing the cattle – the farmer is assured it is safe to sell to the local butcher who then discovers he’s poisoned his customers, some dying as a result. Indeed, our year of 1841, saw a very distressing example:

JAMES_POISON_CATTLE_2

The Times (London) Friday September 17th 1841 p.3 

So given Inglett’s long, unblemished career as both cattle farmer and cattle doctor, he was well thought of in the village of Houghton. Indeed, there were rumours that so skilled was he in this art, that he owed his own remarkable age to a secret remedy and others would add, with a whisper, that he had discovered the holy grail of alchemy.

James_old man_2
It seemed natural therefore, when the local apothecary had failed to assist a local villager, thirty-year old Elizabeth Harlett, with her excessive stomach pains and vomiting illness, James Inglett might assist in finding a cure. He called to see her at Christmas time 1840, bringing with him a special medicine which he had used successfully within his own family over the years.
JAMES_MEDICINE

However, the medicine James left her made Elizabeth very sick indeed, but she persevered assisted by her younger sister’s careful nursing and gradually she started to get better. Her sister described her as “quite purely.”

james_sick woman

On the morning of January 11th 1841. James Inglett called to check on her condition and left some more medicine for her. That night Elizabeth became very ill again after taking the medicine and Elizabeth’s older sister spent the night comforting her, but she was in great pain.
james_sick woman_1

Early on Wednesday morning, January the 13th, having taken some opium pills, Elizabeth fell into a quiet doze but she never woke up and this was seen by her family as a natural release from her long sufferings.

Ten days after her burial, village rumours were very strong that she had been poisoned and the local coroner agreed her body should be exhumed. Two surgeons examined the disinterred body and found it to be in a generally healthy state, the organs sound and free from disease. However, her stomach and bowels were seriously inflamed and the jury, at the hearing, decided she had, in fact, died from the incautious and improper administering by James Inglett  of “…a certain noxious, inflammatory and dangerous thing to the jurors unknown.”

The ‘thing to the jurors unknown’ was discovered to be arsenic and left the medical men with no doubt that Elizabeth Harlett had taken this highly poisonous substance just prior to death. They decided that all the signs of her illness pointed to arsenic poisoning. It was also the case that James Inglett had been very honest and open about the fact he called at the house and left his medicine for her which did contain arsenic.

Elizabeth’s older sister did confront James with the accusation that it was “his stuff” that killed Elizabeth. His reply had been that it could not be the case, for he had only given her half a grain, whereas he had given his son and others a grain and more without any harm. Elizabeth’s sister replied that it must have been too much for her stomach.

James Inglett’s reply was ambiguous, “Like enough, poor thing, for her stomach was almost gone.”

On the day of Elizabeth’s funeral, he was distraught and said to the family, “I would not for twenty-shillings have given her anything if I had known it, for I would rather have done her good than harm.”

james_Times_charge

At his trial in March, the family spoke highly of his attention and honesty and his very genuine attempts to cure Elizabeth and could not support any accusation that he deliberately harmed her.
james_judge
The judge reminded the jury that they had several important questions to answer;
(1) Had the deceased died from the administering and taking of arsenic? – Clearly the answer was yes.
(2) Was it the prisoner – James Inglett – that administered it? – Again, the answer was yes, it was James Inglett.
(3) In administering it – did James Inglett act with due degree of care and caution or did he act with rashness and negligence? – This is where the jury had a struggle with their decision.

They returned a verdict of “Guilty of administering arsenic incautiously.

The judge said he could not accept that as representing a legal verdict. They must acquit the prisoner unless they are satisfied that he acted not incautiously merely, but with gross rashness and want of caution.

The jury then returned a verdict of “GUILTY.”

The Judge admonished Inglett for dealing with such a dangerous drug without caution nor care but considered that it would be what he termed “A useless cruelty” at his time of life to be given the severe penalty that a felonious killed and slaying would normally invite. As he had already been in prison for six weeks he would be sentenced to a further two weeks and then released. The Times ended their report in a very magnanimous way as follows:

JAMES_TIMES_END

The Times (London) March 23rd 1841, p.5

I have not been able to find out what happened to James Inglett after his sentence had been served. I wonder if he made it to one hundred years old! Was he perhaps an alchemist after all?  If you do find anything out – please let me know.

_______

(1) http://www.visionofbritain.org.uk/place/7217

(2)  John C. Knowlson The complete cow-leech, or cattle doctor: Volume 8 January 1,            1820

 

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