Haunted Trees

I took these photographs of a weird looking tree stump when out walking in woodlands last autumn. Not only did its strange configurations remind of the mask worn by the various killers in the scream movies, but it also reminded me of the once common superstition that certain tress had an attraction for evil spirits.

A letter dated 7th July 1606, gives an account of one such haunted tree at Brampton, near Gainsborough. The letter states:

"An ash-tree shaketh in body and boughs thereof, sighing and groaning like a man troubled in his sleep, as if it felt some sensible torment. Many have climbed to the top of it, who heard the groans more easily than they could below."

At length the Earl of Lincoln had one of the arms of the ash lopped off and a hole bored through the trunk. This caused the hollow voice from within to be heard more audibly than before, but in a kind of speech that nobody could understand.

The Suicide Tree

In Fishtoft near Boston, an ancient Hawthorn tree, once stood at a road junction leading to Tower Lane and Fishtoft church. Once a local land mark, the tree is mentioned in the Fishtoft Acre Books for 1662, 1733 , and 1733, and it was once shown on a map of the area. Those travelling the low road to Frieston in years gone by Knew the tree well, but sadly much of the folklore attached it is now lost to antiquity. However, in "The History and Antiquities of Boston" (1856) author Pishey Thompson claimed that the tree grew from the stake driven into the grave of a suicide buried at the crossroads, a memorial that was common centuries ago.

Thompson says: '' We have heard of the name of the particular female said to have been ignominiously interred here and many particulars respecting her, more than a century ago; but do not recollect them."

Charms and Superstitions

The photo opposite is of a mummified cat which I keep at home on a table in a glass case. Now before you think me more than a little weird to own such a grisly item and display it in my home then allow me to explain. Prior to the late 18th century, it was common practice particularly in rural communities, to conceal lucky charms in newly constructed houses. When over the years many of these building were demolished or modernised, it was not unusual to find leather shoes, pins, and old fashioned tobacco- pipe heads, hidden in chimney stacks and wall cavities, put there for the purpose of protecting the house and its occupant from all manor of evil spirits. A more familiar version of this superstition is the nailing of horseshoes on the inside and outside of houses, as it was believed that the Devil would be repelled by the touch of cold iron.

Perhaps the most grotesque of these lucky charms are the great many mummified cats found immured in walls or attic spaces of many old houses throughout Britain. Folklorist suggest they were put there in the belief that the spirit of the dead animal would protect the house from vermin and possibly witchcraft.

The mummified cat in my possession was found in a wall above the fire place of a mid 18th century mud and stud cottage (walls made from mud and straw) during extensive renovations of the property in 1992. The cottage presently the family home is situated in a small village in the Lincolnshire wolds. Similarly there are cases on record of dogs who have died and then been buried within the house in the belief that their canine spirits would protect the occupants from evil spirits seeking to enter the building at night.

Both of these bizarre customs may possibly stem from the "Church Grim", the ancient practice of sacrificing an animal on the foundations of a new church so that its spirit would defend the building from devils and evil spirits: a pagan practice that lasted well into the Christian era.

There are to date over a hundred mummified cats on record, but the one in my possession, as far as I am aware is the only example in Lincolnshire. However, if any one knows of any others then I would be interested to know.

Dog or Demon?

Ghostly black dogs feature prominently in the folklore of Lincolnshire. There are over 75 Black Dog haunting`s recorded from the county, more than two thirds of them documented by the folklorist Ethel Rudkin in her 1938 paper on the subject. In parts of East Anglia black dogs are associated with disaster and death, but in Lincolnshire they are considered to be harmless even friendly creatures which warn against imminent danger, or guard lone travellers on bleak stretches of road. I myself once saw a Black Dog, but that as they say is another story. The one I am about to tell was told to me some years ago by an old man who claimed to have known the farm worker it concerned, but friendly would most certainly not have been the adjective used to describe the phantom hound he encountered.

The man was ploughing fields somewhere on the outskirts of the village of Hemswell (an area well known for its black dog haunting`s) when he uncovered the bones of a large animal. At first he thought it was merely the remains of a calf or a donkey, but on closer inspection he found that the creature`s skull had vicious looking canine teeth. Knowing his friends down at his local pub would be intrigued by his grisly find, he put the skull into a sack, threw it over his shoulder and set off for home. The swift darkness of a cold winter`s evening descended as he tramped along the lonely winding lane leading to his isolated cottage, but on reaching the halfway point of his journey, a gradual feeling of unease began to creep over him. Continually he found himself stopping and looking over his shoulder, but all he saw was the dark empty road flanked both sides by hedges and the twisted bare branches of tall trees. Just as he had convinced himself that his imagination was playing tricks, he heard the lumbering foot-falls and panting of some large animal fast approaching. Turning once again he saw bounding towards him the most enormous dog he had ever seen. Its coat was shaggy and black, its slavering mouth curled into a grin to reveal its lethal looking canine teeth and its baleful saucer eyes seemed to be lit from within the sockets like two red burning coals. With a scream of horror the man turned and ran, the ground shook as the dreadful creature gave chase and as it drew ever nearer, he could feel its hot acrid breath on the back of his neck. Knowing the thing would soon be upon him, he turned brandishing the only weapon he possessed. Holding the sack aloft, he brought it crashing down on to the head of the charging monster. The bag tore open shattering the skull into a thousand pieces, with that the hell hound gave an unearthly howl and vanished in a flash of green fire.

Not surprisingly the man became a laughing stock when he told of his terrifying encounter. However, his friends could not laugh off so easy the sudden change in his disposition. The farmer once noted for his easy going and gregarious nature became morose and reclusive. His nerves too had greatly suffered, the rumble of an approaching thunder storm had him visibly shaking and running for home. And the sight of a farm dog strolling the lanes on a winters afternoon has cost him more than one nights sleep.

The Headless Horseman

In the eastern area of the Linconshire Wolds is an old track that runs from the hamlets of Scamblesby to Farforth and Ruckland, along which the terrifying apparition of a headless horseman is reputed to gallop. Some years ago when I was researching the folklore of this picturesque part of the county I was told the origin of the phantom by a couple who had lived in the district for many years. The story is as follows. One morning some two hundred years ago a crowd assembled on Gallows Hill to watch the execution of a highwayman who had terrorised the district for some months. As the condemned man was taken by horse and cart to a makeshift gallows, an ominous rumble of thunder portended a mighty storm. As the hangman moved to place a noose around his neck, the first flash of lightning was succeeded instantly by a thunder clap so loud it took the entire assembly by surprise. All that is except the highway man who sized his chance. He slipped his bonds and leaped from the cart onto the back of a snowy white horse mounted by an officer of the law, who was easily dislodged. The highway man dug his heels into the flanks of the startled animal which flew at a gallop through the protesting crowd. But as he urged his mount onwards with greater speed, a solider drew his sword and aimed a glancing blow at the rider which cut his head clean from his body. The head rolled down the sloping road and landed with a splash in the waters of the ford below. The horse its whiteness now speckled with the riders dabbled blood, continued hell for leather, its grisly decapitated mount still in place feet in stirrups and hands clutching the reins. According to local legend on June 11th each year phantom horse and headless rider are still attempting the journey to this day.