FOLKLORE ON FRIDAY - The Ghost by the Gretna Green

Some time ago I wrote a series of articles (which I later turned in to a podcast) on the assorted ghost stories associated with Aycliffe Village in County Durham where I spend a good portion of my childhood. One of these local ghosts was an example of a very common sort of spectre, the Phantom Hitcher. In the Aycliffe version, a young woman dressed in white is seen by the side of the road and hitches a ride, only to later vanish from the back of the vehicle. 

Now the interesting thing I uncovered was that while the version I heard in the mid 1970s usually placed the lady in white near the village church and travelling in the direction of Darlington, the story actually dated back to the days of coaches and horses. Back then the A167 which runs through the village was the old Great North Road, and in the days when the coaches ran, the ghostly lady would hitching a ride north and vanish before reaching the nearby village of Rushyford a few miles up the road.

The village is also home to another well-known phantom, the Grey Lady. And over the years, aside from the oft-repeated creepy tales told about both these local ghosts, sightings of a white female figure have been reported in the Aycliffe village area. And recently a reader got in touch to relate his sighting of this strange white figure. It was seen a little to the north of the village, near what was once the Gretna Green pub, and is now back in business as the Gretna Hotel. His account is as follows - 

I was with my friend Chris at the time, and both of us were about 9 year old. Both of us were living near to Neville Parade in Newton Aycliffe. Strangely we were out 'ghost hunting' and rode our bikes over to the Gretna pub which was derelict at the time. We spent a bit of time looking around before heading back over the road (A167). There is a path leading through a small field and then some woods back to the houses. Halfway up this path we stopped to look at a rag which was caught on some barbed wire on the fence that ran along the path (still in ghost hunting mode). After a few seconds I looked ahead into the field and saw a white figure kind of floating towards us. I shouted at Chris to look but he took this as an attempt to trick him or something and promptly rode off on his bike, so I don't think he saw it which was very frustrating at the time! I remember looking up again at this thing and it was a bit closer. I pretty much got straight on my bike and rode off as fast as I could.

So the thing is basically similar to what the other people have described. It was about 30 years ago so my memory is a bit blurry but I remember it being all white, wearing flowing, kind of raggy clothes but no distinctive marks. And the main thing was it had a white face with no facial features at all, which was really weird. Could a veil possibly explain this? It was kind of moving its arms slowly, and moving slowly towards me with very awkward movements from what I remember. Just really weird. It wasn't too far away either, maybe 30/40 feet away. Oddly, at the time I didn't think it was a ghost because it didn't strike me as what a ghost should look like. It didn't look very human, but rather humanoid - if that makes any sense - mainly due to having no distinctive features and the white face area. So I just told people I saw a kind of weird creature/alien/ghost thing.

Now people have obviously said I was 'ghost hunting' so my childish active imagination got the better of me. and I too have thought this could be what happened. That is, until recently listening to you podcast and reading the comments about other people's similar experiences in that specific area. So maybe I did really see something after all? I wonder now that maybe because I was ghost hunting I was more perceptive than I usually would have been. But maybe it was coincidence. I've had a lot of weird stuff happen to me over the years so maybe I'm just more tuned in to these things than some other people. Maybe this thing appeared to me because I was kind of asking for it and it somehow knew. And I just happened to be in a spot where something was hanging around and was able to pick up on that? Or maybe something there is causing people to hallucinate? Or maybe someone dressing up to scare people? Who knows! But at least now know I'm not the only one who's seen weird stuff there!

Very intriguing, I am sure you will agree. Now what struck me as particularly interesting is the detail that the figure lacked a face, for this would appear to be a common feature in most of the reports of the white ghost. Andrew Green in Ghosts of Today lists several encounters with a seemingly female figure dressed in a long garment and a hood but with no face visible within, and often described as moving oddly or even floating. It would seem a similar figure has been seen in the south end of the village near the church, in the surrounding fields, on the road heading north of the village, and even a good way up The Great North Road.

For those who may wish to investigate further, we should note that the area described in the above account has now been built on, and where there was once a field where a young boy saw a strange figure in white are streets of houses. One wonders if any of these residences have reports of unwelcome guests in white...

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FOLKLORE ON FRIDAY - Dying for a Sit Down

Last week we learnt the strange tale of the cursed bottles in a pub in Alnwick, however they are not the only seemingly innocent but actually very sinister items to be found lurking in a British bar-room. Take for example the Busby Stoop Inn  in North Yorkshire, a pub whose very name is steeped in death!

In 1702, Thomas Busby murdered his father-in-law Daniel Auty. However this was no ordinary family squabble, for Busby and Auty ran a small criminal empire between them, whose main operation was coining - that is the forging of currency. They were based in the small North Yorkshire village of Kirby Wiske, and it said they had disagreed over Busby's relationship with Auty's daughter. He was arrested, tried and condemned to death by hanging. After his execution his corpse was suspended in chains from a gibbet erected at the lonely crossroads at the Sandhutton crossroads. This notorious criminal and his execution were long remembered. In 1859, the English antiquarian and poet, Yorkshire historian, William Grainge wrote:

The bones of the poor wretch who had committed murder were hung to fester in the sunshine and blow in the tempest until they fell piecemeal to earth and tradition yet tells tales of night wanderers being terrified when passing this dreaded spot.

Now by the crossroads, which now forms a junction of the A61 and A167, was an inn. According to one version of the legend, it was here that Busby was arrested, while another variant proposed that he was taken into the inn for a final drink before his execution. It has long been said that Busby's ghost haunts the place. However there is a more famous, and more sinister, legend. For it is said that Busby had sat in a particular chair in that inn and consequently a terrible curse was laid upon it. In the version where Busby was allowed a final tipple, legend claims he proclaimed "May sudden death come to anyone who dare sit in my chair". And indeed it is said that anyone who sits in this particular chair will suffer the same fate as Busby i.e. a sudden and untimely death shortly afterwards. The legend of the death chair became so famous that the pub eventually took the name The Busby Stoop Inn - a stoop being the post the gibbet hung from.

And indeed the chair appears to have been rather lethal. For there are many tales told about those who have dared to sit in the chair and paid a terrible price. In 1894, a chimney sweep who sat in the chair was said to have been found the following morning hanging beside Busby's gibbet post. During the Second World War, it was claimed that Canadian men from the nearby Skipton-on-Swale dared each other to sit on the chair, and those that did never returned from the missions they were sent on. 

In 1967, two Royal Air Force pilots sat in the chair, and then when driving home from the pub, crashed into a tree and were killed. A handful of years later, a builder was dared to to sit in the infamous chair, and just hours later, he fell to his death from a roof. Around the same time it is claimed that a cleaner had accidentally sat down upon the cursed chair after stumbling into it while mopping the floor. This time death came in the form of a brain tumour.

Eventually in 1978, the current landlord Tony Earnshaw decided enough was enough and moved the chair out of the public's way and placed it in the cellar. However a delivery man was curious as to why a chair was among the beer barrels and sat in it. He was killed minutes later in a crash a few miles down the road. And so the chair was donated to the Thirsk Museum where it remains to this very day. But the chair is now suspended from the ceiling to prevent any more incautious folks from trying to sit in it. 

However experts have cast doubt on the legend of the chair, for when it was examined by historian Dr Adam Bowett, he found something peculiar about it. Apparently its spindles were machine-turned, whereas in the 17th century, chair spindles were made usually with a pole lathe. Therefore he concluded the chair was probably made after 1840, at least 138 years after Busby's death. However as the stories related above all come from after 1840, while we could discount a link to Thomas Busby, we perhaps should not be so quick to discount the curse. Certainly no one has proposed taking the chair gone again so folks can sit in it again. Perhaps it is best to err on the side of caution...

FOLKLORE ON FRIDAY - Dying for a Drink

For centuries the local pub has played an important part in British society. Much like churches, pubs have long been important social hubs in communities, and so it is not surprising that the traditional British boozer frequently serves up a generous helping of local folklore alongside the usual fine ales and good food. Most old pubs worth their salt can boast of having served some famous (or infamous) patron at some point, have at least one ghost, and even their names may tie into local legend and history. Obviously much of this lore is the kind of tale that can be enjoyed over a pint and a packet for crisps, but there are some very dark and curious tales lurking behind the bar room banter. 

Take for example an ancient watering hole in the North of England. The Northumbrian market town of Alnwick is steeped in history, and its castle has appeared in many films and TV shows. However on Narrowgate, not far from Alnwick Castle, there is an old pub which is believed to date back to the 1600s at least. For most of its life this bar was known as Ye Olde Cross Pub. Historians believe its name comes from an actual cross on the front wall of this old inn, thought to be a cross of the de Vescis, the former Norman Lords of Alnwick, and was probably looted from the castle at some point. 

However what the pub is famous for is the weird display in one of its windows - a quartet of ancient and filthy bottles. Ye Olde Cross actually closed down in the 2000s but when it reopened in late 2014, the pub was renamed after its long-standing local nickname - The Dirty Bottles. And naturally there is a strange tale behind this most odd window dressing. Over 200 years ago, in 1725, the  innkeeper dropped dead of a heart attack after moving the bottles. According to the old tale, his wife proclaimed that anyone else doing so would likewise die. And so the bottles lay touched for years, gathering dust and cobwebs. 

At some point, the bottles were safely sealed away behind another interior window, but whether this was for historical purposes or to just to keep patrons with wandering hands safe from the curse I do not know. However it should come as no surprise that this old pub also boasts of having a ghost as well as a death curse. For allegedly the ghost of  the unlucky landlord is reputed to still haunt the pub, reportedly rattling glasses and swearing at patrons. Whether this is true or not I cannot say, but comedy tradition demands I point out that while you might not see a ghost there, there is a fine selection of spirits... 

And if you fancy popping in for a pint or a bite, their website is here The Dirty Bottles 

FOLKLORE ON FRIDAY - Midsummer Magic

Midsummer’s Day, also known as St John’s Day, is the summer solstice, the longest day of the year, and I’m sure I don’t need to remind you how this was an important day for our pagan ancestors. For example, every year we are treated to footage of assorted folks gathering at Stonehenge, so much so that that now it is part of pop culture to know than that Midsummer is a sacred day for both druids and hippies. 

However flippancy aside, as the longest day of the year, the summer solstice has been recognised and marked by a host of different cultures over the centuries. As it stands, we are not actually particularly sure what significance Midsummer had for our own pagan ancestors and the  whole business at with druids at Stonehenge and other standing stones is very much speculation constructed from what little we actually know of ancient British and Celtic cultures. However as the longest day and indeed its opposite number the winter solstice (the shortest day) are reliable markers for organising your calendar, there is no doubt it would have been significant. 

And thanks to this practical usefulness to agriculture in particular - after all it is very important to know what to be planting what -  Midsummer remained a key date in the folkloric calendar long after paganism gave way to Christianity in these isles, and hence there are many festivals and traditions associated with it. In addition however, the night before the longest day, Midsummer’s Eve was widely reported to be a significant night for all manner of folk charms and rites. Generally it was thought that it was a time when the veil between worlds grows thin and hence it was an auspicious night for magic of all kinds.

A common example of this is the assortment of love charms to practised upon Midsummer’s Eve -  there are various little rites, such as casting rose petals into water or placing special plants and herbs, such as St John’s Wort, under your pillow, which it is claimed will result in visions which reveal your future true love. Interestingly, similar folk rituals for divining your future true love are connected with several other days in the calendar. For example, while we think of Halloween as the spookiest night of the year, it was traditionally actually a night for carrying out such love charms. Midsummer is also one of the nights of the year in which church porching was conducted. This was a similar simple divinatory practice, but one with a darker purpose. For it was said that if one held a vigil at the local parish church door, or in some version at the lich gate, one would see the souls of all those who were due to die parade into the darkened church. However like the love charms, church porching was also conducted on various special nights of the year such as Christmas, Halloween and assorted Saint's days. It seems that in ages past, any significant day in the calendar was held to be a good time for attempting to divine the future. 

But there is lore that more specifically relates to Midsummer. A favourite of mine is the old folklore that claims that ferns only bloom on Midsummer’s Eve. According to these old legends, the fern produces a blue flower at the moment when the sun has finally set, and this bloom releases a seed at midnight. Now this seed was highly prized, for there were many claims about the magical powers the seed could confer upon its finder. Over the years, it has been claimed that if you could catch that elusive seed, you would be able to find hidden treasure, see the future and even gain eternal youth. Now the roots of this widespread bit of folklore undoubtedly lie in the fact that unusually ferns reproduce without producing either flowers or seeds, and clearly this presented something of a mystery to your ancestors. Hence anyone who could actually see a fern flower or catch one of its seeds was clearly some one very special. However other than the fact that in summer ferns sprout up everywhere, quite how and why ferns began associated with Midsummer in particular remains lost in the mists of time.

Other traditions advised holding all night vigils at sacred places, often the local standing stones, to gain the magical talents of a bard, although they also warn of only gaining madness, insanity and possibly being abducted by mysterious powers. For indeed many folk traditions hold that strange forces are abroad on Midsummer Eve, indeed it was widely held to be the best night of the year to see faeries. And we must remember that the faeries of folklore are not cute little Tinkerbells but capricious creatures capable of much malice and mischief. Hence folklore has lots of advice for herbs to hang up to protect your house and home from unwanted faerie visitors on Midsummer Eve, and there are numerous cautions that to be abroad on this night was to court danger and peril. For with the the barriers between our world and theirs being thinnest upon this night, being out and about was to risk being pixy-led - that is magically befuddled and hopelessly lost. Even more alarming there was the possibility that you might be whisked away forever into the realm of the fair folk, never to be seen again. So then, perhaps think twice before going church porching or hunting the elusive fern seeds!

Midsummer Eve by Edward Robert Hughes

FOLKLORE ON FRIDAY - The Black Lady of Bradley Woods Part V

Over the past month, we've been investigating the tale of the Black Lady of Bradley Woods. We have looked at this well-known ghost's origin story, traced how various aspects of the legend have evolved over the years, and how this particular ghost story is actually still changing even in the 21st century. In fact, thanks to the Black Lady legend appearing on the internet it would seem that the story is actually still gaining additional elements, with a notable example being the claim that there is an informal folk ritual to summon up the Black Lady.

In recent retellings of the tale, such as the one found on the Creepypasta Wiki,  it is alleged that if you go into Bradley Woods upon New Year's Day and call out "Black lady, black lady, I've stolen your baby" three times, the spectre will appear. However most write-ups of the Black Lady legend also claim that this particular bit of lore is another recent addition to the mythos. Now the Creepypasta Wiki version appears to have been posted first in October 2013, but this version was copied and pasted, more or less exactly, from an entry posted on another website Urban Legends Online. And this earlier article (which you can find here) by "Storyteller" who claims to live locally, was posted a couple of years before on September 13th 2011.

Now another, later version can be found on the website Lincolnshire Info which details historical places to visit. In this article on the Black Lady (which you can find here), which was posted June 11th 2014, you find the summoning recounted again, but this time with a slight difference -  

 Most people in the village believe that if you go to the woods on Christmas eve and say, “Black lady, black lady, I’ve stolen your baby” three times, the black lady will appear to you.

So then this later retelling has the special date for the summoning as Christmas Eve rather than New Year's Day. And the change in dates is interesting, for it mirrors some of the variations in the actual origin tale of the Black Lady. For as we saw in the first part of this series, some versions of the story place the tragic events of the Black Lady's origin as occurring on New Year's Day, while others allege it all happened one Christmas Eve long ago.

Now having discovered a variation,  I carried on looking for other mentions of the summoning to see if there were further variants. Naturally I was also searching for versions which predated the Creepypasta and the Lincolnshire Info articles. And apparently there had been an earlier version of the legend posted, but one on a now-defunct site Mysterious Britain.co.uk. However thanks to some web wizardry, I was able to locate an archived version of the page which was written by Paul A McHugh and posted in July 2011. And this version also gives the date for the summoning as Christmas Eve. However curiously, in this article's retelling of the Black Lady origin tale , the date of the tragedy occurring given is New Year's Day.

Naturally this begs the question whether the Christmas Eve summoning date is genuine lore, or just an error. For logically you would think that the summoning rite should occur on the anniversary of the tragedy. And it is easy to imagine that a writer might accidentally transpose the two holidays - for that kind of simple error is a very familiar to anyone who writes. However on the other hand, folklore is not known for kow-towing to logic at the best of times, and it is not uncommon for legends to contradict themselves. Plus generally speaking, the spooks and spectres of folklore often manifest annually upon a Christmas night - all over the British Isles there are tales of ghosts who only will appear on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. And given the widespread nature of this Yuletide tradition of hauntings, it is actually perfectly plausible for the Black Lady legend to contain two seemingly contradictory dates.

So then, I continued to search for an older account that might shed some light on the matter. And on the site Ghosthits.com I found what appears to be an even earlier version. Now I have had no luck in working out exactly when this first appeared, but judging from the dates found in the rss feed for updates to the site, it was certainly published before June 2011, making it the earliest version so far. However this is not the usual version of the summoning rite we have seen repeated so far, but a far more detailed version, and one with some radical differences. You may read the full article here, but here is the relevant section for our investigation - 

When my mum was a child she lived near Bradley Woods and this is one of the places she used to play. This was in late 1940’s. My mother’s story. When we were children we used to go to the woods and several of us would spread out and call her. We used to say “Black Lady, Black Lady we have your baby” and we used to shout this in turn. When the grey mist came we used to follow it through the cutting to the side of the church (St Georges, a Norman church). When she got to the church she would fully appear. She was a young lady and she was dressed in grey and she would disappear through a door at the side of the church, although there was no door there.

Now there are several interesting points here. Of course, as we are looking at the folklore of the Black Lady, we need not concern ourselves with the question of whether the spectre actually did appear when called. What is important for us is that local lore claims that she would. Secondly, it is interesting to note that while the rhyme is more or less the same - there is only a minor variation in the wording - there is no prescribed date or time for carrying out the ritual. However while there isn't an specific date for this version of the summoning, it is instead more closely tied to a particular location. And more intriguing still is the fact that this account alleges that this summoning lore was common knowledge to local children in the 1940s, despite accounts of it only seeming to surface in the 21st century.

This kind of dating issue is one of the key problems for folklorists, for folklore often exists as an oral tradition, and therefore a piece of legend or lore may have been in circulation decades before anyone formally writes it down somewhere. Now given that this account is the earliest mention I could find of the summoning, I don't think we have any particular reason to doubt its veracity. Had it appeared later, there could be a suspicion that it was an embellishment of the later lore. However given the dates, the reverse could well be true, with the later, and briefer versions being been spawned from some clumsy paraphrasing of this little article. But equally, the shift from being tied to a certain place to a certain date could well be down to the natural drift that occurs in folklore passed down through several generations, or simply multiple versions being told at the same time in the area.

However what is particularly intriguing about the above report from the 1940s, is the fact that it chimes very closely with details of tales told of the Black Lady that are not usually recorded in write-ups of the legend. Several alleged sightings of the Black Lady describe her as dressed in grey, and there are other reports of her appearing as mist. Furthermore in the comments on local historian Rod Collins' article on the Black Lady, there is even a report, dated as occurring in the 1950s, of some local boys encountering something terrifying in the lane by St George's Church that leads into the woods.

It is enough to make you wonder whether there really is something haunting Bradley Woods... However I think it is more than fair to say that the Black Lady has certainly haunted the imagination of local folks for generations, and given how tales about her are not only still spreading, it will be many years before this particular ghost is laid to rest.

FOLKLORE ON FRIDAY - The Black Lady of Bradley Woods Part IV

Over the past few weeks, we have been exploring the assorted eerie tales that cluster around the Black Lady of Bradley Woods. This ghost has long been known in the local area, however as we have seen in our little investigations, the stories surrounding this particular haunting are not only still being told but are also still evolving. Now largely this is occurring in the usual way for folklore - that is to say that the details of a story change as the tale is retold over the years, and occasionally new elements and additions find their way into the fabric of the legend too. 

Now in the case of the Black Lady of Bradley Woods, tales of her hauntings have spread into a wider arena. For these days, her legend is recounted not just in the local area but across the world thanks to the dubious magic of the internet. Hence while the Black Lady isn't the only ghost in the region, she is certainly well on her way to becoming the most famous. She has her own Wikipedia entry, appears in countless online catalogues of local spooks, and perhaps most significantly of all, she has entered the strange worlds of Creepypasta. And if you are unfamiliar with Creepypasta, allow me to explain... 

While you may well be forgiven that it is some sort of off-beat cookery site, Creepypasta is a term, and part of the name of several websites, for short macabre tales shared online. Effectively creepypastas are the digital equivalent of all those old campfire stories and playground shockers that have been passed around orally by generations of kids. The term itself derives from a corruption of "copy and paste", a nod to how such creepy tales originally began circulating on the internet, as chunks of text copied and pasted from emails and bulletin boards. While some purists might wish to dismiss creepypastas as something separate and different from traditional folklore, to my mind if they are not an emerging modern form of folklore, they are at least closely related. For example, in our previous explorations we have seen what I have tentatively termed 'weblore' shaping the current versions of the Black lady legend. And the fact that she is also now haunting the online realm of creepypasta is also having an effect on the shape of her stories. 

Now then, the Black Lady makes an appearance on the major sites for creepypasta, the Creepypasta Wiki and her tale appears on this page here. Now this article retells the usual version of the Black Lady's origin, however at the close of the piece, it makes this addition - 

Legend has it that her ghost still wanders the woods today, and if anyone is brave enough to walk into the woods on new year’s day and shout "Black lady, black lady, I’ve stolen your baby!" three times, the woman shall appear and confront them.

Anyhow, the interesting thing here is the new addition to the story, the claim that you can summon up the Black Lady. And in other write-ups of the Black Lady stories we have an additional caveat that states that it is thought this summoning appears to be a relatively recent addition to the mythos. 

Now firstly we should note that such simple rites to call up a local ghost, a witch or even the Devil Himself, are common in local folklore. For example, as I have previously mentioned in these columns, a local ghost I'm familiar with, the Grey Lady Lady of Aycliffe Village, can be called up by walking round St Andrew's Church at midnight. And there are many more such tales in regional folklore. Common elements involve going to a certain place, usually on a certain day, or at a certain time, and either reciting something and/or performing some simple action - knocking on doors or walking so many times around an area are common examples of this. 

Folklorists have called these sort of informal folk rites "legend tripping". They occur all over the world and are perennially popular with teenagers. These rites share much in common with other spooky activities that kids everywhere practice, that I'm sure you are all familiar with, such as messing about with ouija boards at sleep-overs or summoning Bloody Mary. Legend tripping taps into that same spirit of daring each other to do something that will scare the pants off you, however it is specifically tied to a certain place which has a local folklore story attached to it. In some ways, you can see legend tripping as a way of bringing a legend to life, or as a kind of live action roleplay of a campfire tale (or these days a creepypasta). 

Now in the case of the Black Lady summoning incantation, it is claimed that this is a recent addition to the legend, and given its appearance in a creepypasta version of the Black Lady story, it would be easy to assume that this summoning is indeed a new addition to the lore. But I did wonder about that. For while the term "legend tripping" was only relatively recently coined by folklorists, and hence gained a lot of attention recently,  the actual phenomena has been going on for decades. 

For example, the humorist Odgen Nash wrote a terrifying ghost story called The Three Ds which appeared in 1948 in Harpers Bazaar, which tells of a girl at a Massachusetts boarding school who is dared to do the local legend trip to the grave of one Elizabeth Catspaugh, a witch hanged in Salem. Going further back into the realm of fiction, the tale Wailing Well by MR James can be read as a legend trip going horribly wrong - in this story a group of Scouts out camping (a traditional place for telling of eerie tales of course) are warned from going into a certain patch of woods. One boy decides to test the truth of the legend, and needless to say as this is a James story, pays dearly for it. Delving back even further into literature, there are countless ghost stories from the Victorian era that have as their central premise someone going to stay in a supposed haunted house as a wager or a dare. 

So then, is the summoning of the Black Lady really a recent addition, or is it a case of this aspect of legend being only recently recorded? Next time, we'll attempt to trace this element of the story back to its roots.

FOLKLORE ON FRIDAY - The Black Lady of Bradley Woods Part III

Over the past few weeks we have been discussing aspects of one particular ghost story, the tale of the Black Lady who allegedly haunts Bradley Woods in Grimsby. Now then, as we are concerned with this haunting as folklore, whether this particular spectre exists or not is an issue - for what we have been examining is how the stories about the Black Lady have changed over the years. Now given that folklore exists first and foremost as an oral tradition, and therefore it is impossible to date exactly when the eerie tale of the Black Lady first appeared. However, certainly the story of the haunting and the tragic tale of its origin have been told in the local area throughout the 20th century and continue to this day. And last week we saw how in the 21st century, the story is still changing, now thanks to the tale being circulated on the internet, as weblore if you will.

It is the fact that this eerie story is still actually evolving that makes the tale of the Black Lady so intriguing. For in folklore we can roughly divide any old tales into two categories. Firstly there is what I would term 'preserved lore'. These are stories and legends that have been written down and recorded, but now more or less just exist as retellings of the exact same tale. Or to put it another way a standard version now exists, and it is a story that is read about in books rather than still being told by people. On the other hand however, we have the second tentative category of what I would dub 'living lore'. These items of folklore I would define as a local story that is not only still being told as part of a surviving oral tradition, but is also still being changed and added to as the years go by.

In the case of the Black Lady, we have clearly a more or less standard version of the story - the sad tale of her origin - that has been widely recorded. However, as we saw last week, when we investigated claims that she also haunts/or had haunted the nearby Nunthorpe estate, we discovered this was a somewhat recent addition to the legend, indicating that her tale is still being embroidered through retellings. Now this new element to the story appears to be a simple case of mistaken identity, with two separate but relatively nearby hauntings becoming confused. But while this might be just an  error, it does demonstrate that the story is very much still alive. And what is more, there are further other elements in the lore of the Black Lady that appear to be recent additions too.

Traditionally the Black Lady is seen walking within Bradley Woods, or spotted near its edges. However, while researching the legend, as well as finding several sightings of her walking in the woods being made by passing motorists, I also discovered that it is claimed that sometimes she will cross the road, causing passing cars to slow down before she melts away. Furthermore in my delving into the Bradley Woods stories, I discovered a first-hand account, dating from the 1960s, of a Black Lady encounter in which the car actually struck the soon-to-vanish figure with an audible bump.

Of course, if you are at all familiar with folkloric ghost stories, these accounts of the ghost causing phantom accidents will undoubtedly sound very familiar. And this is because there are many tales of local hauntings which have the spectre walking out in front of a car. In fact, this ghostly behaviour is so common it appears to be a modern variation of the well-known Vanishing Hitchhiker story that has been termed "the Spectral Jaywalker". Many examples of it, and its elder sibling tradition, are detailed on Sean Tudor's excellent site Road Ghosts.

Quite how such tales end up being so common, occurring not just all over the British Isles but all over the world, is a question folklorists and researchers are still investigating. However in the case of the Black Lady, I did find some interesting possible clues to how they spread. In the lively comments section on local historian Rod Collins' article on the Black Lady, where I found the 1960s jaywalking report mentioned above, I came across several other mentions of the Black Lady haunting the road. Interestingly however, I also found references to what appears to be a sub-tradition that alleges that instead of a figure, mysterious lights are the cause of these phantom near-misses.

Now one plausible explanation for the spectral jaywalker phenomena is that they are optical illusions. The theory claims that thanks to the bends in the road, direction of travel, and other natural effects of the local landscape on both light levels and visibility, some places generate an illusion or impression of a shape or a figure on the road. It is a well established fact that rapid changes between light and darkness can produce visual distortions - photically induced hallucinations are a good example of this - and it is thought natural features on specific stretches of road such as sunlight shining through trees can produce subtle strobing effects that generate these illusions. So then, given that many spectral jaywalkers are described as pale figures - often ladies in white - or as in the case of the Bradley Woods haunting, patches of light or mist, this may well be the scientific explanation for a real phenomena that underlies the folklore.

Sadly I've not been able to trace much further detail on these particular tales of hauntings on the Bradley Road, but it would seem that this section of road is a common spot for sightings of the Black Lady. But given that one commenter on the Rod Collins article mentions his father recounting a tale of a vanishing car on the Bradley Woods road, one cannot help but wonder if these tales of lights on the road were perhaps originally a separate road ghost story. As we saw last week, the Black Lady legend appears to have absorbed (or at least to be in the process of absorbing) a separate tale of a hooded figure that haunted Nunthorpe in 1980s, and therefore I suspect the haunting at Bradley Road may well have been unrelated to the Black Lady at first, but is now becoming part of her folklore.

I suspect this is often the case where one story is more active than others. And have no doubt the tale of the Black Lady is still very active - it is indeed living lore. For her eerie story continues to be told in the local area, and now her fame is spreading online too. Next time, we will examine a further example of the Black Lady legend becoming more elaborate in recent years, one that sees the Black Lady incorporating another sub genre of folklore...

FOLKLORE ON FRIDAY - The Black Lady of Bradley Woods Part II

Last week we told the eerie and tragic tale of the Black Lady of Bradley Woods. However there is another story attached to this particular ghost which also delves into her origins to a lesser degree. And while the legend we recounted last week bears all the hallmarks of a traditional ghost story from local folklore, this supplement to the main legend,  I suspect, is of far more modern vintage.

If you look up the legend of the Black Lady, you will soon find an oft-repeated assertion that the Black Lady was a nun. Now at first glance this appears to make a lot of sense, for British folklore is chock full of phantom nuns and spectral monks. However, quite clearly her origin tale make no mention of her being a nun at all. Now in the realm of folklore, it is not uncommon to find a ghost or spirit to have several different origin stories, and this is very true in cases such as this one where the entity has no definite name.

However there are some factors here that raise some suspicions. Firstly, so far as I can tell, no one has ever described her as sporting the usual nun's wimple and habit. And secondly, the nearest convent, and indeed the nearest sites of former convents even, are actually several miles away. Now having done a fair bit of digging into the assorted accounts of the legend,  I am beginning to suspect that what we will call "the nun theory" isn't so much folklore but something I have started to think of as weblore. And what is weblore? Well, as any reader in any field will tell you, the major problem with researching virtually anything online is discovering endless pages featuring the same information copied either in whole or in part from one single source. The most common example of this are the hundreds of pages that simply copy and paste entries from somewhere like Wikipedia. Additionally there are an equal number of sites that don't copy and paste wholesale, but simply paraphrase the text, allowing further inaccuracies and distortions to creep in. Hence any errors from an original source are very quickly reproduced, and the rogue factoid becomes part of the popular wisdom on the subject.

Of course there is a similarity here with the traditional way folklore is transmitted, with folks repeating the same stories time and time and again, and sometimes adding or omitting various details, either deliberately embellishing the tale or just by making mistakes. However the line I would draw between actual folklore and it's modern relation weblore, is that the former is done through an oral tradition or by literature, and the process is slow and gradual. Whereas weblore evolves rapidly from the mechanical means of copying and pasting, with variations creeping in from repeated mistakes or poor copy editing, rather than the tale organically changing through being retold through different tellers.

Now then, if you look up the legend of the Black Lady, you can find many sites that simply repeat or rephrase the Wikipedia entry on this ghost. And the text on the original page states that "One theory that has been put forward is that the Black Lady is the ghost of a nun", and unsurprisingly this factoid has become part of the weblore of the Black Lady. However if you look up the reference Wikipedia gives for the nun theory in the page's footnotes, it points to a report in the Grimsby Telegraph, and this newspaper article actually says something a little bit different.

To begin with, the newspaper report is detailing an eerie photograph that allegedly may show the famous local phantom. Apparently while taking pictures of her cousin at night in Bradley Woods, photographer Kirsty Richie discovered strange shapes appearing in the shots. Naturally this was enough for the local paper to happily recounts the legend, and the piece remarks -

One theory is that she is the ghost of a nun, and was also said to appear in Nunsthorpe before moving to Bradley.

So then, I decided to dig a little deeper, and began looking for tales of ghostly nuns in the nearby Nunsthorpe. Now this western area of Grimsby is only a few miles away from Bradley Woods, and was once the site of the Priory of St Leonard. And yes, this religious institution was once home to nuns - and for more information on it I would direct the interested reader to local historian Rod Collins's page on it.

However the priory was closed down by Henry VIII in 1539, and it then became Nuns Farm. In 1935, this was demolished and eventually in the 1920s, the land was acquired by the local council and new houses were built on the site. Unsurprisingly given the area's long and rich history, I did find some reports of ghosts roaming this new housing estate, but I couldn't find any tales of a spectral nun being spotted. However I did find several mentions of a hooded man being seen, and in fact the case was featured in the popular TV series Arthur C Clarke's World of Strange Powers. In episode 5, entitled  "Ghosts, Apparitions and Haunted Houses", which first aired on 1st May 1985, we got the following report of the hooded man -

Now I rather suspect that these eerie tales of a hooded figure are the real origin of the alleged nun ghost. I would guess that these reports of a hooded ghost, and in fact most likely this 1980s TV report on the sightings, were misremembered, and hence the hooded spectre ended up changing sex and becoming a nun. With that muddle in place, it is a short step for someone to theorise that these two ghosts dressed in black and appearing relatively close together were one and the same. And so a hooded figure becoming conflated with the Black Lady.

Furthermore from my research it is quite clear that the stories of the Black Lady haunting Bradley Woods date back well before the reports of a hooded figure in Nunsthorpe. To turn once more to local historian Rod Collins, in the lively comment section on his article on the Black Lady there is no shortage of folks recounting their own tales of the Black Lady, with several locals recalling hearing the stories as children in decades before the era of ZX Spectrums and Rubik's Cubes. Quite clearly Bradley Woods has had a spooky reputation for a considerable amount of time...

As for the photograph in the report (which is archived here), I have reproduced it above alongside a version where I adjusted the brightness levels to better see what is going on. To my eyes, I would guess the strange shapes are possibly the result of some kind of reflection, but given the low quality of the picture I was working with it is hard to be certain what is causing the spooky looking shapes. However, given the nebulous nature of the shapes, I am strongly inclined to rule out a deliberate fraud, as I suspect that a deliberate hoax would produce something resembling a typical pop culture ghost rather than some mysterious patterns.

But the photograph does actually prove something about the Black Lady of Bradley Woods. For while the above snap may well fall short of providing concrete evidence for the existence of ghosts, it is absolutely rock solid proof that the story of the Black Lady is alive and well in the 20th century. And next week we will look at how the tale of this spectre is very much still a living legend. 

FOLKLORE ON FRIDAY - A Traditional Winter Warmer

As some of you are aware, around this time every year I start making a little drink to enjoy over the Christmas season - ginger whisky. It's a gorgeous winter warmer that doesn't take very long to prepare, but does need a fair bit of time to make, for it is a drink that needs to sit and mature for some time. So then, every year at some point in September, as the first signs of autumn are appearing, I gather the ingredients together and make a batch or two. 

This traditional winter warmer is very simple to make, and the trickiest bit is having a little patience! But breaking with the modern way of giving out a recipe online, I'm not going to lumber you with sixty paragraphs of pointless blather that you have to scroll through to get to the ruddy recipe. So here we go! 

First of all, let's gather everything we need together! 

INGREDIENTS

• 1 litre of whisky (any cheap whisky will do)
• 2 jars of stem ginger in syrup (about 600g to 700g in total)
• Fresh ginger (approx. 1 to 2 inches of root)
• A cinnamon stick or powdered cinnamon
• 2 teaspoons of brown sugar

As jars of stem ginger can be pricey and sometimes hard to find, I have found that you can replace the stem ginger with around 5 to 6 inches of ginger root and about 300g of a good quality honey (or 500g of a cheaper one). 

Also, if you prefer, you can switch the whisky for brandy, and get an equally delicious winter warmer. Indeed since first experimenting with making a ginger brandy, I normally whip up a batch of both. 

EQUIPMENT

• A 1.5 litre Kilner jar or similar sealable air tight container
• A sharp knife (careful now!)
• A sieve
• Some empty bottles
• A sheet of muslin and/or coffee filter paper
• Patience

1) Firstly - and this is very important - scald your jars with boiling hot water and make sure they are thoroughly clean. And if you are using an old jar, do remember to check the seal is still in good working order, for we need the container to be airtight. To ensure they are completely sterilised, remove the seals and place them onto a baking tray. Then pop them into an oven preheated to 140C/120C Fan/Gas 1 for 20 minutes. For the rubber seals, place them in a pan of boiling water and boil for 3 minutes to sterilise. Afterwards, thoroughly dry them and they are good to go! 

2) Next, using a little sieve, strain off the syrup from the stem ginger into your jar. Handy hint - once you have taken the ginger out ready for step 3), screw the lids back on the jar and leave them upside down for a while. This will allow the syrup coating the insides of the jars to collect in the lids. You can often get another couple of tablespoons-worth of syrup by doing this! 

 3) Chop up the stem ginger into small pieces of roughly 1 cm square, and add to the jar. Now you can skip this bit, but I have found over the years, chopping the ginger into small pieces adds more flavour to the finished drink. Do take care when doing this, as the syrup coating the ginger does make it slippery! This recipe is NOT improved by the addition of blood and severed fingers. 

4) Peel your fresh ginger. Handy hint - using the back of a spoon is often better than a knife or peeler! Then slice the ginger into small chunks of about 1 cm square. Then add them to the jar too. 

5) Sprinkle in two teaspoons of brown sugar

6) Then pour in your whisky. And I will stress again here, that most bargain basement whisky will work just fine for this recipe. For heaven's sakes, don't use a proper malt for this! 

7) Break up a small cinnamon stick and put it into the jar. Or alternatively add a dash of powdered cinnamon, But be warned, using powdered cinnamon does make the later straining of the drink a bit trickier! 

8) Seal the jar, and give the mixture a good shake to mix everything together. 

9) Finally - and this is the really tricky bit - leave it for at least six weeks! Occasionally give it a shake, but otherwise leave it alone! Generally I make my ginger whisky around the Autumn Equinox and only open it around the Winter Solstice, just in time for Christmas! 

10) When you open it, place a piece of muslin or a paper coffee filter (for the best results, or both) into a sieve and drain the ginger whisky into a jug. If after straining and filtering it remains slightly cloudy, this is perfectly normal. However if it remains a bit too cloudy, strain it again. Then decant your winter warmer into bottles. 

11) Finally drink and enjoy! Ginger whisky may be drunk neat. Or it's very nice on the rocks too. Alternatively it may be added to coffee or hot chocolate to add an extra warming glow to your drink!

FOLKLORE ON FRIDAY - The Black Lady of Bradley Woods

Last week we were looking at the local legend of Peg Powler, and this week we're delving into regional lore once more to encounter another fearsome female apparition. As I remarked in my little series Species of Spectres, one of the common features we can categorise folkloric ghosts by is their colour. And indeed the British Isles abound with assorted phantoms that are named after the hues they appear in. Among these sorts of ghost, White Ladies are quite common, however in Lincolnshire we have a rare example of an opposite type of haunting - the Black Lady of Bradley Woods. 

Roughly three or so miles from Grimsby, lies the little village of Bradley. It is a quaint little place, and although the village is undoubtedly ancient - for example, its church, St. George's, dates back to Norman times, it has always been a small place, and even today its population still numbers just around only 200 souls. Just south of the village, lies the Dixon Nature Reserve and Bradley Woods. However Bradley Woods has long been home to something other than the usual wildlife. For local tradition holds that the woods are haunted by a mysterious figure known as the Black Lady of Bradley Woods.

According to eyewitnesses down the years, this spectre appears in the form of a young woman, all dressed in a long black cloak, with a tear-stained face. Mostly she is seen walking in the woods, however there are several tales of folks just seeing a pair of eyes watching them, or simply having a sense of being followed. While there are no stories of her ever attacking or harming anyone, the Black Lady has been used by parents as a scary cautionary figure for generations, with the classic line being "If you don't behave, the Black Lady will come and get you!"

So who is the mysterious Black Lady? Well, while local lore has never provided a name for her, there is a most commonly reproduced tale of the origin of the Black Lady. As you might expect, there are several variant versions. For example, one version holds that these events occurred in the Barons' War - two civil wars that occurred in the reign of King John in 1215, and a second uprising against Henry III in 1264 - while another states the tale happened during the time of the Crusades. But regardless of the dating, the story itself stays more or less the same, with the most common version actually placing the events in the War of the Roses (1455 to 1487).

According to the tale, deep in Bradley Woods was a cottage, where lived a woodcutter, his wife and young baby child. However these times of strife saw the woodcutter enter the military, with most versions claiming he was forcibly pressed into service. So then, the woodcutter had to leave his home, and left his wife and child with no idea when he would be back. And every day, his forlorn wife would pick up their child and wander to the edge of the woods and look out for her much missed husband returning home.

However, one day while making her daily walk through the woods, according to some versions of the tale, on New Year's Day,  the young wife encountered a band of mounted men. These fellows were soldiers, usually alleged to be from an enemy force that have entered the county. But wherever they came from, villains they certainly were. They demanded money and drink from the woman, and then beat her, raped her, and rode off taking her child with them. Naturally our lady was devastated and never truly recovered from this terrible ordeal. She dressed in black for the rest of her life, and continually wandered the woods looking for her child. Even after her husband returned, she continued her heart-breaking search until the day she died. Of course, not even death could stop her search and she wanders the woods to this very day, still looking for her lost child...

However that isn't the only tale told of the Black Lady of Bradley Woods, and next week we shall delving further into the legends and lore surrounding this particular haunting!

FOLKLORE ON FRIDAY - Peg Powler

Last week I was writing about a little piece of childhood lore concerning puddles - namely that where I was growing up in the North East of England, puddles rippling with rainbow hues from spilt oil or petrol were referred to as "witches' washing" (see here for the full tale). Now from various responses to that article, it seems that this little piece of puddle lore appears to have been somewhat confined to the North East. However while digging around assorted old tomes on local legends and the like, I discovered a possible origin. 

Now I grew up in the Darlington area, a former mill town built on the River Skerne, a tributary of the mighty River Tees. And as you might expect, these waterways have a rich folklore of their own -  for example, previously I have written of the Headless Hob that haunted the Tees near Hurworth, and of the Sockburn Worm whose slaying is commemorated with a ritual on Croft Bridge. However on the subject of hags and witches, the stretch of the Tees around Darlington is also home to another horror - Peg Powler. According to legend she lived in the valley that is now the Cow Green reservoir, and haunted the Tees around Mickleton and Middleton-in-Teesdale as the High Green Ghost.

However further down the river's run around Darlington, she is better known as Peg Powler. Boasting trailing green hair, long arms, and sharp claws, Peg was very similar to another folkloric hag Jenny Greenteeth. Indeed in their celebrated tome Faeries (1978), Alan Lee and Brian Froud portrayed these two aquatic monsters together on the same double page spread.

Peg Powler as depicted in Froud and Lee's Faeries

She is mentioned in several early texts on folklore and legends. In 1886, Mr William Brockie, in his tome Legends & Superstitions of the County of Durham describes her thus - 

The river Tees has its sprite, called Peg Powler, whose delight it is to lure too venturesome bathers into her subaqueous haunts, and then drag them to the bottom and drown them. Children are still warned from playing on the banks of the river, especially on Sundays, by threats that Peg Powler will catch hold of them and carry them off. Peg has long green tresses, hanging down over her shoulders, but what her costume is we are not told.

And aside from preying upon children and others unfortunate enough to stray too near the water's edge, Peg Powler had another distinct feature associated with her, as Mr Brockie continues to relate - 

The foam or froth, which is often seen floating in huge masses, on the surface of deep eddying pools in the higher portion of the river, is called "Peg Powler's suds"; the finer less sponge-like froth is called "Peg Powler's cream."

And this association with foam or froth on the river with the water hag Peg, immediately made me think of the witches' washing puddles.  Might there be a connection between my childhood lore and this older legend? As it happens, Mr Brockie mentions a possible link - 

"A goblin or sprite of the same evil character is said to haunt the river Skerne."  

So who was this other watery monster? Some further digging unearthed a footnote the Denham Tracts (1892), a compendium of legends and lore gathered  by  Michael Aislabie Denham, in the mid 1800s. Early on in this tome, there is a list of folkloric beings, and this includes "Peg Powlers". And what is more, there is a most illuminating footnote - 

This oulde ladye is the evil goddess of the Tees. I also meet with a Nanny Powler, at Darlington, who from the identity of their sirnames, is, I judge, a sister, or it may be a daughter of Peg’s. Nanny Powler, aforesaid, haunts the Skerne, a tributary of the Tees.

Given the close connection of the two rivers in the town, it is perhaps not surprising that another hag called Powler had colonised the waterway that ran through Darlington itself.

Now up until the 1980s, the River Skerne was sadly very polluted, a legacy of the days when Darlington was an industrial mill town. Indeed when I was growing up, locals used to joke that the Skerne was now so polluted that even traditional waterway wildlife such as abandoned shopping trolleys could no longer live in it. Thankfully now the river has recovered, but back in the 1970s foam, scum, and bright rainbows of chemical hues were not an uncommon sight on the Skerne.

.Peg Powler by Russell Dickerson

And I can't help wondering if this pollution was also identified as Peg Powler's suds and cream. Given that folklorists see the likes of Peg and Nanny as warning tales to caution children to keep away from hazardous rivers and ponds, the talk of her cream and suds may well have an origin in a story to stop kids from playing in waters that were dirty and poisonous as well as dangerous. Therefore in the local area, it is not a huge leap to suppose that this lore may have led to the oily spectrums in puddles being dubbed witches' washing too. 

Of course, this is pure speculation on my part. And on balance, we should note that the strange rainbows of oil on water quite naturally suggest a magical or eldritch origin in the minds of imaginative children. Indeed when asking if anyone else had heard of witches' washing, several folks responded that they had been told it was created by fairies, while many more were delighted to learn of this bit of North-eastern lore as it chimed with their own childhood feelings that these weird rainbows in puddles were somehow magical and strange.

However on the other hand, while a great many places in the United Kingdom have some sort of monster, ghost or witch to ward off the unwary from dangerous waters, it is unusual that stories of Peg Powler incorporate floating foam and froth as part of the legend. Other well-known aquatic predators such as Jenny Greenteeth, grindylows or kelpies don't share this feature. And given that foam and suds in the tales told of Powler and her brood centre around the old mill town of Darlington, possibly there is a connection to the idea of witches doing their washing in puddles. Certainly it would explain why this piece of rainy day folklore seems so confined to a small area of the North East.

FOLKLORE ON FRIDAY - Witches Washing

Just the other day, while out and about, I happened to notice some children on their way to school. They were happily bouncing in the little puddles left after a recent shower, naturally much to the disapproval of their parents. 

And thus it ever was! I was instantly reminded of my own childhood, and those simpler days when there was no greater joy than coming out after the rain had stopped and playing in puddles. However besides happy memories of splashing about on pavements and gutters, and of course, less happy remembrances of being scolded later for being dripping wet and covered in muddy water, I did also recall a curious little fragment of folklore from those now distant times. 

For when I was growing in in the North-east of England, there was a little bit of lore associated with puddles. Now back then, it was not uncommon to find puddles brimming with strange rainbows, born of little spills and drips of oil and petrol from cars. But even though as little kids we soon found out how these colourful puddles were formed, I remember vividly also hearing that they were the result of witches doing their washing in the puddles. Whether they are doing their laundry or personal ablutions was never made entirely clear to me. But either way, it was firmly embedded in the lore of my playground at least, that these puddles were the result of "witches' washing", and it was considered remarkable to find some on your path. 

Quite in what way it was remarkable was never quite clear either, and was a matter of some debate. Some claimed it was good luck to find a puddle of witches' washing, but others held that it was a bad sign, for it showed wicked hags were abroad nearby. But the practical upshot of this little piece of modern folklore was that something ordinary and mundane was transformed into a little splash of magic on the pavements. 

However despite trawling assorted books on folklore and consulting the ever-expanding hive-mind that is the internet, this little tradition appears to have been somewhat localised, with only a single report of it being alternatively called "fairies' washing" coming from a fellow North-easterner. But of course, if any of this rings a bell with you, please do share your lore in the comments below.

However, I suspect there might be a good reason why this bit of puddle lore is perhaps found only in one area of the North East of England, but that's a story for another day... 

from The Witch Next Door by Norman Bridwell