Screaming skulls

Screaming skulls. Two words that really do sound magical together, for some strange reason. Most folklore, or legends or traditions have symbolic or cultural links to comparative tales in other parts of the world, - ghosts and hauntings, calendar customs, purification and initiation rites, fire festivals and so on – but it appears that dear old England is alone in its claim to those unnerving relics known as Screaming Skulls.

The wonderful thing about this particular area of folklore is that each skull is said to have numerous exotic origins, and is said to come with a wide range of associated phenomena. They also appear to be ‘out of time’ – there do not appear to be ‘new’ skulls setting up camp in people’s homes, thankfully. But why skulls and why do they scream?

What are screaming skulls?
A screaming skull is a skull that resides in a house, often in its own case, that is of unknown age and origin. How the skull got to the house, and when, and for what reason is often the subject of much local rumour and legend. Now, these skulls seem perfectly content to rest in peace, should they be allowed to do so. Year on year, their cavernous eye sockets stare idly into space, taking in the sight of the centuries. However, woe betides anyone who tries to remove said skull from its ancestral home.

Why you shouldn’t send a screaming skull on its merry way!
Screams. Some more screams. Eerie, scary screams. Some poltergeist activity. Storms, yes, storms. And plenty of screams. Oh, and throw in some general havoc and unpleasantness for desserts. The question, of course, is whether anyone who resides in a home that has its own skull has, in recent memory, tried to remove one, and what were the consequences?

Origins and links
It would be easy to make a case for a surviving remnant of the Celtic cult of heads (a great heavy metal band name…). However, as has been pointed out by Daniel Parkinson on the Mythical Britain website, the screaming skull phenomena is restricted to England, and you would expect a Celtic survival to have at least some representation in Scotland, Ireland and Wales.

There are many examples of other ‘offerings’ and ‘out of place’ items being found in houses – often in roofs and chimneys. Bull’s hearts stuck with pins, mummified cats, shoes and other such items have all been found in old houses during redevelopment. These objects seems to have been used for magical protection, which could lead us to think that the screaming skulls have an origin in the magic and superstition of the middle ages – many of the screaming skulls were first reported from the 16 century onwards.

Famous skulls
Bettiscombe Manor, Dorset: Arguably the most famous of the screaming skulls. Legend has it that it was the skull of a West Indian servant, who wished to be returned home after his death. When he was buried in the local churchyard all manner of chaos ensued. The villagers dug up the skeleton and deposited it at the manor house. Over the years the rest of the skeleton disappeared until only the skull remained. Various attempts have been made over the years to remove the skull, but each time the owner is forced to retrieve the unhappy item. Forensic analysis has more recently dated the skull to the Iron Age, and further removed it from legend by re-sexing it as female. The Iron Age hillfort of Pilsdon Pen is nearby, which nicely suggests the Celtic head cult survival once again.

The Screaming Skull of Tunstead Farm, Tunstead Milton, Derbyshire: Tunstead Farm plays host to a cantankerous skull by the name of Dickie, which is either the last surviving piece of the skeleton of a women who was murdered at the farm, or a soldier called Ned Dixon, who was… also murdered at the farm! Various attempts to move, or steal, it have resulted in load groans and screams, and unsurprisingly, it is always returned to its home. Dickie has also been attributed with the diversion of a railway bridge that was planned to run close to the farm in 1863.

The Screaming Skull of Wardley Hall: There are a number of grisly origin tales associated with this skull. The first, and least likely, is that it belonged to a rakish and murderous royalist soldier by the name of Roger Downs, who met his end when he took part in one duel too many and was beheaded by a waterman on Tower Bridge in London. The story has it that his body was thrown into the Thames and his head sent to Wardley Hall in a box, which is fairly unpleasant. However, when the grave of Roger Downs was dug up, it contained a full skeleton, complete with skull.

Others maintain that skull belonged Father Ambrose Barlow, who was hung, drawn and quartered in the 17th century for his religious beliefs. His head was said to have been displayed either at Lancaster Castle or in a church in Manchester. A Catholic sympathizer later bought the skull and concealed it behind a panel at Wardley Hall. When it was rediscovered over a century later a servant decided to throw the relic into the moat, whereupon, in true screaming skull fashion, the hall was beset by storms and paranormal activity. In a twist on the usual tale, the skull is said to have been destroyed on a number of occasions, only for it to reappear on the doorstep in the morning. Whether there is any truth in either of these stories it is hard to say and it appears that the skull has been removed regularly in recent years, without consequence – although maybe that is because the skull ‘knows’ it will be returned!

The Screaming Skull of Burton Agnes Hall: The whereabouts of this skull is supposed to be mystery. It is said that it was bricked up many years ago, and that it remains in silence within the walls of one of the rooms to this day. The story of this skull features three sisters who were having the hall built in Elizabethan times. One day, one of the sisters was attacked and soon passed away. However, before she died her two sisters promised that they would take her head back to the hall, so that she could see the finished building. But in good storytelling fashion, they ignored their promise and had her buried in the local churchyard. Of course, this would not do, and the house was beset by all manner of moaning and unsettling sounds, until, eventually the skull was dug up and brought back to the house. Any attempt to remove it was troubled by the usual tremblings, moanings and storms!

The hall was actually built for Sir Henry Griffiths, who may have had three daughters, but there is no way of knowing whether the skull belonged to one of these, although the young girl’s spirit is still said to walk the halls on the anniversary of her death.

The Screaming Skull of Higher Farm, Chilton Cantilo: The skull here is said to belong to Theophilus Broome, who died in 1670, and who left written instructions that his skull was to be kept in the farmhouse. The story was first written down in 1791, and there is a said to be written testament in the house from a number of witnesses to the supernatural phenonema that follow in the wake of any attempts to

Tom Bawcock's Eve

Many calendar customs and traditions are tied in with local fairs and processions. This is certainly case in Mousehole, Cornwall, when on the evening before Christmas Eve, a lantern procession and traditional feast of fish dishes, including in some houses the ubiquitous Stargazy Pie, takes place to mark the occasion of Tom Bawcock’s Eve.

Legend has it that Bawcock saved the small fishing village from starvation, by setting out in storms and gales that had prevented the town’s fleet sailing for weeks. Depending on the legend he either set out alone, with his cat, or with a crew coerced into risking life and limb. Bawcock returned safe and sound with seven different types of fish in his catch and the town was saved from starvation. To mark the occasion some houses hold a fish feast comprising of seven different dishes of seven different fishes, other bake the Stargazy Pie – a pie with eggs potates and whole pilchards whose heads poke out of the top of the crust (gazing at the stars). The lantern procession probably recalls the anxious villages searching the horizon, anxiously waiting for Bawcock to return.

Of course, with the theme of finding food to stave off starvation, winter storms and hardships, the lantern procession lighting the darkness and the celebration of relief and happiness, Tom Bawcock’s Eve has resonance with many other mid-winter festivals of light, warmth, food and the promise of the spring to come.

Four days before Tom Bawcock’s Eve the town’s Christmas lights are extinguished in memory of the loss of a local lifeboat and its crew in rough weather in 1981. This certainly brings home the power of nature to heal and to harm.

Find out more:

• http://www.an-daras.com/cutoms/cu_customs_Tom%20Bawcocks%20Eve.htm
• http://www.pznow.co.uk/locplace1/mousehole.html
• http://www.information-britain.co.uk/customdetail.php?id=6

Walking the dog

So soon... This time a legend, or rather two legends, that seem so similar from different parts of southern England. First, many years ago, I read out about a local legend regarding Odiham in Hampshire. It was in a magazine called Prediction (if only I had kept all those back issues..), and concerned a phantom man who strode along certain routes. He was said to be tall and to appear at times of crisis, or to only appear to those in trouble or whose time was almost up. The article to my recollection linked the figure to the Norse/Germanic god Woden or Wotan (Odin). Interestingly, although maybe not significantly, Odiham's earliest recorded name seems to be Odiam and Wudiham.

Meanwhile, down in Devon, Hawkesdown Hillfort, which overlooks Axmouth and its estuary (in later times it would have looked over the Roman Fosse Way), is said to be haunted by a huge dark warrior and his fire-breathing dog. The area is home to many hillforts and deep valleys and can still be a pretty wild place when out walking - even in the daytime. The hillfort is on private land.

These two cases are interesting because whereas the cases of phantom animals are reportedly quite high, the case for this particular Woden-like manifestation seems to be fairly rare. Most 'ghosts' seem to be either place, or event, fixated, not wandering and linked to ancient gods. The other aspect that makes these two cases interesting is that Woden survived the onset of Christianity to survive in one of the most impressive (and fearsome) aspects of folklore, as the leader of the Wild Hunt - the rememberance of which is still prevalent across the south and west of England. I refer you to Wikipedia for more information on the Wild Hunt - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wild_Hunt


For more information:

• Steven Shipp, 'East Devon hillforts', Wisht Maen 4: 17-18 (1995)
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wild_Hunt
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Woden

November adieu

Having missed the boat spectacularly with November, and with today being the 1st of December, I think I'm just going to add a brief overview of some of the other calendar festivals from November, and maybe go back next year to flesh them out. So, without further ado. I bring you...

Wroth Silver Rent: An annual fee paid to the agent of the Duke of Buccleach, lord of the manor of Knightlow. The tradition can be traced back to 1170, which probably means it can really lay claim to being fairly ancient. At dawn, local people gather around a hollow stone on Knightlow Hill (near Ryton on Dunmore, Warwickshire) to pay their annual fee - those who fail to do so have to pay a fine of either 20 shillings, or give up a white bull with red ears and a red nose (these sound like the cattle version of the hunting dogs of Lord of Annwn in the first tale of the Mabinogion).

After the ceremony, which takes place of 11th November (Martinmas Eve), and with everybody no doubt freezing cold, the payees retire to a local inn for warming drinks of milk and rum, and some good food as well, no doubt. Some sources claim a clay pipe, made especially for the occassion is also smoked at this time.

The fact that cattle formed part of the fine, and that stone itself sits on a mound, that may or may not be a tumulus (local legend has it that it is the grave of a giant Danish warrior called Colbran who was killed by Guy of Warwick, points to this having very old origins indeed. The name wroth itself may deride from Rother Hryder, meaning cattle money... or may be a corruption of wrath, the payment being for a past misdemeanour on the part of one of the 25 parishes that take part.

Stir-up sunday: Traditionally the start of the run-in to Christmas, held on advent Sunday. Everyone takes a turn to stir the christmas pudding, which is made with 13 ingredients. One for Jesus and 12 for his disciples. This is also the last sunday of the church year. The current credit crunch might decide whether or not you add a silver sixpence, or a shiny tuppence!

I will leave Courts Leet and Baron, and the Admission of the Lord Mayor for another time.

Find out more:

• http://www.carryontours.com/Calendar/novembercustoms.htm#wroth
• http://www.docrowe.org.uk/index.html
• http://www.wrothsilver.org.uk/Faq.htm

Now that we are in December, I will try and keep on top of things.

Coming soon: Screaming skulls, Woden's walks.

More soon...

With November fast running out, I will be posting up a summary of other customs and traditions that this particularly cold month has to offer, hopefully this weekend. I'm also going to be looking at the peculiarly spooky phenomenon that are 'screaming skulls', before ploughing on into December and the myriad festivities and traditions contained within its 31 days.

Keep your eyes peeled!

Turning the Devil Stone, Devon

OK, these first few entries have focused on Devon, but I will venture further afield. All in good time. While reading up on the tar barrel race in Ottery St Mary, I can across a mention of the the following custom: Turning the Devil's Stone, or Boulder. This takes place every November 5th evening in the North Devon village of Shebbear.

What happens?
At approximately 8pm, bell-ringers start to ring a normal 'peal' (if there is such a term?) before descending into a cacophony of discordance (sounds like a heavy metal song!) designed to drive evil from the village. However, knowing old nick to be a cunning fellow, the bell-ringers descend upon the local graveyard where they hunt out the Devil's Stone. This is a type of quartz stone, said to be a glacial erratic (ie it doesn't belong in the area, it must have got there by some 'other' means), which weights over a tonne - measuring approximately six by four feet.

The bell-ringers, knowing the stone to be covering old nick's local pied-a-terre, come armed with crowbars and proceed to 'flip' the stone by heaving it out of the ground and turning it over. Failure to do this would result in the evil doings befalling and befouling the village. Catastrophe averted, all present retire to the local pub - The Devil's Stone Inn; haunted, of course - for much needed refreshment.

The origins
The stone may well be a glacial erratic carried to the spot during an ice age. It could also be a standing stone, a pagan altar, or a stone dropped from the sky by the devil - possibly from a nearby church, preventing its construction. Others say it dropped out of the devil's pocket when he was cast out of heaven by St Michael. Whatever the stone's origin, the ritual resonates as one of ensuring good luck for a community, which may well have been remote from its neighbours when the custom was first practised - some theorise it dates to Saxon times, while its first written record dates from 1870.

Where to find more

• The Modern Antiquarian - Shebbear Stone - some nice pics and associated folklore
• Information Britain
• Shebbear Village - pdf collecting articles, found on the village website
  
  

Those flaming barrels

So, it's November 5th - remember, remember etc - and what better way to celebrate Guy Fawkes Night than to... well, you could be all traditional and have some fireworks and maybe a small bonfire, or you could go all out for entertainment and go and watch a flaming tar barrel race. That's right, in a number of places in England, particularly Devon, a once more widespread tradition survives - in this day of the twin gods of Health and Safety - that of carrying or rolling flaming tar barrels.

Today, it would seem the most famous occurrence of this tradition can be found in Ottery St Mary, Devon. I'm pleased to say that despite the almost apocalyptic recent weather recently this year's event went ahead as planned. Another race occurs at Hatherleigh in Devon, and I'm sure there are one or two others that have remained under the radar, so to speak.

What happens?
Well, there are on average 17 barrels during the main race, the men's, which takes place near to midnight. There are other races with smaller barrels for children and women. Although there are always huge crowds for these events - that take place on the same night as a carnival and bonfire - you can only take part if your family have lived in the town for a 'requisite' number of years.

The idea is to compete for the largest of the barrels and, wrapped in old clothes and gloves made of sackcloth soaked in water, to carry the flaming tar barrel on the back of the neck, top of the shoulders, as quickly as possible (presumably so the flames fan out behind you rather than onto you!). In recent years, the police and health and safety conscious have made attempts to sanitise the event, but thankfully they have been seen of - to my knowledge there has never been a serious injury. The contestants weave through the windy lanes, dodging the crowds as they go. Imagine carrying a 30kg barrel full of blazing tar, as the heat grows and you grow weary!

The Origins
Well, the festivities are obviously linked to the festivities of November 5th and the gunpowder plot. But is it as simple as that? Its origins can apparently be traced back to the 1700s, but it is tempting to attribute this festival of fire to a pagan survival, falling as it does, only a few days after Samhain - the time of no time, the end of the year, a three-day festival that marked the onset of winter, with its associated darkness and cold. In this way it could be seen to form part of an extended cycle of mid-winter festivals of light and hope, where communities would get together to raise their spirits and maybe begin a process of reawakening the sun ahead of spring.

However, there are other theories. One such suggestion, though fairly mundane, is that it started as a test of strength that was copied, remembered and that eventually formed part of the calendar. Another is that the smoke and fire being carried through town was used to effectively fumigate the streets of evil and unwanted spirits. It has also been said that the fumigation was of local shops - presumably a barrel would be carried between shops out of hours?

What should be noted is the suggestion by Ronald Hutton that 'Guy Fawkes Night would never have continued to the present, with such popularity, as the surviving British fire festival, because of its historical significance alone.' (The Stations of the Sun; 1996; Oxford University Press).

It should be noted that in other parts of the country the barrels are, or were, rolled, and that some, such as Allendale, form part of the New Year celebrations.

Where to find more
Follow these links to start your own research into the tar barrel traditions:

• Information Britain
• A blog called Wanabehuman...
• East Devon Guide
• Otterybarrels.com
• Tarbarrels.co.uk

My book has arrived

The Burning of the Ashen Faggot is now available to buy directly from the Lulu website.

Click the logo to head straight to the product page where you can order either a hard copy or download as a pdf.


The Burning of the Ashen Faggot


This means that this blogspot is now up and officially running, and in the course of the next few days you can expect discussion on such arcane topics as the customs of November, screaming skulls and even pinned hearts (found in chimneys of all places). Keep an eye out, more is coming soon.

It begins with a book

Welcome to the first post of this blog about English folklore, every so often I will delve into the oddities, extremities, murky places and down right fascinating customs, traditions and folklores of England. You are welcome to comment and let me know of things I have missed or misrepresented.

But why revisit all these old customs and traditions? Well, because I think they are interesting, and because those that are still observed are usually a whole lot of fun!

I have also written a small book, or booklet, about one such custom - the burning of the ashen faggot - which is still observed in certain parts of the west country. Here is a small excerpt...

Burning the Ashen Faggot

The pondrous Ashen Faggot from the yard. The jolly farmer to his crowded hall. Conveys with speed; where, on the rising flames (already fed with store of massy brands). It blazes soon; nine bandages it bears, And as they each disjoin (so custom wills), A mighty jug of sparkling cyder's brought, With brandy mixt to elevate the guests.
1795, author unknown.

Devon, modern times

Step into a number of pubs and country houses across the West Country this Christmas Eve and you would be forgiven for thinking you had stepped back in time, possibly by a good two or three hundred years or more. As traditions go, the burning of the Ashen Faggot is not the best known, but it does still have some link to our modern celebrations – the sickly-sweet chocolate Yule log that is itself becoming a thing of the past.

What links an ancient West Country tradition, involving pubs, faggots, song and good cheer with a chocolate dessert you might wonder? To answer that we have to delve back in time to the world of the Saxon and the Viking, and even to the tree of life itself. What today is a communal celebration uniting Christmas cheer, old tradition, carols, song and, of course, a liberal sprinkling of alcohol, has a story that involves the infant Jesus’ first bath, bulls, merry maidens, wassailing and roast boar – although not necessarily in that order...

Having experienced this custom at first-hand a number of times, I can whole heartedly recommend it - if you have a hearth, or fireplace, big enough! More soon...