A Moment in Time

A Moment In Time

    Today I thought I’d do something different and tell you a story about my great, great, grand-mother. Back in the late 1800’s, or so I’m told, when the family still lived in Suffolk, they owned a small farm and she, being unmarried and in her early twenties had caught the eye of a member of the ‘landed gentry’ who was somewhat wealthy because of his overseas interests and dealings. They courted, much in the fashion of the day, and eventually became engaged then married. 

   Now, the family history for some reason doesn’t say much about the honeymoon- how long for or even where – in all likelihood it was probably somewhere on the coast there and when finished they went to live in his house which was a large, country-style mansion…you can imagine the sort of thing- sweeping lawns , servants, etc. By all accounts they were happy in their life and settled down nicely. 

   Time passed, and as it happened business matters arose – not for the better- and this necessitated trips abroad to be taken by her husband who began to be gone for longer and longer periods of time which did cause problems, but nothing insurmountable. However, as the diary she kept tells us, he had warned her not to intrude on a room at the top of the house that he kept reserved for his own private needs- even the servants were banned from entering- and it was kept locked at all times. 

   Loneliness, boredom, and curiosity are mentioned several times in her journal- at least those parts that survived the passing years and are still readable – and so it seems she became fascinated by the thought of what could be hidden in that room. Knowing where it was she often climbed the narrow, almost secret, stairs that led to the door and stared at it – perhaps imagining sounds or movements behind it and from what we can make out it preyed upon her mind to the point where whenever her husband was away – despite her promising him never to pry into its contents- she would go there to do this albeit she never gained entrance for he had the key well- hidden, even from her.

   Time passed, yet her yearning to discover the secret did not …and as it happened one day her husband was called away for a business meeting that meant he would be gone for at least a month and with the urgency of the situation he left in some haste- and she somehow observed him hiding the key to the door – being in such a rush he had not been as careful as perhaps he should have been, who can say ? 

   Farewells were said, he left, and she retired to their bedroom with said key. In her diary she stated quite clearly of her feelings of guilt at even having taken it for the promise she had given weighed heavily on her mind yet, after a few days, she took it to the door. You may, or may not be, surprised to learn that she did not open it at first- fear of discovery and its consequences possibly prevented her to begin with-being honest we can only guess at her reasons and the state of her mind at this stage. 

   It took, from her recorded thoughts, several trips up and down those stairs before she finally succumbed to temptation and one night, after the servants had all retired to their quarters and she was certain that no one would observe her actions she ascended them once more with only the light of a candle to guide her. 

   Outside, even though the weather was fine, it was quite windy, or so we’re told, and being up in the top of the house it possibly caused a few creaks and groans to issue from the rafters in the roof which can’t have made her feel any better as she approached the door in the shadows and, after a few moments of thought, unlocked it before entering.

With only the light of that candle, from what we can make out, the room was still cloaked in a darkness that meant nothing was visible and so she was forced to take very careful steps as she progressed further inside lest she trip or knock something over- the risk of discovery no doubt still in her head. 

  

We know from what was left for us to read, although as mentioned before not all of it is readable- the wind rose and as it blew through the eaves of the roof it caused the door to close and the candle flickered before going out. Having no way to relight it she was left in absolute darkness with no way to find her way out unless she took the risk of groping about blindly until she found a wall or the door. It was then, apparently, that she heard a low moaning the sound of something dragging itself across the floor towards her.

   And, if I ever find out what happened next, I’ll let you know.

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

D W Storer

2018 / 2019

Black Shuck - Hound of Hell?

Black Shuck - Hound of Hell? 

   

Black Shuck

    Black Shuck, sometimes known as ‘Old Shuck’, ‘Old Shuck’ or even just ‘Shuck’ is a legendary ghostly black dog appearing in English legends that is said to roam the coastline and countryside of East Anglia. Tales of the animal are found, for the most part, in Norfolk, Suffolk, the Cambridgeshire fens and Essex.

    One tale in particular springs to mind, that of its appearance on the 4^th of August 1577 at Bungay and Blythburgh, and it is possibly the most well -known report of the creature in which reports of the beast charging in through the entrance of St Mary's Church in Bungay, accompanied by the obligatory peals of thunder, then running up the nave, past the congregation, killing a man and boy en- route, before somehow causing the church steeple to collapse through the roof. After this the tale relates further that its rampage continued as it then ran on to Blythburgh Church where it attacked and killed more people.  Some local accounts claim it to be the work of the Devil and, strangely enough there are scorch marks still visible on the church doors there which are still called by the locals "the devil’s fingerprints"

    The event is remembered, quite darkly, in this verse -
"All down the church in midst of fire, the hellish monster flew, and, passing onward to the quire, he many people slew".

      Bungay Coat of Arms-

The Latin may loosely be translated as

‘Our ways have stood the test of time’

  

    One description, by W A Dutt, in his 1901 book ‘Highways & Byways in East reads, ‘He takes the form of a huge black dog, and prowls along dark lanes and lonesome field footpaths, where, although his howling makes the hearer's blood run cold, his footfalls make no sound. You may know him at once, should you see him, by his fiery eye; he has but one, and that, like the Cyclops', is in the middle of his head. But such an encounter might bring you the worst of luck: it is even said that to meet him is to be warned that your death will occur before the end of the year. So you will do well to shut your eyes if you hear him howling; shut them even if you are uncertain whether it is the dog fiend or the voice of the wind you hear. Should you never set eyes on our Norfolk ‘Snarleyow’ you may perhaps doubt his existence, and, like other learned folks, tell us that his story is nothing but the old Scandinavian myth of the black hound of Odin, brought to us by the Vikings who long ago settled down on the Norfolk coast’

    

‘Scorched claw marks’ of Black Shuck on the
 Church door, Holy Trinity Blythburgh

   Despite this dark tale there are, as with most legends, variants not only on the appearance of the beast but as to its nature too.  In the most southerly point of sightings, the Maldon and Dengie area of Essex, to witness the appearance of Black Shuck signifies an almost immediate death yet other stories tell of Black Shuck merely terrifying his victims but leaving them otherwise unharmed, whilst some portray him as being benign even escorting women on their way home to protect them and even helping lost travellers find their way home.

   There are Black Dogs in most regions folklore, Devon has its ‘Yeth Hound’ (or Yell Hound) - a headless dog, said to be the spirit of an unbaptised child, that rambles through the woods at night making wailing noises. It is also mentioned in the Denham Tracts, a 19th-century collection of folklore by Michael Denham. It may have been one inspiration for the ghost dog in The Sherlock Holme’s story ‘The Hound of the Baskervilles’ that roamed Dartmoor by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle which was described as ‘an enormous coal-black hound, but not such a hound as mortal eyes have ever seen with fire in his eyes and breath’

    In the same region can be found the tales of the ‘Wisht’ or Wish Hounds, which may well be another version of the Yeth Hounds. Wistman's Wood on Dartmoor in southern Devon is said to be their home and it from there that they are said to scour the lands in search of prey with their preferred haunts being Abbot's Way (a road) and the valley of the Dewerstone. There is even a tale that tells of  the ghost of Sir Francis Drake driving a black hearse coach on the road between Tavistock and Plymouth at night, drawn by headless horses and accompanied by demons and a pack of headless yelping hounds.

   Sidney Paget's illustration of The Hound of the Baskervilles

    As to be expected, tales of ‘Black Dogs’ can be found across the world- and yes all the legends seem to be very , very similar . A shared memory or purely down to ideas spreading as cultures intermixed?  Something to ponder on. Saying that , if you have any thoughts on this , or local legends to share please feel free to post them up here in the comment box and ...if you're feeling kindly disposed towards this blog please share it and / or recommend it to all and any who you think may like it . 

Many thanks

D W Storer 2018/2019