Legends of Dozmary Pool

My recent post about Tintagel with its connection to King Arthur raised many questions, not least of which was the location of the lake where he found, and later returned, his sword Excalibur. This being one of the most iconic moments in European legend, I thought it might be fun to look at this.

Sir Thomas Malory in his book “Le Morte D’Arthur” which was first printed by Thomas Caxton in 1485 described it thus: “therefore, said Arthur, take Excalibur, my good sword, and go with it to yonder water-side, and when thou comest there, I charge thee throw my sword in that water”.           

This was in the year 537 A.D.

So, let us imagine an area in the remote south-west of England about 10,000 years ago. Today this place is called Bodmin Moor and in those far-off days it was populated by hunter-gatherers who wandered over the heavily wooded land, just scraping a living through their wits and cunning. It was only in later ages, about 3000 B.C. that farmers began to clear the trees in search of a more settled existence, and it was in the subsequent millenia that the building started of what we now see as eerie remains of their lives. Stone circles, monumental cairns, stone rows and barrows and burial sites began to dominate the landscape. It is these, and the wild and treeless moorland which give off that eerily haunted feeling, and in winter when the storms rage and the mist settles over everything there is a sinister and fearful ambience where the spirits of the past are almost physical in their presence.

In the heart of this wilderness lies Dozmary Pool, a lake which is glacial in its origins and is where legend tells us the Lady of the Lake both gave, and later received, Excalibur.

But this is not all. On windy,stormy nights the screams of desperate misery and the howls of hounds can be heard. Many say it is just the particular keening of the wind as it swirls past the stones and burial grounds, but others say that it is the eternal torment of Jan Tregeagle. His story is that in earthly life, in the start of the seventeenth century he made a pact with the Devil for material gain, and when he died his soul was forfeit. Tregeagle’s punishment was to sit by the Lake in perpetuity until he had emptied all the water using a limpet shell which had been holed. And at his feet were a pack of hounds to snap and bite him whenever he tired. But it doesn’t end there.

Legend has it that he managed to escape on one particularly dark and storm-tossed night. Now, occasionally, crossing the moors, can be seen a phantom hunt with hounds baying in pursuit of a fleeing figure, all making a truly ghostly cacophony with the wind and thunder.

Finally, this whole area of Bodmin has inspired countless generations of writers and film producers. Who has not read Jamaica Inn by Daphne Du Maurier? So a visit to this place is a must...but try to get there in the depths of winter to get its maximum atmosphere.

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In Association with the Western Gazette 

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The Soldiers’ Ghosts

As my recent article about Glamis Castle reached a very large number of readers, I thought it might be fun to travel west a few miles, across some of the most spectacular and dramatic country in Scotland.

The scene... Mountains, ravines, wooded slopes and tumbling, churning rivers which have carved their way through the rocks since time began.

The time... It is 1689 and a ferocious battle has erupted in the peace of this unspoilt country.

The place... The wild pass of Killicrankie in Perthshire.

The battle... This was a savage action between approximately 3500 Government troops and about 2500 Highlanders who were loyal to their deposed King      James VII. These Highlanders were the Jacobites, Jacobus being the latin for James. The Jacobites held the high ground, and the truly awe-inspiring sight of hordes of Highlanders swarming down the hill in an avalanche of colour and blood-curdling sounds immediately put the Government troops to flight. The Highlanders then went to work with sword and knife. Indeed, such was the terror they inspired that one Government soldier, totally overcome with fear, jumped 18 feet over the banks of the river Garry and thus escaped. This place is now immortalised with the name “Soldiers Leap”. But when the sun started to sink, the Jacobites had claimed a stunning victory with the dead and dying littering the once-tranquil pass.

The ghosts... In about two weeks on July 27th, on the anniversary of the battle, a red glowing light might gently bathe the area in what feels like a sorrowful tribute to the horrors still embedded in the rocks and trees. This has been noted before and it is as if the blood of violent death, having a memory, is re-visiting.

And often at dusk, the spirits of troops marching through the pass have been seen, suddenly appearing, only to disappear moments later. It is as if a time slip has occurred for those lucky (?) enough to be there at that precise moment.

And there have been heard shots and volleys of musket fire with momentary glimpses of dead soldiers sprawled in the agonies of death.

Finally... this is a wonderful place to visit where a real connection to the past can be felt.

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In Association with the Western Gazette 

You can also read this short story at the Western Gazette website. Click here to follow me and be the first to know when I publish my next article, short story or book review.
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P J Cadavori's Catacombs of the Damned book and e-book is available at Amazon:

 

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Guildford’s Ghostly Waters

There is an ageless lake just a few miles from Guildford in Surrey which has a history of pagan religion that extends back beyond the distant beginnings of myths and legends. In those aeons of pre-history certain pools of water had a religious significance which dominated the lives of early man. This is such a place. It is known as The Silent Pool.

It is best to go there in winter when you might see it in solitude. On a cold early morning when the mist is rising from the water and swirling around the trees which surround it, you get a real feeling of melancholic stillness with the link to pre-history being never stronger. This pool existed before the Druids, but they later made it their own and it continued as a sacred area well into the thirteenth century.

At that time the whole of that part of Surrey was untamed woodland and close to the pool lived a forester whose wife had died from illness several years previously. He lived there with his young daughter, Emma, and his son who together barely scraped a living. One day a horseman rode past, and is so often the case with those who have very little, he was invited in to share what refreshments the forester had. Meanwhile Emma was bathing in the lake, while her brother was hunting nearby in the woodlands for small animals to help the family survive the winter. When the horseman left, he saw the beautiful Emma bathing and as was the custom in those lawless days he felt it was his right to have his way with her. So he rode his horse into the waters in pursuit. She fled deeper and deeper into the lake while her brother responded quickly to her screams by diving into the waters to help protect her. But to no avail. Both of the children soon drowned, while the horseman retreated to dry land and galloped off.

The horseman was reputed to be King John, who had been ruling while Richard was at the Crusades.

But the story does not end there. The father was so upset when he recovered the bodies that he devoted the rest of his life to seeking revenge. He found out who the horseman was and eventually managed to get an audience with the King. He naturally enough had forgotten the incident and agreed that the perpetrator should be punished. King John was then told that he was the perpetrator. Unfortunately legend does not tell us what happened next, although it was rumoured that the Barons, who were seriously outraged by the King’s general behaviour, used this incident, amongst many others, as a lever to force the reduction of the King’s powers which resulted in the Magna Carta.

But now to modern times...

Many visitors complain of a brooding silence while standing near the edge of the pool. This gives off an aura which seems to threaten, the calmness of the waters being so intense that it radiates a haunted feeling of great eeriness. And often a body has been seen floating beneath the water, a pale shape which rises to the surface. And there are screams and sobs for help which make the hair stand on end. Dogs fear the place. Animals are always able to sense these things.

Then there is the mystery of Agatha Christie’s disappearance in the middle of the winter of 1926. Her car was found close to the pool. But she never did say what she was doing for those three famous “missing” days.

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In Association with the Western Gazette 

You can also read this short story at the Western Gazette website. Click here to follow me and be the first to know when I publish my next article, short story or book review.
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P J Cadavori's Catacombs of the Damned book and e-book is available at Amazon:

 

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Deadlight by Lasher Lane

Deadlight by Lasher Lane
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I found an instant affinity with this book. I was living in rural Indiana in 1968 and found in Deadlight a deep recollection of the Vietnam war, the drug culture of the 60s and the coming of age of America.

But yet this book is so much more. It deals, in quiet sympathy with the hopeless yearnings of those stranded in out-of-the-way places; of the building and subsequent sudden loss of friendships and family; and the inability of established religion to give support and strength to essentially lonely lives and describes the man-made pillars like alcohol which provide a replacement. It also deals with great sensitivity with the unexplained influences and omens which we all meet in our lives and the sadness which comes from ignoring them.

Lasher Lane writes with a thoughtful elegance which it is impossible to get tired of. This is a really good book which needs a thorough second reading so that every paragraph can be contemplated and enjoyed.

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A story of sex, murder and ghosts... in Surrey

Hidden away by the Thames is a seventeenth century masterpiece where behind its wonderful facade lurk dark and murderous secrets. Built in 1610 for the eldest son of James I, this is Ham House. But rumours started immediately with whispers of murder after the mysterious death of the young Prince. So, some years later, this was a suitable introduction to the new owners; the villainous Duchess of Lauderdale who while married was reputed to be the mistress of Oliver Cromwell who perhaps fathered one of her many children. Being a woman of enormous appetite she was also the lover of the Duke of Lauderdale whom she subsequently married after the death... murder? ...of her first husband. It is said that, in her old age, she can be heard tottering about the corridors with her stick tapping on the wooden floorboards on an endless search for some long lost secret.

But the “main event” so to speak occurred about 100 years later. This involved a six year old girl who was visiting the house. She awoke early in the morning to see an old crone scrabbling at the wall by the fireplace. When the old woman sensed she was being watched, she turned around and glided to the child’s bed and stared at her in a most terrifying manner. The girl’s screams brought help from the others in the house, but they saw no sign of the old woman. They then examined the wall and found papers in a hidden compartment which proved that the Duchess had murdered her husband in that very room in order to marry the Duke of Lauderdale.

On a lighter note, there is a phantom spaniel whose claws can be heard on the floorboards as it runs around. It has also been seen outside the house perhaps searching for its owner, who history doesn’t record.

Ham House is definitely worth seeing, although visitors are not allowed to stay overnight. I’m told that this is for administrative reasons, but I wonder if this is just a diplomatic ruse to keep ghosts and tourists apart?

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