And Things That Go Bump In The Night

In Somerset there is a farm, Higher Chilton Farm at a placed called Chilton Cantelo.

On the 18th August in the year 1670 the owner of the farm died at the age of sixty-nine. On his deathbed he requested that his head should be removed from his body and should be preserved in the house for evermore. His name was Theophilus Broome.

During the English Civil War he had been against the monarchy and supported the Roundheads. He had originally lived in Warwickshire but after the war ended he moved to Somerset. He was fearful of retribution and he had no wish to share the fate of Oliver Cromwell whose body was disinterred, hanged at Tyburn and eventually consigned to the rubbish dump, his head having been displayed on a pole.

So, Broome’s wishes were carried out and his skull was kept in the farmhouse.

Any attempt to move it or rebury it were met with horrible noises, groans and screams.

Broome’s tomb, located in the north transept of Chilton Cantelo church, was opened and the skeleton inside was indeed found to be minus its head, thus authenticating the story.

That last attempt at burial was somewhere in the 1860’s when a sexton dug the grave personally in the churchyard with a view to giving the skull a proper resting place once and for all but, just as he completed the digging, his spade snapped violently into two pieces and he heard a piercing scream. He vowed “never more to attempt an act so evidently repugnant to the quiet of Broome’s head.”

In 1977 some researchers examined the skull, two of them moving it around with their bare hands and making jokes about it. On the way back to London one of the men thought he saw a car coming straight towards him and he swerved and crashed, injuring himself. There was no oncoming car. The other man was badly burned in an accident. Both men were convinced that their misfortunes were the result of handling the skull.

The skull is usually kept in a cabinet specially made for it over a door in the hall of the farm where is has been for well over two hundred years.

England has several “screaming skulls” - at Bettiscombe, Warbleton Priory, Chapel-en-le Frith and Wardley Hall to mention several,  but one of the most famous is the skull at Burton Agnes Hall.

This wonderful Elizabeth house was built by Sir Henry Griffin between 1598 and 1610. Sir Henry had three daughters, the youngest of them was Anne. Anne had watched the building of the house and could talk and think of little else. It was to be the most beautiful house that had ever been built. She was totally in love with the place. She loved living there. One afternoon she went to visit some friends who lived about a mile away. Halfway home she saw some men under  trees at the side of the road. Feeling uneasy she hid her hands thus disguising her diamond rings. Unfortunately one of the men had already noticed. They approached her and asked for her jewellery in return for her safe passage but when she resisted they beat her with a cudgel and fled. Anne managed to crawl as far as the gateway of her beloved home where she was found by a servant. She was taken to her bedroom but was so badly injured that she died about five days later.

Sometimes, delirious, sometimes sensible, she told her sisters she would never rest if she had to leave her beloved home. She wanted some part of her to remain in the house and requested that her head should be removed and preserved in the hall forever.

Her family were appalled and could not bring themselves to do as she requested. She was buried in the churchyard. That night her ghost walked the corridors and scared the wits out of everyone as, not only did they see her, but the night was filled with loud wailing noises and banging doors. Nobody could sleep. She was seen night after night and, in the end, the family consulted the local vicar. They agreed to open the grave. They received a shock when they were faced with Anne’s bare skull grinning at them whilst the rest of her body was intact. Anne’s head was removed and taken into her home. All the noises stopped immediately.

Many years later, another family moved into the house. They wanted no part of the skull and got their maid to throw it into a cart containing rubbish. The horse pulling the cart bucked and reared, seemed very afraid and no amount of whipping could get it to move. On another occasion Anne’s skull was buried somewhere in the gardens. For days afterwards the Hall was plagued by shrieks and screams, banging and hammering until the skull was located again.

It was eventually encased into one of the walls of the Hall where it remains to this day. Some say it is behind the portrait of Anne that is on the main staircase. It is also said that now and then her ghost can be seen coming from the portrait and down the staircase, where she walks through the house and then disappears into the garden. She is thought to be visiting once more the rooms of the home she loved so much.

What was that?  As I am sitting here typing this I can hear a strange noise.  Probably Mike, oh wait - Mike is out with the dogs.  So what is that strange shuffling noise, that heavy breathing sound,  oh God the room has gone so cold, Mike is that you, answer me, is that you?  Oh no, oh my God it can't be, it is in the hall and it is coming towards me, sweat is trickling down my body, icy sweat, my heart is racing and thumping.  Help me, somebody help me...........................oh please help.  Oh ...........

there for a moment.  Well, it is Halloween!!!

 

Coming Along

Another weekend gone.  I hope you all remembered to change your clocks.  I do not care much for it being dark around 5 p.m.

Well, him indoors has been hard at work over the last couple of days, bless him.  He has still got such a bad cold/bug whatever it is.  Mine has improved a lot but not gone completely.  Anyway he soldiered on as he wanted to get on with the kitchen. 

As I said in a previous entry, we had a dresser in one corner so our kitchen never truly matched.  A pine dresser with grey work surfaces and tiles never did sit easy with me.  However, it was here when we came, the previous owner left it and it was handy for all our china. Although it looked better with the new surfaces, him indoors was still not happy and decided he wanted to build something that would blend in totally.

Here is what we had:-

Here is what we now have:-

Plenty of shelf space, a surface that matches all the others. This is how it looks with the doors closed:-

We have, at the moment, only one problem.  Mike has been unable to find knobs that remotely match what we already have.  I suppose it was to be expected bearing in mind that our current ones have been there years.  So, it might mean having to replace all the knobs - all twenty-six of them which is something we had not bargained for!  He is going to have another hunt, we might strike lucky yet.

Next weekend the new cooker is going in.  I have mixed feelings.  I am happy to have a new cooker of course, but all my life I have cooked with gas.  This new one is electric and I am going to have to adapt to that and learn all the temperatures.  I suppose it is what you are used to and with gas prices the way that they are, we might be slightly better off with the bills.  I still have my gas hob.  So next Saturday, the electrics will be off for most of the day.  Oh, what will I do without my computer!!!!  However, it will be worth it because then the kitchen will actually be finished.

Now we can actually start putting things back in the kitchen, everything has had to be stored in other rooms and when you live in a small bungalow that is no joke.

I was so pleased over the weekend. I had a contact from Friends Re-United.  A lot of the girls I remember from school do not appear on that site and others that do I only knew vaguely.  I was so happy then to hear from Doreen B.  We went to the same schools and were in the same classes from the age of five until we left school at almost seventeen.  Imagine how stunned I was to find out that for many years, she has been living quite close to me!!  Well, only about twenty minutes drive away.  Hopefully we can meet when we have finished doing what we need to do to our home.  She remembered my Mother's Pekingese dog, our family home and talked about the school plays.  She was a good friend of mine and I am so happy to be in contact with her again after so very many years.  She has just become a grandmother and has already sent me her picture (I would still have known her) and she is in the photo with her daughter and beautiful Grand-daughter.  I have been a member of Friends for several years and, after all this time, I never expected this.

Well, I have some mirrors and other glass to clean, so I had better get off here and do something to show willing as him indoors is busy putting everything back in the kitchen and it is making me feel guilty (well just a little)

Wishing you all a good week.

Saturday Smile

I think we have all read/seen what is going on between Sir Paul McCartney and Heather.

It is not for me to make judgements or voice any opinion on the situation.  However, I did see something that made me laugh last week.  It was in one on the daily papers and I found myself humming the tune as I read the words so I decided to share it with you today.

To be sung to the tune of Eleanor Rigby:-

Ah, look at all that lovely money
Ah, look at all that lovely money.

Heather McCartney picks up a cheque every week from a bank in the Strand
Isn't life grand?
Look at her shopping, lunching with ladies in frocks costing ten thousand pounds.
Trebles all round.

All this lovely money, where did it all come from?
All this lovely money, where did it all come from?

Father McCartney, writing the words to the songs that we all love to hear
For at least forty years.
Millions of dollars, to a monoped model he married one day on a whim.
More fool him.

All this lovely money, that's where it all came from.
All this lovely money, that's where it all came from.

Ah, look at all those wealthy lawyers.
Ah, look at all those wealthy lawyers.

Heather McCartney married a Beatle and took him for all that he had.
Isn't it sad?
There go the royalties, over the counter at Prada and Christian Dior.
What was it for?

All that lovely money, where did it all go wrong?
All that lovely money, where did it all go wrong?

Courtesy of The Daily Mail.

A chilly, windy and gloomy day here today.  The clocks go back this weekend so we have the long dark evenings to look forward to now.  It is still much milder than it should be, many of the trees still have their leaves and we had had no frosts at all.  All indications so far are for a mild winter.

The forest fires raging in America are terrible and my heart goes out to all the people who are affected.  To think the fires were started deliberately and that four firemen have already lost their lives.  I just cannot understand the mentality of some people.  I hope it will be possible to catch those responsible.

Mike has now taken the dresser out of the kitchen and has the bottom cupboard built already.  Today he will be continuing on the top part. We still have to buy the doors but he might wait until it is all constructed first.  I am glad you all enjoyed our new look.

Whilst he is busy, I might curl up with a book.  On the other hand, I have a couple of DVD's to watch. We were both up late last night/early hours of this morning, so I will probably fall asleep!

Kitchen Transformation

We disliked the kitchen when we first moved here.  Grey tiles, grey work-surfaces, on a gloomy day it was like working in a dungeon.  It was a job we always intended to get around to, we would put money aside - well, you know how it is - something always came along that was more urgent.

So, more than twelve years on we were still stuck with it. Once Mike retired, money got much tighter but we  got to the point where we just could not stand it anymore.   So, as I mentioned in a previous entry, Mike and Dean got to work on it last weekend.

It is still not finished.  We have an old dresser in one corner that was here when we came.  Mike is going to remove it and put in a matching work-surface and matching cupboards. He has the flu bug at the moment so that has been put on hold for a few days. We also have to get a new cooker when funds will allow.  Now, it is so bright and sunny out there.  A job well done. 

This is how it looked  with the grey tiles and surfaces:-

Re-Tiling would have been a huge job.  When you start taking off tiles, you often find you have to re-plaster the walls and then there is all the cutting of the tiles to fit.  We decided to try tile paint.  We had heard of it but never knew anyone who had used it.  We are very pleased.  It gives a wonderful shine and it is also chip proof, has teflon in it. Here you can see the difference as it was put on:-

New surfaces being added:-

Men at work:-

Mike puts down new flooring:-

Starting to look much better:-

As it is now:-

I think you will agree it was well worth the trouble.  A few more tweaks here and there is all it needs now.  It is now a pleasure to walk into.

Many thanks to our wonderful Dean.  Mike simply could not have done it all without him and he gave up his weekend to help.  He has a very busy and stressful job but still volunteered his services.  It was also Becky's birthday and she agreed to him coming as well.  We have a daughter and son-in-law in a million.

Now, we have to start on the bathroom, that is a job we are really dreading.  Hopefully we will be able to get it done in time for Christmas. We shall just have to see about that.

Wishing you all a great weekend.

P.S. to previous entry

A couple of my American friends, having watched the video I posted in my main today's entry,  have commented that we drive on the wrong side of the road.  Yes, we drive on the left.  But who is right and who is wrong.  Could it be that you are driving on the wrong side? lol.

Susie left a comment about her mother and an unexploded bomb and she reminded me of something that happened to us.  When we moved to this area and into the haunted bungalow I have written about before, it took time to settle in.  The removal men had placed some items in the loft for us.  One weekend my father went up there to get something. It was quite dark so he was shining his torch around when the light fell on an object.  It was a bomb.

My father, having served in the forces during WW2 saw immediately that it was intact and unexploded.  How it got there we will never know.  He immediately phoned the police.

Well, we expected the army bomb disposal squad to arrive, screaming sirens, the area cordoned off.  You know, the whole works.  A couple of hours went by before a Bobby (a policeman) knocked at the door.  Just him.  Somehow he and my father got the bomb down and out into the street and then..........................the policeman calmly placed it into the basket of a bicycle and slowly cycled off!!!!!! We imagine he got wherever he was supposed to take it safely because we never heard any explosion although with the weight of the bomb at the front, he did wobble very badly.

Can you imagine something like that happening if a bomb was found today?

Death In A Market Town + Video

It was a July afternoon in 1943. The place - a quiet market town only a couple of miles away from me. The skies were clear. Enemy bombers had been seen flying overhead earlier in the day but they were intent on dropping their loads elsewhere.

Lunchtime was just over. Nurse Mitchell was preparing her patient for a pleasant afternoon stroll. Mr. Archibald B. was dressed in his pyjamas and dressing gown and had his cloth cap on his head. Nurse Mitchell and Mrs. B. helped him into his invalid chair and covered his legs with a woollen blanket and a travelling rug and two pillows were placed at his back.

The nurse and the patient then set off for their outing. Archibald B. was never going to come back.

Archibald B. was born in 1896. His family owned the local windmill and ran their business from there. Archibald married Dorothy in 1922 and they had two sons, Eric born in 1923 and Colin born in 1927. On the death of his father, Archibald B. took over the running of the family business. Several years earlier Archibald had been involved in a motor cycle accident. It caused permanent spinal damage and possibly brain damage because he suffered a change in personality

The family lived in a substantial home close by the windmill. As the years passed, Archibald became increasingly more difficult. He became a grumpy invalid and expected Dorothy to do everything for him without any help. She hired private nurses but he complained about each one and dismissed them. That is until nurse Mitchell came along. He took a liking to her and allowed her to stay.

By now son Eric was working in a bank (I have been in the branch many times) However, his behaviour was erratic, he would be rude to customers, burst into tears for no reason, bang his hands up and down on the counter and was not liked by his co-workers. There was also the matter of missing cheques and he stole money and stamps. He could give no explanation and immediately returned the money. The bank dismissed him and did not press charges. He was a loner who did not mix with other people. In 1942 he was called up to serve his country and joined the army. He must have found the life hard in the services where camaraderie was the norm. The following year he applied for compassionate leave due to his father’s declining health. He was granted three months leave to sort out the family business and find someone reliable to run it.

Then came the day in July. Nurse Mitchell was walking along, chatting to her patient. He decided he wanted a cigarette and began fumbling in his dressing gown pocket. Nurse Mitchell stopped, walked around in front of him and helped him to light his cigarette. He then settled himself back down in the chair. The next thing Nurse Mitchell knew, was a sense of tremendous heat, the smell of her own hair burning and not being able to hear much. The invalid chair had exploded. The nurse look down to see her legs covered in blood. Then she heard a thump she was never to forget. Looking around she saw the torso of Archibald B. lying in the roadway. He had been severed at the waist. Nurse Mitchell began screaming at the top of her voice.

The remains of the invalid chair

Help was soon on hand. She was taken to hospital. The pillows had shielded her from most of the blast. One of Archibald’s legs was found 48 feet away in a front garden, the other was hanging from a tree in the churchyard. Enemy action was ruled out. It was obviously a case of murder and the police had to start looking closer to home.

The police superintendent questioned Dorothy B. It transpired that things were a little less than normal that day. The invalid chair was normally kept in a shelter outside. When the nurse went to get it, she discovered that the inner door was locked which it had never been before. She went to get the key from Dorothy. Both women returned together only to meet with Eric emerging from inside. He said he had been looking for something. They had no idea he was in there.

Piecing the debris together from the murder scene, it was determined that the explosion had been caused by a Hawkins no.75 anti-tank landmine. Eric had been trained in the assembly and ignition of mines. The police conducted experiments which showed that such a mine placed under the seat of an identical chair would not be noticed. Eric was taken to the police station where he signed a voluntary confession. He was then arrested and charged with murder.

A lot more information emerged after his arrest. Dorothy had not wanted to say much but truth will out. Archibald had loved his younger son but had taken a dislike to Eric from when the boy was very young. He would hit his son under any pretext and constantly make his life hell. He was locked in dark cupboards or made to run up and down the hallway until he fell from exhaustion. His father then sent him away to boarding school where he failed to thrive. Dorothy did not fare much better. Archibald forbade her even to see her own mother. When she bought him food, he would throw it on the floor, constantly ring a bell to keep summoning her for such trivial things as his not liking the way a certain flower was positioned in a vase. In the last two years of his life he threw hot tea over her, tore her clothes and even tried to strangle her.  Dorothy B. had written to Eric telling him some of what she was undergoing.

Eric B. said in court that for years his mother’s life had become a complete drudgery and he had decided that the only way in which she could lead a normal life and for his father to be released from his sufferings was for him to die mercifully. Arguments then raged as to whether Eric was sane and if he knew what he was doing at the time. Three relatives had been mentally unstable, including his grandfather and great-grandfather. One of them committed suicide. Eric would often talk in a slow and halting matter and break off in mid sentence and go into a sort of trance. At other times he said he had done God’s will. He made a feeble attempt at suicide whilst in jail awaiting trial.

The defence said he was clearly unstable but there was a great difference between being unstable and actually insane. There is no doubt he had a personality disorder. In the end the jury returned the verdict that Eric B. was guilty of the murder of his father but was insane. He was committed to an asylum.

Nurse Mitchell returned to nursing although she walked with a limp and was left with a disabled arm.

Eric was neither unobservant nor unintelligent. He was clever enough to pilfer money from the bank, clever enough to plan the murder in advance, to steal the mine from the army stores, to rig it so that it would go off only if there was a shifting of weight of the person sitting above it. He had also shown a lot of sympathy towards his father in the previous two years,trying to win his favour. On the other hand he showed a total disregard for human life. He said he loved his mother and wanted to improve her lot and yet he knew that she and the nurse routinely put his father into the chair ready for his daily walk. His mother and the nurse could both have been killed and what about any innocent bystanders?

Was it simply years of pent up hatred and rage at his own treatment by his father? He also stood to inherit the family business if his father was out of the way. As bread was an essential during the war and the mill would have been active, he would probably have been able to leave the army. Maybe his father's liking for Nurse Mitchell angered Eric when he saw what his mother had to bear. We can only speculate as to what his true motives were.

This murder remains the only one ever carried out by means of  an anti-tank mine.

Eric was released in 1975 and disappeared  into obscurity. He may still be alive.

You have read the story of a local murder, now perhaps you would like to see where it actually happened:-

As you can hear from the video, I am still battling this cold.

Have a good day everyone.

The Witch Of Wookey Hole

Cheddar Gorge in Somerset is the largest gorge in England and is renowned for its caves. Cheddar is also famous for its delicious cheese. The view from the top of the Gorge, after climbing Jacob's Ladder, is breathtaking.

There are two vast caves here, Gough's and Cox's.  The caves are spectacular places to visit. The many stalactites and stalacmites, frozen rivers (turned to stone) and much of the rock looking like melted candle wax.  It is amazing what the power of water can do given millions of years.  The caves are illuminated by coloured lights and it is like a wonderland, you are truly in another world.  I must admit though, I would not like to be alone in them

The oldest recorded skeleton has been found here dating back over 9,000 years. Known as Cheddar Man little is known about him except for the fact he died a violent death, and there are signs on the bones of cannabalism. Going by wall paintings and artefacts found they know the caves have been inhabited for over 400,000 years.  Other bones have shown signs of cannabalism as well.  The people lived in holes in the walls of the caves.  Maybe they ate some of the flesh of their deceased relatives as a way of gaining their strengh and wisdom.  Maybe it was a tribal custom, some sort of ritual magic, or maybe they had no choice but to use other people as a food source when times were hard.  We shall never know.

Wookey Hole is famous for its witch. Here is the story. A witch was once supposed to live in the caves. She was very beautiful indeed but she used the black arts and , as a punishment, she became old before her time, turning from a beauty into a hunched, ugly, twisted and toothless old crone. When she saw young lovers she went into a complete fury for, try as she might, none of her magical arts could restore her good looks.

One days a pair of lovers lingered near her, eyes only for each other. The witch became even more demented and vowed to break their love. She worked in a frenzy conjuring up evil spirits, using every ounce of her powers to bring her plan about. She succeeded and the young couple parted. The young man, heartbroken at being separated from his one true love, turned his back on the world and became a monk at Glastonbury Abbey.

Later, he learned that it was all due to the work of the evil witch of Wookey Hole. She had destroyed his love. So he decided to set about combating the forces of evil and with the blessing of his Abbot, he set out to defeat the witch with a cross of holy wood and a phial of holy water. When the witch eventually showed herself, the young man threw the holy water into her face, raised the wooden cross and prayed as he had never prayed before. The witch uttered one last terrible and blood-curdling scream and turned to stone. Her black, misshapen form can still be seen to this day.

The witch is the black form at the front.

There is a cottage on the Wookey estate that has long been haunted. Strange and unpleasant smells, banging noises, a sound as if someone is crawling along on their hands and knees, doors opening and slamming by themselves, an awful feeling of unease, a shadowy form walking through walls, the touch of a cold hand. No explanation has ever been found.

The legend of the witch of Wookey Hole was handed down from generation to generation over many centuries. A nice legend, a fantasy, something to scare the children with when they misbehaved.  A tale to be told on a dark and stormy night..........except.....

In 1912 excavations on the site uncovered parts of a skeleton of a very ancient female. Beside the skeleton lay a dagger, a knife, a weaving comb, the bones of two goats and a witch ball! The sort of ball that witches used for scrying, seeing into the future.  They do say that all legends are based on truth.  So maybe a witch truly did exist at Wookey Hole and remains trapped there to this very day.

Don't have nightmares.  Unless that lump of black rock suddenly starts moving, you are all perfectly safe.

P.S. My dear Father used to call me "The Welsh Witch"!

Showery Sunday

A miserable day here.  I am still cough, cough, cough although the sneezing is a little better.  Dean and him indoors made great progress with the kitchen yesterday. It is not finished, it has to have the trim around it and various bits and pieces tweaked.  I have taken a few photos but will put them on my journal when it is finished, a before and after, although they will not be the most exciting pics to see.  It has made such a difference.  Now it looks like the sun is shining out there.

I would like to thank all the people who voted for me as a nominee in the Vivi Awards.  I am absolutely bowled over.  Having had an awful computerless week last week and then getting the bug, to turn on and keep finding emails saying congratulations and then reading comments saying the same thing, well it really lifted me I can tell you.  So, for all of you that like my journals enough to vote for me - this is for you

I am so grateful to Donna for making this tag for me at such short notice.  I asked her yesterday evening whether she could do something and within a couple of hours, probably a bit less, she came back with this.  Good luck in the Vivi's, Donna. You give us all on journals so much, you never turn down a request for a graphic and I know how grateful people are for everything that you do.

I would also like to wish each and every other nominee the very best of luck.  I will be visiting all nominated journals during the coming week.  I would also like to thank Jackie, Chris and all the other committe members for making this possible and for working so hard to bring it all together.

It is over a week since the family came back from their holiday in Skegness but as I had no computer, I could not share any photos with you.  Nathan and Daniel really loved it at the camp because there was so much for them to do.

Nathan was absolutely fascinated by the machines in the arcade.  Particularly the one where you roll down coins and try to knock a pile of coins off, I am sure you know the ones.  He stood on a small chair, with a coin in each hand, feeding them in as quickly as he could.

Daniel, on the other hand, was maye the wiser one.  He just stood by the pay-out slot with his hand in it as if to say " just give me the money!"

I hope to do another video soon.  I was surprised to be nominated in that category because I only do them from time to time.  Should be some time this coming week but Mike has to get the kitchen finished first and if he goes down with the bug he will not feel like going out shooting film.  I have an idea to tie a video up with a story I have in mind.

Becky has asked me to thank you for all your many Birthday wishes to her.  She was very touched.

Oh, I got my family tree back!!!!!  Our own fault.  We had forgotten that Mike had bought me an DeLuxe version two Christmases ago.  It was not where we normally keep our computer programme discs.  I suddenly remembered last night that he did buy one so after a good hunt around, we found it and I was able to restore all my twelve years of data this morning.  Phew, what a relief.

Wishing you all a pleasant Sunday.

P.S. There is a Vivi nominee who would really like some more readers. I know what a great bunch of people you are, so go on, pop over and say hello.  Here is the link

Mish-Mash