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Re: dartmoor ghosts


Hangingstone Hill.

 

An accomplished Dartmoor walker was on Hangingstone Hill trying to find the Phillpotts peat pass but no matter how hard he searched it for some strange reason eluded him. He had tried on many occasions to locate the cut but just couldn't until this day in 1964. Once again he searched amongst the peat hags but had no luck and in frustration he threw his walking stick to the ground and sat down for a rest. Suddenly the stick started to turn round on the ground until its handle pointed towards him. As he leant over to pick up the stick he felt an unseen hand firmly but gently take his wrist and lead him forward. The walker allowed the ghostly hand to guide him and to his delight it took him to the marker cairn of the elusive peat cut.

 

Hennock.

 

1) Just outside the village is Jew's Bridge and this was where many years ago a Jewish pedlar was murdered. It is said that to this day his ghost still haunts the bridge.

 

2) There were a spate of motor cycle accidents on a stretch of road which runs from Hennock village to Pitt Hill. In every case the riders reported seeing a figure running alongside them and waving its arms in the air thus causing the accident.

Lustleigh.

 

1) Near a place called 'Peck Pitt' is what is supposedly a bottomless pool which was part of some old mine workings. This pool is haunted by an old ploughman who appears once a year on the evening of Good Friday. It seems that against all tradition he insisted on ploughing on a Good Friday for which divine retribution was swift and he, his plough, and his horses disappeared into the bottomless pool.

 

2) One day two horse riders were going towards Hunter's tor at the entrance to Lustleigh Cleave when they saw ahead of them a hunting party with dogs. The people were finely dressed and the horses richly saddled. The dogs were being led by some footmen and the whole party rode off into some trees. This haunting not only included the hunters, horses and dogs but also the trees as where the riders saw the apparition there were no trees. Some people think the ghosts are that of a royal hunting party and others say it is the knights who took part in the 1240 perambulation which sadly went no where near Lustleigh.

 

Longaford Tor.

Many years ago an old shepherd from Powder Mills went on the moors one dark snowy night and never returned home. Despite the usual search nothing more was seen of him until a few months later some human bones were found beside a foxes earth on the side of Longaford tor. It was supposed that the poor shepherd had died on the moor, either by the earth or the foxes had taken his bones back to their den. But ever since that grisly discovery it is said that during the week before Christmas the ghosts of foxes appear near the old earth

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Re: dartmoor ghosts


Moretonhampstead.

In the early hours of the morning of April 14th 1969, a family were driving in there car when they came to a sharp corner about half a mile outside of Moretonhampstead on the Postbridge road, by all accounts there was a thick mist on the moor. Suddenly another car shot road the bend on the wrong side of then road. The driver frantically swerved to miss the car and ended up in the ditch, but much to his amazement the other car never passed. On trying to restart the car the battery was found to be flat despite having driven 50 miles. Eventually the car was towed to the garage where the mechanics found the motor to be completely drained of power. Having heard the motorists tale the garage owner was able to confirm that no such a car had passed that way for hours. A local AA man related how there had been a fatal accident at the spot where the phantom car appeared and that ever since similar apparitions have occurred.

Princetown.

 

In 1963, a woman was staying at what was then the Prince of Wales hotel in Princetown. On three occasions during her stay she was awoken at [sign in to see URL] by the sound of an alarm clock going off but despite a thorough search of her room she could find no clock. On the second occasion the ringing of the alarm was accompanied by the sight of a small white triangle floating down the stairs. On the third occasion she heard some music softly playing.

 

Spitchwick.

 

On the chiming of midnight the ghostly procession of the old squire's funeral party can be seen solemnly walking from the park towards Widecombe-in-the Moor.

 

Stowford Cleave.

 

The river Erme in its lower moorland course runs through Stowford Cleave and it is here that a hideous ghost was exiled after haunting Stowford House. The spirit is condemned to make ropes from the sand in the river for eternity. It is said that on nights when the river is in spate his ghostly, desperate cries can be herd screaming - "more rope, more rope..."

 

TAVISTOCK

2) A long time ago, a stage coach was travelling the road which goes across the moor between Tavistock and Okehampton, it was carrying two lady travellers. All of a sudden the coachman became agitated and whipped his team of horses into a gallop. One of the ladies asked him what was the matter when he nervously pointed to a weird black dog that was lolloping alongside the coach. It was, according to the coachman, the ghostly black dog of the moors.

 

3) Just outside Tavistock is Grammar Boys Woods and these are said to be haunted by the ghost of a Georgian gamekeeper. It seems that the old keeper stalks the woods shooting at anybody he sees and then vanishes from site.

 

4) In the centre of town is a tower called Betsy Grimble's Tower and her ghost is said to appear just before the onset of any national disaster. A policeman saw her ghost just before the Aberfan disaster of 1966.

 

5) Supposedly beneath the town square is a network of tunnels thought to be associated with the old abbey. Many years ago two clergymen were exploring these tunnels when the ghosts of two monks came walking towards them. It is said that the monks bowed reverently and walked on down the tunnel.

 

6) In the 1500's a judge lived at Tavistock called Glanville, he had a daughter who had fallen deeply in love with a sailor. However, the judge was having none of this because he had arranged for his daughter to marry a local goldsmith. So to avoid this arranged marriage the daughter, a servant, and the sailor plotted to murder the goldsmith which having done so would mean the daughter would be free of her commitment. The dastardly deed was carried out but somehow went wrong because the trio were caught and arrested. At the trial Glanville sat in judgement and found all three guilty of murder, sentencing them all, including his daughter to death. The ghost of the daughter is said to haunt the house where she appears in a bedroom dressed in a cloak and hood. On one occasion she was seen simultaneously by three horrified witnesses.

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Re: dartmoor ghosts


Throwleigh.

 

1) In Throwleigh there is a small lane known as Petticoat Lane which leads down from the open moor. One dark evening a woman and her parents were walking down this lane when behind them they heard the sound of a herd of pony hooves clattering along the road. The group stood in an nearby doorway to let the ponies pass when to their amazement the hoof clatter and a gust of wind sped past but no visible ponies, the clattering then faded off into the distance.

 

2) One the panelling of a downstairs room at Wonson Manor is said to be a large painted ace of diamonds. Tradition says that the one-time owner of the manor bet all his lands on a card game which he duly lost. As a reminder of the folly of gambling the man had the ace of diamonds painted in order to remind him of the consequences. It is rumoured that if the door of this room is quietly opened of an evening the ghostly figures of four men in Cavalier costume can be seen sitting around a table playing cards. In addition to these spectres there is meant to be another one in the form of an unseen woman who will smooth the bed and tuck in any occupant

Two Bridges.

Sometime in the 1920's at about [sign in to see URL] two men were riding on a motorcycle past the moor lodge at Two Bridges. Suddenly a white horse appeared infront of them and despite braking hard the motorcycle carried on a collision course for the animal. The men braced themselves for the imminent impact but much to their amazement the motorcycle went through the spectral horse. It was suggested afterwards that the men had seen a mist cloud but they were adamant it was a white horse.

 

Widecombe-in-the-Moor.

 

Just outside Widecombe is a wood which is a favourite place for the locals to walk their dogs. On day a woman was doing just that when she saw coming towards her a large. slender white dog which looked similar to an Afghan or Saluki. The woman's dog, upon spotting the hound turned tail and ran off at great speed. The white dog continued gracefully to come towards the woman and then it simply vanished. There have been many similar reports from other walkers and local farmers regarding the white dog.

 

Yelverton.

 

1) Just outside Yelverton is Roborough Common where a couple of centuries ago a local farmer and his wife were riding along the road in their trap. Suddenly a solemn funeral procession appeared and so respectfully the farmer pulled the trap into the side of the road to let them pass. Eventually the last mourner trudged slowly by and the farmer looked over his shoulder to see if it was safe to pull out when to his horror he saw that the cortege had vanished into thin air.

 

2) One December afternoon in the 19th century a man was walking from Princetown to Plymouth and on approaching Roborough he noticed a black dog trotting alongside him. Much to his horror, when he bent down to stroke the animal his hand passed clean through its body. By the time he reached the edge of the common the dogs was still by his side and then all of a sudden there was a flash of lightening and a loud explosion. The force of which threw him into a nearby ditch where he lay unconscious until the following day. Local tradition has it that at the very spot where he got thrown into the ditch a man was murdered and his dog still haunts the road in search of his killer in order to exact vengeance. It is also tradition that occasionally he mistakenly identifies his master killer.


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Re: dartmoor ghosts


HE PHANTOM PONY


Ponies have been part of Dartmoor for thousands of years and therefore it is not surprising that the ghosts of one or two still haunt the moor. There have been sightings of ghostly black ponies that appear and vanish all over the tors and valleys. But probably the most persistent offender is the phantom pony that stalks the area around Haytor. Rather appropriately its favourite spot is Saddle Tor where numerous people have witnessed its presence. This particular phantom seems to have a evil sense of humour which is displayed in the nature of its manifestations.

It could well be that you are out walking around Saddle Tor when in the far distance the sound of galloping hooves is heard. Very slowly the noise gets nearer and louder as the hoof beats drum across the moor. It doesn't take long to realise that something is heading straight in your direction. At this point people usually plod on in the knowledge that this is nothing unusual as there are always ponies galloping across the moor, usually it's the stallions chasing of rivals. Rather unnervingly the thudding hooves get closer and closer which is then when the disconcerting thought that about 300kg of pony is about to trample you to death. On turning around nothing is visible but still the sound of hoof beats continues to head in your direction, the tussocks begin to shake and the long grasses bend in some invisible slip-stream. It is impossible to flee from something that can't be seen and the panic sets in as you try to decide in which direction safety lies. By now the phantom pony is almost on top of you and every muscle in your body contracts as unconsciously you brace yourself for the impending impact. Suddenly you feel a blast of icy wind as some unseen being charges past and then complete and utter silence, the sound of the ghostly hoofs has vanished and all around is stillness. There is no point in frantically scanning the horizon as there is and never will be anything to be seen. The black peaty soil will reveal no trace of equine hoof prints and even the sheep grazing nearby will show no signs of alarm. The skylarks will still happily flutter in mid air chirping their ceaseless song. Quite simply there will be no rhyme or reason to the encounter except for the chilling fact that you have just met the phantom pony of Saddle Tor.





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Re: dartmoor ghosts


THE GHOSTS OF SPREYTON



Although not officially in the Dartmoor Park the small village of Spreyton lies about 2 miles north of the moor. Back in the sixteen hundreds a series of ghostly events took place in the cold days of November. One morning a young servant lad called Francis Fey was working in a field close to his masters house. Suddenly the figure of an old man appeared who very much resembled the deceased father of the lad's master. The spectre was even carry a long staff as was the want of the departed man, when he was alive the old master carried a staff for the purpose of dispatching moles. A cold chill ran down Fey's back as the ghostly apparition slowly approached. The old man told the boy not to be afraid as he meant him no harm. He explained that there were several legacies which he had noted in his will which had not been paid and that he wanted the lad to ensure his wishes were carried out. The ghost then named two people to which ten shillings had been bequeathed and as yet were outstanding. Fey replied that one of the men mention had himself recently died and therefore it would be impossible to pay him the money. The old man insisted that he was aware of the fact and that the money should be paid to the next living relative. He then told the lad that there was also a sum of twenty shillings due to his sister who was living at Totnes and that sum must also be settled. The grisly apparition then promised that as long as these wishes were carried out the lad would come to no harm, if they weren't obeyed then the ghoul vowed that the ghost of his evil wife would also come to haunt him. With that the spirit slowly vanished leaving the poor lad shaking and shivering.

That afternoon Fey took the two ten shilling legacies to the names mentioned in the will and then set off towards Totnes to settle the twenty shilling debt. When he explained to the woman why he had come she utterly refused to accept the money because in her words "the money had been sent by the Devil himself." Frey was utterly dismayed, he had travelled over thirty miles and now he could not fulfil his promise. By this time it was early evening and the night was drawing in, luckily the woman had offered him a bed for the night which meant he didn't have to travel back in the dark. No sooner had he gone to his room than the ghost of the old man appeared. Naturally Frey was somewhat alarmed and explained that as far as he was concerned he had kept his side of the bargain. Afterall it was hardly his fault that the woman wouldn't except the money. The ghost was not convinced and ordered the lad to ride into town the following morning an buy a ring to the value of twenty shillings. This he assured Frey the woman would accept and that his promise would then be fulfilled. So the next morning the lad did as he had been ordered and purchased a ring which much to his relief the woman gladly excepted.

Having completed his mission Frey journeyed back to Spreyton safe in the knowledge that he would now be left in peace. However, no sooner had he entered the parish of Spreyton than he sensed another presence sat behind him on his horse. He looked down to see a pair of thin ghostly arms wrapped around his waist and could feel an icy breath panting down his back. On approaching his masters house Frey felt a sharp tug and found himself being thrown off his horse. As the lad hit the ground he saw the horse speeding off into the yard and then in pure fright leaping the twenty foot high courtyard wall. Fortunately Francis only suffered a few cuts and grazes and according to some villagers who witness the event, was very lucky to escape with his life.

Shortly after this the ghost of a woman appeared before Frey and other members of the household. This apparition was far more frightening than the old man for she would either appear and stalk along the passages of the house or more terrifyingly she would materialise and then change into a dog who belched fire or a large white horse. On one occasion, having turned into the horse, the ghost leapt clean through a closed window smashing a pane of glass and part of the iron lattice. Francis Frey was under no illusions as to who this ghost was, she was the spirit of the old masters evil wife. What he couldn't understand was why the old master had broken his promise. But things got worse for the lad, one day when he was in his bedroom a pair of unseen hands grabbed his head and violently rammed into between the heavy iron bedstead and the wall. So viciously had he been forced into the gap that it took several people to release him. When they finally got him out it was clear that a doctor would be needed and so the local surgeon was sent for. After examining his patient the doctor decided that the lad would need bleeding and so ligatures were placed around Frey's arm. No sooner had they been secured than they were ripped off and slung around his waist, then they were drawn so tight that the lad could hardly breath. In the end the doctor had to cut the ligatures with a knife as no moral hands could free them.

A few days later Frey was talking to a young maid when he felt a strange tugging at his shoe. He looked down and saw that his lace was being mysteriously unthreaded and then once free was slung across the room. Then the other shoe lace slowly unwound itself and started to crawl across the room to join it's partner. The maid stooped down to pick it up and as she did so the lace coiled tightly around her wrist like a snake, again this had to be cut off with a knife.

The next day Frey was walking through the kitchen when much to his embarrassment all the clothes were forcibly ripped off his body leaving him standing in all his glory infront of the giggling maids. Their mirth soon vanished as a huge barrel of salt lifted itself off the floor and floated out of the room.

On Easter night the hapless Frey was returning from town when an unseen force grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and hoisted him kicking and screaming into the air.

A few hours later his master had become concerned as to why he had not returned and so he ordered a search to be carried out. The house and grounds were scoured but there was no sign of the lad and so the neighbouring fields and commons were searched. Eventually Frey was found waste deep in a mire, by all accounts he was just stood trance-like singing and whistling to himself. It took a great deal of effort to extract him from the vacuous depths of the bog but finally he was extricated and taken back to the house. On returning the party mysteriously found one of his shoes laid on the front doorstep, the other on the back step and his wig hanging high up in a tree. Again the doctor was called out and pronounced that he was suffering from extreme hypothermia caused by spending so long in the freezing bog. Despite spending a couple of days in bed his condition never improved and so Frey was moved to Crediton where he was to be bled. This time the blood letting went without ghostly interference and he was left to recover. A few hours later his fellows returned to see how he was only to discover the poor lad lying on the bed with a deep cut and bruising to his forehead. Frey explained how a big black bird with a stone in its beak had flown in through the window and beat him senseless. A search of the room was conducted but no stone was found, just a large brass weight lying beside his bed.

These accounts came from a letter sent by a "Person of Quality' dated the 11th of May 1683 to a Gentleman in London. Later theories suggest that the hauntings were the result of a poltergeist attributed to the "mischievous and idle youth," called Francis Frey. Now, would this story not be an excellent storyline for a film?



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Re: dartmoor ghosts


WILLSWORTHY FORD


Long, long ago the place where the ancient 'Way of the Dead' or Lych Path crosses the river Tavy became a meeting place for two young lovers. It was at Willsworthy Ford that a young, beautiful and rich woman would arrive from nearby Lydford, mounted on a magnificent white horse. Here she would find her lover patiently waiting, he too was young, handsome, well to do and he rode a big, jet black stallion. The reason they met at this desolate spot was to avoid prying eyes, the girl's father was stolidly opposed to the relationship because in his opinion his daughter should marry who he felt fit and this young man was not included in that list. Nobody actually knew the reason why the girl's father disliked her sweetheart as he seemed to offer everything a father would wish for a daughter.

The young man would always wait on the moor side of the ford and then as soon as he saw his love riding down from the Lydford side he would cross the river and ride up to meet her. They had agreed to meet at dimpsey just as the sun started to sink below the western sky and this became the daily routine.

One evening the young man was sat astride his horse by the river and he noticed that the skies over the high fen were becoming black and laden with huge anvil shape clouds which he knew was a sure sign of an approaching storm. The horse had restlessly sensed the same as it began to fidget nervously but still the man kept his vigil as he looked longingly to the west. The girl's arrival passed from late to overdue to absent and her lover began to get concerned as he looked at the darkness slowly drawing it's shroud over the moor. A few moments later a loud rumbling sound reverberated down the valley and a livid white streak stabbed across the moorland sky. A few heavy drops of rain plummeted down from the ink black anvil cloud overhead and within seconds the cloud burst and sheets of angry precipitation gushed upon the moor. The storm seemed to last for an eternity but then as suddenly as it had started the deluge abated as if a huge, invisible sponge had sucked the rain into its heart. A wind swept across the night sky and wiped the clouds away leaving a watery moon staring down at the sodden moor. The eerie silence was then broken by a crashing and rolling crescendo coming from high up the cleeve and the man noticed that gradually the river was climbing up the stepping stones of the ford. A few minutes later the tranquil moorland river had became a seething, foaming, peat tinged torrent sweeping aside all in its path. The horse had decided it was not going to be part of the river's flotsam and had backed itself up the bank to a safe haven. It was from this vantage point that the man saw his sweetheart galloping across the moonlit moor. She galloped down to the ford and only just managed to rein in the horse before it plunged into the torrent. In desperation the man tried to warn the girl of the dangers but the roaring of the Tavy drowned out his voice. The girl's horse was prancing up and down the river bank when suddenly two more riders galloped down the old Lych Path, it was her father and the man he wanted her to marry. The girl spotted them charging towards her, hesitated, turned the white horse and spurred it into the raging river. From one bank her lover helplessly watched the nightmare unveil whilst from the other side the father and suitor stood grimly observing the events. As the horse bravely plunged into the river the booming current swept it downstream, the girl frantically tried to hang on to the saddle but the cruel waters wrenched her hands away and rolled her helpless body down into its brown, swirling depths. She briefly bobbed up to the surface but then was snatched away and hurled downstream never to be seen again. The girl's lover whipped his horse downstream in search of his sweetheart but all he found was the white horse who had somehow managed to escape the clutches of the vengeful moorland torrent.

Some years later a traveller came to Willsworthy ford and found the river in full spate, he decided discretion was the better part of valour and started to head downstream in search of a safer place to cross. All of a sudden he saw the figure of a man sat astride a big black steed and leading a magnificent white horse. The rider was dressed in fine clothes and was urgently looking into the swollen waters of the Tavy. The traveller soon realised this was no earthly apparition and with cold shivers running down his back he fled in fear. Since that first ghostly sighting it has become common occurrence that on moonlit nights when the Tavy is in flood the spectre of the lover can be seen searching its peaty depths for his sweetheart.





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Jun/27/2008, 8:30 am Link to this post Send Email to MaTTsWoRld   Send PM to MaTTsWoRld Blog
 


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