Ghost Trails of the Lake District and Cumbria

Clive Kristen

Description

Popular TV ghosthunter, Clive Kristen, takes the reader in search of grueseome tales of malevolence. The stories are woven into their historical context and take the reader to spooktacular places, amidst fabulous scenery. From grisly murders to wronged women to unfinished business, there's a sppok for every story!

Informations

• Publié par: Andrews UK
• Date de parution: 10 juin 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781782349075
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Title Page
GHOST TRAILS OF THE LAKE DISTRICT AND CUMBRIA




By
Clive Kristen



Publisher Information
Ghost Trails of the Lake District and Cumbria
Published in 2013 by Andrews UK Limited
www.andrewsuk.com
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Copyright © 2013 Clive Kristen
The right of Clive Kristen to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.




Author’s Note
Whenever I write an introduction to a new Ghost Trails book I begin by claiming an association with the area concerned. As far as the North of England is concerned this is largely true. I was born in Lancashire, my formative education was in Yorkshire and I have lived for more than 25 years in Northumberland.
The Lake District and Cumbria though have been a constant inspiration. My friend, Peter Woode, and I cycled the greater part of it – mainly in the rain. I honeymooned at Grasmere anxious not to communicated to the management at the hotel that on my previous visits to the establishment I had made false claims in their register as to my marital status.
I have climbed most of the hills in the Lakes apart from Skiddaw which always looked to me like a tedious slog. My wife and I were hit by such an unexpected downpour at the top of The Old Man of Coniston that we ran all the way down to our open topped sports car in around 40 minutes. Someone had kindly pulled the roof pretty much over. The vehicle was therefore 90 % dry but we were 100 % wet and had to share two flimsy towels with a large dog. Wearing just enough to prevent scandal we drove the first few yards to a farm gate to be greeted by a posse of animated nuns – one of whom opened the gate for us. I think the chorus of giggles suggested we were more embarrassed than they were.
Some time later I had the regular use of a cottage in Dent – near Sedbergh. I came to love this Cumbrian corner of the Dales and remember it as generally being a land of green fields, rugged little hills and azure blue skies. The truth – at least as far as the skies were concerned – was often rather different. The tracks of the Western Dales are most commonly only passable in sturdy boots and various waterproof layers. And even more layers are necessary if you are not in a Land Rover.
But for me Dent remains a place of fantasy – a kind of Camelot of austere grandeur and dappled sunshine. I think perhaps that it was here that my ghost hunting really began. The valley itself had a half remembered past with strange stone formations that seemed placed in some kind of order by a giant, unseen past. The villagers themselves had once been preyed on by a famous vampire, but more of that later.
The wider point is this. Cumbria and the Lake District have a unique sense of wildness and isolation as if ( quite incorrectly ) they have hardly been touched by human hand. It is impossible to find a community without quite such a sense of its place in history. OK, everyone has running water and electricity now but it is easy to imagine that this may not be so.
And so it is with the ghosts. In this corner of England they seem more plausible more material, more startling, and even more spooktacular.
The reader should be warned that two short passages from this book have previously appeared in ‘Ghost Trails of Yorkshire’. This is simply because slices of modern Cumbria are part of the Yorkshire Dales National Park. Also, the stories are so strong I was reluctant to leave them out.
As always I must thank the people who have made this possible – particularly Joe Larkins at Andrews UK and my favourite researcher and proof reader, Maureen Kristen, who is also known as ‘The Mrs.’
Enjoy your Ghost Trailing.
Clive Kristen



Carlisle and the North
Blenkinsopp Castle
Blenkinsopp Castle may just be a dishonest place to start. The famous old castle is undoubtedly in Northumberland although its postcode - Greenhead - makes it Cumbria. But Blenkinsopp is too good to miss so we will go by postcode.
It was originally a 13 th century medieval fortified manor house, founded by Randolph de Blenkinsopp. In the late 19 th century, the castle was incorporated in a Victorian Gothic style mansion, founded by Lord Joicey of Etal. It was destroyed by a great fire in 1954.
One Bryan de Blenkinsopp was reportedly teased about his marriage plans and said, ‘Never, never shall that be until I meet with a lady possessed of a chest of gold heavier than ten of my strongest men can carry into my castle’.
He then left, returning after several years with a wife in tow and a box of gold that took twelve men to carry it. Sir Bryan was still not happy, as his wife had hidden the box. Once again he left.
It is said that his wife was inconsolable. She fell to weeping and wailing. She sent people to look for him and when they failed she set out herself. Neither the Lord nor his Lady were ever seen - alive - again.
The lady, however, was apparently unable to rest easy in her grave and the claim is that she doomed to wander the old castle until the gold is found. Of course the flaw in this story is that the lady, ghost or not, has been unable to indicate the hidey hole of the stash.
***
During the eighteenth century the parents of a young boy were aroused one night by his screaming, ‘The White Lady, the White Lady !’ covering his eyes with his hands. ‘She is gone’, he added, ‘but she looked so angry at me because I wouldn’t go with her. She said she would make me a very rich man. When I said I was afraid to go, she tried to carry me off, and then I shrieked and frightened her away’.
Although the parents managed to soothe the child, the same thing happened on three consecutive nights. Why is it always three in cautionary tales and Irish jokes?
Following these fearful dreams the child was removed from the castle and no more was heard of the spectre.
But, around a century later, a lady arrived in a nearby village and reported a dream of buried treasure. Following a visit to Blenkinsopp Castle, she identified it as the place in her dream. Nothing was found and a succession of impoverished owners left the site in ruins.
Then, so the story goes, a neighbouring farmer decided to clear out the vaults to over winter his cattle in them. A small doorway was found and a volunteer was suitably bribed to go through it. Some versions of the story have him seeing a mound of gold in the corner of the room. Then his candle became extinguished and the made his escape. The doorway was subsequently blocked up. There is nothing of record to suggest that the gold was removed.
Gilsland
Gilsland is about as isolated as it is possible to be in England and yet it has always been scene of much activity. There are remains of Bronze and Iron Age forts and some few lumps of stone that remain from the foundations of Hadrian’s Wall. This is an area of high ground with large tranches of forestry.
During the so-called Dark Ages the area was associated with the origins of two quasi-historical figures - St Patrick and King Arthur. Until the 12 th century it came within the Kingdom of Stratchclyde before falling under the rule of the Norman King, Henry II.
Triermain Castle was probably built around 1340, when a licence to crenellate was granted to Roland Vaux. He used stone from Hadrian’s Wall. By the end of the 16 th century the castle was in ruins and the estate was forfeit to the crown. The tower was demolished at the end of the 17 th century, and most of the stonework collapsed a few years after, with the stone being used in adjacent farm buildings. It was a case of the further recycling of Hadrian’s Wall.
It had been Hubert Vaux - Roland’s older brother - who had received the Barony of Gilsland from Henry II. Hubert had a reputation for dark deeds which included the ‘accidental’ deaths of several of his rivals. It is said that this dark deeds were assisted by the dark arts by his henchman, Robin Goodfellow. I had always assumed that this character, shrouded by the mists of time, was entirely mythical and it was something of a surprise to find some flesh and bones to share some of his mystical characteristics.
Goodfellow is said to be the prototype for Shakespeare’s Puck. The name is sometimes also translated as Hobgoblin in northern culture. He was more than a little mischievous. A little enlightenment from A Midsummer Night’s Dream may help :
‘That shrewd and knavish sprite 
call’d Robin Goodfellow: are not you he
that frights the maidens of the villagery ;
skim milk, and sometimes labour in the quern
 and bootless make the breathless housewife churn;
 and sometime make the drink to bear no barm;
 mislead night-wanderers, laughing at their harm?
Those that Hobgoblin call you and sweet Puck,
you do their work, and they shall have good luck:
are not you he?’
Robin Goodfellow is a bit like Robin Hood. The character is connected to many locations and most of the stories associated with him were not recorded until the age of the Tudors. We can therefore assume an oral tradition rather than an historical one. One recurring theme is that of Goodfellow as a seer, or visionary who can tell the future. Again there is more than a little doubt here. As with Nostradamus the predictions may have been recast several times and even adjusted when they proved to be false. Nevertheless, these are the best known :
‘In 1586 she who would take crown shall come by s