Bizarre Beasts of Cornwall

I have decided to republish this article in honour of Tony 'Doc' Shiels; a skilled artist, shaman, surrealist, and trickster, who died on  July 11, 2024. His inspirational work has had an interesting influence on my life, especially after my move to Cornwall in 1994. The photo above shows me at his 2009 art exhibition in Penzance.

Bizarre Beasts of Cornwall

Alex Langstone

 

Somewhere between the eldritch realm of Forteana and the conceptual ideas of folk horror lies a peculiar domain of extreme strangeness which has richly inspired the research surrounding this article. The bizarre beasts of Cornwall is a world of weird, where if you expect the unusual and can momentarily leave the world of reason behind, will reveal a rich and wondrous seam of folklore, navigating across a period of three hundred years. From the 1720s in Ladock, through the Victorian era and throughout the twentieth century; and finally bringing us up to date with odd tales still being reported in 2021.

Of course, the Cornish folklore archive is full of sightings of sea serpents, mermaids, and dragons, but there are denizens of other odd creatures to be found, if you seek at the edge.

The most famous of all the modern strange beasts must be the Beast of Bodmin. As I write this, local newspaper The Cornish Guardian has the headline “Big Cat Encounter”, which goes on to describe the most recent of confrontation with the alien big cat of Bodmin Moor, where a creature the size of a giant lurcher was seen on the cycle path known as Walter’s trail on the Lanhydrock estate, near Bodmin. This trail is densely wooded, and deer are often seen in the area. The big cat was described as dark charcoal grey, with a tail around 60 centimetres long and bushy fur. This means the cat would have stood around 76 centimetres in height.  The witness described the incident as odd and surreal but felt that the big cat was out hunting deer, as he had seen several just prior to the cat’s appearance.

There have been around sixty sightings of the Bodmin Beast recorded in the area since 1983, and a spate of recent sightings, such as the one reported above, keeps the tale alive. ‘The phantom cat’ is frequently thought to be a Lynx, Leopard or Panther, and in 1995 a skull was found by the River Fowey, measuring about 10 cm long by 18 cm wide. Although lacking its lower jaw, it possessed two sharp, prominent teeth that suggested that it might have been a leopard. The story hit the national press at about the same time of the official denial of alien big cat evidence on Bodmin Moor. The skull was sent to the Natural History Museum in London for verification. They determined that it was a genuine skull from a young male leopard, but also found that the cat had not died in Britain and that the skull had been imported as part of a leopard-skin rug. 

The legend of the Beast of Bodmin is still commemorated today within the annual folk-tradition of Bodmin Riding. This ancient patronal feast of the old trade guilds was still held each July, until recently. 

Bodmin continues to promote the tales of the Beast, and there is a recent town centre mural (see below) depicting the folkloric creature, painted by local artist Harry Maddox, in all his splendour. 

The Beast of Bodmin street art by Harry Maddox

There is a far stranger account of a mysterious beast that was once sighted in the village of St Mawgan, close to Newquay airport. In the lush and beautiful Vale of Lanherne, where the River Menalhyl (Cornish language: melyn [mill] and heyl [estuary]) persists in her eternal flow towards the Celtic Sea. Here lies a bizarre modern mystery. It is one of those persistent elements from the past that crop up in the local press from time to time. One of those weird things that seem to creep up from the tenacity of a shared cultural memory. The case of the Woodwose of St Mawgan was first recorded by Cryptozoology researcher Deborah Hatswell, and subsequently listed on her British Wildman Sightings map.    The story was later picked up by Cornwall Live on 12th September 2020.  The tale is told by an anonymous estate worker who nervously recounts his memories of the event, which took place just over twenty years ago somewhere in the Vale of Lanherne. This would place the incident sometime during the late 1990s, and it is told something like this:

Bigfoot Spotted in St Mawgan Woods!

The eyewitness was working in woodland, making wooden pheasant cages, when he saw something which scared him. It happened towards the end of the working day, whilst waiting for his boss to arrive to take him home. As he waited, he began to hear loud knocks and whistles coming from the surrounding woods. Whilst pondering on what kind of bird could make the noises, he scanned the forest edges, seeking possible origins of the sudden disturbance.  Then suddenly he became aware that something was watching him, and he saw an inexplicable face loom from the undergrowth.  He moved forward to gain a better view and was astonished when a very strange looking creature emerged from the vegetation. He described it as a male humanoid, around 2 metres tall, and almost completely covered with copper coloured fur. 

From the description he gives of the area, it is probable that it was somewhere on the Carnanton Estate, most likely at Carnanton Woods. The eerie tale continues, where the witness describes how his boss duly picked him up, and how he eventually gained enough courage to ask him about the extraordinary sighting. His boss then casually replied “Oh yes, we call them Woodwose here, best to just leave them be”.  

Curiously, at the south-eastern end of the Vale of Lanherne in the parish church at St Columb Major there are bench ends featuring strange creatures and grotesque heads (above), and close by at St Eval, the church has several green man designs placed on some of the roof bosses. Maybe these old carvings were deliberately positioned nearby to remind us of a lost localised ancient folk narrative of something wild and mysterious; the remnants of which, may still survive today in the nearby woods.

St Eval green man

Taken at face value, this report seems ludicrous. But is it that dissimilar to comparable, more historic tales from the canon of Cornish folklore? It is not the only folk narrative that describes mysterious creatures in St Magwan. In 1827 the Royal Cornwall Gazette ran a report about a group of gruesome looking mermaids that had been observed on the rocks and in the caves at Mawgan Porth. These reports came from various witnesses across several days. Here is the full report:

Mermaids on the Coast of Cornwall - The following is an extract of a letter received on Sunday 1st July from our Correspondent at St. Columb’: "Within these last two or three days there have been several mermaids seen on the rocks at Trenance, in the parish of Mawgan. I will state the particulars at length, as I have been enabled to collect them, and which are from undoubted authority, and you can make what extracts you think proper. One evening this week, a young man from the adjoining the beach at Mawgan Porth, had made an appointment to meet another person on the beach to catch sprats with him. He went out about ten o'clock at night and coming near a point which runs into the sea, he heard a screeching noise proceeding from a large cavern which is left by the tide at low water, but which has some deep pools in it, and communicates with the sea by another outlet. He thought it was the person he had appointed to meet, and called out to him, but his astonishment is not to be described when on going up he saw something in the shape of a human figure staring on him, with long hair hanging all around its body. He then ran away, thinking, as he went, that he had seen the devil. The next day, some men being on the cliffs near this place, saw three creatures of the same description. The following day five were seen. The persons who saw the last five describe them in this manner: The mermaids were about forty feet below the men (who stood on the cliff), and were lying on a rock, separated from the land some yards by deep water; two of them were large, about four feet and a half to five feet long, and these appeared to be sleeping on the rock; the other small ones were swimming about, and went off once to sea and then came back again. The men looked at them for more than an hour, and flung stones at them, but they would not move off. The large ones seemed to be lying on their faces, their upper parts were like those of human beings, and black or dark-coloured, with very long hair hanging around them; their lower parts were of a bluish colour, and terminating in a fin, like fish. The sea would sometimes wash over them, and then leave them dry again. Their movements seemed to be slow. The hair of these mermaids extended to a distance of nine or ten feet.” 

Mawgan Porth, home of monstrous mermaids?

These mermaids do not sound like the usual description of beautiful young maids with fish tails, but rather something more sinister.  Interestingly, there were nine distinct sightings of these creatures over three days. However, the description of the ‘mermaids’ on the rocks would fit the descriptions of seals, and the appearance of wild long hair was more than likely seaweed. However, a fascinating report, and it is easy to imagine the tall tales that were subsequently circulated after a glass or two of strong ale, huddled around the blazing hearth in St Mawgan’s village pub, the Falcon Inn. 

Moving a short distance further along the north coast, there is a curious tale that was once told about the ghost of a dog headed man at Harlyn. This was recorded by surrealist artist and occultist Ithell Colquhoun, whilst on a trip to visit the owners of the historic Harlyn House (right) during the 1950s. Colquhoun was seeking the strange and unusual, and questioned Captain Millar and his family, who had been living in the house since 1946, about any resident ghosts. Amid the cosier tales of a spectral white cat who was reputed to haunt the gardens and that of a former maid who was occasionally seen on the stairs, came the gruesome description of the Dog Headed Man who is sometimes seen at daybreak, where he appears to guard the  front avenue and main entrance of the house during the twilight hours before dawn. A tradesman once reported that he could not bear to work at Harlyn House anymore because each morning, upon his early arrival, he would be greeted by a hideous apparition which had the appearance of a dog/man hybrid.  Interestingly, Harlyn House is also reported as being haunted by a spectral black dog, and this was recounted as residing in the house, probably as the guardian ghost of the Peter family, who had continuously lived in the house between the 1630s and 1856. 

Harlyn House. Home of a ghostly Dog-Headed Man?

Incidentally, the tale of the dog headed man reminds me of one of the first and scariest folkloric narratives that I encountered as an 11-year-old child. Whilst watching the legendary, and now much talked about BBC Nationwide broadcast of 20th February 1976, archaeologist Dr Anne Ross was interviewed about the case of the Northumbrian Hexham Heads.  It was on this programme that she revealed that she had been haunted by sinister visitations of werewolves at her home. She recalled one particular incident  of being awoken from a deep sleep to see several werewolves leaving her bedroom and padding downstairs, leaping over the banister and congregating around the front door before exiting.  Ross described one of the creatures: 

“It was about six feet high, slightly stooping, and was black against the white door. It was half-animal and half-man. The upper part, I would have said, was a wolf, and the lower part was human... It was covered with a very dark fur." 

Interestingly, like the Dog Man of Harlyn, these creatures appeared to congregate around entrances and exits of the buildings they seemed to inhabit.

Indeed, 1976 seems to have been a year of bizarre monster manifestations and we can’t leave the topic without mentioning two of the most notorious modern-day Cornish crypto-monsters; Morgawr and Owlman, and the man at the very epicentre of their mythology; surrealist magician Tony ‘Doc’ Shiels. 

During the hot summer of ‘76 ‘Doc’ Shiels and friends appeared to upturn reality and conjure two of Falmouth’s most arcane spirits, the sea serpent Morgawr and the Owlman of Mawnan.

In the years since there have been sporadic sightings of both creatures, and I have reports and press cuttings from the Summer of 1995, where a spate of rumours suggested that both serpent and Owlman were once again materialising along the Falmouth coastline. Morgawr was witnessed at various locations, including the Helford Passage, Mawnan Church and Portscatho.  

Around the same time the Black Panther of Rame was spotted at Antron Hill, between Long Downs and Mabe Burnthouse. The large black cat was seen in the headlights standing in the road and running along the hedge line, keeping up with the car, before leaping over a fence on the opposite side of the road, where it disappeared into the undergrowth.

The most recent sighting of Morgawr that I have in my archives is from Summer 2005, where a local man was out in a boat on the River Fal at Philleigh. He was just passing Smuggler’s Cottage when he saw what he thought was a seal’s head poking out of the water. He pointed it out to his companion, and they turned the boat towards it. Once they had got close, the head submerged, along with two serpentine humps, which he described as looking like black car tyres. He immediately thought of the Loch Ness Monster, and much later, after discussing the strange experience, he realised that he had witnessed Morgawr.   

Photos of Morgawr, allegedly taken from Rosemullion Head in February of 1976

However, despite the many modern sightings of a sea serpent in Cornish waters, Morgawr does have some history to her many appearances all around Cornwall’s stunningly rugged and atmospheric shore. One of the earliest reports comes from the latter part of the nineteenth century in North Cornwall. On the 11th October 1882 a sea-serpent was seen off the coast at Bude by local vicar, Rev. E Highton, along with several friends. It was mid-afternoon and they were walking along the gloriously sandy Summerleaze beach.  They were stopped in their tracks when they observed a long low dark object skimming across the calm surface of the ocean. They estimated that it was travelling at around 25 mph and never once disappeared from view. On one occasion a greater mass appeared above the water, and they all saw a tail, which looked like it was curling in towards the long thin body of the creature. Its length was reported to be between 50 – 80 feet.  

Meanwhile, whilst many were witnessing a   mid-1990s resurgent Morgawr around the bay, Owlman seemed to make a brief return at Mawnan Woods. Apparently described by a marine-biology student from Chicago, who witnessed the surreal monster whilst holidaying in the area. The Owlman evidently spotted her whilst she was out walking, and she explained how the monster arose and floated towards her.   

She described him as: “a vision from hell, with a ghastly face, a wide mouth, glowing eyes and pointed ears. It also had clawed wings and was covered with silvery-grey feathers. The creature also had large bird legs with huge black claws”

There are other, similar tales of strange and sinister birds in the Cornish folklore archive. Sometime during late May 1926, it was reported that two boys from Porthtowan witnessed a huge bird which was described as 6 foot 3 inches from tip of the one wing to the other and was three feet in length. It had a powerful pointed beak, six inches in length with large, webbed feet, striped with green and yellow, and a duck shaped body. The plumage was of cream colour, tinged with brown on the beak, and also on the upper wing coverts, and the tips of the wings were black. The report from the Cornish Echo, went on to recount the strange tale, stating that the two lads saw this striking bird flapping about on the top of a mine burrow. The youngest boy went to investigate and discovered that the bird was severely injured, and he thought it was dead. However, the bird sprang to life and attacked him. The older boy joined him and managing to defend himself with a stick, covered the bird with his coat, trying to subdue it, but the strange avian creature still managed to bite his hand. Many of the villagers came to view the bird, but none recognised the species. The feathered beast appeared to be in a very poor state of health, and due to rapid decay was soon buried.   

Another interesting piece of Porthtowan folklore can be found at the other side of the village at Mile Hill. This tale concerns a fearsome fire-breathing dragon, who once made its lair up on the hilltop, between Chapel Hill and Nancekuke Common. The dragon regularly stalked the area seeking food of sheep and cattle, terrifying the community, and fiercely marking its territory. However, on one particular night on the eve of May and close to midnight, a ghostly black and white spotted dog who haunted the nearby lanes and coombes appeared. He was on the hunt for the dragon and soon found it eating one of the local farmer’s sheep. He squared up to the dragon and let out a long low growl. The dragon started to move in readiness to strike the dog, but the ghost dog sank its teeth into the dragons’ tail, ripping the tip clean off. The monster let out a fiery roar and the dog chased it towards the cliffs and the dragon flew off into the sea, never to be seen again. The black and white ghost dog is still sometimes witnessed in the area. Appearing after dark, he stalks the narrow lanes around Porthtowan, and in particular on the old liminal festive nights of Halloween, Candlemas, May Eve, Midsummer, Midwinter and Lammas, seemingly making him a spectral guardian of the turning tides across the year.

Porthtowan Dog & Dragon by 'Doc' Shiels

There is a curious and historic point of interest worthy of addition to this wonderful folktale. During the early 1970s, Tony ‘Doc’ Sheils’ family owned the Woodland restaurant at Mile Hill and ‘Doc’ persuaded his parents to rename the venue ‘The Dog & Dragon’. It wasn’t long before adverts and signage were sporting his wonderfully imaginative and graphic artwork of the folk narrative, enabling locals and visitors alike to marvel at the intricacies of Porthtowan’s very own otherworldly and spooky folktale. 

Another demon-bird-hybrid appeared in the village of Ladock sometime during the early eighteenth century. The folklore was recorded by William Bottrell and is reproduced below:

A very large bird was spotted atop the tower of Ladock parish church. It was described as having coal black plumage, with fiery-red glowing eyes. None of the Ladock residents could recognise the bird and was seen perched on the tower for several nights in succession, where it remained for hours jumping from one pinnacle to another, and making an unnatural clamour, which was heard for many miles around. The local vicar of the time was the famous ghost-laying, exorcist and astrologer Parson Wood. William Wood was rector at Ladock between 1704 and 1749, a time when many Cornish clergy were involved in lavish exorcisms of demons and ghosts. Rev. Wood was a skilled exorcist, astrologer and occultist and he was kept busy keeping many undesirable entities at bay. He quickly set about dispelling this avian-demon, who he was sure had been sent by the witches of nearby St Enoder. Eventually Rev. Wood expelled the beast, sending him back to the St Enoder witches, who could often be seen flying on their ragwort stems during the time of the full moon or heading home after their midnight meetings in the shape of hares.   

Witch Hare and Piskies

There are a few other Cornish strange beastie sightings that are worth mentioning before we close. Menacuddle Well (below) lies on the edge of St Austell in a lush green valley. The baptistery dates to the 14th century and the well’s waters have magical qualities as was reported in Hope’s Legendary Lore of the Holy Wells of England:           

The virtues of these waters are very extraordinary, but the advantages to be derived from them are rather attributed to the sanctity of the fountain than to the natural excellence of its stream. Weak children have frequently been carried here to be bathed; ulcers have also been washed in its sacred water, and people in season of sickness have been recommended by the neighbouring matrons to drink of this salubrious fluid. In most of these cases, instances may be procured of benefits received from the application, but the prevailing opinion is that the advantages enjoyed result rather from some mystical virtue attributed to the waters for ages past, than from the natural qualities. Within the memory of persons now living, this well was a place of general resort for the young and thoughtless. On approaching the margin, each visitor, if he hoped for good luck through life, was expected to throw a crooked pin into the water, and it was presumed that the other pins which had been deposited there by former devotees might be seen rising from their beds, to meet it before it reached the bottom, and though many have gazed with eager expectation, no one has yet been permitted to witness this extraordinary phenomenon.

 Modern folklore records an eerie out-of-place creature living near the well, and a few years ago when the well and gardens were being restored, it was spotted. Subsequently described as a large dark and mysterious monster, weirdly shaped, with an eerie and sinister face. The creature is believed to be living nearby in the dense thickets of this deep granite valley. A local resident described the creature as a large black animal which neither looked like a dog or a cat and went on to warn the volunteers to be careful clearing the trees as it had often been glimpsed prowling around at dusk. 

Menacuddle well

There are many other locations where strange and uncanny creatures have been seen over the years. There have been reports of a strange jumping creature, reputed to haunt the coast near Falmouth, between Swanpool and Maenporth. Described as slightly larger than a dog, with cat's face, walking on its hind legs.  The beast of Perrancoombe, which has been described equally as a red eyed creature seen in the woods at night, and as an odd-looking dog-like creature with a human face seen walking along the road after dark.   Also, the Red Cat of Mevagissey, which was blamed for a spate of carcasses of several deer that appeared to have been partially eaten.

So, what are these creatures, and what to make of it all. Are they paranormal manifestations, escaped pets, or something else? The world of Cryptozoology may give some answers. Examples include mis-identification (Beast of Bodmin) and zooform phenomenon (Harlyn Dog Man). 

Nevertheless, I believe that it is of significant value to bring these eighteenth, nineteenth, twentieth and twenty-first century folkloric narratives together so we can compare and contrast the ‘paranormal contemporary legends’ with the older - and no less outlandish - established folklore.  It is good to remember that legends are as powerful as any truth, and whilst some may find sightings of a Cornish Bigfoot completely untenable, the tale is now out there in the folkloric, sitting collectively with the other equally bizarre stories from across the centuries.

Further reading:

The Owlman and Others by Jonathan Downes

Monstrum: A Wizard’s Tale by Tony ‘Doc’ Shiels

Monstermind: The Magical Life and Art of Tony ‘Doc’ Shiels by Rupert White

The Living Stones by Ithell Colquhoun

First published in Lien Gwerin; A Journal of Cornish Folklore. No. 6 (January 2022).

The Holy Wells of Cornwall: Revisited

 

Reviewed by Alex Langstone

There have been many books about Cornish holy wells over the years, and it is great to see a new one. Although this volume is not comprehensive in its study of the vast amount of wells within Cornwall, it does give us a detailed historical analysis of some of the best preserved and most interesting wells in the region. The author has chosen sixty wells to focus on, and the volume gives us a thorough overview of each of them, including their folklore and historic dedications. There are some very popular wells included, such as St Clether, Madron and Sancreed. However, there are also some of the more obscure and little known wells here, which are fascinating and will encourage the reader to seek them out. These include St Piala's well at Phillack, St Indract's at St Dominic and St Pedyr's at Treloy.   

                                                                                     

Some of my favourite wells are included in this collection. Scarlett's Well, Bodmin; St Nun's, Pelynt; St Samson's, Golant and Menacuddle, St Austell. There are also many here that I have yet to visit, and this book will greatly assist in seeking them out. It is great to see that the volume is thoroughly indexed, and the author has thoughtfully reproduced many historic maps and photographs, including a rare photo (left) of St Petroc's holy well (1) at Bodmin,  before it was flooded by the Environment Agency, to help with a flood alleviation scheme!

'The Holy Wells of Cornwall: Revisited' by Rupert White. Published by Antenna Publications in 2024. 332 pages, fully illustrated with index. £12 from Amazon. A must have for holy well enthusiasts, spiritual pilgrims, and explorers of the secret country. You can buy it here

Notes

(1)  Picture from The Holy Wells of Cornwall (1970 edition) by A Lane-Davies

Legends of Cornish Ghost Dogs

by Alex Langstone

In the leafy lanes to the south of the river Lynher, there is an old folk narrative about three black hounds with blazing eyes that are linked to an old barrow called Blighberry round, which was once visible in Ringdon Field to the rear of Wolsdon House near Antony.  The legend introduces us to the miller of St John’s, who suddenly finds that his flour is being stolen at the time of the full moon. By the following month as the moon reaches her maximum, he sets out to catch the thief, by hiding under the tangled bramble by the mill. At moonrise, he witnesses three women gathering in the clearing by the mill and was astonished to see them transform into toads. The toads then crept under the gap beneath the door of the old mill and stole the flour. However, before the miller could intervene, the toads are chased away by three large and disturbing black dogs with huge fiery eyes. Intrigued, the miller follows the dogs and observes them disappearing into Blighberry round.  Fascinated, he then witnesses three men emerge from the same barrow.

 

On the next full moon, after he tells his wife and family to stay at home armed with a shotgun, he walks out to the old barrow and goes inside. There he finds a great treasure, and excitedly rushes home to tell his wife. However, as he approaches his home, calling out to his family to let him in, he is shot by his terrified wife. By entering the barrow, he was transformed into a black hound with blazing eyes, and when speaking to his wife, all she heard was the frenzied howls of a demon dog. To this day, when the moon is full, the eerie cries and fiery red eyes of the black hounds can still be heard and seen in the woods between Antony and St John. 

Another black dog haunts the Bronze Age barrow on the downs near Launceston. It was first reported by a group of wrestlers, who were competing in a wrestling competition by the tumulus on St Stephen’s Downs, Langore. The ghostly dog made its appearance towards the end of the day as they were finishing the competition.  The barrow’s folklore tells us that it holds the remains of long dead giants and their gold. The round barrow survives and can be visited. 

During the early 19th century there was a terrible explosion at Wheal Vor on the slopes of Tregonning Hill near Helston. Many miners were killed and soon after the engineman declared that troops of little black ghost dogs continually haunted the place. Few of the miners liked to talk about it; but over time the word spread that the mine was haunted, and it became difficult to obtain the necessary attendance to work the mine. 

There is a tale of a spectral black dog with flaming eyes the size of teacups, that haunted the lanes on the eastern flank of Bodmin Moor. It began its ghostly seven mile walk at Minions, beside the Marke Valley mine, before crossing the river Lynher  at Rillamill, and then up through Linkinhorne village, and onwards to its spooky destination at Stoke Climsland.  

A terrifying black dog experience from the summer of 1779 was witnessed by Samuel Drew from St Austell. Samuel was only a child when he experienced the ghostly beast, whilst out poaching with a group of older men.  The tale is told something like this: Approaching midnight, the poachers gathered on the edge of the hamlet. The old lane was brightly lit by the moon, and all was quiet.  One of the lads, a mere boy, was told to keep guard by the granite hedge, whilst the older men quickly dispersed looking for deer tracks. Having been left alone, Sam’s senses suddenly heightened. He was sure he had heard the clatter of a horse approaching, and having raised the alarm, his companions drew close to the shadows. Suddenly, a huge black dog emerged from the shadows. As the creature passed by the group, they all witnessed the wild beast with his demonic fiery eyes, which struck terror into their hearts, before it passed unnaturally straight through a closed wooden gate, without any obstruction. 

There are several accounts of the Penzance harbour black dog. This ghostly hound is recorded as a harbinger of death to any who encounter him, and the dog only ever appears to certain folk, whilst to others it is invisible. There are stories told by both sailors and fishermen who have docked at Penzance over the years; including one from the 1960s, where a fishing crew sought refreshment from the Dolphin Tavern. One of the men was dispatched mid-evening to check the boat and make ready for the morning. However, he found himself accompanied by a small and friendly black dog. The animal did not leave his side until the rest of the crew returned, when the dog vanished. The following day the boat was fishing out in the bay when an unexpected storm commenced, and the crewman who befriended the black dog fell overboard and was lost. So, if you ever see a black dog on the quayside at Penzance, it’s best to make sure others can also see it; or it may signify your sudden demise. 

Article first published in my regular folklore column for Meyn Mamvro No. 9,  Spring/Summer 2024 © Alex Langstone

Spirit Chaser: The Quest for Bega. Troy Books Edition

Originally published in 2012, this new edition of Spirit Chaser features a foreword by Ogham Grove author and prolific Glastonbury artist, Yuri Leitch. Plus, a brand-new preface, some amendments and new information by the author.

Spirit Chaser is the true story of a spiritual quest that turned into an inspirational occult pilgrimage. In June 1989, the author began following a series of psychic messages and significant synchronicity that led him to discover the enigmatic mystery of St Bega, the sacredness of the British landscape and ultimately to experience the divine reality of the Celtic tradition of mysticism, miracles, and magic. Spirit Chaser takes us on a magnificent journey into the twilight past of seventh century Britain and Ireland, and on a contemporary expedition of re-enchantment. This ultimately led into the heart of a modern-day quest, which uncovered the mystery that is the Sancta Bega, the sacred ring at the mystical centre of the British Isles.

Spectacular Cover art: © Paul Atlas-Saunders

“A glimpse into the spiritual worlds that overlay our landscape.” The Whitehaven News

“Well researched. Engaging. Fascinating.” Audible.com

The spectacular front cover art is by Paul Atlas-Saunders. Based upon a stained-glass window in St Bees Priory, it illuminates St Bega’s moment of arrival upon the beach below the adjacent headland. As her boat lands, she purposefully places her foot on the sacred spot at the very epicentre of the archipelago, which constitutes modern Britain and Ireland.

Pre-order here

Lien Gwerin 8: now available

The brand new edition of Lien Gwerin: A Journal of Cornish Folklore is now available to order. This is issue number 8, and is the final edition of the series.  This issue is full of wondrous folkloric delights, and is beautifully illustrated throughout.

Please order here

Contents

Milva Kernow - A Cornish Bestiary by Merv Davey

Folklore of the Tinners way by Cheryl Straffon

Old Looe Stories & Legends Series: Dosmary Pool

Whitfeld’s ‘Scilly and its Legends’ by Rupert White

The Myth of Santa Warna by Ithell Colquhoun

A Rare Treasure of Cornish Folklore by Ronald M. James

Uter Bosence and the Piskey by William Bottrell

Interview: Sheridan James Lunt

Mystery of Tregudda Gorge by Alex Langstone

Book Review

Games of Giants: West Penwith Quoits by Karen F. Pierce

Found Folklore: Bodmin’s Berry Tower by Alex Langstone

Front Cover art: 'Mermaid' by Sheridan James Lunt

Back cover art: 'Pen Hood' by Paul Atlas-Saunders

Folklore of Bodmin’s holy wells

 

Folklore of Bodmin’s holy wells

Alex Langstone

The historic town of Bodmin, has a long and distinguished history. The place-name means abode of monks, from the Cornish language Bod-meneghy, and was once famous for its priory, friary, guild chapels, sacred relics and a 9th century illuminated manuscript. The town has several holy and healing wells, and they have some interesting folklore surrounding them. 

The town's priory park contains the holy well of St Petroc, which lies in a hollow between the football club and Pendower Meadow and was once within the scared enclosure of the former priory. Dedicated to St Mary and St Petroc, little remains of this once great institution, just a few visible foundations, bits of masonry and the fishpond. The well does have a wonderful tale attached to it. During some renovation work in the early part of the 20th century, a wooden statue of St Mary was found concealed in the well. It is believed that it was hidden from Cromwell’s troops during the Civil War. The statue was found to be in a remarkable state of preservation, maybe due to the miraculous qualities of the sacred well? The statue was given to the Catholic community in 1908 and was sent to Buckfast Abbey for preservation and minor repairs. It is now kept at St Mary’s Abbey in Bodmin. 

The holy well in St Petroc’s churchyard (below) has a dedication to St Guron, the 6th century founder of the site. The holy well’s source rises under the church and flows through the well house and then out into a trough via two gargoyles. Rush crosses were thrown into the well on Good Friday, to confirm who would still be alive at Easter the following year. If the cross floated all was apparently fine.  There is also an early medieval tale told about St Petroc, who miraculously restored the eyesight of a dragon which lived in the valley by the well. 

Nearby, in the town centre lies the Bree Shute which was also known as the Eye Well. The water here was once famed for curing sore eyes, and a plaque above the well still reads ‘Eye Water’. 

On on the edge of the town lies the beautifully secluded Scarletts well. Sited adjacent the Carnewater river it was historically recorded as a mineral rich healing well. Sited by the town’s parish boundary, the well has frequently been visited over successive generations by townsfolk performing the ritual of Beating the Bounds, where an effigy of a dragon was once ceremoniously paraded.   The site is set back into an ivy clad bank, where a spring gushes forth from the hillside and flows into a granite trough which holds the water briefly before its current continues towards the woodland stream. The well was once part of the Priory of Bodiniel and has many stories of healing and miracles associated with it. During the 17th century Richard Carew documented that people flocked to the well for its healing virtues. 

There is some interesting modern folklore attached to Scarletts well, which may have some alluring indications to an older origin. The well is believed to have been used by many of Bodmin’s wise women and charmers, including Nell Parsons, who used the waters to assist in her trade, and her water pitcher (left) now resides in the collection of Boscastle’s Museum of Witchcraft and Magic. The contemporary mythology of Bodmin witch Joan Wytte, tells us that she also utilised the well for scrying, healing and magic.

A few years ago, whilst visiting this well, I struck up a conversation with a local man, who told me that when he was a child, he knew of a tale about a white lady who haunted the leafy lane around the site. I can find no references to back up this statement. However, a curious story is told about St. Whyte, and although this saint has her shrine in Dorset, she may have been venerated at the nearby church of the Holy Rood and has been linked locally to the towns holy wells.  Maybe the tales of Joan Wytte and St Whyte are a folkloric echo of some lost lore of the ghostly white lady of the well? 

Idyllically sited on a farm in Fairwash Coombe lies the Bodmin Holy Well, which was famed for divination.   This ancient holy well is also known as The Well of the Holy Rood. There is no public access to the well, but you can visit the site of the Holy Rood chapel, from whence the well takes its name, and the surrounding cemetery is reputed to be haunted. Berry Tower is the only part of the chapel that is still standing, and an apotropaic charm (below) can be seen scratched inside, no doubt put there to help ward off the restless ghosts around the old churchyard.

Words and photos copyright Alex Langstone. Article first published in Meyn Mamvro Vol. 2 No. 8 Autumn/Winter 2023

A Peek at the Folklore of Mylor and District

 

A Peek at the Folklore of Mylor and District

Alex Langstone

The parish of Mylor has some interesting and little-known folklore, the oldest of which has its origins at the ancient and imposing church, which stands in a large oval churchyard overlooking the creek. As with so many of the early medieval Cornish saints, legend states that St Mylor sailed from Brittany in 411 AD and landed at a creekside location by an ancient freshwater spring and a tall standing stone. Here St Mylor founded his monastic cell in the woods. The holy well and cross can still be found in the churchyard, and the cross is interesting because at five and  a half metres including its foundations, it is the largest churchyard cross in Cornwall. It was probably a bronze age menhir before it was carved with its wheel headed cross design. Locally it is believed to mark St Mylor’s burial spot.

Mylor holy well

On the edge of the ancient woodland of Devichoys, where the parishes of Mylor and Ponsanooth meet, can be found a haunted lane known locally as ‘Irish Woman’s Hill’. It was here that sometime during the first decade of the 21st century, a shimmering ghostly manifestation was seen by a resident making her way home. The lady concerned had just turned onto the old coach road which runs alongside Goonreeve Farm, and ultimately terminates at the town of Penryn. These days the road is little more than an isolated narrow country lane. It was a late summers afternoon, and the driver was shocked to witness an old lady standing in the road as she turned into the lane. She was wearing a long, black skirt and had a black shawl over her head and shoulders. She appeared to be wandering slowly along the lane, stopping every few seconds to catch her breath. The local lady followed cautiously in her car, as she trudged along the old lane and around the bend ahead. But when the driver rounded the corner, the lane was empty and there was no sign of the hunched figure of the old lady. After searching the hedgerows on either side, thinking that she may have stopped for a rest, the perplexed driver carried on her journey, pondering no doubt, about where the black-clad figure had gone. Several years later, the same lady met a man who farmed the land on the corner of said lane, She took the opportunity to ask him about the strange incident. Without hesitation the farmer stated that it was the ghost of an old Irish woman who haunts this lane. It is told that she was on a stagecoach heading to Penryn when she suddenly died. It was frequent practise in those days to bury dead passengers on the roadside where they perished. The field here is known as 'the Irish woman's field' because she is buried there. No-one knew her name, nor where she had come from. Though stories of her ghostly form have often been reported, both during daylight and after dark.[1]

According to some of the older villagers, the lane where she met her demise, which runs from the junction near Devichoys Woods and going towards Penryn, was often referred to as ‘Irish Woman’s Hill’.[2]

The Mayor of Mylor, is an old custom, which traditionally links Mylor parish with Penryn. Traditionally held each Autumn, when the hazel-nuts are ripe, the festival of ‘nutting-day’ is kept. A crowd from the town go into the country to gather nuts. Meanwhile townsfolk would proceed to Mylor, and whilst there, elect one of their number as the sham mayor. Seated in a chair shaded with green boughs, and borne on the shoulders of four strong men, the Mock Mayor and his compatriots process from Mylor to the ancient borough of Penryn. The procession would consist of torch bearers, bodyguards wielding weapons, and two ‘sergeants’ clad in official gowns and raised hats, each wielding a monstrous cabbage on his shoulder in lieu of a mace. The rear was brought up by the throng of the ‘nutters’. As they approached the outskirts of Penryn, the town band would join them and march them joyously into Penryn, where they were received by the massed population of the town. At the town hall speeches were given, and the celebrations went on late into the night, with street fires, music and dancing.[3]

Another amazing tale from the village is The Black Bull of Mylor. I came across this incredible tale many years ago, and it involves the sighting of a ghostly, fire breathing black bull, who is reported to haunt Church Lane between the church wall and Well Ackett:

One night the two men were out on their rounds, and were intending to make their way towards Trefusis Point, so as to pass by the Big Zoon, when after they had passed the church stile they were suddenly brought to a stop―Away in the distance, coming towards them, they could hear a fearful roaring noise; then they could hear the gravel flying, and as the sound came nearer they could make out the form of a big black bull, tearing towards them with fire coming from his nostrils, and roaring something terrible! [4]

The tale seems to originate from the 1830s, when smuggling was still rife around the creeks of the Fal and was probably made up (or kept alive) to keep folk at bay during the illicit operations along the creek after dark.[5]

Church Lane, haunted by the Black Bull

First published in my regular folklore column in Meyn Mamvro Vol. 2 No. 7, Spring/Summer 2023. 

 

---

[1] www.tremaynehall.org/magazine/2015/2015-04comp.pdf Page 18 

[2] www.tremaynehall.org/magazine/2015/2015-10comp.pdf  Page 28

[3] Robert Hunt. Popular Romances of the West of England: Sham Mayors – The Mayor of Mylor

[4] Old Cornwall, volume 1, issue 7, published in April 1928, and written by W. D. Watson.

[5] For a full investigation of this folklore see LienGwerin 7, Feb. 2023, pp 48 - 52

Lien Gwerin 7

Lien Gwerin: A Journal of Cornish Folklore, issue number 7 is now available on general release.

You can order direct from us on the link below. 

https://alexlangstone.bigcartel.com/product/lien-gwerin-7

Alternatively, the issue is now available worldwide. Why not order from your local bookshop? Or online via Amazon or our print-on-demand partner Lulu.com

Contents

The Folklore of the Hal an Tow by Andy Norfolk

The Old Man of Cury by Robert Hunt

Cornish River Lore by Alex Langstone

Folk Dance Collectors in Cornwall by Merv Davey

The Morgawr: Elusive in Sea and Folklore by Ronald M. James

Passing through the Devil’s Eye by Karen F. Pierce

Book Review: Fern Seed & Fairy Rings

Hazel Trees in Cornish Folklore by Rupert White

Black Prince Flower Boat by Kathy Wallis

Obituary: Dr Alan M. Kent

First and Last Folklore by Katie Giles

Plus original art by Paul Atlas-Saunders

Original Art Work for sale by Paul Atlas-Saunders

We now have some of Paul's originals for sale that he produced for my two recent books The Liminal Shore and From Granite to Sea. Check link below for details on how to purchase

www.troybooks.co.uk/catalogue/paul-atlas-sanders-artwork

Devils, Witches and Shucks of the Essex Saltmarsh

Devils, Witches and Shucks of the Essex Saltmarsh

Alex Langstone

The Blackwater estuary is a vast expanse of tidal power, and is a shoreline littered with the ghosts of my ancestors. Here is a strand where the clandestine places of land and sea merge; punctuated with mysterious, secretive, and isolated islands. Osea, Mersea, Ramsey and Northey; Cobmarsh, Pewet and the Ray all sit on the water here, some now more accessible than others; due to land drainage and tidal flux. Here the highest tides bring overspill and nervous excitement that the old alluvial marshes are once more, creeping landwards, reclaiming their mysterious past.

The red ochre sails of traditional barges once plied their trade upon this waterway, which links land, river, and sea to generations of cultural traditions and interesting lore. This magnificent estuary where the river Blackwater meets the North Sea, is recognised as a Ramsar Wetland site of international importance.

It was here, on this eastern coast that in pre-Roman times the Celtic tribe of the Trinovantes held sway. Collaborators of Boudica and the Iceni, there isn’t much now to show they were here, but the ghosts of this lost British tribe survive deep within the land and on the tides. 

Thames barges at Hythe Quay, Maldon. 

These low lying and desolate salt marshes of the Essex shore are eerily beautiful in their bleakness. The marshy lip of the coastline between Brightlingsea and Maldon is particularly stunning and  most definitely enchanted. This estuarial district of mid-Essex was once the hub of eighteenth-century smugglers, as barges could be sailed right to the head of the many creeks of the district, and Salcott Creek was at the centre of the illicit operations, where cargoes were unloaded and thrown into a marshy pool. The  pool was actually a pond, which had been built with a false wooden bottom, which could be drained to retrieve the goods once it was safe to do so. Many of the old houses facing Salcott creek were lookouts for the illicit traders and hurricane lamps were put into top windows to warn that it was not safe to land.   

Just to the west of Salcott lays the moated site of Devil’s Wood. This site is linked to the folklore of the Devil and Barn Hall. This traditional old Essex folk horror narrative is a classic example of diabolical devil lore, with layers of interesting themes to explore. The basic folk legend goes something like this - 

One day, a local squire decided to build Barn Hall in what was known as Devil’s Wood. Soon after the builders had begun to dig the foundations on the small island in the centre of the wood, strange occurrences had begun. It was hoped that by building the new hall at this spot would forever thwart the Devil’s sabbaticals from gathering in their traditional meeting place. Each morning, when the builders returned, they found the trenches they had dug had been filled in. This went on for a few days, so in desperation, the squire ordered that a guard be put on duty during the night, to find out what was happening. On the first night the guard heard someone approaching.

"Who goes there!" he shouted. "I, Satan and my hounds," was the reply.

The guard replied, "This place is protected by God and me."  The Devil and his hell hounds turned and fled. On the second night the Devil once more appeared. Again, the guardsman inquired as to who was there, and again Old Nick revealed himself and his pack of demon dogs. Only this time the guard made the mistake of declaring that only he was protecting the site, and not God. On hearing this, the Devil picked up a piece of building timber and declared “Wherever this timber falls, you shall build Barn Hall". The Dark Lord threw the timber high into night sky, and it twisted and turned over and over until it landed a mile or so to the west. The demon hounds then surrounded the guardsman, preventing any escape.

 The Devil turned upon him, and with the hounds baying, ripped out his heart. The Devil then vowed that he would have the man’s soul whether he was buried inside the church or out. It was eventually decided that he should be buried within the church wall. There are those who say, that if you look closely, you can make out the Evil One's claw marks on the walls of All Saints parish church, where he tried in vain to search out his soul.

In the north wall of the church at Tolleshunt Knights you can still see an effigy of a knight holding his heart. The Devil’s hounds, incidentally, are said to haunt the nearby marshes on stormy nights, and the folklore of the Tolleshunt Knights Devil may indicate that we have recovered some lost wild hunt lore of the Essex coast, where the Devil and his demon hounds chase across the sky and into the grainy swamps of Salcott Creek. Here, under the light of the full moon and glistening stars, they continue to haunt the marshes and collect the lost souls of long dead bargees and fishermen of the past.

The beam, which the Devil threw up the hill was incorporated into the cellar of Barn Hall, which can apparently still be seen today. However, it would be an unwise to attempt to view it, as the Devil placed a curse on the beam, so that anyone who dared to enter the cellar would receive his deadly spell. Barn Hall was built at the beginning of the sixteenth century, so the tale can probably be traced back to this time, if not earlier.

The haunted Devil's Wood at Salcott, which hides an ancient moat and island, the secretive home of the Devil and his ghostly hounds.

The fields surrounding Devil’s Wood are believed to be haunted by strange beings. An account from the 1980s gives us a clue as to how the area can cause panic through its eerie reputation and unusual atmosphere.   

The harvest had been completed, and the farmer was keen to get the field ploughed before the weather broke. He asked his son to plough the field into the evening, and the young farmer ended up using the powerful floodlights on the tractor to get the job finished. As the darkness of night fell across the land, the tractor driver began to glimpse movement along the edge of the field. At first, he thought that he was seeing a fox on her twilight hunt, but as he continued to plough his furrows, he began to feel very uneasy. He was convinced that he was being watched and he kept seeing and hearing movement close to his tractor. A large dark shape then cut across his path, and in a panic, he stalled the tractor. As he tried to restart the engine, he became aware that something unseen and malevolent was trying to open the tractor door; he turned the key again, now frantic to escape. The engine spluttered into life, and he headed off at full speed across the ploughed field. The tractor was bouncing around dangerously, but the young farmer wanted to get away from the terrifying dark field as soon as he could. He eventually reached the road and he headed home. The field was sold soon after this incident, and folk are still wary of driving past it at night.

The plough and sail village of Tollesbury lies on the northern bank of the Blackwater estuary and is almost completely surrounded by salt marsh, reed beds, creeks, fleets and saltings. This area is a truly wild part of the Essex shore, with little development, and is home to a huge variety of wildlife. Although once extinct, this part of the coast is now, once again, the domain of Marsh Harriers and Short-Eared Owls. At the end of the nineteenth century there were close on one hundred fishing smacks operating from Tollesbury Fleet, and oyster fishing was the main industry. The village has always been reliant on both the sea and the lands fringing the salt marsh for agriculture.

The old wind-blasted woods on the edge of the saltmarsh around Tollesbury are said to be ‘devil ridden’ and have been rumoured to have attracted the ghosts of many local witches and others practising the old folkways and magical arts. Related to this is the local ghost-lore of a phantom druid, who manifests once a month under the light of the full moon. During this time, he appears in all his ceremonial regalia in the woods on the edge of the mire. 

These ancient saltings on the north shore of the Blackwater estuary are also home to the ghostly Black Shuck or Phantom Seadog. One tale tells us that William Fell, marshman and gamekeeper, was travelling home one dark night from Peldon. His horse and trap was trundling along the Wigborough Road towards Tolleshunt D’Arcy when a huge black dog as big as a calf, and with eyes like bike lamps mysteriously appeared and followed the trap right up to Guisnes Court.   Another tale tells us that on a frosty and moonlit January night at the stroke of midnight, a local girl was cycling from Salcott to Tollesbury to fetch the midwife. There was one spot along the road that she always hated, by the lane to Gorwell Hall, known locally as Jordan’s Green. This isolated spot had always been feared and disliked, as it is where a man was once buried with a stake through his heart, giving rise to all sorts of gossip, including that of a vampire.   It was at this spooky spot, where the cyclist saw a large black dog, its head level with her handlebars, and whose body was as at least as big as her bicycle.  The dog was reported to have a black coat which looked unkempt, and a huge tongue which looked like velvet. It kept pace with the girl until she reached Seabrooks Lane when it disappeared. The girl eventually reached the midwife, and on her way back, the dog again appeared at the junction with Gorwell Hall Lane, where it appeared so large that she could barely cycle around it.   Gorwell Hall Lane is also the spot where a mysterious ghostly white lady can sometimes be seen, and nearby during the 1960s a cyclist reported being attacked by a large black dog at dusk, whilst travelling down the coast road, towards Goldhanger. He apparently leapt off his bike to scare the animal, and it promptly vanished before his eyes.

Belief in witches and magic was still rife up to the beginning of the first world war, and the following accounts are from the early part of the twentieth century. 

A local counter witchcraft charm was practised in and around Tollesbury, called branding the witch. This involved cutting a piece of your own toenail and placing it with a lock of hair from the person who had cursed you. These were both thrown into a fire. Immediately afterwards, you should place a poker into the fire, and allow it to get red hot. It was then slowly withdrawn from the flames, and as you did so, this would brand the witch and break the spell. The cursing culprit could then be identified, as he or she would show burn marks on their bodies.

Tollesbury waterside, where the old sea witches once plied their trade

Another counter witchcraft charm was used when someone had been ‘overlooked’ by a witch. You should light the copper and get the water almost to the boil. Set the ‘overlooked’ or ‘cursed’ person down by the water, and place one of their legs into it. You should get the person to keep the leg in as long as they could bear it. Then put them to bed. The following day the person was healed. However, the witch would be suffering with a scalded leg, so was identified.

Tollesbury folk had yet another way of identifying a witch. It was believed that if you saw a mouse and a cat eating from the same dish, the owner was a witch. Mice were favoured creatures of the Essex marsh wizards and witches, who kept them as familiars to help make magic. One Tollesbury sea witch was suspected of bewitching her son’s oyster smack.  Each time he dredged for oysters, he would overshoot the spot. Unfortunately, there are no records of any names in this piece of sea-witch-lore. There was also a gypsy witch who travelled around the village, and at least two others who lived in the village, who had reputations as cunning folk, and were consulted about things strange and uncanny and children were warned not to look at the cottage where one of them lived. 

The parish church of St Mary the Virgin sits upon the highest point in the village and parts of the building date from the eleventh century. The ancient churchyard is haunted by the ghost of a white rabbit which is reported to appear and run around the graves on some of the darkest nights of the year. 

To the north-east, towards Brightlingsea, the Devil haunts the marshy promontory between Pyfleet Channel and South Geedon Creek. There was once an old weather-boarded shepherd’s cottage called ‘Found Out’ on the edge of the marsh. It sat by an old pond at the end of the old cart track from Langenhoe Hall Farm. The old cottage arrived at its unusual name through a strange old folk tale. 

When the Lord God made the world, this was the last place He found out – and the owd Davvil was a-living here then. 

This little shard of marshy land to the north of Mersea Island is the Devil’s country, and another story concerning the ‘Owd Davvil’ has him joining the twelve strong mowing gang as the thirteenth stranger called Hoppin’ Tom. This was originally recounted by marshman, adder-catcher, bull-tamer and poacher, Ted Allen, and was told something like this -

Once, long ago, a gang of twelve men was sent to mow Langenhoe Marsh, and very soon after they began work, a mysterious stranger surreptitiously joined them. The men were soon feeling irritated, as he mowed faster than any of them, and as a result, he earned much more money. Then one chap spied that he had cloven hooves and knew at once that he must be the Devil. Subsequently, the mowing gang formed a plan, and they had thrown down a load of iron bars in the long grass overnight.  The following morning, ’the Owd Davvil’ mowed through the iron with ease, it was like they were made of butter. But later when he came to draw his pay, the farmer spied his hooves, and exclaimed “You’re the Davvil called Hoppin’ Tom, and I won’t pay you” and the Devil let out ‘a shrik like an owl and flew off in a sheet o’ flame’. As Tom flew off, he threw his drinking bowl into the field, and that’s why we still call the small pond the ‘Davvil’s Drink Bowl’ to this day. We never saw Hoppin Tom again after that; well not us, anyway.  

Hidden within this old folk tale, we may have a folkloric echo that leads us into the secretive world of traditional marsh-magic, where twelve members met with the leader of their clan, to make the witchy number of thirteen. Perhaps it was on the very cusp of Langenhoe Marsh, that the leader of this mysterious group was once known as “The Owd Davvil  Hoppin’ Tom”.

The above excerpts are taken from my recent book - The Liminal Shore: Witchcraft, Mystery & Folklore of the Essex Coast, published by Troy Books.

For more tales of witchcraft, mystery and magic of the Essex coast, please click the book cover, which will take you to my publishers website, where you can purchase a copy of The Liminal Shore

"Thoroughly steeped in a sense of place..all in all it's a cracking book, and a must be for would-be marsh wizards, psych geographers and folklorists alike"  The Enquiring Eye

“This book will be read in the decades to come, still delivering stabs of  wonder and delight”  David Southwell. @HooklandGuide

"Highly recommended - a very good and informative read"  Nigel G Pearson

Photographs copyright Alex Langstone. Illustrations copyright Paul Atlas-Saunders.