A litterary Launceston Ghost Story

The ornate porch of Saint Mary Magdalene Church Launceston - image by Derek Harper [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (www.creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

"Mrs. Bray, in her General Preface prefixed to the first volume of the reprint, in series, of her Novels and Romances, when giving an account of the circumstances on winch she founded her very graphic and interesting romance of Trelawny of Trelaume, says —

" In Gilbert's Hillary of Cornwall, I saw a brief but striking ace unit, written by a Doctor Ruddell, a clergyman of Launceston, respecting a ghost which (in the year 1665) be had seen and laid to rest, that in the first instance had haunted a poor lad, the son of a Mr. Bligh, in his way to school, in a place called the 'Higher Broom Field.' This grave relation showed, I thought, the credulity of the times in which the author of it lived; and so I determined to have doctor, boy, and ghost in my story. But whereas, in the worthy divine's account of the transaction, the ghost appears to come on earth for no purpose whatever (unless it be to frighten the poor boy), I resolved to give the spirit something to do in such post-mortem visitations, and that the object of them should be of import to the tale. Accordingly, I made boy, doctor, and the woman (who is said after her death to have appeared to the lad) into characters, invented a story for them, and gave them adventures."

Mrs. Bray adds —

" Soon after the publication of Trelawny, my much esteemed friend, the Rev. F. V. I\ Arundell *, informed me, that, whilst engaged in his antiquarian reseaiches in Cornwall, he found among some old and original papers the manuscript account, in Dr. Ruddell's own hand- writing, of his encounter with the ghost in question.

This he lent Gilbert, who inserted it in his History of Cornwall ; and there I first saw it, as stated above. A few months ago, I purchased some of the reprinted volumes ofthe Works of Daniel de Foe. Among these was the Life of Mr. Duncan Campbell, a fortuneteller.

To my great surprise, I found inserted in the Appendix (after verses to Mr. Duncan Campbell), without either name of the author, reference, or introduction, under the heading, ' A remarkable Passage of an Apparition, 1665,' no other than Dr. Ruddell's account of meeting the ghost which had haunted the boy, so much the same as that I had read in Gilbert, that it scarcely seemed to differ from it in a word. The name of Mr. Bligh, the father of the boy, was, however, omitted ; and Dr. Ruddell could only be known as the author of the account by the lad's father calling the narrator Mr. Ruddell, in their discourse about the youth. The account is so strangely inserted in the Appendix to the volume, without comment or reference, that, had I not previously known the circumstances above named by Mr. Arundell, I should have fancied it a fiction of De Foe himself, like the story of the ghost of Mrs. Veal, prefixed to Drelincourt on Death.

" Aware that Mr. Arundell had no idea that Ruddell's ghost story was to be found in any work previous to Gilbert's, I lost no time in communicating to that gentleman what I could not but deem a very curious discovery. He assured me there could be no mistake as to the genuineness of the ghost document he had found, as he had compared the manuscript with Ruddell's hand-writing in other papers, and saw it was one and the same. Soon after, Mr. Arundell favoured me with some further information on the subject, which I here give, as it adds still more to the interest of the story : — ' Looking into Gilbert's History of Cornwall, in the parish of South Petherwin, there is said to be in the old mansion of Botathan five portraits of the Bligh family ; one of them is the likeness of the boy, whose intimacy with the ghost of Dorothy Durant has been spoken of in his first volume, where she is erroneously called Dingley. If this be a fact, it is very interesting ; for it is strange that both Mr. Ruddell, the narrator (whose manuscript 1 lent to Gilbert), and De Foe, should have called her Dingley. I have no doubt it was a fictitious name, for I never heard of it in Launceston or the neighbourhood ; whereas Durant is the name of an ancient Cornish family : and I remember a tall, respectable man of that name in Launceston, who died at a very advanced age ; very probably a connexion of the Ghost Lady. He must have been born about 1730. Durant was probably too respectable a name to be published, and hence the fictitious one.' Mr. Arundell likewise says, ' In Launceston Church is a monument to Charles Bligh and Judith his wife, who died, one in 1716, and the other in 1717. He is said to have been sixty years old, and was probably the brother of Samuel, the hero of Dorothy Dingley. Sarah, the wife of the Rev. John Ruddell, has a monument also in Launceston Church. She died in 1667. Mr. Ruddell was Vicar of Aternon in 1684. He was the minister of Launceston in 1665, when he saw the ghost who haunted the boy.'"

Such is Mrs. Bray's account of these very curious circumstances. The ghost story inserted in Gilbert, as mentioned above, is altogether so much in the style of De Foe, that a doubt remains whether, after all, he may not have been the author of it. Can " D. S.," or any of your readers, throw further light on the subject ? D. S. Y."

NOTES AND QUERIES. [No. 16. Feb. 16. 1850.]

Map - Launceston 

Mention of the White Bird of Oxenham

The White Bird of the Oxenhams - In Baring Gould 1908 by JAMES OXENHAM [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

"...The portrait, painted by the hand of a spectre, and the phantom, whose occasional appearance on earth is mysteriously connected with that terrible portrait, and whose kiss is the signal of death to every successive member of the family to which it belongs, are manifest improvements on such traditions as those of the White Lady of the house of Brandenburg, the Fairy Melusine, whose appearance used constantly to prognosticate the recurrence of mortality in some noble family of Poitou; the White Bird which, as Prince records in his Worthies of Devon, was in the habit of performing the same office for the worshipful lineage of Oxenham."

Extract from - PHANTASMAGORIANA; Ou Recueil d'Historics a? Apparitions, de Spectres, de Revenans, Fantomes, ect. Traduit de FAUemand, par un Amateur. Paris. 2 tomes 12mo. TALES OF THE DEAD, PRINCIPALLY TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH.

In Blackwood's Edingburgh Magazine 1818

Map - Oxenham Arms
Map - South Tawton

The Irish Lady - a ghostly rock - Part 1

The Irish Lady is in the bottom right of the picture, Land's End is top right. Image by © Copyright Graham Horn and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence.

"Near Pedn-men-dw, the "Headland of Black Rock," is a curiously-shaped rock, known as the Irish Lady. In days long ago some adventurous sailors from Ireland were shipwrecked at night on this rock, and every soul perished, save a lady, who was seen in the morning sitting on the top of the rock. The storm was still raging, and it was quite impossible to render this solitary sufferer any assistance. Days and nights passed away the people watched the dying woman from the shore, but they could not reach her. At length they saw that her sufferings were at an end; and at last the dead body was washed into the sea. Often, when the winds and waves are high, the fishermen see a lady tranquilly sitting on this rock, with a rose in her mouth; to show, it may be presumed, her perfect indifference to the ragings of tempests..." [cont...]

Hunt 1903

Some more Chagford Pixies

A Pixie Door I made - more here

 [Someone told me recently that when the pixies are about she finds it hard to get her horses out of the stable. She cannot see anything but the horses behave very differently. She also said that there where?boggarts? that got inside the plastic feedbags on windy days and would drag them around, like the wind would, only with more sentience, deliberately moving them just beyond her reach!.

She also reported a mother and daughter who lived in the parish ("who looked a bit fey") who frequently saw pixies. I know which hamlet they live in but I wont say it here, for I haven't asked them permission.

She also talked of several ghosts in the parish, one of whom could be detected by the sent of his pipe, who was a very friendly and amenable sort of fellow. She had a name for him (he may have been the shade of a former resident - not sure) but I have mislaid the paper I wrote it on. The scent was unusual because the whole hose had been redecorated and carpeted, and the pipe smell would move through the building!]

'Purty Jane' - a ghostly folksong mentioning Chagford

Morris Dancer on a Chagford street - Picture by Lunar Hine, my wife!

'Twuz down by the river I fust met my purty Jane,
Upon a zummer's eveling when the zin wuz on the wane,
Her little veet they twinkled as her trip'd o'er meaders bright,
And my heart 'e whisper'd zoftly, "Bill, did'st ivver zee such zight ?"

Not nivver in my born days did I zee a maid zo fair,
Her made my heart go pity-pat and her riz on end my hair.
And I axed her vur to come back but her ciidden then, her zed,
And on her sped like lightning, across the level mead.

I yerd the birds a-zinging, as I corned up dru the lane,
And I thort they zed " Bill ! Bill ! thee shet have thy purty Jane,"
Ah ! 'twuz music sweeter var, than I ivver yerd avore,
It often gied me comfort digging peat pin tap the moor.

Wan Zummer Zinday morning when the bells wuz ringing sweet,
I meet my love a-coming up old Chagford's pleasant street,
I tiiked courage there and then, and I up and told my love, 

And her zed, " Dear Bill, I'll have thee," and her spoke jist like a dove.

But her nivver lived to do it vur her pined away and died,
Jist on the day, her zed her'd be my bonny little bride.
Now often when I'm walking down in yonder meaders bright,
I zee her right avore me, like an angel in the light.

And I yer her sweet voice zaying "Bill, Bill, be not afeared,
Thee shet zee in heavenly places thy loving little maid,
Oh ! 'tez that which gives me peace as I walks in in field and lane,
Vur if I live a true life, I shall zee my purty Jane.

Elias Tozer, Exeter.'

Hewett, 1900

Map - Chagford

A Short Stutter of Folklore

Cresswell 1921

[I love American tourists! Please don't be offended, I have met some very intelligent and wise USA tourists, but there is 'another sort'.  I remember wandering behind two American grockles (tourists) in the Royal Albert Memorial Museum in Exeter listening to their running commentary of the Prehistoric gallery.  They passed the desplays of palaeolithic hand axes at a brisk walking pace, the parents exclaiming to their bored child "Wow!  Wow! Wow! Some of these are hundreds of years old!" 

All the implements where over 10,000 years old...  

This is the sort of people I was put in mind of when I found out why the biggest hits I get on this blog includes the following - 

widecombe england haunted

widecombe haunted

widdecombe haunted

haunted widecombe

widdecombe haunted town

widecombe haunted town

widecombe england haunted town

is widecombe england haunted

It turns out some American actor came to Dartmoor on his honeymoon in the 1980's, and went to Widdecombe where he encountered lots of quiet people in black looking sad. Strangely he didn't think - 'oh, a funeral', but 'oh, the entire town is haunted'. Having heard in the next village of the collapse of Widdecombe church tower  he naturally concluded that all the inhabitants where dead ghosts... 30 years on and he has included his experiences in a TV documentary!

Another little bit for today - My wife overheard a grandmother at our child's playgroup that a certain village near here was "the last village that God built". Unfortunately she has forgotten what village it was!  

And one last thing -  please excuse this little bit of administrative help I need - could I ask if anyone can see any adverts (besides my 'Perpetual Calendars for Sale')?

Oh, and there was an earthquake today, centered on Bovey Tracey!]

The stories of Devonshire

May Day 2011 near Chagford, Dartmoor - If you want to use this image please attribute this blog

"The marvellous tales of supernatural visitations, death omens, apparitions, charms for healing the sick and the bewitched, with cursings and blessings, would fill many volumes. I can only furnish a few examples and hope they may prove interesting to the reader. 

One dear old country woman, who was never tired of telling me all the witch lore she could collect, one day, said, " Ave I askeed ee missus by telling ee thease yer discoose ? If zo be I've a gallied ee, I be main put about, but whot I dii tell 'e is true. Ess fy tez ! Ess by gor missus ! Ess fy !""

Hewet 1900



[I am rather sad Hewett didn't set about filling these potential volumes - she could have been the Robert Hunt of Devonshire]

Lightning protection of church bells

A contemporary woodcut of The Great Thunderstorm, Widecombe, Dartmoor, Devon, England which occurred in 1638.  Any lightning defense attempted here obviously didn't work very well!

"IN ancient times church bells were anointed with holy oil, exorcised, and blessed by the bishop, from a belief that when these ceremonies had been performed, they had the power to drive the devil out of the air, to calm tempests, protect from lightning, and keep away the plague.

The passing bell was anciently rung to bespeak the prayers of all Christian people for a soul just departing, and to drive away the evil spirit who stood at the bed's foot to hinder its passage to the other world.

Men's death I tell by doleful knell,
Lightning and thunder I break asunder,
The winds so fierce I do disperse,
Men's cruel rage I do assuage.

A very frequent inscription on church bells in the fifteenth century, was voce mea viva depells cunta nociva.

This is a proof of the belief that demons were frightened away by the sound of bells."

Hewett 1900

[Again - Caution should be taken with Sarah Hewetts work - while it is ostensibly to do with Devon, and has many uniquely Devon stories in it, it is sometimes hard to ascertain when she is referring to a Devon tradition, and when it is simply a general British or European thing. In this case I am giving her the benefit of the doubt, and including it because of the inscription.  I have no idea whether this was ever written on any Devon bell though!]

The Black Dog of Roborough - part 1

Black Dog - By Liza Phoenix (Own work) [CC-BY-3.0 (www.creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

 

"A MAN having to walk from Princetown to Plymouth took the road which crosses Roborough Down. He started at four o'clock from the Duchy Hotel, and as he walked at a good swinging pace, hoped to cover the sixteen miles in about three hours and a half' It was a lovely evening in December, cold and frosty, the stars and a bright moon giving enough light to enable him to see the roadway distinctly zigzagged across the moor. Not a friendly pony or a quiet Neddy crossed his path as he strode merrily onward whistling as he went. After a while the desolation of the scene seemed to strike him, and he felt terribly alone among the boulders and huge masses of gorse which hemmed him in. On, on he pressed, till he came to a village where a wayside inn tempted him to rest awhile and have just one nip of something "short" to keep his spirits up.

Passing the reservoir beds, he came out on an open piece of road, with a pine copse on his right. Just then he fancied he heard the pit-pat of feet gaining upon him. Thinking it was a pedestrian bound for Plymouth, he turned to accost his fellow traveller, but there was no one visible, nor were any footfalls then audible. Immediately on resuming his walk, pit-pat, pit-pat, fell the echoes of feet again. And suddenly there appeared close to his right side an enormous dog, neither mastiff or bloodhound, but what seemed to him to be a Newfoundland of immense size. Dogs were always fond of him, and he of them, so he took no heed of this (to him) lovely canine specimen. Presently he spoke to him. "Well, doggie, what a beauty you are : how far are you going ?" at the same time lifting his hand to pat him. Great was the man's astonishment to find no resisting substance, though the form was certainly there, for his hand passed right through the seeming body of the animal. " Hulloh ! what's this ?" said the bewildered traveller. As he spoke the great glassy eyes gazed at him ; then the beast yawned, and from his throat issued a stream of sulphurous breath. Well, thought the man, I am in for it now ! I'll trudge on as fast as legs can carry me, without letting this queer customer think I am afraid of him. With heart beating madly and feet actually flying over the stony way, he hurried down the hill, the dog never for a moment leaving him, or slackening his speed..." [cont.]

Hewett 1900

South Tawton ghost cow punishment

South Tawton - the oak tree in the top left was planted to replace an elm that died that had been the village Cross Tree - By Nilfanion (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0 (www.creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0) or GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html)], via Wikimedia Commons

"At a hamlet near the parish of South Tawton, a small town on the borders of Dartmoor, there is an interesting story told of a ghost which assumes the form of a remarkably handsome Guernsey Cow, and appears at midnight promenading to and fro under the spreading branches of an avenue of elm trees. It is said that a lady having done some terrible deed of darkness was transformed into a cow and condemned to walk nightly in this avenue for seventy times seventy years, bellowing frantically in token of the agonies experienced by this unhappy creature during her long term of punishment."

Hewett 1900

Map - South Tawton

Devon Dreams D - F

"The following few examples shew " the stuff which dreams are made of."

Dancing. 
This is fortunate. You will gain riches, honour, and many friends. Your life will be long, happy, and prosperous.

The Dead.
To dream of the dead brings news of the living.

Ducks.
To see them in a pond swimming about is an omen of good luck.

Eggs. 
That you are eating eggs shews you will be delivered from great tribulation. That you break them when raw, shews loss of friends and fortune.

Empty Vessels
Shew that your life will be one of toil and privation.

Eating.
Portends sickness and death.

Fish.
To dream of fish shows that you will have an abundance of wealth and good things. Also that you will be successful in love.

Fire.
To dream of fire shews that you will have hasty news.

Flowers.
Always a good dream ; is a sure sign of of joy, success and prosperity. "

Hewett 1900

Salting the corpse in Devon

Salt - By Mark Schellhase (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0 (www.creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0) or GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html)], via Wikimedia Commons

"An old nurse once told me that if a plate of salt be placed on the breast of a corpse, it would help the dead to rest peacefully, as it kept evil spirits from tormenting the soul on its journey through the dark valley."

Hewett 1900

The Irish Lady

The Irish Lady rock - Some rights reserved by polandeze  http://www.flickr.com/photos/polandeze/376377756/sizes/z/in/photostream/

"For the above incidents, and for some other legendary stories, we are indebted to Mr. Hunt, who collected and published them in his " Popular Romances of the West of England." From these and from other sources we have also learned from what the rock called the "the Irish Lady," near Pedn-men-dhu (the headland of Biack Rock), takes its name. It is a pathetic story. In a terrible storm an Irish vessel was one night wrecked on this rock. Only one of her passengers-none of the crew-escaped; and this was a lady, who was seen the next morning sitting on the top of the rock. The fishermen would have been rejoiced to rescue her, had it been possible; but it was not The wind and waves rendered the rock inaccessible while the storm lasted, and it continued for two days and nights. When at last it ceased, the lady had disappeared she had probably fainted from exhaustion, and had been washed away by the waves. What her feelings must have been, sitting there in sight of land, and of human beings powerless to help her, we can only dimly imagine. Long afterwards the fishers of the Land's End used to declare that they saw her seated on the rock, and heard her wailing cry, whenever the storm was at its height.

Sir Humphrey Davy wrote a poem on this tragical occurrence."

Valentine (undated)

Map - The Irish Lady

Ghostly boat of the Bottoms - Part 1

Barque from helicopter, Cook Strait, New Zealand 1988 http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.5/

"This valley [from Porthcurno] (called the Bottoms) is a very weird, melancholy-looking place, with much marshy ground in it; and few people care to cross it at night, it is so lonely and dreary; it also bears the reputation of being haunted, as Croft Pasco Pool is, by a ghostly vessel, and till quite of late years the tale was believed by the fisher folk.

The apparition appeared on the sea about nightfall, when mists were rising from the marshes in the Bottoms. It sailed through the breakers that foam over the dangerous rocks that fringe the shore glided over the sands, and sailed on a long way up the valley to Bodelan, or Bodellen, where St. Levan formerly dwelt; it then directed its course to Chygwiden, and there utterly vanished. It was a black, squarerigged, single-masted barque, and had usually, but not always, a boat with it. No crew were ever seen; it is supposed they were down below. It is said to be an ill omen to see this ghostly vessel, and that the sight of it forebodes misfortune.

The reason of its appearance is, according to tradition, that a stranger, many a long year ago, returned from sea and took up his abode at Chygwiden. He had with him a foreign servant, dark and evil looking, who never spoke to any one but his master, being probably unable to speak English. It was whispered that the pair had been Pirates or buccaneers.... [cont.]

Valentine (undated)

The Lady and the Lantern - Saint Ives

The Shipwreck - by Ivan Aivasovsky

"There is a pathetic ghost story attached to the St. Ives' sands. It was a year of storms at the close of the last century, and many wrecks were seen on the rock-bound coast, when one evening the St. Ives' people perceived a large ship, close to the fatal rocks. The crew perceived their danger, as well as the townsmen had, and did their best to save themselves.

But all their efforts were vain. The ship parted her anchors, swing round, struck violently on a rock, and her mast went by the board. The waves swept over her; but the brave and kindly fishermen of St. Ives at once went to her assistance, through the driving storm.

They succeeded in getting near the ship, but not alongside, and they called to the sailors to throw them ropes, by the aid of which several escaped, and were hauled into the boat.

But on the deck there stood a lady with an infant in her arms. They begged her to give the child to a strong man, while they tried to pass her to the boat. But she refused, and tightly clasping her babe, she was lowered into the sea, and the fishermen drew her rapidly into the boat. But she had fainted during the transit, and the infant had been washed from her arms and lost. With the lady, and as many of the crew as they had saved, the fishermen returned to the shore. But when the mother recovered, and found that her child was lost, she sank under the blow, and died. She was buried in St. Ives' churchyard. Soon afterwards a spectral form was seen passing from the churchyard wall, and walking towards the Island. Then it appeared to be diligently searching the sands. When nights were tempestuous and dark, the same form was seen, still earnestly searching, but with a lantern in its hand; it is the mother seeking for her child, who might have been saved if she had let the seaman take it. Death cannot quench a mother's love and remorse.

This appearance is called "The Lady with the Lantern." It is always seen moving over the rocks which run into the sea from the eastern side of the point called the Island, and is supposed to predict stormy weather.

May there be a scientific reason for such a wandering light appearing before a storm?"

Valentine (undated)

Map - Saint Ives

The Theiving Gentry of Woody Bay Part 1

Blunderbuss by Sopoforic

"There is a legend about Woody Bay, that is almost too strange for fiction and which has, we believe, already taken its place in a very clever collection of Cornish stories and legends by Mr. Hunt. It may belong to both counties.

There was a certain squire living near Woody Bay, who was a great gambler, and was therefore often in want of money. On one occasion when fortune had deserted him, and he was nearly penniless, he had recourse to burglary for a supply. It was the day before rent day, and he knew that the tenant of one of his largest farms would have the money in his house ready for the payment of his rent. He determined to break into his house and take the money. He would not be seen or recognised, and the farmer would still be obliged to pay his rent. With this villainous project in his head, he dressed himself in rough shooting clothes, took a pair of pistols, and set out for the farm. Here he tried to break open a window, but made so much noise that the farmer heard him, and shot him with a blunderbuss just as he was half-way into the house.

After this the ghost of the squire haunted the farm. Things went very badly with the farmer, his crops failed, his stock died, and it was all laid to the charge of the squire's ghost; so, in his despair the poor man applied to the parson of Trentishoe to lay the spirit. The parson came, but all his exorcisms were of no avail: the ghost still "revisited the glimpses of the moon," and ill fortune still befell the farmer. He applied for advice to a "wise man" living at Exeter..." [cont.]

Valentine (undated)

Glonhilly (Goonhilly?) - Lugger of Croft Pasco Pool

Croft Pascoe Pool

  © Copyright Chris Towner and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence.

"In the midst of the dreary waste of Glonhilly, which occupies a large portion of the Lizard promontory, is a large piece of water known as the Croft Pasco Pool, where it is said at night the form of a ghostly vessel may be seen floating with lug sails spread. A more dreary, weird spot could hardly be selected for a witches' meeting, and the Lizard folks were always--a fact--careful to be back before dark, preferring to suffer inconvenience to risking a sight of the ghostly lugger. Unbelieving people attributed the origin of the tradition to a white horse seen in a dim twilight, standing in the shallow water; but this was indignantly rejected by the mass of residents. (Hunt's Popular Romances of England, 1st Series, P. 299.)"

Hope 1893

Map -  Croft Pasco Pool

[Here is an art project based on the story]

Apparition of Coach and Horses

"I have heard tell of a coach and horses that is said to haunt the old coach road in Harcombe, Uplyme, but as a recent resident (1985!) am not privy to any other stories."

From Uplyme resident

Cheney's Hounds

'IN the parish of St Teath, a pack of hounds was once kept by an old squire named Cheney. How he or they died I cannot learn; but on "Cheney Downs" the ghosts of the dogs are sometimes seen, and often heard, in rough weather.

In the western parishes of the county, I can name several places which are said to be haunted by the "wish hounds." [a]

[a] See Athenaeum, No. 1013, March 27, 1847. See Appendix L for Notes on the BARGEST.'

Hunt 1903

Dosemary Pool - part 4

'...This is a delusion caused by enchantment; Goonhylda still lives. Tregeagle offers himself to Goonhylda, who rejects his suit with scorn, and desires to leave the castle. Tregeagle coolly informs her that she cannot quit the place; Goonhylda threatens him with her father's vengeance. She is a prisoner, but her page contrives to make his escape, and in the evening arrives at Launceston Castle gate. The Earl of Cornwall, hearing from the page that his daughter lives and is a prisoner, arms himself and all his retainers --

"And em the greye morne peep'd. the eastern hills o'er,
At Tregeagle's gate sounded hys home."

Tregeagle will not obey the summons, but suddenly "they hearde the Black Hunter's dread voyce in the wynde!"

"They heard hys curate hell-houndes runn,yelping behynde,
And his steede thundered loude on the eare!"

This gentleman in black shakes the castle with his cry, "Come forth, Sir Tregeagle! come forth and submit to thy fate!" Of course he comes forth, and "the rede bolte of vengeaunce shot forth wyth a glare, and strooke him a corpse to the grounde!"

"Then from the black corpse a pale spectre appear'd,
And hyed him away through the night."

Goonhylda is of course found uninjured, and taken home by the earl. The castle disappears and Dozmare Pool re-appears; but --

"Stylle as the traveller pursues hys lone waye,
In horroure at nyghte o'er the waste,
He hears Syr Tregeagle with shrieks rushe away
He hears the Black Hunter pursuing his preye,
And shrynkes at bys bugle's dread blaste."'

Hunt 1903