Folklore of Lincolnshire

by Susanna O'Neill

  The tale goes, however, that the gypsies rammed a gatepost in their haste to flee the scene of the crime and ripped the bottom from their boat. They could not swim and so clung onto the gatepost shouting for help. The locals, finding the poor dead man, decided to teach the gypsies a lesson and tied his dead body on the gatepost with them for a day and a night!

  Water, in whatever guise, is the stuff of life and Lincolnshire certainly has its fair share of both. The multitude of stories and legends connected to the Fens, marshes, rivers and the sea are colourful and varied and these tales, along with the beauty of the area, make it a wonderful place to visit.

  THREE

  BLACK DOGS AND

  STRANGE ENCOUNTERS

  The Black Dog is a frequently reported apparition in British folklore; an unusually large, jet black, dog-like beast, often with glowing eyes, appearing in solitary places. Every county has its stories of this sinister phenomenon, each with a differing name; in Lincolnshire they are called either Black Shuck or Hairy Jack.

  It is said that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle took inspiration from tales of the Yeth Hounds, the beasts that are said to roam Dartmoor, when he wrote The Hound of the Baskervilles. Other famous authors have absorbed some of this folklore into their writings, such as Charlotte Brontë in Jane Eyre, showing the sightings and tales were well enough known to be included in popular writing.

  The din was on the causeway: a horse was coming…In those days I was young, and all sorts of fancies bright and dark tenanted my mind…I remembered certain of Bessie’s tales, wherein figured a North-of-England spirit, called a ‘Gytrash’; which, in the form of a horse, mule, or large dog, haunted solitary ways, and sometimes came upon belated travellers, as this horse was now coming upon me…I heard a rush under the hedge, and [there] glided a great dog…It was exactly one mask of Bessie’s Gytrash – a lion-like creature with long hair and a huge head.1

  Theo Brown identifies three separate types of Black Dogs but she does admit to there being some overlap:

  A. That which is generally known locally as the Barguest, Shuck, Black Shag, Trash, Skriker, Padfoot and other names. These are not the names of individuals but of an impersonal creature which is distributed over certain areas… This type, which we may call the Barguest type, changes its shape, a thing that no true Black Dog ever does.

  The only pond left visible along the road from Leverton to Wrangle.

  B. That which is nearly always known as the Black Dog, is always black, and is always a dog and nothing else…It is always associated with a definite place or ‘beat’ on a road. It is always an individual. Sometimes it is associated with a person or a family…Another personal association is that with witches.

  C. A third variety of Black Dog, which is rare, is that which appears in a certain locality in conjunction with a calendar cycle.2

  As well as the Barguest and other names she mentions above, the Black Dog is also known as the Gurt Dog, Dando Dogs, Wish Hounds, Moddey Dhoo, Pooka and Hooter, just to name a few. Some sources suggest that the creature known as the Shagfoal in Lincolnshire is another manifestation of the Black Dog.

  No one seems very sure as to why they materialise; some suggest they are portents of death, others that they appear in order to carry dead souls away, but some believe they are benevolent creatures sent to protect people, especially women on their own, in lonely places.

  There was apparently a sighting by a woman at Blyborough, who was followed by a Black Dog along the road by the village pond. She hit out at the creature with her umbrella, but the object passed straight through it. We do not know what happened to the dog but can assume the lady made it home safely, as her story survives.3

  The church at Algarkirk, although no Black Dog was to be seen here this day.

  Briggs adds that with the three types of dog Brown mentions, there can also be added demon dogs, ghosts of dogs and even ghosts of humans taking dog form.4 She believes there are equal numbers of stories of the Black Dog being benevolent as there are of it being malevolent – a guardian or a devilish creature.

  There were so many sightings of the Black Dog in Lincolnshire that folklorist Ethel Rudkin dedicated an entire book to the field. Writing in the 1930s, she claimed to have seen the Black Dog herself in the county, and talked to many others who had shared her experience. According to Rudkin, more often than not the Lincolnshire Black Dog is benevolent.

  She talks of a man who used to cycle home from Leverton to Wrangle and often saw the Black Dog appear near a long, deep pond. It would run so far along the road then turn down an adjacent lane each time it appeared.

  One Mrs B was reported to have seen the Black Dog at Algarkirk, where she lived, near the trees that grew near to the church. ‘It is tall and thin, with a long neck and pointed nose. It leaps into the road and runs before the spectator, leaping back over another gate farther on. It always comes and goes on one’s left.’5

  Another regular sighting was in and around Bourne Wood. Many people said they saw the dog and that it seemed quite friendly but would never allow anyone to stroke it, always leaving them at the same place every time, a gate in the corner of the wood.

  The little bridge that crosses the stream near Manton, where the Black Dog was reportedly seen.

  Rudkin says the road up to Moortown Hall was also haunted by the dog. It apparently appeared in the exact same spot in the hedge every time and some people claimed they felt it brushing past their legs.

  One of the indoor sightings of the Black Dog was within a house in Brigg. It was converted into a shop later on, but during the time of the Reformation, a Catholic family was said to live there, with a private chapel hidden away in the roof. The house was allegedly haunted, with strange noises being heard and doors opening and closing for no apparent reason. The spectre of a large Black Dog with huge, glowing eyes was often reported; and the rumour was that it was the spirit of a woman who had been murdered in the house, appearing in the form of this dog. It was said to never leave the house, adopting guardianship of the old altar.

  An additional sighting was along a green lane at Manton, where the Black Dog was seen near the bridge that crosses the stream.

  Also at Bransby, where the River Till flows, the Black Dog has supposedly been spotted walking down Bonnewells Lane. This is apparently a very haunted place. Rudkin mentioned the ghosts of a lady in a rustling silk dress, a sow with her litter and even Oliver Cromwell. She reproduced a poem of the lane, written by Muriel M. Andrew, entitled ‘The Legend of the Ghost in Bonny Wells Lane’:

  ’E set off down owd Bonny Wells lane

  At just a fairish paace,

  When summat big an’ grey ’e seed,

  He tonned ’im round in ’aaste.

  It sure unnerved ’im, that it did,

  To be theer by ’issen,

  Until ’e thote about the Dog,

  He warn’t so freentened then.

  He couldn’t see the big Black Dog,

  What should be i’ the Laane,

  Protectin’ all good foalks, they say,

  (The bad ’uns look in vain).6

  The poem implies that the Black Dog in this lane was seen as something of a guardian, especially as the lane was haunted by other spectres, and the dog helped protect the good people. The fact that it was mentioned in the poem shows the legend was a long-standing local belief. The poor fellow in this particular tale, after running home for help and coming back with some other men, was shown to be a fool, as it transpired that the large grey creature he saw was none other than a braying donkey.

  The reputedly haunted Bonnewells Lane, Bransby.

  Daniel Codd relates a story of a Black Dog haunting a small cottage in Gainsborough in 1823.7 This creature seemed to be more on the malevolent side than Rudkin’s apparitions, delivering sinister tappings at the window, door and bedposts. It also exhibited poltergeist behaviour, often directed towards a young girl in the house and, as far as Codd is concerned, the creature was never banished.


  On his webpage, Dr Simon Sherwood describes an experience of the Black Dog he had as a child, living in Spalding in the 1970s.8 He recalls how he was asleep in bed, when he was suddenly woken by the patter of feet. When he opened his eyes he saw a huge dog, with horns, sprinting along the hall towards his bedroom. The dog had massive, bright yellow eyes and when it reached the door to the bedroom it disappeared. The boy’s scream attracted his mother’s attention and she persuaded him it had merely been the reflection of car headlights. It was only later, as an adult, whilst reading the newspaper that he came across a story of a poltergeist haunting in a council house. Apparently a number of objects had been thrown at the baby in the house, and the father also said he had seen a large, dark dog run at him, then disappear. This particular story would seem in accordance with Codd’s poltergeist Black Dog – more on the evil side than Rudkin’s reported experiences.

  Sean McNeaney describes a malevolent Black Dog, witnessed by a farm worker somewhere on the outskirts of Hemswell.9 He is said to have inadvertently dug up the bones of some large animal. He presumed it to be a donkey or calf, but on closer inspection he saw it possessed rather ferocious-looking canine teeth. He placed the skull in a sack and decided to take it along to his local pub to show his friends. It was a cold, dark winter’s night and the journey was along narrow isolated lanes. When he was but halfway, he was overcome with a feeling of dread and began to glance over his shoulder at regular intervals, although he saw nothing untoward. Shortly, however, he heard the sound of heavy, lumbering padded feet and the panting of some huge creature fast approaching. This time when he looked behind, his eyes fell on a massive Black Dog, running at him with bared teeth and burning red eyes. The horrified man began to run but the creature quickened its pace and was soon upon him. He could feel its breath on the back of his neck, and he only had the sack of bones to protect him. With this in mind he suddenly turned and slammed the sack into the head of the beast and the bag tore, spilling the bones all around the two figures. As the bones crashed to the ground, splintering into fragments, the hound gave a horrific howl and then vanished right before his eyes. The poor man’s friends laughed at his tale, at first, but soon began to believe him, when his deathly-pale expression did not change, and ever after the farm worker was terrified of all dogs.

  The Black Dog is not the only supernatural canine creature to inhabit Lincolnshire. Strangely enough, there are also reports of werewolf sightings, which some find harder to believe than the Black Dog apparitions.

  Daniel Codd tells the tale of a certain wolf man who used to inhabit Read’s Island about 200 years ago. There was a travelling vagabond, who had built himself a small shelter on the island and earned his living rowing people across the waters in his small boat. During his stay on the island, however, it is said that there were frequent mysterious disappearances and eventually one passenger tipped off the authorities and the drifter was taken before the courts and accused of cannibalism. More evidence presented itself when the island was searched and hundreds of human bones were found scattered around his abode. Quite why there was so much traffic to this small island is never explained. The most disturbing part of the story tells that, during the trial, the traveller ‘collapsed vomiting on to all fours, howling like an animal. His appearance began to take on the form of a monstrous wolf and there was an immense struggle to subdue him.’10 No other information is given, except that he was hauled off to the countryside and then hanged. No one knows who he was or where he came from, least of all why he metamorphosed into a wolf.

  There is another story, based in the neighbourhood of Gedney Dyke, concerning a witch by the name of Old Mother Nightshade. On account of her strange habits and the noises she made, she was feared by all those who lived nearby except one young lad, John Culpepper. The poor lad was something of a simpleton and found himself in the witch’s lair one day, seeking advice on matters of the heart, after being spurned by the village beauty, Rose Taylor.

  Read’s Island, a small piece of land not far from the bank, in the River Humber. The Humber Bridge can be seen from its shores.

  The old witch gave the boy a box of sweetmeats which he was to offer to the lady in question, then after three days he was to return to her. The lad obeyed these instructions and on the night of the full moon he found himself again in the presence of the witch. ‘Close your eyes until I tell you to open them,’ the witch commanded. John did as he was bidden and eventually a strange, distorted voice told him to open them. The young man was aghast when he opened his eyes to see before him a gigantic wolf-like creature with long, shaggy hair looming over him. The poor lad, now tied to the chair, realised too late that he had been tricked, and the wolf-woman bore down on him and ripped him to shreds. The villagers all cowed behind their locked doors that night, hearing the screams and ungodly howls which filled the air, and in the morning the witch was gone and John’s ragged remains were all that was left. Some huge, bloodied paw prints led off into the Fens, too big to belong to a dog, and the villagers realised at last what the witch had been. The cottage was burnt to the ground, but still the wolf’s howl can sometimes be heard echoing across the Fens on the night of a full moon.

  It is said that in those times, perhaps around the eighteenth century, it was believed that witches possessed the knowledge to mix certain ingredients into an ointment which, when rubbed on the skin, transformed them into a wolf-like creature. Another tale reinforces this idea; that of an old wizard who lived in Northorpe, near Bourne. He is reputed to have been seen turning into one of these wolf-like creatures and attacking his neighbour’s cattle. At least it wasn’t his neighbour!

  Britain has relatively few werewolf stories, compared with some other countries in the world, but this could be due to the fact that wolves have been extinct here for such a long time and folklore concerning them has died out. There are only a few remaining stories, and luckily Lincolnshire is one area that still has some of these tales.

  The area where the werewolf bones were supposedly dug up, aptly named Dogdyke.

  Codd narrates a legend from the 1800s of a student who discovered the bones of a human skeleton with a wolf’s head in the peatland near Dogdyke. He was so excited with his unusual find that he took the bones home in order to study them more closely. That night, however, he was woken by a tapping at the window. When he looked outside into the night he saw ‘a moving, black shape; peering closer the form defined itself as a human being with a wolf’s head, which was looking at him through the glass and snarling viciously. The creature drew back its clawed arm to smash the glass…’11

  Of course, the young man fled, terrified, into the adjacent room where he could barricade himself in; he sat ‘frozen with fear’ for the rest of the night, listening to the prowling and padding sounds of the wolf creature in his house. In the morning, after he was sure the sounds had ceased, he ventured into the rest of the house, which had been turned upside down. The terrified lad immediately took the bones back to where he had found them and buried them deep in the peat. He never saw the beast again.

  Christopher Marlowe mentions a few of these werewolf stories and adds another about an artist who was visiting the Fens around Crowland on a break from her home in London.12 She was staying with a family and was on the way home to their farm one evening when she came across a local widow wandering in the lane. The lady seemed to be acting rather oddly and lagged behind the artist. As she looked back, the widow suddenly seemed to drop to her knees in the lane and then, before her very eyes, she watched her transform into a horrifying wolf creature. The werewolf came at the artist and she had the presence of mind to shine her pocket torch into the creature’s eyes. It vanished immediately. When she arrived back at the farmhouse she found the widow there, and the family said she had been in their presence all the time but had at one point fallen to the floor complaining she had been blinded by lightning. In this instance, Marlowe proposes that she had telepathically projected herself to attack the artist, in the form of a wolf. T
his theory fits the idea that witches could transform themselves into wolf creatures – but she went even one step further, by projecting that form in one place while simultaneously being present as a human elsewhere.

  One wonders at the popular tales depicted in books and films in today’s world, of werewolves, vampires, zombies and the like. There is such a common theme amongst these stories, based on folk tales from all around the world, that there must be a grain of truth to them, no matter how far removed from the creatures on the big screen today.

  Codd talks of a fear of zombie-like creatures being prevalent in Lincolnshire in the 1800s.13 Apparently, some workmen dug up a skeleton of a man at Yaddlethorpe Hill, Bottesford. This man had been buried with a stake driven through his chest, which was apparently common practice with suicides. The recovered body would have a stake driven through the heart and then the corpse would be buried in quicklime at some crossroads, for faster disintegration, for fear it would rise again.

  Folklorists Gutch and Peacock relate a similar tale, told to them by the rector of Wispington, about a dead fellow who was placed in his coffin overnight, but the next morning the body had disappeared and in its place was a pile of stones.14

  They go on to say that it was the custom in Lincolnshire to always tie together the feet of the dead when the body was placed in the coffin, otherwise there was the fear that they could return or that some other spirit may take over the body. They use the example of Old Will Richardson, of Croft, whose feet were not tied when he died. Two weeks later, a visitor went round to the widow’s house and was greeted by the daughter, who explained her mother was in rather a state. She realised she had forgotten to tie her late husband’s feet together in his coffin and that he had come back and seated himself in the corner. They were too terrified to move him. On inspection, the visitor saw a huge toad sitting beneath the old man’s chair and the belief was that the old man had come back in this form – something which could have been avoided if his feet had been tied.