Dismal Dairy Pit

 

There can be little doubt of the Wrekin’s importance to the wider Telford area. Growing up it was the axis of my known world, ever present, it shaped my understanding of the landscape. My connection to the ‘little mountain’ has strengthened since I moved away from the area. It has come to embody everything I love about home. I have written about the Wrekin’s history and folklore at length before, and I will never tire of its stories. I believe that it transcends its status as a landmark, it has become a cultural icon, which contributes heavily to the identity of those who grew up within its shadow. When looking at its long history, it is easy to understand that the Wrekin has always been profoundly important to the local community. In the 19^th century, H. Timperley wrote that for local folk, ‘To ascend the Wrekin was akin to a pilgrimage.’ The once popular maxim ‘a Shropshire mon is never lost if he can see the Wrekin’ cements the relevance of this ‘little mountain’ to in the hearts and minds of the community. However, less attention is given to the area surrounding the Wrekin; the Ercall, Laurence Hill and the secrets contained in the Wrekin Forest, one of which is the subject of today’s article.

 The area ‘All Around the Wrekin’ has played a prominent role in British History. Much of the surrounding woodland served as royal hunting forests, which developed before the 11^th century but massively expanded during the reigns of Henry II and Richard I. A mere week after Charles I raised his standard, beginning the English Civil war, he was within these forests, at the foot of the Wrekin, rallying his troops. The landscape here has played host to hermits and kings and ordinary folk, it is drenched in the memories of innumerable lifetimes, we can access them with every fresh step through the woods surrounding the Wrekin. When it comes to folklore, there is a real abundance of tales associated with the wider Wrekin area, one of the most striking of which is the ominous ‘Dairy Pit’. Which will be the subject of this article, as we uncover the folklore attached to this sinister site.

Dairy Pit sits at the foot of the Ercall, not too far from the Forest Glen car park and to the east of the Wrekin. Sometimes referred to as Dary or Davy pit in the sources, it is rarely mentioned without reference to strange events and portentous presences. One witness remarked that ‘It is a weird place enough’ and that there was little doubt of how such strange stories grew from the site due to its atmosphere.  The site itself is a murky pool surrounded by earthen mounds. The waters are supposed to change in appearance depending on when you visit. When I was there, the water was blanketed in a thick layer of algae, a vibrant green, which made one wonder what lay beneath the depths. There is certainly an energy there, a heaviness which makes you keep a close eye on the tree line, lest you see strange shadows moving in the distance. I felt something whilst in the presence of the water, perhaps the age of the site or the influence of those who came before me; a strange feeling accompanied by the silence of the forest.  

Dairy Pit was once believed to be ancient in origin, it even being suggested as a potential bronze age burial site, but now it more likely that it is the earthwork remains of a long-abandoned bell pit, (a primitive form of mining coal, iron ore, or other minerals lying near the surface). A ghost of East Shropshire’s involvement with the Industrial Revolution. However, it is easy to understand why it was thought to be a burial site, as the earthworks look unnatural in the landscape, almost otherworldly. The Wrekin was a Hillfort after all, and according to R.E Davies, in 1835 a labourer found a large horde of broken weaponry, numbering around 200 artefacts, at Willow Moor Farm, which sits between Little Wenlock and The Forest Glen Car Park.  Thus, the history of the wider area came to influence people’s perceptions of the site, creating a sort of folklore of its own.

One of the reasons why Dairy Pit gained such an ominous reputation was due to the myriad of spirits that are said to linger there. The earliest reference I have found to the site being haunted stems from 1840, when a Mr. Hartesholme wrote that Dairy pit’s ‘dark waters were regarded with dread’ due to the number of spirits which were ‘laid under water there.’ Indeed, it is commonly suggested that Dairy Pit is a very haunted site, with spirits both within the water, as well as wandering freely, haunting the surrounding area. Dairy Pit has been associated with the practice of Ghost Laying and there are references to a great number of such spirits trapped within the waters. Ghost Laying was a belief that through dogged spirit and piety a person can banish a spectre into a vessel, most commonly a bottle. This vessel can then be concealed, cast away or contained to prevent the spirit from acting out. Sometimes such vessels were cast away into water, as there was a belief in Shropshire that water gave access to the world of spirits and could ease the troublesome ghost on its journey beyond the veil, or at least contain it to reduce harm. Dinham Bridge in Ludlow is also said to have been a site of a number of Ghost laying attempts. The act of Ghost Laying could, in many ways be seen as a type of proto-exorcism and is an interesting factor of ghostlore. This phenomenon is not unique to Shropshire; however, we find within the county a plethora of examples where wicked ghosts are laid into bottles through a battle of wills. Its interesting to think of this practice occurring at Dairy Pit, and also the sites variation of the Ghost Laying conventions, here some spirits stay trapped, and yet others walk abroad and are able to inspire ominous feelings and such a fear within the local community. We are told by an informant of Charlotte Burne that people walked well out of their way to avoid the pit, and one woman would hurry past the site with her eyes firmly shut to avoid witnessing the spirits that lingered there. We are never given a number for how many lost souls are attached to the site, but many sources allude to there being a wealth of ghosts to be found here.

Hartesholme, informs us that one spirit in particular was believed to be particularly active in the area, that of a 17^th century pack horse driver known as ‘Owd Rutter’. Hartesholme states that Owd Rutter was a hardworking man, but very fond of drink. At night, he would ‘fetch himself a drop ‘o’ drink’ and continue drinking until he was well and truly sloshed. At this point he would argue with his wife, and there would be a great fight between the two, with much damage caused in the process. Eventually, his wife grew tired of his exploits, and poisoned Owd Rutter, (in some variations of the story this poisoning actually took place at Dairy Pit), and Rutter died of his affliction. Soon enough however, his spirit wandered again, even taking his favourite mug off the shelf and filling it with ale, just as he had done in life! Rutter’s wife grew desperately tired of his presence, as she had done in life, so sought help in laying his spirit, and cast it into Dairy Pit.

Rutter’s ghost is said to wander the site surrounding the pool, alongside many nameless spirits, and can inspire dread within those who linger long enough to bare witness. I’ve found few references to modern sightings of spirits here, but this could be in part due to lack of knowledge about the site. I am rather fond of George Evans (The Wrekin’s most notable son’s) idea that to decern the validity of its haunted status, one should go to the site ‘on a silent moonlit night’ and note your reaction. As with all folklore, its interesting to consider how seriously we should take such stories. At the very least, they give us an insight into the thoughts and fears of a community that came before us. They show us that how people engaged with their environment and made meaning of sites that felt somehow different. Were people really heading to Dairy Pit to protect the village or locality from the the unquiet dead? I am afraid I cannot answer such a question, though we know that exorcisms and similar practices can and have been undertaken. What we can learn from its status as a haunted site is that Dairy Pit mattered, long after it was used for mining, and that’s interesting in its own right.

Aside from the spirits that dwell at Dairy Pit, we are also told that the depths are inhabited by a mermaid or ‘Marmid’ if we are turn to our dialect. This may seem surprising to some that such a creature could be associated with a landlocked county like Shropshire, but the Dairy Pit mermaid is not the only one of its species said to linger in Shropshire waters. Certainly, mermaids are said to be found in Child’s Ercall pool, Newport, Ellesmere and Bomere pool respectively and have their own stories attached to them, which are worthy of discussing separately. However, the Dairy Pit ‘Marmid’ is particularly fearsome, and is said to enjoy nothing more than seducing young men with her song, before dragging them deep beneath the surface, drowning them, and claiming their souls. This is so interesting when considered the potential depth of Dairy Pit, due to its former status as a Bell Pit mine. In Shropshire there are a number of water based cautionary tales, from Jenny Greenteeth, the hag who drags children to their deaths in open bodies of water, and Frog Well, which is said to play host to the Devil himself in the guise of a frog, all of which serve as a reminder of the dangers of water, especially within a community where the ability to swim was not the norm. Consequently, the Dairy Pit ‘Marmid’ should be seen in the same vein, a creature highlighting the dangers of dark bodies of water, a conduit for the fear of drowning. This, in turn contributes to Dairy Pit being described as a ‘place of horrors’.

Another interesting folkloric anecdote suggests that Dairy Pit was once confused as the site of a healing holy well, with almost disastrous consequences. This mistake may have been made due to there once being a holy well located somewhere on the Wrekin. This was known locally as St. Hawthorn’s well, which is interesting as there has never been any formal records of a St. Hawthorn. Charlotte Burne suggests that St Hawthorn’s well was pagan in origin, and perhaps related to tree veneration and later potentially associated with St. Alkmund or St. Arfan. This site was said to be particularly potent in healing scorbutic infections, though the waters could be used to heal more general ailments. St. Hawthorn’s well was said to be a very popular site for those local to the Wrekin, so much so that no one ever thought to write down its location. Once ingrained in public knowledge, the site would unfortunately become lost, with little modern allusion as to where it could now lie.

Perhaps the confusion surrounding the location of St. Hawthorn’s well, inspired a local man to visit the dismal Dairy Pit to attempt to heal his severe rheumatism. He was instructed to go to a local holy well by a neighbour known to ‘practice pharmacy’ (who was in all likelihood a local cunning man rather than a doctor or physician) and collect a draught of the water to drink. The man made the journey to Dairy pit, and carefully followed the instructions, bottling an amount before drinking deeply. Having seen how green the water can get, its frankly very difficult to believe how he ever thought this was a good idea. He did this several times before growing gravely ill, indeed he was described as ‘being brought close to death’ it was only when he told friends of where he had visited to obtain such a draught that he was informed to cease such a practice. He was reminded of the ghosts and unholy things that dwelt in the waters. When the stopped drinking the water of Dairy Pit, he was said to return to health.

This story is fascinating to me, as it demonstrates the prevalence of the belief in holy wells and healing waters in the county, but also how easily forgotten such sites are, if they are not properly recorded. People believed that St Hawthorn’s well would always be visited, as it held importance to them within their lifetimes, and thus it can represent the changing status of belief in the county. In a similar vein, Dairy Pit could be described. Its has been an important place, though in a very different way to the healing waters of St Milburga’s, St Winifred’s or Rorrington Holy Wells. Dairy Pit serves as a conduit for fear, a tangible explanation for the unexplainable forces which present themselves in daily life, and thus, its important to record and share its folklore, regardless of whether you believe in ghosts, mermaids or other sinister beings.

Though near to the popular site of the Wrekin, Dairy Pit has been largely ignored or forgotten in the modern era. Its ghosts are left with only each other for company. It’s curious that a seemingly unassuming place could be the centre of such wealth of folklore, which makes one wonder how many more quiet places are inhabited with such an abundance of lore. I implore you if your in the area, step off the beaten path and visit Dairy Pit, and see for yourself the mysteries the site has to offer.