Armies of The Dead- Shropshire's ghostly soldiers

 

It is truly strange to consider the bloodshed that has soaked Shropshire’s idyllic landscape, leaving a legacy that waits to be uncovered. From the battle of Maserfield in 641 which purportedly occurred on Shropshire soil (resulting in the death of Oswald of Northumbria, who would later be sanctified as St. Oswald). To, the Battle of Shrewsbury and the cruelty of the English Civil war, warfare has left scars on the county, you just need to know where to look. Certainly, war and the violence of war has shaped Shropshire into the place we know today. What is often underrepresented is the important role Shropshire has played in this country’s history. Through the development of the Earldom of Shrewsbury after the Norman conquest, Shropshire became a centre of power and control, key to maintaining peace in the area known as the Welsh Marches. Arguably, the most famous of the Shropshire Marcher Lords was Roger De Montgomery, First Earl of Shrewsbury, who if we are to believe the Norman poet Robert Wace, was instrumental commander at the Battle of Hastings. De Montgomery was said to have commanded the entire Norman right flank and enabled William the Conqueror’s endeavour to succeed. What we do know is that Roger had a close personal relationship with William I, being his trusted advisor and friend. De Montgomery was a ruthless man and controlled Shropshire competently in a time of great turmoil; but more on this later. The power of the Marcher lords was in some respects independent to the king, fundamental in supressing the Welsh threat, and thus indicative to the safety of the country as a whole. Being geographically so close to Wales, Shropshire was prone to invasion and for much of its history was a frontier society, the evidence of which still litters the countryside in its castles, once great assertions of power, now a shadow of their former glory. Though in many ways the history of Shropshire mirrors that of Wales, it should be seen for most of its history as a separate entity, an area defined by its border existence and not an extension of Welsh territory. Shropshire’s history is one of warfare, bloodshed and understandably, the memories of such still stain the land.

Indeed, if we turn to the folklore of the county, there is a wealth of paranormal phenomena concerning phantom armies, soldiers and souls lost to the battlefield. From the lone Roman legionnaire who wanders around Bomere Pool on Easter Sunday, looking for his local love. To the spirits of soldiers who are still haunted by the western front, these spirits exist due to the sheer amount of conflict that has taken place within the county, the continued military presence as well as its involvement in the great conflicts of the 20^th Century. However, I think the presence of these spirits belie a deeper meaning. Such spirits exist for a reason, and I believe they can provide us with an intimate insight into the history of the county. They serve as conduits for the loss and trauma and provide us a window into the uncertainty which characterised such periods of violence. By exploring these ghosts and their stories, we can gain greater insight into the past, and also remember the human cost of warfare. They can help us to understand how a community can navigate and conceptualise trauma and the grief that accompanies it. These spirits are indicative in understanding the human reaction to the violence that plays out on a national, or even international stage. These stories are incredibly important. I want to discuss some of these hauntings; to give an insight into Shropshire’s armies of the dead, whose soldiers span centuries of conflict. They may not wear the same uniform, but alas, their experience is collective. This is by no means an exhaustive account of all the souls or stories, but a snapshot of them. Let us journey back now and explore those soldiers who never left their battlefields.

I want to first turn my attention to the eponymous Wild Edric, whose presence permeates Shropshire Folklore. I could write a whole article on his place in the lore of the county; however, I want to briefly discuss the more paranormal side to his story. Consequently, we must first briefly explore the man behind the lore. ‘Wild Edric’ Or Eadric Salvage was an Anglo-Saxon Earl, who at one stage held fifty-six manors in and around the county, making him one of the most affluent men in Shropshire. Post-Norman conquest, Edric refused to submit to King William I, as a result Eadric had most of his manors taken from him. Due to his insubordination, Eadric came under attack from Norman forces under the command of Richard Fitz Scrob, who was based at Hereford Castle. Edric raised a rebellion, allying himself with Bleddyn Ap Cynfyn and his brother Rhiwallon ap Cynfyn who were Princes of Gwynedd and Powys. The initial attack on Hereford Castle in 1067 was a failure, however from 1069 to 1070, Edric lead a wave of English rebellions in the marches, burning down Shrewsbury but unsuccessfully sieging Shrewsbury Castle. Edric, alongside his Welsh allies and forces from Cheshire were defeated by William I at the battle of Stafford during 1069. By 1070, Edric had submitted to King William I, turning his back on the rebellion, even participating on behalf of William in military endeavours.

Here, folklore and history blur, and we are told that Shropshire folk felt betrayed by Edric’s change of heart. The English cursed him to a sort of half-life, Imprisoned deep beneath the earth below the Stiperstones.  It is not clear whether he is in spirit form here, though he is often described as ‘haunting’ the now dormant lead mines. In former times when lead miners heard strange knocking and whistles, they interpreted it as a sign that Edric was protecting them, trying to amend for his grave mistake. Trapped in the earth, Edric’s spirit can only truly rest when all the wrongs have been made right in England. However, in times of great peril, he is said to rise and ride out as a phantom horseman, at the head of a great procession of warriors, ready to fight the enemy. Here we see Edric taking the mantle of the ghostly leader of the wild hunt, a concept found throughout European folklore. Several allusions to Wild Edric and his procession are found in Shropshire, from the Crimean war of 1854, which was reported by a young woman from Rorrington.  Furthermore, such sightings were recounted during the First World War when Edric was said to have lead a phantom army out from the hills soon after war was declared. Perhaps, his spirit is remorseful, and seeks to protect the county, so that one day, he may rest in peace. Stories of phantom protectors are prevalent in English folklore, which follow much the same vein. I believe that this demonstrates the ability of local communities to integrate wider mythology into their regional context, showing a universal fear of conflict and the desire for spiritual intervention to protect communities. Wild Edric is also said to haunt the roads into Church Stretton as well as parts of Clun in the form of a great black dog, with fierce glowing eyes. Though, it is not clear why Edric takes the form of a dog, he is meant to be a fierce guardian of the area, with many avoiding travelling those roads at night, lest they awaken his wrath.

We must leave the Normans now, and journey on into the height of the Medieval period, to a time of great conflict. The Battle of Shrewsbury is often touted as being one of the most significant yet neglected events in English history. The battle was fought on 21^st of July 1403 between the Lancastrian king Henry IV and a rebel army lead by Henry ‘Harry Hotspur’ Percy from Northumberland. The battles significance lies in the fact that its outcome brought an end to the Percy challenge to king Henry IV and the throne of England. It was also the first battle in which English archers fought against each other on English soil. The longbow was the real star of the battle, and after this it solidified its place as a staple of English medieval warfare and as a national icon.

The Battle of Shrewsbury was marked by its bloodshed. Indeed, the chroniclers argue that it was perhaps one of the bloodiest battles ever fought on English soil, and though difficult to predict decisively, a fair estimate is that around 3,000 casualties lost their lives on that field. I have seen estimates such as that from the Dieulacres chronicle reach 6000 in total dead, with around 24,000 seeing combat. You can visit the site of the battle today, which sits in an area of Shrewsbury known as Battlefield and it’s a relatively small area. It is harrowing to imagine 3,000 corpses littering the lush green landscape. Such a scale of loss is unimaginable, and difficult to quantify, and cannot leave the land unmarked. Many of the dead found themselves in a mass grave not too far from the scene (perhaps at the site of the church of St Mary Magdalene, Battlefield which was built to commemorate the dead).

But this is not the end of the story. Indeed, a mere two years after the Battle of Shrewsbury, the dead walked again. There were a number of sightings of phantom soldiers wandering the battlefield. This is interesting because through this ghost story, we are given a direct insight into how a community deals with such a monumental event, and also an insight into medieval belief in spirits. To the medieval mind, the supernatural was tangible, and belief in the existence of the soul meant that ghosts were a conceivable reality. Furthermore, this story also could symbolise the way in which a community deals with the aftermath of a battle. To have lived in the area and bared witness to the machinations of power unfolding, the future of England playing out in a field in Shropshire would have been as terrifying as it would awe inspiring. This legacy would have been retold as years passed in storytelling forming spirits in the mind. Similarly, it is conceivable to believe an area that has seen as much death would still be haunted by the souls lost that day.

The reports of ghosts at battlefield are not confined to the medieval period. There have been stories of phantom soldiers, disembodied voices, shadows, and drumming heard to this day. Ethereal groups of men, women and even children are seen moving across the battlefield, only to disappear into the mist. Lone soldiers have also been seen on the battlefield, searching the ground for answers. I’m not sure why, but the ghosts of the Battle of Shrewsbury have always given me chills. Perhaps it’s how tangible these ghosts make the history, after all ghosts are one of the most lively and enduring pieces of the human experience. Whilst walking around the battlefield site, the past feels close enough to touch. Though we cannot know everything about the battle, it’s almost a comfort knowing that the land remembers the spirits of the fallen. Battlefield isn’t the only location that these soldiers have been seen, for Henry IV’s men have been seen near Barracks Passage In Shrewsbury (they were billeted there before the battle nearby) and also near several of the older pubs, perhaps enjoying their last night on earth. This suggests that the presence of such a large army left a collective mark on the consciousness of Shrewsbury and was still remembered years later. 

Let us travel into Shrewsbury now, to visit a phantom soldier of a different kind, whose spirit proves that the evil that men do live on and on. ‘Bloudie’ Jack Blondell is a truly awful spirit, who used his position as a soldier stationed at Shrewsbury Castle to commit terrible acts against the local women. Thus, his story serves as a warning to young women, not to trust so easily the promises men make.   The awful spirit is reputed to haunt the grounds of Shrewsbury Castle alongside his victims, in a perpetual state of reenacting his former crimes. Indeed, he is definitely one of Shrewsbury’s best-known spirits, and one of the oldest continuous stories, with some believing that Bloudie Jack’s story has its origins in the 12^th or 13^th century. Interestingly, in some retellings Bloudie Jack is actually an ogre, (perhaps due to his inhuman treatment of the local women) though I have chosen to disregard this, as I feel portraying the man as a mythical creature takes away the brutality of his actions and would prefer to focus on the cruelty of this human being and how he abused his status as a soldier.

Bloudie Jack, or Jack Blondell (a name frequently attributed to him) was a soldier from some far off, unnamed place, stationed at Shrewsbury Castle.  The tale suggests that he was well liked, and trusted among the other soldiers, so much so, that he was given the role of custodian and stayed at the castle throughout the year, even when other soldiers went on leave. Rather than being a responsible influence, he used his exalted position in the castle to his twisted advantage. For Bloudie Jack would charm local girls and manipulate them with promises of love and even marriage, so they would attend his private quarters at the castle. Unfortunately, this would be the last thing the girls would do. Bloudie Jack would assault the girls, murdering them, before collecting trophies from their bodies. He would dispose of their remains by feeding them to the pigs, or simply casting their bodies out into the River Severn. He ensured that prior to the girls attending the castle that they’d told no one about him, or their love, so when they were murdered, it was as if they’d disappeared without a trace. This behaviour would go unchecked, with him murdering seven times, until he met his eighth victim, a girl known to folklore as Mary Anne.

Though she fell instantly for the handsome soldier’s charms, Mary Anne was unlike the other girls, in that she couldn’t keep her new sweetheart a secret. She was so swept up in the passions of her newfound love that she bragged to her sister, telling her all about the solider that she was meeting, the solider that she was due to marry. Of course, her sister was instantly concerned by the news, and later that day went herself to the castle. She hoped to catch her sister, to talk her out of it, or indeed meet her sister’s new lover. However, she was greeted by a sight no family member would want to see; Bloudie Jack dragging Mary Anne’s bloodstained corpse across the castle grounds. Mary Anne’s sister fled in terror, knowing she could do little to save her sister from her fate, that she had to survive to inform the town of the brutality taking place behind the castle walls.

However, a few days later, the Sister returned to the castle, for she would need to get further proof of the crimes before accusing the soldier, he was powerful after all, and more importantly, he was a man. However, when she returned to the castle, it was awash with unfamiliar faces. The Sister explained to one of the guards that she’d met a man from the castle a few nights previously, and she’d ended up going back to his quarters and that rather embarrassingly she’d left something in his room. She described the man, and the solider jovially said that it sounded like Jack, who was currently on leave. Perhaps this was divine providence, or mere chance, but Jack’s luck was about to run out.

Mary’s sister flattered the soldier, thanking him for his help, and asked if she could go quickly to retrieve her items. He was more than willing to assist and took her to Bloudie Jack’s room, waiting outside for her to retrieve her belongings. This gave the Sister freedom to quickly search Jack’s quarters and upon doing so, Mary’s sister made a ghastly discovery. On a side table she found a wooden box, which she carefully opened. Inside were eight sets of fingers, and eight sets of toes, arranged in neat little rows. She screamed in terror and the kind soldier ran into the room, where he too witnessed the macabre collection. They took the box to the towns leaders and explained the whole story of Mary Anne and the missing girls, Bloudie Jack’s womanising reputation among other soldiers and this was enough evidence to convict Jack. He was hung, drawn, and quartered for his crimes, with his head being kept on display at the castle, as a warning to all those who went by, and also a warning to local woman perhaps, not to trust the wiles of soldiers.  Bloudie Jack’s body was given the same treatment as his victims, thrown into the River Severn, where it sunk to the murky depths. However, this was not the end of Bloudie Jack’s reign of terror. For his ghost still haunts the castle grounds. Many have claimed to see dark, hunched over figures pacing the gardens, as well as hearing growls and blood curdling screams. Banging noises are also heard, and there is reports of an overall heavy, oppressive feeling. The memory of Jack’s crimes lingering in the castle walls perhaps. There have also been sightings of the dark figure of a man dragging a poor woman by her hair, to her inevitable death, which must have been very traumatic to those who have witnessed such an apparition.

Though at first this story seems to have all the characteristics of a bogeyman folk tale, and indeed there is limited historical precedence proving that such an event occurred, the ghost of Bloudie Jack provides an important insight into social attitudes to soldiers within Shropshire during the period.  It demonstrates an insular town, distrustful of strangers and weary of military involvement, perhaps with good reason. Afterall, Jack is touted as a charming man, yet the reality of his character is brutish, violent and a direct threat to the established order of the town. Though the soldiers of the castle are there to guard the town, one subverts this, choosing to abuse and violate young, naïve women. Perhaps then, this story was used as a morality tale, to warn women against the influx of strange men stationed at the castle. One doesn’t have to look far into the pages of history to see such a powerplay taking place, and unfortunately often the hidden victims of warfare are the women left behind. If this is the case, the story serves as a reminder of the brutality of warfare, enacted on women’s bodies, and a definitive warning to young women, to keep themselves safe. Perhaps there really was a murderer, not unlike Bloudie Jack, praying on local women, and the story has been developed from collective memory, we will never truly know.

The tides of time are shifting now, and we move forward, to a period of great unrest, which ripped through the nation, the English Civil War. Shropshire played a significant part in the English Civil war from the earliest days. Predominantly Royalist at the start of the war, of the county’s twelve members of the Long parliament called in 1640, eight fought on the Royalist side and only four for Parliament. Control of the area proved important to the king, as it was the gateway to predominantly Royalist Wales, and to areas beyond, such as the North West and port links to Ireland. A week after raising his standard, Charles I was in Shropshire, inspecting his troops below the Wrekin, and marching to Shrewsbury, where he established his army further, meeting with his sons and other nobles. Just as it had been in the medieval period, Shropshire was proving to be an important area. One site that could be argued to typify the unrest of the era is Hopton Castle.

Hopton Castle may have its origins in the 12th century and was originally a motte and bailey, with the stone keep coming sometime later. It sits in the village of Hopton, which is halfway between Knighton and Craven Arms. It has a rich and interesting history which is worthy of exploration in its own right, even appearing on a Time Team episode in 2010. Throughout the medieval period the castle belonged to various Shropshire families, including the Hopton’s and Corbet’s before passing into the hands of Robert Wallop, an English politician and parliamentarian who was one of the regicides of King Charles I. This is important, as it is the English Civil war we are to turn to for the remainder of this article, as our haunting has its origins here. 

The ghost story dates from 1644, when the civil war would come to Hopton Castle. History states that on 13th of March 1644, Hopton Castle was captured by the Royalists after a long siege. The Parliamentary commander who was held up in the castle didn’t surrender until the last moments of the final assault. It was an awful, sustained siege which would have been difficult to have been part of. Here history and folklore merge, to create a David and Goliath style narrative, suggesting 31 brave Parliamentarians held the castle for 3 weeks against a Royalist force of 500, before Colonel Samuel More surrendered the garrison, unable to defeat the Royalist onslaught.

The Royalist commander Sir Michael Woodhouse was known for his cruelty and spared no mercy to the Parliamentarians. He ordered his men to bind the soldiers and shoot them whilst they were on their knees. This act denied the surrender turns that the Parliamentary side believed to be in place, which stipulated that the garrison’s lives would be sparred. Interestingly, the events of Hopton Castle were so brutal that it lead to the coining of the term ‘Hopton Quarter’ which meant to show no mercy.  As for Colonel Samuel More, folklore suggests that he was clapped in irons and taken to Ludlow to await his trial. The war itself continued with the siege a footnote in its history, weaving its way across the Shropshire landscape, to Lilleshall Abbey, Tong Castle, Appley House, and battlefield’s beyond the county’s borders. In many ways the story of Hopton Castle is atypical to Shropshire’s involvement in the Civil war, with its sympathies lying with the Parliamentarians, which perhaps suggests that the Royalist association of the county is not as total as first perceived.

The murdered garrison do not rest easy. Disembodied cries and shouts have been heard throughout the site, as well as sounds of distant cannons or musket shots. People have reported general feelings of sadness and confusion or nausea when wandering the grounds, and singular apparitions of Civil war era soldiers have been seen. Furthermore, there have been a number of reports of a group of 31 soldiers, still dressed in 17th Century attire, marching from the castle slowly, to their sad fate. Curiously these apparitions disappear as they walk, until only their heads remain floating in the air. It’s sad to think they have to enact their final moments.  Though we do not know these soldiers names, or who they were before death, I believe this is an important apparition. The ghosts of the garrison demonstrate the callousness and brutality of warfare. Though, I am no civil war expert, the period can be characterised as a confusing and tumultuous one for those who lived to witness it. The Hopton Castle story allows the civil war to play out in a microcosm, helping us understand a period where Englishmen killed Englishmen (just as they’d done at the Battle of Shrewsbury two centuries earlier) to tell such a story as this is to try and understand a world where your political affiliations dictated your future, and you could never really know who to trust. This provides us with a window to the past, and those 31 unfortunate souls become representative of the conflict as a whole, and I believe deserve our sympathy. If you ever visit Hopton Castle, keep an eye out for them, but also bear in mind the gravitas of the history which once played out where you stand. The past is never that far away really, and ghost stories such as this help demonstrate this.

Though World War One played out far from Shropshire, in the fields of Europe, the conflict left an irreversible mark on the county, as it did all over the world. Young men, ill equipped for the events to come left their homes, from 1914 onwards, and many were never to return. Supposedly the ‘War to end all wars’ but how many ghosts were created by this conflict? How much pain and heartache has bled into the landscape?

There are two spirits dating from World War One in which I want to mention, both sadly, lost their lives in the county as a result of the war, and thus joined the ranks in Shropshire’s army of the dead.  The first soldier takes us back to Shrewsbury (arguably one of the most haunted areas in Shropshire) to 27 Pride Hill, a former General post office before being demolished. (Though the cellar structure is from the original building, which will prove important shortly) A man known as Captain John Williamson, of the Kings Shropshire Light Infantry (KSLI) was on leave for the first time in 2 years and returned to the area. Sadly, he couldn’t face going back to the horrors he’d left at the front. On the 21^st of July 1916, he entered the post office and mailed his letter of resignation to his commanding officer. This wasn’t his only act however, as tragically he broke into the basement of the property and shot himself with his service revolver. A figure in full KSLI uniform, complete with Sam Browne belt has been seen stood silently in the cellar since the event, which is a truly heart-breaking haunting. One cannot imagine the distress this young man must have been under to assume death was better than returning to the war, and he represents a tragically human legacy that I believe is important to remember. When faced with statistics and figures from the Great War, the level of death and mental turmoil becomes hard to quantify, however behind the numbers are men like Captain John Williamson, who suffered immensely. As an aside, the cellar is also haunted by another soldier, this time from a much more distant past. There have been sightings of a medieval soldier wandering the rooms below ground. There has been some evidence of the cellar being used for medieval burials, so perhaps this explains his place in the ranks of the dead.

Weston Rhyn is a quiet corner of Shropshire, which has been the site of human habitation since at least the Domesday Book. It’s also the sight of several hauntings, including our ghost soldier. The roads into the village are haunted by a restless unnamed young soldier. Sadly, it is not known who the man was in life, for history has claimed that secret. However, it is recognized that he was a young man from the village, who had served in the army during World War One. Whilst serving on the Western front, he had experienced a gas attack, which gravely wounded him, burning his lungs and leaving him with great difficulty breathing. Understandably, after this attack he was deemed unfit for service, and sent home to recuperate (after having medical attention). Like so many young men, ill equipped for the horrors of war, he found his return hard to adjust to mentally, and still suffered with difficulty breathing. Alas, a mere two months later, he succumbed to his injuries.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t the end of the poor man’s suffering, for he has not been able to rest easy. He haunts the roads into the village and the village itself, a tragic lost soul. He can be heard and seen gasping for air and walking slowly as if with some unknown purpose. He isn’t a frequent apparition but when he is seen he is still in uniform and has terribly unhappy eyes. He is accompanied by a deep feeling of melancholy and an overwhelming sense of darkness. This story is incredibly important, as it gives us insight into the legacy of the war, lasting disabilities that claimed further lives or changes them forever, even after the guns fell silent. I find everything about this story incredibly sad, and often wonder how many other villages are haunted by similar spectres, men who were swallowed whole by the unstoppable tides of war.

There are also several references to combatants from the Second World War, who still haunt Shropshire, though they are fragmentary in nature. My favourite is a spirit from High Ercall, who is said to be a former USAAF Officer. It is believed that he was stationed at a nearby airbase during WW2. It is not clear how the man died, but he wanders the area, in a crisp flying uniform. He is described as having bright ginger hair and a kind smile, a pleasant, cheerful spirit of a man cut down in his prime. One cannot help but feel for him and wonder why he presence has continued to be felt, was he killed at the base or in combat over Europe? Why has he remained trapped at an abandoned air base so far from home? What connects him to this place? Many young men from across the allied nations and even Germany and Italy would have spent the war in different parts of Shropshire, perhaps hauntings associated with the Second World War are memories of a time when a truly global conflict affected the Shropshire landscape.

These are but some of Shropshire’s dead. An innumerable army spanning centuries of conflict. Though their uniforms differ, their experience of war is collective, soldiers who fought and died, men who showed courage and valour, those who felt fear in battle, and sadly those who visited horrors on others as is the cruel nature of conflict. These men are representative of so many, they carry with them the legacy of their companions. They carry a message on to us today, their stories acting as a message about the impact of conflict on the people who survive to tell stories to the next generations. Some deserve to be remembered, others act as a warning about the cruel nature of war.