Unquiet Spirits- The Art of Ghost Laying in Shropshire

 

A common trope in British folklore is the discussion surrounding how one can remedy a haunting. The opinions are varied and point to many conclusions, which suggests in itself that the nature and purpose of spirits was a conundrum in the minds of those who came before us. Some traditions take a rather pessimistic stance, stating that there is nothing the living can do to put a ghost to rest, and that a community must learn to live with its ghosts. In other areas we find tales of spirits trapped by circumstance, who can only cross over if an activity or specific task is completed. This may be something as simple as giving them a correct burial or delivering a message from beyond the veil. This image is still fairly common in paranormal discourse to this day, the ‘unfinished business’ that only when completed, can a spirit leave this realm. However, there is another attitude towards the spirit world prevalent in British Folklore. This belief states 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. 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. The great body of Shropshire’s stories originate in the 18^th or 19^th century, though a few hints at older origins. Examples can be found across the county, but many are from rural communities. This ghost laying tradition is definitely worthy of discussion and will be the subject of this article. 

I want to begin by giving some examples of Shropshire’s ghost laying stories, sharing common themes and the symbolism of such tales, before we move on to discuss just how someone goes about ‘laying’ a ghost. Some of the stories are more complete narratives, whilst others are but fragments now, yet still worthy of inclusion.

Let us start by turning to one of my favourite examples of ghost laying. This is the story of Elizabeth Browne, who lived in Stanton Upon Heath Hine in the 1700s. Not much is known about Elizabeth in life, other than that she was unconventional, and shunned many of the standards typically associated with the day. She preferred the fields and forests than the close confines of the church and spent much of her time alone. Strangely it seems she avoided being stereotyped as a witch in life but was referred to frequently as a ‘wicked woman’. Our story really begins in 1777, when Elizabeth Browne passed away, at the grand age of 92. Soon after she died, preparations were made for her burial, and the community realised that she had intended to be buried in the woods close to her home. She’d loved them afterall, and it seemed strangely fitting, so despite their reservations they buried Elizabeth’s remains beneath the forest floor. After a short time, reports began to circulate that Elizabeth walked again. Indeed, numerous people had seen her, wandering the forest as she had done in life. This was enough to convince the community they had made a grave mistake giving her such an unchristian send off. Fearing they’d gained a ghost they promptly dug up Elizabeth’s remains, and then had them interred in the local cemetery. However, this only made the situation worse, transforming Elizabeth’s gentle wandering spirit into a wrathful entity, wreaking havoc on the village.

Elizabeth walked again now and wandered the village freely. Her spirit was often seen sat upon a large stone, where she took to frightening and criticising passers-by. Elizabeth had developed a cruel tongue, and greatly upset the other villagers. She relished in this, laughing heartedly after every insult. Elizabeth also roamed the fields as she’d done in life, but scared cattle to an extent that it even caused them harm. She lashed out at people, knocking them over and pushing them to the ground. She even stamped upon tokens left at gravesides, causing the community great distress.

Soon, the public decided that enough was enough, and they could not continue in such a way. They petitioned to the vicar, who agreed to partake in the ghost laying ritual. Having contacted other men of great piety, including many men of the cloth, they descended upon the churchyard and set about gathering Elizabeth Browne through the art of prayer. We are unfortunately not told the contents of such prayers of power; however, we know that they surrounded the grave with candles and prayed relentlessly. Eventually Elizabeth’s spirit had shrunk small enough to fit into a bottle. The men sealed the bottle and were said to bury it in the church. Interestingly, there was a bottle found in the church some years later during renovations. It was sealed with a red wax seal, with the sign of the cross on it. Did this contain the spirit of Madam Browne? To be on the safe side, the bottle was stored in the vestry.

What I love about this story is that it serves as a reminder that sometimes, what is right for the general populus, isn’t right for everyone. If the community had only left Madam Browne in the woods, where she was happy wandering, her spirit wouldn’t have transformed into a wrathful creature, bent on revenge. It seems that the message doesn’t back up the importance of a Christian burial, but rather to follow the wishes of the deceased. I do hope Elizabeth managed to find some peace, despite being trapped in a bottle!

Our next story takes us to the outskirts of Ellesmere, to a place called Hamptons Wood. This area has a quite a sizable body of hauntings associated with it, despite its relatively small proportions, including a story of ghost laying. It is said that the following paranormal events were triggered by the awful murder of five children during the 19^th century. Soon after the events, an apparition began to stalk the area in the form of a man without a head. He terrified the community, scared the horses, even riding them down the lanes. Soon the community turned to a local parson, who they believed could end the ghost’s reign of terror. The parson readied himself and attempted to lay the spirit. He prayed relentlessly for three days and three nights, purportedly not stopping to eat or drink and eventually was able to shrink the spirit, despite its protesting and lashing out, to the size of a cat. This would not be enough to rid the ghost though, so continued his battle, eventually succeeding in shrinking it enough to capture it into a bottle. However, after sealing the bottle, our sadly unnamed parson dropped dead from exhaustion, demonstrating the risks that such a ritual could impose on the participant. As for the trapped spirit, it was then contained in three iron chests and then buried under a barn. The spirit was said to be trapped for 99 years, which by my reckoning means it is now free to wander again, and cause mischief.

There is a wonderful example of a ghost laying to be found in the parish of Ruyton- Xl-Towns in Coton. Ruyton-XI-towns was traditionally made up of 11 communities and gained its unusual compound name in the 12^th century, after the castle was built. Interestingly, Arthur Conan Doyle spent some time in Ruyton whilst he was a medical student in 1878. He later recalled in his Memories and Recollections (1923) that Ruyton was "not big enough to make one town, far less eleven" which certainly invokes the isolation of this rural area.

Our ghost laying story was written in September 1895, when Mr. James Cooper, the former school master of Ruyton wrote to a Mr. Robert Lloyd Kenyon, who lived in West Felton. The subject of the letter was to reminisce, as well as share stories and discoveries from the local community of Ruyton – XI – Towns. He wrote that in 1788 the community became troubled by a malevolent haunting.

The vicar of the parish at this time was Rev. David Evans, who began to receive complaints about the presence of a spirit known to the community as ‘Owd Corbet’. Owd Corbet was perhaps linked to the Corbet family, who had formally lived at Coton around 200 years before. Owd Corbet wandered the village ceaselessly and was by all accounts a wicked fellow. He got up to all sorts of mischief and generally made it his duty to cause issues for the inhabitants. Some examples of his poor behaviour include taking the wheels off carts, tipping over barrels, throwing things and making strange noises long into the night. He was even known to be violent. He seemed to cause a genuine threat to the community.

Mr. Cooper also writes of strange events in the village, perhaps portents of impending doom, or further proof of Owd Corbet’s reign of terror. This included a room that was usually kept locked, (it is not clear why) being unlocked after a great amount of noise coming from it. When it was opened, the room was found to be stained with blood. On another occasion whilst tearing down a building, a fine coffin was found, which had a silver plate, written entirely in Welsh. It was not clear as to why a coffin should have been found on the grounds, as it was nowhere near the church. Sadly, both anecdotes are barely explained, instead delivered in that typical Victorian matter of fact tone.

 After some time, the community turned to the church in the hope that they could help the situation. Rev. Evans contacted several other men of the cloth, and they all came to Ruyton – XI – Towns. After blessing the area, the group of ministers went to Coton hall, which was supposed to be the former home of Owd Corbet. They then began an intense but sadly undescribed ritual. What we do know is that they prayed and preached continuously for two hours, whilst surrounded by candles. By midnight, the ministers had managed to entice Owd Corbet into a bottle and then threw the spirit into a nearby pool. This was said to lay his spirit to rest, but not permanently. Indeed, depending on which version of the folktale you read, Owd Corbet was trapped in the bottle for either 100 years (which means his spirit is now free to get up to trouble again) or 1000 years. Hopefully, it is the latter.

Though trapped inside a bottle, Owd Corbet still managed to make some mischief. Former tenants of Coton hall have said he was able to tip over milk churns and even start small fires near the water’s edge.

One of the things I find most interesting about these stories, is the fact that they do not share many details about the mechanics of the rituals, it feels like a secret knowledge, accessible only to trusted members of clergy. In Shropshire, there are some areas which are said to be the final resting place for such bottled spirits, such as Dinham Bridge near Ludlow. We do not know much about this spirit, other than it was incredibly violent, and was thus successfully bottled by the priest and thrown into the water. Perhaps it is still there…

We are provided with another fragment, which is originally attributed to Sarah Mason of Baschurch about a particularly difficult ghost laying ritual. She states that a woman took her own life near the Shropshire Union Canal, and then came again as a terribly tormented spirit lashing out at anyone nearby. This was such a problem that nine clergymen were summoned to try and contain the spirit. Eventually they succeeded, and once contained, they buried the bottle under a flat sandstone slab in the road.

A popular piece of Ghost laying folklore is found in the story of the the Roaring Bull of Bagbury, a larger-than-life spirit that dominates many discussions of our ghostlore. Some of our earliest complete accounts come from Thomas Wright and Charlotte Burne, though the story undoubtably had an oral tradition long before. The tale begins by informing us that a very bad man lived on a farm in Bagbury, who did but two good things in his life, and the one was to give a waistcoat to a poor old man, and the other was to give a piece of bread and cheese to an underprivileged boy.  When this man died, he surely confessed his sins but made the creator aware of his two good deeds, in hope this would ease his path into the afterlife. In death, his spirit grew restless, perhaps inspired by his lifetime of misdeeds. He took the form of a great bull, who would haunt buildings and roar till the boards and the shutters, and the tiles would fly off the building. So violent was his behaviour that he even cracked the brickwork of the local church.  It was impossible for anyone to live near him due to the raucous racket and violent outbursts. This spirits behaviour is similar to modern day poltergeist accounts. The Roaring Bull of Bagbury terrorised the community, until they couldn’t take any more. They turned to the church and sure enough, 12 parsons descended on the churchyard to lay the reclatrant spirit. They struggled at first, but eventually through ritual and prayer managed to defeat the bull. Various versions of this tale exist, with some suggesting his trapped spirit is in Hyssington Church whilst others state his spirit was taken to the Red Sea, where it would lie for 1000 years. Further versions of the story suggest that a blind parson was the only one capable of laying the spirit.

I want to turn to one of the most famous examples of trapped spirits in Shropshire, that of Sir George Blount - ‘The terror of Scotland’. Sir George gained this nickname during the ‘Rough Wooing’ of the 1540s, Henry VIII’s campaign against the Scots. He was a feared and astute politician and military man, and grew up in the lovely village of Kinlet, which sits in Southeast Shropshire.

After the wars with the Scots, Sir George Blount returned to Kinlet, having inherited estates in Staffordshire (from his mother) as well as Kinlet, Cleobury and Bewdley. He then got married, turning his attention to the management of his ever-growing estates. Soon enough, Sir George was blessed with children, a girl, and a boy, but his son tragically died whilst choking on an apple. This death was to profoundly affect him, he was said to oversee the funeral preparations personally, laying his sons small body in the silver casket himself, and digging the grave personally by hand. This left the soul inheritance of his estates in the hands of his daughter.

Sir George Blount’s next period of grief was to come when his daughter began to gain an attachment to a low born young man from the village. Despite his pleas, she continued her dalliance with the man, which only angered George further. It was said that on his deathbed, he pleaded with his daughter to leave the man, who he considered beneath her. Not long after her father was cold in the grave, she began preparing to be wed. And thus, began the hauntings.

Blount’s spirit emerged from the church, driven by a furious, wrathful temper and soon began to terrorize Kinlet. He manifested himself on a large black horse and rode violently towards the village of Kinlet. Here he lashed out at the local community, even scaring his old family servant to death in the process. There are multiple accounts of purported paranormal activity attributed to Sir George Blount, including terrorizing people associated with his estate or his family.  He was clearly still angry at his daughter’s defiance. His spirit was only calmed after his daughter’s death. However, this is not the end of our tale, for in 1720, the old Kinlet hall was torn down, and rebuilt. This sent Blount into a violent rage, reawaking the ‘Terror of Scotland’.  He continued his old tricks, intimidating the community again. One piece of folklore suggests that he used to terrify the local washerwomen, when his spirit emerged from the waters near the church.

Realizing the mistake, the community turned to the church, in the hope they could quell the warrior’s wrath. A ritual was completed, including prayer and candles, and the spirit of Sir George Blount was bottled, and placed near his tomb in Kinlet church. This bottled spirit remained in the church until around 1900. One story suggests that a daring antiquarian opened the bottle and found it to be filled with photographic developer. Perhaps the real bottle had been swapped long ago…

Let us turn now to what we do know about the actual act of ghost laying in Shropshire. There are references to the intricacies of the practice found elsewhere in the country, but I have chosen to focus simply on Shropshire evidence. As we have seen, there are some commonalities within the stories shared. The ideal candidate for ghost laying is a troublesome spirit, either a local evildoer in life, or a spirit driven by revenge in death. The actual ceremony seems to be quite a guarded secret, but almost always involves candles, and ritualized prayer. Charlotte Burne stated that one of the best ways to lay a ghost is to trick it into doing your bidding. A great way to do this is to suggest that it would only have to stay in the bottle until the holly was no longer green. Being an evergreen plant, this trapped the spirit in the earthly vessel.

Water is often used to lay spirits, as well as burying them in the earth. After trapping the spirit in the bottle, one is encouraged to throw it into a pool or river, even a well if necessary. For example, when Owd Diggory of Pulverbatch came again, his spirit was laid in the local well, where it is said to still be waiting to be released. Part of the charm of such stories is that we do not know much about the undertaking of the process, and that it should only be undertaken by the most pious members of the clergy.

It is interesting to consider how seriously we should take such stories. Though they are folkloric anecdotes, do they give us an insight into actual practices undertaken to protect the village or locality from 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 throughout rural Shropshire. Perhaps, on moonlit nights, a group of parsons did descend to some unquiet place, to battle with evil. Perhaps they still do.

The Grave of Squire Blount