A Demonstration of the Ghostbox (part 2)

The ghostbox recording that we posted back in September appeared to be popular, so we thought that we’d now post the second session that we uploaded to YouTube at the time.

At this point in our recording sessions, we were getting a lot of unpleasant abuse coming through aimed at Laura, from one ‘voice’ in particular – a gentleman with a Scottish accent.

We therefore carefully considered the situation and decided to end our recording sessions there and then.

Writing this in the cold light of day, over two years later and, over a 100 miles from where we physically made the recordings, we accept that to many, this appears to be a strange reason to stop.

However, after some reflection, I guess that it was a case of discretion being better than valour.

Conclusion?

To this very day, we still have no views either way for or against the ghostbox, but we can assure you that what we’ve posted here and on YouTube is representative of what we experienced and it is a device that we believe is deserving of further attention, despite the controversy surrounding it.

Some people just like to hear the sound of their own voices, it makes them feel important.

The present day

At the moment, the ghostbox sits, neatly packed in its original box a couple of inches to my right as I put this blog together. The technology has now moved on and you can even download apps and software to your mobile phone and computer that will perform the same function.

The question remains will we ever put batteries in it and start using it to record again?

Only time will tell.......

L&M

Orford Castle – an update and unexpected response from English Heritage relating to Laura’s discovery

A couple of months have passed since our visit to Orford Castle back in August, which have proved eventful on many levels.

Our visit appears to have left its mark upon Laura, with more information coming to her on a regular basis, even though we haven’t been anywhere near the castle since.

This stream of information subsequently led to a further visit over the weekend, which we will write about in another post in the near future, but there have been far more interesting developments in respect of Laura’s discovery at the Castle back in August, which we briefly touched upon in our blog about our visit at the time (click here).

To recap, this is what we wrote:

“Whilst she was in the chamber, Laura suddenly felt that she had to go to a particular location in the Keep to find ‘something’. The feeling was very intense and conveyed a matter of urgency in the task – she needed to find ‘it’.

Leaving the Well Room, Laura returned to the Lower Hall and found herself entering one of the side chambers. Travelling to the end of the short passage, she looked up and immediately spotted her goal.”

The petroglyph, outlined in red.

Laura’s ‘goal’, we can now reveal, was what we interpreted as a ‘hand print’ (a petroglyph), carved into the stonework of the garderobe in the lower hall.

The print fitted Laura’s right hand perfectly, an exact copy, as if Laura’s hand had been the blueprint, at the risk of stretching the point too far.

As Laura pressed hard into the handprint, a secret door
to a hidden room slowly opened....

Sadly, no matter how hard we pushed into the handprint, no secret chamber was revealed.........

As we have previously stated, we didn’t wish to publicise the find at the time as we could find no reference to it anywhere, in any of the reference works about the Castle or even online and, we were very conscious that our interpretation could have been mistaken, although we were very confident in what Laura found.

We subsequently entered into correspondence with English Heritage about Laura’s find, who, having referred the matter to their team in East Anglia, advised that they were very excited about Laura’s discovery and, confirmed that it was indeed a hand print.

Needless to say, we have not revealed to English Heritage how Laura came to discover the hand print, other than she just did, but, in private correspondence, English Heritage also informed us of other features in the Castle that were not currently in the public domain. These are of great interest to us and possibly links into our ongoing research.

Taking a step back for a moment, I guess what we’ve described here is how Laura, via some unknown means (we’ll stop short of using the term psychic), has discovered a previously unrecorded feature of a 900 year old Castle, that has been validated by English Heritage.

Food for thought.

As we mentioned at the start of our update, our research into the Castle is ongoing and, we may possibly have a further ‘discovery’ made by Laura to discuss, although we will need to have additional discussions with English Heritage first before we will reveal further details.

To be updated...

Laura and Mark.


Part one of this feature can be viewed at: Orford Castle - Part One
Part three of this feature can be viewed at: Orford Castle - Part Three 

Hellfire Caves - How our journey began

Hellfire Caves, in Buckinghamshire, features strongly in the world of the paranormal, perhaps not surprising in view of its’ name.

The entrance to the caves

Whilst Laura and I have been there on a couple of occasions, it was our first visit to the location that perhaps sticks in the memory the most, as not only was it the first time that we’d been there, it was also one of the first locations that we went to when we first started working together.

After an uneventful journey to Buckinghamshire in the early Sunday morning traffic, we found ourselves stood in the weak winter sunshine, in a garden centre car park a couple of hundred yards from the entrance to the infamous Hellfire caves.

Excavated by hand in the 1750’s by the workforce of Sir Francis Dashwood, who undertook the project to provide work for unemployed farm labourers following a succession of poor harvests, the caves subsequently became host to the ‘Hellfire Club’ following the destruction by fire of the club’s original headquarters at Medmenham Abbey.

It’s here, at their second location, that the Hellfire Club became synonymous with, eventually lending its name to the man-made cave complex.

Crossing the road, Laura and I headed up the short, steep hill past the small primary school, leading to the entrance to the caves.

Finding the entrance guarded by an automated turnstile, we entered the small café and tried to attract the attention of the uninterested staff so that we could purchase some tokens for entry into the cave.

Five minutes later we found ourselves in the entrance passage to the cave, the tired white paint clearly in need of some refreshment before the summer season arrived.

The cave system

Entering the Cave 

As we walked along the narrow passage, pausing only to take some photographs, Laura turned to me and asked me if I felt anything.

I told her that, as usual, I didn’t feel a thing and I asked the same question of her, to which she gave the same negative reply.

After a couple of hundred yards or so, we found ourselves at the ‘Circle feature’ - two passages hewn out of the chalk, forming a huge central pillar.

We took the left hand side passage and soon rejoined the right hand side passage, around the other side of the pillar.

It was at this point Laura started to appear disorientated and started to proceed along the adjoining passage, back to the point where we had originally entered the Circle. I told her that she was merely going back to where we had started, to which she replied, rather than directly acknowledging that fact, that we hadn’t been there before and needed to make sure that we had not missed anything out.

Having taken some more photographs, Laura paused and asked me to lead on. Nothing unusual I accept, but I got the impression that there was a reason for this request.

Moving along the passages, pausing only to take photographs in Franklin’s Cave, we moved down to the Banqueting Hall.

It is here that things started to become very interesting from my point of view.

The Banqueting Hall

Entering the large, domed cave, we went our separate ways to take photographs. Laura went to look at the wax models on the right hand side, whilst I went to the far left to take some wide angled shots.

Whilst there, we were joined by some other visitors, the first ones that we had encountered during our visit. After a couple of minutes Laura walked over to where I was standing, totally ignoring me. If I hadn’t have stepped back as she passed she would have walked into me. She appeared very focused, as if she had something on her mind.

As I watched her, I realised that something was up and she could be picking up on something. I thought about taking some photographs of her at that point but held back, as I didn’t want the flash to disturb her.

Laura pacing back and forth

I watched her pace back and forth, retracing her steps and repeating this action. At this point I decided to risk taking a photograph and managed to capture her, deep in thought as she repeated her steps.

Laura finally paused and looked up at the ceiling, then to the floor to her left. Initially I thought that she was watching the occasional drips of water falling from the roof of the cave high above us, falling down onto the gravelled floor.

Laura then seemed to snap out of herself, looked at me and told me that ‘there was a pool of blood right there” gestating with a sweeping movement of her right arm and stepping around an imaginary pool of blood.

I took a couple of pictures, just in case the camera could capture what I couldn’t see, more out of hope than any real belief.

Laura later told me that she can’t recall telling me this or indeed even speaking to me until we left the Banqueting Hall.

I asked Laura if she was feeling ok and, if she wanted to leave the Hall and continue on our journey, to which she gave a simple “yes” in reply. We made our way to the lower passage and left the Banqueting Hall, passing the two other remaining visitors.

As we left Laura explained to me what she had experienced, a male, looking up, something falling from the ceiling and getting hit on the head, leaving a pool of blood where he fell.

The remaining system

After 50 yards or so we reached the Triangle cave.

Initially, it looked as if we had reached a T-junction, but it quickly became clear where we were in the scheme of things. We turned right to find the next side passage, Laura pausing at the entry point to the adjoining tunnel, to take another picture with her camera.

We proceeded along the passage, passing the point where the right hand side of the Triangle joined up again to form a single passageway. Laura looked left along the passage and, as we continued to walk, calmly told me that she had observed a spirit of a little boy, ten foot or so along the adjoining passage.

At this point we were again joined by some others, so I asked Laura if we could go back at the earliest available opportunity and take some photographs of where she had seen the spirit. Laura readily agreed.

We arrived at the Miner’s Cave, taking some more photographs as we waited for the other visitors to snake past.

Once we were sure that the passageway was now devoid of any other human life other than our own, we quietly made our way back along the passage to the Triangle Cave, to the point where Laura had seen the little boy.

As we reached the side passage, we spotted, to our dismay, more visitors making their way down the passage from the surface. I could only think that the staff in the canteen must have undertaken a quick customer service course and were now dishing out tokens to the cave like there was no tomorrow.

Laura, at the spot where she saw the small boy 

Unable to wait no longer, Laura made her way up the side passage whilst I stood stationary watching, camera in hand. As Laura reached the point where she had seen the boy, Laura gently touched the wall, a pillar, with her right hand, just as two other visitors passed her from the other direction.

I allowed them to pass me where I was standing and walked up the passage to where Laura was waiting, where I asked her if she had seen the spirit at the point where she had touched the wall. She confirmed that indeed that was the spot. I then asked her if the spirit was still there, but sadly Laura replied that he was not. I asked Laura to stand next to the pillar, where she had observed the boy, so that I could take a couple of shots.

We then made our way back down the passages, through the Miner’s Cave and River Styx, to the final cave, the Inner Temple, which passed without event.

We found the Inner Temple to be caged off and containing some wax models of presumably Hellfire Club members, complete with baboon that looked as if it had seen better days.

Laura departs....

I turned to Laura and suggested that we should return to the surface.

Laura turned around and bizarrely sped off along the passageway leaving me standing, puzzled at her quick escape. Quickly gathering my thoughts, I thought that I’d better give chase and proceeded back along the tunnel, Laura quickly disappearing off into the distant gloom.

Laura disappears into the darkness

As I raced along the passage, I thought it most strange that Laura was now moving so fast, especially as we were at the steepest point of the tunnels and we had previously walked at a leisurely pace, throughout our journey through the cave up until this point.

In the distance I could see the light of the Miner’s Cave and watch as Laura pushed her way through the crowd of visitor looking at the wax work displays and into the darkness where I could no longer see her.

My pace had now developed into a speedy trot as I tried to gain ground.

As I passed through the Miner’s Cave I could see Laura ahead in the dimly lit passage leading to the Banqueting Hall, bumping against the side of the narrow passage as she went.

This seemed to slow her down and I called out to her, which slowed her down even further. Catching up with her, Laura looked really confused. Unlike the earlier episode in the Banqueting Hall when she appeared to be deep within herself, she appeared to be her normal self, but just a bit confused.

She turned to me and said we need to go there, indicating what appeared to be a small recess, but clearly what looked to be a solid wall from where I was standing.

I convinced her that there was no passageway there, which she sort of accepted despite her confusion and we made our way up the passage to the Banqueting Hall.

This I found interesting as there is a long standing tradition of a long lost tunnel within the cave system. I noted the spot.

As we continued our walk, Laura asked me if I had felt unbalanced as I walked along the passages from the Inner Temple.

I replied that not really, although I advised that the gravel flooring appeared to be much deeper in the deepest part of the tunnels, which gave the impression of walking along a beach in places and may have given the impression of ‘unbalance’.

Making our way along the final yards to the Banqueting Hall, Laura explained to me what she had experienced deep down in the bowls of the cave, the feeling of being attacked and ‘clumped’ hard on the head, the need to exit the caves as fast as she could.

Although I asked several questions regarding her experience to try and make sense of things Laura wasn’t really able to add to this, so I let the situation be.

Back at the Banqueting Hall, Laura proceeded to again tell me exactly what she had already told me about her vision of the dying man when we were in the Hall for the first time.

I pointed out to her that she had already mentioned this to me earlier, but was met with a blank look.

She advised that she had no recollection of saying anything to me whatsoever last time we were there.

Laura looks up

We paused to take some more shots of the Hall, including one where I managed to capture Laura unaware, staring high up at an unreachable point on the ceiling where I can only assume that whatever she had saw fall first time around had originated.

The rest of our visit was taken up taking photographs before we decided to make our way back to the surface and make good our departure.

Summary

Looking back, what transpired that day was not what we were at all expecting but, as it turned out, set the scene for how we would operate, allowing us to develop the protocol that we follow today.

Up until Hellfire Caves, before we started working together, the process that I would follow would be to record investigations, both audio and visual, with the hope of recording paranormal phenomena that I could sit down and analyse, whilst Laura would do something similar but also rely on her senses, which she hadn’t really pushed much at that point.

Working together has required us both to change how we previously had approached investigations, but it is something that has worked very well for us and, whilst we are not going to make any rash claims that it has enabled us to produce any evidence of paranormal phenomena, it has provided a lot for us to think about all the same.

L&M

A demonstration of the Ghost / Spirit Box

For those with just a passing interest in the paranormal, they will often encounter reference to a ‘ghostbox’ (or ‘spiritbox’) and openly wonder what an earth one of these things are.

Effectively, it’s a modern radio that has been modified to repeatedly scan a radio band, to infinity, without stopping at the first radio station it comes across for which it was originally manufactured to do.

How does it work?

The theory behind the device is that spirits (or similar) can utilise the airwaves and use it to communicate with us in the living world, the same as someone may choose to use white noise to attempt to record EVP.

The device is controversial on many levels and is openly criticised by some, even experienced, paranormal researchers.

Effectively, those who argue against the voice suggest that people were just listening to snippets of radio broadcasts whilst the radio band was being scanned, whilst those who believed that something genuinely paranormal was happening, arguing that, as the radio was constantly being scanned, you shouldn’t get a long sentence in a single voice and the amount of four letter word responses frequently obtained ruled out anything being broadcast by radio stations anyway.

For us, whilst having doubts about the ghostbox, we felt that it was unfair to criticise the device without first having used it ourselves, so we decided to get one ourselves and see what it did, fully expecting to stick the thing in the bin after a couple of goes.

A ghostbox at last!

Anyway, a couple of weeks after ordering from America, one duly turned up in the post.

It was a lot smaller than we imagined.

Our ghostbox of choice - the P-SB7, with external speaker

Rather than just do something off the cuff, we decided to set down a schedule for recording sessions, that we would adhere to, which would be at different times to minimise the chance of recording the same voice from a regular broadcast and confusing it with repeat visits from the same ‘spirit’ (for want of a better term).

In preparing for the first session later in the evening, I put batteries in the ghostbox and turned it on to test it. I immediately got a ‘HELLO’ from the device.

I turned it straight off.

Interesting.

To save reading through a boring transcript of what followed over the sessions that we recorded, you’ll find a segment from the recording of the first session below.

There has been no editing other than isolating the segment from the main recording.

We are not proposing a paranormal source for what we recorded, nor are we suggesting that we just recorded random radio broadcasts. To this day, we do not know.

This article is simply to demonstrate the device in action, nothing more, nothing less.

As always with audio phenomena, the recording is best listened to using headphones.......

Any comments would be most welcome, we may post another session that we did, if there is sufficient interest.

L&M

The fallacy of relying upon third party data – The Bull Hotel, Long Melford, Suffolk.

In most of our accounts that we have published, we often only hint at what we have recorded or found during our visit to a location.

This intention is deliberate as, from a paranormal perspective, the information is no more, nor no less reliable than any other paranormal account you may read and, more importantly, if we do discover something that is different to what everyone else is reporting, we don’t want to put it in the public domain in case it ‘influences’ anyone else who follows us at a location. 

We wouldn’t wish to put words in anyone else’s mouth would we?

One such case that springs immediately to mind was our visits to The Bull Hotel, in the sleepy village of Long Melford, of Lovejoy fame, where what we found was different to all the published accounts you can read.

What we found there was completely at odds to everything else that went before us.

In spite of this, we were able to validate our ‘discoveries’, thanks to a respected local historian and his wide network of contacts and, a close friend, via his own independent investigations at the location, that, for us at least, turned the ‘known’ paranormal history on its head.

The Bull Hotel

The Bull has a long and interesting history for the paranormal researcher, including a link to Borley Rectory.

Believed to have been built sometime in the mid 1400’s, this was the hotel where Harry Price stayed whilst carrying out his investigations at the Rectory, which itself used to stand a mile or two to the south west, just over the border in neighbouring Essex.

 

The Bull Hotel, Long Melford

It is also well known for at least two alleged haunting – a set of brawling brothers and, that of Richard Evered / Everard, murdered in 1648 and left to roam the rooms and corridors to this very day.

As an aside, I find it ironic that despite Price being the foremost paranormal researcher of his day, he never (publically at least) acknowledged any of these hauntings, despite staying at the hotel on many occasions.

Background

We’ve made a couple of visits to the hotel over time, with each occasion Laura appearing to tap into the history of the building.

Whilst I also recorded our sessions there, both audio and visual, unfortunately, we have never been able to record any EVP (Electronic Voice Phenomena) there.

Laura herself was unfamiliar with the history of the building (paranormal or otherwise) or, indeed, the village of Long Melford itself.

Whilst Laura came out with a variety of information during our visits, for this purpose of this article, I’ll focus on the information that I’ve taken to relate directly to the two incidents that I mentioned earlier – the ‘fighting brothers’  and ‘Richard Evered / Everard’.

The ‘fighting brothers’

Depending on which account you read, these brothers were fighting in the upper corridor of the hotel over the discovery of one of the brother’s advances towards the other’s wife. Or something else entirely different.

They were fighting, very noisily and still are to this very day, if the story is to be believed.

The upper corridor appearing to be the main focus of activity in the hotel, we obviously based ourselves in this area.

During our time there, Laura advised of two separate fights in the upper corridor.

The first fight was between two men, who were from rival pubs in a dispute over ownership of the hotel.

The Cock and Bell is almost opposite The Bull on the other side of the main road and it’s tempting to link one of the men to it, but we have nothing to connect the two.

Laura felt that the hotel had changed name. It was something about the name – a different name in fact. Little did we know at the time as to how significant this last bit of information was to turn out for us.

Laura also placed the fight in a very different location to where tradition dictated that it had taken place. This, again, was very interesting as events transpired.

The second fight involved two brothers, although they weren’t actually fighting, but a significant dispute at that. Laura also picked up a surname relating to the brothers that I will not document here.

On a further visit, Laura was given the information that one of the brothers did rape / attempted to rape the others wife.

This second fight ties in with the known paranormal history of the location, although it doesn’t appear to fit the very audible element that witnesses have described.

As I mentioned earlier, Laura was not aware of the history of the hotel, so should not have been influenced by anything that had been written about the location. What she picked up departed majorly from the ‘accepted’ account of the haunting, so to summarise:

1.       There actually appeared to be at least two fights recorded in the fabric of the location

2.       The ‘noisy /violent’ fight that was traditionally placed at one point in the corridor was actually in a totally different location; and

3.       The ‘noisy / violent’ fight was not between the two brothers but two totally different parties.

Things get interesting

Post investigation, I undertook my usual research and thought that the best place to start would be in relation to the change of name to The Bull – this was exact information which would generate either a positive or negative result

I could not recall ever reading that The Bull Hotel had a previous name during my initial researches and, again, I could find no mention whatsoever any change in name of the hotel no matter what source I referred to.

Indeed, where ever I looked, it was confirmed in stark black and white, that the building had a short life as a private house, before converting to its present use, for which it has continued trading continuously for almost 400 years.

Things were not looking too good.

However, being a thorough sort of chap, I was given the contact details of the local historian in Long Melford by a work colleague, who I decided that I would take as the final authority on the matter and leave things at that.

I subsequently made contact with the gentleman and, not wanting to disclose how I had actually came about the information, I explained that I had overheard a conversation that the hotel had actually traded under another name prior to being named ‘The Bull’ and I was trying to establish if this was true or otherwise.

The historian quickly advised that I had indeed contacted the right person, as, if anyone would know, about this it would be him.

And......., he went on to advise, it has always traded under its current guise, having converted from a private dwelling.

Sadly, there was no other name. Case closed.

Or so I thought.

A couple of days later, the historian contacted me out of the blue.

He said that I’d piqued his interest with what I had sought to find out and wanted to know where I’d got the information from.

Suspicious, I simply repeated that I was keen on local history and I’d just overheard a conversation where this had come up in discussion.

Clearly disappointed at hearing this, he nevertheless went on to explain his reason for getting in touch.

Curious about my question, the very next day he’d contacted his colleague at the Suffolk Records Office in nearby Bury St Edmunds, who again came back with the information that we both already knew – The Bull was the first and only trading name.

However, they too were also very interested in what I’d said (it must have been a slow week at the records office), so they went off and did some digging.

The next day the historian was contacted by a very excited researcher, who said that they’d managed to locate a 17^th Century Will that described a “*** ****** of Sudbury, who briefly owned The Bull, formally known as *** ******” - another trading name.

Stunned, I thanked the historian for his time and asked him to pass on my appreciation to his colleague at the Suffolk Records Office. I promised faithfully that I would direct the people I’d heard having the conversation there way, if I ever encountered them again.......

The rear courtyard of The Bull

 The murder of Richard Evered / Everard

Accepted accounts state that Richard, a yeoman, was stabbed to death in the entrance hall of The Bull in a dispute over politics or, more precisely, defending the Royalist side in the English Civil War.

The date of his murder, 1648, fits the timeline of the civil war, which was fought 1642 to 1651.

Ever since, the ghost of Richard is said to haunt the Hotel, along with his murderer, Roger Greene (who went to the gallows), have both being blamed for the footsteps and other ghostly happenings at the location ever since.

After picking up on the fights, the flow of information that Laura appeared to be tapping into started to slow down.  However, she was picking up on the odd snippet, including a name.

It was indistinct but, she felt that it could have been Everard or Everett.

At the time I made the note, I couldn’t recall the name of the murder victim attached to the story, so I simply scribbled it down and left things at that. With effort put into establishing the facts surrounding the name change of the hotel, believe it or not, I’ve never mentioned the significance of the name to Laura until a couple of minutes ago when I was writing this account and referring back to my original notes.  

I know, I know....

Laura also advised at the same point that someone was killed ‘here’ with an axe.

However, she couldn’t be sure if this was in connection with the Everard name, or a totally different event.

Most traditional accounts only refer to a ‘stabbing’ so, with the new realisation regarding the hit with the name, this now gives me further impetus to try and establish the exact murder weapon used upon poor Richard.

More is uncovered

As with most things, once you’ve made a visit to a location, the next one beckons.... soon our attentions were turned elsewhere and the case filed in pending, awaiting further attention.

A couple of years since our last visit had passed and I found myself having a telephone conversation with our close friend and fellow paranormal researcher Jason, on a totally different matter, when the topic of The Bull Hotel came up.

He mentioned that he’d, unbeknown to us at that point, had also investigated the location and had the opportunity interview some former and current staff members, who had shared their experiences of the Hotel with him.

One, in particular, had reported often hearing a loud noise, like a violent fight, in the upstairs corridor, but whenever she got near as she went to investigate, the noise immediately stopped and there was no one there.

Interestingly, she put the ‘fight’ in the same location as Laura, which was different to where it was traditionally assumed to be.

During our visits there, amongst other things, Laura had reported seeing large black dogs in the upstairs rooms. Interestingly, these had also been witnessed by the same person whilst working at the hotel and were assumed to be the animals of a former owner of the hotel.

It has been reported that dogs appear fearful of being at the hotel but, I am unable to find any references to the more paranormal type being witnessed so far.

Conclusion

Laura picked up far more information whilst at The Bull than I’ve documented here, with additional names and events that warrant further investigation.

However, as we plough through reports that others have filed online generally, we felt it important to illustrate the fallacy of relying upon the accepted history of a location when undertaking an investigation – many just seem to regurgitate what has been written before by others.

It would have been very easy to just dismiss the information that Laura picked up, on the basis that they were at odds with the ‘well established’ facts of the paranormal history of this particular location, which have been written in stone in the annals of history so to speak, for many years.

So, do not dismiss your own data – do so at your peril.

In spite of what you find contradicting what is ‘known’ about a location, it is important to pursue your research to the very end and you may be pleasantly surprised with the results – I know that we were.

*************

As always, we would be keen to learn of any other experiences at the location, so don’t be shy, feel free to contact us and discuss, privately if you would prefer.

L & M.

The search for the legendary Scrapfaggot Green

When writing a blog about your experiences, it is inevitable that you sometimes unintentionally give the impression that the paranormal exists around every corner.

To put it bluntly, it isn’t, if it exists at all, it’s about as rare as gnat’s teeth.

That’s exactly why it’s called the paranormal. If it was an everyday occurrence, then it would just be considered ‘normal’ and we probably would have never had heard of Yvette Fielding after she left Blue Peter.

The following account is just an illustration of how a lot of research turns out – unfortunately working in the paranormal field isn’t about chasing shadows at 3am in the morning, it’s about pouring over dusty, out of print books and reports, looking for obscure accounts that will assist you with a case, or even flag possible new cases to research and investigate.

However, even if turns out that there is nothing worth researching, the work that you have undertaken can sometimes reward you in different ways, such as here where we were able to rediscover a long lost location.

It goes without saying that Harry Price’s greatest case was that of Borley Rectory, seated deep in East Anglia, on the Essex/Suffolk border until it was demolished in 1944, five years after a devastating fire.

In fact, the two are inseparable, which is a great shame, as Price was much more than Borley and had involvement in many, many cases, some of which the annals of history have seen barely fit to mention.

The curious case of the Witch of Scrapfaggot Green is just one of them and, what follows, is the strange story of how we found ourselves scouring the Essex Countryside for a location that clearly doesn’t want to be found and you won’t find recorded on any map, no matter how much you look.

The search begins.....

Now, much of the work undertaken in the paranormal field involves research, in fact, research - lots and lots of research. Tedious amounts. I guess that it is fortunate that I don’t mind a bit of reading.

It was during such one such concentrated period of research, that I kept encountering the relatively well-known Essex tale concerning the Witch of Scrapfaggot Green.

Whatever book I picked up, no matter the subject matter, there was often a reference to the story staring back at me in the face. Synchronicity?

To the uninitiated, near Boreham, to the north of Chelmsford, there once existed a small, triangular piece of land, known locally as Scrapfaggot Green.

 

Scrapfaggot Green today, a shadow of it's former self.....

A peculiar name, Scrapfaggot is believed to be an old East Anglian name for a witch.

Here, 70 odd years ago, you could find the final resting place of a witch, allegedly hung following the 16^th Century Chelmsford Witch Trials, with the grave capped by a large stone to prevent the spirit of the witch escaping (that should do it).

Now, I say final resting place but, back in 1944, during the latter stages of World War II, the US Air Force were in the process of constructing the nearby Boreham Airfield and found it necessary to widen the local country lanes to improve access to the new airfield for its construction machinery.

It appears, as part of these road widening works, that the grave was bulldozed and the stone ended up in a ditch.

This was the catalyst for numerous mishaps and unexplained events that occurred locally, that even attracted the attention of the world famous Paranormal Investigator at the time, a certain Harry Price.

The spirit of the witch was subsequently laid to rest when the stone was eventually returned to its original location at Scrapfaggot Green, although there appears to be a wall of silence concerning how (and when) it ended up in the car park of the St Anne’s Castle Inn, in nearby Great Leighs, where you can still find the stone today, half buried in the grass verge outside the car park (1).

As I was diligently researching the subject of coincidence at the time, the frequent cropping up of this case was of great interest to me, even more so as I had moved less than a mile away from Scrapfaggot Green in the last 12 months.

Taking my now almost daily ‘encounter’ with the Witch, I suspended my research into coincidence and turned my full attention to the curious case of the Witch.

The first challenge, as far as I could see, was to find out where, exactly, was Scrapfaggot Green itself?

Not as easy as it first sounds, as I was soon to find out.

Despite the multitude of references to the case, there was no actual mention itself as to its location. Neither was it marked on any map, contemporary nor even the original Ordinance Survey series. I was well and truly stumped.

However, all was not lost.

In one book I found a tantalising reference to the Green being located at the end of Drakes Lane, a lane that still exists even to this very day, albeit presumably much wider than it was prior to 1944.

Furthermore, looking at the map, there was another green marked on the map not more than half a mile to the east, at what looked like could have originally been the end of Drakes Lane.

Having seemingly re-discovered the site, I was very keen to make a location visit to verifying my find one way or another so, without informing Laura of what, why or where we would be going, I arranged for an evening out in the sunny Essex countryside.

Then, just prior to leaving to make drive to Scrapfaggot Green and Great Leighs, to view the stone itself, it suddenly struck me that perhaps I was looking in the wrong place for the original location of the Witch’s Stone. It just seemed too easy.

So, with a couple of minutes to spare, I pulled out the ordinance survey map yet again and it dawned on me that perhaps Scrapfaggot Green could equally be located at the western end of Drakes Lane, not the eastern end where I originally thought it was.

I thought that this would make sense as far as the legend went, as the western end of the lane was only a mile or so from St Martin’s Church at Little Waltham, where tradition holds that the witch’s remains were allegedly interred after their discovery back in the 1940’s.

Still keeping all this from Laura, we jumper in the car and headed off toward Great Leighs, diverting via my now two best guesses at the location of the Green.

We would reach the western end of Drakes Lane first, but despite being familiar with the approximate location, I couldn’t recognise any landmarks that would identify Scrapfaggot Green, or indeed any sign posts to tell us that we were actually in Drakes Lane.

As we drove eastwards along the road I thought to myself that perhaps the blocked off side road was the start of the Lane, but at this point I wasn’t even sure that we were in the right area – this was much more confusing than looking at the map at home.

After about a mile or so I pulled over into a make shift lay-by, opposite a factory unit and tried to work out where we were.

If we were on Drakes Lane we must be coming to the end of it, approaching its junction at the eastern end with the main Great Leighs / Boreham Road.

Having consulted the map, I decided to abandon our search for Scrapfaggot Green for another evening.

Disappointed, we continued our drive to St Anne’s Castle Inn, this time activating the navigation device to avoid any further confusion and delay.

Almost immediately we found ourselves at the junction with the Great Leighs / Boreham Road and, to my right I spotted the road sign confirming that we were indeed at the eastern end of Drakes Lane and, one of the possible locations that I’d proposed for the Green.

However, quickly looking around, there was no indication that we were at one of our targets – we were at an ordinary T-Junction and, judging by the size of the trees on both sides of the road, it was very difficult to see how any green had fitted in at this junction.

Resigning ourselves to the fact that we’d probably driven right past Scrapfaggot Green, I turned left and we made our way to Great Leighs.

As we made our way along the winding country lanes, Laura commented that, as we’d driven past the blocked side road, she had picked up the name ‘Alan’ and the place name ‘Carlisle’, which we presumed was the town in Northern England.

I asked Laura if it was possible that ‘Carlisle’ was a surname (as opposed to the town), but Laura assured me that it was definitely a place name, as she’d sought clarification of this and it was definitely the town.

At this point I confirmed to Laura that this was interesting, as the blocked road junction was more than likely what remained of the Green. This being so, we made a note to try and return home via this route and check the possibility this location was indeed the case.

St Anne’s Castle Inn

After a short drive we found ourselves in the car park of St Anne’s Castle Inn. Pulling into a parking space I looked around for the Witch’s Stone that was supposed to be located on the grassed area in the car park.

We have in our possession a booklet from the early 1980’s that shows a boulder, approximately 18 inches or so high long, sitting randomly in the car park, so we thought that it should be relatively easy to find.

However, there was nothing to be seen.

This was a concern, but I was sure that the stone had merely been moved elsewhere on site and we’d try and locate it later.

Entering the almost empty bar, we ordered some drinks and sat down at a table next to the old fireplace.

Settled, Laura read though a local arts magazine on the table whilst I debated how on earth we’d driven past our target and what, if anything, did the information that Laura had picked up amount to?

Having finished scanning the magazine, Laura told me that as we drove along the country lane to the Inn, she kept picking up the word ‘sanctuary’. This feeling ended when we arrived at the Inn.

My ears pricked up at this, but I kept quiet and allowed Laura to continue.

Laura explained that she’d sought clarification of the term – was it in reference to an animal sanctuary? A children’s home? But all she could come up with was that it the context of how she received ‘sanctuary’ in a spiritual way.

I decided to reveal all to Laura, the story of the curse of the Witch’s Stone, its removal to St Anne’s Castle Inn, the fact that it allegedly was the oldest public house in England.

I went on to describe, perhaps more importantly, the building’s original function as a Norman Priory and, subsequently, a monastic hospice for the many pilgrims that used to pass, making their way to holy shrines such as the chapel and holy well of Our Lady of Walsingham in Norfolk and, in the opposite direction, the tomb of Thomas a’Beckett at Canterbury, Kent. Perhaps this was the ‘sanctuary’ that Laura was picking up as we drove towards the Inn?

As I told her all this, Laura took my note pad and started writing. After had finished talking, I could see that she’d written:

 ‘Indola / Ingola’

‘Wise’

‘Matheson’

‘Audley End’ (this could refer to two locations, both within 20 miles of the pub).

With nothing more forthcoming, we decided to drink up and leave.

As I finished my drink Laura told me that she’d just had a cold shudder all over and showed me the goose pimples on her arm.

She then picked up the name ‘Digby’ and informed me that she was ‘attracted’ to the men’s toilets situated nearby.

I was too much a gentleman to press her on the latter part of her sentence.......

Leaving the Inn, we decided to spend some time and see if we could locate the missing Witch’s Stone. As chance would have it, I quickly located it near the entrance to the car park on the main road, near an advertising board.

It was smaller than I’d imagined and was laid flat, sunk into the neatly mown grass verge. (1)

I decided to take some pictures using my mobile phone for prosperity but, mysteriously, the shutter failed to open.

Finding this mildly amusing, I turned the camera function off and tried once again, but again the shutter failed to open. This had never happened before in the four months that I’d owned the phone and a couple of hundred pictures. You couldn’t make this up.

Trying again for a third time, the shutter opened on cue and I took a couple of photographs without any further problems.

Returning to the car, we jumped in and retraced our route through the back lanes. As we drove we discussed the information that Laura had picked up and how she had arrived and some of her conclusions.

Soon, we found ourselves at the blocked road and it was then that it dawned upon us that we were finally at Scrapfaggot Green, the original location of the Witch’s Stone until it was moved back in 1944 (coincidently, the same year that Borley Rectory was demolished).

Looking out of the car at the junction ahead of us, there was a very small triangle of grass in the centre that, sadly, was clearly all that remained of the Green after its impromptu redesign by the Americans Forces over 70 years earlier.

 

Looking in the mirror, wondering
what he'd look like with a bit of CGI applied.

At this stage, night was falling fast and, being a road junction, it was not an ideal place to be walking around in the dark, taking photographs. Tufty the Squirrel would have been extremely proud of us.

Satisfied that we’d finally managed to locate Scrapfaggot Green, we decided to leave matters at that and return to take some photographs at a later date.

The return visit

As things eventually turned out, it was actually quite a while before we managed to return to the Green, but eventually we had some time free in our schedule, so we decided to take a drive out to the Essex countryside once again and visit the location.

The main purpose of the trip was to take some photographs that we could use on our website that we used to run, but it would be interesting if Laura could pick anything up at the location.

It was a nice sunny summer’s morning and the journey to Scrapfaggot Green proved uneventful, the traffic flowing freely at the usual bottlenecks on the A12 as we headed northwards.

As neared our destination, conversation turned to mundane matters and how familiar the countryside seemed despite having moved away from the area over 18 months ago and it being over two year since our last visit.

As we approached the green, turning into the side road to park up, Laura, to my surprise, suddenly announced that she could feel firm pressure around her neck. 

As I quickly pulled over, the pressure around Laura’s neck eased and she began to explain what she’d experienced.

Laura told me that as we were chatting, without warning she had the feeling of what could only be described as a strong ‘pressure’, as if someone was clutching her neck, forcing her head back.

 The sensation was so real to her that she could even feel the fingers and thumb of an invisible hand around her neck.

Laura was visibly shaken by the experience.

This obviously put a dampener on proceedings so, checking that Laura had recovered, I quickly took a couple of photographs and jumped back into the car.

 

Finally, Scrapfaggot Green in all it's glory

As we drove away, we discussed what had happened. Laura advised that although the sensation had now gone, she could still feel the after effects of her encounter when she swallowed.

As she continued describing her experience, Laura grew pale and was hit by a wave of severe nausea which lasted for approximately 30 minutes. The nausea was so strong we had to contemplate pulling over onto the side of the dual carriageway on two occasions during the drive home.  

There were no marks present on Laura’s neck and any lingering sensations in her neck disappeared within 24 hours. To this day, Laura is unable to offer any explanation as to what had happened and confirmed that she didn’t pick up any additional information as perhaps we would have usually expected.

So, a lot to think about with plenty that can be tied in with any future visits that we may make to the location.

As always, we welcome any discussion relating to the Witch at Scrapfaggot Green, so feel free to make comments or contact us directly if you prefer.

As with all our cases, we will hopefully add updates should anything further crop up during our research and any future visits.

Laura and Mark

Footnote(s)

 (1). The Landlady of St Anne’s Castle Inn kindly informed us, in correspondence, that she’d read somewhere that the stone was placed at St Anne’s Castle Inn because it was on the cross roads of the main road through Great Leighs.

Synchronicity – Seeking answers at The Psychic Questing Weekender – Avebury, September 2008

We found that our recent visit to Orford Castle has got us thinking quite a bit, particularly in relation to Laura’s experience of being compelled to seek out an ‘object’.

At the time, Laura was of the opinion that this was the first time that she’d encountered this although after some reflection, we eventually recalled that a similar thing had occurred a couple of years ago, when we attended a conference, covering psychic questing, at Avebury, back in 2008.

 

An invitation to treat - how could we resist?

The conference was organised and hosted by Andrew Collins and sought to examine the history of psychic questing and also cover more recent projects that he was working on.

For those unfamiliar with Collins, he is a respected author in his field, writing almost exclusively about alternative history, science, archaeology and the paranormal for the last 35 years or so and who is also widely credited with rediscovering psychic questing for the 20th Century.

Recently, in April earlier this year, Collins re-issued a revised edition of his cult classic “The Black Alchemist”, to mark 30 years passing since the events documented in the book, which became an immediate best seller.

As for psychic questing, what exactly does the term mean?

Collins himself defines the term as ‘using intuitively inspired thoughts and information for creative purposes, be it the exploration of history, the search for hidden artefacts or simply the quest for enlightenment'.

In simple layman’s terms - you get an ‘inclination’ to go out, seek and discovery something, be it a physical object, or a piece of information.

Looking back, this was very ironic in the context of what we were to experience whilst at the conference.

The fun begins

To cut to the chase, early in the proceedings, Collins revealed that he had concealed, within the henge at Avebury, an artefact that had featured in a previous quest of his and, over the course of the weekend, it would be the task of the assembled audience to attempt to recover the item in true questing fashion.

To set us all up for this ‘quest’, this was then followed by a group meditation session.

Now, mediation is something that I've never been able to manage to do successfully and, I knew that this was something that Laura also struggled with. Regardless, we both were willing to give it our best shot!

During the meditation, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Laura was busy scribbling on her programme, which obviously piqued my interest.

The programme that Laura had shamefully defaced,
with the profile of the stone middle right.

At the end of the meditation session, Laura turned to me and gave me her programme to look at.

It was covered in scribbles and, amongst some names and dates, she'd drawn the profile of what I took to be one of the standing stones located in the Avebury Henge itself.

In timely fashion, a short refreshment break was announced, so we took the opportunity to return to the car and retrieve the artist sketch pad that Laura often uses to scribble down notes and draw sketches from what she 'senses'.

As we walked back to the car park, Laura told me that during the meditation she had visualized herself standing in front of the stone that she’d drawn on the programme, with the concealed artefact held in the outstretched palm of her hand.

She advised that the artefact was the size of her palm, was made of metal and, was 'copperish' in colour. I made my own mental note of this, with the intention of noting it down later at some point.

Returning to the lectures, Laura continued to make notes and sketches as the morning’s programme progressed, including a remarkably accurate drawing of one of the road junctions that approached the edge of the henge from the south, where she picked up a couple of names that she associated with a traffic fatality and subsequent suicide taking place there, that was linked to the traffic fatality.

A view of the junction, where the B4003 joins Beckhampton Road
Was this the scene of the tragedy seen by Laura?

She also included a another drawing sketch of the standing stone where the article had been concealed that she'd visualised earlier, again showing the identifying angle of one of it's sides.

Laura was also able to draw a quick sketch of what she thought at the time was the concealed artefact, which (to me) looked like the silhouette of the head and shoulders of a bust, surrounded by spikes, similar to the radiated light surrounding a religious icon that you sometimes see.

Interestingly, Laura had also drawn, as part of a map, something that looked like a building that had three gables, or perhaps three terraced houses, the central portion marked with the number ‘81’. The building(s) was located on Reeves Rd.

Beneath the map she had jotted down the name 'KELEHER' and the number '33'.

Although I didn't reveal anything to Laura at this time, the similarity to the surname of Alexander Keiller, was striking.

Keiller was the archaeologist most identified with the Avebury Henge and was active at the site during the 1930's, although not until the latter part of the decade.

In addition, later that afternoon during our tour of the henge, Laura would identify the Alexander Keiller Museum building itself, located in the henge, as the building that she had sketched earlier that morning.

Breaking for lunch, we took the opportunity to take a walk around the henge in the late autumn sunshine and visit some of the shops.

It was whilst visiting one of these shops that Laura suddenly drew my attention to a box full of horse brasses - "that's it!" Laura exclaimed "that’s what the artefact is - a horse brass!"

I could see the similarity with the Laura's sketch, so this was an interesting development, but only time would tell if Laura was correct.

Nothing further of interest was picked up by Laura during the remainder of the day’s sessions, leaving us a lot to discuss before the conference re-commenced the next morning.

Things get interesting

Sunday’s session started with updates on Collins’ recent psychic questing activity, interwoven with a couple of meditation sessions, before the talks turned their focus towards Collins forthcoming book ‘Beneath the Pyramids’, documenting his research of the Crystal Chambers, which was due to be published soon.

As we commenced the first meditation session of the morning, Laura immediately started to draw and make notes in her sketch pad.

Leaning over her shoulder, I could see that she’d written the names (amongst others) Eggerton and Melaya (a reference to Meonia? - discussed later in the day in a talk regarding the green stone saga), but most prominent of all was a crucifix, with what at first sight appeared to be flames shooting up from the base.

As the meditation drew to a close, Laura turned to me and asked me how close we were to the village church? I pointed out that it was immediately opposite the village hall, where the conference was taking place.

“We have to go there” said Laura, explaining that she had a sudden compulsion to visit.

As we quietly discussed the developing situation, proceedings were conveniently brought to a close for a 30 minute break, before we all commenced the hunt for the hidden questing artefact.

This allowed us a bit of time to explore the church grounds and hopefully gain access to the church itself to try and establish the reason behind Laura’s feelings.

Perhaps there was a connection to the traffic fatality (and subsequent suicide linked to the event) that Laura picked up on yesterday?

To the Church
Making our way out of the hall, we quickly headed across the road and into the church grounds.

 

St James's Church, Avebury

St James’ Church was the archetypical English village church, Anglo Saxon in origin with the oldest part of the building dating back to around 1000 AD. The building that visitors will recognise now, including the tower, dates from the 15th Century, although major work had been underway since the 12th Century.

We both took several photographs as we explored the churchyard, examining the names etched into the memorial stones. Slowly, we made our way towards the church porch, where we were faced with two old heavy wooden doors, complete with wrought iron fittings, barring our way.

I approached the doors and pushed – to my surprise they slowly creaked open. We were in luck!

Upon entering the church we split up, on the basis that we could cover more ground in the limited time we had available to us, Laura turning left towards the tower, whilst I went right, walking through the nave and into the chancel.

As I entered the chancel, I noticed some memorial plaques on the north wall, one immediately capturing my eye.

Constructed of white marble, mounted on black marble, it was dedicated to William and Mary Ann Tanner, who both passed away in the mid 19th Century.

The Tanner Memorial

However, what was striking was the stonemason’s name etched in the lower right corner – ‘Reeves Bath’. Taking into account that Avebury was located just off the A4 roman road to Bath, was this the ‘Reeves Rd’ Laura had picked up on during yesterday’s meditations?

Reeves Road?

Even more surprises were to come.

Continuing deeper into the chancel, on the opposite south wall, I spotted a large brass crucifix, highly ornate, with small fleur-de-lys sprouting out from the main column of the cross.

Again, was this the crucifix that Laura had sketched?

The 'flaming' Crucifix?

There were no ‘flames’, but it didn’t stretch the imagination too much to suggest that the fleur-de-lys could, perhaps, be an alternative take on the flames that Laura saw.

Excited by my find, I went and found Laura to show her the memorial and crucifix.

Laura could see my reasoning with the name on the Tanner memorial, but what did she think about the crucifix?

Laura clarified that she didn’t actually interpret the crucifix in her sketch as having flames, but instead, as having ‘something’ coming up from the base, as opposed to a straight forward cross design.

In this context, the large crucifix stood in front of us could be accepted as a match.

Looking at my watch and conscious of the time, I suggested that we wrap things up in the church and meet up with the others and come back on a later occasion if we felt the need too.

Laura exited the church, whilst I paused to read a notice on the south aisle wall, next to the doors. As I left the church I was faced with Laura, who, with a look of surprise on her face, told me that she thought she’d found a third match with her sketches.

She asked me to walk towards her and turn around to face the doors. I did as I was told and slowly turned around.

I immediately saw the reason for Laura’s excitement.

Were these the 'spikes' that Laura sketched?

Looking at the old church doors, there, to my astonishment, was the ‘bust’, surrounded by spikes, as originally sketched by Laura – the church doors representing the bust, whilst the carvings in the archway over the door representing the spikes.

As we walked quickly to meet up with the rest of the group, we discussed our morning’s findings but still struggled to arrive at a meaning to all this.

We’d possibly found matched for three of Laura’s sketches, but there appeared to be no links, that we knew of at least, to the road fatality and suicide that I’d originally assumed we’d be searching for.

Puzzles answered with even more puzzles. Very frustrating.

Joining up with everyone else back in the Village Hall, all the conversation seemed to be about who would be locating the artefact and, what exactly the artefact itself actually was.

Satisfied that everyone was now assembled, Andrew and his then wife Sue led us into the north east quadrant of the henge, where the search for the artefact was to take place.

As we walked into the field, I noted the stone that I thought visually looked the closest to Laura’s sketch.

Laura herself had changed her mind and now thought that the artefact was actually located elsewhere.

With more of an interest in documenting the event than actually joining in with the search, I made the decision at this point not to take part in the hunt, but take photographs for prosperity instead.

Andrew gathered everyone in the centre of the field and asked people to start walking to where they thought that the artefact was located.

Laura headed westwards, towards her new target.

After a less than a minute, Collins asked everyone to stop and eliminated those, including Laura, on the wrong side of an imaginary line.

He confirmed that those still left were heading for the correct general direction.

Off went the remaining contestants, towards their chosen mark.

The elimination process was repeated a couple of times until the contestants were narrowed down to the final two, who were gathered around, to my surprise, the stone I’d been able to identify from Laura’s sketch.

 

Laura's sketch of the stone, showing the angle of one of the sides
compared to the actual stone where the artefact was hidden.

The Artefact revealed

After a bit of prompting (and some subtle hands on help from Andrew himself) the artefact, a horse brass with a swan design, was finally recovered by Michael, who proved to be a most popular winner.

Inside I was again surprised – not only had I been able to identify the correct stone from Laura’s sketches, the artefact itself had also been correctly identified by Laura as a horse brass.

More food for thought. Perhaps.

Summary

We didn’t have the opportunity to go back to the church to pick up where we had left off and, to this day, we have never returned to Avebury, despite it being one of my favourite venues.

Overall, it was a very enjoyable weekend and, on a personal level for both Laura and myself, it raised a set of whole new questions with no immediate sign of any answers.

What exactly was Laura ‘sensing’?

Was it purely imagination or was there an actual relationship with the real world?

Were the matches we made with this information pure coincidence or just wishful thinking?

Hopefully we’ll find the answers one day!

As a footnote to this account of the events that occurred almost seven years ago now, we know that we will return to Avebury.

We both accept that we will need to go back to the church and continue where we had left off, perhaps then and only then, will we find the answers that we seek.

Laura and Mark.