Kingdom of Shadows:Creech Hill/Hermit’s Chapel
Oftentimes the job of the paranormal researcher is not an easy one, especially when it comes to ghostly legends. The majority of the time it is a difficult task to seperate the folklore concerning a haunting from a verifiable historical event or historical personage that centers around the witnessing of paranormal phenomenon and Great Britain is certainly guilty of this. However, we are lucky that many folks witness a ghost which gives it more credibility and take it out of the realm of folklore. Although, this may not constitute the hardcore scientific evidence that many of us seek to prove that life after death does in fact exist it does give us a point of reference to at least inquire about what was seen or what was heard.
The Horror of Creech Hill
Creech Hill in Somerset, England has been known to have a long history with being a place of evil and the home to wicked spirits that seek to scare the hell out of anyone who should be unlucky enough to traverse it’s lonely trails late at night. The horrible ghost associated with Creech Hill, many believe, is associated with the discovery an ancient Romano-Celtic Temple in the late nineteenth century. Ever since the discovery of this temple, which was believed to be a spot of human sacrifice, those who call the area home have witnessed a multitude of ghostly phenomenon. Strange lights have been seen bobbing about on the summit of the hill, loud peals of diabolical laughter that turns the blood cold with fear has been heard renting the night in two, but perhaps the most notable spirit that has been witnessed over the last century is a large black amorphous mass which is believed to be a mixture of all those who were sacrificed in the temple of many years ago. And from what eyewitness accounts tell us this ghost means business and does not wish to share it’s home with the living or the dead.
One such encounter with the evil ghost of Creech Hill occurred early in the last century. A local farmer was kept late at the locals farmer’s market by a heavy volume of customers and was forced to walk home by himself long after the sun had set. As the farmer walked home he felt himself growing increasingly tired, and the only shortcut was over Creech Hill. The farmer had heard the many tales that had come from this seemingly innocent hill and although he didn’t want to he was forced to take the shortcut over the hill.
As he walked down the path, the farmer, kept his wits about him waiting for any thing out of the ordinary or anything that may mean him harm. Halfway down the path the farmer could make out a large black shape laying in the middle of the of the road blocking his path fearing that perhaps a person had come under attack by bandits the farmer cautiosly approached the form. As the farmer was about to speak a great evil laugh pierced the night and the farmer’s blood ran cold as the figure that lay on the ground rose to it’s full height and let out a horrible screech. For a moment the farmer stood transfixed to the spot as he stared at the gigantic apparition that stood before him. Finally the farmer was able to regain his good sense and took off down the path.
As the farmer ran at top speed down the hill he looked behind his shoulder to see that the ghost was giving chase and appeared to be gaining. Just as the farmer was about to give up hope his home came into view and the farmer found the strength somehow to pick up speed. As he burst through his door he could hear the sound of a great weight slam into the door. Throughout the night the ghost of Creech Hill pounded on the walls while it let out it’s bloodcurdling screech. The farmer and his wife were kept up all night by the onslaught of the wicked ghost. Finally when the rooster crowed the assault stopped. The farmer cautiosly opened his door to see the first rays of sunlight peek over Creech Hill and the ghost was no longer there, the rising sun had chased it back to whatever hell it had come from.
One other tale of the horror of Creech Hill involves another poor soul who was forced to take the trail that wound through Creech Hill. A young man found himself walking the path late at night after staying to late at his girlfriends house. As the young man walked down the path he heard a great screech that filled the night and watched as a giant black form descended upon him out of the inky black dark of night. The young man struck at the form with his walking staff but found it completely useless when the staff passed through the ghost enveloped by it’s infinate blackness.
The young man did mortal battle with the ghost of Creech Hill until off in the distance the rooster crowed and the form that had kept him fighting for his life the entire night vanished. Hours later some ploughmen found the young man wandering the fields surrounding the hill completely out of his mind. The ploughman could see that this wild eyed lad had seen something terrible and took him to the home of the doctor to have the young man examined.
The young man stayed with the local doctor for several days because he was unable to state his name. However before he took his own life, the young man stood by the window that overlooked Creech Hill a terrified look on his face as he acted as if some unseen thing beckoned him to join it. The young man did join the horrible ghost when the doctor discovered the young man hanging from his own shirt infront of the window that looked out at Creech Hill.
Eternal Unrest of Jan Tregeagle
The lonely windswept moors of Bodmin have long been associated with ghostly phenomenon for centuries. Over the generations of those who came to the moors have reported strange lights, ghostly singing and have reported seeing spectral armies locked in eternal mortal combat. However perhaps the most popular ghost associated with the moors is a ghost on a mission. This ghost is said to be forced to wander the moors for all time because his deeds were so evil he will never be allowed to enter the pearly gates of heaven but his deeds were not so wicked for his soul to taste the flames of eternal hellfire. Allow me to explain.
Jan Tregeagle was known by many in Cornwall as being a slick dude. He was known as a corrupt magistrate who did all that he could to swindle his fellow citizens out of whatever money they may have had. Tregeagle, was also known to have bribed the local monks with large sums of money because Tregeagle knew that he would most likely not be buried in consecrated ground due to his deeds and he believed that the monks would lay his mortal remains in holy ground if he “donated” to their coffers.
One day Tregeagle was hired to act as a lawyer on behalf of a family who was involved in a land dispute with their neighbors. After looking upon the choice real estate, Tregeagle launched a devious plot to make himself a beneficiary of the land. While in court Tregeagle produced forged deeds that showed he was the actual owner of the disputed land. He explained to the court that he had just come upon this deed as he was looking through some old paperwork in his his attic. For whatever reason Tregeagle dropped dead right in the middle of the proceedings. The judge was so shocked by this sudden death he suspended court proceedings for a week so the family of Jan Tregeagle could bury their kinsman. No one ever claimed the body and no one came to the funeral, Jan Tregeagle went to his eternal rest unlamented. Kind of sucks being a well known douchebag.
When the court resumed the judge was about to find in favor of the land dispute when one of the witnesses a well known practicioner of magic summoned the spirit of Jan Tregeagle from the dead. Those who were present were shocked when the shimmering form of the corrupt lawyer appeared in the witness box and testified that he in fact had forged the papers and named the rightful owners of the disputed land. When his spirit did not leave the monks who Tregeagle had been bribing for years came and gave the sad specter a task. The monks handed the spirit a cracked shell and sent him into the moors where he was to be guarded by hellhounds who watched as he attempted to empty the legendary Dozmary pool.
One day the spirit of Jan Tregeagle had had enough of this endless task and made a break from the pool while the hellhounds slept. When the hounds discovered their charge missing they gave chase and found the backside of Tregeagle sticking out the wall of the local chapel, for whatever reason only his head was able to gain sanctuary in the tiny church. With the Hellhounds snapping at his backside, Tregeagle pleaded with the priest to help him. Saddened by this pathetic wandering spirit the priest banished the hellhounds and told the Spirit of Tregeagle that if he wanted to keep his soul out of hell he must forever do meaningless tasks. Tregeagle accepted the priest’s tasks and is said to forever wander Bodmin Moor performing endless futile tasks.
Jan Tregeagle was a real person there are records pertaining to his existence and the fact that he was a person of low morals but whether or not his spirit really wanders the moors vainly attempting to complete futile tasks is another questions. Many have reported seeing this lonely spirit and have even claimed to have been helped by the spirit of Jan Tregeagle who is said to dissappear when the person goes to give his thanks. It would appear that the spirit of Jan Tregeagle shall never find rest.
Rick E. Hale