It is a beautifully warm late Spring day and Little Bear is excitedly telling me about the plague. He has never really been one for setting the scene. As we sit on a bench overlooking the Dorset countryside, listening to skylarks over the fields and dunnocks in the hedgerows, the horrors of the black death were very definitely the last thing on my mind. Our grim little bear doesn’t seem to notice. He is on the trail of a local legend, which has brought us to the village of Lytchett Matravers. Putting on his most mysterious voice, he tells me that we may be about to encounter ghosts and that if I listen very closely I might even hear the voices of those who perished some 600 or more years ago.

Today, the village of Lytchett Matravers sits somewhat adrift from its church. In its earliest days it was clustered around the church and manor house, but when the black death swept the Dorsetshire countryside in the mid-thirteen hundreds the village was decimated. It was largely de-populated by 1400 and a new village popped up further away from the relics of the old settlement. This is where the legend begins.

If you walk from the village to the church today you can step off the main road and take a footpath called Church Path. It leaves the main road just beyond the rectory and skirts Garden Wood toward the church, where about half way along, there is a kink in the path known as Whispering Corner. It is said that if you linger here a while you will hear the whispering voices of those that have passed this way before. The haunting is so prolific that you might hear these muffled words day or night, but never loud enough to understand what is being said. No one quite knows of their origin, but the legend of the speakers being connected to the plague times is a common theme.

Some say that this was something of a corpse path, where the dead were carried from the village to a distant plague pit. Others say that a group of villagers tried to flee the village toward the coast, but were already too weak to make it beyond this point where they perished and were buried.

If you continue walking this eerie path you end up at the parish church of St Mary the Virgin. The earliest parts of this building date to around 1200, but it’s possible that it was built on a site that was already sacred. Standing here, it is worth a moment of imagination to visualize the scene that this building must have been witness too during the demise of the early medieval village… another witness to these events, and many earlier ones, is an ancient Yew tree which has grown here since around AD 590.

One of the most notable early burials here is that of John, 1^st Baron Maltravers. Born in around 1290 he was knighted and had a turbulent career during which he was made a custodian of Edward II. He was implicated in the king’s death in 1327 and in later years would be exiled following the fall from grace of those who sided with Isabella and Mortimer. He would eventually return to England and when he died in 1364 he was laid to rest at St Mary’s. It is said that he was interred in full armour. The years after this saw the slow decline of the church. As the village failed it was left to deteriorate for several centuries until the village began to grow again a mile or so away, when it was restored and used once again.

In more recent times the churchyard has become the final resting place for a number of our military, with burials from the First and Second World wars as well as men lost during more recent conflicts.

The Commonwealth War Graves here belong to the following:

Private Hubert George Martin of the 2^nd Battalion Hampshire Regiment. He was born in late 1894 and before the war was employed as a groom. He sadly died on 18^th March 1919 of pneumonia at age 24.

Private Wesley Wellman enlisted on 1^st September 1914 and served with the Dorsetshire Regiment. In the 1911 census he was shown as single and employed as a general labourer. He would be wounded during the war and was finally discharged from the army in May of 1919. He sadly died on 17^th February 1920 at the age of 39. Unfortunately I don’t know his cause of death, but it could well have been a result of the injuries he sustained while still serving.

From the Second World War we have:

Guardsman Stewart Roy Short of the 4^th Battalion Grenedier Guards. He was born of 10^th January 1920 and was killed in action on 20^th October 1940, aged 20. A note in the burial register reads ’First casualty of the second Great War’.

Ordinary Seaman Gordon Hector MacDonald Ridland of the Royal Navy. He was born on 21^st November 1921 and was assigned to HMS Spartiate, which was a Royal Navy shore base near Glasgow in Scotland. I don’t know the circumstances of his death, but on 23^rd January 1942 he passed away at Borough Sanatorium in Weymouth. The ‘sanatorium’ was an isolation hospital and treated infectious diseases, including TB. He was just 20 years old and was buried on 29^th January 1942.

As mentioned there are several more recent burials of men lost in modern conflict from various regiments, including those lost while serving with special forces.

There are probably many more stories to be told from this churchyard alone, so if you decide to seek out the echoes of the past along the Church Path, don’t forget to have a walk around the churchyard it delivers you into. You never know what stories you might uncover….

It’s late April and we are about to visit the historic town of Dorchester in Dorset.

With a lively history stretching back to Roman times on display, it’s a must visit kind of place for the history enthusiast. It’s also a must visit for anyone interested in the history of crime and punishment. As we wandered from the campervan into town, Little Bear began to tell me about the fascinating evolution of the town’s criminal past…

There has been a prison in Dorchester since 1305, though not always on the same site. The first was situated at the end of Icen Way, which was then known as Gaol Lane. At this time public executions took place on a gallows at junction of modern day Icen Way and South Walks. The site marked by a sculpture of the Roman Catholic martyrs. The sculpture was unveiled in 1986 to commemorate all those who were executed for their faith in the 16th and 17th centuries, including several known to have been killed on the gallows where the sculpture now stands.

By the early 1700s the gallows were moved to a spot near the amphitheatre. Known as Maumbury Rings, it was originally a Neolithic henge which had been modified by the Romans into an amphitheatre. It also underwent further remodelling during the Civil War when it was used as an artillery fort by Parliamentary forces. It’s possible to see where the gallows stood, as the road alongside in the drawing was the road to Weymouth and is still called Weymouth Avenue today.

Although the gallows stood outside the amphitheatre, other executions took place within it. On 21st March 1706 Mary Channing was strangled and burned at the stake for murdering her husband with poison. She had not wanted to get married and soon after being persuded to do so by her parents, she obtained what was thought to be white lead to poison her him. Her husband realised what she must have done after falling violently ill and lived just long enough to write a will in favour of his father. He died soon after, and Mary fled. She was eventually tricked into returning home where she was arrested. There was little doubt as to her guilt and at 19 years old she was publicly executed at Maumbury Rings.

For a brief period between 1633 and 1795 there had been another prison built in High East Street, and the condemned from there were also executed at the amphitheatre gallows. The completion of the most recent prison in 1795 on the site of the old Dorchester Castle saw the executions moved to within the new prison walls. The executions were still public affairs though. The gallows were sited both on the prison roof and earlier over the gates of the prison entrance. The executions on top of the prison were within clear view of the nearby water meadows, where people could gather to watch in vast numbers. Staging was built for spectators and ‘hang fairs’ took place to occupy the crowds while the they awaited the execution itself.

Prior to 1861 there were over 200 crimes which could qualify you for the death penalty. After 1861 this was reduced to just four (murder, arson in a royal dockyard, treason, and piracy with violence). A short walk from the site of the prison is a thatched cottage where Dorchester’s 17th century executioner lived.

He was famously remembered as the man who carried out the execution of Monmouth’s rebels after they had been sentenced to death by Judge Jeffreys. 150 years after Mary Channing became the last woman executed by burning at the stake in Dorset, Martha Brown would become the last woman to be hanged in Dorset. Their stories are quite different. Martha was 45 when she was executed for the murder of her second husband. He had previously been found to be unfaithful and she brought it up during an argument after he returned home drunk. They fought violently and he took a whip to her. She retaliated by striking him with an axe. Although there were many who were sympathetic to her situation, she was executed on 9th August 1856. Britain’s principal executioner William Calcraft was appointed as hangman. Her execution was famously witnessed by a 16 year old Thomas Hardy, who found inspiration for his work ‘Tess of the D’Urbervilles’ while watching Martha upon the gallows.

If you want to visit these places, the What Three Words locator is:

The Martyr’s Gallows: ///motor.glider.timeds

The Old Gaol : ///missions.clouds.replaying

Path to view the Water Meadows : ///milk.joined.wealth

Hangmans Cottage: ///publisher.flank.part

Maumbury Rings Amphitheatre: ///grins.lawns.bronzer

On a sunny mid-March day Little Bear said he wanted to go to Fotheringhay Castle. I knew, vaguely, that it was in Northamptonshire somewhere and that once upon a time Mary, Queen of Scots has been held captive there. That was the extent of my knowledge and so I had no idea what to expect on visiting. Little Bear told me that Mary had actually been tried and executed in the castle and he wanted to go and walk in her footsteps, so off we went.… We parked in the village and found a foot path to the site of the castle.

Today there is just the castle mound remaining, and a small remnant of masonry - duly protected with railings and a plaque. The castle was founded around 1100 and sited alongside the River Nene. In its heyday it was the favoured home of the Dukes of York. It was even the birthplace of King Richard III. After the Wars of the Roses drew to an end, the castle became a state prison. This was how Mary, Queen of Scots came to be here. She was tried in the Great Hall during October 1586. The trial only lasted two days, but she had to wait a further two months before Queen Elizabeth I signed her death warrant.

She was executed on 8th February 1587 and the execution took place in the Great Hall. Although nothing still stands of the Great Hall, there are drawings of the castle and it’s possible to walk the site with imagination engaged to get an idea of what this must have been like. Little Bear surveyed the site and picked the spot he felt the right ‘vibes’. He wanted to lie down and imagine what it was like to be beheaded like a royal in the 16th Century. Unfortunately, it was a warm, sunny day and he was a tired little bear… so he fell asleep. I left him in the sun while I explored the rest of the site.

Less than 50 years after this sad moment in history, the castle was ruinous. In the late 1620s it was dismantled and the masonry and interior woodwork sold off to local people. The best example of 17th century architectural reclaim is to be found at the Talbot Hotel in nearby Oundle. As Little Bear had been rudely awoken by a grazing sheep and was ready to leave, I took him to meet Queen Mary’s ghost!

Oundle is an absurdly beautiful little town. The Grade I listed Talbot Hotel is in the centre of town and has stood on the site since the 1500s. It was redeveloped in the 17th century and the distinctive facade dates from the time of Fotheringhay’s demolition. It wasn’t just stonework that was reused here though. A great window is thought to have come from the castle, and if you venture inside you’ll see that one of Fotheringhay’s staircases also made the move. It is on this staircase that you may witness the condemned Queen, walking slowly down, one step at a time. She has been seen many times over the years and legend states that this was her final decent down toward the Great Hall, captured in time for more than 400 years. Little Bear was certain he could feel her energy and wanted to stay the night to investigate more. Unfortunately, I had somewhere I needed to be. Maybe next time, Little Bear…

I will add more photos from our visit it Fotheringhay to Little Bear’s socials account, which can be found @ darkhistory.with.littlebear on IG and Threads.

If you travel the road between Sibson and Yoxford in the county of Suffolk, you will find a lane heading north joining the road about half way along. It is marked on maps as Asker’s Hill, but locally you may have at one time heard it referred to as Dead Man’s Lane. Along Dead Man’s Lane you pass over the Danbrook Bridge which sounds entirely unremarkable. Just after the unremarkable bridge you find yourself at Dead Man’s Corner and this is also where we find our Grim Little Bear, ready to pick up the story.

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As my regular readers will know, my travelling companion is a rather Grim Little Bear called Silver. He seeks out all the darkest corners of local history and this was a piece of disappearing history he couldn’t ignore on the September afternoon that we passed through this sleepy corner of the Suffolk countryside. As ever, Silver’s stories almost always need a trigger warning and this tale includes mentions of suicide, so please consider if this is the article for you before proceeding.

Standing on this quiet lane today there isn’t anything much to see. Until the early 1940s however there were grave-markers still extant. At that time, in the midst of the second world war, this wide open corner began to be used to dump the harvested crops of sugar beet. It is said that until 1942 the graves had been tended to by a local man named James Leverett. The Leverett family at this time had two generations named James, so I’m not sure if it was father or son who took responsibility of caring for this spot, perhaps both. Maybe it was a task handed down as the years passed. By 1942, however, much had changed for the Leverett’s which may have put an end to this little ritual. James Leverett, the son, had married in 1937 and welcomed a daughter the following year. James Leverett senior had lost two brothers in 1941 and this too may have affected their lives and routines. Whatever the reason, by the mid 1940s the grave-markers had been repeatedly damaged and eventually disappeared. The location of the graves now slowly left to memory. Some years later when knowledge had given way to legend, some roadworkers dealing with subsidence on the lane decided to dig the spot and see if there was any truth the legend of the burials. Human bones were found, and I hope fully reburied.

Often when it comes to wayside graves we have very little information on who was buried and why. Both suicides and executed murderers would be buried at cross-roads and often tales just develop over the centuries. A name or nickname may be added to a map, but often it is just the ‘Dead Man’s Corner’ or something similar. Here however, we have more!

There were apparently two graves here, the earliest of which dated to 1782 and was said to belong to Jeremiah Woolnough. On Saturday 22^nd June 1782 the Ipswich Journal reported:

“On Monday last an inquisition was taken at Yoxford by J.Turner, Gent., on the body of Jeremiah Woolnough, who hanged himself, jury's verdict felo-de-se”

At this time a verdict of felo-de-se, or self-murder, would have meant that the deceased wouldn’t be permitted a Christian burial. Suicide, or self-murder, was a crime and they would have to be buried in un-consecrated ground. Wayside spots were often chosen, and usually at a cross-roads. There is no cross-roads here today, but the road turns at a right angle, indicating that perhaps the field boundary lines heading north and west may have once been footpaths. This is speculation on my part, but it’s important to remember that roads of the late 1700s would have been barely more than well-trodden tracks in these rural areas and not all would have been made up into the roads we see today.

Just twenty years later the spot would be used again for another local man. His death was reported in several newspapers and in the Staffordshire Advertiser on Saturday 4^th July 1801 it was reported:

“On Monday last, Mr Danbrook, a respectable shopkeeper, at Yoxford, near Halesworth, in Suffolk, shot himself at the breakfast table, where his wife and Mr Rutland, surgeon, of that place, were present. A domestic calamity, at the present time but too common, is supposed to have been the occasion of this catastrophe. Jurors verdict, felo-de-se. The body of the deceased was of course interred in the highway”.

An earlier edition of the Ipswich Journal had stated he was a tailor and draper.

We now know, however, where the unremarkable bridge got its name. Danbrook Bridge keeps the memory of this unfortunate soul alive, albeit with a little more digging required now than once upon a time.

Today, this corner is a very peaceful spot and assuming the bones of these men, and possibly others, are still below the ground here, we hope they are resting peacefully.

Incidentally, to my followers that, like me, enjoy spotting signs of the old ways, just opposite this corner was the site of the old pound. There is nothing left today, but old OS maps show Pound Cottage quite clearly. If you’d like to know a little more about Pounds, I featured them in Issue Two of the Norma Explores supporters magazine. This can be purchased as a PDF download or printed edition via my Ko-Fi shop HERE. It is also offered for free to my paid supporters on Patreon. If you wish to become a financial supporter of the Norma Explores project on Patreon or Ko-Fi, you will be given a complimentary ‘paid for life membership’ to my Substack. One subscription covers all content across my platforms.