Is there anything creepier than an animal spectre? Particularly when it is seen doing an un-animal-like thing, such as walking on two legs? I've always been intrigued by ghostly dog/shuck stories, dating back to the first time I read Hans Christian Andersen's 'The Tinderbox.' See earlier entries 'The Beast of Brymbo' and 'The Black Dogs of South Mountain.'
What is a Shuck?
What is a Padfoot?
These stories have spellbound listeners for centuries, even millennia, but even in our modern, 'enlightened' technological 21st century, new sightings and stories are still being reported. Here are a few stories that were posted on Paranormal Database just during the last month or so.
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Postman's Dog
A postman in Wales reported that every night, at the Ewenny crossroads where one road leads to Ogmore, he would watch as a large phantom black dog appeared, moving purposefully as if it were on a mission. It made no sound as it passed. This story may date to the nineteenth century.
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Trotting Dog
Also in Wales, a predictable but elusive Shuck is said to appear every night at midnight at the crossroads between Bridgend and Laleston. This haunting is ongoing. People who have attempted to follow the hound-like creature have always lost sight of it, despite their efforts.
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Changing Entity
In Durham, the area of Glassensikes (river) and Harewood Hill was once said to be haunted by a large black dog which could sometimes change into a rabbit, a white cat, a headless woman, or a flaming headless man. The age of this legend is unknown.
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Padfoot
At Horbury in Yorkshire, in the area of Jenkin Road, a man returning home caught a glimpse of a white dog in the hedgerow. He struck at it with a stick, which passed straight through the dog. The dog didn't flee, but turned around and stared at the man. He ran home, where he became sick and later died. This shuck is said to sometimes run around on two legs. Catching sight of it is considered to be a portent of death.
This legend dates at least as far back as the nineteenth century.
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White Lass Beck
A stream near Thirsk in Yorkshire has long been said to be haunted by the spirit of a maid who was murdered in the area, in the nineteenth century or earlier. Her body was found buried in a gravel pit. White Lass Beck appears as a woman dressed in white, but also has taken the form of a white dog or a white cow.
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Showing posts with label Wales. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wales. Show all posts
The Red Path - Part One
The following is one of the strangest stories of "the creepy" that I have ever heard. Although the geographical area of the events has been inhabited by humans for 3000 years, the accounts of this 'creature' that I've been able to find only date back to the early 1970s.
The border between Wales and England is traditionally an area that has been full of contrasts and conflict. It is not surprising, to me anyway, that it is also very rich in folklore and tales of the weird.
Here is the account of 'The Beast of Brymbo' as related by Richard Holland, the editor of the website Uncanny UK:
"Twenty years ago a friend, Wendi Clough, told me a very strange story. The child of a young mum she knew had come home in tears one afternoon after being frightened by what he described as ‘a cow standing up like a person with smoke coming out of its nose’. He and his little friend had both seen this fiendish shape and had run home in terror.
Childish imagination? A trick played on two small children? Something like that, I thought - but the eerie image of this ‘cow’ on its hind legs stayed in my memory. There was something so medieval about it, so devilish. Unfortunately, Wendi had lost touch with the informant and because she had heard the story a year or two previously, she couldn’t remember where exactly it was supposed to have taken place. All she could tell me was that it was ‘somewhere near Wrexham [in North-East Wales] and that it was on a path that goes up a hill in the middle of the village and acts as a short cut’.
Come forward two decades and I happen to mention this odd anecdote to another friend, Jonathan Edwards, who now lives in Gresford between Wrexham and Chester. ‘That sounds like Brymbo,’ he told me. ‘The village is split into two levels, with a big sandstone outcrop dividing them. There’s a path called the Red Path which goes up it.’
Jonathan was brought up in Brymbo and knows the village well, but had never heard of it being haunted by such a spectre. His mother, however, had heard something about it. When Jonathan mentioned it to her, she recalled that two women she knew had spoken of encountering something very similar.
And this is how I met Mrs J and Mrs S (both names on record). Their brush with what I can’t help but call The Beast of Brymbo took place one bright, moonlit night in December, 1985. They were both happy to admit that they had had a few drinks before the sighting, since they had been walking home after a jolly night out at the Miner’s Arms. However, there was no doubting their conviction; indeed, Mrs S became suddenly a bit tearful when she remembered how frightened she had been. Genuine encounters with the Very Strange can have that effect, as I know myself. Ms J told the story, with occasional corrections or added details from Mrs S. This is a prĂ©cis:
‘We were walking up the Red Path at about midnight. When we got near the top, we paused for a breather, leaning on the railings. Just there, to the left, there is another set of very steep steps which you can take as a short cut. But they’re very overgrown and can be slippery, so I wasn’t being serious when I suggested we take them. But because I did so, [Mrs S] looked up in that direction. [Mrs S] said: “What’s that looking at us?”
‘I looked up and there it was, standing on the bank. It was cow-like, standing on its hind legs and at least 6ft tall. It was a light brown colour and smooth haired. There were two little bumps where you might expect horns. We could see it clearly because it was illuminated by the moon and the streetlights. It just stood there, frowning down at us with its eyes wrinkled up. Its hooves were sort of dangling down in front of it. We ran up the Red Path but then realised it could easily cut us off at the top. When we got there, though, it had vanished.’
Mrs S continued: ‘I realised I had dropped my scarf on the path, so I had to go back for it. I was so frightened. The thing didn’t appear again but I didn’t dare use that path for a whole month.’
That was the end of their adventure. There’s no doubt in my mind that the two children referred to above saw the same thing, possibly in the same year (although admittedly there was no ‘smoke’ emerging from nostrils on this occasion). Mrs J and Mrs S are convinced it wasn’t somebody in a costume: ‘It was too realistic. The proportions were all wrong and the legs were too thin.’
It may have been some sort of dummy but someone must have been waiting in the bushes on that cold night to have removed it so quickly. On the same evening that I met Mrs J and Mrs S, however, I also met a Mr J (no relation), who had another strange experience in Brymbo more than a decade earlier. His sighting bears similarities to The Beast of Brymbo and I shall recount it in my next article.
[SOURCE: Personal communication with the author, 1988 and 2004]"
copyright 2008 Richard Holland
*click below for*
A Walk Around Brymbo - with links to photos of the town and its surroundings!
~to be continued~
The border between Wales and England is traditionally an area that has been full of contrasts and conflict. It is not surprising, to me anyway, that it is also very rich in folklore and tales of the weird.
Here is the account of 'The Beast of Brymbo' as related by Richard Holland, the editor of the website Uncanny UK:
"Twenty years ago a friend, Wendi Clough, told me a very strange story. The child of a young mum she knew had come home in tears one afternoon after being frightened by what he described as ‘a cow standing up like a person with smoke coming out of its nose’. He and his little friend had both seen this fiendish shape and had run home in terror.
Childish imagination? A trick played on two small children? Something like that, I thought - but the eerie image of this ‘cow’ on its hind legs stayed in my memory. There was something so medieval about it, so devilish. Unfortunately, Wendi had lost touch with the informant and because she had heard the story a year or two previously, she couldn’t remember where exactly it was supposed to have taken place. All she could tell me was that it was ‘somewhere near Wrexham [in North-East Wales] and that it was on a path that goes up a hill in the middle of the village and acts as a short cut’.
Come forward two decades and I happen to mention this odd anecdote to another friend, Jonathan Edwards, who now lives in Gresford between Wrexham and Chester. ‘That sounds like Brymbo,’ he told me. ‘The village is split into two levels, with a big sandstone outcrop dividing them. There’s a path called the Red Path which goes up it.’
Jonathan was brought up in Brymbo and knows the village well, but had never heard of it being haunted by such a spectre. His mother, however, had heard something about it. When Jonathan mentioned it to her, she recalled that two women she knew had spoken of encountering something very similar.
And this is how I met Mrs J and Mrs S (both names on record). Their brush with what I can’t help but call The Beast of Brymbo took place one bright, moonlit night in December, 1985. They were both happy to admit that they had had a few drinks before the sighting, since they had been walking home after a jolly night out at the Miner’s Arms. However, there was no doubting their conviction; indeed, Mrs S became suddenly a bit tearful when she remembered how frightened she had been. Genuine encounters with the Very Strange can have that effect, as I know myself. Ms J told the story, with occasional corrections or added details from Mrs S. This is a prĂ©cis:
‘We were walking up the Red Path at about midnight. When we got near the top, we paused for a breather, leaning on the railings. Just there, to the left, there is another set of very steep steps which you can take as a short cut. But they’re very overgrown and can be slippery, so I wasn’t being serious when I suggested we take them. But because I did so, [Mrs S] looked up in that direction. [Mrs S] said: “What’s that looking at us?”
‘I looked up and there it was, standing on the bank. It was cow-like, standing on its hind legs and at least 6ft tall. It was a light brown colour and smooth haired. There were two little bumps where you might expect horns. We could see it clearly because it was illuminated by the moon and the streetlights. It just stood there, frowning down at us with its eyes wrinkled up. Its hooves were sort of dangling down in front of it. We ran up the Red Path but then realised it could easily cut us off at the top. When we got there, though, it had vanished.’
Mrs S continued: ‘I realised I had dropped my scarf on the path, so I had to go back for it. I was so frightened. The thing didn’t appear again but I didn’t dare use that path for a whole month.’
That was the end of their adventure. There’s no doubt in my mind that the two children referred to above saw the same thing, possibly in the same year (although admittedly there was no ‘smoke’ emerging from nostrils on this occasion). Mrs J and Mrs S are convinced it wasn’t somebody in a costume: ‘It was too realistic. The proportions were all wrong and the legs were too thin.’
It may have been some sort of dummy but someone must have been waiting in the bushes on that cold night to have removed it so quickly. On the same evening that I met Mrs J and Mrs S, however, I also met a Mr J (no relation), who had another strange experience in Brymbo more than a decade earlier. His sighting bears similarities to The Beast of Brymbo and I shall recount it in my next article.
[SOURCE: Personal communication with the author, 1988 and 2004]"
copyright 2008 Richard Holland
*click below for*
A Walk Around Brymbo - with links to photos of the town and its surroundings!
~to be continued~
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Lost and Found
(Note: this article was written in December of 2023 for the winter/spring issue of Washington College Magazine.) (Headline) Lost by a tee...