Blimey ~ I need to get out more ............. LMAO

I have been on here on & off 'cos we have a leaky conservatory....and I cant go out........ *gripe* ........ and anyhoo, have been looking into Death Omens and Phantom Coaches (have loads of them in my file) and found this little story from Cornwall for you ~

'A lonely drive through quiet country lanes one wet November afternoon led to an extraordinary encounter for Mr Cliff Hockin of Mevagissey. He was driving from Mevagissey to Truro to visit his wife in hospital when, to his shock and amazement he rounded a round bend and without warning was suddenly confronted with an old fashioned stagecoach thundering along the road towards him, drawn by four horses galloping at full speed.At the reigns sat a coachman in a greatcoat with wide blue lapels, whipping the horses into a frenzy of speed.Beside the driver blowing a posthorn sat the guard, clad in a scarlet coat and black hat. Horrified, Mr Hocking stamped on his brakes, stalling the car and throwing his hands up over his face.As the mysterious coach bore down on him, the thundering wheels, galloping hooves and urgent blast of the horn rising to a crescendo, he sat helplessly awaiting the imminent collision. Nothing happened.Instead, the terrifying sounds of the coach ceased abruptly and all was quiet again.When he looked up it had literally disappeared into thin air. The road was empty.

What did Mr Hocking really see? Was it a phantom coach drawn by ghostly horses? Or was he witnessing a flashback to the past, some strange atmospheric conditions of which we know little conspiring to show him a vivid picture of yesteryear? The phenomenon of phantom coaches drawn by ghostly horses is not an uncommon one, especially in the uncommonly haunted county of Cornwall, but to Mr Hocking this vision was a very real one. He remembers quite clearly that the coach was painted bright red, low bodied with small doors and windows and a sloping rear. Such a coach would once have carried the mail to towns and villages in the vicinity - some two hundred years ago.Why was the driver in such a hurry? Well perhaps he was late with the post - or maybe he had a rendezvous to meet.After all Walter Cross - the Mevagissey man who had introduced the stagecoach service into Cornwall in 1796 was, among other things, a smuggler.Was it him at the reins?

http://www.ghoststories.org.uk/index.htm

Cool, phantom coaches. It's a fascinating idea, that there might be lots of hot spots (or should that be cold spots), where an unfortunate traveller can run into one of these phantoms of the past.

That's unless this particular encounter wasn't a ghost, but was a time slip. Imagine the shock the 18th century coach driver would have had, suddenly confronting a moving metal box, which then vanished, just before the collision.

I interveiwed a lady who saw a Phantom Coach here in Dorset. She was a young girl at the time and was with her mother, walking back from a very old village church. They both heard the clanking and the creaking of the wheels, and saw 'a beautiful, very ornate' coach come towards them........ as it passed them they noticed that the wheels werw about 6" in the road surace....and then it 'melted'.......they had seen the famous Phantom Coach of Langton Long.........

Was wonderful talking to her!

Hammy x x x

Buzz Buzz Buzz

Another good one Hams.....I wonder why sightings of phantom coaches are so common though, any ideas ??

Another ghostly coach from my trusty ghost handbook.

In 1970, when he was 9 years old, a boy was out cycling with his friends at Uplyme in Dorset. He got some way ahead of his friends and was out of their sight when he saw what he described as a stage-coach "like you see in pictures". Red and black with gold trimmings, it was pulled by four horses. The driver wore an eye mask and had a red feather in his cap; there were two other men riding alongside the coach. The boy saw the coach turn ou tof a white gate and come straight towards him. He momentarily looked away and when he looked back it had vanished.

Some of the details seem to tie in with the history of the road. It was in fact the old coaching road at Whitty Hill, and at the point where the boy saw the coach there used to be white gates, a fact unknown to the boy at the time.

Here are some more tales:

The old Great North Road ran along the eastern edge of the county through the towns of Newark, Tuxford and East Retford. It is a road that has been travelled by many colourful characters... The best known Nottinghamshire highwayman was John 'Swift Nick' Nevison (1639-1684), so called, it is said, by King Charles II himself.
Nevison's gang of six outlaws met at the Talbot Inn at Newark and robbed travellers along the Great North Road as far north as York and as far south as Huntindon.

The old road has now been bypassed by the A1. For centuries it was the main route from London to York and beyond. Many of the old coaching inns still survive from those days, like pearls on a string. With a constant ebb and flow of human life, the old Great North Road has ghosts and legends all of its own.
Wealthy travellers on the road proved a magnet for footpads and highwaymen and many were relieved of their valuables with the cry "Your money or your life!"

Swift Nick

The best known Nottinghamshire highwayman was John " Swift Nick " Nevison (1639-1684), so called, it is said, by King Charles II himself.
Some sources suggest it was Nevison, and not Turpin, who made the famous London to York ride to establish an alibi.
Nevison's gang of six outlaws met at the Talbot Inn at Newark and robbed travellers along the Great North Road as far north as York and as far south as Huntindon.
The gang were betrayed in 1676 by one Elizabeth Burton after she was arrested for stealing.
Nevison was transported to Tangiers, but returned to England in 1681 and once more took to highway robbery.
Although King Charles offered a reward for his recapture, Nevison remained at large for 4 years.
Once apprehended, the trial judge showed no mercy - Nevison was sentenced to hang at Tyburn, near London.

On the morning of March 15th, 1685 Nevison mounted the scaffold. He gave a speech to the huge crowd that had gathered in which he asked for forgiveness for his crimes and warned others not to follow in his path. Having said his piece, the hangman despatched "Swift Nick".
The body was buried at St. Mary Church, York, in an unmarked grave.

The menace on the roof:

A tale told in coaching days has been updated and is still told today.
Originally the tale went like this...

A coach was travelling along the Great North Road with a young married couple aboard. Midway between towns the coach lost a wheel, and the coachmen decided to walk on to the next stop to summon help.
The couple inside the coach were quite happy at first to be left alone. Darkness began to fall and the night grew cold. Impatient at the long delay, and fearing his new wife would get a chill, the husband decided to walk a little way up the road himself and watch for the coachmen whilst there was still light to see by.
The lady sat alone, keeping warm as best she could. After some time she became anxious for her husband's return, but feared the inky darkness outside.
She was soon reassured when she heard voices approaching. Her relief turned to alarm when she heard shouts and the sounds of running men.
Someone jumped up on the roof of the coach and it began to sway alarmingly, then loud thumps above threatened to bring the roof down upon her.
Scrambling to the window she was dazzled by the light of many lamps, and she shaded her eyes with her hand. Then a voice, from what seemed a crowd, called to her,
" Miss! You must open the door slowly and walk towards the light. On no account look behind you!"
Trembling she opened the door and on unsteady legs walked towards the silent lamp-bearers. When almost to them, she turned to look back at the coach.
There on the roof, caught in the lamp light, crouched a man. His features were horribly twisted with rage and his eyes were the wild red unseeing eyes of a raving lunatic.
As she watched, the snapped chains from the manacles at his wrists began to flayed about him, as he banged her husband's severed head on the roof of the coach.

In the modern version the coach has become a car that has run out of petrol, but the story remains the same.

The owd lad:

In bygone days Nottinghamshire folk using the road would like to get home before dark as they might encounter the "Owd Lad", the Devil himself in his black coach and four.
One old carrier is said have seen it drive past him, "all on fire like brimstone, pulled by four skeleton horses".

Another legend has it that on moonlit nights a coach and six, driven by a headless coachman, conveying a headless richly dressed nobleman, is seen rattling down the road at a furious pace.
The coach, horses and headless phantoms then vanish as suddenly as they appeared.

There's a whole fleet of these spectral vehicals trundling around Britain. What must have been the first phanton hitchiker actually materialized in real horse drawn coaches in Crossgate Peth, Durham. A chill would fill the carriage and the occupants would find an additional passenger, a grey lady, among them as their conveyance passed along this street. She would disappear once they reached the memorial to the Battle of Nevilles Cross, leading some to believe she seeks her husband who died in the battle and who had not told her he had enlisted.