Miterdale's ghoulish nightmare

Near the top of the Miterdale Valley in the early nineteenth century was a small farmhouse known as Beckside. It was the uppermost farmhouse in the valley since the "Nanny Horns", an inn on the old packhorse route, had fallen into ruins many years before. Beckside was owned by Joe and Ann Southward. Although poor, they were contented with their idyllic though arduous life style. The farm served their needs and was complete with a barn, cow house and stable. But, the thing that really completed their life was their son, la’al Joe. They had gone several years without being able to produce a child and so he had become the focus of their lives. They determined to give young Joe a better start in life than their own early struggle. What little savings they could accumulate from their daily toil they put into an old teapot in a cupboard by the door. Despite the fact that in those days country people rarely even locked their front doors, Joe put a strong lock on the cupboard to make sure their life-savings were safe.

One day Joe had to go on business to Whitehaven. Of course, this was quite a long journey on horseback and Joe realised, despite setting off first thing in the morning, there was a possibility he might not be home by nightfall. He told Ann that if he were not home by 9 o’clock that he would be stopping for the night at Santon. She hoped this would not be the case as it was the first time in their 8 years of marriage that they had been parted. However, she was a practical woman and if he had to go away on business then that was that - So there was little fuss as she waved him goodbye.

Ann worked all through the day on her usual chores of feeding the animals whilst always keeping one eye on her 15 month old son. Occasionally, throughout the day, she felt a touch of loneliness as she wasn't used to being without her husband and nobody passed by the farm all day. However, she felt that the best way was to immerse herself in her work and so she got plenty done, getting quite warm in the pleasant autumn sun. She spent some time collecting rushes in order to make candles. That would provide a good job for her to do in the evening hours. So, after making a supper from bread and milk, she put her young child in the cradle and set about preparing to make the candles. She filled a black, three-legged pan with the fat from a sheep they had killed the previous day for meat. Then she sat down by the table preparing the rushes, known as sieves. Their pithy centres would soak up the tallow now melting in the cauldron over the fire. They could then be used as lamps to light the dark nights to come.

As the light started to dim she went to stand at the door in hope of seeing her husband returning. It had been a fine day and it was finished off with a glorious sunset that highlighted a few clouds, in the otherwise clear skies, with a magical glow. However, as the sun dipped out of sight a cold breeze blew up the valley and the atmosphere seemed to change. She felt her spirits sink somewhat, as she was forced to concede that her husband wasn't going to be home that night. The thought of having to spend the night alone at their secluded farmhouse, she had to admit, made her feel rather nervous. After a last hopeful look down the valley she was just about to return inside to check on her child when something took her attention further up the valley. It was probably a clattering of stones coming from the direction of the screes where she thought she saw a movement in the gloom. For a moment she thought she had imagined it, but natural instincts from a primordial past had been spurred into action and she immediately became more alert. Then, with an unwanted anticipation, as she peered into the dark, she saw a figure stumbling along the old packhorse route from Keswick. This shadowy form then seemed to dart into the old ruins of the Nanny Horns Inn and disappeared.

Ann now felt quite frightened as she stood staring into the dark trying to see some movement and hoping that she wouldn't. Then suddenly the figure was there, not quite where she expected, approaching quickly, only a dozen yards away. She quickly backed into the house and closed the door behind her slamming the bolt home. She ran through her mind what she had seen once again, and decided that the figure had been that of an old woman. It was no night to be out in the dark alone but she prayed that the woman would carry on down the valley. Curiosity drew her to the window to peer out into the darkness and all she could see was the reflected flickering of the fire, when suddenly a face appeared at the window. Ann had hardly recovered her heartbeat when a stick sharply rapped at the door.

She froze for a minute not knowing what to do - then a woman’s voice cried out. "Can yer help me I need to git warm and rest somewhere."

Parts 2 3 4