The Ghosts of Oxford Street

Less dark and atmospheric, more just barmy, in this early nineties Channel 4 classic, Malcolm McLaren tours us around London. For purists, it is worth noting some of the ghosts in the title are metaphorical and symbolic, but there are some spooky stories in there, plus performances from Shane MacGowan, the Happy Mondays and Sinead O'Connor. What's not to like?

Check out The Ghosts of Oxford Street

The Duchal Well

Historical Note :
Sightings of "black wild cats" around Inverclyde have become more widespread in the last ten years, but there are recorded sightings and anecdotal evidence of unusual beasts pre-dating WWII.

The ruins of Duchal Castle and the Duchal blackwater can be found on the outskirts of Kilmacolm.
Definetly worth a winter walk...though take care.

The Signal-Man

Charles Dickens is of course responsible for everyone's favourite Christmas Ghost Story,  "A Christmas Carol". His chilling tale "The Signal-Man" is believed by many to be the greatest short story ever written, if slightly less festive...

"Halloa! Below there!"

When he heard a voice thus calling to him, he was standing at the door of his box, with a flag in his hand, furled round its short pole. One would have thought, considering the nature of the ground, that he could not have doubted from what quarter the voice came; but instead of looking up to where I stood on the top of the steep cutting nearly over his head, he turned himself about, and looked down the Line. There was something remarkable in his manner of doing so, though I could not have said for my life what. But I know it was remarkable enough to attract my notice, even though his figure was foreshortened and shadowed, down in the deep trench, and mine was high above him, so steeped in the glow of an angry sunset, that I had shaded my eyes with my hand before I saw him at all.

"Halloa! Below!"

From looking down the Line, he turned himself about again, and, raising his eyes, saw my figure high above him.

"Is there any path by which I can come down and speak to you?"

He looked up at me without replying, and I looked down at him without pressing him too soon with a repetition of my idle question. Just then there came a vague vibration in the earth and air, quickly changing into a violent pulsation, and an oncoming rush that caused me to start back, as though it had force to draw me down. When such vapour as rose to my height from this rapid train had passed me, and was skimming away over the landscape, I looked down again, and saw him refurling the flag he had shown while the train went by.

I repeated my inquiry. After a pause, during which he seemed to regard me with fixed attention, he motioned with his rolled-up flag towards a point on my level, some two or three hundred yards distant. I called down to him, "All right!" and made for that point. There, by dint of looking closely about me, I found a rough zigzag descending path notched out, which I followed.

The cutting was extremely deep, and unusually precipitate. It was made through a clammy stone, that became oozier and wetter as I went down. For these reasons, I found the way long enough to give me time to recall a singular air of reluctance or compulsion with which he had pointed out the path.


continue reading...

BBC adapted The Signal-Man as part of a Ghost Story For Christmas. Tremendously atmospheric...

Jolasveinar

A tale of unease set at Christmas during the second world war...




Historical Note
Greenock was the embarkation point for some of the ships sent to Iceland during the "occupation".
The Jolasveinar tradition is still celbrated in Iceland...you can get really cool decorations and figurines. Check out these images.

Also, here is a wee Christmas Carol about them sung by Bjork

The Curse of Crow Mount

An ancient and mysterious portion of Greenock, Crow Mount, or as it was commonly called, The Mount, formed that part of the town stretching westwards from Bank Street to Ann Street, and running northwards from Dempster Street to Roxburgh Street. Rumour has it, that this was once the haunt of witches, who held covens there, far from the watchful eye of the townsfolk. Later still it was said that a witch was hung from one of the same trees and that as she choked she forever cursed the ground beneath her dangling feet and the forest all around. By the 1800s our town ancestors had long since abandoned the mount to the Crows. Historians remember it for its lush greenery, a stark contrast to the smoke and industry already taking hold at the rivers edge. But the story goes that from branch to root those trees hid a darker tale.

In 1513, the Lords of Greenock assembled the townsmen to march with King James against the English. On foot all the way to Northumberland, the men walked to the beat of the ancient town drum. Some say that this drum had been framed with wood from Crow Mount. Whatever the case, it is true that when disaster struck, and the Scots were crushed on the fields of Flodden, few returned to the town. But those that did, brought with them that same drum. And here it remained, a memory to the ghosts of Greenock’s fallen.

For over 300 years, the drum was kept safe by the townsfolk, seldom heard, save for the odd ceremonial occasion. One historian recalls that by the 1850’s it was gathering dust, it’s proud history all but forgotten. It was a fate shared by one lonely townsman of the day. Archibald Weir, a resident of Crow Mount had fought in Crimean War alongside Sir Shaw Stewart. Injured in the siege of Sevastopol, Weir returned home, bitter and haunted by his experiences on the battlefield. Hard on his luck, he took to petty crime – picking pockets mostly. So it was that one day in the Coffee Rooms, his eyes fell upon the old town drum. “A drum like that might fetch a pretty penny in the markets of Glasgow” thought Weir.

And so that night, he returned to take the ancient drum for himself. Climbing the hill to Crow Mount, he rushed home to hide his stolen prize, planning to fence it the next day. But an uneasy sleep awaited him. Nightmares of wars and witches awakened him.And all the time, ringing in his ears, the endless beat of a lonely drum; The Greenock Drum. On and on it went. Thump. Thump. Thump. The drum would not be silenced.

The next morning the town awoke to the news that Weir’s lifeless corpse had been found hanging from the oldest tree on Crow Mount. The drum was nowhere to be found. Was it some witches curse come back to haunt Crow Mount, the ghost of one of Floddens Fallen? Or simply a poor soul, driven mad with guilt?

Shortly after the grim discovery of Weir’s body was made, the trees of Crow Mount were cleared to make way for the Mount Church. And those same trees were used to make some of the pews. But superstitions die hard, and all refused to sit on them. So as you walk the streets these winter months, listen carefully for the beat of the Greenock Drum, and the whispered curse of Crow Mount.

Pleasant Terrors

Ghost Stories are best enjoyed in wintertime, by the fireside with friends, by candlelight with a book..the cold and the dark of the season are perfect for what are often referred to as "pleasant terrors".

So for the rest of December, Tales of the Oak will be sharing ghost stories old, new, local and international. Some written, some spoken, some traditional, some modern...hopefully something for everyone. You supply the chestnuts and mulled wine.

Where better to start, than with one from the master - M.R. James

The Mermaid

There was a merchant from Dumbarton.  It happened that the merchant and his crew left the rock, and had been at sea for a long long time when they sailed straight into a storm. The boat was wrecked, and the crew all drowned, except for the good merchant, who found himself washed ashore on an island. He wandered around for a time, looking for food and somewhere he could shelter, and he came across a little hollow by the shore. Being altogether shaken and tired from his ordeal, he lay down on the rock and fell instantly asleep. When he woke, there was a mermaid beside him, and thereafter she came to the cave everyday to sing to the merchant, and to bring him provisions. Not only food, but gold, silver and jewels."

A year passed and then one day, when the mermaid was away, a ship passed by the island. The Merchant hailed the ship, and the vessel spied him, and sent a boat ashore. And the merchant told them all about his shipwreck and the mermaid and his gold and silver and jewels. The crew of the boat explained that they were outward bound, but suggested that if the Merchant gathered together a sizeable booty, then they would come again in a year and a day to take him home. 

So a year and a day passed, and everyday the lovesick mermaid brought more food and wine and treasure to the Merchant. And at the appointed time, the ship again dropped anchor by the island. Again the mermaid was away, and again a boat came ashore. The merchant and the crew made quick despatch to get all the stores on board before the mermaid returned.

The ship set sail, but the mermaid returned to her cave, found it herried, and angrily she swam after the ship, overtook it, and demanded that her husband and her stores be returned. Now the skipper, was a canny man, so he cast off a bundle of hoops and he agreed to hand over her man and her stores only if the mermaid could count the hoops. This she did and she then repeated her demands. But the skipper cast off another set of hoops again and again and again until they reached Gourock. The Captain had a lot of hoops.

The Dumbarton merchant, set foot again on dry land at Gourock, and refused to go with the mermaid. And she pleaded with him to return to their cave where they had spent so many happy days. But he refused again, so the Mermaid gave to him the baby she had borne him, demanding that he give it a good home with all the gold and silver he had stolen from her. She then gave the merchant a book which he was instructed not to let the child see til he was full grown.

The child grew and took up residence in the old castle of Ardrossan, taking the name Michael Scott, later more commonly known as The Devil of Ardrossan. It was by the means of his mother's book that he commanded the foul thief, that imp who carried out his every dark request. And the very first command given to this devil was to rid Michael of his own father, the merchant. You could hear his screaming all the way to Ireland.

The mermaid meantime, befriended the great serpent Clutha of the Clyde, and she lives in the waters to this day. She pops her head out of the water now and then for to sing a wee song. She might even tell your fortune, depending on your luck.

Over a hundred years ago, the funeral procession of a young girl, taken long before her time, passed along the riverside on its way past the Newark castle on route to the old church. The Mermaid appeared out of the water and sang


"If she drank nettles in March
And mugwort in May
Sae many braw maidens
Wadna gang to the clay."


Have a read about more mermaids around the UK in Caught By The River's scans of the classic rural folk zine The Country Bizarre.

The Port Glasgow Mermaid also makes an appearance in our book Wee Nasties, which you can read for free online on scribd or ibooks.