Thursday 23 February 2023

Hergest Court and the Vaughans

 


I needed a few hours out of the house yesterday, so with Keith settled, I set off to get paint for the guest bedroom (pale yellow) and then went on to Kington, as I wanted to see the church there.  A post about St Mary's will follow.  Inside the church was an alabaster memorial to Thomas and Ellen Vaughan, dating to the late 1600s.  Their home, above and below, is a farmstead now, and dates to the 15th C.  I have to say, beautiful snowdrops or not, I always get a bad feeling when I drive past this place.  There's another, a Priory, near Goodrich Castle, which has the same effect.  I used to drive past an abandoned cottage in a damp dingle a couple of miles from where we used to live.  It gave me the heeby-jeebies, especially at night - so much so I refused to go to Brechfa after dark using that route.  Many years on, when walking past I decided to take myself by the scruff of the neck and go and look inside.  THAT was a mistake, as there was a truly horrible atmosphere, threatening and "black" is the best way of describing it, and believe me, I was GONE.  So, I rather tend to listen to my gut feelings on places, even from a field or so distant!  Lift your eyebrows all you want, but I was born with this - I'll call it "feyness" and it works in a number of different ways.



HERE is a link to a good photo of the church and the Court, and more info for you.  Worth looking at.


Ellen the Terrible was so called because a killing which she perpetrated.  The following extract from The Folklore of Radnorshire explains:  

"During the unguarded moments of a festive carousel, two cousins-german (first cousins), namely, John Hir, or John the Tall, son of Philip Fychan, and David Fychan, quarrelled about the extent of their matrimonial inheritance, as parcelled out of the law of gavilkind (the custom of dividing a dead man's property equally among his sons), and fought with swords, in which combat, the latter was run through the body, and died on the spot.  His death, however, did not pass unrevenged, for the sister of the slain, named Ellen Cethin, who resided at Hergest Croft, in the county of Herefordshire ,a woman of masculine strength, and intrepid spirit, hearing of the disastrous issue of this family dispute, and of the murder of her brother, repaired to the adjoining parish of Llanddewi (Ystradenni) on the day in which is had previously been fixed to hold a trial of archery.  Disguising herself in men's clothes, she challenged the best archer in the field.  This challenge was no sooner known than accepted by John Hir, who, entitled to the first shot, fixed his arrow in the centre of the target.  Exulting in his success, and confident of the victory, he was followed by Ellen Cethin, whom, instead of pointing the head of the arrow in a line with the target, directed its flight against the body of her cousin-german John Hir, which is pierced, and went through his heart.  "  This apparently took place in 1430.


I loved reading this as apparently "a frequent visitor at the Court was Lewys Glyn Cothi, one of the greatest Welsh poets of the time.  When Thomas died fighting in the Yorkist cause in1469, Lewys wrote a funeral elegy or marwnad which evoked his patron's fighting white-cuirassed like King Arthur at Camlan."  Now, followers of my blog and the history of Ynyswen, our old home, will know that Lewys Glyn Cothi was also a frequent visitor there.  Gosh, to have been a bi-lingual fly on the wall . . .

Thomas's body was returned for internment within the church of St Mary at Kington, close to his home.  However, it was not long afterwards that apparently his spirit had not gone quietly to the grave.  Now, we have a Kilvert link, and The Folklore of Radnorshire repeats what Kilvert's molecatcher told him:

"It was believed that the crimes he had committed would not let his spirit rest, for his ghost haunted the wood, and terrified innumerable people; it used to take special delight in waylaying women riding home from market at dusk, leaping up on their horses and sitting behind them.  At last strong measures were taken to defeat the ghost.  Twelve or thirteen ancient parsons assembled in the court of Hergest, and drew a circle, inside which they all stood with books and lighted candles, praying.  The ghost was very resolute, and came among the parsons roaring like a bull.  'Why so fierce, Mr Vaughan?', asked one of the parsons mildly. 'Fierce I was a man, fiercer still as a devil', roared Vaughan, and all the candles were blown out except one, held by a very small, weak parson (also, says legend, named Vaughan).  He hid the candle in his boot, and so kept it alight, all the time praying hard until at length the violent spirit was quelled. 'and brought down so small and humble that they shut him up in a snuff box.'    The ghost made one humble petition - 'Do not bury me beneath water.' But the parson immediately had him enclosed in a stone box, and buried him under the bed of the brook, and Hergest thenceforth was at peace."

. . . and if that sounds at all familiar, it's because it was used at Disserth church, almost word for word, HERE'S my post about it from just over a year ago!


I presume the dog may well have been damaged during the Reformation, or perhaps when moving the tomb, but apparently the Hergest Black Dog (or the Black Dog of Hergest, which sounds better) was one of the manifestations of Black Vaughan and also had other connections with the family name  . . .

    Anyway, there will be some more posts from this outing - St Mary's Church, and a little gem of a church nearby at Huntingdon.  

    I marched myself round the lake in Llandod this morning when I went there to do some shopping, and cheered myself up with the purchase of two fruit trees from Tesco (£7 each or 2 for £12) - I got a Cox apple and a Victoria plum, they were very standard choices.  Those now have their roots in water and tomorrow I will plant them.  I also bought a Tesco boxed "Perfect for Pots" collection which has a Dahlia, some Freesias, Gladioli, and seeds for Cosmos, Calendula and Cornflowers.  Not bad value.  I have two biggish pots I've emptied and will plant them up with these tomorrow.  I have some Dahlias I had planted last year so will even up the 2nd tub with a clump of those tubers.

    Keith has gotten over our early start and bad night's sleep on Monday and is a bit more sprightly again.  We have to make sure that the patches are replaced in good time, as we forgot the other night and it was like someone had pulled the plug out!

16 comments:

  1. The house does have a forlorn quality, perhaps because it's so stark even with the little flowers going down the hill beside it. Was there any info on what happened to Ellen Cethin? I wonder why she got called terrible but not John Hir! It sounds like you had a good outting.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Nothing to soften it in the landscape, as it stands on higher ground. Ellen died some years after her husband, and the last mention of her is in 1474 when she "obtained an indulgence for those who would pray for her husband's soul." She was living at Nash, near Presteigne then. I believe her wrath must have been terrible following her brother's death and she sounds a pretty tough cookie!

      Delete
  2. What an interesting history. I don't blame you at all about the heebee jeebees, I think we all get them in some situations, and the best thing is to remove our selves immediately.

    God bless.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Well - that sense is something we all have - we can walk into a house (to view it, say) and it will either feel welcoming or not. We can walk into a room and sense there has just been an argument. I am just a bit more finely tuned.

      Delete
  3. ahh that brings back memories The Vaughns and the stories told when I went to school at Lady Hawkins in Kington. Something about a fly trapped in a match box that was really a spirit of a person.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I knew it would be familiar to you. Yes, apparently he was prayed down until he was a moth, and then put in the match box. At Disserth, the angry spirit became a fly and the same thing happened.

      Delete
  4. I will never raise my eyebrows. You did well to trust your gut and get the heck out of there. Without going into great detail, I think we have, in recent centuries, cut ourselves off from our inbuilt natural defences. There's a lot to be said for gut feelings and instincts. Deb in Wales

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. With so many folk scarcely going outside the home now they are Work from Home, your natural instincts - and being in touch with the natural world - are lost. I always listen to my gut feeling.

      Delete
  5. What a forlorn looking house, but the alabaster tomb suggests riches and beauty. There is an old and very handsome but now boarded-up house on the edge of Petworth that I drive past on my way to work which always gives me a cold feeling. Most recently it was a (members only) pub but long before that it was where the hangings took place. I mowed the garden grass closest to the house yesterday afternoon and treated myself to a Lonicera fragrantissima for a new planting area in a corner of the kitchen garden where there used to be an old wooden shed which was destroyed by Storm Eunice. Throughout last year I had a big compost heap in the 6 x 4 area and now having spread most of the finished compost in the veg plot I have gorgeous earth to plant into. I will move some hellebore seedlings and split up some snowdrops and let it slowly come to life. I compost everything in my garden, including the two big sacks of grass cuttings that arose yesterday. It all rots down eventually and at this time of year I enjoy nothing more than playing with my compost heaps - I liken it to making Christmas pudding on the grandest scale! The winter scents, the bird song, the bare branches through a pearlescent sky all make me so happy. Trousers are now finished and will be worn to the Horticultural Society Quiz night on Saturday, I have cast on for a second pair of socks with the Exmoor yarn and I’m making steady progress stitching the background of the Leaves and Berries cushion. The three colours I’m using for the socks are Blooth (blossom), Hemel (wooded valley) and Mizzle (no translation needed!). I’m keeping myself busy doing nice things because otherwise I am overwhelmed by S (who has not been at all well this week) and our son and his broken foot. I need a holiday! Sarah x

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You can clearly pick up on the unhappy history of that house. The Skirrid Mountain Inn where Keith and I had lunch last year, was where they hung folk too . . . I have some compost I need to move about a bit and some bags of a friend's muck heap from last year too. My compost making is not the least scientific - it's just make a pile and add to it! So , not the best compost.

      Talking about sky I've just gone to take some photos of the clouds across the mynydd -threatening and splendid at the same time.

      Love the names of the Exmoor yarns. I wonder, do they have a Dimpsey too? Many years since I knitted socks and I will have to learn all over again. (Just looked, and it's Dimity instead of the Dimpsey used down on Dartmoor. Love the Bell Heather too.

      Sorry that S has had a bad week and hope your son is up to hobbling round now, at least. Hope you can get a break. Keith has been doing steps up the bottom step and down to build up his strength.

      Not heard of a winter flowering Honeysuckle before - sounds lovely.

      Delete
  6. I was fascinated by your description of your 'feyness' - some people are definitely more aware of atmospheric changes, presence of good or evil aren't they?
    Lovely pics as always.
    Alison in Wales x

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. In my case it runs to various "talents". Some folk chose not to believe what I have experienced, but believe me I am sceptical until these things happen to ME! I've never seen a ghost, but I've certainly experienced their presence, ditto poltergeists in our old home, and other things which seem inexplicable to some folk.

      Delete
  7. My husband and I looked at a centuries old house in Nova Scotia. I am "fey" but he is an analytical scientist and doesn't seem to pick up on anything. I was only in it 5 minutes and I couldn't bear it and quickly rushed out. To my surprise my husband came out shortly after looking quite shaken and said he had the most awful feeling of dread in the house.

    ReplyDelete
  8. So he certainly verified what you felt. Some places are not . . . good to be in. Fortunately this house was welcoming from the start. I was frightened to be on my own at night in our old house.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Did I read somewhere you were thinking of giving up blogging. Please don't your fascination with all things historical is so interesting and it keeps you on your feet alert. As for feyness, I have had it a couple of times when viewing houses and remember the stairs going to the attic in your old house.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I did a middle-of-the-night post when I was feeling very jaded and what's the point-ish. I need to get out or I get very low in spirits. Ah yes, the stairs at Ynyswen - that was the site of the "atmosphere" for a number of years until Keith dismantled the doorway and the floorboards which were covering the stairs. Then it began to move about as a "free spirit"!!

      Delete