Clan of Tubal Cain

May the faith and friendship that we share in spirit round our fireside never fail this circle of companionship, or any other in the world this coming season, however cold and bitter it may be elsewhere, may we always welcome one another in our hearts and homes with warmth enough to overcome the very worst of Winter. Now let us see if we have sufficient strength for our feet to follow the returning solar rays around the symbol by which we represent them.

Candlemas 2010 was in many ways nothing more than a series of ‘firsts’ for me.

I had already been welcomed into the hearth of The Clan, before we made our way around 9 pm to the chosen place for the Candlemas rite. 

This was my first meeting with The Clan in the flesh and my first time to Stanton Moor where our rite was to take place. 

The brightest full moon was high in the starlit sky, and so bright in fact that there was little need for torches. 

It was cold, painfully so at times, and upon the ground a hard frost formed and began to sparkle in the light of the full moon. 

I had never known a night quite like this one, despite years of Wiccan ritual this night seemed real, this was what it was all about, and I couldn’t help but wonder what I had been doing all these years. 

I felt like I was seeing the night sky in many ways for the first time, with all the wonder of a child, excited, nervous and every step was filled with a certain trepidation and anticipation.

After a good 10 minutes walk we made our way up a small incline to be met by the Nine Ladies stone circle. 

Young Birch trees reflected the light of the full moon, guarding and watching over the ancient stones as they danced by starlight to the music of an unseen piper. 

I fell in love with this place instantly and was admittedly a little disappointed that this was not the appointed place for the night’s work.

Being led on by the occasional beat of a drum to help guide us through the night to the chosen place we walked on until we arrived. 

Only a couple of the group knew of the place, and as we slowly stepped around a small corner I think it’s safe to say no one was disappointed when we beheld the working site of choice. 

Surrounded by Birch trees this little known sacred site stood unassuming amongst heather and gorse, and I couldn’t help but think there was no where more fitting for celebrating the return of life and The Goddess to the cold and frozen Earth.

Having already discussed the rite, who would do what, and when and so on, we decided to forget that to some extent and in true Cochranian spirit we would instead ‘wing it’ and go with the flow.  Another first for me, a former Wiccan ritualist used to script and procedure.

“You’re gonna tread the mill tonight boy” announced a quarterman, and I giggled nervously, suddenly worried I might fall or I might trip over the person behind me or in front of me and ruin everything, but as it happens my clumsy half decided to stay home that night and as we started to pace round the fire, chanting I began to feel the shift. 

It seemed that with my entire being, I needed to go faster, wanted to go faster, had to go faster. Pretty soon I couldn’t tell if I was pacing the round or walking a straight line, if I was pacing round the fire or it was orbiting me.

The Bell rang and despite my wanting to keep going we moved in single file to the stone altar where the Lady waited to speak, and spoke she did. 

It was the first time I had ever been in a circle where the Lady spoke and it pierced to the core, like the icy cold her voice cut like a knife.  If I had let myself go I think I would have dropped to my knees but instead all I could do was bow my head as the lady said;

“I am the pause between heartbeats and the silence between breaths…”

I could have cried, but I let her words heal and wash over me with the light of the full moon and the very essence of renewal.

We finished with food which invigorated, and fire which warmed, and I felt a little spaced out and spent, somewhat drained and even sad that the night was over when I felt there was so much more I wanted to see, so much more I wanted to know. 

After packing up we headed back to the warmth.

Upon reflection, the night may not have offered me miraculous experiences of unknown Gods, long dead ancestors or inescapable entranced visions of the past or future, which maybe a tiny part of me was perhaps expecting. 

But what it did give was the opportunity to see my faith and my work through new eyes, and like a baby taking his first breath, or toddler taking his first steps into the world, I drove home the following day knowing I too had been part of something I will never forget, and had taken my first steps towards the mysteries. 

The magic of the night had done no more and no less than it needed.

Jay
(Apprentice of Tubal Cain)

References:

(1) Seasonal occult rituals: (page 70) W.G. Gray (1970) Helios Books: Cheltenham.

(2) Stanton Moor: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stanton_Moor

(3) Nine Ladies Stone Circle: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nine_Ladies

(4) English Heritage: http://www.english-heritage.org.uk/server/show/nav.11585

It brings me tremendous pleasure to introduce The Inner Library, a new website created by my good friends, Josephine and Pete McCarthy, genuine seer’s, seasoned occultists and experienced practitioners of the arte magical.

F.F.F.

Stoatfire

http://theinnerlibrary.weebly.com/ 

The Inner Library website holds free texts of the magical writings, rituals and visions of Josephine and Pete McCarthy. The samples of work presented span 20 years of magical work, which enables the reader to see the paths of developments, contacts made,mistakes made and lessons learned.

In this deep reflective time we find ourselves still in the process of assimilating our recent visit to Los Angeles to finally meet Ann and Dave Finnin, Maid and Magister of The American Clan of Tubal Cain, and their many friends including Peter Paddon (1) Ed Fitch (2), and Carroll “Poke” Runyon (3) among others.

During our stay we were welcomed as family and invited to work alongside Clan of Tubal Cain, Roebuck and Caer Glas brethren, participating fully in their full Moon and seasonal rites. We’ve only been back in the U.K. a few short weeks, and again find ourselves immersed in our working mundane lives and all the usual chaos of the silly season. Our dreams however gently pull us several thousand miles back across the Atlantic and the great sprawling continent of North America to the Pacific coast, where the winter is warmer than our English summer. Memories of treading the mill under a recumbent Orion, deep in the mountains under a full silver moon accompanied by cricket and coyote call, will remain with us forever.

As we slowly come to Earth under our familiar northern skies, the song “Kings and Queens” by the band Thirty seconds to mars assails the memory, and has become an anthem to recent experience. In the video that accompanies the song, one can clearly see the mountains to the East of L.A. ablaze (4).

Without doubt these fires which raged from the end of summer and still smouldered underground during our visit have proved an utter devastation, decimating many hundred square miles of forest and hillside. We drove up there to see the extent of the damage and were shocked to find ourselves in an apocalyptic landscape devoid of any signs or sounds of life, no bird song, no insects, nothing. It will take many years for the land to recover and regenerate, but the natural cycle of the region inspires hope and patience, as the fertile earth ignites and smoulders to bleak wasteland, only to bloom and blossom once again.

In a sense we found echoes of this in W.G. Gray’s Rite of Winter: (5)

“burn into beauty…become a beacon of deliverance from darkness, and finally a fertilising ash to aid arising growth in future fields”

We related to our surroundings in a very personal sense, for our past year has been challenging yet most rewarding, and we have found the inspiring light of kinship and deep friendship with our brothers and sisters in America. We have shared so much and have made plans to take the legacy of Robert Cochrane forward together, into the 21st century.

“Thanks be for warmth and close companionship with kindred souls.” (Extract from W.G. Gray’s Rite of Winter) (5)

Ann and Dave were gracious enough to allow us to read and take notes from their extensive correspondence with the late Magister Evan John Jones, and the Qabalistic Magician Bill Gray (circa 1980 onwards). This proved to be an informative and deeply illuminating experience, validating Ann and Dave’s past, present and future tenure of office within the Clan lineage.

Of course, our visit to California was not all work; we took a leisurely stroll along Venice beach,sampling its rich cultural diversity and an idyllic afternoon meandering down the Malibu shoreline, catching tantalising glimpses of a killer whale and a jogger who bore a remarkable resemblance to Brad Pitt (we did inquire but he declined initiation into the Clan).

Being very interested in the history of the Native American Nations we visited Santa Barbara, said to be The Queen of missions and were amazed to see the fusion of indigenous beliefs and Roman Catholicism, displayed in the Native artwork that graced the ornate and beautiful mission chapel. History shows that the Chumash tribe’s medicine man was a strong early convert and directed his people in the construction of the mission, no doubt retaining respect to the old ways, a heartening thing to see, especially for those like us who perpetuate our own culture’s indigenous pre Christian beliefs.

 
In 2010 we will extend the same hospitality to our American kin when they yet again set foot upon Old Blighty and trust that we will be able to fully reciprocate, making their experience here, as informative and enjoyable as they made our stay in California.

 
In closing, may we wish everyone a joyful, peaceful Yule, and all good things to come in the year ahead.

Carol Stuart Jones
Maid of Tubal Cain

References:

(1) Peter Paddon, author and witch, produces the well known podcast for Modern Cunning Folk, covering Witchcraft, Magick and the Elder Faith and is the genius behind Pendraig Publishing. http://www.pendraigpublishing.com/blog/

(2) Ed Fitch is an occult author and a Wiccan High Priest of the Gardnerian tradition, and was a leading figure in the rise of contemporary Wicca and Neo-Paganism in America http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ed_Fitch

(3) Carroll “Poke” Runyon describes himself as a “Gentleman of the Old School” which he defines as: “One who recites classical poetry to heartless beauties while wrestling alligators.” He is the founder of The Ordo Templi Astartes (O.T.A.), which is now America’s oldest continually operating Ritual magick Lodge http://www.templeofastarte.com/

(4) Kings and Queens by Thirty seconds to mars: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9VhZDiG7ye0

(5) Seasonal occult rituals: The Rite of Winter (extract) W.G. Gray (1970) Helios Books: Cheltenham.

(6) Clan of Tubal Cain in America: http://ancientkelticchurch.org/CTubalCain/

The function of stone as a condenser and conveyor of consciousness is really the secret component of the old stone Circles. Each stone became “charged” for some special reason by a particular person, people, or purpose. It had its “Key-note”, and all subsequent variations on that theme added over the course of time.

                                                                                              William Gordon Gray

Above and to the west of Birchover village, lies a small wood which holds a great treasure.

Doll Tor stone circle and its adjoining cairn were constructed in the Bronze Age (approx 1800BC) and its six stones, sit quietly amongst the grass and bracken, within close proximity and very much overshadowed by the Nine ladies of Stanton Moor and the mysterious Andle Stone.

The site was originally excavated by Thomas Bateman in 1852 who discovered bucket urns and small cups. J.P. Heathcote excavated again between 1931 and 1933, during which 3 of the stones were damaged and required cement repairs (good old fashioned kill or cure archaeology!).

On a positive note, Heathcotes team did uncover evidence of five cremations and a rectangular stone pit in the cairn, which included more cups and remains of a clearly important Female.

Doll Tor is currently protected and maintained by the Peak National Park Authority and English Heritage, who carefully restored the site following a deliberate attempt by vandals to rebuild the site according to their own aesthetic designs during Spring Equinox of 1993.

English heritage utilised Heathcotes 1930 drawings to return the stones to their original positions and also discovered new and important archaeological deposits during the restoration work.

Following in the spirit of the late W G Gray, the Clan of Tubal Cain continue to visit these ancient and enigmatic stone constructs in our own localities, attempting to commune and negotiate with the spirits that preside over these sacred sites.

Our Clan also make a habit of taking bin bags on our excursions, in order to remove the residue of visitors who care far less for our beautiful landscape than we do. With this in mind, we would like to take this opportunity to ask other genuine practitioners to adopt similar practices, as these ancient sites are far too precious to allow the profane to treat them like refuse tips

Let’s all work together to protect our heritage for future generations.

References:

(1) Doll Tor is located here: SK238628 (Latitude: 53.161797N Longitude: 1.645493W)

(2) The Rollright Ritual (page 16) William Gordon Gray (1975) Helios Books: Cheltenham: England

Black spirits and white, red spirits and grey,

Mingle, mingle, mingle, you that mingle may!

Titty, Tiffin,

Keep it stiff in;

Firedrake, Puckey,

Make it lucky;

Liard, Robin,

You must bob in.

Round, around, around, about, about!

All ill come running in, all good keep out!

Thomas Middleton, British Playwright (1580-1627)

The above passage conjures a certain mood, the calling of the winds on a dark autumnal night, the captivating glimpses of dancing firedrakes, the scent and sensation of grey mist and mouldering earth.

Originally penned as a song for inclusion in “the Scottish play” this is something modern practitioners could adapt for their own rites.

Blessings from the Clan of Tubal Cain this All Hallows Eve.

F/F/F

Carol Stuart Jones

Maid of Tubal Cain

References:

(1) The works of Thomas Middleton (1840) Edward Lumley: Chancery Lane: London

“A lake that with prophetic noise doth roar;

Where beasts can ne’er be made to venture o’er—

By hounds, or men, or fleeter death pursued,

They’ll not plunge in, but shun the hated flood.”

In a small hollow at the summit of Morridge Hill (1,600 ft) lies Black Mere, a 40 foot heart shaped pool of dark water, reputedly bottomless and so malign that animals refuse to drink there and birds will not fly across it.

Once again fully embracing the spirit of arcane exploration, the Clan of Tubal Cain braved fierce winds and plummeting temperatures in an effort to commune with the spirits of this ancient land. Bleak but beautiful was the order of the day as we headed out under turbulent skies towards the Staffordshire border.

We dropped into the nearby Drovers Inn (formerly Blake Mere House) which takes its name from the Mermaid that frequents Black Mere, a creature that reputably combs her locks each midnight, and lures unfortunate travellers to a watery grave.

While sampling the Inn’s hospitality (highly recommended) we gazed upon the Mermaids portrait above the fireplace and studied the wall mounted plaque which reveals much about the local legends:

She calls on you to greet her

Combing her dripping crown,

And if you go to greet her,

She ups and drags you down…

A medieval legend tells the story of Joshua Linnet, a self styled Witch finder whose persecution of a beautiful young woman led to her being thrown into Black Mere.

As she descended into the murky depths, she uttered a curse so terrible, that three days later, Joshua’s body was found dead, face down in the water with deep talon scars across his face.

It is said that if a young Man should witness the Mermaid of Black Mere at Midnight on the Eve of Easter, then he shall be granted riches for one year, but memory of her beauty will eventually summon him to the depths of the pool.

In 1679, Black Mere’s grim reputation gained momentum when Andrew Simpson robbed and murdered a local weaver and threw her lifeless body into the pool. Her body was subsequently retrieved and Mr Simpson honoured his appointment with the hangman of Gun Hill (Staffordshire).

Locals still firmly believe that Black Mere is cursed, its level never changing in drought, and its black surface never freezing, even in the harshest winter.

Our experience of the sombre pool at Black Mere was intense and oddly inspirational and we are certainly planning to revisit this challenging site before too long. Without doubt, the legends of Black Mere of Morridge reach back into antiquity, tapping into the folk memory of ancient faiths and grim ritual observance.

References:

(1)   Llewellyn Jewitt (editor), Reliquary, Quarterly Journal and Review; Illustrative of the Habits, Customs, and Pursuits, of our Forefathers. Vol. III. 1862-3., John Russell Smith, London, 1863.

(2)   Black Mere can be found here: SK 030613

(3)   Gun Hill can be found here: SJ 97061

                                   We stand between the light and shade

                                   Upon the middle path we made

                                   Where day and night divide,

                                   As we have lived and worked and prayed,

                                  We now expect to be repaid

                                  With neither shame nor pride.

                                 How shall we find our true fulfilment ?

                                Fire and water bring to birth

                               With air, the outcome of this earth

                               For this we know without a doubt,

                              Our seed goes in, and fruits come out.

                              So bless the earth on which we stand

                              For harvests of the sea and land

                                                                                William G Gray

The Clan of Tubal Cain and Tubals Forge wish you all the brightest and darkest blessings for your Autumn Equinox observances.

 F/F/F

Magister Blackthorn

Reference:

(1) Seasonal Occult Rituals (Page 57) by William G. Gray: (1970) Helios Books: Toddington: Cheltenham: Glos.

“Though the stag-man is the most important of the horned figures of the Palaeolithic period, there are many smaller drawings of masked and horned men on small objects of bone and horn. These figures are usually represented with the horns of a goat or chamois, and are dancing singly or in groups. The only Palaeolithic representation of a human figure found in England is the well-known engraving on bone of a man masked with a horse’s head, which was discovered in the Pinhole Cave, Derbyshire”.

                                                                            God of the Witches: Margaret Murray

A few Moon’s ago while in deepest darkest Norfolk, the Clan of Tubal Cain were introduced to the ever so humble but mega talented Chris Goodwin. Often found burning the midnight oil in his art studio, Chris focuses upon deeply pagan and esoteric concepts which unfold from detailed sketches into vivid paintings, sculptures and eerily enigmatic woodland installations. Chris is currently preparing new material for an exhibition in Norwich and is available for commission work:

Contact details: Telephone: 07804 625906 or E-mail: chris.goodwin@hotmail.co.uk

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Reference: God of the Witches: (Page 7) Margaret Alice Murray: Sampson Low Publishing: London (1933)

* Copyright all images: Chris Goodwin

“There be many Places called Fairie-hills, which the Mountain People think impious and dangerous to peel or discover, by taking Earth or Wood from them; superstitiously believing the Souls of their predecessors to dwell there. And for that end (say they) a Mote or Mount was dedicate beside every Church-yard, to receive the Souls till their adjacent Bodies arise, and so become as a Fairie-hill; they using Bodies of Air when called abroad”

The Secret Commonwealth of Elves, Fauns & Fairies by Robert Kirk (1691) commentary by Andrew Lang (1893)

Some time ago we mentioned The Secret Commonwealth, penned by an Episcopalian Minister, Rev. Robert Kirk ((1641–1692)) which documented the faerie beliefs of his parishioners in Aberfoyle, Scotland. Robert Kirk, a scholar who, after attending both Edinburgh and St Andrews Universities, became Minister of Balquidder and proceeded to publish “Kirks Bible” (published 1684) which comprised of 50 metric psalms in Gaelic. Kirk was also the Seventh Son of a Seventh Son and thus reputed to have powers of healing and the Second Sight.

In 1685 he succeeded his father as parish Minister in Aberfoyle, where he took regular walks on Doon Hill and its opposite hill, the Fairy Knowe, in full awareness of their reputations as dwellings for the good folk. On 14^th May 1692, locals discovered the body of Robert Kirk on Doon Hill and immediately suspected that Kirk had been abducted by the Faerie folk, the corpse being nothing more than a “doppelganger”.

This belief strengthened when shortly after the funeral, a close relative was confronted by the shade of Kirk who revealed that he had indeed been taken by the inhabitants of the hill and gave precise instruction for the means in which he may be rescued. Story tells that the shocked relative failed to comply and Robert Kirk remains captive in the otherworld to this very day.

Michael Ferns is a dynamic young film director whose latest offering, “KIRK”, is based upon the story of the Minister and his experiences between the worlds of Faerie and mortals. We recently wrote to Michael and he kindly provided this synopsis and some promotional images from the film:

“KIRK” is loosely based upon the true story of the Reverend Robert Kirk of Aberfoyle, a scholar and minister of religion, who believed in the Secret Commonwealth of Elves and Faeries. The film shows how passionately he wanted his wife to also believe, and the drastic action he took to fulfil this mission. Set in the 17th Century, and filmed in the beautiful locations of Loch Lomond, Ardyll Woods Cashel Forest Rowardennan, and Culross conservation village in Fife. This romantic and mystical tale will please audiences of all ages.

There is an excellent trailer for the film on YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CfpnLXkAsiE

Further information about Michael’s past, current and future cinematic work can be found here: www.michaelfernsfilms.com

An online version of The Secret Commonwealth of Elves, Fauns & Fairies can be found here:  http://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/celt/sce/

“Tis now, replied the village belle, St. Mark’s mysterious eve, And all that old traditions tell I tremblingly believe;

How, when the midnight signal tolls, along the churchyard green, A mournful train of sentenced souls, in winding-sheets are seen.

The ghosts of all, whom death shall doom within the coming year, In pale procession walk the gloom, amid the silence drear.”

                                                          The Vigil of St. Mark by James Montgomery

Recently, we paid a visit to St Anne’s Church in Baslow, seduced by its folklore concerning the Church Porch Vigil and also the local legends of its Cunning Man, William Cundy (Circa 1800). Cundy’s practice was well known and respected by folk in Derbyshire and one writer described him as “Esteemed as having knowledge of medicine and herbal healing, superior to that of the local general practitioner”.  

 He employed the use of charms and potions which were meticulously formulated from local herbs and resources, all directed by rigorous consultation of his astrological charts. Families and farmers relied upon his prophetic and healing powers, while jilted partners sought his love philtres to recapture the hearts of the estranged. Perhaps one of the reasons that William Cundy was held in such esteem is that he was a know participant in the St Marks Eve Ritual of “Porch Watch” and therefore would hold occult knowledge regarding those who would sicken and die in the year ahead.

The Rev Geo. S. Tyack described the Rite thus: The weird rites of S. Mark’s Eve (April 24th) are known to most people. On this night the wraiths of those who are to die during the following twelve months pass in grim and ghostly procession into the church; and he who has the courage to stand in the churchyard, at some spot commanding a view of the porch, from eleven that night until one o clock the next morning, for three successive years, shall on the third occasion see the prophetic vision”.

William Cundy was in an enviable position, for in Derbyshire Lore, the vigil extends itself to All Hallows Eve, which is the night he chose to initiate himself within the unseen but profoundly felt lineage of the Church Porch watch.Added to this, unique aspects of the Baslow Rite would enable Cundy to not only witness those who would die but also those who would recover from illness, as the doomed shades remained in the Church while survivors would leave again after a time (proportionate to the duration of their illness).

Undoubtedly, William Cundy commanded both respect and fear from the local community and this was exacerbated by new rumours that “sick people would die because he said so !” which only prompted more frequent visits from inquisitive and worried locals who wished to somehow gain favour with the Cunning Man.

Rev Geo. S. Tyack highlights another’s application of the Church Porch Vigil: “The most prosaic and practical way of regarding this weird superstition is that of a Yorkshire sexton, who in a past generation is said to have kept the vigil regularly, with a view to forecasting the years gains in grave-digging”.

To date, there is only one of our Clan who has so far undertaken (excuse the pun) the Church Porch Vigil, and their experiences were fearful, cathartic and profoundly shocking (on each of the three years). For those who wish to follow the footsteps of William Cundy and countless other Watchers, we wish you well in your journey and may the Old Gods guide you along this road and back again in safety and sanity.

I leave you now with this tale from Gervase Hollis, reproduced in full here, with kind permission from those excellent people who own the Chambers Book of Days (See References).

 TRADITIONS AND LEGENDS OF ST. MARK’S EVE

The following illustration of this superstition is found among the Hollis manuscripts, in the Lansdowne Collection.

“In the year 1631, two men (inhabitants of Burton) agreed betwixt themselves upon St. Mark’s eve at night to watch in the churchyard at Burton, to try whether or no (according to the ordinary belief amongst the common people) they should see the Spectra, or Phantasma of those persons which should die in that parish the year following. To this intent, having first performed the usual ceremonies and superstitions, late in the night, the moon shining then very bright, they repaired to the church porch, and there seated themselves, continuing there till near twelve of the clock. About which time (growing weary with expectation and partly with fear) they resolved to depart, but were held fast by a kind of insensible violence, not being able to move a foot.

About midnight, upon a sudden (as if the moon had been eclipsed), they were environed with a black darkness; immediately after, a kind of light, as if it had been a resultancy from torches. Then appears, coming towards the church porch, the minister of the place, with a book in his hand, and after him one in a winding-sheet, whom they both knew to resemble one of their neighbours. The church doors immediately fly open, and through pass the apparitions, and then the doors clap to again. Then they seem to hear a muttering, as if it were the burial service, with a rattling of bones and noise of earth, as in the filling up of a grave. Suddenly a still silence, and immediately after the apparition of the curate again, with another of their neighbours following in a winding-sheet, and so a third, fourth, and fifth, every one attended with the same circumstances as the first.

These all having passed away, there ensued a serenity of the sky, the moon shining bright, as at the first; they themselves being restored to their former liberty to walk away, which they did sufficiently affrighted. The next day they kept within doors, and met not together, being both of them exceedingly ill, by reason of the affrightment which had terrified them the night before. Then they conferred their notes, and both of them could very well remember the circumstances of every passage.

Three of the apparitions they well knew to resemble three of their neighbours; but the fourth (which seemed an infant), and the fifth (like an old man), they could not conceive any resemblance of. After this they confidently reported to every one what they had done and seen; and in order designed to death those three of their neighbours, which came to pass accordingly. Shortly after their deaths, a woman in the town was delivered of a child, which died likewise, so that now there wanted but one (the old man), to accomplish their predictions, which likewise came to pass after this manner.

In that winter, about mid-January, began a sharp and long frost, during the continuance of which some of Sir John Munson’s friends in Cheshire, having some occasion of intercourse with him, despatched away a foot messenger (an ancient man), with letters to him. This man, tramling this bitter weather over the mountains in Derbyshire, was nearly perished with cold, yet at last he arrived at Burton with his letters, where within a day or two he died. And these men, as soon as ever they see him, said peremptorily that he was the man whose apparition they see, and that doubtless he would die before he returned, which accordingly he did”.

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References:

(1)  Supernatural Peak District:(page 112) David Clarke: Hale: London (2000)

(2)  Lore and Legend of the English Church:(page 60-63): REV Geo. S. Tyack: William Andrews & Co: London (1899)

(3)  Chambers “The Book of Days”: http://www.thebookofdays.com/index.html