Ghostly Folklore for Halloween - The Okehampton Ghost Coach
Lady Howard in her ghostly coach.
The month is October, officially the spookiest month of the year, the nights are drawing in and Halloween is approaching. It is the time for Pumpkin Spice lattes, Russet leaves and mists and mellow fruitfulness. It is also a time for ghost stories. And so, each week this month I will talk about a different ghostly folktale. I will begin this creepy journey with The Okehampton Ghost Coach.
Okehmpton is a town on the northern edge of Dartmoor, in the English county of Devon. Now Dartmoor is atmospheric place, simply dripping with strange old tales, it was also the setting of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s famous story ‘The Hound of the Baskervilles. Okehampton is a charming town and well worth a visit, nearby are the Ruins of Okehampton Castle.
The little town has an unusual ghost, that of Lady Howard, who is said to travel each night from her old family home, Fitzford House, to Okehampton castle, in a spectral coach made from the bones of her four dead husbands!
Its is a tale that has been told around winter fires in Devon for centuries. There really was a Lady Howard, she lived in the 17th century and was the daughter of John Fitz, who owned, Fitzford House, near Tavistock. He had a reputation as a bit of a bad’un. Eventually it is said he went insane and committed suicide. The Family fortune was left to his daughter Mary.
Mary managed to outlive all four of her husbands and sadly also her son. After her death she acquired a poor reputation that earned her the name ‘The Wicked Lady.’ Some what unfairly as at no time during her life was she considered wicked.
As punishment for her supposedly terrible deeds it is said that Lady Howard must nightly ride from Fitzford House to Okehampton castle, there pluck a single blade of grass from the mound and return again to Fitzford House. When all the grass is plucked from the mound her punishment will be over.
Those unlucky few who have seen her ghostly coach when walking the roads around Okehampton on dark evenings, report the sound of rattling bones as it approaches, when the coach finally appear it is pulled by four headless horses and driven by a headless rider. Each corner of the coach is adorned with the skull of one of her husbands, it is just possible to see the pale, eyeless face of Lady Howard peering from out the window. Close by the coach runs a black dog with flaming eyes.
There are an unusual amount of hauntings in the counties of Devon and neighbouring Cornwall. Various reasons have been given for this, I list some below:
The rock beneath these counties is of a kind that can trap spiritual energies which become active under the right conditions, i.e. wet and stormy.
Smuggling was rife in these areas and the scary stories were created by criminal gangs to keep people off the roads at night-so they could move their contraband undisturbed.
The unusually strong scrumpy cider brewed in this part of the country.
So there we have the tale of Lady Howard and her phantom coach. The story was also immortalised in a song collected by Reverand Sabine Baring-Gould in 1891, given below. I also provide a link to the song as performed by the band ‘Secret Sky.’
My ladye hath a sable coach,
And horses two and four;
My ladye hath a black blood-hound
That runneth on before.
My ladye’s coach hath nodding plumes,
The driver hath no head;
My ladye is an ashen white,
As one that long is dead.
“Now pray step in!” my ladye saith,
“Now pray step in and ride.”
I thank thee, I had rather walk
Than gather to thy side.
The wheels go round without a sound,
Or tramp or turn of wheels;
As cloud at night, in pale moonlight,
Along the carriage steals.
“Now pray step in!” my ladye saith,
“Now prithee come to me.”
She takes the baby from the crib,
She sits it on her knee.
“Now pray step in!” my ladye saith,
“Now pray step in and ride.”
Then deadly pale, in waving veil,
She takes to her the bride.
“Now pray step in!” my ladye saith,
“There’s room I wot for you.”
She wav’d her hand, the coach did stand,
The Squire within she drew.
“Now pray step in!” my ladye saith,
“Why shouldst thou trudge afoot?”
She took the gaffer in by her,
His crutches in the boot.
I’d rather walk a hundred miles,
And run by night and day,
Than have that carriage halt for me
And hear my ladye say-
“Now pray step in, and make no din,
Step in with me to ride ;
There’s room, I trow, by me for you,
And all the world beside.”
