Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-29742724-20160824153259





 You be new 'round these parts, b'aint yer? Well, sit 'ee down my dears, sit 'ee down. Two cups of Odstock Mead'll be sure to warm 'ee on such a night as this. 'Twas a fair old hollerin' night that Christmas Eve all them years ago. To think of it, each Christmas Eve has been the same these long years since. They say 'tis Joshua Scamp and his gypsy friends, dancing over the graves in yon' churchyard.



 You'll have passed around the S-bend, afore the hill? You'll have seen the lay-by on the bend, there where the woods are black on either side? There's foxes in they woods... 'Tis that same lay-by where the gypsies had their camp each year. It's sheltered from the wind, it's quiet, and the woods give plenty of fuel for the stoves. So they'd come in November, spend the winter. 'Twas as good a place as any for miles around.



 Well, they'd come close on twenty years; the lay-by was theirs by rights November to March. They kept theyselves to theyselves, didn't bother no one. You'd not have known they was there till you rounded the bend. One or other of them was seen in Salisbury market, buying food, but there's no harm in that. Or sometimes, if the wind was right, the smell of bacon cooking and the sound of Joshua's accordion, from beneath the hill.



 Then one day, a sheep was stolen from the market. The thief was never brought to light, but rumours told of mutton cooking on gypsy stoves. To most folks' eyes, Joshua Scamp became a sinister figure who'd steal food from a child's table. Tongues began a-waggin', plots were plotted, for the village wanted rid of the gypsy caravans.



 Lines were laid in they black woods, to trip gypsies and they chillern. 'Twas a brave stall-holder who'd refuse to serve, but the worst was saved for 'em. Names was called, but never to 'ey faces, y'understand? Always behind they backs - they proud backs... Though Joshua escaped the worst, as folks feared the tangled man they thought lurked behind that black beard, and them glitterin' eyes.



 That dreadful year, all them years ago, they moved on a month early. Locals were satisfied; they nodded they heads and said, truth was, gypsies had gone for good this time. They might have added, "and we drove 'em to 't," but that was forgotten. Instead they said as how the ghost of the stolen sheep had driven 'em out.



 'Twas with dismay the curlin' smoke was sighted that same November, under Odstock hill. Prayers were said in church, that peace would live in the village, though what was really wanted was that they gypsies would up and leave as if 'ey'd never been there. They never went near the church, and to folks, this meant they must surely worship the devil instead.



<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;"> So when that Winter Solstice the Barton child disappeared from her bed, the search party sped to the S-bend. What terrible deeds must surely have been done? They carried high their sticks and axes, and they did not pause before beating and hacking at the caravan doors...

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;min-height:13px;">

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;"> Suddenly a voice boomed out like the first thunder of a storm which has brewed for a long time; Joshua spoke. "Search our vans," he commanded, and silenced now, they did. After lifting they lanterns to every inch, with one mind and fury they swept out of the caravans. The child was not to be found there, but neither were the gypsies. They had slipped into the woods either side of the road, leaving no sign other than that they could not have gone elsewhere.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;min-height:13px;">

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;"> The woods that night were full; two tribes, them and us. The one trying to trap and round up men like sheep to a pen. The other, always ahead, always silent, avoiding their fate. As dawn broke, Joshua was sighted entering the church on t'other side of the woods, by the side door. All locals made their swoop on the church, while unseen, the other gypsies stole back to the vans, harnessed they horses, and drove away. They never returned, but must they not have spoken since of a man who saved all they necks?

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;min-height:13px;">

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;"> As the sun came up, folks were deciding what to do with the man they had cornered. The Priest would not allow bloodshed in the church, for Sanctuary was the law then. At length they got the key to the oaken doors and locked them fast, side and front. 'Twas their intention to have no Christmas service that year, but on the Eve, they relented. This time the Priest stood by while they entered and dragged Joshua out.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;min-height:13px;">

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;"> He was starved and very weak; he'd survived by drinking water from the font. This incensed them more, that an unholy man should drink holy water. He was taken to the gallows that same day and finished off without trial.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;min-height:13px;">

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;"> Where the child had been them four long days nobody knows; she was found after, safe and well in a barn. Some say 'twas a plot for ridding of they gypsies; some say she was kidnapped. But one thing was sure - she had come to no harm and remembered nothing. Some even say she was found before the hanging took place, but it went ahead anyways.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;min-height:13px;">

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;"> 'Twas that Christmas day, the day of the gallows, when the man who had turned the church key took ill in his bed and died. I know, for he was my grandfather, and my father told me of it. My grandfather screamed on his death bed of a visit from a tall man with black eyes. The following Yule the hauntings returned; some of they locals would not go to church for fear of a sighting of Joshua Scamp. Yearly the legend grew, and 'twas said if any man locked the church door, he'd die that same night.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;min-height:13px;">

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;"> By and by the key was thrown into the Ebble, where it stayed nigh on thirty years. Joshua was seen less in church, but the village did not forget. One day last year the key was dredged up and the curate declared 'twas time an end was put to these so-called hauntings. 'Twas nothing but a tale, he declared, which would stop a man from coming to church at Christmas time. In defiance of they gypsies and their ancient curse, he turned the key in the oaken doors once more.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;min-height:13px;">

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;"> That night, he took to his bed, and died.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;min-height:13px;">

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;"> Well, 'tis all I can tell 'ee my dears; I see my mead has warmed 'ee. I've a room upstairs for the taking; 'tis a wild night to be going out again now. The church key? A safe place was needed for 't, and since 'twas my grandfather who turned it first, I'd a hankerin' for it. There 'tis, on hook on yonder wall. 'Tis a curious story, think 'ee not, my dears? If 'ee don't believe me, take down the key, and go try it in the church door this night. I'll not come with 'ee mind - I'm not as young as I once was.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;min-height:13px;">

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;min-height:13px;">

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;min-height:13px;">

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;min-height:13px;">(Note: Joshua Scamp the gypsy was a real person and his legend lives on in Odstock, near Salisbury, which was where I grew up.  I've changed a couple of details for the story. http://unusual-encounters.blogspot.co.uk/2015/09/the-gypsy-curse-of-odstock.html )

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;min-height:13px;">

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;min-height:13px;">

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;min-height:13px;">

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;min-height:13px;">

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;min-height:13px;">

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;min-height:13px;">

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:11px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;-webkit-text-stroke-color:rgb(0,0,0);-webkit-text-stroke-width:initial;min-height:13px;"> <ac_metadata title="The Tale of Joshua Scamp (unreviewed)"> </ac_metadata>