In the days of Good Queen Anne, the parson of Talland, a quaint little
sea-girt village near Looe, was a singular man named Dodge. Parson
Dodge's reputation in that neighbourhood was that of being able to lay
ghosts and command evil spirits, and although the country folk were
rather terrified of their vicar, they had the utmost faith in his
marvellous powers.
And it happened that the good folk of Lanreath, a few miles away, were
suffering severely from a wild spirit that frequented the high moor in
their parish. The ghost was that, they said, of an avaricious landowner
who had wasted his fortune in lawsuits, attempting unjustly to seize
from the villagers a wide stretch of common-land. Disappointment had
killed him, but in the spirit world he could find no rest, for he used
to return of nights to the land he had coveted, and drive wildly about
in a black coach drawn by six sable, headless horses, much to the terror
of the country folk.
So the rector of Lanreath decided at last to appeal to Parson Dodge to
come over and exorcise the wandering spirit. Parson Dodge agreed, and
upon the appointed night he and the rector rode out on to the haunted
moor to see what could be done about the bad business.
It was a grim, barren spot that they reached at last and the rector did
not at all like his task. But Parson Dodge bade him cheer up, saying
that he never yet met the ghost that he couldn't best. So the two
parsons dismounted and tramped up and down for an hour, expecting every
moment the arrival of the spectre coach.
When at last midnight had passed and nothing had happened, they decided
to abandon their vigil and return some other night. So, taking leave of
one another, they separated, the rector to take a short ride to his
home, Parson Dodge going a mile across the moor to the road that led him
back to Talland vicarage.
Dodge had been riding about five minutes when, without any apparent
reason, his mare shied, then stood stock-still. The parson tried to urge
her on, but she refused; then he dismounted and tried to lead her, but
that failed too. So he concluded that he must be intended to return,
and, remounting, he set the mare off back to the haunted moor.
She went cross-country through the murky night like the wind, and in
a very few minutes Dodge was again on the spot where he had left his
brother priest. There the mare shied once more and showed every sign of
fear, and the parson, looking about him, espied a short distance off the
gruesome spectre he had originally come to meet.
There was the sooty-black coach, the dark, headless steeds, and, what
thoroughly alarmed him, a grim cloaked figure urging his team at a
gallop along a path in which lay the prostrate form of his friend the
rector of Lanreath.
Parson Dodge set his mare, despite her fears, straight for the
approaching coach, uttering his prayers of exorcism the while. With the
first words the dusky team swerved and a sepulchral voice came from the
driver, saying: "Dodge is come! I must be gone." With that the spirit
whipped up his horses and disappeared at a tremendous pace across the
moor, and was never seen again.
The parson then dismounted and was able to revive the unconscious rector
and carry him safely home, for his own horse, startled at the appearance
of the spectre, had thrown its rider and bolted.
Talland, the home of the old parson, is a fascinating little village
on the coast, between the two Looes--East and West--and picturesque
Polperro, where rugged cliffs on either side descend to form a sheltered
little bay.
Looe is a quaint fishing town straggling on each side of the estuary
of the river of the same name. You reach it by a branch railway from
Liskeard, on the Great Western main line. It is an ideal place in which
to spend a quiet holiday. The coast east and west is typically Cornish,
rugged and wild, yet pierced every few miles by some sheltered cove
or inlet.
Looe itself, protected from the cold winds, enjoys a beautiful climate,
particularly mild in winter. Coast and moorland walks abound; there is
a golf course close at hand, and the sea fishing is excellent.
[Illustration: _Talland Church_]
[Illustration]