Folk-Lore and Devil-Lore are synonymous, and, as before mentioned, had strong hold upon our fore-fathers in Olney. The rural superstition that predominated here was Devil-Lore as will be noticed by the following tales collected some years ago from the then old inhabitants and natives of Olney.

Respecting the commencement of our present Parish Church, which was erected in the early part of the fourteenth century, a curious story is told which illustrates the superstitious tendencies of the age to which it relates. The old Church, which stood at the north end of the town, had become very dilapidated and it became a question of thoroughly repairing it or building a new one. The latter course was decided upon, the site to be near the river, in the field now called Lordship Close. The work was put in hand, and in due time the foundations were laid; but on the morrow when the workmen appeared to resume their labours, they were much surprised to find that the stones had been shifted into the adjoining field. Thinking possibly that some footpads or midnight marauders had been guilty of the mischief, they gathered up the materials, and conveying them back into Lordship Close, replaced them in their original position. The next morning their surprise was deepened into astonishment and alarm on finding that the strange proceedings had been repeated. The stones had not only been shifted as before, but laid with a skill and precision that marked the hand of a cunning workman. Who could it be? It had not occurred to any of those concerned to set a watch the night before, and failing a satisfactory solution of the question, the workmen came to the conclusion that it was no other than the Devil himself. Of course competition with such a worker was entirely out of the question and so the men refused to work. The resources of the promoters of the building were equal to the emergency, and they very soon devised means to allay the fears of the workers. They boldly declared that the Devil had nothing to do with all the commotion; but that Heaven, in its wisdom, had in this manner indicated another and better site for the new Church. The men, who were ready enough to follow the course thus miraculously pointed out, returned to their work, and the structure was completed, where it now stands. The above is told of several Churches throughout the country.
At the north end of the town there is a pond known as the Whirly Pit. This was supposed to be bottomless and to be fed by some mysterious spring. It is a curious fact that it never shows any signs of becoming dry. It contains numbers of carp, and it is very probable it was the fish pond to the old castle or monastery that is supposed to have stood in the vicinity. A remarkable story was current which connects the Whirly Pit with Sway Gog - a meadow some distance away in the direction of Weston. One night the Devil was supposed to have approached Olney by the Warrington road, in his chariot drawn by four headless horses. The coachmen were also without heads, while to complete the weird details, the night was dark and the hour that of midnight.

On nearing the town the coachmen drove straight into the Whirly Pit and continued the journey underground by means of a passage extending as far as Goosey Bridge. Here they emerged into the open with such violence that the meadow was seriously disturbed. And even now, if any person stands astride on this meadow, it is said to sway, as if shuddering at the recollection of that fearful night.

Several of the details of the above story are to be found in another legend of the Whirly Pit. Here again we have the coach drawn by headless horses. A murder had been committed, followed by an elopement, and the two occupants of the vehicle were on their way from Wellingborough to London, hotly pursued by the avenger. They entered Olney at the north end, and passed up High Street, but instead of continuing along High Street South, the drivers who resembled the horses in being minus their heads, turned up Weston Road into the meadow Sway Gog. Thence by an underground passage they passed to the Whirly Pit, from which they emerged at midnight to continue their journey and make the same mistake as before.

According to legendary accounts the Devil seems to have frequently favoured Olney with his presence. At one time the clatter of his chariot would be heard on the high road, at another he would take upon himself the mortal coil and visit them in the flesh, going so far as to take up his residence here. I cannot say what his motives were, for on this point tradition is silent. Probably he wished to draw the folk aside from the path of virtue, or it may have been that he bestowed his attentions upon the inhabitants as a reward for faithful services.
On one of these occasions when he (the Devil) was residing in the town, in a large house, the site of which is now occupied by three cottages in High Street, bearing the Nos. 121, 123A, 125A, he was greatly annoyed by an old woman living opposite, who used to put her head out of the attic window and watch his movements in his own rooms. After bearing with the old dame’s inquisitiveness for some time he determined to put an end to her curiosity. So on one occasion when she had taken up her usual post of observation, he caused a pair of gigantic horns to appear on her head, so that she could not draw it in at the window until he chose to remove them. This cured the lady and she respected his privacy ever after.

In the house above mentioned, there were some fine plasters in relief, which were executed at the expense of Mr John Brunt, one of the King’s messengers. Tradition says that this gentleman was on his way to Castle Ashby with a message from the King, when his horse stumbled and threw him. He was taken into a doctor’s house which was thought to be a Doctor Grindon’s. This cannot be correct as the Grindon family do not appear to have been connected with Olney until about 1694, some 70 years after the accident. His leg was found to be broken, and subsequently amputation became necessary.
It is said that a Dr John Faust once lived in this house, and that he terminated an unhappy existence by having his head dashed against the ceiling by the Devil. Of course the presence of blood stains were necessary to lend probability to this story; and when these were pointed out to the spectator he was solemnly assured that no amount of lime washing of scouring would remove these stains. The house earned the reputation of being haunted; and many declared that they had heard sound by night, as of chains rattling, proceeding from the chamber in which the deed was perpetrated.

This house in which the Devil lived was afterwards occupied by a man who appears to have had a clean conscience, a stout heart and a strong nerve. This worthy retired to rest one night after having duly adjusted the curtains. On getting into bed he found that the moon shone on his face. This rather surprised him as he felt certain he had properly arranged matters.

So stepping out, he drew the curtains again and sought his bed once more, but only to find that the moon beams fell on his face as before. He said to himself that the Devil must surely be at the bottom of the affair, and got out again to re-arrange the offending drapery. To his great astonishment he saw his Satanic Majesty seated on a chair. Nothing daunted he took another chair on the oppositeside of the window, and as often as one of them drew the curtains aside, the other pulled them in the opposite direction. Here the account abruptly terminates just where the story becomes most interesting. But, however, we will hope that the man’s persistent attitude was sufficient to rid him of his disreputable visitor and enable him to resume his slumbers in peace.

The particulars of the last appearance of the Devil in Olney are interesting, showing as they do how completely he was outwitted at last. There is an inn, called the Two Brewers, which he used to visit frequently, causing the host to play the fool and dance at his bidding. Whatever the landlord’s profits may have been, it is clear that his returns must have been seriously affected by the doubtful honour, thus forced upon him, of entertaining such an unlooked for visitor. His patrons were getting fewer and fewer, and they would instinctively shrink from coming in contact with the Devil, though at the same time they might be constant worshippers at his shrine. The situation was quite bad enough as it stood, when the Devil threatened to continue these evil practices, it became necessary to take steps to mitigate or remove the evil. Thirteen priests with bell, book and candle went forth to seek the disturber, and come to terms with him for the relief of the distressed publican. When they met old Clovenfoot, one of the priests, more witty than the rest, asked for a respite of a hundred years. The Devil said he could not grant this, as the term was excessive. But the wily priest was not to be outdone. He had a move in reserve which he thought might prove more successful.
He therefore asked “Will you postpone your visits until this candle I hold in my hand is burnt out?” The Devil fell into the trap and answered “Yes”. Thereupon the priest blew out the candle and placed it at the bottom of a well in the yard. If the re-lighting of this candle is to bring about a renewal of these visits, it is to be hoped in the interests of those concerned, that no meddling busybody will succeed in identifying this well and bringing the candle to light.

The old Dun Cow Inn, which stood on the Yardley Road, was also reported to be haunted. The midnight disturber in this case was not the spirit of one whose deeds in this world had been such as to deprive him of rest in the next; but an old winnowing machine which used to appear every night and set to work on its own account. My informant finished the strange narrative by saying that every one was astonished; and I can quite believe that they were.

The above attentions from the Devil might have been all very well in a superstitious age when events moved slowly; at the present day the people of Olney are well able to dispense with such favours. These are a few specimens of the stories which maintained a footing here for centuries.


The above attentions from the Devil might have been all very well in a superstitious age when events moved slowly; at the present day the people of Olney are well able to dispense with such favours. These are a few specimens of the stories which maintained a footing here for centuries.

Accompanying photographs added by Oliver Ratcliff
Olney from the top of the Church


Midland Road, Olney


Clifton Reynes Church


Newton Blossomville Church

Visit the next page - Olney Workhouses
Return to Home Page