NICK REDFERN: Timeslips

Richard Holland was the editor of Britain's Paranormal magazine, which unfortunately recently closed down. However, Richard also runs an excellent website of his own called Uncanny UK, for which I have just started writing.

Here's my first post, on UK time-slips:

http://www.uncannyuk.com/2011/01/19/time-slips-in-rural-england/

You have to register to read the article, but there's no fee.

RICHARD HOLLAND: Herefordshire black fox

Hi Jon,

Are you aware of the black fox that hides in people’s shadows in Herefordshire? It may all be cider-fuelled fantasy (I found the legend on a bottle of Dunkertons cider!) but it’s new to me. Perhaps you could alert your members to my short blog about it? I’d love to know what people think. The link is http://uncannyuk.blogspot.com/2011/01/beware-black-fox.html

Many thanks,

Richard

RICHARD HOLLAND WRITES...

Hello,

I thought you might be interested in an odd reference I’ve just found in a Victorian novel. I’m reading A Bid For Fortune by Guy Boothby, written in 1895 and notable for being one of the first novels to feature a master criminal. Dr Nikola’s constant companion is a huge black cat (domestic variety) which often sits on his lap and which he strokes soothingly while plotting evil – yup, just like Blofeld. Anyway, on page 79 of the recent reprint (‘Dr Nikola, Master Criminal’ published by Wordsworth), the hero describes his first encounter with this sinister moggie thusly:

‘I have seen cats without number, Chinese, Persian, Manx, the Australian wild cat and the English tabby, but never in the whole course of my existence such another as that owned by Dr Nikola.’

Australian wild cat?! Guy Boothby was an Australian, and made his hero one, too. Can this be a reference to the Queensland tiger or am I missing something? There are certainly no native cats in Australia, are there? According to Wikipedia, Boothby published a travel book the previous year (1894) describing a journey he made ‘across Australia’ from Cooktown to his home town of Adelaide – did he see a ‘wild cat’ during that real life adventure?

A bit of a mystery and I’d be interested in your thoughts.

All the best,

Richard (Holland!)

http://www.uncannyuk.com/

PARANORMAL FOOTPRINT FROLIX

Richard Holland of Paranormal Magazine wrote:

'look at the strange pawprint sent in by a reader from your neck of the woods. It would be great if you and maybe some more of your colleagues could offer some opinions in the comment box provided. Maybe you could flag it up on your website, too? Is it part of the Devon mysterious footprint flap of December or just someone pulling the chap’s leg? I look forward to reading what you and the CFZ chaps and chapesses think.'

The website reads:

Friday, January 29th, 2010
Reader Chris Holly has sent us these intriguing photographs taken by his father at Ottery-St-Mary in Devon.

They show a single footprint – or rather paw print – that appeared overnight in wet sand that was laid down for his father’s patio. The print is partly weathered by the rain that made the sand wet but its large size can be clearly seen by comparison with a brick placed beside it.
‘My father is not the sort of person to indulge in practical jokes like this,’ says Chris. ‘It freaked him out because the photos don’t do justice to what he originally found. The reason he took a picture and made a comment of his find was the fact that there was only one print. The area was large enough for a set of prints or at least a pair of prints.


Read On...

RICHARD HOLLAND: A teeny-tiny tusker

Once again we hand you over to guest blogger Richard Holland, editor of Paranormal Magazine and all round good bloke. He is a regular visitor to these pages and I am sure that you will all agree with me that this is jolly good news for all of us....


I had hoped to contribute more frequently than this but I guess that since I am not a cryptozoologist as such, I must content myself with shoving stuff on here as and when I stumble upon something I hope will be of interest. The following is just such an item. I found it in the ‘Curiosities’ section of the December 1915 edition of The Strand Magazine.

Recently an article appeared in the Fortean Times regarding pygmy elephants. If the following snippet is to be believed (which I guess it ain’t), elephants once lived in Myanmar which made the teeniest pygmy elephant look as big as a … well, as an elephant.

A Mr Frank Molyneux Wagstaff, of Leighton Lodge, Prome Road, Insein, Rangoon, Burma, sent a photo of perhaps the most preposterous creature ever to be submitted to a popular journal: an aquatic heffalump three inches tall. This is what Mr Wagstaff has to say about his photo:

‘The accompanying photograph shows a species of water elephant standing against a foot rule, which measures not more than three inches in height. These queer creatures are found in the Salween River, near Moulmein, and are said to be very rare. It is believed by the Burmans that the ordinary elephant will not enter a river if there is a water elephant about, as they drive their little tusks into the big elephants and poison them.

‘This one, which I photographed in Moulmein, was found hanging on an elephant’s leg one evening on his return from his bath in the river. It was killed and cured but since the photograph was taken it has been stolen from a chemist’s stores, as it is said that they are very valuable. The specimen is a full-grown one and is said to be between forty and fifty years old.’

Hmmm….

I’d love to know whether any of you crypto-types have heard of these diminutive water elephants before and whether this is the only mention of them. Incidentally, according to t’internet, Moulmein is now Mawlamyaing, Myanmar’s third largest city and is on the Salween river delta.

Richard Holland:

http://www.paranormalmagazine.co.uk/ / http://www.uncannyuk.co.uk/

CONGRATULATIONS DARLING

Congratulations to my lovely wife for her debut article as a professional writer, and congratulations to Richard Holland (editor of Paranormal magazine) for picking up on such a talented new author, who will soon make me, gothboy and Redfern seem like talentless middle-aged hacks. What d'ya mean seem like?

RICHARD HOLLAND: Herring Hoggs and Sea Devils

Once again we hand you over to guest blogger Richard Holland, editor of Paranormal Magazine and all round good bloke. He is a regular visitor to these pages and I am sure that you will all agree with me that this is jolly good news for all of us...

Richard Muirhead’s recent reference to a nautical beastie by the name of the Herring Hogg sent me delving among the landfill of dusty paper I laughingly call an archive, in search of the transcript I made of a report on just such a creature that became stranded on a Wirral beach in the 17th century. I know I’ve got it somewhere… but could I find it? No.

All I can offer in compromise is this brief reference by Christina Hole in her Traditions and Customs of Cheshire, published in 1937. I’m fairly sure Ms Hole was using the same ref. as me; a transcript of a broadside ballad reprinted in a 19th century edition of regional antiquarian journal, The Cheshire Sheaf. This is what she writes (on page 178):

‘A very curious creature, called a Herring Hogg, was said to have been stranded on the shores of Wirral in the spring of 1636. Sir John Bridgeman, Chief Justice of Chester, discovered it, when he was riding on the Lent Circuit. It was fifteen yards high, and twenty yards and one foot in length. Its voice was evidently powerful, for its cry could be heard six or seven miles away, and was “so hideous that none dared come near it for some time”. We are not told what happened to it when the local people finally summoned up courage to approach.’

I think we can guess, Christina. I imagine Herring Hogg is a generic name for any big sea mammal but the factor that sets this one apart is its loud (and probably heartbreakingly mournful) cry. Any ideas what it might have been? One suspects the Chief Justice of Chester would be unlikely to exaggerate its dimensions, which adds to the mystery.

Another critter who suffers frequent exaggeration is the Sea Devil or Devil Fish – i.e. a giant squid/ colossal octopod. Yesterday I bought a book (for £2!), which I recall reading as a youngster when it used to be on the shelves of my local library: ’Orrible Murder. This fun volume features gloriously gruesome snippets from The Illustrated Police News of the 1860s and 70s, collected by Leonard de Vries and published in 1974. Although mainly dealing with crime, there are a couple of ghost stories and an account of a Japanese Sea Devil, which I include, not for its value as a report but because of the wonderful accompanying illustration.

I’ve seen many bizarre giant squid/ octopus illos in my time but this must be the bizarrest of the lot. Don’t you just love those Cookie Monster goggly eyes? Anyway, the IPN report dates from June 21, 1873. It is quoting the ‘Japan Gazette’ of April 23. Here, just in case you’re keen, is the story:



‘We have received from the mate of an English trading vessel a rough sketch of a “monster of the deep”, known by the title of a “Sea Devil” attacking a fishing smack. We are informed by our correspondent that he can vouch for the truth of the strange encounter, which is briefly described in the paper he forwarded with his sketch, and from which our engraving is taken. It seems that a fishing boat was seized by its tentacles whilst off the village of Kononoto, in the district of Kisaradzou, and that the boatmen killed the creature by repeated blows. Its length from the tail to the insertion of the tentacles is about sixteen feet, one of the arms is from the junction of the body to the sucker at its point nearly five feet. It must be borne in mind that the polypus has shrunk since its death, so that living it would probably measure considerably more.’

Richard Holland, Editor of Paranormal Magazine (http://www.paranormalmagazine.co.uk/) and Uncanny UK (http://www.uncannyuk.co.uk/).

RICHARD HOLLAND'S SHAMELESS PLUG: Things on your doorstep

This is a new service provided by the CFZ bloggo both to publications and to you, the reading public. We invite the editors of any magazine that is on topic to the admittedly broad remit of this bloggo, to send us a shameless plug for the contents of any issue of your mag that fits on these pages...

Star attraction for cryptozoologists in the latest edition of Paranormal Magazine (June / issue 36) is an article by the CFZ’s very own zoological director, Richard Freeman.

Richard’s intriguing – and unnerving – feature, Monsters In Your Backyard, reveals that strange creatures like Bigfoot don’t always limit their activities to the wild open spaces: they have also been known to invade towns and suburban gardens.

Even dragons and lake monsters can be spotted on the edge of urban spaces. Take Nahuelito, for example, the Argentinan Nessie. Its posited habitat, a lake called Nahuel Haupi, is no longer isolated in the untrodden wilds – it’s become Argentina’s answer to Blackpool Pleasure Beach.

There’s some crypto fun to be had in Alan Friswell’s article on ‘cat-lore’ (eg, did you know invading Persians strapped pussycats to their shields to put off Bast-worshipping Egyptian soldiers?). Alan designs monsters for a living – he made the CFZ’s ‘Fiji Mermaid’, for example – so knows a thing or two about weird beasties.

To this I have added a contribution of my own on Phantom Felines – in short supply compared to paranormal pooches – while horror film fan John Stoker shines a spotlight on ghosts of the stars in Haunted Holywood. Janet Bord investigates spooky spoor – ghosts that leave tracks!
Another highlight is Steve Parson’s thorough summation of infrasound research. Low frequency sound has been blamed for making people experience apparent paranormal phenomena and Steve is doing a PhD on the subject, so knows what he’s talking about.

In addition, Nigel Watson reveals members of the Royal Family’s fascination with UFOs; Philip Mantle summarises a previously unrecorded daylight disc alert at an RAF base; ghost hunter Jason Karl chooses his ten favourite ‘old haunts’ out of the many spooky locations he has visited; and there is also a round-up on Spooky Suffolk.

Phew! No longer it takes so long to fill the bloody thing. And since this is a shameless plug (thank you Jon), I might as well add that postage in the UK is free, so if you want to give Paranormal Magazine a go and can’t find it in the shops, you won’t pay any more by ordering it off www.paranormalmagazine.co.uk

Richard Holland, Editor of Paranormal Magazine (http://www.paranormalmagazine.co.uk/) and Uncanny UK (http://www.uncannyuk.com/).

GUEST BLOGGER RICHARD HOLLAND: Two obscure Welsh dragons

Once again we hand you over to guest blogger Richard Holland, editor of Paranormal Magazine, and all round good bloke. He is a regular visitor tho these pages, and I am sure that you will all agree with me that this is jolly good news for all of us..


The Red Dragon (Ddraig Goch) is, of course, the cryptozoological symbol of the Principality of Wales (although only officially for 50 years). Not surprisingly, there are numerous dragon yarns from Wales, one or two of which have escaped the standard works on the subject. The following are both from ‘Bye-gones’, that little known journal I have found so useful for odd snippets of Fortean interest.

In June 1896, correspondent ‘N.W.T.’ contributed this bit of folklore: ‘I have been informed that some 50 years ago at Ystradgynlais [Powys, Mid Wales] it was generally believed there was a flying serpent existing on a spot called “Winllan”; it was a rough, stony piece of ground covered with brambles on the river side, and is now the site of Yniscedwyn Board Schools. Lizards infested the place. My informant suggests that the story was invented to keep children from going blackberrying.’

A quick Google search finds an Ysgol Ynyscedwyn in Ystradgynlais but their website states that this school was founded in 1906, so this may not be the Board School referred to, despite carrying the same name (I attach a picture, anyway – imagine being taught over a former dragon’s nest!).

In response to this account, ‘T.H.J.’ dug out a reference to another dragon from an old Welsh language journal of 1877 and submitted a translation to ‘Bye-gones’ later the same month. This beast inhabited the valley of the River Conwy in North Wales and went by the name of a carrog. This is the only such usage I know of (although there is a village called Carrog not far from Llangollen, in the valley of the Dee). T.H.J. informs us:

‘The carrog somewhat resembled a flying serpent. According to popular tradition, this fearful creature sheltered at night in the brushwood that then grew on Dol-y-garrog, and during the day frequently visited Eglwysfach, kidnapping and eating children; and in order to slay this creature Saint Beuno paid a visit to the place.’

St Beuno is an important name in North-East Wales, a Dark Age saint to whom many churches are dedicated. He is said to have been the uncle of St Winefride, whose severed head created the famous Holywell in Flintshire. The village where the action takes place is today spelt Eglwysbach, but this is probably an inaccurate spelling. But back to the story:

‘He reached Eglwysfach very early. He went to the church, and repeated his prayers, and after the sun had shone for some time the Carrog came and lay down on the hill. Saint Beuno ascended the church tower, and directed an arrow from his bow to the tender spot on his throat, which took fatal effect; and it is said this was the only penetrable part of the creatures hide, being like that of a crocodile.’

A practical bunch these early saints. However, there is another tradition relating to the area in which a hero slays a fearsome wild boar, so this may be a variant on that theme.

Richard Holland, Editor of Paranormal Magazine (http://www.paranormalmagazine.co.uk/) and Uncanny UK (http://www.uncannyuk.com/).

GUEST BLOGGER RICHARD HOLLAND: On a roll

Once again we hand you over to guest blogger Richard Holland, editor of Paranormal Magazine, and all round good bloke. He is a regular visitor tho these pages, and I am sure that you will all agree with me that this is jolly good news for all of us..

A motif one regularly sees in illuminated manuscripts and bestiaries is that of the ‘rolling stoat’, that is to say a stoat or weasel with its tail clasped in its jaws and apparently wheeling along in a novel manner.

My local parish church, that of St Mary’s in Mold, Flintshire, has an unusual feature, an amusing frieze of animals which runs in an unbroken line round the building. It is contemporary with the church itself, which was completed in 1501. Among the cats, dogs, cattle, dragons and imaginative hybrids represented in this frieze there are two stoats or weasels cheerfully rolling along ouroborus-style.

I’d always assumed this was just a bit of fun, a medieval jest, but a snippet I found in ‘Bye-gones’ – that old journal I spent several years picking apart – has made me ponder. I refer to an entry, dated October 12, 1904. A correspondent, Mr W H Bickerton, wrote in response to a letter submitted by another reader the previous week about an unusual stoat that was caught near Shrewsbury. This specimen was described as being ‘entirely without forelegs’, which had raised the question, ‘how the animal so bereft could move about?’. Now we come to Mr Bickerton’s contribution:

‘A woodman employed on a large estate in South Oxen [sic] once told me that on the previous day he had seen a stoat robbing a pheasant’s nest, and carrying the eggs to a wood stack a short distance off. The means adopted were as follows:- The stoat first clasped an egg with his fore paws against his chest, resting his head upon them, and then rolling himself up into a complete ball, with impetus from the hind legs rolled over and over until he reached the store-house.

‘If a stoat with his full complement of legs could carry a pheasant’s egg, I think he could manage personal locomotion when short of two. The woodman broke up the wood stack and found eighteen pheasant eggs stored away.’

So, maybe not so fanciful, then?

Incidentally, apropos of absolutely nothing other than that I’ve just remembered it, I wonder if you know what the country folk of Monmouthshire and Gwent called a mole? According to local historian and author the late Fred Hando, a mole was known in those parts as a ‘Woompa’. So, guess what they called a mole-hill? A Woompa Tump. Isn’t that great?

Richard Holland, Editor of Paranormal Magazine (www.paranormalmagazine.co.uk) and Uncanny UK (www.uncannyuk.com).

GUEST BLOGGER RICHARD HOLLAND: Big eels in British Columbia

Once again we hand you over to guest blogger Richard Holland, editor of Paranormal Magazine, and all round good bloke. He is a regular visitor tho these pages, and I am sure that you will all agree with me that this is jolly good news for all of us..

Flicking through an old copy of ‘Wide World’ magazine (May, 1926), I find a few newspaper clippings which I hope will prove of interest. The subject of the sea serpent was a chestnut in ‘Wide World’, with correspondents regularly sending in info from around the globe to the editor’s mail bag. The first clipping, from a British Columbia publication, should especially appeal to Mr Downes, who has had notable success when it comes to elongate Anguilla:

‘SEA SERPENT TRACKED TO LAIR AT LAST – The age long sea serpent mystery appeared to have uncoiled itself today when John P Babcock, Deputy Commissioner of Fisheries, was notified that Queen Charlotte Island Indians had identified the notorious sea serpents of their neighborhood as huge eels which live there in large numbers.

‘John J Can Valkenburg who has been investigating the sea serpent story all Summer and who claims to have seen one of these interesting creatures, is responsible for tracing the monsters to their den. From ancient Indians living in the Queen Charlotte Islands he has learned that for many years the natives have been accustomed to catch astoundingly large eels at rare interviews. These eels, the Indians say, live in a dark, slimy cave at the northern part of the Islands. Here many years ago an Indian brave, aided by six logs [dogs?], did battle with one of the monsters and killed it after a fierce fight. The eel killed in this encounter was nearly forty feet long.

‘The Indians’ description of the eels, says Mr Van Valkenburg, tallies precisely with the strange creature which he saw swimming near his home a few weeks ago. “They have a very large head, big nostrils and the mouth is equipped with very long, sharp teeth,” he states. Mr van Valkenburg announces that he will shortly make an expedition to the home of the eels, invade their cave and kill one if he can, thus solving the sea serpent mystery for all time.’

Or not. Needless, to say, there is no follow-up. The editor does inform us, however, that: ‘Another correspondent in British Columbia tells us that some time ago he met two prospectors who had a nerve-trying encounter with a monster “snake” of this kind while cruising in the same vicinity in a rowboat. Both were reliable men of excellent repute.’

Several months later, in the August 1926 issue, we have a new sighting reported, and this time it includes a sketch of the thing. The following report was reproduced from the ‘Tacoma Ledger’ and refers to a sighting by Captain House, an officer of the Fishery Protection service, of the Canadian Government vessel, the ‘Cloyah’. He spotted the monster when the ‘Cloyah’ entered Wright Sound, 50 miles south of Prince Rupert, BC, en route to New Westminster. Capt House’s report reads as follows:

‘The first appearance was the object rising spirally out of the water and then straightening out to about thirty feet high above the surface, retaining this position for half a minute. The last position was when it recoiled back into the water, churning it to a white foam, and submerged in the same way as it came up, at a rapid rate of speed.

‘As the sun was shining through the clouds the body took on a bright glistening green and bronze colour. The head appeared to have several dark ridges, also long pieces of thick skin, much like kelp, hanging from its head, also shining as if water was dripping from it.’

Capt House’s sketch of the twisty critter is reproduced here.

The thing caught further south, in Boothbay Harbor, Maine, was no less impressive but no one dared be so bold as to pronounce it ‘eel’, or ‘serpent’ or even ‘fish’. From the ‘Boston Globe’:

‘SEA MONSTER AT BOOTHBAY HARBOR. Aug 25 – The strangest denizen of the deep that was ever seen by fishermen or anyone else in this vicinity was towed here today from Monhegan Island by Capt Cass Brackett. It measures 33 feet long, is estimated to weight about eight tons, has an enormous girth and a mouth so big that it is said an ordinary sized flour barrel could be hidden away between its toothless jaws.

‘Scientists from the numerous resorts in this vicinity came here today to look at the monster and went away with the statement that while it resembled a whale and looked something like a shark they weren’t quite sure whether it was a descendant of the sea serpent or the devil fish.’

Surely they couldn’t confuse a fish with a cephalopod? A fish-cum-squid would be a curiosity indeed. Perhaps a ray is meant by the term ‘devil fish’? I know such vague archive reports have little value alone but I offer these here in the hope that they are not well-known and may therefore be useful to anyone studying the fishy cryptids of these particular regions who can add these snippets to their sum of knowledge.

Richard Holland, Editor of Paranormal Magazine (www.paranormalmagazine.co.uk) and Uncanny UK (www.uncannyuk.com).

GUEST BLOGGER RICHARD HOLLAND: Wrexham carter attacked by enormous serpent

Once again we hand you over to guest blogger Richard Holland, editor of Paranormal Magazine, and all round good bloke. He is a regular visitor tho these pages, and I am sure that you will all agree with me that this is jolly good news for all of us..

Apologies for both the lateness and the brevity of this blog but it’s deadline week and the usual scramble to fill pages with great dollops of strangeness.

This is another account from my home patch of North-East Wales. Unfortunately, I don’t have the original source in front of me but can tell you it was a slim volume detailing the history of a village in what is now the county borough of Wrexham: Overton in Days Gone By by G J Howson, published in 1883. I must quote from my first book Supernatural Clwyd, which I wrote when I was 24 (crikey, was I ever that young?)

‘One year in the early 19th century, there was a news report of a “huge snake” being encountered in Overton. It had leapt out of a hedge and attacked a team of horses carrying a cart of coal near the bridge. With considerable difficulty, the carter succeeding in killing it, and he draped it over his cart. The carcass was so long that its head reached the ground in front and its tail dragged along behind!’

I sincerely hope it was the source that was vague about the year and not down to any youthful sloppiness on my part. I also find myself pondering whether snakes, be they ever so huge, can actually ‘leap’. I suppose they can. The bridge referred to is a sizeable, horseshoe-shaped structure with an inn on its northerly (I think) side and a wide stretch of the River Dee far below it on the opposite side.

I shouldn’t think this snippet is well known so I hope it proves interesting, brief though it is. I don’t suppose there are many descriptions of dragon-length serpents from the 19th century.

Richard Holland, Editor of Paranormal Magazine (http://www.paranormalmagazine.co.uk/) and Uncanny UK (http://www.uncannyuk.com/).

GUEST BLOGGER RICHARD HOLLAND: Wild Cats and a Carnivorous Squirrel

Once again we hand you over to guest blogger Richard Holland, editor of Paranormal Magazine, and all round good bloke. He is a regular visitor tho these pages, and I am sure that you will all agree with me that this is jolly good news for all of us..

Having hunted out the beech marten info from my archive of notes gleaned from Bye-gones, the long defunct journal for Wales and the Borders, I spotted several references to wild cats which I thought might be useful to jot down here. This might be tiresome news for you big cat experts: I confess ignorance as to the distribution of wild cats in times past but was surprised to find them still prevalent in Wales in the final decade of the 19th century.

In 1892, the editor informed his readers: ‘Lord Stanley of Alderley, writing to Land & Water, says that a wild cat was killed on Holyhead Island on January 26th.’ This island off the coast of Anglesey is only a few miles long and has – today anyway – poor tree cover, not the sort of habitat I’d imagine a wild cat favouring.

A year later, in May 1893, the editor offered another vague snippet of news: ‘A pack of otter hounds had an exciting chase after a wild cat in Carnarvonshire the other day.’

And finally, in 1896, he referred to Mountaineering Below the Snow-line, ‘the statement of a Scottish keeper living in Cwm Eigiau, at the foot of Carnedd Llywelyn, in 1881’. Apparently, this keeper stated that ‘the wild cat was still sufficiently common in that part of Wales to account, partly at least, for the scarcity of game’. Carnedd Llywelyn is north of Capel Curig, east of the Nant Ffrancon, an especially bleak and unpopulated part of Snowdonia. It too has minimal tree cover. Is this the sort of habitat the Scottish wild cat would favour? Could it be a different species or sub-species adapted to a different landscape? Or could these cats simply be feral domestic breeds?

Finally, another oddity, this time from my home-town of Mold (whose ugly name, incidentally, is a contraction of the moniker of its Norman overload, Montault). Correspondent ‘W.G.’ writes from Mold in February 1892:

‘On Friday last a squirrel was seen in the garden here carrying a dead blackbird up into a tree; he then ate it, dropping bones, wings etc, after consuming the flesh. We have, however, had very severe weather here for some time, and this may account for it.’

Oddly enough, I spoke to a man who was convinced he had the ghost of a squirrel in his living room in Mold. He and his wife would see the impression of little paws running up the curtain, but they never saw anything make them and never found other evidence of an animal hiding out in the room. It’s a peculiar place, Mold.

Richard Holland, Editor of Paranormal Magazine (www.paranormalmagazine.co.uk) and Uncanny UK (www.uncannyuk.com).

GUEST BLOGGER RICHARD HOLLAND: The Palé beech Marten

Once again we hand you over to guest blogger Richard Holland, editor of Paranormal Magazine, and all round good bloke. He intends to be a regular visitor tho these pages, and I am sure that you will all agree with me that this will be jolly good news for all of us..

I know Jon Downes is interested in Beech Martens, so I’ve dug through some old research material (made when I was a keen young lad in my 20s, with a proper beard) to unearth an account of the possible capture of such a beastie that may not be well known. It comes from a long defunct old journal called Bye-gones, which was distributed throughout Wales and the Borders and concerned with antiquarian and natural history matters from those regions.

The following extract appeared in the August 1887 edition and was provided by a correspondent calling himself ‘J. Ll.’ (they were all so modest, these Victorian contributors). The location referred to, Palé, is a large estate boasting extensive deciduous woodland in what is now the county of Conwy. Over to J.Ll:

‘A short time ago whilst one of Mr Robertson’s (Palé) watchers was going round his beat he found to his surprise in one of the steel traps set for vermin, a ferocious looking animal, and it was with the greatest difficulty he could approach him. Being caught by the hindleg, he was springing forward, and striving his utmost to bite him. The watcher, however, managed to set another trap, so his forefeet were secured, and he was taken alive to the keeper’s residence.

‘It was sent to Mr Shaw of Shrewsbury to be preserved, and Mr Shaw described him thus: “He is a fine example of the Beech Marten (Martesfoine) and has become very rare; they reside in trees, and feed mostly on squirrels. When descending to the ground they destroy rats and other small animals.”

‘We may also add that in size he is smaller than a fox, and of a dark brown colour with white along the breast, the tail and head very much resembling the cat. He has been well stuffed and looks very well, placed on a branch of a tree. This can be seen at Mr Thomas Hughes’s, Glyn, Llandrillo (the keeper’s house).’

I confess to being surprised by Mr Shaw’s positive identification: my understanding was that the Beech Marten has never officially been recognized as an inidigenous species to Britain, at least not in modern times. Or am I mistaken? The current location – if any – of the stuffed animal is, alas, unknown.

Richard Holland, Editor of Paranormal Magazine (www.paranormalmagazine.co.uk) and Uncanny UK (www.uncannyuk.com).

GUEST BLOGGER RICHARD HOLLAND: Legend of the Welsh Lakes

Once again we hand you over to guest blogger Richard Holland, editor of Paranormal Magazine, and all round good bloke. He intends to be a regular visitor tho these pages, and I am sure that you will all agree with me that this will be jolly good news for all of us..

Since I have lived in Wales since I was a nipper, Welsh folklore is very much my thang, so don’t be surprised if this blog is strongly biased towards Cryptidiau Cymru.

One of the most significant cryptids from Welsh folklore is the Afanc: it features in several legends of some antiquity. And yet it remains one of the most obscure, since, as far as I can tell, there is no description of it.

The mysterious monster is linked to several lakes in North Wales: Llyn Barfog and Llyn Ffynnon Las, both in Snowdonia, Llyn Llion (unknown but possibly an old name for Llyn Tegid, ie Bala Lake) and Llyn yr Afanc, a deep pool in the River Conwy.

In two of these stories, the monster has been causing terrible floods until defeated by a hero: at Llyn Barfog by King Arthur and at Llyn yr Afanc by Hu Gadarn (Huw the Mighty, an archetype who might be a form of the Celtic Horned God). Both heroes employ enormous long-horned oxen, the Ychen Bannog – which deserve an article to themselves (I suspect they are memories of the auroch) – to haul him from his watery den.

Although these legends wax lyrical about the oxen, descriptions of the monstrous Afanc are not forthcoming, other than that he is capable of causing floods and is of great size. Although, in fact, the latter characteristic isn’t certain either. Prof John Rhys associated the word afanc with the Irish abhac, meaning ‘dwarf, pigmy, manikin, a sprite’. In one tale the Afanc throws poisoned darts and in the River Conwy story he talks to his captor: suggesting a more human form.

Afon is the Welsh word for river and afanc may therefore be a derivation, simply meaning ‘of the river’, or ‘creature of the river’, which is no help either. Today, the Afanc tends to be imagined as a dragon, fulfilling the same folkloric (and ecological) niche as English beasts like the Lambton Worm.

But it’s significant that he word afanc survived into the Middle Ages to mean beaver: in the 12th century, Giraldus Cambrensis mentions the beaver as an exotic animal still inhabiting the River Teifi in South Wales. Folklorist T Gwynn Jones made the sensible observation that we shouldn’t forget ‘the evidence of great inundations caused by the bursting of beaver dams’ – after all the only certain characteristic we do know of the legendary Afanc is that it could cause floods.
It seems likely then that in the imaginations of the early Welsh, the Afanc was not a dragon. What their imaginations conjured up was an enormous hairy beaver.

(Ahem! I’m sorry – have I said something funny? Quick someone, slap Richard Freeman on the back, he appears to be choking.)

For more of Richard Holland’s blather, visit http://www.paranormalmagazine.co.uk/ and http://www.uncannyuk.com/

GUEST BLOGGER RICHARD HOLLAND: Animals that aren’t

Once again we hand you over to guest blogger Richard Holland, editor of Paranormal Magazine, and all round good bloke. He intends to be a regular visitor tho these pages, and I am sure that you will all agree with me that this will be jolly good news for all of us..

I’ve had a few communications now from readers of my Paranormal magazine concerned that it has become overly biased towards cryptozoology. Although this is something I’m prepared to address, I am surprised to find that readers seem to consider anything which apparently bears fur or feathers falls under the remit of the cryptozoologist.

In the current issue there is an article by Janet Bord – who first highlighted the concept of ‘animals that aren’t’ in her (and Colin’s) 1980 book Alien Animals – on winged humanoids. And Jon Downes – who came up with the nattier phrase ‘zooforms’ for the same thing – writes a review of the British star of that particular show, the Owlman. In a previous issue Janet recounted some of the more outré features of some Bigfoot stories: glowing red eyes, telepathy, impervious to bullets etc. I consider none of these articles to be on the subject of ‘cryptozoology’. Not even crypto-cryptozoology.

Clearly it’s the duty of the cryptozoologist to take a peek at such stories just to make sure there isn’t anything there to interest him/her. But although they might feel that Owlman was just a sighting of a big owl which freaked out a couple of kids creeping round a creepy church at twilight, or that Mothman was just a big crane that swooped on a car, and that both yarns grew in the telling… it’s not really their place to go on about it. Officially, I mean. It’s not really their job. Once glowing eyes and human morphology and sudden disappearances and bullet-proof skin etc etc become part of the description, surely it’s time for the cryptozoologist to move on? By all means chase after Thunderbird: if it exists, it’s a bird (or better still a Pteranodon). But Mothman?

The other way round is OK: looking at the folklore of exotic peoples in exotic places to determine whether some of their mythology may refer to undiscovered exotic beasties. The hoped for result in those cases is something zoological, not parasychological: something of flesh-and-blood you can give a Latin name to (preferably one incorporating your surname!).

The reason I highlight this is that there is a danger of the very proper study of Cryptozoology becoming confused – yea verily, polluted – with Spookology (a term I’ve just coined and now feel rather fond of). Batsquatch is not an indigenous species of North American ape that’s also evolved big bat wings so that it can fly up and pick the choicest bananas from the equally undiscovered North American banana tree. And Black Dogs aren’t black dogs (except when they are, in which case, who cares?). They are SPOOKS, fit only for the attention of the Spookologist.

And let’s face it if you trekked into some steaming jungle hoping to find an unknown species of big lizard only to find yourself confronted by some supernatural monster that was on a spree from Yoh-Vombis or Unknown Kaddath you’d crap yourself.

And no zoo would take it. (Shamblerfromthestars freemaniensis anyone?)

Richard Holland / http://www.paranormalmagazine.co.uk/ / http://www.uncannyuk.com/ /

GUEST BLOGGER RICHARD HOLLAND: A cuddly cryptid

The CFZ blogging family would like to introduce you to a new guest blogger: Richard Holland, editor of Paranormal Magazine, and all round good bloke. He intends to be a regular visitor tho these pages, and I am sure that you will all agree with me that this will be jolly good news for all of us..

I have just one mystery beast sighting of my own. But it wasn’t very impressive. It was rather small and cuddly, in fact.

Early spring last year I went to take another look at an important holy well local to me in North-East Wales. Ffynnon Degla (St Tegla’s Well) at Llandegla in Denbighshire had been little more than a damp hole in the ground for more than a century but in its day (up to the early 19th century) had been an important pilgrim site and a bit of a cash cow for the parish church, since it was believed to cure epilepsy (providing you took part in an elaborate ritual involving the transference of the disease to a chicken and, of course, coughed up a coin or two). The well has recently been cleared and restored, so it’s now a basin in the ground rather than a damp patch and since there’s not very much to do up here, this seemed like an exciting enough attraction for me to bother driving the all-of 8 miles to visit the site again.

The experience was not exciting enough to keep my interest for more than about 46 seconds, however, so I then went for a stroll through the fields which skirt the River Alun into which Ffynnon Degla drains. It’s fairly nondescript county just here: open grass fields, some with cows or sheep, a few patches of woodland and scrappy plantations, also a few farms and cottages dotted about in between. Llandegla is on limestone and about 250m above sea level, although higher ground and moorland (standing on gritstone and shale) is to be found east and west a few miles away.

Strolling along in rather muted light, I spotted a critter some way ahead of me on the path. Now unfortunately, I’m useless at judging distances (my old driving instructor was driven mad by this trait, I seem to recall); suffice it to say it was close enough for me to easily spot and follow it but sufficiently far away for me to at first mistake it for a bird before realizing it was actually a mammal. When I first saw it, I thought it was a grouse or maybe some exotic pheasant that had lost its tail. That gives you an idea of the size, and also the shape: dumpy, low to the ground.

But the reason I assumed at first it was a bird was the colour. It was red. I mean: RED. Not chestnut or foxy reddish but Red Panda red, Bandicoot red. It trotted ahead of me on the path, with a kind of lolloping gait. I couldn’t see its legs. And for some reason I can’t for not recall the length or shape of its tail. All I can give is useful negatives: it didn’t have a brush and it didn’t have the white flash of a rabbit’s tail.

I was effectively driving the critter. It was aware I was there and if I stopped it would trot more slowly, but since it still kept moving, I considered it advisable to try and keep up with it just in case it turned its head. And the bastard didn’t, so I never saw it in profile. All I saw was its back and bum.

Well, there you are, a furry red thing with a dumpy shape which trotted and/or lollopped. Ultimately, I lost sight of it, ran on and realised it must have at last found a hole in the fence and had escaped into a scrubby bit of land which provided it with plenty of cover. I stood there for ages hoping I’d get another glimpse but I didn’t. I suppose I could have camped out there with big binocs but Richard Freeman I ain’t: I’m more of a spend-time-in-a-library-with-loads-of-dusty-folklore-books-and-a-cup-of-tea kinda guy.

Finally, in the hope that you haven’t already dozed off or clicked away from my one feeble foray into cryptozoology in the (rather damp) field, I need to ask a question: are there such things as brindle foxes? Twice now I’ve caught a fox in my headlights here in my home village of Gwernaffield in Flintshire and am convinced it’s brindle, or dare I say it, tabby. But much darker than most foxes or indeed tabby cats. So, is it just a trick of my headlights, or have we a rather unusual fox padding about our village?

GUEST BLOGGER RICHARD HOLLAND: A Wide World of Man-Monkeys

The CFZ blogging family would like to introduce you to a new guest blogger: Richard Holland, editor of Paranormal Magazine, and all round good bloke. He intends to be a regular visitor tho these pages, and I am sure that you will all agree with me that this will be jolly good news for all of us..

Of the many hobbies I inflict on my ever-dwindling bank balance is my enthusiasm for bound volumes of wonderful Victorian/Edwardian magazines like The Strand, Pearson’s and Pall Mall, stuffed full as they are of Golden Age illustration, crime and spook stories and contemporary commentary.

One of my favourites is Wide World, which first started publishing in the 1890s. Wide World was packed with adventure stories from the exploration (and exploitation) days of the British Empire, as sterling chaps with enormous moustaches forged their way through jungle, desert and mountainous wastes encountering indigenous peoples and, yes, monsters on their way.

I’ve republished several edited highlights from my Wide World collection in the ‘Unearthed’ section of Paranormal Magazine, many of a cryptozoological nature (or supernature). Two of these were devoted to what the editorial chaps of the early 1900s liked to refer to as ‘Man-Monkeys’. ‘The Hunt for the Man-Monkey’ retold an expedition to Borneo, which included the celebrated Rajah Brooke, to capture a Mai-as, described as an ‘extraordinary animal emphatically distinct from any other variety of the ape family [and] gifted with a really high degree of intelligence’.

Needless to say, rather than capture this splendid hominid, they end up shooting one (the accompanying illustration of the savage-looking beast was a Rider Haggard-style treat). ‘The dead body of the monkey having been skinned and the flesh removed,’ we are informed, ‘the skeleton was brought back to England, where it remains in the possession of the owner of the yacht who had organized this expedition.’ Frustratingly, neither the name of the owner or his yacht is vouschafed to us, however: does the skeleton still exist, mislabeled maybe in some private collection?

The other story referred to the Mudevar tribe, also known as Tiger People, who inhabited the jungles of the Cardamom Hills near the Southern India Malabar Coast. These hairy, dwarfish, ape-like people were entirely new to me. Like the Mai-as of Borneo, they are described as living in ‘nests’ high up in the trees. They used boluses to kill their game, which would include humans if they were lucky enough to get one. For this reason alone, we are informed by the translator of a hill-tribe chieftain’s yarn, they were cheerfully slaughtered by other tribespeople. I believe their former stamping ground has been largely cultivated now, all that jungle tamed. They must be long extinct, or, if they were human, absorbed into the more general Malabar gene pool.

I would be pleased to learn how well-known the Tiger People are in cryptozoological circles. Does anyone have any more information on them? And what of the Wild Man of Borneo’s missing skeleton? The Wide World does feature stories that are patently untrue or exaggerated, although I suspect the editors at the time may have been unaware of this. But the tales of the Man-Monkeys do have the ring of authenticity to me. So, over to the experts at the CFZ!

Richard Holland, Editor of Paranormal Magazineand Uncanny UK.