The Christmas tree is more than a much-loved and glittering centrepiece of festive decorations and celebrations. In the home, it is a unifying symbol the family can gather around, strengthening familial ties and a place of fun and cheer. When placed in the local community it becomes a rallying point for people to sing carols, meet, and strengthen social bonds. However, its exact origin is debated, and there are different ideas of how its importance to the festival evolved. Presented here is a retelling of how Saint Boniface introduced the fir tree into traditions and celebrations of the birth of Jesus. This tells how Saint Boniface cut down a sacred oak tree that was a prominent place of pagan worship in a place now called Hesse in Germany. Saint Boniface, also known as Winfrid or Winfred, was born c. 675 in Wessex, England and died June 5, 754, in Dokkum, Frisia, now part of the Neverlands. He was an English Benedictine monk working to establish Christianity in Germany and the Frankish empire. At that time, in that place, people worshipped pagan gods under a sacred tree growing singularly or in groves. The tree in this legend was called the Thunder Oak and is sometimes known as the Donar Oak, Jove’s Oak, the Oak of Jupiter, and other similar terms in other myths and legends.
Legend Of The Thunder Oak
The story begins in a time long before the establishment of Christianity in the Germanic lands where a massive oak grew. It was a true giant of trees so tall its topmost branches were hidden by clouds. Its ancient body was broad and twisted from which a profusion of long, gnarled, stretching limbs spread, creating a vast overarching canopy of darkness centre around the tree. To the people of these lands, the great tree was sacred and venerated as the Thunder Oak of their great god Thor and one of the most important shrines of his cult. Yet, under the darkness of its great canopy, human victims died under the bloodied knife of the priests of Thor, their blood soaking into the ground to feed the ravenous roots of the ancient oak.
Even in the dead of winter, bare of leaves and acorns, the space under its vast spreading branches, clumped with mistletoe, was a place of continuous and gloomy darkness. In this dread place, an atmosphere of quiet but overwhelming fear pervaded under the great smothering branches. Animals avoided the tree, making wide detours around it, while birds would not fly near or over it or perch in its branches. Even the buzzing flies and creeping insects kept well out of the dread darkness under its canopy.
And it came to pass, one cold, white Christmas Eve, as Christians were preparing to celebrate the birth of Christ, the priests of Thor gathered under their sacred tree. They had not come to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ or Christmas. Instead, they had come to pay homage to their god of war and thunder and witness the human sacrifice whose blood would nourish and strengthen the great tree and feed its darkness. They were joined by a great throng of their people to worship their own god, as was their tradition at this time of year.
Over the great tree rose a bright moon. The high priest chanted and made magical signs over the altar while the victim lay shivering in the cold, awaiting the stab of pain from the deadly knife that would end their life. As the high priest spread his arms out towards the Thunder Oak, his eyes adoring the sacred tree, his hand raised to strike, the air became still, all sound in the forest stopped, and silence fell. The bright moon rose to its zenith, sending her rays to find and illuminate the helpless man spread-eagled on the altar slab awaiting the stab of pain that would end their life. It never came. Instead, something extraordinary happened. As the pure rays of the brilliant moon lit the altar, the forest’s silence was broken. From the depths of the woods came the sound of Christian hymns sung by a throng of people growing louder as they drew nearer. They were led by Saint Boniface, who had come to bring Christianity and establish the church of Jesus Christ.
As the illuminating moon banished the darkness under the great Thunder Tree of Thor, Saint Boniface strode forward, wielding a shining axe. The High Priest, dagger in his hands, his raised arms poised to strike, froze. His followers parted to allow the saint to march directly up to the Thunder Oak unchallenged. Then, gathering his strength in his arms, he struck a blow that caused a great gash in the tree’s trunk with his axe. The shocked High Priest and his followers looked on in fear as he struck the oak repeatedly, causing an ever-widening gash in the its body.
Suddenly, a mighty wind swept over the forest roof, hitting the great oak with force. With an awful groan, the tree toppled backwards, crashing into the ground with such force it caused its great trunk to split into four equal portions. Behind the wreckage of the oak, a young fir tree stood, its green spire pointing the way to heaven. Dropping his axe and turning to his people, the saint pointed at the young verdant tree and joyfully cried,
“See there, the young scion of the forest, the tree of peace! See how it is shaped like a church steeple pointing to heaven. We build our houses from it to shelter us; its foliage remains evergreen. Let this tree be known as the tree of the Christ child. Let us bring it into our homes where it will encourage our loving deeds and acts of kindness and bring the peace of Jesus Christ into our hearts as we shun the wildness of the wood!”
In obedience to the saint, they took the sapling fir into their great communal meeting hall where all could see it. They abandoned the cult of Thor and the Thunder Oak and practised Christianity, and every year celebrated Christmas and the birth of Jesus Christ with a young evergreen fir tree at the centre of their home, family, and community.
Presented below is a retelling of a Lancashire folktale from Goblin Tales of Lancashire by James Bowker, where it was called The Phantom of the Fell.
The High Fell at Night
The High Fell is an impressive sight in daylight but at night when the moon is full it takes on a glory of its own. One evening in the middle of June a local man named Giles Wheeler had been celebrating the wedding of a distant relative. During those celebrations he had felt within him a longing for the company of his own dear sweetheart the rosy-faced, warm-hearted Lisa, who was the miller’s only daughter. It was a long road home and in daylight the quickest way was through the ravine that split the Fell in two but that was something few local people did after dark. It had long been rumoured that something evil lurked in the ravine and walked the Fell at night. Even in daylight people walked a considerable distance out of their way to avoid passing near the darksome place.
Giles was not overly superstitious and being a vigorous man in the prime of life had little fear of the Fell at night or the supposed fiend that haunted it though normally by habit he would have played safe and avoided it because of its darkness and danger from the cliffs and ridges. However, this night the moon lit the hillside gloriously and he judged he had sufficient light to pass through safely. Had he not been in such a hurry he might have noticed that as well as being gloriously moonlit, it was a calm and peaceful night. The only sound was the gently whispering of the breeze through the bracken.
Giles took no notice of such trivialities as moonlight and the breeze through the bracken he had his mind full of the delights of Lisa. Maybe another night, with less pressing concerns on his mind Giles would have avoided the ravine on High Fell despite it being a substantial short cut to the old mill and the miller’s cuddly daughter.
The Ravine
On this night he was in a hurry and putting aside all of the terrifying stories he had heard he stepped into the darkness of the ravine leaving the moonlight behind. His desire for Lisa was strong but as he walked along in the moonlight he kept thinking back to those tales. Each shadow that loomed before him and each rustle behind him made him start and his heart jump. His skin grew cold and prickled and his fear rose. He told himself not to be foolish, that the shadows were nought but shadows and the rustling behind him was nought but the breeze in the bracken. Entering into the ravine he was surprised to find it was very misty and he pulled his coat around him feeling chilled to the bone despite it being a warm midsummer night. He felt it before he heard it. The scream penetrated his brain. He froze in fear. It cut right through him. Possessed him!
Forcing himself on the deathly wail broke the night again as he reached a curve in the ravine. The terrible wail was not intended to terrify rather to express melancholy, sadness and woe. As it washed over him he knew the maker of such a sound could not be from this world. Startled, he looked in its direction and in the moonlight saw the shape of a woman against the moon standing upon a cliff. Her face was pale with a fragile beauty, her long black hair had a strange lustre, her dark eyes a melancholy, pleading, allure that sought him out and looked deep into his soul and then she was gone.
She appeared a little way before him and he stood spellbound worshiping her beauty. All fear was replaced by a delirious desire to speak – to speak and to be spoken to – by this most beautiful woman who appeared to be in such anguish. As her lips moved his heart beat faster expecting her to speak to him.
To his shock and disappointment instead of speaking words she uttered another long, low, lamenting wail and held out her arms invitingly to him. Now, he hurried forward eager to greet her. She turned slowly gliding on a few paces before turning and beckoning – inviting him to follow. She floated further along the ravine where the moonlight was at its brightest beckoning and appealing to him with those dark eyes and he hurried after her. She turned and holding her arms out towards him, her eyes pleading, inviting, her arms welcoming. As he reached out to touch and take her, she vanished and he grasped at nothing. Bewildered and deeply disappointed he ran around anxiously trying to find her again. Frantically, he looked around, but there was no sight of her to be seen. He retraced his steps through the ravine but even in the bright moonlight could find no trace of her. Fearful of losing her he crisscrossed the ravine desperately seeking her and roamed around High Fell until dawn. Finally, instead of continuing his journey to his sweetheart Lisa he went back to his own family home.
Home
Unwilling to tell his parents of his experience on the High Fell during the night he told them that he had not left the wedding celebrations until midnight. Having drunk too much ale he had become lost on the way home. This appeared to satisfy them though it was remarked that after such festivities it was a wonder he had found his way home at all!
Throughout the day his mother and father became aware their son was unusually quiet and reflective and nothing like his usual cheerful and energetic self. His father put it down to the ale the night before, while his mother thought perhaps the wedding was making him reflect on his own marital status and hoped for one for her son soon.
When Giles suddenly stood up and announced he was going out for a few hours, giving no hint of where he was going, his mother nodded and looked knowingly upon her son as he walked purposefully through the door into the falling twilight. In fact, it was not in the direction of the old mill that Giles turned when he left the house but the opposite direction he stepped with his eyes fixed upon High Fell. He deliberately took his time loitering here and there with the deliberate intention of entering the ravine that evening after the gloaming by the light of the moon.
He walked unwarily with no intent at concealment knowing on the path he traveled at that time of the evening he would be unlikely to meet anyone. All he cared about was meeting the beautiful woman – phantom – or spirit, that he had met the night before on the Fell. Taking a seat on a boulder outside the ravine he sat down to wait for the moon to rise hoping she would appear once again to him.
Woman or ghoul he did not care he had to see her and he waited. He waited and watched as the night began to unfold around him feeling her presence, knowing she was near as the mist appeared and thickened around him. Once again he felt it before he heard it a strange lamenting wail cutting through his mind. He knew there were words in that long moaning scream but could not make them out.
Return to the Ravine
He entered the ravine as the moon rose in full glory and walked slowly down the path between the crags. Again he felt her presence, but stronger than before, then the low, long mournful wail crept through the night he looked towards the sound and saw her standing in the moonlight high upon a crag her outstretched arms beckoning to him.
In growing desire and anticipation he moved towards her as she floated down from the crag to stand a short way down the path before him. He caught a glimpse of those mysteriously dark eyes – appealing – pleading. She beckoned to him, turned and glided further down the path toward the heart of the dark clough. He had no other choice than to follow as she drew him deeper into the jagged maw of the ravine and turned to face him her dark eyes shining in the moonlight her black hair flowing in the breeze. There she stood, white dress shimmering in the moonlight her arms outstretched beckoning, her eyes pleading – inviting. Giles stumbled on reaching out for her but as he looked into the depths of her pleading eyes, she uttered a low mournful cry and as he reached to hold her she dissolved before him.
Aghast, Giles ran up and down trying to find her but she was gone. All that was left was that low mournful sound that echoed in his mind. He spent the night searching the ravine and the Fell but all in vain. As the sun rose he made his way back to the farm of his parents feeling mournful at her loss, bewitched and musing upon how he could find her again.
Over the following days the urge to gaze upon that beautiful face and to lose himself in those pleading eyes consumed him. He took to sitting around and refused to eat. In the evenings he would leave his parents farm to ramble alone on the High Fell in the hope of once again seeing that mysteriously beautiful stranger.
Lisa
June passed into July and his mother, father and Lisa could not help noticing the change in his behaviour. Worse still, the continual refusal to explain himself and his nocturnal ramblings caused them great worry and they speculated wildly upon what it was that was troubling him.
July passed into August and the miller, Lisa’s father, to her upset took a less than charitable view suggesting Giles nocturnal rambles were in fact visits to a nearby town and that he had fallen into evil ways. Despite her father’s dark opinion of Giles, the ever faithful Lisa went to her fiance’s house to meet and talk with him in the hope of winning back his devoted attention.
Giles listened to her earnest and heartfelt pleadings full of shame but would not, indeed, could not, give her assurances that he would change his ways. She argued with logic, she reasoned, she begged she pleaded and used all her womanly wiles, but Giles refused to promise to change his ways.
Lisa was left thinking that her father was right and bitterly accused him of being dishonest and unfaithful to her and left for home in tears.Halfway home she stopped and thought about running back to him, throwing herself upon him and begging him to tell her the truth. She would forgive any indiscretions but insist his behaviour must stop. Something inside her stopped her, perhaps pride, perhaps anger but she didn’t. Instead, she went back home to her father at the mill. As for Giles, he was deeply upset and desperately ashamed and sorry for his behaviour but he knew he could not stop and refused to tell further lies. Nevertheless, he realised he was steadily falling completely under the power of the mysterious woman and tried to resist.
August passed into September and then into October and all those long days and nights his mind was assailed by the vision of the woman of the Fell and he heard her long lonely moan day and night.
The Mad Man on the Fell
One night towards the end of November he made his way up to the High Fell to the ravine and began searching for the mysterious woman in white. He walked up and down and round and round in circles, becoming increasingly frantic as the night progressed without her appearance. Again and again he spoke out loud appealing to her to present herself to him, but to no avail.
Occasionally, as on this night poachers visited the High Fell in the hope of finding game. This night two of the miller’s men were out poaching and on hearing a voice quickly concealed themselves so as not to be discovered in their illicit activity. They were both intrigued and shocked at what they witnessed that night.
In their place of concealment they saw Giles appear out of the ravine frantically babbling as if he was talking or appealing to an invisible being. He ran straight towards them appearing half-crazed shouting and babbling in agitation. They could not quite make out what he was saying but as he drew nearer they realized he appeared to be appealing and begging to some invisible being to show themselves to him.
The two poachers remained hidden, first not wanting to reveal themselves in their illegal activity, but also, quite simply, they were scared at what they saw and agreed together to say nothing to anyone of what they had seen of the madman on the Fell. When Giles ran the opposite way to where they were they took their opportunity and ran as quickly as they could back home.
Fever
At dawn Giles somehow made his way down the hillside and back home. To the worry of his parents he was in a state of high fever and delirium ranting and calling out to some invisible presence only he could see. He raved about a beautiful, mysterious face and someone with dark, pleading eyes.
This confirmed to his parents their worst fears. Sorrowfully they tended to his needs as he lay raving in bed. This terrible affliction continued for several weeks and in that time, especially at night, Giles would try to leave the safety of his family home to go wandering in the dark. His parents steadfastly thwarted this ambition but still he called out to someone they could not see or hear, sometimes whispering, “She of the dark, dark eyes is calling,” while his broken-hearted parents wept by his bedside.
It was bad enough for his devoted parents to see the physical deterioration in his body along with his mental state. It was made worse for them by learning from his ravings of a beautiful woman with “dark, dark eyes” that he appeared to have been meeting up on the High Fell. Nevertheless, he was still their son and although they loved him dearly they could not help but to think he had fallen into sin and shame as they listened to his wild and impassioned ravings.
The Feeroin
They lived on the edge of a tight knit community and it was not long before people began to talk and word reached the ears of Lisa. She carried herself through these troubled times staunchly, believing she was now seen as an object of pity.
It so happened that the two of the miller’s men who had been up on the fell poaching went to their employer telling him of what they had seen that night. They told him they believed Giles was under the spell of the feeorin of the fell.The miller rebuked them for poaching but sent them to speak to the worried parents of Giles of what they had seen. For Lisa this gave her hope that her fiance had not been unfaithful as she had feared. She was sorry for ever doubting him and she went along with them.
After the two told their story of what they had seen and that they believed him to be under the spell of the feeroin of the fell his parents readily seized upon it. To them this seemed the most sensible explanation of their son’s behaviour and rebuked themselves for not having more faith in him. Although a load was removed from their shoulders Giles still remained critically ill, but now Lisa stayed on and helped to take care of him.
Lisa and Giles
Both she and his parents now ignored his ravings and nursed him diligently and carefully. Eventually his condition improved enough for him to sit in a chair by the fire. As the December snows began to fall he sat by the hearth in a dream-like state watching the pictures in the flickering flames. Seeing his improvement Liza dared to dream of the day when he would return to his old self and happiness would smile upon them. She desperately wanted their wedding day to be fixed, despite all the love and attention she heaped upon him Giles treated her with a cold, but polite dispassion. He was not being ungrateful, in fact he fully appreciated the dedication and nursing she had lavished upon him. He always politely thanked her for each and everything but realised that Lisa sensed something was still amiss with him. Despite this, she still she lovingly continued her service to him without question.
Giles, no matter how he tried, could not return the love she bestowed upon him. He was completely possessed by the dark eyes of the mysterious woman on the Fell. Knowing that the truth would devastate Lisa he kept himself to a polite silence.
On Lisa’s part she sensed the coolness towards her but restrained from remonstrating with him fearing it might reverse the good progress in his physical health he had made. Sadly, when she was alone she wept for the change she saw in him.
For all the love she poured upon him Giles could not return what he not did not feel. His heart and mind was entirely possessed by the mysterious woman on the Fell. He knew it was wrong and he was wracked with guilt at the same time. No matter how he tried he could not get the image of her out of his mind; her dark eyes, her long flowing hair, and that sad mournful cry. It was these that dominated his thoughts and his emotions while he knew poor Lisa suffered but could not in anyway alleviate that suffering.
For him the intense longing he was feeling or the mysterious girl in the moonlight was building up. As the days moved towards Christmas and the festive season, he again began to see her dark eyes everywhere and hear her mournful lament in the wind through the trees. He tried to enter into the spirit of the season hoping it would take his mind off the mysterious woman.
Christmas Eve
Christmas Eve came and Lisa went home to her father promising to visit him in the morning. His parents went to bed early being exhausted and feeling their age and left him to sit up alone staring into the fire. From where he sat by the fire he could turn his head and look through the window to the High Fell and saw in his mind’s eye the woman in the moonlight beckoning and crying her long, sad cry.
In the distance he saw the High Fell black against the sky and he knew she was calling to him. He longed more than anything in the world to take her in his arms and look into those dark eyes though he feared what he knew he would see.
Fortunately there had always been someone nearby, either one or other of his parents or the faithful Lisa, who had prevented him from venturing out. Tonight on Christmas Eve he found himself alone and looking through the window at the falling snow and glancing towards the High Fell he swore he saw her. And then she came to him ….
The Phantom of the Fell
He heard her call and through the window he saw her. Those dark, dark eyes pleading and her outstretched arms beckoning him into her loving embrace. With no one to stop him he left the fireside and put on his coat and ventured outside into the snow. Slowly and weakly but with steely resolve he made his way through the biting wind and thick snow to the haunted ravine.
When his parents awoke Christmas morning they let their son lay in while they prepared the festivities. When Lisa arrived bearing him a special Christmas gift his mother called into his room to see where he was and his absence was discovered. She called her husband who wasted no time in seeking help from his neighbours and they followed his tracks in the snow. They reached the High Fell and found it shrouded in a thick mist which frigid pink sun shone through turning the ravine into a phantasmagoria of ghastly jagged teeth. In the weird light they followed his footprints up to the ravine and pausing looked at one another in hushed silence and then and then entered the dread place.
From the tracks Giles had made they guessed he had become frantic with steps leading back and forth and hither and thither. His father, who was leading the party, suddenly stopped holding up his hand. The tracks ended abruptly at the edge of a cliff he had almost stepped over. After a short discussion it was decided to follow the course of the path which would twist round and pass below the cliff. With growing dread they followed the path to place below the cliff where the grief of his father father and the horror of all present they found his broken body on the path his face frozen in a wild death mask.
The following is a retelling of a Cornish folktale called the Ghost of Rosewarne from Popular Romances of the West of England collected and edited by Robert Hunt.
The Rosewarne Estate
When the De Rosewarnes ran into financial difficulties their own financial advisor, Ezekiel Grosse, gentleman and lawyer, stepped in buying the estate for a pittance. Supposedly, he wanted to save their dignity, but got himself a very good bargain in the process. Maybe the De Rosewarnes were unlucky, but the feeling was they were more than a little naive as there was more than a hint that Ezekiel, as their financial adviser was less than honest in dealing with the transactions of their estate and it all seemed fall so neatly for him.
Nevertheless, as soon as the Rosewarnes moved out he moved in but he did not find things entirely to his liking. At night he heard strange noises in some of the rooms and would rush in to see what was there, but there was always nothing to be seen. Sometimes he heard voices talking in the corridor but there was never anyone there. One night as he lay in bed just, as he was dozing off, he heard footsteps approach his bed. Terrified he pulled the covers over his head but he could still hear people whispering to each other. A cold and unearthly atmosphere pervaded the whole house and most people would have fled in terror, but Ezekiel was determined he would not be chased from his ill-gotten estate by fear of the supernatural.
The Ghost
One evening after dusk as he walked in his garden looking at the fullness of the moon he encountered a very old and worn man who approached him but faded into nothing and was gone in an instant. This happened several times and always in the garden just after dusk. Ezekiel would simply ignore the apparition to begin with but as its appearances increased it also began appearing in the house and became annoying and irritating to him.
One night as Ezekiel was working late in his office the specter appeared and approached him making strange hand signals. Startled and annoyed. Ezekiel jumped from his seat and confronted the ghost.
“What in the name of God do you want of me!” he demanded.
“Ezekiel Grosse, I have come to show you where the Rosewarne gold is hidden. Are you interested?” replied the ghost.
Few people who have walked the Earth have a greater interest in gold than Ezekiel Grosse, yet even he trembled in fear as he faced the ghost listening to its eerie voice. He looked longingly at the dreadful specter desperately wanting to know the secret of the Rosewarne treasure, but hardly daring to breathe let alone speak.
The ghost stared at him through baleful eyes making Exekiel quail and then lifting a bony finger beckoned him to follow. Through his fear, Ezekiel was rooted to the spot and could not move, even though he desperately wanted to follow.
“Come, Ezekiel Grosse,” beckoned the specter again, but Ezekiel was paralyzed.
“Gold, silver, jewels, the Rosewarne treasure, come Ezekiel, come!” whispered the ghost.
“Where, where!” gasped Ezekiel.
“Follow and you will see the treasure of the De Rosewarnes!” but despite his lust Ezekiel was paralyzed with fear and could not move.
“Follow me, I command thee!” shrieked the ghost.
Ezekiel felt his legs move but it was not by his power but that of the ghost and he followed the specter from the house and into the grounds of the house and beyond.
The ghost led him on through the night until they reached a small dell in a distant part of the Rosewarne estate. In the center of the dell a small cairn had been built using granite boulders and here the ghost stopped, pointed to the stones and said,
“Ezekiel Grosse I know your lust for gold for I too once had it. I won more gold than you can imagine and it is all buried here underneath these stones.
Ezekiel Grosse if you would win this gold you will glitter with the evil ones of this world and when you are at your happiest then I will visit you again.”
With that, the ghost disappeared before the fearful, unbelieving eyes of Ezekiel Grosse who stood trembling in a strange mixture of fear and gold lust and the latter won.
“Devil or ghost , I will have the gold” he vowed, but as he spoke an eerie laugh echoed all around him.
Buried Treasure
Ezekiel returned to Rosewarne where he reflected upon all that had happened. He decided that at the earliest possible opportunity he could go about the task unseen and pry up the stones and dig underneath.
Biding his time, but bubbling with restrained excitement, he waited a few days and then at dusk went down to the cairn carrying a large crow bar and began levering the stones up. With this done .he dug up the soil where they had lain. The soil was soft and he soon struck something metallic but the dark was coming down fast and he could barely see. Nevertheless working by touch he cleared the soil and feeling around realized it was an urn of some kind but it was now too dark to see and he had not brought a light. He decided he would carefully recover it, replace the stones and make it look as if it had not been disturbed.
Not wanting to draw attention to himself and trying hard to suppress his excitement he waited for two more nights to pass before he returned to the cairn. This time he was better prepared and quickly moved the stones and dug down to find the urn by the light of lamp he had brought with him. He soon uncovered the urn and found it bigger than he had thought and made of bronze and when he looked inside he saw it was full to the top with gold coins. He tried to lift it out of the hole but it was far too heavy. Instead he filled his pockets with as many coins as he could and then reburied the urn intending to return for the rest the following night.
Returning home to Rosewarne he acted as calm and as nonchalant as he could so as not to cause his servants suspicion. He returned to the cairn the following night and the night after that to bring back the rest of the gold pieces. He was so careful and secretive no one not even his servants had any hint of what he was up to. Indeed, the only noticeable difference that up to yet could be discerned from his activities was that the ghost had ceased to appear and trouble him from the second he had shown the location of the treasure to Ezekiel.
Birds of a Feather
It was with great surprise that the neighbors and nearby gentry looked on in bemusement as Ezekiel spent lavishly of his secret treasure. He made improvements to Rosewarne and filled it with expensive furniture and fittings and began to develop the estate. He even brought himself fine clothes and gave up practicing law making a great show of his new found wealth to his neighbors and associates.
Of course, people being people are attracted to wealth even though he was well known as a person of dubious, greedy and sly character. They say birds of a feather flock together and it proved to be the case at Rosewarne where a flock of gentrified scoundrels gathered around Ezekiel Grosse. Thanks to his money he became something of a celebrity in the locality and people would speak admiringly of his long struggle as a lawyer to make it big, forgetting about all the cheating he had employed in the past.
For his part Ezekiel lived up to the part of the gentleman landowner to the full. He even preached the value of honesty and integrity to his fawning flock and in return received the admiration that is so often given to one who is fabulously rich beyond compare.
All his old tricks and dishonesty were forgotten. and he spent lavishly on entertaining his flock. These entertainments grew increasingly more seductive to those who counted themselves fortunate enough to be among his inner circle of friends. The Lord of Rosewarne, became the Lord of the West who everyone bowed low to – one of the chosen few – who owned more of riches of the Earth than they could ever possibly use, yet still lusted after more.
Christmas Eve
Christmas Eve arrived and Ezekiel gathered together his flock at Rosewarne for a very special evening he had prepare. Their host was relishing being the center of their attention and in the kitchen his servants were all working hard for his pleasure and emulating their superiors in their attitude. Everything was going splendidly and the guests were thoroughly enjoying themselves. Ezekiel looked on and saw the influence his wealth had and he was well pleased.
As he reflected upon his pleasure and power the atmosphere in his hall began to grow cold and everyone stopped dancing and shivered as if someone has walked over their graves. The light became strange and they looked in each other’s faces and saw a deathly paleness and in their eyes the cloud of death.
In the middle of the hall amid the dancers a strange old man appeared with an angry demeanor. No one saw where he came from – he was not there and then he was. The guests moved back from the specter and made a path from him to Ezekiel. The old man stared at Ezekiel in cold, stony, silence. Ezekiel stood transfixed to the spot in terror as the terrible apparition pointed at him. Although it was only for a minute it seemed like an age and then it was gone.
Ezekiel, freed from his paralysis and in an effort to show he was unafraid let out a roar of mocking laughter saying,
“Ha! How do you like my little Christmas play? Scared you all didn’t it? Ha, you look like terrified rabbits! Butler pass around the mulled wine. Come, my friends, dance on, be very merry! It was nought but a little play to entertain you all!”
His guests were deeply disconcerted with the appearance of the old man and try as he might Ezekiel couldn’t rouse them to dance, or laughter. An overpowering atmosphere of unhomeliness remained that made everyone feel uncomfortable. One by one, they made their excuses, bid him him a false Merry Christmas and left well and truly satisfied that all was not well at Rosewarne.
Turning Point
His Christmas Eve party was a turning point in the fortunes and popularity of Ezekiel Grosse. He put on an air of nonchalance and gaiety as if the incident had never happened but his friends had not forgotten and were convinced of its reality. He organized more parties and balls but each and every time the same aged old man would appear silently out of nowhere in their midst and staring coldly, point at him. He never said a word but the sheer aura of power he exuded made everyone dare not to utter a single word, or indeed, hardly breathe.
Ezekiel would make up all manner of lies to explain the incidents. He would claim the old man was an old friend with a mental impairment that he had represented as a lawyer, who was also deaf and dumb. As he tried to explain, the old man would stand before him, point at him and laugh maniacally and joyfully in his face and then vanish leaving an extremely unpleasant atmosphere of unhomeliness.
His friends made excuses and left despite the earliness of the night and refused to attend his lavish events. They began to avoid and shun him leaving him all alone. Whereas once he had been the center of their attention, now he was alone despite all of the finery of Rosewarne and his great wealth. The only friend that remained to him was a man named John Call who was his faithful clerk.
The oppressive presence of the specter increased more and more and was so strong it did not just remain in the house but followed him outside of it. Everywhere he went the old man appeared at his side and although he could see it others saw nothing but nevertheless felt its presence.
Shunned
Ezekiel went from being the most sought after and finest gentleman in the county to being completely shunned and avoided by the gentry. He grew pale and miserable and walked with a drooping back. He became the very personification of misery and being in terror all the time, jumped in alarm at the slightest thing.
Eventually, he began to beg his spectral companion to leave him alone. To begin with the ghost would not listen seeming content to watch him suffer. At last the ghost told him that he would set him free on the condition that Ezekiel hand the entire Rosewarne estate and his treasure to the person that he selected and that a proper legal contract would be drawn up to make the deal binding. Ezekiel readily agreed but when the ghost indicated that it was John Call who would be the benefactor, he began to try to twist and get out of the contract. The ghost would not allow him to get away with it and shortly the deal was done and John Call became the master of the Rosewarne estate and its treasure.
The Revenge of the De Rosewarnes
After Ezekiel had been legally dispossessed of the estate and treasure the ghost revealed that he was an ancestor of the Rosewarnes and it had been he who had built their fortune. When he had been a young man he had traveled much and traded in foreign lands and accumulated much wealth, but the lust for gold had got the better of him. Instead of passing it on to his family he had hidden it before he died intending no one else to benefit.
Now he had been sent back to atone for his greed and to punish Ezekiel for fraudulently obtaining the Rosewarne estate and putting its rightful owners into poverty. The punishment had consisted of the systematic gratifying of his greed, the pampering of his pride until he reached the highest point in society and then causing him to be shunned and avoided. His status was systematically destroyed making a pitiful exhibition of him for all to see and the estate taken from him and given to a more deserving man.
Ezekiel did not live much longer in misery after that. He was found dead and it was said that it was a violent death with reports of deep scratches and dark bruising all over his body. Some even say the specter of Rosewarne was seen leading a group of demons that came and bore away the soul of Ezekiel Grosse. They heard him laugh all through that night having revenged his family and righted a wrong, though whether this freed the soul of the Ghost of Rosewarne from his own doom, we do not know.
Under the influence! 