Dicky of Tunsted.
The physical peculiarities of the Northern Division of Derbyshire - its trackless moors and mountain fastnesses, which operate against vicinal intercourse - render it a district in which credulous superstition will have an abiding place longer than perhaps any other locality in England. Of this may be instanced the very current tradition of Dicky of Tunsted, or the invisible speaker. By consulting the chronicles engraved on the mental tablets of the inhabitants of Chapel-le-Frith and vicinity, it is found that a few generations ago, an eccentric woman, who, from the peculiarities of her intellect and station had been dubbed with the cognomen Dicky, died in the capacity of scullion to a worthy farmer at Tunsted, near Chapel-en-le-Frith, and was buried at Taxel.
The night after the funeral, the inmates of the house where poor Dicky lived and died were alarmed by hearing as it were from every room the exclamation "Fetch Dicky!" unceasingly repeated, and in such a manner that convinced them the speaker had thrown off the "mortal coil." Time passed on, but there was no relaxation in the imperative request of their invisible visitant; in every room, in the outbuildings connected with the mansion, might be heard, a hundred times each night, the clearly and distinctly articulated words, "Fetch Dicky! fetch Dicky!" It was eventually suggested to the terribly perplexed occupants of the haunted house that it was the ghost of their servant Dicky that tormented them to have its earthly remains removed from Taxel churchyard to the house of its sojourn on earth.
The bones of Dicky were removed from the churchyard and deposited in a cheesevat, on which there were no more terrifying noises heard for some time. On a strange family coming to the house they found the remains of Dicky, which they caused to be reinterred, but "Fetch Dicky! fetch Dicky!" was heard every night with increasing solicitude. Perplexed and wearied, the strange occupants of the house caused the disinterment of Dicky's bones, and they were placed in the cheesevat, as they had been for unnumbered years previously, when the voice of the invisible speaker ceased again.
Of the remains of Dicky the skull is still preserved, which any one who may pass through Tunsted may see is the old cheesevat, at the house where it has been preserved some three or four generations. It is of an almost mirror-like brightness and is valued as an heirloom of extraordinary consequence. - Correspondent.
Derby an dChesterfield Reporter, 7th March 1845.
On the right, in the little hamlet between the Great Rocks and Tunstead, James Brindley, the eminent engineer, was born. But it is not only as the birth-place of Brindley, the engineer, of whom so admirable a life has been written by Smiles, that Tunstead is famous in story, for it has a miraculous skull, whose exploits have formed the theme for many a verse and many a page of prose-writing.
This human skull, preserved at a farm-house at Tunstead, has been there for several generations, and nothing is known as to how or whence it came there. It is known as 'Dickie', or 'Dicky o' Tunstead,' and occupies a position on a window-seat of the house. 'No matter what changes take place to the other occupiers of the house,' says Mr Jewett, in his 'Ballads and Songs of Derbyshire,' 'Dickie' holds his own against all comers, and remains quietly ensconced in his favourite place. It is firmly and persistently believed that so long as Dick remains in the house unburied, everything will go on well and prosperously, but that if he is buried, or "discommoded," unpleasant consequences will assuredly follow.
On more than one occasion he has been put "out of sight," but tempests have arisen and injured the building, deaths have ensued, cattled have been diseased and died off, or crops have failed, until the people have been humbled, and restored him to his proper place. One of the crowning triumphs of Dickie's power is said to have been evinced over the formation of the new Buxton and Whaley Bridge line of railway. He seems to have held the project in thorough hatred, and let no opportunity pass of doing damage. Whenever there was a landslip or a sinking of ground, or whenever any mishap to man, beast or line, happened, the credit was at once given to Dickie, and he was sought to be propitiated in a variety of ways.
Hutchinson, who wrote "A Tour, through the High Peak," in 1807, thus speaks of the skull, and of the supernatural powers attributed to it: "Having heard a singular account of a human skull being preserved in a house in Tunstead, near the above place, and which was said to be haunted, curiosity induced me to deviate a little for the purpose of making some inquiries respecting these natural or super-natural appearance, it is not my design either to affirm or contradict, though I have been informed by a creditable person, a Mr Adam Fox, who was brought up in the house, that he has not only repeatedly heard singular noises, and observed very singular circumstances, but can produce fifty persons, within the parish, who have seen an apparition at this place. He has often found the doors opening to his hand - the servants have been repeatedly called up in the morning - many good offices have been done by the apparition, at different times; and, in fact, it is looked upon more as a guardian spirit than as a terror to the family, never disturbing them but in case of an approaching death of a relation or a neighbour, and showing its resentment only when spoken of with disrespect, or when its own awful memorial of mortality is removed. For twice within the memory of man, the skull has been taken from the premises, once on building the present house on the site of the old one, and another time when it was buried in Chapel churchyard; but there was no peace! no rest! it must be replaced!
Venerable time carries a report that one of two coheiresses residing here was murdered, and declared, in her last moments, that her bones should remain on the place for ever.
On examining the parts of the skull, they did not appear to be in the least decayed.
On this head the candid reader will think for himself; my duty is only faithfully to relate what I have been told. However, the circumstances of the skull being traced to have remained on the premises during the changes of different tenants and purchasers for near two centuries, must be a subject well worth the antiquarian's research, and often more than the investigation of a bust or a coin."
- A History of Derbyshire. By John Pendleton. 1886.
'Dicky,'
is a skull, or rather the remains of one, and his domicile is Tunstead
Farm between Chapel-en-le-Frith and Whaley Bridge. Who 'Dicky' belonged
to when, literally, in the flesh, is a debated question. One story has
it that, at one time, the farm was in possession of two sisters,
coheiresses. One of these, being foully done to death, besought, even
declared, in her dying moments that her skull should for ever remain in
the house.
Another story is, that this skull is that of a gallant soldier, Ned
Dickson, who went to the wars, and, on his return unscathed, found his
relatives had quietly taken possession of his house and effects; on very
naturally wanting to know the reason of the invasion, he was promptly
murdered by them and buried under the floor.
Both these tales have weak points; the first makes the skull a woman's;
then why 'Dicky'? The second makes it that of a man, but it is, without a
shadow of a doubt, the skull of a female. However, this last story has
the weight of local belief behind it.
'Dicky' is an univiting looking object, consisting of three fragments, two parietal and one clavical. In colour he is a fine rich shade of olive green, shaded at the edges with brown with white spots; he looks so very innocent that all the tales they tell of him seem as though they must be gross libels.
'Dicky' was kindly lent to me for purposes of portraiture in the garden of his domicile, and is shown in fig. 1. His home is in a cold-looking old-fashioned farmhouse situated on the slopes of Combs Edge, and is shown in fig. 2, the window in which he must be kept (not only is kept), being that under the white X.
The present generation profess not to believe in him or his works, but there is an undercurrent of superstitious doubt which caused Mr. Dixon to tell me, on my request for permission to photograph him, that he must ask the 'missus' first. The result was entirely satisfactory to me, though I was momentarily expecting some show of violent antipathy (on 'Dicky's' part) to facing the camera. Whether the present owners believe in him or not, it is a fact that only a year or two ago the loan of 'Dicky' was requested for a side show and additional attraction to a bazaar then being held in the Church schools at Chapel-en-le-Frith. His owners knowing, however, his mischievous reputation, consented only on the strict understanding that he was safely returned to his accustomed window corner before sunset. At this point negotiations were broken off, both sides feeling, probably, that they were best off as they were, so 'Dicky' did not enjoy the unaccustomed gaiety of a church bazaar!
Two of 'Dicky's' special qualifications, other than that for mischief, are his immunity to decay, and the fact that no dust ever accumulates on him.
[...] The prevailing idea has always been that provided 'Dicky' was propitiated, by being left in undisturbed possession of his window ledge, all would be well with the inhabitants of the house and denizens of the farmyard. He is then safe from doing damage, and, in fact, will make himself very useful.
[...] Among 'Dicky's' pleasing traits are his habits of calling servants or other early risers, saddling the horses prior to a journey, giving notice of cows about to calve, and of cattle who were in danger on stormy nights. In fact, 'Dicky' pleased is an angel, while with his wrath aroused he is just the opposite.
Not many years ago he took a violent dislike to the railway, which was
so arranged that, when complete, it would pass close to the house. At
one place the engineers had decided to carry the track over the road.
'Dicky,' however, decided that they shouldn't, so as fast as they
erected the arch, 'Dicky' sent the whole thing tumbling down again - he
was annoyed. Finally the line was diverted, but that did not altogether
appease 'Dicky,' for a series of landslips and subsidences occurred for
some time after.
Once, only once, 'Dicky' was forcibly ejected from his home, during the
rebuilding of the house. Before long a spectre appeared, to the
consternation of the workmen, and morning after morning the work of the
day before was damaged; all day long, as they worked, no matter how
noisily, a moaning was distinctly heard. 'Dicky' was therefore sought
for and replaced, after which the work of rebuilding progressed apace.
[...] Hutchinson, in his Tour of the Peak, written in 1807, says:--
[...] a Mr. Adam Fox, who was brought up in the house, has not only
repeatedly heard singular noises, and observed very singular
circumstances, but can produce fifty persons within the parish who have
seen an apparition at this place. He has often found the doors opening
to his hand, the servants have been repeatedly called up of a morning,
many good offices have been done by the apparition at different times,
and, in fact, it is looked upon more as a guardian spirit than a terror
to the family, never disturbing them but in case of an approaching death
of a relation or neighbour, and showing its resentment only when spoken
of with disrespect, or when its own awful memorial of mortality is
removed. Twice within the memory of man the skull has been taken from
the premises - once on building the present house on the site of the old
one, and another time when it was buried in Chapel churchyard - but
there was no peace! no rest! It must be replaced.
[...] I have talked about 'Dicky' to a great many people who have heard
of him, and in some cases known him for years; they all say just the
same when asked their opinion; they say 'I don't believe in him, and yet - there must
be something." This, I think, fairly represents local feeling towards
him. There is no absolute dread of him, but there is an undercurrent of
superstition which makes people regard him as more than ordinary, less
than dangerous, and, on the whole, too curious and mysterious to be
passed by with contempt. [...]
From G. Le Blanc Smith's article in The Reliquary for 1905.
A Derbyshire Skull Superstition.
A member of the Derbyshire Archaeological and Historical Society writes: - "Referring to your query in Historical Gleanings for 5th February, the following are a few up-to-date notes on Dicky, of Tunstead: Dicky's skull is carefully preserved in an upstairs window seat at Tunstead, and will be shown to any visitor by the occupier, Mr Dixon, (who is also the owner) or his family.
Hutchinson's statement as to the murdered heiress's declaration that she would remain there for ever tallies with that of the owner's wife, which is that the lady vowed she would stay at Tunstead 'while holly's green.'
The skull is in three portions, 'which never need dusting.' A surgeon some four or five years ago examined the skull, and pronounced it to be that of a female about eighteen years of age - so far confirming the 'heiress' story. At the back of the skull is a clean-cut circular hole - such as might have been caused by a pick or pointed weapon, or possibly a bullet fired at some distance.
It is a well-known fact that Dicky, objecting to new-fangled ideas, would not allow the railway to pass through his land without protest, and a blocked-up road with a new road and bridge made at great expense testify to his powers. The railway engineers say 'quicksands,' but Dicky has the credit locally.
I have spoken with several people - some still living - who have heard Dicky's skirts rustling in the house or lane, or who have been disturbed by howling winds and thunder - unheard by others - when Dicky has been left downstairs at night, or, as once was the case, when he was taken away - the borrowers being troubled in the same way till the skull was returned. I think some of Dicky's doings are not talked about, and these notes are written with every respect to his dignity!
There is no doubt about the local belief in Dicky, and it is somewhat curious that within a very short distance is another well-authenticated apparition (if an apparition can be authenticated).
Dicky apparently never leaves Tunstead of his own free will, and if taken away makes trouble till he is returned. He is not, however, so clever as the skulls at Calgarth Hall, near Windermere, which returned home themselves after being thrown in the lake. Dicky's neighbour is a wanderer, and may be seen by those to whom it is given to see visions over quite a large area. Its favourite appearance seems to be as a huge, but good-tempered dog (some say an animal like a black calf), who walks in the spring-time somewhere about the ides of March. Unfortunately, at present, the clue to these appearances has not been discovered, and the whole question should be interesting to searchers in psychology.
Dicky, if Hutchinson is correct - and I think he must be - was at Tunstead long before the Dixons came there, and they have held the farm for over a century.
I suggest, with diffidence, that most of these ghostly 'happenings' are capable of a material solution, but have been magnified from natural to supernatural attributes by a species of suggestion. Can these stories, which are gravely repeated, arise in some far back tale (its origin long since forgotten) about some pre-historic race who undoubtedly peopled these hills, and some of whose descendants perhaps haunted the primaeval forest when first the Anglo-Saxon Kings appropriated it as a hunting ground."
Derbyshire Times, 5th March 1910
