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I recently stumbled upon this most interesting book by Alan L.Molt called East Somerset Romantic Routes & Mysterious Byways.
It's an enthralling book on folklore and travel within our region.
Chapter 3 tells the tale of how the quarry I was working at got it's name....
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Of course, there have been exaggerations and additions to the actual event of the never forgotten night
about which I’m about to tell you, but that is inevitable. Howbeit, it is not in me to give other than the unvarnished truth,
but even so, it does not in any way make the event less sinister, and certainly does not diminish the idea of supernatural or
paranormal activity. Facts are sometimes stranger than fiction.
No surnames are to be mentioned concerning the events surrounding Bull’s green or Dead Woman’s Bottom, for the simple reason
that far too many surnames have been given me already, and since only three persons were involved fact must have at some time
given place to the legend. However, the actual event is beyond doubt..
When a young lady came to live at Bull’s Green in about 1850 she appeared, to young and old alike, as something out of this world.
She had a wonderful powerful presence, walked with a certain air of sophistication and was always delicately dressed.
She had lovely big eyes, which not only took in all about her, but also captivated those who looked into them. Her golden hair was
thick and alive and fell in billowy folds over her shoulders, and her skin was as soft as velvet.
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Where she had come from no one seemed to know, and no one seemed troubled to ask, but very soon she was
universally spoken of, and was the centre of conversation wherever two or three were gathered together.
It is said that when she went to the fair at Whatley on her first visit, interest in all other things seemed to melt into nothingness
compared with having a glimpse of her. And yet, It must be said, she never flaunted herself or went out of her way to attract others.
She simply possessed a natural charm, which, if I may use the term, bewitched people. Just to hear her say, “ Good morning” or
“Good afternoon”, accompanied by an unrestricted smile, was to hear and see the exceptional. Obviously people, and especially men,
were soon finding excuses to go to her door. All of them were entertained in a perfectly refined manner. Never was there anything
unbecoming in her conduct to give the least impression she was less than ladylike. In fact, she behaved so perfectly that every
gentleman who went to her door, on whatever pretext was soon made aware of it. Mary, for that was her name, was the perfect lady,
unadulterated in every way. But the other ladies in the village would have none of it.
continue....
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