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30 July 2026

Welcome to issue 40 of Tales from the Chase, a fortnightly publication exploring the landscapes, folklore, hidden histories and strange corners of Cranborne Chase. Including odd tales. Mildly strange goings-on. Definitely strange, occasionally amusing, and always assembled with care — delivered straight to your inbox every other Thursday. Was this email forwarded to you? You can sign up for free by clicking below!

welcome Back, strange companions

This week's edition is a little later than planned and a little shorter than normal. That's largely because Hubert has gone missing, which is inconvenient, though admittedly not unprecedented. Until he turns up, there's no misanthrope's Guide to Farnham. But still, we have an intriguing find from the Forgotten Footpath Society archives and one of Isla's usual old and strange stories. Read on.

Old English and Older Cattle

I came across the following in the Society's archive, recording a walk across Chettle Common to Bloody Shard Gate. Not a particularly eventful or dramatic walk by FFS standards, but a curious account nonetheless.

Archive Ref. 2023/03 Subject: Walk to Bloody Shard Gate across Chettle Common.

Classification: Curious. Repeat visit recommended.

Walk led by Elspeth Thorne. Percy, Marge, Wilf and Connie joined. Walked from Chettle to the Gate. After sketching bowl barrow 130m south without incident, attempted to return from the Gate to Chettle on the same route.

However, the unmapped hollow lane followed on the outward journey (unusual autumnal light; smell of woodsmoke; faint sounds of distant cheering at one point near the end) was absent on return, so the normal paths shown on the Ordnance Survey map were used.

Noted that cattle on the Common on return appeared to be of a different and older breed than on the outward journey.

Wilf attempted conversation in Old English with one of the cows. Elspeth advised against it and Wilf withdrew.

Tea consumed at Chettle; grievances and anomalies discussed. Discrepancies unresolved.

Addendum 18 July 2025: Wilf has become increasingly tiresome on the subject of the cattle, repeatedly claiming he was subject to a restriction on lawful expression in a public place.

Elspeth states that her advice fell under the Society's standing protocol of minimising unnecessary verbal contact with livestock of fluctuating provenance in the vicinity of vanishing ancient tracks.

She adds that it was offered as ‘firm guidance’ in her capacity as walk leader responsible for the safety of the group and was not censorship, and that Wilf remains entirely at liberty to address any cattle he wishes, at a time and place of his own choosing, in any language living or dead, and entirely at his own risk; but not on her watch.

Update March 2026: After further and persistent representations from Wilf, the Society considers the matter closed. This is in the sense that nothing further is likely to be agreed upon, rather than in the sense that anything has actually been settled.

For the avoidance of doubt, Wilf is not invited to Elspeth's birthday drinks at the Horseshoe, nor to the FFS annual barbecue in August.

Thorn and the boundary between worlds

A curious tale of Bloody Shard Gate

by Isla Cobb

The keepers and the poachers who met at Bloody Shard Gate in December 1780, with staves and flails and one man who did not walk home, did not name the gate. The name was already old.

What that name does not record is Thorn.

This is not a full account of Thorn, in part because I do not have one, and in part because the partial accounts that I know of do not agree. Whether Thorn was understood to be a man, a spirit, or some other type of guardian, I cannot say.

What can be said, with reasonable confidence, is that Thorn kept, and maybe still keeps, the ancient boundary between what are now the parishes of Farnham and Tarrant Gunville.

The story, such as it survives, goes something like this.

There was a gate in the boundary even in the far off days before the land was settled by the first people to come to the Chase. It was not just a gate across the landscape, allowing passage from one side to the other; it was also a gate to a third place, often called the Elsewhere. Why a boundary between two parcels of the Chase should also open onto the Elsewhere is not a question any of my sources could answer.

In the long-ago depths of time something came through that gate, a visitor from beneath the ground and beyond the stars. The nature of this visitor is elusive, unnamed and never described.

Why it came is also not recorded. What is recorded in stories, passed down through word of mouth, is that Thorn met this visitor at the boundary, because that is where Thorn is, and Thorn does not have anywhere else to be.

Thorn was carrying his knife of flint, its edge sharper than steel, harder than frost.

Thorn's task was never to keep everything out. Boundaries of this kind are porous by design; things pass all ways, and mostly no harm comes of it other than a little oddness, strangeness. But Thorn was especially careful about the things that visit from beneath the earth and beyond the stars.

(This tale speaks of beneath the earth and beyond the stars in the same breath, as though those two places are somehow adjacent. That is a surprisingly sophisticated idea for what purports to be a rustic legend.)

Thorn felt that what this visitor intended was not to pass through but to stay.

The visitor is never described as wicked, demonic or monstrous. It may have been one, all or none of those things; the tale does not say. Nor does the tale explain how Thorn reaches his judgement. He simply knows.

All accounts agree that first he first challenged the visitor and ordered it to return whence it came. It would not. So he struck the visitor with his knife of flint. The knife broke the way flint breaks, into pieces that kept their own sharp edges even in ruin.

(Two of my three sources insist the visitor spoke before it was struck. They are so vague about what it said that I will not record it here).

The visitor came apart in a cloud of stars, small and bright and briefly visible even by daylight, going up and out and away from the gate in every direction.

Thorn, cut by the flying shards of his own shattered knife, remained standing but bleeding, and watched as the lights went out one at a time. Satisfied, he gathered up what he could of the broken knife and pressed the pieces into the ground around the gate, one by one, setting each one edge-up.

And some say the ground roundabout the gate for some way still turns up sharp flakes of flint, close to the surface, edge-up as if freshly placed.

Thorn has not been seen or heard of since.

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