As I carefully folded back the neatly cut turf, it was as if I had opened up a portal to the Bronze Age...
I do not know exactly what happened that night. One person on their own might have imagined it, but when two people simultaneously witness the same event there has to be something to it...
It was the last thing that I expected to see in the Shropshire countryside. It was futile to try and run, as I was no match for the power and agility of the animal that stood before me...
Buckingham's eyes fixed upon the old man like a hawk after its prey: "May a curse be upon thee for thy treachery," he snarled....
Poor old Mrs Brown's house took a direct hit. I laughed as her wooden leg came flying over the rooftops, clattering as it bounced off the rusty corrugated roof of our toilet at the bottom of the garden...
A rather large. well-endowed lady appeared in the doorway. Why I suddenly thought about Zeppelins I can't imagine...
John had not believed me when I told him that a Mr Crapper had invented the flush toilet, so it came as no surprise that he would not believe the origin of Zippo lighters...
The Ghost of Bannister's Wood
As the first rays of sun appeared over the hill, the mist that had hung like a veil began to disperse. The quiet of the early morning was shattered as a pheasant flew up, startled by the sound of a breaking twig. Cursing silently, the Roundhead Captain stood motionless - nothing stirred. Satisfied that he still held the element of surprise, he waved his men forward.
Deep amongst the foliage, the Duke of Buckingham was unaware of the maelstrom of death that would soon descend upon him.
Though used to the deprivations of a soldier's life, the night had been cold and uncomfortable. He eased his aching back with his elbow and stretched his leg to relieve the cramp.
As he gazed at the remnants of his loyal troops, a great sadness overwhelmed him. Their Royalist cause had met with ignominious defeat upon the bloody battlefield of Worcester. Now they were pursued like common outlaws, by Cromwell's troops.
Given refuge by a Royalist sympathiser, he awaited his old manservant, Bannister, who would bring them food and drink for their journey.
A Cruel Betrayal
The peace of their haven was suddenly filled with sounds that now encompassed them. Crowded together, Buckingham's men stood little chance as the muskets opened up their murderous fire.
The wounded tried to free themselves from beneath the bodies of dead comrades, as grapeshot scattered flesh amongst fern and bramble.
In a heroic impulse, Buckingham leapt over a fallen log, his sword arching high above his head. With a flash of steel, the blade struck the Roundhead's neck, almost severing his head from his body. Fighting like a man possessed, he cut down all who opposed him. The carnage continued as the cries of men in the last agonies of death filled his ears.
Leaning against a tree for support, a musket ball creased his skull, removing all sensation from him. Lost in a darkened world of unconsciousness, he fell to the ground.
All was quiet when he regained his senses. Though he was aware of shapes before him, he could see them with no clarity. Unceremoniously, rough hands hauled him to his feet.
As he gazed into the sneering face of the Roundhead Captain, he felt the warm, sticky blood flow down his face.
"Come, my Lord Buckingham, Cromwell will be pleased to see you. And to you Master Bannister, Cromwell shall hear of your loyalty."
Buckingham's eyes fixed upon the old man like a hawk after its prey: "May a curse be upon thee for thy treachery," he snarled.
Two weeks later, the old man was found hanging in the wood, which to this day bears his name. Whether he had met his fate by his own hand or another's, we shall never know. Three months' later his wife and daughter died of the plague. It seems Buckingham had wreaked his revenge.
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