Halloween Costume Ideas: West Country Special

Thinking of dressing up for Halloween this year? Perhaps you’ve been invited to a spooky costume party, or you need some creative suggestions for your band of trick-or-treaters? Toad Hall Cottages has opened the cobwebbed crypts and wandered down the dark and creepy lanes to gather together a cauldron of West Country-themed Halloween costume ideas sure to give you goosebumps.

Dartmoor’s Hairy Hands

Let’s start with one of Dartmoor’s favourite scary stories, the grizzly and spine-chilling legend of the Hairy Hands. People travelling across the moors between Postbridge and Two Bridges have given alarming accounts involving a pair of monstrous hands, sprouting thick black hairs, grabbing their steering wheel and skidding them off the road. And it’s not just motorists who have experienced this terrifying and centuries-old phenomenon, cyclists, coachmen, and farmers riding pony traps have all described similar gruesome occurrences while journeying along this haunted throughfare.

The Mermaid of Zennor

When Cornishman Mathy Trewhella heard the sweet song of a beautiful and mysterious woman with emerald-green eyes resonating from the church pews behind him, he felt utterly compelled to be in her presence. One day, the handsome, young chorister’s curiosity led him out of Zennor Church – while the parson gave his benediction – in pursuit of the elegant and enigmatic maiden with the free-flowing, golden locks who had captured his heart but would always vanish before the congregation began to disperse. Mathy hurried down the cliff path towards the beach following her barefoot prints in the sand towards the shoreline of Pendower Cove. He was never seen again. His family were distraught, and the entire village mourned his disappearance.

Two years had passed when in the light of the moon, a ship’s captain whose vessel was anchored off Pendower Cove heard an enchanting voice calling out “Ship ahoy!” from the starboard waters. He looked overboard and saw a mermaid with emerald-green eyes and shimmering, golden locks. “Haul up your anchor” she proclaimed, “it lies buried in the seabed and bars the entrance to my home, and I must return to my Mathy and our children”. Full of reverence for the mermaid, as is the way of sailors, the captain replied, “Forgive me sweet maid of the sea, I shall pull anchor immediately. Forgive my intrigue, but who is the Mathy you speak of?” “Mathy Trewhella” replied the mermaid, “my handsome lover who followed me into the sea”. Soon the captain’s extraordinary account was heard all over Zennor and the mystery behind the disappearance of Mathy Trewhella was solved.

Visit Zennor Church and you’ll see a wood carving on one of the benches of the Mermaid of Zennor, and, on dreamy, starlit nights her mellifluous songs are said to be heard echoing around the waters of Pendower Cove along with the harmonies of her sweetheart, Mathy.

The Blue Lady of Berry Pomeroy Castle

Buried deep in the woods, not far from the Elizabethan market town of Totnes, Berry Pomeroy Castle is said to be one of the South West’s most haunted ruins. It was the seat of the influential Pomeroy family since the Norman Conquests and is riddled deep in ghostly tales and paranormal encounters. One such story is the harrowing account of the Blue Lady of Pomeroy, said to haunt the crumbled courtyards and parapets of this once opulent 16th century manor house. She is a daughter of the Pomeroy dynasty who, having become pregnant by her own incestuous father, smothered her new-born in shame and desperation – her tormented spirit left to wander the ruins at night plagued by guilt and everlasting remorse. A deeply disturbing and tragic story that still resonates today.

The Beast of Bodmin

Strange and unexplained sightings of a phantom cat-like creature prowling along the hedges and across the misty tors of Bodmin Moor have baffled both locals and experts for decades. Some believe there are big cats roaming this magnificent landscape, let loose on the moors by those who once kept them as status symbols. Although there isn’t conclusive proof that the Beast of Bodmin actually exists, reports keep registering of freakishly large, black felines slinking along the verges along with the telling remains of livestock.

The Dartmoor Beast

From stalking black panthers to lions with golden manes, when it comes to the beasts of Dartmoor the stories are varied and many. Some say it’s not a big cat at all, but a supernatural, shapeshifting werewolf with slashing claws that roams the plains and wooded valleys. Enormous paw prints have been found in the undergrowth and set in the boggy paths, far too large to belong to a deer, fox, or badger. The devil dog of Houndtor is one example of Dartmoor’s many beastly legends, a large shaggy-coated creature spotted weaving through the bracken and across the rocky slopes. Who really knows what lurks down in the dripping, dark dells and granite grottos.

The Pirate Ghost of Willy Wilcox

Fleeing the local dragoon and sheriffs, 18th century smuggler, Willy Wilcox, squeezed into a cave along the shores of Polperro. It’s believed that poor old Willy got trapped in the craggy clenches and was smothered by the incoming tide. His body was never discovered but his ghost is said to haunt the caves along the Polperro Heritage Coast, still searching for his illicit stash. Maritime history buffs will enjoy the area’s colourful smuggling past, which at its zenith was so accomplished Polperro even had its own “smugglers’ banker”, a local merchant known as Zephaniah Job. What’s believed to be the ghost of Willy Wilcox was accidently caught on camera by a holidaymaker exploring the Cornish caves who was startled by a spectral figure standing in the half-light. Willy Wilcox is a real-life Jack Sparrow.

The Witch of Vixen Tor

Centuries ago, the mere utterance of the name “Vixen Tor” was enough to give the most hardened moorland folk a severe bout of the collywobbles. Also known as “The Sphinx of Dartmoor”, it was once the home of an old witch by the name of Vixiana who dwelled in a granite cave at the tor’s foot, said to be cleaved by creatures from the underworld. Descriptions of Vixiana fall very much into the tired, archetypal trope that served only to persecute and subjugate woman who possessed fervent countryside wisdom and powers of healing; skinny as a rake handle, a shepherd’s crook nose, teeth like an abandoned graveyard, a festering odour of weasel urine…I think you get the twisted patriarchal portrait.

Villagers believed she hated everything that dared to cross her, and the legend goes that she would wait for lone wayfarers to stray from the path before summoning a thick and swirling mist to engulf them. She would then call out to them, luring them into a fathom-deep mire, watching their helpless struggle and cackling at their desperate screams. Vixiana finally met her demise at the hands of a youthful moorlander called Oakey who had been blessed by piskies and had in his possession a magic ring that could make him invisible. This, along with a gift to see through even the densest of fogs, allowed him to outfox Vixiana and push her off the edge of the tor into the claggy bog below where she met her agonising fate.

Happy Halloween from all at Toad Hall Cottages!