Savernake Forest. The name itself conjures images of gnarled oaks, dappled sunlight, and the rustling whispers of centuries past. Wyrd Wessex recently ventured into this historic woodland in search of its secrets, and what we discovered was a fascinating blend of folklore, eerie encounters, and the lingering presence of history.
Our journey began in the afternoon, allowing us to appreciate the grandeur of Savernake's ancient trees. The Cathedral Oak, a giant of over a thousand years old, stands as a silent witness to countless generations. It's humbling to think that this tree was just a sapling when Saxons and Danes clashed, and that Alfred the Great himself may have passed through these very woods. Then there's the Big Belly Oak, even older than the Cathedral Oak, its girth so immense it requires iron bands to hold it together. Legend has it that dancing around this ancient giant at midnight, anti-clockwise, will summon the devil himself. (We opted to skip that particular ritual, given the proximity to the main road and the chilly evening air.)
As dusk began to settle, casting long shadows through the trees, we ventured onto Grand Avenue, a four-mile stretch carved through the heart of the forest by Capability Brown. This impressive avenue has its own spectral resident: a headless horsewoman, said to gallop along the path on a white steed. The tale suggests she was decapitated by a low-hanging branch, though later versions, perhaps fueled by local pride, tried to link her to Jane Seymour. We can safely say that's unlikely, as Jane Seymour met her end far from Savernake.
But Grand Avenue isn't the only place in Savernake whispered to be haunted. Black dogs, those spectral canines of folklore, are said to stalk the edges of the forest. One such creature, described as large and shaggy with eyes like burning coals, is said to haunt Dean Waterbottom. Another black dog is associated with a nearby hotel, a place also rumored to be frequented by a Victorian gentleman in a pipe cap and a sad-eyed girl. The hotel also reportedly experiences poltergeist activity, with taps turning on and off and pumps mysteriously activating in the night.
Our exploration also led us to a fascinating story from Kathleen Wiltshire's "Ghosts and Legends of the Wiltshire Countryside": the tale of a "ghost house." This wasn't a house haunted by ghosts, but a house that was a ghost. The story goes that a family rented a cottage in Savernake, only to discover it was the remaining servant's quarters of a grand coaching inn that had burned down decades earlier. The children, without any prior knowledge, could describe the layout of the original inn, a layout that proved accurate when researched. It's a chilling example of how the past can imprint itself on a place.
Perhaps the most unsettling story we encountered came from the unlikeliest of sources: Mumsnet. A woman pet-sitting at a small holding on the edge of the forest heard her chickens in a frenzy. Going to investigate, she saw a black shape dart from the house into the woods. While searching for what she assumed was the owner's puppy, she heard rustling in the trees, and muttered to herself “Jesus, I don't need this”.
To which came a snickering voice whispering in her left ear, "Do not say that now," and then a booming command: "Go, run, go now!" She fled back to the house, terrified, only to find the puppy had never left. What was the black shape? What was the voice? The story leaves a lingering sense of unease, a reminder that the true mysteries of the forest may never be fully understood.
Savernake Forest, with its towering trees and its rich history, holds a special place in the folklore of Wessex. While some of the tales may be more legend than fact, they contribute to the forest's unique atmosphere, a place where the whispers of the past seem to echo through the trees, reminding us that we are not the first, nor will we be the last, to walk beneath its ancient canopy.
Check out Episode 8 of the Wyrd Wessex podcast to hear our trip to Savernake here
Or head to our Youtube channel to watch here