The Storyteller: The haunting legend of a restless mayor

Nothing pleases me more than when someone contacts me regarding some research I’ve done or a story I’ve told, wanting to pick my brains to further their own knowledge, especially if they put a camera or microphone in front of me. 

Just the other week, I found myself in front of yet another camera being filmed by Rufus and Matt for a film they are making about Benjamin Geare, who was elected mayor of Okehampton an impressive five times but he didn’t get to serve his fifth term...

Benjie is a character that I talk about during my Ghost Walk around the town. He was obviously a real person but he has become much maligned in Dartmoor folklore since his death in 1701, becoming one of those figures who has been forced to perform an impossible task in the afterlife and whose spirit has not been allowed to rest. 

His memorial plaque has been preserved in the vestry of All Saints Church, being one of the few that survived the destructive fire of 1842, unlike that of the Cavalier, Sydney Godolphin, who famously haunts The Three Crowns Hotel in Chagford, having died there during the English Civil War, but was buried in the chancel of All Saints and subsequently moved during the rebuilding after said fire to who knows where. 

Above: Benjamin Geare's memorial plaque

During the course of my research, I followed Sydney’s trail to the church and when the vicar, ably assisted by Pete the church warden, very kindly allowed me access as part of my walks the legend of Benjie Geare became one of the stories that I regularly shared there.

When Rufus and Matt contacted Pete about Benjie’s connection to the church with a view to hopefully seeing his memorial, he directed them to me saying I was very knowledgeable about the subject and they should get in touch...which is why they turned up at my recent TIP-X meeting at The Red Lion in Broadclyst armed with their cameras to film me sharing what I know  and plenty more besides...

They had already done quite a bit of research themselves about the actual man as well as the variations of his folklore tale, so I felt obliged to do some more myself...

It would appear that Benjamin Geare was well liked, whilst alive, as his memorial describes him as being a Gentleman of the Parish and the fact he was honoured five times with the office of mayor should tell you something about his character. However, it would appear that, back in his day, the post wasn’t elected by the public. Instead by his peers and fellow councillors, making him out as some sort of ringleader, possibly suggesting they were all as corrupt as he was. 

During his time in office, one of his duties was to oversee a charitable fund used for paying the ransom for English sailors held prisoner by Barbary pirates. Alongside the accusation that he was a sheep stealer, it was also alleged he may have appropriated some of this fund for himself, crimes that may have weighed heavily upon him so that when he died either by natural causes or by hanging, preventing him from taking up his fifth term in office, his spirit couldn’t rest. 

Above: Latin inscription on Benjie's memorial with English translation 

It has also been suggested that, before this last term, he found himself on the wrong side of the religious divide which would most certainly have made him unpopular with his constituents, causing them to want to see him suffer in death by making him perform an impossible task in spirit form. 

It would appear that folklore is rife with such punishments, Lady Howard having to pluck a blade of grass every night, from the lawns of Okehampton Castle until there is no more having travelled all the way from her home in Tavistock; Weaver Knowles, having to empty Hound Pool on Dean Burn with a shell with a hole in it; and William de Tracey, having to spin rope out of sand on various beaches, whilst trying to avoid his efforts being destroyed by a fire breathing dog.to name but a few. It would appear that Benjie has been condemned to suffer all these fates and more...

His memorial plaque doesn’t say how he actually died, so all we are left with is the legend stating that he was taken deep into the north moor to be hung on Hangingstone Hill for his crime of sheep stealing, even though he had his own sheep and cattle roaming the moor. 

A most inconvenient spot for a hanging and not commonly used, even though the name might suggest otherwise for it doesn’t denote a place of execution, instead it highlights an impressive logan stone that overhangs the outcrop on which it is situated. 

The choice of this hill, as the place where Benjie should lose his life, has more to do with the fear that his spirit would return to haunt the town. So the further away he died the harder it would be for him to come back. 

This would also explain the choice of Cranmere Pool as a place to incarcerate his troublesome spirit for this was insight of Hangingstone Hill. As the townsfolk feared, this didn’t prevent his return and boy did he make his presence felt, once back in his beloved Okehampton.

It is then that legend and folklore fully take over when it comes to how his spirit was dealt with. The desperate locals beseeched their clergy to exorcise him. 

They tried to summon him in various different ancient languages, eventually succeeding in Arabic. It is then that various outcomes are recorded, all involving the remote Cranmere Pool for possible reasons I outlined above. 

Above: Remote Cranmere Pool with modern day letterbox shrine

Some say he was tasked with spinning rope out of sand, other versions say he was made to empty it, using a sieve. This one he seems to have achieved, as there is no longer any substantial body of water at Cranmere Pool. 

Using his knowledge of sheep, he supposedly managed to remove the fleece from a dead carcass, lined the sieve with it, and thus completed his mission, causing Okehampton to flood in the process.

When Benjie once again returned to the town, flushed with success, the townsfolk consulted a higher power, an Archbishop no less, asking him to deal with the spirit before he could cause any more damage. 

His approach was slightly different. Still regarding Cranmere Pool as a suitable prison for the ex-mayor, he requested a local stable boy to bring him a black colt, placing Benjie’s ghost inside it. 

He then instructed the lad to ride the horse, as swiftly as he could, to the pool, and allow it to dive in, saving himself at the last minute by jumping clear. 

The boy was also instructed to hurry home, but without looking back. The legend states that the stable boy carried out his instructions to the letter in one version. In another, he foolishly disobeys the Archbishop and witnesses the horse disappearing into the peaty pool, consumed by a great fireball with the cries of Benjie’s frustration, at still being inside, echoing in his ears. At the last second, the horse kicks out catching the boy in the face, tragically blinding him in one eye. 

It would also appear that Benjie isn’t alone in his prison for over the years other troublesome spirits have been banished there too...but that’s another story.

I shared my version with Rufus and Matt, before deciding to make it the subject of this week’s article. Doing some more research. I came up with a most interesting nugget pertaining to the early days of Letterboxing, when James Perrott used to encourage his clients to leave their business cards, or postcards, at Cranmere Pool, in the 1850s.

This became known as “Dropping a card on Binjy”, thus keeping the legend of Benjamin Geare alive at the pool.

However, there was one aspect of the legend that I wasn’t aware of, until I was doing some reading on the day of the recording, which brings a modern twist to the tale. 

It would appear that, along with his cries coming from the pool, not only can he appear in the form of a black pony, or even an ugly dwarf, but these presences can be accompanied by the summoning up of a thunderstorm.

If you were to walk around the pool, or even a table, three times uttering the immortal lines, “Benjie Geare! Benjie Geare! If thou art here, do thou appear!”

The boys seem to have taken inspiration from this ritual and plan on transporting a table all the way to the pool in order to carry it out even though I suggested it might have a similar effect wherever they positioned it, to chant around.

I look forward to seeing the fruits of their labours, which will include the table exercise, when exhibited at local film festivals as soon as the project is complete...best of luck guys!

Finally, the memorial plaque states that Benjie died, aged 54, on May 22, 1701...possibly May 22 would make an ideal date for one of my Ghost Walks...