A Stormy Romance

While reading the absolutely cracking “The Fabled Coast – Legends & Traditions from Around the Shores of Britain & Ireland” (S. Kingshill & J. Westwood)*, which I highly recommend, I happened upon a banger of a tale entitled Sarah Polgrain and Yorkshire Jack. The Story, hailing from Mounts Bay in beautiful Cornwall, instantly struck me right in the imagination gland and it's shrapnel has been lodged in there ever since. It's a tale of adultery, murder, eternal vows and tormented apparitions, and it culminates in a phantasmagorical fireworks display that'll chill you to your quivering marrow. It's basically got it all!

So without further waffling, I shall attempt to regurgitate for you all of the gruesome details that I’ve gathered on the tale – much like a mummy bird bestowing easily digestible sentence-mush straight into your eager beak. It’s great story and really I hope I do it justice. Should I falter though, luckily for you my friend is a much better artist than I am a writer and, as will always be the case here at Wondering Ghosts, he’s completely illustrated this dubious buffet – just in case you tire of chugging cack-handed grammatical soup. Onwards!

A Deadly Duo

Sarah Polgrain was married to a farmer. It was a rocky and loveless slog that came to an abrupt end when her husband, Henry, suddenly died of what was assumed to be cholera. However, all was not as it seemed – oh how it rarely is. Turns out Sarah had become enamoured with a handsome and roguish horse trader named Jack. Jack in turn was proper into Sarah, and soon they became embroiled in an adulterous affair. In the wake of this liaison, suspicions soon arose surrounding the death of Sarah's husband. Thus he was exhumed and examined, and the rumours were confirmed when Henry Polgrain was found to be pumped full of enough arsenic to take down one of Yorkshire Jack's horses – One of the really big ones. Tried and found guilty of the murder of her husband, Sarah alone was condemned to the gallows, even though it was said that Jack had been instrumental in at least the plotting, if not the carrying out, of the dirty deed.

On the day of her hanging, Yorkshire Jack accompanied his lover to the scaffold where he kissed her one last time. The pair were then seen to whisper to each other as the hangman readied the noose. Nobody could quite make out what they were saying except when Sarah suddenly exclaimed, “You will?” to which Jack replied, “I will!” Sarah was then hung until she was, as one story puts it “...a dead corpse, pendulating in the wind”** – Sheesh. From that day forward people reported seeing Sarah's ghost, her neck bruised and broken from the noose, clawing at her husband's grave.

Soon after this Yorkshire Jack, quite prudently, decided to make himself scarce. With the eyes and chatter of the community sharp and pointed right at him, he went to sea where he worked on numerous trading vessels, never staying with one crew for too long. Those who had known him saw a marked change in Jack from the day of Sarah's hanging. His roguish air had dissipated, his wit dulled, and his good looks given way to a harrowed, sunken, aspect that was almost as shocking as it was unrecognisable. His once robust frame was now whittled to fragility, and bent with constant cowering.

One day, while working onboard a small vessel transporting fruit, the crew elected a man to tell Jack that his services were no longer required and that he should disembark at the next port. It seemed the reason Jack never stayed with one ship for very long was that wherever he traveled he brought all the bad luck in the world along with him. If ever there was an accident he was present, trade goods he was charged with securing and maintaining soured or were lost overboard, and bad weather was forever at his back.

The Truth Comes Out

It was with this rejection that Jack finally broke down and told his terrible tale. He had promised himself to Sarah, on that fateful day at the gallows, if only to sate the woman he had cared about in her final terrified moments. He had vowed to marry her “Living or Dead” and had even arranged a time and date. As Jack imparted his ghoulish tale to the man he saw terror swell in his widening eyes. As Jack continued the waves around them grew ever more tumultuous, and the sky darkened at an unearthly pace. The rest of the crew, bracing themselves for the encroaching storm, all stood aghast with horror as Jack, seemingly resigned to whatever had his crew-mates so transfixed, turned to face the raging tempest.

There he met the glowering gaze of his erstwhile lover who stood towering amidst the roiling clouds: her eyes illuminated with fury as lightning snaked around her. With her arms outstretched, she grasped for what had been promised to her, crying “I will! I will!” in tormented anguish all the while. But Sarah was not alone. In the clouds beside her loomed a figure so diabolical that the men could not look at it. The devil had come to see that the infernal ceremony was done, and so claim the souls of the sinful pair. All of the men, save for Jack, scrambled for safety and prepared to be dragged under in the chaos. As they shook, impotent with fear, they could hear the heavy bellow of church bells booming out across the sea, the clamour synchronising with the thrashing of the raging waters. Then Sarah, lurching forwards, brought a wave crashing down onto the deck where Jack stood froze. With that Jack was swept from the deck into the churning brine, and as quickly as it came the storm began to recede. Only now, there were three figures standing amongst the blackened clouds as they dissipated over the horizon.

The sea now flattened, the small ship continued it's voyage. The crew, though shaken, where freed from further incident or strange bouts of bad-luck. So it was they delivered their cargo and their story, which is still told to this day.

Official Wondering Ghosts Collectors Cards and more coming soon!

Final Thinks

So there you have it. Told you it was a corker! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did, and for those of you who're a bit sad that its over, there are still a few more titbits of info on the story and it's players jotted down below. Before you read on though, I’d like to just say thank you for coming over. If you feel like joining me again for more spiffingly spooky illustrations and another otherworldly articles then we’ll be back real soon with another banger, and It'd be great to see you again!

Findings

Sarah Polgrean was indeed a real person who had what reads like a pretty terrible life of poverty, abandonment and abuse. She poisoned her husband with arsenic laced butter that she spread on his bread, and was hanged for the crime at Bodmin Jail in 1820. In addition to her execution, the judge also sentenced her to dissection to aid medical science.

Yorkshire Jack is a little more elusive to pin down, but does appear in some sources as a real person and impetus to Sarah's final offense. Some sources state that Jack was simply a sailor and not a horse trader, and It is also reported that It was indeed Sarah's last wish to have Jack walk her to the gallows. Jack was then taken ill following the execution and returned to sea where he was washed overboard. If this report has any truth to it then we have all we need for the seed of the legend to take root.

In some variations of the tale, the time by which Sarah and Jack's unearthly wedding must take place was three years. In others it isn't specified. The number three is often a recurring quantifier in western stories, as it gels with numerous tripartite themes that run through western culture, e.g. The Father, Son and Holy Ghost of the Holy Trinity; The Maiden, Mother and Crone of the Celtic triple goddess, or the divisions of the past, present and future or Land, Sea and Sky.

Sources

* - S. Kingshill & J. Westwood (2012). The Fabled Coast – Legends & Traditions from Around the Shores of Britain & Ireland. Random House Publishing. ISBN: 9781847946324

** – Hunt, Robert (1908) Popular romances of the west of England; or, The drolls, traditions, and superstitions of old Cornwall;

Words: J Munzar - Arts: Tatlock