For almost 200 years, The Goat Inn had been an integral part of village life in Strumpshaw, a bustling public house whose name was an acknowledgement of its rural location rather than the haunted head of a goat which had, for many years, refused to leave the place where it had been slaughtered.
For this tale, however, we need only to go back to 1908. That was the year when Mrs Newton, the landlord’s wife, took a fancy to a magnificent white goat which was brought to the inn by an itinerant pedlar. She decided, for reasons best known to herself, to buy the goat and paid a whole half-crown for him. In later years, this creature was to be known as ‘Old Capricorn’; this was, of course, a long time after it had been slaughtered.
In a newspaper interview in 1958, a local regular at the Inn by the name of Harry Thompson, who was 82 at the time, remembered personally slaughtering the creature. The reason given was not stated, but this act of despatch was followed by a suggestion that the creature should be preserved for perpetuity and hung behind the bar of the Goat Inn. With its long horns, beard and glaring balefully with black and hazel eyes, it could survey all who came into the pub whilst being a centre of attraction itself! In fact, it hung above the bar for 60 years, during which time there were reports of illness, discord and misfortune attributed to the goat’s head. Added to all this, was the fact that from time to time someone or other contrived to get the creature to disappear from the Inn – but then it always found ways and means to keep coming back to haunt the place – this went on for decades.
Landlord Frank Walpole, who came to the pub in 1967, appeared to be the least fond of this goat’s head than previous landlords; he was the eleventh since Newton in 1904 when the live version of ‘Old Capricorn’ was purchased for a half-crown. It was Walpole who was the first to remove it from the bar after a series of mysterious events which seemed to upset him more than the pub’s regulars. He cited things like mirrors flying off walls, the pub piano playing by itself while the top was down; water pouring through the ceiling and his wife Lily and daughter Jane, 16 seeing figures walk about the Inn at night. Most worryingly of all, was the occasion when a 17-year-old boy was killed in a car crash the day after he had touched the goat’s head.The newspaper of the time reported that Mr Walpole said “That made me think seriously about taking the head down. Now I’ve done it – Some of the regulars don’t like it, but it’s for the best.”
Mr and Mrs Walpole’s theory was that the Goat’s Head was nothing less than a ghost; what’s more, it was Mrs Walpole’s cousin Alfred, who died on the British destroyer HMS Harvester on March 11 1943 – but that’s another tale, for another day. She had also spoken to both a medium and a priest about a possible exorcism.
These were serious misgivings of the Walpole’s, but the fact of the matter was that the goat was being missed by their customers. So, two years later, the creature was found and reinstated on the wall behind the bar. However, with the its return came renewed misfortune. This time it was the family pets who suffered: a minah bird dropped dead, a monkey died from a head injury, one of the family’s three dogs ran away while another died giving birth and its companion passed away the next day.
On Valentine’s Day 1972 the newspaper again noted that Mr Walpole “……..once again removed Old Capricorn, weighted the shaggy head and threw it in the river. He had been told he must ‘drown’ the evil spell. Only Mr Walpole was to know just where the goat’s head was hidden. He did hope at the time that the place would not bode ill for any Broads visitors that summer.”!
But, within a month, a reed-cutter by the name of Alfred Stone caught sight of the head in Rockland Dyke, “looking more malevolent than ever” after its five-mile journey along the River Yare. Alfred Stone passed it to a Mr A Loades of Broad Hall Farm in Rockland St Mary, whose son Dennis, 24, hung it in the barn saying he’d “start his own museum”. But, you guessed it – within days, the dogs on the farm started behaving aggressively and Dennis’ grandmother, who was staying on the farm, had such a prolonged attack of nose bleeding that she had to go to hospital. Consequently, the head was hurriedly given back to The Goat Inn, but by August of the same year, ‘Old Capricorn’ was discovered in a shallow grave at Strumpshaw gravel pit where the creepy cranium was found “in the ground, as if it was alive”.
As ever, spooky coincidences followed the discovery: tyres deflated, a driver was shot in the arm, dogs were filled with fear – then the trail went cold. It was not until 1984, when the Goat Inn was bought by Paul Cornwall who renamed it The Huntsman, that interest was rekindled. The new proprietor was keen to bring the goat back to his rightful home and, once again, the newspaper renewed its interest in, what to them, must have been a news-worthy story. They quoted Mt Cornwall “I’m all for local superstitions, and I am interested in the whole history of the place; I’m not a believer, but, having said that, we have all got to go some time and you might as well die through touching a goat’s head. Of course I’d like it back – I am a glutton for punishment”!
Further to this, it was never said if Mr Cornwall, proprietor of the Huntsman at Strumpshaw, was ever successful. As for the local newspaper, which made such play on the topic at the time, appeared to have been conspicuous by its silence on the matter ever since. So, it is not known if Mr Cornwall ever brought ‘Old Capricorn’ home, which means that this tale must end abruptly – unless, and until, someone comes forward to confirm that the Goat’s Head of Strumpshaw is ‘alive’ and well and still, possibly, spreading panic and mayhem!
Photos: Eastern Daily Press and Google Images.