There is something particularly unsettling about hearing a horse and carriage when there should be none.

Long after the coaching days of Somerset had disappeared, stories have continued to circulate of coaches heard rattling through the darkness, horses galloping along roads where no horses are present, riders who vanish before the eyes of witnesses, and carriages that appear from nowhere before disappearing just as mysteriously.

Some are associated with accidents or tragic deaths. Others seem to have no obvious explanation at all.

And while Somerset has no shortage of ghost stories, the tales of its **phantom journeys** are particularly fascinating.

They seem to belong to different eras — from the days of horse-drawn coaches and highwaymen to steam trains and even phantom motor vehicles.

This is a collection of some of Somerset's ghostly coaches, horses, riders and other unexplained forms of transport.

As always with folklore, these are stories and reported experiences rather than established supernatural facts.

Some have been passed down locally for generations; others are comparatively modern reports.

The Phantom Coaches of Somerset

Brockley Combe — the Swerving Coach

Perhaps one of Somerset's best-known phantom coach stories comes from Brockley Combe, near Backwell.

The wooded combe has a long-standing reputation for strange happenings, including a ghostly coach and four.

One version describes a hearse-like carriage drawn by four horses and driven by a headless coachman.

Other accounts say that the coach appears suddenly from the darkness and seems to charge towards approaching traffic, sometimes being blamed for accidents.

Another version places its appearance at midnight on Christmas Eve, when an eighteenth-century coachman is said to drive the vehicle silently through the darkness, cracking a whip which makes no sound.

There are also separate stories of a headless huntsman and a phantom horseman in the same area, suggesting that Brockley Combe has accumulated several layers of ghostly folklore over the years.

The stories are not documented in the sense of a contemporary historical record, but the phantom coach is a long-running local tradition, with reports continuing into the twentieth century.

It is easy to imagine how such a story might have developed in a dark, wooded combe once travelled by horse and carriage — a place where the sound of hooves could carry a surprisingly long way through the trees.

Bossington — the Headless Coachman

Another Somerset story concerns the roads around Bossington.

A late nineteenth-century account tells of a witness encountering a phantom coach and horses, apparently driven by a headless coachman.

The apparition is said to have passed the witness before simply disappearing.

It is a remarkably familiar image in British ghost folklore: the coach, the horses and the driver continuing their journey despite apparently belonging to another time.

But in Somerset, it appears in several different forms.

Holford — the Coach of Nomansland

At Nomansland, near Holford, the phantom coach has a very different character.

This particular apparition is said to return on Christmas Eve.

At the stroke of midnight, an old-fashioned coach pulled by spectral black horses is said to appear and travel up a driveway before turning around and retracing its route.

Then it disappears.

Some versions of the story describe a lone female passenger sitting inside the coach.

She is sometimes said to appear separately on foot, walking along the lonely stretch between Holford and Nether Stowey.

Unlike some of Somerset's more dramatic phantom coaches, this one does not charge towards witnesses or cause accidents. It simply repeats the same mysterious journey, year after year.

The story is recorded in local paranormal folklore as a recurring Christmas Eve apparition.

Porlock Hill — Coaches That Vanish

Porlock Hill is notorious for its steep gradient and long history of accidents, and it has acquired its own collection of ghostly stories.

Among them are reports of phantom coaches, a hearse and even an old man desperately attempting to stop his bicycle — all appearing briefly before vanishing near the hedgerows.

One particularly striking account concerns a coach and four apparently careering silently down the hill towards a Dormobile.

The driver of the van saw the ancient-looking vehicle and took evasive action, driving into a nearby field.

Three of the passengers also saw the coach.

The strange part came afterwards.

The phantom vehicle was reportedly seen to cross the road in front of another car, which appeared to pass straight through it.

Whether these experiences were caused by unusual atmospheric conditions, misidentification, or something less easily explained, Porlock Hill has certainly accumulated a remarkable body of folklore.

When the Coach Arrives Without a Driver

Some Somerset stories are particularly strange because the carriage itself seems almost incidental.

At Hinton Charterhouse Priory, the gates are said to open by themselves, allowing an invisible coach and horses to enter.

Those nearby may hear the sound of passengers inside, apparently distressed.

The gates then close again.

There is no visible coach.

Only the sounds remain.

It is a particularly old-fashioned form of haunting — not an apparition that walks through walls, but the continuation of an entire journey which seems to have no physical travellers at all.

At Coker Court in East Coker, another phantom carriage is said to drive into the courtyard, collect a passenger and then disappear.

At Merriott Manor, phantom horses and a coach are likewise said to pull up at the door.

And at Glastonbury Abbey Grange, a ghostly horse and carriage has been reported on the drive.

Taken individually, these are brief local stories.

Together, they form an intriguing pattern: across Somerset, the traditional horse-drawn carriage seems to have become one of the landscape's recurring supernatural visitors.

The Sound of Hooves

Not every ghostly journey can be seen.

Sometimes it is the sound that comes first.

At Laura Place in Bath, although technically outside our Somerset focus, there is a particularly good example of this tradition: the sound of jangling harnesses and clattering hooves is said to pass by, accompanied by the sensation of displaced air as though an actual carriage had just swept past.

Similar stories occur in Somerset.

At Churchstanton, near Taunton, the sound of phantom hooves has reportedly been heard around Merlan Corner.

According to local tradition, the clip-clop is sometimes accompanied by a strange pale mist which appears to transform into a horse carrying a headless rider.

And on the main street of East Chinnock, a phantom galloping horse has reportedly been heard.

In some versions, the horse is connected with the story of an eloping couple — giving the haunting the feel of a journey that never quite reached its destination.

The Quantocks have their own traditions of unexplained horses, carriages and sounds.

Research into local folklore has recorded reports of galloping horses and the clash of metal around Cothelstone Hill and the ridge near Broomfield and Ruborough.

There is even a local family tradition of a crashing stagecoach apparently racing past a farm, complete with the sounds of breaking glass.

Perhaps these stories are reminders of how different the countryside once sounded.

Before engines, there were horses.

And when a horse galloped along a dark country lane at night, everyone knew exactly what the sound meant.

Perhaps that is why the sound has proved so enduring in folklore.

The Ghostly Riders

The phantom coach does not always travel alone.

Somerset has numerous stories of horsemen who appear briefly and then disappear.

At Midford Castle, a witness is said to have encountered a headless horseman.

The experience was reputedly so terrifying that the man's hair turned white overnight, earning him the nickname "Snowball".

At Camerton, on Skinner's Hill towards the A367, a cyclist reportedly saw what appeared to be a man on horseback just after sunset in 1984.

The figure wore a cape or long coat and a hat.

Then he simply faded away.

The witness had travelled the same route hundreds of times and never saw the horseman again.

At East Harptree, a cloaked figure on horseback is said to appear on the road outside the Castle of Comfort.

In this version, the rider seems to leap through a hedge on one side of the road and vanish through the hedge opposite.

And at Duddlestone, in the Taunton Deane area, tradition tells of a headless horseman in a flowing cloak riding a grey horse through the village.

The imagery is remarkably consistent.

A horse.

A rider from another age.

And then — nothing.

The Highwayman Who Never Gets Away

One of the most atmospheric Somerset phantom riders is associated with Thomas Pocock, the legendary highwayman of the Ashcott and Chilton Polden area.

According to local tradition, Pocock appears along the A39 riding a black horse.

The horse seems to gallop frantically, yet somehow never gets anywhere.

The rider is said to sit slumped in the saddle, apparently wounded, as though desperately trying to escape.

Some accounts place the apparition as recently as the late twentieth century.

The traditional explanation is that the ghost is that of Thomas Pocock, a highwayman who supposedly lived in the area in the early eighteenth century.

Little reliable historical information appears to survive about Pocock himself, and the Robin Hood-like details surrounding him belong largely to folklore. According to the legend, he robbed wealthy travellers and shared his spoils with the poor before eventually being captured and executed.

The story says that he once hid in a secret cave somewhere near Chilton Priory.

Perhaps, the legend suggests, this is why he continues to ride.

Still searching.

Still trying to escape.

Still never reaching his destination.

It is a wonderfully persistent piece of Somerset folklore — although the identification of the phantom with a historical Pocock should be treated as legend rather than established biography.

A similar horseman is reported at Loxley Woods near Shapwick, where a rider is said to gallop in one place, slumped over the horse's neck, before the horse moves away through the hedges and into the woods.

Again, local tradition sometimes identifies the rider with Thomas Pocock.

Black Horses, Black Coaches

Somerset seems particularly fond of the image of the black horse and black coach.

At Cutcombe, an accident blackspot, stories tell of a phantom runaway black coach and headless horses said to frighten motorists.

At Nunney, a large black horse and rider is said to trot down the main street towards the castle.

Sometimes a large black dog is said to accompany them.

The rider has been associated by local tradition with Richard Prater, who was forced to surrender Nunney Castle during the Civil War.

And at the mysterious, undisclosed Somerset location where a phantom hearse is said to travel slowly through a hamlet, the apparition has a darker significance: it is reputed to be an omen of an approaching death.

The idea of a spectral hearse is, of course, an ancient one.

The vehicle is not necessarily the ghost of someone who died.

Sometimes it is the warning.

A carriage from nowhere, appearing shortly before somebody in the living world is due to leave it.

The Phantom Coach and the Accident

A number of Somerset's ghost-coach traditions are connected with accidents.

At Monkton Farleigh, near the King's Arms, one story tells of a Victorian woman returning home late at night in her carriage.

Her horse suddenly bolted.

As the carriage approached the inn at speed, it struck a wall and overturned, killing her.

According to local tradition, ghostly screams can sometimes still be heard in the nearby lane, accompanied by the phantom thunder of hooves.

Whether the haunting developed from the accident or the accident was later woven into an existing ghost story is impossible to say.

But this is a recurring pattern in folklore.

A sudden death on the road becomes a journey which can never quite finish.

The coach continues.

The horses continue.

The rider never reaches home.

Ghostly Processions and Phantom Armies

Not every spectral journey involves a single carriage.

Somerset also has traditions of groups of ghostly figures.

On the road between Chewton village and Queen Charlton, there are reports of apparitions resembling soldiers riding old motorcycles.

The modern vehicles make this particularly unusual, although the location is known to have had army camps during the Second World War.

Elsewhere, the Quantock landscape carries older stories of unexplained military sounds.

Around Dowsborough Hill near Holford, local tradition records reports of the sounds of battle, sometimes associated with a supposed camp of Danish soldiers.

Around Cothelstone Hill and the Quantock ridge, there are also traditions of hearing the clash of metal alongside the sound of a galloping horse. One interpretation connects the sounds with the Viking battle traditions of the area; another simply regards the apparition as a phantom horseman.

These stories take us slightly away from the traditional phantom coach, but they belong to the same fascinating category of residual or repeating journeys — something from the past seemingly replaying itself across the landscape.

When the Horse Became a Motorcycle

As the twentieth century arrived, Somerset's supernatural transport stories did not necessarily disappear.

They changed.

At Dunkery, a phantom motorcyclist wearing a black helmet and leathers is said to appear to motorists.

In one particularly strange account, a driver stopped to avoid hitting the motorcyclist — only for the figure to vanish.

When the driver continued, he discovered that part of the road ahead had been swept away by flooding.

The obvious interpretation is that the phantom somehow prevented the driver from continuing into danger.

Was it a ghost?

A strange trick of the light?

Or simply a coincidence that became a story?

We cannot know.

But the tale has a striking resemblance to much older traditions in which supernatural travellers appear at precisely the moment they are needed.

At Frome, a photograph taken outside the Morton Guest House in 1990 has been interpreted as possibly showing a phantom motorcyclist — although a double exposure of the photographer is considered a much more likely explanation.

The location itself had a connection with a fatal motorbike accident in 1940.

Again, the story sits somewhere between photographic mystery, local history and ghost folklore.

The Ghost Car

Not all phantom vehicles belong to the distant past.

Near Shockerwick Bridge, on the old Bath road, there is a much more modern story.

Around midnight, an old blue Morris Minor is said to appear from nowhere and drive towards oncoming traffic.

It is an oddly specific apparition.

There is no spectral coachman, no galloping horse and no eighteenth-century clothing.

Just an old car suddenly appearing in the darkness.

And perhaps that is what makes it so interesting.

Ghost stories tend to preserve the technology of their own time.

Once coaches dominated the roads, the ghosts travelled by coach.

Then came the railway.

Then the motor car.

The vehicle changes.

The mystery doesn't.

The Ghost Trains of Somerset

Eventually, the journey leaves the road altogether.

Somerset's railway lines have their own collection of phantom sounds and apparitions.

At Watchet, the legend is particularly striking.

A phantom steam engine has reportedly been seen after dark, sometimes appearing to travel along the railway when the line was disused and overgrown.

The apparition has been described as a locomotive pulling several trucks.

On other occasions, witnesses have reportedly seen only the glow of the firebox.

Sometimes the train cannot be seen at all.

It can only be heard.

The story has been associated with a fatal railway accident in 1857 in which three men died, although the connection is part of the later ghost tradition rather than something that can be established as fact.

The image is nevertheless wonderfully evocative:

A railway line in darkness.

A distant sound.

The suggestion of a steam engine approaching.

And then nothing.

The Somerset & Dorset Railway

The old Somerset & Dorset Joint Railwayprovides another setting for phantom railway stories.

Although the line closed in 1966, local folklore has preserved reports of distant steam whistles and the sound of trains approaching along sections where the railway is now gone.

People have described hearing:

* a distant steam whistle;

* the sound of a train approaching;

* rhythmic clanking and rumbling resembling wheels on rails;

* and, occasionally, the smell of coal smoke.

The Masbury Summit area, once the highest point on the Somerset & Dorset route, has its own atmosphere of railway folklore.

The summit was often shrouded in fog, and local tales tell of hearing trains labouring uphill through the mist long after the railway disappeared.

In some versions, a glow can apparently be seen moving through the fog before disappearing.

These stories are largely local folklore rather than formally documented hauntings.

But perhaps that is exactly what makes them interesting.

The railway has gone.

The tracks have gone.

The trains have gone.

Yet the landscape seems, in the stories at least, to remember them.

Keynsham — The Train That Passes in Silence

At Keynsham railway station, another phantom locomotive is said to pass through the station.

Unlike the noisy steam engines of the past, this one is reportedly silent.

Some accounts describe witnesses seeing the worried face of a driver as the ghostly train passes.

The story has been associated with an early twentieth-century railway apparition and sits neatly alongside Somerset's other phantom railway traditions.

At Kentsford railway station, the story is darker.

In August 1857, two trains collided, resulting in deaths.

Local tradition says that the sound of the collision can sometimes still be heard, with some witnesses even claiming to have seen an engine.

And at Vallis Vale near Frome, reports of a ghost train on the old railway track have been accompanied by strange noises and an uncomfortable feeling around the disused line.

Once again, the railway may be gone.

But in the folklore of Somerset, it seems that some trains never received the message that their journey had ended.

Journeys That Never End

There is something remarkably consistent about these stories.

The coach appears and disappears.

The horseman gallops but never reaches his destination.

The hearse arrives with no obvious passenger.

The motorcyclist vanishes.

The old car drives towards traffic and disappears.

The train approaches, but never arrives.

Perhaps this is why transport makes such an effective subject for ghost stories.

A haunting is usually imagined as a person who cannot leave.

But these stories suggest something slightly different: a journey that cannot end.

For centuries, Somerset has been crossed by people travelling from one place to another — travellers, coaches, horsemen, soldiers, lovers, highwaymen, railway workers and passengers.

The roads and tracks have changed.

The vehicles have changed.

The countryside has changed around them.

Yet the stories remain.

And somewhere in the darkness, according to Somerset folklore, there may still be a coach waiting to emerge from the mist, a horse galloping where no horse should be, or the distant sound of a train travelling along a railway that disappeared decades ago.

Perhaps the strangest thing about a phantom journey is not where it begins.

It is that it never seems to end.

© P Wallace - Somerset Paranormal

Source - Somerset Paranormal, Paranormal Somerset - Selena Wright

Images - Clipart, Wellcome Collection, PJW Artworks, Porlock Hill Postcard 1930