The great bell of bosham

Long, long ago when men used to come sailing over the sea from Denmark and Norway to raid the coast of England, a boy at Bosham in Sussex saw a strange ship approaching the shore. Terrified he ran back to the village shouting: "The Danes are coming!"

At once everyone snatched up what they could and fled to the woods. The women took the babies, the men drove the cows, the monks in the monastery hid as many of the treasures of the church as they could, and fled to join the villagers.

When the Danes landed and scattered through the village, there was no one to be seen, for the villagers were helpless against so many strong men. The raiders carried away whatever they could find and then rushed into the church.

Now there was a peal of seven bells in the church of which the monks were very proud. They were only rung on Sundays and feast days: dong-ding, ding-dong, dong-ding, boom! The seventh bell was a very large one with a deep note.

The Danes jerked the bell ropes so that the bells swung and jangled. Pleased with the sound, the raiders carried the biggest bell away with them and set it down on the deck of their ship. They would hang it outside the Chiefs Hall in. Denmark, they thought. Its booming note would ring out grandly over the sea.

When the Danes were gone, the people came flocking back to their ruined huts. The monks went into the church, which had been stripped of anything worth carrying. Then to cheer the villagers, they rang a peal on the bells. Ding-dong, Ding-dong, Ding-dong… But what happened to the deepest tone of the seventh bell? They rang the peal again and this time, to their astonishment, there came a boom from the sea. It was a great bell joining in from the pirates’ ship. Once more it rang its deep booming note and then all was silence. The Danes had stolen so much loot and the great bell was so heavy that the ship with all those who were in it sank to the bottom of the sea.

The bell has remained on the sea bed ever since but if you listen very carefully when the six bells are rung, you may hear a faint of boom from under the sea. It’s the great bell of Bosham.

The story of the heir of linne

There lived long ago in the broad lands of Scotland a worthy lord who had an only son. And as he came to lie on his death bed, he sent for the lad and said:

"My son, too well I know that when I am dead and gone you will waste the money and the land that I shall leave you, and one day you will come to poverty". The Heir of Linne, as the youth was called, began to say that he would be careful, and do all that he could to obey the wishes of his father, whom he loved so dearly but the old man told him not to make promises which he might be tempted to break, but only to assure him of one thing.

“Far away in the borders of our land", he said, "stands a deserted cottage known as the Lonesome Lodge. Promise that if you sell all else you have in the world, you will never part with this. Take the key, and hang it round your neck, and remember that when all your friends turn their backs upon you, and you have no place to go to, it is my desire that you should go to the Lonesome Lodge, and there you will find a friend in need".

This seemed a very strange saying to the young man, but to satisfy his father, he hung the key round his neck, and soon after the old man died. The Heir of Linne was now quite alone in the world, for his mother had died long since. For a time he lived very quietly and sadly, but after whil to visit him again, and they brought others with them, so that the Heir began to lead a very gay life. He wasted his money right and left. He bought everything he wanted for himself, and for his friends, if they were only heard to admire a horse or a dog or a golden cup, it was at once presented to them.

But money cannot last forever, and after a time his servant told him there was no more left. Moreover, even the house itself did not belong to him any longer. As a matter of fact this servant of his, John O'Scales by name, was a very clever man, and to him the Heir of Linne had left the care of all his lands, never looking into his accounts. In this way John O'Scales became quite rich and it was he who had bought the house and all the lands of the unfortunate heir and now that the money was at an end he even offered the young man a few pounds for the Lonesome Lodge, which, he said, was all now left of his father's great estate. The Heir was about to accept the offer when he felt the little key grow heavy as it lay on his heart and he remembered his father's words and the promises he made and he refused to part with it.