Haunted Hull – the monks of Meaux Abbey

We enjoy a ghost story here at the History Centre (well, I do!) and one ghost story that always comes up are the reputed sightings of monks across the Bransholme Estate, and beyond! These hauntings are said to relate to the monks from Meaux Abbey. Meaux Abbey itself lies about a mile or so to the north of Wawne. It was here in 1150 that the Earl of Holderness, William le Gros (the fat), Count of Aumale founded Meaux Abbey. William founded the abbey to atone for not going on crusade. William was also responsible for Thornton Abbey just across the Humber in Lincolnshire. It is here that William was laid to rest.

Meaux Abbey’s first buildings were made from the wooden castle captured at Birdsall by William. The castles timbers were removed and transported to Meaux; its timbers used to construct its first buildings. Later it would be rebuilt in stone. You may well be thinking what has this got to do with the ghosts of monks seen on Bransholme? After all, Meaux Abbey was around two miles north of today’s Bransholme Estate where many of the reputed ghostly sightings/ apparitions have been reported.

The ruins of Meaux Abbey, late 18th century
[Ref: Lp.726.7(64) M/2]

The monks of Meaux Abbey didn’t rest on their laurels. Being of the Cistercian order, they led a somewhat harsher life than other monastic orders. They were advocates of manual labour. This ideology meant they busily set to work improving the surrounding landscape. They started draining the land by creating a network of drains, ditches, and dikes, some of which are still in existence today. By doing this they could grow crops, but more importantly create pasture for perhaps their greatest commodity – sheep. Well, more precisely the wool that sheep produced. Wool very much underpinned England’s medieval economy. Wool was transported to Europe, particularly with Low Countries. In fact Flemingate in Beverley takes its name from the Flemish weavers that settled in the town in the middle-ages. To transport wool to Europe, Meaux Abbey was directly connected to the river Hull by the Eschedike. From here it would be sent to Wyke and later Hull to be sent to Europe. When Richard I was captured by Duke Leopold of Austria on return from the Third Crusade, wool was sent from Wyke to help pay for the release of Richard.

Bower's 1781 drainage plan of Holderness. Note the Foredyke Stream (centre) running what is south-west. The later stream or drain that turns south-east was constructed in 1764 (marked as Main Drain] and therefore post-dates the monks of Meaux Abbey
[Ref: L MAPS/1/4]

The Foredyke Stream which ran through Bransholme, and has been the location of numerous reputed sightings, was also linked to Meaux Abbey. The later Foredyke Stream, that is the section than turns south just before Bude Road is man made. Constructed in 1764 the route is still visible, lined by small trees and bushes, whilst the route from Sutton Road now forms the cycle track that runs to Holborn Street, just outside the City Centre. The earlier Foredyke stream, like the Eschedike was used by the monks of Meaux Abbey to reach Hull. This route skirts North Bransholme’s southern tip, along Bude Road and John Newton Way to its outflow at the river Hull just beside what is Today Hollywood Bowl. Today the part that runs along Bude and John Newton Way is better known as Wawne Drain, but in the Middle-Ages monks would have walked its length, perhaps using oxen or horses that pulled small craft laden will wool. Think of these waterways as the medieval version of the A63, A1165 or A1079. Whether it be creating drains and dikes, tending to the crops or livestock the monks of Meaux Abbey left their imprint across this landscape and beyond. This may explain to those who believe why the apparitions of monks have been seen across the area.

The Foredyke Stream, constructed in 1764 running by Howard's Row, Chapman Street
[Ref: L THP/1323]

For those that believe in ghosts, it is said ‘violent’ or ‘sudden deaths’ are to explain why ghosts are seen. Their spirits haven’t passed to the spirit world, and therefore remain trapped in the living world. One monk whose spirit perhaps remains is that of its first abbot, Adam. Adam was chosen as Meaux’s first abbot. Adam relocated to Meaux from Fountains Abbey. Meaux was a daughter house to Fountains. Adam could have remained at the already established Fountains Abbey, one of Yorkshire’s great monastic houses and lived out his days there. But for whatever reason, Adam chose to take up the offer of its founder, William le Gros. As the abbeys first abbot, could the spirit of Adam still be present, wandering the landscape keeping a close eye on what was then the new project to God and Christ?

Perhaps, the spirit of another one of Meaux's abbot's still lingers - Michael de Brun. Michael was a monk at Meaux before his election as its abbot. Getting the top job, he must have been held in high regards by his peers. As a monk at the abbey, Michael may well have been local to Holderness, perhaps growing up in the vicinity so had close connection to not only to the abbey, but also the wider landscape. Highly regarded, he was consulted on his death bed on a dispute with St. Mary’s, York, on matters of fishing at Hornsea and whether to cut down a small wood in the possession of the abbey. Michael gave his advice, but in all three cases his brethren acted against it. Could Michael de Brun still haunt Meaux Abbey and the area, angry that his advice wasn’t taken?

Perhaps adding further credibility to such a theory is a reputed sighting of a monk in the early 1930s. A man was making a delivery to a farm close to the ruins of Meaux Abbey. As he walked towards the farm a monk is said to have appeared before him. Understandably full of fear the man continued walking, probably rather hastily from this point. But upon turning the corner, the monk he said, ‘had disappeared’. Around one hundred years earlier a human skeleton in a stone coffin was unearthed beneath what was once the abbey’s floor, whilst on another occasion a skeleton was discovered beneath a long floor stone on the abbey’s site. Do these remains add some credibility to such stories of monks seen in the area? Could one of these skeleton’s be one of the former abbot’s disturbed from their eternal rest. Perhaps wondering the landscape unable to pass into the afterlife?

Aerial view of the site of Meaux Abbey today
[copyright Google Maps]

Meaux Abbey was the spiritual centre of Holderness. The abbey’s biggest tragedy struck in August 1349 at the height of the Black Death. The abbey had 42 monks and 7 lay brethren at that time. During that month 22 monks and 6 lay brethren perished. On one day alone the abbot and 5 monks succumb to the pestilence. Just 10 monks survived meaning that almost 4 out of every 5 were dead. Even God couldn’t save their souls. Multiply deaths at the abbey over four centuries and perhaps hundreds of monks were buried at the abbey. Not all monks would have met their maker holed up in their dormitory, surrounded by their brethren who chanted prayers for their souls. In case of those struck down by the plague it possible their brethren kept away from the dying altogether. It is however also plausible that some died in violent, sudden, tragic or more sinister circumstances.

We do know that one of the Lords of Sutton, Sayer II was the thorn in the side of the monks of Meaux Abbey the early thirteenth century. He ordered for the Meaux Abbey’s monks to be thrown out of the West Marsh, using the violet hands of his men to do this. It was during this encounter one of Sayer’s men was killed. Sayer had found out that his father left gifts of land to the abbey. Sayer, probably fuming took real beef with the abbey which resulted in the death of one of his men. The abbey did compensate Sayer for his losses. However, Sayer appears to be a rather violet and nasty chap. For example, he ordered a ship to be seized on the river Hull, even if it meant killing the crew, which he happily disposed of. Could Sayer have taken revenge for the murder of one of his men? An eye for an eye so to speak. Could Sayer have prayed on a lonely monk who had wondered off from his brethren? Perhaps picking apples from an orchard on a lovely summers’ day. Isolated from his fellow monks, perhaps Sayer struck, murdering the monk in cold blood as revenge. The body disposed of as to not implicate Sayer or his men. Searching, the monks may have been presumed their brother had either absconded or succumb marshes and swamps. It is quite an accusation, but knowing the type of character Sayer was, it is plausible.

Just like today in which we have workplace accidents and deaths, we'd call them industrial accidents today, accidents too occurred in medieval times, particularly with no health and safety! Imagine how may souls were lost in the construction of the country’s great cathedrals and castles for example. During the construction of the abbey from wood to stone it is plausible to assume one or two monks were perhaps killed or died as result of their injuries in its construction. In a landscape which still had to be tamed, sudden, extreme weather, or prolonged periods of bad weather posed a danger to life. A heavy down poor could result in flash floods in which a monk or two could easily be carried off to meet their watery fate. A dike, ditch or drain may have collapsed during construction, burying one or more monks who were involved in the construction. Then there were the marshes, meres, and swamps to contend with daily. Without knowledge of the area, a wrong turn, or a slight stray from a safe route and just like King John’s treasures, individuals or groups could succumb to land, sinking or drowning without a hope in hells chance of rescue. Back in the medieval period, the area in which the Bransholme Estate sits was low lying. It still is low-lying today. To the north was an expanse of water known as the North Carr, whilst to the south was a sheet of saltmarsh known as Stanmer, which fed into the rivers Hull and Humber. Working this land was perilous. So, it wouldn’t be a surprise if a monk or two lost their lives in what was a hostile and unforgiving environment, particularly without local knowledge. This may explain why reputed apparitions of monks have seen across Bransholme and beyond.

Monk carvings close to the Foredyke Stream. This is one of the locations of reputed monk sightings 
[copyright Google Maps]

Although we often associate monks for their piety and religious devotion, monks were only human, susceptible to human urges. We don’t know for certain whether any Meaux’s monks absconded, perhaps to elope with young maiden down the road, say from Wawne, Sutton, Beverley, Hedon or Hull. Elsewhere cases weren’t uncommon. For example, it was common for abbots to have mistresses; some would visit the abbot whilst others would live with the abbot as an unofficial girlfriend or mistress. During Henry VIII dissolution of the monasteries in the sixteenth century, it was reported back that some abbots did not hide the fact they had mistresses. At Fountains the abbot was said to have kept six women at his house. At the Priory of Swine just down the road from Meaux, Elizabeth Copley, presumably a nun, was said to have had a child to a priest. One Bishop even claimed that houses of nuns were found ‘almost all with child’.

Illustration of Cistercian Nun of the Priory of Swine from Thompson's History of the Church and Priory of Swine, published 1824
[Ref: L.9.64 SW]

For individuals who strayed from a good, pious life devoted to the almighty things could be dangerous. It is reputed that a nun of Swine eloped with a local man. Caught, the nun was returned to the priory whilst the chap in question, her lover, was said to have been killed. Could a monk or two from Meaux have gone AWOL in the search of lust or love, but with it have met an unfortunate end? Could the families have found out about a forbidden affair between a monk and their daughter or son and sought retribution, perhaps even murder?

In most cases monks were men of God, religious and pious folk. They looked after the ill and infirm, devoted their life to God and Christ whilst devoting prayers to the dying and dead. As noted, some were fallible to the flesh. And there is no reason not to believe some were fallible to the coin. Bribery and corruption weren’t unheard of among monastic orders. In 1399 Robert Leconfield misappropriated money and fled Meaux Abbey. Whether other individuals from the abbey were up no good, we simply don’t know. Had bribery, corruption or theft gone on, could one or two seemly innocent deaths or accidents be more sinister? For example, had a good, honest monk uncovered a fellow brothers’ shady dealings? Perhaps a few choice words were spoken before a struggle or fight ensued. Could the dishonest brother wanting to maintain his secret dispatched his fellow brethren, but made it look like an accident, hid the body, or disposed of it secretly?

Whilst this blog doesn’t prove the existence of ghosts (this is down to personal beliefs) all we've done here is simply use the material held at the History Centre to offer possible explanations why sightings of monks have been reported over the decades, probably centuries, and why in particular, Bransholme and its residents have been subject to such reputed sightings.

Look out for our next blog in July when we look at the reputed sightings of Cavillers, which like the monks of Meaux Abbey are said to have been seen on Bransholme.

Neil Chadwick

Librarian/Archivist