Suffolk Folk: East Anglian Tales for the 21st Century

The Faines are said to be large animals the size of cows. With their enormous glowing saucer eyes, they haunt the village of Hethersett at night. Nobody quite knows what these terrifying creatures look like, but there are many tales of the beasts. Each storyteller has had their own version, and here is mine.

This is the tale of Malekin. It is not well known for it happened many long centuries ago.Some say that on occasion a baby was taken from its parents by fairy folk and spirited away to live in ‘another world’.At Dagworth Manor in Suffolk there came a visitor, a strange spirit who called himself Malekin who made the Manor his home for many years. Malekin was said to be a bright and clever spirit, but young and incorrigible. He spoke in many languages but always in the voice of a one-year old child.The tale tells that the family of Dagworth Manor, a knight and his family, heard a voice in the upper rooms. At first, they were afraid of what they heard, but soon the childish chatter began to engage them and they warmed to its owner. They began to communicate with the spirit and Malekin amused them with his funny ways and his tendency to gossip.

St. Peters church stands in the centre of a vast, Suffolk landscape. Through the centuries, Suffolk has become been famous for its many churches, often in forgotten and isolated spots in the countryside. As the pivotal landmark in the rural village of Westleton, St Peter's is home to a deadly tale. Amber's story will send shivers through you!

The story of Eva of Dunwich by Muriel Moore-Smith       Many years ago, when Dunwich was a bustling port and not the tiny hamlet it is today, a young girl, Eva, was out walking along its harbour walls. In the distance, she spied a ship with magnificent sails. Curious, she hurried towards the place where the ship was moored.            Securing the ropes of the vessel was a sailor who looked up from his task and saw Eva, with her rust-coloured hair plaited down her strong back and her cream dress tipped with black. He told her she was beautiful, a child of nature. He said that if she met with him that evening, he would bring her riches the like of which she had never seen.            Eva agreed and later that evening, she met the sailor as arranged. It was then that he told her he loved her. And again, later in the dead of night, and later still, in the dark of dawn. But when Eva woke in the morning, the sailor was gone.           On the horizon, the sailor’s ship was far away and slipping out of view. Eva looked down at her torn dress and ran a hand through her tangled hair. Her heart ached for his words of love. In an anguish of sorrow for all she had lost, she reached inside her dress and ripped out her heart, throwing it towards the vanishing ship. Today, if you walk along Dunwich beach, in amongst the pebbles and driftwood and pieces of brick, you might find a wooden heart. However much you look, don’t pick it up; its sorrow may become your sorrow.

You may have heard the tale of the fairy who was stolen in the dead of night? But, as is the way of magical stories, it must be told again. A farmer, who lived near Bury St. Edmund’s, had noticed that someone was stealing his wheat. Enraged, for he thought it was his competitor, he set a trap for the thief. He hid amongst the hay bales and waited until the moon had risen and owls hooted in the night. To his surprise, he did not see the neighbouring farmer. Instead, before his eyes was a crowd of merry fairies...