Happisburgh (pronounced ‘Hazeboro’) is on the Norfolk coast between Cromer and Great Yarmouth. The village has links to many fascinating historical events; it is also the scene of a grim haunting that has been consistently observed since the 18th Century.

The churchyard contains the unmarked grave of the ‘Happisburgh Poisoner’ Jonathan Balls. Legend says that he accidentally took some of his own poison and that, knowing his soul was bound for Hell, he asked to be buried with a Bible and a plum cake in one hand, plus a poker and a pair of coal-tongues in the other. The local people evidently feared that Ball would not remain decently in his coffin. Evil people and suicides were commonly supposed to become vampires after death; thus the English often took precautions to make sure that such corpses didn’t rise from their graves to prey on the living. Potential vampires were buried at cross-roads or provided with handfuls of rice or seeds (both ploys intended to delay the undead until dawn - by making them deliberate over which direction to take or compelling them to count each grain). Apart from being buried in unhallowed ground, those who’d taken their own lives were frequently staked through the heart - a practise that wasn’t banned by legislation in England until 1834. Six months after the Poisoner’s death, his body was exhumed; it had been perfectly preserved by the arsenic he had taken. Perhaps, like other infamous users of toxic substances, he’d consumed the poison in small, ever-increasing amounts in order to build up an immunity? How the citizens of Happisburgh reacted to Balls’ vampire-like appearance is not recorded.

A large mound on the north side of the graveyard is the final resting place of 119 members of the warship HMS Invincible - wrecked with 400 men aboard on Haisbro Sands on 13th March, 1801- she was on her way to meet Nelson's fleet at Copenhagen during the wars against Napoleon. Also buried there are 32 members of the crew of HMS Peggy - lost on 19th December, 1770  and most of the crew of the revenue cutter Hunter - lost in 1804.

Off the coast, beneath the pounding waves, stand the remains of another village called Eccles. In the 17th Century, during the reign of Charles I, it was claimed by the sea. One storm destroyed over seventy houses and took three hundred lives. It is said that parts of the village are visible beneath the surface at low very tide; local fishermen have long claimed to hear the submerged bells of Eccles Church when the waters are turbulent - hearing them toll is believed to presage storms and death. Skeletons from the drowned churchyard are still washed ashore from time to time. In 1986 large portions of Eccles were exposed by a temporary fall in sea level. The tower of the church (which has a distinctive octagonal belfry) was visible during that period. Sadly, Happisburgh seems poised to share the same fate as Eccles. Coastal erosion has caused cliffs and significant areas of land to collapse; the government is apparently doing nothing to restore or improve the sea-defences

The Happisburgh’s spectre was first seen one night in 1765. Two farmers making their way home near Whimpwell Street, saw a frightening hump-backed shape walking under the moonlight. As their eyes began to map the figure better, they realised that it walked despite being legless and apparently without a head. However, as it came closer and passed them, they could see it in profile and saw that it did have a head. The peculiar ‘hump’ was its nearly-severed head; it rested on the phantom’s back; attached to its neck by just a thin strip of flesh.

The shade wore sailor’s clothing and clasped a rough brown sack to its chest. Followed by the two men, who were frightened but curious; it disappeared into the depths of the well at Well Corner. The two men informed the village council; it was decided to put their story to the test by investigating the bottom of the well. A man with a grappling hook was lowered down on a sling. He ranged around with his hook and latched on to an object; the villagers at the top of the well responded to his signal and hauled both him and his catch up. He’d hooked a sack similar to the one clutched by the ghost. When it was opened, a pair of boots was revealed. Still in the boots were the legs of the unfortunate ghost!

Following this discovery, the well was drained. The villagers found another (larger) sack which held a torso dressed in sailor’s clothing. Attached to the neck of the torso, by a narrow ribbon of rotting skin, was the hanging head. Round the body was a belt; a pistol was tucked into it. The villagers retraced the track of the ghost; near Cart Gap they found signs of a fierce struggle - bloodstains, broken bottles and a pistol which matched the one found on the body. The evidence suggested a fight between smugglers over the division of their booty. One of them was killed by his associates - who cut him into pieces (no doubt to make it easier to transport his remains) and threw all the parts of his body down the well.

The ‘Pump Hill Ghost’ (as he was subsequently named) appeared regularly on moonlit nights and was frequently heard moaning at the bottom of the shaft until the well was capped by a pump. The haunting then ceased. But when the pump was removed, horrible groans were heard again. The chilling sounds stopped abruptly when the pump was re-installed. After years of use, the pump was taken off again; the moaning came back and the figure of the legless torso resumed its nocturnal journey; gliding on non-existent legs from the shore to the well, with it's head wobbling in a grotesque fashion.