Fitz

With such deep history murmuring away beneath the stones of Saltergate, how could there not be ghosts up here? But we must pull ourselves back from these ancient tombs and return to the 17th century, at a time when the crown had just doubled the tax on salt, an extortionate increase, making an essential commodity for the local fishing trade cripplingly unaffordable.

With such deep history murmuring away beneath the stones of Saltergate, how could there not be ghosts up here? But we must pull ourselves back from these ancient tombs and return to the 17th century, at a time when the crown had just doubled the tax on salt, an extortionate increase, making an essential commodity for the local fishing trade cripplingly unaffordable.

So what else could they do but turn to the black market?

So what else could they do but turn to the black market?

Before tales of smuggling and taxmen became embedded in the Saltersgate story, another older tale was told about a different kind of villain who infiltrated the safe haven of the Moorland Inn, the devil himself.

Before tales of smuggling and taxmen became embedded in the Saltersgate story, another older tale was told about a different kind of villain who infiltrated the safe haven of the Moorland Inn, the devil himself.

This legend starts, fittingly enough, on a dark and stormy night, when any wind-blasted traveller crossing the moors would have been wise to seek shelter in the welcoming warmth of a cosy hostelry. Even supernatural beings of the underworld, who just happened to be in the neighbourhood.

This legend starts, fittingly enough, on a dark and stormy night, when any wind-blasted traveller crossing the moors would have been wise to seek shelter in the welcoming warmth of a cosy hostelry. Even supernatural beings of the underworld, who just happened to be in the neighbourhood.

But before Beelzebub could take even a sip of his refreshing ale, his cover was blown by a priest who was also seeking respite within the sturdy walls of the coaching house, then known as the wagon and horses. The priest leapt into action, trying to oust the devil with an exorcism, but the devil had been quite looking forward to that ale actually and decided he wasn't going anywhere.

But before Beelzebub could take even a sip of his refreshing ale, his cover was blown by a priest who was also seeking respite within the sturdy walls of the coaching house, then known as the wagon and horses. The priest leapt into action, trying to oust the devil with an exorcism, but the devil had been quite looking forward to that ale actually and decided he wasn't going anywhere.

Enter once more the heroic landlord to save the day. Does anyone else get the sneaking suspicion that it was always the landlord relating these stories, and making sure their role as the defeater of evil wasn't forgotten? Hmm?

Enter once more the heroic landlord to save the day. Does anyone else get the sneaking suspicion that it was always the landlord relating these stories, and making sure their role as the defeater of evil wasn't forgotten? Hmm?

Anyway, with much bravery and daring do, I'm sure, the landlord somehow managed to trap the devil in the fireplace of the inn with the smoke from a freshly lit peat fire, which meant, of course, that to keep the devil from escaping and wreaking revenge on his captors, they would have to keep that fire burning forever.

Anyway, with much bravery and daring do, I'm sure, the landlord somehow managed to trap the devil in the fireplace of the inn with the smoke from a freshly lit peat fire, which meant, of course, that to keep the devil from escaping and wreaking revenge on his captors, they would have to keep that fire burning forever.

I love when stories layer and evolve like this, and it's fascinating seeing the evolution of metaphor from actual devil to the most wicked, evil, mundane thing that 17th century people could dream up. Taxes. But this story does present a bit of a problem.

I love when stories layer and evolve like this, and it's fascinating seeing the evolution of metaphor from actual devil to the most wicked, evil, mundane thing that 17th century people could dream up. Taxes. But this story does present a bit of a problem.

If The Devil in the Fireplace is the original story, but the inn only opened in 1643 and the doubled salt tax happened around 1696, then that only leaves around half a century for the story to have evolved from devil to excise officer. In the words of the dread pirate Roberts, that doesn't leave much time for dilly-dallying. Of course, 50 years is still a decent stretch, so it is possible.

If The Devil in the Fireplace is the original story, but the inn only opened in 1643 and the doubled salt tax happened around 1696, then that only leaves around half a century for the story to have evolved from devil to excise officer. In the words of the dread pirate Roberts, that doesn't leave much time for dilly-dallying. Of course, 50 years is still a decent stretch, so it is possible.

Or maybe there was an older inn on this same site before. I couldn't find any mention of one, but I couldn't find any historic England references for the Salters Gate either. There is, though, quite a lot of evidence in the immediate vicinity for Iron Age and Roman agricultural settlements and evidence of land use into the medieval. So who knows?

Or maybe there was an older inn on this same site before. I couldn't find any mention of one, but I couldn't find any historic England references for the Salters Gate either. There is, though, quite a lot of evidence in the immediate vicinity for Iron Age and Roman agricultural settlements and evidence of land use into the medieval. So who knows?