Ghostly Monks

In the winter of 1872, as mist wove through the crumbling arches of Buckfast Abbey, a lone shepherd stumbled upon a sight that would unsettle the quiet valley for years to come. William Petherbridge, his flock restless in the thickening fog, halted near the ruined cloister, his breath catching at the spectral procession before him—figures in robes of grey and white, their movements soundless, their presence as fleeting as the dying light. Were they remnants of Buckfast’s lost past, the monks who once prayed within these sacred walls, or mere phantoms conjured by the valley’s long memory? As word of the sighting spread, others came forward with their own encounters, each tale carrying the same eerie weight: silent forms gliding through the abbey ruins, bound to a time long gone, yet unwilling—or unable—to fade into history.