A short walk winding footpath across two fields from the village H… Brings the traveller with a taste for the macabre to Morley wood.
Wandering through dancing golden patches made on the forest floor, by the sunlight on a warm May morning, it isdifficult to imagine how gloomy and bleak this corner of Southern England can be in Autumn.
The wood has within its bounds, a notorious landmark. Owen Gurney's cottage. This stark gaunt dwelling is named after a notorious local criminal.
In the year 1887 this was a scene of a heartbreaking tragedy. A farm worker at the nearby Morley farm. The hulking red headed Gurney had a reputation for drunkenness and wild behaviour.
The reasons why, on a turbulent October evening, that Gurney attacked his young wife Maria and baby son Caleb remain to this day, unknown. Perhaps the financial uncertainties inherent in the life of a 19th century farm labourer combined with an unfortunate fondness for rough cider (still flavoured with lead at this time) had exacerbated his turbulent temper.
Gurney was found, having drunk himself insensible, lying across the doorway to his cottage by the manager of Morley farm having sought him out for his lateness. Gurney's infant son was found dead in his simple cot inside the cottage. The body of his wife was nowhere to be seen, although the violent disarray in the kitchen strongly indicated that she was deceased.
After a short trial, Gurney faced the ultimate penalty for his actions and met his end at the skilled hands of the county hangman.
An enterprising local undertaker by the name of Spiers made a cast of the murderers hands and would show them to members of the public for a small fee. When memories of the sensational crime had faded he sold them to an eccentric Spinster Miss Crimp who had taken on the cottage as a location for her lucrative business selling herbal remedies and lucky charms.
Miss Crimp had the plaster hands mounted outside on the wall next to the front door. She added this curious inscription underneath….
If a cruel man in your heart you be,
Hold the hands that damned me,
For they shall not let go of thee.
Local tradition has it that if anyone who has harmed another grasps one Gurney's hands, he will find himself unable to let go. By the 1930’s this had become a popular ( if in questionable taste ) activity for guests on walking tours staying at the nearby Bull Inn.
In 1935 a prosperous Doctor John Fortescue, who was hiking in the area, grasped one of the hands and, having found himself unable to let go, wrenched it free from the cottage wall.
Several hours later, in a state of delirium, he walked into the village police station and confessed to poisoning his wealthy wife 6 years previously. The cast of Gurney's left hand, still attached to the doctor, so firmly grasped his hand that blood dripped from underneath his fingernails.
The cast of Gurney's right hand remains, covered in dirt and cobwebs, in its place by the door in the porch of the now dilapidated building.Perhaps it is still waiting for it’s opportunity to be an instrument of justice.
To this day locals say that the sad figure of Maria Gurney can be seen wandering in the woodland, some say in the vicinity of her never found grave.
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