I heard ghosts this morning.

I’d heard them before, but I thought at the time I’d been dreaming – half awake and imagining things. I seem to spend more and more of my life in such a state. But I’d been awake a good ten minutes when this happened.

These were ghosts. Real ghosts.

I knew the sound wasn’t anything “everyday” because of the sheer noise. It sounded like scores, hundreds of horses maybe, trotting down Swain’s Lane and dragging heavy carriages behind them. My bedroom is about twenty metres or so from the lane, but this sounded like it was right outside my window. The volume was like nothing else.

I had a clear image of them in my head – white steeds, the steam whisping from their nostrils as they stomped across the damp tarmac, their hooves growing muddy as they hauled the carriages behind them. It lasted only thirty seconds or so, seeming to stop as abruptly as it started – fading very quickly into silence. This would have been about 7:30am.

Having heard this before, I had a quick look on the internet for any records of this. I didn’t find much, but I did find reference to the sound of horses’ hooves and carriage wheels heard in Pond Square (directly at the top of Swain’s Lane) by a Terrence Long in 1943. This was however tied in with the peculiar local myth of the Phantom Chicken of Pond Square. Don’t laugh. It’s true.

Further information on activity surrounding North London’s very own Hellmouth can be found here.