1612 - it was a time of darkness and distrust for the South West - riled up by the Protestant Reformation, plus the admission of the tyrannical Lady Jane Scott as the new Duchess of Shipton Moyne, Man turned against Man as the decadent, feudal way of life started to disintegrate. A great one for -genuinely scary- folk lore, my great grandfather often told me the story of Alfred La Bruja, a poor Spanish man who'd made his way to Tetbury after escaping from a crab ship in Gloucester docks. La Bruja, he worked dilligently as a farm hand and general errand-runner in the estates around Tetbury, even though he was entirely MUTE. Naturally, the local fiefs and barons had rarely encountered such a work ethic --incredulity, followed by suspicion, followed by out-and-out distrust. The 17th century was a time that saw the British economy change quite naturally, but as the small shops of Tetbury stuggled to survive, the 'Societiee of Gift and Antique Shoppe Owners' could only draw one conclusion: THEIR SHOPPES HAD BEEN CURSED BY ALFRED LA BRUJA, MAN-WITCH. And so on the night of October 12 1612, La Bruja was CHASED from Tetbury by the baying mob of townsfolk, finally meeting his end at this lonely lagoon, where he was said to have been drowned.
Or was he? Some say he managed to escape the mob, finding his way to the more enlightened climes of the Dursley valley, where he made a successful life for himself in the mills and factories.
But still other accounts insist that no body was ever recovered from the lagoon. And sometimes, on particularly stormy and windswept days, you might just see La Bruja's eyes --peeping up at you, from the duckweed--
Like Martin Sheen
In Apocalypse Now.