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Shelfanger’s Spectral Legacy: The Haunting of Bumbler's Farm

Writer's picture: Stacia BriggsStacia Briggs

At the close of the 19th century, Bumbler's Farm in Shelfanger, near Diss, became the setting for an eerie series of events that terrified even the most steadfast locals. 


Doors slammed shut or swung open as if moved by unseen forces, a kitchen towel roller spun furiously without cause, and delicate ornaments in the parlour crashed to the ground unbidden. Witnesses even reported glimpses of a spectral woman, her figure fleeting but unforgettable.


Though the farm has since faded into obscurity, its sinister reputation lingered long after the house crumbled into ruins and its once-feared pond dried to nothing. So notorious were the tales attached to this place that even in its derelict state, many avoided passing too close.

A Norfolk cottage at night. Date: 1886. CREDIT: Peter Henry Emerson / Rijksmuseum
A Norfolk cottage at night. Date: 1886. CREDIT: Peter Henry Emerson / Rijksmuseum

In 1957, a local newspaper shared the recollections of a then 77-year-old Thomas Clifton Porcher, a local farmer at Glebe Farm, some 30 acres near Shelfanger. Porcher remembered Bumbler's Farm vividly—not only because he was born there but because of the chilling family lore tied to its former owner, Dinah Freeman.


“Following a dispute over land, she cut her throat,” Porcher recounted, his words dripping with the weight of the tale passed down generations. “And then, with a heavy candlestick in her hand, she made her way out of the farmhouse and into the pond.”


According to Porcher, the candlestick remained in the pond for years, its presence a crucial detail of the local superstition. “The story went that if the pond was ever dredged, the candlestick had to remain where it was,” he explained. His father, having inherited the legend from his own grandfather, warned the family of dire consequences should the candlestick be disturbed.


Inevitably, the warning was ignored. When Porcher was just six years old, the pond was cleaned, and the mud revealed the long-hidden candlestick. That night, chaos erupted in the farmhouse: doors slammed violently, objects were hurled to the floor, and a ghostly woman appeared, her figure unmistakably menacing. Porcher’s father, in a desperate bid to restore order, hired workers to search through the mud and return the candlestick to the pond.

But it was too late: while the disturbances subsided somewhat, they never truly stopped. 


Porcher’s family eventually left Bumbler's Farm, and the house was abandoned. His brother once saw the apparition of a woman inside, while his sister-in-law and housekeeper, Mrs. H. Porcher, refused to go near the building.


The mystery of Dinah Freeman’s death is partially illuminated by official records. She was buried on October 26, 1814, at the age of 36. The Monthly Magazine or British Register of that year tells a tragic tale of illness and desperation: confined to her bed by a fever, she managed to escape during a “paroxysm of strength” and plunged into a deep pond. Though a neighbour risked their life to pull her from the water, her body could not survive the shock of the sudden cold, and she died within hours.


Over the years, fireside retellings embellished her story into something far darker. The slitting of her throat, the cursed candlestick, and her restless spirit seeking vengeance became woven into local folklore. And the ghostly happenings of Shelfanger don’t end with Dinah. 


On Wash Lane, near the church and ford, a chilling encounter from the 1990s adds another layer to the village’s supernatural legacy.  A mother and her young child, driving through the village late one night, were startled by the apparition of a burning man who ran across the road before them. His fiery figure flickered and vanished before their eyes. Could he, too, have been searching for Dinah’s pond, desperate for the salvation it had denied him?


For Shelfanger’s residents, the past lingers just beneath the surface, its secrets seeping into the present like mist over the fields—a haunting reminder that some stories refuse to rest.


 

You can listen to our podcast episode about the Shelfanger haunting below:



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