Today, we'll tell you a story, well not one, nor two, but three
A tale of hidden secrets, human wickedness, and misery
In a place of such ethereal beauty, evil descended, as a full moon came
They only talk in whispers, of what happened in the woods by Nan Tucks Lane
It was written three times on a Sussex village, a madness would descend
And that the weight of their guilty conscience, would be hard to comprehend
Only when a full moon came on Samhain, and its light hit the woodland altar would it come to be
The years were 1606, 1807, and All Hallows Eve in 2020.
The pay of the sins that took place, outside the village in Tucks Wood
Was that they would be forever haunted, by those who were dealt no good
And the locals who knew the secrets, and others who heard the rumours knew
They should never go down Nan Tucks Lane, lest a haunting put a madness on you
That’s why they called it Nan Tucks Lane, to remind them of the terrible past
No one talked about the hauntings, but a place name, it would last
They say at the place of the murders, is an area where nothing grows
To this day lay a barren circle, deep in the woods where nobody goes
----
We start our tale in 1606, just outside Buxted village in a shack
Where lived a woman of simple mind, an education she did lack
She'd grown old alone among the trees, her few family had long passed away
But she understood life more than the villagers, who mocked her everyday
Strange happenings in the village, got the locals wandering and talking
About the simple woodland woman, who they sometimes saw out walking
Suspicious minds whispered tales of witchcraft, in the woods at night
They said it was Nan, she's strange and odd, she clearly isn't right
Their fear and ignorance of difference, reached a fevered pitch
They dragged poor Nan from her home, and chanted in unison 'burn the witch!'
They took her to the river Uck, and bound her hands and feet
Drowning would prove her innocence, survive and a fiery end she would meet
Just as they were about to throw her in, from the ropes she struggled free
Nan ran from the baying crowd, and in the fields she found some sanctuary
She'd heard of the church, how they would help a troubled soul in fear
But when she tried, the priest replied, 'we won’t have your witchcraft here'
The priest gave chase with the baying mob, Nan hid deep in the woods she knew best
She used all her cunning to evade them, and she found a place to rest
Moonlight came through empty autumn branches, to the leafy ground
It bounced off the jewellery round her neck, a silver coin so round
The priest did see the flash of light, as it glinted in his eye
'String her up' the holy man cried, 'tonight Nan Tuck will die'
Up went the rope over the bough, a lynching of a terrified woman they did see
On a cold blue Samhain night, Nan Tuck swung from the old Yew tree
Right before the lynching, Nan bowed her head and whispered to the tree
Incantations set free in the night, until from her body she was free
'A curse, a curse on all you here, I'll haunt you to your dying day'
And stay well clear of Nan Tucks Lane, she quietly did say.
----
Our tale brings us to 1807, approaching all hallows night,
A full blue moon was forecast, t'would be a glorious sight
Old Nan Tuck had melted into lore, along the passing years
But when they went down Nan Tucks Lane, still they got the fears
In the village lived a woman named Nancy, local outcast born and bred
Daughter of the Tuckers, farm hands with a hidden secret, it was said
The Tuckers found their treasure, in a world that could be so plain
They named her from the woods she was born, alongside Nan Tucks Lane
The years went by and Nan married Tom, who ran the village bakery
For many years the cutest couple, that anyone ever did see
But in later years, she would read at home while he went to the pub at night
Sometimes under drink he would beat her, then loves spell would feel like fright
She used to pick wild mushrooms, in the woods off Nan Tucks Lane
To get out of the house was a blessing, to be in the woods just kept her sane
She delved into her deepest woodland, to under the ancient Yew
And found the hidden circle, it was the place where nothing grew
Except this time were some mushrooms, that looked like little ceps so plain to see
save for 3 little dots like the mark on her arm, so she picked them for Tom's tea
She put them in the stew, served to her husband ‘fore he went to drink his brew
But Tom would be going nowhere, he gasped and choked to death on Nan Tuck's stew
As Tom lay slumped at the table, Nan panicked and ran into the wood
Soon they found Tom laying there, the villagers cried 'murder', 'we knew she was no good'
He was a man of good standing, and she was born insane by her dad and mum
She must be an evil woman, very soon her end will come
They eventually caught up with her, by the ancient Yew tree
They beat her to the ground, and laughed so callously
They strung her up like Nan before her, over the bough of the yew
And they cheered as she gasped for breath, they watched her choke and turn a deathly blue
Before Nan finally passed, she spat out a final word or two
All they made out was 'my woods... madness, - ... circle ...death ...and I'll haunt you'
And they gave Tom a decent send off, the pub was packed that for the wake that night
While they left Nan strung from the yew, then buried what was left of her ‘neath the hanging site
----
No words were spoken of Nan, much like her namesake before
And all was very quiet, people wouldn't venture down the lane much anymore
Some who did came back different, for some time they couldn't speak
Of the horrors and hauntings they saw, down Nan Tucks Lane and in their sleep
The was a local rumour, that the ghost of both women were there
They had met in spirit in the woodland, and their grisly stories they did share
It seems they may have made a pact, to be together on Nan Tucks Lane
And if anyone ever did meet them, their ghosts would drive the trespasser insane
Many could here strange noises, and cold spots on a summer's day
For some an eerie noise or feeling, that made them stay away
maybe running water where there was none, or a shadow moving quick
Sometimes a breeze that sounded like whispers, or a fog unusually thick
But when the Nan’s decided, you were a bully or had a black soul
Then you’d better stay away from the lane, or the sisters would take their toll
Those people would see their apparitions, from which they could not break free
Until finally the women decided, it was time to let them be
They'd show them all the horror they could muster, and scare them half to death
And they would drive them further to insanity, with each and every breath
They would return to the village, or from wherever that they came
Not saying a single word for weeks, the sisters had driven them insane
They left to those that showed them kindness, and would let good people be
show respect for them and their place, they would always let you roam free
Down the lane and amongst the trees, that are touched by their fair hand
And even to the magical yew tree, surrounded by the circle of barren land
----
Two hundred years later, we find ourselves in 2020
Would this be the year the madness, returns to Sussex County
A full moon on Halloween is due, will it touch the woodland altar with its light
It was written that three times the insanity, would fire up the Autumn night.
The story of the Nan's has been diluted, by the rivers of time again
But many still don't like the feeling they get, on a trip down Nan Tucks Lane.
Morphed into just one fable, and eroded from memories now unclear
Perhaps the history suggests, that 2020 might just be the year
So this All Hallows Eve who knows, if the madness may occur once more
The Sisters in the wood will be waiting, of that you can be sure
There's a tense feeling around, as we reach Autumn months this year
By those who know the stories of Nan Tuck, there is a certain fear
And if what was written in the stars is realised, this full moon Halloween
Next time in another town or village, this awful story could be seen
So watch out around Samhain this year, if the full moons light you can see
Not just if you’re in a Sussex village, perhaps anywhere the madness might be
And if the Samhain moon shines, on the barren circle round the ancient Yew tree
You know that there will be trouble, and a madness there will be
And of course take care if you venture, down to Nan Tucks Lane
Lest a madness is put upon you, and it drives your mind insane
