Following my notes concerning the potent skull lately stolen from Wardley Hall, near Manchester, it appears there exists another skull with the same malevolent characteristics. According to a correspondent, it is to be found at a farm in a hamlet named Tunstead, near Chapel-en-le-Frith, Derbyshire, and is familiarly known as Dick-o’-Tunstead.

This skull was the head of a certain Ned Dickson, who long ago went to fight in the wars… I’m not sure which ones. As he had been away for such a length of time, his cousin conveniently believed him to be dead, and entered into his property. But Ned presently turned up, and fearing that the farm would slip from their grasp, the cousin and his wife murdered the soldier in his sleep. Somehow the skull found a resting place on the farm, where it lies to-day, and like the Wardley skull, shows a distinct aversion from being moved.

One tenant of the farm did not care to have the skull about, and accordingly had it buried in Chapel-en-le-Frith churchyard. No sooner had this been done than some of the cattle died, others strayed away, while during the night the furniture was tossed about in utter confusion. These misfortunes continued, and it was suggested to the tenant that the skull should be replaced in its original position in an old cheese vat in a recess in the staircase. So it was exhumed and replaced, and order was immediately restored. Once when the house was being rebuilt, the skull was carelessly thrown aside by the workmen, and each morning, on their return to work, some damage had been done overnight. Evidently this was Dicky’s way of showing resentment, for when the skull was sought and replaced, things again became normal. 

When the London and North Western Railway Company built the line past the farm, the foundations of one of the bridges was continually giving way. This was believed to be due to Dicky’s objections, and in consequence, I am told, the line was removed some distance away. It seems incredible.