Tarot, Psychic and life readings, psychic and 'general' art, healing and monologues aplenty!


Voodoo.. Hoodoo....you do...do what?

Posted by Tia Price on March 4, 2015 at 3:00 AM Comments comments (1)

I have always had an avid interest in all things spiritual. I loved witches, the paranormal, ghosts. A natural empath I always felt things and have made a career out of it, working professionally as a psychic and tarot reader for the last eight years. I love giving healing and messages of love and guidance to people, and the beautiful vibration that comes from spirit never fails to lift me and help me and keep me working with it.

This said, I didn't always work with the light.

It's not that I was particularly 'dark' but at seventeen I went through some very difficult and life altering experiences, things that would catapult me onto this path. But, you can't know the light until you know the dark, especially that which comes from yourself.

As a naturally empathic and emotional person, I became nihilistic, very selfish and interested in magick. I was drawn to Winchester to study, the Druid capital of England, and on my third day found a broomstick whilst walking back to halls. When I went to University, and in those first six months I 'bumped into' three mediums who were studying in the same year as myself, all gave me messages of encouragement, and from a specific person that at that time I very much needed to hear from. I even attended a few Pagan moots, but found that particular group uncomfortably elitist. I also encountered a girl who claimed was the great-great-great granddaughter of Aleister Crowley, a renowned and controversial occultist, known for his work with the Golden Dawn and Gerald Gardener, the father of the modern witchcraft movement- that which is referred to as Wicca- and for the various dark arts he broadcast to the world he engaged in.

Though I was somewhat doubtful, on looking at this girl she actually did bear a resemblance to the man. I found myself talking about magic and Wicca and specifically the art of voodoo. I had once or twice attempted a poppet or voodoo doll, but nothing too big and quite half hearted. This girl then told me to add another ingredient to my basic poppet, as it would bind it together ( for the sake of safety I don't wish to disclose it, as I found very quickly that it worked). She also outlined the importance of intent, what I put out be it love or not would return to me times three. I was 18, selfish and self indulgent so my intentions were not at that point filled with love.

One afternoon, all my housemates, myself and a few visitors were crowded around our kitchen table, we were all smoking and the table was filled with dirty glasses and mugs as we weren't particularly tidy. The windows were wide open however so the smoke was drifting out. There was one particular girl there who I didn't like, for no real reason aside from being a little brash she didn't really have any outstanding quality that I would dislike, aside from monopolising conversation. Still, her presence was wearing on me and when she pulled her hair and out to re tie her hair I noticed an opportunity to test out the advice I'd been given. I took some hair from her hair band and then replaced it, due to all the detritus on the table she noticed nothing that I set up as I placed candles around the dolly and added the other ingredient. I then proceeded to blow smoke over the dolly, pure cigarette smoke just constantly. She turned to me and asked if we could open the windows wider as her eyes had begun to stream and it was too smoky. No one else was affected and the window was as wide as it could get. Amazed I thought to do something else and placed a pin into the side of the head of the little poppet. I watched. A few moments later she turned to me and asked if I had any paracetamol as she had a headache. I was astounded as I said no. She left shortly after, and I dismantled the doll only to excitedly babble to my housemates what I had done.

Naturally, they were skeptical and demanded I do it to one of them. I happily obliged but told the person in question to leave the room so that she couldn't see where I was placing the pin so as to fake it. I placed it into the centre of the face of the dolly where the nose would be. We called her back in, having hidden the dolly from view, seconds later and blood began to gush from her nose. My housemates were now unnerved as I dismantled the dolly. I was amazed, and a little frightened that so easily this could be done.

A friend of mine called a few days later, she was devastated as her boyfriend and first love had broken it off and was seeing someone else, though still sleeping with my friend. I asked her to come and stay so she could clear her head and she agreed. When she arrived I saw she was depleted and so sad because of this boy who I had always liked, but my friend was broken and he was treating her unfairly.

She spent a few days and seemed a little clearer and returned to our home town to work out her options.

A few weeks later I returned for the summer period and my friend and I met up a few times. On one occasion she brought me a hair she had found from her on off ex and we decided, as he was still playing with her feelings, to do a dolly. We arranged it all accordingly, and placed a pin in the groin and in the head. However, foolishly, we left the house still leaving the candles burning and had to return to blow them out a lot later than it should have been left.

For the next three weeks whenever they were together and attempting to be initiate, when he was aroused he would have a blinding migraine and could do nothing.

I am pleased to say that I do not do this sort of magic anymore; thankfully I was not interested in holding anyone by my own power but I definitely had my own comeuppance from doing such things- the law of three times three- as the years passed and I would warn anyone to avoid magick of this sort. It is always so much better to send love and forgiveness, always.

It was only good in one way, to have such proof that magick, intent and the occult are very real indeed and to mess with it, or those that practice it, is very dangerous indeed.

More spiders!

Posted by Tia Price on October 27, 2013 at 4:00 PM Comments comments (0)

I always feel nervous when I see spiders.

I don't mean the average kind, or the false widow variety that's been plugged into us now to fear ( tsk, damn media) I mean the metaphysical kind.

If I'm drawn to see webs, and if I 'see' spiders psychically, I feel a bit edgy.

Strangely last night in my readings I had a few moments where the cards made me notice the webs in the background.

Obviously as these were readings for others I thought little more of it.

Today, whilst resting my weary head, I had an image of a giant spider, pincers splayed out toward me.

To see them, is a warning. The size perhaps has meaning, and in this image it was huge.

Yup, troubles a' brewing and once again someone's a' fibbing.

Spiders have taken on the meaning of lies, and deceit, tangled webs woven, but they only catch up the person weaving. And really what's a little gossamer when a mighty hand smacks down upon it, to smite the web away.

That, however, is not the point.

To trick or deceive is still not nice to be on the receiving end of.

For someone to feel the need to lie, is also a little sad, because really, is there any need?

To protect feelings perhaps.

To sensationalise something a little dull, well, maybe.

But to lie to your loved one over anything seems unnecessary, foolish and ultimately, it just shines badly on you.

Honesty feels good.

Honesty shines out and then there's no need for fear, because with lies there is also fear. You wouldn't need to to lie if you weren't afraid of something.

Honesty, no matter how bad, can help you start again. Breathe deeply and just walk forward happily, knowing that the air is clear and there's no set of dark beady eyes watching you in the darkened corner of some silky trampoline trap.

Still, ill just wait it out and expect to hear some news soon, because the spiders are weaving and warning.

Magick Mirror.

Posted by Tia Price on September 14, 2012 at 2:20 AM Comments comments (0)

I am very blessed with a gift.

Well, i have many, present that come everyday, but also the more ingrained gifts that i have in order to keep me here, on this planet, doing this work.

Vital talents, to use, to have a reason, a meaning to be here.

Aside from love and all the other wonderful things i have and recognise.

The the abilities, and thus the mixed and many purposes.

But i centre on my psychic/ intuitive sensibilities now.

I have something of a window that sits to my right.

Sometimes i notice it seems like a long and twisty tunnel and its up to me if i want to follow down its magic vortex like rabbit hole.

Sometimes it grows to be the entire size of me, when im not quite getting it and they really need to dumb it down, it stretches to my entire height and they show me very very clearly.

Im flanked to my left and right by guides and helpers, and the window to my right seems to be the viewer through which i notice spirit, but also the clairvoyant messages.

But this also depends on my state and who-or if- i am reading for.

This window is magickal and incredible and i remember the day it appearred, so clearly, and i also remember when i really started to take note of it.

At the time i noticed it, it was something a little frightening, or perhaps more awe inspiring. This window into another world or reality. Having not experienced anything as 'out there' as that before it took some time to get used to, but the more i heeded what i saw, and mentionned it, the more i realised this was something of a portal to truth.

It appearred after i meditated, alone, and a little 'intoxicated'. I opened my chakras, whilst my then partner slept, burning strong incenses, i viewed it, and my God, i felt it. The burning heat of my base chakra, my kundalini snakes uncoiling up my back and igniting each energy centre in turn to open until at my crown i felt it open up to the heavens.

I literally felt my astral 'head' open.

I told you i was intoxicated...

After that experience, it never went away.

After that night i didn't stop seeing. Or feeling. Or hearing.

After that night all the world had changed for me, and would never be the same. I could see somewhere else and i could see truth, whenever i wanted to.

Even if i didn't want to...and i put up some resistance. Over time though its been the best friend i could ever have.

Wherever i put my focus the window showed me what i needed to know. Either through metaphor, instant image, through song, whatever system i was happy with in that moment.


My magick mirror.



Posted by Tia Price on September 14, 2012 at 2:00 AM Comments comments (0)

I have been told, on good authority, that i look like a kaliedoscope.

Not just me, we all do.

Think for a moment, suspend the disbelief, of the energy centres contained within our bodies.

There are seven levels to our auras, and there are about eight major chakras- not including hands and feet nor the three others that are still yet evolving- and they all vibrate at different rates and they all emit different colours.

Depending on our spiritual evolution and how well we've cleared them out.

Our auras are extensions of this, and this is how psychics, sensitives and healers see Auras.

They're meant to be bright, and when we first enter our little bodies, on our arrival, as our spirit gets sucked into the meat sack, they are bright.

We're innocent then and we shine.

We dazzle and sparkle, hence why people so love children, their honesty, the way they blaze and scream 'I am alive and i am here!'.

We dull ourselves over time, when our lessons come along and we have to accept other people and our responses.


As i say, we resemble kaliedoscopes.

The wheelie vortexes that vibrate with colour and light ever changing as our moods change, as we follow our hearts and as we follow our heads.

They cloud and morph and dwindle and ignite.

I imagine, in my case, when i stand on a stage that my solar plexus ignites like a volcano, because i never feel more of myself-ha- when i am 'being' someone else.

When i paint, its a gentle beam, apparently.

Or when i do readings, i get to explore and use my other more vibrant chakras to see. Thats when my head lights up.

Imagine seeing the world through those eyes, where everyone is colour and lights, shining, or mutely switched off, dulled down. Where you can see those who are following their purpose, no matter what it is, and those who are letting themselves be driven by someone/something else.

Thats the way he tells me he sees it.

It sounds lovely.


My own Autumnal Harvest.

Posted by Tia Price on August 13, 2012 at 11:00 AM Comments comments (0)

For months i have been getting visions of Autumn and Apples. It started two days into my shifts at the pub, perhaps because it was necessary for me to know in advance that it would not be there forever.

Consistently i have had these strong senations, of rich autumnal earth and apples.

The last came as a vision, of a young girl, her hair the colour of sacrel orange approaching me on a walk around a wood. Her arms filled with massive, succulent bramley apples, giving them to me.

The sense of Autumn so strong in this image, it took over my entire panarama and was so overwhelmingly sensory.

It was lovely.

To analyse, as im prone to do, and must because its insistent and encouraging, and 'they' want me to know.

The young girl, was perhaps about 15, so it marks a transition period between girl and woman.

Apples are indicative of harvest, and Autumn is that time.

I also have a major event of which i am part of for the entire Halloween season.

On Looking up the significance of Apple, i found that Apples are considered to be one of the fruits of the dead, and for this reason, Wiccan alters are often stacked high with apples on their boughs at the Autumn time.

Samhain (Halloween) is sometimes known as 'The Feast of Apples'. On reading this i shivered all over.

I can't wait.


Posted by Tia Price on July 5, 2012 at 4:45 AM Comments comments (0)

These are the words of an ex girlfriend, not a healer, or a psychic or someone who understands.

These are the words of a girl who had her heart consistently broken by you.

These are the words of someone who never had the chance to say 'why?' and 'what made you do that?' 'did i do something?'

I really should use the opportunity and stop running from you, but, all you want is my love, and that adolescent inside is on shutdown against you for the most part.

These are the words of the fourteen year old who loved you back on sight like a spell.

These are the words of the girl you so frequently watched in science class but never understood why you pretended and were so cruel.


These are the words of the girl who longed and wondered and then had and lost, so quickly, so seemingly insignificantly.

These are the words of the girl who can remember so many years later what you smell like and how you feel and how dark your eyes were and the texture of your hair. And know when that specific gaze is upon her.

These are the words of the girl who feels cornered every time she opens her eyes because you never seem to go away.

I opened my heart when i fell for you.

I closed it when you left.

I refused to feel the depth of that hurt, that grief, that love, that hurt cut so deep and it lodged just above my first rib on the right.

Because i was rejected again.

For no reason.

Other than being, 'me'.

And thus i never let you go. Never found peace. Never relinquished or allowed myself freedom from the hypnotic hold you seemed to have over me, and still now you mess with me and play mind games.

Everyday, i sense something to do with you.


I hear you crying, i see you at my door, to my right. I give myself over to smelling you and i see you trying to kiss me, over and over. Images of love, the last memories. Stepping into someone using their mouth, building on their existing thoughts.

The cold that lays itself in front of my hips and thighs, the strong sensations of adoration and yearning coiling their way up my body and pulling in the right places....and it is so very real.

Realer than 'reality'.

The visions.

Its always just two weeks ago for you.

And i fight with myself and i struggle because, i want all this.

I want to fall into the oblivion of daydream, my young self with feathered hair and higlights and long black skirts wants to fall into the vortex with you because the love never died, it didnt have a chance to blossom so how could it fall into the wooden box with you?

Love never dies, and thats worse.

Your body may have rotted, your possesions may be gone, your name rarely ever mentionned by others, but still, that love, so powerful, so overwhelming, so young .

Its used against me as a waepon.

I never really understood the phrase attack until i became aware, truly aware.

But, even as the teenager who ached, cloyed and day dreamed just about your face, i know when something is way past expired.

I punish myself for these feelings constantly, i punish myself for having ever loved you and for still now. For even writing this im angry at myself for not letting go, for giving over to 'you' again. Its too much, its so many years later and its so very easy to say just be over it. Its so easy to say 'he was a coward move on' because i am trying but, how pathetic is it to say 'he won';t let me let go. He wont let me forget' because i love him and i dont want to because hes a cockknocker dead or alive. Manipulative whiney and dry, he's an arse and i dont want to love him, i dont, but i do.

Thats honest at least.

I do.

More than anything and its all too late and its stupid and i dont want to. But i do.' And what a rare and unique gift and situation i have, i can still see him. I can smell him, taste him and feel him. Hear him. He hasnt gone so why should i let go? When i can still have a half cut version, a sepia and not full colour but still, its something right?'

I am just putting myself through pain.

Its a half hearted equivalent that will never be more than memory.

Its unhealthy.

I caught myself yesterday.

I have been a smoker for many years now, and it is ' a smokescreen' something we use to block our emotions. I caught myself. I was walking along and once again, for the fiftieth time you popped into my mind, and i thought ill ignore it and stopped to have a cigarette, and then i realised, i have been smoking heavily recently, im trying to block how i feel about you, shut off and dis associate.

And ive just done it again now. As soon as i started to cry a little over these genuine and honest feelings i stopped myself and told myself off for feeling this way and rolled a cigarette instead.

How fascinating to see my own behaviours at work.

But its easier to acnowledge you rather than pretend youre not there.

With knowledge comes power, when you face things you take your power back.


These are the words of someone who knows she must move forward and let you go.

These are the words of the girl who doesnt want to.

These are the words of the spirit who loves her back.

These are just words.




You're gone.



A Dream.

Posted by Tia Price on May 24, 2012 at 10:55 AM Comments comments (0)

It was two days before Beltaine- April 28th to anyone unawares. My phone rang and i answered it.

The lady had booked me and wanted the reading the day before there and then, i felt prompted to say no, for no real reason, just Thursday seemed better. Thursday came, the phone rang and we got down to it....it was ok but there seemed a disconnect.

'Can i stop you? I'd like to tell you about a dream i had..' midway through the reading, she said.

'I have to tell you about it, i dont know why, i had it last night. But it seems i need to.'

'Ok' i said, intrigued 'Please do'

'I was walking by a farm with my husband, in English countryside. It was so beautiful and green, you know real rich English countryside- the lady was born in India and had travelled around and like so many people had fallen in love with the rolling hills and green woodlands- and we were just walking passed this farm.

'We came to a wood and my husband was gone and i walked through, there were circles of light about seven or eight and i was told to step into one. When i did, sparks flew off at my feet, you know like the firecrackers that little boys throw at pavements?' -'Mmhmm' i responded already analysing and smiling.

'They just kept sparkling and there were people everywhere creating circles and like a hum and the wood was so beautiful. Then i noticed that there was a man and a lady, elegantly dressed but the lady was so short -im shivering as i type- and she was so fat but she seemed lovely. They just came up to me and i greeted them, i didnt know why they were there but it felt like this was their wood. Dusk began to fall and they left. And i woke up...can you tell me what this means?'

I was shivering all over, it seemed to me one of the most profound Pagan dreams id ever heard and so went on to explain.

Traditionally young pagans would go into the wood the night before Beltaine/May Day, randomly select a partner and make love in honour to the Goddess. This was the night the new God would be created and made, her virginity taken and her transition from maid to mother. The mother would take her consort, a young man and make love in the woods at dusk.

The 7/8 circles of light are indicative of the seven chakras, though some, myself included, count 8 major chakras. The absence of her husband showed her growth into personal power and the fizzing fire crackers of her awakening sense of self, through a pagan path. The Farm showed humans and man, how we harness and take control of our surroundings, her husband represnted that. In the wood, a higher power took over.

The circles of people, well, circles are where the magic happens, in protection, group work and cleansing. And covens...

Then there was the Lady. THE Lady, who in all her depictions as mother and Goddess, Mut Figures has always been a fat woman, who shows the riches of the earths bounty, a life of riches and abundance and many children. Who approached her personally and blessed her.

Two days before the festivel.

The Festivel with the Maypole- a phallus- the colours of red and white to symbolise the blood and innocence of virginity broken and life anew. Fire, growth and Abundance. The Goddess Brigid and her flame of personal power.

And so, in my opinion she needed to do a ritual in the woods for the celebration. Alone.

'I always go to rivers to leave offerings to the earth. I knew i had to tell you, and thats why i had to wait a day, so i could have that dream, so you could explain it. Any another medium may not have known this. Thank you.'

I will admit, i wish i would have a dream that powerful, and i did say so.

I told her to go and read as much as she could about Paganism, Wicca and the Old Religion because she was being urged down that road. I shiver again.

That lady will be Powerful indeed.


Posted by Tia Price on May 18, 2012 at 6:15 AM Comments comments (0)

Its good to have goals, we all need them.

Something we want and we work hard toward, whether we get there or not- much like Stalins 5 year plans- it doesnt matter so much because it gives us something to work toward, enjoying the ride on the way there.

When we dont have goals well we fall down a bit dont we? We dont have something to aim toward, to achieve. So we stop trying.

Apparently, even when you're earthbound, dead, deceased in human form but meandering about because youve got not much else to do and you dont want to move on just yet, because something or someone keeps you here, its still valuable to have a focus.

Its good to have goals.

Its good to have an idea of something you want to achieve, and as i said apparently it doesnt matter whether youre dead or not.

The thing is, when we scooch on over to the otherside we will continue the work we had there, so we're never done, we love learning and we continue to do so 'over there'.

Usually, though, when youre earthbound, the reason you are is because you didnt believe in anything and so got stuck, because your death was traumatic and quick and in all the confusion it didnt make sense. And so it takes a medium to come along and counsel you through, break through the fog as it were, guides then take over and off you go, relatively easy. No harm done.

I have a fellow who is earthbound around me, and he knows full well that he is. He knows what he is, who he was, why he is etc etc. But he is stubborn and doesnt seem to want to move along, he's waiting in the wings all the time, keeping me company in his way, interjecting at inopportune moments, to steal the mood and sour an atmosphere if he feels the need. Which he does.

A lot.

He distracts my attention far too often and well, ive got quite used to him, i dont know how id feel if he left. Though i know he should. It'd be a strange severance, because he's walked alongside me for a while now, over a decade.

He tells my guides to 'f**k off'. He's a bit of an ungrateful moody urchin really. Reserving loving manipulative words, for me. Which foolishly i listen to.

He has his own goals.

Well, one really. That goal, is to appear in full frontal *ooooh!*. To manifest himself, to me, as clearly as he can. And in a way, we share that goal.

Now i 'see' clairvoyantly, i see, but its quite personal. Fortunately he has appearred to others who see differently, so i know im not 'mad'- at least in the true sense of the disinction- well, not that mad. Desperate, deluded or anything else. He is actually there. Its not a yearning.

I, for my part, love any opportunity to excercise my abilities, and so, stupidly i go along with it, because itd be good to see, well, to see him as clearly as possible. And thats across the board, so i can see all spirit clearly when its necessary.

For the other part, he kinda wreaks havoc and i feel a sense of should, in that he 'should go' etc and because ive been told so, by, a few people. I have done what i can, aside from retract my attention completely, because whenever i have, he focusses on someone else. Just to let me know, he's here.

I worry though, because of course, at the point where he manifests clearly, where do we go from there, what exactly does that achieve, is it some way then, that he might walk alongside me clearer, so i might never let him go and live the earthly life i have.... yes thats it exactly. And that is foolish, because my life is lovely, i have a wonderful loving partner who wants to have a family with me, move forward, move house and be successes together.

My spectre, resents him. 'Hates him'. For having all that he does not.

It is a situation which cannot grow, only my partner and i can. The phantom will always be that age, will always wear those clothes, will not change morph or grow in any way. Will remain as he is and i will be old, old, older. Stefan will grow alongside me, the spirit, will not. He will walk as the angry adolescent who feels his life was stolen from him.

Still, its good to have goals.

That November Feeling.

Posted by Tia Price on May 9, 2012 at 12:55 AM Comments comments (0)

So, for the last year and a half i have had the most peculior sensation. Since moving to where we now live.

And this sensation came with a few titbits of information and visions, no bigge, nothing too unusual.

I could not, for the life of me work out, was this spirit, was this 'energy', what was this?

It started a night where i did a reading for a friend in need- which caused a bit of a split. My prediction has yet to come true, but true it will come- and at that reading i sensed 'November. Now, to sense November, i mean the 'feel' of Autumn, deep autumn, mulchy leaves and darkness. The colours brown and the smell of wet earth.

And with this 'feeling' came, the date/ month, November. And Lewes. The town Lewes.

This did not give me much to go on, but the feeling left me feeling uncomfortable in a way i couldnt describe.

My development as a psychic and as a person has shot up in recent months, and i can look back to a year ago and see where edges of my old self fell away, and more of my true self began to emerge. I look back further and i cant believe i was quite like that, and not as a judgement or to look back in any negative way. Just, i am different in so many ways.

Unwilling to sacrifice myself for anyone else, unwilling to ignore my inner guidance, and unwilling to doubt myself, paying attention to every detail in a way i did not before. Not quite like this anyway. The volume shot up and the lights got brighter. Smells stronger. Everything is different and yet the same, i tread the line between and its wonderful.

Anyhow. I saw knives a few times and started to feel a little drawn to 'dark' things again, like serial killers and stories on murder, the type you find in magazines that are so damn trashy and so very drawing.

I found myself midway through a story wondering 'hang on', why am i drawn to this, yes theres balance but i want the light, i want good fairies and giggley bubbley laughter, not to draw darkness about me because, like attracts like.

I got visions, over and over of Preston Park train station, and then brighton. No reason why. Just visions. And of being on a train looking out. Clearly Preston Park.

And Lewes, over and over, and November.

I tried to ignore it, or ask my guides for more guidance on this because no matter how much dragons blood i burnt, still this sensation would return, eventually. Then once, whilst smudging, i heard a man shout ' i deserved to die!'. Hmmmmm.....

Then, my boyfriend kept pretending he had a gun, as a joke, but there seemed a note off about it.

Then i was drawn to paint a man hanged, a bit grim you say, and not my usual style. I put it down to too many outside influences of people who do like this srota stuff, i used to so no judgement, but its not my style. Clearly however i was being shown something.

Then i heard someone say ' i cant see, i cant see'. Thought i 'heard' Lefoy/ Le fleur/ Lefois. And the name 'Percy'. And someone kept saying 'help me, please help me'. Kept seeing a man with a moustache and then when i came to do some psychometry work at the 14th century Gaol i work at i 'saw' a gentleman with a stovepipe hat.

Now, considering i hear and sense quite a bit, it can be hard to filter out, so sometimes its just better to try and block the whole lot, though that isnt easy and i dont like doing that, i like tripping between the worlds and enjoying the sights sounds and smells of each, at the same time.Plus how many Victorian images are we likely to see? Balance.

This was all at separate intervals though and i could not necessarily connect it all.

I did however paint a man with a stove pipe hat, again not my style. And i kept 'seeing' a man in a grey suit.

Finally, as this sensation of November came across me once more along with a searing pain in my shoulders like being burnt from inside, so tense, whilst doing a reading i thought, im going to google 'Lewes Prison the last man hanged'.

What i found was this:

Hanging a murderer, 1881

For a few short weeks in 1881, the case of Percy Lefroy was a newspaper sensation.

Lefroy had set out one morning in June 1881 to rob any poor unfortunate who crossed his path. Failing to find a victim at London Bridge station, he ended up on the 2pm train to Brighton, where he came across a wealthy merchant named Gold.

Lefroy (real name Mapleton) shot and stabbed Gold to death and made off with his watch and a few gold coins. Spotted getting off the train at Preston Park , he claimed to have been the victim of a robbery himself. He was taken then to Brighton station.

Despite obvious signs of his involvement, Lefroy was allowed to escape, and remained at large for 10 days. Recaptured, he was tried at Maidstone assizes and found guilty of murder. He was hanged by William Marwood (pictured) at Lewes jail.

This account of Lefroy's execution appeared in the Daily Telegraph, 30 November 1881 .

It also transpires that this gentleman was hanged wearing a grey woolen suit, with a burlap sack over his eyes.

He was hanged in November at Lewes prison.

This photo is the gentleman i saw whilst 'reading' a painting.

Finally this man can go to the light...and i can get some peace (until the next straggler)


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