to her dying request, but failed to do
so, and her body was laid entire under the pavement of the church.
Within a few days Burton Agnes Hall was disturbed by the most
alarming noises, and no servant could be induced to remain in the
house. In this dilemma, the two sisters remembered that they had not
carried out Anne's last wish, and, at the suggestion of the clergyman,
the coffin was opened, when a strange sight was seen. The "body lay
without any marks of corruption or decay; but the head was disengaged
from the trunk, and appeared to be rapidly assuming the semblance of a
fleshless skull." This was reported to the two sisters, and on the
vicar's advice the skull of Anne was taken to Burton Agnes Hall,
where, so long as it remained undisturbed, no ghostly noises were
heard. It may be added that numerous attempts have from time to time
been made to rid the hall of this skull, but without success.

Many other similar skulls are still existing in various places, and,
in addition to their antiquarian interest, have attracted the
sightseer, connected as they mostly are with tales of legendary
romance. An amusing anecdote of a skull is told by the late Mr. Wirt
Sikes.[11] It seems that on a certain day some men were drinking at an
inn when one of them, to show his courage and want of superstition,
affirmed that he was "afraid of no ghosts," and dared to go to the
church and fetch a skull. This he did, and after an hour or so of
merrymaking over the skull, he carried it back to where he had found
it; but, as he was leaving the church, "suddenly a tremendous blast
like a whirlwind seized him, and so mauled him that he ever after
maintained that nothing should induce him to do such a thing again."
The man was still more convinced that the ghost of the original owner
of the skull had been after him, when his wife informed him that the
cane which hung in his room had been beating against the wall in a
dreadful manner.

Byron had his skull romance at Newstead, but in this case the skull
was more orderly, and not given to those unpleasant pranks of which
other skulls have seemingly been guilty. Whilst living at Newstead, a
skull was one day found of large dimensions and peculiar whiteness.
Concluding that it belonged to some friar who had been domesticated at
Newstead--prior to the confiscation of the monasteries by Henry
VIII.--Byron determined to convert it into a drinking vessel, and for
this purpose dispatched it to London,