Page 21 - Moons Moat
P. 21

Moons Moat                                                                           Redditch Heritage



       Chapter 6 - Murder at Moon's Moat


       Moons Moat is the name given to an area of Beoley now part of nearby Church Hill
       housing estate. The name refers to the site of a moated medieval homestead which
       was excavated when Redditch New Town was being built revealing the foundations of
       a house, bridge and moat walls. There is a legend that Lady Mohun haunts the site once
       a year and this may be the background to that rumour.


       The story of Moons Moat is not one, not two, but three murders. The site belonged to
       the Moon family, spelt Mohun. In 1692 Lord Mohun was living in London but despite his
       title, he was an evil, dissolute teenager. He was friendly with a certain Captain Hill and
                                                           they both fell madly in love with a beautiful
                                                           young actress, Ann Bracegirdle. But she had
                                                           a boyfriend and wasn't interested in them,
                                                           so  one  dark  night  they  grabbed  the
                                                           boyfriend, and Lord Mohun held him while
                                                           Captain Hall stabbed him to death.


                                                           Captain Hall was now a wanted man so he
                                                           went  on  the  run  to  this  remote  property
                                                           which belonged to a distant relative of Lord
                                                           Mohun. It was occupied at the time by Joan
                                                           Moon,  a  widow,  her  three  sons  and  their
                                                           half-sister Mariolle. In 1693 in the dead of
                                                           night, a Beoley constable walking past heard
                                                           two  bloodcurdling  screams  coming  from  a
                                                           woman  inside  the  property.  He  rushed  to
                                                           the moat just in time to see a great weight,
                                                           something like a body, flung from an upper
                                                           window  into  the  moat.  He  couldn't  do
                                                           anything about it then but returned with two
                                                           colleagues the next morning. No body was
                                                           found,  only  a  woman's  cloak,  but  Mariolle
                                                           was never seen again.


                                                           On the run again, Hill fled just across the
                                                           Worcestershire  border  and  stayed  at  a
       well-known coaching inn, the Angel in Alcester. Being well spoken and having plenty of
       money, Captain Hi11 was invited into the homes and to the parties of the local gentry.
       Al1 went well until he became too abusive one night and pulled out his sword. He was
       escorted back to the Angel and disappeared. The licensee said that he had gone back
       to London. However in 1837 the Angel closed to become a private house and when the
       kitchen was renovated, tucked into a brick oven was a travelling box containing a cloak,
       a hat, a fancy waistcoat, various odds and ends and two letters, both addressed to
       Captain Hill. So it looks as if he heated the inn for a few days!



                                                                    Story courtesy of Anne Bradford






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