Clerical intercessions into the haunting of various of Horsingdon’s churchyards have often - in an almost M. R. Jamesian sense - resulted in an unpleasant reversal of fortunes for the clergy involved.
Far from the spectral intrusions being exorcised or forcibly removed via other forms of spiritual or praeternatural coercion, in the majority of these cases, the tables have been turned on the intervening rectors: invariably, their puritanical and morally-upstanding (but oddly prurient) exteriors have been revealed (usually to the local press) as facades masking uncomfortable, scandalous or otherwise embarrassing facts regarding intimate aspects of their personal lives.
The inevitable outcome being that these sour, repressed individuals end up fleeing the borough under a cloud of shame - leaving the troublesome spectres to continue with their vexations. Which - as any folklorist worth their salt would agree - is exactly as it should be.
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