The Archive
Haunted Locations
Dusty parish records, crumbling ruins, and restless spirits — every entry in our archive has been unearthed from the darkest corners of East Anglia.
The Archive
Dusty parish records, crumbling ruins, and restless spirits — every entry in our archive has been unearthed from the darkest corners of East Anglia.

Ghostly lights that drift across the darkest reaches of the Norfolk Broads, luring the unwary into black water. The old marsh folk knew them by name — and knew never to follow.
Ask anyone who's grown up on the Norfolk Broads about the Lantern Men, and watch what happens to their face. There's a flicker — half amusement, half something else entirely. "Oh aye," they'll say, "the Lantern Men." And then they'll tell you not to go out on Hickling Broad after dark.
The Lantern Men — sometimes called Jack o' Lanterns, will-o'-the-wisps, or ignis fatuus if you've had a classical education — are pale, dancing lights that appear over the marshes and waterways of the Broads on still, dark nights. They hover a few feet above the water, drifting with an almost purposeful motion, and they have a singular, terrible habit: they lead people off the path.
Not metaphorically. They lead them into the water.
Hickling Broad is the largest of the Norfolk Broads, a shallow lake fringed by vast reed beds and accessible only by narrow, winding waterways. It was formed in the medieval period when flooded peat diggings filled with water, creating the labyrinth of broads, rivers, and marshes that defines this landscape today.
The first recorded mention of the Lantern Men in this area dates to 1698, when the parish records of Hickling note that a man named Thomas Wymer was "drawn from the staitheway by devilish lights and found drowned in the mere come morning." The coroner's verdict was misadventure. The villagers knew better.
Throughout the 18th and 19th centuries, the Lantern Men were a fixture of Broadland life. Wherrymen — the bargemen who carried cargo along the waterways — would speak of them as casually as they spoke of the weather. The lights were simply there, as much a part of the landscape as the bitterns and the reed. But you didn't follow them. Every child on the Broads learned that rule before they could swim.
The most detailed Victorian account comes from the Reverend Edward Gillett, who served as rector of Hickling from 1871 to 1903. In his personal journals, now held by the Norfolk Record Office, he describes seeing the lights on at least fourteen separate occasions:
"Three lights appeared above the water at approximately eleven o'clock. They moved with a slow, deliberate motion from the eastern reed bed toward the centre of the broad. The night was perfectly still and the lights cast no reflection upon the water, which struck me as most unnatural. They remained visible for perhaps twenty minutes before extinguishing simultaneously, as if snuffed."
The standard scientific explanation for will-o'-the-wisps is marsh gas — methane and phosphine produced by decaying organic matter in wetlands. When phosphine meets air, it can spontaneously ignite, producing a brief, pale flame. Case closed, say the textbooks.
Except the Lantern Men don't behave like marsh gas.
Marsh gas ignitions are brief, random flickers. The Lantern Men move with direction and purpose, sometimes for hours. They follow people. Multiple witnesses on the same night describe the same lights moving in the same patterns. They appear in winter when organic decomposition is at its lowest. And they have been observed over open water, where there is no decaying vegetation to produce gas.
Dr. Helen Sutcliffe, a geophysicist at the University of East Anglia, conducted a study of anomalous light phenomena on the Broads in 2009. Her findings were inconclusive. "We recorded several instances of luminous phenomena that did not correspond to any known atmospheric or chemical process," she wrote. "The lights demonstrated apparent intentional movement and responsiveness to observer proximity. I am unable to offer a satisfactory explanation."
The Lantern Men have not retired. Hickling Broad National Nature Reserve, managed by the Norfolk Wildlife Trust, covers over 600 hectares of open water, reed bed, and marshland. It is also one of the darkest places in lowland England — light pollution is virtually zero.
People still see the lights.
In 2017, a group of birdwatchers staying at the NWT reserve recorded video on a phone camera of three pale lights moving in formation over the water at approximately 1:30am. The video, grainy and shaking, shows the lights drifting slowly west before disappearing. No source could be identified. The birdwatchers, experienced field naturalists, described the experience as "deeply unsettling."
A kayaker in 2021 reported a single light that appeared to follow his boat for nearly a mile along a narrow cut between reed beds. "It was about thirty metres behind me and maybe two feet above the water," he told the Eastern Daily Press. "Every time I stopped paddling, it stopped. When I started again, it started again. I've never paddled so fast in my life."
Hickling Broad is accessible from the village of Hickling, about fifteen miles north-east of Norwich. The Norfolk Wildlife Trust manages the reserve and offers boat trips, walking trails, and a visitor centre. The best time to see the broad in its full, atmospheric glory is autumn or winter — when the mist sits heavy on the water and the reed beds turn gold.
If you want to look for the Lantern Men, you'll need to be there after dark. The reserve closes at dusk, but the public footpath along the Weaver's Way long-distance trail runs close to the broad and is accessible at all hours. Bring a torch. Bring warm clothing. And if you see a light over the water — a pale, drifting glow that seems to beckon you closer — remember the oldest rule of the Broads.
Don't follow it.