Tucked away in a quiet pocket of the Hampshire countryside there is a wooded combe with a giggle-inducing name but a bloodstained history.
Tucked neatly away in the Preshaw Estate in the South Downs National Park, Betty Mundys Bottom lies between Upham and Corhampton.
To the unaccustomed rambler walking the chalk trails and ancient, gnarled yew trees, it might seem nothing more than a typical piece of rural South Coast scenery.
But, lurking behind the absurd name, written into local Ordnance Survey maps, lies an infinitely darker and more interesting history that has occupied local historians and storytellers for centuries.
The most infamous local legend transports us back over two hundred years to a time when this isolated hollow was a perilous place to linger after nightfall.
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A solitary cottage supposedly stood deep within the woods along a track known as Sailors Lane.
This route was heavily traversed by discharged seafarers making the long, exhausting trek inland from the busy ports of Southampton and Portsmouth.
Pockets jingling with freshly paid wages, these weary men were desperate for a warm hearth and a moment of respite.
According to the macabre tale, a seemingly hospitable woman named Betty Mundy would lure these unsuspecting travellers inside with the promise of food and shelter.
Once they were asleep, she would brutally murder them, strip them of their hard-earned coin, and casually dispose of their lifeless bodies down the depthsof her garden well.
Elsewhere, local lore has less consistent but just as troublesome versions of the Betty Mundy myth.
According to some local retellings of the tale circulated between the rural Hampshire pubs, she was no maniacal innkeeper but an evil witch, or vengeful wood fairy, who prowled the neighbouring copses and cast evil spells, and played malicious tricks on those who strayed into her shady domain.
For those who like their history without added murder or magic, an altogether different linguistic theory accompanies the name right back to the Roman occupation.
Sometime around 70AD, it is said, a fleet of marching Roman soldiers made camp in this very depression.
Overpowered by the immaculate natural surroundings, they are said to have named the spot “Beati Mundae”, a blunt but evocative near-Latin phrase meaning, roughly, most beautiful place in the world.
Generations of usage later, the theory goes, the dense local dialect had corrupted the poetic Roman name to the far more prosaic Betty Mundy.
A person visiting the valley today in search of a haunted well or a witch's hovel would be confronted by a very different reality.
The secluded hollow has left its sinister past far behind in favour of exclusive modern luxury. What was a haunted hollow is now the manicured grounds of a huge private, luxury home with a swimming pool and tennis courts.
However, the chilling legend of Betty Mundy is here to stay - the mysterious myth remains firmly etched in our local narrative.
