By Ada B. Smedley This old coaching inn stands by the side of what used to be the main road from Sheffield to Derby, near Alfreton South Wingerfield crossroads. This road was also the Roman Ryknfield Street. The whitewashed hostelry was of great importance in the days of coaches. Horses were changed here before the next stop at Belper or Chesterfield and the raised platform for the passengers can still be seen. Down in the cellars is to be found a substantial and ancient underground passage which is said communicated with Wingerfield Manor nearby, the famous of Mary Queen Of Scots. There is also a crypt under the stables connected to the house by an underground passage. The interior of the house is also interesting, in the bar parlour the ancient fittings of the post office still remain. This was the post office for the for the district and letters for Alfreton were addressed to ?Alfreton near the Peacock?. One of the eighteenth century landlords of the Peacock was Peter Kendall, a much respected man and churchwarden. He had a beautiful and talented daughter called Ann who, it is said, wore such wide hoop dresses that she had to enter church sideways. The local church which figures quite largely in the following tale is called South Wingfield, although it is on the Oakerthorpe side of River Amber. Ann was courted by a young local farmer, who seems to have remained anonymous in the records. Unfortunatley a daughter was born before the wedding could take place and the heartless lover deserted the mother. This disgrace weighed upon poor Miss Kendall?s mind that she died of a broken heart on 14 May 1745. Just before she died she asked for Psalm 109 to be read to her, and ever since then it has been known as ?Miss Kendall?s Psalm? in this district.-?For the mouth of the wicked and the mouth of the deceitful are opened against me : they have spoken against me with a lying tongue. For my love they are my adversaries: but i give myself unto prayer?. It was an old custom in several Derbyshire churches to carry a special garland at the funeral procession of a young man or maiden. The garlands were made of wooden hoops decorated rosettes, ornaments of white paper and ribbons, and sometimes a pair of white gloves, too. They were hung up in the church afterwards, many lingering for centuries. Such a one carried at Ann Kendall?s funeral was still hanging in South Wingfield when the famous dr Cox called I the 1870?s in spite of previous offers to purchase the curio. This is not however the end of the story, nor the reason why it has lived on in the memories of the local inhabitants. Shortly afterwards the man who had betrayed the maid was riding past South Wingfield church. Suddenly the bells crashed out, the horses reared and the rider was thrown to the ground, breaking his neck! (Of course people said the judgement of God had fallen upon him). There was another funeral but we are not told if there was a garland this time! Neither are we told if the ringers were in the church at the time, nor whether the bells were rung by supernatural hands. To return to the Peacock, it is interesting to note that the old manor house was built nearby, and here was Linbury chapel, the remains of which are now built into a cottage. John De Heriz obtained special leave from the ecclesiastical authorities for himself and his heirs to have devine service performed in this chapel. When Ralf Lord Cromwell built the fine new manor house across the valley it no doubt fell into decay. The old inn, however, is still used and stands firm. It is of course claimed that Dick Turpin called here on his famous ride from London to York. People also maintain that he stopped at The Bell at Old Higham, a mile further on. If his stops were so frequent, it?s a wonder that he ever reached the end of his journey.