Encounter(s) At The Fort

Sat in the middle of a housing estate and opposite a large retail park sits Fort Horsted in Chatham, Kent. The construction of the fort completed in 1889 after it took 9 years for a convict labour force from nearby Borstal Prison to build it. It was the largest of 5 forts designed to provide defence to the Dockyard from the possibility of invasion by the Napoleonic Army. Described as Palmerston’s follies due to divided opinion on the usefulness of land forts, a peacetime operation in 1907 demonstrated that the ring of forts, although not impregnable, were effective in delaying any attack of the dockyard.

Fort Horsted

Fort Horsted remained owned by the British Military and used as a small garrison barracks, until 1963 where it changed hands at regular intervals with Kent County Council, Ford UK, the Biber Group and Rochester Motor Company all being owners or tenants over time. The forts decline occurred in 1976 when a large fire broke out, burning for weeks and requiring 50 firefighters working full time at its peak.

In the 1990’s English Heritage and the Environment Agency issued the owners with an enforcement notice with a million pound liability to clear the site of the vegetation, abandoned vehicle and tyres. The site was put up for auction in response, being purchased by Avondale Environmental Services in 1997. Avondale worked with English Heritage to clear and restore the site enabling them to occupy in 2001. Now – aside from the frequent ghost hunt – it has been transformed into a business centre hosting local businesses including a recording studio.

Arriving at the fort I was met with the stark white stone lit by external floodlights. The windows, black in contrast as we congregated on the Heras fence lined drawbridge. Greeted like an old friend by Keith and his team we were led inside the fort and into our basecamp for the evening. It was explained that it would be an intimate evening as there were only 4 guests, 2 members of fort staff and the Ghostly Encounters UK Team including 3 trainees.

Signing the consent waivers and receiving an equipment input from Ed we congregated in the entrance tunnel grouped in a circle, holding hands, as Keith lit the candle and invoked a protection ritual to keep the group safe during our investigation. A strange noise could be heard throughout – which was eventually debunked as the rotating head of a ceiling mounted CCTV camera observing all that was going on around us.

Grabbing our equipment, we set off, our night vision destroyed due to the activation of a PIR activated spotlight, and we found ourselves blinking as were plunged back into the open air and darkness of a car park as we accessed the far-right area of the fort.

Finding ourselves in a series of rooms we broke off to the left, as Rem-Pods and cat balls were distributed. Calling out, the room felt crowded with the living and so the other half of the group spread out into the adjoining room. Hearing a surge of excitement within minutes it transpired that something had caused a cat ball to illuminate – which was the only activity that we could report in these rooms.

Returning back to the entrance corridor, and again being blinded by the automatic light, we charged on the central portion of the fort. Stopping at the end we considered how we felt. Looking at the arches in the wall opposite it appeared that a figure in the shadows was playing peek-a-boo, popping up on one side before disappearing and re-appearing in the adjacent arch. I called it out and this phenomenon was agreed by several others in the group with others feeling that they were being watched and observed from the top of the high wall.

The Tunnel

Advancing, and taking care on the unstable ground, we filed through the wide entrance way. As I walked past the arch where I believed I had seen the peek-a-boo ghost I heard a low growl, a woman walking next to me asked me if I said anything to which I told her that I had heard a low growl-like sound – a second witness had been found. The feeling of being observed continued and this may have been due to the amount of old furniture and equipment casting dark shadows as we processed through this area coupled with a healthy dose of paranoia.

As we stood in the space behind the arches, we called out for anything that wanted to communicate to knock or whistle. A metallic thud was heard but was more likely the other half of the team than anything supernatural.

The next stop was the first floor.

Alighting the right hand staircase I found myself on a narrow gantry with sentry holes every 6 foot or so. The experiment here was take a hole and then we went lights out. As I stood with the cool night air blowing through the gun port behind me I felt very unsettled. A light feeling of nausea ran through me as I felt I was being inspected. My body was drawn up to attention as in this position I did not feel like I wanted to be sick. This feeling may have been due to the environment I was stood in and this is how I should behave in this space – or it was due to something else. The feeling was shared amongst my fellow investigators, and we called a halt to this investigation.

Given the option of a spirit board in the room to the right of the gantry; or a vigil in the rooms to the left – I, and the other guests opted for the room on the right. Opening the board we found communication with an active, prankster – who stated he was previously stationed in the fort giving a jumble of letters as his name. Moving and twisting the planchette to make those whose fingers were attached have to walk around the board appeared to be his favourite game. Then a question from the woman next to me “This might sound like a strange question, but erm, are you human?” The planchette slid to indicate ‘No’. Our team leaders intervened on this line of questioning saying that it was not a question that we ask, and even in the red light of our torches I saw the interrogator’s cheeks flush. Asking this Puck-like spirit to step away to let anyone else who wanted to communicate with us saw us again dance around the board – so we moved to ‘Goodbye’ and thus ended our session with the spirit board.

Keith offered me the opportunity for a solo vigil in one of the side rooms adjacent to the gantry. Taking him up on the offer I entered the enclosed space and went lights out. Although alone – it did not feel like it. The intensified feeling of being observed grew stronger as the minutes ticked by, the echoes of the other investigators talking and calling out in the adjacent room grew quieter as I focused on how I was feeling. With time being called on this experience we returned to our positions by the gun ports on the gantry.

The time was about 22:30 as I took my post. The call for “Lights out” was made. I stood in the darkness – just feeling. Slowly the feeling of nausea returned, and began to build causing me to take a very loud intake and exhale of breath. “Was that you?” came the question from another member undertaking a solo vigil in the room where I had been previously. Slightly embarrassed as to how loud I must have been I admitted to the noise. The feeling was growing, causing me to bend over and place my hands on my knees as I attempted – much more quietly – to suck in enough air to quell it. A voice in the darkness asked if I was ok and if it was too much to ask whatever was causing it to step back.

As if being discovered the feeling abated, allowing me to stand up to my full height. I felt a cold encircling grip on my right wrist that caused a chill to cascade down my spine. An invisible hand – for want of a better term – had hold of me and I felt it pull, downwards at first, almost to pull me off balance. I heard a fellow guest at the other end of the gantry state that she felt compelled to approach the railing and go over the approximate 16 foot drop. She was advised strongly against it with lots of offers of help echoing into the pitch black.

My wrist felt like it was burning with the cold; and now it was being pulled towards the railing that separated me from a plunge into an abyss. Not wanting to fight something that I could only feel I shouted “Enough!” that continued to echo around the high-ceilinged room until the silence became a crushing force. In a somewhat quieter voice I called out that something had tried to pull me towards the railing, that my wrist felt sore but at least I didn’t feel like I was going to throw up anymore.

The experience felt very unnerving. I had no control of my wrist. What would have happened if my shout had not caused whatever had hold of me to release their grip? Finding my way back outside the cool night air helped to settle my thoughts. A cup of coffee and a large chunk of homemade pineapple cake later, the break was over. I was ready to go back into battle and find out more of the secrets of the fort.

The Gantry - I was stood in the closest alcove

Another march through the main tunnel back to where I had seen the peek-a-boo apparitions found us turning left and into a large enclosed room. A deployment of Rem-pods and cat balls later, we were calling out. A strange scraping sound was heard coming from the wall to my right, a sound that was heard by the majority present. A search of the wall found curls of white paint clinging to the

brickwork surface. A light brush of a curl replicated the sound that we heard. Theories of spiders, bugs, wind could not be debunked and so it was an incident of note – but nothing conclusive.

Then started the sudden departures several female members of the team. Stating that they did not like the feeling in the space. My calling out became more challenging – “are you picking on the females in the group because you think they are weaker?” was met with several ‘Oi’s’ as I hoped they had misheard my call rather than thought I was taking a cheap pop at the better sex. Telling whatever it was that was making my teammates uncomfortable I called out that they could have a go at me – it didn’t.

Staying in this room we set up a mirror and candle on a table. Our leaders asking if anyone was willing to sit for a scrying session, I took the seat. As I stared into my own reflection (which I think is the worst part of this divination process) The candle to my right flickered, rapidly causing a strobe like effect. The flame was bent completely to the left – there was no discernible breeze. The erratic nature of the flame caused a lot of conversation – until there was noticeable activity within the glass inform of me.

A group of investigators were stood far enough behind me to my right that I could not see them reflected. The started to comment on the facial changes they noticed, my forehead getting bigger; sideburns; full beard; dark beady eyes – even I had to make a wry comment about my piss-holes in the snow which elicited a polite laugh. I noticed that with every flicker of the flame the image I was staring at would change – a male with a pointed chin and very dark eyes; a slightly well fed male with sideburns and what looked like a top hat, back to pointed chin, back to sideburns – and then darkness. In the corner of my eye I could see the candle flame reaching out to me completely horizontal and then just a pair of eyes floating in the blackness of my reflection. Blinking, my reflection returned to what would be considered normal and simultaneously with one my fellow investigators I asked who was over my left shoulder.

A head had appeared as if looking over my left shoulder, an enquiring look on its face. I called to the team and asked if anyone had peered over me to which they confirmed that they hadn’t moved from where they were stood. Thanking the spirits and getting up from the chair – the candle was extinguished. Re-accustoming myself with the gloom lit by our red torches I spoke with the witness to the face over my shoulder. We both saw it appear in the mirror at the same time, with the same curious expression. So we concluded that something was taking an interest in what we were doing.

The next room felt flat and discovering that none of the four guests wanted to take a break we pushed on.

Fort Horsted felt like maze. Rooms within room, Corridors to nowhere and the biggest spiders and moths I had seen for a while. We found ourselves at the entrance to a long corridor, only wide enough for people to walk along in single file. And that is what two of us did. A fellow guest and myself traversed the tunnel, I was told to stop just over halfway and my colleague continued to the end. The air was still, punctuated by the hushed voices of the rest of the team where we had left them. It suddenly felt like something was charging down the tunnel towards. An icy feeling caused me to take a sharp intake of breath as if it went straight through me. My colleague at the far end reported feeling the same sensation moments later.

We returned back to the waiting team whilst the two other guests descended into the dark of the tunnel. Returning very quickly once they reached the end.

Adjacent to this tunnel was a corridor that led to no where – with ‘windowholes’ that looked into a square room. Holing myself into the tight space (careful not to disturb anything crawling on the walls) we went dark. Standing still I listened to the rest of the team calling out a brick-width away from me. The sounds coming from the room began to sound like I was underwater, taking on a muffled quality. As I stood looking around in the pitch black I orientated myself so I was facing the corridor entrance. In the darkness there appeared a humanoid shape, misty white against the darkness of its surroundings. ‘What was it?’ I thought as it was obliterated with the arrival of a red light from torch. Was it just my mind playing tricks on me in the dark or was something wandering why a bloke was hiding in the walls? I will never know.

Re-joining the rest, they continued calling out but received no activity on any of the equipment. Although it was dark – I could not see my hand in front of my face - I believed I could see the details of the walls, each brick shone with a white light. Keith reported that it sounded like he had cotton wool in his ears and I likened this experience with it sounding like being underwater where I was stood before.

The night almost at an end we returned to the rooms we started in. This time I took position in the space where the cat ball had previously illuminated. A mag light torch had been set up in the other room which, when unobserved, turned itself on.

As the clock ticked over to 01:00 it was time for the evening to come to a close. With the protection candle blown out I said my goodbyes and made my way home. Mrs J was awoken as a lid into bed next to her and sked me how my night had been. I recounted all that I had the energy and brainpower to recall and was stopped in my tracks when I told her about the feeling of my wrist being pulled. Mrs J asked me what time that happened – I said about 22:30. Mrs J had been woken up with bad dream – a dream that I was being dragged away from her.

The time she saw on the clock – 22:30.