Ghosts, Witches and Vampires

I suppose anywhere that was as frequently invaded as the North East of Britain would want to defend their homes, families and possessions. Here in Northumberland – as Hadrian’s wall proved ineffective against the attempts of William Wallace and his supporters – that means castles.

When I was younger I had a Lego castle that came with a glow-in-the-dark ghost mini-figure that lived in a prison cell. So if plastic castles have plastic ghosts, do real castles have real ghosts?

In answer to this, and not being able to investigate every castle in a 20 mile radius I will look at the castles that I managed to visit and some of the paranormal stories that are attached to them.

On my way to my night at Chillingham Castle, my route took me past the visually stunning Warkworth Castle. Occupying a loop of the River Coquet the original timber castle of the mid 12th century was left undefended during the Scots invasion of 1173. Moving on to 1327 and after a cash injection by Edward II the now fortified castle had withstood two unsuccessful attempts against its walls. Within 20 years the castle would fall under the control of the Percy family and so it would remain until its custody would be granted to the Office of Works (now English Heritage) in 1922.

Warkworth Castle

Home to the spirit of a young man seen running along the walls and the obligatory phantom of a grey lady allegedly identified as Margaret Neville, Warkworth Castle is reported to have a paranormal effect on children and animals; as dogs seem to be wary of entering and children suddenly becoming quiet and calm (not a phenomenon that appeared to affect those around me).

The haunting of Warkworth is a tragic love story of knights, fair maidens, trials and kidnap. The protagonist of this tale is Sir Bertram de Bothal who remains today in spectral form, a little way down the river in a carved-out rock or cave, known as Warkworth Hermitage. Sir Bertram’s tale is set in the 14th Century, the powerful Percy family were in residence and Bertie was in love. The subject of this knight’s desire was the Lady Isobel Widdrington, who set a challenge to Bertram to prove his love by sending him into battle with an engraved helmet, promising him her hand in marriage when he had proved his love and bravery. Receiving news that Bertram was wounded and feeling guilty that her trial had placed him in danger, she left the safety of her home to find her true love – only to be captured and imprisoned. Sir Bertram so overcome with grief and anger vowed to find and return her and so undertakes a series of covert searches of the land. His emotions and fears turning him desperate he goes dark and undertakes a black ops style surveillance mission uncovering his fair lady’s location and witnessing her abseiling a tower assisted by a kilted man. Unbeknown to our hero, his brother (disguised as a highlander) is in the process of his own rescue mission which Bertram interrupts – and depending on the account, either; upsets the horse which Isobel is riding causing her to fall and hit her head, killing her; or as he is about to attack his brother he delivers a fatal blow to Isobel as she dives between them. After the dust has settled and his catastrophic mistake is discovered as well – as the corpses of his brother and his betrothed, Sir Bertram retreats to a nearby cave where he dies of a broken heart releasing his spirit to forlornly walk the hermitage and castle grounds for eternity.

Consulting the English Heritage guidebook, I pulled up next to a row of cottages and a medieval church to park in the car park/lay by of Edlingham Castle. A short walk through a couple of gates and fields I found myself at the Grade 1 listed ruin. Once the manor house of the de Feltons who took over the property in 1294 and heavily fortified it, as part of their home security plan, due to the threat of Scottish insurgence. Now the remains of this once impressive structure show the floor plan of the house that was within the shadow of the solar tower clinging to a remaining wall with metal braces to assist its fight with gravity.

Edlingham Castle

The original building was recycled in the 1660’s to construct a nearby farmhouse leaving only the solar tower and the bodies of the former residents residing in the consecrated grounds next to where I had parked, as testament to what once stood here.

Among the reports of clothing being pulled by unseen hands, phantom footsteps heard from non-existent floorboards, strange floating light, shadow people and wails, the most famous paranormal tale of Edlingham Castle derives from the apparent abilities of the living rather than an apparition.

John and Jacob Mills, giving their address as Edlingham Castle, were key witnesses in the trial of Margaret Stothard. Answering the 1683 charge of Maleficium under the Witchcraft Act 1562, Margaret found herself accused of causing harm by witchcraft.

The evidence provided by the Mills brothers witnessed Margaret approaching a couple begging. Ignored or rebuffed by the couple Margaret has waved a white thing at them three times and parted ways. The next day the couple’s daughter became unwell. The young child was crying that a woman was trying to break her back and push out her heart before taking her final breath.

John testified that one night whilst laying in bed he heard a strong gust of wind blast past his window and felt a heavy weight fall onto his chest directly above his heart. With a noise, like the sound of a cat’s cry, a light appeared at the end of his bed with the vision of Margaret Stothard at its centre. This entity appeared, apparently, several times with each appearance leaving him so terrified that the hairs of his head stood on end.

The Magistrate, Henry Ogle, on hearing these allegations; and that Margaret had also healed a child by magically sending what ailed them into a calf (who later died), decided them to be unfounded and threw out the case – however the residents of Edlingham Castle had sentenced Margaret to be forever known as the Witch of Edlingham.

Our next story is as old as the castle it comes from. Alnwick (pronounced Ann-Ick) Castle is the second largest inhabited castle in the UK having served as a military outpost, teaching college, a refuge for evacuees, a family home and most famously as part of the exterior of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, in its 950-year history.

Alnwick Castle Credit Mrs J

The tale of the Vampire of Alnwick was documented by the medieval chronicler William de Newburgh in Historia rerum Anglicarum, and like his contemporary (and rival) Geoffrey of Monmouth, William was not averse to exaggeration and putting his own macabre spin to keep his audience interested.

The legends purport that our ‘vampire’ was the Lord of Alnwick, subsequently demoted by de Newburgh – as he probably didn’t want to cause offence to the powerful de Vescy family who sat at Alnwick at the time – who fell from the castle roof, breaking his neck, investigating his wife’s extra-marital nocturnal activities.

Returning from the grave, the vampire, would be seen prowling the castle grounds to wreak chaos and mayhem; spreading pestilence, disease and death on the local peasants and their livestock. The reign of terror came to a head on Palm Sunday, following a series of nights where the villagers had barricaded themselves in their home, when a priest rallied a pitchfork and flaming torch wielding mob to seek out the lair of the haunting evil. On discovering the tomb, a putrefied body was unearthed and when struck by a spade gushed with blood – giving credence to the story that the re-animated corpse had been feasting on blood. After being dragged to the edge of the village the body was burned and as the smoke rose into the sky the curse of Alnwick was lifted – The Vampire had been slain.

Falls from height, appear to be a common cause of death at Alnwick Castle, which has – as all good historical places – its own Grey Lady to encounter. Alnwick’s Grey Lady is said to be a teenaged maid who succumbed to her untimely death through the application of gravity as she fell through a service chute. The fall may have been survivable but unfortunately for our young casualty a further force was applied to her broken body – as a dumb waiter crushed her. The spirit of this unfortunate maid continues to roam the corridors and passages beneath the castle with reports of sighting of a full-bodied apparition and the feeling of sadness caused to those who encounter her.

Our last castle, purported to be the site of Joyous Guarde and home to Lancelot du Lac – is Bamburgh Castle. Standing guard above the beautiful Northumberland coastline for over 1,400 years it has been a key defensive location since the Norman conquest, housing Kings and nobility within its rooms and dungeons.

Bamburgh Castle Credit Mrs J

The most famous phantom resident of the castle is the Pink Lady and had nothing to do with the species of apple. Bamburgh’s Pink Lady is said to be a centuries old princess whose choice of suitor was not to her father’s taste. The young man, who had been so captivated by her beauty was sent away, overseas for seven years, by the king, in an effort to quell the raising passions between them. The princess descended into melancholy, with her depression growing every day she was parted, until her father informed her that his spies had discovered he had married another. Throwing money at the problem, the king commissioned a luxurious pink dress to be created for his daughter to cheer her up. This plan failed, as on the final fitting, the princess climbed to the highest battlement and threw herself off into the abyss, landing on the rocks below.

As a tragic twist, the young suitor returned – and although his fate is not known, the Pink Lady returns every seven years, dressed in her death shroud, to wander the castle before heading to the beach to stare forlornly out to see in the hope of one last glimpse of the love of her life.

Aside from sightings of knights in full armour, soldiers from WW2, phantom shadows and the spectre of Dr John Sharp, who having led the restoration of the castle in the 18th century, refused to leave; Bamburgh Castle is also home to Green Jane. Named after the emerald-coloured cloak she is seen wearing, Jane is said to have fallen to her death with the jeers of the castle guard ringing in her ears as she desperately pleaded for food with her baby in her arms. Visitors to the castle have reported sightings of Jane carrying a bundle in her arms who cries out on stumbling down the narrow steps close to the clock tower. Jane is never found but the haunting sounds of a baby crying are heard throughout the castle.

Although not witnessing any of these ghosts myself, my journey home was punctuated by two interesting occurrences –

The first was that after driving through South Shields, home of the South Shields Poltergeist and the theories of contagion documented by Darren Ritson (which we will explore more of in future blogs). I received a call from Phil. Now I did not recognise the number and could not find a placed call on checking my call log, but Phil had received a missed call from my mobile about the time I was driving through South Shields and on calling me back was as mystified as to who I was, as I was about him.

30 East Drive, Pontefract

The second came as I saw the exit to Pontefract, and quickly tapping in East Drive into the Sat Nav, it was not long before my detour found me stood outside number 30 – home of the Black Monk of Pontefract. As I lined up the shot to take a quick photo for posterity, I believe I saw I darkened shape move the curtain in the upstairs window. There is of course a number of rational causes for this, the neighbour/caretaker conducting her duties, paranormal investigators moving in, my own want to see something at this alluring location. Either way the address of 30 East Drive, Pontefract is definitely on my to do list.