I was sat, waiting for Keith and the Ghostly Encounters crew to get the night started, next to a long and well stocked bar, the lights twinkling off the spirit bottles in their optics accompanied by the low rumble of the refrigerators chilling beers creating a background hum. I’m not sure this is what John Brown envisioned when he built Tower House Retreat way back in 1884 with the intention of the rehabilitation of addicts licensed under the Habitual Drunkards Act of 1879.
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| Credit: SJP |
The Grade II listed building that surrounded me has been known by many names and had many uses in its life. In 1903 Tower House became Convent de les Oiseaux, a convent and school for young ladies, and under the watchful eyes of the Cannoness the building was significantly expanded in 1912. WW1 saw the convent become a military hospital and WW2 caused the birds to fly the nest, as Westgate-on-Sea became a restricted area with the majority of the larger buildings being acquisitioned by the military. With peace declared the Sisters returned until 1971 when the boys of the Abbey School moved in, giving the building the name it has today – St Augustine’s. The last boarders finished their lessons in 1995 and the building was carved up, with bits used as apartments (with price tags of half a million), office space and of importance to tonight an events venue catering for every important celebration including bereavements.
As always, the history was unknown to me and so with the
briefing over and surrounded by protection I set off with my group to find out
the stories from those who remain.
We were held at the door to our first area, like Crystal
Maze contestants, whilst someone went to get a member of St Augustine’s staff
to turn the lights off. There are several theories why investigators hunt
ghosts in darkened environs, the sceptical opinion derives from the practice of
charlatan ‘mediums’ who would use the lack of light to cover their fraudulent
practices, however I like to subscribe to the thought that if you reduce one
sense it heightens others. The loss of sight, by this maxim, would suggest that
your sense of hearing, touch or even smell would be heightened and allow you to
concentrate on how the space made you feel. Because why would you need to fake
events to have a good time?
The lights now out we made our way to the first room, and
after plugging in the Chattergeist Touch I grabbed a cat ball from the
equipment basket setting it on a dresser in the left corner of the room. Almost
as soon as we started calling out that cat ball illuminated, its light
flickering around the room enhanced by the mirror it was sat in front of. This
room had a lot of reflective surfaces and soon there were reports of other
lights observed flickering. These could have been from the dim glow of the fire
exit signs or from phones or watches flashing, the illumination bouncing from
mirror to reflective surface causing significant delay in identifying the
source.
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| Credit: SJP |
In the heavy silence of the room a distinct sound of a clock was heard, a mechanical tick-tick like a second hand would make. It was not a constant sound and there was not an obvious timepiece or source within the room. When asked if the sound could be repeated it was for a second and final time.
As the group was getting used to the room, the darkness was
(if my theory is correct) increasing the sensitivity of feeling. Reports of
feeling colder and like being on a ship were reported by those stood to the far
right of the room. To test this we changed positions, with the same feeling
being reported by everyone who stood there. The temperature change wasn’t
measured, and this was the closest part of the room to the large windows so
could be a logical explanation however the feeling of rocking and unsteadiness
shared by everyone is interesting - even
if it is as proof of priming.
I was the last out of the room, as I wanted to try and take
a couple of photographs, and on entering the corridor was met by two of my
fellow guests singing at a cat ball positioned on a step. The ball was happily
flashing away all the time the sweet sound echoed along the stone lined tunnel.
When the music stopped so did the lights, and when asked if the spirits enjoyed
the song the ball flashed again in I think a positive response.
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| Credit: SJP |
Moving off again, we found ourselves in another long corridor, lined with wooden glass fronted display cases. A definite feeling of being watched and observed was noted, as if someone was hiding in the shadows above where we stood. Interestingly the cabinets had fairy lights that were pulsating in the struggling way string lights do when the battery is running low. Even more interestingly was that they were mains powered lights, they were isolated from the mains power and yet were continuing to light up.
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| Credit: SJP |
At the end of this corridor was a kitchen, the light from the red torches bounced off the brushed steel and aluminium surfaces that all commercial cooking areas seem to consist of. I felt drawn to a cupboard at the far end of the kitchen and set a cat ball on a shelf behind me and my K2 on the floor before sitting down in the conveniently placed chair.
The sudden, loud burst of laughter from outside the cupboard
door made me jump, as I later found out the green light from the K2 had cast a
phallic shadow on the ceiling and my group had very dirty minds.
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| Credit: SJP |
Aside from the cat ball being turned on when I placed it on the shelf, and turned off when I picked it up (likely due to being old rather than paranormal means) there was nothing of any note from my solo vigil in the food cupboard. A break being called I left my MDF confine and headed towards the exit being met by Keith. As soon as I walked into what I would call an anti-kitchen it felt as if my head was being squeezed. A build of pressure around my brain and behind my eyes that made me feel sick. I explained what I was feeling and was informed that he had felt the same feeling being stood in this space. Declaring that I needed to get out, I left with the sensation dissipating as soon as I crossed the threshold of the main reception room.
Over a coffee (black obviously) I was told that about
halfway through our first session, the fire doors leading to a patio suddenly
flew open scaring one of the team who was completing paperwork at the time. With
hope that this would signify some significant activity we set off for the
second session.
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| Credit: SJP |
Following the signs for the Ruby Suite I soon found myself entering a large ball room. As I started crossing the expanse of polished wood it felt as if I was on the deck of a large galleon in a storm or very, very drunk. Managing to cross the floor I arrived in yet another kitchen/prep area, which opened up into another bar.
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| Credit: SJP |
Leaning against a pillar to try and stop the swaying feeling didn’t help at all, and I was becoming a little concerned this was some physical symptom of something like an inner ear infection that would end my night, such was the way that it was affecting me. I returned to the ball room, where other members of the group were dotted about, where it appeared the ship had moved into calmer waters.
Given the option of scrying or table tipping, I opted for
the latter guessing that if I was swaying anyway maybe this would transfer to a
table. The table set up, three hands on the top we asked if any spirits present
would move the table for us. Rather than the table moving a woman to my left
stumbled backwards as if pushed (or pulled depending on your point of view). A
few more pushes later, it appeared that it was my turn to receive some
attention, feeling a pushing force to my shoulders breaking my hands contact
with the table top.
After some persuasion (and being joined by a fourth guest) the table started to slowly rock, building in speed as the momentum built. The continued rocking was sustained for quite sometime, giving me opportunity to take some video as you can see below:
The sceptic approach to table tipping, is in the same vein
as all human influenceable techniques for example spirit boards, dowsing rods
etc, that micro movements of the users muscles are what cause the ‘evidence’.
Identifying that the table we used had a slight wobble to begin with ensured
that all of us involved with this experiment used the back of our hands and
applied only the lightest of pressure or just touching contact with the table
top. Further safeguards of removing hands from the surface were also employed
and the table continued its actions throughout, of note the only time it did
stop completely was when all hands were touching.
The sitter to my left, who had investigated St Augustine’s
before, said that on her previous visit the spirit of a nun frequented this
space and it could have been her that was making the table dance. Could this be
the spirit of Mere St Andre who taught French and Sewing during the Convent and
young ladies school days who passed away in 1919 after a sudden illness
resulting in a state of fever (She is now laid to rest in Margate Cemetery)?
Closing the table saw us leaving the Ruby Suite and
returning to the reception room bar for some hot beverage refreshment marking
the halfway point of the evening.
I soon found myself ascending the stone steps to the chapel
and directed to a pew to experience the atmosphere. The draw of an open door at
the far end behind the altar was all I could focus on. This was, as I soon
discovered, the priest side of the confessional, with a simple wooden door set
in the wall to hear the sins of the flock.
I ran my voice recorder as we attempted some mock
confessions, and during the evidence review uncovered some interesting bangs,
that I had not heard my side of the wall but had been heard by the subject in
the confessional.
Role playing the priest over I found a side chapel, and setting up a K2 on a lectern I sat on the floor in a solo vigil with the Chattergeist Touch. Declare, Confronting, Swore, Arguably, Electrician appeared in red on the black screen. Attempting to make sense of the words I asked questions to the air but received no clarity.
Declare, Confronting, Swore, Arguably, Electrician appeared
again. Thinking this was odd, maybe something to do with the latest update,
a coincidence or maybe the most important message I’ve received in my
investigating career I was frustrated with the lack of clarity and apparent
reluctance of the spirits to provide further information.
The sound of excitement drew me from the side chapel to the
altar, where the other guests had set up a mag-lite torch which was now turning
itself on and off seemingly on command and in response to questions as well as
appearing to increase in brightness.
Our time in the chapel was soon at an end, and the suggestion of a spirit board session here was met with grimaces from the majority of the group. Collecting the equipment and a quick pit stop for the conveniences signalled the start of the final session of the night.
Led to a dining room we sat at the tables, but the room felt
flat and aside from reports of orbs being seen through a set of night vision
goggles it was decided to move on. The next room had a large circular table,
that we were informed that during a previous investigation had been made to
move through a table tipping session. The spirit of an abusive male, believed
to be a headmaster who enjoyed torturing boys and hated women, resides in this
room. After some confrontational challenges this spirit was unable to shift
this large table, and aside from some activity on a K2 there was not a lot to
write home about.
From available resources I cannot locate any ‘Demon
Headmaster’ characters associated with this location. Aside from relying on the
stereotypes of Catholic Clergy and House Masters in their application of varied
abuses to their vulnerable charges there are no reported instances of these occurring
here (however on a serious note there are many support networks and charities
that can assist if this or anything similar has affected you). These characters
like that of the Grey Lady, or Suicidal Nun are often associated with these
types of establishments through school lore or legend passed from generation to
generation with no actual basis in history other than that they haunt through
word of mouth.
After our misogynist bashing had concluded and proving he
was weak and pathetic through his inability to get it (the table) up. We opted
for a spirit board session in a little alcove with a table set with 4 chairs.
The board was opened with an upturned glass as the
planchette, and the first question was asked “Is there any spirit who wishes to
communicate?” Very slowly and I mean at a snail’s pace the glass moved in the
direction of Yes. I had deployed my K2 which appeared to be a much
easier form of communication as little chirps of green and orange light
flickered in acknowledgement, closely followed by the sound of banging. The
alcove we were in had pipework connected to a radiator and the bangs could be
attributed to the cooling down of hot metal – but from within the plasterboard
covered ceiling I was not wholly convinced of this argument.
Suddenly the whole group reacted to word sounded like a
growl coming from the corridor. A check by someone not attached to the
planchette confirmed that there was no one there to make this sound. The glass
continued to crawl along the surface of the board creeping ever closer to the
affirmative until the session was interrupted by a huge bang that appeared to
come from a nearby fire escape.
Thanking the spirits, the board was closed and our attention
became focused on the door. The glass of the fire escape door was intact.
Access to the door from the outside was restricted by walls and would not have
been reachable by any person, who if present would have been seen through the
adjacent windows. So what had caused the noise? And what had caused this?
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| Credit: SJP |
The Chattergeist Touch, on later review had displayed Declare, Confronting, Swore, Arguably, Electrician 5 further times during the final session. On speaking with another guest I found out that her husband was supposed to be coming tonight but had to cancel due to having to work early the next morning. His job? Electrician.
Contacting the creator of the Touch, Barrie at Dimension
Devices, I made some enquiries as to what could have caused the same set of
words to appear 7 times in different location. The reply had two possible
options, the first that it was a coincidence and that I had got lucky; the
second was that fluctuations in the readings picked up by the Touch were so
similar to previous readings that it created the same output.
So was this a premonition that a cancelled guest would run
into an altercation? The angered and unquieted spirit of George Edmund Mills
killed when he left his workshop on 16th May 1944 by a Nazi Bomb? An
unknown spark lost to the annals of history? Or simply a coincidence? All I do
know is that electricity did not arrive in Westgate-On-Sea until 1920.
I would love to hear your views, thoughts and experiences of the locations I have visited, especially if you can add to the real life stories that I try to capture through my investigations. Please leave me a comment or find me on Instagram @samueljamesparanormal
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