Radio Replay - 27th July 2014

 
Could ghosts be 3D psychic recordings? 

 

Are humans the descendants of apes genetically modified by ancient astronauts? 

 

Was the Rendlesham Forest incident really a mind control experiment? 

 

Just some of the topics touched on in this interesting discussion.

Nigel Kneale - Richard's Room 101

Born on the Isle of Man, Nigel Kneale was a writer active in television, film, radio drama, and prose fiction. He wrote professionally for over fifty years and was, in many ways, the father of serious science-fiction drama on television. Kneale’s most famous creation is the legendary Professor Bernard Quatermass, a heroic rocket scientist who saved humanity from a range of very different alien menaces in a trilogy of stories written by the Manx writer in the 1950s. 

   

The trilogy began with The Quatermass Experiment, in which the first-ever manned space rocket returns to Earth with two of the three astronauts on board missing and the third possessed by some kind of hostile alien organism. In time, this organism consumes and changes the last astronaut into something horrific: a creature that threatens to possess and consume all other life on Earth. However, Quatermass confronts the monster and, with a moving speech, reaches what is left of his friend's humanity, persuading him to sacrifice himself to save the rest of mankind.

   

In the next story, Quatermass II, the professor is asked to examine strange meteorite showers falling in rural England. His investigations lead to him discovering a vast conspiracy involving alien infiltration at the highest levels of the British Government. Somehow these aliens, who have a group consciousness similar to the Borg in Star Trek, can control the minds of people exposed to an alien parasite concealed in their meteorite-like projectiles. The aliens plan to colonise the Earth, but Quatermass manages to stop them by destroying their asteroid base in orbit, very sadly losing his close friend and colleague Dr. Pugh in the process. 

    

Finally, in the best and last story of the 1950s trilogy, Quatermass and the Pit, Quatermass becomes involved in the discovery of a strange object near some apemen remains that are millions of years old, at an archaeological dig in Knightsbridge, London. The odd object is first thought to be an unexploded World War II bomb, but then more apemen remains are found mysteriously inside the back of the object and later, more disturbingly, the decaying bodies of dead insect-like creatures are found inside the front. The object turns out to be a nuclear-powered spaceship, five million years old, the creatures: Martians and the apemen: their creations … us … the human race.

  

In the story, we learn that when Mars was dying, the ancient Martians had tried to create a colony on Earth by proxy. They altered mankind’s early ancestors, giving them minds and abilities like their own, but with a body adapted to Earth. More worryingly, they also passed on to mankind their genocidal instincts to destroy anyone different from themselves. In effect, making us the Martians now. Fortunately, the Martians died out before completing their plan, and, as humankind bred and further evolved, most outgrew their darker Martian inheritance.

  

Unfortunately, somehow the spaceship reawakens the old Martian instincts, transforming more and more people into genocidal Martians on a race purge, destroying anyone unaffected by the ship’s evil influence. However, Quatermass finds a way to stop the ethnic cleansing before the Martians turn the Earth into a second dead planet. He also tragically loses another friend in doing so.

  

   

  

In each of the three Quatermass stories, Kneale managed to tap into the popular interests and, more importantly, anxieties of the time. In The Quatermass Experiment, he played on the mass interest in the early space race and the new threat of nuclear war. The UK conducted the earliest post-war tests of captured Nazi V-2 rockets in Operation Backfire, less than six months after the war in Europe ended, and the development of a British launch system to carry a nuclear device started in 1950. So there was a real fear that one of these rockets could come falling out of the sky bringing with it destruction, as one does in The Quatermass Experiment. Then, in Quatermass II, before Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Kneale exploited the popular paranoia about the threat of communist infiltration and subversion of the West. Like nuclear war, this was a real fear at the time. For instance, in 1951, two members of the British establishment, Burgess and Maclean, had made international headlines by very publicly defecting to the Soviet Union. And, finally, with the Notting Hill race riots of 1958 still very much fresh in peoples' minds, Kneale wrote Quatermass and the Pit admittedly as a fable about race hate.

  

Kneale’s Quatermass trilogy clearly had a huge impact that continues to be felt even today, influencing everyone from Chris Carter to Gene Roddenberry. The Quatermass Experiment (1953) was the very first science fiction production to be written especially for an adult television audience and cleared the way for the many others that followed it. Also, the three basic alien invasion storylines were first pioneered on television by Kneale in the Quatermass stories. In The Quatermass Experiment, we go to the aliens and bring them back, in Quatermass II the aliens come to us, and in Quatermass and the Pit, we discover that the aliens were here all along.

  

But it would be a mistake to think that Nigel Kneale only wrote stories involving alien possession and invasion. An excellent example of this is The Abominable Snowman, a 1957 Hammer horror film based on Kneale’s own BBC television play The Creature. Again tapping into popular interest at the time, the film follows the exploits of an English anthropologist with an American expedition as they search the Himalayas for the legendary Yeti, the apemen of Tibet. In the real world, speculation about the existence of an unidentified creature living in the Himalayas had been sparked off in November 1951, when Eric Shipton and Michael Ward of the Everest Reconnaissance Expedition found several large footprints as they traversed the Menlung Glacier, and, two years later, Edmund Hillary made a similar discovery during his historic conquest of Mount Everest.

   

In the film, Kneale turns perceptions on their head by suggesting that the so-called Abominable Snowman is not so abominable at all and, perhaps, even a great deal better than mankind who turn out to be the real monsters. The central idea being that the Yeti are our collateral descendants from the apes and are patiently and peacefully waiting for mankind to destroy himself, either quickly through war or slowly through pollution, before descending from the mountains to inherit the Earth. 

  

Another excellent example is The Stone Tape, a Christmas ghost story from 1972 and Kneale’s last major original work for the BBC. Like Quatermass and the Pit before it (which suggested that poltergeist activity could be explained by the psychic abilities left to us by the Martians), The Stone Tape combined science fiction with the supernatural. The television play revolves around a group of scientists who move into a new research facility: an allegedly haunted Victorian mansion. Curious, they investigate the alleged ghost but soon determine that it is really just some kind of recording of a past event somehow stored by stone in one of the rooms (the stone tape of the title). Believing that this discovery may lead to the development of a whole new recording medium, which they were originally brought together to find in the first place, they throw all their knowledge and high-tech equipment into trying to find a means of playing back the stone tape recording at will. However, their investigations only serve to unleash a far older and more malevolent force, with tragic consequences. Of course, The Stone Tape is where “the stone tape theory” familiar to many paranormal researchers today originates. 

   

Kneale also wrote three excellent dystopian texts, a fourth Quatermass story The Quatermass Conclusion, a 1954 television adaptation of George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four for the BBC, and The Year of the Sex Olympics. It is the last of these that proved to be the most prophetic. Broadcast in 1968 The Year of the Sex Olympics seemed to accurately predict the creation of reality TV in the 1990s.

 

Set “sooner than you think” in the TV play society is divided between “low-drives” that receive no education and “hi-drives” who control the government and media. The low drives are controlled by a constant broadcast of pornography that the hi-drives believe will pacify them. But after the accidental death of a protester during the Sex Olympics gets a massive audience response, the authorities create a new TV programme, The Live Life Show. In the new show, a family is moved to a remote Scottish island while the low-drive audience watches. 

   

Hopefully, this goes some way to answering the question of who Nigel Kneale was. Of all the great science fiction writers to emerge from these islands since World War II, including the likes of Arthur C. Clarke, perhaps only Nigel Kneale comes anywhere close to matching H G. Wells in terms of lasting public impact and sheer brilliance. Both successfully tapped into the mass anxieties of their time and placed them at the centre of their stories, making science fiction accessible to the general public. In short, what Wells did for science fiction in print, Kneale did on television, clearing the way for intelligent science fiction drama on the small screen.

READ RICHARD'S ROOM 101 COLUMN FOR BINNALL OF AMERICA

The Appleby Poltergeist

The following guest article is by Rupert Matthews, author of the book Haunted Hampshire.

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The Appleby Poltergeist

By Rupert Matthews

Another late 19th century case that was well documented took place in a home near the village of Appleby in what was then Westmorland, but is now Cumbria. One of those involved kept a diary and wrote down the events as they happened, allowing us to follow the progress of this particular visitation in detail.
 
The house in question was a former flour mill which, like so many in England, was abandoned in the 1880s when cheap grain imported from North America and milled at dockside industrial mills took over the market for mills. In 1887 the semi-derelict old watermill was bought by a businessman from Manchester named Fowler to be a comfortable country home for his family. He would have to go to Manchester to work, and intended to stay in a small apartment over his business when he did so. At the time that family consisted of Mr Fowler, his wife and two daughters: Teddie aged 12 and Jessica aged 14.
 
Before the family moved in the old mill had to be converted to make it suitable for use as a house. Most of these changes were cosmetic, but one was more substantial and came to have relevance to what followed. The mill water wheel had formerly been linked to a large axle which entered the mill through the side wall overlooking the river. It was connected in the 'wheel room' to a mass of machinery, gears and so faorth that converted the motion of the wheel into movement that could be used by the milling machinery. The room was lit by a large window while a door gave access to some stone steps and a gangtry from which the wheel itself could be inspected and, if necessary, repaired. A door led from the wheel room into the kitchen.
 
Fowler hired workmen who removed the wheel and all the machinery. He then had the door bricked up, but left the window as it was. The wall separating the wheel room from the rest of the kitchen was torn down and replaced by a more flimsy partition that stood much closer to the wall with the window overlooking the river. This created a much larger kitchen with a storeroom occupying the reduced space of the wheel room - which however was still termed the wheel room.
 
The bilding work was finished in early May 1887 and the family moved in. About two weeks later, Teddie complained of feeling ill and began to run a slight fever. Her mother put her to bed and decided that she should rest there for a day or two. That evening the other three members of the family were eating supper in the kitchen when the sound of breaking glass came from the wheel room.
 
Mr Foster went into the room to find a pane of glass in the window had been smashed. At first he thought that a large bird might have flown into the window and broken it, but he soon decided that the pane had been smashed deliberately. He peered out but could see nobody. He then walked through the kitchen and out into his garden from where he could get a good view up and down the stream, and of the path that ran along the far side. Again, nobody was in sight.
 
Foster then returned to the wheel room and began clearing up the broken glass. He quickly found the missle that had smashed the window. It was a large stone identical to those found in the rocky bed of the stream, and it was still wet. It was obvious where the stone had come from, but who had thrown it was a mystery.
 
Ten days later the family were again at supper when the sounds of somebody knocking on the far side of the partition to the wheel room began. The knocking noises got louder and more insistent, then moved to the door that led from the kitchen to the storage room. Thinking some prankster was at work, Foster walked over and opened the door. The noises stopped at once. There was nobody in the room.
 
Three days later Mrs Fowler and Jessica were in the kitchen engaged in housework when they heard voices coming from the wheel room. The voices were not loud, and neither Mrs Fowler nor Jessica could catch what they were saying. They knew that nobody was in the wheel room and fled the house. They were standing in the garden wondering what to do when a man who worked on a neighbouring farm was seen walking down the lane. Mrs Fowler told the man that she was worried that somebody was in the house. The farmhand went in and searched diligently but found nobody.
 
That night the voices in the wheel room came again as the family were at supper. This time they were louder and could be heard to be a man and woman, though the words could still not be made out. There then came a sound like a saucer being dropped on the floor and broken. Mr Fowler quickly opened the door to the wheel room. The voices stopped. There was no broken saucer, nor anything that could have explained the noise.
 
Mr Foster knew that on the folowing Monday he would need to go to Manchester, and would need to stay there for several days to look after his business. He did not want to leave his family alone, but dreaded what would happen if he announced that the house was haunted. He sent for an employee named Dick Carter, whom he knew to be level- headed, and asked him and his wife to come to stay at the mill.
 
Before Carter arrived, Foster screwed two stout metal bars across the door that led from the kithen to the wheel room so that it could not be opened from either side. As he did so a stone smashed through the window in the wheel room. Foster then fixed a wire mesh over the window on the outside. On the Monday, Foster explained to Carter what had been going on and expressed his fear that the house was haunted. Carter promised to keep a close eye on things. Foster then left for Manchester.
 
That evening it was Mr and Mrs Carter, Mrs Foster, Teddie and Jessica who ate supper in the kitchen. The two women were clearing up when the manifestations began, this time far more dramatic than before. The first thing that happened was that a cup fell off the dresser, followed by a pair of saucers and another cup. Then a jug of beer tipped over and spilled its contents all over the floor. This was followed by the fire irons which began dancing about in their holder. The coal scuttle then began shooting out pieces of coal that flew across the room. The girls screamed and dived for cover, followed quickly by Mrs Fowler. Carter stood up and surveyed the mayhem around him. He had promised to keep an eye on things and was determined to note carefully everything that happend so that he could report to his employer. Suddenly everything fell still.
 
Then noises came from the sealed up wheel room. It sounded as if the boxes in the room were being thrown about. Then came the sound of hammering and banging. Carter ushered everyone out of the house, then got into a small boat and crossed to the far side of the river to get a good view through the window of the wheel room. He watched as packing cases moved back and forth. Then an empty pram was seen floating up to the ceiling, then moving off to one side. The pram drifted past the window five times. Then the movements and noises ceased. After 20 minutes of silence, Carter recrossed the stream and entered the house. All was quiet, so he waved the others in. Carter sat up all night in the kitchen while the others went to bed. Nothing much happened and Carter dozed off toward dawn.
 
Next morning, Carter got a ladder and climbed up to peer into the wheel room. All the packing boxes had been piled up against one wall. The pram was perched on top.
 
Nothing happened for the rest of the week, but when Fowler came home the disturbances broke out again. Once more the packing cases and pram were moved about the sealed room, loud hanmmering noises were heard. Then the voices came back. Again the actual words could not be heard but it sounded as if the man and woman were having an argument. This lasted an hour, then quiet returned.
 
Over the months that followed the disturbances continued unabated. There might be a few days when nothing happend, then the noises and movements would come back. Mr Fowler’s diary for two weeks in August are typical. The references to everyday life have been ommitted, but the entries relevant to the visitation read as follows:
 
Saturday Augsut 13Four jugs broken in kitchen. Several knocks on door. Scraping sound on wheel room window.
 
Monday August 15Cat frightened at something in kitche, and has run away.
 
Thursday August 18Five spoons found on floor of kitchen this morning, on dresser over night. Jess had a plate thrown at her. Noises in the wheel room.
 
Sunday August 21Queit, except for jug of water upset, and knives found in sink.
 
Friday August 26A noisy night last night. On guardoutside wheel room. They kept it up for nearly two hours. Ink bottles thrown to floor.
 
Monday September 5No sleep last night. On guard all night. Hell is in the wheel room. Wife stayed up part of time.
 
It is hardly suprising that the Fowler family felt like a holiday after such a summer. Mr Fowler had a married sister living on the Isle of Man and he arranged for them all to go to visit her for a couple of weeks in September. Before leaving he made a point of putting all loose objects away, locking every door and making a careful note of where everything was. He then asked a neighbour to keep an eye on the place, coming to check the outside doors and windows were locked every day.
 
The Fowlers were away for four weeks. When the time came to return home, Teddie asked if she could stay on with her aunt. So it was that Mr and Mrs Fowler returned home with only Jessica. They found that the house was exactly as they had left it. There were no further manifestations of any kind.
 
Once the trouble was over, Fowler felt mroe able to talk about the events. He talked to the local curate who agreed to do some reasearch. He discovered that one of the former workers at the mill had been a Welshman named Tom Watkins. Watkins had been employed to look after the machinery in the wheel room, and often slept in the room when the mill was busy. Watkins formed a friendship with a local woman, and the woman’s husband took exception to the way the 'friendship' was progressing. One night in the local inn a fight had broken out between Watkins and the husband, which ended with the latter dying from a blow to the head. Watkins was arrested, but let go after it became clear that the other man had attacked him first. Watkins and the widow had then moved off to Wales and their subsequent fate was unknown.
 
The visitation was promptly put down to a haunting connected to these events. The ghost heard arguing in the wheel room were assumed to be those of Watkins and his lover.
 
  

Rupert Matthews is the author of the book Haunted Hampshire which is published by the History Press (ISBN 978-0752448626) and available on Amazon and from all good bookshops. You can find Rupert’s website at www.rupertmatthews.com. He also maintains a blog about the unexplained at www.ghosthunteratlarge.blogspot.com.

Swansea Ghosts

Bevly Louise tells us about her ghost story.

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My Paranormal Story

By Bevly Louise
   

I'm not really interested in the paranormal (and I'm not really sure that I believe in a lot of stories) but I do have an awesome paranormal story for you. Between last christmas and new year I held a small party at my house. After everyone else had gone two of my closest (male) friends decided to stay up drinking. I was tired and it was about 5.00am so I went to bed and left them to the sofas. About two hours later, I could hear one of them (Jarrad) calling my name from the stairs. He'd gotten lost in the house and was in a real state and couldn't remember where my room was (note: it's not a big house; he was just very drunk and stupid). Once I calmed him down he told me that there were ghosts downstairs and I needed to come down and "sort it out". I went down in full sceptic mode to find my other friend (Mike) curled up in a ball in a corner. Apparently Mike had seen two old men and a young man who had appeared in the house and stood in the room questioning how my friends knew me and what was going on. My friend Jarrad's story changed frequently, but settled on him denying having seen them himself. However, he did say that one of the men had told him that their name (Tony). Both fully grown (quite masculine) men were visibly shaken and wouldn't be left alone. Neither boy would let me go back to sleep and would not be alone (even went to the toilet together). At first, I assumed that these were burglars and checked the house. Then I thought that maybe they were neighbours (but afterwards confirmed that they hadn't come into the house). I doubt that they were "guests" at the party since I myself locked everything up before going to bed and my friends would not have been scared if they'd let someone in. My mum pointed out later that when I was young the man living next door was my godfather and called Tony. My friends refuse to talk about it now (or when they do, they joke and put up a lot of bravado) so I guess I'll never know what happened.
 
 

The Splashing Hooves

The following guest article is by Rupert Matthews, author of the book Haunted Hampshire.

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The Splashing Hooves
By Rupert Matthews

Of all the haunted sites in Buckinghamshire, few are as atmospheric as the Ford at Fulmer.
 
The narrow lanes around the village of Fulmer are lined by high hedges which are awash with wildflowers in the spring and summer. Birds rustle through the undergrowth and hatchlings call for their mothers. Come autumn and berries line the lanes where brambles twist between the hedges and fences, while old man’s beard sits gently on the branches. Even in winter these lanes are delightful places. The hedges shelter the walker from the chill winds while frost decorates the landscape with its sparkling white magic.
 
But the atmosphere quickly changes when you approach the ford. The trees crowd in upon the road, reaching to meet overhead in a dark embrace that blots out the sunlight. The road dips suddenly downward and at once the air is chill and dank. Silence replaces bird song and even the air seems still and silent in this shaded spot. There certainly does seem to be something odd about this place.

At night the atmosphere is even more marked. The overhanging trees cut off what light might come from the moon or stars and the ford is plunged into an almost solid blackness. It is at such times that the distant clump, clumpity, clump of approaching horses can be heard. As the horses draw nearer, the crunching rumble of carriage wheels becomes distinct.

Odd this, as the road is now metalled over with tarmac, but the hooves and wheels seem to be crunching through gravel. Then, suddenly, horse and carriage plunges into the ford. Water is splashed by the hooves and wheels as the vehicle drives through the waters of the Alder Bourne, then emerge again and push on up towards Gerrards Cross.
 
Odder still is the fact that although the sounds are quite distinct, nothing is to be seen. The horse and carriage which careers through the ford are quite invisible. It is, Ghosthunter has been told by one who has heard it, a most unnerving experience.
 
Fortunately it is not all ghostly gloom around Fulmer. The Black Horse, which stands beside the church in the village centre, offers welcome hospitality after an encounter with the chilling atmosphere of the ford. Visitors are welcome to park their cars in the ample car park beside the pub while the walk down to the ford, so long as they seek refreshment in the Black Horse afterwards. Ghosthunter can recommend the roast lamb shank, but a tempting array of other dishes are also on offer.
 
And you can learn the strange tale of local character Slippery Dickory while you are there.

The Ford lies just to the east of the village of Fulmer where Hawkswood Lane crosses the Alder Bourne stream. You can park your car beside The Ford if you wish, but the lane is narrow and you will be missing out on a very pleasant walk. Far better to park your car in Fulmer village and walk down the narrow Alderbourne Lane which leaves the village beside the parish church. After half a mile you come to a T-junction. Turn left down the hill into Hawkswood Lane. The Ford is just a hundred yards or so away from the junction. 
 
  
Rupert Matthews is the author of the book Haunted Hampshire which is published by the History Press (ISBN 978-0752448626) and available on Amazon and from all good bookshops. You can find Rupert’s website at www.rupertmatthews.com. He also maintains a blog about the unexplained at www.ghosthunteratlarge.blogspot.com.

Ghostly cries at Upton Court, Slough

The following guest article is by Rupert Matthews, author of the book Haunted Hampshire.

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“Why?  Why?”
By Rupert Matthews

It is a disturbing phantom which haunts Upton Court and the adjacent Upton Court Park. More than one witness to the haunting has come away unable to sleep for some nights afterwards. For not only is this a particularly gruesome ghost, but its plaintive wail seems to penetrate the brain and haunts the mind as surely as the ghost haunts Upton Court Park itself.

If you want to encounter this disturbing ghost, then Friday evenings as the day turns to dusk are said to be the best time to visit. Not that those who see it would want to repeat the experience.

“I was taking the dog for a walk,” one witness told Ghosthunter. "I had covered a fair bit of ground and were coming back up the long walk that runs from the main road past the children’s playground. I saw a woman standing on the grass in a light-coloured coat. At first I took little notice. I thought she was someone else walking the dog or something. Then she turned to me and I saw she had spilled something down the front of her coat or dress. It was bright red and I realised it was blood. Then she started to sob and cry. It was really upsetting. I thought something must be very wrong. She looked off to one side and called out 'Why? Why', then began crying again. She called out 'Why?' one more time, then vanished.”
 
When asked how she vanished, the man said “She seemed to shake to pieces, sort of like if you are looking at something reflected in a pond and then splash the surface, but not quite like that. It was really weird.”
 
The gentleman at the Sough Council Parks Department knew about the ghost and was happy to confirm to Ghosthunter that it was of a lady in a pale dress. But he had not seen it. Instead, he was keen to emphasise the sporting and leisure facilities on offer in the park which are, indeed, impressive.
 
Who this ghost may be is unknown, but it is generally believed that she is connected in some way with Upton Court. She is said to appear most often close to the house and, on occasion, in the house itself. The oldest part of the house dates back to the 15th century when it was the central manor of a large estate owned by Merton Abbey.
 
It was blowing a gale on the Friday when Ghosthunter visited. A cold easterly wind whipped across the bare grassland and moaned in the trees. There were few people out in the park, apart from a couple walking their dog and they slunk off well before dusk. A few cars rumbled slowly down the narrow road towards the Cricket and Rugby Clubs, but these are at the far end of the park from Upton Court itself and far from the haunts of the lady with the bloodstained dress.
 
Suddenly something snatched at Ghosthunter’s shoulder and gripped firmly, but it was only a twig blown loose from a tree in the wind. The pitiful white lady was not walking that Friday night.
  
To find Upton Court and its Park, follow the A4 to the large roundabout where this road crosses the A412. Take the A412 south half a mile to a second roundabout where it turns sharp right and the B376 goes straight on. Upton Court is immediately on your left, set back from the road across a broad lawn. The building is now occupied by private offices and is not open to the public. To reach the Park, turn left at the second roundabout down Upton Court Road and park in the car park situated on the right after about 300 yards. A gate from the car park opens in to Upton Court Park. If using public transport, catch a train to Slough Station. Exit into William Street and walk south to the roundabout which forms a junction with the A4. Turn left and walk about 4 00 yards to the junction with the A412, then proceed as if you were driving. The walk from the station is just over a mile in length.  
  
  
Rupert Matthews is the author of the book Haunted Hampshire which is published by the History Press (ISBN 978-0752448626) and available on Amazon and from all good bookshops. You can find Rupert’s website at www.rupertmatthews.com. He also maintains a blog about the unexplained at www.ghosthunteratlarge.blogspot.com.

The Black Monk of Missenden Abbey, Great Missenden

The following guest article is by Rupert Matthews, author of the book Haunted Hampshire.

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The Black Monk
By Rupert Matthews

The Black Monk of Missenden is one of the most active ghosts in Buckinghamshire. Stories about him in Great Missenden are legion. It almost seems that this phantom takes a positive delight in popping up around the village and giving locals - and visitors - a fright.

The centre of the hauntings is, of course, the Abbey which lies just off the High Street towards the southern end of the village. In medieval times this was a wealthy Augustinian monastery which owned vast estates in the area. As with all such religious houses, Great Missenden was founded on the principles of holiness, poverty and prayer. But the Black Monks of Missenden did not stick to their principles for long.

With increasing wealth and prosperity pouring into the Abbey, the monks acquired a taste for luxury and loose living. The monks were accustomed to slipping out of the Abbey by means of a secret tunnel which led to a tavern in the village. There they discarded their habits and dressed in fashionable clothing, before riding off to enjoy themselves in the fleshpots of London. The phantom Black Monk is said to be one of these spectacularly worldly monks.

By the 1530s the growing scandal could not be suppressed any longer. MIssenden found itself one of the first to be closed down by King Henry VIII in his dissolution of the monasteries.

The Black Monk most often wanders the grounds of the Abbey and the watermeadows to the south. Walking with downturned head and slow footsteps, he is seen plodding across the grass at all hours of the day and night. He is sometimes seen heading east towards the Church of Saint Peter and Saint Paul. Built in the 15th century, the church catered to the villagers, but the monks sometimes came here to preach. Some witnesses say he is carrying a sword, which would make him sinful even by the standards of the monks of the Missenden Abbey, but others say it is a staff.

The village itself also plays host to this wide ranging phantom. In the 1970s a glazier at work on a property in the High Street saw a figure dressed in black enter the room on which he was working, although the house was locked and empty. The streets just around the George Inn are a particular favourite for the ghost, though here he is most often glimpsed at night and only indistinctly. The George dates back to the 15th century, so perhaps this is the tavern where the monks would change their clothing.

Missenden Abbey is these days a Conference Centre and venue for weddings, birthday parties and the like and is not open to the general public. However, a public footpath does run around the grounds and from here you can see the meadows where the Black Monk is at his most active. To find the footpath, walk away from the village southward along the High Street, which becomes London Road. After about 300 yards there is a gravel road on the left which leads to an iron kissing gate. This is the start of the footpath which runs across the meadows flanking the River Misbourne before climbing the hill to the parish church and thence, down Church Lane, returns to the village centre. It makes for an enjoyable half hour walk which Ghosthunter thoroughly recommends.
 
Great Missenden is well served by both road and rail. The A413 runs by way of a modern bypass to the east of the village. If approaching by car, exit the A413 at the roundabout where the A 4128 heads off to the west. This road runs directly into the village centre and a small car park can be found just on the right of the road. If coming by rail, alight at Great Missenden Station and walk out into Station Approach and then turn right to reach the centre of the village. If you need refreshment after tracking the Black Monk around his usual haunts, you are not short of choices. Great Missenden has a number of pubs, each of which is most welcoming and serves very tasty food. It would be unfair to pick out one for recommendation at the expense of the others. Just take your pick. The Black Monk does!
   
If you know of any local ghosts or other strange phenomena, contact the Bucks Ghosthunter on: ghosthunter@bretwalda.demon.co.uk or 07721 455944.
 
  
Rupert Matthews is the author of the book Haunted Hampshire which is published by the History Press (ISBN 978-0752448626) and available on Amazon and from all good bookshops. You can find Rupert’s website at www.rupertmatthews.com. He also maintains a blog about the unexplained at www.ghosthunteratlarge.blogspot.com.

The Phantom Martyrs

The following guest article is by Rupert Matthews, author of the book Haunted Hampshire.

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The Phantom Martyrs
By Rupert Matthews

As one of the oldest buildings in Amersham, it hardly surprising to learn that the Chequers pub is haunted. But what is unusual is the nature of the ghosts to be found in this charming old inn and the frequency with which they are seen.

Because there is not one ghost in the pub, but nine! Some are more active than others, of course, but the welcoming landlord Stuart is happy to tell you about them all.

The main part of The Chequers was built in about 1450, and fifty years later the gruesome events which led to the haunting took place. In those days religion was not a subject to be trifled with. The Catholic authorities took a very dim view of Protestant ‘troublemakers’ who went around making outrageous demands such as wanting the Bible printed in English, or asking how paying a thick wadge of cash to the Pope could remit your sins in the eyes of God.

What these ‘troublemakers’ needed, the authorities believed, was a good burning at the stake. And one of the hotbeds of Protestant questioning was Amersham. Which brings us to the Chequers, for it was here that some hapless Protestants were kept under armed guard before being taken out and burnt.

The leader of the Protestants of Amersham was one William Tylsworth. He, together with six other men, were convicted of heresy and condemned to be burnt at the stake in nearby Rectory Woods. The men were kept locked up overnight in an outbuilding of the pub under the watchful eye of a man named Osman. Next day the men were led to their deaths. In a macabre twist, Tylsworth’s own daughter Joan was forced at swordpoint to light the fire that was to kill her father and take him to martyrdom.

It is hardly surprising that the moans and groans of the Amersham Martyrs have continued to disturb this building ever since. At one time the groans were so loud and persistent that it was difficult to sleep at the inn. The chamber where the martyrs were held lies to the back of the pub and can be identified by its old wooden door - the other outbuildings having more modern doors. The moans are today less disturbing than they used to be, which is just as well for the pub does a thriving bed and breakfast business.

There is, however, one small room where paying guests are not put, and with good reason. This room is occasionally visited by a hooded woman dressed all in white. She is said to be the unhappy spirit of Joan, returning to grieve for the father she was forced to kill.

“Actually, I quite like it up here,” Stuart the landlord told Ghosthunter when we visited the haunted room. “It has a very restful atmosphere. I can get on with my paperwork or have a nap without being disturbed by the noise from the bar.” A steely soul indeed to have a nap in the presence of a spectre.

And the bar itself is haunted by an equally persistent ghost. This is Osman, the gaoler who has been condemned to return time and again to the site where he sent innocent martyrs to their deaths. His cloaked figure is seen lurking near the fireplace in the front section of the bar. Not so long ago a new barman who knew nothing of the ghost asked the landlord about the man dressed in black he had seen apparently trying to climb the chimney. Was it a chimney sweep? No, it was Osman.

Ghosts apart, the Chequers is a fine example of an old country inn. The ancient fabric has not been too much altered over the years and the old timbers and beams add character to the bar. The ale is well- kept, as Ghosthunter can testify, and the omelette speciality is every bit as good. Ghosthunting can be hungry work, so what could be more convenient than to find good food in the very place where a haunting takes place?
 
The Chequers public house stands on London Road West, otherwise known as the A365. If you are driving, the pub has its own car park on just off the north side of road. If you are using public transport, take the train to Amersham. On leaving the station walk south down Station Road for about half a mile, then turn left at the roundabout. The Chequers pub is about 100 yards on the left.
   
 
Rupert Matthews is the author of the book Haunted Hampshire which is published by the History Press (ISBN 978-0752448626) and available on Amazon and from all good bookshops. You can find Rupert’s website at www.rupertmatthews.com. He also maintains a blog about the unexplained at www.ghosthunteratlarge.blogspot.com.

The Monk at Winchester Cathedral

The following guest article is by Rupert Matthews, author of the book Haunted Hampshire.

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The Monk at Winchester Cathedral
By Rupert Matthews

Winchester Cathedral is surely the most popular building in the city. It is among both the largest and the oldest of Winchester’s many tourist attractions, it has been celebrated in music and has featured on postcards sent to almost every country on earth.

So popular is it, that visitors come back time and again to wonder at its beauty and majestic setting. Some come back more often than others. One has been coming back at intervals for the past 600 years. He simply cannot get enough of the Cathedral.

The phantom in question, for a ghost he undoubtedly is, is that of a monk. He seems to feel the attractions of the Cathedral more strongly at some times than at others. He was seen frequently in the post-war years and again in the 1970s, but at other times rarely puts in an appearance more than once a year.

If the frequency of his appearances are irregular, his habits - if you will pardon the pun - are not. He slowly materialises out of nothingness in the southern end of the Close, close to house No.11. Having become solid, the phantom moves across the Close towards the arch which forms a roadway to gardens near the South Transept.

But this ghost does not glide in the approved fashion of ghosts. He limps. And he limps quite badly. No footsteps are heard, but those who have seen the ghostly monk notice that he almost drags his right foot as he moves across the Close. Continuing has painful progress, the monk approaches the arch and then fades from sight. Some claim he passes through the arch, others that he shimmers and slips away into a misty form that fades from sight.

I came to the Cathedral on a bright spring day when there was still a hint of winter in the chill breeze. Office workers and shop staff were munching on sandwiches in the Cathedral Close and on the Green in front of the great West Front. There were some tourists too, but they were intent on getting into the Cathedral, or out again and on to the next tourist site.

Most of the sandwich scoffers knew little or nothing of the ghostly monk. Though one young woman ventured “Oh, yeah. Some chap took a photo of the ghost in the Cathedral. I’ve seen it in a book.” This, in fact, was a quite different ghost entirely - of a medieval workman, but that is another story.

Finally, I found someone who knew of the spectral cathedral monk. “My brother saw it  once,” declared a middle aged gent in a well-cut tweed jacket. “Nothing very frightening about it though. Just a monk walking to the cathedral. He didn’t even have his head under his arm.” But then very few ghosts do appear as the popular stories would have us imagine. When was this? “Oh some years ago now. The 1970s? Could be, could be.”

Quite how old the phantom might be is rather unclear. Winchester Cathedral is one of the oldest religious foundations in England. As the centre of the old Kingdom of Wessex, Winchester was the home of the kingdom’s most prestigious religious building since the conversion of Wessex in the 7th century. The foundations of the Saxon cathedral can be seen traced out on the green just north of the present building.
The mighty cathedral we see today was largely the work of the Normans, who tore down the old church and erected their own to mark in majestic stone the start of the new regime. The church was extended in the 13th century and in the 14th was remodelled in the then fashionable Perpendicular Gothic. Throughout all this time, the Cathedral was served by monks. Only after Henry VIII’s Dissolution in the 16th century did the monks leave the cathedral to the clergy. In theory the phantom monk might date back to any century from the 7th to the 16th.

But there is one clue. During one of the periods of alterations that take place around the cathedral from time to time a number of burials were unearthed in what is now a private garden, but was evidently then part of the cathedral precincts. The bodies were all male and date to about the 14th century. They were probably monks.

What does this have to do with our phantom? Well, one of the bodies had a grossly deformed arthritic right knee. It would have given him a very bad limp.

Having explored the Cathedral and its Close thoroughly, I felt it was time for some refreshment. Luckily the Old Market Inn was at hand. The ancient bar played host to a wide variety of local ales, and one of these was swiftly consumed. Meanwhile the menu carried some truly exotic dishes from the Mediterranean. Being something of a traditional chap, I resisted the temptations of linguini, penne or prosciutto and instead plumped for the Old Market Mixed Grill. And jolly good it was too!

Winchester Cathedral is easy to find. If arriving by car, park in one of the town centre car parks. If coming by public transport, alight at the central Winchester stops. Either way, you should then follow the tourist brown and white signs to the Cathedral. The Close lies south of the Cathedral and can be reached on foot from the green which lies in front of the great west front. The Old Market Inn stands just to the north of the same green.


Rupert Matthews is the author of the book “Haunted Hampshire” which is published by the History Press (ISBN 978-0752448626) and available on Amazon and from all good bookshops. You can find Rupert’s website at www.rupertmatthews.com. He also maintains a blog about the unexplained at www.ghosthunteratlarge.blogspot.com.

The Ghosts of Battle - Alton

The following guest article is by Rupert Matthews, author of the book Haunted Hampshire.

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The Ghosts of Battle - Alton
By Rupert Matthews

The Hampshire town of Alton has spent most of its centuries-long history slumbering in gentle tranquillity. But on one violent and bloody day in 1643 it leapt to national fame. The fame may have gone, but the marks of the violence remain - both physical and spectral.

During the 1640s, England was torn apart by the Civil War that would see King Charles I sent to the scaffold and end in victory for the Parliamentarian roundheads of Oliver Cromwell. But in December 1643 the war had only just begun. The King had raised an army from the Midlands and the West Country, while Parliament hold London and East Anglia.

The townsfolk of Alton were fiercely Royalist, so they viewed the arrival of a Parliamentarian army in Farnham with unease. Help was at hand, however, for a regiment of infantry and a squadron of cavalry, led by Lord Crawford, rode into town to hold it for the King. Crawford bivouacked his troops in the hopfields that then surrounded the town and converted the Church of St Lawrence into his command post. Firing platforms were built inside each window, allowing musketeers to fire through the glass. He then sent scouts out towards Farnham to keep an eye on the Roundheads.

The Parliamentarian commander, however, was the notoriously wily Sir William Waller. He allowed Crawfords scouts to see his men encamped around Farnham and foraging around Bentley. Then he marched his main body of men northwest, swinging north of Alton to attack the town down what is now the A339.

Crawford was taken by surprise and hurriedly gave the order to retreat towards Winchester. He left in the town a rearguard of about 100 infantry under Colonel John Boles with orders to delay Waller’s 3,000 men as long as possible before running for it or surrendering.

Boles skirmished through the streets of the town before making his final stand in the Church. For several hours his crack musketeers held off the Roundheads, shooting down any that dared to cross the churchyard. But eventually the ammunition ran out and the Roundheads were able to batter down the church doors and burst in.

The enraged Waller gave little quarter and only a few Royalists were taken alive. Colonel Boles was not among them. He took his stand in the pulpit with pistols and sword. It is said he killed 6 Roundheads before he was cut down. But he and his men had not died in vain. The main Royalist force had slipped away from the trap to regroup in Winchester.

The marks of this fight are still seen in the Church. The South Door has a loophole cut in it from which Royalist musketeers fired at the enemy, and it is pitted by bullet holes. Elsewhere the stonework, especially around the windows, is pockmarked by bullets, some of which remain embedded deep in the stones. When the roof was repaired in the 19th century dozens of bullets were retrieved for the old timbers, some of which are on show in a glass case in the church.

But I was more interested in the less obvious relics of the grim battle. The ghosts of Boles and his men are said to return to fight their last battle time and again in the Churchyard and in the Church itself. Several people have reported hearing shouts and cursing as well as the slash of metal on metal and the unmistakable “phut-bang” of ancient muskets being fired. Some have even reported the smell of burnt gunpowder. The noises of battle begin outside, then move inside and end at the pulpit, still standing, where Colonel Boles died so valiantly. Nothing, however, is ever seen.

I came to Alton on a calm spring summer’s day after an hour of sunshine had dried up the water left by a torrential downpour. Nobody much was about, perhaps fearing another heavy shower. He heard no gunfire, nor smelt gunpowder. The Church of St Lawrence stood peaceful and serene within its great churchyard.

This is, perhaps, how it should be. The Church dates back to about 1070, having been built in the exciting new Norman style within a few years of the Norman Conquest. This original church remains, though it has been extended to north, west and east over the years. It has not, however changed much since the day of battle. The West Door has been bricked up, but otherwise it stands pretty much as it was when repairs after the battle were completed in 1646.

Whether you are hunting ghosts, looking for a historic church or just after somewhere for a quiet moment of peace, the Church of St Lawrence in Alton is well worth a visit. I recommend it.

The Church of St Lawrence is one of the most imposing buildings in Alton. The town lies just off the A31 and is well-served by carparks. The train service on the London-Portsmouth line is frequent and the train station close to the centre of the town. From the High Street take the side street which runs beside the Crown Hotel. The Church lies off the left of this road, as it bends to the right, after about 200 yards.


Rupert Matthews is the author of the book “Haunted Hampshire” which is published by the History Press (ISBN 978-0752448626) and available on Amazon and from all good bookshops. You can find Rupert’s website at www.rupertmatthews.com. He also maintains a blog about the unexplained at www.ghosthunteratlarge.blogspot.com.

The Miser of Braishfield

The following guest article is by Rupert Matthews, author of the book Haunted Hampshire.

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The Miser of Braishfield
By Rupert Matthews

If you haven’t won the National Lottery this week, nor managed to get on Who Wants to be a Millionaire, you could do worse than take yourself down to Braishfield for the day.

It’s not that there are any big prize game shows going on in this charming village. Nor are there any well-paid jobs on offer. But there is a ghost. And this ghost brings with her the promise of great riches. But only if you are brave enough.

A century ago, when King Edward VII sat on the throne, a very rich old woman lived in Braishfield. The scale of her wealth was legendary, as was her meanness. The locals called her “the Miser of Braishfield” and wondered why on earth she did not spend more of her money.

The old woman shuffled about the village in worn and patched old clothes. Her dresses were so old-fashioned that they dated back to when the dead Queen Victoria had been young. She never took out her carriage, although she had one, if she could walk instead. Shoe leather was cheap enough, but if she took out the carriage she might have to pay her oddjob man extra for the work.

And that was another thing. She had no live-in servants, though most people o of a fraction her wealth did so. Instead she hired a local woman to come in twice a week to deal with housework. For any heavy work she had a man from the village who would come in when required.

From time to time both these staff would tell tales about the old woman her money. Sometimes she would sneak into the house carrying a leather bag or small box which had earth and mud stuck to it. Clearly it had just been dug up. The old woman would retire into her parlour and then would come the steady chink-chunk of heavy gold coins being counted out.

Back in the early 20th century gold sovereigns were still in circulation and it was not at all unusual for people to have gold on hand. But nobody has as much gold as the Miser of Braishfield. And it was all divided up in small bags and boxes and buried.

The day came when the old miser died. A nephew came from some miles away to sell the house and contents and to arrange the funeral. But no matter how hard he searched the house nor how thoroughly he dug up the garden, he never found any gold. So he buried his miserly aunt and left

And that was when the ghost began to walk.

On bright afternoons, dull evenings and even late at night the shuffling figure of the Miser of Braishfield was seen moving around the lanes of the village. Sometimes she was seen poking about in hedges, or thrusting her stick into hollow trees. Thinking the ghost was looking for her lost gold, the villagers tried digging where she was seen. But no gold has been found. At least, none that anyone will talk about.

It was a brilliant spring day when I came to Braishfield to look for the miser. The sun shone bright, though there was still a chill nip in the wind that blew down the lanes where the ghostly miser wanders. One passerby knew of the phantom.

“Oh her,” he chuckled when I stopped him. “Yeah, she’s around somewhere. Not that I’ve ever found any gold. But good luck. If you find the treasure you can buy me a drink. I’ll be in the pub having lunch.”

I spent a happy half hour strolling the lanes around Braishfield. It really is a very pretty place and there is a comfortable bench beside the pond where you can rest or a quaint church to look around if you prefer.

But by then I felt it was time for lunch and made his way to the Wheatsheaf near the centre of the straggling village. The landlord, Peter Jones, was most welcoming. And he had news for me.

“You don’t want to waste your time walking around the village,” he said. “We’ve got our own ghost here.” He pointed at a table in the corner of the front bar. “Early in the morning we sometimes see a shape lurking over there. Not sure what it is. Just a shape. And sometimes the table and chairs have been moved overnight as if phantom revellers have been sitting there eating or drinking.”

And well they might for the pub offers some tempting dishes. I treated himself to a sirloin steak stuffed with stilton and served with chips. But he had to pay with boring modern notes for he had found no gold coins belonging to the Miser of Braishfield. But you might have more luck.

Braishfield lies west of Winchester. Take the A3090 from Winchester towards Romsey. You can leave this road at Standon and follow the lanes to Braishfield, if you know the way. It is less confusing to stay on the A3090 until you are almost in Romsey,w hen a road to the right is signposted “Braishfield”. Follow this road for about 2 miles and you pass the sign advising you that you are entering the village. Braishfield is a spread-out straggling village, but you soon find the Wheatsheaf on your right. The pub has a convenient car park from which you can walk around the village to find the pond and the church.


Rupert Matthews is the author of the book “Haunted Hampshire” which is published by the History Press (ISBN 978-0752448626) and available on Amazon and from all good bookshops. You can find Rupert’s website at www.rupertmatthews.com. He also maintains a blog about the unexplained at www.ghosthunteratlarge.blogspot.com.

Bridport Museum

The following guest article is by Rupert Matthews, author of the book Poltergeists.

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Bridport Museum
By Rupert Matthews

I have heard a lot of stories about haunted museums, curses in museums (usually related to Egyptian objects) and so forth. Let's face it, museums can be spooky places with all that old stuff sitting around, and after they close they can be double spooking. The only first hand experience I have had concerned the Bridport Museum in South Street, Bridport. Here is what my report said about it:

"Considerably more welcoming is the genial old gent who haunts what is now Bridport Museum in South Street. The building is more than four centuries old, having been built as a coaching inn but later doing service as a bank, a club and a private house. It is the owner of the building from Edwardian times, one Captain Albert Codd, who haunts the place. He is seen dressed in what was his favourite smoking jacket of bright yellow hue and black trousers. Captain Codd loved his house, and left it to the town council to serve as a museum. He is presumably happy with the results for his ghost seems to be most at ease and relaxed. In 2006 he appeared to a member of staff in January. The old boy smiled gently, then turned and walked around a corner to vanish completely.

"The museum may also have a haunted fireplace. The chimney from the grand fireplace in the main room on the ground floor is blocked off and no fire is ever lit there, the building having efficient central heating. Despite this visitors sometimes see a fire blazing merrily in the grate and sometimes a young lady in Victorian costume warming herself by the flames.

"In 2005 the museum acquired a new and rather sinister exhibit in the form of a haunted dress. The beautiful 17th century gown was left to the museum and is undoubtedly a fine example of the work of local seamstresses. However it also attracts a young lady ghost who walks about the vicinity of wherever the dress is at the time. She seems to be rather protective of the garment, as if it holds some special memories for her. She is no real bother, except for the fact that she appears with startling regularity. No wonder the dress was bequeathed to the museum."

The member of staff did not want their name in print, so I left it out. She was actually the receptionist and was very informative. The sighting took place at 8.40am one morning when she was getting the reception desk ready for the museum to open to the public at 9am. She was pottering about tidying up the postcard display when she saw somebody enter the reception area from the door leading to the staircase. There were a couple of other members of staff in the building at the time and she assumed that the new arrival was one of them. She said something, small talk like "chilly this morning, isn't it", then she turned to see who it was. And there was this man she did not recognise. She was very surprised, thinking that a member of the public had got into the museum somehow. She was about to call out for another member of staff when the old man smiled at her and she suddenly thought that he was not threatening and seemed to belong there, not to be a member of the public. Then he turned and walked off. Only after he had gone did she think it might have been the ghost. She called her colleague and asked him what the ghost was supposed to look like - old man, yellow jacket etc - and she realised it had been the ghost.


Rupert Matthews is the author of the book "Poltergeists" which is available on Amazon and from all good bookshops. You can find Rupert’s website at www.rupertmatthews.com. He also maintains a blog about the unexplained at www.ghosthunteratlarge.blogspot.com.

Paranormal Dichotomy - Richard's Room 101

The sheer mountain of eyewitness testimony, photographs, and audio recordings, not to mention film and video evidence should be ample enough to show that the pantheon of phenomena popularly described as "ghosts" or "apparitions" exist. That's NOT to say any of this accumulating evidence approaches anything near scientific proof or verification of the paranormal. The fact that, by definition, paranormal activity falls outside the normal realm of scientific understanding and can't be repeated within a laboratory setting has left many researchers believing we'll probably never have irrefutable proof.

However, few investigators would argue that the phenomena continues, nonetheless, and is all too real for a wide spectrum of witnesses that come from all walks of life. Which raises two important questions: if paranormal activity really does exist, what does it represent and how might the answer, or answers, affect our collective understanding of the universe and ourselves?

Other than hallucinations caused by ultrasound, sleep paralysis and similarly mundane explanations, parapsychologists and other paranormal investigators basically subscribe to three main schools of thought on the matter. The first, and most obvious, of course, being that "ghosts" are exactly what psychic mediums and other sensitives have always claimed they are: the spirits of the deceased or whatever it is that survives of the human consciousness after bodily death.

It is the second and third alternatives that seem to be the preferences of most contemporary parapsychologists. That is that paranormal phenomena such as "ghosts" are either some kind of 3D psychic recording / temporal replay or alternatively, the manifestation of the latent telekinetic powers of the human mind. When I interviewed Richard Holland editor of Paranormal Magazine the author/investigator, himself a witness to poltergeist activity, he speculated about a possible fourth alternative.

"When I was at university I read about bacteriophages, viruses so primitive that they can barely be called life at all. They attach themselves to bacteria and pump in their RNA. The rest of it, a protein shell, drifts away. The RNA recodes the bacterial DNA and – lo! – two viruses where once there was one bacterium. It made me wonder about a primitive consciousness, scarcely a mind at all, just a mass of electrical discharges that floats about and like the phage can only exist in any real form by latching onto a human mind … Perhaps similar twilight entities answer our subconscious needs according to our current superstitious beliefs – become fairies when we believe in fairies, then aliens when we believe in aliens. Perhaps they created some crop circles, too. More recently, I've been getting interested in the Islamic concept of the Jinn, incorporeal spirits created out of 'smokeless fire' at the same time as Man, and living alongside us. That comes quite close to what I've been groping at."

The danger, of course, when discussing "ghosts," just as with UFOs and pretty much any Fortean-type mystery, is that people want a single definitive answer. The classic example being that UFOs are either "nuts and bolts" spacecraft from Zeta Reticuli or they're extra-dimensional vehicles. And, as alluded to, a similar dichotomy seems to be entrenched in the paranormal field. It might be a bit of an overgeneralization, but generally speaking "ghosts" are either seen as evidence of survival after death or else, they're interpreted as being some form of alternative psychic phenomena we currently don't understand as the parapsychologists would suggest. The problem being, why does it have to be one or the other: why can't it be both or as conspiracy author Jim Marrs likes to say: "all of the above" or even something else entirely?

Traditional style hauntings, poltergeist activity, stories of possession and timeslips: there is certainly no shortage of paranormal phenomena to choose from, however, perhaps none defy this paranormal dichotomy better than the "crisis ghost phenomenon."

Crisis ghosts are different from other apparitions in that they appear to be person rather than location-based. They typically involve close friends or family members of witnesses appearing at a time of crisis, usually just before or after the person appearing dies. So common is the phenomenon that there is actually a case within my own family we can discuss.

I won't bore readers with all of the details but basically, years ago, while on holiday in Tenerife, my father had a strange dream involving several deceased relatives "all dressed in white" and a close childhood friend he hadn't seen in about "two and a half years." According to my father, the white figures in the dream told him that "they were all alright and not to worry." After waking up, my dad assumed it was just a strange dream and got on with enjoying his holiday. On returning to the UK, though, he discovered, to his shock, that the friend in the dream had, unbeknownst to him, been ill for some time and had died while he was away.

Had the spirits of the departed somehow invaded my father's subconscious that night in Tenerife, or alternately, had my father somehow psychically picked up on his friend's passing or imminent passing and this is how his subconscious mind dealt with it? Either explanation can be made to fit.

Stranger still, though, are the crisis ghost cases that take place while the witness (or witnesses) are wide and awake. For instance, there are many cases from the two world wars of soldiers returning home only to suddenly vanish or walk through a wall. News of their death arriving not long afterwards.

A classic example of this was featured in a memorable episode of Ghosthunters (the UK 1990s documentary series) focusing on the alleged ghostly happenings at Ireland's Castle Leslie. In the documentary, we're told that "Uncle Norman" Leslie was seen by the old gamekeeper and others "walking the gardens" when last they heard he was in France fighting in the 1914 war. Thinking the army captain must have gotten unexpected leave, the servants rushed to get a meal prepared for the returning war hero. Strangely, though, he never turned up. Not long later, however, (within a week) the family learned the truth. "Uncle Norman" had died attacking a German machine gun post.

When you consider the wide spectrum of crisis experiences (some awake, some asleep, some alone, some with others etc) is it really likely that every case has the same explanation, or, is it more reasonable to think that some might be traditional "spirits" and some might be evidence for something else? Ultimately, though, as is the case with all Fortean or esoteric-type topics, it comes down to a matter of personal belief.

READ RICHARD'S ROOM 101 COLUMN FOR BINNALL OF AMERICA

The Stone Tape Theory - Richard's Room 101

This fortnight we're concluding our loose "pure paranormal" trilogy. In parts one and two we took a look at the time-slip experience and poltergeist phenomena, respectively. So, this time around, we're finally wrapping things up here with a short piece on what many people in paranormal circles often refer to as the "Stone Tape" theory.

   

For people who didn't read my Nigel Kneale piece just short of a year ago, the "Stone Tape" theory originates from a 1972 television play of the same name by the iconic sci-fi writer. Combining science fiction with the ghost story genre, in the BBC Christmas special a group of scientists investigate a supposed haunting in the hope of discovering a brand new recording medium. Their theory is that somehow limestone (and perhaps other materials) can retain moments of the past. That perhaps human memories or experiences (particularly ones involving intense emotions like the last moments before death) can be someway psychically recorded in the stonework of buildings.

  

The idea, of course, is that later someone psychic or sensitive enough could act as a kind of psychic video player. Hence the title of Kneale's original play "The Stone Tape."

  

As a credit to Nigel Kneale's genius as a writer, despite making its début in a fictional setting, his idea proved very popular with many of the more scientifically inclined paranormal researchers. Finally offering them a real, and perhaps almost equally engaging, alternative to the standard "life after death" explanation of the traditionalists. What's more, if true, the "Stone Tape" theory might also go some way to explaining some of the problems and inconsistencies often associated with paranormal encounters. 

  

For instance, why do people always seem to report "ghosts" from only a few centuries ago? Why never from pre-history?

  

Perhaps the answer to this peculiarity might be that, much like domestic VHS videotape, "Stone Tape" recordings have a limited lifespan too. Steadily degenerating over the ages until they are completely erased and forgotten forever.

  

This explanation might also provide the answer to another popular problem in the paranormal. Why is it that some people see full-blown solid apparitions whereas others only see transparent figures, shadows or, worse, nothing at all? Again like a conventional video tape perhaps the older a "Stone Tape" recording gets the more the sound and picture quality suffers.

  

Alternatively, of course, perhaps a better explanation opened up by the theory might be that some people may simply make better psychic video players than others. Maybe an important point to make here is that according to the theory, the "ghost" or recording is seen (perhaps "played" might be a better term) inside the mind rather than in the outside physical universe. Therefore, depending on the sensitivity of the witnesses, it's quite possible that several people might experience the same encounter very differently.

  

The idea that "ghosts" might really be some kind of psychic tape recording rather than the spirits of the dead might not be desirable to some die-hard researchers who believe "ghosts" offer us proof of life after death. (Though the two ideas are not mutually exclusive, it's possible that there could be more than one type of "ghost" each representing something very different.) However, if ever proven the theory would raise perhaps almost equally important questions about the true nature of consciousness and the human mind.

  

Think about it. The only way such a recording could be made and replayed would be if there was some kind of direct connection between the human mind and stone. It would have to be some form of telepathy between two "minds" (for lack of a better word) suggesting that inanimate matter might have some form of highly primitive consciousness or awareness. It is an exciting idea, be it somewhat crazy. However, as Richard Holland (editor of Paranormal magazine) noted in our interview last month the "Stone Tape" theory is still a very long way from being proven.

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A Room 101 Interview With Richard Holland

This fortnight I've been lucky enough to get a special text interview with Richard Holland, editor of Paranormal magazine and author of Haunted Wales. Continuing our loose "pure paranormal" trilogy we're going to be discussing poltergeist phenomena and what might be the cause of such activity. (You can read my piece on the timeslip experience here.)

 

Richard Thomas: First things first. Thank you very much for agreeing to do this, I'm sure you're always busy with the magazine so the whole BoA team really appreciate you taking the time to do this interview. I'm sure our readers will enjoy it too. 

   

From reading Paranormal magazine, I understand you had a childhood encounter with a poltergeist yourself. What sort of things happened and how did you deal with it?

  

Richard Holland: As poltergeists go, I guess it was fairly tame in that it almost entirely limited itself to audio effects, most particularly a tapping on the wall above my bed which I found very unnerving, even threatening. I think the worst thing about it was this atmosphere that would build up at night before it manifested. One night it groaned at me out of a darker patch in the dark above my brother's bed. That was horrible. But it would also do things like mimic people walking around upstairs when there was no one there – this on sunny afternoons. On one occasion it mimicked the sounds of my brother's footsteps running towards where I was kneeling down by a bed where I had a board game laid out, and it kind of knocked me over. That is to say, I found myself lying on my back, but I was placed gently on the floor and felt no hands touching me. That was the most dramatic thing. You ask me how I dealt with it, but I didn't really. It came in two waves and then just went away for good.

  

Richard Thomas: Do you think this sparked your interest in the paranormal or do the origins of your interest lie elsewhere? I know that, like me, you're a big Doctor Who and Hammer Horror fan, do you think that might have played a large part too? 

  

Richard Holland: It obviously helped spark my interest in the paranormal, although it's also left me with a nervousness of the subject, too! I was never tempted to carry out vigils in 'haunted houses', partly because I knew my imagination might run away with me and partly because I believe that I might be asking for trouble – inviting something unwanted, if you know what I mean.

  

But I suspect I'd have been interested in the supernatural anyway, because I've always loved monsters and weirdness – ours was very much a Dr Who family back in the 60s/70s and I already loved dinosaurs at a time when it wasn't as obvious a thing for small boys to be into as it is now. When I was 5 my dentist asked me: 'And what do you want to be when you grow up?' Expecting 'fireman' or something. 'A paleontologist', I promptly told him.

  

Richard Thomas: Looking back on it now, I think my own interest in these subjects lie in three things really: my interest in Sci-Fi, my own personal little brushes with the paranormal, and, last but not least, my father's interest in Graham Hancock's theories and other esoteric type subjects. Were any of your parents or other family interested in the paranormal at all when you were growing up? 

  

Richard Holland: No, my parents weren't interested in the supernatural at all. My father read a lot of good quality sci-fi but he was one of those blokes who, instead of learning from it that all things are possible, used it as a prop to his untrained wannabe scientific outlook. He was a member of the Humanist Association and a big fan of Carl Sagan et al. He'd hate what I'm doing now for a living. My mum is much more open-minded about such things and recalls seeing a white lady glowing a vivid white sitting on the end of her bed when she was a child in the Blitz. She doesn't think of it as an 'angel' either – it terrified her!

  

Richard Thomas: Back to the subject of poltergeists, there seems to be two main schools of thought on what might be responsible for such phenomena. The first, of course, is that we are really dealing with the spirits of the dead, and the second (and probably far more interesting) is that we could be dealing with the psychic abilities of the living. Personally, I think it could very well be both, but what are your thoughts on the subject? (You might want to expand on what the different schools of thought are and include some examples of cases in your answer.) Richard Holland: I'm not sure – well, who is? But the feeling of a presence has stayed with me, that there was something trying to get at me in some unidentifiable way. I'm not sold on the 'wild talents' concept entirely for that reason. Nor does a lot of poltergeist behaviour tally with a conscious, reasoning spirit – why spread marmalade down the bannisters or lay flowerpots out in a line on the kitchen floor like the Pontefract polt did? When I was at university I read about bacteriophages, viruses so primitive that they can barely be called life at all. They attach themselves to bacteria and pump in their RNA. The rest of it, a protein shell, drifts away. The RNA recodes the bacterial DNA and – lo! – two viruses where once there was one bacterium. 

  

It made me wonder about a primitive consciousness, scarcely a mind at all, just a mass of electrical discharges that floats about and like the phage can only exist in any real form by latching onto a human mind. Perhaps puberty makes our brains susceptible to such encroaches. Perhaps similar twilight entities answer our subconscious needs according to our current superstitious beliefs – become fairies when we believe in fairies, then aliens when we believe in aliens. Perhaps they created some crop circles, too. More recently, I've been getting interested in the Islamic concept of the Jinn, incorporeal spirits created out of 'smokeless fire' at the same time as Man, and living alongside us. That comes quite close to what I've been groping at.

  

Richard Thomas: Anyone interested in "ghosts" and the like should have heard of the famous Enfield Poltergeist. What are your thoughts on that case and as a writer/researcher from Wales do you think there is a Welsh equivalent? If not maybe you could share some of the more compelling Welsh ghost stories you've heard of or researched. 

 

Richard Holland: I don't think I really have anything to add to the Enfield story. It seems like a genuine one to me. I remember the story appearing as it happened in the Daily Mirror about the time I had my polt. The 'dirty old man' who spoke through one of the girls might have been an example of the Jinn-type thing I was chuntering about above. Part It, part Her. I'm sure in another culture, priests/wise women/ village elders or whoever would have got rid of the bugger with a couple of rituals. In ours, though, that family had to suffer months of indignities and fear. There isn't really a Welsh equivalent but I was pleased to find a first-hand account of a poltergeist outbreak preserved in a letter dated 1812 in the Flintshire Records Office. The St Asaph farmer who was suffering from it wrote to his landlord about it. 'That night it was so terrible that the women left the house and went to a neighbour's house and it threw stones, bricks and the like that they had no quiet to milk by throwing dung up on them' etc etc. Great stuff. 

  

Richard Thomas: It was probably nothing, but I've seen objects fly through the air seemingly without explanation. Also, recently my dad told me that a woman from where he works thinks she has a poltergeist. How common do you think poltergeist-type phenomena might really be? 

  

Richard Holland: Much more common than people realise. After all, I didn't tell my family about what was happening to me, although one or two people, like my younger brother who shared a room with me, experienced it, too. But it took me a long time to tell my parents. I wonder how many other frightened kids there are who just don't talk about it. Also, I'm sure a lot of the 'just one of those things' experiences people have regularly are related phenomena. Putting something down then being unable to find it moments later, only for it to turn up exactly where you thought it was and had checked and checked and checked… That sort of thing. The Missing Biro Phenomenon. 'Eerie Indiana' had an episode about it, I seem to remember.

  

Richard Thomas: Whatever people might believe, there is no doubting the very real fear this type of phenomena can cause. What is your advice to people who think they are living in a house with a poltergeist?

  

Richard Holland: Talk about it! Let it become part of family life and try not to be scared of it. Laugh at it good-humouredly. Shout at it if it does something really irritating or frightening. That seems to help defuse them. There's certainly no point getting in a priest/exorcist and most mediums should probably be avoided. You never know, a nice quite person from your local Spiritualist Church might be some good, but it's a risk – things often get worse. Alas, there are no experts. Richard Thomas: This interview will be the second piece in a loose paranormal trilogy I've been working on. My first instalment in the trilogy was on the timeslip phenomenon and the last will be on what is called the "stone tape" theory. Do you have any opinions or thoughts about these two genres of esoterica? 

  

Richard Holland: 'Time slip' is a very loaded phrase, isn't it? I suspect a lot of time slips might be ghosts of what people have previously seen and otherwise experienced rather than someone falling through the 'timey-wimey things' of Stephen Moffat's Dr Who. It might fairly be suggested that many apparitions are ghosts not of the person himself per se, but the ghost of what someone else has seen. This might explain the dramatic appearances of some ghosts – they are not that former person playing out an emotive incident or the moment of their death, it's the witness to it who has created the ghost through their shock at seeing the incident. This wouldn't perhaps explain the detailed ladies of Versailles walking about for ages type experience – although they might just have got caught in a groove of someone else's previous existence for a while.

  

As for the 'Stone Tape': it's a very engaging idea but with no science as yet to back it up (not that anyone's really tried, of course). But we don't necessarily need stone – whatever happened to Ether? I can accept Ether as an abstract concept – some form of energy/interdimensional glue we have no knowledge of as yet (like electricity, magnetism, radioactivity and radio waves in their day – all around us but unperceived till science caught up). Perhaps it's dark matter? A psychic material on which impressions of personalities and/or emotions can be imprinted or fossilised in, and which our brains can connect to for reasons we simply don't understand – if reasons there are. Much of it might be totally random, like so many ghosts – an old horse and cart manifesting briefly, or somebody pottering about an old ruin with their legs disappearing into the ground – innocuous and meaningless. 

  

Richard Thomas: Tell people about your books and how to get the excellent Paranormal magazine. 

  

Richard Holland: Well, I've written five books on Welsh folklore/ghostlore. These are mainly 'stocking fillers', not great scholarship to be honest, just a collection of yarns culled from various sources, including correspondence through various newspaper columns I've written over the years. I did work very hard on 'Haunted Wales' (Landmark, 2005), though, and I'm not showing off when I say it's the best book on Welsh ghost-lore in print. I delved into lots and lots of old and obscure sources to write that, finding trends and then putting the whole lot into a gazetteer so that people could read the ghostly folk stories from their region, many of which hadn't seen print for up to 200 years. I also researched Welsh fairy lore and witchcraft in depth but decided the work to put that into book form wasn't worth the reward. Maybe when I'm retired. In the meantime, I have my blog site and Paranormal Magazine to keep me busy. Paranormal is devoted to the whole gamut of the supernatural, mainly ghosts but including UFOs, cryptozoology, magic, ESP and the rest. It's all about phenomena – no mediums or New Age stuff. Regular writers include Nick Redfern, Karl Shuker, Janet Bord, Nigel Watson and the guys from the CFZ, and this month I added Brad Steiger and Colin Wilson to the roster. 

  

I'm very proud to be involved with such excellent people and also to chat to new writers (new to me, that is) like Jimmy Lee Shreeve and Mark Greener. Visit us on www.paranormalmagazine.co.uk – if you want to buy one online to try it out, you'll be glad to know postage is free in the UK, so it costs no more than buying it in the shops.

 

Richard Thomas: Thanks mate. Hope we can do this again sometime, maybe a Sci-Fi Worlds interview where we could talk about Hammer Horror, Doctor Who and other cult Sci-Fi.

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Timeslip: Is Time Travel Possible? - Richard's Room 101

Recently, my old interest in 'ghosts' and what might best be described as the "pure paranormal" has been somewhat reawakened by watching the complete series of Ghost Hunters on DVD. I'm referring to the excellent British scientific documentary series from the mid-1990s, of course. Not the terrible (but undoubtedly far more successful) American reality TV show of the same name.

In hindsight, it was probably over-the-top melodramas like the American Ghost Hunters and its many British counterparts (full of people just screaming in the dark) that put my hitherto strong interest in the grip of a sleeper hold in the first place. Anyway, while my rekindled interest in 'ghosts' and the like lasts, I thought it might be a good idea to write up some paranormal-type pieces for Room 101. So, this fortnight (in what might become the first in a paranormal trilogy of articles) we're going to examine probably the strangest, but no doubt also most absorbing of paranormal happenings ... the "timeslip" or time travel experience.

  

Put simply a "timeslip" is an alleged paranormal phenomenon in which a person, or even group of people, seem to somehow travel through time via apparently supernatural (as opposed to technological) means. Now, admittedly, the whole notion sounds like it was ripped straight from the pages of a Doctor Who script. Time travel, naturally, has been a staple of science fiction and fantasy ever since H G Wells wrote the Time Machine. 

  

Before we dismiss the possibility out of hand, though, perhaps it's worth remembering that a wide range of highly prestigious theoretical physicists and other scientists (both past and present) have gone on record with some very strange ideas about the true nature and behaviour of the fourth dimension. 

  

It was no less than Albert Einstein, remember, who first laid down the foundation for the theoretical possibility of time travel with his famous "special theory of relativity." One of the very strange (but now proven) consequences of special relativity is that time slows down as you approach the speed of light, stopping completely for anything able to travel at light speed. Which, of course, logically implies that time might conceivably run backwards if you were somehow able to travel faster than light. 

  

Further, the theory that time could run in reverse might sound ridiculous but that's exactly what Steven Hawking suggests might be the fate of us all in his excellent book A Brief History of Time. In the bestseller, the "smartest man alive" not only speculates that our expanding Universe might eventually begin contracting but, further, that if this "Big Crunch" ever really does take place it's perfectly possible that time might start reversing too. Strange as it sounds, we might all one day be forced to live our lives again. Only this time backwards! 

  

Back to the timeslip phenomenon. There is no question that some of mankind's greatest intellects have taken the theoretical possibility of time travel very seriously. However, as discussed, only in the most extreme circumstances imaginable. Such as travelling at superluminal velocities or the Universe imploding. But what about in our daily lives? Is it possible to go around a strange corner and walk into another time and place? 

  

Amazingly, there are many accounts of sane and credible people who believe this is precisely what has happened to them. One of the most well-publicised cases, in Britain at least, is that of the Simpsons and the Gisbys. 

  

The 1979 incident featured prominently in a memorable episode of the ITV television series Strange But True? In the programme (now being regularly shown in the UK on the Paranormal Channel) the two English couples described how while travelling through France en route to a holiday in Spain they stayed the night at a strangely antiquated hotel. Bedding in somewhat basic rooms they were a little unnerved to discover no glass in any of the building's windows, only wooden shutters that closed from the outside. 

  

It wasn't just the building though, all the people they met (everyone from police officers to locals) seemed strangely old fashioned too. Dressing almost as if they had just stepped out of the 19th century. In fact, everything even the knives and forks everybody ate with seemed outdated. Not being able to speak much French, the English couples couldn't ask about it.

  

Putting all the strange anachronisms down to simply being in rural France and impressed by the mere 18 francs their stay had cost them, the four decided to look for the same hotel again on their return journey. However, this time, despite searching for several hours, they were unable to find it again. What's more, when they returned home they were puzzled when all the photos they had taken there turned out blank. As if the hotel and its inhabitants had somehow simply vanished, disappearing even from their film negatives. 

  

If Simpsons and the Gisbys really did, as it seems, travel back in time about a hundred years or so though: why did their hosts accept 1970s-style currency? Assuming the foursome didn't just invent their story (though why would they?) it would seem to suggest there could be a lot more to this type of experience than one might first imagine. 

  

Any serious student of the paranormal, of course, could come up with a whole range of incredible suggestions. Perhaps we're dealing with god-like Tricksters playing games with mortal men for their own childish amusement? However, before we begin to speculate perhaps it would be wise to briefly consider another well-known case first. There are plenty to choose from but easily the most credible involved no less than the great philosopher and psychiatrist Carl Jung. According to the famous thinker, while travelling through Italy in the 1930s he visited the tomb of a Roman Empress in Ravenna. Impressed with the remarkable beauty of the mosaics depicting maritime scenes in an eerily pale blue light, he discussed them with his companion for about half an hour and, on leaving the mausoleum, even tried to purchase postcards of them. Surprisingly though there weren't any.

  

Sometime later, Jung asked a friend visiting Ravenna if he could obtain pictures for him. It was only after seeing them that he finally learned the truth. The mosaics he had seen and discussed in great detail were totally different to the mosaics now decorating the mausoleum. However, they did exist once but had been destroyed in a fire some 700 years previously. 

  

So what is going on? Jung was personally convinced that his consciousness had somehow travelled back in time to when the mausoleum had been first constructed, 1400 years prior to his visit to Ravenna. As discussed earlier, time travel is thought by scientists to only be possible in the most extreme of circumstances. However, what if the laws that govern nature are different to the laws that govern the mind? If so, then maybe it would be possible for consciousness (free of the limitations of the laws of physics) to travel through time much more easily. 

  

Further, many timeslip witnesses report strange bouts of depression or unease just prior to or at the start of their experience. Perhaps this indicates that the mind is indeed involved in some key way. The theory would definitely explain why the Simpsons and the Gisbys weren't able to get any photographs. Which brings us back to the question of why their French hosts didn't make a fuss about their modern money? Maybe they simply saw money from their own era. Unless scientists someday break the light barrier or maybe even develop a "science of the mind" though, it's impossible to ever know.

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