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.