Supposedly, even when the building was demolished and re-built, the spirit would not leave that spot. Many have claimed they can still see a pale face in a window corner.
Or hear a crying through the walls. The families who have lived there throughout the centuries had to put up with restless moanings of lost spirits. Or is it just wind echoing through the old, stone structure of the hall?
Get yourself on Help! If you do, it will attach itself to you and pursue you to the ends of the earth until it captures you. Barnes Hospital, a stunning Grade II listed building in Cheadle once named the creepiest abandoned place in Britain, has now been transformed into flats — though you might not be the only thing that lives there….
Built in the s by Robert Barnes, the hospital was designed to help the then thousands of factory workers in Manchester who worked and lived in dangerous and filthy environments. Of course, many people died within its four walls and, with a graveyard just around the corner, many of the poor souls who perished are said to lurk around today.
One individual reported that he saw a nurse, clear as day, doing her rounds of the patients. Only there were no patients, no beds and the tune she was whispering echoed deafeningly around the entire building. The Bate Hall — a pub less than an hour away from Manchester — has been crowned the third most haunted place in the whole of the UK.
The landlords say The Bate Hall is overrun with ghosts, including a spirit called Richard who has even threatened to kill the landlord. The list is measured on the longevity of haunting, the number of reports, type of activity and the credibility of the witnesses.
On the abandoned upper floor, strange markings are said to appear on the walls before vanishing again. The pub has a rich history which dates all the way back to , and even Oliver Cromwell has stayed as a guest. Since taking over the pub in , Sean and his wife Georgia called Wythenshawe Paranormal Investigation to take a look after one too many ghostly apparitions. I was shocked to hear so many voices.
The Facebook Live sees Sean taunting and swearing at the spirit during a scary vigil at the pub led by medium James Higgins. Sean claims the historic pub has 21 different ghosts who live there due to its location where laylines cross and the towns gallows were. Connect with us. Share Tweet. This unexpected feat repressed the noisy burst of applause which might have been the result of a less wonderful device.
Every one looked anxiously and uneasily at his neighbour, and at the renowned Doctor Aboulfahrez, not feeling comfortable, perhaps, or even safe, in the presence of so exalted a personage. But new wonders were at hand. The mysterious visitor uttered some cabalistic words, and lo! The lid flew open by a secret spring, and a peacock of surprising beauty and glittering plumage rose out of the box, imitating the motions of the real bird to admiration. The mimic thing, being placed on the floor, flapped its wings, and unfolded its tail with all the pride and precision of the original.
Not a guest was missing. Even those most pleasantly occupied at the tables left their sack and canary, their spices and confections. The musicians, too, and the menials, seemed to have forgotten their several duties, and stood gaping and marvelling at the show. Suddenly there flew open a little door in the breast of the automaton bird, and out jumped a fair white pigeon, which, after having performed many surprising feats, in its turn became the parent of another progeny—to wit, a beautiful singing bird, or nightingale, which warbled so sweetly, fluttering its wings with all the ecstacy of that divine creature, that the listeners were nearly beside themselves with ravishment and admiration.
The nightingale now opened, and a little humming-bird of most surprising brilliancy hopped forth, and jumping up to the Queen, held out its beak, having a label therein, apparently beseeching her to accept the offering.
She stooped down to receive the billet, which she hastily unfolded. What effect was visible on her countenance we cannot pretend to say, inasmuch as the mask precluded observation; but there was an evident tremor in her frame.
She seemed to be overpowered with surprise, and held out the note as though for the moment incapable of deciding whether to accept it or no. Then with a sudden effort she crumpled it together, and thrust it behind her stomacher. Wonder sat silent and watchful on the face of every beholder. The actors in this strange drama had replaced the automata in the box again, closing its lid. The Moor had made his salaam, the Doctor his obeisance, disappearing behind the screen from which they had so mysteriously come forth.
But at their departure a train of fire followed upon their track, and a lambent flame played curiously upon the wooden crockets for a few seconds, and then disappeared. Now was there a Babel of tongues unloosed, at first by sudden impulses and whispers, then breaking forth by degrees into a loud and continuous din of voices, all at once seeking to satisfy their inquiries touching this strange and unexpected visit. Their host was mightily pestered and besieged with questions and congratulations on the subject, which he has promptly and peremptorily disclaimed, attempting to fix the hatching of the plot upon the astonished bridegroom.
But even he would not father the conceit; and, in the end, it began to be surmised that these were indeed what their appearance betokened, or something worse, which cast a sudden gloom on the whole assembly. Some sallied out of the door to watch, and others blamed the master for not seizing and detaining these emissaries of Satan. Alice was closely questioned as to the communication she had received; but she replied, evasively perhaps, that it was only one of the usual stale conceits appropriate to the masque.
Nothing more was heard or seen of them; and it was now high time they should accompany the bridegroom to his own dwelling at Foxholes—a goodly house situate on a pretty knoll near the town of Rochdale, and about two miles distant from Stubley.
Now was there mustering and hurrying to depart. An unwieldy coach was drawn up, into which the bride and her female attendants were forthwith introduced, the bridegroom and his company going on foot. On arriving at Foxholes, the needful ceremonies were performed. Throwing the stocking, a custom then universally practised, was not omitted; which agreeable ceremony was performed as follows:—. The female friends and relations conducted the bride to her chamber, and the men the bridegroom.
Sitting at the bottom of the bed, the stockings were thrown over their heads. When one of the "hurlers" hit the owner, it was deemed an omen that the party would shortly be married. Meanwhile the posset was got ready, and given to the newly-married couple. It was past midnight, yet Alice sat, solitary and watchful, at her little casement. One fair white arm supported her cheek, and she was gazing listlessly on the silver clouds as they floated in liquid brightness across the full round disc of the moon, then high in the meridian.
Her thoughts were not on the scene she beheld. The mellow sound of the waterfalls, the murmur from the river, came on with the breeze, rising and falling like the deep pathos of some wild and mysterious music.
Memory, that busy enchanter, was at work; and the scenes she had lately witnessed, so full of disquietude and mystery, mingled with the returning tide of past and almost forgotten emotions. We have said that the prevailing bent or bias of her disposition was that of romance; and this idol of the imagination, this love of strange and enervating excitement, had not been repressed by the occurrences of the last few hours; on the contrary, she felt as though some wondrous event was impending—some adventure which she alone should achieve—some power that her own arm should contend with and subdue.
She took the billet from her bosom; the moonlight alone fell upon it; but the words were so indelibly fixed upon her imagination that she fancied she could trace every word on that mystic tablet. If thou hast courage, tarry there a while. Its occupant will protect thee. To visit the beggar in his lair! Shouldest thou reveal but one word of this warning, thy life, and those dear to thee, will be the forfeit.
From thine unknown monitor, "These. The guest in the boggart-chamber was Noman, to whom it had been allotted, and though he told of terrible sights and harrowing disclosures, he seemed to brave them all with unflinching hardihood, and even exulted in their repetition.
To remain an hour or two with such a companion was in itself a sufficiently novel adventure; but that harm could come from such a source scarcely entered her imagination. A feeling of irrepressible curiosity stimulated her, and prevailed over every other consideration. It was not like spending the time alone; this certainly would have been a formidable condition to have annexed. Besides, would it not be a wicked and a wanton thing to shrink from difficulty or danger when the welfare and even life of one so dear as her brother, peradventure, depended on her compliance.
Another feeling, too, more complicated, and a little more selfish it might be, was the hidden cause to which her inclinations might be traced.
Often had she seen, when least expecting it, a stranger, who, in whatsoever place they met, preserved a silence respectful but mysterious. She had seen him in the places of public resort, in the solitary woods, and in the highways; but his reserve and secrecy were unbroken. When she inquired, not an individual knew him; and though his form and features were indelibly traced on her memory, she could never recall them without an effort, which, whether it was attended with more of pain than of pleasure, we will not venture to declare.
Once or twice she had fancied, when awaking in the dead stillness of the night, that an invisible something was near and gazing upon her; but this feeling was soon forgotten, though often revived whenever she was more than usually sensitive or excited. The figure of the Moor was wonderfully similar to the form of the mysterious unknown. But the secret was now, at any rate, to be divulged; and a few hours would put her into possession of the key to unlock this curious cabinet.
So thought Alice, and her own secret chambers of imagery were strangely distempered thereby. Was she beloved by one of a higher order of beings, a denizen of the invisible world, who tracked her every footstep, and hovered about her unseen? She had heard that such things were, and that they held intercourse with some favoured mortals—unlimited duration, and a nature more exalted, subject to no change, being vouchsafed to the chosen ones.
The exploits at Stubley seemed to favour this hypothesis, and Alice fell into a delicious reverie, as we have seen, well prepared for the belief and reception of any stray marvels that might fall out by the way. Looking upon the moat which lay stagnant and unruffled beneath the quiet gaze of the moon, she thought that a living form emerged from the bushes on the opposite bank;—she could not be mistaken, it was her unknown lover.
Breathless she awaited the result; but the shadows again closed around him, and she saw him not again. Bewildered, agitated, and alarmed, the day was springing faintly in the dim east when her eyelids lay heavy in the dew of their repose. Morning was high and far risen in the clear blue atmosphere, but its first and balmy freshness was passed when Alice left her chamber.
The mind was absorbed, restricted to one sole avenue of thought: all other impressions ceased to communicate their impulse. Her brother departed soon afterwards to his morning avocations; but Alice sat in the porch. She looked out on the hills with a vacant, but not unwistful eye. Their slopes were dotted with many a fair white dwelling, but the rigour of cultivation had not extended so far up their barren heathery sides as now; yet many a bright paddock, green amid the dark waste, and the little homestead, the nucleus of some subsequent and valuable inheritance, proclaimed the unceasing toil, the primeval curse, and the sweat of the brow, that was here also.
To enjoy the warmth and freshness of the morning, Alice had removed her spinning-wheel into the porch. Here she was engaged in the primitive and good old fashion of preparing yarn for the wants of the household—an occupation not then perfected into the system to which it is now degraded.
Alice was humming in unison with her wheel, her thoughts more free from the very circumstance that her body was the subject of this mechanical exercise. Turning suddenly, she espied the athletic beggar standing erect, with his staff and satchel, on one side of the porch.
The spoils of my patrimony built this goodly dwelling, and the battle of Marston Moor gave thy brother wherewith to buy the remainder of the inheritance. I was made a beggar by my loyalty, he a rich man by his treason.
Had it not been for thee and another—whose well-being is bound up in thine own—long ago would this goodly heritage have been spoiled; for—revenge is sweeter even than possession; so good-morrow, Mistress Alice. Fear not; thy welfare hangs on that issue! Saying this, with an air of dignity far superior to his usual bluntness and even rudeness of address, he slowly departed. Thoughts crowded, like a honey swarm, to this hive of mystery, nor could she throw off the impression which clung to her.
She had been warned against revealing this communication, but at one time she felt resolved to make her brother acquainted with the whole, and to claim his protection; but then came the warning, or rather threat, of some hidden mischief that must inevitably follow the disclosure.
The beggar she had known for some time in his periodical visits; and though she felt an unaccountable timidity in his presence, yet she certainly was minded to make an experiment of the adventure; but"——And in this happy state of doubt and fluctuation she remained until eventide, when a calm bright moon, as it again rose over the hill, saw Alice at the casement of her own chamber, looking thoughtfully, anxiously, down where the dark surface of the stagnant moat wore a bright star on its bosom.
The scene, the soft and tender influence which it possessed—the hour, soothing and elevating the mind, freed from the harassing and petty cares of existence—to a romantic and imaginative disposition these were all favourable to its effects—the development of that ethereal spirit of our nature, that enchanter whose wand conjures up the busy world within, creating all things according to his own pleasure, and investing them with every attribute at his will.
She felt her fears give way, and her resolution was taken: the die was cast, and she committed herself to the result. What share the handsome, dark, and melancholy-looking stranger had in this decision she did not pause to inquire, nor indeed could she have much if any suspicion of the secret influence he excited.
There was danger, and this danger could only be averted by her interference: what might be curiosity was at any rate her duty; and she, feeling mightily like some devoted heroine, would not shrink from the trial. When once brought to a decision she felt a load taken from her breast; she breathed more freely, and her tread was more vigorous and elastic.
She left her chamber with a lofty mien, and the gentle Alice felt more like the proud mistress of an empire than the inhabitant of a little country dwelling when she re-entered the parlour: yet there was a restless glance from her eye which ever and anon would start aside from visible objects and wander about, apparently without aim or discrimination.
Her brother was busied, happily, with domestic duties, too much engaged to notice any unusual disturbance in her demeanour, and Alice employed her time to little profit until she heard the appointed signal for rest. As they bade the usual "good-night," her heart smote her: she looked on the unconscious, unsuspecting aspect of her brother, and the whole secret of her heart was on her tongue: it did not escape her lips; but the tear stood in her eye; and as she closed the door it sounded like the signal of some long separation—as though the portal had for ever closed upon her.
Wrapped in a dark mantle, with cap and hood, the maiden stepped forth from her little closet about midnight. She bore a silver lamp that waved softly in the night-wind as she went with a noiseless, timid step through the passages to the haunted chamber. The room wherein the beggar slept was somewhat detached from the rest of the dormitories. A low gallery led by a narrow corridor to a flight of some two or three steps into this room, now used for the stowage of lumber.
It was said to have been one of the apartments in the old house, forming a sort of peduncle to the new, not then removed, like a remnant of the shell sticking to the skirts of the new-fledged bird. An ancient doorcase with a grotesque carving disclosed the entrance.
She paused before it, not without a secret apprehension of what might be going on within. For the first time she felt the novelty, not to say imprudence, of her situation, and the unfeminine nature of her exploit. She was just hesitating whether or not to return when she heard the door slowly open; a tall, gaunt, figure looked out, which she immediately recognised to be that of the mendicant.
Somewhat reassured, and her courage strengthened by his appearance, she did not attempt to retreat, but stood silent for a space, and seemingly not a ]little abashed; yet the purity of her motives, as far as known to herself, soon recurred to her aid, and her proud and somewhat haughty spirit immediately roused its energies when she had to cope with difficulty and danger.
Alice entered, and the door was closed and bolted. Her feelings were those of uneasiness, not unmixed with alarm. I am looking for any photographs or impressions of the house that show the rooms. I am looking for anything showing a Grandfather clock. I believe that I am in possession of one of two that were originally made by Butterfield's of Royton for the hall and would love some provenance.
The clock came into the possession of my family many years ago, it was given to my Mother's Godmother's family who were friends of inhabitants of the hall many years ago. Thanks for your comment. The only interior photographs I've seen are post-renovation. If you do discover any, please do let me know! Hi Brian, this is really interesting stuff! Yes, some parts of it seem to have been used as a tenement after the fire. The mill referred to is more likely to have been the separate building, to the left of the hall when you look at the front of the building.
Hi Brian, really interesting thank you! Post a Comment. Clegg Hall. September 19, This article first appeared on the Popular Science website, but was lost when the site was moved.
I'm now reinstating it in a more suitable location. My maternal grandmother, Annie Clegg nee Pickersgill was an enthusiastic story-teller, and I don't doubt the tales she spun for me inspired me to start writing myself.
She was greatly influenced herself by the vicar from her childhood, the Reverend G. Oakley - and was responsible for my reading his melodramatic account of the ghost of Clegg Hall, and for a fascination with the Hall that has stuck with me over the years.
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