Haunted Yorkshire E-Book

Nick Tyler

• Herausgeber: The History Press
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 228

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

Steeped in history and rich in culture, it's little wonder that Yorkshire has a lot to offer in the realm of ghosts and supernatural phenomena. From ghostly hounds on the North Moors to a phantom highwayman in Sheffield, and from the Oxenhope spectre to the spirit of Jenny Gallows at the Flamborough chalk pits, Haunted Yorkshire is packed with uncensored eyewitness reports. Eerie locations, folklore and local history, this is the Yorkshire you don't see by daylight ...

Leseprobe

First published 2019

The History Press

97 St George’s Place, Cheltenham,

Gloucestershire, GL50 3QB

www.thehistorypress.co.uk

© Nick Tyler, 2019

The right of The Author to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the Publishers.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN 978 0 7509 9288 6

Typesetting and origination by The History Press

Printed in Great Britain

eBook converted by Geethik Technologies

Contents

Prologue

1.   NORTH YORKSHIRE

Workhouse Museum, Ripon

Knott Road, Ryedale

Becks Brow, Wigglesworth

York Museum Library

Grape Lane, Whitby

Stonegate, York

Newby Hall, Ripon

The Green Lady, Settle

Kiplin Hall, Richmond

The Phantom Horseman, Hambleton Hills

Janet’s Foss, Malham

Busby’s Chair, Thirsk

2.   SOUTH YORKSHIRE

The Hoober Stand, Wentworth

Gill Lane, Ecclesfield

West Street, Sheffield

Eccleshall Woods

St Nicholas’ Church, High Bradfield

School Hill, Whiston

Hangman Stone Lane, Marr

Loxley Common, Loxley

Low Valley Arms, Wombwell

Nabs Wood, Silkstone Common

3.   GHOSTS

4.   PSYCHIC CONTROVERSY

5.   THE VARIOUS COLOURS OF LADIES

6.   PAREIDOLIA

7.   BLACK DOGS

8.   EAST YORKSHIRE

Annison Funeral Parlour, Hull

All Saints’ Church, Pocklington

Hull Road, Keyingham

St Andrew’s Church, Bainton

Osbourne Street, Hull

Northgate, Cottingham

Saltmarshe Hall, Howden

Coppleflat Lane, Beverley

Milners Row, Skelton

Chalk Pits, Flamborough

St Michael’s Church, Bempton

Burton Agnes Hall, Driffield

9   WEST YORKSHIRE

30 East Drive, Pontefract

Hall Lane, Leeds

Kirkstall Abbey, Leeds

Parlington Woods, Aberford

Steanard Lane, Dewsbury

East Chevin Road, Otley

Black Bull, Haworth

Denby Dale Road, Wakefield

Dark Lane, Oxenhope

St Stephen’s Church, Huddersfield

Kirkgate Railway Station, Leeds

Oak Ridge, Wetherby

Epilogue

Biography

Prologue

For years we have been obsessed with stories of the supernatural – tales of ghostly goings-on and things that go bump in the night. We watch, read and recount terrifying stories of the undead for our excitement and enjoyment, and millions of us claim to have experienced paranormal encounters that we firmly believe to have been real.

We all have an opinion and a firm point of view on the subject. Some claim that the stories offer entertainment but nothing else, that they lack substance and that ghosts simply don’t exist. Others are seasoned paranormal investigators claiming to have hard evidence of the afterlife, but the evidence they offer is rarely black and white and therefore open to interpretation. Then there are the armchair believers, who love nothing more than watching a scary film under a blanket or reading a spooky book with a cup of hot cocoa, but they would never dream of visiting a haunted house or graveyard after dark in search of ghostly apparitions.

There are literally millions of video clips, voice recordings and photographs, all claiming to offer proof of the spirit world, yet each and every one of them is equally as credible as they are ridiculous. Perhaps it’s better that way, for when the paranormal becomes normal, our curiosity dies.

I have studied parapsychology for nearly ten years and after hundreds of investigations, tens of thousands of photographs and video clips claiming to offer hard evidence, hundreds of psychic studies and various experiments, I’m still none the wiser.

It’s reasonable to assume that if the afterlife does exist, Yorkshire would almost certainly be home to numerous ghosts, entities and demons. A county laced with so much history would surely be able to leave an imprint on the fabric of time. From its pioneers of engineering to its gruesome murderous past, the raw emotion that this beautiful county houses would certainly be enough fuel for the spectral fire so to speak.

During this adventure, I have discovered the strange, the bizarre, the unbelievable and the terrifying, all accompanied by a rich and vibrant past. Whether you are a believer, a hardened sceptic or just intrigued as to what could really be lurking in the shadows of Yorkshire, pour the coffee, snuggle under your favourite blanket and read on with an open mind, as I recount some of the tales that were handed to me over the years.

I write not to change your point of view or perspective, but simply to pass on these accounts allowing you to make up your own mind. Enjoy the journey as we delve into Haunted Yorkshire.

1

North Yorkshire

Workhouse Museum, Ripon

Hush-a-bye baby, on a tree top,

when you grow old, your wages will stop.

When you have spent the little money you made,

first to the poorhouse and then to the grave.

The Archway of Tears at Ripon Workhouse. The last view of the outside world for many of the inmates as they entered the final destination.

This chilling rhyme was popular during the nineteenth century, and speaks of the natural lifespan of the poor, often ending in the dreaded workhouses around the country, one of which marks the start of our journey around Yorkshire, Ripon Workhouse Museum.

Whilst researching this book I have visited many beautiful locations around Yorkshire, all with a rich, if not slightly macabre, history. One of my favourite places is the beautiful city of Ripon, located within the picturesque rural roads that guide visitors into the city. This delightful location, with its stunning cathedral, cobbled streets and museums galore, almost transports the mind back to bygone times, but amid its rich history and aesthetically pleasing surroundings, reports of paranormal phenomena are rife, with many believing that the residents of times gone by may still linger, long after their mortal lives upon this earth ended.

The whole city is a haven of both legend and folklore, which is added to by the charming artefacts you can find there, such as an enchanting gravestone that reads, ‘Here lies poor but honest Bryan Tunstall, he was a most expert angler, until Death, envious of his Merit, threw out his line, hook’d him here the 21st day of April 1790.’

This humorous epitaph was written after the angler drowned within the waters that he fished during his life. To this day, people claim that his spirit wanders the embankment nearby, and his ghostly apparition can be spotted fishing by the water’s edge, or reading the comically macabre headstone within the cathedral grounds.

Another paranormal point of interest in Ripon is the Black Swan public house that, in times gone by, had the local blacksmith to its rear. The long-serving landlady, who left in 2017, reported numerous stories of paranormal phenomena within the building, all believed to have been linked to the restless spirit of the blacksmith.

The reason why the old blacksmith is believed to still haunt the Black Swan is unclear, but the numerous reports do make the mind wonder if his soul still lingers in our mortal realm. One guest awoke during the night, screaming uncontrollably and in a clear state of shock. After staff entered the room, the lady claimed to have awoken to see both the blacksmith and his daughter standing by the foot of her bed, watching her whilst she slept.

Another tale tells of a chap on his way to Scotland, who stayed in the Black Swan after visiting friends in Ripon. When he didn’t come down for breakfast, the landlady went to check on him, as he’d stated the previous evening that he needed to be away early the following morning. He was found in bed, claiming to have immense pressure upon his chest and neck that prevented him from rising. He even claimed that he could actually feel hands clasped tightly around his throat, despite no one else being in the locked room at the time.

The absolute epicentre of all the paranormal phenomena around Ripon radiates from the Workhouse Museum, located on the aptly named road, Allhallowgate.

This disturbingly, emotionally charged location, is one of the few remaining workhouses that are almost still complete. The gates at the front, also known as the ‘Archway of Tears’, create the images of depression before one even enters the historic building itself.

To the right are the tramp’s cells, dating back to 1877, where the vagrants could enter for a night or two, providing they had not a penny when searched as they were booked in at the tiny desk. Those found with a penny would be tossed back onto the streets.

They would then have to strip naked, before being given the standard uniform made from coarse, itchy material, followed by a piece of bread or a bowl of gruel for sustenance, whilst their clothes were taken away to be fumigated.

The vagrants were then locked in the tiny tramp cells with only a small bed and a potty, known as a guzunder, because it ‘goes under’ the bed, with only a couple of very thin sheets for warmth in the bitterly cold cells.

The desk at which the vagrants would be booked in and searched prior to their short stay in the workhouse. Those found with a penny would have been tossed back out on the streets.

During the day, they would be expected to work hard with the permanent workhouse residents, assisting in their daily tasks. The rule was simple: if you could stand, you could work, regardless of age or sex, from infants to the elderly.

The permanent residents would suffer the same entry, only they would be taken to the main blocks at the rear of the grounds, men on one side and women on the other. The master’s house in the centre would back onto the dining area, the only part of the building that wasn’t segregated. Mixing with the opposite sex was prohibited, however; men and women would eat at different times, in total silence.

If you went in with your partner, you would be split up, only to see each other on a Sunday if you were lucky enough to. The same went for mothers with children older than just 2 years of age. They would also be given a bath in one of the two tubs with no taps. The water was filled and shared by everyone using them, ensuring the earlier the bath, the cleaner the inmate.

Everyone had a role within the workhouse and they would literally work their fingers to the bone. The women would cook, wash or fumigate clothes with hazardous chemicals, whilst the men would smash bones for fertiliser, rocks for the roads or take part in the tedious work of oakum picking, the process of unpicking old bits of rope so that the threads could be mixed with tar and used for caulking the joints of timber in wooden vessels.

Everything about the workhouses was designed to make them the end of the road, so to speak. They were anything but an easy ride, and designed so that the inmates understood this prior to arrival.

The cart outside the building would be used to transport the bodies of those who died within the workhouse to their pauper’s grave, a tremendously deep hole in the ground that the corpse would be tossed into before the entrance was temporarily covered up. With only a little limestone to aid their eternal resting slumber, upwards of twenty bodies could be laid on top of each other in these disturbingly tragic graves. It would have been a macabre treat when an inmate died, as others would be hand-picked to leave the workhouse for a day and assist in pushing the funeral cart to the burial ground.

The workhouses were places for people with nowhere left to turn: for men who couldn’t provide for their families and had no other option than to have their lives changed forever within the depressive walls.

There was such a stigma attached to them that birth certificates were eventually changed from ‘workhouse’ to an address, in an attempt to stop those unfortunate enough to have been born in these places from being prejudged.

With so many negative emotions attached to places like these, it’s little wonder that the Workhouse Museum in Ripon is allegedly home to a whole host of paranormal phenomena. One apocryphal story tells of Harriett Rodwell, who attended the workhouse in the late nineteenth century. Harriett was tired of the life she was leading and decided to tie one end of a scarf to a door handle whilst the other end acted as her noose as she threw herself down the stairwell to her death.

The staircase was bricked up until recently, but there have always been strange reports of a gurgling sound or a thudding noise emerging from the area over the years. Of course, the idea that Harriett would have chosen to kill herself in such a painful way is questionable, as is the mystery of where she managed to get the scarf from. Whether or not the disembodied noises are hers, they are reported from a wide number of visitors with no prior knowledge of the tale.

Another story tells of George Greenwood’s first wife. George was the master of the workhouse and as such, his wife automatically became the matron and was responsible for the infants and children. As the story goes, the guardians, who were the people responsible for financing the workhouse, visited the matron and were unimpressed at her lack of fortitude.

The matron spoke with friends at a workhouse in Wales and learnt of their ways of disciplining unruly children. From then on, any naughty boys or girls would be taken into the small room behind the classroom, where they would be locked in the large cabinet for an hour or so as punishment.

One day, an insolent 5-year-old boy was locked in the cupboard when the matron received news that her sister was gravely ill in Leeds. Within the hour, she was on the carriage, so concerned for her sister that she had forgotten all about the poor boy who was still locked in the cupboard.

When she returned some three days later, everyone was looking for the boy, believed to be an escapee. The matron was told that the room behind the classroom had been searched, but not the cupboard. The small boy was then discovered, barely alive, before sadly passing soon after. The matron followed suit just five months later when she died during childbirth.

Her ghost is said to wander the old area of the workhouse to this day, wringing her hands and wailing at her part in the death of the poor young boy who was already malnourished prior to being locked away without food or water.

These are just two of the many stories that are whispered around Ripon Workhouse Museum by the staff, the volunteers and unsuspecting visitors. Ghostly shadows seen wandering around the cells, disembodied voices echoing through the rooms and strange footsteps are also seen and heard on a regular basis. There is undoubtedly the feeling of being watched as you navigate through the macabre setting but is there more than just tricks of the mind within Ripon Workhouse Museum?

The original mortuary slab in Ripon’s Workhouse Museum, where any bodies would have been laid out after death. A place where many claim to be able to tune into the negative emotions attached to the building.

Of course, as with all museums, the place is full of trigger objects that can almost transport visitors back to the days in which this was a running workhouse, but does that mean that the ghostly goings-on are simply a case of pareidolia, caused by the suppressed atmosphere of such a sad place? Or are the restless spirits of the Workhouse Museum at Ripon truly haunting the place to this very day?

Knott Road, Ryedale

Located in the North York Moors National Park, Knott Road runs towards Hollins Lane and then further on to Rosedale Abbey. The phenomena on the road itself is often overshadowed by the generic tales of ghostly monks wandering the abbey nearby, but the actual remains are not of an abbey at all. In fact, they are of the Cistercian Priory, the difference between the two being that nuns resided in a priory whilst monks lived in an abbey.

That alone does make the mind wonder if all ghostly tales are simply a mixture of history and folklore that fuse into the apparitions that we hear of today. Whilst the ghostly tales of monks in this area are sure to be stories that have been fabricated over the years, there is another strange phenomenon that is regularly spotted here: a ghostly pack of large dogs that wander the rural lanes from Knott Road to the old Cistercian Priory.

It’s important to differentiate between these beasts and Black Dogs, as they are in fact different phenomena altogether. The iconic Black Dogs are believed to be demonic dogs from hell, said to snatch the souls of sinners before dragging them down to their fiery damnation. Other variations suggest that they can offer protection in the way one would expect a guardian angel to do so. Both aspects are showcased in the Hall Lane tale in the West Yorkshire section.

‘Ghost dogs’ or ‘ghost packs’, on the other hand, are not demonic at all. They are spectral apparitions, often sent to guard a specific location. They are frequently believed to be the afterlife’s version of reincarnation, as the souls of the nuns were transformed into these strange entities to guard the remains of the old priory.

The folklore that surrounds these mysterious beasts is ambiguous at best, but it appears that they rely on fear to warn away people from a certain location and are not actually capable of physically attacking humans.

There are many stories that corroborate this theory, as the ghostly animals regularly snarl, bark and chase unsuspecting travellers, but they have never been reported to get within a biting range, let alone attack a human.

As the legend goes, these animals have guarded the area ever since 1535, when King Henry VIII’s dissolution of monasteries caused the building to be torn down. The little that remains of the old Cistercian Priory is now guarded by the ghostly hounds, preventing further damage being caused.

There have been many sightings of the creatures over the years and they are usually described as Alsatian-type dogs with dark brown hair and eyes and, unlike the Black Dog, their hair is described as being short and they often appear in ghostly form with a vague transparency.

The pack has been spotted around the old priory area on numerous occasions, but they are most commonly seen on Knott Road, which would have led visitors down to the Cistercian Priory in times gone by.

Reports commonly include the pack of around eight to ten beasts, running out in front of cars during the evening, or snarling and barking fiercely at anyone walking or cycling along Knott Road. The ghostly barking of the pack can be heard echoing around the area throughout the night and has often been mistaken for wolves, although there are no wolves roaming the area any more, despite many of the local place names deriving from the packs that would have stalked the forest in times gone by.

As with any woodland road, it is beautiful by day and eerie by night. With that being said, it’s possible that domesticated animals may escape and roam the area whilst following the scents from other animals within the boscage. It would, however, be unlikely to find eight or ten escapees all at the same time.

On the other hand, the sightings could have been of wild animals such as badgers or foxes that, under the cover of darkness, were mistaken for dogs. Could it even be that a simple story of a single animal that was spotted in times gone by became more as the tale was recycled and retold?

Or perhaps, a ‘ghost pack’ really is roaming Knott Road, their ghostly howls warning people against further damage to the old Cistercian Priory and protecting this remarkable piece of English heritage for eternity.

Becks Brow, Wigglesworth

The B6478 between Wigglesworth and Tosside has been the unfortunate location of numerous fatalities over the years. Like so many other similar tales, a combination of speed and driving conditions are often to blame.

Between the heartbreaking fatalities, however, there are tales from people who have crashed upon this stretch of road and lived to tell the tale. Some of these stories, despite only being a small percentage, tell of another possible cause of the accidents on Becks Brow.

It is said that the full-bodied apparition of a White Lady materialises along this stretch of road, particularly on dark and damp nights. She is believed to be the lost soul of Leanne Walker, a 21-year-old who was tragically killed in the late 1970s when her boyfriend lost control of his car on this stretch of road, killing them both instantly.

Since that fateful night, there have been numerous sightings of the White Lady, often walking by the side of the road or standing still on the grass verge and looking around for her boyfriend, almost as though she’s unaware of the sad fate that befell her.

Some motorists claim that the spirit actually runs out across the road in front of their cars, causing them to swerve and lose control themselves. Others say that the mere sight of her was enough to break their concentration in the damp conditions.

I set about searching for any eyewitnesses who could corroborate the tale and stumbled upon Michael Bell. Michael was travelling back to his home in Tosside on the night of his experience. Following suit, he said it was dark and very wet when he encountered the phantom that ended with a trip to the hospital. This is his story:

It was back in April 2011 when I had my accident. It was a really bad night, the rain was literally pouring down and the roads were treacherous. I wasn’t going too fast because of this as I made my way along Becks Brow.

When I got to the bend, I saw what I thought was a woman, standing soggy wet through by the side of the road. I’ve never in my life stopped to pick anyone up but I pulled over that night because of the weather. As I stopped and looked back, she’d gone. I called out for anyone but there was no answer.

After a few moments I put it down to my imagination and carried on driving back towards Tosside. As I drove around the next bend, I saw the lady again. Only this time she wasn’t standing still. She was sprinting along the side of the road. I was so confused that I didn’t even realise how far past the sighting I was and that there was no way it would have been the same woman.

As I slowed down to drive alongside her, suddenly she shot out into the road, right in front of my car. I turned sharply before the car spun out of control. I thank god there were no other motorists on the road at the time. I careered off the lane and into a tree where I stayed for a moment getting my bearings.

Then the excruciating pain in my chest and leg came through, but I was able to grab my phone and call for help. I suffered a broken leg and severe bruising from the seatbelt but other than a few scratches, I was otherwise okay and thankful every day for that.

I never for a second thought I’d seen a ghost but now I’ve heard the story I can’t help but wonder.

Michael’s terrifying account is like something straight out of a horror movie and if true, is the most violent account I’ve encountered given the injuries he sustained, despite them not being directly inflicted by the spirit.

You might argue that his account was little more than his imagination. You could suggest that the medication he received to numb the pain may have been responsible for the memory he’s created. I was so intrigued by the tale that I decided to delve a little deeper into the story and there was one significant factor that I uncovered.

On that night in April 2011, Michael was tested for alcohol as is the standard procedure at all road traffic accidents. His test was positive; he was nearly four times over the legal driving limit. I discussed this with him, but he maintained that he was of perfectly sound mind at the time and the apparition he saw was as he described.

Michael was happy for me to use this tale but asked that his name be changed to protect his identity – interestingly, only after being questioned about the alcohol consumption.

York Museum Library

This strange tale dates back to 1954 and tells of a seemingly haunted book. The publication in question was regularly found on one of the tables as staff arrived for work each morning.

It was said to have been about conspiracy theories and was always open on a different page as though it was being read by an unseen presence. There wasn’t anything remarkable about the volume; it wasn’t overly popular nor a best seller in its day. It was just one of many books within the library that gathered dust until such time that someone was intrigued enough to read it.

The janitor at the library decided to keep watch one evening and stayed through the night, watching the shelf that housed the old book that was moving so often.

At around 4.00 a.m., the janitor claimed to have seen the full-bodied apparition of an elderly gentleman wander through the library to that very shelf. He was said to be dressed in trousers and a knitted green jumper with the collar of his shirt showing the black tie he donned over the V-neck.

As the janitor watched on, the spirit carefully took the book before strolling over to the same table that it was found at each morning. He sat quietly, unaware of the janitor who was keeping watch over the spectre, and read the pages with a hearty smile, thoroughly enjoying each page.

After around an hour or so, the janitor watched on as the elderly gentleman slowly vanished into thin air, right before his eyes, the book being left open on the page he was reading. He wanted to pick the book up but thought it better to wait for the staff to arrive and share the account with them.

Not only did they all believe his spooky tale, but numerous members of staff also claimed to have seen the same apparition wandering the library during the day, although at the time they didn’t know he was a spectral being.

None of the staff kept a look out after that night, but it was said that the thick book was still found every morning on the same table, each time a little further on in pages.

Shortly after the janitor’s account, the book finally reached its end and on 9 October 1954, it was found on the table, closed and rear side up. That was the last time any of the books were disturbed during the dead of night.

This is a wonderfully charming story and it does make the mind wonder: did the elderly gentleman start the book whilst living out his twilight years, the cruel hand of fate ending his mortal time on earth before he could finish the pages?