Transcript: Not in Nottingham

When you look an Atlas the world is entirely comprehensible. Each continent is laid out clearly amongst the blue, but when you begin actually delving into the places and the people the world suddenly becomes almost overwhelming large. Choosing where to begin is a big task to be faced within any situation, but particularly when looking through the large lens of folklore. So, it only seems write to begin at the place you know best - home. And home for me is the city of Nottingham. I’m Alannagh Cooke, and you’re listening to The Folklorist.

Nottingham is situated in the East Midlands of England. A city with a vast history, it’s probably known best across the world for the legend of Robin Hood. The green clad archer and protector of the poor who resides in Sherwood Forest. But this episode will explore the lesser known tales, and I personally believe there’s no better place to start than in a pub. 

The Ye Olde Trip to Jerusalem is an ancient inn. Built into the cliff side in Nottingham city centre it sits below the Castle of Nottingham and claims to be the oldest inn in England, it’s thought to date back as far as the 11th century, which to put that timing into context, the Viking’s had only just left Britain.

Inside it’s not your usual pub, many of the walls are not made of brick and mortar but the stone of the cliff. With overbearing ceilings and walls carved into the rock, the Trip is part building, part cave. So it’s no surprise that a structure this old comes with a fair amount of history. History, many people say, that refuses to stay in the past.

The large majority of the strange occurrences which happen at the pub, are in a section know as the Rock Lounge. If you visit the bar you’ll notice sat above the heads of the bar staff, is an old model tall ship. With intricately built sails and masts, it sits impressively in a glass case and is known as the Galleon. It is the largest of the models hanging above the bar and is thought to have been gifted to the Trip by a sailor who was passing through. But as impressive as it is to look at, the owners of the pub have learnt it’s important, to look but not to touch. There have been many reports of those who cleaned the Galleon suffering unexpected deaths, just weeks after touching the supposedly cursed ship. The last person  to have touched it is a cleaner, who then placed the antique in its glass case, they reportedly died suddenly 2 weeks later. No one has touched it since that day and it now hangs dormant, coated in years’ worth of dust and cobwebs, its presence looming across all who sit in the cave.

The Galleon isn’t the only oddity reported in the Rock Lounge. Keys will regularly disappear and reappear sometime later in unexplainable places, and bottles have been known to fly off the shelves and smash when no one is anywhere near them. Staff have reported hearing the sound of smashing glass but when they’ve entered the bar in search of the destruction, they’ve been unable to find anything which would explain the loud commotion.

In 1994 the pub was taken over by a new landlady named Marilyn. When her and husband arrived they were informed, in no uncertain terms, that The Trip was haunted. Marilyn explained, “We were told that a group of tourists by the cellars said they saw two foot soldiers walk through a wall. This was seen by the whole party, a group of five people.”

Spooked by this the landlady booked for a medium to visit the pub. She was informed that a clock hanging in the bar was possessed by two evil spirits. Coincidentally, both Marilyn’s dog and the dogs owned by the previous landlady all hated that clock and were known to face it and begin howling and barking for no discernible reason. Although Marilyn believes she knows why. She told a reporter from the BBC, “This is an entrance to Mortimer’s Hole and they say animals are very sensitive to atmospheres. Previous landlords have both seen and heard two ghosts, a man and woman. We hear people calling when there's no one there. The woman, wearing what appears to be crinoline skirts is seen walking down the stairs into the cellars."

Mortimer’s hole is perhaps the most famous cave in the whole of Nottingham City Centre. But before I tell you its story, I should explain to you a bit about what is known in Nottingham as the city of caves.

The first reference to the labyrinth beneath Nottingham dates back to the 9th Century, when the area was named Tigguo Cobauc, which is Welsh Anglo-Saxon for “the place of caves”. Historians believe inhabitants have been digging caves there for around 1700 years, and archaeologists are aware of the existence of more than 500 caves. Now, they were able to do this because Nottingham is built on sandstone which is very soft rock and perfect for digging into. So perfect in fact, that there is no other area in the whole of Britain which has more man-made caves than have been found sprawling throughout the underground of Nottingham.

Due to terrible living conditions and poverty, residents of the city were forced to find homes deep within the darkness of the caves. Whole families would live and die, buried beneath the ground in rooms which had such horrific living conditions it caused cholera and tuberculous to rip through the communities. In 1845 authorities ordered that the caves were to be abandoned by all residents, although many people continued living there in secret outside of the city boundaries. The most recent use was during the Second World War, in which hundreds of peoples descended into the caves for safety to escape the air raids. It would be fair to say that the caves of Nottingham are brimming with history, and some of its inhabitants have refused to leave.

Mortimer’s hole is a tunnel which lies beneath the grounds of Nottingham Castle. The eerie passageway contains 300 steps which descend directly through the sandstone into the bar of The Trip. Apparently, it’s not an uncommon occurrence to hear the sound of screaming echoing in the darkness. The tunnel is named after Sir Roger de Mortimer, a noble man in the early 1300s. Mortimer, was the Lord of Wigmoor and trusted friend to the King, Edward II. Although, he wouldn’t be considered the best friend as Mortimer was in fact having an affair with Edward’s wife, Queen Isabella of France.

It’s strongly believed by historians that the two plotted and killed King Edward in 1327. Although this is widely believed to be unprovable there was an extract written by the chronicler Geoffrey le Baker, in which he documents the killing of the king in quite disturbing detail. Baker wrote;

“He was held in a cell above the rotting corpses of animals, in an attempt to kill him indirectly. But Edward was extremely strong, fit and healthy, and survived the treatment, until on the night of 21 September 1327, he was held down and a red-hot poker pushed into his anus through a drenching-horn. His screams could be heard for miles around”.

As a result of the King’s brutal death, Queen Isabella and Roger de Mortimer effectively took the thrown for themselves and began their life together.

However, when news of his father’s death reached Edward III, he set off to avenge him and undisputedly claim his place as King.

The story goes that Mortimer and the Queen were sleeping in their chamber in Nottingham Castle. One of the strongest and most impressive fortresses currently standing in England, they believed themselves to be untouchable behind the castle walls. But the thing they never accounted for? The immense labyrinth which lay beneath them. Led by Edward III, a host of English soldiers stalked their way up through the caves and silently emerged from the tunnel into the couples room. They grabbed Mortimer and dragged him viciously back through the tunnel, the screams of Isabella could be heard following them through the dark passageway as they disappeared into the night.

Roger de Mortimer was later put on trial for the murder of King Edward II and eventually executed for the crime.

To this day there are the reports of a woman’s screams echoing throughout Mortimer’s hole and some people even claim to have seen the spectral image of a woman dressed in white moving silently through the cave. Many people believe these encounters to be Queen Isabella of France, searching the tunnel for the love she never saw again.

For anyone who has ever visited Nottingham, you might have been surprised to hear me refer to Nottingham Castle as an impressive fortress. If you visit the site today, it won’t be a looming castle with turrets and gothic architecture sitting high above the city centre. Instead, you’ll find a museum resembling a stately home. Don’t get me wrong, the building and grounds are brimming with history and exhibitions. But for those looking to find an 11th century castle, you may be disappointed.

Built by the Normans in the 1068, Nottingham Castle began its life as a wooden motted-and-bailey fortress on a site which became known as Castle Rock. Within a few hundred years of its temporary beginning it began to take on the shape of a fully fortified and overbearing structure.

Throughout its years it was occupied by a variety of Kings, each one added their own touches to the castle. From impenetrable towers at the gate house, to four beautiful windmills erected across the gardens.

One of its most infamous residents, was Richard Duke of Gloucester, later to become Richard III. The King many love to hate, and arguably one of Shakespeare’s best villains.

It was in Nottingham Castle that Richard built and carried out many of his nefarious plans to take the throne, and the fortress was termed his “Castle of Care”. Ironically, I would assume.

The first destruction of the castle took place in 1642, when the British Civil War broke out from within the very walls of Nottingham. King Charles I raised his standard from within the castle, effectively declaring war against his own people. However, he quickly discovered he held very little support within the city and fled. During the war the castle was a constant target of attack and when the war came to an end in 1649 the parliamentarians dealt one final blow. The castle governor, John Hutchinson ordered for its demolition in the hope the medieval fortress could never again be used as a military force against its own citizens. And the castle and walls were torn to the ground.

However, it didn’t stay buried for long. In 1663, after the restoration of the monarchy, the castle was purchased by the Duke of Newcastle, William Cavendish. The castle took on a very new and different life. Inspired by the Renaissance styles at the time the Duke built an intricate Italianate palace, one of first of its kind in the UK. But the industrial revolution had begun its course and slums and poverty were rife throughout the city. Not everyone was so impressed by the lavish and gaudy home which sat atop the cliff. For many living in the smog filled streets, it was a blatant and unmissable representation of power and oppression, and they wanted it gone.

In 1831 a bill was being debated in parliament. The bill was designed to extend the vote to the people and hopefully put an end to corrupt voting policies. But when the Duke of Newcastle, owner of the palace, led an aggressive and vehement campaign to squash the bill, the people of Nottingham erupted into furious riots. Ripping through the city, a mob headed directly for the palace. Once inside they destroyed the statues and furnishings before completing the job they were there for. A group made their way to the basement and in there lit a huge fire. Growing from below, the fire engulfed the palace in smoke and devastating flames. The sight could be seen for miles around, a beacon of violent orange and red above the city. The palace was destroyed.

With over 950 years of history, Nottingham Castle is considered one of the most haunted places in the UK. It has recently just re-opened after a thirty million pound upgrade, and I have no doubt the tales told there will only continue to grow. If you visit Nottingham you might see many adverts for ghosts walks, and there’s one thing you can know for certain. They’ll take you to see the ever-present ghost, that is Nottingham Castle.

Death is an inevitable in any large city, although Nottingham certainly boasts its fair share. For one, it was the birthplace of the one of the worst serial killers the country had ever seen. Harold Shipman. The doctor who’s thought to have killed over 250 people and who, I quite recently found out, grew up just around the corner from my current house. But you can’t talk about Nottingham without acknowledging another one of its most famous inhabitants. Lord George Byron, the world-renowned writer. Although this story is actually about his great-uncle, William Byron who became known to those around him as the Wicked-Lord or the Devil Byron.

William Byron was born in 1722 and became the fifth Byron Baron. There have been a whole host of rumours and myths that follow his name, from Satan worshipper to apparently owning a host of crickets which he trained to run up and down his body.  It would be fair to say William was a somewhat eccentric man.

Several accounts tell of his extreme reactions to situations, from laying waste to the family estates after his son disobeyed him, to having shot his coachman. Other stories tell of how the dramatic Lord built two forts and lakes in order to stage mock-naval battles and would shoot real cannons at his staff.

In 1765 William Byron entered into a conflict which truly cemented his title as the Wicked Lord. Byron and his cousin William Chatsworth had been having a conversation when the two began a heated debate over whose estate contained the most game. This argument continued to grow and as the two drank into the night Byron became enraged and grabbing his sword, stabbed his cousin directly through the stomach. Chatsworth’s wound was fatal and he died the following day. After being arrested for the cold-blooded murder, Byron was somehow able to reduce his charge to manslaughter, and in the end only had to pay a small fine and allow his hand to be burned.

After this, Byron retreated to his estate of Newstead Abbey, becoming a recluse and allowing the place to fall into disarray. Although despite this, it didn’t appear that Byron ever regretted violence. It is said that he hung the murder weapon on the wall of Newstead Abbey, perhaps as a warning, or perhaps as a trophy, of the violent Baron’s conquests.

We of course can’t mention the Bryon family without telling a few tales about their ancestral home of Newstead Abbey. A gothic estate nestled in the trees of Sherwood Forest; the impressive structure still stands tall today. You can take a tour through the house or across the grounds and hear tales of the lords and ladies who resided in the Abbey for hundreds of years.

And hear it said, many of them are still there.

Newstead Abbey is supposedly home to five ghosts.

The first of which, oddly enough, are the birds. The Abbey is home to a flock of rooks, which are cousins of the crow. In the 1800s the locals believed that these rooks were inhabited by the spirits of ‘Black Monks’. In fact they believed it so much the birds were never shot or hunted, despite this being very common practice at the time in rural England.

During the early 1800s Newstead was visited by Washington Irving, most well known for being the creator of the ‘Legend of Sleepy Hollow’. He heard the tale of the haunted rooks and was surprised to witness it for himself. In the morning the birds would fly as one to sweep the countryside for food on all but one day, Sunday. According to the locals, the birds always observed the Sabbath.

Being an Abbey, Friars and monks are a common theme and make up two more of its ghosts.

The first is known as the Black Friar. A hooded figure dressed in black has been spotted consistently throughout the years. Often seen wandering the grounds, he is a ghost which never speaks but has been known to interact with those who witness him.

In the 1930s a doctor was on his way to a household in Newstead village to help a woman in labour. His route took him through the grounds of the Abbey. Disorientated in the woods he stumbled across a monk, cloaked in a large black robe who was standing in front of a small waterfall. He asked the hooded man for directions. The monk initially stared silently at the doctor before pointing in the direction of the village.

When the Doctor arrived at the household, they exclaimed he had only just arrived in time. “Where have you been, you’re so late!”

The doctor responded that he would have been much later if he hadn’t been pointed in the right direction by the monk. He was then very surprised to be told there hadn’t been any friars or monks in the Abbey for hundreds of years.

Our third ghost is one linked closely to the Byron family. The Goblin Friar.

Before the Byron family occupied Newstead it was a priory. According to superstition it’s bad luck to convert a religious building for personal or secular use and some believe this is the reason the family suffered generations of ill luck and declining fortune. It also may have been the reason for the appearance of the Goblin Friar.

The Goblin would appear to the head of the Byron family, usually signalling something terrible or unhappy was coming.

The most well documented sighting took place on the night before Lord Byron’s famously troubled marriage to Anne Milbanke. Byron was startled awake by the sudden feeling that something had entered the bed next to him. He sat up and found himself facing a featureless dark mass. Featureless bar one disturbing aspect, this creature had glowing red eyes. Disrupted by the man’s awakening, the creature slipped silently off the bed, disappearing as it hit the floor. I can imagine Byron struggled to fall asleep again that night.

The penultimate ghost is a subtle one. This particular ghost has not actually been seen, but she has been smelled. The Rose Lady occupies one particular spot in a passageway at the bottom of a winding staircase. Visitors of the Abbey have reported on numerous occasions in that there is a very strong scent of lavender and roses in this area.

The Rose Lady was not originally included in the tours of the Newstead, but on one guided tour the whole group passing through that area was suddenly hit with the incredibly strong odour of roses and lavender, much to the surprise of the tour guide. From that day forward the Rose Lady has been included in the tours and it is said her appearances have noticeably reduced ever since.

The final ghost is perhaps the most tragic. The White Lady has been seen wandering the gardens of the estate so often that one route has been named White Lady Walk. The pale spectre who silently moves through the grounds has been spotted both day and night. And if stories are to believed, we know exactly who that figure is.

Sophie Hyatt was a young woman who lived at a nearby farm. She was deaf and apparently loved the work of Lord Byron. At this time the owners of Newstead were the Wilderman family. When they heard of how fond Sophie was of Byron’s work, they kindly allowed her to wander through the grounds whenever she wanted.

She became affectionately known as the Little White Lady of Newstead. Sophie was unable to financially support herself and relied on the support of a relative. But when that relative died in 1852 she found herself without an income. The young woman knew of another relative in America who she could ask for help. Getting her things together she left a note for the Wilderman’s telling them she was leaving, and then she set off, planning to travel into Nottingham to catch a Stagecoach which would take her to London. Upon reading this note Mrs Wilderman dispatched a rider to inform Sophie she was welcome to live on the grounds of Newstead for as long as she wanted. They had grown incredibly fond of Sophie and wanted to help in any way they could.

As the rider approached the Market Square in Nottingham, he spotted a large crowd of people gathering quickly in a circle. Curious the rider approached the commotion and pushed his way through to find the source of the intrigue. In the centre lay the body of Sophie. Unable to hear the Drayman’s warning she had been struck by a coach and died instantly.

With such a sudden an early death, we can only hope that Sophie is content now as she walks through the grounds of the place she loved so dearly.

The stories of Nottingham are endless. Its rich history and infamous folklore have spread across the world, filling bedtime stories, campfire ghost tales and even much-loved Disney films.

So in the words of Roger Miller, “Every town, Has its ups and downs, Sometimes the ups, Outnumber the downs. Not in Nottingham.”

You’ve been listening to The Folklorist, a podcast written and narrated by me Alannagh Cooke. If you’ve enjoyed today’s episode please like and subscribe on wherever you choose to listen, and you can also follow me on Instagram and Twitter at The Folklorist podcast.

Thank you for listening.