The Women Who Haunt Bath: Female Ghosts, Legends & Lost Lives

Penni Wallace • October 30, 2026

From the elegant Georgian streets to old Victorian houses, former hospitals and forgotten corners of the city, Bath has accumulated a remarkable collection of stories about women who never quite left. 

Some are said to appear in familiar surroundings, others are associated with strange noises, unexplained disturbances or fleeting figures glimpsed in passing. 

Their identities are sometimes known, sometimes lost to time, and occasionally little more than a mystery.


Bath is celebrated for its beautiful architecture, fashionable Georgian society and rich history. Yet behind its elegant façades lies a darker collection of tales: women in grey, mysterious servants, spectral brides and frightening apparitions said to linger long after their earthly lives have ended.


Some of these stories are attached to real historical figures, while others survive through local tradition and accounts of unexplained experiences. Their details can vary between tellings, and not every haunting comes with a clear explanation. Nevertheless, together they form a fascinating part of Bath's supernatural folklore.


Here are some of the female ghosts and mysterious women said to haunt Bath and its surrounding neighbourhoods.


The Hauntings of Widcombe


Widcombe Crescent and Widcombe Terrace


Widcombe has two particularly unsettling stories involving female apparitions, each remembered for the fear they supposedly caused among the people living in the houses.


The Terrifying Female Spirit of Widcombe Crescent

One disturbing account tells of a female apparition appearing on the staircase of a house in Widcombe Crescent following a tragic family event. 

Her expression was described as so full of malice that members of the household became frightened of using the stairs, rushing up them to avoid encountering her.

The family eventually left, and subsequent occupants reportedly struggled to remain in the property. A local priest is said to have moved in to confront the haunting, but the activity allegedly intensified. The story culminates in an attempted exorcism attended by as many as forty priests. What happened during the final confrontation remains part of the tale.


The Elderly Woman of Widcombe Terrace

Another strange haunting is associated with a house on Widcombe Terrace, where two sisters lived together, the younger caring for her bedridden elder sibling.

The younger woman reportedly encountered a frightening elderly figure dressed in old-fashioned servant's clothing. Her lined face was twisted with anger, and after making threatening gestures, the apparition vanished up the stairs. A second, luminous figure was subsequently witnessed by the younger sister and a visiting relative.

The house allegedly acquired a sinister reputation, with domestic servants said to have fled rather than enter certain rooms. The identity of the figures, and the reason for their appearances, remain unexplained.


Women in Grey, Blue and Purple


The Lady in Blue — A Victorian Villa

A beautiful Victorian villa in Bath, surrounded by extensive grounds, reportedly gained a reputation for haunting during the 1930s and 1940s.

The most frequently described apparition was a woman wearing a blue dress and bonnet, with curly hair. Her appearances were fleeting, and witnesses sometimes described her as bending down or dragging something invisible across the floor.

Who she might have been, and what she appeared to be doing, remains a mystery.


The Grey Lady of the Theatre Royal

One of Bath's best-known ghost stories centres on the Theatre Royal Bath and the neighbouring Garrick's Head.

The Grey Lady is traditionally described as an elegant female figure dressed in grey, sometimes associated with a feather in her hair, a smell of jasmine is said to follow her or announce her presence to an unsuspecting person in her vicinity.. 

Several versions of her story circulate, often involving an actress and a tragic romance. 

She is said to appear in the theatre's upper circle and has also been associated with the neighbouring building. 


The details of her supposed life and death vary between accounts, making it difficult to separate the original legend from later embellishments. Nevertheless, she remains one of the most enduring figures in Bath's ghostly folklore.

The Woman in Grey — St Martin's Hospital

A female figure dressed in grey is also said to have been seen at St Martin's Hospital in Bath. She has sometimes been described as a nurse who died at the institution.


Little further detail appears to have survived about this particular story, leaving the woman's identity and the circumstances behind the reported haunting uncertain.


The Grey Lady of the Royal Mineral Water Hospital

Another Grey Lady is associated with Bath's former Royal Mineral Water Hospital. She is said to have been a nurse who took her own life within the building, with her ghost subsequently reported there.


The story is a reminder of the many ghost legends attached to Bath's historic medical institutions, where generations of patients and staff experienced illness, suffering and loss.


The Old Lady in Purple — The Grey House, St Catherine's Valley

At a private residence known as the Grey House in St Catherine's Valley, near Batheaston, a former female occupant is said to make her presence known to gardeners.

The apparition is described as an elderly woman wearing a purple dress. 

According to the account, she seems particularly interested in the garden, a task she apparently preferred to undertake herself during her lifetime.

Perhaps she simply never relinquished her favourite part of the property.


The Misty Lady — Grosvenor Hotel

A female apparition known as the Misty Lady is associated with the Grosvenor Hotel. Reports describe a sudden drop in temperature accompanying her appearance, while unexplained footsteps have also been heard. 

Little is known about the identity of this mysterious figure, whose reported presence is marked more by an unsettling atmosphere than by any detailed description.


The Old-Fashioned Lady — Grosvenor Place

At Grosvenor Place, a husband and wife reportedly witnessed a strange female figure silently drifting through their living room. The apparition was described as monochrome, almost as though she belonged to an old photograph.

The sight frightened the couple's cat, and further reports suggested that the same figure had subsequently been seen on the staircase. 

Who the woman might have been, and why she appeared in this unusual form, remains unknown.


Brides, Actresses and Unfortunate Women


The Women of Queen Square

Queen Square is associated with stories of a ghostly bride, sometimes called Julia, who is said to wander the area following a tragic romantic disappointment.


In the familiar version of the tale, the young woman was jilted by her intended husband and threw herself from a window. Her ghost is then said to linger around the square, forever associated with the heartbreak that supposedly led to her death.


However, there appears to be little historical evidence to substantiate Julia's story as it is usually told.


There is a separate historical account concerning a young woman known as Sylvia, whose real name was Fanny Braddock. She reportedly died by suicide in September 1731 at the home of John Wood. Accounts of her death describe her wearing white clothing intended to resemble a bride.


Could these two stories have become intertwined over time? It is an intriguing possibility, although the connection remains unproven.


Miss Hunt and the Elizabethan Costume

A former wedding dress shop in Northgate Street was reportedly haunted by a female spirit known as Miss Hunt. She was believed to have taken her own life in a neighbouring building and was said to make her presence known after closing time, opening doors and switching lights on and off.


Around 1978, staff displayed an elaborate Elizabethan costume made for a local drama society. According to the story, the haunting intensified, with Miss Hunt repeatedly appearing and disappearing around the dress. An unpleasant, damp smell reportedly filled the shop.

The costume was eventually removed from the window, after which the strange activity and smell were said to have stopped. Whether the events were connected, or simply a curious coincidence, remains part of the story.


The White Lady of the Francis Hotel

The Francis Hotel occupies several of the Georgian townhouses on the south side of Queen Square. It is also associated with a female ghost, often described as a former housekeeper who died by hanging.

Guests have reportedly experienced unexplained scratching and tapping noises in their rooms. One account even describes a hot-water bottle being flung from a table by an unseen force. 

The identity of the woman is not always consistent across versions of the story, but the hotel remains associated with this unsettling female presence


The Woman in Grey at the Circus

The elegant Georgian houses of the Circus have their own reported supernatural history. One residence is said to have experienced poltergeist-like disturbances, alongside the apparition of an elderly woman in a long dress.


She was reportedly seen sitting quietly beside the fire, as though occupying her accustomed place in the room. Unlike the more frightening figures in Bath's ghost stories, this woman appears to have been a silent, passive presence.

There is little further information about her identity or the circumstances surrounding the sighting.


Servants, Sisters and Mysterious Figures


Bunty — The Beehive

A female ghost known as Bunty is associated with the former Beehive public house on Lansdown Road, now known as Grappa's Bar.


She is said to have been a Victorian worker connected with the establishment and has reportedly appeared in hallways and bedrooms, wearing a blue-grey gown or servant's clothing. Unlike some of Bath's more frightening apparitions, Bunty is described as a peaceful figure, seemingly going about her ordinary duties. 

Her story is one of a woman whose working life may, according to local legend, have continued long after her death.


The Silk Ladies of the Ballastrade

For many years, Bath Theatrical Costume Hire occupied premises at 2 The Ballastrade on London Road. It was here that reports emerged of a particularly unusual haunting, attributed to mysterious figures who became known as the Silk Ladies.


The owner reportedly sat sewing on a balcony and heard the unmistakable swish of silk skirts moving up the stairs. Women's voices and the clinking of crockery could also be heard, as though an elegant gathering were taking place just out of sight.


Later historical research by myself uncovered a possible connection with two sisters, Marian and Alice Patmore, who lived at the premises between 1927 and 1935. Marian worked as a milliner and dressmaker, and both women had connections with clothing and needlework.


Could the mysterious Silk Ladies have been connected with the sisters? 

There is no way to establish this, but the coincidence makes for a fascinating addition to the story. 


Juliana Popjoy — Beau Nash's House

Juliana Popjoy, who lived from approximately 1710 to 1777, is remembered as the last mistress of the celebrated Bath social figure Beau Nash.


Her ghost is said to haunt the building associated with their relationship, now occupied by a restaurant. Diners have reportedly seen a woman appear in an upstairs room before vanishing in front of them. Some versions of the story suggest that Juliana can also take on the appearance of a frightening, wizened old woman.


A second female apparition is associated with the building: a woman dressed in 1960s clothing who reportedly appears perfectly ordinary until she suddenly disappears. 


The two figures make for an unusual combination of Georgian history and a much more modern ghost story.


The Nun of Larkhall Place

At a house in Larkhall Place, a resident reportedly encountered the apparition of a nun dressed in black on several occasions.

The figure's face was indistinct, appearing as little more than a blur. The sightings were also said to be accompanied by a repulsive, musty smell. 

On other occasions, the resident heard their name being called when nobody else was in the house.

The identity of the mysterious nun remains unknown, and the reason for her reported presence has never been established.


The Lady in the Mac — Combe Down

A woman identified as Mrs Phillips reportedly encountered a mysterious female figure repeatedly over a period of around eighteen months in the Combe Down area.

The apparition appeared between a quarry and a field, looking solid rather than transparent. She was always described as wearing the same mackintosh and beret and carrying a canvas bag. Despite repeated encounters, she never spoke or acknowledged Mrs Phillips.

The witness wondered whether the woman might have had some connection with the quarry, but no explanation for the sightings appears to have emerged.


A Ghostly Girl and Other Unexplained Women


The Ghost Girl of Swallow Street

A young girl's apparition is said to have been seen around the Old Boiler House associated with the former Victorian Bath Laundry in Swallow Street.

Local accounts suggest that the girl may have been the victim of a murder connected with the site. 

However, I have not found sufficient evidence to establish that this supposed crime took place, so the circumstances behind the story remain uncertain.


The Female Spirit of the Raven

The Raven public house is associated with an entity known as George, who is said to haunt the cellar near an old well.

What makes this story unusual is the claim that George can take a female form. Little else is known about the apparition, and the identity of this mysterious presence remains unclear. 


The Older Lady of the Green Park Tavern

A more recent report concerns the upper part of the former Green Park Tavern, now Magu.

According to a witness account recorded by the Paranormal Database, a member of staff encountered an older female apparition while going upstairs to move stock. The encounter reportedly frightened the witness enough to make them retreat quickly. 

Bath

Unlike the better-known legends attached to Bath's historic buildings, this is a relatively modern report, with little information about the woman's identity or history.


Lastly, Bath's most famous haunting - Sally-in-the-Wood — The Mysterious Woman of the Road

South of Bath, near Bathford, lies the area known as Sally-in-the-Wood, a place surrounded by local folklore and stories of unexplained events.


Several explanations have been offered for the name, including a tale of a mysterious woman who supposedly lived in the area in the early nineteenth century. 

Other accounts associate the location with ghostly sightings and unexplained accidents on the road.

The identity of Sally, if she was a real person, remains uncertain. 

Whether the name preserves the memory of an actual woman or grew from local storytelling is difficult to establish, but the mystery has become part of the area's folklore. 


The Women Who Remain

Bath's female ghost stories are as varied as the city's history. 

Some tell of tragic romances and women remembered by name; others describe servants, nurses, elderly residents and mysterious strangers whose identities have long since been forgotten.


There are frightening apparitions said to have driven people from their homes, quiet figures apparently continuing their daily routines, and unexplained voices or footsteps suggesting that someone might still be present when nobody can be seen.


Of course, these are stories, reported experiences and local traditions, not proof that the dead remain among us. Some have changed through generations of retelling, while others survive only as brief accounts with little surviving detail.


Yet perhaps that is part of their enduring appeal. 

Behind every reported apparition lies a question: who was she, what happened to her, and why has her story endured?


In a city as old as Bath, with its beautiful streets and centuries of human history, it is easy to understand why such tales continue to capture the imagination.


And perhaps, somewhere behind one of those Georgian windows or along a quiet old passage, the women of Bath's ghost stories are still waiting to be remembered.


These are only brief versions of the stories, each haunting has its own individual listing, blog post or longer Substack publication, where you can read the full story and, where possible, the history and research behind the legend.


Happy Halloween !

Penni Wallace


Sources - Bath Paranormal

Haunted Bath - David Brandon, Paranormal Somerset - Selena Wright, Paranormal Bath - Malcolm Cady, Paranormal Database & Local Sources

Punkie Night: A Somerset Spectre’s Tradition

By PJ Wallace • October 29, 2026
Punkie Night: A Somerset Spectre’s Tradition When the last Thursday of October descends upon Somerset, the air grows chill and the fields of the West Country whisper with an ancient song. For on this night—Punkie Night—children parade through the lanes, their faces lit by the flickering glow of hollowed roots. They chant a haunting refrain that echoes through the darkness: "It’s Punkie Night tonight, It’s Punkie Night tonight, Adam and Eve would not believe, It’s Punkie Night tonight." No soul can say for certain how this eerie rite began. Some claim it is bound to Hallowe’en itself, that night when the veil between worlds thins. The word “Punkie”—an old English name for a lantern—hints at the light that defies the shadows. But unlike the modern pumpkin, these lanterns were once carved from swedes or mangel-wurzels, their twisted grins glowing from pale, gnarled flesh. Others whisper that Punkie stems from punk—tinder that sparks fire—perhaps a clue to the old ways now half-forgotten. Across the centuries, the custom has glimmered in many places: upon the windswept crest of Castle Neroche in the Blackdown Hills, through Long Sutton, and most enduringly, in Hinton St George and Lopen, where the night still belongs to the Punkies. The Legends Behind the Lanterns Local lore tells of the men of Hinton St George, who would vanish to the fair at nearby Chiselborough, returning home drunk and stumbling through the black October night. To find their way, they set candles within hollowed roots, their makeshift lights bobbing eerily in the mist. Yet some tales turn the story on its head. They say it was the women who carved the lanterns—fashioning Punkies from the harvest’s remains—and went searching for their wayward husbands. Some even knocked at doors, begging for mangel-wurzels and candles, their plea giving birth to the Punkie Night song that still drifts through village lanes. Others tell that when the drunken men glimpsed those ghostly lights, they mistook them for spirits or “ghoulies,” fleeing home in terror—proof that even the living may be haunted by their own folly. Though cloaked in folklore, the roots of Punkie Night stretch much deeper—a flicker of Samhain’s ancient fire, carried down through the centuries. It is a night when the old world breathes again, when lanterns gleam like souls in the dark, and the West Country remembers that not all lights are meant to guide the living.  © Somerset Paranormal Image © PJW Artworks #punkienight #somersetfolklore #somersettraditions #somersetpunkienight #Halloween #halloweentraditions

The Lady of Chew Valley Lake: The Legend of Catherine Brown

By Somerset Paranormal • October 29, 2026
The Lady of Chew Valley Lake: The Legend of Catherine Brown Beneath the waters of Chew Valley Lake, near Bristol, lies a landscape that was once home to farms, houses, roads and the small settlement of Moreton. During the 1950s, the area was cleared to make way for the reservoir, which opened in 1956. Today, much of that former landscape lies beneath the water, although traces of the old settlement and its roads can sometimes become visible when water levels fall. It is against this haunting backdrop that the legend of Catherine Brown is told. According to local folklore, Catherine was a young woman who lived in Moreton in the early twentieth century. The story describes her as a troubled teenager who would sometimes disappear for long periods, causing concern to her parents. One day, she reportedly failed to return home, prompting a search involving her family and local people. During the search, Catherine's mother is said to have told the others that she needed to return home. What happened next is perhaps the strangest part of the tale. According to the story, Catherine's mother later saw her daughter arrive home, soaking wet and unusually silent. Catherine is said to have gone upstairs to her bedroom, where her mother left her undisturbed for the night. The following morning, however, Catherine was reportedly nowhere to be found. A subsequent search allegedly led to the discovery of her body in the water at Stratford Corn Mill, less than a mile away. Some versions of the story claim that she had already been dead for around 24 hours. If the tale is true, had Catherine's mother seen her daughter's spirit return home that night, unaware that she had already died? There is an important distinction between the legend and the historical record: I have not found contemporary evidence confirming Catherine's death or the circumstances described in this account. For now, the story is best treated as local folklore rather than established fact. The Ghostly Woman by the Lake The story does not end with Catherine's supposed death. Over the years, accounts have circulated of a mysterious young woman seen in the vicinity of Chew Valley Lake. She is described as wearing old-fashioned clothing, with long, wet hair, appearing as though she has emerged from the water itself. Reports of these sightings attracted attention in 1999, when local newspaper articles discussed a mysterious figure sometimes referred to as the Lady of the Lake. One reported encounter involved a driver and two passengers travelling along the B3114. They allegedly saw a woman appear in the road before drifting across it. Descriptions attributed to the witnesses spoke of long, wet, wavy hair and old-fashioned dress. The driver is said to have stopped at a nearby pub and contacted the police. The account was subsequently discussed at a local historical or paranormal meeting, where other people reportedly described similar experiences. These reports help establish that stories of a ghostly woman were circulating in the area by the end of the twentieth century. Whether the apparition was Catherine Brown, however, remains a matter of speculation. There are also suggestions of sightings of a similar figure around Barrow Gurney Lake, although it is unclear whether these accounts concern the same supposed apparition. A Ghost, or Something in the Mist? Not everyone would interpret these sightings as supernatural. Chew Valley Lake can produce atmospheric conditions in which mist forms over or around the water. In the right light, moving fog, reflections and shadows can create the impression of a figure crossing a road or moving through the landscape. Could the Lady of Chew Valley Lake be a ghostly presence returning from a tragic past? Could the legend of Catherine Brown have grown around unexplained sightings, with the story and the apparition becoming intertwined over time? Or might there be a more natural explanation for what witnesses believe they have seen? The original story of Catherine remains unverified, but the legend continues to offer a haunting image: a mysterious, water-soaked woman appearing beside a reservoir beneath which an older landscape lies hidden. What do you think? Have you heard of the Lady of Chew Valley Lake, or do you know of any older accounts of Catherine Brown?  © PJW - Somerset Paranormal

Hag-Riding: The Witchcraft That Came in the Night

By P Wallace • October 23, 2026
The old belief that witches could visit the living in their sleep, pin them down and leave them terrified by morning. Imagine waking in the darkness, conscious of your surroundings but unable to move. Something presses upon your chest. You struggle to cry out, yet no sound comes. Perhaps you sense a presence beside the bed — or see a familiar face watching you from the shadows. For centuries, experiences such as these could be interpreted as something far more sinister than a bad dream. In parts of Britain, people believed they had been visited during the night by a witch or supernatural hag. The experience was known as hag-riding. It was not simply a frightening tale told beside the fire. In the West Country, this belief could have very real consequences, sometimes leading to accusations of witchcraft and physical attacks upon those suspected of causing the torment. What was hag-riding? Hag-riding, sometimes called hagging, was the belief that a witch or malevolent night visitor could attack someone while they slept. Victims might describe a crushing weight upon the chest, difficulty breathing, an inability to move and the terrifying sensation that another being was present. The word nightmare itself has older associations with this nocturnal oppression — the feeling of being held down or crushed by an unseen force. In some traditions, the attacker was imagined as an old woman or hag sitting upon the sleeper's chest. Elsewhere, the experience was blamed on a living person believed to possess harmful supernatural powers. The details varied, but the fear was much the same: something had come in the night, and the victim had been powerless to stop it. A presence in the darkness Today, some of these descriptions sound remarkably like sleep paralysis , a recognised sleep phenomenon that can occur as a person is falling asleep or waking. The mind becomes conscious while the body's temporary muscle paralysis associated with dreaming has not yet lifted. The person may be unable to move or speak, feel pressure upon their chest, or sense an intruder in the room. Some even see frightening figures or shadows. Although sleep paralysis is understood today as a sleep-related phenomenon, it can feel extraordinarily real. Across different cultures, similar experiences have been interpreted as visits from spirits, demons, witches or other supernatural beings. It would be too simple to say that every historical account of hag-riding was a case of sleep paralysis. We cannot know exactly what happened in every instance. But the similarities help us understand how a frightening experience could be interpreted through the beliefs of the time. For someone who believed witchcraft was a real threat, waking unable to move and feeling a presence nearby might seem compelling evidence of an attack. The experience could be terrifying; the explanation depended upon the world in which the person lived. When the nightmare became witchcraft In popular belief, witches were feared not only for supposedly causing illness or misfortune, but for tormenting people through supernatural means. Hag-riding made this threat intensely personal: the supposed witch entered the bedroom and attacked the victim in their most vulnerable moments. If frightening nights continued, a person might come to believe they recognised the attacker. Existing quarrels, local suspicions or a neighbour's reputation could reinforce that conviction. What began as a terrifying experience in the darkness might spill into daylight, becoming an accusation of witchcraft — sometimes with serious consequences. Historian Owen Davies has documented cases of hag-riding accusations in nineteenth-century West Country England, showing that these beliefs survived long after the great period of witch trials had passed. Charms against the hag If the danger was believed to arrive at night, protection had to be close at hand. One object associated with this folklore was the hag-stone — a naturally occurring stone with a hole through it. Such stones were hung near beds or in stables, where they were believed to guard against nocturnal attacks. Horses that appeared exhausted or had tangled manes might also be thought to have been hag-ridden. Prayers and other protective charms could offer reassurance, too. A familiar bedtime prayer was not merely a comforting ritual; it might also be understood as a defence against unseen dangers. These customs belonged to a wider tradition of protective folklore, and not every charm was used specifically against hag-riding. Their meanings varied between places and periods, but they reveal how seriously people could take the threat of supernatural harm. Hag-riding in Victorian Somerset It is easy to imagine that belief in witches disappeared with the witch trials. Yet folklore rarely vanishes so neatly. Historian Owen Davies identified at least six court cases involving assaults connected with hag-riding accusations in Somerset and Dorset between 1852 and 1875. These reports offer a remarkable glimpse into a world where a belief in supernatural attack could still influence real behaviour. One particularly striking case reached the newspapers in January 1875. At Weston-super-Mare, 72-year-old widow Hester Adams was brought before the magistrates after attacking Maria Pring, whom she believed had been tormenting her and her husband at night. Adams described the supposed visitor as appearing spiritually rather than coming bodily, and believed that drawing blood would break the spell. When asked in court what she meant by hag-riding, Adams described it as a person coming to terrify others at night. The case attracted attention well beyond Somerset, with newspapers reporting on a belief many readers considered an astonishing survival from an earlier age. Yet for Adams, this was no mere old wives' tale. She believed she was under supernatural attack and acted against the person she held responsible. The 1875 case was not the only example found in contemporary reports. A Dorset case from 1871 also involved an accusation of hag-riding, in which a young man and an elderly woman were involved. Together, these reports show that the belief was not confined to one extraordinary incident. The last newspaper trail: Somerset, 1929 Nor had the belief entirely disappeared by the end of the Victorian era. In 1929, a dispute between the Sheppard and Lock families on the Somerset peat moors, between Langport and Aller, led to another accusation of hag-riding. Following a series of misfortunes, George Sheppard accused Reuben Lock and his wife of being responsible for the nocturnal torment. This is the latest example I have so far found in the British Newspaper Archive. It does not prove that hag-riding belief ended in 1929, but it offers a remarkable glimpse of an old supernatural explanation surviving into the twentieth century. From frightening experiences in the night to protective stones, accusations of witchcraft and disputes brought into the public eye, hag-riding reveals how deeply folklore could shape people's understanding of the unexplained. The hag might have been invisible to everyone else, but for those who believed they had been ridden in the night, the fear — and sometimes the consequences — were very real. © PJW Image - PJW Artworks Newspaper Articles - British Newspaper Archives 1875

Another place for Somerset Paranormal

By Penni Wallace • October 21, 2026
Somerset & Bath Paranormal is now also on Substack

A Glimpse of WW2 in Collett Park - Shepton Mallet

By Somerset Paranormal • October 21, 2026
History - Collett Park owes its existence to John Kyte Collett, a successful businessman who was born in Shepton Mallet in 1836. The story goes that as a boy, Collett was frustrated by being turned off privately owned fields where he and other local children played. He apparently never forgot the experience, and many years later, having made his fortune in Cardiff, he began buying up pieces of land in Shepton Mallet. On 20 June 1906, he presented the land to the town as a public recreation ground, creating the park that now bears his name. Just three years later, in 1909, the park received a royal visit from the Prince and Princess of Wales, the future King George V and Queen Mary, who came to thank Collett personally for his generous gift to the town. Today, Collett Park remains one of Shepton Mallet's much-loved green spaces. Reported Encounter - Perhaps one of the more intriguing stories connected with Collett Park is one with a wartime link. A local story, as told recently on 'The Other Side' BBC Somerset tells of someone walking through the park who saw two young women dressed as Land Girls making their way through the grounds. There was nothing particularly remarkable about them at first — until the realisation dawned that the women appeared to belong to another time. The witness was able to describe the women's Victory roll hair styles, clothing, they had gasmask bags and the fact they were deep in conversation together, she thought they were real people, re enactors or in costume for something, but she looked back to check on her dogs and they had vanished..! She checked local events and couldn't see anything that would explain why they were there.. The Women's Land Army was very much a part of life in rural Somerset during the Second World War, with young women sent to work on farms and in agriculture as part of the wartime effort. So two Land Girls walking through Shepton Mallet would once have been an entirely ordinary sight. Today, however, a fleeting glimpse of two young women in wartime clothing feels rather different — perhaps a rare privilege, to catch a moment from the past lingering quietly in the present, a brief glimpse of what might be a residual haunting. Source - The Other Side - Secret Somerset - BBC/ Luke Knight Listen here - Secret Somerset - The Other Side - Land girls in the park - BBC Sounds Image - PJW Artworks Photo - Shepton Mallet Nub News

Elder - A Tree of Spirits, Stories & Somerset Superstition

By P Wallace • October 10, 2026
Elder A Tree of Spirits, Stories and Somerset Superstition. Among the hedgerows of Somerset, the elder tree stands quietly — but never entirely innocently. For centuries, elder has been treated with a curious mixture of respect, usefulness and superstition. Across Britain, it has been associated with healing, protection, witchcraft, spirits and death. At the heart of much elder folklore is the belief that the tree is inhabited — or protected — by a female spirit known as the Elder Mother, the Old Lady or the Old Girl. And in Somerset, elder has its own darker stories. The Elder Mother: Spirit of the Tree The Elder Mother was said to dwell within the elder tree and to take offence if her wood was cut without permission. In some parts of England, anyone wishing to take a branch was expected to ask the tree's permission first. One traditional charm was: “Old Woman, give me some of thy wood and I will give thee some of mine when I grow into a tree.” The wording varies between traditions, but the meaning is the same: the tree was not to be treated as ordinary wood. To take elder without permission could bring bad luck or illness, and stories were told of people who suffered misfortune after offending the spirit of the tree. The belief was strong enough that elder wood was sometimes avoided altogether for household objects. The idea of the Elder Mother was not confined to Somerset. Similar traditions are found across Britain and Scandinavia, where the spirit was sometimes known by names such as the Danish Hyldemoer, or Elder Mother. * A Witch in the Somerset Elder Somerset has its own particularly strange elder-tree tale. In the story, a farmer sees what appears to be an old woman — a witch — beneath or within an elder tree, and discovers that she has been secretly milking his cow. He shoots at her with a silver bullet, but misses. The witch flees towards the farmhouse, where the farmer's grandmother takes matters into her own hands. She picks up a burning coal from the fire and throws it at the elder tree. The witch is killed. It is a wonderfully Somerset kind of folktale: an ordinary rural setting, a familiar farmyard, and something distinctly supernatural hiding amongst the hedgerows. The story is recorded as a Somerset folk-tale in discussions of the Elder Mother and elder-tree witch traditions. * Never Burn Elder Wood Elder also acquired a reputation as wood that was best left alone. Across British folklore, burning elder could be considered unlucky, and stories warned of what might happen if the wood was brought into the home or put upon the fire. The Elder Mother might follow the wood indoors, bringing trouble with her. Other traditions said that the wood's popping and cracking in the fire was the sound of the spirit protesting. There was also a practical reason for elder's unusual reputation: its hollow, soft wood was not especially desirable as ordinary firewood, while the tree itself was valued for food, medicine and numerous household uses. So the warnings surrounding elder may have helped preserve a useful tree as much as they expressed supernatural fear. *Witches, Protection and Magic Elder has always had a distinctly double-sided reputation. It could protect — but it could also punish. In English folklore, elder was associated with protection from evil spirits, witches, lightning and other dangers. Elder branches or crosses were sometimes used around barns, houses and livestock. At the same time, witches were believed in some traditions to be able to take the form of elder trees. The tree therefore occupied an uneasy place in folklore: protector, healer, witch and spirit all at once. An old English tradition even held that elder could protect against lightning, while carrying elder twigs could guard against certain ailments. *Healing, Magic and the Elder Berry For all its darker associations, elder was also one of the great useful plants of traditional rural life. Its flowers and berries were gathered for food and medicine, and elder preparations appear throughout historical herbal traditions. Elderflower was used in traditional remedies for fevers and other complaints, while elderberries were made into syrups, wines and other preparations. This mixture of practical usefulness and supernatural reputation is perhaps what makes elder folklore so fascinating. It was a tree that could feed you, heal you — and, according to the old stories, take offence if you treated it badly. Kew notes the elder's long-standing reputation as both protector and avenger, with the Elder Mother said to curse those who harmed the tree. *Death, Spirits and the Elder Tree Elder's association with death is another recurring strand of its folklore. The tree was connected with spirits, witches and the boundary between the living world and the supernatural. In some traditions, elder growing around places associated with the dead was seen as protective. Its connection with both beginnings and endings has given elder an especially liminal character in folklore. It belongs to the hedgerow, the cottage garden, the churchyard and the boundary — places where the ordinary world and the supernatural have traditionally been imagined to meet. *A Tree of the Hedgerow Perhaps this is why elder feels so at home in Somerset folklore. It is not a grand ancient oak standing alone on a hill. It is the tree beside the lane. The tree growing through the hedge. The white blossom beside the cottage. The dark berries appearing at the end of summer. The ordinary tree that, according to generations of rural stories, might contain something watching from within. The folklore of elder is found throughout Britain, rather than belonging exclusively to Somerset. But Somerset has contributed its own memorable stories — including the tale of the elder-tree witch — to a much wider tradition surrounding this curious and much-feared tree. **Folklore Disclaimer This piece explores traditional folklore, superstition and rural belief. Elder folklore varies considerably between regions and communities, and not every custom was practised everywhere. The traditions described here belong to the wider folklore of Britain, with particular reference to West Country and Somerset material where this can be identified. They should be understood as folklore and oral tradition rather than established historical fact. Folklore is cultural memory: a mixture of belief, superstition, storytelling and local tradition. *Sources & Notes This article draws on established British and European elder folklore, including: Katharine Briggs, A Dictionary of Fairies Charlotte Sophia Burne, Shropshire Folk-Lore Christina Hole, English Folklore Nicholas Culpeper, The Complete Herbal Folklore Society collections and published folklore studies Historical and botanical accounts of elder traditions The Elder Mother, the custom of asking permission before cutting elder, the tree's associations with witches and spirits, and its medicinal uses are all well-established elements of elder folklore. The Somerset elder-tree witch story is a particularly useful example of how these wider traditions became part of local West Country storytelling. © Somerset Paranormal Read more on my new Substack publication - Somerset Hidden History, Mystery & Folklore | Penni Wallace | Substack Images - flowerfairies. com, RitaE - Pixabay Petals and Stone - Somerset

Jane Austen in Bath: Her Homes, Her Novels, and the Question of a Ghost

By Bath Paranormal • September 23, 2026
Born on 16 December 1775, Jane Austen remains one of England’s most beloved authors — yet her relationship with Bath was complicated. She lived in the city for several years, drew inspiration from it, disliked it intensely, and ultimately left with a sense of relief. But with such a strong connection to the place, some wonder whether her spirit ever returned. Jane Austen’s Bath Years (1801–1806) When Jane Austen moved to Bath in 1801, the city was a fashionable spa resort, bustling with visitors seeking health, society, and entertainment. Although she never warmed to the city, Bath became the backdrop for two of her six published novels: Northanger Abbey and Persuasion. During her association with Bath — roughly six years — she lived in four different houses, each marking a chapter of her family’s shifting circumstances. 1799 – 13 Queen Square Jane stayed here for a month with her mother during a summer visit. 1801–1804 – 4 Sydney Place After her father, Rev. George Austen, retired from his parish at Steventon, the family settled at 4 Sydney Place. A bronze plaque now marks it as Jane’s principal Bath residence. 1804–1805 – 27 Green Park Buildings The Austen’s moved here on a short lease. It was in this house that Jane’s father died in January 1805. 1805–1806 – 25 Gay Street Jane, her mother, and her sister Cassandra relocated to Gay Street, close to what is now the Jane Austen Centre. They remained only a little over a year before leaving Bath permanently. By the summer of 1806, the family departed for Clifton, then Southampton, and finally Chawton, Hampshire, where Jane spent eight productive years before her death in 1817. She is buried in Winchester Cathedral. Her Feelings About Bath Despite Bath’s influence on her writing, Jane Austen never hid her dislike of living there. After leaving, she wrote to her sister Cassandra: “It will be two years tomorrow since we left Bath for Clifton, with what happy feelings of escape.” Her novels echo this sentiment. In Northanger Abbey, Isabella Thorpe famously complains: “I get so immoderately sick of Bath… we would not live here for millions.” Yet Austen’s detailed observations of Bath society — its balls, promenades, gossip, and social rituals — are woven seamlessly into her fiction. Even if she disliked the city, she understood it intimately. Did Jane Austen’s Ghost Ever Return? With four Bath addresses tied to her life, and two novels rooted in its streets, it’s natural to wonder whether Jane Austen’s spirit lingers in the city she escaped from. There are no confirmed sightings of her ghost in Bath — no documented hauntings at Queen Square, Sydney Place, Green Park Buildings, or Gay Street. But the idea persists in local imagination. She may not have loved Bath, but her connection to it was undeniably strong. The Jane Austen Festival — Bath Today Bath’s relationship with Jane Austen has transformed dramatically since her lifetime. Every September, the city hosts the Jane Austen Festival, one of the largest Regency celebrations in the world. Thousands of visitors arrive in period dress, filling the streets with promenades, dances, readings, and theatrical events. It’s a striking contrast: a city she once longed to escape now celebrates her with devotion. If her spirit ever did wander back, she would find Bath transformed — not the fashionable spa she disliked, but a place where her legacy is cherished. Perhaps that’s why the question remains open: Did Jane Austen ever return to Bath in spirit? Maybe… maybe not — but Bath shaped her life so deeply that the question remains an intriguing one. It would certainly be interesting to know whether any of her former homes have ever reported unusual activity. After all, dislike or not, Bath shaped her life — and her literature — in ways that lasted long after she left.  Created by P Wallace/Bath Paranormal, with AI assistance for writing clarity. **All research, structure, and content choices are my own. This piece draws on publicly available details and historical references.**

Unpicking the Myth of The Court, Emborough

By Somerset Paranormal • September 23, 2026
On the rise of Lynch Hill, between Emborough and Chilcompton, stands a house with a quiet presence and a surprisingly tangled identity. Today it is private accommodation, closed to the public and folded back into the landscape. But for decades it was known as The Court Hotel , a place whispered about for its resident ghost — a tall figure in old‑style judicial robes, said to be Judge George Jeffreys, the infamous “Hanging Judge” of the Bloody Assizes. It’s a story that has circulated for years. But when you trace the building’s history, the legend begins to unravel. Linch House: The Building Before the Myth Early maps from the 1800s list the property not as a court, nor as a hotel, but as Linch House . The name comes from the Old English hlinc, meaning a ridge or boundary terrace — a clue that the house stands on land shaped by centuries of agricultural use and early settlement. Somerset is full of “lynch” place‑names marking old field systems and medieval terraces, and Linch House fits neatly into that pattern. This tells us something important: the building began life as a private residence , not a judicial building. Its position on the ridge, overlooking the surrounding lanes, would have made it a desirable spot for a small manor or gentleman’s house. Nothing in its early naming or placement suggests any connection to legal proceedings, assize courts, or the machinery of 17th‑century justice. The 20th‑Century Reinvention: From Linch House to The Court By the time of the 1947 map, the house had adopted a new name: The Court. This kind of renaming was common in the late Victorian and early‑20th‑century period, when rural manor houses often took on grander titles to reflect status, aspiration, or simply fashion. “Court” was a popular choice — it sounded distinguished, landed, and steeped in heritage, even if the building had never hosted a single legal proceeding. This change is the hinge on which the later folklore swings. Once the house became The Court, it became easy — almost inevitable — for people to assume it had once been a court house. And once that assumption took hold, the next step was equally predictable: attaching the name of the West Country’s most notorious judge, George Jeffreys. Judge Jeffreys: A Legend Looking for a Home Jeffreys’ reputation during the Bloody Assizes of 1685 was so severe that his name has become a kind of folkloric shorthand for cruelty. Inns, manor houses, and old buildings across Somerset and Dorset have stories linking him to their walls, often without any historical evidence. In the case of Linch House — later The Court — there is no record of Jeffreys ever visiting the property. His documented circuit passed through Wells, Taunton, Exeter, Dorchester and Salisbury. Emborough and Chilcompton do not appear in any official accounts of the Assizes. The Jeffreys connection here is almost certainly a 20th‑century invention , born from the building’s new name rather than its past. But the haunting itself? That’s a different matter. The Haunting: A Figure on a Familiar Path Witnesses from the hotel era — both staff and guests — describe a tall figure dressed in old‑style clothing, interpreted as judicial robes. He appears in the hallway, walks through what was once the original front door (now sealed), crosses the garden with deliberate purpose, pauses beneath a massive oak tree, and fades away. Even when the apparition doesn’t appear, people have reported the sound of the old front door opening and closing — a door that no longer exists. It’s a quiet, looping haunting. No theatrics. No messages. Just a repeated moment, as though someone is still following a familiar route. And once you remove the Jeffreys myth, the figure becomes far more plausible: a former resident of Linch House, replaying a routine from long before the building was ever called The Court. A Residual Haunting, Not a Judicial One Residual hauntings — those that replay a moment like an echo — often reflect: habitual paths daily routines emotionally charged places long‑term residents The apparition’s behaviour fits this pattern perfectly. He walks a known route, pauses at a known spot, and disappears. Nothing about the haunting suggests a judge delivering verdicts or a figure tied to the Assizes. It feels domestic, not judicial. The “judge” interpretation likely came after the building was renamed The Court, colouring how witnesses described what they saw. What Stands There Today The Court Hotel has long since closed. The building is now believed to be private accommodation, likely converted into flats. The old signage is gone, the car park is quiet, and the house has returned to its original role as a private residence — much like it was when it was still Linch House. Whether the haunting continues is unknown. If the figure is a residual imprint, he may still walk his path regardless of who lives there. If he is something more conscious, perhaps the new residents have seen him — and simply chosen not to share it. A Legend Born From a Name In the end, the haunting of The Court is a story shaped as much by the building’s changing identity as by anything supernatural. A private house becomes The Court, a name invites a legend, and a ghost becomes tied to a judge who never set foot there. Strip away the myth, and what remains is still compelling: a quiet house on a ridge, a figure walking a familiar path, and a story that has grown and shifted with the building itself. Sometimes the truth is simpler. Sometimes the folklore is louder. And sometimes a haunting doesn’t need a famous judge — just a house with a long memory. Images - Google Streetview 2016 Maps - Know your Place - 1888 (Linch House) 1947 (The Court) Articles - British Newspaper Archives  Created by Somerset Paranormal, with AI assistance for writing clarity. All research, structure, and content choices are my own. *UPDATE - On looking through the British Newspaper Archives I have found a few interesting things, Lynch House has been bought and sold quite a few times, as I have found a lot articles of it for sale in different years, it hasn't been in the hands of one family at all, it was let out in 1894, residents include FH Knight, who put in the telephones in 1933, also a Milicent Whitehouse died there in August 1893. There also seems to have been a fire which destroyed the original house in March 1872, see article, when it was the residence of Major Boyle, no one was injured. A Mr S Daniels owned it up to 1948, but it gets its first mention of being a guest house in 1946. Its earliest appearance in the newspapers I can see is in 1838, when it was owned by Mr Green. So to sum up, lots and lots of owners, a fire? just one death recorded, a female and no unusual or interesting events recorded.

Bath’s Forgotten Corner: The Eerie Legend of No. 1 Orange Grove

By Bath Paranormal • September 7, 2026
Bath’s Forgotten Corner: The Eerie Legend of No. 1 Orange Grove History - Nos. 1–7 Orange Grove were built between 1705 and 1708 on former Priory churchyard land which was gardens and an orchard beside Bath Abbey, forming one of the city’s earliest commercial terraces. By the 1730s the row already had its distinctive multi‑gabled frontage, facing the fashionable promenade where visitors gathered beneath the 1734 obelisk honouring the Prince of Orange. The shops became part of a lively Georgian hub of busy shops, including a perfumier and Mr Bulls toy shop. In 1897 the architect C.E. Davis refaced the terrace, regularising the gables and rebuilding the corner turret, giving the buildings the striking fairy‑tale silhouette seen today. Behind the neat frontage, the structures remain largely 18th‑century — old cellars, thick walls and uneven floors that have held centuries of Bath’s social life and gossip! The Haunting of No 1 No. 1 Orange Grove is one of the locations frequently highlighted on Bath’s ghost walks, mainly because of its long‑standing reputation for feeling cold, still and unnervingly oppressive, especially on the top floor. Over the years, people have claimed experiences of being pushed or having objects thrown or moved, which is why the tours describe it as a site of poltergeist‑style activity. These reports are impossible to verify and are almost certainly exaggerated for dramatic effect, but the building’s uneasy atmosphere has been talked about locally for a long time. Today No. 1 stands empty, previously an Antiques shop, owned by an elderly landlord, where the rooms lay untouched, adding to the sense of a place suspended in time. Whether the stories grew from genuine experiences or simply from the mood of an old, unused 18th‑century building, No. 1 remains the address most associated with Orange Grove’s darker folklore. Facts and Thoughts - There are mentions of a fire and children perishing, but on researching the address, I have found that there was indeed a small fire, in 1940, but no children perished, just a young maid, who somehow set herself on fire in one of the rooms above at that time a dressmakers and later died in hospital, see the full story below images  No 1 has been a county court office in 1852, a milliners in 1900 and for 30 years or so John Collins was a tobacconist there. I would love to hear from any eye witnesses to paranormal activity in this building, also is there anything reported for the other 6 buildings in the terrace? Real Life at No 1 Sources - Google Streetview 2015 Bath in Time 1945, View over to Orange Grove - 1979, credit - Frank Newport Know Your Place maps

The Ghost of Cranmore Tower

By Somerset Paranormal • August 20, 2026
Discover the history and haunting of Cranmore Tower, a Victorian folly on the Mendips with Roman remains, wartime connections and reports of a mysterious ghost.