For the first six years of my life, our family home was a cottage in the grounds of Newstead Abbey, in the English Midlands almost directly in between Nottingham and Mansfield. The cottage was tied to my Dad's job, working as he did as part of the team of groundsmen responsible for maintaining the estate.
Now, Newstead Abbey has a fair amount of history about it, not least for the fact that back in the day it was Lord Byron's residence. Just like many places though it's been a great many things throughout its existence from monastery, stately home, all the way through to the tourist attraction it is now.
Even as a kid I was aware of the stories bandied around the place, all of which stated the Abbey and its grounds were haunted, and though I'm as certain as I can be there were more stories, three of them really stood out and I can recall them to this day. Not only can I recall those three stories of The White Lady, The Headless Monk, and The Haunted Carriage, I've witnessed the source of two of those stories with my own eyes.
It was the 80s and things were very different back then (and I'm not just talking about the shell suits)! The Abbey grounds were massive and were like my own personal back garden. With that in mind, you probably won't be surprised to hear that I'd quite often sneak out of the house in the middle of the night to go exploring. I was definitely not a scared kid!
One particular night - I'll say it was winter but to be honest, I've no way of knowing for sure - I'd been playing around on the play area - swings and roundabouts and a soft mulch coating the ground, you know the type - before going to throw sticks into one of the lakes, or something similar. From the shore of this particular lake - the Lower Lake, I seem to recall, the one with the little island in the middle that to this day I've never set foot upon - one can quite clearly see the entire front of the now-ruined Abbey. It was a clear and cloudless night, that much I do remember, and in the light of the Moon I caught sight of something white moving reasonably quickly across the gravel drive.
Even at such a young age, I was acutely aware that someone or something walking upon gravel ought not be doing so silently so fearless kid that I was, I went in for a closer look and though she never turned in my direction, there is no doubt at all in my mind that what - or whom - I saw, complete with a flowing, if tattered, white dress, straggly hair and ridiculously pale skin (her arms were exposed, by design or otherwise) walking in perfect silence, was The White Lady.
Suffice it to say I didn't hang around and shortly thereafter, I was tucked up in bed hiding beneath my blankets!
***
Some years later, I'd guess I was twenty, I saw my second of those apparitions mentioned above. I had a girl in the car (I was twenty, after all), and we were going to Newstead Abbey with the intention of doing naughty things upon the ramparts of Byron's Fort. Apparently, he had that built upon the shore of the Upper Lake so he and his friends could stage mock naval battles.
Anyways, we were coming in the back entrance via Newstead Village as I knew the gates there were (and still are, one assumes) always open to permit residents twenty-four hour access to their homes.
Coming in from that direction, the driveway is about a mile and a half long and although there are one or two homes along it, the vast majority of the drive (or walk, if one is so inclined) is along a tarmac road, the edges of which are overgrown with all manner of thick, dense foliage. It's literally pitch black along there at night and without the aid of headlights or a torch, it's quite impossible to see much of anything at all.
Despite the impending naughtiness we were in no particular hurry. I've always enjoyed driving and the girl I was with at the time apparently had no issue sitting beside me chatting all manner of nonsense whilst I half-listened.
We hadn't been driving down the driveway for long though, when I became aware that she was no longer talking. Instead she was staring out beyond the light cast by the headlights at what very much appeared to be a light swinging back and forth.
My first assumption, of course, was that said light was a torch, and that someone was making their way along the road on foot, but it soon became apparent that was not the case.
I'm sure it didn't happen all of a sudden, but that's how it felt. One moment there was the light swinging back and forth, the next we caught a glimpse of a horse and carriage, complete with the clip-clop of hooves upon tarmac. It did not appear ghostly or incorporeal in any way, at least not until it passed through the car, through us, as if we weren't even there.
It's an incredibly odd feeling when an apparition passes through you. It's not something I've experienced since but the sensation of feeling both hot and cold at the same time, not to mention the sweat that seemed to seep from my every pore, is something I'll likely never forget.
You'll be pleased to know, I'm sure, that the promised rampart-based naughtiness did occur shortly thereafter, as this particular encounter with the supernatural most definitely proved to be somewhat of an aphrodisiac, though not before a couple of cigarettes worth of contemplative silence was observed!
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
