Newport. Sun Inn. Ghosts of the Isle of Wight, with Margo Williams
The Haunted House on Holyrood Street
Of course Number 28 Holyrood Street has a dark story, an old tale of homicide.
It also possessed macabre exhibits. An old bl.odstained night-gown found hidden behind a chimney in a secret room boarded up and wallpapered over. The item tight-bound inside a mysterious rag-bundle of shoes.
A single leather boot also was recovered from under a floorboard. And an Army issue Pillbox hat dating to the mid 1800s.
The building dates to the 1600s. Originally a private house of a wealthy entrepreneur it later opened as a hostelry to the public under the name Sun Inn.
Exclusive and expensive; visiting royalty stayed here and VIP balls and parties were held in its assembly rooms.
That glory has long faded, its doors finally closed to the public in 1976. Instead this house in Holyrood Street rotted into a reputation as the most terrifying haunted house in Newport.
Gay Baldwin in the magnificent Ghosts of the Isle of Wight series investigated the multitude of frightening experiences by the residents, and related the work of a psychic medium who through psychometry on one of the recovered items, the shoe, reconstructed a narrative of the homicide victims, a young couple named Francesca and Ralph.
Old Sun Inn. Unsolved Mysteries Isle of Wight
Some unhappy residents blamed these for the frightening incidents, noises and assaults. Other paranormalists raised the possibility of poltergeists.
A cleansing by a psychic and her team of personal guides was effected, and those present experienced an energy wave exit through the doorway. Most assumed it was the unlucky couple leaving the building.
However, someone or something remained to cause trouble.
I wanted to attempt to engage and so discover why the house remained haunted. Surprised to find so many ghosts still active, a quartet no less.
Ghosts of the Old Sun Inn
The first to speak during my investigation of this haunted house was a woman with a tale to tell, as tragic as Ralph and Francesca's.
I waited in the ground floor room, quiet. Pencil sharpened, blank sheet of paper ready. Felt the ghost come close.
"Tell me of yourself," I asked, inviting response.
“... Thirty years of hell with the man I hated!” she said. “He r...d me when I was but a girl, redeemed himself by marrying me, as I be with child. Yet, he made my life hell. He be.t me and each time he came upon me at night it was like being r...d over again.
Hated him. Went to church like all the Christian folk of the town, yet my prayers for his de.th were never answered."
She paused momentarily on that neglect.
"I tried so hard to live a decent life, bringing the children up well, but failed, as I k.ll.d him. St.bbed him one night with a kitchen knife through his heart, then ended me own life as would never face the gallows.
I were a coward, yet it were me that became a ghost. Should have been him.
No regrets. Me name is Margaret. Thank you for your help, you show me the way to the next world. Goodbye.”
And then she was gone.
The Poltergeist Problem
My guess is, Margaret the m.rderess was not the malevolent ‘poltergeist’ of this Holyrood hell-house though she had cause enough to rant from time to time and even vent her frustration on the fixtures and fittings.
She confessed to a homicide, but chances are was not responsible for the worst of the haunting activity, that probably was Martha.
The Problem with Ghosts
Some ghosts do have ability to manipulate matter, some can move objects.
Others have more subtle influence by stirring up negativity and bad temper which when frayed by normal everyday problems can make things seem more gloomy and depressing.
The second ghost was the more likely rogue for such activity. She actually managed to assault me with a scratch to the face and it was visible for several days afterwards; though she did express some remorse.
Martha probably was responsible for the most frightening happenings in the Old Sun Inn, and the reason why no one living stayed for long in that building.
Not even brave Benedicts.
Ghosts are Atmospheric Photographs
One ‘scientific’ explanation recently offered for ghosts is that they are atmospheric photographs, products of emotionally-charged moments captured within the atmosphere of a site.
An electromagnetic imprint that can replay what has happened before, to be glimpsed from time to time by a person sensitive or unlucky enough to pick up on it at the right moment.
A good theory say others, but this cannot account for the most common ghostly encounter when, soon after de.th, a friend or relative appears to a witness as if they have come to say a last ‘goodbye’.
To date, no one has captured a ‘live’ ghost and persuaded them to hold a press conference on prime time television; and so science mostly asserts there is no such thing as a ghost in the machine of the body to journey on after death or stick around to haunt the living.
The majority of people in the modern world feel comfortable in accepting this, and instead of dwelling upon life after de.th, focus on the life ahead; which is sensible, wholesome and worthy.
We should instead think of a new car, new house, a new career: things that are real.
The 'Sweet Finale' Hallucination
Until an advert pops up for funeral arrangements or life insurance and for a moment perhaps you and I wonder what happens when all we think we are, all we can feel and scratch and caress and pinch is dissolved into mud and sludge.
Or blowing in the wind in the crematorium garden.
Is it merely wishful thinking to wonder if there is more to life than de.th?
And those people who, by lucky chance, survive accident or illness and wake up in their hospital bed to tell those nearest and dearest gathered with goodwill grapes and get well cards; of how they had a near-death experience in St. Mary's hospital ICU.
Of how he or she heard the beep of their flat-line state of de.th but watched their own resuscitation from an unexpected ‘second-person’ perspective.
They are told by those who insist this cannot happen, that they had not become a temporary ghost but experienced an hallucination.
Sometimes curious survivors ask: ‘How can a dead brain hallucinate?’
ONLY TO BE TOLD such experiences are just the final transmissions of their consciousness, on facing its own oblivion.
Exactly how long a mind may continue such transmission after death has not yet been measured in terms of seconds, minutes or hours.
These theories assure us that independent, walking, talking, door-opening, button-switching, shelf of glasses smashing ghosts do not exist; it is the imagination of the living which credits the dead with this ability.
And such reassurance is good and comforting, until in the middle of the night a ghostly figure wafts into your bedroom, screams and slaps your face, as so often happened in the Old Sun Inn.
Poltergeist Got Issues
Martha the second ghost to speak, poor lost soul, couldn’t help herself. It was something she just had to do:
“... My name is Martha, please set me free,” she pleaded. “I was a traitor to my master who was a titled gentleman, and to the king. Was a servant in this house. I received nothing but kindness here, which I repaid with evil gossip, causing misery to those who lived here and employed me.
She sounded excited and unhappy at the same time.
"Ne’er a day went by after much sorrow. I regretted my wickedness. Tried to confess on my de.th-bed, yet no words came. Now have done more harm by marking you, who is kind enough to listen. I ask forgiveness as I go to be judged. Am released from this prison of guilt. Farewell.”
I had time just to sharpen my pencil, before the ghostly Jack took over from Martha. The ghost of a Sun Inn publican.
How he managed this strong spirit ménage, is anyone’s guess.
“... Used to run this place as a haven for tired men who needed a good tankard of ale away from the nagging of their women,” said he with a sigh. “Knew all about females, married to a woman who was always cursing me and anyone who got in her way.
I kept her away from serving. Had a handsome young fellow to help me, he could laugh with the men.
There were many stories told about this place, 'haunted' they said. Some said it was a young man who roamed around lamenting for his lost lover."
Ralph and Francesca?
"Others said it was King Charles who had been at the castle and who came here. But I did not believe in any of these stories. Why should any man haunt a place looking for any woman? They are all best left alone.
And as for a king, why should he come here to stay? No such thing as ghosts. But what a mistake I made! Even blacked a man’s eye in a row about the king. Would have none of that silly talk here."
I heard a rueful sigh.
"My wife said she had seen two ghosts, one man and one woman. I went to give her a beating but she just hit out at me and nagged all the more! God left me here after I drew my last breath. Find myself talking to a woman who has a power to help me and does not nag me. Hard to believe. Jack’s the name.”
Then he was gone. He didn't claim to have worn a Pillbox hat; but the last of the ghostly quartet knew of the hidden room and a king of England conundrum.
The Ghost in the King's Room
The Sun Inn's oldest serving ghost might be Martha, and the reason why so many warding shoes were needed in the old Sun Inn.
The last ghost to speak to me that day had lived here a long time too, and doubtless on frustrated occasion felt moved to spook the living in cruel conspiracy with Martha.
He knew something not so widely known; though what that secret was, will have to remain so for a while longer.
Or perhaps keeping a secret too long can drive you crazy:
“... We tried to keep it a secret, yet it seems we failed,” he whispered. “The good folk here had left but methinks they left the ghosts of many behind. We tried so hard but it was still remembered.
A great man had been here, a king, I tell you good mistress. A king to be hidden from memories of the folk of this town. One who was executed. Yea, I know. Me name is Richard, a name to be reckoned with, a great name."
He paused, reflective on that glory.
"The ghosts of so many roam this house," he continued. "So different now. Ah! Wine from many parts of the world, ales it were afore that.
Have been trapped by my lies. Keeping the secret so no one would be harmed as folk have long memories. I would have said 'Long live the King!' I am leaving the secret behind. No one found the secret room which is no more. Thanks be to thee for helping me out of this place. The secret is out, cannot be kept.”
Ghostly Richard’s post-death brain transmission evidently continued well beyond seconds and minutes. It has survived for centuries.
His testimony may, or may not, contribute something useful to the debate over where King Charles stayed in Newport.
And maybe Margaret's confession explains something else. Maybe the blo.dstained gown was a desperate token among the shoes, to ward away the ill-fortune of her frustrated afterlife.
But probably too much coincidence to assume that hat belonged to the ghostly landlord who didn't believe in ghosts.
Thank you for your company on this short tour of Isle of Wight mysteries and haunting. If you would like to know more about Margo Williams' investigations in Newport and other royals and rogues, read this book. Now available from Amazon.
