It was during a recent break at Porlock Wier in the beautiful county of Somerset. That my good lady and I took the opportunity to spend time with friends in a charming little cottage overlooking the bay. One morning whilst deciding what to do with our day. I started thumbing through a pile of fliers of things to do in Somerset. As I began sifting one caught my eye - Chambercombe Manor, Ilfracombe; which proclaimed to be 'one of the most haunted houses in England;' how many times have I heard that one. Not one to be discourage by such claims, it was decided by all that we should visit this most haunted of establishments.
On arrival, we parked up and walked the short distance to the Manor, passing a little gift shop on the way. I poked my head in briefly and made a mental note to call in on the way back as there appeared to be a large number of books about ghosts. Can't resist books about ghosts.
The Manor is a pretty unassuming building, quaint in the traditional English fashion, set in a valley surround by woods. It's mentioned in the Domesday Book, where records show an entry for 1066. Further records indicate ownership by Henry Champernon; Lord of the Manor of Ilfrecombe in 1162. It is uncertain when the Manor fell from is grandeur and became a farmhouse but it still retains much of its original features.
We deciding to join a guided tour; duration approximately 50 minutes. You can wonder round on your own at certain times but I would strongly advise the guided tour if you want to know about the Manor's fascinating history and of course its plethora of ghost stories.
Each room has its own ghost story. For example, in The Great Hall where the tour starts, A very stern looking gentleman, sporting a black beard with deep penetrating eyes thought to be a Quaker, marches purposely up and down the room as if agitated or angry. It was also interesting to note that on the oak refectory table - circa 1650 which dominates the room, there is a book of accounts by staff and visitors who claim to have witnessed strange and unexplained phenomena. Makes for absorbing reading let me tell you.
Leaving the Great Hall, we passed the Balcony Room with its oak staircase. On occasion, there are some who claim to have been prevented from climbing the stairs, almost as if there were an invisible barrier blocking their way.
The Chippendale Room has probably the most active of all the Manor's ghosts. A six year old girl called Ellie is said to have died of consumption in this room. Her ghost has been seen and felt many times. She will often follow visitors tugging at their clothing. She has also been seen standing at the window. I asked our guide if she had seen Ellie to which she replied "on several occasions." What did she look like? I enquired. "She is solid in appearance, with ringlets in her hair, a blue dress with puff sleeves and a solemn expression."
In The Tudor Room, there is a 17th century oak cradle which has been seen to rock gentle as if pushed by unseen hands. Perhaps this rocking motion is to encourage a ghostly infant to slumber. Some visitors have complained of feeling nauseous and dizzy here. Some have even fainted. It is said, though not proven, that Lady Jane Grey as a child may have stayed at the Manor and slept in this room. After the Champerons' left the Manor, it was sold to Sir William Bonville and on his death in 1461 to Cecily, wife of Sir Thomas Grey. Little did the Greys' imagine their great-granddaughter would one day be Queen if only for nine days. Her ghost, not unsurprisingly does not haunt Chambercombe.
There are five steps which lead from the Tudor Room along a passage to the Victorian Room. Between the two is where a hidden room was found in 1738. Part of the room has been opened to reveal where the skeleton of a woman was found. Her story is one of tragedy, but more of her later. In this passage visitors have reported seeing three ghostly men. One in uniform, whilst the other two are thought to be smugglers.
Meanwhile, moving on to The Victorian Room, a woman lies on the bed looking worse for wear whilst a doting male looks on. Any attempt to approach the bed is met with 'disturbances,' such as the clock door opening of its own accord and curtain rings spinning. At times an unpleasant odour has been noticed.
From the Victorian Room we descended a flight of wooden steps to the Kitchen. Within the large fireplace there is a clockwork spit said to rotate of its own accord. Indeed while we were there one visitor pointed out that a pot suspended on a chair was moving. I must confess I had already noticed this but gave it little credence as the movement was so slight it could have been attributed to any number of sources. The spirit of a small boy is thought to be responsible for the rotating spit. He has been seen sitting in the cramped space above the bread oven. A thankless task when you consider the space he had to squeeze in to.
Back to the hidden room. In 1738, the then owner -Jan Vye was about to undertake some roof repairs when he noticed the outline of a window where there was no room associated with it. Somewhat intrigued, Jan examined all the windows internally, he knew there were four but how to place the mysterious fifth.
Striding along the passage mentioned earlier, he stopped at his bedroom where the outline of the window would seem to align. This would indicated there was a room immediately on the other side of his bedroom wall. He started tapping the wall until dull sounds turned to an empty reverberating hollow.
He called to his wife and explained what he had found. Ignoring her protests he dashed outside to find his pick. Several blows to the wall revealed a hole big enough to light a candle and step through. With his wife in step behind they entered the cramped, chilly space. The air smelt damp and musty. In the gloom cast by the candle Jan could just make out a small bed draped in faded tapestries. As they stepped closer Jan's wife, looking over his shoulder whispered, "Draw un then Jan," Not one to disobey his wife Jan clutched at the hangings and pulled the coverings away. Jan's wife shirked, while Jan let out a gasp of horror, for on the pillow lay a yellowed with age grinning skull, while a skeletal hand lay across the body gripping the bed linen.
It is thought the skeleton belonged to Kate Oatway the daughter of William Oatway, son of Alexander Oatway. Alexander Oatway occupied the Manor in the 1600s. He was a respectable and influential character. But times were hard and money short. He fell in with a band of roughnecks who's nocturnal pursuits were a little outside the law. For they were wreckers, who would lure ships onto the rocks in the dead of night, then pillage what they could from that washed up on shore.
Alexander's wife died leaving him with a son - William, who by all accounts was a young man of little restraint. One stormy night, curious of his fathers late night activities he followed him into the gloom. Thunderclouds gathered as the wind whipped the sea into a maelstrom, the bay illuminated by flashes of lightening. William concealed himself behind some rocks away from the biting cold and lashing rain.
Out in the bay a ship rolled precariously in the swell. William heard his father give the command to his cohorts to light their lanterns, an act which Oatway knew would be seen by the ships lookout as a signal to dock for the night, mistaking the lights for Ilfracombe Harbour. The string of lights lured the ship towards the rocks, where the hull was breached. Screams where carried away on the wind as the broken ship was tossed like a toy boat.
William, after witnessing such horrors could not bring himself to stay at Chambercombe. He went to live with his Aunt and Uncle in Cornwall. where he met and married Ellen who gave birth to their daughter - Kate.
Many years later Kate was to fall in love with a naval officer - Duncan Wallis, an upstanding young man from a wealthy family. After a short courtship they married and set sail for a new life in Dublin; Duncan's home town. Kate promised to visit her parents soon.
It was shortly after Kate's' departure that William heard of his fathers' death. William returned to Chambercombe with Ellen to claim his inheritance. What he found saddened him, for the house had been neglected and was in desperate need of repair. Ellen watched for days in despair while her husband tried his best to make good repairs with the little money they had. Her only comfort was the impending visit from Kate.
In 1695 a stormy night would see a ship dashed against the rocks. William was to witness this disaster from the shore where he watched to see if any ships were in distress. Carried on the wind and the crash of the surf he heard a woman's screams. Following her cry's he wading into the swell. There, sprawled on the rocks he saw a her. Her broken body, her face unrecognizable, such were her injuries. In a desperate effort to save her life he carried her back the Manor where he lay her on a bed. Efforts to save her life failed and she died of her injuries. He search the body for any identification but instead found money and jewels, enough riches to repair the Manor. With a heavy heart they decided to pocket the riches and conceal the body behind the a wall in what is now the Hidden Room.
The story does not end there. Shorty after the tragedy William overheard a conversation in the local tavern and discovered to his horror that the ship had carried one female passenger, that passenger was Kate Wallis, wife of Captain Wallis and William's daughter. She had been keeping her promise to visit her parents.
The sound of a woman sobbing coming from the area of the Hidden Room it believed to be Kate Wallis.
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