Things that go Bump on the Pantiles
It was a cold, dark and stormy Sunday night and a full moon was shining down between the clouds. If that's not a night to stay on the sofa with a glass of wine I don't know what is, but I managed to persuade my wife to accompany me on a trip down to the Pantiles to join a ghost walk.
Looking at the weather we were wondering if we would be the only people to turn up, and looking up and down the Pantiles as we waited it seemed more and more likely that would be the case. But we need not have worried because come exactly 7:30 a quite impressive crowd of people had joined us.
"But a ghost walk is nothing without a small play by the local dramatic society is it" I hear you cry, well exactly, that's why before we could all indulge in the spooks and ghoulies that we had trudged out in the cold damp night for, a woman dressed in bizarre rags boomed at us to form a circle.
We were then subjected to the story of St. Dunstan and the Devil, the story being that our spring water is coloured from the Devil's nose being plunged into the spring after St. Dunstan clamped his red hot tongs around it.
The play was amusing enough, and when it was over we all turned our attention to our spine-chilling host Geoff who was to walk us all up and down the Pantiles and introduce us to the 24 ghosts that live there (the most in Kent I am led to believe).
From the fantastic ghostly carpenters that haunt pub cellars, long since deceased guests that walk through hotel walls, hangman's nooses that you can hear swinging in the wind and pained lovers' deathly cries from balconies, to the rather-hard-to-believe noises in closed shops that was probably kids shoplifting and smell of smoke from a place where no-one smoked that was probably Bob the security guard having a sneaky fag, the tour was enjoyable and well worth the wait in the cold.
I was half expecting a man dressed in a white sheet to jump out of a dark alley and scare us, but alas nothing, perhaps I should suggest it for next time. Geoff was very enthusiastic about his tour and remarked that he is very proud of his ghosts, "we even hope to have more one day", that just about sums it up. Next time the tour is on I suggest you get yourself down to the Pantiles and tag along.
I used to live on Woodbury Park Road (1980-1990), which also has a couple of ghosts. I lived opposite one, and next to the other, both of which we believed to be related. In the mid-1800's there was a orphange opposite our house (number 19). Unless it has changed it's use, there is now an old peoples home on the site.
Sadly the orphange was burned down, with many of the children being burnt alive. It has been said that one of the staff gathered the children together in a room and had them sing as the building burnt, since there was no hope for escape and to try to stop the children from panicking. Some evenings you can still hear their singing. Now, I'm a fairly even headed chap, but I must confess I have heard the singing, both before I knew of the orphanage and after. It's not loud, and you cannot make it out very clearly, it is like distant singing in a classroom - you cannot really tell the melody, but it is definately children. I couldn't tell you time of year, but the times of day I heard it were early evening, and it was audible whilst walking up from Dunstan Road.
So that was opposite; next to us at number 21 was a 'grey lady' who appeared and vanished in an upper room. One of the children of our neighbour had said to her mother not long after moving in that she didn't like sleeping in her room, since sometimes a 'grey lady' appeared. Our neighbour couldn't work out what she was talking about, until one day whilst cleaning the room she saw it herself just appearing and silently disappeared. Apparently it didn't move, just stood there, a lady in victorian dress. It is thought that she was either the person who was in charge of the orphanage, or the one who lead the singing (or both!). An exorcist was called in, but she still appeared intermittently, and other peculiar things happened in the house, but the lady is the most substantive thing.
Our house and number 21 (along with about 6 other semis) were built in 1885, a while after the fire; so exactly what building was on the site of our house we couldn't be certain (tho' I'm sure the town plans would be available for the curious!).
If you felt really bold you could knock on the door of number 21 and ask if the 'grey lady' is still there! I don't know who lives there now (Jo and Trevor moved out some years ago), but I expect my ex-stepfather John Pratt is still resident in number 19...
ATB
”DSP
Comment left by Duncan Parsons on January, 31 2007