'Onwards We Go'- The Lesser Known Ghost's Of Shropshire

  I want to share with you some ghost stories. You can imagine that we’re sat round a fire if you like, or in some archaic place. We will certainly be discussing some. I want you to get comfortable perhaps with a blanket or hot drink and experience these anecdotes. What will they mean to you? time will tell. Its autumn here, the sky is a thousand shades of grey, and my mind is inexplicably drawn to them, those spirits that haunt the Shropshire landscape. They will be the subject of the following writings, their lives, and their haunted roots. You don’t have to believe… not yet- Just read ahead, take in these narratives, and let us both explore the beyond the veil, to Shropshire we go, and seek audience with its restless dead. 

Plaish Hall was always a luxurious place. Now a private dwelling, It was built in 1580, and was once home to William Leighton, who was the chief justice and one of the ‘Hanging Judges’ (alongside Judge Jeffries) known as so for their proclivity to put people to death.  They did so with such a vigour and zeal, that it is said many innocent people lost their lives. I suppose with this our first tale begins.  For Plaish hall is said to be haunted by a man who suffered at the hands of Sir William Leighton.  Upon moving into the property, Sir William was keen to have the old stone building rebuilt in brick, and in particular, oversee the construction of some ornate chimney stacks. An important man like him needed to have his finger on the pulse of all things deemed fashionable after all.  So, he enquired where he might find such a builder to the high sheriff, who informed him that such a builder did indeed exist in the county, however Sir William had sentenced him to death. (the Story does not give details regarding the builder’s crime, however some versions suggest he was wrongly convicted, so we can only assume such a detail) Sir William Leighton requested an audience with the Builder, who upon arrival threw himself at the mercy of the judge, begging him for a pardon. He told the judge that if he was given the chance, he would build Sir William the finest chimneys in the whole of Shropshire and do so with record timing. Sir William must have really wanted his chimneys, as he agreed to spare the builders life in exchange for the building work. The builder set to work, and in no real time he’d completed the job. And they were marvellous! However, Sir William’s promise was not to be. For as soon as the job was completed, he ordered the builders eyes to be put out, and in a cruel twist of irony- for him to be hung from the same chimneys that he’d been so eager to build. Some versions of the story suggest that the builder’s corpse was entombed in the chimney stack, with the rope still around his neck.  So, there should be no surprise when you find out that the builder’s spirit still resides in Plaish Hall. There have been numerous sightings of his restless ghost wandering the halls, perhaps seeking Sir William for answers. He is often still blinded, and sometimes accompanied by an unidentified woman, who wanders by his side- perhaps as she’d done in life. That is not the only evidence of the builder’s spirit still being attached to the property- for the Chimney is said to bleed, dripping blood down the brickwork and onto the floor below.

Plaish Hall also played host to the Devil once. (He seems to spend a fair bit of time in Shropshire, as you may have read in one of my previous posts) The story starts with a group of clergymen descending onto the hall one Sunday night, for an evening of gaming and merriment. They were enjoying themselves greatly and decided to play some cards. As they began to play the game they were stricken in fright, by the sight of none other than the Devil Himself. The group of clergymen ran away in fright, away from the hall, but one man was frozen stiff with fear, and was left alone with the devil. When the clergymen eventually returned to the hall, their friend was nowhere to be seem, and in his place, a man-sized blood stain was found on the floor. This blood stain was said to never be washed away.

Weston Rhyn is a quiet place, though a large village. It’s been the site of human habitation since the Domesday book at least, and it’s the home of our next spectre. Not much is known about the ghost, other than he was a young man from the village, and he’d served in the army during WW1. Like many young soldiers, He had become gravely injured after a gas attack, which left his lungs badly burnt, and gave him great difficulty breathing. Understandably, he was deemed unfit for service, and sent home to get rest and recuperate, after getting medical attention. However, a mere two months later, he succumbed to his injuries.  Unfortunately, this poor soul was not allowed to rest easy, for he haunts the village, and country lanes nearby, restless. He isn’t often seen, but when he has appeared, he is said to be accompanied by a deep melancholy. My heart goes out to this poor phantom, and I wonder how many other villages are haunted by similar entities.

Let’s go to Shrewsbury now, to witness its spectral past. There’s a lot of history here, and no doubt as many ghosts. Perhaps its most famous haunting is Shrewsbury Castles ‘Bloody Jack’ though I am not going to discuss him here (I’ve covered him in previous posts). Rather, I want to turn our attention to the others, I want to tell their stories.

The Darwin Shopping centre is in the heart of Shrewsbury town. (There used to be a cracking goth shop there in the early 2000s, which I often frequented). During the construction of the building, a rather tragic ghost was unearthed. The builders began hearing strange, unexplained noises. They felt uneasy in certain areas of the construction site. Then, she began to manifest. The builders on the night shift began to report sightings of a young milkmaid, carrying with her a yolk and pail. She would walk around the building site, as if in a trance and repeat -

“Weight and measure sold I ever,

Milk and water sold I never”

 

Again, and again and again. When they would approach her, she would disappear. This unnerved the men so much that several refused to carry out the work. When this apparition was looked into, it was discovered that there had been a milkmaid sentenced to death in 1600 for supposedly selling watered down milk. She had pleaded her innocence throughout the short trial and vowed to haunt the spot to prove herself free from wrong.  Perhaps she was trying to get the builders on her side, in hope she could finally clear her name.

Further spooks can be found in the Shrewsbury pub ‘Ye Old Bucks Head inn’. This is the site of several hauntings, including the two that I am going to mention. I’ve chosen these because they were both striking and demonstrated the level of history such a building contains. It’s been an Inn since the 17^th century, and the site served the community in one way or another for a long time before that. So, you can imagine all of the lives that have passed through its doors.

We begin our ghost story at the time of the Great Plague. When the plague came to Shrewsbury a second time, it was believed to have been introduced by one man- A traveller who fell ill soon after arriving.  (this plague would prove disastrous for Shropshire, as it’s thought the county lost up to a third of its population) He received great hospitality and was nursed by the local people. However, died not live long after arriving. Unfortunately, those who’d looked after the fella, were bitten by the disease-ridden fleas or were infected virally, and succumbed to the plague themselves, not before spreading it throughout Shrewsbury and its surrounding areas.

Though the epicentre of the new outbreak, many people sent their children to the Bucks head inn, seeing it as a place of safety and sanctuary away from the spreading plague, for they knew they would receive care and be looked after. However, these children were already sick, and unfortunately died of this blight. However, their souls have not left the building. In the private quarters often they are heard, laughing- as if in happier times. There have been reports of full apparitions, including seeing the happy children playing outside the windows, only for it to quickly change. Soon after seeing them play, they appear at the windows, scratching at them, clearly in distress, with mouths agape, as if screaming for help. The most distressing thing about this visitation is that the poor children’s voices are never heard.

A further spirit is that of a man, who has been seen for years in one of the bathrooms of Ye Old Bucks Head Inn. He appears at the sink, in period dress, and is seen washing his hands furiously, as if they can never be clean. This apparition poses more questions than it answers, who was this man, and what had he done to make him act such a way?

The battle of Shrewsbury was an important event in British history for a number of reasons. It was the first battle in which English archers fought each other on English soil, and it solidified the effectiveness of the Longbow, as well as ending the Percy threat to King Henry IV of England. It was also the sight of much death. Indeed, chroniclers argued that it was one of the bloodiest battles ever fought on English Soil, and though difficult to predict decisively it’s a fair estimate that anywhere around 3000 casualties lost their lives on that field.  Such a scale of loss cannot leave the land unmarked, and many found themselves in a mass grave, not too far from the scene. And, a mere 2 years after the battle, the dead were seen again.  There are a number of accounts of ghostly sightings, of ethereal groups of men, women and children moving across the battlefield, only to disappear into the mists. Perhaps this is an example of collective memory, or manifestations of collective trauma from such a monumental event, however, there have also been modern day sightings of similar entities, as well as solitary apparitions still wandering that bloodstained battlefield, suggesting that though we cannot know everything about the battle, The land remembers.

Let us follow the river Severn now, down to Jackfield, where we will finish our tales. It’s the destination of the ghost barge after all- which still winds its way down through Ironbridge, piled high with the bodies of plague victims, to be buried in the mass graves of Jackfield.  So, lets follow it. Notice the landscape changing, the reminders of industrialisation which stand like phantoms in their own right. It’s beautiful- isn’t it? and somehow, you feel even closer to the past.  Jackfield is the site of another sad tale, and a pair of child ghosts.

The tale takes place on Ferry road, during the 1850s. Two children, twins were playing outside, not too far from the river. They were greatly enjoying themselves, however, there soon became a problem. One of the children fell into the river and wasn’t a very good swimmer. Their sibling quickly jumped to their aid, but unfortunately fell in. both children struggled with the river’s current, but sadly lost their lives. One can only imagine the level of pain such a loss would have caused the local community. The children are said to haunt the house that their bodies were taken to, and also the banks of the Severn, perhaps trying to warn people away from the River. 

And I think that is a good place to end our tales, though be sure there are more to be told. It’s important to remember that behind these stories are real people, whose lives were cut short by traumatic events and the machinations of power. Genuine hauntings or not, one must understand that these stories stem from a desire to remember, and an attempt to understand the unexplainable, to conceptualise what happens after death. I hope they have been interesting to you, and will perhaps encourage further exploration...