EGGLESTONE ABBEY
Visited 6 August 2005
Historic County Durham is home to many magnificent buildings such as Durham Cathedral and Durham Castle. It also has many supposed haunted locations. Tonight, as the sky slowly gets darker and the rain lashes down, I will head south and investigate two of them – The tranquil Egglestone Abbey and the intimidating Bowes Castle.
Standing on the borders of Yorkshire and County Durham is a ruined, late 12th century Premonstratensian abbey. A large central section of the abbey is now virtually non-existent but there is still quite a lot of it remaining. The majority of what still stands is from when the original church was enlarged and rebuilt roughly one hundred years after the construction of the abbey. The centre of the church, known as the crossing, has almost completely gone apart from one wall of the south transept dating from 1275. Despite this central 'gap', the remaining walls of the church all stand to a good height and, with some imagination, it is possible to visualise what a magnificent building this must have been.
Egglestone was yet another 'border' abbey to suffer the financial blows of various wars and disputes throughout the Middle Ages and, consequently, much repair and reconstruction has taken place over the years. The abbey was dissolved in 1540 and, it is believed, shortly afterwards the church tower was demolished because it spoiled the view from the old monastic buildings which had, by now, been converted into residential dwellings.
Where the east claustral range once stood now lie the remains of what appears to be an Elizabethan manor house, but with some evidence still existing of its monastic beginnings. The site has passed through many different hands during the last 450 years, and the buildings have suffered as a result of so many conversions. Even into the beginning of the 20th century, some of the stones were quarried away for use as local building materials.
Egglestone was yet another 'border' abbey to suffer the financial blows of various wars and disputes throughout the Middle Ages and, consequently, much repair and reconstruction has taken place over the years. The abbey was dissolved in 1540 and, it is believed, shortly afterwards the church tower was demolished because it spoiled the view from the old monastic buildings which had, by now, been converted into residential dwellings.
Where the east claustral range once stood now lie the remains of what appears to be an Elizabethan manor house, but with some evidence still existing of its monastic beginnings. The site has passed through many different hands during the last 450 years, and the buildings have suffered as a result of so many conversions. Even into the beginning of the 20th century, some of the stones were quarried away for use as local building materials.
In the 1300s a novice monk named Brother Martin lived happily at Egglestone Abbey. The monks were allowed to leave the abbey to go for walks, or go fishing in the nearby river. One moonlit evening the monk decided to go for a walk along the riverside. He met a young girl who tried to talk to Martin but he turned and fled from the young lady, so as to not break his vows.
For the next couple of weeks Martin never ventured from the abbey, but he couldn’t get the young girls smile and piercing eyes out of his mind. Eventually it proved too much for him and he went for a stroll along the Tees, the same time and same route as he had previously taken. Sure enough he met the girl again but this time he did talk, he apologised for his previous behaviour and they talked and laughed for hours til it had became dark. They promised to meet again the next evening.
They met the next evening, and the evening after that, and the one after that, and eventually they became lovers. They met every night at their secret place under the trees next to the river. Eventually though Martin had a feeling of guilt whenever he wasn’t with her. He confided in another monk who was getting worried by Martin’s unusual behaviour and his pale complexion, he decided to go and see Martin one night and as he approached Martin’s cell he heard weeping. He entered the cell and asked Martin what was wrong. Martin confessed his misdeed and was advised to stop these meetings at once, from that moment on he shouldn’t leave the abbey grounds and he should tell of his wrong doings to the Father Superior.
For several weeks Martin remained in his cell, sobbing and praying for forgiveness for his sins. One stormy evening it all became too much for the monk, he ran from his cell out towards the secret place in the hope of seeing the girl. Sure enough she was there waiting for him, as she had done every night ever since their last meeting. She was overcome with joy when she saw him approaching, but he was sweating, he was pale and breathless. She asked if he was ok, if he had been ill. She asked why he looked at her in such an intense manner. He suddenly lost it, he grabbed her shouting at her, accusing her of being evil, sent from the devil to tempt him. He lashed out at her, screaming in rage. She tried to run, terrified that the man she loved had gone mad. He caught her and wrestled her to the ground, she was screaming for help but no one was around. He told her to be quiet, her screams continued, his hands found her throat and soon enough she was silent. He had killed her.
The Tees were in full flow as the rain came down and the wind roared. Sobbing Martin dragged her lifeless body to the waters edge and threw her in. For a minute or two she floated on the water’s surface and then the rush of the water took her body under and away forever.
Wet, shaking and mumbling hysterically the monk staggered back up to the abbey. His absence from prayed the following morning didn’t go unnoticed and the monks found Martin in his cell, delirious with fever and gravely ill. His habit was torn, soaked through and covered in leaves and grass. The monks couldn’t understand how he was in this condition. With their care Martin recovered within a week, but he would not talk. No matter how often the monks tried to converse with Martin he wouldn’t utter one word.
Then one evening there was a great storm, lighting illuminating the sky, and thunder crashing loudly above the abbey. Martin clambered out of his bed, and in a trace-like state he left the abbey towards the Tees for one last time. He headed to their secret place. On his knees, as the rain lashed down and the sky lit up with the constant flash of lighting he prayed to God for forgiveness then he snapped. He ran down the steep slope and threw himself, with a great scream, into the merciless waters below.
Now this may just seem like a story passed down from generation to generation of locals in the area, but how does that explain the regular sighting of a ghostly monk seen moving around the ruins or sometimes rushing down from the abbey to the Tees just as dusk approaches. When the river is in flood a monk and a ghostly young lady are often seen drifting above the water. Much more often however, you can hear screams of agony coming from the steep banks of the Tees.
For the next couple of weeks Martin never ventured from the abbey, but he couldn’t get the young girls smile and piercing eyes out of his mind. Eventually it proved too much for him and he went for a stroll along the Tees, the same time and same route as he had previously taken. Sure enough he met the girl again but this time he did talk, he apologised for his previous behaviour and they talked and laughed for hours til it had became dark. They promised to meet again the next evening.
They met the next evening, and the evening after that, and the one after that, and eventually they became lovers. They met every night at their secret place under the trees next to the river. Eventually though Martin had a feeling of guilt whenever he wasn’t with her. He confided in another monk who was getting worried by Martin’s unusual behaviour and his pale complexion, he decided to go and see Martin one night and as he approached Martin’s cell he heard weeping. He entered the cell and asked Martin what was wrong. Martin confessed his misdeed and was advised to stop these meetings at once, from that moment on he shouldn’t leave the abbey grounds and he should tell of his wrong doings to the Father Superior.
For several weeks Martin remained in his cell, sobbing and praying for forgiveness for his sins. One stormy evening it all became too much for the monk, he ran from his cell out towards the secret place in the hope of seeing the girl. Sure enough she was there waiting for him, as she had done every night ever since their last meeting. She was overcome with joy when she saw him approaching, but he was sweating, he was pale and breathless. She asked if he was ok, if he had been ill. She asked why he looked at her in such an intense manner. He suddenly lost it, he grabbed her shouting at her, accusing her of being evil, sent from the devil to tempt him. He lashed out at her, screaming in rage. She tried to run, terrified that the man she loved had gone mad. He caught her and wrestled her to the ground, she was screaming for help but no one was around. He told her to be quiet, her screams continued, his hands found her throat and soon enough she was silent. He had killed her.
The Tees were in full flow as the rain came down and the wind roared. Sobbing Martin dragged her lifeless body to the waters edge and threw her in. For a minute or two she floated on the water’s surface and then the rush of the water took her body under and away forever.
Wet, shaking and mumbling hysterically the monk staggered back up to the abbey. His absence from prayed the following morning didn’t go unnoticed and the monks found Martin in his cell, delirious with fever and gravely ill. His habit was torn, soaked through and covered in leaves and grass. The monks couldn’t understand how he was in this condition. With their care Martin recovered within a week, but he would not talk. No matter how often the monks tried to converse with Martin he wouldn’t utter one word.
Then one evening there was a great storm, lighting illuminating the sky, and thunder crashing loudly above the abbey. Martin clambered out of his bed, and in a trace-like state he left the abbey towards the Tees for one last time. He headed to their secret place. On his knees, as the rain lashed down and the sky lit up with the constant flash of lighting he prayed to God for forgiveness then he snapped. He ran down the steep slope and threw himself, with a great scream, into the merciless waters below.
Now this may just seem like a story passed down from generation to generation of locals in the area, but how does that explain the regular sighting of a ghostly monk seen moving around the ruins or sometimes rushing down from the abbey to the Tees just as dusk approaches. When the river is in flood a monk and a ghostly young lady are often seen drifting above the water. Much more often however, you can hear screams of agony coming from the steep banks of the Tees.
Tonight in the absence of Harry, a newcomer in the form of Dan Armstrong joined the regular team of Thomas, Ryan and myself for this trip to haunted County Durham. We left my flat in Washington at around 8:30pm for the hour long drive to our first location. En route we passed the magnificent Raby Castle said to be haunted by Charles Neville, 6th Earl of Westmorland, Henry Vane the Younger and Lady Barnard or the 'Old Hell Cat' as they called her. It really is a stunning sight and the dozens of deer in the vast gardens just add to the splendour. To set the mood I filled Dan in on tales of places we’ve investigated in the past and the many strange happenings we have encountered.
We arrived at the abbey, not far from Barnard Castle, just after 9:30pm on a relatively warm, dry, but very dark evening. Dan was feeling very apprehensive, understandably so for his first ever investigation. We unpacked our equipment, EMF meter, digital camera, night vision video camera and we decided to only take one torch. No sooner had we set foot in the abbey, the heavens opened and it started raining heavy. I had foolishly left my fleece in the car and was only wearing a t shirt, no problem though, I’m a Geordie and we’re solid! We split up exploring the various remaining parts of the building. There are gravestones within the abbey with various symbols on them, no indication of how old they are though. There is also a large empty tomb. Ryan climbed inside here then fell over on the slippery stone.
At the back of the abbey is the only part of the remains that have a roof over them and due to the weather quickly worsening we made our way to this part – The Novices Room, to have a look around. Ryan bravely wandered off on his own and climbed the stairs up to the higher floor. Dan was still a little wary but quickly acclimatising to the situation he now found himself in. We found a pitch black little room coming off the Novices Room which was in absolute darkness. We slowly inched our way into the narrow corridor and at the end there was a sharp right turn then a small wall to climb over and into a lower corridor, Dan climbed inside and carried on as far as he could go. Tom suddenly appeared behind me after going off on his own. Tom said that he thought this place felt inviting and peaceful compared to most of the places we’d been before.
We met back up in the Novice’s room and decided to stand still for a while and see if he we could feel anything. So far the evening had passed back pretty uneventfully. We waited patiently, I closed my eyes to heighten my other senses and help me focus. All we had picked up on so far was a vile fishy smell coming from the river. We decided we needed to try and kick start something so we joined hands and conducted a séance, asking if there was anyone there and if they could make something happen so we would know they were there. Nothing seemed to happen, but for no apparent reason Ryan felt drawn to a window to the far right of the room’s entrance, the EMF meter went to maximum yet hadn’t picked anything up there at all earlier. Tom was talking photos all over the room and didn’t realise at the time that he was taking some of the most amazing photos that we’ve ever had yet on Ghosts of the North East. Large light anomalies of various shapes and sizes, and peculiar streaks of light. It was raining hard but these photos were taken indoors so what were they? Judge for yourself. Was this a sign that we weren’t alone at the abbey?
Orbs galore, only appearing after we asked for a sign. Are these the spirits of the ghosts that remain at the abbey?
Yet more strange lights in the corridoor coming off the Novices Room
A strange streak of light, and orbs, surround Dan
I’ve spent a long time looking at the above photos, and these weren’t the only three, there were more, but I can’t think of a logical explanation for these strange lights. There were no anomalies before I asked out for a sign and it can’t be a mark on the camera lens as the lights are in a different place each time, it was indoors so it can’t be rain. Perhaps it was something paranormal.
It was nearing 11pm so we spent a little while longer wandering the ruins before deciding to move on to our next location after a fairly quiet evening at Egglestone Abbey.
It was nearing 11pm so we spent a little while longer wandering the ruins before deciding to move on to our next location after a fairly quiet evening at Egglestone Abbey.
Conclusion
Good question. To be honest I’m not sure. We certainly didn’t see anything with our naked eye but the photos we took certainly are unusual. It is widely believed that light anomalies, or orbs, are the earliest stages of a ghost manifestation. I think we captured something special here but what do you think?
We actually left here feeling a little bit disappointed that nothing really seemed to happen but if only we’d noticed these photos before we left, we could have asked for more signs.
Let’s home for more success at Bowes Castle.
We actually left here feeling a little bit disappointed that nothing really seemed to happen but if only we’d noticed these photos before we left, we could have asked for more signs.
Let’s home for more success at Bowes Castle.