Storyteller: Christmas ghost story - a visit to Berry Pomeroy

Over the next few weeks, in the run up to the festive period, I will be sharing with you some creepy Christmas ghost stories, partly based on actual experiences, partly fictional... This week: A visit to Berry Pomeroy:

Over the years, my Monday night meetings at Churston Court have attracted many people, all eager to share with us their own personal experiences of something they can’t explain.

The one place that crops up in many people’s stories is Berry Pomeroy Castle, allegedly one of the most haunted properties in the country.

I have visited the castle many times over the years, day and night, being in the last official group to be granted access to carry out an overnight investigation, where I actually glimpsed a light anomaly in an upper floor window, before it was swiftly snuffed out.

I’ve also heard the sound of old-fashioned gunfire, like muskets going off from a distance, once during a daytime visit, and once at night.

However, it’s hearing other people’s stories that fascinates me the most, whether it be sightings of a figure in white standing in the top floor window of a room that has no floor, a couple who, during a romantic moment, experienced their car being violently shaken from the outside, or an electrician working in the toilet block out of season, who saw a woman in a blue coat, clutching a crying baby to her chest, walking past him at dusk.

A good friend of mine, Bob Mann, writes books about the place. Bob is the fount of all knowledge when it comes to all things spooky around Berry Pomeroy and Totnes, which is why I involved him as a guide for a visit I arranged for some friends of mine a few months ago.

We met up at the castle to hear all about its history, and the stories attached to it, from the great man himself. He didn’t disappoint.

Regaling us with his memories of childhood visits with his mother, his theories behind the origins of the White Lady, the fact he has a piece of the Wishing Tree in his garden, and a very tragic and personal story that I’d never heard him tell before.

It concerned three friends of his who had paid a visit to the castle, as one of them had never been.

They had spent a few hours wandering the ruins, when suddenly the newbie among them tried to scale one of the walls, claiming there was a woman in white beckoning to him from on high.

His friends pulled him back to safety, assuring him it was just his imagination, and that the heat of a particularly hot summer’s afternoon was getting to him.

The three lads left quite quickly after that, deciding to go for a well-earned pint at nearby Barton Pines.

Curiously, this building shares links with Berry Pomeroy, as some of the stone windows were 'rescued' from the castle back in the days when it was just an abandoned ruin, which might explain why a woman in white has also been seen here, obviously wanting her windows back!

As they drove home, after a few pints, along the lanes of Berry Pomeroy, towards Totnes, they were involved in a very tragic accident, resulting in the death of the driver and his front seat passenger, seriously injuring the rear seat passenger.

When questioned about the accident, the survivor claimed that a black figure had run in front of the car, causing his friend to swerve to avoid them, hitting a hedge bank and flipping the car over.

Superstitious locals claimed that the curse of the White Lady had struck again.

After spending a suitably spooky afternoon with Bob, I suggested a visit to Berry Pomeroy Church to round off the day. I’d never been there before, and I was intrigued to see if it had one of my Devil’s Doors. My friends took me up on the suggestion, so off we went.

Unfortunately, our journey proved fruitless, as the church itself was closed and the north wall, where I expected to find any blocked-up doors, lies in the grounds of the manor house next door, on private land, so we were unable to check it out.

Disappointed, we said our goodbyes, and went our separate ways. As I drove back through the village, I spotted what looked like an old lych gate at the top of a set of stone steps, and I wondered if this was another way into the church grounds.

Parking up, I went to investigate, but it soon became obvious that it only led into the garden of the house in front of the church. Satisfying myself with a picture, I returned to the car.

As I was about to get back in, I happened to glance back down the lane, and spotted a figure walking towards me. It was a young girl, wearing a long black cloak with a hood.

As I sat in the car preparing to pull away, she walked past and purposefully looked back at me, beaming a big smile and looking me straight in the eye. She was quite beautiful, and her charming smile made me pause. I watched as she walked to the end of the lane, and turn towards Totnes. I then headed for home in the opposite direction.

Once back home, I couldn’t get the image of the girl out of my head, so much so, that I felt compelled to email Bob, and share my encounter with him. His reply, when it eventually came, sent shivers down my spine, making me fear for my own mortality.

Just one line flashed up on my computer screen: “Oh, so you’ve seen her too”