The Storyteller: Plymouth ghost play sparks look at Dartmoor’s most haunted village

I’m very lucky that Sarah, my partner, shares my love of spooky things.

She is very sensitive to spirit so this makes her a great asset when I take her to allegedly haunted locations. She also shares my love of the theatre, hence our annual trips to London to take in West End shows. 

Imagine our delight when there is a spooky play doing the rounds and its tour arrives in Plymouth over the Valentine’s weekend. Guess where we went?

The play in question is 2:22 – A Ghost Story… written by Danny Robins, who knows his stuff, for he hosts the podcast and TV show called Uncanny, where he shares people’s spooky and sometimes disturbing experiences with a mixed audience of both sceptics and believers.

Sarah and I first saw it in Bath a couple of years ago and we enjoyed it so much that we grabbed the opportunity to see it again.

At the start of the performance, they ask you not to give anything away. All I will say is that it involves two couples coming together for a meal in a modern house. There is a baby upstairs, a baby monitor and foxes in the garden… oh, and a teddy bear.

When the penny finally drops as to what is going on there is an audible gasp from the audience guaranteed… watch it when you get the opportunity, especially if you like jumpy, scary moments live and in your face... 

When I discussed our plans for Valentine’s Day with a couple of our friends, they shared theirs with me. They were spending the night at The Castle Inn in Lydford on Dartmoor. I know it has a very haunted reputation, so when I warned them to watch out for the black pig, she replied: “Black pig?” I then felt obliged to share with them everything I know about the spooky little village they would be staying in...

Once upon a time, Lydford was a very important place, giving its name to the largest parish in England. Not the largest by population but by the area that it covered as it included Dartmoor, one of the most inhospitable parts of the country. But, people tried to exist there as best they could.

One of the industries that attracted a large workforce was tin mining. It became big business back in medieval times, so big that those who ran the industry set up their own prison in the dungeons of Lydford Castle and anyone who transgressed their strict rules would find themselves thrown into it to await trial.

A trial that many poor souls didn’t get to have, as sittings of the court were held very infrequently and if you were unlucky enough to miss a sitting, your chances of surviving to the next one in those harsh conditions were very slim indeed.

This became known as “Lydford Law”, for the sentence of death was passed before you could plead your innocence at a trial. This might explain why the place feels very haunted.

In the past, investigation groups have often spent the night there. Sadly, the place is currently sealed off as the gantry and spiral staircase that gives you access to the lower level has been deemed unsafe… but some odd things have been experienced over recent years.

The oddest of these must be the sighting of a bear, no less, in one of the cell areas. The only explanation I can come up with is that it dates from a time when bear baiting was an established form of public entertainment. Maybe a bear was once kept there whilst being used for such purposes. Maybe even pitted against the prisoners for sick sport. Whatever the case, the presence of a ghostly bear can be explained. 

On a personal note, I’ve visited the place many times. I make a point of taking my visitors there as part of my tours, even though the village is now fairly small, there is plenty of interest to see.

On one such solo visit, I experienced the distinct smell of tobacco smoke as I entered. As I said, I was alone, I’ve never smoked and the couple who exited as I was entering weren’t either. Sometimes you can smell wood smoke coming from the pub next door but this was definitely tobacco, possibly coming from the clay pipe of a solitary guard having a crafty puff whilst on duty. A guard, in spirit, that I couldn’t see, although I could certainly smell him.

Talking of the pub next door, aptly known as The Castle Inn, this is where the ghost of a black pig has often been seen… and elsewhere in the village also, but primarily the pub. This is said to be the ghost of the notorious Hanging Judge, Judge Jeffreys no less, returning to the scene of his crimes.

Here, both inside the pub and in the castle itself, he held what became known as the Bloody Assizes, during the reign of King James II. This was a role he enjoyed, perhaps a little too much, finding pleasure in sentencing those people brought before him to death by hanging. I often wondered why the judge would choose this form to appear in. A little bit of recent research revealed that The Black Pig used to be his nickname… so if the cap fits...

It is this particular ghost that I advised my friends to look out for during their overnight stay and, if it does make an appearance for them, I’m sure I will be the first person they would tell! 

The other building of note in Lydford, sited beside the castle mound, is St Petrock’s Church. Once the busiest church in the locality, up until the middle of the 1200s it was the law of the land that all burials had to be made in the parish church. This is why the Lych Way, or Way of the Dead, was chosen as the safest route to transport a body, by pack animal or pall bearers, across the harshest of terrain.

Because of this harshness, locals appealed to the good nature of the then Bishop of Exeter, Bishop Branscombe, who decreed in their favour that henceforth, burials could be made at St Pancras, in Widecombe in the Moor. Soon after, other churches followed suit.

So, if you wish to see the oldest graves on Dartmoor, at the end of the Lych Way, marked on the Ordinance Survey map for walkers still to follow, head to Lydford. 

Whilst here, you might like to view a particular fixture of church architecture that I have made it my mission to seek out, and that is The Devil’s Door, of which St Petrock’s has a fine example. This is a door on the north side of a church, often found to be no longer in use and invariably blocked up, in keeping with the rest of the stonework of the structure.

Folklore has it that these doors would be kept open during baptisms to allow The Devil himself to exit once he has been exorcised during the service. The door would then be kept closed and only used during the next baptism service to prevent him re-entering the church.

This early Catholic superstition was brought to an abrupt end when Protestants took over the running of the country’s churches and decreed that all Devil’s Doors should henceforth be sealed up to stop such nonsense. 

If you go to the north side of the church exterior, you will see that the archway still remains but the entrance is blocked up. On the inside, you can still see part of the archway with a bricked-up wall and, recently, the lid to the old Watchmaker’s Tomb, which can be found outside the south entrance, where it has been hung up for decorative purposes.

Not every church still has such a relic but every time I visit one, since I found out about their existence, I head straight to the north side to seek one out and add it to my collection.

I shared this information with our friends in the hope that they will have a suitably spooky Valentine’s Day. I hope that Sarah and I have had something similar during our stay in Plymouth.