Is there anybody there? Not everyone is able to make it round Borwick Hall (pronounced ‘borrick’), an Elizabethan manor house in the far north of Lancashire. If they do, they may not want to venture back, because the place has a reputation – for being haunted. Woooo…!
Shall we start at the beginning? I came across Borwick Hall via the excellent English Heritage Open Days festival – not to be confused with English Heritage, the English heritage organisation. (Why didn’t it occur to anyone that this could be confusing to some people?) Anyway, the Heritage Open Days initiative was launched by the Council of Europe in 1985 to raise awareness and appreciation for Europe’s unique cultural heritage. It now takes place across 50 countries, including all four nations of the United Kingdom, and enables the hoi polloi to visit historic properties that do not ordinarily open their doors to just anyone. So – Brexit appears not to have scuppered everything worthwhile, after all.
The manor of Borwick is very old. Humans possibly lived thereabouts as long ago as the Iron Age (before it was a manor) and it is mentioned in the Domesday Survey of 1086 as Bereuuic – which means something like ‘barley farm’. The earliest stone structure was a defensive ‘pele tower’, built sometime in the 14th century – possibly by a Thomas Whittington, probably as a form of protection against Scottish raids. Robert Bindloss (or Bindlesse), a wealthy cotton dealer from Kendal, built Borwick Hall around this tower. His master mason, Alixander Brinsmead, helpfully carved his name, with the date 1595, in a slab at the top of the staircase. The construction is in local style – dressed sandstone covering stone rubble, with a slate roof: impressive, but somewhat gloomy and austere.
Borwick Hall passed down through several generations of Bindlosses (or should that be ‘Bindli’?), eventually arriving by marriage in the hands of the Stricklands of nearby Sizergh sometime in the 18th century. The Stricklands sold it to a Colonel Marton of Capernwray in 1854. The Martons were unable to afford the upkeep and the Hall fell into a state of disrepair. In 1912, it was leased to the music critic of The Times, John Alexander Fuller Maitland. The terms of the lease required that Maitland restore and repair the building, in return for a very modest rent, a practice not dissimilar to the provisions agreed between Prince Andrew and the Crown Estate over the Royal Lodge in Windsor. During World War II, the Hall was a base for D Company of the 10th Battalion, King’s Own Royal Regiment. After the war, it was sold to the Lancashire Youth Clubs Association and then to Lancashire County Council, who now run it as an outdoor education centre for youngsters.
The 4th Bindloss of Borwick, another Robert, became Member of Parliament for Lancaster as well as High Sherriff of Lancashire. He is said to have been enormously wealthy as well, prompting the aphorism, “As rich as Sir Robert in the North”. The gatehouse at Borwick carries the date 1650, and the initials ‘RR’ – Robert and his wife, Rebecca. Robert appears to have been somewhat equivocal in his sympathies during the Civil War – a supporter of Parliament with Royalist sympathies. Following the execution of the King, Charles I, in 1649, England and Wales became a republic. In August 1651, the future Charles II – already crowned king of Scotland – was heading south with an invading army of about 14,000 Scots. The troops camped in the fields around Borwick and Charles was provided with more agreeable facilities and comfort in the Hall whilst Sir Robert, allegedly, made himself scarce. The Royal visitor may have been dreaming of recovering the crown, but seemingly had more immediate things on his mind that night, for, according to legend, Charles was introduced to a local lady, which – somehow – resulted in one of his many illegitimate offspring. The legend goes on to suggest that Charles later made full provision for the child’s future – a habit of his, so they say. That’s alright then. Sadly, there is no record of who the lady (or the child) was and I am desolated to think that, when calling upon Borwick through Heritage Open Days, I may have walked past a royal descendant of Charles Stuart’s, without genuflecting.
My visit fell on a lovely sunny September afternoon, sandwiched in between days of the drenching horizontal rain that North West England does so well. The good folk of Lancashire Outdoor Education had gone to some trouble to show off the Hall, setting out some fascinating displays, with charming, knowledgeable, staff on hand to guide and answer questions. Inevitably, rooms have been, in the modern parlance, ‘repurposed’ and, given the current usage, there is something of an institutional feel to the place. On the ground floor is the old Baronial Hall, a focal point for the whole household and visitors. The initials ‘RB’, for Robert Bindloss, are carved either side of the fireplace. The panelled room off the Baronial Hall, once used as a gentlemen’s retiring room and for displaying trophies, has the date 1712 carved into the fireplace. Nearby, the Bar was the ground floor of the medieval Pele Tower, with walls 6 feet thick, where people would gather in times of danger. Upstairs, sleeping accommodation is now largely a series of dormitories – a mixture of Mallory Towers and the sort of room you might find in a Tudor manor house. The present-day Library was once a parlour, and then a drawing room, but originally the great chamber, a private space used by the family. At the rear of the hall is a small courtyard containing a press, and the site of the hall’s well. This is a ‘spinning gallery’. Spinning galleries are a feature of local architecture. They are spaces under the eaves, providing storage space and access to upper floor rooms. On a fine evening, in the long days of summer, this was a place to sit and spin – not wasting the light. It was exactly like stepping back in time. The stairs and corridors leading to bedrooms was, to me, almost a labyrinth.
Generations have occupied Borwick Hall down through the centuries, living there through good times and bad and, no doubt, dying there too. It is probably inevitable that some have left a sense of themselves in its thick walls. As we said at the outset, the place certainly has a reputation. Indeed, it is possible to book yourself a ghost hunt and sleepover there, if so inclined. There are several spirits that have been sensed, heard – or even seen. The most notorious is the obligatory, but infinitely sad, ‘White Lady.’ ‘White Ladies’ occur in many places and are often associated with a tragedy, loss, or warning of impending death. The one at Borwick Hall is sometimes known as Alice, reputedly a daughter of the house who, in love with a local lad, refused to marry a man chosen by her father. The usual story is that she was locked in a room at the top of the tower, where she slowly starved to death. Other versions have her meeting her premature end by leaping from a window. Her spirit is said to roam the corridors, longing to find comfort, possibly searching for her lost love. Thank heavens arranged marriages are a thing of the past in modern Britain, eh?
A priestly presence is sometimes felt in an area thought to be the site of a former chapel; ‘tis said there is a priest’s hole in the floor of a modern bathroom nearby. It is possible: Lancashire was a strong Catholic area at a time when Catholics were persecuted; the Stricklands were well known Catholics and Stuart loyalists. Indeed, Colonel Francis Strickland (1691–1746) was one of the Seven Men of Moidart, who landed on Eriskay in 1745 with Bonny Prince Charlie to begin a rebellion to reclaim the thrones of Great Britain and Ireland for the House of Stuart.
Other causes of voices, odd noises, sensations of being watched – and even being touched – include a story that the mason that built the ‘new’ Borwick Hall, Alixander Brinsmead, was interred upright at the top of the staircase where he carved his name and the date, 1595. At the top of the house used to be some kind of private asylum where those souls with what might be called intellectual or physical disabilities were incarcerated, until they died, as well as what is termed a ‘coffin room’. It is claimed that ghosts have been seen in the library and the bar. Although the latter sightings might have been caused by a different kind of spirit, some of the reports you will find are genuinely frightening.
My visit was mercifully free of spiritual incidents – as far as I am aware. My fellow guests mostly seemed to be the kind of folk you would expect to find innocently looking round an old, interesting building. One chap, however, stood out. He was extremely earnest, read everything, yet appeared to have extensive – almost insider – knowledge of the Hall. Perhaps he was a ghost, making a friendly revisit. Perhaps he had escaped from one of those rooms at the top of the house. For my part, standing outside some remote bedrooms at the highest part of the house, I became aware of an intermittent rattling sound coming from the top of a short flight of stairs. It was quite dark, but when my eyes adjusted, I saw that the stairs led to a door. I ventured up and stood there, listening. The door rattled. Gingerly, I tried the latch; it was locked. The rattle came again and I became aware of the soft sound of wind blowing the other side. This must be the very top, I thought; there is nothing on the other side except a long drop.
Ironically, Borwick Hall actually took the title role in a children’s TV series, ‘The Ghosts of Motley Hall’, that ran from 1976-1978. I had never heard of it. It was sobering, but I guess not unexpected, to learn that most of the cast, many of them stalwarts of British TV in their day, were no longer with us. You cannot help wondering whether their souls are as restless as those at Borwick Hall are.
It was a privilege to visit Borwick Hall, not least because it is not usually open to the public. However, chatting to one of the aforementioned helpful, charming, guides before I left, she did say that tours can sometimes be arranged when nothing else is booked – so it is worth getting touch, especially if you can make up a small group. It is also a very pleasant area, where the sound of the nearby M6 Motorway fades away and there is a walk along the nearby Lancaster canal, used by the Outdoor School for paddling canoes. Who knows, you might see Alice out for her daily leg stretch.
Beautiful photos, Mike! Thanks so much for sharing! Warm greetings from Montreal, Canada.
Hey, Linda – very kind of you to say so 🙂 Greetings from a damp UK!
A very interesting post Mike. I passed close by there on a canal walk to and from Tewitfield Marina in August two years ago but didn’t know about the Hall at the time. A place I would very much like to look round so I’ll keep an eye out for any future open days. It has to be said though, I don’t believe in ghosts
A friend told me he was a ghost, but I saw right through him.
Thanks for this wonderful post with so many wonderful photos
It’s an absolute pleasure, Joanne – thank you for reading it!
Thank you….that was an enjoyable ‘visit’ to a place rarely open to the public
I enjoyed it too, especially as I’d never heard of the place before. 🙂
Thank you, Mike, for another visit to a place I will never see in person. Hurrah that Borwick Hall remains intact and occasionally open to the public! The stone and brick work in the UK continues to astound me. The new homes/structures being built in my town outside Boston, MA, (in the USA) are not going to last for centuries…
Thanks, Will, for dropping in and leaving your customary charming comment. I need to pop over to your site soon to see what you’re up to. It’s fascinating to compare the differences in construction between the UK and the US – but also similarities; you’ll find plenty of New England style weatherboarding in the UK – the clue’s in the name, I guess 🙂
I really love learning about these lesser known places- great article!
Thanks! Yes, me too!
Thanks for this very interesting article. Although I’m originally from the north west, I’d never heard of Borwick Hall before; something to add to my itinerary next time I visit relatives up there. It looks quite a forbidding place, so not surprised about rumours of hauntings. I wouldn’t want to spend a night there!
I’m not sure I could brave a night there, either. Borwick is a very pretty village, though.
Great article Mike, very interesting to hear the history of Borwick Hall – I’ve visited Sizergh a number of times but don’t recall any mention of Borwick there. As I read your article and looked at the photos I was thinking the building looked vaguely familiar – then I realised I had walked right by on the Lancaster Canal during my Lands End to John O’Groats peregrinations before our very pleasant encounter in Newcastleton a couple of weeks later. Our local castle, Crathes, has a “green lady”. The story goes that a servant girl became pregnant by the laird of the Castle and she and her child were subsequently killed and “disposed off”. In the 1800s a baby’s skeleton was discovered beneath the hearthstone of the fireplace in the “green lady’s room”. The green lady is still seen at Crathes occasionally (though thankfully not when we attended a function in the high hall a couple of years back). … Keith.
Thanks, Keith; great to hear from you – I have yet to write up my notes on the Debatable Lands! Y’know, I might well have seen the shade of a Land’s End to John o’ Groats walker as I strolled along the canal footpath at Borwick, just revisiting one of his endeavours! I need to visit Crathes Castle – sad and gruesome tale, though!
The idea of locking handicapped people away is so ubiquitous that I think it must have happened. Walling them up and starving them to death seems a bit extreme, though.
Hiding people with learning difficulties went on into the early 20th century, though. I used to live in Redhill, Surrey, close to what was then called The Royal Earlswood Hospital. (It has since been converted to dwellings, and the patients moved to live in their community. )
Here’s what Wikipedia says: The Royal Earlswood Hospital, formerly The Asylum for Idiots and The Royal Earlswood Institution for Mental Defectives, in Redhill, Surrey, was the first establishment to cater specifically for people with developmental disabilities. Previously they had been housed either in asylums for the mentally ill or in workhouses.
Even in the beginning of the 20th century, people with learning difficulties were being ‘hidden’. Two cousins of the late queen were ‘hidden’ there. Although the treatment was good when I was living near, and the patients could come out with an accompanying staff member. Several came every Sunday to the local church, and came out to watch the London to Brighton Rally.
It’s not surprising there are ghosts there. The outside does look a bit forbidding.
I believe wealthy families used to lock handicapped relatives away because they were embarrassed – and the supposed stigma could ruin the prospect of ‘good’ marriages. I think I remember Royal Earlswood – I used to live down that way, too.
More splendid history so timely featured
Thank you, Derrick; very kind 🙂
Splendid and unusual article! I had never heard of this house before- it sounds like the sort of place which would once upon a time been a youth hostel
Thanks, Jenny. Yes, I know what you mean. I don’t think anyone would ever run out of old houses in the UK.
Hidden Britain and on our doorstep too. Interesting and entertaining.
Thank you, Anne!
An interesting place. I’m particularly taken by the spinning gallery.
I looked up ‘Ghosts of Motley Hall’ and I’m not surprised most of the cast are dead. Most of them were not in the full flush of youth at the time and it was made almost 50 years ago. The premise appears to be the same as that of ‘Ghosts’, which was very entertaining.
Yes, you’re right – although the 1970s often seems just like yesterday to me, 50 years is a heck of a long time in a life! The spinning gallery appealed to me as well.
It is unlikely that I will ever visit Borwick Hall in person, but you taking us along and giving us the tour with a lot of background information was a very good way to quietly enjoy my morning coffee today.
The photo that shows the gatehouse from the inside could have just as well been taken at Markenfield Hall. Much of the manor house reminds me of Fountains Hall (which is, of course, also said to be haunted). I am sure that if one stands or sits still long enough in a place with so much history, one will eventually at least “feel” something, if not hear or see, but I am not keen on that kind of spirit and would rather encounter one or two of the spirits of the other kind in the bar.
I’m delighted it hit your inbox in time for the morning coffee; that was, of course, the idea! I’m with you on the spirit preferences.
Fab post Mike! I must remember to look at the Heritage Days site, we do have some here and I forget about them! Great photos though I’d have liked a shot of the white lady!
Yes, I need to pay more attention to Heritage Open Days as well. Sorry about the White Lady – I did hang around a bit, but we’d had garlic the previous night and it may have put her off.
And at the end, a shiny RED telephone booth – that’s the England I like visiting ! As an architect I like looking at these older buildings, not so much for their ghosts as for their character, their ratio of windows to stone walls, how they sit into the land, that sort of thing. Thanks for the tour.
Sadly, that England is disappearing Mark, though it can often still be found, as you know. Odd to think the telephone booths first appeared just over 100 years ago. As an architect, you have a perspective many of us do not – which reminds me of a few I worked with.
It looks very imposing. I’m always struck by how chilly these places must have been in the winter, and how hard it must be to keep them warm now. The grounds look beautiful.
It does look a little imposing, even on a sunny day. Yes – I can’t imagine what the heating costs must be!
I wouldn’t live in Borwick Hall. The rooms look very attractive and comfortable, but the exterior looks like a military defence structure. Imagine hiding behind a Berlin Wall all your life 🙁
To be fair, it begun as a defensive structure – but many houses of the time in that part of the world are a little grim and grey.
Very interesting and idiosyncratic as usual, Mike.
Thank you.
Much appreciated, Colin!
Sounds like an intriguing place full of untold stories. It looks a bit spooky just from the picture of the outside of it.
Oh yes, Darlene – if walls could talk!