Haunted York!

Sit back, relax and prepare yourself to meet some famous residents of York - the most haunted city in Britain!

The dark streets are overcrowded, noisy and foul smelling. The air is heavy and wet. The smell of rancid waste fills your nostrils and hits the back of your throat. Lowering your eyes to the ground, anxious to avoid stepping in the sludge of filth that carpets the street, you notice an old man stumble and fall heavily in front of you. His death is not your concern.
You turn and guide your horse off the main path of the street and onto the cobbled courtyard of a posting house. A stable lad is grooming a fine black stallion as you emerge into the yard.

“Any chance of a drink for my horse?” you ask, noticing a trough of water to the side of the yard. The lad nods in the direction of the trough.

It is 1680 and you are watering your horse at what is now known as ‘The Olde Starre Inn’ - York’s oldest licensed public house.

The air around you fills with the desperate cries of wounded and dying men and the unmistakable smell of blood and death hangs in the air.

Fear grips your soul as the sound grows louder and closer - but there is no one there, except you...and the stable lad.

The lad shrugs, “Ignore it! It is nought but the cries from the surgeon’s blade. Before my time, you know...back in ‘44, after Marston Moor. They brought their injured and dying here, used it as a bloody billet hospital and morgue. It is said the landlord was none too happy, him being a Royalist and all. Don’t suppose he had much choice, them Roundheads haven taken the city from Charles. Mind it wasn’t long after that they took his head as well.”

So, if you are ever in York, I dare you to take a wander up Stonegate. Look for the banner stretched across the street and take the entrance below. Go hear for yourself the cries of the dead as you lift your mug of ale and sup to King Charles’ and his head.

Not brave enough for the ‘The Olde Starre Inn’, well...why not try the ‘Cock and Bottle’? Ladies be warned however, of a man wearing a richly embroidered coat and tight fitting breeches, with dashingly handsome features and long, black, wavy hair.

George Villiers, the second Duke of Buckingham, born in London in 1628, was a close friend of Charles the second. He was a womaniser with an extraordinary talent for charming pretty ladies into his bed. So infamous was his character and reputation that his way with the ladies and his downfall from parliament in 1673 was immortalised in the nursery rhyme ‘Georgie Porgie’.

It is believed that on his retirement George bought a house on Skeldergate on exactly the same site as today’s ‘Cock and Bottle’ public house.

Ladies be warned - Mr Villiers is still there! His saucy ghost has been caught spying on young ladies in the shower, following them to the toilet and fondling and stroking pretty customers of the ‘Cock and Bottle’ pub.

Shall I continue?

Ok, but we only have time for one more, so grab a cup of tea and enjoy this, my last haunted tale for now!

Around Bedern Arch, off Goodramgate, stood an ancient building that, in 1847, became the ‘York Industrial Ragged School’. Its master, a greedy and crazed alcoholic, rounded up the homeless and hungry children of the city and set them to work. His only interest in the children was their financial worth and he frequently kept their welfare money for himself. Many of them perished from exposure and starvation. This suited the master very well as each death meant one less child.
In summer months he would secretly bury their little bodies in shallow graves. But when the winter frosts came he wasn’t able to dig through the hard ground. Instead he hid the bodies in a large cupboard in the orphanage. Over time the rotting bodies mounted in his cupboard and the ghosts of his victims haunted his twisted mind until, in a state of wretched derangement, he took a knife and murdered the remaining children in the home.
The house no longer exists but, on cold winter nights, if you are brave enough to wander through the Bedern Arch off Goodramgate, it is possible that you will feel the hand of a child in yours and hear the terrible screams of the ghosts of the ‘York Industrial Ragged School’.

On that note and with many thanks for your time - I bid you a warm farewell from York, the most haunted city in Britain.