The White Lady of Radford: Ghosts, Folklore, and Forgotten Histories

 

For a couple of years I lived in Plymstock, not far from Radford, and it became one of my favourite places to walk my two dogs. The path leads you in under the trees, then down to the wide lake where swans and ducks float about on the still waters. On one side the ruined boathouse leans into the water, its roof gone, its windows hollow. Further along you find the folly castle standing guard on the bank, and in the middle of the grounds the remains of the old silo still rise up, a reminder of when the estate was more than just a park. It is a place where history shows through in fragments, every turn of the path hinting at what once stood there. 

The only thing that ever spoiled it for me was the South West Water plant tucked on the edge of the park. If you wander too near on the wrong day the air turns sharp and sewagey, a rude interruption to the otherwise gothic air of the lake and woods. 

Even so, I loved it, and I even used Radford for my books, sourcing the cover photographs for Ella’s Memoirs and The Black Marshes there among the ruins.

One of the raw images from the Haverleigh cover photos featuring Natasha Berry who posed as Ella.

The Ghost Stories

Radford has its share of ghost stories. A faceless monk is said to appear at the lodge gates. Drake himself is said to have been spotted there and people claimed servants' bells rang on their own in the long-ruined house before demolition. Dogs are said to shy away from the paths at night. The most famous of all is the White Lady.

The story of the White Lady at Radford is told in many ways. Most versions centre on a young woman of the family who drowns and whose ghost lingers by the water. First to mention is that "White Lady Ghosts" are a common figure in folklore, not just in Devon but across Europe. They are usually tied to stories of tragic love, suicide, or betrayal, women who died too soon and are said to wander in pale garments near the place of their death. The details change from place to place, yet the image is instantly recognisable. I have written before about the White Lady of Berry Pomeroy Castle, and you can read more about the whit ladies of folklore in my earlier blog post HERE

In one of the best-known tellings of Radford's white lady story, a girl of the house falls in love with a boy from Oreston. She is forbidden to see him, and the pair take a rowing boat onto the lake which overturns, drowning them both. Since then she has been seen in white, walking by the water or drifting across it on moonlit nights, searching for her lost love. A local road even bears her name, White Lady Road, keeping the tale alive.

I have come across several variations of this tale too, from blogs and heritage sites to Facebook posts and other retellings. The details shift with the teller. Sometimes the companion is a sweetheart, sometimes a close female friend of lower rank. Sometimes the lady drowns by accident, other times she chooses to end her life. A few versions move the setting away from Radford altogether and place her death at Hooe Lake. These contradictions are typical of folklore like this.

The ruined boathouse - photo by Mckinnon Images

The History:

Radford House was once the great seat of the Harris family, rising from a medieval manor into a grand Elizabethan mansion where Sir Christopher Harris, Member of Parliament for Plymouth and close associate of Sir Francis Drake, entertained figures tied to England’s naval exploits. Drake is said to have lodged at Radford during preparations against the Armada, and the Harris family held his will for a time, securing Radford’s place in that circle of sea-faring legend. The estate sprawled across what is now Radford Park, with ornamental gardens, a lake, a boathouse and, later, a little folly-castle built on the dam. By the nineteenth century the land was being parcelled and remodelled, its former grandeur slowly ebbing away. The twentieth century brought decline: the house stood increasingly empty, its contents sold, its walls left to rot, until the main building was finally demolished in 1937. What remains today are fragments: the lake, the lodge, and the boathouse ruins which are open and free to roam.

In several recountings of the folklore, I found mention of the white lady's drowning happening in the 1700s (18th century). In the 18th century there certainly were daughters and female relatives living at the house such as Susannah Harris and Anne Harris of the Bellevue and Hooe branch. Neither of these ladies drowned, though. In fact, after extensive searching through parish registers, inquest files, and local papers, I can confidently say that there is no record of any drowning there in the period usually implied by the legend. No named young woman lost to the water. No grief-stricken lover. Nothing of the sort.

There was, however, one incident that may have seeded rumour from a later period. In 1853, a twenty-year-old woman named only as "Mrs Revil" was discovered in Radford Lake with her baby in her arms. She and the child had both almost drowned, but ‘had the good luck’ to be pulled out by a passing doctor, who managed to revive them both. Mrs Revil lived not in Radford, but in Prince Rock, and had no recorded link to the house. Her actions were reported as an attempted suicide and attempted murder of the child in the Western Times (25 June 1853, p.7). The story travelled widely, reprinted in several newspapers across England, including in London. It is tragic, sensational, and close enough to the setting that later retellings may have shaped it into something ghostly.

More telling still is the silence in the literature. I cannot find any written version of the Radford White Lady prior to a local guidebook in the 1990s. The most-cited online account is an unsourced ghost story book printed in 2010. The demolition-era reporting (for example, Western Morning News, 27 July 1935, p.7) describes the house falling into ruin. It speaks of echoes of Drake and of bells heard on still evenings, but no pale figure by the lake. Those latter details seem to have grown later, perhaps from oral stories told around the time when the estate was derelict and romantic to imagine.

So the White Lady of Radford is both ghost and gap: a figure who may never have lived at all, yet whose presence has outlasted those who did. Walking the water’s edge at dusk, I can see why she has appeared as a local legend.

A Forgotten Haunting

 Bowden House stands just outside Totnes in the parish of Ashprington, a building with layers of history written into its very walls. A manor has existed here since at least the medieval period. In the early 1500s John Gyles built a grand Tudor house on the site, complete with carved chimneypieces and panelled interiors. A century later, in 1704, Nicholas Trist purchased Bowden and transformed it, refacing the Tudor core in the elegant Queen Anne style that still dominates its south and east fronts. By the 1800s the Adams family (not the spooky one!) had taken over, leaving their own mark on the fabric of the house. Today, the Grade I listed property is home to the Bowden House Community, an intentional eco-community that has lived there since 2005.

                                                        (image taken from wiki)

That’s the official history... but there’s another side to Bowden’s story, one that’s almost been lost.

So, I was working on my Conversations About Ghosts project, when a story led me to research a location close to the house. This started a stirring... I had this nagging feeling - this buried memory.  I was SURE the house ran ghost tours back in the 1990s! Proper guided walks, with glossy little leaflets stacked on tourist stands alongside Paignton Zoo and Crealy Adventure Park. I could see the leaflets in my head, remember the talk of hauntings, but when I searched online there was nothing. Not a word. It started to feel like a false memory, one of those odd tricks where you’re sure something happened, yet everyone else looks at you blankly. It was odd!

I didn't think about it again, then, but just recently, I was writing up some history and background for the book and, since I had a free afternoon, I decided to give it a deep dive. At first, much of the same... that being, nothing at all. Then, at last, I stumbled across a post on an obscure Fortean forum where someone described the very tours I remembered. Right down to the details. The relief of knowing I hadn’t dreamt it was immense. Even better, I eventually unearthed newspaper clippings from the early 90s confirming the tours had been real.

According to those old reports, visitors claimed to have seen ghostly monks chanting in the dead of night, Elizabethan figures drifting through the halls, and the famous “girl in blue” on the staircase. Others spoke of invisible dogs brushing past their legs, cold hands tugging at their clothes, and even a disembodied arm floating across the lounge. Guides in Georgian costume led groups room by room, keeping a sightings book of every chilling account.

Proof at last. I knew it.

What strikes me now is how little trace remains. For a while Bowden was painted as one of the most haunted houses in Devon, with stories of dozens of different ghosts drifting through its corridors. Now there is almost nothing.  Apart from those buried newspaper articles and that single forum thread, it’s as though the ghost tours never happened. Maybe they ended when the house became a community in 2005, or maybe they were just a short-lived 90s curiosity that faded quietly into memory.

 
Hauntings often flare up in the public imagination and then fade away again like this though. In the 1930s, for example, Borley Rectory  (in Essex) was everywhere in the newspapers, branded the “most haunted house in England.” but but after a fire and years of scepticism it faded into obscurity. Whilst those of us who are interested int he topic still know the name, there are no recent stories. In the 1970s and 80s Chingle Hall (Lancashire) was drawing crowds for its ghost tours until the doors shut and the stories fell quiet. Even Pluckley in Kent, once promoted as the “most haunted village in England,” has slipped into relative obscurity after years of ghostly fame. Bowden House seems to follow the same pattern. For a short time it was a place of leaflets and late-night whispers, before vanishing almost completely from memory. Its haunting, like so many others, was not just about ghosts but about the way we remember and forget them.

Tudors in Devon (and some ghosts too!) - Berry Pomeroy Castle

 Today's post contains not only some Tudor history and some local history, but some ghost stories too! I really am spoiling you! 

Most people reading this will have heard of Henry VIII and his infamous 6 wives! Most will even be able to name those poor unfortunate ladies - Katherine of Aragon, Anne Boleyn, Jane Seymour, Anne of Cleeves, Catherine Howard, Katherine Parr - but what some of you might not know is that one of the most famous stately home castles in Devon was actually owned by Jane Seymour's brother! 

Berry Pomeroy Castle sits out in the countryside between Paignton and Totnes on the edge of Berry Pomeroy village. The place is atmospheric and set into some of the most beautiful countryside I have ever seen. Sadly, however the house stands in ruins these days and was in fact not actually ever finished in the first place! Here's a pic I took last time I was there...

Berry Pomeroy Castle, taken in between lockdowns 2020 by myself, Dr Emma Barrett.

Berry Pomeroy's origins are interesting. Originally, the house or at least parts of it were thought to be of Norman origin, however it's been discovered recently that in fact whilst the Pomeroy family was present in the village in that era, they actually lived in a smaller mansion near tot he church! The original structures, then were more likely built in the late 1400s by Henry Pomeroy or his heirs. 
The distinctive house within - as seen in my pic above, was actually built much later. 
Edward Seymour, the Lord Protector of England (Uncle of Henry VII's surviving son and brother tot he late Queen Jane) bought the land and buildings on it in 1547 during a time where he was in high favour and was buying up fancy houses throughout the country. Whilst Berry Pomeroy was the most valuable asset he acquired, there is no evidence that he did anything to the mansion himself - especially due to his soon thereafter downfall and execution. (Jane Seymour's brothers fell from grace quickly with both Edward and Thomas being executed within about ten years of each other! Thomas is also an interesting character having married Henry VIII's widow Katherine Parr in secret - but that's another story for another time!)

After Edward was executed, the house passed down to his heirs rather than revert to the crown, and it was his son who first settled there and began an ambitious plan to build a huge stately home there. Alas, he ran out of cash before he was done and so Berry Pomeroy was never completed! Despite that, the land and the ruin within are still owned by the Seymour family to this day.
 For a more in depth account of the history of the house, the current caretakers - English Heritage - have a great blog post on it and rather than just repeat that, I suggest that you have a look at that HERE 

I first encountered Berry Pomeroy a lot earlier in life than my love of history, though! When I was younger, I began to collect Ghost Stories from people with a view to writing a book (a project 25 years in the making and still ongoing! See HERE for more info on that! ) and being local to Totnes of course I heard a lot of stories about Berry Pomeroy (these will be in the book if I ever finish it!). From ghostly figures in the woods, to spectral children Berry Pomeroy has earned it's reputation as one of the most haunted sites in Devon! I've actually visited the place many a time myself - as a younger woman looking for ghosts and as an older one just to enjoy the peace and ambiance! Below is a pic of me and one of my close friends posing for an atmospheric photo at the last visit!

Myself (Dr Emma Barrett) and a friend Miss Tabitha Shave at the ruins

Now, I tend to take the middle road with ghost stories I am open-minded but also quite skeptical - I love to hear about experiences and have experienced some weird (but probably explainable) phenomena myself, but I do take a lot of ghost stories with a pinch of salt. Berry Pomeroy is a fine example of that. One of the most repeated and recognised stories is that of The white and Blue ladies of the castle.

I quote from a ghostly blogger:

"The White Lady is the restless soul of Margaret Pomeroy. She haunts the dungeons of St. Margaret’s Tower and has been seen waving to visitors. She was held captive in the castle dungeons by her sister, Eleanor, because of jealousy and starved to death in the dungeons"

A ghoulish though indeed. Whilst I have chosen this quote - this is a very common tale about the castle and I have heard similar told to me accompanied by apparent sightings. (as in "I thought I saw the ghost of Matilda / Margaret De Pomeroy... then launch into the story). 

HOWEVER! It's not true! 

In the 1800s, the castle ruins became a haven for artists and writers during the romantic movement and of course the castle was perfect as the setting for a gothic novel! In 1806, a writer by the name of Edward Montague wrote a spooky gothic novel using the castle as it's base. His novel featured the fictional Elinor De Pomeroy and her sister Matilda. Elinor, jealous of her sister marrying the man that she loved, had her murdered. The sister's ghost then began to appear as a white lady around the castle to bring attention to her sister's nefarious deeds! Sound familiar? Probably because it is very likely that this novel forms the basis for these particular tales! 

Further to this, however - I have also seen people claiming that the book is based on real events, some say from the medieval period, others say from the 1700s... the latter is very unlikely as the house was a ruin far before then!

As to a medieval source, firstly, Elinor De Pomeroy seems never to have existed! There is some evidence that there may have been a lady called Matilda De Pomeroy - in fact her full name was Matilda “Maud” De Vitre De Pomeroy. However Matilda was not a daughter of the house, but was in fact married into the family as the wife of Henry De Pomeroy in the 1100s. As we have seen by the above history, this means she actually never set foot on the grounds of the castle as it is known now, and would have resided at the previous smaller mansion nearer the village. Matilda did indeed die young, most likely in childbirth or shortly after from the dates given for her only son's birth, however that is about all that is known about her!

To add to this, the idea of a "white lady" ghost is actually a staple of many folk-lorish ghost stories all around the world - thought to be the spirits of the murdered, suicides or those who have died at a time of unrequited love. It is more likely, then, that Montague based his white lady ghost more in this sort of folklore than actual events.

The second most famous spirit said to haunt Berry Pomeroy is the fabled "blue lady" and she seems to originate from the 1700s. In the 1790s, a memoir was published by a rich doctor (Dr Farquar) who told a tale of a woman roaming the village of Berry Pomeroy who he considered to be a reliable harbinger of local deaths. Not a living woman, but a ghost of some poor unfortunate. Dr Farquar's story seems to be the first instance of this ghost story coming to light, with later retellings moving to describe the woman as dressed in blue. This then morphed into sightings at the castle, and then finally to her as a spectre which led the unwary to their deaths in falling from one of the towers. In many ghostly blogs the blue lady of Berry Pomeroy is stated to be that of a woman who lived in the Norman castle and who murdered her incest-conceived child. This is of course, debunked by the history, since the castle did not stand in Norman times. Also, noteworthy, incestual relationships are another staple of Gothic Literature (the Castle of Otrano springs to mind, by Warpole - which is said to be the first true gothic novel), and so it is likely that this story too is the product of over stimulated gothic imagination!

Tudors in Devon, Lady Jane Grey

 Now, we all know my area of expertise is eighteenth and nineteenth century, folklore and local history, but like so much of the population, I do also have an interest in the Tudor court and it's current cultural representation in TV programs, movies and books. Due to this, one thing I always like to see is a famous name attached to some local history! 

Lady Jane Grey's story is an unfortunate one! Lady Jane, if you don't know who she was, was a young woman who had the misfortune to be placed on the throne of England where she reigned for only 9 days before her arrest. She was the Great-granddaughter of Henry VII (The first Tudor King). Her mother was Frances Brandon, who was in turn the daughter of Mary Tudor (the sister of Henry VIII). Due to these royal connections, When Henry's only son, Edward VI was newly king, Jane was a good candidate to have become his wife, and would have been if her uncle (who was orchestrating the union) had not been arrested and later executed for treason, leading Jane to marry a youth called Lord Dudley instead. Jane's other link to the Tudor court was her childhood spent as the ward of Henry VIII's surviving wife, Katherine Parr. 

A later imagining of LJG from 1793 courtesy of the National
Portrait Gallery (Academic Licence)

When Edward VI died his untimely death, Lady Jane's husband and father moved swiftly to put her on the throne due to the fact that Edward himself had named her heir due to the issues surrounding his sister's legitimacy (left over grief from Henry's various ways of ending his marriages!). This did not go down well, however, with the soon to be queen Mary I. The Greys did not have the public's support either, and so any powerful supporters they had to the claim soon melted away. Lady Jane, her husband and father were all arrested for high treason and on November 14th, 1553, found themselves in the Tower of London facing high treason charges. Initially, Lady Jane's father was pardoned but both her and her husband were sentenced to death. Lady Jane's sentence was initially suspended. In 1554, however, a new rebellion was started in her name. This new rebellion failed and both Lady Jane and her husband (as well as her previously pardoned father who was tied up in the new rebellion) were executed. Lady Jane Grey is said in popular legend to have fainted when the plot to make her Queen as announced, and was just 17 years old when she died. She has long since been remembered as an innocent victim of her family's greed.

So what were Lady Jane's ties to Devon? 
I first saw Lady Jane's name tied to Devon whilst reading up on a manor house in Ilfracombe after being told a ghost story for my book. The suite of haunted rooms is named the Lady Jane Rooms. Intrigued, I pushed on and discovered that in fact the house there had previously belonged to Lady Jane's mother. From what I can gather in my research, there is no evidence to say whether a young Lady Jane ever spent any time in the house but it is unlikely that she lived there, however it is more than possible she visited! The main bedroom there holds a Tudor era tapestry which has a coat of arms on it which is that of a relation of the Grey family. Chambercombe Manor (the house in question) also has a history of hauntings associated with these rooms but they pertain not to Lady Jane herself, but to another lady who stayed in those rooms. (If you like ghost stories, check out some of my other posts HERE).

A famous (much later) painting of Lady Jane's Execution from 1833 (Paul Delaroche)

Whilst Lady Jane did not necessarily spend much time in Devon herself, there are actually several other close family links! Her grandparents owned a house over near the Wiltshire border named Knightstone, and her father also had a house built near Exeter - Peamore House - which reverted to the crown and was sold after his execution. Even Boringdon Hall - that gorgeous old Tudor house near Plymouth (where, incidentally, I married my first husband!) was owned by Henry Grey for a short time, before being sold on.