There are enough allegations of emotionally charged events at the Borley Rectory, located near the Suffolk border in the eastern portion of England, to fill all of those requirements. During a séance, co-held by Harry Price, a paranormal investigator who had leased the premise in the late 30’s from Reverend Lionel Foyster and his wife, Marianne, he would uncover what he felt to be one of the strongest presences at Borley Rectory. But before we reveal the results of that séance, a brief history of the house is in order.
The history of Borley Rectory begins with the building of a gothic Benedictine monastery in the 13th century. Those were not genteel times and legend has it that a monk and his lovely young love-interest, a nun from a nearby convent, were both done-in while trying to elope the establishment and start a new life together. They were captured and the monk was hung while his fiancé was walled up, alive in the cold walls of her convent. Two lovers torn apart to be isolated forever… Was it she who had been seen wafting through the garden, head bent in sorrow? Was she the girl in white who roamed the property searching for her lost love?
After its stint as a monastery, it was sold off as a residence and a rectory was soon added in 1862 by Rev. Henry Bull and his family. Reverend Bull had become pastor of Borley Church in 1862 and despite local warnings, built the rectory on a site believed by locals to be haunted. Over the years, Bull’s servants and his daughters were repeatedly unnerved by phantom rappings, unexplained footsteps and the appearance of ghosts. Reverend Bull seemed to find these happenings as wildly entertaining and he and his son, Harry, even constructed a summerhouse on the property where they could enjoy after-dinner cigars and pleasurably idle away the time waiting for an appearance of the phantom nun who roamed the property.
After Reverand Bull passed on in one of the more famous of the haunted rooms (the Blue Room), his son Harry inherited the establishment and position until he himself passed on in 1927. Following Harry’s footsteps was Rev. Guy Smith who was so unnerved by the spectral sights and sounds, that he left the rectory just one year after moving in.
After Smith’s hasty departure, the house was then inhabited by Reverend Lionel Foyster and his wife, Marianne. The house only seemed to be getting warmed up as their experiences grew in intensity and frequency. Without any explanation, they found themselves locked out of rooms, windows would suddenly smash and personal items would vanish under their noses. Ịt wasn’t uncommon for them to hear unnerving noises from all over the house. As time went on, these mischievous antics turned aggressive and Marianne was actually accosted one evening. She was thrown off her bed in the middle of the night and even slapped by invisible hands of which she was helpless to do anything about! The final straw was when she was nearly made unconscious by a mattress that was held over her face. Someone obviously didn’t like Marianne. Perhaps it was jealousy from a female ghost that caused these physical transgressions?
The involvement of Harry Price came about after a paper asked him to investigate these poltergeists activity following a popular story written by the paper. It was during his investigation that writings on the wall started to appear, usually when Marianne was present. The writing’s ghostly owner seemed more sympathetic to Marianne compared to the other ghosts as some of the messages scrawled were, “Marianne, please help get” and “Marianne light mass prayers”.
Price was more of a guest at the manor until the Foysters moved out in 1935 at which point he leased the house for a full year for deeper investigation. Now that Price had the house to himself for an extended period, he ran an ad for other paranormal investigators to help him monitor and document the ghostly activities. He had to weed through some not-so-savory types though, but he ended up working with 40 people to uncover some of the fascinating history of Borley Rectory.
During a séance, an alleged spirit named Marie Lairre came through and told the group that she had been a nun in France but had left her convent to marry Henry Waldegrave, the son of a wealthy family whose home had previously stood on the site of Borley Rectory. The tale turned grim when she declared that her husband had taken her life and placed her remains in the cellar. To Price, she seemed to fit the profile of the ghost that haunted Borley Rectory.
One spirit during a séance even gave a fascinating prediction that the former nun’s body would be found in the ruins. Though the spirit said the house would burn down that night, thus revealing the location of the bones, it wasn’t until 11 months later that a fire was started by the new owner, Captain WH Gregson, as he was unpacking library books when an oil lamp fell over and started a fire. The fire spread fast through the manor and the rectory was in shambles, later to be demolished in 1944.
Since previously unattainable areas were now exposed, Price decided to excavate the cellar where he indeed found a few small bones, which seemed to be those of a young woman. Was this the proof needed to validate the story of the betrayed nun? Regardless who the woman was, she was given a proper religious burial and finally laid to rest.
---taken from: http://www.yourghoststories.com/famous-ghost-stories/borley-rectory-haunting.php
"Gosh, I hope I am not late." I uttered under my breath.
Then, the elevator doors opened. I walked in and pressed the "9" button. As the elevator made its way up, I could hear the cranking and clonking that you would normally not hear in a crowded elevator; it was already long after regular office hours.
When the elevator doors sprung open, I peered out into the dark corridor to see if I was at the right level. The elevator indicator lights were out of order so I had no idea what level I was on.
I was relieved when I saw Mary's office at the end of the dimly lit corridor. I stepped out of the elevator and began to walk. My heels hit hard onto the tiled floor, creating echoes through the corridor.
Click clock, click clock, click clock...
As I walked, my shadows, cast by the few working ceiling lamps, shortened and lengthened against the floor and walls. It made me nervous. I turned to look over my shoulders to see if there was anyone behind me. (I don't know why I was so nervous.) Obviously there was no one else around.
Through her fully glassed-walled office, I saw Mary typing away on her computer keyboard. She had not noticed me, so I opened the door and peered in. Mary looked up and I smiled. I saw that Mary was a little surprised. I wondered why she should be; she knew I was coming. When I stepped in and let the glass door close behind me, Mary frowned and stared at me as though I had done something wrong.
"What's the matter, Mary?" I asked, concerned.
"Who's that with you?" Mary pointed with her pouted lips to the corridor outside.
Puzzled, I turned to look at where she pointed. I saw no one.
"There's no one there, Mary." I said, beginning to feel rather spooked. "I came alone." I added.
Mary frowned even firmer, and said, "There's a man outside the door, he was behind you, but you closed the door before he could enter. Why?"
I stood dumbfounded and stared at her in disbelief. I didn't say a word.
He is wearing a white polo shirt." Mary added, her face turning slightly pale.
Goose bumps began to crawl all over my back, arms, and neck. I felt panic on the way. In my head, weird notions started to spin: What if someone or something wanted to harm us? Just two girls in an office building that supposed to be closed for the day. Gosh, what do we do? Part of me wanted to scream, but the other held me down.
Then, when I saw Mary staring out into the corridor, her face turning paler every second, I lost my composure and shouted.
"MARY! WHAT DO YOU SEE?"
Lips trembling, Mary quivered a few words.
"He's medium built and wearing a white Polo T-shirt. Don't you see him?" Mary had come almost to tears.
I went close to Mary and held her.
"Where? Where?" I kept saying.
"I can't see him anymore. I think he went away." Mary said in a whisper.
I am very sure I was alone that night when I walked through the corridor. I remember looking to the corridor before entering Mary's office. There was no one behind me!
Of course Mary and I didn't go out of the office alone after the scary apparition. We called the security guard and asked him to escort us down.
Till today, when I think of the incident, I get goose bumps. In fact, I've got goose bumps right now as I type this story.
When Mary told her colleagues about our experience, her colleagues replied that they had heard of others who had had similar experiences. Everyone concluded the building was haunted.
Fortunately, the building burnt down some years ago (no one knows how), and had been demolished.
It wasn’t easy to join our group, nor were we looking for additional members. We enjoyed ourselves being “bad” girls – well not the kind that you probably would have in mind. We were still conservative in our unique ways.
Anyway, we always frequent the girl’s restroom for a make over, smoke and the usual gossip. One day, on one of our routine smoking sessions, a girl we never saw before came in and started fixing her hair. She totally ignored us – that was disrespectful! We were furious at her audacity, for no one - and I mean no one - would dare come in the girls' room when we were in there.
We stared at her hard but she, apparently, wasn’t intimidated at all. So Jackie, being the most assertive of us, nudged her and went with her face close to her cheek. The room became so silent, you could literally hear a pin drop. It was a tense moment and we were all at the edge of our breaths. Then suddenly, the stranger turned her head sharply toward Jackie! Jackie screamed, and that led to a chain reaction of screams from Marie and me as well. Jackie jolted backwards and nearly tripped over my foot.
We stood there in horror! Was she going to hurt us? Were we doomed for all the things we had done against many girls like her? These questions went through our minds equally. We stood there staring at her face which was blue, and her eyes were bloodshot and popped halfway out of the sockets!
It is the most horrendous, most scary thing I have ever seen in my life! I've been scared by sights in the movies but nothing beats this!
After that incident, we stopped using the girls' room as often, and vowed not to bully anyone anymore.
Apparently, others have also seen the “ghost-girl” but only as a reflection in the mirror.
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