I often get called out to old houses or Hotels that the new owner feels have a ghost, an entity, or just an unpleasant cold feeling around the house or in a certain room.
I have also had the experience of staying at a certain Hotel and feeling the entities that live there.
Old Hotels often have resident ghosts. Some have scared me as they are malevolent; meaning I cannot sleep in a particular room, others are fascinating and give a glimpse of Past Lives and Past Times.
My ex, Stephen, once generously made a booking at the best Hotel in Devon for miles; Endsleigh House; whose camomile lawn has a pathway of old black sheep’s nails.
We lolled in the dining area, outside leaden windows on the warm perfect evening in this classy privileged house and a uniformed butler bought us Brandy Alexanders.
Stephen warned me: ‘Chris, slow down; that’s brandy; you’re like a kid with ice cream.’
‘Boozy ice cream. ‘I replied as I slurped down the cocktail in its chilled glass.
It was a fragrant, summery evening redolent with fireflies, sunset deep red, waning of the day. I can see that Endsleigh is built inside some kind of fae ring of trees.
Chris Jo Hart – Psychic Spiritual Medium.
Endsleigh is an aging house, once owned by a Duchess in love.’ I read off a leaflet. ‘She was a married man’s mistress.’
Stephen dutifully reads off the menu cover; ‘…. the house began its existence as a hunting and fishing summer retreat for the family of the Duke and Duchess of Bedford in 1814. The beautiful and magnetic Georgina, Duchess of Bedford – whose life was every bit as scandalous and dramatic as that of her more famous namesake, the Duchess of Devonshire – was married to one of the richest men in England, who owned one-third of Devon no less.
Endsleigh was commissioned by the magnetic, beautiful and scandalous Georgina, Duchess of Bedford. Married to one of the richest men in the country and lover of Edwin Landseer.
Her life revolved around Scotland, Woburn Abbey, and her beloved Endsleigh, which became known as ‘the Garden Paradise of the West’.
Georgina contracted top architect Jeffry Wyatville to bring life to her ambition. Her aim was to have a rustic but comfortable home, on a much more intimate and domestic scale than the vast marbled halls of the family seat at Woburn Abbey, and without the need for armies of servants in attendance.
Endsleigh was to be a special place for their young family, close friends, and of course her lover, the celebrated animal artist Ian Landseer, twenty years her junior and father to one of her children.’
I tune myself to the ghost frequency; which is like homing in on the radio and instead of turning the knob to hear you turn something inside your own brain.
‘I can almost feel the Duchess.’
His face goes pale. ‘Her ghost is here?’
‘Yeah. It’s here all right.’
I feel secretly pleased he’s scared.
‘Astral Dreamtime as it’s called.
‘I’m scared, Chris.’
‘Don’t be; I’ll protect you.’
Night draws in; inky, under a billion stars.
After steak dinner, we stroll along with a trimmed croquet lawn. At the very end of the clipped lawn is a little garden house made of shells with a water-well; walls lined with pink shells, huge pearly conches, little white cockles.
‘This is amazing; a magical shell house!’
‘Wonder what they used it for?’
‘Yeah, center of a faery ring.’
‘We’re staying in the upstairs study of the main house, wait till you see it.’
We’re shown by staff up to our suite; with its private staircase and two large rooms, I fall asleep whilst he bathes.
The next morning, we rise early, eat breakfast outside, then go out the French doors and stroll towards the cottage and explore the Holy Well; the surrounding meadow is sweet-scented, covered in flies, wild blue cornflowers.
In the morning sunshine, we stroll over a tiny wooden bridge.
So many flittering white butterflies.
I want to stay in this decaying cottage; a pas de deux of love.
I contemplate the yellow stone pillars, hidden doorway to a private kitchen. I admire this perfect home; Irish wolfhounds strut, antique books, a shell house, nearby wood. Stephen reads one of the books on the house as I enjoy a hot bath ready for dinner; in rose oil in a large claw foot bath in a massive bathroom with the windows wide open allowing a summer breeze to caress my wet skin. I cannot lose this love!
I cannot go back to life being isolated and it is just me.
This evening is the best evening of my entire life; because the love of my heart is beside me.
As I bathe, Stephen catches fluttering mammoth moths under large glass domes he finds in our grey painted study, suite. He’s captured moths lined up beside each other like an eccentric Butterfly collector, flittering bodies futilely battering against glass domes. I laugh.
Fragrant summer rain begins to lash against the window as I lie on the bed reading an Agatha Christie. I sigh, put my book down and watch my love staring out the window, biting his nails at the rain.
‘Stop biting; just harmless ol’ rain.’
He doesn’t turn as wind rattles window frames and I glance around: this suite, one of the finest; a personal study of the original house. I go to ‘Astral Dreamtime’ and lucidly have a vision as if I’m asleep, yet not sleeping.
I can feel her; Georgina, the long-dead mistress; her silvery ghost shimmers in the air. I can now see her; Georgina’s beautiful, wavy hair, dressed in foaming cream lace.
Yes, yes, she would look old to me; she’s from the 18th Century. Yet her face is young and she’s so fucking beautiful. I recall reading that when we die, we can return to any age we like for our astral bodies. Like Georgina, I would also choose my youth.
She stands over near Stephen.
I tell her how sorry I am that her lover left her in my head; telepathically.
She turns and spits: ‘Men don’t stay in love. Be wary of the cold fickle hearts of men. They’ll try to destroy you.’
It feels so strange to see someone long, long dead, who aches of past times; like an old book, like flicking the pages of a very old book; dust flies out, you can smell the skin of those who have gone before.
I blink and the ghost of Endsleigh House’s gone.
At times like this I consider time travel; surely, if they can do it; then so can we!
If we come out of the body; then we must be able to time travel; just like ghosts.
‘Rain’s bloody awful.’
I grin and throwback blankets.
‘But, silly, we can still play lovely chess in front of the warm fire in the drawing-room.’ I watch the sky’s dark metallic grey; like his dove-grey eyes tangled in grief.
‘Chris, I’m so so sorry. I’ve met someone else.’
My throat chokes: ‘When?’
‘I’ll leave from here, get you a cab.’
Lonely grey dolphins flip far out at sea; my world, once as expansive as God’s, now shrivels to a cold hard painful pea.
Out of the window, I can see our shell house, blurry with rain. I stand near the oak antique writing table.
I chuck his dirty white dinner shirt out of his bag. He casually removes it from the floor, shakes it, and stuffs it back into his bag.
After he leaves I bathe in what’s left of Stephen; weep in his used sheets, scented in his stale cologne.
Ghosts in houses are never as exciting as those in old Hotels.
I once stayed the night in the Mountbatten Suite in Clivedon House and was warned that it had a ghost. I couldn’t sleep as it was malevolent.
If Clivedon owners asked me to banish the ghost in the room; on arriving I will first go through each room and narrow it down to one room as being the portal or base which the entity uses as a portal to come and go.
The entity will usually use the etheric energy of a certain household member to manifest and this will often make this person feel drained of energy. It helps if the entire family is present whilst I am carrying out the cleanse. I will then treat the facilitator of the haunting so they can no longer be accessed.
The entry portal is usually up high in the house; a bedroom or an attic. I will then seal that by calling on a certain Angel I often work with; I fire up incense, use their sigil and get them to manifest and banish any other entities.
I gain extra information on who the entity is via the Angel.
I will then call up the entity and converse with them to find out what they want.
I will then banish the entity using the information on them given to me and depending on who they are, I then I will use a sealing rite to make sure the house is protected and they cannot return.
Since they use one of the occupants to harness their energy to manifest in the house; that person has to also be sealed.
The occupants will then be best off praying and making sure the portals are sealed using oils and a blessed artifact.
Is it fun being a ghostbuster for a living? Like most things it becomes dull; like most jobs, it can be draining. My reward is seeing the relief on the face of the owner, keeping in touch, and hearing that they no longer have a problem; it’s that makes it all worthwhile.