Berkeley Square

I have been in London today, mostly at the National Portrait Gallery to catch the war Portraits Exhibition before it closes tomorrow.

This is a very tenuous link to DDW's Movie challenge 'The Graduate' as the Californian town of Berkeley is mentioned within the plot. With a little bit of googling (is that a verb?) I found the tale of Number 50, Berkeley Square, being the most haunted house in London. It is now home to an Antiquarian Bookseller and looked pretty innocuous. However, I don't think I'd want to spend the night there - just in case! And no, there was neither sight nor sound of the nightingale!

If you have time to read the story below, you'll see what I mean!

Number 50 Berkeley Square was once the home of George Canning, a former Prime Minister, until his death in 1827. It was then leased by a Miss Curzon, who lived in it up to her death at the ripe old age of 90. It was then occupied by a Mr Myers and it was with his tenancy that the house's sinister reputation apparently began.

The story goes he was due to be married and had furnished the house in a manner befitting his forthcoming and changing domestic circumstances. But, shortly before the wedding, his bride to be jilted him and the heartbroken Myers became a recluse. He moved into a tiny room at the top of the building where, alone with his memories, he lived day after day never seeing a living soul and only ever coming out at night to walk through the rooms by candlelight with the flickering flame of the candle casting a dull glow from the windows as he drifted from room to room.

There are several ghost stories about the property, which have, over the years, found their way into countless books and articles about haunted London.

One tells of a man who moved in with his two teenage daughters, the eldest of which immediately complained of a strange musty smell that, she said, was rather like that of the animals cages at the zoo. Later, the elder girl's fiancé, a Captain Kentfield, was due to visit the house and a maid-servant was asked to prepare his room. No sooner had she gone upstairs to do so than the household heard terrified screams coming from the room. Rushing to assist, they found her collapsed on the floor, muttering to herself "don't let it touch me." They were unable to ascertain exactly what it was, as the girl died in hospital following day.

Unperturbed by the fate of the servant girl Captain Kentfield announced that he would spend the night in the room. He duly headed upstairs by candlelight, and the household heard him close the door. Thirty minutes later, terrible screams were heard coming from the room, followed by a gunshot. They rushed to his aid but found him dead on the floor, his face twisted in terror.

Evidently something evil lurked in the ether of this room at Number 50, Berkeley Square, and Charles Harper in Haunted Houses whetted his readers appetites by melodramatically describing it as an "unnamed Raw Head and Bloody Bones..."