THE HAUNTING OF HOAR CROSS HALL: (Based on a true story) The typewriter keys clattered away as Viv wrote her story. It was coming along nicely and she was feeling pleased with herself. The attic room that she and her brothers had made into their ‘den’ was ideal for getting away from everybody and having some peace and quiet and she quite forgot about the time as she lost herself in the plot. Suddenly she looked up and realised how dark it was getting; the December nights were pulling in and it was already quite dusky by 3.30pm. Quickly she packed her books and folders away and prepared to go downstairs. How she hated being up in the attics when it was getting dark as it was so spooky! The wind was starting to howl outside and the familiar sound of a banging window started. Viv sighed and stood in the doorway of the room – should she go and investigate or leave it? Against her better judgement she walked up the corridor towards the noise and checked all the rooms but as usual all the windows were shut tight. The banging continued along with the familiar prickle down her spine. She needed to get out of here and quick! As she turned to go back along the corridor towards the other end she could hear people talking but not clearly, just a general babble of voices. Viv was in a complete panic now as she knew there was no-one up there and she started to run along the corridor willing the noises to stop, feeling the knot in her stomach and sensing the sheer terror in her mind as she ran to get away from the voices, the people, the footsteps.
The green baize door banged behind her and Viv breathed a sigh of relief. She’d made it out alive! At least that’s what it felt like; she vowed never to go up to the attics again on her own or in the afternoon. She gradually stopped shaking and went to find her mother who was putting up Christmas decorations in the Library. This was where they spent Christmas Day as, not only was it a nice room, but it had a large fireplace which meant a roaring log fire to keep them warm. Viv forgot about the attic tenants as she helped trim the tree and listened to her mother telling her about the new tenants that were moving into the West Wing apartment.
“I hope they don’t hear all those weird noises that we hear,” said Viv. “They might leave!”
Her mother laughed and told her that ghosts usually disappeared once a house was being lived in again. Viv sincerely hoped so!
A week later, despite her vows about going to the attics, Viv was sitting in the den typing her story. Her brother Gavin had come up with her to keep her company but had got bored and gone downstairs again. However, it was a bright, sunny morning this time so Viv wasn’t scared. Suddenly she became aware of a little girl standing near the doorway staring at her.
“Hello,” she said. “Who are you?”
“Alice,” the child answered. “I’ve come from the west wing.”
“Oh, you must be the new tenants,” Viv said, wondering how she had found her way up to the attic. “Do your parents know you’re here?”
The child stared back but didn’t answer.
Viv tried again.
“Are you going to a party? That’s a very pretty dress you have on.”
Alice shook her head and moved into the room.
“Can I do some drawing please,” she asked.
Viv pushed some paper and pens towards her and Alice sat at the table drawing a picture of a house. She was very quiet so Viv let her get on with it while she typed. A little while later she decided to go downstairs for lunch and told Alice she had to go back to her apartment or her parents would be wondering where she was. The child did as she was told and ran off down the corridor towards the west wing. Viv followed to make sure she got back safely but when she reached the top of the spiral staircase Alice had disappeared.
“Wow, she sure moves quick,” thought Viv and turned to go back along the corridor to the spiral staircase at the other end of the house.
A few days later Viv and Gavin were rummaging through the dressing up box trying to find Christmas outfits – they wanted to dress their little brother Piers up in Victorian clothes. Their mother was helping them and they had a lot of fun pretending to be different characters. That evening there was a knock on the lounge door upstairs and their mother, Gwynyth, opened it to see a small child standing there.
“Is that you Piers?” she asked in astonishment. She thought the children had dressed him up again for a joke. “Get back to bed, it’s really late!”
The child ran down the bedroom corridor and Gwynyth followed but soon lost sight of him as the light was very dim. It was as though he had disappeared into thin air. The double doors at the end of the corridor led to the West Wing apartment but they were securely locked.
Gwynyth glanced into the boys’ bedroom but both were fast asleep. How strange, she thought and went back to the lounge.
The next day Viv was helping to clean the Library. This was her favourite room as it had two secret doors built into the walls masquerading as bookshelves; when they were closed you couldn’t see them at all. She dusted all the shelves, looked at a few books then decided to polish the mirror which stood on the mantlepiece above the fireplace. It was a lovely old gilt framed mirror so Viv was very careful with it. As she peered closely into it trying to remove a mark she suddenly jumped back – there before her was the face of a little girl! Viv gathered herself and slowly moved back towards the mirror. Sure enough, there were the eyes, a nose and lots of curly hair – if she didn’t know any better she could have sworn that it was Alice! A giggle erupted behind her and as she turned she saw Alice standing by one of the secret doors.
“Hello,” said Viv. “Do you want to play?”
Alice smiled and ran through the door. Viv followed close behind but as she emerged from the doorway into the Ballroom Alice was nowhere to be seen.
“Hey, are you hiding Alice? Do you want to play hide and seek?” called Viv. She looked at all the Victorian costumes that were on display in the Ballroom and wondered if she was hiding behind one of the large dresses, but a quick look round revealed nothing. All of a sudden Viv realized that Alice’s dress was very old fashioned, not unlike the costumes on display with their ribbons and bows. The familiar prickle went down her spine and she was glad that it was day time as she went back into the Library. As she wandered over to the mirror she looked again at the face so clearly seen in the bottom corner. A cold shiver went over her body as the face smiled at her.
Viv sat up in bed, startled out of her sleep by someone knocking on her bedroom door. The bedside clock told her it was 3am. An absolute dread came over her as she wondered who it could be.
“Who is it?” she called out, tremulously.
“Alice.”
Viv jumped out of bed and opened the door. Alice stood there in a long nightgown and mop cap. She went shivery all over but assumed it was the cold.
“What are you doing out of bed at this time of the night?” asked Viv. “Your parents will be worried.”
Alice just stared at her and started to drift away, then turned and ran towards the West Wing. Viv watched in horror as Alice ran right through the double doors and disappeared in front of her eyes. Quickly she stepped back into her room and locked the door. How was she going to sleep now? Her whole body was shaking with fear but after a while she calmed down and decided to sleep in her brothers’ room next door – at least she wouldn’t be on her own. However, she didn’t get much sleep.
“Mrs Meynell is here to see us, children,” Gwynyth called. “Come into the Library and we’ll have a cup of tea and some mince pies.”
The children came running at the sound of food and soon they were getting stuck into the pies. Mrs Meynell had come to wish them a Merry Christmas and had brought them a card and some small gifts. Soon she was regaling them with stories of the Hall from when she and her family had lived there in the 1930s. She told them about the noises in the attic and how the servants complained about sleeping up there. Then she told them about someone knocking on their bedroom doors in the middle of the night. After that she told them about a little girl that used to run around the house, who could be heard giggling, of a room in the basement where the door always got stuck and the handle could be seen moving on it’s own. A long dead Butler who haunted the Entrance Hall. So many stories! Viv sat listening in amazement, enraptured.
“Did you find out who the little girl was?” she eventually asked.
“Oh yes,” answered Mrs Meynell. “She lived here during the Victorian days and had been left alone in the west wing nursery one evening after she’d been put to bed. Her nursemaid had popped down to the kitchens to get a snack and while she was gone, poor little Alice had a fit and sadly died.”
They all looked suitably sympathetic and started to talk of other, more pleasurable things except for Viv who sat there open mouthed.
“Are you all right, dear?" asked Mrs Meynell.
"Yes.......yes thank-you," stammered Viv, gathering her thoughts. She quickly looked up at the mirror and the face of Alice smiled back.
Don't miss next week's Christmas story - Alice through the Looking Glass
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Viv Wilson | 29th October 2025 | Growing Up In a Stately Home
Going to sleep in a big old house is quite scary when you’re young but going to sleep in a big old house that’s haunted is even more scary!! As we approach Hallowe'en my mind has gone back to that first winter at Hoar Cross Hall and all the scary things that happened - and that was without any trick or treaters in those days! We quickly realised that we weren’t the only inhabitants of the house when we moved there in the 1970s. Every time there was a windy night I could hear a window banging in the attic – all night long it kept me awake. The next day I would go upstairs to the attics to close it but there would be no windows open or even loose. They were all tightly shut as they had been for the previous 20 years, when the house had stood empty. I remember standing there in the attic rooms feeling a tingling down my spine and goose bumps all over as I felt the atmosphere closing in on me - and I quickly legged it back downstairs! On other nights we would hear people walking along the attic corridor (the attic, by the way, was the floor right above our bedroom floor) and then at other times we could hear heavy furniture being dragged about – yet there was nothing up there as the rooms were all empty! How strange! Other members of the family heard it too and also people that stayed overnight, so it wasn’t the imaginings of a frightened child. There was also nobody else in the house at that point, apart from our family and they definitely weren’t walking about the house at 3am. And why is it that these things always happen in the middle of the night? When it’s dark. When we feel most scared? I often woke up at 3am whether there were noises or not – or perhaps there had been a noise and that’s what had woken me up – who knows? I also loved reading books about old houses, mysteries and ghosts but when you actually live in one in real life, it’s a bit different! The spooky attic The first few years at Hoar Cross Hall were the worst ones for spiritual activity - maybe we'd disturbed the ghosts who were used to an empty house and not one with children running about everywhere! Our family consisted of my mother, father and two younger brothers; my parents being members of the Historical Society were keen to buy a house to show my dad's huge arms and armour collection along with many antiques. But we hadn't bargained with the house being haunted! My mum was often woken up by the sight of a little girl ‘floating’ over the bed. She said the girl was wearing a long nightdress and mop cap and seemed to be stretching her arms out to my mum as if she was asking for help. She floated all around the bed scaring my mum half to death. Frantically she tried to wake my dad while the ghoulish girl reached out - by the time my dad was awake the child was fading away and he missed it all! If you haven’t already worked it out, long nighties and mop caps were the ‘go to’ fashion trend back in the Victorian days! She saw her a few times on the staircase too just standing in the corridor before fading away. This made me terrified to go upstairs to bed on my own and once inside my room I would lock the doors and burrow down under the blankets so I wouldn't see or hear anything - quite forgetting that ghosts can walk through walls! The haunted bedroom corridor When I got older it was great to have parties in the attics as we could play our rock music really loud and no-one would hear it! My dad had made the west wing of the house (the old Victorian nurseries) into an apartment which we rented out and it was here that my 18th birthday was celebrated as we had become friends with the people that lived there. As everyone had heard about the ghost stories at the Hall, we made an ouija board and tried to contact the spirits. Most people had had a few spirits of a different kind by then and we sat around the table watching the glass move aroun...
Viv Wilson | 24th September 2025 | Growing Up In a Stately Home
With the new Downton Abbey film out this month I thought I would do a comparison of the two family homes, Downton and Hoar Cross Hall, the latter being my old family home for those of you who are new to these blogs. Although Downton Abbey is fictional, the house on which it is based is not, it being Highclere Castle in Hampshire which was built in 1679 and is owned by the Earl of Carnarvon. Hoar Cross Hall was the original home of the Meynell Ingram family who first came from Leicestershire and was built in 1863. Hugo Meynell of Quorndon was the High Sheriff of Staffordshire and Member of Parliament for Lichfield and the family owned considerable property in Staffordshire, Shropshire and Derbyshire. He bought the Hoar Cross estate in 1793 and built a hunting lodge there known as Old Hall and founded the Meynell Hunt. It seemed the family lived here for many years until Hugo’s grandson, also Hugo, got married in 1863 and decided to build the present Hall for him and his wife, Emily Charlotte. The house took nine years to build and was eventually finished in 1871. Hugo and Emily had already moved in, but their new life together was soon to be cut short by a tragic accident. Fourteen months earlier at Birch Wood on their estate Hugo had a horse riding accident and had been bed-ridden ever since – he died in May of that year. They had no children and Emily built The Church of the Holy Angels in the grounds of the hall in memory of her husband. This is the church that I got married in over a hundred years later. On Hugo’s death Emily inherited the family's many large estates and they say she was a double millionairess – which in those days was a huge amount of money! Emily Charlotte The original site of Highclere Castle was recorded in the Doomsday Book of 1086 when an Anglo-Saxon king granted the estate to the Bishops of Winchester and in the 14th century a palace was built there by the Bishop. However, it was confiscated during the Reformation by Henry VIII. Later it was rebuilt in 1679 by Sir Robert Sawyer, Attorney-General to Charles II and looks to have stayed in his family ever since. The Downton Abbey story seems to be very similar to the Highclere Castle one actually! In the early part of the 20th century Downton is owned by the Earl of Grantham who marries an American heiress to save the family home. At about the same time Highclere was owned by the Earl of Carnarvon who also married the heiress to the Rothschild fortune and received a very large dowry. (In case you're wondering, a dowry is a sum of money or property given by the bride's family to the groom's family upon their marriage, and has historically been practiced by various cultures over the years). During the First World War, Highclere opened the house up as a hospital with the then Lady Carnarvon assisting as a nurse. In the Downton story Lord Grantham opens up the house to be used as a hospital for injured officers and some of the family assist in nursing them back to health. The Meynell family at Hoar Cross Hall also offered their home to be used as a hospital but were told that it was unsuitable owing to its isolation and inaccessibility in the country. However, Lady Mary Meynell opened her London home in Lennox Gardens to be used as a Military Hospital for officers during the First World War. Indeed, her own son, Francis, stayed there for a while recovering from severe wounds to the back in 1917, something which he never really recovered from resulting in his early death in 1941 at the age of 52. Hoar Cross Hall was too remote Although these aristocratic families seemed to live very charmed lives (and a lot of them did!) they also ran their estates to provide food and farm the land. This also gave local people much needed employment although being a domestic servant in those days could be quite hard with long hours and not much down time. However, they were families like the rest of us with the...
Viv Wilson | 19th August 2025 | Growing Up In a Stately Home
When Hugo and Emily Meynell built Hoar Cross Hall it included a whole estate with it, namely kitchen gardens, greenhouses, stables, a farm and cottages. This was quite common in those days as the estate supported the house with food etc and also gave employment to local people. Old Hall (their original home) was also on the estate and was accessed via a private road, which ran from the main road. By the time the 1970s came along the stable block and Old Hall were private houses and another part of Old Hall had been made into a children’s home. Emily Meynell had started this home in the Victorian days, calling it ‘The Home of the Good Shepherd’ but it was for boys only at that time. When we were there it was a mixed home and run by a husband and wife couple. They used to have fetes there in the summer and we would sometimes go round to play with the children, as they had lots of climbing frames and slides. The private road also joined up to our woods near the driveway and this is the road I walked along every day, up to the main road, to catch the bus to school in nearby Uttoxeter. It was about half a mile but I hated walking through the woods, especially in the winter when the mornings were darker. One day, whilst walking round Uttoxeter at lunchtime, I saw a newspaper board telling everyone about a streaker that had run through the town the day before – what was this? A man running naked for the fun of it? On further investigation I found that this was the latest craze from America – but why anyone would want to do it in our cold country was beyond me! Streaking comes to Britain! I was not an academic by any means and hated my schooldays. I was constantly being teased for being too thin, too quiet or for living in a stately home. (This was from the teachers too!) so when it was time for 'skools out for summer' I was more than ready to leave! By now the Mediaeval Banquets, which my parents ran in the house, were proving a huge success and as package holidays were becoming very popular my parents decided to book a two week holiday abroad. My dad had always wanted to go to Greece to see all the temples but was a bit disappointed when he got there. Most of the temples were in ruins and once you’ve seen one ruin you’ve pretty much seen them all! The Acropolis was quite impressive though. I loved being abroad – the weather was so hot and the sea was always warm. Cold climes don’t suit me as I feel the cold so much so I would always be outdoors as soon as the sun was out - most of my summer holidays were spent in the gardens weeding whilst listening to Radio 1 on my little portable radio, although usually I dreaded the school holidays as it meant I was stuck at home for six weeks, rarely seeing my friends. Ticket to the bullfight Because of the success of the banquets it meant we could go abroad every year and other holidays included trips to Majorca, Portugal and Spain. I remember in Majorca going on a lovely train ride through orange groves and gardens to the Caves of Drach – the scenery was stunning with mountains watching over us from their great height. In Portugal we went to see a bull fight which I found both thrilling and frightening all at once. The matadors came so close to the bull but I hated that they had to stab them first to make them angry – it seemed so cruel. In Spain we went to a club one night to see some flamenco dancing and they pulled me up onto the stage to join in which was fun, if unexpected! We also went on a day trip to Morocco and walked around the Kasbah, which was the local market (see header picture). I remember hoards of children following us around trying to sell us things. My dad noticed one of the stallholders smiling at me and said for a joke “You can have her for two camels”. Well, the man never left our side after that – he took it very seriously and followed us all round the market trying to n...
Viv Wilson | 25th June 2025 | Growing Up In a Stately Home
With the summer season well and truly upon us and Wimbledon almost here, I thought a blog about tennis might be in order! The game of tennis first started in the Mediaeval days and involved hitting a ball with a bare hand and later with a glove. By the 16th century the glove had become a racquet and the game had moved to an enclosed playing area and the rules had stabilized. This was known as ‘real tennis’. The word tennis came into use in English in the mid-14th century from French, via the Anglo-Norman term Tenez, which can be translated as 'hold', 'receive' or 'take', a call from the server to his opponent indicating that he is about to serve. It seems that royalty and the upper classes played tennis a lot, with Henry VIII making the biggest impact as a young monarch, playing the game with gusto at Hampton Court! However, the game was actually invented in Birmingham (England) and is the direct descendant of what is now denoted ‘real tennis’ or ‘royal tennis’ and continues to be played today with more complex rules. Many original courts still remain at Oxford, Cambridge, Falkland Palace in Fife, Scotland and Hampton Court Palace. Wimbledon itself is the oldest tennis tournament in the world and arguably the most famous. Since the first tournament 148 years ago in 1877, The Championships have been hosted by the All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club in Wimbledon, London and take place over two weeks in late June – early July. Tennis became popular because of the waning interest in croquet and the Club decided to organise a tennis tournament to pay for the repair of its pony roller, used to maintain the lawns. It must have been popular as its still going strong! Although you may enjoy the tennis I think people love the strawberries and cream too that are famously served there! Or you may like a tour around the museum - check it out here Wimbledon Many stately homes would have had tennis courts including Hoar Cross Hall. However, when we moved there in the 1970s you couldn’t see them at all as the grass had grown long and wild and it looked liked a wilderness. In fact, we didn’t even know that there were tennis courts there until Mrs Meynell, the previous owner, told us! Mowing the old tennis courts in 1984 Of course, back in the 1930s the younger members of the Meynell family often played on them during their weekend house parties (see header picture). One young man who became a close friend of the Meynell family made regular visits to Hoar Cross and recalled the happy times he spent there as “.....the last days of the traditional English country house with weekend parties full of gracious living and good company.” The people who came to the parties were usually young aristocrats such as Lady Diana Legge and her sister Lady Elisabeth Bassett, who was lady-in-waiting to the Queen Mother from 1959 – 1993, when she retired at the age of 85! (see below) Lady Elizabeth (in the dark dress) Am-dram at a weekend house party on the tennis courts! I remember Mrs Meynell recalling a funny story about when they moved out of the Hall to a smaller house in the neighbouring village. Apparently her husband had come home one day to tell her he’d bought the house (without even consulting her) and the reason was that it had hard tennis courts, 'so much better than our grass ones' he told her! How different things were in those days – however, the servants were very pleased about the move as it meant less rooms to clean! And also less mowing now that they had hard courts! Don't miss next month's blog: 'Summer Balls and Garden Parties' If you would like to follow my story from the beginning, please click here and feel free to share with your friends.Follow me on a personal tour of my childhood home on YouTube. Click here to view and subscribe to my channel.OUT NOW!! 'My Dad Bought a Mansion' book is available on Amazon....
I have been saying for some time now that my book is about to hit the Amazon market -well, the time has finally come and
'My Dad Bought a Mansion' is out now for all to see and buy!
A compilation of all my blogs plus a few spicy extras! Along with over 100 original photos’ including some historical pics over 100 years old.
Hope you take the time to check it out and give me some feedback, and if you buy it, then a big 'Thank-you' from me - Enjoy!