The Monk's Return

Well, I have not done a ghost story in a long time and I know some of you really enjoy them. So, on this dark, cold and gloomy January day it seems appropriate to post one.

The church of St. Bartholomew the Great is the oldest parish church in London. It possesses a dark and mysterious interior, the ancient walls of which drip with atmosphere and a strange aura. It has been used for location filming and some noteable movies that have included the church are Robin Hood Prince of Thieves and Four Weddings and a Funeral.

The church is most definitely haunted. Even its beginnings are tinged with the supernatural. Rahere, a man who, according to legend, was once a jester at the court of King Henry 1st, founded it in 1123.

In November 1120, the King’s only son and heir had been drowned when the White Ship was lost in a winter storm off Calais. The court was plunged into despondency, and Rahere fell out of love with being a jester and opted to become a monk - which seemed a rather strange choice - and set off on a Pilgrimage to Rome. Whilst there, he fell dangerously ill with malaria and on his death bed vowed, that if he were cured and allowed to return to his own country, he would ‘erect a hospital for the restoration of poor men.’ Miraculously, Rahere’s prayer was answered, and he duly set off for England. But on the way he had a terrible dream in which he was seized by fearful winged creature and taken up onto a high ledge where he was set down, teetering on the brink of a yawning chasm. Just as he was about to fall, the radiant figure of St Bartholomew appeared at his side, and told Rahere that he had come to save him. In return, said the saint, “in my name thou shalt found a church…in London, at Smedfeld (Smithfield).” Thus the church was founded as was the hospital next door to it - St. Bartholomews affectionately known as “Barts”. Rahere oversaw their construction and did preach in the church. It is also possible that when he fell sick with his final illness, he was nursed in the hospital he had created. When he died in 1145, Rahere was buried inside his beloved church.

His tomb now stands to the left of the altar, its reverse side clearly showing the results of a hasty repair carried out in the nineteenth century when the parish officials decided to report upon the state of the founder’s body. To their amazement his body was well preserved, and even the clothes and sandals are said to have been intact. A few days after the tomb had been  re-sealed, one of the church officers fell ill and confessed that, when the tomb had been open, he had stolen one of Rahere's sandals. He gave it back and recovered, but it was never returned to the foot of its rightful owner, and since that day Rahere has haunted the church as a shadowy, hooded figure that appears from the gloom, brushes past astonished witnesses, and fades slowly into thin air.

His spirit is very active and has been seen by many people, both in the body of the church and also standing in the pulpit where he appears to be giving a sermon.

In May 1999, the then verger of the church, John Caster, who lived in the house next door, was woken early one morning by a telephone call from the security company, informing him that the alarms were going off inside the church. Entering the building he turned on the lights and conducted a brief search. The church was empty. Switching the lights off, he was about to leave, when he clearly heard the measured tread of slapping footsteps, walking down the central aisle. He called out, “who’s there?” whereupon the footsteps stopped for a moment. But then they resumed and continued along the aisle. Convinced there was an intruder, he locked the doors and called the police. They arrived within minutes, but could find no sign of anyone inside the building. Furthermore, no windows or doors were open. The next morning the alarm company sent an engineer to check and reset the motion triggered alarms. Both he and John were astonished to discover that only the central beam, the one that passes Rahere’s tomb, had been broken. The beams by the doors, and the side and top aisles had not been breached, meaning that whatever, or whoever, was responsible, had somehow managed to simply “appear” at the centre of the church. It was then that John remembered that the footsteps had sounded like sandals, slapping over the stone floor of the old church.  It would seem Rahere was doing a nightly inspection.

*Footnote.  I used to visit this church regularly as a child of around seven or eight when my father was very seriously ill for several weeks in Barts hospital.  My mother and I would call in at the church to pray for my father.  Even at that young age I found the place very spooky.  Later on when I was working in London, not too far away, I sometimes visited again as I did many London churches because I love the history of them.  I admit that on one occasion whilst in there with just two other people, I did see a shadowy but sort of transparent figure moving down the church.  I did not stop to investigate.  I could not wait to make it out back into the outside world.

THROUGH A DOG'S EYES has a new chapter.