Reading time: 4 minutes
Craiglockhart, a creepy old building in Edinburgh, is the focus of guest writer JOSS CAMERON’s contribution to John S. Tantalon’s chilling new paranormal collection, Tales from the Crypts of Auld Reekie.
The new book by John S Tantalon, Stories from the crypts of Auld Reekie, will be released this month. It is the Edinburgh-based paranormal author’s fourth release and his first to feature stories from other guest contributors. Joss Cameron is an award-winning singer and songwriter from Edinburgh.
Her chapter, ‘Walking in the Footsteps of Ghosts’, contains a selection of Scottish folktales and a personal account of a terrifying experience. Here’s a terrifying one, centered around the Craiglockhart Hydrotherapy Hospital.
Following in the footsteps of ghosts at Craiglockhart
In or around 1976, my mother went to college. The location is Craiglockhart Catholic Training College. The grand building that housed the college has a fascinating history. The building was initially owned by Alexander Monro, professor of anatomy at the University of Edinburgh. In 1877 the estate became the property of the Craiglockhart Hydropathic Company, which began building a hydropathic institute. Between 1916 and 1919 the building was used as a military psychiatric hospital to treat officers who were in shock.
Among Craiglockhart’s many patients were the poets Siegfried Sassoon and Wilfred Owen, whose poems appeared in the hospital magazine The Hydra. Wilfred Owen was the magazine’s editor during his stay. Siegfried Sassoon was sent to Craiglockhart in response to his ‘Soldier’s Declaration’, an anti-war letter. He later wrote about his experiences in the hospital in his semi-autobiographical novel.
The horrors from the trenches of the First World War left many in a state of unprecedented trauma. The hydrotherapy facilities at the hospital may have helped some, but for many the trauma of war was all too much for the broken minds of those involved.
My memories of Craiglockhart are of carefree times. I remember the staff being extremely friendly and accommodating while my mother was taking classes in the building. I was given free rein to explore the substantial estate and wandering grounds. I remember a nun who showed incredible kindness and gave me free chips and juice.
During my adventures in the Craiglockhart grounds I played alone for hours. On one of these occasions I was drawn to an upper part of the main building.
At the top was a large and tall tower, a belfry, if you like. As I recall, it was midday and there was still daylight. The sky darkens in the fading light. Although the tower was not spectacular, it held my attention that day. After a moment I realized my gaze was drawn to someone in the tower; they were looking at me from above.
The man was dressed in a long coat, perhaps an old-fashioned trench coat. He stood still and looked at me with a blank expression. Even though I was at a distance, I could see his sad and expressionless face. As soon as I broke my gaze and looked away, the man was gone. I thought he was now descending the stairs to where I stood below, and thus fled hastily to locate my mother.
As the months passed, I saw the exact figure in the long coat three times. Each time the man stared at me with a look of sadness. Almost as if he was looking past me and at something or someone behind me. Every time I checked to see if anyone was around, the man disappeared from view.
After a while, I was so stunned by the man’s presence that I decided to relay the story to my mother. She joined me that day in the privacy of Craiglockhart and looked up at the high tower with me. On this occasion there was no trace of the man or anyone else near the belfry.
My mother took it upon herself to relay the story to the college staff and explained my predicament as to why the man would be standing there. The bewildered employee insisted that I could only be mistaken. She told us that the tower section was vacant and had been closed off for years. She would later tell my mother the reason behind the tower’s closure.
During the building’s time as a convalescent home, there were an alarming number of recorded fatalities. The exact number is not known, but several suicides have been recorded from that time. The tower was a catalyst for the number of residents dying from jumping from the tower. Staff quickly decided to block public access to prevent further tragedies. Could the dying figure watching me from the high belfry be one of the poor souls who committed suicide? Shell irreparably shocked after experiencing the horrors of war?
I have since tried to discover if others with a history of Craiglockhart have seen anyone in the tower, but so far without success. I have read personal accounts of ghost stories from the building, but no one remembers the story of the man in the long coat. Who knows! Someone reading this chapter may have a story to tell. You may have even seen something similar to what I did so many years ago. Perhaps you too have followed in the footsteps of ghosts.
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Tales from the Crypts of Auld Reekie by John S. Tantalon, from Saber Press, is available from North Edinburgh Nightmares website And Amazon.
