5. An Elite Class of Ghosts at The Midland Hotel Bradford
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Show Notes for Episode 4
Overview of Our Visit to The Midland Hotel Bradford
In Episode 5 of the Scared Cat Skeptic podcast, we hunt out an elite class of ghosts at The Midland Hotel Bradford. And there’s a dash of Bram Stoker synchronicity again too.
Photos from the Midland Hotel Bradford Ghost Hunt
Full Gallery from The Midland Hotel Bradford
In this POdcast, we mentioned...
Emily Dewsnap, Scaredy Cat Skeptic Host
Emily Dewsnap is the host of the Scaredy Cat Skeptic podcast. She is a militant sceptic, despite growing up in a haunted house. This fascination with the occult has been a lifelong obsession... but that could just be the goth in her. Emily is also an artist by day, and drew Scaredy Cat mascot, Maud, up into the current form she takes today.
Ellen McMichael, Spooky Bitch and Fantastic Photographer
Thank you to Ellen McMichael for suggesting the Midland Hotel Bradford, and for spending so long showing me around. We had a fantastic time catching up over drinks and then frolicked in the Mirror Pool at City Park. The majority of the photographs were taken by Ellen and I really think she should take it up as a hobby, because she's absolutely fantastic at it!
Sammi McEwan - Concept Artist and Spiritual Advisor
Huge thanks to Sammi for listening to me ramble about the many spooky things that have been happening. She has been great as a sounding board, as well as recommending some protection rituals, which I've been using as meditations. At some point, Sammi will be guest hosting with me to talk about the risks of messing with the occult and how to hunt out ghosts safely.
Tom Bramall, Character Artist
Tom Bramall is the character artist behind the Scaredy Cat Skeptic mascot character, Maud. He is also the partner of our host, Scaredy Cat, and spends a lot of time patiently listening to her ramble on about ghosts, so he deserves a heartfelt thanks. He has not experienced the midnight scrabbler. It's very annoying.
Some Promised Bits & Pieces
- The Telepgraph & Argus article with the video of the cameraman’s coat being pulled by an unseen force at The Midland Hotel Bradford www.thetelegraphandargus.co.uk
- Some of our background music was donated by G.W. Munday via Mouldy Rotters, a musical about the undead soundcloud.com/mouldyrotters
EVa, The Terrible - Hunter Extraordinaire
Transcript - Episode 5: The Midland Hotel Bradford
Hello, Spooky bitches. Welcome to episode five of the Scaredy Cat Skeptic podcast. We’re coming up to Spooky season and I can already feel a lovely chill in the air. Bit of a relief after that sticky, clammy summer, let me tell you. We are not cut out to deal with that much sunshine in the UK. Nothing works in that heat. Bring me a nice grey sky and a temperature of around 17°C and I’m one happy bunny.
But hopefully this is the final nail in the coffin of summer 2023 and autumn will start in earnest, bringing crisp leaves and conkers and unregulated bonfires that are a bit dangerous. But no-one minds because it’s customary to burn the effigy of a historical political activist and bake potatoes in his figurative ashes. It’s a really odd tradition, isn’t it? But fun and autumnal. And there are toffee, apples and treacle toffee and hot chocolate. It marks the season when we can start putting cinnamon in stuff and making it hot. Bloody love a mulled wine, but not before, ladies and gentlemen, we have passed through that wonderful time when we can celebrate Samhain, or, as it’s more commonly known, “All Hallows Eve.” A night when those who have died are able to return to Earth to visit their loved ones. Which begs the question, what are they doing the rest of the time?
Anyway, Halloween aside, I’ve decided to add a little section at the beginning of the episode where I talk about the spooky things that have happened to me in the last few weeks. Because the reason this podcast came into being wasn’t simply because of an isolated incident with a giant worm 30 years ago. Weird shit happens to me all the time. Just constantly.
Most of the time I write these things off as weird, but probably has an explanation I don’t know about or I desperately grasp any explanation for them that doesn’t scare the shit out of me. But sometimes they just really get under my skin and it takes a while to stop worrying about it.
Things that Go Bump in the Night - 00:02:04:23
Sratchings at Midnight
Currently there’s a Midnight Scrabbler in our house. It started about three weeks ago. I was in bed with the door closed. Tom was still up and in the living room, so I was alone in the bedroom and I couldn’t sleep. Story of my life. So I got my Kindle out and was just about to start reading. When I heard two long, slow scratches at the door. I assumed it was our cat, Eva. So I sat up and sure enough, it happened again. I got out of bed and opened the door doing that embarrassing thing that cat owners do where they talk to their animals like they’re their children. But she wasn’t there.
I glanced around to see if there was anything around that could have slipped against the wall or door and maybe caused the noise. But there was nothing. Freaked, I went into the living room to see what Tom was up to. It was such a clear noise, and it felt so real that I assumed either Tom or Eva had been up to something. But Tom was curled up on his computer chair and Eva was nowhere in sight.
I told Tom what had happened and he said it was spooky. But then he said: “You were asleep, Em” and normally I would agree with him. I wouldn’t usually even bother to tell anyone about something weird that happened while I was in bed, because I get the sleep issues and what have you. But I know I was wide awake.
I Keep Making Sure I Can Actually Hear the Noise Before I Open the Door
I sat up and I waited to make sure it was really happening. I have my Kindle in my hand. Then I decided that maybe Eva had run off when I opened the door. I don’t know why she’d do that. And I opened the door so quickly after the second scratches that I don’t think she could feasibly have got away from me that quickly. But she was fast asleep in my studio, and I woke her to check, but her little furry face was all groggy and puzzled. So it definitely wasn’t Eva either.
Bamboozled. I went and got back in bed and picked up my Kindle. Seconds later, the scratching happened again. I ran to the door and opened it. Nothing there. So I left the door ajar and went back to reading. It didn’t happen again after that, and I’d almost forgotten the incident until about a week later. I was in a similar state, but I’d only just got into bed when the scratching started. I sat up. The scratching noise came again.
So I looked at the strip of light under the door and I couldn’t see a shadow from little paws or feet or anything like there was someone in the corridor. I waited. It happened again. I shut up and flung the door open. Nothing there. I’ve left the bedroom door ajar ever since. And it means I’m waking up a lot more, because I’m such a light sleeper. And Tom’s a chunterer. But there’s not been any scratching since.
The Scratching Continues
Then. Last week, Tom had gone to bed before me, which is unusual. And he basically turns into Michael Flatley, Lord of the Dance, in his sleep. I haven’t been sleeping well, obviously. And Tom’s been a bit poorly recently, so I left him to his jigging and went and got on the sofa in the living room.
Seconds after I closed my eyes, I heard fuzzy muffled footsteps like feet on carpet and a cracking noise that Tom sometimes makes when he first gets up. Not sure if it’s an ankle or hip, but it’s that definite knuckle type cracking noise. He also moves around very quietly. It’s like living with the Slenderman. He just… he’s very tall and thin and willowy, and he moves silently and appears behind you wearing a long, dark robe. This very tall, pale figure. Terrifying. He’s also cold to the touch like a vampire.
Anyway, it could have feasibly been him. And that’s what I assumed I was hearing. So I took off my children’s alien sleep mask. I know what you’re thinking. What a sexy bitch. Am I right? The lights were off in the living room, but the moon was really bright and I hadn’t shut the curtains so I could see clearly that there was nobody there. I sat up and there were no more noises. So I put my mask back on and I lay back down. It happened again. And this time when I took my mask off and sat up, the noises carried on. They weren’t loud, but they were clear: creaks, like floorboards moving the odd tap, some scratching and banging coming from the walls. A bang here and there. It was happening on either side of me, in the corridor to the studio and the bathroom, in the hallway, in the kitchen… The only place I couldn’t locate any sounds was the bedroom.
So I turned the big light on and I sat there listening to it for a while, quite scared by this point. Eventually, I just picked up my bits and pieces and my pillow and my sleep mask and I crawled back into bed with Tom. If in doubt, use your nearest and dearest as a human shield. I couldn’t hear anything from the comfort of the bedroom, and eventually I managed to drift off.
The Strip Light and the Buzzing
The morning after, I started telling the story of what happened and Tom he suggested it might be our upstairs neighbour. He is a noisy man and he is up at all hours and he has this dog that wags its tail really hard and it makes a thumping sound on the floor, which is obvious. They are stealing because we’re in a flat. But I’m used to his noises. And this noise was in the room with me and all around me. It was in our flats. Sometimes it felt like it was below us and we’re on the ground floor.
Then that same day after I got up, I went to the kitchen after dark and I turned on the strip light. But it buzzed loudly, went a bit blue at the edges and started flickering up and down the middle. Irritated, I turned it off and on, and then it blazed and went out, plunging me into darkness. I’m a bit of a prepper, so I went and got an emergency camping light. I mentioned to Tom that we needed a new strip light and we arranged to go and get one the day after. But then the day after Tom went into the kitchen and the light was fine. It’s been fine ever since. And it had popped like the bulb had gone. So I don’t understand how it made that noise and still works.
So, I mean, what is going on here?
Sceptical Things to Note
Sceptical things to note: Eva may look like a princess (I’ll post a picture to the show notes) but she is a stone cold killer. Honestly, I’m lowkey proud of how good at hunting she is. She’s seven years old, so around 40 in cat years. But she plays out all day every day, and she squares up to foxes and she gets into fights. She killed a pigeon once, but it was too big for us to get back inside with it. So she just sat outside with the corpse of a pigeon while the other birds went absolutely crazy about it. And when I found her, she was wincing at the sheer cacophony of squawks, as the friends and family of said pigeon kicked up a stink at this murder most horrid. She’s… She’s such a monster, honestly.
But we’re used to it. She brings us little snacks on legs fairly often. The flying kind are usually dead by the time she deposits them at our feet. But the ones with tails she likes to set down alive and then chase them around. Like a sadist. So it is possible that she’s brought something in without us knowing. Dropped it and it’s run off and she’s lost it. And now it’s bred. And there are mice in the walls.
I know that mice can be noisy and I know that mice are noisier than you think they’re going to be. Sometimes it sounds like a herd of elephants. So it could be that, I’m not ruling it out. We haven’t had any droppings and we haven’t seen any bite marks in anything as yet, but you never know.
Spooky Things to Note
On the other hand, spooky things to note. About a month ago, I ran from the living room to answer the door. As I passed the hallway to the bathroom, I saw a tall, dark figure in a long robe standing there. I kind of nodded at him (it was definitely a him, and it definitely wasn’t Tom) as if to say that I’d be back in a moment. But I ended up chatting at the door and when I got back inside, the figure had gone.
I never trust things that you see out of the corner of your eye. Because your mind can so easily play tricks on you. But I will say that our hallway is cream and white and very plain. So it’s unlikely that there was a shadow in there, or anything like that. And I can’t figure out what it was because it was slightly more than just something in the corner of my eye. It’s very odd.
Sammi asked me if I’d been doing my protection rituals, and I do them fairly often because they’re nice meditations. And I will get Sammy on and we’ll go through some of those meditations. But so far doing the podcast, I haven’t felt scared out of my wits, or anything like that.
More to the Story
The figure shape I’m going to chalk down as a trick of the light. I was trying to do too many things at once. I saw it. It felt like there was someone there waiting for me, but I didn’t feel scared or threatened, just a bit surprised.
But there is something else about that corridor. For months I’ve been able to smell something and it is not a good smell. It smells like dirty body. And I don’t mean like sweat or B.O. Just like, caked on really dirty smell. I can’t describe it properly. And I’ve searched and searched for the origin of the smell, but I can’t find anything. I’ve pulled out the shoe rack. I’ve lifted the rug. At one point, I had my face pressed into the carpet, trying to locate where the smell is coming from.
But I have no idea what it is. It’s not there all the time. It’s just the odd waft. I shower every day, sometimes twice. So it’s not coming from me. It’s the kind of smell you get in places where there are a lot of homeless people. Or on buses sometimes, when you get sort of poor, very poor people. It’s a definite body smell. I am going to hire a carpet steamer at some point and just go ham on the carpet all over. But I have a sneaking suspicion that whatever the smell is, it’s not in the carpet. It just seems to be in a pocket of air in the corridor. And it just so happens that that’s where I saw the dark figure. nd then it comes and goes. The smell is not there now. I can’t smell it at the minute anyway. Let me know your thoughts. Have we got ghosts or am I slowly descending into madness
And now I’ll stop banging on about me and get on with the show.
The History of the Midland Hotel Bradford - 00:11:49:20
So this month, we’re going back to Bradford with my good friend Ellen. To the Midland Hotel specifically. I’ll give you a bit of history and then talk about the ghosts as usual. Or one ghost in particular. A famous ghost. A thespian, if you will.
So the Midland Hotel is an absolutely stunning building that sits at the terminus of Bradford Forster Square train station. It’s a Grade II listed building and is famous for hosting celebrities. Which is strange to me because, well, Bradford. I’m joking. It’s not that bad. Mostly.
The hotel was originally built by the Midland Railway Company and was considered to be a showpiece for the businesses Northern offering. Construction of this architectural beauty began in 1885 and five years later in 1890, it opened its doors to the public, or rather the elite. When the Midland was built, the main entrance would take you straight from the station platform up through the waiting area and take offices and into the hotel itself. And that part of the hotel still remains and it’s fucking glorious.
And Then the Midland Hotel Bradford Became A Posh Place for Lunch
On its completion, the Bradford and County Conservative Club decided it was the perfect location to entertain Lord Salisbury for lunch, which is why it gained this reputation for being an elite place. Lord Salisbury was a marquess who at that moment in time had just been made prime minister for the third time.
The Midland Hotel gained a reputation after this fancy affair for being a very prestigious place to rest your head. So it’s no wonder that the likes of Laurel and Hardy chose to stay there. As well as celebrities, every prime minister since the hotel’s construction, right up to Harold Wilson, stayed at the hotel for varying lengths of time. Lord Salisbury, set a precedent.
It’s also played host to George Formby. He spent a night at the Midland in 1940 after a sell out performance at the Alhambra. And many more big names such as Sean Connery, J.B. Priestley, Tom Courtney, Michael Palin, Gene Simmons, and my man, Bram Stoker.
But it wasn’t to last. At the end of the steam age, the hotel began to lose its purpose. It was no longer the proud beauty it had been, and by 1960 was completely derelict. And it remained that way for over 20 years. It seems like sacrilege.
In 1992, it was bought by John Pennington, who restored it to its former glory and renamed it the Pennington Midland Hotel. It was subsequently bought by Peel Hotels in 1998 and its name was reverted back to The Midland. Can’t beat classic, can you?
So what is the Midland Hotel Bradford like today? - 00:14:24:22
In 2023, the Midland Hotel is a three star hotel. It has an old money field to it and the location is handy for transport links. But Bradford is a far cry from what it once was. It’s a rundown town not dissimilar to Dewsbury. There’s something very West Yorkshire kitchen-sink-esque about it. It’s hard to explain to anyone who’s never lived in Yorkshire. There’s a terrible drug problem in Bradford and rampant homelessness, but despite this, it’s a very multicultural place. But that has also given rise to a particularly scary kind of extreme right wing politics amongst some of the white folk in Bradford.
In some ways going to Bradford feels like you’re looking through a window into the past. It’s like the eighties. Have you seen This Is England?
Funnily enough, though, as I mentioned in the Bolling Hall episode, there has been a history of Asian settlers in Bradford since at least the 11th century. And the majority of black and brown people who live there today are here because we invited people from other countries to the UK to work for us in the 60s and 70s. Let’s just say that the Daily Mail is a prominent newspaper in Bradford and leave it at that
Forster Square train station, where the Midland stands, has also changed over the years. It’s been around since it was first built in 1946, but it has had several iterations over the years and it has actually been moved 300 metres from its original location. Looking back at old photographs, I can see that the station in its current form is a far cry from the original. Which was a large, imposing Victorian building, very grand with several platforms that bustled with people.
Whereas as it is now, it’s just kind of a concrete block. These days. It’s a very quiet little station with two lines in and out, which I suspect is down to the construction of the second and much larger Bradford railway station, which is Bradford Interchange. It’s a modern day hub of public transportation and Bradford Interchange was constructed in 1973, but it had been in the pipeline since 1962, which just so happens to coincide with the demise of the Midland Hotel Bradford.
By this time, the landscape of public transport had changed drastically since the Midlands heyday and there was a rush to keep up with the demands of faster, more affordable travel and the latest technology.
The Midland Hotel Bradford is a Beauty - 00:16:46:07
The Midland Hotel is a large hotel with 90 bedrooms. Until earlier this year, it was owned by Peel Hotels still. But it was recently bought by Britannia Hotels. It looked like the new owners were keen to keep the historical aspects of the hotel as they are when we visited. But you never know what they’re planning to do with it, and let’s just hope they don’t mess around with it too much.
The front of the Midland Hotel Bradford faces a busy main road and there are building works at the minute, which made it look a little bit unimpressive from the outside. Despite the fact that it is a beautiful building, the architecture is stunning, but the moment we were inside the main entrance, we were faced with huge mirrored doors that were ornately decorated with wrought iron flourishes.
Stepping inside felt like entering another world altogether. As the door closed behind us, we found ourselves in a large hallway with two froofy-looking sofas (almost chaise-longue type sofas) flanking the entrance. And on both walls were marble art installations, which I assume were made up of parts of the old hotel that were just too beautiful to dispose of. So some flourishes, cornices, that sort of thing. The entryway was lined with large cream tiles and the floor was shiny. So, you know, it’s posh. I like a shiny floor. It reminds me of being on holiday.
Inside The Midland Hotel Bradford
Once through the entryway, we found ourselves in a large reception area. Smallish round tables were scattered around and people were chatting in friendly, hushed tones over bars, snacks and drinks to the left. We could see the check in desk for the hotel rooms, and to the right was a small bar. So we made a note to come back and carried on with our investigations.
One of the first things you notice as you enter the hotel proper is the sweeping staircase on the left that takes you up to the rooms and suites. Wrought iron and dark wood. Bannisters sneak up towards a mezzanine floor. Twinkling fairy lights leading the way. It’s so pretty. It’s no surprise that this is a popular wedding venue. But those stairs actually hold a dark history. Our ghost, a former actor, met his demise on this very staircase.
So obviously we went up it. It was a quiet day at the hotel. There had been a wedding before we arrived and we just missed the rush. So we were undisturbed as we poked into conference rooms and investigated nooks and crannies. It felt incredibly peaceful in the hotel. Even the bar area was quiet. It had the hushed reverence of a library. The grandness of it all added to the ambiance. And there was a feeling like an old school men’s club and not the working kind. It was easy to picture gents in coattails, spotting drooping moustaches and puffing on pipes behind oversize tabloid newspapers. Sipping brandy, and merely nodding to each other to signal a formal greeting. Very old school.
I did feel a tad underdressed. I usually wear shorts, tights, Converse or Dockers,
something black and floaty. Ellen looked cracking in a black maxi dress and she sort of fitted in. But something about my shorts just made me feel like I was being a bit disrespectful somehow. Not that the staff would seem to mind at all. They were nothing but delightful.
We Spoke to The Staff at The Midland Hotel Bradford
Once we’d exhausted our avenues on every floor, we came back downstairs and Ellen took me into a little corridor. Had I visited with someone who didn’t know the hotel, or had I come on my own, I’d have missed it entirely. And all I can say is: wow! It was the old station entrance to the hotel. And then I really felt like I’d stepped back in time.
Beautiful and ornate sea-green tiles lined the walls halfway up and then continued in a pale coral. It was hard to be sure, but they look hand-painted. A floor made of thin, dark wooden slats sloped off in front of us and curved away to the right. On the left hand side there was a Victorian luggage rack, which supporters would have used to transport guests’ suitcases up to their rooms. I could imagine imposing ladies in large fancy hats, barking orders to porters and refusing to carry anything in case they made their white gloves dirty. And several young men lugging around hat boxes and wheels, brown leather suitcases over to the rack to be taken up to the rooms.
On the right hand side of this area is where the old ticket office once was. Sadly, you can’t go through that door. I tried. So it’s probably a storage room or something equally as functional, now. There’s a sign above the door that says: “You may telephone from here.”
Going through a second set of doors, you see fancy benches on a raised footpath at the edge of the walkway. And here was a trailer for luggage with suitcases on. And what did I see? Flipping Bram Stoker’s suitcase. Wherever I go in life there is Dracula. And, more prominently, Bram Stoker. He’s everywhere. It’s a good job I’m a fan, isn’t it?
Round in the corner, you’ve got a sweep down to the exit. Victorian lamps light the way from the walls.”Not gas lamps anymore, but they are Newton bulbs. So they give off what feels like an authentic glow of light. It was such an unexpected and perfectly preserved pocket of history that I nearly burst into tears. But I didn’t. Because I’m a grown up.
The Ghosts of The Midland Hotel Bradford - 00:21:33:04
So I’ll just tell you a little bit about the ghosts at the Midland Hotel, or one ghost in particular.
After we’d finished exploring, we headed to reception to check in with the ladies working there. One of them said she hadn’t ever had a spooky experience in the hotel, but the other one looked at her aghast and said: “Haven’t you? I have!”
The Receptionist’s Ghost Story
SCAREDY CAT (SC): This is a bit of a random question, but I do a podcast about ghosts.
RECEPTIONIST 1: Ghosts?
SC: Yeah, so I just wanted to know, have you ever seen anything in the hotel? Do you have any spooky tales?
RECEPTIONIST 1: I’ve never seen anything spooky.
RECEPTIONIST 2: Haven’t you? I have.
SC: Have you?
RECEPTIONIST 1: What was that?
RECEPTIONIST 2: Ok, So I was stood right here, the customer was right there. And someone said: “Shirley” and there was absolutely no-one in the back office or nobody. It’s also happened to Beth. Beth was walking towards me. I heard someone call Beth’s name, she did as well. We both looked and nobody was there. That’s the only thing I’ve got.
SC: Spooky, though!
So a very short tale, but it gives you an idea of what a lot of staff members and guests experience on a daily basis. We did ask the bartender and he was absolutely fantastic and came over to where we were sitting having a beer to tell us about the strange goings on at the hotel. Doors opening and closing by themselves. Glasses falling to the ground and smashing when there’s nobody around. Strange echoes and voices. This place has it all.
But one thing seems to be for certain is that there’s only one ghost at the Midland that we can name. And here we are back at Bram Stoker slightly again. It’s not his ghost, but he was there. Every time – there is Bram Stoker.
Sir Henry Irving is Forever Linked to The Midland Hotel Bradford
But… Sir Henry Irving was a well-respected actor. Born in 1838 as John Henry Brodribb in a small Somerset village, Henry Irving was definitely not raised with a silver spoon in his mouth. His father was a salesman for a local tailor, and his mother was living in a time when women weren’t allowed to work or own property. So there’s hardly any mention of her anywhere.
Sir Henry Irving was obsessed with the theatre from an early age after leaving school, which I’m assuming was around age 12. In those days, he became a clerk in a merchant’s office, but he never let go of his dream of the theater. He would daydream about the plays and the plays at the London Theater, and in 1856, he was given a small legacy of £100 from an uncle. It seems strange to say that buying props for amateur dramatics was an investment, but it would turn out to be the best venture he could have made. As well as swords, wigs and costumes, Henry also paid his way into a production of Romeo and Juliet at the Royal Soho Theater. This was the point at which he changed his name officially to Henry Irving because it was customary to adopt a stage name.
SIr Henry Irving Shoots to Fame
He went down an absolute storm in the production and encouraged by the warm reception, he joined a theatrical stock company in Sunderland. This is where Bram Stoker comes into the picture. Genteel Bram first spotted the enigmatic Henry Irving in his role as Captain Absolute in the Rivals, which was being performed at the Theater Royal in Dublin. Bram was just 19 years old at this point, but he was absolutely obsessed from the minute he clapped eyes on Henry. But the two wouldn’t meet for another nine years when Henry would return to Dublin with his much lauded adaptation of Hamlet in 1871.
Henry was cast in the Bells at the Lyceum Theater. He had been an established actor before this point, but this was the performance that shot him to fame. He became basically a household name or as much as you could in the Victorian era. In 1878, he became the manager of the Lyceum and developed his own theatrical company with great success. He toured all over, breaking into America and taking the world by storm. And after several interactions, Bram Stoker became Henry’s manager and devoted friend.
But it wasn’t to last. In 1897, he suffered several financial disasters and things started to go rapidly downhill. His friendship with Bram Stoker was also cooling off. Around the same time Bram had married, and that seemed to hammer some nails into the coffin of their relationship. There has been much speculation, but Bram Stoker was also a close friend of Oscar Wilde. You could say that the poor man was gay or bisexual. But back then, nobody was allowed to be who they actually were, so it’s really hard to make any claims for real. I have my suspicions. But then, as a proud bisexual/pansexual/omnisexual… no idea what I am… I think everybody has the capacity for all kinds of love.
A Figure as Tragic as Radclyffe Hall
It does seem likely that there was a much closer relationship going on than just a friendship, although whether that love was unrequited or not, we’ll never know. Take this quotation from Bram’s friend, Hall Caine, on his death in 1912:
“Much has been said of his relation to Henry Irving, but I wonder how many were really aware of the whole depth and significance of that association. Stoker seemed to give up his life to it. It was not only his time and his services that he gave to Irving. It was his heart, which never failed for one moment in loyalty, in enthusiasm, in affection. In the strongest love that man may feel for a man. And I say without any hesitation, I have never seen such absorption of one man’s life in the life of another.”
Bit telling, don’t you think? How sad. There has also been speculation that Bram based his most famous character, Dracula, on the famous actor. Given the macabre feel of Henry’s plays, it’s not a huge stretch of the imagination to accept that that claim is true. Henry Irving was a tall, dark, slender man, very gothic looking. Had there been a stage adaptation of the novel in his time, he would have made the perfect Dracula, the romantic antihero searching decades for a reincarnation of the love of his life. Sadly, Henry was planning to retire to Cornwall after his farewell performance in 1905. He had performed Tennyson’s Beckett at the Theater Royal and Opera House in Bradford. His accommodation for the evening had been booked at the Midland Hotel. He was a famous actor after all, so only the best would do.
Bram Stoker had made the trip to Bradford to see his lifelong friend and eternal love in his last performance. Talking to reporters after the death of his bestie, Bram said: “We chatted for awhile after the play and I left him. Although not notably strong nor in any way cast down and not more exhausted than had been usual for some time. A little more than three quarters of an hour afterward, I was sent for by the man who attended Sir Henry from the theater, who told me that he had fainted or collapsed on entering the Midland Hotel. Hurrying down, I found Sir Henry lying in the passage, dead.”
Bram also said: “Had he died on the stage, as might have happened, it would have given shock and bitter memory to many tender hearts.”
After his final performance, Henry had spoken some words to his manager. Bram: “Take care of yourself, old chap. Good night. God bless you.! And then mounting the stairs, he swiftly collapsed and died. He had had a stroke.
Ghost Hunting at the Midland Hotel Bradford
Since then, guests and staff alike have experienced many bizarre things. So I’m just going to tell you about an actual paranormal investigator called Kenny Charles and his ghost hunting team. So Kenny Charles was intrigued by the mystery surrounding the old hotel, and he contacted them to find out if they had any stories to share with him. They very quickly got back to him and said that, yes, the hotel was haunted and when did he want to go and investigate?
When he arrived, he was told by the manager that she absolutely refused to go down the hall to the ballroom. So she handed him the keys and left him to his ghost hunting. Using something called a mel meter, which is a device that needs to be touched to be activated, Kenny announced to the ballroom that he was going to count down from five. When he reached one, the mel meter was activated.
Kenny had taken a medium and a cameraman with him to the hotel. The medium suggested that the ghost may be Sir Henry Irving, and since the ghost was active and willing to communicate, they should set up a trip wire on the stage and then pretend to be an audience. So they set up the device and began clapping and cheering. Again, they were not disappointed. The trip wire was activated.
(I’m really sorry. If you can hear Eva purring, I can’t get her to go away.)
Kenny also took some photographs and saw a figure in some of the shots. He had been told that the ghost in the ballroom was female. But looking at the photographs, he concluded that it was indeed dark and mysterious Sir Henry who had activated his trip wire. The cameraman also reported having his coat pulled and the moment was even captured on camera. There’s a video on the Telegraph & Argus website, which is the Bradford paper. You can see this moment as it happens. I can’t embed the video because it’s not on YouTube, but I’ll link the article in the show notes.
Did We See the Ghosts at the Midland Hotel Bradford?
So did we see ghosts at the Midland Hotel Bradford? No. We didn’t even feel vaguely creeped out anywhere in the hotel. Although, I wasn’t my best, honestly. So I probably wasn’t quite as in touch with with my intuition as normal. There was a very soft, cosy vibe to everything. We did a thorough explore. We went all the way up to the top of the building. We roamed softly lit corridors. We peeked into conference rooms.
There’s a suite called the Irving Suite, named after the thespian whose ghost is forever trapped in this ornate hotel. There’s also a plaque on the outside of the main entrance to the hotel that reads Sir Henry Irving, famous actor and impresario, died here in the Midland Hotel 13th of October 1905.
If his spirit really is there, I don’t think he minds so much. It’s very grand as mausoleums go. And from what I’ve read, Sir Henry was something of a narcissist given to delusions of grandeur. So he’s probably very well suited there. Not that he’s there in body. Sir Henry was transported to London after death, where he was cremated at Golders Green Crematorium, and his ashes were interred at Poet’s Corner in Westminster Abbey. Not a bad innings, all in all. Still, he seems to have lingered where he performed his last play. If the rumours are to be believed anyway.
Fellow actor Alan Terry once asked Henry how he would like to die, and without hesitation he said like that [finger snap]. So he died as he wished to, having performed his last in beautiful surroundings. And while I don’t believe that the consciousness of the dead hang around after death, perhaps Sir Henry has left a theatrical imprint of himself where he drew his last breath. Who knows? All I can say for certain is that the hotel regularly receives reports of strange goings on from staff members and guests alike.
Scaredy Cat’s Ratings for the Midland Hotel Bradford
So back to ratings. I’ll give you the ratings for the Midland. But I didn’t actually stay there for the night, so I can’t speak for how the rooms are to stay in or what the breakfast is like or anything like that.”It just… it seemed like an expense when I could just hop on a train home and be back with my tiny family.
Potential ghosts seen by Scaredy Cat
Again. We had a lovely, spooky time talking with the staff, but we saw nothing untoward ourselves. Scare factor one out of ten. It’s just a really lovely hotel. Perhaps if I was there by myself at nighttime, I wouldn’t feel so confident. But while we were there, we felt nothing but comfortable and at ease.
Total
0
Scare Factor
It was sumptuous and lovely, but it wasn’t spooky at all.
Rating
Value for Money
The rooms range from £50 to £120 a night, which is pretty good considering how central the hotel is and how lovely it is inside. Drinks were fairly reasonably priced at just over a fiver for a pint, which is pretty standard.
Rating
Family Friendliness
Probably great as somewhere relatively cheap but clean to stay with kids. There’s not much for them to do there. But you have all of Bradford on your doorstep. The Media Museum and IMAX are just a short walk away and the City Park Mirror Pool is also nearby. It’s a shallow paddling pool surrounded by fun jets of water that you can run through and colourful lights and things like that. It’s… it’s absolutely stunning at night. And it’s great for a warm day. And apparently we have those now.
Rating
Accessibility
There are fully accessible disabled rooms and toilets. There’s also disabled parking spaces.
Rating
Time Spent
Two hours for exploration and drinks.
Total
2
Beauty Spot
So, this was difficult because inside the Midland is stunning, but outside it’s Bradford and parts of Bradford are great and it definitely is on the up and up again. But the location does detract from the beauty of the hotel somewhat. But then once you’re in there, you don’t feel like you’re in Bradford. So, you know, swings and roundabouts, I guess.
Rating
Customer Service
The staff at the Midland Hotel Bradford were lovely and willing to talk to us, which is always welcome.
Rating
Listener Stories
And now I’ve got something that sounds like a horror film to read to you. Honestly, this scared me. Okay, so this one is called When a Skeptic uses a Ouija Board, The results are unexpected.
When a Skeptic uses a Ouija Board, The results are unexpected
And now I’ve got something that sounds like a horror film to read to you. Honestly, this scared me. Okay, so this one is called When a Skeptic uses a Ouija Board, The results are unexpected.
I’ve just got the one story this week, because it’s a long one, and it ties in quite nicely with my recent spooky happenings minus the Ouija board. I haven’t done that yet. So strap in. This is from Lucy, who lives near Tintwistle. So that’s near my neck of the woods. I’m from Glossop, and Tintwistle is one of the small districts near Hadfield.
So Lucy says… I have a scary Ouija board story for you. And you are not kidding. Lucy. I was at a house party at a friend’s house back when I was a student in Manchester. It was about three in the morning and most people had left by this point. There was a small group of us sitting on the stairs just chatting and drinking. It was one of those old brick houses and the paint was coming off the walls and it was a bit of a mess. It’s student housing, you know what it’s like. And it was absolutely freezing cold. Middle of winter and all the windows open to get rid of cigarette smoke and the weed smell lol.
So my friend turns to me and goes: “This place is haunted. Don’t you know?”
I’m going to call her Karen because she refused to talk about what happened afterwards. She just stopped laughing with us and suddenly got really serious out of nowhere. I laughed and rolled my eyes at her because I thought she had to be kidding. But she didn’t laugh back.
“No, really. There’s this really weird stain in my bedroom and I can’t get it off,” she said.
I laughed again. “Well, the place is a bit of a mess, so it’s not that strange.”
And then Karen got this really weird look on her face and said that it was greasy and she couldn’t figure out where it was coming from.
The Women Venture Upstairs
So having had a drink, I was feeling a bit bold. We went upstairs so she could show me. It was weird, yeah. But people had obviously been partying in there, because there were beer cans everywhere. It was really hard to see too, because the light was really dim, but it was this creepy looking black stain on the carpet that led from a second door, that had been painted shut, all the way to the bed.
I asked Karen what was on the other side of the other door, but she said she didn’t know. She hadn’t been able to get it open. But then she said that sometimes at night it sounded like someone was knocking from the other side.
Karen was on the top floor and she had that floor to herself. It was just a bedroom up there in a converted attic. So I went over and tried to open it, but it was completely stuck. I even knocked, but nothing got back. Obviously. I figured there must be something on the other side that was causing damp to seep through and possibly rats or mice or something. It’s Manchester after all. Everywhere is damp.
But she was right. It wasn’t just damp. It was greasy like an oil stain and the floor was spongy underneath, which was the most worrying thing. I told her she had to get the landlord to come in and clean it up and also open that door because it was a health hazard. The knocking was probably just nightmares or too much weed or something. When we went back downstairs, the others had gone into the living room and were in the process of getting a board game out. It wasn’t until Karen started going: “Put it away!” that I realised it was a Ouija board.
Ouija Boards and a Strange Turn of Events
I wasn’t really superstitious back then, but I wasn’t keen on the idea either. There were a lot of stories about Ouija boards going bad, you know. Why risk it? Karen was getting louder and louder and saying that the Ouija board was the reason this was all happening in the first place. Nobody else listened, and they got out some candles and started playing. I gave Karen a beer and told her they were just being idiots and she calmed down a bit. It was a bit shitty of them to do that to her. They seemed to think it was funny. The others messed around with the board and a glass for ages and ages, but nothing was happening.
Eventually, Karen said she was going to have a go because they weren’t doing it right. It was totally the opposite of what she’d just been saying. Just a complete about turn. As soon as she sat down, the glass started moving. It was so fast it spelt out: WHORE KILL HELL FUCK YOU BITCH. Just a load of awful stuff. It was whizzing around and around the board, getting faster and faster and the words were starting to get misspelt.
Eventually Karen took her hand away from the glass and it fell over and spun around several times before stopping. She looked at me, shocked. I went over and picked the glass up and as I did, there was this almighty banging from upstairs. And Karen looked at me with this look of pure fear in her eyes and went: “That’s what’s been happening since we moved in.”
A couple of the boys said they’d go and check it out and we followed them to the bottom of the stairs. As they reached the landing, all the lights in the house glowed and really brightly and then went out including the candles in the living room. We went and relit them and held one each as we all went up the stairs together. We were all scared as hell by this point. The light from the candles was shaking and I could hear people breathing heavy. We’d all been quite drunk earlier, but this just sobered us all right up.
Karen’s Room is the Source of the Activity
As we reached Karen’s bedroom door on the top floor, we realised that there was a dim light still on in there. But it was the only light in the house. One of the guys said it must have its own power source or was on a different breaker or something. But when we went in we realised it was coming through the cracks in the locked door. One of the guys said, I don’t like this. And just as he said it, there was a cracking sound and he stumbled and dropped his candle. His foot had gone through the floor where the stain was. The carpet was dipping badly, and we pulled him away and backed onto the landing where the candle has set fire to the stain on the carpet. I wasn’t really thinking. I ran back in and took my shirt off to smother the flames, and just then the lights in the house came back on and there was a sharp banging from behind the locked door.
I just bolted. I could feel the soft floor sinking more onto my feet as I scrambled back to safety and we all ran downstairs. We all stayed in the living room with the lights on until morning. When the girl from beneath Karen’s went in to check the damage, she found a hole in her ceiling and there was old plaster everywhere and some broken planks that were sodden and had rotted away.
A lot of her things were covered in this black, oily stuff, and it made it harder to get the paint flakes and plaster off. She straight away packed a bag and went home to her parents. Karen moved into my room in my house share around the corner. It was very cramped too. My boyfriend was annoyed by it, but I wasn’t going to send her back to that house.
Nobody Wants to Go Back to the Haunted House
I think every single person moved out of that house within a week. The only thing Karen would say about the whole experience was that it had started the first time someone got the Ouija board out and that something bad came through. One of the boys turned up at our house one day. He’d nip back to pack up the rest of his stuff and he went to take a meter reading so they wouldn’t get charged after moving out. The meters were in the cellar he was trying to see and shone a torch at the wall and realised that someone had written KILL on the wall in red paint.
The top floor of the house was condemned. Eventually, the landlord hadn’t done any due diligence on the place. But then this was the 90s and health and safety regs weren’t as rigid as they are now. I think it’s still there, the house. But I’m never going anywhere near that place again. I actively avoid it now. We all kind of drifted when we left uni, but sometimes I see one of them pop up on Facebook as a recommended friend and it brings it all back again. Sadly, Karen got into trouble, dropped out of uni and got into hard drugs. I haven’t heard from her or seen her in 25 years. She’s not even on Facebook. Sad really.
It all really stopped me from having a good time at uni. Just that one incident. This happened in second year, so For the rest of that year and the year after. All I wanted to do was finish my degree and leave. Some strange things did happen in our house after that too, but nothing as dramatic. I’d put something down and it would move. Quite often the shower would turn itself on for a few minutes and go off again. I’d see things out of the corner of my eye like dark figures. You know, when you just know something’s off?
Karen Could Be the Culprit
It all stopped when Karen disappeared, so whatever it was was attached to her. I’ve got into smudging more recently, so if ever there was anything attached to me, I saged it right out of here lol. Hope you like my story. I’m going to be so happy if you read it out on the podcast. Love. I’ve been reading on the website. Well, I didn’t think anyone was reading my blogs, although I think you’re in for a bit of a shock, Scaredy Cat, when you do find strange things happening to you. Be careful with the hunts – you don’t know what you’re opening yourself up to. And stay away from Ouija boards.
Thank you for that, Lisa. I can completely understand why that would mess with the rest of your time at university. I feel like Karen may have been the perpetrator of some of these things. But, you know, open minded and all that.
Thank Yous, Credits and Other Animals
So I’ve just got some thanks and housekeeping. Firstly, this is the corrections fairy. In last month’s episode, I missed out a key factor in the Strange Call from Kent that went through to Stephen’s phone that he told me about on the podcast. As well as receiving the two calls and the garbled voicemail. Stephen also said that the voicemail mysteriously deleted itself so he wasn’t able to listen back to see if he could hear anything more clearly. Spooky stuff.
And I’ve got an addition to a story from last month as well. If you cast your mind back, you may remember Gina’s story of her grandmother’s funeral and the gust of air blowing through the door, carrying on it the scent of her late grandmother. Well, I was able to find the recipe for the bright green cocktail, or rather I was given it. The Sorn Puddock. And the reason I haven’t been able to do so thus far is because it’s had several different names over the years. I was finally made aware that a Sorn Puddock is very similar to a drink known as Kermit Juice. And the recipe for coma juice is as follows:-
- 50 mls of passion fruit liqueur
- 50 mls of blue curaçao
- 50 miles of Galliano
- Top it up with orange juice
I mean, that sounds very sweet. I’d probably leave out the orange juice, honestly. And there you have it. An ectoplasmic cocktail that would make Slimer proud.
Show Notes for the Midland Hotel Bradford
As always, the show notes for this episode are on the Scaredy Cat Skeptic website – ScaredyCatSkeptic.co.uk, and you’ll find all the links to the podcast players on there. You’ll also see the full list of episodes and show notes.
Initially, the podcast was using SoundCloud as a feed for the website, but I ran out of space and so I’ve moved over to YouTube, which I actually prefer. You may have noticed that the last episode had a video slideshow of all the photos we took from Ripon Workhouse. And if you haven’t, go and check it out. I’ve done one for this episode too. The photographs are also at the top of the show notes page, but that’s not all of them. There are some additional ones in the slideshow and they’re on there, along with the names of everyone mentioned on the pod.
There’s also a full transcript because I know some of you have said that you occasionally don’t understand my accent. One thing I will say is that the transcripts are really big and I do try to edit them so they make sense. But occasionally the transcript tool can’t understand me either, and I’ll miss it during the editing. You can always contact us for clarification if you wish. Huge thanks to everyone who has downloaded, rated and or reviewed the podcast. We made it to 195 and the Apple charts a couple of weeks back, which makes me very happy.
Please Rate And Review
If you haven’t rated us yet, please do give us a five star review on Apple, Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts. We are absolutely blown away by the responses to the podcasts that we’ve had so far, and we’d love to keep bringing you bigger and better episodes. And that’s all down to you – our listeners. Do you have any ghost stories that you want to share with us? Visit the website for more information.
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Please do your usual liking and subscribing and all that lovely stuff. It helps us to keep going.
Thank you to Ellen Michael, who suggested the Midland Hotel Bradford as a haunted location and who also accompanied me on the hunt.
Special mention – Tom Bramhall, as usual, for the concept art for our scaredy cat mascot, Maud.
We were gifted some of the fabulously spooky music you heard by composer G. W. Munday, who approached me via Mouldy Rotters, which is a musical about the undead. You can see more of that kind of thing over on YouTube at Mouldy Rotters, and they’re also on Instagram.
Our theme music is by Diamond Tunes.
See you next time. Happy Hauntings!
[PURR MEOW]
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Your Thoughts
Have you ever visited The Midland Hotel Bradford? Did you see anything spooky?
