|
Does the Black Swan have an Extra Guest? We all know this excellent pub/b&b on Belper marketplace. In fact, here at Fortean Belper we have often taken a stroll over there for an early dinner. We had no idea, while we scoffed our chips, that this story was just waiting to be told… Mrs A writes: It must have been 1965/66 and I would have been ten or eleven. I lived with both my parents and my younger sister. My Mother was 40, and my Father was 46, when I was born. I now know they were both typical products of Victorian parenting; they said what they meant and meant what they said, boundaries were strict and my sister and I were encouraged to be self-sufficient, quiet and obedient. I include the above by way of establishing that as children we were thoughtful and unassuming and in no way fanciful, and, knowing our 'place' as children, did not have the inclination to stray from it. What I am about to describe, is clear in my memory and on each recall the memory is uniformly vivid. In the interim years it is something I have often thought about. We lived in Belper in a large and chilly property in the Market Place, adjacent to the Black Swan public house. The house, or flat as it was referred to, was built over three floors. I recall being told that in previous times it had been a flour mill, and in Victorian times a shop. The Ground floor was completely self-contained and separate to where we lived and was taken up by what everyone referred to as a junk shop, but which was really more of an ‘Old Curiosity Shop’. It sold all sorts of things, ranging from grandfather and grandmother clocks to old gold and silver jewellery, old glass and china, books, tables and cabinets, upholstered furniture, and dusty boxes of mysteries the likes of which held no end of interest for us children. We lived on the first and second floor. On the first floor was a huge living room, a slightly smaller kitchen, an ample sized sitting room, and a bathroom and lavatory, all connected by a landing. The stairs up from the landing to the second floor led onto a further landing with three large bedrooms leading off, in effect the top storey, and where my story begins. It was early autumn, and chilly, I know this, as extra bedding had been brought out to put on the beds. The pink candlewick bedspread had been replaced by a thicker coverlet, which, if you weren't careful, rubbed your chin. Our bedroom held two single beds, a large old oak wardrobe and dressing table, a couple of wicker-bottomed spindle back occasional chairs, and, in front of the southerly facing window, placed to look out, was my favourite seat, a nursing chair, low backed, low to the floor and without arm rests. It was my reading chair. My bed was about four feet from this chair. I have no way of knowing what time it was, other than that I remember it was light enough to see, but yet not fully. There was certainly light from the moon, and the shadows cast were milky rather than dark edged, but it was clear enough to see. I don't know what disturbed my sleep, maybe nothing did, but it wasn't usual for me to wake in the night; I was a sound sleeper. What I saw as I awoke, has stayed with me for over fifty years. From the position of lying on my right hand side, I saw a man sitting in the chair in front of the window. He wasn't looking towards me, his head was slightly turned to his left and he was looking through the window and down towards the road. His face, initially in semi profile, his position, and his clothing were clear to see, and I was able to look at him unobserved. His face appeared thoughtful, perhaps weary, his eye steady as if he was watching or waiting for somebody or something. He was clean shaven with large angular features, his nose was particularly prominent, his hair was thick and wavy reached down below his shoulders, and appeared dark, maybe brown, or even black. He wore a dark high crowned hat with a brim that looked soft and tilted up ever so slightly. He appeared to be well built and tall, as he sat with his back resting against the back of the chair, he filled it to capacity. He wore dark leather knee high boots, the kind that fold back down over the top of themselves and these were a slouch fit on him, well worn, creased and dusty, and moulded to the shape of his foot. His legs appeared solid and muscled, befitting a person of substance, and, consistent with my impression of him being tall, his knees were bent upwards and backwards to accommodate his large frame in a low chair. His clothing appeared dark, with the exception of cuffs and a neck band in the style of a cravat, which were both light coloured. The neck band was visible in a v shape, until it became covered by his dark clothing. The strangest thing of all was that his long arms were resting in a manner which suggested the chair had arms, which it had not, and his huge clean hands with well-manicured nails appeared to be resting splay fingered over the edge of each arm of the chair. I have often wondered how long I watched the man without him being aware, perhaps two minutes, maybe longer, yet again I have no way of knowing. All I can say is that to take in what I did, it is likely to have been a few minutes. As I continued to lie very still, the man slowly turned his head in my direction and looked steadily at me, and I at him. Maybe he felt he was being watched, because he held my gaze, and that is the last I saw. I didn't see him disappear, he just wasn't there anymore. At no point throughout this experience did I feel uneasy, or that I should move or speak, moreover the child that I was didn't find it to be a strange experience; curious probably best describes how I felt, and how I have felt since then. The overall impression I formed after the event was that he was tired, and although he appeared well dressed I felt he might have been road dusty. The transaction, if it can be called that seemed to last minutes and I believe it might have lasted longer, if my observation had gone unnoticed. Some years later, in the late 1970's / early 1980's and after my parents had moved, the rooms where we had lived underwent a massive conversion, and were converted into a wine bar, the first in Belper in fact. The first floor became the wine bar proper, and it became a popular venue. From time to time live bands were hired to play evening gigs which drew in even more people. My parents still lived in Belper, and most weeks received a free newspaper called the ‘Derby Trader’. On a visit to my parents, I happened to be scanning through the paper, when a headline caught my eye, which read something along the lines of, "Ghostly goings on at the Black Swan Wine Bar". As far as I can remember, the article stated that a band hired to play at the wine bar for a Halloween gig had been in the room/s above the wine bar getting ready to appear, when they saw the figure of a man. The description given of the man matched the man I had seen. Apparently, they were so scared that they hastily gathered together their things, and made a quick exit, declining to fulfil their booking, and refusing to return. Not long after I met my husband, we were discussing the unusual and unexplained. At that point I hadn't spoken to him of my experience of years ago. He went on to describe something he'd been told by a friend, which had happened in the mid 1960's, in the same locality and is of interest in connection with the two sightings described above. Mr A Writes: During the 1960s whilst I was employed at Park Foundry in Belper, I was told of an unusual happening that was experienced by a fellow worker. The person in question, Jim Brown, was a very skilled craftsman working in the tool room. Jim emigrated to America in the late 60s to work in the car industry. After work, he had a spare time job working for a local engineering firm which had a small workshop on High Pavement. The building, now demolished, was situated just below the Nag’s Head public house. He recalled that early one evening he was working on a lathe and facing away from the double doors, which were open to the street. He could hear the traffic going up and down the hill. He suddenly had a feeling that someone was watching him and, on turning around, saw a figure standing in the open doorway. He described the figure of a gentleman reminiscent of a Royalist of the Civil War period. He had long wavy hair and was wearing a long frock coat. His arm was raised as if holding a long staff or leaning with his hand resting on a door jamb. The man smiled briefly, then disappeared into thin air. Although this experience was not threatening, it did un-nerve Jim somewhat, so he packed up his work and went home. Jim always did stress that it could have been his imagination, but was most likely not. Taking a closer look:
The figure The witnesses to all three sightings had at some time used the term ‘cavalier’ about the figure. What does a cavalier look like? 
This is one image (courtesy of the V and A) many people may recognise as looking like a ‘cavalier’, although it is slightly earlier than the civil war dates. The Royalists, to give them their proper name, did not all wear the same uniform; they dressed in the court fashions of the time. Hair was long and wavy, colours were bright and there was plenty of lace.
|
Mrs A’s description is very detailed. The figure’s boots, hat and hair could belong in the 17th century, although the dark colours would suggest a parliament supporter rather than a royalist. Not all parliamentarians chose to keep their hair short. We found more images of 17th century dress which match Mrs A’s description a little closer:
|
|
|
Then we found images like this next one for the early 19th Century. The boots and hat are still big, but, significantly, hair was shorter by then. That does not give us any solid facts to go on, but it does support the notion that the figure looked as if it was from a very long time ago, when most men grew their hair long.
Belper remained a small rural settlement until the mid 1700s, after which it started to grow quickly. By the time Belper had become a bustling industrial town, men’s clothing looked plainer, and, to our eyes, more modern.
Portrait of Paul Wayland Bartlett by Pearce, 1890.
Portrait of Paul Wayland Bartlett by Pearce, 1890.
This implies that the figure was probably wearing clothing dated from the time before the room he was seen in existed.
We cannot reliably date Mrs A’s figure, but we can say that he was dressed in a style dating from a time before Belper was a significant town. We cannot, of course, be sure the other witnesses saw the same figure.
The Pub:
How old is the Black Swan? We don’t know.
The first Belper market was held in October 1739. Markets remained relatively small affairs until the railway started bringing more visitors to the town in 1878. The market place was a grassy area until 1881, when George Henry Strutt had it paved. Belper people still called it ‘The Green’ for a long time. By 1887, there were plenty of pubs on the Market Place.
Some have said the Black Swan is the oldest. Charles Willott’s ‘Belper and its People’ (1894) supports this claim, saying it was the only pub on the market place for some time. T. R. Derry, in ‘Some Notes on Old Belper’ (1890) says that 16th century Belper boasted five ale houses. He named John Bradshaw, Widow Street, John Gyte, Edmund Andrew and Thomas Smythe as keepers, but did not say where in Belper they could be found.
Charles Willott tells a story from the time of the 1745 Jacobite rising, when he describes the Black Swan at that time as having a low overhanging front, heavy eaves and three steps down to get in. According Charles, the landlord at that time, Jasper Holroyd, was sympathetic to the Jacobites, and a Jacobite activist in the pub escaped by jumping out of the window when another customer denounced him. We are indebted to the lovely Adrian Farmer for this image of the pub at the end of the 18th century. It was an early coaching inn – the small buildings to the right were the stables.
This implies that the figure was probably wearing clothing dated from the time before the room he was seen in existed.
We cannot reliably date Mrs A’s figure, but we can say that he was dressed in a style dating from a time before Belper was a significant town. We cannot, of course, be sure the other witnesses saw the same figure.
The Pub:
How old is the Black Swan? We don’t know.
The first Belper market was held in October 1739. Markets remained relatively small affairs until the railway started bringing more visitors to the town in 1878. The market place was a grassy area until 1881, when George Henry Strutt had it paved. Belper people still called it ‘The Green’ for a long time. By 1887, there were plenty of pubs on the Market Place.
Some have said the Black Swan is the oldest. Charles Willott’s ‘Belper and its People’ (1894) supports this claim, saying it was the only pub on the market place for some time. T. R. Derry, in ‘Some Notes on Old Belper’ (1890) says that 16th century Belper boasted five ale houses. He named John Bradshaw, Widow Street, John Gyte, Edmund Andrew and Thomas Smythe as keepers, but did not say where in Belper they could be found.
Charles Willott tells a story from the time of the 1745 Jacobite rising, when he describes the Black Swan at that time as having a low overhanging front, heavy eaves and three steps down to get in. According Charles, the landlord at that time, Jasper Holroyd, was sympathetic to the Jacobites, and a Jacobite activist in the pub escaped by jumping out of the window when another customer denounced him. We are indebted to the lovely Adrian Farmer for this image of the pub at the end of the 18th century. It was an early coaching inn – the small buildings to the right were the stables.
This implies that the figure was probably wearing clothing dated from the time before the room he was seen in existed.
The building was remodelled in the 19th century, so that the ‘vaults’ were in what had been stables, and a shop was in the original pub.
In the 1960s, when Mrs A lived in the building, there was still a shop on the ground floor, part of the building had become a house, and the rest was the pub.
If we compare the old image to a recent photo of the Queen Street side, Mrs A’s bedroom would have been the window at the top on the right. Her room was above the space where the stables had been.
In the 1960s, when Mrs A lived in the building, there was still a shop on the ground floor, part of the building had become a house, and the rest was the pub.
If we compare the old image to a recent photo of the Queen Street side, Mrs A’s bedroom would have been the window at the top on the right. Her room was above the space where the stables had been.
In June 1980, the Black Swan became the new Tasters Wine bar, run by Keith Chadwick and Vivien Brayford. In 1987, the licensee was John Stones. The pub was refurbished, with a music bar downstairs.
Searching…….
Hours of plodding through microfilm copies of the Belper News and the Derby Trader came to nothing. We found no report of the band that ran away. However, some copies were missing, and we may even have missed something as we glazed over, going slightly mad with the tedium…
We couldn’t trace any of the people named in the stories.
Drew a blank.
Any Explanations?
We will focus on Mrs A, as she is the only witness we can talk to. She saw a man sitting in a chair superimposed on another chair, in a room built a long time after men wore those clothes and had that hairstyle.
An imaginative and intelligent girl, living a quiet life. Books, costume dramas, dreams?
As we start to fall asleep, our minds sometimes play tricks, making us think we can see, hear or even smell something. Called hypnogogic hallucinations, these experiences can be so vivid that it is hard to distinguish them from reality. Some people think that many eye witness paranormal experiences began as hypnogogic hallucinations. A simple, rational sounding explanation is that Mrs A had an hypnogogic hallucination. She thought about the experience many times over the following years. Maybe some of the detail she remembers now was filled in by parts of her subconscious as she grew up. Maybe she told other people her story now and then, then forgot she had said anything. Maybe it was repeated over the years. Maybe a member of the band heard it, and then imagined the same figure….
It is appropriate here to mention the work of Psychologist Elizabeth F. Loftus. She researched human memory, in particular eyewitness memory and the creation of false memories. Loftus discovered that memory is not fixed, but that it interacts with information a person might absorb after an event. Memories are malleable and not necessarily accurate. False memories can develop.
Suppose Mrs A had heard a whisper of Jim’s story, back in the 60s, when she was a little girl? Suppose it gave her a dream? Suppose that newspaper was a false memory?
Turning this explanation on its head, others would focus on the nature of the human brain and consciousness. They would say that our consciousness can perceive many subtle energies, unseen forces and even entities, but that we train ourselves to block out whatever seems unnatural, wrong or irrelevant. There is a trick some lecturers use when teaching about how we pay attention to some things and block out others. They insert, without pausing, an extra, off-topic word into a long speech. The one I heard said ‘hippo’ when explaining something entirely unconnected to animals. Hardly any students hear the extra word. Their brains dismiss it because it does not belong in whatever it is they are striving to understand. Adherents to this theory would say that the figure, whoever or whatever he was, may well have been in that building, and Mrs A became aware of him because her brain did not tell her to ignore him. Her inner filter system was not working, but kicked in after a few minutes, and then she stopped seeing him.
Suppose this theory to be true, who was the figure?
Hours of plodding through microfilm copies of the Belper News and the Derby Trader came to nothing. We found no report of the band that ran away. However, some copies were missing, and we may even have missed something as we glazed over, going slightly mad with the tedium…
We couldn’t trace any of the people named in the stories.
Drew a blank.
Any Explanations?
We will focus on Mrs A, as she is the only witness we can talk to. She saw a man sitting in a chair superimposed on another chair, in a room built a long time after men wore those clothes and had that hairstyle.
An imaginative and intelligent girl, living a quiet life. Books, costume dramas, dreams?
As we start to fall asleep, our minds sometimes play tricks, making us think we can see, hear or even smell something. Called hypnogogic hallucinations, these experiences can be so vivid that it is hard to distinguish them from reality. Some people think that many eye witness paranormal experiences began as hypnogogic hallucinations. A simple, rational sounding explanation is that Mrs A had an hypnogogic hallucination. She thought about the experience many times over the following years. Maybe some of the detail she remembers now was filled in by parts of her subconscious as she grew up. Maybe she told other people her story now and then, then forgot she had said anything. Maybe it was repeated over the years. Maybe a member of the band heard it, and then imagined the same figure….
It is appropriate here to mention the work of Psychologist Elizabeth F. Loftus. She researched human memory, in particular eyewitness memory and the creation of false memories. Loftus discovered that memory is not fixed, but that it interacts with information a person might absorb after an event. Memories are malleable and not necessarily accurate. False memories can develop.
Suppose Mrs A had heard a whisper of Jim’s story, back in the 60s, when she was a little girl? Suppose it gave her a dream? Suppose that newspaper was a false memory?
Turning this explanation on its head, others would focus on the nature of the human brain and consciousness. They would say that our consciousness can perceive many subtle energies, unseen forces and even entities, but that we train ourselves to block out whatever seems unnatural, wrong or irrelevant. There is a trick some lecturers use when teaching about how we pay attention to some things and block out others. They insert, without pausing, an extra, off-topic word into a long speech. The one I heard said ‘hippo’ when explaining something entirely unconnected to animals. Hardly any students hear the extra word. Their brains dismiss it because it does not belong in whatever it is they are striving to understand. Adherents to this theory would say that the figure, whoever or whatever he was, may well have been in that building, and Mrs A became aware of him because her brain did not tell her to ignore him. Her inner filter system was not working, but kicked in after a few minutes, and then she stopped seeing him.
Suppose this theory to be true, who was the figure?
If we want to go down that route, then there are two ideas we could consider. These would be popular with some, dismissed by others:
- 1. He could have been a lost soul, trapped in the awful days of the Civil War. Some people believe that ghosts are suffering souls who cannot leave because the circumstances around their deaths have not been resolved. Perhaps there was something he needed to finish, or perhaps his end was particularly traumatic. There are people who claim they can rescue trapped souls, helping them to move on.
- 2. He could have accidentally slipped forward in time, or Mrs A may have slipped back into his time. There are plenty of anecdotes from people who say they have moved in time. They never know why or how. They might be telling the truth. We don’t know.
