In 1940, psychical investigator and ghost hunter Harry Price produced an account of his stays and studies at Borley Rectory. The book was called ‘The Most Haunted House in England.’ And for a time, the Price was right.

Like so many others, I was raised on stories of Borley Rectory and became obsessed with claims of the paranormal from afternoons of sitting with my grandad, pointing at pictures of scribbled spirit writing in tatty encyclopaedias. I have such a real warmth and emotional attachment to the story, and truly wish I believed in all of the reports. They are fantastical, outrageous, with sex and death intertwined against a background of tortured nuns and gothic architecture. Is it any surprise that for many years, most of the UK was entranced by Borley’s strange happenings? 

Built in 1862, the house was installed as the residence for the parish rector and was instantly the subject of local gossip. The rectory was an imposing and strange building with a pointed (and much photographed) east frontage and cramped internal courtyard. The earlier rectory had burned to the ground in 1841, and the gothic monolith that replaced it was ripe for excitable imaginations to run riot.

Borley itself is a tiny rural community of three hamlets in Essex, that had 110 inhabitants at the last census. Nonetheless, local legends have been long established, primarily concerning the supposed existence of a Benedictine monastery in the area around 1362. 

Tradition states that a local monk began a secret affair with a nun from a nearby convent. After the affair was discovered by their superiors, the lovers were brutally punished. The monk was swiftly executed, but the nun suffered a far worse fate; being bricked up in the convent walls and left to suffocate and die. Relievedly, for the monk and nun, the story, and the monastery seem to be little more than local legend, with no historical basis at all. Namely, no religious orders were harmed in the making of this ghost story.

Despite the monk/nun story proven to be false, the tale of the murdered lovers would form the basis of many future investigations, reports and paranormal claims.

Tales of Borley’s ghosts first emerged in 1863 when the reports of schoolchildren were circulated, as they claimed to have seen the ghost of a nun. In 1900, another group of children claimed to have seen the ghost of a nun in the rectory’s grounds that disappeared as soon as they approached. As deliciously consistent as these reports may be at face value, it is now generally considered that the first rector’s children concocted the first report, based on the physically imposing appearance of the house.

It was 1927 when the Reverend Guy Eric Smith and his wife moved into the rectory and the first instances of a very modern haunting laid their roots. Shortly after moving in, the skull of a young woman was found in a cupboard by his wife. This discovery was said to have been the trigger for supernatural activity within the house. Immediately after the skull discovery, a whole host of paranormal events were said to have occurred; strange lights appeared, unexplained footsteps moved within the house and the ghostly apparition of a horse-drawn carriage was seen nearby.

The couple went on to contact The Daily Mirror, saying that their intent was to make contact with the Society for Psychical Research (SPR).

Naturally, when tabloids are contacted, issues arise concerning the individuals’ intent, desire for publicity and the legitimacy of their claims. These issues of fame versus sincerity would similarly plague Borley throughout its years of infamy.

The Mirror responded to the couple’s claims by sending a reporter, joined by Harry Price, a paranormal researcher carving a name for himself as a renowned investigator of mediums, psychics and séance.

Shortly after Price’s arrival, the unexplained activity increased considerably. Price compiled a report of his dramatic experiences, recounting spirit messages and objects thrown about the house by unseen hands. Curiously, as Price departed, so did the phenomena.

By June 1929, The Smiths would leave Borley and be replaced in October 1930 by the Reverend Lionel Algernon Foyster, Marianne, his wife, and their daughter Adelaide. It would be this family, and Marianne in particular, who would become most synonymous with the ghostly goings on. 

The family remained in the house for five years, during which time the reverend compiled a substantial report of all the supernatural experiences the family had endured. This enormous dossier was subsequently submitted to Harry Price, whose interest would only grow as the years passed.

The reverend’s report included a variety of distressing claims, including: the breaking of windows, strange writing appearing on the walls, their daughter being locked in a room to which there was no key, and objects such as bottles and stones were thrown about the house.

Marianne would make additions to the document that would eclipse anything reported before. The reverend’s wife appeared to be at the centre of the most extreme poltergeist activity, claiming to have been violently thrown from bed and periodically attacked by an unseen agent.

Reporting back to The Daily Mirror, Price was understandably interested and concerned after reading the reverend’s report and sought to exorcise the house. He attempted so on two occasions, but to no avail; the phenomena was here to stay. Price’s reports of 1929 gained instant and enormous public attention and soon enough, a whole plethora of amateur reporters and psychical researchers would attend the rectory in the hope of studying the phenomena.