It had been raining heavily all week. It always seemed to rain in Yorkshire. Elizabeth gazed wistfully at the misty window watching the raindrops race to the bottom of the windowpane. She picked up her book once again only to return it to its place on the table a few minutes later. The story did not seem to interest her. Her thoughts lay with her favourite horse Blackie back at home in Leicestershire. She hoped Blackie would be all right. She didn't trust George, although he had been their butler for the last eight years, to look after him properly. George never seemed to like horses after his bad fall in the Boxing Day Hunt the year before. She started day dreaming - imagining the days last summer when she had ridden Blackie around the park. She wished she could be there right now. The creak of the door opening startled her. She turned round to see her father, Edward, standing in the doorway. He smiled, a warm welcome. He explained he had hired a Hanson cab to take her back to the house in Leicestershire that very afternoon and that he would be delayed by a few days as he had some business to attend to.
Thoughts raced around Elizabeth's head. What if Blackie is ill? What if she met highwaymen on the way? What would she say to the butler? She didn't feel she wanted to be on her own in the house with him. It would have been so much nicer if her father could have come with her. She would have felt safer with him there. His business would take at least three more days he had said and Yorkshire had turned out to be such a dreadful place. At least she would be able to see whether Blackie was safe with her own eyes and she could be certain of a warm welcome from the friendly black dogs.
The rain lashed at the roof of the cab almost urging the horses to gallop faster. The wind howled like wolves, buffeting the cab's doors. The horse's hooves clattered on the cobbled stones. Faster and faster the driver urged the horses on as if their lives depended on it. In the distance thunder rumbled like a hungry bear's stomach. A great spear of light suddenly shot out of the black sky, illuminating the surroundings for a split second. She thought she could see faces staring at her from the trees. She stifled a scream as she thought she saw George's face in a gnarled old tree but told herself not to be so silly. Moments later the cab drew up outside her house.
The sound of the bell echoed in the stony silence. From deep within the house she could hear the sound of the dogs barking excitedly as they rushed toward the hall. The butler nastily told the dogs to be quiet. The old oak door creaked slowly open to reveal the hunched figure of the butler. His tiny grey eyes narrowed to thin slits. He had not expected her home so soon. The dogs leapt upon her licking her face and rubbing her with cold wet noses. George's cold bony, skeleton hand stretched out towards her bags. They walked in single file up the narrow staircase. The eerie light from the candles danced shadows on the wall. A cold, icy breeze sent a sudden chill down her spine. She shivered. She had forgotten how cold the old house could be. She managed to keep her head high and seem fearless as they entered her bedroom. George dumped her bags on her four poster bed and disappeared without saying a word. Feeling tired after her long journey, Elizabeth got ready for bed. She took the precaution of locking her door first. Rummaging through her bag she found her grey dress. She ironed away the creases with her hand as best she could and laid it on her chair ready for the morning. Her long mass of flowing curls bounced onto her shoulders as she undid the pins securing her bun. After completing all of these tasks she climbed into her cold bed, shivering beneath the sheets. Tossing and turning for what seemed like hours, she eventually fell fast asleep.
It was a lovely sunny day when Edward made his return journey home. The steady beat of the horses' hooves on the cobbled stones was music to his ears. His thoughts turned to riding with his daughter. The patchwork blanket of fields spread out on either side of him, as far as the eye could see. Wisps of smoke spiralled up from farm workers' cottages. Inhaling the peaceful air, he slipped into a deep sleep. Crunch! A wheel going over a large stone woke him up with a start. He gazed out of the window still half asleep to see where he was but the sight that met his eyes took him totally by surprise. There in front of him was George, the butler, hanging from a tree branch. He shuddered and wondered what had happened and whether his precious daughter would be harmed. Moments later his cab drew up outside the house.
Edward jumped out of the cab and ran towards the house. He called to Elizabeth but got no reply. He flung open the large oak door and raced upstairs calling again and again to Elizabeth. At the top of the stairs he could see Elizabeth's bedroom door open and Elizabeth lying perfectly still on the bed. He approached the bed slowly and quietly knelt down beside her. To his horror he saw that she was dead - she had been murdered with a sharp, kitchen knife. He span round to see the lock had been forced open. He picked up her favourite dress that had been so carefully arranged on her chair and laid it alongside her. With his head in his hands he sat in the chair and wept bitterly.
So that was it, the story of Lady Elizabeth Grey and today is the 200th anniversary of her death. The ghost of Lady Elizabeth Grey, wearing her favourite grey dress is usually seen on this day walking in the direction of the stables. Ah, that's the clock in the village chiming midnight. She will be here shortly.
Psssst I've a story to tell you. Pull yourself closer to the fire - you may need its warmth to comfort you. This is the story of Lady Elizabeth Grey.
It had been raining heavily all week. It always seemed to rain in Yorkshire. Elizabeth gazed wistfully at the misty window watching the raindrops race to the bottom of the windowpane. She picked up her book once again only to return it to its place on the table a few minutes later. The story did not seem to interest her. Her thoughts lay with her favourite horse Blackie back at home in Leicestershire. She hoped Blackie would be all right. She didn't trust George, although he had been their butler for the last eight years, to look after him properly. George never seemed to like horses after his bad fall in the Boxing Day Hunt the year before. She started day dreaming - imagining the days last summer when she had ridden Blackie around the park. She wished she could be there right now. The creak of the door opening startled her. She turned round to see her father, Edward, standing in the doorway. He smiled, a warm welcome. He explained he had hired a Hanson cab to take her back to the house in Leicestershire that very afternoon and that he would be delayed by a few days as he had some business to attend to.
Thoughts raced around Elizabeth's head. What if Blackie is ill? What if she met highwaymen on the way? What would she say to the butler? She didn't feel she wanted to be on her own in the house with him. It would have been so much nicer if her father could have come with her. She would have felt safer with him there. His business would take at least three more days he had said and Yorkshire had turned out to be such a dreadful place. At least she would be able to see whether Blackie was safe with her own eyes and she could be certain of a warm welcome from the friendly black dogs.
The rain lashed at the roof of the cab almost urging the horses to gallop faster. The wind howled like wolves, buffeting the cab's doors. The horse's hooves clattered on the cobbled stones. Faster and faster the driver urged the horses on as if their lives depended on it. In the distance thunder rumbled like a hungry bear's stomach. A great spear of light suddenly shot out of the black sky, illuminating the surroundings for a split second. She thought she could see faces staring at her from the trees. She stifled a scream as she thought she saw George's face in a gnarled old tree but told herself not to be so silly. Moments later the cab drew up outside her house.
The sound of the bell echoed in the stony silence. From deep within the house she could hear the sound of the dogs barking excitedly as they rushed toward the hall. The butler nastily told the dogs to be quiet. The old oak door creaked slowly open to reveal the hunched figure of the butler. His tiny grey eyes narrowed to thin slits. He had not expected her home so soon. The dogs leapt upon her licking her face and rubbing her with cold wet noses. George's cold bony, skeleton hand stretched out towards her bags. They walked in single file up the narrow staircase. The eerie light from the candles danced shadows on the wall. A cold, icy breeze sent a sudden chill down her spine. She shivered. She had forgotten how cold the old house could be. She managed to keep her head high and seem fearless as they entered her bedroom. George dumped her bags on her four poster bed and disappeared without saying a word. Feeling tired after her long journey, Elizabeth got ready for bed. She took the precaution of locking her door first. Rummaging through her bag she found her grey dress. She ironed away the creases with her hand as best she could and laid it on her chair ready for the morning. Her long mass of flowing curls bounced onto her shoulders as she undid the pins securing her bun. After completing all of these tasks she climbed into her cold bed, shivering beneath the sheets. Tossing and turning for what seemed like hours, she eventually fell fast asleep.
It was a lovely sunny day when Edward made his return journey home. The steady beat of the horses' hooves on the cobbled stones was music to his ears. His thoughts turned to riding with his daughter. The patchwork blanket of fields spread out on either side of him, as far as the eye could see. Wisps of smoke spiralled up from farm workers' cottages. Inhaling the peaceful air, he slipped into a deep sleep. Crunch! A wheel going over a large stone woke him up with a start. He gazed out of the window still half asleep to see where he was but the sight that met his eyes took him totally by surprise. There in front of him was George, the butler, hanging from a tree branch. He shuddered and wondered what had happened and whether his precious daughter would be harmed. Moments later his cab drew up outside the house.
Edward jumped out of the cab and ran towards the house. He called to Elizabeth but got no reply. He flung open the large oak door and raced upstairs calling again and again to Elizabeth. At the top of the stairs he could see Elizabeth's bedroom door open and Elizabeth lying perfectly still on the bed. He approached the bed slowly and quietly knelt down beside her. To his horror he saw that she was dead - she had been murdered with a sharp, kitchen knife. He span round to see the lock had been forced open. He picked up her favourite dress that had been so carefully arranged on her chair and laid it alongside her. With his head in his hands he sat in the chair and wept bitterly.
So that was it, the story of Lady Elizabeth Grey and today is the 200th anniversary of her death. The ghost of Lady Elizabeth Grey, wearing her favourite grey dress is usually seen on this day walking in the direction of the stables. Ah, that's the clock in the village chiming midnight. She will be here shortly.
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