Although I was prompted to go to the UK by the 63rd World Science Fiction Convention, it takes very little to motivate me to make the trip. Time and money are my biggest obstacles. Since I was investing the time and expense to fly over to that mystical country, there was no way I was going to be satisfied with spending a single week in Glasgow. This time I planned on collecting some of the UK's ghost folklore firsthand. I never thought to do that during my previous trips. No where are phenomena more prevalent than in the Tower of London. I had visited twice before in 1979, but even though I was overwhelmed by the centuries of emotion that ancient fortress had absorbed, it never occurred to me to ask about its paranormal activity. Today this historical monument welcomes visitors with its well manicured lawns and gardens and restored ancient buildings and relics. On a sunshiny day, it is hard to imagine some of the gruesome and well documented events happening there. It was where many of England's high profile "traitors" were incarcerated during their final days, but this judgment was a stretch in some cases. The Tower's blend of historical significance and paranormal activity was a formidable way to start my round of sightseeing during my last UK tour, but I wish I had allowed more time to spend there. For anyone intrigued by British history, sometimes spending the full day there is not enough.

It's hard to encapsulate the history of the Tower of London. A few hundred years ago, many of the locals believed it was put up by the Romans and Salt Tower was called Julius Caesar’s Tower. The original structure, the White Tower, was actually built on the order of William I, aka William the Conqueror, as part of his plan to unify the country. At that time, his claim to the throne was shaky—many in the kingdom still thought Edgar Atheling was the rightful heir—but it was already obvious London was logistically the best power base for his takeover. William I needed motte and bailey fortresses to base his operations and impress anyone who dared to challenge him. He instructed his reliable retainer, Gundulf, Bishop of Rochester, to oversee the building of a stone keep. Using the Roman wall as a partial boundary, building started on the White Tower in 1078. The motte aspect was negligible even then, but a ditch rampart and palisade completed its enclosing barrier. It was an unpopular structure at first. Aside from usurping native royalty, the Normans also brought migrant Jews with them for their expertise in commerce and finance. When troubles arose between the English and Jews, the latter, who were immune to many of the country's laws, would run to the Tower for protection and the Constable usually sided with them. Over the centuries, the Tower served many functions of government. Its primary concern was military. It accommodated the royal arsenal (storage and workshops), soldiers, and sometimes protected the monarchy itself. It was the central location for the mint, records office, royal menagerie, and the Crown Jewels. It even provided space for Christian worship and a hospital. At first the residents worshipped in St. John's Chapel in the White Tower, but then it was decided that the king should seen attending services at St. Peter ad Vincula, which was just outside the Tower's walls at that time. However, what it is best known for is being a state prison, where the country's highest profile enemies were held and sometimes tortured. The first inmate was Rannulf Flambard, Bishop of Durham, who was buggered when William II died and Henry I, who had some grievance against his predecessor's ruthless retainer, took the throne. The last was Rudolph Hess, Hitler's deputy in the Nazi party. In addition to all of the Tower's official government functions, it was also a community. Many of those who worked there lived within the keep as well. Even to this day, the Yeoman Warders (aka "Beefeaters") have homes inside the premises. Although the complex began with the White Tower, which was very impressive at the turn of the 12th century, many other buildings were erected and destroyed within the fort as required by the needs of the time, including over 20 more towers. (By today's standards, though, these are very humble sized.) The monarchs who ordered the most significant modifications were Henry III, Edward I, and Henry VIII. During the 19th century, the UK revived an interest in all things gothic and the Office of Works appointed Architect Anthony Salvin to restore its medieval architecture. He was praised and awarded for pulling down some of the Tower's more meaningless auxiliary buildings and refurbishing Beauchamp Tower. His immediate successor, John Taylor, on the other hand, fought legitimate protests and had his way in tearing down several of its pre1400 structures because they failed to live up to his gothic aesthetic. Be that as it may, little serious alteration has taken place since Taylor's heavy hand.

With all of the drama and violence associated with the Tower, legends and ghost stories play a major part of its atmosphere. Charles II came close to euthanizing the ravens at the Tower when his astronomer complained the birds were interfering with his observations at the northeast turret. Someone reminded Charles that if the Tower lost its ravens, both the Tower and kingdom would fall. Charles had had some experience with that already, so he took no chances. There's been a small population of ravens within the Tower ever since. The leading star of its ghosts has to be Anne Boleyn, who was executed on the grass of its Inner Ward. During the 470 years since her death, more than one witness claims to have seen the headless shade of a woman in Tudor garb. Some also attribute such sightings to Jane Grey, the 9-days queen. Other reports have it that Sir Walter Ralegh is seen walking through the battlements near Bloody Tower. Timeslips have also been reported. One WWI sentry saw a medieval procession carrying the stretcher of a decapitated man to his final resting place. Yet another said he saw a group of people in old fashioned clothing clustering around a campfire. Most of these phenomena usually occur at night, after closing time, when the Tower is quiet. I would soon learn some paranormal activity was at work during the day too.


My Tower of London experience

Between working off my jet lag and being awakened during the night at my hotel, the Travelodge London Covent Garden, I had a much later start than I had originally intended that Friday. Unless I plan a time to meet somebody, I usually move at my own leisure in the morning, especially when I'm on vacation. Besides, I had been to the Tower before, so this was just going be a refresher for me. That's an attitude I regret taking now.

I took the Underground, which was still on the mend after the 7/7 bombings, but fortunately the Central line from Holborn to transfer at Bank was operational, so I made it to Tower Hill station without any serious delays. On exiting, I followed the signs through an underpass and soon came upon the remains of the Roman wall. At that time the Tower was 927 years old. This little bit of masonry is estimated to be about 1,700. The oldest structure of any kind I can think of in the U.S. is Montezuma Castle, which is just a little north of Phoenix and archeologists believe dates back to the 14th century. It is absolute incredible to think of all the recorded history that has occurred around this wall.

Approaching the Tower from the tube station, visitors can really see the contrast between old and new. Outside the southwest entrance are a few small Plexiglas booths selling tickets and behind that is a larger two-story version purveying all the good souvenirs dedicated to the Tower. Directly across the Thames is the Millennium Dome, bringing old and new face-to-face. None of these structures were here during my first couple of visits in 1979. It made me think of Prince Charles's statements to avoid clashing architecture. While I appreciate his efforts to preserve our heritage (my ancestry is dominated by those of English origins), how can we stop progress? Besides, with all of the architectural influences left behind by past monarchs, wouldn't Elizabeth II want something that speaks for her reign?

After purchasing my ticket and walking through the southwest gate, visitors immediately cross the bridge over the moat, which had been fully dried out by 1845 on the order of former Constable Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington. By that time, the moat had long since lost its purpose of being and the stagnant water was proving malodorous and unsanitary. Cleaning it out and filling it with dry dirt became advantageous during WWII, when it was turned into a victory garden. Today, grass covers the ground around the fortress's outer barrier wall.

A sign on the bridge indicated the next Yeoman Warder tour would start there in about 10 minutes. There are a lot of things to see and do at the Tower, but the one thing every visitor must do is take the guided tour by a Yeoman Warder. This elite order of knights was created by Henry VII, whose claim to the throne was rather shaky and he zealously protected his position in the kingdom—to the point where he executed several distant relatives who had perhaps a better claim to the throne than he did. The Tower has always been strongly associated with England's monarchy. He who controlled the Tower usually controlled the country; therefore, the Yeoman Warders' primary concern was for the monarch and the Tower. Today, thousands apply for the opportunity for one of its 38 Tower positions. Qualified applicants are retired from the Royal armed forces after 19 plus years of honorable service, but commissioned officers are ineligible.

Having taken three Yeoman Warder tours, I find a lot depends on how talented a storyteller the particular guide is. Some have more energy and others may have better senses of humor, but they all take the Tower's guests to the same points of interest within its Inner Ward. Among them are Traitor's Gate and the spot where Princess Elizabeth dropped to the ground and protested her innocence when her sister, Mary I (aka Bloody Mary), had her put into custody after the Wyatt rebellion. There was a quick walk through Bloody Tower. They take guests to a plaque embedded in the lawn indicating where the scaffolds were erected. Most executions took place on Tower Hill, but the cases where authorities feared the public's reaction were done behind its walls. There were seven of these, including William Hastings, Edward IV's Lord Chamberlain; Anne Boleyn, Henry VIII's second wife; Catherine Howard, Henry VIII's fifth wife; Jane Boleyn, Viscountess Rochford; Margaret Pole, Countess of Salisbury; Lady Jane Grey, the 9-days queen; and Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex. For the last stop, guests are taken inside St. Peter ad Vincula. After the original structure burned down, Henry VIII ordered this one to be built. The remains of those executed within the Tower since then were laid to rest under its floor stones, along with some prominent ones on Tower Hill. Two dukes lay between two queens. Aside from attending the services that are still regularly held there, the Yeoman Warders' tours are the only way the general public can access this church. My guide ended up scolding me when I took pictures of its interior. I hadn't realized this was not permitted. From what I remember of the tours I took in 1979, it seemed no major changes have been made in how it is conducted.

After the tour it seemed natural to take a walk through the White Tower. The first couple of centuries after it was built, the Royal family lived in the top story while their servants lived in the lower floors. Ironically, William I never spent much time there. Until about a couple of centuries ago, Royalty led rather nomadic lives. They shifted from castle to castle with their entourages for various reasons. After conquering England, William ordered the building of several castles and then went back to the Continent to protect his realm there. The Tower was still under construction when he died and his son, William II (aka William Rufus), saw to its completion. Today it is a museum, featuring the armory of several of England's past celebrities, including Henry VIII and his brother-in-law, Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk. (The codpieces on those things give guests an idea how lusty our ancestors were.) Its antique firearms are arranged in decorative patterns on its walls. Looking at these old muskets, it's disappointing to learn that the Grand Storehouse, which was located where Waterloo Barracks is now and destroyed by fire in 1841, bore weapons that were even older than these. It had also exhibited some of the clothes past monarchs wore. The White Tower also displays several other miscellaneous relics, such as original oil paintings of prominent historical figures, a set of character "busts" that were mascots for a long lost pub, and an authentic garterobe (toilet) used by its first 11th century occupants. Its plumbing was designed so the waste would wash out to the Thames.

On leaving the White Tower, I stopped to chat with one of the Yeoman Warders, who was quite friendly and took a picture with me. Unfortunately, I never acquired his name. He seemed young, considering the requirements for the job. He looked to be in his early to mid-40s. He was more than willing to tell some of the Tower's recent ghost stories and I took them as a lead to visit some "hot spots."

I took the battlement walk starting at Salt Tower. Looking over the wall, there was a section of the Tower that was not encouraging its guests. Several homes were lined up against each other like the painted ladies of San Francisco. They were the ones obviously occupied by the Yeoman Warders and their families. Signs of contemporary domestic life were evident by their outdoor furniture, toys, and grills. The old fortress is still an active one, even if it may be humble. Walking from the south point of the wall to the north required passing through a couple more towers, Broad Arrow and Constable. The Constable exhibited a model of how the Tower looked around 1355, after remodeling completed by Edward I. The wall walk ends on entering Martin Tower, where some of the Crown Jewels are exhibited. George IV's extravagant coronation crown was displayed there. Interesting to see how some of the more impressive stones were pulled out of their mountings to be used elsewhere. No one would think of Royalty as ever having to economize, but it's also likely that the supply for these gems was hard to find. My interest in seeing the whole jewel collection was minimal that day, but something to keep in mind is that when a special function comes up, the royals will temporarily withdraw items from exhibit so they can wear them. Also, very few pieces survived the Interregnum, as the Puritan Oliver Cromwell had all the Crown Jewels' metal melted down and put to other uses. Only one item was missed—a small coronation spoon—that is still in the Royal collection. Charles I's consort, Henrietta Maria, took some items to sell when she fled to France, but they are obviously no longer in the possession of the British royal family. This tower was the primary location where the collection was displayed during the 17th century, when the notorious Colonel Thomas Blood and couple of cohorts tried to steal Charles II's coronation regalia.

After walking through the battlements, it was tea time. I went to the Tower's restaurant, which can be found in the New Armories building, and was quite impressed by what it offered. It had hot entrées as well as cold. Restaurant may be a slight exaggeration, though. Most of the food was served cafeteria style. My appetite was minimal at that moment, so I was quite content to take a slice of cherry mousse pie and a cup of Twinings tea, coincidentally my favorite brand. Sitting at the table gave me the opportunity to people watch and jot down my notes before I forgot the details of my visit. One of the things I kick myself now for is not yet having my guidebook and going through it then. Exhibits shift around at the Tower. If only I had known torture instruments were at Wakefield Tower, as I missed seeing the "Duke of Exeter's daughter" (aka the rack) during my previous visits.

Before leaving, I took another walk through Bloody Tower where Sir Walter Ralegh was last banged up before he was sent to the block. To irritate James I, he would walk the battlements between it and 7 Tower Green, the end of the timber Tudor structure now known as the Queen's House. Sir Walter had achieved a celebrity status while incarcerated, and many visitors and pedestrians cheered him. For years it was commonly held that the Little Princes, Edward V and his brother, Richard, Duke of York, were murdered there. Historians now believe that ugly event more likely occurred in the White Tower.

Although there are a couple of small shops inside the Tower, I went to the highly exploitive commercial one by the ticket booths to pick up my souvenir books. Nothing like having a teapot or mug with the theme of the six wives of Henry VIII. I settled for a deluxe ballpoint pen.


The ghost stuff

With Anne Boleyn, Sir Walter Ralegh, and the Little Princes dominating the Tower's ghost folklore, it's worth repeating some of its more obscure published accounts. Although the Royal Menagerie was moved out in 1834 on the order of the Duke of Wellington (who quite sensibly thought of the Tower as a military center and museum), there have been reports of some of its guards encountering the phantoms of exotic animals. One guard was frightened when he confronted a bear near Martin Tower. He thrust at it with his bayonet, only to plunge the blade into a wooden door. When the bear rushed the soldier, he fainted. On hearing the blade hit the door, another guard appeared but saw nothing of the bear. The first soldier never recovered from the shock—repeatedly describing the incident—and died a couple of days later.

Edward Lenthal Swifte was a former Keeper of the Crown Jewels. During October 1817, he was sitting down at dinner with his wife, their little boy and her sister in their private rooms in Martin Tower. Both Swift and his wife noticed a cylindrical object appear and hover between the table and the ceiling. He said it was like a glass tube with a dense white and azure liquid pulsating in it. It eventually moved from diner to diner, until it paused over his wife's shoulder. "Oh Christ, it has seized me!" she cried. He immediately picked up his chair and swung it through the manifestation and it disappeared. What baffled them even more was that neither Swifte's sister-in-law nor son saw it.

The White Tower, being the oldest building in the fort, has had the most time to absorb paranormal imprints. Aside from the belief that was where the rack was located and operated, so was "Little Ease," a prison cell that once held Guy Fawkes. Little Ease was so small its inmates could neither stand up or lay down full length in it. Once the Ceremony of the Keys has been wound up and the residents of the Tower have settled down for the night, the security of the keep is handed over to the Custody Guards, who pass through the premises several times during the night to ensure all's well. Of course, it's a general rule that ghosts are intimidated when lots of people are around. When all of the visitors have left for the day and the building is quiet, they're much more likely to come out. Custody Guard B. "Taff" Cullen reported smelling a cheap, nauseating perfume that would start permeating in St. John's Chapel around midnight, build up through the wee hours of the morning, and then dissipate just before life starts to stir for the new day. Another guard backed up his claims. Yet another custody guard, Arthur Crick, was doing a walkthrough one night when he sat down to briefly rest his feet in the Tournament Gallery just before leaving the White Tower. He took off one shoe, then heard someone say "There is only you and I here. There is only you and I here." Needless to say, he was the only living person in the structure at the time.

"You wait 'til I get this bloody shoe back on and there'll be only you here!" Crick replied, then promptly left.

Not all ghosts find crowds intimidating. The kind of ambition it took to be a king or well-favored courtier would appreciate attracting supportive people. After having my pictures developed, I found a couple of orbs in the photo I took of the two pub busts. That's at least two spirits who liked being around the living.

I was really disappointed when one of the Beefeaters had no ghost stories to share. "I don't believe in them," he said with a tone of dismissal. Okay. It's hard to believe anyone living in the Tower had not heard any of its ghost stories. It's all part of its atmosphere. Fortunately, the one who took the picture with me was able to give me a couple of fresh ones. He told me just the day before his daughter had walked through Salt Tower and came out of it finding some fresh scratches on her legs. This is an example that the living can be harmed by ghosts. Fortunately, I came out of the building unscathed and seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

However, this Yeoman Warder also added some fresh detail to one of the Tower's darkest ghost stories, the one about the Little Princes. At the height of the War of the Roses in the late 15th century, 12-year-old Edward V ascended the throne when his father, Edward IV unexpectedly died. Edward IV's brother, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, took custody of the boys and put them in the Tower for "safekeeping." Realizing he could lose his power as Regent, he found a loophole to declare Edward IV's marriage null and void, making Edward V and his brother illegitimate and ineligible for the throne. Gloucester then became Richard III. The Little Princes were often seen playing around Tower Green and its battlements, but were seen less and less as Richard usurped their power and were eventually no longer seen at all. Rumors started that they were murdered. By October 1483, it was a commonly accepted fact. Even to this day, no one knows exactly what happened to the boys. Perkin Warbeck even made the mistake of challenging Henry VII during the 1490s by claiming to be the younger one, Richard Plantagenet, Duke of York. In 1674, while some remodeling was being done on the White Tower, workers found the remains of two children under a staircase. The details of these skeletons matched everything that was known of the Little Princes, settling the question of where they went. However, their apparitions were seen beside each other, wearing white nightshirts in the Bloody Tower. There have been many claims that they can still be seen playing on Tower Green and in the battlements. What my Yeoman Warder friend added to this story is that one of his colleagues went ballistic when he learned that his own children were playing with the Little Princes.


The bottom line

From November 1 through February 28, the Tower is open from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., Tuesday through Saturday, and 10 a.m. to 5 p.m., Sunday and Monday. Last admission is 4 p.m. From March 1 through October 31, it is open until 6 p.m. with a last admission at 5 p.m. It is closed December 24–26 and January 1. Admission is £15.00 for adults, £9.50 for children ages 6–16, ages 5 and under free. Students with ID and seniors are £12.00. Special family packs are available for £43.00, which gives admission to two adults and up to three children. Package deals can also be made for those interested in visiting Hampton Court and Kensington Palaces. The official website says allow 2–3 hours to visit the Tower, but people who have more than a casual interest may want to spend more time there. No photography is permitted in St. Peter ad Vincula, the White Tower, and Jewel House. (I guess was naughty more than once.) There are a couple of dining options and rest rooms available in the complex. Visitors are only permitted to bring service dogs in the Tower and there are no facilities for them. Special events are frequently planned there, such as living history pageants and music festivals. See the official website at http://www.hrp.org.uk/webcode/tower_home.asp, if interested.

After doing the research for this review, my biggest regret is that I didn't even purchase the official guidebook until after I left. I would have had even more appreciation for it if I had paid more attention to some of its stories beforehand, such as Samuel Pepys's treasure hunt and the escape of William Maxwell, Earl of Nithsdale. Learning that a good portion of the structures some of England's early monarchs had actually lived in were demolished was a real bummer, as well as the Great Hall that took up most of its Inmost Ward. Up until the 19th century, no one seemed to appreciate its significant age and even then John Taylor seemed to do more harm than help. Some beautiful interior murals were plastered over with simple Tudor stucco and the Roman wall was razed to add a "lean-to" on the White Tower and expand eastward to its full 12 acres. The first time I was there in 1979, I was so enchanted during that visit I went again less than a week later. The historical folklore that surrounds it is enormous, it's only natural so many ghost stories follow them. When I returned to California in 1979, my choice of non-fiction reading shifted from old Hollywood to English history. The Tower's influence is still rather strong. Three visits are not enough. I'm ready to go again.


Recommended: Yes

Best Time to Travel Here: Anytime