The beautiful Georgian house, Burghstead Lodge, in the High Street, Billericay, has a spine-chilling story told of a haunted bedroom at the back of the building (southwest room, first floor).

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The story was recounted by J.A. Sparvel-Bayly, who lived there in the late 1870s and early 1880s. He told how an old retainer in the 19th century was engaged to be a night nurse to a young, unknown gentleman at Burghstead Lodge. He was in a critical condition and was not to be spoken to unless necessary. The house, let to a non-resident nobleman and lived in by members of his family, had little to do with local tradesman.

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On the first night, as the nurse sat by the smouldering log fire in the huge fireplace, there were no sounds but the moaning of the wind. At midnight the patient breathed heavily and seemed uneasy and the nurse was surprised to see a lady in a green silk gown with a black veil over her bonnet sitting by the bedhead. The nurse was unalarmed and curtsied and moved towards the bed. However, the lady motioned her to be seated, so the nurse sat and wondered how and when the lady had come in. 
 

It was cold and late for a visitor and she had been told that no visitors came. The lady sat watching the patient and repulsed the nurse when she approached the bed to help the patient, who was very uneasy. At last, the nurse closed her eyes for a moment – the lady had disappeared and the patient was easier banged in the wind. The nurse felt uneasy and somewhat creepy and was thinking that she would give up her engagement, when heavy breathing of her patient made her look up to see the lady in the green gown again seated by his bed.

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The nurse thought she must be an inmate of the house, as her dress, the very low bodice summer costume of the period, was quite unsuitable for the inclement weather. When the nurse rose to go to the bed, she waved her back. The patient’s agitation, however, so increased that the nurse did approach the bed in spite of the lady’s gestures. The lady drew her veil across her face and retired to the window. The patient appeared in agony, with drops of perspiration rolling down his face, while his eyes followed the lady in her glittering gown and he repulsed all the nurses offers of help.

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The next morning the nurse was found cold and numb on the floor and the patient appeared to have been for many hours.

 

The mysterious young man was buried in the parish church with a lavish funeral. A gentleman whose features bore a striking resemblance to the effigy upon the coin of the realm and a London physician alone followed the body to the grave. A plain and exquisite tablet was placed in the church a year afterwards bearing the words, “Charles Leroy died 29 February, 18---. Remember.”

 

Poor nurse died three months after her dreadful ordeal and the gloomy chamber was said to have a strange feeling of awe and coldness by whoever occupied it afterwards, although nothing was ever seen or heard to alarm the weakest nerves.

 

Mr Sparvel-Bayly used to point out the haunted room to visitors (especially young ladies), but his daughter said that she and her sisters never saw anything unusual, even when they slept in the room but then Mr Bayly did say that nothing was there to alarm the weakest nerves.

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