​Digging for GHOSTS at

NEWSTEAD ABBEY

 

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Cast

Lord Byron

John Hanson

Thaddy - Hanson's man

Joe Murray

Nanny Smith

Lucy

Susan

Bob Rushton

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Scene 1

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1807, Newstead Abbey library

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J: My Lord (raps on door) - my Lord?

B(yawns): Joe? - what is it! - you've interrupted a most disturbing dream (shivers) - a Gothic knight, a Christian dame, and a Pagan lover were gazing upon me - and whispering into my ear, which is unlike any other ear in Nottinghamshire, I then dreamt a thousand fancies concerning them (to self: and excellent poetic fodder it was too) - what can it all mean?

J: You shouldn't sleep in here with them old portraits and armour suits about ye, my Lord - why - in the dusk they seem to come alive - Lucy and Susan will not come in here unless it be in pairs!

B: Pfft! - In my own chamber, I have monk skulls - skulls, Joe! Nanny cleaned the jolly fellows and put them in frames withal - if I glance an eye at them, they all seem to grin back at me - heh heh

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J wishes for the good old days when he could bless himself without being thrown into the Tower

 

J: Your yellow-eyed legal man is here, my Lord - from London - with his man-servants, grooms and cooks - where am I to put them? - there is only sea-coal enough for 'ere and t' kitchen! Lucy 'n Susan have taken t' warming the bed sheets by themselves - what are we to do, my Lord?

B: Hanson, is it? Well, show him in Joe - perchance he has finally sold my mines and we shall have our own coal to warm the bed-sheets

J: But what are they to eat?

B: Devil if I know, Joe - are there oats in the stables?

J: What are they to drink? Our light French wines and sable Burgundies are all but gone

B(jumps up, violently): Send them to mother's in Southwell!

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H's man Thaddy opens the door, bows low - Hanson sashays in

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JH: Good day t'ye, Byron (screws up nostrils) - Thaddy - fetch me my decanters (sneers at sopha) - and the green velvet cushion and a bottle of cologne - off with you! (T bows, departs) - Well, my lord, you can assume by my coach and four - humph! - and it's months-old upholstery - that the state of my diminished fortunes is tied with your own - your Rochdale mines are unsold (B's knuckles clench) - you have not been collecting rent - and you remain unbetrothed to any class of fortune

B(sneers painfully): Good day, Mr. Hanson (looks out to glossy yellow carriage) - my sympathies are indeed with you, I'll have Joe and Nanny remember you in their prayers

H: Sarcasm ill-becomes you - my Lord - and will not pay for slates nor window panes (yells) - Thaddy?!

B: You'll have brandy, Hanson (water plops from the ceiling) - not neat, one hopes

H: I'll await my own bottle - I am unused to the coarser vintages

B: You'll sit - here - by the fire?

H: I should not want to appropriate such a meagre feast of heat 

B(grinds teeth, inhales with force): Just so - you shall take some direction standing upright and sober, Mr. Hanson (H fumbles) - Thou - as my employee, Hanson - are responsible for collecting my rents, clearing the deed to my mines - and for scouring the Court Guide for matrimonial prospects - your inaction on these matters has been so protracted, I feared some accident has prevented you from fulfilling them

JH: The rogue Deardon will not shift on the deeds! - worse - he has scalped me most grievously for a pair of black ponies (looks out to the glistening thoroughbred steeds)

​B: Hanson - well you know that I have no great curiosity in business except that my many thousands of acres affords my tailor and jeweller some relief!

H: Just so? In that case, you should be delighted to hear that I have an eager expression of interest from a foreign party, Count Centreparques, in purchasing Newstead for use as an Inn, with entertainment for small children, water sports, horses etc...

B: A what?! - an INN?

H: He is prepared to make an acceptable offer - your debts cannot go unpaid much longer - er, mine included, which has accrued massive interest since I first took over your own a week before you were born

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Thaddy enters with goods

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H: Thaddy - take them back to my coach, we are leaving - Byron, you have to sell unless you raise funds some other way - anon until sunset tomorrow, I shall bring the deeds to Newstead for you to sign over 

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H leaves, swipes a silver candlestick on his way out​​

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Scene 2

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​​Byron calls staff into the disused chapel

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B is on the pulpit musing: (mmm, quite like the theatricality of this station - wouldn't do for a nobleman to prance about on the Drury Lane stage, but I could let my oratory fly up here (practices florid pointing and thundering frowns) - sheperding my laundresess into of salvation by way of my chambers - ooh! a lecturn! - my, how one could have made use of  it in the House, prating unsupported for hours when one's foot is deucedly uncooperative)

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The staff enter

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J: My lord!

N: Have ye taken holy orders, my Lord?!

L (whispers to Susan): Ooh - would not my Lord look beauteous in a black cassock and red stockings

B(overhears and grins): Nay, my faithful retainers - I am - yet - an unrepentant sinner (Nanny covers her ears) - and bear no right to parade about the pantry in red stockings (breathes deep and shakes out curls) My friends, I shall make a light spake of it - the Abbey, and your employment, is in peril - unless funds are raised - and pronto - it will fall to one of Hanson's cronies (grabs lecturn tightly) - to a Frenchman!

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Gasps and weeping ensue

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J: But why are we here, in t' chapel?

B: It is the only place where I can detail my plan of action. You see, I do not want to rouse the spirits of the Abbey's former residents - for if any remain on earth, they are barred from entering this blessèd spot (paces) - My dear serfs, our only way forward is to follow the path of my ancestors..

J: We are to become light infantrymen?
B: Nay Joe - good god, man - we are to search for treasure!

L: But we will be cursed if we disturb the old monks' sleep

B: I'm ahead of you there, Lucy - we shall not tempt purgatory - for - if the Virgin shall fall out of her niche between now and sunrise - we shall abandon all hope and surrender to the French

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Nods of agreement

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​S: I heard tell in Sir John of the Little Beard's time, there was a deal of money buried about the Abbey by the Abbot in old times

J: Aye, Susan - my father spaked of taking up the flagging in the cloisters with the fifth Lord - they digged and digged, but found nothing but stone coffins full of old bones

B: Ah, but the Augustinians were fond of luxury and loot - hmm, the lake has been dredged several times, so we shall not attempt that again..

Bob: Aye 'tis true - sure only a couple of years ago wasn't their golden lecturen drugged up from the lake with an eagle on top as big as the sun!

B: Yes, well, Bob - we mightn't get that lucky - ecclesiastical property mayhap must be returned to the parish - Reverend Becher - or whoever is hectoring the peasants these days in Southwell

J: Nay, my lord! - 'tis the property of the old church!

B(gasps): Be damned if you're not right, Joe! - and as we have no catholics within a Roundhead's flaming arrow's reach  - we can rightly claim any such booty as our own

All: Huzzahs for our Lord!

B: Joe, Bob, Nanny - you're to inform our tenants to gather in the courtyard at sunrise. What is that by the clock - 10, 12?

J: Nay - this time of year 'tis 5 am

B: Just so? (to self:  must double-check with Spooney's Scientific Journal) - Ensure they bring digging implements, d'you know, forks and spades - spoons, and whatnot

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​The staff hurry off to inform the tenants, and confiscate their cutlery - B attempts a nap​ in preparation - is disturbed by the ghost of the Black Friar

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B: Be damned! - Why can't I be haunted by the ghosts of serving wenches (snores)​

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Scene 3

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Sunrise - all are gathered in the courtyard, the Fletcher clan noticeable by their porridge stains

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​B: Welcome my faithful yokels, apologies about your roofing situation - but, as you can see, mine is not much better (a tile falls on top of Fletcher's head) - to the work at hand - we need an indoor and an outdoor party, and as a storm looks immiment, I shall lead the indoor troupe as rain deranges my hair somewhat (L & S nod) - Bob, you shall lead the outdoor party, I suggest you start under the Satyr statue, surely my predecesor put it there to hide something - then to the folly, then the forts' cannons, the forestry, the fish pond..

Bob: All in one day, my honoured Lord?
B: Hanson will be upon us at sunset - any loot found will result in a shiny crown each, placed in the funds, of course, for your education

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The lads rush off with their spoons and spades

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B: Very well - now, ladies, and Nanny - we shall tackle the cloisters, attics, etc. 

N: The fifth lord, my Lord, why he blocked off one end of the Great Hall - put coffins along so that the servants were afraid to go there of nights and dig on their own

S: We could go up the fireplaces instead, my Lord!  

B: Excellent, Susan - I shall give you a lift up - Lucy - you attack the flagstones in the larder - for certes those plump monks fancied a midnight revel

L: Perchance they bet at hazard and stashed their winnings

T: Aye - perhaps they stuffed coins into their puddings
B: To the house!  

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B and the ladies hurry inside

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B: Right - now, Nanny (looks around) - Nanny?

N: I don't like to be disturbing the dead, my Lord - not even for a crown in the funds (whispers) - there be bogles - ghosts - here at Newstead, my Lord

B: Yes, I am aware of what a bogle is, Nanny. What nonsense you tell about ghosts, as if there ever were any such things. I have never seen anything of the kind about the Abbey (is fishing) - and I warrant you have not?

N: I never saw anything, but I heard something once. One evening - scrubbing the floor of the little dining-room at the end of the long gallery - all at once I heard heavy footsteps in the Great Hall. They sounded like the tramp of a horse. I took the light to the end of the hall where they stopped, but I could see nothing...

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B realises chambermaids will be in short supply if Newstead is rumoured to be haunted

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B: Bah! - 'tis but the aspect of the mansion under the varying influence of twilight and moonlight, and cloud and sunshine operating upon its halls, and galleries, and monkish cloisters - it's enough to breed all kinds of fancies in the minds of its inmates 

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​The girls scream

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B: Holy God, what is it now?

T: My lord - did we not see t'other night - when we were warming Joe's bedsheets - across the hall..

S: ...a great black hairy thing..

T: ...he said he was the Devil!

B: Oh, how good of him to introduce himself - if he was indeed Beelzebub, ye got off lightly - now, as Nanny attests, there are no ghosts at Newstead and we may hack away at the good men's earthly remains without fear of spectral repercussions

L: The keeper’s wife said she saw two standing in a dark part of the cloisters just opposite the chapel, and one in the garden by the lord’s well

S: Then there was a young lady, a cousin of ye old lord, who was staying in the Abbey and slept in the room next the clock; and she told old Joe that one night when she was lying in bed, she saw a lady in white come out of the wall on one side of the room, and go into the wall on the opposite side!

B(to self: why do these voluptuous spectres not favour me!?): Enough of such credulous nonsense - girls, the hall awaits (points, helpfully)

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The girls gingerly eke along the walls - Bob comes running in

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Bob: My Lord!

B: Yes, Bob - do you require more spoons?

Bob: The yellow-tailed Fletchers have hightailed it home - the ghastly goblin friar! - he - he - they saw him walking over the lake! 

B: The goblin friar? - nonsense, Bob - 'twould be sacrilege e'en for one in hell to blaspheme in such an imitative fashion

J: I have seen him in the scullery - my lord, his appearance portends some impending evil to the master of the mansion

B: How could matters - vis-à-vis myself - possibly get any worse, Joe? - Bob, back to the fish pond!

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Joe restrains himself - Bob sulks out

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B: Nanny, we shall tackle the pantry - I require an egg 

N: Yes, my Lord​​

J(is bursting): My lord - girls - Nanny - run - run for your lives!

B: My egg needs two minutes on the boil, Joe

J: When we came in I heard footsteps and hoofs, my Lord - clattering down the cloisters to your study - I found the door locked, and then, on one side of the door, I saw the stone coffin with the skull and bones that had been digged up in the cloisters (cowers) - its lid (cowers further) - half come off - a leg dangling casually over the side - and the skull whistling a country air!

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The girls run shrieking - Nanny and Joe run to the chapel - B ponders, naps

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​Scene 4

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Sunset - Hanson is announced

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H: I see you have not yet packed, Byron - are you to leave the few chattels which remain to Newstead's new owner?

B: Pray, Mr. Hanson, do sit

H: I have a banquet in honour of the Monarch to attend to at Cheltenham, my Lord, make it quick

B: Newstead, for the moment, shall not be going under the hammer at Garroways or any other multi-purpose public house...

H: What the devil?

B: Indeed, Hanson - that very gentleman has provided a solution to our current difficulties

H: Do you mean to borrow from Mealey, your corrupt estate manager?

B(to self: balls and botheration!! - why do I never think of these things!): Nay - please do sit - oops, I have but one candle left - such is the honesty of my poverty - if only I could call down some efflourescent acquaintances of mine to light the room (claps hands)

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Suddenly, shadows and moanings and scrapings and blasts of cold air swirl around the library

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H: Sweet mother of divine, Byron - would you close that blasted window!

B: There is no window open, my friend

H: Thaddy, is your digestion troubling you?

T: Nay, Mr...arrggghhh! (points) - 'tis - 'tis - a lady in white just walked through that wall yonder!

H: Have you been at my brandy! I'll have you transported ye theiving.. (a great big black paw lands on H's shoulder) - go away, you great slobbering hound - I believed Boatswain to be dead, Byron - eeeeekkkkk! - it's  - it's Sir John Byron the Little, he's now seated by the hearth, reading out of a great black-letter book - hogging the meagre fire!

B: Lucy, some holy water if you would - the good stuff, from Rome (splashes said miraculous liquid over his guests) - You see, Hanson, I shall retain Newstead via a fantasical new revenue stream (sits atop Sir John Byron's ghost) - 'tis a current phenomenon just over from Germany - and dashed profitable it is too - we are to open Newstead to Ghost Tours - your continentals are uncommonly fond of the supernatural - werewolves, vampyres, shapeshifting birdmen, bare-fronted hoodwinks, moon-rabbits - and such like

H(laughs): Gads! - well dash my wig and hoist my trowsers!

B: I am vastly serious, Hanson - why not put the friars to work, in lieu of 300 years' bed and board?

N: Pfft! - 'tis but your imagination that has peopled this gloomy and romantic pile with all kinds of shadowy inhabitants (nervously mixes some holy water in his brandy) - Why, I never heard of anything so pagan and outrageous - and the exise men will be at you for their hospitality tax 

B: I will have the goblin friar chase away any such impertients (brings forth pamphlet) - read here, we'll start with an informative confab in the library - something weighty from a history chap late of a fine old university, Scrope perchance - some sheet warming from Lucy and Susan, a night of supernatural horrors, eggs and bacon in the morning - Bedad! - we'll be buying slates and window panes within the week!

H: Blast and bugger your eyes, Byron! - wait until Reverend Becher finds out

B: That wavering clergyman has no authority over phantasms, or German tourists - Call off your parvenus, Hanson - Newstead shall remain with the Byrons! (Lucy claps) - Now, give me your attention - I have composed some verses to accompany the tour:

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But beware! Beware of the Black Friar,

He still retains his sway,
For he is yet the church’s heir,

Whoever may be the lay.
Amundeville is lord by day,

But the monk is lord by night,
Nor wine nor wassail could raise a vassal

To question that friar’s right

 

Thunder cracks - Hanson and Thaddy run out screaming - ​Byron raises a toast to the Gothic knight, the Christian dame, and the Pagan lover, thanking them for their inspiration as he lay dreaming

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END​​​​​​​​​​

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