Sheets, spectres and spirits: Adam Wood creates a hauntingly good Halloween

Halloween Horror by Adam Wood at the Albany Theatre, 31 October.

Review by Amanda Burden

The clocks have turned back, the nights are drawing in…it seems hardwired into human DNA to muse on stories of the season: unwelcome presences haunting houses; gaunt, cadaverous men shambling aimlessly, arms outstretched; poisonous smells of sulphur that inexplicably come and go. But enough about my brother at our family Christmas get-together. This week I went to see storyteller Adam Wood spinning true-life yarns of Coventry’s ghouls and phantoms for Halloween.

Drawing from the pages of 18th and 19th century newspapers, Wood brought the city’s long forgotten hauntings back to life, from spectral cows on Whitley Common to the spirit of Lady Hale pointing ominously at workhouse inmates not long for this world. Each story was delivered with the relish of a true local history buff and ghost story aficionado, combining humour and atmosphere to chilling effect.

The audience sat enthralled as Wood related tales of hauntings of local landmarks such as the long-since demolished Bedworth Manor, home to two spectral children murdered by a grasping relative eager for an inheritance, and the still-standing Nailcote Hall, plagued through the centuries by mysterious antisocial presences whose unearthly shrieks and yelps unsettle residents and guests alike. The last time I visited Nailcote Hall was two years ago when dropping off my son at his Year 12 prom, and I can confirm little has changed in the last 200 years, except the visitors are now a bit less unearthly, sporting mullets and skin fades and arriving in G Wagons.

Other creepy stories included a grisly murder at a barn in Keresley, when a failed suitor was hanged in cold blood by his rival. The legend of his ghost was revived years later by an entrepreneurial farm-owner who restarted the rumours to attract paying visitors to fund a new village hall. This money-spinner continued profitably until a former resident wrote in to the newspaper to firmly scotch the story, asserting confidently that there were no ghosts but that she supported the charity. What a laugh a minute she must have been. Wood did not confirm if the village hall was ever built.

What struck me most was how often people of the last century donned bedsheets at night with the sole purpose of frightening passersby in St Michael’s graveyard (now Coventry Cathedral). Partakers in this popular entertainment ran the gauntlet of potential attack – and even the odd shooting – by the 18th century answers to ghost hunting podcaster Danny Robins. Simpler times, I suppose. No TikTok.

All in all, this was a captivating snapshot of local legend and folklore, perfect for chilly autumn nights. Wood shows that ghost stories, like fine wine and brandy, improve with age. That said, I’ll still take some convincing about the existence of the otherworld. I favour spirits firmly sealed in bottles. Until the weekend, when I release them, mix them with tonic and ice, and allow them to wreak havoc to their hearts’ content.

Discover more at the Albany Theatre:  https://www.albanytheatre.co.uk/