The White Lady

In the ancient embrace of Dartington Hall, where South Devon’s timeless stones guard secrets of nobility, betrayal, and loss, the White Lady lingers as a spectral omen, her ghostly presence tied to the Champernowne bloodline. Unlike vengeful spirits, she appears not to haunt but to warn, her ethereal figure in flowing white emerging three weeks before death claims her kin, her silent gaze a harbinger of sorrow. From a maid’s terror in 1890 to a dream in distant India and a nurse’s chilling sighting in 1935, her legend wove fear and reverence through the estate’s corridors, fading only with the last of the family’s line, yet whispers persist that she waits, bound to the Hall, ready to herald death’s approach for those who inherit its legacy.