The New Lowndes Arms in Buckinghamshire hides a chilling side that keep paranormal investigators coming back, says Ghostly Gathering’s EMMA SAUNDERS
The New Lowndes Arms is a lovely old pub and B&B in Whaddon, Buckinghamshire. It’s the sort of place you might stop in for a Sunday roast.
It sits in the heart of the village, opposite the cricket pitch, with wooden beams, a log fire, and the kind of atmosphere you expect from a country pub that has served locals for generations.
But from my very first walk-round in 2019, I knew there was more to it than beer and beds.
When I asked the landlady if she had experienced anything unusual, she didn’t hesitate. She said the scariest moment came when she was changing beds in the B&B room.
Without warning, the door of the ensuite bathroom began rattling violently. At the same time, she heard a loud, inhuman scream. She described it as a devil’s cry.
Her daughter, who was helping her, fled with her to find her son, but by the time they returned, it had stopped.
Looking into it afterwards, I learned the site had once been farmland, likely used for keeping pigs. I believe the noise was the sound of a pig being slaughtered.
The landlady said it was as though something was desperately trying to get out – maybe holding the handle, maybe pushing at the bottom like a pig with its snout – but the door was shaking fiercely.
The Devil appears at New Lowndes Arms
That same night, in the same room, the word “Devil” appeared on the Ouija board.
A friend of mine, who was running the session, had little experience in paranormal work. When she saw it begin to spell devil, she stopped and came to find me.
I performed a protection prayer and closed the session. Afterwards, they resumed without further incident. Whether the two events were connected, I cannot say.
That was my introduction to the New Lowndes Arms – and I have returned twice since.
In October 2024, a cat ball at the bottom of the stairs lit up in direct response to questions. We also heard tapping noises coming from the kitchen when it was empty.
It was one of those nights where you could feel the building watching you – not in a threatening way, but aware you were exploring.
Then in February 2025, things took a more personal turn. We were upstairs in the main hall, waiting for dinner, when I reached to scratch my neck.
My necklace breaks mysteriously
My hematite necklace, which I always wear for protection, was hanging lower down, away from my hand. Without warning, it broke and shattered across the floor.
I have never had that happen before or since. The clasp had completely come apart, yet I had not touched it.
Later that night, during a Ouija board session in the cellar, the planchette fixated on an image of a necklace printed on the board. Make of that what you will.
The pub has its regulars – both living and otherwise.
There is talk of a man who once sat on the green sofa in the corner, seen by several people. The landlady’s daughter once went to serve him, only for him to vanish.
Others speak of a grey lady who sits by the fireplace.
On my first event here, we placed REM pods and EMF meters around that spot, and they lit up as soon as the night began.
The New Lowndes Arms has been part of Whaddon’s life for more than a century.
Pubs like this have seen everything – farmers, soldiers, families, celebrations, fights – and I believe the walls hold on to those memories.
Some nights you are warmly welcomed. On others, it feels like you have walked into someone else’s living room uninvited.
For me, the most striking moment remains that first visit – the violent rattling of the bathroom door and that unearthly scream.
It set the tone for everything that followed. Every time I return, the building finds a new way to remind me it is very much alive.
Have you experienced anything strange at the New Lowndes Arms? Share your story in the comments.
