Colwick Hall Hotel in Nottingham, steeped in political history and tragic love, is said to be haunted by the ghosts of its past residents — and guests still report chilling encounters today
Mary Ann Musters never truly left Colwick Hall.
In October 1831, political violence crashed through the estate. Rioters, enraged by opposition to the Reform Bill, stormed the home of Sir John Musters. Windows shattered. Fires raged. Chaos took over.
His wife, Mary Ann — once known as Mary Ann Chaworth, the woman who broke Lord Byron’s heart — fled into the rain with her young daughter, hiding in the garden shrubbery while the house was torn apart.
She survived the night. But it broke her. She died four months later, in February 1832 — not from wounds, but from terror.
Today, Colwick Hall stands as a grand country house hotel on the edge of Nottingham. Its manicured lawns and Palladian façade suggest peace.
But inside, the past walks freely — and not every guest leaves with a good night’s sleep.
History of Colwick Hall
Before it hosted weddings and wine tastings, Colwick Hall belonged to the Musters family, who inherited it through the Chaworth line.
Mary Ann Chaworth was the heiress of Annesley Hall and famously the teenage crush of Lord Byron. She married John Musters in 1805, becoming Mary Ann Musters and moving into Colwick Hall — where her story turned tragic.
When Reform Bill riots erupted in Nottingham, Sir John’s politics made him a target. On 10 October 1831, hundreds attacked the hall. Mary Ann fled outside with her daughter Sophia and hid for hours in the cold. The trauma shattered her health. She died on 6 February 1832 at Wiverton Hall.
The house was rebuilt. But its spirit never quite recovered.
Hauntings of Colwick Hall
Many believe Mary Ann still wanders the estate.
Guests often see a pale woman drifting through the east wing, or standing motionless among the trees, as if still watching for the mob. She moves with the sorrow of someone reliving her worst moment, again and again.
Sometimes she appears younger — elegant, distant, scented faintly with lavender. Guests catch fleeting glimpses of her on staircases and in mirrors. She never speaks. She never lingers.
Whether she’s the hopeful girl Byron once loved, or the terrified wife who hid from rioters in her own garden, both versions seem to remain here — trapped in memory.
The attic unnerves even seasoned staff. Visitors complain of headaches, dizziness, and the crushing sense of being watched. Most people don’t go up without a reason. Some won’t go at all.
In the old servants’ quarters, sounds echo late at night — children laughing, footsteps running, voices calling through empty corridors. One guest awoke to a sharp poke in the ribs. Alone in the room — until they weren’t.
Then there’s the Lady of the Lake.
She’s said to walk the water’s edge at dawn and dusk. One hotel worker spotted her outside just before sunrise — pale, still, and staring. Security footage later showed nothing. No figure. No trace. Just empty lawn and a lingering chill.
Visiting Colwick Hall
Colwick Hall Hotel is now a luxury retreat. Crystal chandeliers, sweeping views, stately rooms. But ask the long-serving staff, and they’ll admit the stories aren’t all marketing.
Yes, they’ve seen things. Yes, some guests have left early.
You won’t find ghost tours here. The management keeps it low-key. But the stories persist.
Some guests report voices in the night. Others see shadows moving where no one stands. One bride refused to sleep in the bridal suite after spotting someone sitting silently at the end of the bed — someone who vanished when she moved.
Just beyond the hotel lies Colwick Woods, a place with its own dark legend. In 1844, William Saville murdered his children there. He was hanged. But their ghosts — some say — never moved on. Their cries still echo beneath the trees.
And those hooves you hear at night? Maybe from the racecourse. Maybe not.
Have you experienced anything eerie during a stay at Colwick Hall? Share your story in the comments below!
