A lady ghost and making a home for bats

According to the former butler at Wandlebury, there used to be a lady ghost whose tap-tapping footsteps could be heard. People and animals at Wandlebury sometimes feel as if she has touched them on their shoulder, near to the sundial. Bill sets about converting the old drain and ruins into a safe place for the resident bats.

Pipistrelle bat in flight. Photo Barracuda1983 / CC BY-SA

Extract from readings by Chris Thomas of Route and Branch, Bill Clark's autobiography of his time as warden at Wandlebury. Full podcast can be heard here: https://archive.org/download/a-home-for-bats/Ch7f-A-home-for%20bats.mp3

...in the summer, by the sundial, I saw a lady jump as if startled. And when I asked, ‘why,’ she said she had felt a hand on her shoulder. Twice more during the autumn I observed kindred instances, and got similar answers. I mentioned this to the retired Butler, Fred Reynolds, who had roamed the rooms for many years. ‘Well I never,’ he said, ‘so she is still there.’ He then related that on various occasions he had heard ladylike footsteps pacing with him down the hall, close to where the sundial now stands, but each time, before he could light a candle to race down to the cellars, and catch the maid he was convinced was tap-tapping along the ceiling beneath him, all would be quiet. Then in the 1930s an electric generator was installed: ‘On the very first evening the power was switched on, I heard the footsteps,’ he recalled. ‘Switching on the lights I dashed down, but as I ran I realised the tapping was now above me: so, there are two jokers I thought. Bursting back up into the hallway at the far end, I was just in time for the footsteps to pass me by and through the next closed door. I never told anyone, it would only have upset some of the servants: but it did make the hairs stand on the back of my neck.’ ...

...I got in touch with Bob Stebbings of the Institute of Terrestrial Ecology – a bat expert based at Monks Wood – he was so keen he travelled over to see for himself. Upon entering the tunnel he became even more enthusiastic, pointing out open joints in the brickwork with dark greasy edges, saying, ‘Bats have been using this tunnel for years!’ I was able to tell him, that a former resident had confided that as a child he had often crawled in through a hole in the bank, before it was blocked off in the 1960s.
We also looked at Jarratts Cottage – I had found five long-eared bats behind some sacks in the tiny cellar. In imminent danger of collapsing and taking the corner of the house with it too, it had been condemned by the architect, whilst I, a keen beer and wine maker, looked on it as a very desirable part of the house, and had given my ideas for putting it to rights. Bob thought I should start work the moment the bats left in the spring! I asked if he could send me a letter of recommendation to put before the Committee, and I would also like to know what temperature and humidity the bats preferred during hibernation. He said, he knew of no such research on the subject, then with a laugh, said, ‘What an opportunity for you!’
During the following months, whenever I had spare cash – from my own pocket – I bought a Min-Max thermometer, spacing them along the tunnel to take readings.