Lady Anne Russell Steps into Bath’s Shadows
As the nights draw in and Halloween approaches, our Roving Reporter muses on an atmospheric trio of Gothic tours she attended with Strictly Jane Austen Tours
In the dark months of 2026, I was delighted to have joined three different family groups on Strictly Jane Austen Tours’ bespoke Gothic Twilight Walking Tours of Bath. All the guests were American, mainly based in Washington DC or Chicago, with family members of wildly-differing ages. There was the ‘Big Group’ comprising grandparents, parents and sister with two young boys; the ‘Small Group’ of parents and their three 20-ish offspring and the ‘Tiny Group’ of US-based parents and their stylish 30-something son now happily established in France. They were all unconsciously united, though, in numerous shared things: lively, enquiring minds; a knowledgeable acquaintance with Jane Austen and the ‘Bath Books’; a fascinated interest in the Gothic and local ghosts, and the need to know more about Mary Shelley/Frankenstein and other writers.
We met, fittingly for a Gothic tour, outside The House of Frankenstein, with its clear exposition of Mary Shelley’s eventful life and her creation of The Creature; the collection of monster memorabilia and scary basement Escape Rooms were much enjoyed by younger guests! Our guide soon appeared and led us to The Gravel Walk. En route, she revealed that Mary Shelley never actually stayed in ‘The House’ and debunked the insistent myth that Shelley wrote Frankenstein (published in 1818) in the course of a single night at the Villa Diodati, on the shores of Lake Geneva, where she, Byron, his pregnant lover Claire Claremont, Percy Bysshe Shelley and the physician Polidori, were distracting themselves during a violent thunderstorm. This legend seems to have grown via Kenneth Branagh’s 1994 film Gothic. A more measured account based on archival research appears in Derek Marlowe’s excellent 1969 ‘factional novel’ A Single Summer with LB which clarifies that Villa Diodati was the place where, in summer 1816, Mary Shelley’s ideas took root.
Jane Austen and Mary Shelley could never have met, or even been aware of each other, although it is interesting that they led almost-parallel lives with their family backgrounds and liberal education. Both were aware of radical ideas and opposed expected conduct for female behaviour and education. They also shared thematic connections, influenced perhaps by Mary Shelley’s mother, Mary Wollstonecraft’s, seminal work, A Vindication of the Rights of Woman (1792).
Jane is likely to have been aware of Wollstonecraft’s book since she had free access to her father’s library and belonged to circulating libraries where she was able to read a huge variety of works, including many that were considered inappropriate. She was also familiar with the late eighteenth-century trend for Gothic ‘penny dreadfuls’ which she satirised in Northanger Abbey, with a tragi-comic consequences for Catherine Morland.
I was touched to see that, while our guide spoke, the two exquisitely-polite young men of the ‘Big Group’ were happily collecting unfamiliar fallen leaves and berries which they presented to her, grinning when she identified them. Their eyes widened, too, as the guide pointed out The Gravel Walk’s proximity to an ancient duelling ground and its reputation as ‘the most haunted outdoor space in Bath’. She shared the spine-chilling story of the apparently-wealthy Regency gentleman who is often, at dusk, seen emerging from a Gay Street garden, white hair protruding from a tricorn hat, before calmly crossing the Walk and then descending – via steps bordered by an elegant iron rail – to the duelling ground below.
Our guide had also witnessed an inexplicable (and unrelated) incident during a 2012 dress rehearsal for a one-off ‘Etiquette of The Duel’ Walk, co-authored with ‘Colonel Brandon’, which had so unnerved her that she promptly fled home to Alfred Street, itself beset by ghosts and legends, including the much-documented appearances of Admiral Arthur Philip, First Governor of New South Wales.
This twilight rehearsal included ‘Colonel Brandon’ – The Narrator – and five costumed actors playing the parts of the duellists (The Challenger and The Challenged), their Seconds (who agree the weapons and paces to be taken) and a doctor in case of injury. It involved an argument outside The Assembly Rooms and a re-enactment of the consequent ‘appointment’ for which the duellists were armed with pistols and ram rods, for packing down the powder, wadding and bullet. These rods were rivetted to the, otherwise convincing, pretend pistols and could not be removed. The duellists stood back-to-back before taking ten paces in opposite directions and – at an agreed signal – turned to fire. “Our stage manager had suddenly shouted What the Hell was that?” our guide explained, “but we had all seen it. The ram rod on The Challenger’s pistol had detached itself and flown over ten yards – a perfect arc – narrowly missing The Challenged. It was impossible and eerie … as if we had somehow released some ancient energy from The Ground. After that, I had the creeps and had to leave.”
We were relieved to reach The Royal Crescent where we learned of the beautiful soprano, Elizabeth Linley’s 1792 elopement from No. 11 with statesman and playwright, Richard Brinsley Sheridan in their rattling carriage – but the chills returned when our guide told us that the carriage is still occasionally heard!
When we reached Margaret’s Buildings on Brock Street, our guide briefly introduced the eccentric, hugely wealthy William Beckford (1760-1844), a knowledgeable collector and connoisseur with an interest in the dramatic and forbidding, as earlier guests have often confused the striking tower of St Stephen’s, Lansdown looming overhead with Beckford’s Tower, which cannot in fact be seen from here. She also showed the parties – to gasps of astonishment – illustrations of Beckford’s sublime, gothic extravaganza, Fonthill Abbey, east of Salisbury, out on the plain.
At The Circus there was much emphasis on John Wood the Elder’s interest in mysticism, myths and legends concerning Prince Bladud, a super-early discoverer of Bath, and tales of ancient Rome on the soil of the city. Later, to the delight of the ‘Small’ and ‘Tiny’ groups, our guide indicated No. 5 Hay Hill, home in the 1970s of the fantasy/Gothic novelist, Angela Carter who probably wrote The Bloody Chamber, there.
Thence it was to chic Milsom Street, built in 1761/62 as a residential quarter and later turned fashionable shopping street. Northanger Abbey’s Catherine Morland might have paid it more attention had she known that Ann Radcliffe, author of the Mysteries of Udolpho (1794) had close connections to it.
Our final stop was Abbey Churchyard where, from September 1816 – January 1817, Mary Shelley stayed in lodging rooms above a bookshop at No. 5. This is where both our guide and I believe Shelley actually wrote Frankenstein, making it a suitably Gothic spot to conclude our tour.
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