Overlooking the windswept coast of County Antrim, Ballygally Castle is a striking 17th-century stronghold with a rich and haunting past. Built in 1625 by Scottish settler Lord James Shaw, the castle stands on land granted to him by Randal MacDonnell, 1st Earl of Antrim, during the turbulent Plantation of Ulster. It was designed as both a family residence and a defensible structure—complete with thick stone walls, corner turrets, and a battlemented parapet, capable of withstanding attacks from native Irish forces.

The Shaw family lived at Ballygally Castle for generations, until William Shaw sold the estate in 1799. After passing through various owners, the property was purchased in the 1950s by Cyril Lord, a British carpet magnate. He restored and expanded the castle, transforming it into the boutique hotel that welcomes guests today. Now operating as a four-star hotel, Ballygally Castle offers 54 characterful rooms, and is a favourite for weddings and coastal escapes.

The most enduring legend tied to Ballygally is that of Lady Isabella Shaw, said to be the wife of the castle’s original owner. While her name doesn’t appear in historical records, her story has become inseparable from the building’s haunted identity. According to legend, Isabella gave birth to a daughter—an event that infuriated Lord Shaw, who had been hoping for a male heir. The tales vary, but all end in tragedy. In one version, he takes the baby away and locks Isabella in the turret. Desperate to escape, she either falls or leaps from the window to her death. In another, Lord Shaw suspects the child isn’t his and has Isabella thrown from the tower.

Whether it was suicide or murder, the truth was allegedly covered up to preserve the family’s reputation. But Isabella’s ghost is said to have never moved on.

Today, the turret is known as The Ghost Room, preserved in Isabella’s memory. Guests are welcome to visit it—and many have reported strange experiences.

In 1998, BBC Radio Ulster journalist Kim Lenaghan visited the room with a psychic medium for a Halloween segment. They reported a sudden temperature increase, the strong scent of musty vanilla, and the presence of a distressed young woman searching for her child. The medium claimed Isabella was being held against her will by an older female spirit, and that she was anxiously waiting for someone named Robert to rescue her from the sea. Kim attempted to spend the night in the room, but at 3 a.m., after another wave of heat and a more intense vanilla scent, she fled to the other end of the hotel—shaken, but unharmed.

In the early 2000s, a film crew experienced temperature fluctuations and unexplained battery drainage. In 2013, a journalist claimed to see a woman in period dress staring at her from a mirror. And in 2016, a team using a ghost box—a device that scans radio frequencies to allow spirit communication—claimed to hear voices, including a child and several men speaking in Gaelic. One team member even said they felt someone sit on the bed beside them—though no one was visible.

Some believe that the widespread fame of Isabella’s story may now influence guest experiences. But others argue that the consistency of these accounts across decades points to something more.

Lady Isabella may be the most famous spirit at Ballygally Castle, but she’s not the only one. Another ghost, Madame Nixon, is thought to have been a relative of the Shaw family. After her husband’s death, she returned to Ballygally and lived there until her passing in 1789. Guests have reported the swish of a silk dress in the hallways, and the faint scent of perfume lingering in the air.

A playful child spirit has also been reported. Guests have heard laughter and the sound of small feet running through empty rooms. One man claimed to feel a small hand touch his back while sleeping—only to remember he had come to the hotel alone. In fright, he ran to reception in just his underwear, much to the staff’s surprise.

Located in the castle’s corner turret is the 1625 Room, an event space often used for intimate gatherings. In 2003, when it was still known as the Dungeon Room, hotel manager Olga had it set up for a private dinner. The table was perfectly arranged, and the door locked to preserve the layout. When she returned, the glasses were strangely rearranged into a circle, all covered in an odd residue. The napkins had been unfolded. Though a sceptic, Olga was unable to explain what had happened.