Woburn House, near Millisle in County Down, was originally built in 1866 for John Gilmore Dunbar, a prosperous mill owner. After his death, the property was significantly expanded by his nephew and heir, George Orr Dunbar, who remodelled it into the fine Italianate mansion that stood for generations.

But behind its elegant façade lies a much darker legacy.

By the 1970s, Woburn had been repurposed as a reformatory school for young offenders—widely referred to as “The Borstal”—and later became known as the Lisnevin Training School for Prison Officers. During its decades of institutional use, the building developed a strong reputation for paranormal activity. Some claimed that as many as seven different spirits roamed its halls.

While rumours of hauntings could be dismissed as folklore or teenage imagination, several first-hand accounts—and a BBC investigation—suggest something more serious.

One particularly chilling report comes from former Borstal staff member Bob Pugh. He described taking a break in the Tower Room one summer evening when the temperature in the room suddenly dropped. He felt invisible arms lock around his torso, holding him in place. At first, he thought a colleague was playing a prank—until he realised he was completely alone. When he tried to shout for help, a hand clamped over his mouth.

Another incident was reported by a night security officer who witnessed a heavy door slam shut unaided. As he approached, a blast of icy air rushed past him. When he recounted the event, a colleague simply replied:

“Ah—you’ve just met the butler.”

That butler, according to local lore, was a man named Robert Barkley. Old stories claim Barkley had an affair with a maid who became pregnant. Fearing scandal, he is said to have murdered her and disposed of her body via a tunnel beneath the house—casting it into the sea at a place now known as “Barkley Rocks.” Stricken with guilt or fearing exposure, he allegedly took his own life in the Tower Room.

While this tale has been widely told, there’s no formal evidence to support it. Census records from 1901 do confirm the existence of a Robert Barkley listed as a butler—though with no recorded place of employment.

During a BBC investigation into the haunting, psychic medium Marion Goodfellow was brought to the house. Immediately upon entering, she claimed to sense the spirit of a young woman in her early twenties who was “in the well.” She was drawn to a specific spot in a ground floor room and said a sealed well and an old tunnel were located there. A staff member later confirmed the existence of both—long since bricked up during renovations in the building’s institutional era.

In a later outdoor session, Marion reported further contact with the same spirit, who identified herself as Ann. She stated that she had been pregnant and murdered—but not by the butler. According to the medium, Ann insisted her killer was the father of her child, a man who was never employed at Woburn.

A former staff member later told the BBC crew that they had long dismissed the butler story as “local talk.”

If Ann’s version of events is to be believed, then Robert Barkley may have been wrongly accused—his memory stained by legend rather than fact. But that still leaves the greater mystery unanswered:

Who killed Ann? And who—or what—still haunts Woburn House?