Why does Gibraltar remember its ghosts?

By Richard Clements 

Everyone in Gibraltar seems to know the Grey Lady. 

Her story has become part of the folklore of the Rock. Alitea, separated from her lover Silvano, is said to have been forced into a convent. Their attempted escape ended in tragedy. In later tellings, she was walled up alive, her spirit left to wander the building. 

It is a memorable story, but how much can we trace back? 

One of the earliest written versions I have found appears in Major Richard Hort's The Rock, published in 1839. His story The Lost Nun, involving Alitea and Silvano, was one of three fictional tales in the book. It is not quite the Grey Lady story familiar today. Some details seem to have been added later. 

That does not rule out an older oral tradition. Stories can circulate for years before anyone writes them down, changing as they pass from one person to another. 

The setting matters. The Convent has been the official residence of Gibraltar's governors for centuries, but before British rule it was a Franciscan religious house. Despite its name, it was a friary, not a convent of nuns. 

One of the best-known twentieth-century accounts concerns the family of General Sir Kenneth Anderson, Governor after the Second World War. Lady Anderson reportedly saw a woman she took for a nun disappearing into a room. When their daughter and grandchildren were staying, the children spoke of a lady they had been "running through". These were experiences reportedly occurring in the family's home, not during a visit to a historic attraction. 

There is a twist in the older legend. Alitea was supposedly confined in a separate nuns' convent, while Silvano entered the Franciscan house that later became the Governor's residence. Over time, the places seem to have become entwined in the telling. 

Whether Alitea existed as described is difficult to establish. Reports of a female apparition at the Governor's residence belong to the later history of the legend. 

Gibraltar has plenty of other supernatural traditions, including stories associated with the museum and old buildings. Local readers will know others. Rather than catalogue them all, I am interested in why certain places hold on to these stories. 

The military tunnels are one example, with tales of footsteps, voices, music and figures seen underground. 

I have always thought tunnels are good places for stories like these to develop. Sounds behave strangely below ground, and it is not always easy to locate a footstep or a knock. Generations of servicemen worked in Gibraltar's tunnels, and some died there. Knowing that history must influence how an unexpected noise is experienced. 

It does not mean people did not hear what they reported. It leaves open what caused it. 

Old St Bernard's Hospital has its share of stories too, but here the folklore can be set beside something tangible. 

Excavations in 2014 uncovered the remains of 251 people. Juan Mateos established the hospital in 1567, chiefly to treat mariners. It was later run by the Order of San Juan de Dios. 

Scientific study of some remains found varied diets and geographical origins, fitting a hospital serving a busy port. 

We know people died there. Whether any became the figures later generations describe is another question. 

The Moorish Castle has traditions of strange sounds and experiences alongside its history of siege and imprisonment. Its fortifications reach back to the medieval period, and part of the complex remained in use by Gibraltar's prison system until 2010. 

But a violent past does not always produce ghost stories. Some places have witnessed terrible events without acquiring famous hauntings, while quieter buildings gain reputations of their own. 

I find that difference more interesting than simply asking whether a ghost is real. Perhaps what matters is not only what happened, but what later generations chose to remember. 

Looking into these stories, I was struck by how much history Gibraltar contains in such a small area. Moorish fortifications, religious houses, military works, hospitals, prisons and tunnels belong to different periods, yet remain close together. Sometimes the newer was built directly over the older. 

I spend a fair amount of time visiting old places and following stories that do not offer neat answers. I have learned not to be too troubled by that. 

I cannot say what somebody saw in a corridor or heard underground years ago. What interests me is why the story survived. 

Perhaps Gibraltar's ghosts tell us something about the places the living have chosen to remember, and the stories they continue to tell. 

At Halloween we ask whether ghosts might return from the past. On Gibraltar, perhaps the more interesting question is whether the past ever completely went away. 

About the author Richard Clements is a British history writer and independent researcher publishing as The History Alchemist. He writes about unusual and overlooked episodes from the past. Website: www.thehistoryalchemist.com