The Skirrid Inn

Beneath the slopes of Skirrid Fawr near Abergavenny stands a Welsh pub with a staircase that has acquired a rather unpleasant reputation. The Skirrid Mountain Inn is traditionally said to have served as both an inn and a courthouse, with condemned prisoners hanged from an oak beam above the stairwell. According to the most famous version of the story, more than 180 people died here. A noose still hangs beside the stairs today, and grooves in the old timber are pointed out as marks left by execution ropes. Whether all those people actually swung from this particular beam is considerably harder to prove.

The Skirrid is frequently described as the oldest pub in Wales, with a history supposedly stretching back to around 1110. That claim has been repeated for generations, but the building itself tells a slightly different story. Archaeological and architectural assessments indicate that most of the present inn dates from the mid to late 17th century, with substantial alterations during the 19th century. There may have been an earlier inn on or near the site – it stood on an old route used by travellers and pilgrims heading towards Llanthony Priory – but firm evidence for a pub operating here in 1110 has proved frustratingly elusive. The Skirrid is unquestionably old. Exactly how old is where history starts turning into folklore.

The execution story is equally difficult to untangle. Local tradition says the first floor once functioned as a courtroom, while a small room beside the stairs was used to hold prisoners awaiting judgement. Those sentenced to death were supposedly taken to the stairwell and hanged from the heavy oak beam above it, their bodies dropping into the space below. Sheep stealing is repeatedly mentioned among the crimes that could end badly here, and the figure of more than 180 executions has become inseparable from the pub's identity.

There is no surviving record proving that 180 people were executed inside the inn, however, and historians have been unable to substantiate many of the individual stories attached to the supposed gallows. That does not stop the beam from being one of the first things people look for. It still crosses the stairwell, while a hanging noose is displayed nearby as a reminder of the old story. The alleged rope grooves in the wood have been inspected, photographed and retold so many times that the staircase has effectively become the centrepiece of the Skirrid legend.

The most famous name attached to those executions is George Jeffreys, the notorious 17th-century judge remembered as the “Hanging Judge”. Jeffreys earned his reputation largely through the Bloody Assizes of 1685, the brutal trials that followed the failed Monmouth Rebellion against King James II. Hundreds of rebels were sentenced to death or transportation. According to Skirrid folklore, Jeffreys also presided over trials inside the inn and sent prisoners to the noose above its staircase.

It is a wonderful addition to an already grim story, but there is a problem: no documentary evidence has been found showing that Jeffreys ever sat in judgement at the Skirrid. His legal career certainly took him through parts of Wales, and the present building dates from roughly the right century, but that is not quite the same thing. The Hanging Judge may haunt the stories of the pub more reliably than he ever visited it in life.

Another famous visitor is equally difficult to pin down. Welsh rebel Owain Glyndŵr is said to have gathered supporters in the cobbled courtyard during his uprising against Henry IV in the early 15th century. A mounting stone outside the inn has even become associated with him. Once again, it is an excellent story with very little surviving evidence. After several centuries, the Skirrid has accumulated the sort of history where almost every old piece of timber seems to know somebody famous.

The ghosts are more numerous still. The spirits of executed prisoners are blamed for footsteps, voices, moving objects and sudden feelings of pressure around the throat. Some visitors claim to have experienced the sensation of an invisible noose tightening around their neck while standing near the staircase. Others report cold spots, shadowy figures and glasses apparently moving or falling without being touched. None of this can be demonstrated as paranormal activity, of course, but the stories have been repeated often enough to make the Skirrid one of Wales's best-known ghost-hunting locations.

One ghost even comes with a name and a considerably gentler reputation. Fanny Price, a former landlady associated with the inn during the 19th century, is said to remain in the upstairs rooms. Her presence is traditionally announced not by screaming or flying furniture but by the sudden smell of lavender. Stories describe her appearing near beds or moving quietly through the building, apparently still keeping an eye on the place long after her death. Her grave can be found nearby in the churchyard at St Michael's.

The Skirrid has another supernatural tradition that is rather harder to explain to someone simply looking for a pint. Above the fireplace sits a small vessel known as the pwca cup. According to local custom, it is filled each night and left as an offering intended to keep troublesome supernatural forces – sometimes specifically the Devil – satisfied and away from the household. Whether the Devil has actually been accepting the hospitality is unknown, but the tradition continues. For a pub already claiming a gallows and several ghosts, leaving him a drink probably seems like a reasonable precaution.

The building's reputation has inevitably attracted television crews. The Skirrid has appeared in paranormal programmes including Most Haunted and Extreme Ghost Stories, helping spread its hanging and haunting legends well beyond Wales. Organised paranormal investigations are still held inside the building, and it remains possible to stay overnight. That means anyone sufficiently curious can sleep above the same staircase where generations of stories insist condemned prisoners once spent their final moments.

For all the legends, the most interesting thing about the Skirrid may be how difficult it has become to separate the building from the stories told about it. We can confidently say that it is an old, Grade II-listed Welsh inn whose present fabric largely dates from the 17th century. After that, things become murkier. The courtroom, the 180 hangings, Judge Jeffreys and even the earliest date all sit somewhere between local tradition and documented history.