The August Bank Holiday brings crowds to the picturesque English countryside, but one garden remains curiously untouched by the seasonal cheer. Tucked away behind the ivy-clad walls of an old manor, The Whispering Garden is a place few visit, despite its beauty. The flowers bloom vibrantly, and the grass is lush, but there’s something unsettling about the stillness that hangs in the air.

Legend has it that this garden once belonged to Lady Eleanor, a woman whose tragic fate was sealed on a summer’s day long ago. Lady Eleanor, known for her love of nature and her obsession with flowers, was found lifeless in this very garden, a single rose clutched in her hand. Some say she never left. Her soul is believed to be bound to the garden’s fragrant blossoms, her whispers carried on the breeze.

On the August Bank Holiday, when the garden is open to the public, visitors often report hearing soft, disembodied voices between the rustling leaves. Some hear their names called faintly, others say they can hear the sounds of footsteps behind them, though no one is there. A sudden, cold draft cuts through the heat of summer, and those who wander too far into the thicket sometimes find themselves lost, only to emerge later with the sensation of something—or someone—still following.

Vacation Tip: Stay near the entrance. The deeper you wander, the louder the whispers get.