A closer look at Sheffield Central Library, part 2 (by Mike Kazybrid)

In the first installment of my findings about Sheffield Central Library (read about it here), I mentioned that the library opened in July 1934. When I visited with Wooders, I was taken aback by so much that obviously remained of the original: the oak and walnut library furniture with its custom designed wooden shelves and fittings, not to mention the beautiful art deco lights that greeted us in the foyer.

After we had left the ladies loo - (er, you do remember that Wooders and I were only in there to check out one of the many ghost stories ... don't you?) - we wandered beneath ground to the area I was looking forward to most, namely the Stacks.

It's a wonderful maze, consisting of what appears to be miles of shelving, two book lifts and a chute which is used to transport books from the Stacks to the main library. Six strong rooms protect the rare and old valuable books, anything from world-renowned volumes on patents to detailed tomes on metallurgy. White lines can be seen leading to the strong rooms so that if there is a fire, the valuable books can be quickly removed.

It was in this area that yet another paranormal appearance took place, but nothing in Victorian garb. The strange dark mass which appeared to librarian Eunice somehow contained light and energy, but didn't give the same sense of welcome that the other spectral visitors seemed to offer.

Another ghostly encounter moved me to dig more deeply into its possible origins. As already mentioned. Eunice and another staff member recalled that they were working in the main reception area when they were suddenly interrupted by a voice clearly calling to them by name. Having quickly established that one hadn't called the other and that they were equally alone, a sudden strong and wonderful scent of flowers seemed to fill the room.

Attempting to locate the source of the beautiful odour, Eunice had checked outside the doors, but that revealed nothing. All that continued to remain was the smell of a bouquet of flowers which could not be readily named.

‘The game's afoot, Wooders old chum!’ said I when we recounted this story to each other after our library visit.

We realised that following this up required a different approach to our normal methods. Wooders agreed that our usual equipment - consisiting of a wind-up torch, variety packs of crisps, various choccie bars and a well-chewed biro - would not suffice. I was just grateful it was winter so I wouldn’t have to endure my hay fever!

Having knocked on the doors of various companies and individuals, seeking information on popular flowers of the Victorian period, that veritable wizard of floristry, Shaun Lawrence, kindly mentioned that primroses or violas would be popular in spring through early summer, and possibly lavender later in the summer.

If you remember, the site of Sheffield Central Library used to be home to a thriving music hall. Imagine in the grand old music hall days a lady in Victorian dress about to leave, following a wonderful evening of entertainment. To complete the evening, her husband rushes to purchase a bouquet from the young girl selling flowers outside.

Could the good folks at Sheffield Central library have caught a glimpse of past events? Could the barrier between then and now somehow have weakened in the vicinity of the library? Do the people from the past somehow glimpse the people from now, and vice versa?

I was both pleased and grateful when leading parapsychologist, Rosemary Breen in Australia, offered encouragement and advice. She was introducing us to the subject of clairalience ('clear smelling') which is the alleged phenomenon of sensitive people smelling the odour of a person not on the same plane as ourselves. This could cover items such as tobacco, food and flowers. Some even profess to smell the places where the deceased person worked - ie, a factory, the docks or a mill.

(For more on Rosemary Breen, visit her here.)

The spectral visitors at Sheffield Central Library somehow break the rules: ghosts that appear during the daytime; ghosts that seek to interact. Whatever their reason, it doesn't really matter. Their presence only adds to what is truly a beautiful building with a depth of history freely offered to the city of Sheffield.

But how will Wooders and I feel when left alone in the Stacks with only a Twix and a wind-up torch between us? For that, you'll have to wait for the next part of our library adventure…