Old Joe's Ghost and His Fellow Spectres.

An apparition of a man in Victorian dress has been seen sitting by himself in the empty hall. Could he have had such a good time that he is still waiting for an encore?

This ghostly figure was once approached by a member of staff, only to vanish in front of their very eyes.

There are a couple of Town Hall ghosts we can actually put names to. John Heap and William Badger were stonemasons who were working on the construction of the building in 1833. Health and safety wasn't much of an issue in those days and tragic accidents were commonplace.

The unfortunate Mr Heap and Mr Badger were squashed by a massive piece of masonry and their remains buried in St. Philips Churchyard (a memorial erected by fellow workmen, can still be seen in the cathedral grounds).

Staff working late at night, claim to have heard the two men chipping away at the hall's pillars. Lights have been seen to be switched on and off and eerie shadows have been witnessed in empty corridors.

Modern workmen have felt a strong sense of being watched. Could their ghostly forebears, Mr Heap and Mr Badger, be closely observing their modern day counterparts?

Just next door stands another grand old Brummie building, the Council House. In late Victorian times this was the second home to one of the city's most influential figures. Joseph Chamberlain was mayor three times in the 1870's and worked tirelessly on behalf of Birmingham and its citizens (many of whom lived in poverty which Chamberlain did a great deal to alleviate).

He cleared slum areas and had better houses built for the city's workers. "Brummagem Joe" presided over a much admired programme of social reform and greatly improved the condition of the city's poor.

For this he was held in great esteem and news of his death, in 1914, was received with great sadness. However, for some Brummies at least, this would not be the last time the monocled figure of Joe Chamberlain was to be seen.

Over the years, many council workers claim to have seen his ghost walking the corridors and sometimes standing behind his old wooden desk. As with most apparitions, as soon as he is seen he vanishes into thin air.

I think it's a comforting notion that this great Victorian benefactor is still keeping a watchful eye over the city he loved.

Some Council House staff have also claimed to have witnessed a shadowy monk wandering around the corridors, apparently looking for something. The spectral hooded figures of monks are regularly seen in all sorts of haunted locations. Is it because they led such spiritual lives?

The Council House monk seems to be present because the land was once owned by a monastery. A fellow researcher has found out that this land was once home to a large population of rabbits. The monk is probably looking for a nice plump rabbit to pop into a stewing pot.

On a sadder note the Council House may also be haunted by a poor soul who decided to commit suicide there, however I have not been able to find out much about this.

In Centenary Square we have the sturdy looking Baskerville House which, I understand, is soon to be turned into a hotel. Let's hope that its future guests are not too scared of ghosts!

The building dates from 1939 and was constructed on the former estate of Birmingham entrepreneur John Baskerville. He is most famous for his pioneering work in printing and publishing - he became a very wealthy man.

When he died in 1775, he insisted on being buried in his garden, rather than a churchyard, because he was an atheist (a rather shocking point of view in the 18th century).

However, his mortal remains were never properly laid to rest. When the canal system was being constructed he was dug up, and because his body was found to be in such good condition, he was put on display for the curious public to gawp at.

When they decided to rebury him they could not find a church that would have a man who did not believe in God. He was unceremoniously carted around for several years until finally being buried in Warstone Lane cemetery. If his ghost haunts present day Baskerville House, I should think he is not in a very good mood.

In 1791 Baskerville's old house was taken over by John Ryland, another leading figure of Birmingham's growing band of forward thinking entrepreneurs. Unfortunately, Ryland was not to enjoy the comforts of his new home for very long.

In July of that year Birmingham was hit by a wave of riots, which saw buildings burnt and looted.

Religious differences were at the core of all this trouble, though it does seem that many of the rioters were more concerned with looting properties.

Wealthy John Ryland was a prime target and the mob smashed their way into his house. Three of the rioters made their way to the wine cellar, where they enthusiastically set about sampling the plentiful supply of cognac.

In their drunken stupor they failed to realise that their friends upstairs had set the house on fire. All three perished in the blaze.

Council employees working in the modern Baskerville House have often experienced a strange, creepy atmosphere in the building's basement.

Some claim to have seen three inexplicable shadows suddenly appearing and disappearing.

The ghosts of long dead, drunken rioters?