50 Berkeley Square, tucked away in London's affluent Mayfair district, has a long and unusual reputation after several unexplainable and seemingly supernatural events took place there.

The house, a Georgian townhouse built in the 18th century, was home to several people, among them a former prime minister, none of whom were reported to have experienced anything out of the ordinary.

In the mid 1800s, however, a man called Thomas Myers moved in and soon after experienced a heartbreak as his engagement came to an end. Something seemed to snap inside Myers and neighbours reported that he began sleeping all day and staying up all night, wandering the halls of the house by the light of a single candle, moving seemingly without aim or purpose.

During this period, Myers allowed the house to fall into a state of disrepair, which only contributed to the house's spooky atmosphere.

After Myers died in 1874, it was said that his spirit still wandered the halls of the house and he could often be sighted roaming by the light of a ghostly candle, perhaps in search of his lost love.

The house's reputation for supernatural phenomena soon grew and more rumours began to spread. Most notable was a spirit said to appear as a spectral brown mist floating in the attic. There were several stories claimed to be the origin of this particular phantom: that it was the spirit of a little girl killed by a cruel servant, that it was the ghost of a man who had been locked in the attic and tortured, and most famously, that it was the spirit of a woman who, desperate to escape an abusive uncle, had thrown herself to her death from the attic window.

Stories of those who encountered the hauntings are numerous. One of the most widely shared involves a man called Robert Warboys, who accepted a challenge to spend a night in the attic room. Warboys was provided with a bell, which he was instructed to ring twice if he needed assistance. Other guests later reported hearing frantic bell-ringing. The following morning, Warboys was discovered dead, apparently having died of fright.

Later, Lord Lyttelton stayed in the house and, intrigued by the supposed haunting, decided to spend the night in the same room in which Robert Warboys had died. Lyttelton, fortunately, survived, though not unscathed as he witnessed a strange apparition, sometimes reported to be a shadowy being with tendrils and later dubbed "The Nameless Thing."

Lyttelton, fearing for his life, had fired on the apparition, but a search the next morning revealed no creature, no body—just a spent shell and a bullet hole in the wall.

Another visitor, Captain Kentfield, also spent the night in the attic room. The household was reportedly awoken in the middle of the night by screams and gunshots and Captain Kentfield was found dead, another victim killed by sheer fear.

Two sailors from the HMS Penelope are said to have also attempted the same challenge, only for one to be found dead the following morning. The surviving sailor later claimed that he had been chased by a ghost through the upper rooms.

In another story, a maid became hysterical after an encounter with an apparition in the house and ultimately died in an asylum.

These stories are extreme and it's not difficult to see how the house built up such a fearsome reputation.

However, since the 1930s, when the building was purchased by Maggs Bros., a London bookselling firm, there have been no credible reports of paranormal activity. Modern investigations have found little to suggest that the house is haunted, but the stories persist, retold in books, forums, and ghost tours.

Of course, details and timelines often vary and this is a prime example of stories evolving in the telling—a surefire sign that 50 Berkeley Square is just the subject of rumours and speculation that has, with time, become increasingly embellished.

But then... You never know. Maybe the Nameless Thing will reappear any day now...