The History and Hauntings of the Trocadero
Standing at 17 Temple Street, the Trocadero is one of Birmingham’s most visually striking historic buildings — a vivid survivor of the city’s late-Victorian and Edwardian confidence. Its flamboyant exterior of coloured glazed tiles and terracotta immediately sets it apart, reflecting a time when Birmingham embraced architectural boldness as readily as industrial progress.
From Fire Station to City Landmark
The story of the building begins not as a place of leisure, but of urgency and danger. Constructed in 1846, it originally served as the Fire Engine House for the Norwich Union Insurance Company. During a period when Birmingham’s crowded factories and workshops were highly vulnerable to devastating fires, insurance companies operated their own private fire brigades to protect insured properties.
Designed by architects Edge & Avery, the Temple Street station housed fire engines, specialist equipment, and trained firemen ready to respond at a moment’s notice. Traces of this early purpose still survive within the building today, including a circular stained-glass window marking the former position of the firemen’s pole.
The Birth of the Bodega
By the late 19th century, the rise of municipal fire services made private insurance brigades increasingly redundant. In 1883, the former fire station was converted into a wine bar known as the Bodega. This new incarnation quickly became a popular city-centre venue, attracting patrons from Birmingham’s commercial, theatrical, and sporting circles.
The Bodega was run by the charismatic publican Henry Skinner, a larger-than-life figure whose association with the building would later become central to its folklore.
The Edwardian Transformation
In 1902, the premises underwent a dramatic transformation. The previously plain frontage was replaced with the exuberant tiled exterior that defines the building today — a striking example of the Edwardian love for faience and decorative tilework.
Designed by John Windsor Bradburn, with tiles supplied by the renowned firm Maw & Co., the new façade featured rich yellows, greens, and browns, intricate mouldings, and a bold mosaic frieze proudly bearing the name Trocadero. By 1912, the building officially adopted that name, securing its identity as one of Birmingham’s most distinctive public houses.
Art, Identity, and Subculture
Throughout the 20th century, the Trocadero continued to reflect the changing cultural life of the city. Between the 1930s and 1950s, it became an important meeting place for the Birmingham Surrealists, including Conroy Maddox, Emmy Bridgwater, and the Melville brothers. Alongside venues such as the Kardomah Café, the Trocadero hosted discussions, debates, and late-night gatherings that helped sustain one of Britain’s most significant regional avant-garde movements.
In later decades, the pub continued to reinvent itself. During the 1970s and early 1980s, it became one of Birmingham’s earliest gay pubs, offering a rare and vital social space at a time when such venues were few and often precarious. It later developed a reputation as a goth and alternative music bar, drawing successive generations of subcultures into its walls.
The Trocadero Today
Today, the Trocadero remains a Grade II listed public house, its architectural importance formally recognised in 1982. While now operating as a modern city-centre pub serving food, drink, and live sport, the building retains many original features that speak to its layered past.
From fire station to wine bar, from surrealist haunt to subcultural refuge, the Trocadero has continually adapted to the rhythms of Birmingham life — its colourful exterior standing as a silent witness to nearly two centuries of change.
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The Ghosts of the Trocadero
The Trocadero on Temple Street has long been regarded as one of Birmingham’s most haunted public houses. Over the years, staff, residents, and visitors have reported a wide range of unexplained phenomena, much of it centred on the upper floors and the cellar.
Early Experiences
In October 2005, Rose O’Callaghan became landlady of the pub and moved into the flat above with her husband, Kevin. Within weeks, both began experiencing strange and unsettling events.
One evening, while Rose was sitting alone reading historical material relating to the building, she was suddenly overwhelmed by an intense and unnatural cold. The sensation was accompanied by a deep feeling of unease, despite there being no obvious change in temperature or disturbance in the room. Disturbed, she abandoned her reading and went to bed.
On another occasion, Rose was walking along the first-floor corridor linking the office to the kitchen when she became acutely aware of someone behind her. Turning, she saw only her own shadow cast against the office door. Reassured, she continued walking — only for the sensation to return. This time, when she turned, she saw a second shadow beside her own, taller and unmistakably human. No one else was present.
Shadows, Animals, and Disturbance
Similar shadowy figures have since been reported on the upper floors, often seen passing along the corridor outside the bedroom. On one particularly disturbing night, Rose and Kevin were woken by their cat wailing in distress. Kevin got out of bed to investigate and froze as a dark shape moved towards him. Acting on instinct, he struck out — but his fists passed straight through empty air. Moments later, the shadow dispersed and the cat fell silent.
Their dog later displayed similar behaviour, barking at empty spaces and refusing to enter certain areas of the building.
Accidents and Children’s Voices
Physical incidents added to the growing sense that something unseen was at work. On one occasion, Kevin was descending the semi-circular staircase when the banister he was holding suddenly tore away from the wall, sending him tumbling down the remaining steps. He escaped serious injury, and examination showed the fixings had simply pulled free despite no prior signs of weakness.
This incident took on greater significance due to frequent reports of children’s laughter heard on the upper floors — sounds sometimes linked to rumours that two children once died after falling down the stairs.
The Cellar
The cellar is widely regarded as the most unsettling part of the building. Staff have frequently reported hearing doors opening and closing when no one else was present. On one occasion, Rose unlocked the cellar door and descended the stairs, only to hear the door at the top — which she had left propped open — suddenly slam shut. When she returned upstairs, the cellar door closed behind her. This strange back-and-forth has reportedly occurred several times.
Other incidents include people feeling taps on the shoulder as they leave the toilets, gas canister taps being turned off overnight despite the cellar being locked, and glasses being thrown from tables and shelves in the bar area. A dark, human-shaped figure has also been seen moving through the cellar, often accompanied by an intense sensation of cold.
Possible Identities
One of the most prominent figures linked to the hauntings is Henry James Skinner, manager of the premises during its time as the Bodega wine bar. On Thursday 5 December 1895, Skinner was shot and killed in the cellar by a former employee, Herbert Allen, following a dispute over wages. Allen was convicted of murder and sentenced to death, though later records suggest he may have died in prison rather than being executed.
Skinner’s violent death has led many to believe his spirit remains within the building, possibly responsible for the shadowy male figure and physical disturbances. Others suggest Herbert Allen may also be connected, though neither explanation accounts for reports of female apparitions or children.
One female presence is sometimes identified as Sarah Spittle, who lived at numbers 17 and 18 Temple Street in the late 19th century. Census records show her residing there with her sisters and a large household of female servants. After 1882, her name disappears from local directories, and her fate remains unknown.
An Unsettled Past
No definitive explanation exists for the activity reported at the Trocadero. What remains consistent is the number and variety of experiences described over many years — shadows without source, sounds without cause, and physical interactions that leave lasting impressions.
Whether rooted in tragedy, memory, or something more unsettling, the past of the Trocadero continues to make itself felt in the present.
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