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THE WHITE GHOST BOOK









Photographing a Ghost
form is clearly visible against the “ sitter’s ” clothing
(see page 5)


The
White Ghost Book
BY
‘JESSIE ADELAIDE MIDDLETON
Illustrated with Four Glzosl Pholagrap/2:
and of/zer Plate:
C-ASSELL AND COMPANY, LTD
London, New York, Toronto and Melbourne


First published 1916


BF
M £ !
/“I325
CONTENTS 1*’
PAGE
PHOTOGRAPHING A GHOST . . . . 1
GHOsTs SEEN BY FAMoUs PEOPLE . . 7
GHOSTLY Musxc . . . . . . 24
Stories of Haunted Houses :-
THE HoUsE OF Honnon . . . . 29
THE MARBLE MANTELPIECE . . . 92
THE WHITE LADY or BOLLING HALL . 94
THE HAUNTED H0UsE AT HINDHEAD . 98
THE GHOST WITH THE Ev1L FAcE . . 102
A GHOsT SEEN IN BORROWDALE, CUMBERLAND 105
THE WESLEY GHOST STORY . . . 108
Two SOUTH AFRICAN STORIES . . . 121K
THE GHosT THAT GRINNED . . . 127
THE SEVERED HEAD . . . . 129
A STORY or ST. JAMEs’s SQUARE . . 135
NEL1. GwY'NN’s GHOST—AND OTHER MYS-
TERIOUS VISITORS . . . . 137
THE MATRIMONIAL GHOST. . . . 140
GHOSTLY FOOTSTEPS . . . . . 142

‘I


vi Contents
PAGE
THE GHosT OF EGMONT CAsTLE. . . 144
THE REcToR’s GH0sT . . . . 146
THE GH0sT IN TAv1sTocK PLAcE . . 147
THREE STRANGE STomEs . . . . 149
THE OLD LADY IN BLAcK . . . 152
Two YORKSHIRE STORIES . . . . 154
‘THE HAUNTED HoUsE IN THE SUBUEBs . 158
THE PHANTOM HoUsE . . . . 161
A DIARY OF HAUNTINGS . . . . 168
Stories of Haunted Churches, etc. :—
THE HAUNTED CHURCH AT Yonx . . 203
THE GH0sT 1N THE CHURCH . . . 210
V01cEs FROM THE GEAvEs . . . 211
THE GHosT AT THE WEDDING . . . 213
SPIRITS OF NUNs . . . . . 215
Three Ghosts of the Law Courts and
Two of the Sea :—
THE GHosT OF ANNE WALKER . . 225
THE CAsE OF SERGEANT DAv1Es . . 228
A GHosT CALLED IN COURT AS W1TNEss . 281
THE RED MARK . . . . . 288
LEGENDs OF BOSHAM HARBOUR . . 236
$;.;4’‘g‘',..Iu‘ aA~ -,,..,,‘I,0----....r..-n-.__r_f f A A


Contents vii
PAGE
Dreams, Portents, and Warnings:—
DREAMs—STEANGE, PROPHETIC, AND RECUR-
RENT . . . . . . . 243
THE HORSE or DEATH . . . . 257
SEEN IN THE CRYSTAL . . . . 259
THE THREE ENVELOPES . . . . 264
THE SUICIDE GHosT . . . . . 267
AT A SEANCE . . . . . . 270
IN THE NIGHT . . . . . 271
THE UNBIDDEN GUEsT . . . . 274
SOME STRANGE EXPERIENCES . . . 277
PSYCHIC INFLUENCE ON ANIMALS . . 282
THE UNHAPPY HOUSEMAID . . . 284
Tom) BY A CANON . . . . . 285



|1|!\|0v |l||llil|l4|.|||1|<.|a|


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PHOTOGRAPHING A GHOST . . . Fronlispieoe
A Spirit form is clearly visible against the " sitter’s"
clothing.
FACING PAGE
THE TERRIBLE Mom; . . . . . 32
Reproduced from a ghost photograph, taken in an old West
of England manor house.
W110 IS THE GHOST ? . . . . 80
The room in which Darnley was born at Temple New-
sam. The “ untouched” photograph shows a ghost in
the chair by the fireplace.
TEE SEVERED HEAD . . . . 128
Reproduced from a sketch of the ghostly head seen in .a
certain London theatre.
KNIGHTON GORGES . . . . . 160
Showing the old gateway and the site of the “phantom
house” as viewed from the rookery.
THE MYSTERY or THE RED BARN . . 192
Showing the exterior 0f the barn, and the hole from which
the body of Maria Marten was recovered.
A REMARKABLE GHosT PHOTOGRAPH . . 208
Taken at a farm-house near Acton. The ghost of an
old woman may be seen looking through the window.
THE ASSASSINATION or SPENCER PERcEvAL . 256
As seen by Mr. Williams in a dream, and as he subse-
quently saw it depicted in an engraving-here reproduced.
ix





FOREWORD
HE war has quickened the latent spiritual life of
the nation and aroused new interest in the super-
natural. Many instances of apparitions, prophetic
dreams, and other phenomena have been reported
since the war began, and even those who do not
actually profess to believe, admit that the subject
is peculiarly fascinating.
A few years ago it was considered old-fashioned
and ridiculous to believe in ghosts; now it is old-
fashioned not to believe in them. Every day brings
us fresh proof and well-founded instances. We hear
of marvellous cases of second sight. We are told
that on the field of battle the dead fight with the
living, and that a place is kept for them in the ranks.
People who used to laugh at the mention of anything
occult now allow that “ there must be something
in it, after all.”
In publishing the third of my trilogy of ghost
books, I have to thank the Press and my readers
for much past kindness. I have had letters from
all parts of the world and from all kinds of people,
some with welcome offers of the writers’ own expe-
riences, others giving me additional facts about, or
confirmation of, stories I have already written; others,
again, asking me if I know that such and such a place
is haunted, or that such and such a famous person
xi


xii Foreword
has seen a ghost. All this, coming from strangers,
has helped and encouraged me greatly.
The stories that follow are all well authenticated,
if not all new. Those that bear real names and
addresses—and a number of them do—are of special value, but unfortunately the reluctance to give their ,
real names in print on the part of people I have l
interviewed has compelled me to withhold names in l
some cases. Every writer of ghost stories is faced
with the same difficulty. Fortunately, in the present 1
collection I am allowed to mention real names in ,
connection with some of the most important stories.
I write as a believer and a serious investigator, %
and my chief object is to interest my readers. I lay
no claim to deep, scientific knowledge. I simply Q
collect facts and evidence of all kinds.
My thanks are due to the Editor of the Sporting
and Dramatic News for kind permission to republish
Mr. W. H. Po1lock’s interesting story; and to Mr.
Ralph Shirley, Editor of the Occult Review, for kind permission to include Andrew Merry’s story, and
“ The Phantom House,” which appeared serially in Q
I

that journal ; also to those who have allowed me to
give their names and addresses; to Frank Hamel,
author of “ Human Animals ” ; to Mrs. M. Chester
Ffoulkes; and to many correspondents and in-
terested readers who have kindly written me.
JESSIE A. MIDDLETON

Lennon, 1916
O
r
i-1&1‘


THE WHITE GHOST BOOK
PHOTOGRAPHING A GHOST
I AM well aware that there is a great deal of
fraud in so-called “ spirit photography,” and I
have had in my hands photographs of so-called spirits
—generally standing well behind the figures of those
they are supposed to control—whose obvious art-
muslin draperies (supposed to represent the orthodox
costumes worn by departed spirits) would not de-
ceive anyone but 'a person of weak mind or one
highly susceptible to trickery.
But instances of genuine ghostphotography are
by no means rare, and I have seen several fine
specimens.
On one occasion, when on a. visit to Temple
Newsam, the seat of Lord Halifax, Mr. Fletcher Moss,
of the Old Parsonage, Didsbury, the well-known
President of the Lancashire and Cheshire Antiquarian
Society, had a most interesting experience.
In one of the rooms at Temple Newsam, Lord
.Darnley was born. The room is hung with por-
traits of his wife, Mary Queen of Scots, and of their
son, James I., and contains a wonderful bed and
other beautiful old furniture.
Mr. Fletcher Moss and his companion, whom he
B


2 The White Ghost Book
calls “ X,” took several beautiful photographs of
the interior of the house.
“ We wondered,” he says, “ whether there were
any ghosts behind the hangings, or the pictures, or
the panelling, but they were not likely to show
themselves in broad daylight. One of them seems
to have been watching us, for when X printed the
photograph of the room where Darnley was born,
he was delighted to find he had at last photographed
a ghost without knowing it.
“ There is the face of an old man sitting in the
chair by the fire. Who is it? Darnley and his
father, and his father’s father, his wife (the Queen),
and most of her kindred, all had violent deaths.
Who sits there watching us ? It’s a ghostly room.”
The photograph in question was originally repro-
duced in Mr. Fletcher Moss’s most interesting series,
“ Pilgrimages to Old Homes,” Vol. V.; and, thanks
to his—and Lord Halifax’s—courtesy, I am privi-
leged again to reproduce it here (see p. 80).
The original, untouched photograph shows very
clearly the face of the ghost of an old man, in the
armchair by the fireplace. The author of the book
is a Justice of the Peace for Lancaster, an Alderman
of the City of Manchester, and President of the
Lancashire and Cheshire Antiquarian Society, and
is certainly the last man in the world to authorise
the reproduction of a “ faked ” ghost photograph
in his book.
I have submitted this account to him, and he
has kindly read it and allowed me to use the incident
from his book.
* * ll * Ill


Photographing a Ghost 3
Another strange case of ghost-photography was
reported in the Sunday Times, Ll0yd’s Weekly, and
other papers in February, 1916, as follows:
A strange story is told concerning the funeral
of a Grenadier Guardsman, named Jonathan
Owen, in the mining village of Risca, Mon-
mouthshire.
The soldier came home wounded from France,
and died recently at Harrogate. He was buried
in the cemetery of his native village in the same
grave as his little daughter, who had just pre-
deceased him.
After the funeral, the relatives thought they
would like a photograph of the grave, which was
abundantly embowered in foliage and flowers.
Then an amazing thing occurred. When the
plate was developed the photograph revealed the
faces of Owen and his little girl looking out from
the foliage.
They are both, it is stated, plainly visible,
and the resemblance is convincing.
This mystifying incident has created great
excitement throughout the district, and is being
investigated by spiritualists and those interested
in psychical research.
I myself have investigated this matter, and have
found the facts to be as stated above. In the follow-
ing week’s issue of the Sunday Times appeared a
letter giving a suggested explanation. .
* * * * *
Again, when collecting material for one of my books
I was offered a very weird photograph to illustrate


4 The White Ghost Book
one of the stories which dealt with the ghost of
a gigantic monk. The story gave details of how
and when the photograph was taken, in the haunted
room, and I had the picture in my possession for
some time, intending to reproduce it in the book.
My publisher decided, however, not to have illus-
trations, so I could not use it, but happily I am
able to reproduce it here (see p. 32). It was taken
in dramatic circumstances in an old manor house
in the West of England.*
It shows the ghost most clearly—tall and grim,
with a most malignant face—and the panelling of
the room is plainly visible through him.
* Il l Ill iI Ill
On page 208 is a really extraordinary photograph
which I am fortunately able to reproduce.
The photographer—an- amateur—~while taking
some views of an old farm-house, not far from Acton,
“ snapped” the farmer, with his wife and family
who posed to him for a group in front of the house.
Two snapshots were taken, at an interval of a few
minutes, and when, later in the day, the photographer
developed the films, he saw, to his astonishment,
that, in one of them, a face appeared peeping out
from a window of the house.
He could not understand this, because he knew
there was no one in the house at the time, and, further,
that the room in question was entirely empty and
locked up, quite unfurnished save for the curtains
in the window. Yet, on the film appeared the
" I have told the story in full in “ The Grey Ghost Book,"
p. 77.


Photographing a Ghost 5
portrait of an elderly woman, in a white cap, looking
out of the window on the left-hand side of the door.
Now, the room in question was unused on account
of its having the reputation of being haunted. The
portrait was that of the ghost.
III Il l III Ill *
The photograph which forms the frontispiece to
this book was taken in the following circumstances :—
On May 15th, 1905, a photographer living in a small
market town took a photograph of a working-man,
whom we will call Warner. The plate used was the first
out of a new packet, and there was nobody present
except the photographer and his sitter. None of
the people concerned were spiritualists, and nothing
out of the common was seen or expected. Four
days later, on the 19th, the plate was developed,
and then it was found that, on the left of the sitter’s
handkerchief, there was a man’s face distinctly‘to be
seen. His turn-down collar and tie came out very
clearly; while, lower down, appeared his watch-chain;
and, lower still—a little above the sitter’s knee-
his hand, with white cuff, showed very plainly.
The face was unmistakably that of Warner-’s
cousin, who at the time was lying in hospital,
fifteen or twenty miles away, suffering from a gunshot
wound, from the effects of which he died a few days
later.
The photograph of him was recognised by his
mother and other witnesses who knew him. There
was no flaw in the plate, and he had never at any
time been photographed by the photographer who
took the portrait. Indeed, the latter had previously


6 The White Ghost Book
’ been unaequainted with Warner, and never even
knew of his cousin’s existence.
The photographer has affirmed on oath that
the negative had not been “ faked,” and the Rev.
W. Romney, in whose church his brother was choir-
master, and who was well acquainted with the family,
has absolute confidence in his honesty and veracity.
i.q-_-qi;-»-I@-»-u- -‘,»-H-‘.. .----_ .4-1-__._A____._Z._i__ H 4


GHOSTS SEEN BY FAMOUS PEOPLE
NAPOLEON I.—-Loan BROUGHAM—LADY CHATTERTON-—
Loan ER.SKINE—SIR ALBERT FYTCH—THE HoN.
G. F. BERKELEY
IN writing about well-known people who have seen
ghosts, I am reminded of one of my relatives who
wrote to ask me if I knew that the Rev. Charles
Kingsley believed in ghosts and actually had seen
one, and did I know the story? I did, for Charles
Kingsley told it himself in one of his letters:
“ Of Button-cap—I knew him well. He used to
walk across the room in flopping slippers, and turn
over the leaves of books to find the missing deed,
whereof he had defrauded the orphan and the widow.
Nobody ever saw him; but in spite of that he wore
a flowered dressing-gown and a cap with a button
on it. Sometimes he turned cross and played Polter-
geist, as the Germans say, rolling the barrels in the
cellar with surprising noise, which was undignified,
So he was always ashamed of himself, and put them
all back in their places before morning. I believe
he is gone now. . . .
“ Perhaps someone had been laying phosphoric
paste about, and he ate thereof, and ran down to
the pond, and drank till he burst. He was Rats.”
And so the story of old Button-cap was exploded_
All the same, many well-known people have seen
7


8 The White Ghost Book
ghosts, and have recorded their experiences. Two
Lord Chancellors-—-Lord Brougham and Lord Erskine
—are among the number whose ghost-stories, told in
their own words, are given here. Lord Castlereagh
saw “ The Radiant Boy,” the famous ghost of Corby
Castle. Sir Robert Peel saw a ghost, so did Lord
Byron, and so did Mozart. General Garfield, the
poet Shelley, Goethe, Napoleon, all saw apparitions.
Napoleon’s ghost story, told by General Montholon
—his companion in exile—is as follows :
“ The Emperor was pretty calm during the night,
until about four in the morning, when he said to me
with extraordinary emotion, ‘ I have just seen my
good Josephine, but she would not embrace me;
she disappeared at the moment when I was about
to take her in my arms. She was seated then. It
seemed to me that I had seen her yesterday evening ;
she had not changed ; still the same—full of devotion
to me. She told me that we were about to see each
other again, never more to part. She assured me
that. Did you see her ? ’
“ I took great care not to say anything which
might increase the feverish excitement, too plainly
evident to me. I gave him his potion and changed
his linen, and he fell asleep. But on waking he
again spoke of the Empress Josephine, and I should
. only have uselessly irritated him by telling him it
97!
was ‘ only a dream.
How often the expression “it was only a dream ”
is used to explain away any kind of vision or appari-
tion! Dreams can account for much, but I prefer


The Brougham Ghost-Story 9
to believe that the spirit of the Empress Josephine
hovered round the dying Emperor and appeared to
him at the last.
=l= * * * *
In collecting material for my ghost books I am
always specially glad to include these instances of
ghosts seen by well-known and distinguished people,
who have not been afraid boldly to confess their
own experiences. I have related many cases of the
kind, but have not so far included the Brougham
ghost-story, which, although much talked of years
ago, may be new to many of my readers.
. Henry, Lord Brougham and Vaux, became a
member of the Whig Ministry under Earl Grey, on
the fall of the Wellington Ministry in November,
1830, as Lord Chancellor of England. He took
part with Earl Grey in carrying through the great
Reform Bill of 1882, and was the founder of the
Edinburgh Review. He was Attorney-General for
Queen Caroline, and defended her at her trial; was
Lord Rector of Glasgow University, and held many
other distinguished positions. On his retirement
from the Woolsack he published many literary works,
and, like Disraeli, he brought his contemporaries,
slightly veiled, into a novel.
During his travels in Norway he not only saw a
ghost, but wrote down the facts‘in his journal after-
wards, with a subsequent comment in 1862. In his
travels he was accompanied by Charles Stuart, eldest
son of Sir Charles Stuart, who was the fourth son of
John, third Earl of Bute. Mr. Stuart was not only
his travelling companion but the most intimate friend


10 The White Ghost Book
he ever had. Lord Brougham records his experi-
ence as follows:
“ December 19. We set out from Gottenburg at
nine, determining to make for Norway, in the almost
certain expectation of finding a vessel there for some
part in Scotland. At Kongelf we stopped to eat some
of our cold provisions, and then continued our
journey in the dark.
“ At one in the morning, arriving at a decent
hotel (in Sweden), we decided to stop for the night,
and found a couple of comfortable rooms. Tired
with the cold of yesterday, I was glad to take advan-
tage of a hot bath before I turned in. And here
a most remarkable thing happened to me—so re-
markable that I must tell the story from the
beginning.
“ After I left the High School, I went with G-———,
my most intimate friend, to attend the classes in
the University. There was no divinity class, but we
frequently in our walks discussed and speculated
upon many grave subjects—among others, on the
immortality of the soul and on a future state. This
question, and the possibility—I will not say of
ghosts walking, but of the dead appearing to the
living, were subjects of much speculation; and we
actually committed the folly of drawing up an
agreement, written with our blood, to the effect that
whichever of us died the first should appear to the
other, and thus solve any doubts we had entertained
of ‘the life after death.’
“ After we had finished our classes at the college
G——— went to India, having got an appointment


The Brougham Ghost-Story 11
in the Civil Service. He seldom wrote to me, and
after the lapse of a few years I had almost forgotten
him. Moreover, his family having little connection
with Edinburgh, I seldom saw or heard anything of
them, or of him through them, so that all the old
schoolboy intimacy had died out, and I had nearly
forgotten his existence.
“ I had taken, as I have said, a warm bath, and
while lying in it and enjoying the comfort of the
heat after the late freezing I had undergone, I turned
my head round, looking towards the chair on which
I had deposited my clothes, as I was about to get
out of the bath. On the chair sat Gi, looking
calmly at me.
“ How I got out of the bath I know not, but on
recovering my senses I found myself sprawling on
the floor. The apparition, or whatever it was that
had taken the likeness of G—-——, had disappeared.
This vision produced such a shock that I had no
inclination to talk about it, even to Stuart; -but
the impression it made upon me was too vivid to
be easily forgotten, and so strongly was I affected
by it that I have here written down the whole his-
tory, with the date, 19th December, and all the
particulars as they are now fresh before me.
“ No doubt I had fallen asleep; and that the
appearance presented so distinctly to my eyes was
a dream, I cannot for a minute doubt. Yet for years
I had had no communication with G——, nor had
there been anything to recall him to my recollection ;
nothing had taken place during our Swedish travels
either associated with G or with India, or with
anything relating to him, or to any member of his


12 The White Ghost Book
family. I recollected quickly enough our old dis-
cussion, and the bargain we had made.
“ I could not discharge from my mind the impres-
sion that G must have died, and that his appear-
ance to me was to be received by me as proof of
a future state; yet all the while I felt convinced
that the whole was a dream, and so painfully vivid,
and so unfading was the impression that I could
not bring myself to talk of it, or to make the slightest
allusion to it.
“ I finished dressing, and as we had all agreed
to make an early start I was ready by six o’clock,
the hour of our early breakfast.”

On October 16th, 1862, Lord Brougham added:
“ I have just been copying out from my journal
the account of this strange dream. Certissima
mortis imagol And now to finish the story, begun
above sixty years since.
“ Soon after my return to Edinburgh there arrived
a letter from India, announcing G—---’s death, and,
stating that he had died on December 19th. Singular
coincidence! Yet when one reflects on the vast
number of dreams which, night after night, pass
through our brains, the number of coincidences
between the vision and the event are perhaps fewer
and less remarkable than a fair calculation of chances
would warrant us to expect. Nor is it surprising,
considering the variety of our thoughts in sleep, and
that they all bear some analogy to the affairs of
life, that a dream should sometimes coincide with
a contemporaneous or even a future event. This


The Brougham Ghost-Story 13
is not much more wonderful than that a person whom
we had no reason to expect should appear to us at
the very moment we had been thinking or speaking
of him. So common is this that it has for ages
grown into the proverb : ‘ Speak of the devil . . .’
“ I believe every seeming miracle is, like every
ghost story, capable of explanation.”
Lord Brougham then goes on to tell the story of
Lord Lyttelton’s ghost (it is related in full detail
in my “ Grey Ghost Book ”), which he says his
father told, but coupled with his entire conviction
that it was either a pure invention or the accidental
coincidence of a dream with the event. The evidence
in favour of Lord Lyttelton’s strange _experience
being a genuine visitation from the spirit world is,
however, far too strong for it to be explained away
as a “ coincidence.”
Ill 11 * * =11
Lady Chatterton, who had the following remark-
able experiences, was the daughter of the Rev.
Lascelles Iremonger, prebendary of Winchester Cathe-
dral and vicar of Goodnorth Clutford, near Andover,
Hants. At the end of her first season in London
she married Sir William Chatterton. She had the
privilege of meeting most of the interesting people
of her time, and has left on record a charming account
of them.
One evening, when she was dining with Lock-
hart and his daughter, the conversation turned on
ghosts. It was a very pleasant dinner party, the
guests being “ a set of wits and remarkable people,”


14 The White Ghost Book
but after the company had left, her host persuaded
her to stay on and relate her ghost story to him.
Lockhart told her he had the greatest wish to believe
in the existence of ghosts, as showing the reality of
a spiritual world, and he made her write down an
account of her experiences. This she did, and her
story is told in her “ Memoirs,” edited by her second
husband, Edward Heneage Uering, published in
1878. Here is the experience in Lady Chatterbon’s
own words :
“ I could scarcely have been four years old when
we were staying at Sherborne Castle, an old place
belonging to Lord Digley, in Dorsetshire. It was
built by Sir Walter Raleigh, and is situated on a
height overlooking a large piece of water, with the
ruins of an older castle on the farther bank.
“ The castle was so full on our arrival that my
old Scotch nurse and I were put into a large room,
which I afterwards heard was said to be the
haunted room. Nobody would sleep in it, and
strange noises were heard at night to come from it.
My nurse did not know this at the time, nor did
my mother. I
“ My impression is that I was much pleased to
find myself in this large room, for it was on the third
storey, and the views from its windows over the
beautiful terrace garden, which sloped down to the
water and the ruined castle beyond, enchanted me. ,
“ I slept in a little cot which had been placed
close to a large, old-fashioned bed of carved oak
with red velvet curtains, where my nurse slept.
In the middle of the night I was awoke by a brilliant


'4__~
The Ghost at Sherborne Castle 15
light that shone upon the wall. As I looked wonder-
ingly at it, figures of men fighting seemed to pass
over it, like the reflections produced by a magic
lantern. Groups of figures passed to and fro, shout-
ing as they advanced and retreated. The colours
were very vivid; I saw red coats and black, and
flashing of firearms, and heard horrible noises.
“ I was very much frightened, and looked round
to my nurse for help. She was sitting up in bed,
and to my still greater horror I saw she was not
awake, but her eyes were fixed, though she seemed
to be making signs to the figures, talking to them
and motioning them to go away, while they were
yelling and quarrelling.
“ I could neither cry out nor move—I was so
frightened; but continued to look at the strange
appearance. Suddenly it vanished, and all was dark
and silent. A feeling of horror and dread, which I
still feel when I happen to think of it, kept me
awake until the day dawned through the window
curtains, when I went to sleep. I never mentioned
this horrible scene to my nurse, nor to anybody else,
till many years afterwards, when I told her about
it, and asked if she had any recollection of it. She
answered that she had not.
“ We often stayed at Sherborne Castle afterwards,
but I never heard of anyone being put into that room
to sleep. It was directly over the one my mother
generally had, and one night she was roused by a
violent knocking overhead. She described it as of
dead bodies falling or being thrown about on the floor
overhead. My father heard it too, and as there was
3, little turret staircase that wound up to the floor


16 The White Ghost Book
above out of their room, he determined to go and
see what it could be.
“ He lighted a candle and ascended the narrow
winding staircase. He found the door of this large
mysterious room open, but no one was in it. He
had the courage (as I afterwards thought) to pass
through the room and went out at the other door,
which opened on the great staircase, and came down
again to my mother. The strange noises had ceased,
and they never heard them again.
“ I often went into that haunted room when I
was staying there afterwards. I used to stand near
the large, carved oak bedstead, just where my little ,
cot had been, and try to account for the strange
effect I remembered so well. The vision or appear- ‘
ance had been on the wall opposite the windows,
and I tried to fancy that the moonlight could have
shone in and produced some kind of pattern on
the wall. But the paper on it was a kind of dull
green with a very slight pattern, and I remembered
that the dark red damask curtains of the windows ‘
had been drawn, so that had the moon been shining .
.
no light could have come in, except through some
small crevices, and this could not have formed the
large vision all along the breadth of the wall, nor
the lurid light that awoke me out of my sleep.”
II‘ * * * it
On another occasion Lady Chatterton had a
mysterious experience, this time at Prebendary
House, Winchester. Her mother had been rather
ill, but was then convalescent; and she had left
her in the drawing room in excellent spirits and


Lady Chatterton’s Vision 17
gone to bed. Awaking in the night, she saw reflected
on the white curtains of her bed the figure of her
mother, dreadfully pale, lying on her bed with blood
flowing from her lips. She touched the curtain,
but still the vision remained, although the curtain
moved to and fro as she touched it. Throwing on
a cloak she rushed to her mother’s room and found
her just as she had seen her on the curtain, with
the sheet covered with blood and two doctors in
attendance.
Her mother was delighted to see her, although
too ill to speak, and pressed her hand. One of the
doctors said that all danger was now over, he hoped,
and that her mother had not sent for her because,
knowing that she had gone to bed early with a cold,
she did not wish her to be disturbed.
Lady Chatterton adds that although these were
the only two occasions when she has seen any
phenomena, she often had positive perceptions of
the danger or death of dear friends.
* * =l= * =l<
Lord Erskine, youngest son of the tenth Earl
of Buchan, began his career as a midshipman on
board H.M.S. Tartar, and next bought a commission
in the second battalion of the 1st Royal Regiment
of Foot. He afterwards decided to go to the Bar,
and roseto be Lord Chancellor. The following ghost
story is related in his own words:
,“ When I was a very young man, I had been
for some time absent from Scotland. On the morn-
ing of my arrival in Edinburgh, as I was descending

0


18 The White Ghost Book
the steps of a close, on coming out from a book-
seller’s shop, I met an old family butler.
“ He looked greatly changed--grey, wan, and
shadowy as a ghost. ‘ Eh, old boy,’ I said, ‘ what
brings you here ‘£ ’ He replied: ‘ To meet your
honour and solicit your interference with my lord
to recover a sum due to me, which the steward at
the last settlement did not pay.’
“ Struck by his looks and manner, I bade him
follow me to the bookseller’s, into whose shop I
stepped back; but when I turned round to speak
to him he had vanished.
“ I remembered that his wife carried on some
little trade in the Old Town. I remembered even
the house or flat she occupied, which I had often
visited in my own boyhood. Having made it out,
I found the old woman in widow’s mourning. Her
husband had been dead for some months, and had
told her, on his deathbed, that my father’s steward
had wronged her of some money, but that when
Master Tom returned he would see her righted.
“ This I promised to do, and shortly after I ful-
filled my promise. The impression was indelible.”
Lord Erskine’s story can be found in Lady
Morgan’s “Book of the Boudoir.”
In this entertaining book, Lady Morgan gives
her first impressions of Lord Erskine, with whom
she kept up a correspondence until his death. She
had long wished to know him, and had made a hero
of him; but when her dream was realised and she
met the famous Lord Chancellor, she admits that
she was disappointed to find “ that he spoke like


A Story from Burma 19
other persons, was a thin, middle-aged gentleman,
and wore a brown wig! ” However, in spite of this
disenchantment, she fell under the spell of his per-
sonal magnetism. One day they met at an “ elegant
salon ” of the day, much frequented by the most
distinguished members of the Upper and Lower
Houses.
Lord Erskine, the Duchess of G—--, and Lady
Morgan as guests were talking together, and the
conversation turned on ghosts and second sight, in
the latter of which both Lord Erskine and the
Duchess acknowledged their belief. Lady Morgan
expressed her surprise at such “ superstition,” and
was promptly snubbed by the Duchess, who after-
wards, to convert her, related a curious and romantic
tale of second sight in her own family.
Not to be outdone, Lord Erskine thereupon re-
lated the above incident, which, as Lady Morgan
adds, he evidently believed from the way in which
he told it.
* >z< 2- * =|=
Lieut.-General Sir Albert Fytch, C.S.I., Chief
Commissioner of British Burma and agent to the
Viceroy and Governor-General of India, related the
following ghost story in his “ Burma, Past and
Present,” which he dedicated to his cousin, Lord
Tennyson:
“ A remarkable incident occurred to me at Maul-
main, whihh made a deep impression upon my
imagination.
“ Believers in the supernatural are laughed at in
these days of material science; ghost stories are


20 The White Ghost Book
specially derided. And yet, whilst I was residing
at Maulmain I saw a ghost with my own eyes in
broad daylight, of which I could make an affidavit.
“ I had an old schoolfellow, who was afterwards
a college friend, with whom I had lived in the closest
intimacy. Years, however, passed away without
our seeing each other. One morning I had just
got out of bed and was dressing myself when sud-
denly my old friend entered the room. I greeted
him warmly, told him to call for a cup of tea in
the veranda, and promised to be with him imme-
diately.
“ I dressed myself in all haste and went out
into the veranda, but found no one there. I could
not believe my eyes. I called to the sentry who
was posted in front of the house, but he had seen
no strange gentleman that morning. The servants
also declared that no such person had entered the
g house. I was certain I had seen my friend. I was
not thinking about him at the time; yet I was
not taken by surprise, as steamers and other vessels
were frequently arriving in Maulmain.
“ A fortnight afterwards news arrived that he had
died, six hundred miles off, about the very time I
saw him at Maulmain.
“ It is useless to comment upon this story. To
this day I have never doubted that I really saw
the ghost of my deceased friend.”
* * * * *
The Hon. Grantley F. Berkeley, son of the fifth
Earl of Berkeley, once saw a ghost, not at Berkeley
Castle, as one might imagine, but at Cranford House,


Ghost at Cranford House 21

._-I ,. -,7 -,a_—_==-==-on-_ . ... . .1“-,4q--. '
near Hounslow, Middlesex, one of the dower houses
settled by his father on his mother. He tells the
story in his “ Life and Recollections,” to the effect
that before he left the Guards he and his brother
Moreton, while down at Cranford, were one night
sitting up fully armed ready to go out for a brush
with the poachers who had been very active lately
in killing the keeper’s fowls in a neighbouring hen-
roost.
“ It was the rule of my mother’s house,” writes
Mr. Berkeley, “ that all the servants should be in
bed at ten o’clock, and on the night of the ghost
we were not to go forth till midnight, when there
would be enough of a moon to dispel the p/itchy
darkness induced by a partial fog, that at first
was an ample protection to the game. My brother
and myself were together, and well armed, in no
mood to be nervously excited, and little inclined to
be afraid of anything.
“ We passed by the still-room, intending, by
crossing the kitchen and going through the scullery,
to reach the courtyard by the back way.
“ The large old house was as still as death when
my hand turned the handle of the kitchen door,
which, opening, partially admitted me to the room,
at tine bottom of the long table which, starting from
betwzen the entrance where I was and the door of
exit to the scullery, ran up to my left in its full
length to the great fireplace and tall and expansive
kitchen screen. The screen stood to the right of
the fireplace as I looked at it, so that a large body
of glowing embers in. the grate threw a steady,
distinct glare of red light throughout the entire length


22 The White Ghost Book
of the apartment, making the smallest thing dis-
tinctly visible, and falling full on the tall figure of
a woman, divided from me only by the breadth
of the bottom of the table.
“ She was dressed, or seemed to be dressed, as
a maidservant, with a sort of poke bonnet on, and
a dark shawl drawn or pinned tightly across her
breast. On my entrance she slowly turned her head
to look at me, and as she did so every feature ought
to have stood forth in the light of the fire, but I
at once saw that there was, beneath the bonnet, an
indistinctness of outline not to be accounted for.
“ Holding the door open with my left hand, with
the right against the post, I addressed to my brother,
who was behind me, simply the word ‘ Look.’ As
I uttered this, the figure seemed to commence
gliding, rather than proceeding by steps, slowly on
up the kitchen towards the fireplace, while I lowered
my right arm to let my brother in, then closed the
door, locked it, and put the key into my pocket.
“ In reply to me Moreton said, ‘ I see her—there
she goes.’
“ I had not told him what I had seen, and there-
fore could in no way have suggested the idea he
seemed to entertain.
“ After I had thus locked the door, on turning
round there was no woman to be seen, so I asked
my brother whither she had gone. He instantly
replied, ‘ Up the kitchen towards the screen.’
“ ‘ Come on, then,’ I cried, ‘ let’s have some fun
and catch her to see who it is.’
“ Our impression was that it was one of the maid-
servants, sitting up long after the usual hours, and


Ghost at Cranford House 23
we at once proceeded, each taking a separate corner
of the screen, and meeting on the side next the fire
-——but there was nothing there.”
The two brothers then made a most minute
search of the kitchen, even looking up the chimney
and into every nook and cranny. The windows
were tightly shut, and the only other door leading
into the scullery was locked with the key in the
kitchen side of it.
“ Here I offer to my readers,” Mr. Berkeley con-
cludes, “ a fact impossible to be accounted for—an
apparition visible to two persons who, when they
saw it, thought that it was a living body, each sup-
posed it to be a woman and, fearless of spiritual
agency, pursued it, but in vain.
“ The form certainly resembled no one we had
ever known; it came to indicate no treasure, nor
to point to any spot of perpetrated crime. It came
we knew not why, and went we knew not whither.”


GHOSTLY MUSIC
HAVE often come across instances of ghostly
music, both in fact and fiction. One of the best
instances in fiction, I think, is the account given in
“ John Herring ” of the bundle of walking-sticks in
the eerie old Cornish house that used to play the
quaint melody, “ Since First I Saw Your Face,” when-
ever any trouble threatened the dwellers in the house.
No doubt the author of the book, the Rev. S.
Baring-Gould, being well versed in legend and folk-
lore, had heard of some happening of the kind in
Cornwall and wove it into his delightful romance.
But two instances of ghostly music have come to
my personal knowledge and are related here for the
first time. The first one was told me by a lady who
vouches for its accuracy, and whom I know to be
the last person in the world to “ draw the long
bow ” or in any way misrepresent facts.‘
“ When I was about twenty,” she said, ‘ my
mother and I were together at the old Rectory (her
home). It was a most curious house, with two halls,
in one of which was an organ. All the rooms were
low and narrow, and the second hall opened into
the kitchen. My mother was nervous one night,
and asked me to sleep with her. We went to bed
rather late and were resting quietly, when about
twelve o’clock we both heard faint strains of music
coming up from below.
G
=4


Ghostly Music 25
“ ‘ Isn’t that someone playing the organ ? ’ said
my mother. ‘ Who can it be ? ’
“ Even as she spoke the music became louder
and louder, and the full tones of the organ in the
hall below swelled out until they filled the whole
house. Louder and louder grew the music, while
we clung together with fright; then it grew softer,
and died away with a sobbing echo.
“ We got up and called the governess, who had
been awakened by the music, and we all went down-
stairs and searched the house thoroughly, but all
the doors were locked and the maids in bed and
everything as quiet as the grave.
“ The governess, who was deadly frightened,
brought wraps and a pillow into our room and slept
on a sofa at the foot of the bed. Just as the dawn
was breaking we all three heard the music again,
and again searched the house but found no one.
“ Later on, a letter came to say that a near rela-
tive had died during the night, and I took it to be
a sign, for we found that she had passed away just
at midnight.”
* IF * III =l<
The other instance concerns a Vicarage in Hamp-
shire, and I am fortunate enough to obtain a descrip-
tion of it from a lady who heard the music. I wrote
to her husband for details, and she replied as follows :
“ I am answering your letter for my husband,
as he thinks perhaps I could explain what we know
of the haunted room at the vicarage. It is only a
few people who have ever seen anything there, and
I happened to be lying awake in that room one night,


26 The White Ghost Book
when suddenly I distinctly heard the door open
gently, and it seemed as if a coffin was passing out
and a procession of people. They were singing the
hymn, ‘ Hark, my soul, it is the Lord.’ I could hear _
the footsteps, first low and then gradually dying
away, and also the voices quite plainly.
“ It seems strange that I did not actually see
anything, but I was so frightened I could not move
for a time. When I did I woke my husband and
told him. He said he thought I must have been
dreaming, but I know it was not a dream.
“ I also know that a nurse who was nursing my
husband’s grandmother at the vicarage was sleeping
in the room, and she was a stranger and never knew
anything about the room being supposed to be
haunted; but she asked me if it was, as she had
twice seen a coffin, and it looked as if there was
someone in a shroud in it.”
* * * * *
Another striking instance of the hearing of ghostly
music is recorded on p. 77 in the course of the grue-
some story entitled “The House of Horror.” Miss
Hargrove, again, as a result of her own investigations
(see pp. 163, 164 and 167), found that mysterious
music was an essential part of the manifestations at
Knighton Gorges.


STORIES OF HAUNTED HOUSES





THE HOUSE OF HORROR*
[This story regarding an Irish castle, which I
have named Kilman Castle,1' calls for some special
ea2planation—which, personally, I am unable to give.
Perhaps amongst the younger generation of scientists
—who can tabulate and dissect anything, and by
analysis ewplain anything—one will be found to under-
take the task of reducing the apparitions at this house
of horror to their original elements, but the task is beyond
me. I can merely write down the /acts as they came
to my knowledge.
Two of the people who have seen the elemental
apparition here recorded, and the “ Captain Gordon ”
in whose name this tale is told, passed out of this
world 0/ speculation very soon after their vision of the
uncanny spook.
Fully realising the howls of incredulous laughter
with which critics will greet this confession, I here
declare that on three separate occasions I have person-
ally verified some of the ewperiences related, and that
* For this weird ghost-story—a story which, for sheer horror, is
hard to beat—I am indebted to the writer, Andrew Merry, from
whom, by way of further testimony to the story's truth, I have
just received a letter, in which occur these words: “ Since it was
written as much again of facts could be added to it, including the
seeing of the grey Elemental last November by five people, beside
myself, at the same time.”—J. A. M.
1' The name, Kilman Castle, I may explain, is fictitious. So,
also, are the other names given in this gruesome story.
=9


30 The White Ghost B051;
twice I saw the Elemental. Since that vision two very
serious accidents have taken me to the gates of the
-newt world—indeed, almost through them.—ANDaEw
MERRY.]
I
THIS is a story of facts that have occurred and
that are occurring.
I admit at once that my tale will be deemed
improbable—even impossible. Still, a number of
men and women, many of them living, have seen
and heard the things I am about to relate. Of
course, you may assume that they were all the
victims of hysterical delusions—that it is all a
matter of auto-telepathic hypnotic suggestions, or
any other sonorous collection of syllables you please
to string together; but that these things were seen
and heard by healthy, intelligent people, and are
still seen and heard, is indisputable.
For myself, I do not fancy I am a neurotic, or
have a highly-strung, imaginative temperament. I
am a captain in a native Indian regiment, thirty-two
years of age, sound in wind and limb, and generally
“ grass ” what I aim at, so I imagine my eyesight is
not faulty. I have done a good share of active
service, and can honestly say I never felt nervous
in my life before the month of November last year,
when I was staying with my cousin at Kilman Castle,
near the west coast of Ireland.
Looking back on the whole matter now that
some months have passed, I am still unable to find
any possible explanation of this impossible story.
I shall just relate it, therefore, exactly as it
occurred, with all the details of my visit, so that


The House of Horror 31
anyone who in the future reads this record may be
able to put himself in my place and visualise some-
what the surroundings and the people concerned.
* * * =ll II!
When I arrived at the railway station of the
small Irish county town named Ballykinkope, the
daylight of the short November day was gradually
sinking into twilight.
A grey-headed porter opened the carriage door
and collected my gun-case, rugs, and golf-clubs.
“ Another bag in the van? Right, sorr. Will
yer ’anner be wanting a kyar ? ” he inquired. “ Where
will ye be going to ? ”
“ To Kilman Castle,” I replied.
“ Then ’twill be you are Captain Gordon that
the Castle kyar is just afther comin’ for. This way,
sorr.”
He led me out of the wooden building doing duty
as station offices to where a tall dog-cart was wait-
ing, and soon my luggage was stowed away. A
wizened little old groom seated himself beside me,
driving the raking sixteen-hand horse at a good
pace along the greasy road.
“ That’s a nice traveller,” I remarked, nodding
in the direction of the horse, and noting the long,
easy stride.
“ He is that, sorr. His sire was ‘ Stupendous,’
Lord Brosna’s cilibrated American trotter,” answered
the old man. Then he added respectfully, touching
his hat, “ ’Twill be your first sight of the Castle, I
think, Captain ? ”
The man was right. As a matter of fact, I was


32 The White Ghost Book
in Ireland for the first time. Since my cousin had
married Maurice O’Connoll, the owner of Kilman
Castle, I had not been in Europe, but had spent
my leave in various hunting and shootingexpeditions
nearer to my regiment in India.
When at last I had come back to London, I found,
amongst the letters welcoming me, one from Betty,
telling me to start “ at once ” for Kilman.
She added: “I have got a dimpled Irish girl
for you with a delightful d0t—the last a rarity
nowadays in this distressful country. So be ready
for the worst.”
I needed no inducements of “ dimples ” or
“ dots ” ; the idea of the Green Isle alone was attrac-
tion enough.
“ You’ve been with the O’Connolls some time, I
suppose?” I asked my ancient Jehu; he had the
air and manners of a confidential servant.
“ Wid the mashter, and the ould man before him,
sorr. I drove the mashter to his christenin’, an’ I
drove him an’ the mishtress home when he first
brought her from England, an’, plase God, I’ll live
to drive thim to their funeral yit, for there’s years
of work in this arrum.” He spoke in perfect good
faith, with tones of the utmost devotion to “ the
mashter,” whose early demise he thus anticipated.
“ Shure, it was great divarshuns we had that
time,” he continued, “ when the mashter married—
bonfires an’ dancing, lashings of porther, and of
potheen, all through the night. It took me an’ the
steward all our time to git the gentlemen, who had
taken a sup too much, safe out of the ring before
the family was up the next morning.”


2
The Terrible Monk
matic c'n'cumstanccs, 'm an old
Reproduced from a ghost photograph, taken under dra
-<‘ ‘ r w..~1...: nvunnr house (see gage 3] ' _





The House of Horror 33
“ Kilman is a very old place, I think ? ”
“ It is that same, sorr, an’ none older round these
parts at all, at all. There’s been many a bloody
battle fought near by, an’ for that matther there’s
one livin’ now as was hid in the Castle when the
Ribbon boys—God rest their sowls !—were about.”
“ You’ve had wild times enough in Ireland often,”
I said encouragingly, hoping to get him to talk freely.
He needed little inducing, and continued:
“ That’s a fact, sorr. ’Tis often I’ve heard of my
gran’father’s gran’father, an’ his doings wid the
Wild Captain O’Connoll. I can just remind me of
my gran’father’s telling us the tales—him an ould,
ould man, no one knew what age—just as his
gran’father tould them to himself. There’s one
sthory—but belike I’m wearying you wid my talk,
sorr.” I
I reassured him, and he started again.
“ Well, sorr, they do say that the Wild Irish had
besieged the Castle, and were afther burning the
O’Moore’s house up beyant the Knockganoc. The
\Vild. Captain an’ his yeomen—he had a troop three
hundred strong, which did more against the rap-
parrees than all the King’s soldiers put together-
was shut up tight in the Castle, wid three or four
thousand of the mountain men camped round in
the plain. The Maw Houghlal was commanding
the rapparrees, a mighty robber chief he was, an’
him an’ the Wild Captain had many a grudge to
sittle whin the saints brought thim together. Well,
whin the Wild Captain heard that the Maw had
burnt the O’Moore’s house over his head, an’ killed
th’ ould man, an’ more too, takin’ Miss Diana O’Moore
n


34 The White Ghost Book
a prisoner, the Captain wint mad wid rage; for by
that token he was thinkin’ that the Lily of Avaghoe,
as Miss O’Moore was named, would have made a
wife for himself. ’Twas said her father had a power
of goulden guineas and precious stones, hid up in
a big brass pot, for a marriage gift for her.
“ So by this an’ that the Captain fairly was rale
wild, an’ he rushed to where his yeomen were feasting
an’ cried aloud:
“ ‘ Who will risk his life wid me to save the Lily
of Avaghoe ‘P ’
“ With a shout you could hear at Croaghaun,
every man answered him:
“ ‘ ’Tis meself will ! ’
“ The Wild Captain smiled, and they did be saying
a dozen rapparrees had betther be savin’ their sowls
whinever he smiled. ‘
“ ‘ Come, thin,’ he says, an’ the gates were
opened an’ they rode out an’ fought the Irishers all
the day, slaughtering frightful.
“ But though they killed an’ killed, an’ though
the Wild Captain’s grey horse come home crimson
to the saddle-flaps, not one sight did they git of the
Lily of Avaghoe, before the twilight come on. So
they turned sorrowful into the Castle.
“ The Wild Captain ate no mate, but sat wid his
head bint, no one daring to pass the time o’ day
wid him.
“ At last he wint for my gran’father’s gran’-
father. ‘ Teighe,’ says he, ‘ will ye come to the
gates of hell wid me ? ’
“ ‘ I will that same,’ says my gran’fathcr’s gran’-
father, ‘ and that skippin’.’


The House of Horror 35
“ ‘ Thin git the clothes off two of them carrio n
an’ be quick.’
“ So the other he got two set of the mountain
men’s clothes, an’ the two of them put them on an’
disguised themselves as strolling beggars, one wid
pipes an’ the other wid a fiddle. Thin they left the
castle unbeknownst to anyone but a sintry.
“ ‘ Teighe,’ says the Wild Captain, ‘if the rap-
parrees dishcover us we’re dead men.’
“ ‘ They’ll kill us for sartain,’ agrees my gran’-
father’s gran’father, ‘ an’ more times than not roast
us alive when we’re dead first.’
“ ‘ They’ll be apt to be thousands to one agin
us.’
“ ‘ Or more, Captain, the Lord be praised!’
“ ‘ Teighe, ye can go back now and not one sowl
think the worse of ye.’ _
“ ‘ Shure ye know I’d die for you, Captain dear,
an’ if it’s hell you’re bound for, it’s meself will be
thare first, wid the door open for yer honour. Is
it me ’ud renaigh ? ’
“ So no more passed between them until they
reached the mountains.
“ ‘ It’s Irish we’ll spake,’ whispered the Captain
whin they saw the light of the ribil fires. Thin
they hailed the sintry in Irish, telling him they had
escaped the English, an’ soon both were warmin’
their hands to the fire an’ ateing from the big pot
that hung over that same.
“ After supper they played an’ sang ribil songs
an’ ould haythenish Irish tunes, an’ my gran’father’s
gra.n’father said the Wild Captain made his fiddle
spake; whilst himself, he put his sowl into the
o


36 The White Ghost Book
pipes, until the mountain men wint wild wid delight
at the grand tunes of them.
“ ‘ It’s to the Maw they must play,’ the ribils
cried, an’ soon the two was led further up into the
mountains, where the Maw and fourteen of his
chieftains sat—an’ there, right in the middle of the
ribil lot, wid her two pretty hands and her two
little fate tied wid a coarse bit of rope, lay the Lily
of Avaghoe safe enough.
“Then the two played and sung to the Maw
until he grew tired and felt like slapeing.
“ ‘ ’Tis well you’re here,’ says the Maw. ‘ Ye
will play at my widding to-morra,’ and he grinned
as he looked at the prisoner.
“ ‘ We will that same, an’ dance too,’ cried the
Wild Captain, smiling up in his face.
“ ‘ ’Twill be the English will dance,’ growled the
Maw, ‘ wid no ground under their feet. I’ll make
hares of them the day.’
“ An’ wid this he tould thim how ’twas all planned
to surprise the Castle at the break o’ day, an’ how
one of the most trusted of the yeomen had agreed
to open a door where he would be sintry, in exchange
for Mr. O’Moore’s pot of gould and treasure.
“ ‘ ’Tis a foine skame,’ said the Wild Captain,
‘ an’ worthy of the Maw Houghlal. But if it’s for
the break o’ day, shure ’tis slape you’d best be
gettin’, for it’s only three hours off the dawning
now.’
“ So they all lay round the fire to slape ; the
Maw an’ the fourteen of his chiefs and the two
beggars round the one fire, an’ the rest of the army
a little distance off.


The House of Horror I 37
“The fires died down a bit, and barrin’ a sob or
two from the Lily of Avaghoe, nothing stirred or
spoke.
“ Thin my gran’father’s gran’father felt a long
knife thrust in his hand, an’ the Wild Captain
whispered to him:
“ ‘ Split their throats from ear to ear, that they
may not cry out. Cut deep.’
“ Slowly the two of them crept around, pausing
at each slapeing rapparree, an’ littin’ his ribil blood
flow out on the grass.
“ Not one of the fifteen as much as turned over;
the Captain killed eight an’ the Maw, an’ my gran’-
father’_s gran’father killed the rest.
“ ‘Be silent, Diana, me darlint,’ whispered the
Wild Captain to the Lily of Avaghoe. ‘ We’ve come
to save you.’ Wid that he cut the ropes that bound
her, an’ telling her to follow him, he crept out of
the firelight, she after him, an’ my gran’father’s
gran’father lasht of all.
“ The Captain he knew every fut of them moun-
tains, so did me gran’father’s gran’father, -and,
skirtin’ round the rapparrees’ camp, they reached
the Castle in safety. You may be sure, sorr, it
wasn’t long before the Captain had his yeomen out,
and they attacked the ribils still sleepin’ in their
camp, an’ slaughtered a thousand or more before
the sun was well up.”
“ But what became of the treacherous sentry ? ”
I asked.
“ Shure he danced—in the air—at the Wild
Captain’s widding wid Miss O’Moore.”
“ And what became of the pot of treasure ? ”


38 The White Ghost Book
“ Shure the Captain he took that wid his lady,
an’ they do sayi”
“ Well ? ”
“ Ah! it’s only the country talk, yer ’anner, but
they do say the crock of gould is buried somewhere
in or near the Castle. Ye see, it fell out this way:
the Wild Captain and the English King didn’t agree
about some little matther, an’ the English King
sint the ridcoats to besiege the Castle. Now the
Castle has a long underground passage between it
an’ a rath* on the hill near by. In this rath all the
cattle an’ bastes were kept an’ driven down the
passage whin they were wanted. Well, the rid-
coats dug an’ found the passage an’ stopped_ it up
wid big rocks an’ sich like, so they in the Castle
had ne’er a bit or sup for three days. Then the
Wild Captain, in the night, he called two serving
men and says he to them:
“ ‘ Help me to carry this old crock of butter.’
“ But what he called the crock of butter was the
big brass pot full of gould and jewils. ’Twas as
much as the three could do to carry it. So whin
they got to the shpot the Wild Captain had chosen
they dug a hole an’ buried it. Then they all three
wint together to the top of the Castle to look at
the English below them. -
“ ‘ Fergus,’ says the Wild Captain to wan of the
serving-men, ‘ go down an’ bring me my sword
from my room; ’tis meself will test it afore to-
morrow’s battle.’
“ So Fergus he wint. Thin the Wild Captain A
' A prehistoric earthwork or hill fort in Ireland.


The House of Horror 39
he says to the other, ‘ Kiernan, do ye remimber
where we hid the ould crock 0’ butter ? ’
“ ‘ I do, O’Connoll,’ says Kiernan; ‘ twas there
an’ there we put the gould.’
“ ‘ May your soul rist wid it,’ says the Wild
Captain, an’ wid that he knocked him over the
edge of the battlemints an’ on to the skull on the
top of the English ridcoats on the stones below.
“ When Fergus brought up the sword, the Wild
Captain made pretence of trying the edge wid his
finger.
“ ‘ Are ye sure ye sharpened it well ? ’ says he.
“ ‘ I am,’ answers Fergus.
“ ‘ Thin may it sind your sowl to Paradise this
minute.’ An’ wid that he chops off the head of him
an’ throws him over the walls too.
“ Thin the Wild Captain, rather than die like a
rat in a' hole, giv’ himself up, an’ they took him
to Dublin, and condemned him, along with Sir
William O’Brien—a grand gintleman livin’ sivin
miles beyant—to be hung, drawn, and quartered
for treason.”
“ What an ignominious ending for Captain
O’Connoll,” I observed.
“ Oh, they did not hang him, sorr. The King
was frighted when all was said an’ done, so both
gintlemin were pardoned. But they had put such
heavy irons on the Captain’s legs that he never
could walk again, and he died away, not clare in‘
his mind. When he lay dyin’ he towld the shtory
of the gould to ease his sowl, but no one could ever
find the place he meant, tho’ they dug an’ dug an’
dug up.


40 The White Ghost Book
“Ah, but it’s just a shtory. There, sorr, now we
can see the Castle,” pointing with his_ whip to a grey
square tower showing over the tops of the leafless trees.
Kilman Castle was a sombre, bare building, con-
sisting of a square keep, tapering slightly to the
top, looking, in its grim, grey strength, as if it could
defy time itself. Flanking it on each side were
wings of more recent date, and beyond one wing
was a curious rambling-looking house which my
driver told me was called “ The Priest’s House,”
and which evidently had at one time been quite
apart from the Castle, though now part and parcel
of the house, being connected by one of the wings.
Even the trees round seemed to grow in gaunt,
weird shapes, probably because their tops caught
the full blast of the wind. Their branches creaked
and groaned above our heads as we passed under
their overhanging shadows.
The gateway was castellated and overgrown with
lichens and creepers, and the drive bordered with
ancient walls, beyond which were the ruins of other
walls or buildings, all overgrown and covered with
moss and ferns. Even the topmost branches of the
big sycamores were decorated with these same ferns,
which grew in endless profusion in every niche and
corner.
“ ’Twill be a wild night,” my driver remarked,
pointing to the murky red sky through the trees.
As he spoke, a loud mournful cry sounded above
us and was repeated three times.
I started at the first cry, then laughed, for I
quickly recognised the noise to be the wail of the
hoot owl. Often had I heard these birds in India


The House of Horror 41
and seen my native servants cower panic-stricken,
for in some parts of the East the cry of an owl is
regarded as a token of coming death to one of the
hearers.
“ That’s a loud-voiced customer,” I said. “ Are
there many of his feather round here ? ”
“ No, Captain; we never had but that one of
scracheing kind. He was here all the summer, an’
now the winter do be comin’ on, he’s spoiling the
trade of Matt’s shebeen beyant at the crass-roads
by the same token.”
“ How on earth can an owl spoil the trade of a
public-house ‘.7 ”
“ ’Tis the mountain min mostly, sorr, goes there,
an’ ne’er a mother’s son of them will put fut outside
their cabins afther dark since that gintlemin in the
ivy has been hooting. They mountain fellars be
rale skeared, for they do be believin’ in pish-rogues
an’ sich like, an’ they do be sayin’ ’tis an evil spirit
keening for a sowl ‘that will die near by. There have
been a power o’ wakes lately—what wid the influenzy
an’ the old folks bein’ pinched wid the could—in a
good hour be it spoken. Here we are, sorr.”
A bright light shone through the opened door,
and in the warm welcome that Betty and her good
man gave me I forgot the bleak night, the hooting
owl, and the bloodthirsty traditions the voluble
groom had been telling me.
II
The interior of Kilman Castle is quite in keeping
with its weather-worn outer walls. I may as well
describe it now, though it was not until the next


42 The White Ghost Book
morning that I went over the place with Maurice
O’Connoll.
The entrance-hall is very lofty, with a gallery
running round three sides, and is paved with black
and white stones. The walls are pierced—this was
evidently done long after they were originally built
—by archways leading into the two wings, and are
twenty feet thick. They are honeycombed with
narrow passages, and at two corners of the tower
are circular stone staircases, fine bits of rough-hewn
masonry, and both as perfect now as on the day
they were built. It was curious to me to note how
the inner axles of these winding ladder-like stairs
had had the blackened stones polished smooth and
bright rubbed by the hands of the many generations
that had run up and down these primitive ways.
O’Connoll told me that tradition states that the
Castle was originally built by the Irish for the Danes,
who seemed to have exacted forced labour from.
the half-clad barbarians before Ireland was fully
Christianised. The story whispered by the country
folk declares that the mortar used in its construction
was made in ta great measure with human blood
and human hair, and that therefore it has withstood
the ravages of time. Somewhere about the year
800, the Irish, under the leadership of a chieftain
named O’Connoll, rose against their oppressors, and
took possession of the Castle, where O’Connoll
established himself, and soon became a power-
ful prince. His descendants inhabited this Castle—
whether the original building or a more modern one,
built of the materials and on the site of the old one,
history does not reveal—and, until the advent of the


The House of I-lorror 43
English in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, this
stronghold was considered impregnable.
Amongst the first of the English adventurers was
a young squire—son of an English knight—who
hoped to win his spurs at the expense of the wild
Irish. The expedition he was attached to, attracted
by the rumour of O’Connoll’s riches, besieged the
Castle, and in a sortie, which the defenders made,
the squire was taken prisoner. He was confined
in a little room off one of the staircases, and as all
the Irish were very busy defending the Castle, the
only daughter of the house, one Finnueguolla
O’Connoll, was deputed to push what food they
allowed the prisoner through a little hole in the
walls of his dungeon. '
The Englishman made the best use of his oppor-
tunity, and by judiciously tender speeches he suc-
ceeded in winning the maiden so completely to his
side that one day, with a view to abetting his escape,
she procured the key of the prison and lethim out.
As he was running down the twisting staircase he
met young O’Connoll, the girl’s only brother, coming
up. He immediately raised a hue and cry. The
escaping prisoner turned and fled upward, eventually
coming out on to the battlements of the tower.
Seeing that flight any other way was impossible,
and preferring the risk of sudden death to the more
lingering one his _attempted escape would ensure
him were he to be: recaptured, he gave a mighty
jump over the parapet and managed to find refuge,
and not death, in the branches of a yew tree growing
near the walls, and in the end safely reached his
countrymen.


44 The White Ghost Book
Eventually, his rather treacherous lover betrayed
the Castle to the English. Its occupants were then all
hanged in a field—called to this day “ The Hangman’s
Field ”—and the English squire married Finnue-
guolla, taking her name and the lands of herfather
by right of marriage and conquest.
Their son, Maurice O’Connoll, was one of the first
high sheriffs appointed in Ireland, and his tomb,
dated 1601, is still to be seen in the little churchyard
near Kilman.
The tower had originally five floors or storeys;
of these three exist—the first, a big bricked-up room,
under the present hall; then the hall itself; and
at the top of the tower a large chapel, with a fine
east window and stone altar.
Besides the bricked-up room, there are under the
hall dungeons hollowed out of the rock itself, with
no windows or communication to the outer air,
some of which O’Connoll now used as wine cellars.
In a corner of the chapel at the top of the tower
is an oubliette, where disagreeable strangers were
invited to walk down two steps on to a hinged plat-
form that let them fall below the level of the deepest
dungeon, where pointed stakes helped to‘ give them
a quick journey to the next world.
“ A couple of cartloads of old bones and bone
dust were cleared out of that,” my host told me,
“ and buried with due ceremony in the churchyard
by some superstitious old ancestor of mine. Amongst
others who were said to have been thrown down there
was a priest, the brother of a far-back O’Connoll, who
I offended the reigning head of the family by beginning
Mass here one day without him.


The House of Horror 45
“That particular prince was a beauty. One of
his little games was getting a hundred and fifty
mercenaries to help him fight the English, and when
the enemy were beaten off, to avoid paying his hired
friends he treated them all to a poisoned feast in
the hall here, and killed the whole lot!
“ See these skulls and bits of bones ? They came
out of the wall when we made a new window. The
idea is that when this place was besieged, the garrison
had no way of burying their dead, so they cemented
the bodies up in the walls. That’s one explanation ;
the other is the twopenny coloured ‘ walled-up-alive ’
business. You can pay your money and take your
choice. Here, anyhow, are the skulls and bones that
came out of the wall; I don’t trouble my head how
they got in there.”
This rambling description will, I hope, give some
idea of the environment of this story, and form the
outlines of a mental picture of the quaint old place,
which has been inhabited without a break for at
least a thousand years.
As for the legends and stories belonging to it,
their name is legion—all telling of love, murder, and
rapine, as such medieval traditions are always wont
to run.
III
My first evening at Kilman passed very quickly
and pleasantly. Betty and I yarned over old times
until my host passed from the passive remonstrance
of ill-concealed yawns to more active measures, by
saying, rather sternly:
“ Betty, Kenneth had no sleep last night, so we


46 The White Ghost Book
must pack him off early to-night. It’s getting late
—half-past eleven. There go the dogs!”
As he spoke the baying of many dogs, “ of high
and low degree,” broke into a noisy chorus, rising
to a crescendo of angry fear, and then dying down
into a pianissimo of canine woe.
The big deerhound, Oscar, who was lying on a
sheepskin rug in the hall, added a long, deep note
of misery to the general orchestra.
“ Do these dogs see the moon ? ” I asked. “ What
a curious noise they make ! ”
“ There isn’t a moon to-night,” O’Connoll an-
swered. “ But the dogs here always do that. It’s
one of their little ways that won’t bear explaining.
They mark half-past eleven without fail; we can
set the clocks by them.”
“ Probably some shadow in the trees at that
time,” I hazarded.
“ So I thought, and we shifted them to the other
side of the place, but it was just the same over there.
No, don’t ask Betty about it, or she’ll keep you up
all night telling some cock-and-bull ghost story if
you do. Now, once more will you go to bed, Betty ?
Think of that poor ‘ divil ’ of a maid waiting up for
you all this time ! Have a whisky and soda, Gordon,
before turning in ? ”
Whilst we were consuming the wine of the country
I asked O’Connoll if he knew of any ghost story
connected with the Castle.
He looked at me curiously, and then laughed.
“A ghost? We’ve only a couple of dozen or
more, my dear fellow. But surely you are not
the cut of Spooky Believer? Don’t tell me you ‘


The House of Horror 47
take a ‘ Julia ’ or suchlike familiar about with
you I ”
It was my turn to laugh now.
My host continued:
“ I’ve been here all my life, often quite alone,
and never have I seen what I can’t quite explain
to myself by natural causes—electricity, you know,
and all that. Of course, there are noises enough,
but what old house is free from them ? It’s only
rats in a great measure. What I say is, that the
only spirits about arise from the too liberal con-
sumption of this spirit”—he tapped the tantalus
stand. “ The servants get drinking. We’ve an old
cook now who’d see you under the table, but her
omelettes cover a multitude of sins—and then they
kick up a row themselves, get frightened, swear they
see ghosts, and clear off in a body next day. If
anything makes me really mad, it’s the rot people
talk about spirits and apparitions in this house.”
“ What says Betty to all these things? Does
she listen to such folly ? Of all the women in the
world, one would swear she would not.”
My host pulled angrily at his pipe and enveloped
himself in a cloud of smoke before he replied:
“ She got some idiotic maggot in her brain last
year, and has been as nervous as a cat ever since.
It’s too bad of her ; I did think she had some common
sense—that was why I married her.” This with
sublime disregard of any sentimentality common to
benedicts of some years’ standing. “ Just now she
has been worrying my life out, trying to get me to
go away for this month; it is in November most of
these mysterious follies are said to appear—because


48 The White Ghost Book
the nights are dark, I expect! Betty would die
sooner than go upstairs alone at night. It’s too
provoking of her ; I wish you’d chaff her into common
sense again.”
I did not believe for a minute that Betty was
really nervous. She was certainly playing some
‘deep-laid practical joke upon her husband. I mutely
determined to be wary of turnip-headed bogies and
booby traps, for in the past my cousin had occasionally
indulged in such childish follies.
We went up the broad oaken staircase in one of
the wings, and then along the gallery overlooking
the hall.
A funny little doorway in the wall, about the
height of my shoulders, raised my curiosity, Maurice
O’Connoll, taking advantage of his six feet and odd
inches, pulled it open to show me the winding narrow
staircase it concealed. A rush of cold air nearly put
our lights out, and he hastily pushed the door to,
which seemed very heavy.
“ It’s all iron-plated,” he explained. “In the
rebellion of ’98 the family, and, in fact, all the Pro-
testants of the neighbourhood, took refuge in there.
However, I won’t begin telling you the legends. My
wife is the best to do that; if she does not know
an appropriate story, she invents one on the spot.”
With this parting libel on Betty’s veracity, he
showed me my quarters, and, after seeing I had every-
thing I needed, he wished me good night and departed.
My room was a long narrow one, with a fireplace
across one corner. The floor was of polished poplar,
with a couple of rugs on it. To my delight I saw
that, instead of the ordinary heavy-curtained bed-


The House of Horror 49
stead one would picture as appropriate to the house,
there was one of modern make, with a wire-wove
mattress.
I locked my door as a precautionary measure
against bogies—or practical joking—and began leis-
urely to divest myself of my clothes, when I became
conscious of someone breathing heavily in the room.
“ Hallo! ” I thought. “ Here is a hospitable spook
manifesting at once for the credit of the house.”
Then O’Connoll’s remarks about the servant and
whisky came back to me. Horrors! If it should
be the bibulous cook!
The breathing was now snoring, and came un-
mistakably from under the bed.
Seizing the poker, I gave a vicious sweep with it,
abjuring the snorer to “ come out at once.”
There was a patter of feet, and out crept an
obese and aged fox-terrier of the feminine persuasion,
showing her few remaining front teeth in an apolo-
getic grin, and agitating her minimum of tail with
cringing affability.
As the old lady seemed an amiable specimen of
her race, and apparently had been recently washed
with carbolic soap, I determined to allow her to be
my guest for the night, even if she were self-invited.
So I threw her my rug, which she proceeded to make
into a bed for herself in a corner near the fireplace,
scratching and turning round and round, and finally,
with a grunt of satisfaction, curling into a ball,
watching my toilet operations with brazen effrontery
and ‘wagging her tail whenever she caught my eye.
I placed a box of matches and a candle by my
bedside, and it was not long before I was asleep,
E


50 The White Ghost Book
my last recollection being the sound of the dog’s
stertorous breathing: then a blissful dreamless un-
consciousness came over me.
A cold nose against my cheek, and two long-
nailed fore-paws scratching vigorously to get into
my bed, awakened me quite suddenly, and I found
my friend the fox-terrier standing on my chest,
trembling most violently and whining in a distressed
fashion.
“ You ungrateful little brute I ” I said angrily,
giving her a far from gentle push on to the floor;
but in a second she was up again, doing her best
to get under the bedclothes.
“ Not if I know it,” and again I sent her flying.
The room was quite dark, and as the fire had been
pretty bright when I went to bed, I guessed I had
been sleeping some time.
Thoroughly enraged, when the dog jumped up
for the third time, I threw her roughly down, and
this time I heard her patter under the bed and creep
into the farthest corner, where she sat trembling
so violently that she shook my bed.
By this time I was thoroughly awake, and fearing
I had hurt the dog, I put my hand out of bed, snap-
ping my fingers to call her and make my amende.
My hand was suddenly taken into the grasp of
another hand, a soft, cool hand, at a temperature
perceptibly below my own flesh.
To say I was astonished would but mildly convey
my feelings ! After aIfew seconds of steady pressure
the other hand let go, and almost simultaneously I
heard ‘a heavy sliding fall, like the collapse of a large
body at the foot of the bed. Then in the absolute


The House of Horror 51
stillness of the room there sounded a deep human
groan, and some half-articulated words, or, to be
accurate, prayers.
The voice—if it could be called a voice—died
away into another groan; the dog under my bed
gave a sharp, hoarse bark, and scratched and tore
at the wainscoting. Fully convinced that someone
in trouble of some sort had got access to my room.—
by what method I could not imagine—I struck a
match and lit my candle, springing from the bed
and crying out: “ Who’s there? What is it ? ”
My eyes blinked for a little at the sudden
light, but when they were steady I looked to the
spot where I had heard the groan. There was no
one.
The room was absolutely empty and exactly as
I had left it on going to bed. Nothing was out of
order, nothing was-moved, and there was nothing
I could see to account for the noises I had heard.
To make certain, I tried the door. It was still
locked. I made a tour of inspection round the
walls, which were painted, not papered, examined
all the furniture, and finally, kneeling at the foot
of the bed, held my candle so as to be able to look
underneath.
In the corner crouched the fox-terrier, but there
was nothing else. The polished boards reflected the
light of my candle, and, perfectly mystified, I was
getting up, when I noticed that the hand I had been
resting on the floor was damp.
I held it close to the light, and saw my finger-
tips and the ball of my thumb were rcddened, as
if with blood, and turning back the rug I discovered


52 The White Ghost Book I
a dark stain extending perhaps for two feet one way
and three or four the other. ‘
Instinctively I looked at the ceiling, but its
whitewashed surface showed no corresponding mark.
Nothing had dropped from above. The stain was
damp, not wet, and yet felt warm, as though the
fluid, whatever it was, had been recently spilt. I
examined my finger-tips again. The marks were
very like blood. Bah! I dabbled my hand in the
water in my basin rather hurriedly, then I once
more went carefully round my room.
The shutters were barred, the door was locked,
there was no cupboard in the wall, and the chimney
was still hot from the fire. I tapped the walls care-
fully and could find no indication of any hollow place
that might possibly be a secret door; but, as I did
so, my common sense revolted at my own folly,
they were so innocent of any panellings or dadoes
that could conceal an exit.
If a practical joke had been played upon me,
where had the delinquent vanished to?
' One hypothesis alone was possible, and that I
indignantly rejected, for I knew I was wide awake
in my sober sense, and not the victim of delusion M
or waking nightmare.
For a minute I contemplated writing the whole
thing down, there and then, but the absurdity of
the idea flashed across my mind. I looked at
my watch and found it was nearly three o’clock.
It was better to warm my shivering limbs in bed
than chill myself further by writing what no one
would believe, for, after all, I had seen nothing,
and who would credit groans and whispered words


The House of Horror 53
without one particle of corroborative evidence ? The
fox-terrier’s “ mark ” to the important "document
would not enhance its value in the eyes of the
Psychical Research Society.
So I crept back to my nest, first enticing the dog
from her corner, and in a half-acknowledged wish
for company, even if it was only that of the little
beast, I took her into bed with me.
I left the candle burning for a-short time; then,
as -there were no further noises, I put it out and
prepared once more to woo the drowsy god, and,
falling asleep, was not disturbed again.
Next morning, when I had finished dressing, I
turned back the rug at the foot of the bed, curious
to see what was there. Sure enough, I found the
dark stain, just as I had seen it in the night, with
this difference—it was no longer wet, but appeared
of long standing. _ -
IV
We were to shoot some home coverts that day,
and, besides ourselves, O’Connoll expected six guns,
a few neighbours, and a sprinkling of officers from
the nearest garrison. Betty, too, took me on one
side and told me that her friend of the dimples and
dot was coming, and that I was to be sure and not
let “ dear” Captain Adair monopolise the young
woman’s attention, but that I was to “ go in and
win.” .
Miss Dimples—as I will call the damsel whose
charms Betty had painted in such glowing colours
—arrived, also “ dear ” Captain Adair,‘ a tall, dark
ruffian, who had basely forestalled me by getting the


54 The White Ghost Book
pretty little lady in question to drive him out. I
found this warrior was a universal favourite, O’Con-
noll declaring that he was “ one of the few decent
soldiers ” he knew; whilst Betty—well, Betty was
sickening!
Adair and I were told off to a warm corner, where,
to my great joy, I wiped his eye over a woodcock.
He grassed two longtails that I missed in an un-
accountable manner, but everyone knows that one
woodcock is of more value than many pheasants.
We had a capital day’s sport, plenty of walking,
and a most varied, if not a very big, bag, as there
were birds of all feathers about. As for rabbits,
the whole place walked with them; as one of the
keepers said, they were indeed a “ fright.”
Betty and the Dimpled Damsel lunched with us,
and followed the guns in the afternoon. Miss
Dimples would have none of me, but tripped gaily
after the all—conquering Captain Adair, so Betty
took pity on me.
“Did you sleep all right—really, Kenneth, last
night ? ” Betty asked me anxiously, as we walked
along together.
“ Don’t you think it likely ‘? ” I answered, look-
ing hard at her. “ Of course I did. All the same,
if it is convenient, may I be moved into a room
facing west? My present quarters face east, you
know, and I never sleep really well that way.”
“ Then you did see something,” she said in a low
voice.
“ Not a thing,” I answered cheerfully.
“Don’t try to humbug me, Kenneth; I know
you so well that it is impossible.”


The House of Horror 55
“ Honest Injun, Betty, never one little ghostie
on a postie did I behold.” I spoke laughingly; the
night was far off still. “ But, to be strictly truthful,
I did think I heard a groan or two, and though it
probably was only my fancy, I would much rather
not hear them again! By the way, is there any
story connected with that room—anything to do
with that stain on the floor ? ”
I saw her colour under my watchful eyes.
“ Maurice said nothing to you about it, then ? ”
I shook my head.
“ Well, people have complained before_in fact,
we don’t generally put anyone there now. The room
is called the Muckle or Murder Hole room, and the
story goes that the stain on the floor is the blood
of a man stabbed there by his brother. Two
O’Connolls quarrelled over the ownership of the
Castle, and fought, and the dying brother cursed
the other, praying that no eldest son should inherit
direct from his father. Maurice succeeded his grand-
father, you know; and even he had an elder brother.
I believe the curse has always been fulfilled. The
room had been disused for fifty years or more when
we did it up. The stain has been planed off the
boards several times, but it always comes up—-
creeps up from below in a few hours, no one
knows how. Maurice won’t believe any of these
stories, having heard them all the days of his
life. He declares that one person tells another,
and then, nervous to begin with, of course they
imagine a ghost. So, when you were coming, he
insisted on your being put in there, for he said
you could not be prejudiced by any nonsense, and


56 The White Ghost Book
that we would be able to prove what folly it all
was.”
I do not know that I altogether appreciated
O’Connoll’s kind experiment at my expense. How-
ever, I told Betty he was quite right, as no better
man could be chosen to “lay ” the ghosts.
“ I’ll have you moved to-night,” my cousin con-
tinued. “ Don’t tell me what you saw ”—I made
a movement of protest—“ or heard; for, Kenneth
-don’t laugh at me—though I hate myself for my
folly, I am often more nervous than I can say.”
“ You nervous, Betty! I am ashamed of you!
Why, what has come to you '? ”
She interrupted me quickly:
“ I can’t explain it. The only description which
at all comes near the feeling is somewhere in the
Bible, where it speaks of one’s heart becoming water.
I never felt the least fear when I came here, though,
of course, I heard all kinds of stories, and have had,
all through, endless trouble with servants leaving at
a moment’s notice, frightened into fits. When people
staying here said they saw things, I only laughed,
and declared it was mere nonsense, and though
we’ve always heard quite unexplainable noises, such
as the great chains of the front door being banged on
the staircase and along the gallery, and endless foot-
steps, and sighing, and cries, and rustlings, and taps,
they never frightened me. Even when sudden lights
and tongues of flame and letters of fire on the walls
came many times—both of us saw them, for Maurice
did see them too, though he hates to own it—I was
only curious and annoyed, because I could not explain
it satisfactorily to myself. But, Kenneth, a year ago


The House of Horror 57 ‘
last November I saw IT, and I have never felt the
same about these things since, or ever shall.”
“ November is the height of the season in your
spooks’ society ? ” I asked lightly, trying to cheer
poor, serious Betty.
“ Yes, nearly all the stories are about that month,
though odd spirits appear all through the year. It’s
in November that there is said to be the vision of
a. dead troop of soldiers drilling in the ring.”
“ What are your stock apparitions ? ”
“ There are so many, I don’t remember them
always, but I will try and recall what have been
seen within the last six years. First, of course,
there is a banshee. She sits on the terrace, and keens
for coming deaths in the family. Then there is Earl
Desmond’s ghost, who howls in a chimney, where
he was hiding and got smothered. A monk, with
tonsure and cowl, walks in at one window and out
at another, in the Priest’s House; that is the wing
beyond the Blue Room, where I sleep now. He has
been seen by three people to my own knowledge-
not servants, for, of course, their stories are endless,
and require more than a grain of salt. Then there
is a little old man with green cut-away coat, knee-
breeches, stockings, and bright shoe buckles, holding
a leathern bag in his hand. Quite a dozen people
have seen him. Sometimes he is all alone, sometimes
a little old woman, to match him, is there, with
skinny hands, long black mitts, old-fashioned dress,
and a big head-dress, so they describe her. My
mother saw them; and a third figure, an old man,
dressed like a priest, with an intensely cunning face.
She saw all three together several times.”


58 The White Ghost Book
“ Do these ghosts do any harm or talk to you.
or anything like that Y ”
“ The green old man tries to stop people, but no
one has been brave enough to interview him yet.
Then, inthe Priest’s House, comes a burly man in
rough clothes, like a peasant; he pushes a heavy
barrel up the back stairs of the wing, near the ser-
vants’ bedrooms, and when just at the top the barrel
rolls down—a fearful noise, bump, bump, bump— .
and all disappear.”
I fear I laughed heartily at this inconsequent
ghost; but Betty went on, unmoved:
“ Then there is a woman with very few clothes,
and a red cloth over her face; she screams loudly
twice, and disappears. That is on the same landing
as the barrel man. These have been seen by number-
less servants, and ”
“My dearest Betty, do you mean to say you
believe those old wives’ tales?”
“No, I don’t,” said Betty candidly. “ I don’t
mind about these one bit. I tell you of them only
because I am trying to give a full catalogue of all
who have been said to appear in my married life
here.”
“ Go on, my dear.”
“ Then,” resumed Betty, “ there is a tall dark
woman in the historical scarlet silk dress that rustles.
She haunts the Blue Room, which used always to be
the nursery, and sobs at the foot of the children’s
beds. My last nurse and two or three of the maids
have seen her. Her story is that she was a poor
soul one of the O’Connolls kidnapped, and she had
an infant soon after she was brought into the Castle,


The House of Horror 59
which O’Connoll threatened to kill if she would not
marry him, and when she had yielded to him he
stabbed the child before her eyes, saying she could
not look after him and the baby at the same time.
They found her dead next day, having killed herself
with the knife that slew her child.”
“ What nice, cheerful little ways the O’Connolls
seem to have had ! ”
“ They were simply robber chieftains, and robbed
and murdered without compunction,” said Betty.
“ Then there is a scene on the gallery, seen once in
my day, and several times in past generations.
Some time in back ages there was a beautiful girl
two of the O’Connoll men were attached to. Both
often tried to abduct her—one at last was successful.
The other brother, returning angry and disappointed
to the Castle, found the girl was already within its
walls. A violent quarrel ensued between the two
men, in the middle of which the girl escaped from
the room in which all three were, and ran shrieking
along the gallery. ‘ Let him who catches her keep
her,’ shouted one man, as they bothfstarted in
pursuit. The original abductor caught her first, and
with a cry of triumph lifted her in his arms.
“ ‘ Keep her, then! ’ cried the brother; but as
he spoke he ran his sword twice through her back
and killed her. The whole scene is re-enacted in
the gallery.”
Betty related this pleasing legend with much
spirit.
“ Oh, Betty,” I cried, “ do say there is a blue
light. That story is nothing without a blue light.”
“ I don’t know if the light is blue,” she answered


60 The White Ghost Book
simply._ “ But the keep is lighted up, when this
apparition is seen, for a minute. When the girl is
killed everything disappears. I have seen the keep
lighted up myself--once.”
“ How ? When ? And where ? ”
“ Driving home from a day’s hunting at the
other end of the county—two girls who were stay-
ing here and myself. We were very late, and it
was so dark I had to walk the horse up the avenue.
When within sight of the Castle I could see the
yellow light of the lamps shining through the cracks
of the shutters in the wing and from the hall. Of
course, as it always is, the rest of the tower was in
darkness. Quite suddenly there was a brilliant
stream of white light from all the windows and arrow-
slits in the keep—from the big chapel windows and
all. I had just time to exclaim, ‘ Oh! look at the
light 1 ’ when it went out just as suddenly as it started
shining.”
“ Someone taking a_look round the place with
a torch or something,” I hazarded.
“ No one would venture up the winding stairs
to the chapel at that hour, I can tell you! Besides,
I know no earthly light but electricity that could
produce the strong glare I saw.”
“ A sudden flash of lightning probably.”
“Oh, I never expect anyone to believe it. 1'
saw it—that is all I know.”
“ You tried to find out an explanation ? ”
“ Of course I did,” replied my cousin crossly.
“ Do you think I like having that kind of thing
happen in a place I am to live in for the rest of my
natural life, and my children after me ? There,


The House of Horror 61
Kenneth, I did not mean to snap at you,” she added
penitently. “ But when people talk as if they
thought one went out of one’s way to invent the
very things which make life a burden, I do get
annoyed. I never tell people these stories now,
because they simply don’t believe one; or, if they
do, write one down a weak-minded, self-deceptive,
backboneless idiot.”
“ Betty, you know that I—-—”
“ You are ‘ Kenneth ’ and not ‘ people.’ But
to hark back to the ghostly inventory. There is
something heavy that lies on people’s beds, and
snores, and they feel the weight of a great body
pressing against them, in a room in the Priest’s
House, but see nothing. No one to my knowledge
has seen whatever does this, only heard and felt it.
Then there is something that very young children
and cats and dogs see, but no one else. Fortunately,
as the children grow out of babyhood they seem
to lose the power of seeing this thing. My babies
saw it when they were too young to talk, and were
sent precious nearly into convulsions. My cats go
quite cracked, spit, claw, and run up the curtains;
and the dogs—oh! it was only a day or two before
you came that Maurice and I were in the smoking-
room with four or five dogs, when, without rhyme
or reason, they all dashed into the hall, barking
furiously. Then, just as quickly they dashed back
again, their coats bristling, their tails tucked between
.their legs, the picture of fright—old Oscar as bad
as any of them. Maurice ran out, but could see
nothing uncanny, yet no amount of driving or coax-
ing would bring the dogs out again; they crawled


62 The White Ghost Book
under chairs and sofas, shivering, and refused to
budge.”
“ Could your husband make it out ? ”
“ Not a bit. That last often happens. Those
are all the ghosts I can remember in the house-
except IT. But outside they swarm. Really I am
not surprised, for the whole neighbourhood was a
veritable Armageddon. We cannot plough any-
where near without turning up skulls galore.
“ Why don’t you let the place to the Psychical
Research people?” I suggested. “ With such a
delightful assortment of ghosts ‘ on tap,’ they would
be charmed to take it.”
“ I only wish Maurice would,” said Betty, “ or
get someone to come here and investigate. But,
like all Irishmen, he adores every stone and blade
of grass that belongs to him, and he won’t hear of
the place being uncanny in any way. Once a friend
wanted to send a parson with book, bell, and candle
to ‘ lay ’ a ghost she saw, and Maurice was furious ;
and when I suggested inviting a man I know, who
is very clever at probing into those kind of things,
he would not hear of it. He gets so angry with the
country folk when they refuse to come here after
nightfall and say that the place is ‘dark,’ meaning
bad. As for me, he thinks I am rapidly becoming fit
for the nearest idiot asylum, because I am in such
deadly terror of seeing IT again.”
“ Would you mind telling me what you saw
yourself, Betty? O’Connoll told me you had had,
a frigh .” '
“ I’ll tell you if you like, Kenneth; but of course
"ou will find some plausible and utterly impossible


The House of Horror 63
‘ natural’ explanation for it. Maurice says vaguely
‘it was after dinner,’ which is extra rude, for I am,
and always have been, strictly blue ribbon. Still,
here are the facts. Remember, I do not expect you
to credit one word.
“ We had a party for shooting here last Novem-
ber, among others my sister Grace and one of my
brothers—dear old Ted, you know. Well, we had
tramped with the men all day, so we were all tired
and turned up to bed early. I went the round
of the girls’ rooms, then got into my dressing-gown
and had my hair brushed; after that I sent my maid
off to bed. Maurice and I were the only inhabitants of
the Red Wing, next the room you slept in last night ;
no one else that side of the tower. I heard a noise
in the hall, so went out on to the landing and along
the gallery and looked over. There I saw Maurice
putting out the lamps himself. He had a lighted
candle in his hand, and was evidently just coming
up to bed. \
“ ‘ Maurice,’ I called to him, ‘ will you bring me
the last Contemporary Review out of the drawing-
room, please ? I want to read an article in it.’
“ ‘ All right,’ he called back ; ‘ I am just coming
up to bed.’
“ He left one lamp burning and went through
into the drawing-room whilst I, leaning my elbows
on the corner of the gallery balustrade, waited for
Maurice to reappear. I recollect I was wondering
what kind of sport I should have the next day,
when I was going to hunt with Mr. Blakeney.
“ Suddenly two hands were laid on my shoulders.
I turned round sharply, and saw, as clearly as I see


64 The White Ghost Book
you now, a grey ‘ Thing,’ standing a couple of feet
from me, with its bent arms raised, as if it were
cursing me. I cannot describe in words how utterly
awful the ‘ Thing ’ was, its very undefinableness
rendering the horrible shadow more gruesome. Human
in shape, a little shorter than I am, I could just make
out the shape of big, black holes, like great eyes and
sharp features; but the whole figure—head, face,
hands, and all—was grey; unclean, bluish-grey;
something of the colour and appearance of common
cotton wool. But, oh! so sinister, repulsive, and
devilish! My friends who are clever about occult
things say it is what they call an ‘ Elemental.’
“ My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, and
I felt every hair on my head separate and move.
Then the spell was broken.
“ I wheeled round—fortunately outwards—on to
the open gallery, and with something—not myself-—
in my throat that shrieked continuously, I tore
along the passage, down the stairs, through the
corridor into the Priest’s House, where my sister
was sleeping. Once in her room I nearly fainted;
but, pulling myself together, I managed to make
my husband and brother—who, hearing the shrieks,
had flown to the rescue—undcrstand that there was
a ‘ Thing ’ in the gallery, which had frightened me.
They ran up together and searched carefully; but
though they hunted up and down, they found nothing,
My brother just saw IT for one second, and you
know he died. It is said to be a very bad sign of
one’s luck to see IT.”
Betty paused to wipe her eyes for a minute, then
resumed:


The House of Horror 65
“ I soon got all right, though my teeth would not
stop chattering for half an hour, and I told them
quietly what I had seen. Maurice was dreadfully
frightened at the time; but now he declares I am
hysterical, and that a cat jumped on my back.”
Betty had grown quite white as she related her
adventure, but managed a smile as she said the
word “ hysterical.”
“ It must have been a trick, Betty!”
“ Who could have played it on me, or who would
be in that part of the house? I grant it is possible
some unknown enemy conceived the excellent plan
of trying to frighten my few remaining wits away,
but it’s not very probable; and I who saw IT-—
Oh! but what’s the good of talking? I should
like to explain it to my own satisfaction, but I can’t.
One thing I know, if ever I meet IT again I shall
go stark, staring mad or die the very minute. Having
no ambitions for Bedlam, I take every precaution
to prevent such a fate overtaking me. I have for-
saken that wing of the house, leaving those rooms
for strong-minded people like you. Also I make
my maid sit in my room now until Maurice goes to
his dressing-room. There, Kenneth, I have told you,
and doubtless you think me an infinite fool—but,
oh, Kenneth, if you had only seen IT!”
“Be assured, Betty, if I do, I will put a A50
revolver bullet into the cotton wool, and make the
funny joker’s inside sorry for itself. That is all I
can say.” And I meant it.
Our talk drifted into other channels, and by the
time the gathering twilight sent us indoors to tea
and hot cakes I was no longer thinking of the galaxy
F


66 The White Ghost Book
of ghosts that my cousin had trotted out for my
benefit.
Betty and “ dear ” Captain Adair, who was staying
the night at the Castle, sat after tea on the fender stool
in front of the cheerful turf fire, gossiping lazily,
so Miss Dimples had perforce, in default of better
game, to pay a little attention to me, and by the
time the dressing-gong sounded we were discussing
mutual affinities, having reached this interesting
conversational point by the chromatic scale of
dancing, hunting, shooting, plays, books, religious
beliefs (Miss Dimples would have been an aggressive
agnostic had she known how), first impressions,
telepathy, and palmistry (Miss Dimples told my
fortune, making an amusing record founded upon
the romances of a well-known military novel writer),
then to affinities; we agreed that the topic was not
properly “ threshed out,” and should be “ continued
in our next.”
I had been shifted, I found, on going up to dress,
into a room next the Murder Hole chamber, and
thought my new, bright, big quarters a distinct
improvement. The floor was carpeted and looked
respectable and comfortable, and not suggestive of
bloodstains and murders. I looked forward to a
real sound sleep that night.
We spent a merry evening. Captain Adair, who
was staying the night, sang us comic songs until we
ached with laughter, and Miss Dimples, smiling and
fascinating, completed my subjection. Alas! I am
not the owner, or ever likely to be, of those dimples
and that dot.
After dinner we went out in a body to catch the


The House of Horror 67
half-past eleven ghost and to time the dogs. When
we first neared the kennels there was a great deal
of pleased sniffing and whining from the dogs, but,
to the second correct, the wild howling began.
None of us could see what started the chorus,
so that mystery remained unsolved, though we each
tried our best to find plausible theories. After many
songs, and when the ladies had gone to bed, came
whisky—-—shouting choruses is apt to make one
thirsty. Then we turned iupstairs to our respec-
tive rooms, my little friend, the fox-terrier, whose
name I found to be “ Nell,” accompanying me
again.
Tired out after a strenuous day, I was soon asleep,
and knew nothing from the time my head was on
the pillow until the servant brought my bath-water
next morning.
V
Miss Dimples was- a laggard at breakfast. Betty
was just going in search of her when the door opened,
and she came in. Her pretty rosy cheeks had lost
their colour, and she looked quite pale and tired,
as if she had not slept.
“ What have you been doing ? ” O’Connoll asked,
with much severity. “ Reading a trashy modern
novel in bed—eh, young lady ? Or, like that sensible
wife of mine, interviewing a ghost ? ”
No one could accuse Miss Dimples of being pale
now; she flushed painfully, a vivid scarlet.
Betty looked at her with troubled eyes, and
O’Connoll, seeing the effect of his jesting words,
frowned wrathfully. I threw myself into the breach,


68 The White Ghost Book
talking fast and intentionally in a loud voice to
my host as to the day’s prospects.
When O’Connoll, taking Adair with him, had
departed after breakfast to consult with his steward
—a ubiquitous treasure, whose duties ranged be-
tween buying the babies’ boots and arranging the
various sh0ots—Miss Dimples, with many more
blushes, broke the sad fact to her hostess that she
was recalled home.
I was sorry for the poor child, for she was in an
agony between inventing a specious lie and not
seeming in unseemly haste to quit her friend’s roof.
“ I am so sorry to go, dear Madam O’Connoll,”
she said, with tell-tale flaming cheeks, “ but I got a
letter from mother this morning saying she is not
very well, and that she wants me to come home.”
Betty did not believe this story—nor did I; and
as a very strong motive was evidently behind the
girl’s many excuses, I resolved to try and extract
the truth.
It was arranged that Miss Dimples should depart
after lunch, and Betty, jingling a huge bunch of keys
in a workmanlike fashion, started “housekeeping,”
telling her friend to amuse me for half an hour.
“ You’ve been telling terrible tarradiddles, Miss
Dimples,” I said reprovingly when we were alone,
shaking a reproachful finger at the fair sinner. “ You
never had any letter this morning, but a very obvious
bill forwarded on to you. I particularly noticed the
blue envelope lying in solitary grandeur on your
plate.” I
“ If you did notice, you shouldn’t have, and you
are horribly rude to tell me to my face I tell stories.


The House of Horror 69
Those are Indian manners, I presume; now, dear
Captain Adair ”
Miss Dimples pouted in a provokingly charming
manner at me.
“ We are not talking of Captain Adair, da I
should say, bless him ! ” I interrupted austerely.
“ But are discussing the infamous conduct of a little
lady who, having told several very inartistic fibs
within the last five minutes—by the clock—now
refuses to confess and receive absolution.”
“Certainly I refuse, with such a Father Con-
fessor I ”
“ You will not find a more sympathetic one in all
Ireland, including its garrison towns ! ”
An alarming glare from two heavily curtained
eyes made me hasten to add:
“ See—I am quite in the right attitude.” I
sank on my knees, with my hands clasped. “ Now,
fair ladye, in your mercy tell your devoted knight
what wicked monster disturbed your rest, that I
may rend it limb from limb ! ”
“ I wish you could,” she answered with a fright-
ened glance round. Then in more natural tones:
“ D0 get up—don’t be so silly! What would the
O’Connoll think if he came in ? Don’t be so silly! ”
“ People might imagine I was laying my heart
at your feet. Shall I ? ”
“ My shooting-boots might hurt the valuable
article.” She placed en évidence an absurd travesty
of a “broad-soled” boot. I could have held the
two on one hand. “ There--the lace IS untied!
As you are in a convenient position, will you tie it
for me, please, Captain Gordon ? ”


76 The White Ghost Book
“ If I tie it so that it won’t come undone again
all day, will you tell me ? ”
The “ shooting-boot” was in my possession, so
I was not adverse to parleying with the enemy.
“ Will I tell you what ? ”
“ All about everything ! ”
“ What do you mean ? You make me shudder
with your sweeping questions. Good gracious, no ! ”
“ Then I shall unlace your boot.”
I began to carry out my threat.
“ You are horrid! Do it up again at once, and
when it’s quite done, I might begin to think of telling
you something.”
Philandering over a minute shooting-boot is very
pleasant, but it was not business in this case, so with
a smothered sigh I repaired the damage and released
the hostage, which disappeared to join its fellow
under the leather-bound checkerboard skirt Miss
Dimples wore as appropriate to sport.
“ Now sit down—no, not here—over in that
chair. Well, first you must swear by—by your spurs,
not to tell the O’Connoll.”
“ I swear it.”
“ Or ever in a horrid club smoking-room.”
“ I never enter such places; my mamma does
not like me to.”
“ Or ever to tell Madam O’Connoll.”
“ May not Betty know ? ”
“ Certainly not. It’s bad enough my having to
be as rude as I am in flying off like this, without my
adding insult to injury by telling some stupid story
about the house.”
“ So be it; I won’t tell Betty, then--just yet.”


The House of Horror 71
“ I went up to bed, you know; you gave me my
candlestick. By the way, I believe you made my
fingers black and blue.” She critically examined
her plump little digits. Miss Dimples runs to
entrancing hollows, even in her hands. “ No, stay
where you are—you need not look at them, thank
you. Only be more careful next time you hand a
person a candlestick. Well, we talked a little, and
brushed our hair, and drank some tea ”
“ Do women drink tea at that hour ? What
horrible depravity ! ”
“ You men drink whisky, which is worse. Now,
if you interrupt me ever again I shall stop altogether
—so there! Well, I went to bed, as I said before;
my room is called the Clock Room, and it is in the
Priest’s House. I locked my door quite securely,
but I could not sleep for ages—not a wink, though
I was dreadfully tired from that awful tramp, and
my poor feet”—here the “Number Two” shooting-
boots peeped out pathetically to emphasise her
remarks—“ simply ached. I heard all you men go
to bed—a nice row you made! Then I heard the
servants go past, making those elaborate efforts to
walk softly which result in twice the noise of ordinary
footsteps. Then I tried counting, but that woke
me up all the more. At last I composed two new
frocks, and the mental effort did make me drowsy,
so I tried to recollect Dr. Monaghan’s sermon—I was
in Ballykinkope last Sunday—and that put me off
in a few seconds.”
“ But, Miss Dimples, with your anti-religious
convictions, do you go to church?”
“ Of course I do. One must give whatever Pro-


72 The White Ghost Book
testant tenants one has a good example! Besides,
at home I play the organ, and it’s such fun com-
posing the voluntaries. You can’t think what a
beauty ‘ The Absent-minded Beggar ’ makes.” She
laughed merrily. .
“ Now don’t interrupt me any more, or I truly
will stop. Just as I was dozing off, great heavy
footsteps coming up the stairs woke me up again,
heavy steps like a big labourer with clodhopping
boots would make. I listened, thinking I was safe,
as my door was locked, and wondering who it could
be. The footsteps came along the corridor and
stopped at my door for a second, and then came
on right into my room, as if no door was there at
all! I can swear the door never opened, but the
footsteps came right on through! It sounds very
mad, I know, but it’s truly true, Captain Gordon.
The footsteps went about the room for several min-
utes, and I nearly died of fright. I kept my eyes
tight closed, afraid I might see something and
expire; or, worse still, my hair turn white in a
single night! However, at last I could not bear
the horrible idea of this thing walking about un-
hindered, and I got strength to open first one eye
a teeny, weeny bit, and then both. It was quite
light in the room, the turf of my fire having fallen
in and burnt brightly.
“Well, I looked about, but could see nothing,
yet all the time the heavy footsteps went on across
the room, to the wardrobe and back to the fireplace
—the very boards creaking under the weight of-—
nothing I could see! At last, to my horror, the
footsteps came over to the foot of my bed, and the


The House of Horror 73
ghost—yes, it must have been a ghost, I am posi-
tively certain—sat down plump on the edge of the
bed, almost on to my toes. It is a great, big, heavy
ghost too, for it made all the springs rattle. Fortu-
nately, the bed in that .room is very br0ad—one of
those great, spreading, hospitable beds, you know;
and I was lying away from the ghost, with only my
feet over to its side; so gradually drawing my toes
up—Heaven knows how I had courage—I crept
softly out on the other side, and along the floor on
my hands and knees, into the corner behind my
bath. The big felt mat the maid spreads for me to
stand on was folded up there, and I wrapped myself
up in it. There I sat all night, shivering with cold
and fright, whilst that horrible great, big pig of a
ghost lay on my bed and snored and snorted most
comfortably. You may laugh, Captain Gordon; I
only hope it will go to you to-night. I did not
feel in the least like laughing, I can assure you.
When the morning came and it grew light enough
to see, I looked over to the bed, fully expecting to
see some hideous monster lying there; yet there
wasn’t a thing. My door was locked just as I had
locked it; but on the second pillow—the one I
had not used at all—was the impression of a heavy
head, and all along the eider-down quilt there was
the mark where the huge, long ghost had lain. I
would not sleep another hour in this house—no,
not for a million pounds!
“ It’s not at all kind of you to jeer at me, Captain
Gordon, for I am quite in earnest; and really and
truly, I was utterly unnerved and never so ffightened
before in all my life.”


74 The White Ghost Book
I did my best to comfort the poor little girl, who,
evidently enough, had imagined an exceedingly
alarming experience, which, whether bred in her own
nerves or caused by some spiteful sprite, had suc-
ceeded in making her pass a very miserable night.
She was quite shaken, and had only just escaped
a bad cold as the result of her night out of bed,
and was not at all fit for the fourteen Irish miles
she must drive before she got to her own home;
but in vain did I urge her to delay her going until
the next day. She was stubbornness itself, and as
the very suggestion of spending another night in
Kilman seemed to give her pain, I refrained from
further pressing, and led our conversation into
lighter, less nightmarish channels.
O’Connoll and Adair joined us after a bit, and
then Betty, with a cloth cap over her eyes and a
light 20-bore in her hands.
“ I’m one of the guns to-day,” she announced
airily.
“ No, you don’t, Betty,” replied her husband.
“ I’m not going to have murder committed on my
land, if I can help it. Put that pop—gun away, if
you are coming with us. If you must shoot to-day,
you may go by yourself—not with the rest of us,
if I know it.”
“ Oh, Maurice ! ”
“ It’s no good, my dear. Didn’t you take the
toe off my boot a few weeks ago, shooting rabbits
out of the oats ? ”
“ The shot did not go within a yard of your boots,
you teasing storyteller.”
“ Quite near enough to ruin my nerve for the


The House of Horror 75
rest of the day, anyhow. Here, put up that gun,
like a good girl, and help beat to-day. Betty always
thinks if she taps an occasional tree she is doinfk'
wonders. You’d shoot a beater for a moral cer-
tainty, and times are too bad now for me to be
able to afford you ‘ big game.’ ”
“ I’ve been out dozens of times,” his wife replied,
with an injured air, “ and wiped your eye before
now.”
“ I dare say,” said her husband dryly. “ I’ve
had many marvellous escapes, I will own. But since
the corn-cutting—no, thank you. ‘ Once bitten,
twice shy.’ ”
“ Very well,” said Betty, resigning her gun. “ I
will beat to-day; but to-morrow, Kenneth, you
and I will go out together, and you will see what
sport we will have.”
“ If women must shoot,” remarked O’Connoll
dictatorially, “ and nowadays they are not happy
unless they do everything we do, and lots of things
we would be ashamed to do—then let them make up
their own parties and shoot each other. There are
plenty of superfluous women about.”
Miss Dimples rose immediately to his insulting
bait.
“ You men are just jealous,” she declared. “ You
know, O’Connoll, your wife is a capital shot! Of
course, we women do everything better than you
men; and in shooting we score because we have not
sat up half the night making our hands shaky with
whisky.”
“ What about tea ? ” I began, but a fiery glance
quelled me.


76 The White Ghost Book
“ I’ve known some pretty shots amongst ladies,”
said the diplomatic Captain Adair.
“ My sister is a first-class shot,” Betty remarked ;
“ much better than I am. How we laughed at her
this summer, though! We used to go out with a
little repeating rifle, stalking rabbits, and at first
she would start out with a silk-lined skirt and frou-
frouey petticoats, that the rabbits could hear rustling
a mile off. But plenty of women shoot now—and
well too. There’s Lady Garry Owen, who is a.
champion at woodcock; and Lady East Riding
knocks all down before her. And do you remember
the American widow at the Chenistown shoot last
year, Maurice ? She showed you men the way.”
“ With a huge cigar for ever in her mouth, and
the tightest of tight rationals on. I should just like
to see you doing it, Betty.” O’Connoll laughed at
the recollection of the transatlantic dame. “ Well,
come along; here are the others—-—we must hurry up.”
The morning’s sport was as varied and excellent
as the shooting of the day before. The pheasants
were nearly all wild birds, and were mighty strong
on the wing. Besides pheasants, we massacred a
few snipe and many woodcock ; also the usual
plethora of bunnies. Hares we saw, but O’Connoll
preserves them strictly for Mr. Blakeney’s sporting
pack of harriers which hunt in the neighbourhood.
Betty promised me a day with them.
After lunch came a tender parting with Miss
Dimples. She was kind enough to express a hope
we might meet again, and murmured comforting
assurances that she would keep me some dances
at a ball, coming off within the next ten days.


The House of Horror 77
I never knew if Miss Dimples did keep those
dances for me! Anyhow, I fear that lucky beggar,
Adair, got the benefit of them, for events crowded,
and sent me back across the silver streak long before
the ball came off.
VI
Adair left Kilman after dinner that night.
He came into my room, when I was changing my
shooting things, and began to chat.
“ What a rummy old place this is!” he volun-
teered. “ You never were here before, were you ?
There are no end of stories going round about ghosts,
you know. Not that I believe in such yarns—do
you T ”
“ You never found a moderately old place people
did not say was haunted ; and as Kilman is immoder-
ately old, of course they are bound to call it so,”
I answered sententiously.
“ Yes; but sometimes you do hear most un-
explainable rows here. Why, only last night, I’d
have sworn someone was singing in a big cupboard
there is in the room I was given.”
“ Practical joking, I should say.”
“ I don’t know how it was done, all the same, as
I searched the beastly place out several times; but
no sooner did I get to bed again than the infernal
music began once more.”
“ It’s to be hoped your visitor had a pleasing
voice,” I laughed, at his injured tone.
“ The song, if I could call it a song, was word-
less—all a jumble of vowels, sung on a succession
of minor notes, always ending in a particularly


78 The White Ghost Book
piercing tone that gave me a pain behind my eyes,
and made me want to sit up and howl like a dog. I
feel sure those poor brutes last night heard the
same thing when they yelped. Oh! of course, it’s
all rot. I dare say I dreamt it; but I thought I,’d
ask you if you had dreamt it too. One doesn’t
like to ask O’Connoll about the matter, for, though
he is the best of good chaps, yet he’s a bit touchy
on that point. I remember once he was very near
knocking my head off because I hinted at something
being wrong in another room I was then in.”
I assured Adair I had not had “ the mysterious
minstrels ” in my room, and asked for particulars
of his other experiences.
“ Mind you,” he began, “ I don’t believe in
ghosts, not for a second; yet it is funny, I must
own. What happened before ? Oh ! nothing much ;
only every time I got into bed I was rolled out again.
Mind you, I saw nothing, though I looked pretty
smartly, I can tell you—with a candle in one hand
and revolver in the other; only, as I told you, no
sooner did I lie down again than the mattress humped
itself up and threw me.”
“ A bucking mattress is a new and added terror
to the history of ghostology.”
“ I pulled the bally old bed to bits, and at last
yanked it all out on to the floor, where I slept in
a heap. The man who called me thought me quite
mad or very drunk. However, I told him I could
not sleep any other way, and cleared that day.
O’Connoll would not believe a word of the matter
—of course, he did not tell me in so many words—
but he laughed and patted me on the back, and


The House of Horror 79
advised me to have four, instead of three, fingers
of whisky next time, and then I would sleep better.
Madam O’Connoll laughed too, but promised she
would never put me in that room again—and never
has. All the talk of spirits is folly; but this is a
very rummy place, there’s no doubt about that ! ”
With this he left me, and when he had gone I
regretted that I had not asked him if, by any chance,
it was in the room I was now in he had been so
rudely disturbed; but my mattress, as I punched
it, seemed incapable of any such Buffalo Bill tricks.
When Adair had departed after dinner we talked
shooting.‘ I told shikari tales and romanced over
the tigers I had nobbled, giving the full account, from
start to finish, of the exciting sport I had had with the
late owners of two fine pelts I was giving to my
cousin.
Half-past eleven came and went, heralded as
before by the dogs; but in going over the stories of
past hunts and big shoots we took no heed of time.
It was past twelve when Betty left us, and nearly
one 0’clock before we thought of turning in.
O’Connoll rang up a servant and asked him if
the house was shut up and the household gone to
bed.
“ They have,” said the man.
“ Then you can go too; I will put out the hall
lamp,” answered his master. “ Now, Gordon, we’ll
have one more drink, and then make for bed.”
We walked into the hall, and O’Connoll showed
me the old-fashioned locks and heavy chains that
barred the doors, I mentally wondering how these
chains riould be taken from their staples and dragged


86 The White Ghost Book
and rattled upstairs in the way Betty had described.
Then he put out the lamps, and with “ Nell,” the
fox-terrier, at my heels, and a favourite cat of his
following him, we walked upstairs.
He saw me into my room, gave my fire a poke
and made it up, then, wishing me good night, walked
across the gallery to his dressing-room, and I heard
him open and shut the door.
Left for the night, my first action, as it always
is, was to lock my door. Then I put a candle and
matches near my bed, and prepared to make my
little friend “ Nell” a comfortable corner.
The dog and I had grown allies. Betty said she
was quite jealous, for “ Nell” was a faithful old
lady, who did not generally admit new loves into her
doggie heart.
. “ It’s one of Betty’s tests with new people,”
O’Connoll told me. “ If ‘ Nell’ does not growl at
them, they are all right; if she does, nothing will
persuade Betty that they are not burglars in dis-
guise, and she will have nothing to say to them.”
I threw my rug down again to-night for “ Nell,”
who sat in front of the genial blaze and turned her
damp nose up to me in the trustful way that dogs
have.
Wheeling a low, roomy arm-chair into a good
position for the light of the lamp to fall on my paper,
I got my writing-book, and with my legs each side
of the fireplace, began to write some ‘letters which
it was absolutely necessary should leave by the
next day’s mail. Up to the present I had really no
time for writing, but now it was business, and had
to be done.



F/eher Jloss
By kz'nd permz'ssz'onI of Lord Hz'zh.-ax azd Illr.
Who IS the Ghost?
born at Temple l\’e\'s'1m.
“ untouched ”
The
The room in which Darnlev w





The House of Horror 8r
My first letter was to a firm of naturalists, who
were setting up some markhor heads and bighorns
for me, telling them to send two good specimens
and a couple of tiger skins on to Kilman; next I
wrote to my gunmakers about an Express rifle I
was in treaty for.
Pausing only to light my pipe-——I can never get
my ideas to run straight without the aid of my old
briar—I began a long and rather intricate letter
to my lawyer about a monetary matter that had
been giving me a great deal of bother lately.
Stooping to replenish the fire—the one drawback
to these delightful turf fires is the constant need
there is of putting on fresh sods—I looked down to
see where the dog was, for I missed her from my
feet.
“ Nell” had disappeared. ‘
I whistled softly and snapped my fingers. A
faint tip, tip, tip, tip of a wagging tail told me her
whereabouts. The fox-terrier had hidden under an
old secretaire in the corner, and had no intention of
coming out. I called her repeatedly, with no result.
“Don’t be such a little fool,” I said crossly,
kneeling down and pulling her out by the scruff of
her neck. “ You are not going to begin fresh pranks,
I trust.”
“Nell’s” big brown humid eyes looked wist-
fully into mine, but the moment I relaxed my hold
she attempted to creep back under the secretaire
again. However, I prevented her, and carried her
to the bed I had made for her by the fire.
Then I was just settling down to my writing again,
when a scratching at the door caught my attention.
G
4


82 The White Ghost Book
I looked up to listen ; the terrier gave a veritable
scream of terror.
The dog was sitting bolt upright on the rug, every
hair of her coat bristling roughly, her lips drawn up,
showing her brown old teeth, her ears laid flat back
to her skull, her eyes fixed on the door, trembling
with the same painful rigors of the night she had
first been my companion. .
The noise at the door continued. At first I
fancied some cat or dog was trying to get in, but
then I noticed that the scratching kept up a kind
of time—one, two; one, two, three; one, two;
one, two, three.
I set my teeth. The unknown exponent of the
art of practical joking at Kilman had chosen the
wrong time for a display of his pranks.
He was safer when he kept to the darkness of
midnight. Suddenly awakened out of sound sleep
in a black Egyptian gloom, a man is not so formid-
able a foe as when, with a lamp lighted, candles
burning and fire blazing, he catches up a revolver
that has often proved its accuracy, and goes forth
to inflict condign punishment on the villain or fool
attempting to frighten him. I was enraged at the
dastardly way poor Betty had been tricked, and
resolved that if “ he ” or “it ” who were guilty of
these disturbances would only show, they would
regret the hour that they tempted their fate.
My revolver was soon taken from the holster case
in which I carry it about. I assured myself that
. it was loaded, then, walking across the room, I
unlocked the door and flung it wide open.
There was no one outside,


" The House of Horror 83
The landing and corridor were empty, and beyond,
through the half-open door that divided the wing
from the tower, I could only see the blackness of
the unlit gallery. When I listened, my straining
ears seemed to catch the sound of a soft thud, then
a rustle, then another soft thud going along the
gallery; but as I could not see, I turned quickly
into my room, and, catching up the candle from the
table at the side of the bed, walked out on to the
landing and through the door into the gallery, hold-
ing the candle overhead and striving to pierce the
dark depths below and around me.
All was still now; only my own breathing broke
the silence. I sniffed the air. Faugh! A subtle,
unknown, and horribly vile smell filled my nostrils
and sent me back quite sickened to my room. There
was no more to be done, so I shut and locked
my door "and turned with a sigh to my bothering
letter.
“ Nell” welcomed my reappearance with rapture
and every demonstration of delight. She jumped
on to my knees and tried to cover my face with her
frenzied kisses. I felt that she was still trembling
violently, so I soothed and petted her for a few
minutes before putting her back into her bed.
I had scarcely taken up my pen again when a
noise came from the far end of the gallery—thuds
and brushing. Whatever caused the noise advanced
right up to my door, and fell or threw itself once or
twice heavily against the framework. Then the
scraping began again. One, two; slow and Along
scratches right down the panel. One, two, three;
shortly and quickly succeeding each other. Then a


84 The White Ghost Book
rustling or brushing noise against the door, followed
by another thud and more scratching.
I sprang up, sending my papers flying in all
directions, rushing to the door, unlocking it and
tearing it open. The same sickening smell struck
my nostrils; the mat that lay across the threshold
was half turned back; but beyond this there was
no more to be seen this time than before.
But most unmistakably I heard the rustling,
brushing, soft dumping noise at the end of the
gallery.
Should I walk across and rouse O’Connoll?
This would entail waking Betty, and her being
left alone whilst I carried off her husband to help
in the hunt for this mysterious night-bird which
was disturbing me. I was the only occupant, I
knew, of the Red Wing, the O’Connolls alone in the
Blue Wing, and in the Priest’s House were the babies
and servants.
Should I cross the gallery, I debated, go through
the Blue Corridor, down the stairs and into the Priest’s
House, in search of the butler?
I had no kind of idea which was his room, and
my endeavours to discover him might land me in
nurseries with terrified, shrieking babies and irate
nurses, or in the women servants’ quarters, where
indignant and hysterical maids would call down
vengeance on my devoted head.
Even should I succeed in finding the man’s roorn,
what should I ask his aid for-a burglar hunt ?
But burglars do not scratch with their finger-
nails on people’s doors.
A ghost hunt?
_ ._ _h__ A. ____


The House of ‘Horror 85
Then I should probably frighten all Betty’s
domestics into departing next day, besides laying
up endless ridicule for myself when nothing came
of it. How did I know that Oscar, the deerhound,
had not been taught the clever trick of scratching
and bumping in correct time ?
There was nothing for it but to go back and
await further developments.
I shut the door, but did not lock it, put my papers -
away, all idea of further writing being out of the
question, placed the lamp on a chest of drawers
exactly opposite the door, lighted every candle in
the room, and, revolver in hand, stood by the door
ready to wrench it wide open before the practical
joker could have time to depart.
The first intimation of the return of my visitant
was, as usual, from “ Nell,” the fox-terrier. Again
her coat bristled and her limbs stiffened, the same
visible tremor shook her whole body, and her eyes
once more fixed themselves with agonised attention
on the door.
In a little I, too, heard the bump, bump, bump
along the gallery, the rustling and brushing, the
thump against the door. Then a sniff under it, and
a long scratch, as if with a sharp finger-nail, down
the paint.
Breathless with excitement, I flung back the
door.
In a moment I knew what Betty had meant when
she said her hair “ moved.” For my flesh, all over
my body and scalp, “ crept,” and every hair on my
head stood straight on end.
I must admit, without reserve, that I was utterly


86 The White Ghost Book
terror-stricken, and absolutely paralysed with fright.
My hand holding the revolver dropped limply to my
side when, in the full glare of the lamp, I saw the
Creature that squatted in the doorway.
No one who has not experienced the sensation
can in the smallest measure understand the abso-
lute weakness that came over me, the seeming cessa-
tion of the pulses of life, the grip in heart and brain,
the deadly numbness which rendered me incapable
of thought, word, or action, when I first saw that
awful beast.
I heard a sharp yelp from the terrier just when
the door swung back, but after that there was no
sound or movement from the dog, and the Creature
on the mat and I faced each other in absolute silence.
The lamp burnt brightly, the fire fizzed and puffed,
and my fascinated eyes took in every detail, every
gruesome feature, of the indescribable Horror squat-
ting at my door.
The Thing was about the size of a sheep, thin,
gaunt and shadowy in parts. Its face was human
—or, to be more accurate, inhuman—in its vileness,
with large holes of blackness for eyes, loose slob-
bery lips, and a thick saliva-dripping jaw, sloping
suddenly back into its neck. Nose it had none, only
spreading, cancerous cavities, the whole face being
one uniform tint of grey. This, too, was the colour
of the dark, coarse hair covering its head, neck, and
body. The forearms were thickly coated with the
same hair, so were its paws—large, loose, and hand-
shaped; and as it sat on its hind legs, one hand or
paw was raised, and a claw-like finger was extended
to scratch the paint.


The House of Horror 87
Its lustreless eyes, which seemed half decomposed
in black cavities and looked incredibly foul, stared
into mine, and the horrible smell which had before
offended my nostrils, only a hundred times intensified,
came up into my face, filling me with a deadly nausea.
I noticed the lower half of the creature was indefinite
and seemed semi-transparent—at least, I could see
the framework of the door that led into the gallery
through its body.
I cannot tell exactly how long we thus stood,
gazing at each other—time seemed to cease and
eternity begin—but at last the creature gave a
species of hop and landed well inside the_room.
Then my hitherto nerveless fingers closed round
my revolver—oh! the comfort its cold stock gave
me—and covering the Brute carefully between its
prominent eyes, I fired.
A crash of lead striking the wood of the large
hanging cupboard behind the object I aimed at told
me I had either missed or my bullet had gone clean
through the Thing’s head. IT did not seem one bit
inconvenienced, merely turning its vile countenance
at the sound of the splintered wood.
I took aim once more, desperately determining
that if lead could solve the mystery, my bullet should
this time.
I could not have missed, but another ping of the
bullet into the wardrobe was the only result of the
second shot.
z My flesh crept again, and a stifling tightness
clutched my throat. Either my eyesight was failing
or the Creature was gradually becoming less distinct.
Just as I was preparing for a third shot it reared itself


88 The White Ghost Book
upright, and holding its arms rather bent, it took
one step forward, as if about to spring upon me.
Was it a trick of my hot, aching eyes, or not ?
I cannot say, but the horrible, bestial lines of the
Creature gradually merged into the grey, featureless
shape Betty had described.
Overcoming the strongest physical repugnance at
the thought of the Creature touching me, I pressed
my revolver right up or into its breast—and fired.
Springing back to avoid its “ hands ” clutching me,
my ankle twisted, and I fell, something striking me
a sharp, stinging blow on the temple.
* * * Ill ll!
The next thing I heard was Betty’s voice saying
joyfully, “ He is coming to, now, doctor, I am sure.”
My eyelids seemed weighted as with lead, but
with an effort I opened them, to see a man I could
not recollect having ever met standing over me
with a pair of scissors in one hand and a roll of
sticking-plaster in the other.
Beside him stood Betty, and Maurice was sup-
porting my head. I was lying on a bed in a small
room I had not been in before, but which, from
the whips and boots about, I guessed rightly to be
O’Connoll’s dressing-room.
“ You fell and split your scalp against an iron
bedpost, old man,” said Maurice. “-We got Dr.
Charterly out to mend you up.”
“ Not quite so bad as that, O’Connoll,” the doctor
corrected, smiling. “ I expect Captain Gordon has
had many a worse head than this. There—that’s
as neat a job as I can make of it ;' you’ll have to


The House of Horror 89
wear your hat well over your eyes to hide the
‘ plashter,’ or your friends will say you’ve been prize-
fighting. Want to get up, do you? I would not,
if I were you; it’s not much more than seven yet,
so lie where you are until breakfast-time, and try
and get a sleep. Here—drink this up.”
“ Betty,” I called rather weakly, feeling an
insane desire to cry, “ Betty, are you all safe ? ”
“ Of course, Madam O’Connoll is. Why shouldn’t
she be ? ” interrupted the doctor. “ It’s ruining her
complexion she is, stopping out of bed like this.
Now, O’Connoll, please, I’ll be much obliged if you
and your good lady will leave me alone with my
patient. With your permission, I will take a couple
of hours’ rest in this fine chair and then invite myself
to breakfast with you, for I’m due at your dispensary
at ten, so it’s not worth while going home.”
My cousin pressed my hand, and she and her
husband left me alone with the doctor.
I was beginning to speak when he stopped me.
“ Look here, Captain Gordon,” he said, “ I presume
you want to get well fast ? Then don’t be bothering
your poor battered brain with thinking. You’ve had
a fall and a fright—no one else was frightened or hurt,
and you yourself are not at all bad ; if you sleep now,
you’l1 be well when you wake up.”
“ Doctor,” I cried earnestly, “ I must get to
Dublin to-night, and Madam O’Connoll ”‘
“ And Madam O’Connoll and himself are to go
with you—by medical orders I ” the doctor said, with
a comical twist of his face. “ I’m hunting the lot of
ye away for a change—babies and all. So unless you
want to be left here all alone with the alternative of


go The White Ghost Book
Ballykinkope Union Infirmary, get to sleep and be
fit for the journey.”
He sat in an arm-chair, wrapped a rug round his
feet, and vouchsafed me no more words. My thoughts
were confused and chaotic; but before I‘ could
arrange them the medicine he had given me did its
work, and I went to sleep.
O’Connoll was sitting in the room when I awoke,
and a tray with breakfast things was on a table
beside my bed.
My head was quite clear now. I was free from
aches and pains, and very hungry.
“The doctor said you could get up when you’d
eaten something. But there is no hurry, Gordon,
as our train does not go until three o’clock. Feel
pretty fit again ? ”
“ I’m so awfully sorry, O’Conno1l,” I began. He
stopped me.
“ I know what you mean, old man; it’s no fault
of yours, I suppose. Look here, though—about last
night. It’s Betty I don’t want to have frightened,
for it would only make her worse at frightening
people like she doubtless frightened you. All her
fault again, of course.”
“ What happened when I fell ? I suppose you
heard my shots and came in?”
“ You let fly three times, didn’t you? I didn’t
hear the first shot. Betty did, and awoke me just
at the second. I was half across the gallery when
you fired last.”
“ Then you saw
“ My dear fellow, I saw nothing; I make a point
of never seeing anything in this house. I simply
99


The House of Horror 91
can’t afford to! My father, grandfather, and their
fathers before them spent their lives here—deuced
long ones, too, judging by my. grandfather’s. The
ghosts were talked of then just the same, and no
one was one bit the worse for them that I ever heard
of. My idea is, if you leave them alone they will
leave you; so I have not seen, and do not see, and
never will see one of them. But with my wife it is
different. So, Gordon, I want you to help me—do
tell her a good thumping likely lie, and make her
think you were drunk.” .
“ Kenneth can economise that lie,” Betty said
gently. She had heard her husband’s last words as
she came into the room.
“ I know what you are talking about, and I know
Kenneth was not dreaming, and, of course, I know
he was not drunk. But I don’t want to know or
hear another word of the subject. We’ll stop in
Dublin until November is over, and then—then we’ll
come home. I am so sorry, Kenneth, that you have
proved to be one of the small percentage who ‘ see.’
Many, many people come here, see nothing, and scoff
at the idea of there being anything to see. You were
less lucky. Now I’m going to pack up. Don’t you
go into the other wing again; the clothes you want
will be brought you here, and the rest packed up.
Now be a sensible man and don’t go trying to re-
member about last night ” (as if there was the
smallest danger of my forgetting it !), “ but eat up
your breakfast before you move.”
“ Betty’s right,” said O’Connoll. “ We won’t
talk of ghosts again. After all, what is the good?
It all leads to nothing.”


92 r The White Ghost Book
“ Where is ‘ Nell’ ? ” I cried, suddenly thinking
of my little terrier friend.
“ She is dead,” O’Connoll answered shortly. I
did not ask for more particulars.
THE MARBLE MANTELPIECE
THE following story concerns a London hotel in the
West End, a favourite resort of fashionable people
of all nationalities. The incident related occurred
to a lady well known to me, and whom I will call
Mrs. Hope, for, unfortunately, I am not allowed to
mention her real name.
“ One summer,” said Mrs. Hope, “ I came to
town to do some shopping and was the guest of a
wealthy friend who generally had a small suite at
Claridge’s. It chanced that Claridge’s was quite full,
and my friend could not get her usual suite, so she
took rooms in another hotel not far off.
¥‘ This hotel was also very full, and she had to
content herself with rooms on the top floor, not
well enough furnished to satisfy her, and the promise
that a much better suite below would be vacant in
a few days, which she could then have.
“ I am entering into these details because they
have a bearing on the story.
“ My friend was located in the upper suite
when I arrived, and we stayed together, spending
our days in shopping, sight-seeing, motoring, and
so on.


The Marble Mantelpiece 93
“ The second day of my arrival I went into the
sitting-room about two o’clock, when, to my astonish-
ment, I saw a lady dressed in outdoor clothes sitting
in an arm-chair. She was extremely pretty, and sat
in a graceful attitude, with her hands folded. Her
dress was of soft grey material, something like ninon,
and she wore a flat, wide-brimmed hat. I saw her
face quite distinctly, and noticed that she was very
fair and very delicate-looking. I can see her now
in my mind’s eye.
“ We were not expecting a visitor, but naturally
I concluded she must be one, and advanced towards
her, when suddenly she vanished! The arm-chair
stood empty as before, and the lady had disappeared.
“ I said nothing to my hostess, simply because
I knew she would only laugh at me ; but I must con-
fess I felt very uncomfortable, for the figure was
not a shadowyone seen in a dim light, but a very
real-looking one, seen in broad daylight.
“ Next day we moved down into the suite of rooms
on the lower floor, the occupants, a Russian prince
and princess, having just left. The moment I went
into the sitting-room I noticed a beautiful marble
mantelpiece, and went nearer to examine it, for in
these old London hotels one often comes across ex-
quisite bits of ancient carving and decoration. The
mantelpiece reached nearly to the ceiling, and was
beautifully carved with wreaths of fruit and flowers
—so beautifully that Ruskin’s wonderful definition
of fine architecture as ‘ frozen music ’ rushed into
my mind. There were two marble pillars support-
ing it, and half-way up was a large medallion
portrait of a beautiful woman.


94 The White Ghost Book
“ Then I simply gasped, for on the medallion was
the face of the lady I had seen upstairs, flat-brimmed
hat and all.
“ Seeing me change colour and look startled, my
hostess asked me what was the matter, and then
I told her about my vision of the previous day. She
was much interested and questioned the servants
and the people of the hotel, but they professed to
know nothing.
“ No doubt they knew a great deal more than
they cared to say.”
THE WHITE LADY OF BOLLING HALL
THE recent marriage of President Wilson and Mrs.
Galt (née Edith Bolling) has aroused fresh interest
in the ghost story of Bolling Hall, Bradford, which
is the ancestral home of the bride, and will no doubt
be the Mecca of all good Americans on tour when
they visit this country in days to come.
Rosamund Bolling, who owned the estate in the
sixteenth century, married Sir Richard Tempest in
1502, and brought him the Manor House as part
of her dowry, and for generations the Tempests held
sway there, the last of them being a desperate
gambler, who finally staked and lost Bolling and
the adjoining lands at cards.
During the deal that was to have such momentous
results, Tempest was heard to exclaim:
“ Now ace, deuce and tray,
Or farewell Bolling Hall for ever and aye!”


The White Lady 95
It is not surprising that Tempest died in the
King’s Bench in 1658, where he was imprisoned for
debt, and his ghost is said to haunt the ghost-
chamber at Bolling, which is a beautiful old room
in which are portraits of Sir Richard Tempest and
Rosamund Bolling, his wife, painted on panels.
The most famous ghost story of Bolling Hall,
however, does not deal with the reckless gambler,
Tempest, but with an episode of the Civil War.
An old writer, who was himself in Bradford at
the time, tells the story in the course of his description
of the horrors of the siege : *
“ In the meantime the enemy (the Earl of New-
castle and the Royalists) took the opportunity of
a parley to remove their cannon, and brought them
nearer the town and fixed them on~a certain place
called Goodman’s End, directly against the heart
of the town and surrounding us on every side with
horse and foot, so it was impossible for a single
person to escape. Nor could the troops within the
town act on the defensive for want of ammunition,
‘which they had lost in their last defeat at Adwalton ;
nor had they a single match, but such as were made
of twisted cords dipped in oil.
“ Oh, that dreadful and never-to-be-forgotten
night, which was mostly spent in firing those deadly
engines upon us, so that the blaze issuing therefrom
appeared like lightning from Heaven, the elements
being, as it were, on fire, and the loud roaring of
the cannon resembling the mighty thunders of the
* “A genuine account of the sore calamities that befell Bradford
in the time of the Civil War,”


96 The White Ghost Book
sky! This same night Sir Thomas Fairfax and the
forces in his command cut their way through the
besiegers and escaped from the town, thus leaving
it more utterly at the Royalists’ mercy.
“ Now, reader, here stop—stop for a moment——
pause and suppose thyself in the like dilemma.
Words cannot express, thoughts cannot imagine, nay,
art itself is not able to point out the calamities and
woeful distresses with which we were now over-
whelmed withal! Every countenance was spread
with sorrow; every house was overwhelmed with
grief; husbands lamenting over their families;
women wringing their hands in despair; children
shrieking, crying and clinging to their parents. Death
in all his dreadful forms and frightful aspects
stalking in every street and every corner. In
short, horror, despair, and destruction united their
efforts to spread devastation and complete our
ruin.
“ What are all our former calamities in comparison
with these ? Before, there were some glimmering
hopes of mercy from the enemy, but now they are
fled—fled in every appearance. Our foes were ex-
asperated with the opposition they had met with
from us, but especially the cruel death by which
the Earl of Newport’s son fell by our unwary
townsmen. For behold! immediately orders were
issued out to the soldiers by the Earl of New-
castle, their commander, that the next morning they
should put to the sword every man, woman, and
child, without regard to age, sex, or distinction
whatsoever.
“ The night before the sentence was to be carried


The White Lady 97
out the Earl of Newcastle was sleeping at Bolling,
or Bowling, Hall. In the midst of the night a lady,
clad in white, gauzy garments from head to foot,
entered the Earl’s bedroom, several times pulled
the clothes from his bed, and then, when he was
thoroughly aroused and trembling with fear, cried
out with a lamentable voice, ‘ Pity poor Bradford!
Pity poor Bradford!’ and disappeared.
“ How far this was true I submit it to others to
determine. But this much I must affirm—that the
hand of Providence never more conspicuously ap-
peared in our favour, for lo! immediately the Earl
countermanded the former order, and forbade the
death of any person whatsoever, except only such
as made resistance.
“ Thus, from a state of anguish and despair, we,
who were but just ready to be swallowed up, by the
wonderful providence of the Almighty were reprieved
as criminals from the rack. See what a surprising
change immediately takes place: the countenances
of those who were but just before overspread with
horror and despair began in some measure to resume
their former gaiety and cheerfulness—a general joy
and gladness diffused itself through every breast;
the hearts of those who were ere now overwhelmed
with sorrow are now big with praise and thanks-
giving to God for the wonderful and surprising
deliverance brought about in their favour.”


98 The White Ghost Book
THE HAUNTED HOUSE AT HINDHEAD
HAVING heard that Miss Marjorie Patterson, the
clever young actress and novelist, had had some
ghostly experiences, I asked her to give me an
account of them. She kindly consented, and this
is the story she told me:
“ It happened last summer and the year before,
when I was staying down at Hindhead. The house
was near the Punchbowl, and it was not an old one,
as is the case in most stories of haunted houses.
“ The second night I slept there I awoke at eight
in the morning, and the first thing my eyes rested
on was the figure of an old lady sitting quietly by
the side of my bed, looking at me.
“ I must tell you that I am not one of those
people who awake slowly and spend some time in
coming gradually back from the land of dreams. On
the contrary, the moment I wake up I am quite awake.
“ On seeing the old lady there, my first feeling
was one of annoyance. There were several old
ladies in the house, and I thought it great pre-
sumption of this one to invade my room. I was
most indignant and sat up in bed to ask her what
she was doing there. She was dressed in black,
and had on a mob cap which completely hid every
vestige of her hair. She was very pale, with hollow
cheeks, her nose was short and broad, and her teeth
prominent. As I opened my mouth to speak,
horrible to relate, her features slowly melted into
the form of a hideous skull, and she vanished.


Haunted House at Hindhead 99
“ I was very frightened. It was eight o’clock on
a summer’s morning, and therefore quite light, but
all the same I could not shake off the feeling of
horror and fear. When the maid came in with my
hot water, I told her what I had seen and questioned
her closely, and she confessed that there was some-
thing queer about the room, and that a gentleman,
who had occupied it not long before, had had to
leave it suddenly.
“ I knew that what I had seen was not the con-
tinuation of a dream, because, as I have said, I wake
up thoroughly at once, and do not doze on drowsily
as some people do.
“ In spite of my shock I determined to stay on
in the room, as I was decidedly interested. The
next night I went to sleep, but in the middle of the
" night I was awakened by the sound of two people
whispering near my bed. The voices were those of
old people. Then something came along and stood
quite close to me, still whispering, and I distinctly
heard it rubbing its hands together and cracking
its joints. The sounds I heard could not have been
anybody in the next room, because the walls were
solid and I could not hear any sound at any time
in that room. There was no wind, and besides—I
felt the awful thing near me. .
“ I continued to sleep in the room, wondering
what would happen next, and I heard the thing,
whatever it was, frequently. Often I would wake
and say to myself, ‘ It’s on this side—it’s on that
side.’ One night I called my mother, and, though
she s: w nothing, she felt it too.
“ After its first appearance to me it didn’t


100 The White Ghost Book
materialise any more, but it never left me alone, and
I got exasperated and used to speak aloud to it, and
say, ‘Do for goodness’ sake get out and let me go
to sleep.’
“ One night I had been down to the bathroom
to have a bath, and it was rather late—about twelve
o’clock--when I came upstairs with my sponge and
towels in my hand. As I entered my room and
switched on the light, I felt the usual sensation that
It was there. In front of the fireplace stood an old
wicker chair with its back to the door. I heard the
chair creak loudly, and as I looked at it I saw the
two arms open out slowly, as if some old person
were getting up out of it most laboriously, and the
chair moved back and quivered, and rocked over
on its back legs. _
“ The whole of that house, ‘not only my room,
was haunted, particularly in the month of Septem-
ber. Vague grey shadows, sometimes running low
on the ground like animals, would be seen by people
on the stairs. There were very strange influences
and uncanny sounds there. Sometimes for days
together I heard nothing, and then a queer feeling
would come over me, a physical feeling, as if a cold
breath passed over my head and ruffled my hair,
and I would say, ‘ It’s back here.’
“ They say these Elementals are very teasing and
mischievous. I accounted for them by the fact
that the neighbourhood had in olden times been
the scene of murder and other dark deeds done by
highwaymen, and we were not far from the spot
where the gibbct once stood and the bodies of the
murderers used to hang in chains. I have been


Haunted House at Hindhead I01
told by psychic people that if you speak to Elementals
you ought to wish them happiness.
“ One of the last nights I slept in the haunted
room I had another experience. It was in the
evening, and my mother was with me, and we were
talking. Suddenly the electric light was turned off
'—the knob moved, and we both distinctly heard it
click. Then it clicked again, and the light went up.
I cried out: ‘ Mother, It’s in the room I ’
* Ill III * ll!
“ That was the end of my Hindhead experiences,
but it might interest you to hear of something that
happened when I was a child of eight. I was too
young at the time to remember it distinctly now,
but my mother, who tells the story, always says it
made a great impression on her.
“ We were living at Scarborough. The town be-
came very crowded during the season, and we drove
over the moors to find a little cottage where we could
get lodgings away from the town. At last we found
an ideal, picturesque little place, covered with
jasmine and roses and standing in a dear old-fashioned
garden.
“ The woman who owned it lived there, and let
us the rooms. I had a front bedroom overlooking
the garden, with a lattice window and some nice
old-fashioned furniture and china.
“ One day I was sitting at the window when my
mother came in and said, ‘ Isn’t this a fascinating
room ? ’
“ ‘ Yes,’ I am told I answered, ‘ but so sad.’
“ My mother was astonished, for it was a particu-


I02 The White Ghost Book
larly sunny, cheerful room; then I added to my
mother’s astonishment by saying, ‘ Mother, is there
any illness you can have that stops you from moving T
I feel as if one side of me was dead.”
“ Just then, before she could answer, the woman
who ‘owned the cottage came in and said, ‘ Isn’t it
a pretty view ? It was such a comfort to my mother.
She had paralysis, and used to sit by that window
for hours looking out.’
“ Very strange—wasn’t it ?—that the dead
woman’s sensations should have been felt long
afterwards by a child ? ”
THE GHOST WITH THE EVIL FACE
THE incident related in this story happened to an
officer in the Royal Navy, a personal friend of mine.
I have his kind permission to publish the story as
he told it to me:
“ When I was a boy of eight or nine we were
living near Alverstoke, in Hampshire. The house
was an old one, on a common, with a wall-garden and
small lawn. The windows had little old-fashioned
square panes, and on one of them a former occupant
or visitor had scratched her name, ‘ Mary Carmoys.’
The house had been built on to, and had probably
once been, a large cottage. The stable was never
used, except as a coal cellar, for the people who
lived there before us did not keep horses, nor
did we.


The Evil Face 103
“ We rented the house furnished, and had been
there for several years before what I am going to
tell you took place. My father was away at sea, and
there were only my mother, we children, and the
servants at home at the time.
\
“ One evening I had not been feeling well, and
my mother suggested that I had better go to bed.
I went upstairs with her, and she left me at the
top of the landing stairs while she went up three
steps to the right and along a passage to the entrance
to the bathroom, where a table always stood, on
which the bedroom candles were kept.
“ ‘ You wait here,’ she said; ‘ I’ll go and get a
light.’
“ To make clear the exact position where I was
left, I will draw you a rough plan. The hall lamp


7616/a w///;
6'0/rd/0.://0.4-g
was not lighted, nor the landing lamp, so it was
fairly dusk, being close on October, about six in the
evening.
“ As I say, my mother left me while she went
to light a candle. When she was gone and I was
waiting for her to come back, I saw facing me a
man dressed as a sailor in a blue jersey and stocking
cap, who stared at me very intently. His expression


104 The White Ghost Book
frightened me, and his face was peculiarly repulsive.
He looked like a particularly villainous specimen of
the loafers one sees on the Hard at Portsmouth.
“ As I watched him, shaking with fright, I heard
my mother returning. As she came down the steps
the man vanished quite suddenly. She noticed that
I was upset, and asked me what was the matter.
I said: ‘ There’s a man standing in the passage.’
“ ‘ Oh, nonsense!’ said my mother; but she
hunted the whole house and found no one.
“ I was so thoroughly frightened at seeing the
man that nothing would induce me to sleep in my
own room, and so I slept with my mother. I may
add that she was very religious and extremely
sceptical of anything of the nature of ghosts, but my
terror was so evident that she saw I was not hum-
bugging or telling a lie. She had at first believed
that I had seen a real man—probably a tramp who
had broken into the house, but after she had made
a thorough search and had found nothing, she did
not know what to make of it. ‘
I ii Ill # Ill
“ Six years later, when we had gone to live in
Devonshire, the conversation turned on servants,
rand I asked my mother why my former nurse and
the cook had left so suddenly. She told me they
had both seen the man within a few days of my
seeing him, and had left the house at once. My
mother added that she had since heard that the
house was haunted by a sailor who was supposed
to have been murdered in it over some dispute
about a girl.


The Evil Face 105
“ The house, which stood close to the creek, had
been a well known depot for smugglers. This was
borne out by subsequent events. Major Graham (as
I will call him), who was the next tenant after our-
selves, kept horses. The stable, therefore, was
cleared out and used. One day, one of his horses
fell into a pit on the way to the stable, the ground
having given way, and there was found a regular
smugglers’ hiding-place of the old type, such as
you read about in stories.
“ That ends my story, but I can assure you I
shall never forget seeing the ghost as long as I live.
I can remember his horrible malignant expression
to this very day.”
A GHOST SEEN IN BORROWDALE,
CUMBERLAND
DR. HASWELL, of Leamington, had the following
strange experience in the North of England, which
he has thus described to me:
“ Some few years ago, in the month of November,
my friend B and I were staying at Rosthwaite,
in Borrowdale. At the time we were keen on
photography, and we found many excellent oppor-
tunities of practising our hobby amongst the hills
and valleys of this charming place. r
“ One day we went to the lonely hamlet of
Watendlath, and after a fairly successful time with
our cameras, were returning to Rosthwaite as the


106
The White Ghost Book
mournful autumn sun was nearing the high moun-
tains in the south-west.
“ From Watendlath to Rosthwaite the steep hill
track passes a plantation of larch on the left. When
we reached this place we decided to go round the
other side of the plantation in the hope of finding
some fresh subject. My friend lingered a few minutes
behind, whilst I went forward and found myself
on the wrong side of a stone wall. To regain the
usual track I had to climb this wall. This I did,
climbing to the top and leaving my camera and
bag there whilst I jumped down on to the turf.
Having secured my apparatus, I waited near the
wall till B could join me. I then looked to-
wards the west and saw, close to the wall, scarcely
fifty yards ahead, the figure of a lady (I use the
word ‘lady ’ as distinguished from ‘ countrywoman ’)
bending over, looking towards the wall as if search-
ing for something on the ground. The lady was
dressed in black, or a very dark-coloured material;
there was nothing antique or remarkable about her
appearance, and I concluded that she must be
a tourist. Wondering what she might be looking
for, I watched her for a minute or so. It then
occurred to me that she might be startled if I went
forward, so I remained where I was, waiting for
my friend.
“He soon came up and scaled the wall. We
then moved on for a yard or two, and it struck
me at that moment that I might get a picture
looking back in the direction we had come from.
To my great astonishment, on turning again to-
vards Rosthwaite I found the lady had vanished. I
| |'F‘.1&


A Cumberland Ghost 107
immediately said to Bi, ‘Where is that lady
. gone?’
“ He replied, ‘ What lady ? ’
“ I answered, ‘ Didn’t you see a lady there
looking at the ground ? ’
“ B replied that he had seen nobody.
“ I then told him that I was sure he must have
seen the lady, which was my reason for not having
drawn his attention to her sooner. Feeling curious,
we both examined the whole place round, but could
find no trace of any lady. In fact, there was nobody
in sight in any direction. It would have been very
difficult for a lady to climb over the wall about
there, for it was rather high and the stones loose;
and even if it had been done she could not possibly
have concealed herself on the other side, where the
open fell lay, with pools of water in the foreground.
Nor could any person have escaped our observation
on the track we followed to Rosthwaite. It was
impossible.
“ The face of the apparition—for such I concluded
the ‘lady ’ must have been—was peculiarly dusky;
it may have been partly averted. No solution was
ever found, and though I watched carefully for
some days to see if any person at all like what
I had seen were really living about Rosthwaite,
I failed to find any. There was some movement
in the figure I saw, though not much; and in
point of time it remained visible to me for several
minutes.”


108 The White Ghost Book
THE WESLEY GHOST STORY
THERE is no better authenticated ghost story than
that of Epworth Parsonage, the home of the Wesleys,
in Lincolnshire, because the whole Wesley family
confirmed it, as well as other witnesses. At the
time the disturbances took place the Rector was
the Rev. Samuel Wesley, father of the celebrated
John Wesley, who lived there with his wife and
most of the members of his large family. Sam, the
eldest son, and John were at Westminster; Charles,
another son, was away from home; but the girls,
Emilia, Sukey, Molly, Hetty, Nancy, and others,
were all at home, and not only did the Rector and his
wife suffer many things from ghostly visitations,
but all the girls, from Emilia, who was twenty-two,
1% little Patty and Keziah, who were merely children,
as well as the three servants, were scared nearly
out of their wits by what they saw and heard.
Years after John Wesley wrote an account of
the Epworth' ghost for the Armian Magazine, a
publication which afterwards became the Wesleyan
Methodist Magazine. He based it on his own strict
investigations, and it runs as follows:
“ When I was very young I heard several letters
read, wrote to my elder brother by my father, giving
an account of strange disturbances which were in
the house at Epworth, in Lincolnshire.
“ When I went down thither, in the year 1720,
I carefully inquired into the particulars. I spoke
to each of the persons who were then in the house,


The Wesley Ghost Story 109
and took down what each could testify of his or
her own knowledge. The sum of which was this:
“ On December 2, 1716, while Robert Brown,
my father’s servant, was sitting with one of the
maids, a little before ten at night, in the dining
room, which opened into the garden, they both heard
a knocking at the door. Robert rose and opened
it, but could see nobody. Quickly it knocked again,
and groaned. ‘ It is Mr. Turpine,’ said Robert;
‘ he has the stone, and uses to groan so.’
“ He opened the door again twice or thrice, the
knocking being twice or thrice repeated, but still.
seeing nothing, and being a little startled, they rose
and went to bed.
“ When Robert came to the top of the garret
stairs he saw a handmill, which was at a little dis-
tance, whirled about very swiftly. When he related
this he said: ‘ Nought vexed me but that it was
empty. I thought, if it had been full of malt he
might have ground his heart out for me.’ When
he was in bed he heard, as it were, the gobbling of
a turkey-cock close to the bedside, and soon after
the sound of one stumbling over his shoes and
boots; but there were none there—-he had left
them below.
“ The next day he and the maid related these
things to the other maid, who laughed heartily, and
said, ‘ What a couple of fools you are! I defy
anything to frighten me I ’ After churning in the
evening she put the butter in the tray, and had no
sooner carried it into the dairy than she heard a
knocking on the shelf where several puneheons of
milk stood, first above the shelf, then below. She


no The White Ghost Book
took the candle and searched both above and below,
but, being able to find nothing, threw down butter,
tray and all and ran away for life.
“ The next evening, between five and six o’clock,
my sister Molly, then about twenty years of age,
sitting in the dining-room reading, heard as if it
were the door that led into the hall open, and a
person walking in, that seemed to have on a silk
nightgown, rustling and trailing along. It seemed
to walk round her and then to the door, then round
again; but she could see nothing. She thought:
‘ It signifies nothing to run away, for whatever it is
it can run faster than me.’ So she rose, put her
book under her arm, and walked slowly away.
After supper she was sitting with my sister Sukey
(about a year older than her) in one of the chambers,
and telling her what had happened. She made
quite light of it, telling her, ‘ I wonder you are so
easily frightened. I would fain see what would
frighten me.’
“ Presently a knocking began under the table.
She took the candle and looked, but could find
nothing. Then the iron casement began to clatter.
Next the catch of the door moved up and down with-
out ceasing. She started up, leaped into the bed with-
out undressing, pulled the bedclothes over her head
and never ventured to look up until next morning.
“ A night or two after, my sister Hetty (a year
younger than my sister Molly) was waiting as usual
between nine and ten to take away my father’s
candle, when she heard someone coming down the
garret stairs, walking slowly by her, then going
Slowly down the best stairs, then up the back stairs


The Wesley Ghost Story III
and up the garret stairs, and at every step it seemed
the house shook from top to bottom. Just then
my father knocked, she went in, took the candle,
and got to bed as fast as possible. In the morning
she told it to my eldest sister, who told her, ‘ You
know I believe none of these things; pray, let me
take away the candle to-night, and I will find out
the trick.’ She accordingly took my sister Hetty’s
place, and had no sooner taken away the candle
than she heard a noise below. She hastened down-
stairs to the hall where the noise was, but it was
then in the kitchen. She ran into the kitchen, when it
was drumming on the inside of the screen.
“ When she went round, it was drumming on the
outside and so always on the side opposite to her.
Then she heard a knocking on the back kitchen
door. She ran to it, unlocked it softly, and, when
the knocking was repeated, suddenly opened it,
but nothing was to be seen. As soon as she had
shut it the knocking began again. She opened it
again, but could see nothing. When she went to
shut the door it was violently knocked against her,
but she set her knee and her shoulder to the door,
forced it to, and turned the key. Then the knock-
ing began again, but she let it go on and went up
to bed. However, from that time she was thor-
oughly convinced that there was no imposture.
“ The next morning my sister told my mother
what had happened, and she said, ‘ If I hear any-
thing myself I shall know how to judge.’ Soon
after my sister begged her mother to come into
the nursery. She did, and heard, in the corner of
the room, as it were, the violent rocking of a cradle,


1:2 The White Ghost Book
but no cradle had been there for some years. She
was convinced it was preternatural, and earnestly
prayed it might not disturb her in her own chamber
at the hour of retirement; and it never did. She
now thought it proper to tell my father, but he
was extremely angry, and said, ‘ Sukey,* I am ashamed
of you. These boys and girls frighten one another,
but you are a woman of sense, and should know
better. Let me hear of it no more.’
“At six in the evening he had family prayers as
usual. When he began the prayer for‘ the King a
knocking began all round the room, and a thunder-
ing knock attended the ‘ Amen.’ The same was
heard from this time every morning and evening
while the prayer for the King was repeated. As
both my father and mother are now at rest and
incapable of being pained thereby, I think it my
duty to furnish the serious reader with a key to
this circumstance.
“ The year before King William died my father
observed my mother did not say ‘ Amen ’ to the
prayer for the King. She said she would not, for
she did not believe the Prince of Orange was King.
He vowed he would never cohabit with her until
she did. He then took his horse and rode away,
nor did she hear anything of him for a twelve-
month. He then came back and lived with her
as before. But I fear his vow was not forgotten
before God.
“Being informed that Mr. Hoole, the Vicar of
Haxey, could give me some further information, I
* Mrs. Wesley is also referred to as “ Sukey "-an abbreviation
of “ Susannah.”


The Wesley Ghost Story 113
walked over to him. He said (referring to the bygone
disturbances at Epworth Parsonage) :
“ Robert Brown came over to me and told
me your father desired my company; when I
came he gave me an account of all that had
happened, particularly the knocking during
family prayer. But that evening (to my great
satisfaction) We heard no knocking at all. But
between nine and ten a servant came in and
said : ‘ Old Jeffrey is coming (that was the name
of one who had died in the house), for I hear
the signal.’ This, they informed me, was heard
every night about a quarter before ten. It was
towards the top of the house, on the outside,
at the north-east corner, resembling the loud
creaking of a saw, or rather of a windmill, when
the body of it is turned about in order to shift
the sails to the wind.
“ We then heard a knocking over our heads,
and Mr. Wesley, catching up a candle, said:
‘ Come, sir; now you shall hear for yourself.’
We went upstairs, he with much hope, and I
(to say the truth) with much fear. When we
came into the nursery, it was knocking in the
next room; when we went there it was knock-
ing in the nursery; and there it continued to
knock, though we came in, and particularly at
the head of the bed (which was of wood), in
which Miss Hetty and two of her younger sisters
lay. Mr. Wesley, observing that they were
much aflected—though asleep—sweating and
trembling exceedingly, was very angry, and pull-
I


114 The White Ghost Book
ing out a pistol, was going to fire at the place
whence the sound came. But I snatched him
by the arm and said: ‘ Sir, you are convinced
that this is something preternatural. If so, you
cannot hurt it, but you give it power to hurt
you.’ He then went close to the place and
said sternly, ‘ Thou deaf and dumb devil. Why
dost thou fright these children who cannot
answer for themselves? Come to me in my
study, that am a man!’ Instantly it knocked
his knock (the particular knock which he always
used at the gate) as if it would shiver the board to
pieces, and we heard nothing more that night.
“ Till that time my father had never had the
least disturbance in his study. But the next even-
ing, as he attempted to go into the study (of which
none had the key but himself), when he opened the
door it was thrust back with such violence as had
like to have thrown him down. However, he thrust
the door open and went in. Presently there was a.
knocking, first on one side, then on the other; and
after a time in the next room, wherein my sister
Nancy was. He went into that room, and, the
noise continuingfadjured it to speak, but in vain.
He then said: ‘ These spirits love darkness; put
out the candle, and perhaps it will speak.’ She did
so, and he repeated the adjuration; but still there
was only knocking and no articulate sound. Upon
this he said: ‘ Nancy, two Christians are an over-
match for the devil. Go all of you downstairs; it
may be, when I am alone, he will have courage to
speak.’


The Wesley Ghost Story 115
“ When she was gone a thought came into his
head and he said: ‘ If thou art the spirit of my son
Samuel, I pray knock three knocks, and no more.’
Immediately all was silence, and there was no more
knocking all that night. I asked my sister Nancy
(then fifteen years old) whether she was not afraid
when my father used that adjuration. She answered
she was sadly afraid it would speak when she put
out the candle, but she was not at all afraid in the
daytime, when it walked after her, only she thought
when she was about her work he (the ghost) might
have done it for her and saved her the trouble.
“ By this time, all my sisters were so accustomed
to these noises that they gave them little disturb-
ance. A gentle tapping at their bed-head usually
began between nine and ten at night. They then
commonly said to each other: ‘ Jeffrey is coming;
it is time to go to sleep.’ And if they heard a noise
in the day and said to my youngest sister, ‘ Hark,
Kezzy, Jeffrey is knocking above,’ she would run
upstairs and pursue it from room to room, saying
she desired no better diversion.
“ My father and mother had just gone to bed
and the candle was not taken away, when they heard
three blows and a second and a third three, as it
were, with a large oaken staff struck upon a chest
which stood by the bedside. My father imme-
diately arose, put on his gown, and hearing great
noises below, took the candle and went down, my
mother walking by his side. As they went down
the broad stairs they heard as if a vessel full of silver
was poured upon my mother’s breast and ran jingling
down to her feet. Quickly after there was a sound


116 The White Ghost Book
as if a large iron bell were thrown among many
bottles under the stairs, but nothing was hurt.
Soon after our large mastiff dog came, and ran to
shelter himself between them. While the disturb-
ances continued he used to bark and leap and snap
on one side and the other, and that frequently before
any person in the room heard any noise at all. But
after two or three days he used to tremble and
creep away before the noise began. And by this
the family knew it was at hand ; nor did the observa-
tion ever fail.
“ A little before my father and mother came into
the hall, it seemed as if a very large coal was violently
thrown upon the floor and dashed all in pieces; but
nothing was seen. My father then cried out : ‘ Sukey,
do you not hear ? All the pewter is thrown about
in the kitchen.’ But when they looked all the pewter
stood in its place. Then there was a loud knocking
at the back door. My father opened it, but saw
nothing. It was then at the front door. He opened
that, but it was still lost labour. After opening first
the one, then the other several times, he turned and
went up to bed. But the noises were so violent all
over the house that he could not sleep till four in
the morning.
“ Several gentlemen and clergymen now earnestly
advised my father to quit the house. But he con-
stantly said: ‘ No, let the devil flee from me; I
will never flee from the devil.’ But he wrote to my
eldest brother at London to come down. He was
preparing to do so when another letter came inform-
ing him the disturbances were over, after they had
continued (the latter part of the time day and


The Wesley Ghost Story 117
night) from the 2nd of December to the end of
February.”
Mr. Samuel Wesley’s journal confirms this account
in every particular, and gives further details. The
extracts are unfortunately too long to quote here.
This account is also fully confirmed in a series of
letters which passed between members of the Wesley
family at Epworth and Samuel Wesley, brother of
John, who was at that time an usher at Westminster
School. Sam was greatly interested in the family
ghost and wrote: “ I expect a particular account
from everyone.” His father, mother, and sisters all
sent him thrilling descriptions of the happenings and
also to “ Jack.” All the letters and accounts agree,
but details given in some are omitted in others.
On one occasion, when the manservant went
-into the dining-room “ something like a badger
without a head ” was sitting by the fire and ran
past him into the hall. He took a candle and followed
it, but saw nothing. Another time it seemed like a
white rabbit. On three occasions Mr. Wesley was
pushed by an invisible hand, once against a corner
of his desk, a second time against a bedroom door,
and the third time against the frame of his study
door. When he addressed the intruder he was
never answered in an articulate voice, but once or
twice in “ two or three feeble squeaks.”
One night, .when Nancy Wesley was sitting on
the press bed with her sister playing cards, the bed
was lifted up, and she jumped down, saying that
surely old Jeffrey would not run away with her.
She sat down again, persuaded by her sisters, and


118 The White Ghost Book
then the bed was lifted up high, several times in
succession. '
Mr. Wesley, on February 11th, 1717, wrote to his
son Samuel :
“ DEAR SAM,—
“ As for the noises, etc., in our family, I thank
God we are now all quiet. There were some sur-
prising circumstances in that affair. Your mother
has not written you a third part of it. When I see
you here you shall have the whole account, which I
will write down. It would make a glorious penny
book for Jack Dunton,* but while I live I am not
ambitious for anything of that nature. I think
that is all, but blessings from your loving father.
“ SAM WEs1.EY.”
However, Mr. Wesley was premature in saying
that this was the end, for in the following March,
when he was dining with his family, his trencher
began dancing about on the table. Indeed, “ Old
Jeffrey ” visited Emilia Wesley, then Mrs. Harper,
thirty-four years later, and always on the eve of
some trouble.
1! Ii IB * *
Attempts have, of course, been made to explain
away the ghost story of Epworth. The noises have
been attributed to several causes. Dr. Priestley, in
his preface to “ Original Letters of -John Wesley,”
says he thought the whole affair trickery by servants.
The servants, however, at that time Robin Brown,
" A relative, who was an author.


The Wesley Ghost Story I19
Betty Massey, and Nancy Marshall, were beyond
suspicion, and were nearly frightened to death
themselves. Dr. Salmon, in an article in the Fort-
nightly Review, attributes the noises to Hetty, be-
cause she was described as a lively girl, and is the
only one who gave no evidence. Hetty, however,
it will be remembered, was in bed when her father
was addressing the ghost, besides which she could '
hardly contrive a “ badger without a head ” or the
other ghostly sights. If the noises were trickery on
the part of Hetty, how could they be heard thirty-
four years later by Emilia Wesley (then Mrs. Harper)
in London ?
On the other hand, Mrs. Wesley, whose strohg,
noble character has earned her the title of “ the
Mother of Methodism,” firmly believed that the
disturbances were supernatural, and wrote full
accounts of them herself to her son Sam. Her
daughters Emilia, Hetty, Molly, Susannah, and
Nancy shared this belief implicitly. The Rev. Mr.
Hoole, who prevented Mr. Wesley from firing at
the ghost lest it should injure him in return, was
also a believer. John Wesley was inclined to think
that the ghost was an evil spirit sent to punish his
father for the rash vow he had made fifteen years
before, and for leaving his wife for a year because
she refused to pray for William of Orange.
Southey, who wrote the “ Life of Wesley,” did
the same, and admits that he is “ as deeply and
fully persuaded as John Wesley was that the spirits
of the departed are sometimes permitted to mani-
fest themselves,” though he differs from John
Wesley in not believing in witchcraft, and in


rzo The White Ghost Book
doubting the reality of demoniacal possession. He
looks upon the occurrences at Epworth as supernatural,
and Dr. Adam Clarke, author of “ Memoirs of the
Wesley Family,” takes the same view. In fact, it
is impossible to do otherwise, considering the weight
of strong evidence given by a family of unimpeach-
able honour like the Wesleys.
John Wesley was a firm believer in apparitions,
and considered them as helping to confirm the truths
of the Bible. He has left us this remarkable passage
in his writings: “ It is true that the English in
general, and, indeed, most of the men in Europe,
have given up all accounts of witches and apparitions
as mere old wives’ fables. I am sorry for it, and I
willingly take this opportunity of entering my solemn
protest against this violent compliment which so
many that believe the Bible pay to those who do
not believe it. . . . They well know, whether
Christians know it or not, that the giving up witch-
craft is, in effect, giving up the Bible. And they
know, on the other hand, that if but one account
of the intercourse of men with separate spirits be
admitted, their whole castle in the air—deism,
atheism, materialism—falls to the ground.”
“ Some years since,” says a writer in Notes and
Queries, September 4th, 1909, “ when a wing was
added to the rectory house at Epworth, the builder
showed me some charred timbers which were said
to have formed part of the former house in which
John Wesley was born. This old house was so far
destroyed by the fire that it had to be entirely pulled
down, and the new one was built on a different plan,
and not exactly on the same site.”


TWO SOUTH AFRICAN STORIES
THE UNSEEN Hnrn-T111: Dnmcrnn Karma
I AM indebted for the following true stories to a lady
well-known in Johannesburg, to whom the incidents
related actually happened. She gave me the stories
herself while on a visit to London:
“ Some years ago we were living in a seaport town
in South Africa. The house was built over a bank,
and after the architect had designed it my mother
suggested certain alterations in portions of the
house, which were carried out. When the incident
I am going to describe happened, the house had
been enlarged and a landing had been thrown into
one room to make it larger.
“ My bedroom had been our night nursery when
we were children, so I slept in it without fear, especi-
ally as we had lived thirteen years in the house and
no one had lived there before us.
“ One night, however, I woke up suddenly, feel-
ing very queer, and with a conviction that there
was somebody in the room. I looked round, and it
seemed to me that there was a shadow between my
eyes and the pale light of the moon coming in through
the cracks of the venetian blinds. The shadow was
indefinite in form, but I saw there was something
there, and, although terribly frightened, I held my
breath and watched it—fascinated.
“ As I looked it faded slowly away, and the next
thing I knew was that my elbow was grasped firmly
by an unseen hand. I was lying in the middle of
X2!


122 The White Ghost Book
the bed, which was next to the wall, with the mos-
quito net carefully drawn over it, and my elbow
was on the wall side, so no living person could have
come into the room and taken hold of it. I will
draw you a rough plan of the house to make this
quite clear and also to explain what follows.
liiiiiliiii
III! I |
||'4.1a"iii






O /9 c/-/v c
¢/a;;;;‘;;vI/


“ Presently the grasp on my elbow relaxed ; there
was no sound. Everything was deadly still, and in
the silence I heard the church clock strike three. I
remember nothing more, and must have fainted.
“ Next day I said nothing about what had hap-
pened—I knew my brothers would roar with laughter
and chaff me unmercifully. But my mind was so
full of it that the day after that I felt I must tell


The Unseen Hand 123
someone, and I told my mother all about it. She
is one of the most level-headed, common-sense people
I have ever known, and therefore I was surprised
when, instead of laughing at me, she looked very
serious. and questioned me closely. I asked her if
she had heard anything that night, as her room
was next door to mine, and one of the children
slept with her. She said she had, but that she had
said nothing about it. Now that I had also had
such a strange experience it fitted in, in a most
extraordinary way, with one of her own on the
same night.
“ She was sleeping, as I have said, in the next
room with my little brother. The room was a very
large one, with a door in one corner. She remem-
bered distinctly having locked the door as usual,
which she always did, and she went to sleep soon
after.
“ She awoke suddenly, feeling the bed heave
under her, and at once thought there must be a
burglar in the room. She lay still, and in a few
moments it heaved again, and so violently that it
woke my little brother, who sat up. My mother
put her hand over his face and told him to lie down,
and he went to sleep again. Meanwhile, all was
still. Then my mother got out of bed, and as she
did so she heard the clock strike three.
“ She went towards the electric light to turn it
on, but before she could get to the light the door-,
which was standing wide open, hit her full in the
face. She lighted a candle, and being very fearless,
went all over the house, but everything was per-
fectly quiet, the front door locked, and not the


124 The White Ghost Book
slightest trace of anyone having come in. She
examined every door and window. My father and
four more brothers were sleeping in the house and
heard nothing.
“ Whatever it was that gave me that fright,
frightened us both.
“ Most extraordinary of all, I came to Johannes-
burg eighteen months after to visit some cousins, who
had stayed in that same house during the Boer
War while we were in England. We were talking
one day about ghosts, and I happened to say I had
had a funny experience at home one night.
“ The girls looked at each other, and one said:
‘ I bet I know which room it was in.’
“ ‘ So do I,’ said the other.
“ They named the room, and said that not one
of them would sleep in it, as there were such extra-
ordinary sounds there. When the house was full they
had sometimes slept three in a room rather than go
into it.”
Ill If * I l
“ Another strange experience I had was about
three years ago. My brother and I were looking out
for a house, and we heard of one to let furnished
in a small mining town at an absurdly low rent,
the owner having gone to Durban.
“ The rent was so small that I asked my brother
if the drains were all right, and he said he had had
them thoroughly examined. There were three bed-
rooms, a sitting-room, dining-room, and kitchen, and
a small garden at the back, and it was really a charm-
ing little place. We took it for three months and
settled in, and for about a month nothing happened.


The Dejected Kafir 125
“ The room in which what I am going to tell
you about took place was my bedroom. I was
sleeping alone, my brother and a girl friend of mine
occupying the other two bedrooms.
“ One morning, very early—it was about five
Back Cordon
Era/barb K/'/ch: Fr/end’;
Room
Fran} Caro/on


o’clock but broad daylight—I woke up suddenly and
felt someone was in the room. I was lying on my
right side, facing the door of the room, and I saw a
Kafir boy leaning up against the wall in a very
dejected attitude, just inside the door, as if he was
being scolded. I sat up and asked him what he
meant by being there, but as I spoke the figure
vanished. I got up and searched, but the door


126 The White Ghost Book
was locked, and there was no chimney or other
exit except the window, which the boy had not
gone near.
“ Next day I asked my friend—I will call her
Mildred—to sleep with me, not telling her what I
had seen.
“ The second morning after, about the same time,
the same thing happened. Mildred was asleep, but
when I called out involuntarily ‘ There it is ! ’ she
woke up, and asked me what was the matter. So
I told her, but by that time the figure had
vanished.
“ We were both very nervous, but continued to
sleep in the room, and for a short time nothing
happened. One night, when it was pitch dark, I
woke up with a feeling that there was something
in the room, and I distinctly heard soft footsteps
on the linoleum-covered floor. They came close up
to the bed and went. ~
“ I woke up Mildred and also my brother, and
we searched the house thoroughly, but found every-
thing locked and undisturbed.
“ Next night I told Mildred we would watch.
We agreed to stay awake as long as we could, and
if I heard anything I would not speak, but squeeze
her arm, and if she heard anything she would do
the same.
“ We half opened the door and barricaded it
with a rocking-chair and other furniture, through
which nothing could pass ; and though nothing hap-
pened that night, we repeated the experiment the
next and following nights.
“ A few nights later I woke up and heard the


The Dejected Kafir 127
footsteps round the foot of the bed. They passed
on towards the door. I squeezed Mildred’s arm and
she squeezed mine, for the footsteps had awakened
her too. I sprang out of bed and turned on the
electric light, but there was absolutely nothing to
be seen, and the door was still barricaded.
"‘ At the end of the second month Mildred and I
left, being very glad to get away from the house.
My brother stayed on there with a man friend, but
they were also very glad to get out of it when the
three months were up, as they were constantly
hearing strange noises. The kitchen stove was like
a big square iron box, and sometimes at night the
heavy iron rings on the top of it would rattle loudly,
but when they went to look they could see nothing.
They stuck it out, but were thankful to leave and
to get into a house that was not haunted.
“ About two years later I read in one of the
South African papers that some children had been
scared in the neighbourhood of the house—in fact,
in the next street—by the apparition of a native.”
THE GHOST THAT GRINNED
A conansronnmrr, whom I know well, has sent
me the following:
“ This is what happened to me about seven years
ago. A great friend of ours, living here with her
husband and blind mother, was lying very ill of
pneumonia. I used to go every morning to read


128 The White Ghost Book
to the blind mother and express my sympathy. One
morning there was special need for quiet ; no strangers
were to be admitted, or bells rung; even doors were
not to be shut, but left ajar, so that servants could
come in and see to the fires quietly.
“ I was reading to the mother when suddenly the
door was jerked widely open—it had been ajar—
and a most horrible-looking woman stood there. She
had a red face, and a tall black hat with the black
crape veil thrown back, and her features wore the
most diabolical grin you can imagine. She conveyed
to me her rejoicing at a calamity, and sniggered
as if to say, ‘ There’s plenty of trouble now coming
here—more even than you imagine.’
“ I stared blankly but did not speak, because
of the blind lady. Then the creature departed,
closing the door with a loud bang. The mother
sprang up instantly, crying out, ‘ Oh, who is it ?
Who could have done that to wake an invalid ? ’
“ I went to the door, looked out, but saw nobody,
and told the poor lady that it must have been the
wind or one of the servants’ carelessness. Anyhow,
I managed to pacify her, and when I said good-bye
before going home to lunch, I questioned the three
servants closely as to who could have come upstairs
and banged the door so loudly. In each. instance
the reply was practically the same: ‘ Why, madam,
you know that we have the strictest orders to
allow no one up the stairs, except yourself, your
daughter, and Mrs. H. S. ! ’ So the affair remained a
mystery. ‘
“ That very Friday afternoon, in January, the
blind mother was taken seriously ill, and though




The Severed Head
Reproduced from a sketch of the ghostly head that was seen in
a certain London theatre (see page 134)





The Ghost that Grinned 129
she did not die till the following June, she was never
really well again. The daughter never rallied, and
passed away the Monday following that horrible
appearance. It was a great grief to us all, and, of
course, the shock helped to kill the mother, who
was absolutely devoted to this, her only child.
“ The husband has since married again; and now
a new wife and baby reign supreme in that once-
so-sad house.
“ One curious thing in connection with my old
friend happened about six weeks before her fatal
illness. I was at tea there, and my friend-—-the
blind lady’s daughter—was standing beside the
piano. Suddenly I noticed she was enveloped in
a radiant halo of light, transforming her mere pretti-
ness into absolute beauty. Little thinking of any
sequel, I did not hesitate to speak of this momentary
transformation. My friend seemed delighted, and
the mother, calling me to her, kissed me, saying,
‘ Thank you, dear, for telling me. I liked hearing
of it.’
“ Wasn’t that strange ? ”
THE SEVERED HEAD
THE following story was told at the time by Mr.
Walter Herries Pollock, the well-known author and
critic, and former editor of the Saturday Review, and
I am indebted to his kindness in allowing me to
reproduce it here. ‘
Apropos of the story, g.Mr. Pollock writes to me :
J


130 The White Ghost Book
“ It is the only instance I know of two people,
without any collusion, seeing exactly the same strange
appearance in the same way.”
“ This ghost has certain advantages. It is not
the cut and dried ghost familiar to fiction, and
especially in old-fashioned Christmas numbers. I am
able to repeat it at first hand, and I have an inde-
pendent and impeccable witness to do the same
kind office for it.
“ And then it had the privilege—a privilege
surely granted to few ghosts in a theatrical audience
—of dividing the attention of at least two devoted
playgoers between itself and a great actor in the
front of whose theatre it made its first appear-
ance.
“ Was it its first appearance? Or its last, or
its first and last, or is it there every night and never
visible twice running to the same person or persons ?
This last would be good ghostly behaviour, and it
is certain that my friend and I have only seen it
once, though, not unnaturally, we have been on the
look out for it since that once.
“ This is how it was seen. One night I went
with a very intimate friend to a certain London
theatre,* where we had booked a box. We were to
have been a party of four or five, and we had the
second box from the stage on the O.P. side of the
second tier.
“ As it happened, only my friend and myself
* For obvious reasons, it ls necessary to withhold the name
of the theatre, but I will gladly give further information on the
subject to readers who may be interested.—-J. A. M.


The Severed Head 131
turned up, and we sat at opposite corners of the
box—-—a fact which is by no means unimportant
with regard to the ghost’s appearance. The play
was one in which both of us were always deeply
interested, but on this particular night there was
something that distracted my attention from the
play—something off the stage that I could not help
looking at.
“This something was in the audience part of
the house, and when it first caught my eye I could
not help starting, so singular, so vivid, and so terrify-
ing in its nature was the illusion, which I thought
would vanish as soon as I could make up my mind
to take my eyes off it.
“ This I accordingly did. I looked closely at
the stage for some minute or so and then looked
back at the place where I had seen it, fully expecting
that my vision would light either on an empty space
or in some convolution of a dress or a cloak, which
had assumed the fantastic shape I had seen. Not
at all; there it was, as vivid, as real, as startling
as before. Strangely enough, considering what it
was there was nothing revolting or horrible about
it; but it was tremendously impressive, and it
held the attention chained.
“ While I was gazing and wondering, the curtain
fell and the lights in front went up; and, with the
vanishing of the semi-darkness, it vanished also.
Half a second before its complete disappearance I
glanced round unintentionally at my companion, and
saw that he, too, was gazing in the direction where
I had seen it.
“Had he seen it, too ?


132 The White Ghost Book
“ Our eyes met, and I saw inihis the same doubt
and wonder that he had, no doubt, discerned in
mine. Then, during the interval, ensued between
us a conversation in which each, feeling nearly cer-
tain that the other had shared his strange experience,
tried hard to get the other to confess first to his
belief in the incredible sight which, it so happened,
we both had witnessed.
“As thus:
“ ‘ See anybody you know in the stalls?’
“ ‘ Yes; Mrs. --—, young -——, and one or two
others. Did you?’
“ ‘ Yes. Very hot and oppressive in the theatre
to-night, isn’t it ? ’
“ ‘ It is, rather.’
“ Then there was a silence, in which we eyed
each other suspiciously, and then again our eyes
met, just as each of us was on the point of examin~
ing closely with an opera glass the spot where the
amazing appearance had been seen. Then we both
spoke, almost simultaneously, and the burden of
the speech of both was:
“ ‘ What did you see in the third row* ?’
“ Then said one: ‘ What stall were you looking
at T ’
“ And the other replied: ‘ At the fifth. So were
you.’
“ At this the first speaker nodded, and then the
curtain went up, the lights in front went down, and
there, just as before, was the strange presence.
* Subsequent reconstruction and redecoration have been re-
sponsible for many changes in the auditorium ot the theatre, and
the ghost, I believe, has not been seen since.


The Severed Head 133
“ This time there was no attempt on the part
of either of us to hide the weird fascination which
the thing had. When again the curtain fell and the
lights went up, the vision immediately vanished.
We both gave a little sigh of relief from the tension
of watching and wondering. Then we compared
notes.
“ ‘ What did you see ? ’
“ ‘ Tell me first what you saw. What I saw is
so strange ! ’
“ ‘ Very well. It is no use beating about the
bush. I feel morally certain that we have seen the
same thing. The lady in the fifth stall of the third
row is holding a dead man’s head, cut off at the
neck, on her lap.’
“ ‘ Precisely so,’ said my companion, and seldom
have commonplace words had a more incongruous
significance.
“ ‘ Somehow it is not shocking,’ I replied.
“ ‘Not the least, but it’s awful in the old sense
of the word.’
“ ‘ Yes; it is, of course, some arrangement of
the dress or the cloak.’
“ ‘ So one would think; but how, then, should
both of us, from different angles of vision, and
without any kind of collusion, have seen the folds
take the same shape, and that so very strange a
shape ? ’
“ ‘ True. Remark, also, that the lady has moved
slightly, and the slightest movement should be
enough to————— Ah! she has moved again. We shall
see no more of the ghost. By the by, you said just
now we had seen the same shape. That is not yet


134 The White Ghost Book
certain. Draw me an outline of the head ; there is a
pencflf
“ My friend took the pencil and drew exactly the
same outline—a fine profile with a Vandyke beard+
that I had seen, and that I can see in.my mind’s
eye now.
“ ‘ This,’ I observed, ‘is strange indeed. But,
as I said, the lady has moved twice, and we shall
see no more of the ghost.’
“ The curtain rose for the last act, the lights in
front went down again, and as they sank the dead
man’s head cut off at the neck reappeared again
as vivid as ever and in exactly its old position on
the lap of the lady in the fifth stall of the third
row. Nor did it seem to waver or change in the
slightest degree, until, the curtain falling for the
last time, the lady rose, readjusted her cloak and
vvent out of the theatre.
“ That is the story, so far as it has gone as yet,
of the ghost at the Theatre. Whether there is
‘ more to come’ remains to be seen. So far I have
set down the facts and the conversation within a
few words, exactly as they occurred. I was talking
of the matter only this morning to my friend, and,
oddly enough, neither of us can in the least recall
the features of the lady. But here are the features
of the ghost, in case anybody should recognise them
and have an explanation of the mystery of the fifth
stall in the third row.” [See illustration facing
page 128.]


A STORY OF ST. JAMES’S SQUARE
THE following story was related to me by Mrs.
Charles Mossop, of Peterborough Road, Harrow-on-
the-Hill, who has kindly given me permission to use
her name and address and vouches for its authen-
ticity. The events related in it happened to a
friend of hers, an officer of high rank in the Army,
and whose name is well known to me and to the
public in general. Here is the story:
A young cadet of nineteen, having completed
his course at the Royal Military Academy and
been appointed to the Royal Engineers, was spend-
ing a few days in London before joining. One night
he made up his mind to go to some place of amuse-
ment, and putting on his dress-clothes, called a
hansom—it was before the days of taxis—and drove
to a music-hall in the West End.
During the evening an elderly gentleman, of
extremely aristocratic appearance, entered into con-
versation with him and took considerable interest
in his account of himself and his hopes and ambi-
tions. The boy frankly told the stranger that he
wanted “ to see a little life ” before he went abroad,
and the latter offered to be his cicerone for the
night and introduce him to places to which he could
not otherwise hope to be admitted. .
Delighted at the prospect, and fascinated by the
older man’s charm and conversation, the boy grate-
fully accepted the invitation; and they left the
135


136 The White Ghost Book '
Empire together and went off to supper at one of
the best restaurants.
After supper—at which the boy drank only lemon
squash—they went to several gambling-dens and
night clubs, at some of which it was necessary to
give a password, and everywhere the man was re-
ceived and treated with the utmost deference. They
did not actually join in any of- the doings at the
places they visited, but, both being particularly
refined and fastidious, preferred to play the part
of lookers on. Towards three o’clock in the morn-
ing the man asked the boy where he was staying,
and hearing that it was in a direction that would
not take him out of his way, suggested that they
should walk together to St. James’s Square, where
the speaker lived. A
It was a very fine night in summer, and the cool
air, after the hot, vitiated atmosphere of the night
clubs, was deliciously fresh. The two walked to-
gether in the direction of St. James’s Square, and
as they passed St. James’s Church, Piccadilly, the
clocks struck three, and the elder man stopped to
wind up his watch.
They walked down a side street into St. James’s
Square, and at the door of one of the large houses
in the square the stranger took out his latch-key
and said good night, adding that he hoped the boy
had had a pleasant evening. With profuse thanks
for his kindness, the boy asked permission to call
with his father next day, saying he was sure his
father would like to thank him in person. Per-
mission was given and cards exchanged. The man
then entered the house and the boy went home.


Story of St. James’s Square 137
Next day he told his father what had happened,
and they arranged to call at the house in St. James’s
Square that afternoon.
When they did so the door was opened by a
butler, who seemed much distressed and surprised
when they asked to see Mr. . After some con-
versation the butler told them that his master had
died at three-fifteen that morning, that he had been
bedridden for four months previously, and uncon-
scious for twelve hours before his death.
The boy, being unable to believe the story, asked
the butler to show him a photograph of his master,
which he did, and the boy instantly recognised it.
The owner of the house had been a man well known
in society, and his funeral a few days later was
attended by a large number of members of the
fashionable world.

NELL GWYNN’S GHOST—AND OTHER
MYSTERIOUS VISITORS
AN old friend of mine, who lives in one of the several
houses once inhabited by Nell Gwynn, has sent me
the following 2
“ You know Nell Gwynn built this house and
lived in it herself for a time,” she writes. “ About
three years ago we had a very confidential elderly
maid here called Maria, and a new housemaid,
Lizzie—both since gone.
“ One day- Maria said to me, ‘ Isn’t it odd,


I38 The White Ghost Book
ma’am ? Lizzie says she has just seen, in her bed-
room, such a lovely lady, all bright against the wall,
with a low dress round her shoulders. She was so
beautiful that when she looked at Lizzie, Lizzie
was quite sorry when she faded away.’
“ The description of the low neck struck me. I
remembered I had put away, in the box-room, a
framed photograph of the Hampton Court Palace
painting of Nell Gwynn. I thought suddenly,
‘ Perhaps Nell Gwynn doesn’t like being hidden
away in the box-room,’ so I said to Maria, ‘ Do fetch
that photograph and lay it down in the kitchen
and say to Lizzie, “Isn’t that a pretty face?”
Directly Maria did so, Lizzie exclaimed, ‘ That is
the lady I saw . . . yes, that’s her dress—just the
same.’
“ So I think it undoubtedly must have been.”
IF i1 * * *
Mrs. Drayson, a lady living at Hanwell, is very
psychic, and has told me some. really curious things
that have happened to her. Only the other day
she was standing near the edge of a platform of
some station, thinking hard, when suddenly she was
aware of somebody walking towards her. She took
no notice until the person got very close, and then
she slowly looked from the feet upwards to be con-
fronted by HERSELF. She says she stared and
blinked her eyes, and then she was gone-—-or, rather,
the other part of her was. She said it made her
feel very queer to look slowly up from the feet of
another person and find her own face at the top I
ll! O 1! # #


Mysterious Visitors I39
When a girl of fifteen she was staying with some
friends and sleeping alone. She woke suddenly with
an odd sensation, and on looking up saw a woman
in grey with long hair standing by her bed. At first
she thought it was a maid in her dressing-gown, but
suddenly she realised that she could see right through
the woman. With a shriek she slid under the clothes
and lay shivering with fright. When she looked
again later the figure was gone. In the morning she
told her hostess, who said: “ Well, we knew there
was a ghost, exactly as you describe, but we never
knew before which room it was in!”
Ill 1! III * *
The following experience occurred to a friend who
was living in a certain garrison town in Kent. One
morning she opened the staircase window to let in,
as she thought, her own pet cat, but instead, in came
a beautiful white one that made at once for the
dining-room, where her husband was at breakfast.
She was surprised, for she knew of’ no white cat
in the neighbourhood; it made straight for her
husband, and would notice no one else.
“ This happened,” she tells me, “ nine mornings
running. The cat always went for my husband,
and somehow disappeared later in the morning.
After those visits it was never seen again, nor could
I ever discover anyone who owned it. Very shortly
afterwards my husband died most unexpectedly,
and later on I was told that the servants had com-
mented on this mysterious visit, saying they knew
something would happen to their master.”
1 * =lR Ill 1!


140 The White Ghost Book
There is a house in one of the Channel Islands
which is haunted by the figure of a lady. Sometimes
she walks through the rooms, and on one occasion so
frightened a visitor who was staying there by appear-
ing as she was going to bed that she fainted.
On another occasion she opened a door, and a
friend who was in the room distinctly felt her touch
her arm. When the same friend was leaving there
was violent knocking on the window of a room
above; no one was in that part of the house at the
time, and they only remarked it was the ghost.
This was told to a Catholic lady who had a
prayer said for the ghosts in the island, and this
particular one has not been seen since.
THE MATRIMONIAL GHOST
THE story of _a strange honeymoon adventure has
been given to me by a friend. She writes:
“ A very few days after I was married we were
honeymooning in Scotland. My husband had some
old friends ‘living in a wonderful old castle there,
and we were asked to spend a short time with them.
I was shown to my room—a weird, old-fashioned
apartment, containing an enormous four-poster bed,
and opposite the bed, in the left-hand corner, was
a door at the top of a small flight of steps.
“ ‘ You needn’t mind that door,’ said my hostess ;
‘it is all locked and barred and leads to nowhere..
It’s all empty behind there.’



The Matrimonial Ghost 141
“ All the same, that door rather gave me the
creeps, and I said to my husband before dinner,
‘ For goodness’ sake, don’t leave me long alone up
here ! ’
“ ‘ But I must go to the smoking-room with the
other men,’ he reminded me, ‘ though I promise I will
not stay longer than I can help.’
“ I had gone to bed, but the room was fully lighted
still, when that door at the top of the steps opened,
and down the steps walked a little old lady. She
was a quaint little person, wearing an old-fashioned
gown, and I could plainly hear the tap of her high
red heels as her tiny feet tripped down the steps.
“ Terrified, I jumped up, flung on a wrapper, tore
down the stairs and beat on the smoking-room door,
screaming for my husband. When we got back to
our room, there was nothing to be seen, but next
morning my hostess apologised. ‘I am so sorry,’
she said, ‘ I put you in that room. You have seen
our Matrimonial Ghost, as we call her. She always
appears directly anyone here is engaged. But I
thought you would be immune, being already married
——and so very recently. We always think she had
a wretched married life herself, and tries to warn
people against matrimony. Both our two married
daughters saw the ghost directly they became
engaged, and, as regards our youngest daughter,
we have cause for real gratitude.
“ ‘ She was flirting with a very undesirable
young man. One day she flew down to me, scream-
ing that_ she had seen the ghost. .“ Mary,” I in-,
stantly said, “ you are engaged to that man! ” She
then confessed she had becomezsecretly affianced


142 The White Ghost Book
to him the day before. Knowledge is power most
certainly under these circumstances, and I am
thankful to say we persuaded the misguided girl
to give up her ill-chosen lover.’ ”
GHOSTLY FOOTSTEPS
A coanasronnmrr at Weymouth has sent me some
very interesting experiences, gathered from her own
knowledge. She writes:
“ Some years ago I was staying in an old house
in the north to which had been added a new wing,
which was principally used by the family. I was
given one of the large bedrooms, which at sunrise
was flooded with sunshine. Being a bad sleeper,
and unable to bear much light in my room, I moved
into a small room in the old part of the house which
was reached by a connecting staircase, and, having
endured several wakeful nights, when bedtime arrived
I went off joyfully to my small den, thinking I was
going to get a good night’s rest at last.
“ But alas for my expectations! The room I
chose was the first on a corridor with an oak stair-
case at my end of it, and no sooner had I settled off
to sleep than I was aroused by footsteps coming
slowly up this, with the clear tap of high-heeled
shoes.
“ I knew there could be no one moving about
at that hour, so roused myself to listen. The foot-
steps came nearer, and then I also heard distinctly


Ghostly Footsteps I43
the frou-frou of silk draperies. To my alarm they
turned into my corridor and slowly passed my door ;
then, after walking to the end, began to return.
I regret to say I was too much alarmed to wait for
more, but called loudly to the occupant of the room
opposite—the cook—who came across. Unfortu-
nately, she was deaf, so had heard nothing, but I
would not remain longer in that part of the house.
Accompanied by her, therefore, I returned to the
other wing, where I spent the remainder of the night
undisturbed. ,
“ A day or two afterwards my own maid arrived,
and knowing her to be a strong, sensible young
person, not at all given to imagination, I put her
in this room, in order to test the truth of my ex-
perience, of which, of course, she knew nothing.
“ The next day when she came into my room
with my morning tea, she told me of her experiences,
which were the same as my own, and she refused to
sleep there again. I made many inquiries, but no
one seemed able to tell me anything, except that
the house had been vacant for many years, and
that the former occupant, who built the new wing
on to it and had greatly improved it, remained
only a short while.”
* Ill * * - Ill
“ Once, when I had occasion to go up to London
for a few days with my nurse and little boy, I stayed
in rooms at no great distance from Kensington
Gardens.
“ One night I was awakened by footsteps coming
along the passage outside, followed by the sound


144 The White Ghost Book
of a chain being dragged along. I was very fright-
ened, and knowing I was alone on that landing
and that the door between the sitting-room and
bedroom was unlocked, I listened in dread, hoping
the footsteps would go upstairs, but to my horror
I heard the sitting-room door slowly pushed open,
and, whatever it was, entered, dragging the chain
after. Slowly it walked round the table, and just
as I expected to hear the communicating door open,
I heard it sink into a basket chair which was placed
against it.
“How long it remained there I don’t know, but
at last there was a movement as of slowly rising,
and to my intense relief I heard the footsteps reach
the door, followed by the dragging sound of a chain,
go slowly through it and retrace its way along the
passage.
“I don’t know what this could have been, but it
was not an animal of any description, and the foot-
steps were human. Of course, when I interviewed
the landlady the next day she declared it was impos-
sible; no one was in the house but her husband
and self. However, I was quite sure of what had
occurred, so did not prolong my stay.”
THE GHOST OF EGMONT CASTLE
ATTACHED to a certain French castle is the story of
a famous and well authenticated ghost. It runs as
follows:
M. Patris, a soldier of Gaston d’Orleans, went to


Ghost of Egrnont Castle I45
stay at the Castle of Egmont. When the dinner-
hour arrived he left his apartment to go to the
dining-room, but stopped on the way at the room
of a friend, one of monsieur’s officers, wishing him
to keep him company. As the officer did not appear
he knocked at his door and called out to him to
ask whether he was not ready for dinner. Patris
thought it impossible for him to be in his room, and
as the key was in the door, he went in.
His friend was sitting at the table looking terribly
agitated. He hurried up to him and asked what
was the matter. The oflicer, coming to himself,
said, “ You would be feeling quite as astonished as
I am if you had seen the book which is on that
table there move, and the leaves apparently turning
by themselves without my seeing any human
agency.”
The book was Girolamo Cardan’s work, “ De Sub-
tz'litate.”
“ Nonsense,” said M. Patris. “ You imagined
what you saw, or you must be dreaming. You prob-
ably became so absorbed in what you were reading
that you got up, put the book in the place where it
is now, and then came and sat down again, and,
not finding the book, thought it had moved by
itself.”
“ What I have told you is perfectly true,” said
the ofiicer; “ and as a proof that it was not a mere
hallucination, the ghost in the case opened that
door and went out, shutting it after him.”
Patris went to the door and, opening it, found
it led to a long gallery, at the end of which was a
large wooden chair, so solid and heavy that two
K


146 The White Ghost Book
men would be required to lift -it. Suddenly he saw‘
this solid chair raise itself and move out of its position
towards him, apparently supported on air.
Then Patris cried out: “ Oh, Evil One, apart
from God’s will, I am your servant ! ” At his words
the chair went back to the place where it had stood
originally.
Patris was much impressed by this incident.
THE RECTOR’S GHOST
Ar a rectory in the Midlands an apparition in the
guise of a former clergyman visits the house on a
certain night every year. The family who lived
there were cognisant of this appearance, and always
arranged to be absent from home on that night.
However, one year the rector’s wife was seriously
ill, with a trained hospital nurse in attendance, and
as the date of the yearly visitation approached it
became evident that the patient would not be in
a fit state to leave home. It was decided, however,
that the family and the rector and all the servants
save one should spend the night elsewhere, and that
the hospital nurse should be told nothing of the
expected apparition, nor had she any idea that
there was anything abnormal about the house.
She slept in the same room as her patient, and
was aroused about 11 P.M. by someone knocking and
opening the door; and she saw, in the dim light
of a night-light, a clergyman dressed in cassock,
surplice, and stole, walk into the room.


The Rector’s Ghost 147
Although feeling a certain sense of fear, she soon
realised that what she saw was an apparition and
not a human being, and was able to control herself,
and so watch events. The clergyman immediately
proceeded to open a cupboard made in a recess in
the wall, and after vainly searching therein proceeded
to open the various other wardrobes, chest of drawers,
etc., which the room contained. Finally he returned
to the wall cupboard for a further search. He then
left the room, closing the door behind him. Whether
he continued the search in other parts of the house
is not known.
He is supposed to be looking for a bundle of
documents, and he visits his old rectory every year,
on the anniversary of the night he died, to search.
The room occupied by the patient was once his own.
THE GHOST IN TAVISTOCK PLACE
SURGEON-MAJOR Anrumn LESLIE, one of the sur-
geons sent out by the British Government during
the cholera epidemic in Egypt, who was killed at
the battle of El Teb, wrote the following account
of an extraordinary experience he had in London,
and he sent the letter, which he signed with his name,
to the Daily Telegraph (autumn 1881) : r
“ In the latter part of the autumn of 1878, be-
tween half-past three and four in the morning, I
was leisurely walking home from the house of a
sick friend. A middle-aged woman, apparently a


148 The White Ghost Book
nurse, was slowly following, going in the same direc-
tion. We crossed Tavistock Square together, and
emerged simultaneously into Tavistock Place.
“ The streets and squares were deserted, the
morning bright and calm, my health excellent, nor
did I suffer from anxiety or fatigue.
“ A man suddenly appeared, striding up Tavis-
tock Place, coming towards me in a direction oppo-
site to mine. When first seen he was standing
exactly in front of my own door (in Tavistock Place).
Young and ghastly pale, he was dressed in evening
clothes, evidently made by a foreign tailor. Tall
and slim, he walked with long, measured strides,
noiselessly. A tall white hat, covered thickly with
black crape, and an eyeglass completed the costume
of this strange form.
“ The moonbeams falling on the corpse-like
features revealed a face well known to me—that of
a friend and relative. The sole and only person
in the street beyond myself and this strange being
was the woman already alluded to. She stopped
abruptly, as if spellbound; then, rushing towards
the man, she gazed intently and with horror un-
mistakable on his face, which was now turned to
the heavens and smiling horribly.
“ She indulged in her strange contemplation but
during very few seconds, then with extraordinary
and unexpected speed, for her height and age, she
ran away with a terrific shriek and yell. This
woman never have I seen or heard of since, and
but for her presence I could have explained the
incident: called it, say, subjection of the mental
powers to the domination of physical reflex action,


Ghost in Tavistock Place 149
and the man’s presence could have been termed a
false impression on the retina. -
“ A week after this event, news of this very friend’s
death reached me. It occurred on the morning in
question. From the family I learned that, accord-
ing to the rites of the Greek Church and the custom
of the country he resided in, he was buried in his
evening clothes, made abroad by a foreign tailor, and,
strange to say, he wore goloshes over his boots. . . .
“ When in England, he lived in Tavistock Place
and occupied my rooms during my absence.” ’.
THREE STRANGE STORIES
Foorsrmrs ON THE SrAms—THE ORANGE Gnu.-
GRAVEDIGGERS
A WELL-KNOWN composer—I regret I am not allowed
to mention his name—has given me the following
true stories:
“ When at Cambridge I had rooms not far from
the Market Place. I shared them with a friend.
He had a bedroom on the third floor. Once, when
he was very ill, I sat up with him. Between two
and three in the morning I heard a bell tolling. It
was a deep-toned bell, and I did not recognise the tone.
“ My friend, who had been asleep, woke up and
asked what bell it was. It tolled for about twenty
minutes, and then stopped. I opened the window,
but could not hear it outside. It sounded as if it
were inside the house. Each night that I sat up
with him, through his recovery, I heard it, and so


150 The White ‘ Ghost Book
did he. I learnt afterwards that the house was
built on the site of an old monastery.
“ In the same house I used to hear footsteps at
night, and one evening, having been talking about
them to a friend, we agreed to sit up and listen.
At the same hour as the bell, between two and three
in the morning, there were distinct sounds of some-
one walking upstairs. The footsteps came right up
to my door—the third floor—which had three steps
leading to it, and then there were two knocks at
the door, which we at once opened. There was
nothing there, and no sound. We sat up the second
night and left the door open, sitting in the dark.
The same thing happened, but without the knock
at the door. I have never heard an explanation of
this.
1 m w 1- =r
“ The man I sat up with at Cambridge told me
a story of a friend of his—a barrister—who took some
rooms in, I think, Clement’s Inn. He used to sit
up late at night reading.
“ The first night he was there he noticed late at
night a strong smell of oranges, which he could not
explain. He noticed it particularly in his sitting-
room. The next morning there was no smell there,
but in the evening he noticed the smell again, which
seemed to get stronger until about eleven-thirty,
and then diminish. He got quite accustomed to
this. One evening, after he had been in the rooms
for about a month, he fell asleep in his chair, and
waking up was astonished to see a little girl, rather
poorly dressed, sitting at his table eating an orange.
The smell was very strong.


The Orange Girl 151
“ He jumped up and asked her what she was
doing there. As he got up the figure disappeared.
On making inquiries, he learnt that some time pre-
viously a little girl had been found strangled in the
room, which had been empty. She had never been
identified. She was poorly dressed, and answered
in every way the description of the figure he had
seen. When the body was found, tightly clutched
in its hand was a portion of a half-eaten orange.
As soon as possible after that my friend changed
his rooms.
4: =a= as =|= *
“ A clergyman who worked with my father in
New Zealand told me that he once took a wooden
shanty in New Zealand—a one-floor affair with a
passage up the centre, and a door at each end and
rooms on each side of the passage. He heard many
very odd sounds while he stayed there, one of which
was constantly repeated, and he never heard any
explanation of it. It was as follows:
“ Early after sunset he would hear a sound as
if several persons were dragging something heavy
up to one of the doors. The door would apparently
be opened, and several people would walk along the
passage dragging something with them. Frequently
he went into the passage while this was going on,
and though the sounds seemed quite close to him,
he saw nothing.
“ The ‘ something ’ which was being dragged
along would apparently be left, and the footsteps
went out at the other door, and for some fifteen
minutes or longer he distinctly heard, just outside
/


152 The White Ghost Book
the room which he used as a study, the sound of
pick and shovel, apparently digging a hole.
“ The footsteps would then return to the house,
and dragging out the ‘ something ’ to the hole,
would drop it in. He always heard the thud,
followed by the sound of the earth being filled in.
He heard this so many times that he became quite
accustomed to it. He never learnt any explanation
of it.”
THE OLD LADY lN BLACK
THE following story was told me by Miss Winifred
Hall, of Cuckoo, Hanwell, W., who has no objection
to my using her name in re-telling it here:
“ One bright frosty night, about a quarter to
seven, when I was going home from London, I arrived
at the station and set out to walk to my sister’s
house in the village. The house has a lamp before
it, and beyond it is a long narrow lane. There was
not a soul about, but just as I came in sight of the
lane I saw someone coming towards me, and natur-
ally thought it was one of the parishioners; but
as the figure drew nearer I realised to my horror
that there were no footsteps.
“ The roads were as hard as iron and my own
steps rang out with a clang; but the silent figure,
that of a little old lady in old-fashioned dress, came
straight towards me and walked close past me with-
out the slightest sound. I looked at her, but when she
reached the lamp I had passed, she disappeared.


Old Lady in Black I53
“ Of course, it might have been an old lady with
felt slippers on, I thought, but, whoever she was, she
was most uncanny.
3' “ I was very frightened and told my sister about
it, and she said at once, ‘ Ask the rector about her;
your description tallies exactly with that of a ghost
which has been seen by the rector and his wife, and
his sister-in-law, as well as by many of the villagers.
I did not write to you about it because I meant to
tell you.’
“ Next day I went to see the rector and his wife
—old friends of ours—and heard the ghost story.
The little old lady haunted the village, and particu-
larly the rectory, which is just close to my sister’s
house. One day, when the rector’s wife was potting
ferns in the greenhouse, she looked up and saw the
ghost calmly watching her. On another occasion,
when the rector was writing his sermon on Saturday
afternoon he saw a shadow at the window, and
there was the little old lady looking in. Thinking
she was one of his parishioners trying to find the
way in (this was the first time he had seen her),
he got up immediately and opened the door, but
there was nobody in sight. The laurel bushes were
low and nobody could have hidden in the garden.
“ Another time the door knocker went loudly,
but there was nobody at the door.
“ A resident in the village, who has certain occult
powers, has since laid the ghost of the little old
lady. He found she had beendrowned in the river
in a former century. What means he took to lay
the ghost I do not know, but he undertook to do it,
and he did it most effectually.”


154 The White Ghost Book
TWO YORKSHIRE STORIES
THE MURDERED GROOM-—THE BANKER’s Foorsrsrs
THESE incidents were communicated to me by a
lady living in Yorkshire:
“ In the early part of the last century a man was
murdered in an upper room over some old stables
in a field near my home in Yorkshire. These build-
ings, which were sadly in need of repair, were seldom
used except in case of emergency, as, for instance,
for the horses of visitors who had driven over from
a distance and were staying at least a night.
“ However, a certain groom named Jack Simmons
liked to sleep over the stables in the lonely paddock.
He preferred doing this to living with the other men
at the house, probably because he was above his
position and was fond of reading.
“ One morning Simmons asked his master for a
f0rtnight’s holiday, and on obtaining it went away,
but at the end of the fortnight he did not return.
His master, however, managed without him for
another month, and then his place had to be filled.
“ The new man was told that if he preferred he
too could use the two rooms over the paddock
stables. However, when the rooms were visited the
outer door was found to be locked, and on breaking
it open Jack Simmons’ murdered body was discovered.
“ At the inquest three or four people swore that
they had seen Simmons in the distance quite lately go
in at the paddock gates and about his work as usual.


The Murdered Groom 155
“ At the time when he was supposed to be away,
and always the hour given was somewhere between
eight and eight-thirty, one man said he saw Jack
and hastened after him, as he wished to speak to
him; but when he got to the corner gate the groom
was nowhere to be seen. When asked by the coroner
why he did not follow Simmons up the paddock to
the stables, he replied that unless he had raced
across the field he could not possibly have caught
him up, and besides, he had felt a ‘creepy sensa-
tion ’ all over him the last three times when the
groom passed. Asked how he was sure of his man
he replied, ‘ I should know him among a hundred.’
“ Since that time the house in question has been
said to be haunted by a ghost, which always walked
in November.
“ One night in the early part of the winter some
little time before Christmas, and about eight o’clock
in the evening, I was going to visit a relative and
had to pass the house, round which was a very deep
plantation. Although the leaves were off the trees
they were so thickly planted that, even when it was
a bright moonlight night, the corner where one
turned to go up the hill was perfectly dark; and there
was a high wall on the other side. I was walking
quickly when I saw a man wearing a felt hat not
far in front of me. I felt surprised at the moment,
as there was a thick hedge on each side of the road,
but I thought that as I was hurrying I had caught
him up.
“ As he seemed to be a stranger in the neigh-
bourhood, I thought I would walk slowly and let
him go up the hill, and I would wait until he came


156 The White Ghost Book
into the bright moonlight again at the top and see
what he was like. When I got part of the way up
I was surprised that he did not arrive at the top,
so I waited a while. Still he did not come into the
moonlight. I thought, ‘ I can’t wait here all night,’
and went on.
“ When I got to the top and passed the gate
there was no man to be seen. Just then a friend
of ours who was returning from the Wednesday
evening service at the church came up and said,
‘Who are you looking for?’ So I told him all
about it. He said, ‘ Why, you must have seen Jack
Simmons’ ghost!’ He told me the story of the
ghost, and added that his father was at the inquest,
and was one of the men who had said he would
not swear to it, but he felt sure he had seen the
man within the last month. No doubt, my friend
said, his father had seen the ghost of Jack.
“ Although from my childhood I had always
heard that the hill was haunted, I should not have
given the matter a second thought had I not met
my friend, for the figure was so absolutely real and
unghostlike.”
Ill II ll II! II!
“ Many years ago in a town in Yorkshire there
was trouble at a certain bank, for several thousand
pounds were missing. I do not remember the cir-
cumstances of the case, but one of the partners—an
old man between sixty and seventy, who was in
every way trustworthy—felt that in some way people
were fighting shy of him, so he askeda friend if he
had noticed it. Said the friend, ‘ As you ask me,


The Banker’s Footsteps 157
perhaps I ought to tell you that it is whispered that
you are the culprit.’
“ This very much upset the banker, and for days
he had evidently brooded over the matter. His
housekeeper’s account was that for three nights he
walked up and down his bedroom all night long and
greatly disturbed her. Every time he turned in
pacing up and down, he stamped his heel down hard
on the carpet, and at one end of the room he went
beyond the carpet on to the boards, when his heel
sounded louder.
“ One morning he sent a groom with a note to
the bank stating that as it was the anniversary of
his wife’s death, he would not go to the bank that
day. The housekeeper said he did not eat anything
the whole day, but paced first his library, in the day-
time, then his bedroom at night, stamping his heel
louder than ever at the turns. Suddenly the noise
ceased, and he seemed to be walking about, then a
chair seemed to fall over with a thud, and all was
still and she got some sleep.
“ In the morning, after waiting some time for
his bell, the housekeeper knocked at his door but
got no answer, so she thought she would not dis-
turb him for a while. She went again, knocked,
and then tried the door; it was locked, so she went
to the groom and sent him over to the vicarage
which was close by. The master’s bedroom door was
burst open—or the window, I do not remember
which—and the poor man was found hanging from
the post of a four-post bedstead, the chair having
evidently been kicked away from under him.
“ After all the affairs at the bank had been care-


158 The White Ghost Book
fully gone through, everything was found to be all
right and sound, but from that time the business
gradually went down, and the bank had to close its
doors a very few years later.
“ Every year on December 28th (I think that
was the date, but am not sure), at 10 P.M., the walking
of the banker’s ghost begins, with the stamp of the
heel on the carpet, then a louder one on the boards.
For two years the housekeeper remained on in the
house and heard the pacing up and down from
about 10 P.M. until after 3 A.M., when all was quiet.
After that no one would sleep there on December
28th. The house is still standing. I have been in
the room myself.
“ I have heard that several of the poor man’s
friends (there were about fifteen in the party) deter-
mined to sit up one night to test the matter, and
that only three could sit it out; the others had to
leave in terror, as they could not bear to hear the
knocking from above. The house had a bad name
and could not be let for many years.”
THE HAUNTED HOUSE IN THE SUBURBS
Mas. HUNTER, the Red House, Laleham, near Staines,
has kindly given me the following experience :
“ A good many years ago, before I was married,
our house, in the suburbs of London, was damaged
by a slight landslip, and we had to turn out suddenly.
It was December 23rd, and we had about six people


A Haunted Suburban House 159
staying with us in addition to ourselves, so it was
rather a task to find a furnished house big enough
to hold us all at a moment’s notice at that time
of year. My father and mother went round to every
agent in the neighbourhood, and at last found one
not far off. We were a large party of boys and
girls, cousins and ‘ pals,’ all very young and in tearing
spirits, and certainly not morbid or likely to look
for ghosts. This is to me a great point.
“ We settled in, but that wretched house got on
all our nerves, servants included, before we had been
there a fortnight. I can’t exactly explain the feel-
ing, but it just depressed and took all the gaiety out
of us. We snapped and quarrelled and were bored—
all things utterly foreign to any of our natures. The
experience I personally had was this :
“ I had a slight cold and stayed at home one
afternoon in the library—a small room to the right
as you came into the hall. It was the only room
that had a cheerful paper, most of the other rooms
being papered in drab, with brown patterns on
them; this had gay red roses on a white ground.
I was sitting before the fire, tea had just been brought
to me (a tea I liked), my cold was nearly gone, and
I was reading an amusing novel, and felt particularly
cheery and cosy.
“ Suddenly I thought someone had come into the
room; I turned, but no one was there. I could
have sworn someone came in, and then I became
aware (I can‘ only put it in this way) that some-
thing incredibly evil was beside me. I truly froze
with fright. I thought with horror, ‘ It’s going to
jump on me l ’


160 The White Ghost Book
“ I could see nothing, but the perspiration poured
off my face. I had a mighty struggle against para-
lysing fear, then I got up and tore out of the room.
When I reached the hall all fear left me, and I felt
quite safe. I knew how I should be chaffed, so I
told no one; but a week later my cousin, who
shared my room, dashed in while I was dressing for
dinner. She was sick with terror and had had the
same experience, and my sisters’ governess some
days later also had this visitor, while she was looking
over the lesson books in that room. We had none
of us heard the house was haunted, but a story has
been told us since that throws light upon it.
“ A local doctor, a friend of ours, was called in
some time later to attend the daughter of a lady
of title, who had taken the house for a time. After-
wards, when he came to see us, he laughingly alluded
to the ‘hallucinations of illness,’ and told us, as
a proof of it, that the lady he had been attending
had declared the house was haunted, but that he
had told her he knew some people who had lived
in the house (ourselves) and had never seen any-
thing at all.
“ We then told him our experience, and he
laughed no longer.
“ You may certainly mention my name, but I
don’t want you to locate or name the house, as it
is still inhabited, I believe, and it might do the
owner harm.”



L‘ ", \l‘\ S-=\ i‘~ . .
. . , r‘‘ ‘V. ‘ -‘
‘‘‘ ‘ ii I-
' I
1’/zotos: G. /1 ncell, Sandozun, Isle of II'z'.z_''/2!
Knighton Gorges
Showing the old gateway and the site of the ‘ phantom house ” as
vicwed from the rookcry (see page 163)
6





THE PHANTOM HOUSE
THE STRANGE Sronv or KNIGHTON GORGES
THE following strange experiences were given me
by Miss Ethel C. Hargrove, F.R.G.S., author of
“ Silhouettes of Sweden,” “ The Charm of Copen-
hagen,” etc. etc. :
“ Knighton is derived from the Celtic Neithan,
the place of a fight. The mere word itself suggests
a train of thought; and Knighton Gorges has wit-
nessed many conflicts, bodily, mental, and spiritual.
“ The authentic history of the estate dates from
the reign of Henry III., when it was held by John de
Morville, who founded the north chantry, or tran-
sept, at Newchurch Church, afterwards to become the
burial-place of the Dyllington family. The de Mor-
villes came from Cumberland; and, after the death
of John, Ralph de Gorges, husband of Ellen de
Morville, daughter of John, enjoyed the manor in
her right and built a chapel there in the year 1301.
“ Their son left an only child, Eleanor, who
married the celebrated Sir Theobalde Russel. In
1340, after successfully repulsing a French invading
force at Saint Helen’s Point, Bembridge, Sir Theo-
balde was severely wounded, and his retainers carried
him from the battlefield to Knighton Gorges, where
shortly afterwards he passed over to the spirit world.
“ The manor remained in the hands of his descend-
ants until the reign of Queen Elizabeth, when one
George Gilberte, of Whitcombe, sold it, with other
property, to Antony Dyllington, of Poole, in Dorset-
shire. His family continued to flourish there till
L ‘ 161


162 The White Ghost Book
early Georgian days, when Sir Tristram, the last male
representative of his race, had the misfortune to lose
his beloved wife and four children within a few days.
The cause of this tragedy was some bad type of fever,
and the shock turned Sir '1‘ristram’s brain, causing him
to drown himself in a little pond hard by the mansion.
“ The faithful butler concealed the cause of his
master’s death, thus retaining the estate * for the
two Miss Dyllingtons, sisters of the ill-fated baronet.
“ The survivor of the two sisters bequeathed it
to General Maurice Bocland. In 1765 it passed on
to another family, the Bissets.
“ George Maurice Bisset, a man of intellect and
culture, kept open house, and the notorious John
Wilkes wrote in his diary, ‘ Knighton Manor supplies
me very kindly with melons and other fruit.’ Wilkes
then lived at Sandown, and it was his custom to at-
tend Shanklin Church on Sunday mornings, and then,
after meeting David Garrick and his wife, to walk
with them over the fields to dine at Knighton Gorges.
“ The house, an ancient ivy-covered building in
the Gothic style, contained many fine apartments,
and was situate on the edge of a hill. A wayside
road at the rear led direct to some antique earth-
works attributed to the Danes, but probably of
much later date. In the early years of last century
it was demolished stone by stone to verify an oath
sworn by an irate uncle that his nephew, the next
on the entail, should never enter his dwelling. Mr.
Bisset died just as the workmen had completed their
extraordinary task.
* Had suicide been proved the estate would have escheated to
the Crown.


The Phantom House 163
“ Now only the original gateposts, a few stones,
and an arbour used as a potting shed in the walled
garden remain. Probably David Garrick, Wilkes,
and other Georgian wits drank wine and told anec-
dotes to their genial host on the grass plot that then
existed in front of the arbour.
“ Since then six skeletons have been discovered
within two feet of the surface of the vegetable beds.
They were reverently re-interred.
# * * IR *
“ Apart from the interesting recollections con-
nected with Knighton Gorges, deeper and more
psychic associations cling to the deserted spot which
is best viewed from the rookery overlooking the walled
garden and what was once an avenue of stately
trees. Now some of these trees have fallen, and
their dismantled trunks are half covered with rank
fungi of different species, but the scent of the limes
still pervades the atmosphere on summer evenings
and the wind sings softly in the leafy recesses of an
enormous fig tree.
“ But it was a cold, still night when, in company
with a sister and three villagers, I walked the mile
from Newchurch on New Year’s Eve, 1913-14, to
experience from ten minutes to twelve and onward
a marvellous aural manifestation of a lady singing
soprano, then a duet with a baritone, and part songs
to the music of a spinet or harpsichord. Lastly came
some very dainty and refined minuet airs.
“ One summer evening later I was walking
on the road that passes the old gateposts, between
the hours of seven and eight, earnestly engrossed in


164 The White Ghost Book
conversation with a friend, when my attention was
suddenly arrested by a very loud noise, apparently
made by children playing with wire railings. We
could not ascertain the cause, but as there were
several schoolboys about we passed on and thought
no more of the circumstance.
“ It never would have occurred to me to give
the matter another thought but for this coincidence.
A few days later, on Monday, July 6th, I was sitting
on the fallen trunks shortly before 8 P.M. The
thought of hearing again the mysterious music was
strong within me, but I was destined to hear music
of a different kind. Again it delighted my ears, but
this time it was the voices of a church choir. I
listened with great joy till I was disturbed by con-
flicting elements—the self-same noise I had attri-
buted to the schoolboys, knocking the wire railings.
This time it was simply deafening. ‘ Children play-
ing again,’ I reasoned, but it had in it an afiinity to
the clashing of swords.
“ ‘ Do be quiet,’ I shouted, for the sacred music
was hardly distinguishable in such a din.
“ Finding my remonstrance had no effect, I rose
to my feet and approached the spot from whence the
tumult proceeded—the corner of the walled garden.
When I arrived there it ceased, but neither boys nor
railings could be seen.
* * * * *
“ ‘ Neithan,’ the place of a fight. Surely in days
of yore a mortal conflict must have taken place there,
and even now the forces of good and evil appear to
war against each other.
“ Not every day is a manifestation vouchsafed.


The Phantom House 165
I have often wandered on the rugged hillside without
hearing anything beyond the music of birds singing,
or the hurried flight of numerous rabbits, or perchance
the advent of a round-eyed owl. Every spring prim-
roses and yellow gorse strive to restore the long-lost
splendour of the scene, but the atmosphere of ‘ never
more ’ permeates the deserted shrine of old world life.
“ I have been fortunate enough to establish a
link of 150 years with the place in the person of an
aged farm labourer who told me that nearly seventy
years ago, when he was a boy, he knew an old man
who said his grandfather used to work for the Dyl-
lingtons in the kitchen, boiling potatoes for the pigs,
and, he added, ‘ then the tongs would move across
the room by themselves.’
“ The same individual also mentioned a rumour
that a fortune composed of gold coins was buried
in the grounds of the estate.
“ Knighton always had the reputation of being
haunted, and the story runs that a Brading priest
was once engaged to exorcise the demons.
“ Charles I. visited the then owners of the Gorges.
Sir John Oglander, who wrote his memoirs in that
reign, quotes, ‘ They had a park thereon ye weste
side of ye house,’ and ‘ they had theyre chappel and
there manie of them were buried and had fayre monu-
ments ; ye chappel is now turned into a brew-house
and ye church yarde into an orchard.’ The latter
fact accounts for the finding of the six skeletons in the
walled garden, and a barn at a neighbouring farm is
still reported to be the remains of a mediaeval chapel.
“ Thus years roll on, kingdoms rise and fall, new
discoveries made and old faiths questioned, yet the


166 The White Ghost Book
Eternal never changes, and events are chronicled to be
stored in the gramophone of Nature. What has been
remains; actions repeat themselves ; melody is stored
in waves of ether; God’s music of the spheres—
Lingering and wandering on as loth to die,
Like thoughts whose very sweetness yield proof
That they were born for immortality.
Ill Ill =0! # Ill
“ Two years later, New Year’s Eve, 1915—16, I
determined to revisit Knighton with a friend who
had never been there before. We walked from New-
church with a view of arriving in good time for any
manifestations vouchsafed.
“ While walking, I heard the sounds of distant
music intermingled with the bleatings of the sheep,
but I did not at the time make any remark on the
subject.
“ The night was fine and starlit, and the wind
played gently through the bare branches of the
trees. There were no lights in the cottages, and
even at 9 P.M. the world seemed asleep.
“ As we approached Knighton lights were re-
flected from behind our shoulders, so vivid that we
could plainly see our own shadows in dark relief, and
I had the sensation that people were following us,
but whenever I looked behind the dim gloom was
unbroken except for the twinkling of the stars, and
there was not a soul in sight.
“ We settled ourselves at the old gates to await
the trend of events, but a vague feeling of discom-
fort, and that I was sitting in someone’s way, obsessed
me, so we decided to move to another gate across


The Phantom House 167
the road leading into a broad expanse of field,
merging into the long range of downs.
“ The field was studded with lights, apparently re-
flected from the windows of a house, and my friend
observed she had a strong impression that we were
there just in time to witness the advent of some
late arrivals; she could hear the deep baying of
house dogs and the shriller yap of a King Charles or
a Blenheim spaniel.
“ As the door opened to admit the guests, my
friend plainly saw a square white house with ivy
covering the lower part, leaded diamond panes to
the windows, and heard all the sounds of welcoming
and greeting—a confused murmur of voices. Next
a flute and violin could be distinctly heard. Then
came silence; and a man’s form could be plainly
seen standing near a bow window with a tall stemmed
glass with a flat bowl raised as if for a toast.
“ He was dressed in eighteenth-century costume
—black small-clothes, frilled shirt, white silk stock-
ings, his dark hair plainly tied back with a black
ribbon. There was evidently cheering and clapping
of hands (I heard the two later); then a burst of
music, and this time the drum could be plainly dis-
tinguished.
“ From then up to twenty to twelve there were
no sounds except an occasional burst of music, and
fainter moving lights spread over a large area. And,
still more, reflected on the opposite side of the road,
one could plainly see the posts and even the twigs
of the bare hawthorns in the hedges.
“ I walked up and down the road a little way
to\keep warm, and when I rejoined my friend twice


168 The White Ghost Book
I turned towards the wrong opening, misled by the
powerful light.
“ At twenty to twelve, when we were standing
in the road opposite the phantom house, a full tenor
voice lustily gave forth ‘ God rest you, merrie gentle-
men,’ and the chorus was joined in by the whole
party.
“ The lights of the house were soon so dim that
one could see nothing, though, curiously enough, the
reflections on the far side remained as vivid. We
heard nothing more except two weird sounds which
my friend thought the hoot of a motor—I took
them to be the call for a belated carriage.
“ Evidently the revels were at an end, and we
lost no time in taking our departure, for we had a
lonely walk of five miles across country to Sandown.
It was worth it, we declared, although we did not
reach our destination until after 2 A.M.”
A DIARY OF HAUNTINGS
IN another of my books I have re-told the famous
ghost story of Willington Mill,* a house standing
between Newcastle and North Shields, occupied, at
the time the extraordinary happenings took place,
by Mr. Joseph Procter, a much respected member
of the Society of Friends. Since I wrote the account
I have been enabled to read Mr. Procter’s own
account of the hauntings, and have obtained per-
mission to publish it here. Mr. Procter kept a
* Vide " Another Grey Ghost Book " (p. 257).


A Diary of Haugntings 169
careful record of the hauntings, day by day, and his
diary is, I think, of very considerable interest.
* * * * *
Particulars relating to some unaccountable
noises heard in the house of J. and E. Procter,
Willington Mill, which commenced about three
months prior to the present time—viz. 1st mo.
28th, 1835, still continuing, and for which no
adequate natural cause has hitherto been dis-
c0vered.*
About six weeks ago the nursemaid first told her
mistress of the state of dread and alarm she was kept
in, in consequence of noises she had heard for about
two months, occurring more particularly nearly
every evening when left alone to watch the child
to sleep in the nursery—a room on the second floor.
She declared she distinctly heard a dull, heavy
tread on the boarded floor of the unoccupied room
above, commonly pacing backwards and forwards,
and on coming over the window, giving the floor
such a shake as to cause the window of the nursery
to rattle violently in its frame. This disturbance
generally lasted ten minutes at a time, and though
she did not heed it at first, yet she was now per-
suaded it was supernatural, and it quite upset her.
The latter was, indeed, evident from the agitation
she manifested. The kitchen girl said that ~the
nursemaid had called her upstairs sometimes, when
frightened in this manner, and had found her trem-
"' Mr. Pr0cter’s method of dating his extracts requires, perhaps,
a word of explanation. “ Seventh day, 1st mo. 30th," for ex-
ample, means “ Saturday, January 30th.”


.170 The White Ghost Book
bling much and very pale. On examining her further
in reference to this improbable tale, she did not vary
in her statement, but as nothing had been heard by
the kitchen girl when called up, Annie affirming that
the noise ceased when she or her master or mistress
entered the room, and on searching the empty room
on the third storey there was nothing existing to cause
such results, but little credit was attached to the story.
Before many days had elapsed, however, every
member of the family had witnessed precisely what
the girl described. And from that time to the
present nearly every day, and sometimes several
times in the day, the same has been heard by one
or more of the inmates, varying unimportantly in
the nature of the sound.
A few particular instances may here be selected
in which imagination or fear could have no influ-
ence, and afterwards a few causes which might very
naturally be thought likely to produce the noises
will be shown to be inapplicable, leaving the matter
still enveloped in mystery.
On the sixth day, 1st mo. 23rd, 1835, E. Procter
requested one of the servants in the forenoon to
sweep out the disturbed room in the course of the
day, and, being herself in the nursery after dinner,
heard a noise in the room like a person stirring about,
which she took for granted was the servant cleaning
out the room, when, to her surprise, she came up-
stairs shortly after from the kitchen where the other
girl was, and neither of them had been at all upstairs.
The next day one of the girls, being in the nursery,
supposed the other girl was lighting the fire in the
room above, as had been desired, from the noises


A Diary of Hauntings 171
she heard, which proved a similar mistake to that
on the preceding day. It may also be remarked
that the nursemaid first mentioned had left, and
a respectable young woman came to assist till the
term, from whom the affair was carefully concealed.
A day or two after her arrival she had occasion
to enter the nursery, where the other girl was when
the noise was making, which she was prevented from
observing by her fellow-servant talking and using
the rocking-chair. Later, however, the same even-
ing, when she was present, it commenced suddenly,
and she, somewhat alarmed, inquired who or what
was in the room above. On the first day, the 25th,
being detained at home by indisposition, E. Procter
was in the nursery about eleven o’clock in the fore-
noon and heard on the floor above, about the centre
of the room, a step as of a man with a strong shoe
or boot going towards the window, and returning,
and though the noise was louder than before, the
window did not shake.
The same day when E. and J. Procter were at
dinner, the servant, being with the child in the
nursery, heard the same heavy tread (apparently
like strong shoes) for about five minutes. She came
into the sitting-room to satisfy herself that‘ her
master was there, thinking it must have been he
who was upstairs.
The following day the dull sound was resumed,
and up to this day the boots have not done duty
again. It may be noted that frequently the room
has been examined immediately after the occurrence
of the noise. It has been satin, in one instance’
slept in all night, and in every case nothing has been


172 The White Ghost Book
elicited. Several of our friends who have waited
to hear the Invisible Disturber have all, with one
exception, been disappointed. J. R. Procter re-
mained in the room below after the usual period of
operation, fruitlessly, but within ten minutes of his
departure the nurse was so terrified by the loudness
of its onset that she ran downstairs with the child
half asleep in her arms. M. Unthank stayed two
nights whilst the servants were both favoured with
a rattle before she was up in the morning, and
E. Procter heard it once gently when alone in the room.
All the persons who have heard it (and six have been
so far privileged) are confident that the noise is
within the room on the third floor, as the precise
part of the floor upon which the impression is made
is clearly distinguishable through the ceiling below,
and the weight apparently laid on, shaking violently
the window in the room below, when no other win-
dow in the house is affected, and during a dead calm
is, of itself, a proof of this.
It is impossible there can be any trick in the
case. There is a garret above and the roof is in-
accessible from without. The house stands alone,
and during most of the time the window was built
up with lath and plaster, whilst the only other com-
munication with the outside by the chimney was
closed by a fireboard, which was so covered over
with soot as to prove that not a pebble or a mouse
had passed. The room is devoid of furniture, and
for a few days the door was nailed up.
Not a rat has been seen in the house for years,
01‘ at any time anything heard like a scratch or
Queak or running between the floor and ceiling;
5


A Diary of Hauntings 173
nor is it conceived that a hundred rats could shake
the floor by their weight, or cause the window below
to rattle.
The noise has been heard at every hour of the
day, though oftenest in the evening; in the night,
rarely. Has no connection with weather nor with
the going of the mill. In short, it is difficult to
imagine a natural cause having a shadow of pre-
tension to belief.
Those who deem all intrusion from the world of
spirits impossible in the present constitution of
things will feel assured that a natural solution of
the difficulty will be obtained on further investiga-
tion, whilst those who believe with the poet that
“ millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth un-
seen,” and that even in modern times, amid a thou-
sand creations of fancy, fear, fraud, or superstition,
there still remain some well-attested instances in
which good or evil spirits have manifested their
presence by sensible tokens, will probably think
this may be referred to the latter class, especially
when they learn that several circumstances tending
to corroborate such a view are withheld from this
narrative.
Additional particulars relating to unaccount-
able noises, etc., heard at Willington Mill contain-
ing the most remarkable from 1st mo. 25th to the
present time, 2nd mo. 18th, 1835.
Seventh day, 1st mo. 30th. The walking in
clamped shoes or boots was again heard by the
kitchen girl in the nursery. On first day, night,
the 81st, soon after retiring to bed and before going


174 The White Ghost Book
to sleep, J . and E. Procter heard ten or twelve obtuse
deadened beats as of a mallet on a block of wood,
apparently within two feet of the bed curtains on
one side, by the crib in which the child was laid.
The next night J. Procter, before undressing for
the night, had hushed the child asleep in his crib,
and while leaning over it with one hand laid upon
it, and listening to some indistinct sounds overhead
which had just ceased, he heard a tap on the cradle
leg as with a piece of steel, and distinctly felt the
vibration of the wood in his hand from the blow.
This might be a sudden crack not unfrequent when
wood is drying in, but it sounded like a knock on the
outside. Since this time the walking in the empty
room has not been heard oftener than twice or
thrice, of which this afternoon was the last time.
About four o’clock the kitchen girl was going
I upstairs to dress, and calling for something in the
nursery, heard the window rattling, and plainly
heard “ Fatty,” as the supposed old lady had been
called, seemingly engaged in the pastime of a country
dance. Intimidated by the posthumous merriment,
she hastened downstairs to arrange her toilet, the
materials for which were brought down by the new
nursemaid, hitherto an unbeliever in the super-
natural.
On the sixth day, 2nd mo. 13th, the servant heard
in the village that the son of the engine-man, an
apprentice with an elder brother, a grocer at Sunder-
land, had twice, when spending the first day of the
week with his parents who live in the mill yard,
seen a figure in white which he took for a ghost in
female form. She was struck with this, as answering
I


A Diary of Hauntings 175
to what she had herself seen a fortnight ago, which
she had not mentioned to her mistress. These were
the facts:
Having been up eai-ly,in the morning to wash,
and going out of the front door to lay some things
on the grass in the garden (it was about 4 A.M.),
she saw what seemed to her a female figure in white
glide rapidly past. She ran in and told her com-
panion, a woman from the village, who laughed at
her fear, and went out with her into the garden;
but nothing was to be seen.
On inquiry of the youth’s father, the story was
found correct. Between the first and second time
of his fancying he had seen an apparition there had
some weeks elapsed. He knew nothing the first
time, nor did his parents, of the disturbances in the
house. I could not learn that any other person had
seen anything particular ; had any mischievous person
been personating a ghost, it is somewhat singular there
should have been no more attempts to frighten.
On the same evening, 2nd mo. 13th, J. Procter
heard that T. Mann, the foreman of the mill, a man
of strict integrity, who has been two years in the
employment of Unthank and Procter, had heard
something remarkable, and on being questioned made
the following statement: It may be premised that
Unthank and Procter have a wooden cistern on iron
wheels or “ rollies ” to bring water for their horses ;
it stands in the mill yard on the side where the
engine coals are laid. When in motion, drawn by
a horse to be filled, it makes a very peculiar noise,
which may be heard a considerable distance-as
loud as the wagon, especially when the wheels want


176 The ‘White Ghost Book

greasing, and by any person accustomed to it the
noise of its going could not be mistaken for that of
any other vehicle.
The mill was going all,night on the 26th or 27th
of first month, and T. Mann’s place was to mind
the engine till two o’clock in the morning. Going
out to fill the barrow with coals, about one o’clock,
he heard this machine, as he thought, going along
the yard, which did not at the moment strike him
as being out of the usual course; but suddenly,
remembering the hour, the apprehension that it was
being stolen flashed on his mind. It was creaking
excessively from want of oil, and was then drawing
near the yard gates towards which he accordingly
went, when to his astonishment he found it had
never stirred from its place!
All outside the yard was still; not a creature
was to be found. Afterwards he searched round the
premises with a lanthorn, but descried nothing. He
was much puzzled, but it was not till the next day
that he felt himself compelled to attribute the
phenomenon to a supernatural cause. He had not
mentioned it to any in the house lest his mistress
should be alarmed by this in conjunction with the
other disturbances. I
More than once, a considerable time ago, J.
Procter has heard a sound like someone stepping
down the gravel walk, on his coming through the
garden at night, and has not been able to discover
anyone. For two years before, the servant on going
out to bolt the garden gate shrieked out, and run-
ning in, said she heard a step close to her, but could
see nothing.


A Diary of Hauntings 177
On first day 2nd mo. 15th, J. and E. Procter
were informed by their cousins (the Unthanks) that
they understood the house, and particularly that
room in which the noises.now occurred, was said
to be “ haunted” before they entered it in the year
1806, but nothing they knew of had been heard
during their occupancy of twenty-five years.
We are furnished on the best authority with the
following particulars of a recent apparition in the
same house attested by four credible witnesses.
For about two months before this occurrence
there had rarely been twenty-four hours without
indications by noises, etc., not in any other way
accountable, of the presence of the ghostly visitant
to some or all of the inmates. A few days before,
a respectable neighbour had seen a transparent white
female figure in a window in the second storey of
the house.
On the 13th of last month (November), early
in the evening, two of the children in the house, one
aged about eight years, the other under two, un-
known to each other saw an object which could
not be real, and which went into the room where the
apparition was afterwards seen, and disappeared there.
A near connection of the family on a visit, but
for whom for obvious reasons a lodging was obtained
at the house of T. M. (many years foreman in the
manufactory near the house, and a man much re-
spected by his employers), went out as usual about
half-past nine p.m. Soon after going to her bed-
room with a daughter of T. M.’s (a servant at the
'house), and T. M.’s wife going out of the house for
some coals, the latter was struck by seeing a figure
M


178 The White Ghost Book
in the window before referred to. She called T. M.,
who saw it passing backwards and forwards and
then standing still in the window. It was very
luminous—as the brightest star—and likewise trans-
parent, and had the appearance of a priest in a white
surplice. T. M. then called out the relative of the
family and his daughter. When they came out the
head was nearly gone and the brightness somewhat
abated, but it was fully ten minutes before it quite
disappeared by gradually fading downwards—as-
suming, as it grew dimmer, a bluish tinge. Both
when standing and walking it was about three feet
from the floor of the room. T. M. went close under
the window, and also would have informed the
inmates of the circumstance, but finding they had
locked up, did not then accomplish it. '
I
Willington,
5th mo. 17th, 1841.
Since the latter end of the 12th month, 1840,
we have been entirely free from those very singular
disturbances which have been occurring with some
intermission for about fourteen months before, and
as we now appear to be threatened with a renewal
of them, I here make some memoranda of the cir-
cumstances.
Our servants for some time have shown no
symptoms of timidity, and seemed to have no appre-
hension of former visitations. E. Procter has not
been well lately, and has thought she observed
something in the demeanours of the servants in-
dicative of fear within a day or two past. On being
questioned this afternoon, they said the ghost had


A Diary of Hauntings 179
come back, but they wished to keep it from their
mistress, as she was poorly.
On 6th evening 14th, Jane Davison, who came
this term, was alone in the camp-room when she
heard a heavy foot pass over the floor above, and-as
she knew none of the family were there, she ran
hastily downstairs and told Mary Young. They
did not tell Bessy Mann, who was in the back kitchen.
She went up into the same room about ten minutes
after and came running down in a fright, saying there
was a heavy step in the room above. (It would be
nearly five months since‘ she had heard anything
before.) This evening, about nine o’clock, E. Mann
was hushing to sleep the youngest child in the camp-
room. She rang the bell, and one of the other
servants went to her out of the kitchen, and found
her pale and agitated. She said she had just heard
a treading as in heavy shoes on the boards of the
room above.
On the night of the 17th, about half-past eleven
o’clock, J. and E. Procter heard one of the servants
shrieking in the next room and presently, after one
of them knocking through the wall for help, J.
Procter went to them and found J. Davies in a state
of great agitation from fright; her fellow-servant
feared she was in a fit when she knocked for J.
Procter. '
The three servants slept together in one bed for
protection, the baby in a crib alongside. They had
only just got into bed when the figure of an in-
dividual wrapped up in white was seen by Jane
Davies—at the foot of the bed! It was the height


180 The White Ghost Book
of a woman, and was looking towards the window.
The arms were not distinguishable. Jane Davies
had got first into bed, and E. Mann and she were
both much frightened before that by hearing a
rustling as of a person coming through the door
(which was shut) and moving about in the room.
On that occasion they saw nothing and a light
was burning all the time. When E. Mann got into
bed she put her head down under the clothes, and
M. Young was looking to the side where Edmund
lay in his crib. It was at that moment that Davies
looked up and saw the figure. When J. Procter
entered, there was nothing to see or hear, nor was
there afterwards during the night. Jane Davies
was far from well the next day, and the others much
intimidated.
About the 21st Davies was awake at midnight
and heard a moan as of one in agony, but not very
loud, under her bed. Soon after she heard a flapping
in the room as of some article of apparel shaken
forcibly.
On the 22nd, all the servants were alarmed by
the many noises they heard in the evening upstairs
—sometimes on the landing close by, and at other
times overhead. A door was clashed, there were blows
like those produced by a mallet and dull thumps
overhead, noises in their bedroom, particularly a rub-
bing or scratching of the paper nearly all round it.
On the 23rd, J. and E. Procter heard noises in
the room over theirs which suddenly came down
into their own room. Then steps were heard on
the stairs, and a tap at the door. Nothing then had
been heard by the servants.


A Diary of Hauntings 181
On the 24th, about seven in the evening, the
younger children were put to bed. Just after it,
Davies called M. Young’s attention to a noise in
J. Procter’s bedroom, like a “ skeel of peas ” empty-
ing on the floor. They both went and heard it
continue under the bed. Turning frightened, they
went downstairs, but curiosity took them again as
far as the landing to listen. The room door being
wide open, the side of the bed being opposite to
it, the blind of the opposite window, against which
the sun was then shining, being down, they perceived
the shadow of a person move on the curtain from the
bottom to the head of the bed, seemingly walking
on the bed. No train was passing at the time,
nor was there anything discoverable to produce such
a phenomenon. J. and E. Procter and the other
servant were all downstairs at the time. Various
noises were afterwards heard, and in the night too,
both by J. and E. Procter and the two elder servants.
Another night soon after, Davies heard her curtain
rustle, and at one time felt considerable pressure
on her feet, as though someone were sitting on
them as she lay in bed.
On the 29th, about nine p.1n., Davies and E.
Mann were washing their feet in the nursery when
they heard a noise in the closet as of someone moving
crockery ware, and making much noise; then a
rustling as of a silk dress came out into the room
and something hit the back of the chair in which
Davies was sitting. They both ran downstairs in
their bare feet. About the same hour one evening,
Joseph had been a short time in bed when J. Procter
heard him call, and as he was going upstairs heard


182 The White Ghost Book
a rustle as of a female running out of Joseph’s room
into the nursery. Joseph said his name had been
called several times from near the foot of his bed
in a voice like his own.
At night J. and E. Procter heard a drumming
and tapping (lasting for a considerable time) in the
garret. This was repeated at intervals ; and another
night about this time J. Procter heard a thumping
in the garret which seemed to descend into the
room below and from thence, with a heavy fall
into the next room, where it awoke the youngest
child, from which it seemed to bounce into the
room below on the ground floor.
5th mo. 31st, Davies and E. Mann were in the
nursery a little before nine o’clock, in the twilight.
Davies called E. Mann to look at a particular white
object which she took for paper, whirling round
in a singular manner, about a foot above the ground,
on the road below the window. It soon changed
its appearance to that of a cow’s head with horns
and large black eyes; then it assumed a heart-like
form. After that it turned to a greyhound’s head,
then a cat’s head with well-defined eyes and ears,
feet and claws beneath, which were in constant
motion. When in the latter form it looked earnestly
up at them, and moving quickly along the road,
vanished altogether. They were both extremely
diverted at the time, and came running downstairs
to tell their fellow-servant and J. and E. Procter.
They both saw every assumed form exactly the
same, except that E. Mann once saw it take the
form of a human face which the other (E. Davies)
did not notice. The metamorphoses were, indeed,


A Diary of Hauntings 183

.. I .. 3-‘-7:
very rapid, as it was only in sight some three or
four minutes. They did not get to sleep the follow-
ing night till nearly two o’clock, as there were almost
constant noises to be heard—a walking in bare feet
at the foot of their bed, on the landing and running
up and downstairs. The youngest child was several
times roused by the noises.
6th mo. 1st. About half-past two o’clock in the
afternoon Mary Young was alone in the kitchen,
E. Procter and the two nurses upstairs. M. Young
saw a stranger, as she supposed, go past the kitchen
door on the way upstairs. She was surprised at
this, as she had heard no one come in, and the
front door was closed. She therefore went hurriedly
to the door, before there was time for the female
figure she had seen to reach the first landing, but
nobody was to be seen.
She immediately went into the room above the
kitchen where E. Procter was, but E. Procter had
heard no one come up, though the door of the room
was open. She turned pale (and very naturally),
becoming sensible that she had seen an apparition.
The nursery door was shut, and the two servants
within were playing with the children. According
to Young’s description the figure was rather tall,
it wore a light-coloured dress and a lavender shawl.
M. Young had observed the shadow of someone in
the passage immediately before the figure passed
by, apparently bending the body to ascend the stairs.
7th day 11th mo. 13th, 184,4.-, about half-past
four p.m., Joseph, now eight years old, was in the
nursery with the three elder children. He had


184 The White Ghost Book
seated himself on the top of a rather high chest
of drawers, and was making a pretended speech to
the others, when he suddenly jumped down. J .
Procter, in his wife’s room at the time, heard him say
that there had been a monkey pulling his leg by
the shoe strap, and had gone from under the drawers
into the opposite room, and under the bed there. He
said that as he was sitting with his feet over the edge
of the drawers, he saw on a sudden a monkey’s head
looking up at him, with its fore-feet hanging on by
the edge. It withdrew one of them and gave a very
smart pull at the strap of his shoe, and then tickled
his foot. He did not suppose any other but that
it was a real monkey. Edmund, who is under two
years of age, was frightened a short while before by
what he called “a funny cat,” and showed a good
deal of timidity all the evening, looking under
chairs, etc., lest (it would appear) it should be
lurking there. It should also be remarked that he
has no fear of a cat.
Where Joseph saw the monkey—at the end of
the drawers—was not in view of the other children.
When Joseph went to bed, too, he heard a strange
noise in the chimney almost as soon as he was left
to himself, and presently something squeaked in his
ear, and starting up, his ear and the side of his face
went against something very soft and hot. He was
afraid, but did not call out, though the clothes were
pulled off his chest, and when he tried to pull them
back, they appeared to be held a little. Then followed
the sound of an animal jumping off the bed on to
the floor, and by the light carried by someone pass-
ing the door, he saw the monkey (?) again on the


A Diary of Hauntings 185
top of the wardrobe. He called out and got the
servant to search the room thoroughly, but there
was nothing to be found. He tells us, too, that he
hears the sound of somebody walking in the room
almost every night after being left.
The same evening E. Procter’s sister, Christiana
Carr, went home to her accustomed lodging at half-
past nine o’clock. (Then follows the before-mentioned
story of the luminous figure in the window.)
M. Young and E. Mann,'being upstairs in the
third storey, heard a clattering in the garrets, which
made them come downstairs, but E. Mann, looking
back, saw the hind part of a figure in white on the
garret stairs. Nurse Collard was in J. Procter’s
room with Jane and C. Carr. Whilst they had their
backs turned, an animal, all white, like a cat but
larger, ran from the side of the bed. There is no
such cat in the village, and it may be recollected
that the same appearance of an animal was formerly
seen in the window of the same room, from the out-
side, when the door was shut; and on its being
searched nothing of the kind was found. Last year
also a white cat was seen in the garden by one of
E. P.’s sisters, the head of which resembled a pig’s.
On first day, night, eleventh mo., 14th, Thomas
Davison, schoolmaster, having heard of the appear-
ances in the house, went along the road by the back.
It was about half-past eight o’clock. He soon saw
a white cat close to him, and followed it to the con-
duit, into the gut, about twelve or fifteen yards
off, where it disappeared. He went back to the
same place behind the house, and presently perceived
a white animal close to him, which looked like a


186 The White Ghost Book
rabbit. He followed it and it leaped away as rabbits
do, till it vanished down the same conduit. Going
back to his place behind the house, he saw a larger
white animal approach from J. Procter’s backyard
gate, an animal which had a back as broad as
a lamb or goat, and it went in at the mill gates.
Feeling now rather alarmed, not knowing what
animal might come next, he went home. He is
fully persuaded that what he saw were no real
animals.
11th month, 28th day. J. Procter went into the
engine-room about seven p.m., and on coming out
saw what he took to be a grey cat by the fire, which
went out just before him, crouching along close by
the side of the boiler-house wall. J. Procter saw it
apparently enter the wall about the middle, which
surprised him, as he did not know of any aperture
there, and examining it, found none. The moon
was nearly full, but not shining on the wall.
About the beginning of the seventh month the
visits of the spirit again became more frequent. A
young woman of the name of Flamworth, of Leeds,
connected with the Society of Friends, became an
inmate with the family for about two weeks. She,
with the servants, heard the sound of stepping over-
head and various noises which speedily convinced
her of the kind of agency that was at work. As
J. Procter went into the mill yard at twilight, he
saw something about the size of a man’s hand, of
a light colour, which darted about in a zigzag course
before him, a few inches from the ground. He
kept his eyes fixed on it as he followed it, but it
disappeared. There was no wind at the time.
‘a


A Diary of Hauntings 187
7th mo. 9th. Mary Young heard in the night
a heavy breathing as of a person under great oppres-
sion, but in the morning thought she might have
been dreaming, till Davies asked her if she had
heard the panting noise in the night as she had
been much frightened by it.
7th month, 13th. E. Mann awoke in the night
and saw a bright light shining through her curtain
and close to it, quite different and distinct from
the light of the rushlight. Presently the bed was
hoisted up and down from underneath. She called
out and awoke Davies, who desired her to come
into her bed, where she soon fell asleep. M. Young
and Davies heard a hollow voice pronounce a sen-
tence from the middle of the room, but failed to
distinguish the words. J. Procter was several times
disturbed by knockings the same night.
7th month, 14th. J . and E. Procter both heard
the spirit in their own room overhead, making a
noise as of hoisting with tackle or rolling, and like
the noise produced by setting down a barrel on its
end. Also noises in the camp-room, where the
servants heard a raking like a coal rake, and a
scratching of the curtain or top of the bed. Edmund,
who is almost a year and a half old, awakened with
every symptom of being frightened; he screamed
violently, and was a very long time in closing his
eyes again. He frequently awoke in a fright, and
would not be put back in his crib—the sight of it
recalling his emotions of terror. He became feverish,
and so continued the whole of the following day,
though perfectly well when he went to bed.
The night before, about nine o’clock, Joseph was


188 The White Ghost Book
in the nursery with one servant who was looking
out of the window. He saw the head and body
of a man (which were black) dart out of the closet
door and then back again. After that he looked in
and could see nothing. He said nothing to his nurse,
but she noticed he was frightened, and he got her
to “ cover the sheet over his head ” and to lock
the closet door in his bedroom. About four in the
morning he requested J. Procter to pull the clothes
up over him, and he said he would tell his papain
the morning by himself why he durst not look up.
In the morning he told J . Procter as above, and
said he was afraid of seeing something again. The
afternoon of the day on which Joseph saw this,
the three servants were together in a room on the
third storey, and all of them heard the sound of
someone walking in the empty room next to theirs,
and once “it ” seemed to come close beside them
in the room where they were, which occasioned
them to go downstairs.
8th month, 3rd. Since the last date there have
been few nights in which some branch of the family
has not heard our visitor. One night J. Procter
heard something hastily walk with a step like that
of a child eight or ten years old, from the foot of
the bed towards the side of the room, and come
back seemingly towards the door in a run. Then
it gave two stamps with one foot, then there was a
loud rustling as of a frock or nightgown. Almost
directly after, J. Procter heard a noise in one of
the adjoining rooms, and the stamp roused up
E. Procter out of her sleep.


A Diary of Hauntings 189
About this time Joseph said he heard, soon after
being put to bed, a voice from underneath, which
said, “ Queer lad, Joseph.” Another time he heard,
“ Queer boy, Joseph ” addressed to him from the
chimney, and one night, soon after his nursemaid
left, he saw a boy in a drab hat like his own, except
that it wanted strings, and the boy much like him-
self, too, walk backwards and forwards between the
window and wardrobe and touching the key of the
latter every time. He was afraid, and did not speak.
One day, when M. Young was upstairs, she heard
a noise like a bandbox falling on the floor at her
feet. Last night J. Davies heard a voice, like her
mistress’s, call “ Bessy ” twice, the last time forcibly;
then followed, very distinctly, the noise of a
person running upstairs. Davies was up in the
third storey in the forenoon ‘lately, and heard a
noise in the dark room, and then the sneck of the
door sounded to be jerked backwards and forwards.
She saw it in motion at the time she heard it.
8th month, 6th. On the night of the 3rd when
the foregoing was written, about half-past ten o’clock,
J. and E. Procter heard a noise like a clothes- horse
being thrown down in the kitchen. At that time
all the servants were in the adjoining room preparing
for bed. Soon the noises became louder; it seemed
as if some persons had broken into the house on
the ground floor and were clashing the doors and
throwing things about. J. Procter .went to the
servants’ room to ask if they had left all safe, and
found them taking refuge on their bed with the
curtains drawn round, though not undressed. They


19o The White Ghost Book
were sure the doors and windows were fast, and had
no doubt the noise was from the ghost. J. Procter
went downstairs with one of the servants and found
all right. The noises now began on the third storey,
and they (the servants) did not dare for a long while
to go to bed. The same evening Adam Atkinson,
who lives at the foot of the quay, had sent his boy
with a barrow which he had borrowed from his
son-in-law, T. Jackson, at the mill. The boy, being
teased by some rude boys, went back, and Atkinson
brought the barrow himself. As he was returning
about half-past nine, being dusk, he saw (when
about the mill door) a woman he did not know
with a skeel under her arm. She was going down
the footpath towards the pump. He followed and
gained on her, and was near her when she suddenly
disappeared by the pump. He looked all round it,
and could neither see her nor hear anything. Had
it been a woman, there was no possible way of getting
out of his sight and hearing.
On the night of the 4th, Davies heard consider-
able noise at M. Young’s bedside, and particularly
heard the crib shifted, after which there was a
heavy step backwards and forwards in the room.
She durst not look up to see what it was. In the
morning the crib was found shifted from the position
in which it had been placed, so also the bedclothes.
8th month, 6th to 12th. My brother-in-law, G.
Carr, was with us. One night he heard stepping and
a loud rumble in the room above in the middle of
the night. Another night he heard someone on the
landing after the servants had gone to bed, which


A Diary of Hauntings 191
was likewise heard by J. and E. Procter, who knew
it could be no living person’s footfall, because it
sounded like strong shoes on bare boards, and the
whole of the landing is covered with carpet nailed
on. The sound moved upstairs and was heard
overhead.
Another night G. Carr was at supper with J. and
E. Procter; he heard a noise of furniture forcibly
set down in the room above. E. Procter knew that
all the servants were in the kitchen. On the 12th
M. Young’s elder sister called, and was in the front
empty room on the third storey when she heard
the sound of glasses struck against each other in
the little room which opens into it. Also the sound
of a door-handle turning. She was in the nursery
in the evening and heard the ghost walk the floor
above with a heavy step, and then begin to descend
the staircase. She came hastily down, and heard
footsteps pursuing her closely.
8th month 25th. Last evening J. Procter being
in the parlour and all the servants downstairs, he
heard footsteps and a knock in the room above.
A short time previously E. Mann had come down-
stairs much frightened; she had been alone in the
nursery, and Jane, who had gone to bed a little
while before, had been wanting something, and
having attended to her wants E. Mann heard J.
Procter’s voice distinctly in his bedroom, saying
loudly, “ What dost thou want, Jane?” E. Mann
went immediately to tell J. Procter what she had
been wanting, and found no one in the room or
upstairs, which made her come down in a fright.


:92 The White Ghost Book
On the 26th of 10th month, 1841, about nine in
the morning, Joseph and Henry were playing at
the foot of the stairs; they both saw a white face
looking over the stair rails leading to the garret.
Joseph called for his aunt, C. Carr, to come and see
it, but just as she was coming he saw it turn away.
Henry heard it give a great jump, but Joseph, who
was very dull of hearing, did not. They both agreed
in the description of what they had seen.
On the 1st day, evening, about eight o’clock,
12th month 19th day, 1841, E. Procter and C. Carr
were in the nursery with the infant and heard a
heavy step coming upstairs. C. Carr at first thought
it might be J. Procter, but recollected that he had
put on his slippers, and this step was as with heavy
shoes. It seemed to pass into the adjoining room, in
which were some of the children asleep. They soon
heard sounds in that room as of something heavy
falling, and by and by Henry, about five years old,
began to cry as if afraid. The only servant then
at home came up to them from the kitchen, when
she found that he could not speak for some time
for sobbing. He said at last that something had
spoken to him and had made noises with the
chairs.
About the middle of the 11th month, 1841, C.
Carr went with E. Mann into a bedroom about ten
p.m. They heard a heavy labouring breathing, first
at the far side of the room and then very near
them; at the same time the floor was in constant
vibration.
On the 24th of 11th month, Joseph went to bed
about eight o’clock and presently called of his father



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The Mystery of the Red Barn
Showing the exterior of the barn, and the hole from which
the body of l\I.'1ri.'1 Marten was recovered (see page 251)





A Diary of Hauntings 193
i- - ._ .---val --as ‘ : / YE-—.
in some alarm. He said a man had just been in
who went to the window, threw up the sash, and
put it down again and fastened it, and then walked
out. He had light or grey hair and wore a dark
top coat; he had no hat. Joseph distinctly saw
him put up his hand inside of the blind. He was
astonished J. Procter had not seen him. Within a
few minutes Joseph called out again. He had heard
a step from the door to the closet at the far side of
the room and something like a cloak falling. He
durst not look up to see who it was.
After E. Proeter’s confinement, which took place
on the 25th of 10th month, her mother, Jane Carr
slept with her for a fortnight. One night, when
E. Procter was asleep, Jane Carr heard a noise like
a continuous pelting of small substances which at
first she took to be cinders from the fire. After-
wards, as she sat up in bed with a light burning,
she heard the sound of somebody going gently about
the floor, the dress rustling as it passed from one
part of the room to another. On or about the first
of 11th month, E. Procter was awake at night and
heard the sound of an animal leaping down off the
easy chair which stood near the bed; there was
no noise of its getting up and running off, but a
dead silence followed.
8th month 25th, 1841. About midnight Joseph
was awake a long time and saw two women dress-
ing, and thought it was the servants getting up to
wash, and called of Davies, asking if they were
getting up. Mary answered him that it was far
too soon. He was then ratherEfrightened.
N


194 The White Ghost Book
On the night of the 28th, J. Procter heard the
sound of footsteps in the attic and afterwards of
setting things down in the room above from half-
past eleven till twelve o’clock. A little while after
he heard several prolonged peculiar whistles; these
were heard by the nurse in another room. They
seemed to her to proceed from the landing. She
described the noise, not knowing that J. Procter
had heard it. Joseph was shaken in his crib early
the same night, but did not mind it so as to call
for help, though he felt frightened.
On the 26th no one slept in the third storey.
About eleven o’clock Jane Carr and the nursemaid
heard in the room above them the sound of some
person in strong shoes walking to and fro; some-
times the visitant seemed to run backwards and
forwards, moving chairs and clashing box-lids down,
sometimes thumping as with a fist. The noise
seemed to move on to the stairhead. About twelve
o’clock Jane Carr felt the bed raised up under one
side as if to turn her over, giving two lifts. About
half-past twelve Nurse Pollard in another room on
the same floor heard an indistinct noise which roused
her as she was going to sleep. Something then
pressed against the high part of the curtain and
came down on to her arm, which was weighed
down with some force. In great terror she called
out, “ Lord, have mercy upon me,” but heard no
more. The kitchen girl, who slept with her, was
not roused.
E. Procter the same night heard knocks over-
head, and about six in the morning supposed, from
the sound, that the kitchen girl as usual was dressing


A Diary of Hauntings 195
in the room above, not knowing that she was not
in her own room.
2nd month 3rd. On nearly every day or night
since the last date more or less has been heard which
could not be referred to any other cause than the
spirit. Amongst them the following may be noted.
Joseph and Henry having several times been dis-
turbed in their crib, once declared that they had
heard a loud shriek which seemed near the foot of
their crib. On E. Procter going up she found
Joseph trembling and in a state of perspiration from
fright. Henry had kicked Joseph in starting at
the sound.
One evening J. Procter heard a very peculiar
moan or cry; J. and E. Procter and Jane Carr
also heard footsteps and noises which ceased on
their running upstairs to prevent the children from
being frightened.
Another time Joseph said his bed moved, some-
times backwards and forwards; a voice by the foot
of the bed said “ chuck” twice, and then made a
noise like a child sucking. Another time Joseph
heard something say “ that.” He is very inquisi-
tive as to the origin of these noises, and says he
never heard or felt anything like it at Shields; It
may be proper to mention that none of the children
have any idea of the supernatural. Jane, who
sleeps in another room, also told her mamma that
she felt the bed go up and down; also something
go round under her bed; she had not heard of
Joseph or any of us having experienced the like.
J. and E. Procter about the 30th heard loud


196 The White Ghost Book
thumps in the room above, also footsteps in the
night, when they knew that no one was upstairs;
the cook, for company, slept with the nurse on the
second floor. J. Procter one night heard a sound
like the winding of a watch in the staircase.
On the 2nd month lst, Jane Carr and E. P.
heard in the nursery a sound like a heavy piece of
wood jarring on the floor above. It was about six
in the evening, when all the servants were down
in the kitchen at tea. Afterwards followed the faint
sound of a clock being wound up in the staircase.
2nd month 2nd. About one o’clock in the day
Jane Carr and E. Procter were in E. Procter’s room
when they heard one of the nursemaids in the room
above dressing. They heard her come downstairs,
and immediately after they heard a stepping like
hers with strong shoes in the room above. Jane
Carr ascertained that no one was upstairs at the
time.
2nd month 4th. About half-past four in the
morning, Jane Carr, who had been poorly, was awake,
so was her companion. They heard footsteps de-
scending from the upper storey passing by their
door, and going down into the kitchen. They
thought it was the kitchen girl, and wondered at
her being up so early. Then they heard the sound
of the kitchen door being opened, then of the kitchen
window thrown up and the shutters opened, with
more than usual noise. You may imagine their sur-
prise when the kitchen girl came down later than
usual, about seven o’clock, and called in for a light
on her way down.


A Diary of Hauntings 197
In the afternoon of the same day, J . D. Carr came
to the house and stayed all night; he slept alone
in the second storey. Soon after going to bed he
heard noises in the room above, as of a piece of
wood on a balance rapidly striking the floor at each
end; afterwards many heavy beats as with a mallet,
some very loud; also a noise like a person stamping
his foot in a passion. He heard, too, a peculiar
whistle, which he imitated so as exactly to resemble
what J. Procter had heard some time before. He
also heard a noise on the stairs and landing, and
for some time felt his bed vibrate very much; he
put out his hand to feel the stock, and felt it shaking.
Suddenly it ceased. He was quite awake and col-
lected, and though disposed for sleep did not slumber
till about two o’clock. He said he would not live
in the house for any money. The account he gave
to Jos. Carr induced him to come over from Carlisle
next morning to see if he could assist with his advice
under such disagreeable, dangerous disturbances.

On the 2nd month 5th, between eleven and '
twelve o’clock at night, Jane Carr heard a thump
on the landing near the room door, on which she
awoke her companion and herself crept under the
bedclothes. M. Young heard the slot in the door
slide back, the handle turn, and the door apparently
open. A step then went towards the rushlight,
and by the sound it would seem snuffed it. The
light was transiently obscured as is usual when
snuffing is performed. Jane Carr then felt It raise
up the bedclothes over her twice; then Mary Young
and Jane Carr both heard something rustle the


I93 The White Ghost Book
curtains going round the bed. On getting to
M. Young’s side she distinctly saw the shadow on the
curtain ; on getting to the bedboard where Jane lay,
a loud thump, as with a fist, was heard on it. Some-
thing was then felt to press on the counterpane on
M. Young’s side, when she heard the visitor go out
apparently leaving the door open. In the morning
they found the door still bolted as when they went
to bed. In this occurrence Jane Carr heard and
felt the disturbance, but from her being under the
clothes could not likewise see as her companion
did. . . .
On the 19th 2nd month, Jane Procter, about
four and a half years old, told her parents that
some time before, when she was sleeping with her
aunt Jane and Mary Young, she once happened
to be awake. Mary was asleep, so was her aunt
on the far side of the bed. She then saw by the
washstand at the foot of the bed where the clothes
were open, a queer-looking head, as she thought
the head of an old woman. She saw her hands, and
two fingers of each hand were extended touching
each other. She wore something which came down
the sides of. her face and passed across the lower
part of it. She saw all this plainly, though it
was rather dark in the room. She felt afraid, and
putting her head under the clothes again fell
asleep. Joseph, six and a quarter years old, said
he, too, had seen a woman when he slept _with
Aunt Jane nearly three weeks before. (Note.—
Jane told Mary Young in the morning about what
she had seen; she did not tell her father and
mother.)


A Diary of Hauntings 199

Joseph tells that as it was beginning to be light
he saw a smart female standing on the bed over
his aunt, and looking towards him. Her hands were
clasped. She wore a bonnet and light gloves, and
seemed rather pleased than otherwise. He felt
afraid, and put his head under the clothes, but
did not go to sleep. Soon after Mary, the nurse,
came for him. He described the figure he had seen
as wearing a collar, and showed by his description
that it was what we term scalloped or vandyked.
He was at different times very closely questioned,
and was very positive and never varied in his descrip-
tion of what he had witnessed. He also told that
the visitor had light-coloured shoes on. He had
never seen anything since, nothing in J. and E.
Procter’s room, where he usually slept, though he
had heard noises and words spoken to him, and
he had several times been shaken in his crib.
On the 17th, about dusk, Jane Procter saw a
head on the landing which frightened her very
much; she ran back, and was afterwards taken
down by the nurserymaid.
Joseph has been disturbed nearly every night
lately. He says when there is nobody upstairs the
voices are loud; if there is somebody there, they
are lower. He is now afraid of going alone into
his bedroom even in the daytime.
The following are sounds and sentences which
he tells us he has heard: “ Come and get,” “ But
never mind,” “ Hush, bab,” “ No, I don’t wish thee
to.” To-night (3rd 28th) he heard footsteps twice
and felt a rap on his pillow. Two of the servants
were out at a temperance meeting, the other was


200 The White Ghost Book
in the kitchen. E. Procter, with the baby, heard
footsteps, and on her ringing the bell M. Young
came up. E. Procter also heard a voice, but could
not distinguish what was said. M. Young clearly
heard “ Many, many” rapidly pronounced in a
peculiar tone of voice.
(At this point Mr. Procter’s record of the mysteri-
ous happenings at Willington Mill ends abruptly.
He appears to have made no further note or c0mment.—
J. .4. M.)


STORIES OF HAUNTED CHURCHES, ETC.





THE HAUNTED CHURCH AT YORK
HAVE on several occasions come across instances
of haunted churches and cathedrals, which is, per-
haps, but natural, considering the part such build-
ings have played in scenes of murder, pillage, and
romance. Canterbury Cathedral is haunted by the
ghost of Thomas £1 Becket, whose shadowy form on
one of the pillars of the crypt was distinctly seen a
few years ago, and duly reported in the newspapers.
York Cathedral is also haunted by a ghost, who
has been seen during evensong. Miss Agnes Weston,
for whose work for our brave, gallant sailors we all
have such admiration, once gave me a story of a
Crusader whose ghostly footsteps she herself heard
while practising the organ in Gloucester Cathedral.
There is a most authentic ghost connected with
Holy Trinity Church, Micklegate, York. It is so
well known that the Sunday School children, we are
told, were quite familiar with the sight, and called
the ghosts “,.The mother, nurse, and child.” People
who have seen the ghosts from the gallery at the west
end of the church have related their experiences.
The east window was formerly stained glass, and
the apparition was seen about half-way down, and
looked as though it was thrown on a screen by a
magic lantern or cinematograph camera.
A figure dressed in white walked across the
window from the north side. When she had reached
203


204 The White Ghost Book
about half-way she turned round and waved her
hand. Two more figures entered, those of a nurse
and a child. The lady in white, and the nurse
bent over the child and appeared to be bemoaning
its fate, wringing their hands and making violent
gestures of despair. The lady in white went ofl
again by the south side, taking the child with her
and leaving the nurse in the middle of the window.
The nurse then went back to the north side by the
way she came, waving her hand as if saying farewell.
In a few minutes the nurse came back again and
seemed to await the mother and the child, who pre-
sently returned, and when they all met, the bemoan-
ing and sighs of distress were repeated. They all
three then retired by the north side of the window.
The vision made its appearance during the sing-
ing of a hymn, and the louder the music the more
frantic were the gestures of despair. An extra-
ordinary part of the appearance was that when the
ghosts appeared on Trinity Sunday they consisted
of three figures, but on ordinary Sundays the vision
sometimes consisted of one figure only.
Being very anxious to ascertain more about the
haunted window, I finally wrote to the Rector of Holy
Trinity, asking him if he could assist me in the matter.
I received this very courteous letter in return:
“ In reply to your inquiries concerning the Holy
Trinity ghost, I can really give you little information
beyond that which you will find in a book called
‘ Yorkshire Oddities and Strange Events,’ by Baring-
Gould.
“ The facts are unusual in several ways. It was


Haunted Church at York 205
only seen in daylight and in strong daylight. It
could only be seen from the gallery of the church,
and it was only seen in the years about 1875. It
was only seen on the east window. The church has
been restored since then, and the ghost disappeared
at the first restoration, somewhere about 1885 to
1890. A chancel was added to the church then,
and the old ghost window that had been the east
window was, of course, taken out. Some of the
glass in the old window is still preserved in the
church. The old tracery is set up in my garden.
“ I scarcely like to tell you of possible explana-
tions of the apparition. There is one that Baring-
Gould probably has not thought of. It is that the
old rectory drawing-room, which looked out upon
the garden behind the church, had French windows,
and that when the wind blew the windows to and
fro they cast reflections of light upon the window
of the church, which could be seen from the gallery
at the west end of the church.”
I procured a copy of “ Yorkshire Oddities,” and
refer my readers to it for a full account of the ghosts.
The following letter, quoted by Mr. Baring-Gould,
appeared in the Newcastle Chronicle, May 6th, 1876,
and other papers:
“ On Good Friday last I went to Holy Trinity
Church, York, for morning service at eleven o’clock,
and repaired with a friend to the gallery, being
anxious to see a certain apparition which is said to
haunt the place.
“ The gallery is situated at the extreme west
end of the building and faces the east window, from


206 The White Ghost Book
which it is distant some fifty feet or so. It is said
that in the aisle and body of the church nothing is
ever seen. The gallery was full, but none seemed
to have come there especially for the ghost, and,
though many of them afterwards said they saw it,
they were not in the least affected by the apparition,
treating it as a matter of course to which they were
well accustomed.
“ I kept my eyes fixed upon the east window for
nearly the whole of the hour and a half during which
the service lasted, but was not favoured witha sight
of the phenomenon; although others saw it cross
the window and return, and my friend, who knows
it well, called my attention to the fact at the moment,
yet I could perceive nothing.
“ I therefore left the place as unbelieving as ever,
and supposed that either I was the victim of a hoax
or that it required a great stretch of imagination to
fancy that a passing shadow was the destined object.
“ However, not liking to discredit the statements
of many friends who were used to seeing it almost
every Sunday, I consented on Easter Day to go to
the same place and pew. The seat I occupied was not
an advantageous one, a large brass chandelier being
between me and the lower panes of the window.
“ In the middle of the service, my eyes, which
had hardly once moved from the left or north side
of the window, were attracted by a bright light
formed like a female, robed and hooded, passing from
north to south with a rapid gliding movement out-
side the church apparently at some distance. The
window is Gothic, and I fancy from twenty to
twenty-five feet high by twelve to fifteen feet wide


Haunted Church at York 207
‘* ,___.T_ _.,.
at the base. The panes through which the ghost
shines are about five feet high and about half-way
between the top andbottom. There are four divi-
sions in the window, all of stained glass of no par-
ticular pattern, the outer on right and left being of
lighter colour than the two centre panes, and at
the edge of each runs a rim of plain, transparent
white glass, about two inches wide and adjoining
the stonework.
“ Through this rim, especially, could be seen what
looked like a form, transparent, but yet thick (if
such a term could be used) with light. It did not
resemble linen, for instance, but was far brighter,
and would no doubt have been dazzling to a mere
observer. The robe was long and trailed. The
figure was, of course, not visible when it had crossed
the window and passed behind the wall.
“ My friend whispered to me that it would return
—must return; and at the end of five minutes or
so the same figure glided back from right to left,
having turned round while out of sight.
“ About half an hour later it again passed across
from north to south, and, having remained about
ten seconds only, returned with what I believe to
have been the figure of a young child, and stopped
at the last pane but one, where both vanished. I
did not see the child again, but a few seconds after-
wards the woman reappeared, and completed the
passage behind the last pane very rapidly.
“ Nothing more was seen during the service, and
no other opportunity presented itself to me for making
observation. During each time the chandelier pre-
vented me from obtaining a complete view, but there


208 The White Ghost Book
could be no doubt as to the shape, a certain amount
of indistinctness being caused by the stained glass.
“ On the reappearance for the last time I saw
the head, which was that of the child, I believe, move
up and down distinctly, as if nodding. The figure
shone with dazzling brightness, and appeared to be
at a considerable distance—-—say thirty yards or so—
though at the same time as distinct as possible, con-
sidering the obstruction of coloured glass. Each time
the level upon which it glided was precisely the same,
and afterwards, on carrying a straight line from the
spot in the gallery.where I sat through the part of
the glass where the feet of the figure shone, and
continuing that line (in my mind’s eye with all the
objects before me except the ghost, whose position
I had taken good notice of), I found that, at about
four feet from the ground it would traverse a thick
holly tree, eight or nine feet high, and at two or
three feet from the ground a low wall about four
feet high, and would reach the ground itself in the
middle of a gravel yard belonging to the back pre-
mises of the house called the vicarage at a distance
of twelve or fifteen yards from the window.
“ Any person walking between the window and
the holly tree would hardly be seen at all, much less
be seen at the place which‘ the apparition occupies;
and anyone on the further side of the tree would be
almost if not quite invisible on account of the holly
and other bushes and the dead wall. Anyone about
there at all can easily be seen from the many houses
on all sides.
“ If it were a shadow thrown upon the glass of
the window it would, of course, be seen by those



'. A Remarkable Ghost Photograph
Taken at a farm-house near Acton. The g-host of an old woman may be seen looking
through the window (see page 4)





Haunted Church at York 209
who sit in the body of the church as well as those
in the gallery.”
The writer goes on to say that the ghost is said
to appear frequently on Trinity Sunday, and to
bring the nurse and the child on the scene. He
adds :
“ It is said to have haunted the church for 150,
200, or, some authorities say, 300 years, and there
are many pretty legends connected with it.”
After giving a résumé of some of these, the Writer
concludes:
“ Whatever may have been the circumstance
under which the ghost (if it is one, which it is hard
to believe in these matter-of-fact days) commenced
its peculiar promenade, I would recommend those
who have the chance to go to Holy Trinity Church,
York, and see for themselves, though an audience
of the apparition cannot always be assured. A
ghost in broad daylight does no harm, frightens no
one, and ought to interest everybody.--I am, etc.,
“ H. G. F. T.”
The Rector of Holy Trinity at that time replied
to this letter in the York Herald, utterly repudiating
the idea of the ghost, but H. G. F. T. stuck to his
guns, and wrote again, repeating what he had seen.
Legend declares that 300 years ago a party of
soldiers attempted to sack the convent attached
to the church. The abbess, a very brave and noble
woman, met them on the threshold as they were
entering and told them that they should only enter
the convent over her dead body. She added that
if they did so her spirit would haunt the church.
O


210 The White Ghost Book
~i
Another story is to the effect that about 200
years ago a nurse and child died of the plague and
were buried outside the city walls, while the child’s
mother was buried in Holy Trinity churchyard.
Hence the scene of meeting and parting again enacted
on the haunted window.
THE GHOST IN THE CHURCH
THE following account of a curious experience has
been sent me by a friend :
I once attended a funeral service in our church.
There was to be a procession of police, firemen, etc.,
to the cemetery, so I remained in the church alone
after the first part of the service in order to avoid
the crowd, as I did not wish to follow. I only went to
please my husband, who commands the local brigade,
as the dead man had been one of his firemen.
“As I sat there quite alone, a man rose from a
pew in the centre aisle; he was rather small, and
had a short, black beard. He walked to the end
of the pew, crossed the aisle, and, entering a pew
exactly opposite, leant down as if searching for
something under the seat. I watched to see him
get up again, wondering what he was doing, but he
did not reappear. I then had the curiosity to get
up and walk to the pew. There was not a sign of
him anywhere! It gave me such a turn, for I did not
dream he was not real. Just then the Vestry door
opened, and our curate—a:'great friend--came out.


Ghost in the Church 211
“He, too, had remained to avoid the crowd. I
hastened up to him and told him what I had seen.
He said (interrupting me): ‘ Had he a short, black
beard, and was he a small man ? ’ I said, ‘ Yes.’
‘ Well, then,’ the curate went on, ‘I’ve seen him
too. The other day I came into the church alone,
the far door opened, and a short man with a black
beard came in with a pot hat on. I walked straight
up to him, saying, “Please remove your hat in
church,” but when I spoke, he disappeared.’
“We then thoroughly looked round, but saw
nothing. ’ ’
VOICES FROM THE GRAVES
THE friend who sent me the story of “ The Ghost in
the Church ” has also given me the following-
another experience concerning a curate, who, in this
case, died suddenly and tragically. She writes :
“I will call him Mr. Percy. He seemed to take
a great fancy to us, and came here very constantly,
and also regularly on Sunday afternoon. He con-
fided very sad family troubles to me, and was gener-
ally very unhappy. He was anxious we should go
down and look at the extraordinary quantity of
coifins rotting and decaying in the vaults below the
church, and asked us again and again to do so. At
last we did, and we were all amazed at their dis-
array, all not arranged tidily, but some on end and
some upside down. It was queer. I was reminded
qf this the other day on reading a curious story


212 The White Ghost Book
~_
in one of your bo0ks.* I quite imagine it was
caused by the action of the water, being so near
the river, and sometimes the bank is flooded in
winter. I am not suggesting anything supernatural
there, but just mention it en pas-sant.
' “Shortly after this Mr. Percy said: ‘I had such
a horrible experience last night. I was walking on
the path through the churchyard when I heard
such dreadful noises, like voices calling to me from
the graves, asking me to come.’ I asked him: ‘ What
did you do ? ’ ‘I am ashamed to say,’ he replied.
‘I was so terrified I took to my heels and ran as
hard as I could, but they seemed to call after me.’
“Some days later we met at an afternoon party
at my daughter’s house. Mr. Percy said: ‘ I par-
ticularly want to say good-bye to-day to Mr. James
(that is not his right name). Will you come and
be with me? He’s over there now. He was very
disagreeable to me, you know, but I want to say
good-bye now.’ I asked him: ‘Why now? You
are not leaving here for two months.’ Mr. Percy
said in reply, ‘ Never mind. I want to do it now,
as I am quite convinced I shall never have another
opportunity.’ I said, ‘ All right.’ I moved off with
him, and we all three joined in amicable conversa-
tion, and I particularly observed Mr. Percy say good-
bye to Mr. James. Four days after that Mr. Percy
died suddenly. Don’t you think that was queer ‘?
“A short time after this I was sitting alone in
church, and the vestry door opened and our present
curate came in. No one else was in the church.
* The Barbados coflin story, which appeared under the title
“ The Haunted Vault,” in “ Another Grey Ghost Book.”


Voices from the Graves 213

But behind him, most distinctly, I saw Mr. Percy,
looking as he always had looked, making even a
queer little characteristic movement of his shoulder,
and he impressed me with the idea that he wanted
to say something. Our present curate walked up
to my pew; he looked very distressed, and said:
‘ I’ve just heard such sad news. Mrs. Ladram (not
the right name) is dead (she was a mutual friend of
ours)—died rather suddenly. I did not know she
was ill.’ By this time Mr. Percy had disappeared.
I always fancy he wanted to tell me that news and
prompted the other man to do it.”
THE GHOST AT THE WEDDING
THE following London ghost story—the story of
the ghost which appeared to a bridegroom on his
wedding-day in a well known church in the West
End of London—was told by Mr. George R. Sims in
the Referee some time ago.
“ The younger son of a baronet had deceived the
daughter of a Northumberland farmer. He had
promised to marry her, and failed to fulfil his pro-
mise. One day the girl, accompanied by a female
relative (her cousin, whom I will call Mrs. H.),
obtained an interview with her betrayer and asked
him if he intended to keep his promise. There
were reasons for her persistent pleading, but the
young man still refused. He said it was impossible,
that his father would resent the marriage, and he


214 The White Ghost Book
could not afford to offend his father. At this the
girl became hysterical, and said, ‘ I shall not sur-
vive my shame, but I will haunt you to your dying
day. And you,’ she added, turning to her cousin,
‘ shall be my witness.’
“ The girl died in her confinement. Three years
later the cousin, Mrs. H., was passing a fashionable
church in the West End of London, when she saw
a number of carriages outside, and became aware
that a wedding was in progress within. Prompted
by ordinary curiosity, she entered the church, and
found, to her astonishment, that the bridegroom
was the young man who had so cruelly betrayed
and deserted her cousin. When the wedding was
over, she left the church to wait outside and get a
better view of the bride and bridegroom.
“ Then a strange thing happened. Just as the
bridal party was coming out of the church door she
saw the apparition of her cousin. The girl was
dressed in white and had an infant in her arms.
“ Mrs. H. and the bridegroom uttered a cry of
horror at the same time. Both had seen and recog-
nised the apparition. The bridegroom turned deathly
pale, trembled violently, and then, staggering, fell
forward down the steps. He was lifted up by the
officials, and was placed in the carriage and driven
to his father-in-law’s house. On the arrival of the
carriage he was lifted out—dead!
“ The marriage of the haunted man and his
death appeared in the same number of a daily paper.
The story was told some years afterwards by the
clergyman who was minister of the church at which
the tragedy occurred—Berkeley Chapel.”


SPIRITS OF NUNS
A VISION IN FLANDERS—THE Gnosr or Poar ROYAL
—THE Sour. or SISTER PETER—SISTER- Ans DE
THELIEUX
ONE evening, not long ago, a certain officer was
making his report in his tent (in Flanders) when,
on looking up, he observed that a nun had entered.
He appeared surprised. She then spoke to him,
saying, “ Until there is more humility in the world
this war will never cease,” or words to that effect.
The next day he called at the convent to find out
what nun had visited him, but the Reverend Mother
declared it was impossible that a nun had left the
convent. But he declared it was true, and pointing
to a photograph of one on the wall, said, “ That is
I ‘ the one who visited me.”
The Reverend Mother then told him that was
the portrait of their former Reverend Mother, who
had been dead three years. g
This beautiful incident is one of the many cases
that have been brought to my notice in which the
spirits of nuns have appeared to dwellers on earth.
* * * * *
Walton Abbey is haunted by a spectre known as
“ the headless nun of Walton ”; there is also the
nun of Dryburgh Abbey, and there is the famous
French story of “ the ghost of Port Royal.”
The ghost of Marie Angelique Arnaud, Abbess
of Port Royal, appeared a few days before the death
of Sister Marie Dorothea Perdereau.
Madame de Montgobert, a widow, went one day
215


2x6 The White Ghost Book
to visit Madame de Granges, when at Port Royal,
and asked her whether it was true that the Abbess
had appeared. Madame de Granges said that it
was undoubtedly true, and she called a witness and
asked her to repeat the story.
The latter said that two nuns, while in the con-
vent chapel during the night, suddenly saw the late
Mother Angelique rise from her grave, holding the
Abbess’s cross in her hand, and take the seat
usually occupied by the Abbess at Vespers—that is
to say, the first seat at the lower end of the choir
on the right-hand side.
Having taken her seat, she beckoned to a nun
and asked her to send for Sister Dorothy, who pre-
sently came to present herself before the Abbess.
The latter spoke to her seriously for some moments,
though the watching nuns could not hear a word
that was said, and suddenly the Abbess vanished.
There was no doubt that Mother Angelique had
said some solemn words of warning to Sister Dorothy.
The latter told the two sisters how she had seen the
apparition, who had said she would die shortly.
She died, in fact, about a fortnight or three weeks
after the ghost’s appearance.
* * * * *
The following story is given me by the daughter
of one of the most famous violinists. I am not
allowed to mention her name, but her veracity is
beyond question. She was staying at an old house
in Lancashire, and was one evening sitting in the
library with a young priest, who had come over from
the neighbouring town to celebrate Mass the next day.


The Soul of Sister Peter 217
Their talk gradually fell upon supernatural happen-
ings, and he then narrated an experience of his own.
A few months before, he had been asked to go
to a certain convent to say Mass in the place of the
usual chaplain, who had been taken ill. He had
never previously been in that part of the country, and
knew no one there. He arrived late in the evening,
and after partaking of supper, was sitting reading,
when the door opened and a. nun came in.
She came close to his chair, knelt down, and said
in a low, clear voice, “ Father, have you any intention
for your Mass to-morrow ‘P ” The answer being in the
negative, she continued, “I beg of you to say your
Mass for the soul of Sister Peter.” The young priest
gladly consented and the nun rose to her feet, made
a deep obeisance, and passed out through the door.
The next morning, after the service was over, he
was being served with breakfast by a lay sister and
inquired of her who Sister Peter might be. “ Then
you, too, have seen her ? ” exclaimed the lay sister
in great excitement. She proceeded to explain that
Sister Peter had died some months before, and had
been in some trouble of mind, as the new Mother
Superior, who was a foreigner, had not been able
to understand the method of keeping the accounts
of the community for which Sister Peter was re-
sponsible, and had expressed some dissatisfaction.
Since that time she had been often seen, and
was constantly asking for the prayers of the faithful.
* * * * *
This quaint story, similar in character to “The
Miracle,” is told by Adrien de Montalambert,


218 The White Ghost Book
Almoner of Francis I. of France. It runs as
follows:
A reformation was brought about in the Abbey
of Saint Pierre of Lyons by letters patent of Louis
XII., April 22nd, 1513. Before that time the con-
vent was without priest, bishop, or abbess to keep
order over the nuns, who became very undisci-
plined, and reform was called for. Strict nuns, who
served God devoutly by day and by night, were
brought from other convents.
One young nun had charge of the sacristy and
kept the keys of the chamber in which the relics
and treasures of the Abbey were contained. She
did not wish to be subjected to the new and strict
rules, and so she was in despair. Dissatisfied and
distressed, she left the Abbey, and because she was
beautiful she knew she could get on well in the
outside world. Before she went she stole some of
the altar draperies and ornaments and sold them
for a certain sum, with which she lived a life of
gaiety and worldliness, continuing to do so until
she lost her good looks and all her charms, and was
on her deathbed. She was so changed by illness
and had so lost her beauty that those who had
known her could no longer recognise her.
Thus, abandoned by her friends, poor and neg-
lected, Sister Alis, seeing she had no hope, wept
bitterly, deeply regretting that she had ever left
the Abbey. She besought the Virgin Mary to con-.
cede her forgiveness, and promised that if she escaped
from death she would serve God devoutly.
For a long time she lay beseeching Divine mercy,
asking either to be healed or to be released from the


Sister Alis de Thelieux 219
sufferings which she had brought upon herself through
her own sin; then she grew weaker and weaker, and
at last died, not in the Abbey, nor even in the town,
but, deserted by all the world, in a small village
not far away, and there was buried without prayers
or ceremonial of any kind, as an abandoned creature;
and as time passed by no one even remembered
her name.
Meanwhile, there lived at the Abbey a nun who,
at the time of the reform, had been eighteen years
of age, of the name of Antoinette de Grollée, a young
lady from the Dauphiné. She was simple and
devout, and much given to religious exercises. She
had been at the convent in old days, and had known
the dead woman, and, indeed, the latter had called
upon her name for help during her last illness, and
had spoken of her a great deal.
One night Antoinette was alone in her room, in
bed, sleeping lightly, when she felt something or
someone raise her coifiure de nuit from her face and
make the sign of the Cross on her forehead, then
kiss her lips very gently and tenderly. The young
nun rose immediately. She was not frightened, but
merely surprised, wondering who it could be that
should make the sign of the Cross and kiss her in
this manner. She saw no one near her, and did not
know what to do. But, thinking she must have
had a dream, she went to sleep again and spoke to
no one of her adventure.
A few days later she heard a strange sound in
her room, and tapping under her feet. This fright-
ened her, and she told the Abbess about it. The
latter did her best to console her, thinking it was
O


220 The White Ghost Book
the girl’s imagination. But the noises and tapping
continued wherever the young nun went, and it
seemed as though a spirit constantly accompanied
her, rapping out her pleasure whenever divine
service was held, but only when this nun was present.
It became known in the town that Antoinette was
accompanied by a ghostly visitant, and many of the
people of Lyons came to the Abbey of Saint Pierre
to inquire about this supernatural apparition, but
the idle and curious were not admitted.
When questioned, Antoinette said that she thought
her unseen companion might perhaps be the sacristan
Alis, because she had often thought of her since her
death, and frequently dreamed about her.
Then the Abbess conjured the spirit to speak
forth and declare who she was and what she wanted,
and a voice replied that she was in truth Sister
Alis, former sacristan of the Abbey, and that she
had always remembered Antoinette, so made her
the vehicle through whom she could communicate
with the world. Then the Abbess asked her whether
she was troubled because her body was not interred
at the Abbey, and the ghost indicated that this
was indeed what troubled her, and she much desired
that her corpse might be disinterred and buried again
at the Abbey. So the Lady Abbess sent in search of
the grave and had the corpse removed to within the
precincts of the convent.
Nevertheless, the disembodied soul kept on flut-
tering round Antoinette as her body was brought.
nearer and nearer to the Abbey, and when it reached
the door of the church the rapping under the nun’s
feet became violent. Moreover, while the funeral


Sister Alis de Thelieux 221
service was being held, the ghost seemed to have
no rest, though it was not known whether the noise
expressed the grief endured by the lost soul or her
joy at her mortal remains being once more within
the Abbey precincts. The remains were buried in a
coffin in the small Chapel de Notre-Dame, and a
mortuary cloth was draped upon it.
The usual measures were taken to release the
repentant nun’s soul from purgatory. The nun whom
she followed was brought before the Reverend Bishop
Suffragan of Lyons, and was told to kneel on a
hassock specially brought for the occasion. As soon
as she had knelt down everyone listened eagerly for
sounds which might show that the ghostly companion
was present. First the Bishop made the sign of
the Cross on Antoinette’s forehead, and offered up
a prayer. Then he reproached and conjured the
evil spirit to depart. After that he pronounced the
excommunication.
During this proceeding the candles on the altar
were mysteriously extinguished and the church bell
rang continuously. The evil spirit entered into some
of the nuns present and caused them to cry out.
Then the evil spirit was cross-examined as to her
actual personality, her presence in the church, the
ownership of the bones buried in the Chapel de
Notre-Dame, to all of which questions replies were
satisfactory. Then service was said for the deliver-
ance of the soul in torment, the deceased was pardoned
‘and absolution granted.
Later, when questioned as to whether she was
now at rest, she gave nine distinct knocks in reply
(to represent the nine orders of the blessed spirits


222 The White Ghost Book
of Paradise) to show that she had been released from
Purgatory.
On Friday, March 20th, 1526, about nine o’clock
at night, when Antoinette was going to her cell to
bed, a tall nun followed her into her room. She
thought it was one of the sisters of the convent,
but as soon as the nun had entered, carrying a wax
candle in her hand, she knew she had been mistaken
and that it was a stranger. Then she began to
tremble. The stranger turned her face towards her,
but did not raise her veil, and presently she vanished
in a corner of the apartment. That same night
Antoinette was awakened by a voice which said
that the speaker intended to bid good-bye to her
and all the nuns of the Abbey, and that she would
make a great noise at Matins, and that this would be
taken as a sign of her last appearance, and she would
then depart to eternal joy, as her sins had been for-
given her. Before leaving, she recited to Antoinette
five beautiful prayers. Then all was silent.
The next day at the beginning of Matins there
came such a terrible noise in the church that all the
nuns present were terrified, but Antoinette stood up
and said, “ Good sisters, do not fear; this is Sister
Alis de Thelieux, who is taking leave of us. To-day
she enters Paradise.”
On Saturday, 21st of the same month, while the
nuns were in the refectory, suddenly thirty-three
knocks were heard, this number signifying that the
penitence of Sister Alis was complete, having been
abridged by divine clemency from thirty-three years
to thirty-three days, and thereafter Sister Antoinette
neither saw nor heard her again.


THREE GHOSTS OF THE LAW COURTS
AND TWO OF THE SEA


. ,,.-..


THE GHOST OF ANNE WALKER
BOUT 1630, there lived near Chester-le-Street,
in Durham, a yeoman named Walker. He
was prosperous and a widower, and his house was
kept for him by a young kinswoman, named Anne
Walker.
One evening Anne was seen with a collier, named
Mark Sharp, from Blackburn, in Lancashire, and
that night she suddenly disappeared.
During the following winter a miller, named
James Graeme, or Graham, who lived. about two
miles from the place where Walker lived, was work-
ing alone in his mill very late one night, when, coming
downstairs from putting corn in the hopper, he saw,
to his amazement, the figure of a woman standing
in the middle of the floor. Herhair was hanging
down and dripping with blood, and tliere were
several wounds on her head. .
The miller crossed himself, and at last summoned
up courage to ask her who she was and what she
wanted.
She replied:
“ I am the spirit of Anne Walker, who lived
with Walker, and, being betrayed by him, he
promised to send me to a place where I should be
well looked to, and then I should come again and
keep his house. Accordingly, late one night I was
P 225


226 The White Ghost Book
~_,
sent away with one Mark Sharp, who upon a moor
(naming a place the miller knew) slew me with a
pick, such as men dig coals withal, and gave me
these five wounds, and after threw my body into a
coal pit hard by, and hid the pick under a bank.
His shoes and stockings being bloody, he endeavoured
to wash them, but, seeing the blood would not forth,
he hid them there also.”
The ghost then told the miller that he must
reveal what she had told him, or she would appear
again and continually haunt him. He went home
feeling very sad, and for some time after shunned
the old mill after dark when alone, thinking by this
means to escape the ghost.
However, one evening, just as darkness was
settling in, Anne Walker appeared to him again,
this time “ very fierce and cruel,” and told him that
if he did not reveal the murder she would continually
pursue him. Still he hid the story—though the
ghost constantly appeared and pulled the clothes
off his bed—until the next St. Thomas’ Even, when
she appeared to him in his garden, this time soon
after sunset, and so threatened and frightened him
that he promised to reveal all she had told him the
following morning.
Next day James Graham went to a magistrate
and told him the whole circumstances. A search was
made, and the body of Anne Walker was found in
the coal-pit, with five large wounds in her head, as
described. The pick was also found and the bloody
shoes and stockings; in fact, every detail of the
ghost’s story was fully corroborated.
Walker and Sharp were both arrested, and at


Anne Walker’s Ghost 227
the Durham Assizes were arraigned, found guilty,
condemned, and executed.
Another extraordinary circumstance was that at
the trial, which was in August, 1631, before Judge
Davenport, a man named George Fairbain, of Ford,
near Lanchester, affirmed on oath that he saw the
likeness of a child stand upon Walkefs shoulder. At
this the judge was very troubled, and “ gave sen-
tence that night the trial was, which was a thing
never used in Durham, before or after.”
It is believed that Fairbain was foreman of the
jury, so the judge was very much troubled lest he
himself might see the same apparition. Some
accounts say that he did see it.
Graeme’s original deposition is in the Bodleian
Library (Tanner’s MSS.).
Dr. Webster, Mr. William Lumley, of Great
Lumley——-who was present at the trial—Mr. John
Smart, of Durham, and others, have borne testimony
to the truth of the story. Mr. Lumley saw and
read a letter, containing a narrative of the whole busi-
ness, that was sent by the judge before whom Walker
and Sharp were tried, and kept a copy of it until 1658,
when it was stolen with other books and papers. A
Mr. Shepherdson also collected first-hand evidence of
the truth of the story, and Surtees relates it‘very fully
in his “ History of Durham.”
""“~\-.


228 The White Ghost Book
THE CASE OF SERGEANT DAVIES
Two men, Duncan Terig, alias Clerk, of Gleneye,
and Alexander Bain Macdonald, of Invercauld, were
brought up for trial before the High Court of Justice
at Edinburgh, June 11th, 1754-, for the murder of
Sergeant Arthur Davies, of Lieut.-General Guise’s
regiment, on September 28th, 1749.
The trial, which began at seven in the morning,
lasted until about four the next day, and was
remarkable in that it was the last on record in
which a ghost was admitted as evidence.
One of the witnesses, Alexander Macpherson, a
country servant lad of about twenty-six, deposed
that one night when he was in bed in a shealing
(Highland hut) in the summer of 1750, in which
other people were also sleeping, a man dressed in
blue came to his bedside. The lad took him to be
a brother of Donald Farquarson, of Glendee, and
on being commanded to get up and follow him
out of the room, did so. When they got outside, the
man in blue said to Macpherson: “ I am Sergeant
Davies.” He then pointed to a place on the moors
where he said his bones would be found, and desired
Macpherson to go and bury them, and said he could
ask Donald Farquarson to assist him.
He described the place so exactly that Macpherson,
on going to look for the bones (not telling anyone
about the vision he had seen), went directly to within
a yard of where they lay.
There in the peat moss he found a human body,
badly decomposed, with the remains of a blue coat


The Case of Sergeant Davies 229
upon it. With the aid of his stick he drew out
the body and laid it on open ground, and during
the removal some of the bones separated from the
others. He did not bury the body, but left it there.
Another night the ghost appeared to him again,
and once more urged him to bury the body. Mac-
pherson asked the ghost who it was who had mur-
dered him, and the ghost replied that it was Duncan
Clerk and Alexander Macdonald.
Asked in cross-examination what language they
conversed in, Macpherson said that the ghost spoke
with him in Gaelic. The ghost then disappeared
“in the twinkling of an eye.” Macpherson told none
of the people in the shealing of his experience, but
a woman named Mabel Machardie, of Invery, who
was in the shealing, had since said that she, too,
had seen the ghost and had told the witness him-
self so.
Macpherson went on to say that he related the
story of the vision to John Grewar, of Duldowrie,
and to the afore-mentioned Donald Farquarson,
whose brother he had first taken the ghost to be,
and that Farquarson went along with him to where
the bones lay, and together they buried them.
The next witness, Mabel Machardie, deposed that
one night, about four years before, when she was
lying asleep at one end of the shealing, she saw
something uncanny come in at the door, which fright-
ened her so much that she drew the clothes over
her head. She said that it appeared in a bowing
position, and she could not tell what it was. Next
morning she asked Macpherson what it was that
had disturbed them during the night, and he said


23o The White Ghost Book

she could be easy in her mind about it, for it would
not trouble her any more.
Next came Donald Farquarson, of Glendee, who
said that Macpherson had told him about the appear-
ance of the ghost, and that he was induced to go along
with him to bury the body because he feared that
the apparition might appear to and trouble him.
He deposed that they found the bones in a bed
of peat-moss, not lying all together, but scattered,
some of them at a distance of several yards from one
another, and the hair lying by itself, separated from
the body. The flesh was nearly all gone from the
bones, and some blue cloth, all in rags, was lying,
partly under the body and partly beside it. The
witness asked Macpherson if the ghost had ordered
him to lay the bones in a churchyard, and Mac-
pherson had said “No,” so they agreed to bury
the body in the moss. They then dug a hole with
the shovel Macpherson had brought, and buried the
bones, laying part of the blue cloth under them and
part above them, and covered all with turf.
John Grewar, of Duldowrie, was the next witness.
He deposed that about four years before he was
told by Alexander Macpherson that the ghost of
Sergeant Davies had appeared to him and desired
him to bury his bones, and to take Donald Farquar-
son with him; and that some time after, when they
were on the hill together, Macpherson pointed out
to him the place where the bones were found.
After this extraordinary evidence the jury retired
to consider their verdict, and returned a verdict of
Not Guilty. The prisoners were therefore acquitted.


A GHOST CALLED IN COURT AS WITNESS
THE following instance of a man being tried for
murder on the evidence of a ghost-story merits a
place here, because it is the only case on record
of a ghost being called in court to give evidence.
A farmer who was coming home from market at
Southam, in Warwickshire, was attacked and mur-
dered, his body being thrown into a chalk-pit. Next
morning a man came to his wife and asked her if
her husband had returned home. She said he had
not, and that she had suffered the utmost anxiety
and terror on his account.
“ Your terror,” said the visitor, ‘is nothing to
mine. Last night, as I lay in bed, wide awake, the
ghost of your husband appeared, and showing me
several ghastly stabs in his body, told me he had
been murdered by So-and-So (mentioning the name),
and his body thrown into the chalk-pit.”
The farmer’s wife gave the alarm, the chalk-pit
was searched, and the farmer’s body found covered
with wounds as described. The man mentioned,
whom the ghost had accused, was arrested and
committed for trial.
The case came on at Warwick before Lord Chief
Justice Raymond, and the jury were evidently about
to convict him, when the judge said:
“ I think, gentlemen, you seem inclined to lay
more stress on the evidence of an apparition than it
will bear. I cannot say that I give much credit
to these kind of stories, but, be that as it will, we
have no right to follow our own private opinions
6
231


232 The White Ghost Book
here. We are now in a court of law, and must
determine according to it, and I do not know of
any law now in being which will admit of the testi-
mony of an apparition, nor yet, if it did, doth the
ghost appear to give evidence.
“ Crier,” he continued, “ call up the ghost.”
The crier did so, three times, with great solemnity,
but no ghost appeared.
The judge then pointed out that the prisoner at
the bar was a man of excellent character, and that
there was no evidence whatever to show that he
and the dead farmer had ever had any kind of
quarrel or grudge between them. In fact, there was
not a thread of tangible evidence against him at all,
and therefore he ought to be acquitted.
“ But from many circumstances which have
arisen during the tria,” added the judge, “ I do
strongly suspect that the gentleman who saw the
apparition was himself the murderer, in which case
he might easily ascertain the pit, the stabs, etc.,
without any supernatural assistance. And in such
suspicion I shall think myself justified in com-
mitting him to close custody till the matter can be
further inquired into.”
This was immediately done, and the search
warrant was granted. When the prisoner’s house
was searched such strong proofs of his guilt appeared
that he confessed the murder, and was executed at
the next assizes.


THE RED MARK
THE following strange experience happened to Cap-
tain G. Powell, of Bosham, Sussex, while on a voyage
from London to China and Japan. The name of
the ship is not given for obvious reasons, but other-
wise the story is told here exactly as Captain Powell
kindly gave it to me.
“ We pulled out on the morning tide from the
East India Dock bound to China and Japan, our
first port of call being Port Said for coaling bunkers.
We had the usual crew of English quartermasters,
two French Creoles, boatswain, carpenter, etc., and
a few A.B. and O.S., with Chinese firemen and
greasers. Our voyage down Channel was of the
usual kind in January—rotten; and as we sailed
on New Year’s Day, we were none of us in the best
of tempers, from our old man downwards. How-
ever, by the time we had cleared the Channel and
were in the Bay, things had cleared up generally,
both in temper and weather.
“ I was second officer on board, and as such had
the middle watch, which, I may say for the benefit
of the uninitiated, starts at twelve noon and goes
on till 4 P.M., and from 12 midnight till 4 A.M. I
had a watch of six A.B.s and two quartermasters,
all English save one French Creole. Things went
on in the usual way until we had run through the
Straits of Gibraltar, and were heading for Port
Said when the uncanny events happened that I
am going to recount.
133


234 The White Ghost Book
“ It began on a Tuesday morning (that is, sea
time, as we reckon our time from twelve noon to
twelve noon next day), about ten minutes past two
bells (which would be ten minutes past one), when
the look-out on the fo’castle head suddenly gave a
loud yell that even startled me on the navigation
bridge, and fell down in a dead faint.
“ I sent one of the quartermasters forward to
see what was the matter, and, if the man was ill,
to put another on the look-out at once, and then
come and report to me. After a quarter of an hour
or so he came on the bridge to make his report. It
seemed .that the man, whose name was La Croix,
was walking across the deck keeping his look-out,
when he thought he saw a black object just over
the port side under the rail, like a man’s head. He
walked over and looked, but could see nothing, so
thought his eye had caught the top of the towing
bollards. But soon again he caught sight of the
same thing. This happened three times, and he
was going to report it to me when, as he looked,
suddenly a human form rose up at the side and
simply melted through the rail and came towards
him. He said he had time to recognise the face
and to see that there was a huge gaping cut right
round the throat. Then he fainted.
“ After the doctor had seen La Croix and given
him a sleeping draught I finished the remainder of
my watch and turned in. The next day, after
breakfast, I went forward to the fo’castle to see him.
He was in his bunk, as the doctor had ordered him
to lay up for a day or so, for the man was thoroughly
unnerved. I went in and sat down by his bunk


- -—~
The Red Mark 235
on his donkey and had a yarn with him. He was
very reserved, and told me nothing more than I
knew already.
“ After two days he turned to again. Nothing
happened the first night he was on the look-out. But
the second night he was on the same thing occurred
again, only this time I, too, distinctly saw a second
figure on the fo’castle head. It was a fine, clear
night, not too moonlight, with a gentle head-wind
which carried every sound direct to me. What I
saw was this. As La Croix turned to walk from
port to starboard, a figure seemed to rise just behind
him, put an arm out with hand outstretched, then
draw it sharply round the other’s neck, at the same
time giving him a swing round so as to put them
face to face.
“ Needless to say, La Croix went off into fit after
fit and then collapsed, and we all thought he would
be dead before the doctor could get to him. How-
ever, he pulled him round and the next day I went
to see him. I should not have known the man—
from being a fine young fellow he had become an
old man with hair quite white, and a perfect red
mark extending from his right ear under his chin half
way to his left ear.
“ At first he would say nothing and wanted to
be left, so I left him. But in the first dog-watch
(four to six) one of the quartermasters came to say
that La Croix would like to see me. I went forward
and had a long yarn with him. He told me he knew
he was dying, but that, before he died, he would
like to confess one thing: he had committed a
murder.


236 The White Ghost Book
“ It appears that, some three years before, he
and another man had been ashore together at Mel-
bourne and had got very drunk, and had had a
row over a woman who had preferred his mate. He
went on board and brooded over it, and two days
after, which was a Sunday, he had taken his mate
out into the country for the day, and then brutally
cut his throat from ear to ear. But before he died
his mate managed to cry out: ‘ I’ll haunt you and
murder you.’
“ La Croix picked up a little and was given light
day jobs and turned in all night, another man taking
his place in the watch. The day before we reached
Port Said he seemed better, and was sent on the
fo’castle head before the look-out was set, when
suddenly there was an awful blood-curdling yell.
The men rushed out to the fo’castle. There lay
La Croix across the deck with his throat cut from
ear to ear.
“ This I saw myself as I had the body removed.”
LEGENDS OF BOSHAM HARBOUR
IN the Middle Ages, the legend says, a band of fierce
pirates, headed by Wulff, the son of Sweyn, swooped
down on Bosham, in Sussex, and finding no rich
booty among the fisherfolk, took away the fine old
bell that hung in the church tower, in spite of the
horrified resistance of the priests.
They carried the bell on board their ship and set
sail, but before they were out of the harbour it


Legends of Bosham Harbour 237
crashed through the deck and into the hold, finally
reaching the bottom of the sea but leaving no hole
in the vessel. The terrified pirates, realising that
a miracle had happened, sailed away as quickly as
they could, leaving the big bell of Bosham down
in the deep.
But though the bell no longer hung in the belfry,
it did not remain idle in its sea-grave, and nowadays,
whenever the rest of the bells ring out clear and
sweet to call the fisher-folk to church, the big bell
joins in, and its deep tone can be clearly heard by
those who have ears to hear. The spot where it
sank through the ship is called “ Bell Hole” to
this day.
1! * * ll‘ Ii
There is, however, another story attached to
Bosham Harbour, a far less agreeable one, for it
concerns a terrible tragedy and an avenging ghost,
and is, moreover, well founded. This is the story:
About 1835 a man called Caleb Dereham was
the owner of a ketch built at Portsmouth, called
the Flying Scud. He called himself a fisherman, but
was popularly credited with deriving most of his
income from smuggling brandy. He had a partner
called Joseph Makepeace. Both partners drank
heavily, and Makepeace was well-known along the
coast for the fact that when drunk he always sang
hymns, which fact earned him the nickname of “ The
Preacher.”
Dereham was a morose, silent man, difficult to
deal with at all times, and positively dangerous when
in his cups. The Flying Scud frequently put in to


238 The White Ghost Book
Bosham Harbour when the weather was bad, and
always anchored in the same place in the “ Deep.”
On one of these occasions it was noticed that Make-
peace was not on board, but Dereham, on being
questioned about it, flew into such a violent rage
that the subject was not pursued, and it was sup-
posed that they had quarrelled and parted, as he
was never seen again.
Some years afterwards, Dereham, who had been
drinking more heavily than usual, was stabbed
during a drunken brawl in a tavern at Portsmouth
by a Spanish sailor, and the Flying Scud passed into
the hands of a man called Mortimer, who used her
for fishing along the coast. On one occasion, about
a year after the change of ownership, he put into
Bosham Harbour owing to stress of weather, and
anchored in the old place down the Deep.
Later that night he turned up, white and shaking,
in Bosham village, saying that his boat was haunted
by a black devil with a red face and that he would
not return to her. He was laughed at and thought
to be in liquor, and three men persuaded him to
return with them to his boat, they promising to
stay on board with him till morning.
The three men slept on deck. About two in the
morning one woke up, with the impression that
someone had called him. He went over to where
his mates were and woke them. The first thing they
all noticed was a peculiar smell, as if the harbour
mud had been stirred up. As they were talking
together, a noise behind them made them look round,
and they saw Makepeace standing by the forecastle
hatch, deadly white, looking aft with an expression


Legends of Bosham Harbour 239

‘ of absolute horror on his face. They all three
followed his glance, and saw the figure of a man
apparently clambering over the stern.
He appeared covered with black mud up to the
neck, and the head was shockingly cut, the upper
part of the face being a mass of blood. In spite
of this all three recognised the figure, and with a
cry of “ My God, it’s the Preacher ! ” they ran to-
wards him. As they approached, the figure gave a
kind of choking scream, and disappeared over the
stern with a loud splash. They rushed to the stern
to render help, but nothing was to be seen, the
water appeared untroubled, and on examination
there was no sign of mud or even water on the rail
at the stern.
Mortimer, who had come up with them, told
them he had seen the figure only once before, namely,
early that same night before he came up to Bosham,
and that the figure was evidently trying to tell him
something, but that no sound came, as the mouth
was full of mud, and that the expression of the face
was so dreadful that he lost his head, jumped into
the dinghy, and left the boat with the terrible
visitor still struggling at the stern.
A few days afterwards the Flying Scud changed
hands again, and during the next few years passed
through several people’s hands, till at last it was
bought by a ship-breaker and broken up.





DREAMS, PORTENTS, AND WARNINGS





DREAMS—STRANGE, PROPHETIC, AND
RECURRENT
DR. HASWELUB EXPERIENCE—REOUR-RENT DREAMS-MRS.
Frounxns AND Pnruonrc Danams-Dmmms on ILL-
OMEN-THE Ossns or MARIA MARTEN AND Srnncna
PERCEVAL—MRS. DRAYSON'B Exranmnons.
IF there be any truth in the signs of the times,”
says Mr. Reginald L. Hind, in his fascinating
book, “ Dreams and the Way of Dreams,” “
to stand at this present day on the threshold of a
new age of Vision, when men will be led once again
to see the true inwardness and involution of things.
And we may fairly believe that when such an age
is fully come the minds of men will be wandering
constantly down the way of dreams. The old saying
of Zeno will be remembered and laid to heart, that
the study of our dreams is essential to self-know-
ledge.”
These words were written in 1913, before the
war had brokenout and our deepest emotions had
been ploughed up by the great unrest. With the
war the “ new age of Vision ” began indeed to dawn,
and we all—civilians at home, sailors at sea, soldiers
in the trenches—are now coming to regard dreams,
visions, and other revelations with an altogether new
and more intelligent interest.
I have collected the following instances of strange,
WC S€61Tl.
243


244 The White Ghost Book .
prophetic and recurrent dreams, all absolutely
authentic, and most of them given to me by the
dreamers themselves. At this present time they
should prove of peculiar interest.
IF * * * *
Dr. Haswell, of Leamington, had the following
interesting dream, for an account of which I am
indebted to him :——
“ In 1887, on the Friday before Whitsunday, I
travelled from Sunderland to Keswick and drove
thence over the Whinlatter Pass to Scale Hill, near
Crummock Water. My friend B went with me
on this expedition, our main object being to take
photographs of the Crummock and Buttermere
district.
“ My boy, then between three and four years
old, with his nurse, was at the Sunderland station
to see me off. He was apparently in perfect health
—a fact which ought to be mentioned, as the dream
which I had in the night between the Saturday
and Sunday following could not have been ‘ induced
by anticipation.’
“ The dream was as follows: I seemed to be at
home in my own bedroom and saw my wife bending
over the crib where my boy lay. His face looked
red, and he was evidently in a state of fever. I
anxiously asked my wife, ‘ VVhat is the matter with
him ? ’ She replied, ‘I don’t know, but whatever
it is, don’t worry. I’ll do my best for him.’
“ Such was my dream. It was most vivid and
realistic in every detail. Every familiar object in my


Dr. Haswe1l’s Experience 245
bedroom at home appeared just as I knew it--bed,
crib, ornaments on the mantel and dressing-table,
even the gas bracket from which the light was
burning.
“ I awoke in a state of considerable excitement,
and after a while went to sleep again, but only to
dream the same dream again. At breakfast in the
morning I told B my dream, saying, ‘ I feel
very anxious; something must be wrong. I never
had such a dream. I wish I could go home and
see what is the matter.’
“ B—- replied, ‘ Surely you will never go now
—why, we’ve only just come!’
“ I considered, and wrote my wife a letter, briefly
describing my dream, omitting the empression used
by my wife in the dream, and giving her an address
in Keswick which would be most likely to find me
after two or three days. It was then Sunday, and
there was no postal dispatch from Scale Hill, but I
found a countryman going into Cockermouth (ten
miles distant) who offered to post my letter.
“ My wife’s reply reached me at Keswick about
the middle of the week. She said, ‘ It is very strange,
but what you were dreaming was actually taking place
at the time.’ She added words, not precisely the
same as I had heard her say in my dream, but
remarkably alike, and in effect the same: ‘ I don’t
know what has been the matter with Jack, but don’t
worry, I’ll do my best for him.’
“ In the light of subsequent events it seemed
that a mild attack of brain fever had been the com-
plaint from which my son had been suffering.
“ I was discussing this case with B—~— not long

“Q


246
The White Ghost Book
ago. He distinctly remembers my anxiety at break-
fast and my evident desire to go home to see if my
dream had any foundation in fact.”
* Ill 8 * 1'
Mr. J . C. Stenning, of Saffrons Road, Eastbourne,
has kindly sent me the following story of a recurrent
dream:
“ For about fifteen years I constantly dreamed,
sometimes twice in a night, the same dream; it
was always very vivid and distinct. It was as
follows: (I should say that my business in London
often led me to go from St. Mary Axe to Bishopsgate
Street through a passage leading past Great St.
Helen’s Church.)
“ I dreamed that there was a wall by the east
end of the church in which there was a door. This
door was often open, and I used to look into an open
space, beyond which were ruins of some ecclesiastical
building, arches, columns, walls, and remains of
towers. The dream was so clear that when passing
I often felt surprised that there was no wall or
door. In fact, buildings were so close to the church
that there was no space left for such a wall. One
evening my eldest son asked me to look at a print,
the name of which he carefully covered over. I at
once exclaimed that it was the view of the ruins I
was so constantly dreaming about; he then drew
away the paper that covered the name: ‘ Ruins of
the Priory of Great St. Helen’s in A.D. ——- (I do
not recollect the date).
“ Since he showed me this print, now many


Recurrent Dreams 247
years ago, I have never once had the dream. I was
introduced to Professor Barrett in May, 1910, and
told him this dream. He thought it should be
investigated, and asked me to get my son to write
to him about it. \I have heard nothing since. Pro-
fessor Barrett asked if I had had any ancestors con-
nected with Great St. Helen’s, but I do not know
of any, and do not think there is any ground for any
idea of a pre-natal influence. I had never seen an
illustration of the Priory ruins previously. I be-
lieve St. Helen’s Place now occupies partially or
wholly the site of the Priory.”
* * * 1! Ik
The following dream-vision was related to me
by Miss Winifred Hall, to whom also I owe the curious
story of “ The Old Lady in Black ” (see p. 152) :
“ I had an aunt who was able to foretell death
with the utmost certainty. She used to hear a
sound which she described as being exactly like the
swishing of a scythe in her room at night. She
would wake suddenly and hear this swish, and always
knew if it was a young death, since the scythe would
then be close to the ground, as if cutting young grass.
And in each case the ill-omen was justified. We had
the most complete evidence of her eerie gift, for
she would often tell us when she had heard the
scythe and whom it indicated.
“ One day she heard the sound of the regular
swish-swish of the scythe, and came and told my
mother there would be a death in the family—though
that of a child, meaning she need not fear regarding


2i1,8 The White Ghost ‘Book
my father. This was on a Sunday, and at the time
we were all well; but on the Tuesday one of my
sisters was taken ill. She died on the Thursday.
“ That night I had an extraordinary dream. I
dreamt I had washed my hair and was drying it at
the glass in my bedroom, when I turned round and
saw my little sister in her nightdress looking at me,
I noticed that all her beautiful golden curls were
cut off, and that she was wearing a little lace Dutch
bonnet. I said to her, ‘ You funny girl—fancy having
your bonnet on! And where are your curls ? ’
She just smiled at me, and with a start I woke up.
“ The dream made a great impression on me.
Next morning I began to tell the sister with whom
I was sleeping all about it, when suddenly our nurse
came in and broke the sad news to us that our little
sister had died during the night. Later on, the
trained nurse came and said, ‘ Come with me and
see your sister.’ We went with her, and there lay
my sister exactly as I had seen her in my dream.
They had cut off all her hair and had put a little
lace Dutch cap on her head.
“ I need hardly tell you that, although it all
happened when I was a child, I have never forgotten
a single detail of the dream—or rather vision, for
that is what it was.”
* * * * ‘ *
Mrs. M. Chester Ffoulkes mentioned a most
curious dream on page 87 of “ My Own Past.” She
writes:
fi
“ Richard Le Gallienne introduced me to ‘ Jimmy ’
Welch, who. although not then the successful ‘ Sir


Periodic Dreams 249
Guy dc Vere,’ was just the same charming, unaffected
person that he is to-day; I remember we discussed
the supernatural, which has always interested me,
and I told Le Gallienne and his friend about a strange
dream which had come to me on the 31st of October
for many years.
“ In this recurrent dream, having been tried for
a crime and condemned to death, I experienced,
with the utmost vividness, all the horrors of the
scaffold. I saw the waiting headsman, the grooved
block, and the ghastly basket of sawdust. I felt
my eyes bandaged, light became' darkness—I waited
—and the scroll of my life unrolled before me. Then
came the dull, agonising blow, and I awoke.
“ Richard le Gallienne was of opinion that this
scene of the past was enacted either to stimulate my
memory, or else to serve as a warning. ‘ Jimmy ’
Welch said briefly the one word ‘ Indigestion.’ ”
Mrs. Ffoulkes’.account of her dream, when pub-
lished, led to a highly interesting correspondence on
“ Periodic Dreams,” which ran for several weeks in
the columns of the Observer. One correspondent
wrote: '
“ The subject of periodic dreams is one of extra-
ordinary interest. A friend of mine used to have
a periodic vision. Every Good Friday night she _
dreamed she was in an oak-panelled room of an old
country house, looking at the portrait of a cavalier
over the mantelpiece. It was a peculiar face in every
respect—the features so bold and strongly marked;
and there was a long scar on the forehead. , Whilst
.,__,.. _ ._ _‘i._i_i~


250 The White Ghost Book
she was looking the door behind her opened, and a
young woman with bright yellow hair entered.
Coming up to my friend, she said, ‘ I am K. E. I
killed him. I had to do it; but no one knows.’
Then my friend awoke. She had this dream for
many years in succession.”
I refer my readers to the files of the Observer
for November and December, 1915, for some curious
and interesting instances of the periodic dreams.
Finally, Mrs. Ffoulkes wrote the following letter:
“. . . Perhaps I may be permitted to relate a
very vivid prophetic (Y) dream which came to me
in February, 1904.
“ I dreamt that I formed one of a party who
were going to spend Christmas in the country. The
first dream-picture was a drive across a snow-wrapped
countryside to a wonderful old house. The carriage
drove through a paved courtyard and stopped at
the great open door of the mansion. We alighted,
and inside, I remember, all was life and activity.
People were hurrying hither and thither, and a
servant told me that a great fancy dress ball was to
be given that night, and would I come upstairs and
dress as soon as possible T
“ I went down long passages, and at last found
myself in a small bedroom with leaded windows which
looked down on the courtyard through which we
had just driven. There was a chintz-hung four-
poster, everything was very old-fashioned, and I
especially remember the looking-glass, cracked and
blurred, which stood on the dressing-table. There


The Case of Maria Marten 251
were, apparently, clothes laid out on the bed, and
the servant turned to me, saying, ‘ Here is your
costume for the ball.’
“ ‘ Whom do I represent?’ I asked. Without a
word she handed me a small engraving of a woman
which was lying on the bed.
“ ‘ You will represent Maude Ffoulkes,’ she
answered; ‘ she lived and died most unhappily.’ I
recognised the woman in the picture as myself, and
the clothes on the bed were my own; but when,
terrified, I looked in the mirror I could plainly see,
cracks and blurs notwithstanding, that I was quite
different in appearance from the Maude Ffoulkes of
the picture.
“ Then I awoke. In 1909, when I paid my first
visit to Deene Park, I recognised the house and
courtyard of my dream. But no room corresponded
to that where I had seen the picture and clothes
of Maude Ffoulkes.
“ This dream was exceptionally vivid, and I
have often wondered whether it was sent as a warn-
ing. Certainly events have sin.ce partly justified
the servant’s remark, but in those days I had no
actual ‘ sensing ’ of coming trouble.”
l * * Ill =lI
The famous true story of Maria Marten and the
Red Barn, in which a dream led a murderer to justice,
is worth re-telling here, as many people have for-
gotten the actual circumstances.
Maria Marten, a girl of twenty-two, was the
daughter of a mole-catcher at Polstead, in Suffolk.
She lived with her parentsE.in‘ the village a happy


252 The White Ghost Book
and uneventful life, until William Corder, the son
of a neighbouring farmer, who had often visited
her at her father’s house, persuaded her to run away
with him to go to Ipswich to be married. This was
in May, 1827. It was about midday when they
left her father’s house, Maria going out of one door
and Corder out of another, to avoid suspicion. Maria
had also put on boy’s clothes as a disguise, intending
to resume her own clothes at a place called the Red
Barn, which was on some land belonging to the
Corders.
Noticing that her sweetheart carried a gun,
Maria asked him if it was loaded, to which he replied,
“ Yes.”
A few days later Corder returned to the village
alone, and on being asked by Maria’s parents where
she was, he said the wedding had not taken place,
as he was afraid to take her to his father’s house,
but that he had left her in a place of safety. She
had not written, he added, because she was unused
to the pen. .
Time passed by, and September came. Corder,
who was looking ill and haggard, said his doctor had
ordered him to go abroad, but before starting he saw
to it that the Red Barn was well filled with grain,
he himself helping to take in the corn.
After he had gone he wrote to his family and to
Maria’s parents, saying in one of his letters that
Maria was now his wife. The letters, however, came
from London and not from abroad.
Soon village gossip was busy with his name, and
Maria’s brother, Thomas Marten, remembered that
he had seen him walk across the fields in the direction


The Case of Maria Marten 253
of the Red Barn on the day of his sister’s elopement.
In spite of this, however, no proof of any kind could
be actually brought against him.
But Mrs. Marten, who, we may be sure, was
grieving sorely for her daughter, dreamt on three
successive nights that Maria had been done to
death and buried in the Red Barn, and insisted that
the floor should be taken up at once.
This was done on April 19th, 1828, and a sack
was found containing the remains of the murdered
girl. Corder was traced to Ealing, where he was
found to be married and living in prosperity. He
was tried and found guilty, and executed in August,
1828. While lying under sentence of death he made
a full confession of the crime.
' * * * * *
One of the most wonderful historic dreams on
record is that of Mr. John Williams, of Scorrier
House, Redruth, Cornwall, in 1812.
On May 11th Mr. Williams dreamt that he was
in the Lobby of the House of Commons, when he
saw a man dressed in a brown coat enter. Soon
afterwards another man, whom he understood in
his dream to be Mr. Perceval, who was then Prime
Minister, came in, and immediately the man in
brown took out a pistol and shot him. Several
people standing near took hold of the murderer,
and then Mr. Williams in great agitation awoke.
He told his wife that he had had a strange dream
in which he saw the Prime Minister assassinated,
but she made light of the matter, and he went to
sleep again.


254 The White Ghost Book
Again he had the same dream, the same in every
detail, and again he awoke his wife and told her;
but she, being convinced that the former dream
still haunted him, advised him to compose himself
and not think of it.
A third time he saw the same grim scene enacted
in the House of Commons, and on waking was so
impressed that he got up and dressed, being unable
to rest any more.
When morning came he was still under the spell
of his three dreams, and discussed the possibility of
going to London and telling Mr. Perceval by way of
warning. He went over to Falmouth on business
and told some friends there at the Godolphin Mine
about his dreams and his intention of making the
long journey to London. Naturally they dissuaded
him, saying he would only be ridiculed and taken
for a madman, and so he said nothing more, but
watched eagerly for the arrival of the newspapers.
Next day nothing happened, but on May 13th
a son of Mr. Williams, who lived at Truro, arrived
at Scorrier House and announced that Mr. Perceval
had been assassinated in the House of Commons
on the evening of the 11th, and that the news had
just come through to Truro,, but was not yet in the
papers.
A few weeks after, Mr. Williams went to London
on business, and in one of the print-shops saw a
coloured drawing representing the tragedy in the
House of Commons. He bought it, and in studying
it found that every detail represented coincided with
his dreams, even down to the blue coat and white
Waistcoat Mr. Percival had worn, and the brown


Assassination of Spencer Perceval 255
coat of Bellingham, the murderer. He went to the
House of Commons and in the presence of several
friends pointed out the exact spot where the murder
was committed, and, in fact, reconstructed the crime
most minutely.
The story of the dream aroused the greatest
interest. The Times published it some years after-
wards, while Mr. Williams was still alive and also
many of the people to whom he had told the dream
before the fact of the murder of Mr. Perceval was
known. The version given by the Times, however,
differed in certain details from the most authentic
account, which was given by Mr. Williams himself
to the Society for Psychical Research and published
in the Society’s “ Proceedings.”
* It * # #
Mrs. Drayson—some of whose experiences I have
quoted elsewhere—has had wonderful dreams. When
a little girl of twelve or thirteen, living at Hendon,
she woke up one Sunday after a queer dream about
an old man wholived in a house near, who was
never visited, and, in fact, whose house nobody had
been in.
She dreamt she went into the house and up-
stairs to what was obviously his bedroom, but it
was a most extraordinary room, with trees in it
and grassy banks. In the middle of the room was
a bed, on which he lay dead. Then she woke, and
at breakfast she told her brother and sisters about
her dream.
Going to church with her mother an hour later,
they met their doctor, who pulled up his horse and


256 The White Ghost Book
said, “ Well, poor old So-and-So has gone,” men-
tioning this man. The mother, very startled, told
him the child’s dream, and he exclaimed with aston-
ishment, for the old man, it seems, had been an
actor, and all round his bedroom were bits of scenery,
backcloths, and borders, with grass and trees and
flowers on them, making the room look exactly as
the child had seen it.
* * , * * *
A girl who was very fond of botany one day dis-
covered, a plant the name of which she could not re-
collect. She racked her brains at intervals that day,
but could not remember it. In the night she dreamt
she was at a party, and was introduced to a lady
whose name was Mrs. Hypnum. The plant whose
name she had forgotten was a Hypnum! This dream
was related in a lecture by Dr. W. Sykes at Doncaster.
* Ik Ill Ill *
A correspondent writes me as follows: “ I see
you are interested in dreams. There is a certain
countess I know very little of indeed; she is very
old. I don’t even like her, and have not the slightest
personal interest in her. I dreamt most vividly
that -she was in great trouble in a room thronged
with people who pressed on her, and would not let
her pass out of the room. She appealed to me for
help. I put my arms round her, and fought my way
to the door, saying, ‘ You must let her pass.’
‘“ I was wakened by a maid coming in and laying
a newspaper on my bed. I opened it, and there, in
large letters, was an account of the tragic death of
her younger son in an accident.



The Assassination of Spencer Perceval
As seen ‘by Mr, Williams in a dream, and as he subsequently saw
it depicted in an engraving—here reproduced (see page 253)





Death Warnings 257
“ Some time after that I again dreamt of the
countess. Next day I heard of her eldest son’s
death. A third time I dreamt of her, and imme-
diately I heard her daughter had caught fire and
was dangerously ill, but eventually recovered. It
strikes me as so specially curious, because the
countess has no personal interest for me. How
different had she been one I loved! The scene of
the last two dreams was not of the crowded room,
but I saw her distinctly.”
THE HORSE OF DEATH
THIS story concerns a very old house in Wales. The
interior contains some magnificent old oak, and over
one of the mantelpieces is carved the date A.D. 1535,
and the motto “ I serve,” in Welsh.
At the time of which I write, it was lived in by
some friends of mine, and the lady of the house had
a most curious experience, which she has given me
leave to include in this book. I am sorry I cannot
give her name, but she has kindly allowed me to
relate the story as I had it from her own lips:
“ My husband was at Liverpool at the time,”
she said, “ expecting to undergo an operation, and
I had a ’phone message to say: ‘ Have to wait—~
operation postponed.’ So, naturally, I was very
worried and anxious.
“ That night I was lying wide awake in bed with
my daughter Evadne asleep beside me, when I
R


258 The White Ghost Book
heard a horse tearing full pelt down the hill and along
the drive up to the house. The sound of the gallop-
ing hoofs rang out distinctly. It was about one
o’clock and a bright moonlight night, calm and still,
with no wind. I jumped out of bed, opened the
‘window, and looked out. My window overlooked
every inch of the drive, and, to my amazement, there
was no horse to be seen.
“ Full of wonder, I waited for some time and
then went back to bed, but not to sleep, for I lay
and wondered at the strangeness of the thing, for
the horse had made a noise like a whirlwind.
“ About half an hour later I distinctly heard the
horse turn round again and go down the drive, this
time at walking pace. There was no sound of wheels,
only the heavy thud, thud, thud of hoofs.
“ Next day I asked my daughter if she had heard
a horse come up to the house during the night, and
she said ‘ No.’
“ I could not get the sound of the horse’s hoofs
out of my mind—they simply haunted me. I knew
they portended disaster of some kind, because had
it been an ordinary horse I must have seen it. The
drive was a peculiar one, ending in a cul-de-sac, and
there was no way in which it could have been hidden
from view.
“ Later on in the day my husband was brought
home dying, and I prayed I might never hear the
terrible hoofs of the horse of 'ill-omen again.
II‘ II! * Ill *
“A year later I was lying on the sofa, in the
same house in Wales, when to my horror I heard


The Horse of Death 259

the horse again. Once more it galloped furiously
up the drive, this time in broad daylight, and
stopped at the door. I got up and rushed to the
door, but could see nothing, though I heard hoofs
thudding away down the drive. A little later, my
daughter came in from a walk with the maid, and
turning to them I said: ‘ Did you see or hear a
horse ? ’
“ ‘No,’ they said; they had seen no horse, but
there had just been a dreadful accident in the village.
A lady was riding along the village street when her
horse slipped and threw her on the pavement, killing
her instantly.”
SEEN IN THE CRYSTAL
THE following is not, strictly speaking, a ghost
story, but, being of an occult nature and well
founded, I include it here. It was told me by
Mrs. Salis, Kensington Palace Terrace, London, who
had it first-hand from a Welsh Member of Parlia-
ment, who was concerned in the strange events
related.
Some years ago a well-known village character,
named Harper, lived in a village in Glamorgan-
shire. He was a weird old man, reputed to be a
magician well versed in the black arts, and none
of his neighbours cared to cross him in any way,
for they all stood greatly in awe of him.
When he died, his collection of occult books and


26o The White Ghost Book
other ancient magic went to his niece who had lived
with him in his cottage.
Mr. Wallace,* the M.P. in question, who lives in
the neighbourhood, had a friend named Martin
Lloyd, who lived next door to his town house at
Chelsea. Mr. Lloyd was somewhat of an antiquarian,
greatly interested in folk-lore and in old books and
antiques of all kinds.
When travelling in Wales it occurred to him to
inquire about the old man Harper, of whom he had
heard from Mr. Wallace, so he went to the cottage,
where Harper’s niece was still in possession, and
knocked at the door.
When the niece opened it Mr. Lloyd said:
“ Have you got any of the old books that be-
longed to your uncle ? If so I should like to look
at them, and might possibly like to buy some of
them from you.”
The niece replied that she had a number of her
uncle’s books which were in an old carved oak chest.
Mr. Lloyd might look at them if he liked, “ but,”
she added, “ I won’t have any taken out.”
She took Mr. Lloyd to the oak chest, which was
black with age, and on raising the lid, he saw several
large books inside, most of them bound in leather
with metal clasps. He saw also a large crystal ball,
such as is used for crystal-gazing.
“ Would you be disposed to part with the books ? ”
he said to Miss Harper.
“Yes,” she replied; “I am quite willing to
sell them, but on the understanding that you take
the chest and the whole of its contents as well.”
* This and the other names are fictitious.


Seen in the Crystal 261
Mr. Lloyd saw that the chest itself was worth
buying, apart from the books, so he said he would
give her ten pounds for the chest and contents.
“ Very well,” she said; “ you can have them for
that price, but I will go out of the cottage while you
make arrangements for taking them away.”
She went out after receiving the money, and Mr.
Lloyd went through the village to find someone to
help him to get the chest to the station. None of
the villagers seemed at all inclined to have any-
thing whatever to do with the old wizard’s belong-
ings. Finally, he managed to get a man with a
cart to take the chest to the station, and so removed
it to London. . .
When the books were examined they were found
to be very curious volumes, full of old incantations,
astrological signs and quaint recipes, and Mr. Lloyd
put them back in the chest and kept them among
his treasures in Chelsea.
Years after, Mr. Wallace and Mr. Lloyd thought
they would go and see a football match at Chelsea.
After leaving the match they found themselves in a
great press of people, for there had been a huge
crowd present. They were elbowing their way along
when they heard a-child crying in the crowd, evidently
in great distress.
Mr. Lloyd turned round, and being a big, athletic
man, he plunged into the crowd and rescued a small
boy who was in danger of being trampled under foot,
carrying him out of the throng on his shoulder.
When clear of the crowd he put the boy down, and
then found, to his dismay, that his gold watch and
chain had vanished. This was not surprising,


262 The White Ghost Book
considering that his arms had been raised while
carrying the child, but he was extremely perturbed
at the loss, because the watch had belonged to his
grandfather (who was known as “ Old Peter ”),
and was an heirloom in the family.
He went back to look for it and inquired of the '
police, but could hear nothing of the watch, and was
obliged to take his way home without it. Presently
he and Mr. Wallace saw Mr. Lloyd’s brother, Dr.
Lloyd, who, when he caught sight of them, came up in
an excited way and said: “ I’ve just lost my watch
at the match,” adding, with a laugh, “it doesn’t
much matter; it was only an old Waterbury.”
“ Oh ! ” said Mr. Lloyd; “ that’s nothing com-
pared with my loss. I’ve just had my gold watch
and chain stolen.”
“ You don’t mean to say you’ve lost Old Peter’s
watch ! ” said the doctor. “ Mother will never for-
give you. I don’t know what you’ll have to tell her.”
“ That’s the worst of it,” said Mr. Lloyd. “ I’m
afraid she will fret about it. But I have an idea.
This is a chance to consult the magical books I got
from old Harper years ago.”
Of course Dr. Lloyd thought this was an absurd
r suggestion, but said he would go back with them
to his brother’s flat and see what could be done. So
they all three went to the flat, where they were
shortly afterwards joined by Mrs. Lloyd and Mrs.
Wallace.
On consulting the books it appeared that the best
procedure was that one of the party, not the loser,
should look into the crystal ball, while one of the
others should recite a certain magical formula.


Seen in the Crystal 263
The doctor was selected to be the scryer (crystal
gazer), while his brother recited the incantation.
The doctor, with many protestations, looked into the
crystal, in which he said he could see nothing at all.
But after a few minutes he said, in a tone of the
greatest excitement:
“ I can see a man’s head—and what is more, it is
that of a patient of mine! He is a man lying at
present in Chelsea Infirmary with a broken leg.”
“Well,” said Mr. Wallace, “ if he is in Chelsea
Infirmary with a broken leg he can’t have had any-
thing to do with the theft of the watch which took
place to-day.”
This certainly seemed conclusive, but it was
agreed on by all present that the doctor should
make inquiries when next he saw his patient.
Nothing else was seen in the crystal.
* * Ii III *
The following day Dr. Lloyd went to the infirmary
and at once told the sick man that his brother had
been robbed of his gold watch at the football match
the previous day and was anxious to recover it,
because it was a valued heirloom.
“ That was one of Burgin’s gang!” at once
exclaimed his patient. “ Now, sir, you’ve been
very good to me, and I’d like to do something for
you. When do you think I can get out of this
place ? ”
“ Well,” said the doctor, “ to-day’s Saturday. I
think you can go out on Monday. If you get the
watch and chain for me there’ll be ten pounds and
no questions asked.”


264 The White Ghost Book
And so the doctor left, after giving directions
that the man might leave the infirmary on Monday.
Before the week was out the watch was returned
to its owner, and the £10 paid to the patient, and,
we will conclude, no questions were asked.
THE THREE ENVELOPES
THE following is another story told me by Mrs.
Salis, who derived it from the same source as “ Seen
in the Crystal.”
In Mr. Wallace’s native village in Wales there was
an old man named Tommy Royce, who kept a small
public-house.
He had the strange and uncomfortable gift-——not
quite so rare as it is thought to be—of seeing deaths
beforehand, and had quite the reputation of second
sight in the village.
A new curate happened to be appointed to the
village, and, being told of old Tommy’s gift, was ex-
tremely horrified that such superstition should be
rife in the place. ‘
He went to see the old man and told him that
such things were untrue and the work of the devil,
and said that if he heard any more gossip about
Tommy’s powers he would make a formal complaint
to the rector of the parish.
“ Well,” said Tommy, “ it’s quite true I have the
gift, but that’s not my fault. I’ve often wished I’d
iever had it. You can’t think it’s a pleasure for


The Three Envelopes 265
me to have a man come iii for a glass of beer and to
know he’ll be dead in a fortnight. For many years
I’ve never predicted anything of the kind, or spoken
of my power, but it is quite true that when I was
a young man I occasionally used to do so.”
“ Oh, nonsense! ” said the curate. “Such a
thing is absolutely an imposture. The whole thing
is a tissue of lies.”
At this old Tommy Royce became very annoyed
and excited, and said:
“ If you doubt my word we can very easily put
it to the test. I will undertake to write down the
names of the next two people in the parish who
will die.”
The curate would not be convinced, and said he
would have the names of three, in case two might
be a coincidence.
Tommy Royce did not wish to agree to this, but
at last, after some discussion, he gave way on the
point, and it was agreed that Williams the school-
master should be a witness.
They proceeded to the schoolhouse, where Tommy
Royce wrote down the three names on three separate
slips of paper, enclosed in three separate envelopes.
The envelopes were then marked 1, 2, and 3, and
given into the safe keeping of the schoolmaster.
About a fortnight after this had taken place, a
girl in the village, named Rose Flemming, died some-
what suddenly. As she had been suffering from
consumption for some time there was not, perhaps,
anything out of the ordinary way in her death.
Still, when the curate, at Tommy Royce’s request,
went to the schoolmaster’s house and opened the


266 The White Ghost Book
envelope marked 1, it was found, sure enough, that
her name was there.
Now, at this time there was living in the village
an elderly man named William Hewitt, a well-to-do
farmer, very strong and active. His business trans-
actions necessitated his going up the Rhondda Valley
from time to time to collect rents and moneys due
to him.
About ten days after the death of Rose Flemming
he left the village as usual for the railway station.
As he approached the station he saw the train
just coming into it, and started to run, fearing he
might miss it. After running a few yards he had
an apoplectic seizure, fell down on the ground, and
expired.
As soon as the news of his death reached the
village, the curate, thinking to prove Tommy Royce
in the wrong, insisted on his going with him to the
schoolmaster’s house, when, on opening the second
envelope, it was found that the name of William
Hewitt was contained in it.
Tommy Royce then said:
“ Now, surely, you are convinced that I have
this power. I don’t want the thing carried too far.
I don’t wish the third envelope to be opened, and
should like it to be at once destroyed.”
As he said these words, he attempted to snatch
the envelope from the schoolmaster, but as the
interest of the curate had now reached its highest
point he succeeded, after a tussle, in getting posses-
sion of the envelope, which he tore open, and found
on the third slip of paper—h'£s own name.
He turned pale, and without a word left the


The Three Envelopes 267
cottage and went home. Within a week he took to
his bed, and before the month was out he died.
Williams the schoolmaster, who told the story
to Mr. Wallace, used to turn white whenever the
incident was mentioned, and it is never likely to
be forgotten in the village.
THE SUICIDE GHOST
I HAVE, in other of my books, touched on the power
of suggestion by Elementals who, when being the
spirits of those who have committed suicide or have
been murderers or particularly evil-livers, seek to
lure to destruction anyone who comes under their
malign influence.
A curious instance of this occurred in connection
with a case mentioned in “ Another Grey Ghost
Book,” under the title of “ The Ghost with Half a
Face.” It deals with a house haunted by a pecu-
liarly horrible apparition of a tall man, in evening
dress, half of whose face was gone. I interviewed a
person who had seen it and obtained irrefutable
proof of its appearance. The lady of the house, as
I related, called in a clairvoyant, who investigated
the matter and found that it was a spirit earth-
bound after suicide. Inquiries were made, and
it was found that a former tenant had killed
himself in the house by shooting himself with a
gun, and that when he was found dead, half his
face had been blown away, the effect being most
ghastly.


268 The White Ghost Book
“ Another Grey Ghost Book ” appeared in Decem-
ber, 1914. During the following spring an inmate
of the house in question committed suicide by shoot-
ing himself, and I have pasted a cutting relating to
the inquest in the book as a grim commentary on
the story.
I have lately been told of a most extraordinary
instance of suggestion, but in this case the Elemental
did not make use of mere suggestion, but of violent
means entailing great force, as did the supernatural
agents in the case of the Barbados coffin story,
related in the same book under the title of “ The
Haunted Vault.”
At a certain house in the country a child of two
was sitting in a high chair, playing with its toys.
The toys were on a table attached to the chair in
front, which fitted to the chair in so complete a
manner that, unless it was removed, it was impossible
for the child to leave the chair.
The child, being securely fixed, was left for a
few minutes by its mother, who, when she came
back, found, to her astonishment, that the little
one had disappeared. The window was wide open,
and the chair was standing as when she had left it,
but the table in front had been removed.
Concluding that someone had taken the child
downstairs, the mother went in search of it, but it
was not in the house, and no one had taken it out
of the room.
Eventually it was found in a flower-bed, below
the window of the room in which it had been
left, perfectly unhurt, although the window from
which it had been thrown was on the first storey.


The Suicide Ghost ‘ 269
Not long after, the occupants of the house removed,
and new tenants took possession. The room which
had formerly been the nursery, was now the bedroom
of an invalid, the uncle of the lady of the house.
He was suffering from paralysis, and quite unable
to move, having entirely lost the use of his lower
limbs.
One day the nurse, entering his room, was sur-
prised to find the bed empty. She went to the
window, which was wide open, and there, far below,
on the same flower-bed, her patient was lying. She
ran down expecting to find him dead, but, except
for the shock, he was none the worse for his fall.
He was carried upstairs again, and was able to con-
vey to her that, in some way for which he could
not account, he had been forced to the window and
pushed through, alighting on the flower-bed beneath.
He said no one had come into the room, nor had
he in any way recovered the use of his limbs. The
power that took him to the window and impelled
him through it was some tremendous Force against
which he had been quite powerless.
Inquiries set on foot elicited the fact that a man
had once committed suicide by jumping from the
window of the room in question. Every subsequent
occupant of the room was impelled to follow his
example, the suggestion being accompanied by active
force.
After the last incident related above, the room
was closed up for good.


A270 The White Ghost Book
AT A SEANCE
A FRIEND of mine, living at Cricklewood, whom I
will call Mrs. Wood, is extremely psychic and greatly
interested in all kinds of ghostly phenomena. At
one time, not long ago, she used to attend séances
and had some very extraordinary experiences. Then
she found that as her powers developed there was
a strong element of danger in her psychic studies,
so she gave them up, though not without regret.
She gave me one of her strange experiences, which
I think may be of interest and which certainly proves
her gift to have been a very remarkable one.
“ I used often,” she said, “ to attend a small circle
which met once a week at the house of a medium.
“ One night, when we were all sitting down round
the table, I suddenly felt a most weird sensation, as
if I had been dipped into water and was soaking wet
from my head to my heels. I also felt a curious
oppression, as if I was drowning, and had taken on
the personality of a man who was in the throes of
a death struggle. It was a most eerie and peculiar
feeling—simply horrible.
“ I turned to the husband of the medium and
asked him the time. He replied, ‘ It is a few minutes
past nine.’
“ I then described the sensation I was under-
going, adding: ‘I am walking along by a river; it
is dusk. I see a man and a woman. I see the woman
push the man into the water. The man has bleeding
hands. The woman disappears. There is a bridge
near, and a large factory. The river banks are high.


At a Séance 271
There are some pollard willows along the river, and
I see several church spires. The river is just outside
a country town.’ ”
“The medium said: ‘ The place you describe
sounds like a place inizhe north close to my home
in Lancashire. I feel you know all about it. Have
you ever been in ——— ‘.7 ’ (mentioning a town in the
north country). I replied that I had never been
there in my life.
“ The next time I went to the circle, on the
following Wednesday, I was greeted by the husband
of the medium, who said to me: ‘ There won’t be a
circle to-night. Madame is called away to the
funeral of the man you saw. He was drowned at
the time you mentioned, for his watch had stopped
at nine o’clock. He was walking with a girl by the
side of the river, and they had a quarrel and she
pushed him in. When the body was found the hands
had several long scratches on them, as you saw
him in your trance.”
IN THE NIGHT
THE incident I am now going to relate happened
some years ago in a wild and rugged part of the
Highlands of Scotland, near Rannoch Moor. I am
not allowed to give the actual address of the farm
nor the real names of the people concerned, so I
have substituted fictitious ones; but I can assure
my readers that it not only happened, but had a
lasting effect on all concerned.


272 The White Ghost Book
A well-to-do young Scottish farmer, whom I will
call Andrew Maclean, owned a farm in a very lonely
part of the Highlands, not far from Rannoch Moor.
His sister Jean kept house for him, and busied her-
self besides with superintending the dairy and poultry
yard, quite content with the quiet, uneventful life
at the farm, which was so far from the nearest village
that the advent of a visitor was an exciting event.
The brother and sister were both ordinary, common-
sense people, not at all superstitious nor given to
imagining unusual sights or sounds.
One evening they were both sitting over the fire
in the living-room at the farm. Jean was busy at
needlework and her brother was reading the news-
paper and smoking his pipe. Towards eleven o’clock
they heard the front door open and slow, heavy
footsteps, as of several people, crossing the hall.
Thinking it might be some of the farm servants,
they expected the footsteps to go towards the back
premises of the house, where the kitchen was. But
instead of that, to their great surprise, they heard
them ascending the stairs, heavily, step by step.
Rather alarmed, they both sprang up and went into
the hall, but no one was to be seen—though the
front door, which was unlocked, stood wide open-
and the footsteps went on upstairs.
Thoroughly mystified, they searched the house,
but every room was empty. There was no back
staircase, and as they had both distinctly heard the
slow, heavy footsteps going up the only staircase
that led to the upper part of the house after they
were in the hall, they looked very carefully under
the beds, and in all the cupboards and niches


In the Night 273 .
they could think of, but there was not a trace of
anyone. 4 '
The only thing to be done was to lock up the
house and go to bed, as no elucidation of the mystery
was forthcoming.
Soon after Jean was in bed she suddenly remem-
bered that they had forgotten to search a certain
cupboard at the head of the stairs, but she was
much too frightened to get up and explore it by
herself, so she lay all the rest of the night in deadly
fear that any moment the footsteps might approach
her door.
Feeling braver in the light of morning, she got
up early and went to the cupboard, but found it
locked on the outside and quite undisturbed.
The day wore on, and that evening the brother
and sister were again sitting over the fire. It was
a very stormy night, and a strong gale swept over
the moor. They had been talking over the mys-
terious event of the night before and trying to
account for it, when, to their amazement, they again
heard the hall door flung open and the heavy steps
come into the hall.
Determined to find out who the strange visitor
could be, they rushed to the door, and were met by
two men carrying a stretcher on which lay the body
of one of the neighbouring farmers, well known to
them both. The men explained that the dead man
had been missing since the previous evening, and
it was only at ten that night that the search-party
had come across his body. It was concluded that,
owing to the stormy weather, his horse must have
missed its footing and fallen into the river. They
s


274 The White Ghost Book
had brought the body to Maclean’s farm as being
much nearer than his own house, and had knocked,
but receiving no answer, on account of the noise
made by the gale, had entered.
Maclean directed that the body should be carried
upstairs, and it was borne up slowly step by step
by the searchers. As their heavy footsteps, slow
and ponderous, ascended the stairs, the brother and
sister looked at each other, and as they listened the
same thought was in the mind of each, for they
knew that the whole scene had been enacted in the
house the night before.
THE UNBIDDEN GUEST
STANDING on the hill overlooking the town of T——
is the beautiful thirteenth century house of L ,
which, before the Reformation, was a Hospital of
St. John of Jerusalem. Since its confiscation it has
been inhabited by families of K and Ci,
but is now the property of Captain R It con-
tains some good portraits of former owners. Most
of the rooms are panelled in oak. A chair, said to
have been used by James II. and supposed to be a
Chair of Death and fatal to those who sit in it, is
now consigned to the lumber-room. The reputation
of the house being “ haunted ” has always clung to
it. There is also a tradition that no child has ever
been born in the house.
In one of the rooms is a small oratory, which
overlooks the church and churchyard and is


The Unbidden Guest 275
approached by two steps from the bedroom. This
oratory has a cupboard which is supposed to be
the entrance to the passage and stairs leading to
the dungeons below. Some say it leads to the
river which runs below the house. This room is
called “ The Monk’s Room.”
“ I had a curious experience at this house,”
writes a correspondent, “ about six years ago.
“ I was invited to be present at the marriage of
the only daughter of Mr. and Mrs. D., who were
then occupying the house. After the wedding—
which had taken place in the Catholic ‘Church in
the town--the guests assembled in the garden, it
being a beautiful, hot summer’s day.
“ Whilst I was standing on the terrace over-
looking the lawn, I saw, walking alone, amongst the
guests, the figure of a priest, garbed in a long black
cloak piped with red, with hood behind, which he
wore over his black cassock. He was a small, thin,
dark man with clear-cut features and very dark,
‘ piercing eyes. He came towards me and seemed to
compel me to leave the terrace for the lawn below.
I obeyed the summons, but as I approached him, he
faded away, and although I looked for him amongst
the guests, his face being such a peculiar one and
his eyes having such a haunting look, I did not see
him again. I thought no more of it, supposing him
to be one of the priests who had assisted at the
marriage, but his face continued to haunt me.
“ I was at the house a month or two later, and
inquired of my hostess the name of the dark-eyed
priest who had been present at the wedding, and was
much astonished to hear that there had been only


276 The White Ghost Book
one priest present—one I knew, and whose appear-
ance did not correspond in the least with that of
the man I had seen.
“ I have been at that house many times since,
and also in the oratory room, but I have not seen
him any more.
“ Speaking to a friend of mine on this subject,
he said: ‘ I quite believe your story. There must
have been some “ spiritual affinity ” for you to
have seen him. But what a pity you did not enter
into conversation with him. No doubt he wanted
to tell you something.’
* * * * *
“ Another curious thing happened last summer
(1915). I had just ordered a new dress when, on
August 4th, I had a curious dream that I should
have to go into mourning. Suddenly, when my
maid called me in the morning, I said to her, ‘ I
shall have to order some mourning soon.’ She was
surprised, and reminded me that I had just arranged
to have a coloured gown. ‘ I shall not want it,’ I
replied; ‘ I shall have to remain in black for some
time ’—and that day I wrote for a black dress to
be sent me with all speed. On August 12th I heard
of the death of my aunt, and now—December 10th,
1915—I am still in mourning, and likely to remain
so, for I have just lost another relative.”


SOME STRANGE EXPERIENCES
Miss P. ABERIGH-MIACKAY, of Long Melford, Suffolk,
has always been psychically inclined, and has sent
me the following experiences:
“ As an art student I held a scholarship which
obliged me to teach, for a few hours every day, in
the school. I was given a geometry class. I knew
very little myself, and was haunted by the thought
that I should not get my pupils through their exam-
ination—the South Kensington Examination for the
Art Teacher’s Certificate.
“ When I awoke on the morning of the examina-
tion, I saw on the wall opposite my bed a geometrical
problem—all the points of the figure lettered—and
it was there all the time I was dressing. I was living
then in an art students’ home. On going down to
breakfast I told several of the students what I had
seen. They laughed and said, ‘ As you are always
having second sight, you had better go and teach
the problem to your class.’ I said I would. The
examination was to be held from 6 P.M. to 10 P.M.
About 5.30 I collected my class, drew the figure on
a board in the class-room, and gave them a lesson
on it. At 10.30 one of the students rushed round
to see me. She said, ‘ You have saved us all; that
question had the very highest marks.’ Letter for
letter, it was the same as the drawing I had left
on the board. I
“ I felt a horrible fraud, and to this day I am not
sure that I did not behave dishonestly, though,
needless to say, I had never seen the papers, and
277


278 The White Ghost Book
\
did not even know who had set them. How I got
my information I cannot tell.
1| * * i! *
“ I remember having a very curious vision some
time ago, while I was sharing a flat in Bloomsbury
with two friends. I went off one afternoon to
teach wood-carving to a class of boys. While I
was there, suddenly the room disappeared, and I
saw my friend, Miss D., looking at a shop window
in Oxford Street at some tea-sets. I knew instinc-
tively that she intended to buy one of them. A
moment after, she and the shop disappeared and I
was back in the classroom.
“ When I got home Miss D. said, ‘ You will never
guess what I am going to buy.’ I said, ‘ I know,’
and told her what I had seen, when she insisted
that I was just thought-reading, and refused to be
satisfied till the next day, when I took her to the
actual shop and showed her the chosen tea-set.
IF * * Q Il
l
“ I was still living at that flat when I had another
experience which made a great impression on me.
The flats were residential, and we dined table d’h6te.
One evening Miss W. and I came in late for dinner
and were put at a table with a Miss E., who had
only just come to live in the place. When we got
up, to go to our flat, she asked us to go in and have
coffee with her in her rooms, as she was expecting
some friends. We had nothing else to do, so accepted
the invitation.
“ Miss E. told us afterwards that she did not
know, at that time, which of us was Miss W. and


The Faithful Lovers 279
which Miss A., and, as the result, her introductions
were hazy. Among her friends was an old man .
with white hair. He very soon fixed his eyes on
me in a way which made me uncomfortable; then
he suddenly said, ‘You have a spirit standing be-
hind you!’ I giggled stupidly, at which he was
very angry, and retorted, ‘ If you can behave your-
self, I will tell you what he says. He tells me,’
he then went on, ‘ his name is Bert Harrison, and
that he was very fond of you as a boy. When he
grew up he went to Canada to learn farming, fell
off a haystack, and was killed, and his mouth was
filled with blood. He is very sad because you
never think of him.’
“ It gave me a shock, as I had known a boy
named Herbert Harrison very well, and he had gone
out to Canada and been killed about eight years
before. I wrote and told my mother, who still
corresponded with his sister—and she heard that
he was killed and found exactly as described. I
had never seen Mr. F. before, and he did not at
that time know my name. Neither had I ever
spoken to my friend, Miss W., about Herbert Harrison.
As a matter of fact, I am afraid I had forgotten him.
IF * # Ill *
“ I spent a year or two in South Africa, and
was staying in Grahamstown when one night I
heard myself called by name. I sat up in bed and
answered. I heard the voice again and again, and
finally got up and opened my door, but there was
no one there. Though the voice was familiar to
me, I could not guess the owner. In the morning


28o The White Ghost Book
I mentioned the incident to the maid who brought
my tea. She was quite excited. ‘ Oh, miss,’ she
said; ‘ you are sure to hear by to-day’s mail that
someone you know is dead.’ I also was afraid I
should, but I went through all my letters as usual
without finding any bad news. A week after, how-
ever, I heard from my mother that an uncle, of whom
I was very fond, had died, and that all that night,
in his delirium, he kept calling to me and worrying
because he had missed writing to me that particular
mail. He had always written regularly hitherto.
1! * II! # *
“ I had another rather odd experience in that
same room. It was on the first floor. I was sitting
at a window writing, when I saw a Miss M. in the
garden, and a few minutes after I called out some
remark to her. But, glancing down at the instant,
I noticed she was walking with someone—a stranger
to me—and I apologised for the intrusion.
“ Later on, when I went down to tea, she asked
me why I had made an apology, and I said, ‘ I thought
you were alone when I spoke.’ ‘So I was,’ she
replied. I was astonished, and described in detail
her companion as I had seen her, even to a little
ornament she wore round her neck. Miss M. was
very upset, and said, ‘ You have described my sister
exactly; I hope nothing has happened to her.’ We
heard she was quite well, so what the apparition
meant I do not know. I had never seen Miss M.’s
sister, and was not even aware of her existence. ,
* * * * III
“ Years ago, when resident at Eastbourne, I had


,A Prophetic Vision 281
just knelt down by my bedside to say my prayers,
when I saw vividly before me the following scene :—
“ Round the corner of a mountain road came a
little procession carrying a coffin. The men were
clothed in long, loose garments, with drapery over
their shoulders. I saw them and the country as
vividly as I have ever seen anything material. When
it disappeared, I went downstairs and told my
mother and my sister Frances.
“ Several years after I went to Kashmir. I re-
cognised it at once as the place I had seen in my
vision, and said so to several of my friends. Some
months after, my sister Frances came out to stay
with me. I went down to a place called Baramula
to meet her, and we met on the bank of the Shelum.
As we came across in a little boat to my house-boat,
which was on the opposite side, she looked at the
men rowing and said to me, ‘ This is the country
of your dream, but the funeral was mine. I shall
die here ! ’ I contradicted her, and we often argued
on the subject.
“ Eighteen months later she saw me off. I was
going down to India and home for a short time. ‘ I
shall never see you again——-remember your dream! ’
were her parting words. And I never did. She went
up, across the mountains, to Gilgit, and died there.
“ I often wonder if it was her funeral or mine,
as the Gilgit men do not dress exactly as the Kash-
miris do. I related the story to the Roman Catholic
priest in Srinagar. He told me he thought the whole
scene was figurative and was meant for my sister.
I do not agree with him.
=|= =1: * an ' #


282 The White Ghost Book
“ When I go to bed I lie on my back and make
my mind a blank, and almost instantly I am off.
Sometimes I find myself in crowded streets watching
the passers-by; sometimes in wonderful scenery.
For years I went to the same place—an island some-
where—of which I know every spot. Whether it
exists on earth or not, I do not know. I am inclined
to think it does.
“ I feel with training I could go where I willed,
but I have never done so yet. I generally indulge
in this amusement more when I am in a low state
of health. It is a very tiring, though very delightful,
occupation. Sometimes I lose the power for months,
and then it returns suddenly.”
PSYCHIC INFLUENCE ON ANIMALS
THE following, sent to me by a correspondent, is
particularly interesting as showing the suscepti-
bility of animals to psychic influence, of which
scores of instances have come to my knowledge.
“ Early in January, 1916, I was sitting at break-
fast with some friends at their house in a certain
street in South Kensington. My attention was
suddenly arrested by the sight of a dray-horse
plunging and kicking in a most extraordinary manner,
without an apparent cause.
“ Observing my surprise my hostess remarked,
‘ They are at it again.’
“ ‘ Who are at it ? ’ I asked.


Psychic Influence on Animals 283
“ ‘ The horses,’ was her reply, and I was then
told of a most curious incident connected with the
occurrence.
“ ‘ Twice a year,’ my hostess continued, ‘in this
road—indeed, opposite to my h0use—f0r some re-
markable reason, the majority come to a standstill,
and absolutely refuse to move; one had a seizure
and was taken away in a state of collapse, and many
exhibit signs of extreme panic and terror. Once
we were awakened at 6.30 A.M. by the noise and
confusion caused by a runaway horse, apparently
mad with terror.
“ ‘ Does this always happen on certain dates?’
I. interposed.
“ ‘ Almost to a day, and in the months of January
and July, for about a fortnight. During the rest of
the year everything is normal.’
“ I inquired if any reason could be assigned to
these happenings, and was informed that in mediaeval
times a monastery had existed at the end of the
road, and that its fate was uncertain, but it was
generally believed that Oliver Cromwell had lived
for a while in the neighbourhood.
“ It would be interesting to trace the connection
further. Is it possible that some of the Roundhead
leaders’ horses passed that way to or from the various
battles and engagements of that stormy period,
leaving perchance an impression of their influence
on the spot, or that the spirit of Oliver Cromwell *
appears on stated dates corresponding with his
* The ghost of Oliver Cromwell is also supposed to haunt a
house close to the Marble Arch, and is said to have been seen fre-
quently.--J. A. M.


284 The White Ghost Book
connection with the vicinity. Be that as it may,
the apparitions seem to be only visible to horses,
and in no way affecting any human being.”
THE UNHAPPY HOUSEMAID
A CORRESPONDENT has sent me the following story,
which raises several interesting questions:
“ Last autumn the housemaid at a compara-
tively new house was about to retire for the night
when she became aware of a figure crossing the
hall, as though to pass on into the dining-room
which at the moment was in darkness and quite
empty.
“ Thinking the figure to be that of a fellow-
servant, on account of a white apron tied with long
strings at the back, she called her by name, but
on receiving no reply she turned to go up another
flight of stairs to her bedroom. She then met the
servant she had supposed to be downstairs in the hall.
The latter declared that she had never left the upper
part of the house for the last hour, and that the
maid must have mistaken a reflection from a window
in the next house for herself.
“ Both soon forgot the episode, till its memory
was renewed by an uncanny happening to one of the
members of the family.
“ Soon after six o’clock one dark .morning she
was lying in bed half awake and half asleep, when
the door opened suddenly to admit a strange servant,


The Unhappy Housemaid 285
whose salient characteristic was a white apron with
long strings.
“ The stranger then walked towards the window,
and finally seemed to vanish into the wall.
“ A day or two later a visitor noticed an unknown
maid twice on the stairs, and another time in a differ-
ent part of the house, but of late there has been no
reappearance of this phantom.
“ Little light can be thrown on the subject, except
that, on piecing together some scanty evidence, I
have come to the conclusion that the repeated mys-
terious visitation was that of a woman still living who
had gone through a time of most grievous trouble
while in the service of a previous family who had left
the house about two years before her seeming double
walked the stairs and passages so persistently.”
TOLD BY A CANON
THE following story of a weird experience was re-
lated by a well known Canon to a" friend of mine,
and I have had permission from the former to include
it in this book, provided that I give only fictitious
names, or initials.
Canon X. was invited to stay with old friends
of his at a country house in Hampshire at which
he had often stayed before. He arrived about a
quarter-past four, and was received by his hostess,
an elderly lady, and had tea in the library before
a blazing fire.


286 The White Ghost Book
After tea his hostess said: “ I have given you
your old room, and your luggage has been taken
up there, if you would care to unpack. There is
no need to show you the way—is there ? ”
Canon X. laughed and thanked her, and said he
knew the way quite well. After chatting a few
minutes longer he said he would go and unpack,
and he went, quite alone, up the wide, old-fashioned
staircase that led to the part of the house where
the bedroom he usually occupied was situated.
He walked along the familiar landing and went
up to the door of the room. When he opened the
door the first thing he saw was his hostess, standing
by his luggage.
“ How in the world did you get up ? ” said the
astonished clergyman; but even as he said the
words she disappeared.
Terrified that the vision meant that something
had happened to her since he left the library, Canon
X. hastened downstairs and into the library, fearing
that he might find Mrs. —— dead; but there she
sat, reading tranquilly and looking just as she had
done when he had left her.
Seeing how agitated he was, Mrs. asked him
what was the matter. Being unwilling to alarm
her he began to stammer out some excuse for his
sudden return, when she said:
“ Don’t say you’ve seen me! It’s always hap-
pening ! ”
Then, to his amazement, she explained that
the extraordinary thing he had just experienced
happened constantly to her guests, and was well
known to most of them,


Told by a Canon 287
“ I can only explain it,” she concluded, “ by the
fact that I am very anxious for their comfort—so
anxious that my astral body detaches itself and
does what I, in my earthly body, am wishing to do,
that is to say, personally superintend every detail
of the arrangements for my guests’ reception and
entertainment. This particular instance has inter-
ested me very much, because I have never been seen
in that room before, though often in rooms on the
same landing. Curiously enough, I have never been
seen on the higher landing, though many of the
guests I was most anxious to honour have occupied
rooms on it.”


Pam-ran mr
Csssru. & Counmv, LIMITED,
L1. BELL! Saunas, Lomaon, E.C.
F 15.416













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