Part 9

The first I remember of anything disturbing was when my brother injured his foot and was laid up for a time. My eldest sister used to attend to him, and was surprised one morning, when she took his breakfast, by him asking why she came into his room during the night without speaking. She questioned him, and he told her someone came into his room and leaned over him as if to see if he was asleep, and, when he spoke, and got no answer, he felt to see if his watch was there, thinking it was someone after valuables. As he raised himself, the visitor disappeared. This happened several nights in succession. On another occasion, my mother was ill and, during the night, called to my sisters to take down the dog, which she said had jumped on her bed. They, too, could not explain what had happened, as the dog was peacefully sleeping downstairs and never was allowed upstairs. Father also had his share, for, while sitting reading one night, after everyone else had retired, and all doors locked and bolted, he was suddenly aroused from his book by hearing footsteps. Then the door at the end of a long passage was unlocked, and there came a gust of wind as if it was opened. The door closed, and was bolted again, and footsteps came towards the room. He asked who was there and, receiving no reply, went to investigate, but nothing was to be seen, and the door was still locked and bolted.

Father told the landlord of the experience and the latter stated he had the same thing happen when living there and could offer no explanation. I can well remember my feelings of relief when we removed to another house in a neighbouring village. That, too, had the reputation of being haunted, but, although we lived there some years, nothing happened to verify the statement.

WIDNES

JUST before the war I thought I would remove to a house I noticed had been vacant for a long period. On interviewing the landlord of the house, I was informed I could have the tenancy of the house two shillings per week cheaper than other tenants paid for houses in the same row. He would offer no explanation for this generous act. I, accordingly, moved into the house the same day. Retiring to bed the first night, I awoke about 12:30 a.m. to find standing in the moonlight that was streaming through the window, a man who I knew, but had not heard of for years. He was bleeding from a deep wound in the neck that had obviously been inflicted by a blood-stained carving knife he held in his right hand. Too horrified to utter a sound, I watched him draw the knife slowly across his throat, inflicting another wound, while he stared me straight in the eyes. After a low moan, he disappeared.

The next night, about the same time, I was awakened by hearing someone moaning in the room. This moaning was heard by the remainder of my family.

Determined to find out the cause of these happenings, I asked the next-door neighbour if he could explain them. “Don't you know?” he asked. “Jack” (mentioning the man I had seen) “committed suicide in your house. The landlord lets it cheaper than the others, but nobody will stay in it!”

Needless to say, I did not stay. I moved back to my old home, the same day. At the present time, although there is a shortage of houses, you can often see in the window of this house, the sign “To Let.”

TEMPLECOMBE

WHILST engaged in domestic service at a large county house on the Dorset border, a young scullery-maid, who was ill, told us the lady had been to see her, but she was, somehow, afraid of her, and she did not speak. We other three who were there thought this odd, and I asked what was she dressed in. The girl replied black, and she had shiny things in her hair and round her neck. I had happened to meet the lady in the corridor and she was wearing a blue tea gown, so we persuaded her she had been dreaming. In course of time, I met an old lady of eighty-five, who had lived in the house in the days of her youth. She asked me had I seen the ghost. I said no, and asked what it was like. She replied: “A lady in black with lots of diamonds on; she used to walk right the length of the first floor. The butler used to try to catch her, but never could.”

It was part of my duty every evening during the two years I lived there to shut shutters and fix bells on all the windows on this particular floor, yet I never saw anything, whereas the poor girl I have mentioned was in the house only three weeks and was so frightened.

SOUTH WALES

SOME years ago I was living in a small mining village in South Wales. Being a widow with a family, I was glad to let a married daughter and her husband rent part of the house. When I first went to live in that particular house the neighbours told me that a previous tenant, an old man who lived alone, was one morning found dead, sitting in a chair. I was, however, not at all superstitious, so thought no more about it.

We had got quite settled in our house, when, one night, on retiring to bed, we heard footsteps coming upstairs and stop at my bedroom door.

My daughter, aged thirteen years, was sleeping with me at the time, and, although we had been in bed some time, we were neither of us asleep, and lay waiting to see our door open, thinking it was either my married daughter or her husband, who were sleeping in the room below us. After several minutes had passed, we heard the same footsteps going downstairs, and, when they reached the bottom, we heard the catch of the bedroom door below, as if someone had passed in and closed the door. Judge of my surprise to find next morning that no one had been upstairs. But my daughter told me that, twice her bedroom door opened and her husband got out of bed and latched it again. Then they heard footsteps coming downstairs and, for the third time the door opened. This time my son-in-law got a light and went on a voyage of discovery, but could see no one. We agreed not to say anything about this in front of the younger children for fear of frightening them.

A day or so after, I was talking to a neighbour about some needlework she wished me to do for her. My little girl, aged eight years, was sitting in the kitchen with me, when, all at once, she gave one scream and rushed over to me, looking simply awful. When I could get the child calm enough to question her, she said a great white thing had sprung over the stairs banisters, and had nearly touched her. We hunted all over the house, but could not find anything to account for the apparition, which, she said, went into the coal place under the stairs. I tried to console her by saying it was a white cat that had got in, but she would not have this, as she said it was “heaps too big for a cat.”

The strange part about it was neither my neighbour nor myself had seen anything. We did not stay long in that house.

The two girls are women now, but they often talk about this, and wonder what it meant.

CLAPHAM

THERE is a certain house in ——— which is really haunted, although few people know it. This house belonged to a lady I used to know. I was very young then, and was able to run about in the pitch darkness with no childish fears whatever; yet, every time I entered this house, I always grew afraid. Of what I do not know; my mother also experienced this awful fear.

This lady had a brother who used to sleep in the attic. One night he awoke, and, to his horror, he beheld an old and ugly woman standing by his bed. I say “standing,” but he could see her only from the waist upwards. She was staring at him with an evil expression on her face. As he looked at her she gradually faded away. He said that the room was dark, but a light seemed to come from her. Her eyes were black and glittering; these were the last to fade. This man confessed that he was terrified and he spent the rest of the night under the bed clothes. He said that noises were heard in the unoccupied rooms, like people fighting.

This house, to the best of my knowledge is unoccupied now.

BARROW-IN-FURNESS

IN the village where I was born, at a point where four crossroads met, stood a house where lived an aged couple. One night the old man was found lying dead on the ground, having fallen from the bedroom window; a short time after, the old lady died.

The house was then rented by an elderly man with his family. These people could not sleep at night because of strange noises which resembled furniture being pushed about. The father declared a ghost entered his bedroom, took money from his pockets, counted it, and laid it on the dressing-table. The family became so frightened they quitted the house, and it was then let to a maiden lady.

One night the friends of this lady, who lived at a farm a mile away, were awakened by her knocking at their door. She was barefooted and in her nightdress. She was in an exhausted condition, and said somebody was in her house moving the furniture about.

She never returned to the house and died shortly after from shock, it was said.

No one could ever account for the ghostly visitor or the noises, and, as long as I remained in the village, the house stood empty and was always said to be “haunted.”

BARNES

ABOUT twenty years ago, I was living with my husband and children in Barnes. My daughter was studying for an examination and frequently sat up till one or two o'clock working. Sometimes we heard her calling out, and she complained of being visited by a middle-aged lady dressed in grey.

One night we had all gone to bed, when I heard her calling in great distress. I made up my mind to go and sleep with her, thinking she was over-wrought by her studies. I had hardly laid down beside her when the door opened and a lady in grey came slowly in. I felt myself shaking, and my daughter called out: “What is the matter, mother? You are trembling.” I was anxious to hide the fact that I saw anything, and remained silent. “Mother, there she goes,” she called out, and I saw the apparition disappear through the wall.

Afterwards, I heard from a woman who had been servant in the house before we bought it, that a lady answering to my description of our visitor had died in that room.

HANDSWORTH

SOME twenty years ago, my mother, sister, brother and self, went to stay with friends at an Essex manor house. In the afternoon our host took the horse and trap to stay the night at an outlying town in order to be ready for the horse fair next day. My brother and I were left in bed with a light. After a time the door opened and a big man stood there and nodded to us. In the dim light, we, thinking by his size he was our host, called out “Goodnight, Mr. B.” He then closed the door. My mother and sister went to bed, bolting their door. During the night my mother heard shuffling in the corridor, extra loud where a tall man would have to stoop. Then her door was tried and, whoever it was, continued into the next bedroom, which was our hostess’s. In the morning my mother's door was open. On recounting our experiences over breakfast, one of our host’s sons blurted out “Why, it's only old R.'s ghost walking again; they are doing his grave up.” Our host had not been home at all that night.

My mother and sister returned home that day, but we stayed on. We were only about nine or ten years old. When we saw the grave it had a tarpaulin cover over it and was being done up. R. had committed suicide. Owing to the noises in the house and the stories told about it, our friends had been able to get the place at a reduced rent. All the above facts can be verified and vouched for.

BURTON LATIMER

AS a young married woman, I went from a large town to live in a small village in Buckinghamshire where my husband had got work. We thought we were very lucky to get a nice old-fashioned house that stood by itself in a lane. It seems that the house had been empty some time. I made many friends, but none ever told me the house had a bad name, or anything about it. Did I believe in ghosts? Certainly not! But, after six months in that uncanny house, I would believe anything. The first signs in this peculiar house began when we had been there about a month. Chairs were scraped across the floor in the small kitchen (always in the evening), sounds of crockery smashing, bumps overhead, and doors banging. My two small children were mysteriously moved from one bed to another nightly for about a fortnight. At first we were not alarmed and tried hard to find out who was playing a game with us. None of the villagers would come near the house because they said it was haunted. I never saw anything, but my husband did, and it so got on his nerves that he would not stay in the house by himself.

The house was supposed to be haunted by a tall lady in rustling silk. I certainly heard the rustle and the moaning, but I never saw the lady. Anyhow, she certainly made us as restless as she was herself. Later on, my husband got work away, only coming home for week-ends, for we were very anxious to get away from the house and to be peaceful again. I understand that no one would take the old house after we left it, and it was pulled down and rebuilt. I wonder if that laid the ghost? I could never understand what caused the trouble there, but after that experience, do I believe in ghosts? Yes, I think so!

A MILITARY MAN

SOME years ago I was nursing an old lady and went with her to stay at her brother's—an old country manor house. One night the maids forgot to bring the milk my patient always had, so, about 2:00 a.m., I set out for the larder to fetch it. Our room opened into a long corridor which had several large windows. It was a moonlight night. I knew everyone had long since gone to bed so was very surprised to see someone coming to meet me. But my surprise turned to horror when I saw that it was no member of the household, but the figure of a very tall dark man in the military uniform of over a century ago. He seemed to glide, not walk. I waited until the figure was within a few feet of me and then I fled back to my patient. She begged me to say nothing of what I had seen, as the family already found it difficult to keep maids, owing to the frequent occurrence of strange noises as if the house was being ransacked and all the china smashed. A few years after my experience the property was sold as the owners could stand no more of the ghostly racket, and it has constantly changed tenants since.

“YOU ARE IN MY BED”

THIS may interest your readers. It happened to me in London in the year 1887. On going to live in London, not far from Kilburn, with people who were quite strangers to me, I had the following strange experience during my first night. I retired just after ten and was soon sound asleep, when a voice beside the bed said, "You are in my bed," and repeated it several times. I looked both sides of the bed, but could see nothing, but, over by the dressing table, I saw a young man of about twenty-six. He was wearing a white shirt, braces and grey striped trousers and his black hair showed plainly against a very white face.

Next morning I told of what I had seen and was informed that a young man such as I described was the previous occupier of the room and had died there only a few weeks earlier.

THE WOMAN IN BROWN

ABOUT twenty-five years ago Mr. and Mrs. D. took up their residence in a house in a small Oxfordshire village. Previous to their arrival Mrs. D. had not seen the house nor had she heard anything to suggest that the house was haunted.

On the evening of their arrival Mr. D. went to the village whilst Mrs. D. arranged small articles of furniture. It was twilight but she could see distinctly and, entering the house by the back door, was astonished to notice a woman standing in the kitchen. She, naturally, uttered an exclamation of surprise, and the figure faded away. An examination of all rooms, which she immediately undertook, showed that no person was concealed in them. Mrs. D. had no feelings of fear, but the personal appearance and costume of the figure impressed her vividly and became fixed in her memory. The figure was that of a tall woman, dressed entirely in brown. She had grey hair and a rather thin face on which melancholy was expressed.

Later, the D's learned it was rumoured that their new residence was haunted, one villager assuring them he would not care to live there. Mrs. D. gained some significant information regarding a married couple who had occupied the house previous to the tenants whom the D's succeeded. The wife had died there, having been badly treated, according to all accounts, by the husband. Mrs. D. asked for a description of the dead woman. This tallied with the apparition which she had seen! The apparition did not appear again, but Mrs. D. said she often felt the presence of another woman in the house when alone.

One day, years later, liking such exercise, Mrs. D. sawed up an elm bough, lopped from an overhanging tree. Succeeding sections showed a pattern; in the annular rings there was discernible the figure of the woman in brown. This was corroborated by others.

The question arises, ‘Did the thoughts of the woman in brown continue, after bodily death, to inhabit the spot where she had been so unhappy, impressing themselves, not only on another's mind but on the internal structure of the tree near by?’

“IS THAT YOU, TOM?”

Many years ago, I, accompanied by my infant son, went to spend a few days at my brother's home—a lonely farm on the Derbyshire moors.

My brother was away when I arrived, and was not expected back until next day. During the night, I was awakened by the feeling that someone was leaning over me as I lay in bed. Looking up, I saw a dark shadowy form and, thinking that my brother had returned sooner than expected, and had come in to see me, I put out my hand saying, “Is that you, Tom?” There was no answer, and the shadow faded. I sat up in bed, wondering if it was my imagination, then, taking a look at my sleeping son, I composed myself for sleep again.

Next morning, I asked my sister-in-law if my brother had returned. Receiving a negative reply, I related the incident of the night. My sister-in-law said, “Oh, Anne! have you seen it also?” Then she told me that whenever my brother was away for the night she always prayed that she might sleep soundly and not be disturbed by the shadow that she had so often seen leaning over her bed—sometimes at the foot and sometimes at the side of the bed. Shortly after my visit, my brother was visited by relatives of his wife from Southport—people whom I did not know—and, one morning, they burst into the kitchen asking if the house was haunted and declaring that a big dark shadow had been in their room during the night. They made quite a joke of it.

Now, as I am a very sceptical person, in spite of my own experience, I asked my cousin, from whom my brother rented the house, and who had lived there, if he had seen anything. He did not want to say he had, but, when pressed, admitted that both he and his mother and father knew about the manifestations. He told me that one night, sitting up to attend to a sick cow, he had locked the kitchen door and was sitting by the fire, when, suddenly, the door was flung open and a tall man walked into the kitchen, passed through the sitting-room, and clanked upstairs. (The farmhouse has only one doorway which opens directly into the kitchen.) My uncle, who was in bed, called out, “Is that you, Walter?” But it wasn't Walter; he was still sitting by the fire spellbound and gazing at the still locked door. There was no one upstairs but the family in bed. I afterwards asked my aunt what she made of it. She was a deeply religious woman, and, without hesitation, she simply said, “Aye, Anne, I’ve seen it many a time, but I don't mind, it's harmless enough.”

I often wonder, can we all have imagined it? I knew nothing about it till I went there—nor did the Southport visitors; and my relatives were very averse to talking about the visitations.

“OUR GHOST”

GHOSTS! Of course there are ghosts, and we should feel lost if our ghost did not walk about at times. We have lived in this house for eighteen years and it was a bit uncanny at first to hear footsteps come down the stairs, then see the handle of the door turn. We would look up expecting to see someone, and so we christened the occurrence as “Our Ghost.” Still, I must say there is something in the house. Our dog will be asleep on the rug, and, all at once, will get up and stare at the door for some time and then whine. There are times when the cat fights shy of the passage. It is only a few months ago that we heard someone (or something) at midnight move about downstairs and then we heard the front door bang. We went down to investigate and then remembered “Our Ghost.” This is after a life of eighteen years in the same house. Of course, there are ghosts.

A MAN WITH AN AXE