{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_12621/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_12621","id":"gutenberg_12621","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/12621","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Psychiatry/Psychology","Category: Short Stories","Dreams","Ghosts"],"text":"THE BOOK OF DREAMS AND GHOSTS\n\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE TO THE NEW IMPRESSION\n\n\nSince the first edition of this book appeared (1897) a considerable\nnumber of new and startling ghost stories, British, Foreign and\nColonial, not yet published, have reached me.  Second Sight abounds.\nCrystal Gazing has also advanced in popularity.  For a singular series\nof such visions, in which distant persons and places, unknown to the\ngazer, were correctly described by her, I may refer to my book, The\nMaking of Religion (1898).  A memorial stone has been erected on the\nscene of the story called \"The Foul Fords\" (p. 269), so that tale is\nlikely to endure in tradition.\n\nJuly, 1899.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION\n\n\nThe chief purpose of this book is, if fortune helps, to entertain\npeople interested in the kind of narratives here collected.  For the\nsake of orderly arrangement, the stories are classed in different\ngrades, as they advance from the normal and familiar to the undeniably\nstartling.  At the same time an account of the current theories of\nApparitions is offered, in language as free from technicalities as\npossible.  According to modern opinion every \"ghost\" is a\n\"hallucination,\" a false perception, the perception of something which\nis not present.\n\nIt has not been thought necessary to discuss the psychological and\nphysiological processes involved in perception, real or false.  Every\n\"hallucination\" is a perception, \"as good and true a sensation as if\nthere were a real object there.  The object happens _not_ to be there,\nthat is all.\" {0a}  We are not here concerned with the visions of\ninsanity, delirium, drugs, drink, remorse, or anxiety, but with\n\"sporadic cases of hallucination, visiting people only once in a\nlifetime, which seems to be by far the most frequent type\".  \"These,\"\nsays Mr. James, \"are on any theory hard to understand in detail.  They\nare often extraordinarily complete; and the fact that many of them are\nreported as _veridical_, that is, as coinciding with real events, such\nas accidents, deaths, etc., of the persons seen, is an additional\ncomplication of the phenomenon.\" {0b}  A ghost, if seen, is undeniably\nso far a \"hallucination\" that it gives the impression of the presence\nof a real person, in flesh, blood, and usually clothes.  No such\nperson in flesh, blood, and clothes, is actually there.  So far, at\nleast, every ghost is a hallucination, \"_that_\" in the language of\nCaptain Cuttle, \"you may lay to,\" without offending science, religion,\nor common-sense.  And that, in brief, is the modern doctrine of\nghosts.\n\nThe old doctrine of \"ghosts\" regarded them as actual \"spirits\" of the\nliving or the dead, freed from the flesh or from the grave.  This\nview, whatever else may be said for it, represents the simple\nphilosophy of the savage, which may be correct or erroneous.  About\nthe time of the Reformation, writers, especially Protestant writers,\npreferred to look on apparitions as the work of deceitful devils, who\nmasqueraded in the aspect of the dead or living, or made up phantasms\nout of \"compressed air\".  The common-sense of the eighteenth century\ndismissed all apparitions as \"dreams\" or hoaxes, or illusions caused\nby real objects misinterpreted, such as rats, cats, white posts,\nmaniacs at large, sleep-walkers, thieves, and so forth.  Modern\nscience, when it admits the possibility of occasional hallucinations\nin the sane and healthy, also admits, of course, the existence of\napparitions.  These, for our purposes, are hallucinatory appearances\noccurring in the experience of people healthy and sane.  The\ndifficulty begins when we ask whether these appearances ever have any\nprovoking mental cause outside the minds of the people who experience\nthem--any cause arising in the minds of others, alive or dead.  This\nis a question which orthodox psychology does not approach, standing\naside from any evidence which may be produced.\n\nThis book does not pretend to be a convincing, but merely an\nillustrative collection of evidence.  It may, or may not, suggest to\nsome readers the desirableness of further inquiry; the author\ncertainly does not hope to do more, if as much.\n\nIt may be urged that many of the stories here narrated come from\nremote times, and, as the testimony for these cannot be rigidly\nstudied, that the old unauthenticated stories clash with the analogous\ntales current on better authority in our own day.  But these ancient\nlegends are given, not as evidence, but for three reasons:  first,\nbecause of their merit as mere stories; next, because several of them\nare now perhaps for the first time offered with a critical discussion\nof their historical sources; lastly, because the old legends seem to\nshow how the fancy of periods less critical than ours dealt with such\nfacts as are now reported in a dull undramatic manner.  Thus (1) the\nIcelandic ghost stories have peculiar literary merit as simple\ndramatic narratives.  (2) Every one has heard of the Wesley ghost, Sir\nGeorge Villiers's spectre, Lord Lyttelton's ghost, the Beresford\nghost, Mr. Williams's dream of Mr. Perceval's murder, and so forth.\nBut the original sources have not, as a rule, been examined in the\nordinary spirit of calm historical criticism, by aid of a comparison\nof the earliest versions in print or manuscript.  (3) Even ghost\nstories, as a rule, have some basis of fact, whether fact of\nhallucination, or illusion, or imposture.  They are, at lowest, \"human\ndocuments\".  Now, granting such facts (of imposture, hallucination, or\nwhat you will), as our dull, modern narratives contain, we can regard\nthese facts, or things like these, as the nuclei which our less\ncritical ancestors elaborated into their extraordinary romances.  In\nthis way the belief in demoniacal possession (distinguished, as such,\nfrom madness and epilepsy) has its nucleus, some contend, in the\nphenomena of alternating personalities in certain patients.  Their\ncharacters, ideas, habits, and even voices change, and the most\nobvious solution of the problem, in the past, was to suppose that a\nnew alien personality--a \"devil\"--had entered into the sufferer.\n\nAgain, the phenomena occurring in \"haunted houses\" (whether caused, or\nnot, by imposture or hallucination, or both) were easily magnified\ninto such legends as that of Grettir and Glam, and into the\nmonstrosities of the witch trials.  Once more the simple hallucination\nof a dead person's appearance in his house demanded an explanation.\nThis was easily given by evolving a legend that he was a spirit,\nescaped from purgatory or the grave, to fulfil a definite purpose.\nThe rarity of such purposeful ghosts in an age like ours, so rich in\nghost stories, must have a cause.  That cause is, probably, a\ndwindling of the myth-making faculty.\n\nAny one who takes these matters seriously, as facts in human nature,\nmust have discovered the difficulty of getting evidence at first hand.\nThis arises from several causes.  First, the cock-sure common-sense of\nthe years from 1660 to 1850, or so, regarded every one who had\nexperience of a hallucination as a dupe, a lunatic, or a liar.  In\nthis healthy state of opinion, eminent people like Lord Brougham kept\ntheir experience to themselves, or, at most, nervously protested that\nthey \"were sure it was only a dream\".  Next, to tell the story was,\noften, to enter on a narrative of intimate, perhaps painful, domestic\ncircumstances.  Thirdly, many persons now refuse information as a\nmatter of \"principle,\" or of \"religious principle,\" though it is\ndifficult to see where either principle or religion is concerned, if\nthe witness is telling what he believes to be true.  Next, some\ndevotees of science aver that these studies may bring back faith by a\nside wind, and, with faith, the fires of Smithfield and the torturing\nof witches.  These opponents are what Professor Huxley called\n\"dreadful consequences argufiers,\" when similar reasons were urged\nagainst the doctrine of evolution.  Their position is strongest when\nthey maintain that these topics have a tendency to befog the\nintellect.  A desire to prove the existence of \"new forces\" may beget\nindifference to logic and to the laws of evidence.  This is true, and\nwe have several dreadful examples among men otherwise scientific.  But\nall studies have their temptations.  Many a historian, to prove the\nguilt or innocence of Queen Mary, has put evidence, and logic, and\ncommon honesty far from him.  Yet this is no reason for abandoning the\nstudy of history.\n\nThere is another class of difficulties.  As anthropology becomes\npopular, every inquirer knows what customs he _ought_ to find among\nsavages, so, of course, he finds them.  In the same way, people may\nnow know what customs it is orthodox to find among ghosts, and may\npretend to find them, or may simulate them by imposture.  The white\nsheet and clanking chains are forsaken for a more realistic rendering\nof the ghostly part.  The desire of social notoriety may beget wanton\nfabrications.  In short, all studies have their perils, and these are\namong the dangers which beset the path of the inquirer into things\nghostly.  He must adopt the stoical maxim:  \"Be sober and do not\nbelieve\"--in a hurry.\n\nIf there be truth in even one case of \"telepathy,\" it will follow that\nthe human soul is a thing endowed with attributes not yet recognised\nby science.  It cannot be denied that this is a serious consideration,\nand that very startling consequences might be deduced from it; such\nbeliefs, indeed, as were generally entertained in the ages of\nChristian darkness which preceded the present era of enlightenment.\nBut our business in studies of any kind is, of course, with truth, as\nwe are often told, not with the consequences, however ruinous to our\nmost settled convictions, or however pernicious to society.\n\nThe very opposite objection comes from the side of religion.  These\nthings we learn, are spiritual mysteries into which men must not\ninquire.  This is only a relic of the ancient opinion that he was an\nimpious character who first launched a boat, God having made man a\nterrestrial animal.  Assuredly God put us into a world of phenomena,\nand gave us inquiring minds.  We have as much right to explore the\nphenomena of these minds as to explore the ocean.  Again, if it be\nsaid that our inquiries may lead to an undignified theory of the\nfuture life (so far they have not led to any theory at all), that,\nalso, is the position of the Dreadful Consequences Argufier.  Lastly,\n\"the stories may frighten children\".  For children the book is not\nwritten, any more than if it were a treatise on comparative anatomy.\n\nThe author has frequently been asked, both publicly and privately:\n\"Do you believe in ghosts?\"  One can only answer:  \"How do you define\na ghost?\"  I do believe, with all students of human nature, in\nhallucinations of one, or of several, or even of all the senses.  But\nas to whether such hallucinations, among the sane, are ever caused by\npsychical influences from the minds of others, alive or dead, not\ncommunicated through the ordinary channels of sense, my mind is in a\nbalance of doubt.  It is a question of evidence.\n\nIn this collection many stories are given without the real names of\nthe witnesses.  In most of the cases the real names, and their owners,\nare well known to myself.  In not publishing the names I only take the\ncommon privilege of writers on medicine and psychology.  In other\ninstances the names are known to the managers of the Society for\nPsychical Research, who have kindly permitted me to borrow from their\ncollections.\n\nWhile this book passed through the press, a long correspondence called\n\"On the Trail of a Ghost\" appeared in The Times.  It illustrated the\ncopious fallacies which haunt the human intellect.  Thus it was\nmaintained by some persons, and denied by others, that sounds of\nunknown origin were occasionally heard in a certain house.  These, it\nwas suggested, might (if really heard) be caused by slight seismic\ndisturbances.  Now many people argue, \"Blunderstone House is not\nhaunted, for I passed a night there, and nothing unusual occurred\".\nApply this to a house where noises are actually caused by young\nearthquakes.  Would anybody say:  \"There are no seismic disturbances\nnear Blunderstone House, for I passed a night there, and none\noccurred\"?  Why should a noisy ghost (if there is such a thing) or a\nhallucinatory sound (if there is such a thing), be expected to be more\npunctual and pertinacious than a seismic disturbance?  Again, the\ngentleman who opened the correspondence with a long statement on the\nnegative side, cried out, like others, for scientific publicity, for\nnames of people and places.  But neither he nor his allies gave their\nown names.  He did not precisely establish his claim to confidence by\npublishing his version of private conversations.  Yet he expected\nscience and the public to believe his anonymous account of a\nconversation, with an unnamed person, at which he did not and could\nnot pretend to have been present.  He had a theory of sounds heard by\nhimself which could have been proved, or disproved, in five minutes,\nby a simple experiment.  But that experiment he does not say that he\nmade.\n\nThis kind of evidence is thought good enough on the negative side.  It\ncertainly would not be accepted by any sane person for the affirmative\nside.  If what is called psychical research has no other results, at\nleast it enables us to perceive the fallacies which can impose on the\ncredulity of common-sense.\n\nIn preparing this collection of tales, I owe much to Mr. W. A.\nCraigie, who translated the stories from the Gaelic and the Icelandic;\nto Miss Elspeth Campbell, who gives a version of the curious Argyll\ntradition of Ticonderoga (rhymed by Mr. Robert Louis Stevenson, who\nput a Cameron where a Campbell should be); to Miss Violet Simpson, who\nfound the Windham MS. about the Duke of Buckingham's story, and made\nother researches; and to Miss Goodrich Freer, who pointed out the\nfamily version of \"The Tyrone Ghost\".\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\n\nArbuthnot on Political Lying.  Begin with \"Great Swingeing\nFalsehoods\".  The Opposite Method to be used in telling Ghost Stones.\nBegin with the more Familiar and Credible.  Sleep.  Dreams.  Ghosts\nare identical with Waking Dreams.  Possibility of being Asleep when we\nthink we are Awake.  Dreams shared by several People.  Story of the\nDog Fanti.  The Swithinbank Dream.  Common Features of Ghosts and\nDreams.  Mark Twain's Story.  Theory of Common-sense.  Not Logical.\nFulfilled Dreams.  The Pig in the Palace.  The Mignonette.  Dreams of\nReawakened Memory.  The Lost Cheque.  The Ducks' Eggs.  The Lost Key.\nDrama in Dreams.  The Lost Securities.  The Portuguese Gold-piece.\nSt. Augustine's Story.  The Two Curmas.  Knowledge acquired in Dreams.\nThe Assyrian Priest.  The Deja Vu.  \"I have been here before.\"  Sir\nWalter's Experience.  Explanations.  The Knot in the Shutter.\nTransition to Stranger Dreams.\n\nArbuthnot, in his humorous work on Political Lying, commends the Whigs\nfor occasionally trying the people with \"great swingeing falsehoods\".\nWhen these are once got down by the populace, anything may follow\nwithout difficulty.  Excellently as this practice has worked in\npolitics (compare the warming-pan lie of 1688), in the telling of\nghost stories a different plan has its merits.  Beginning with the\ncommon-place and familiar, and therefore credible, with the thin end\nof the wedge, in fact, a wise narrator will advance to the rather\nunusual, the extremely rare, the undeniably startling, and so arrive\nat statements which, without this discreet and gradual initiation, a\nhasty reader might, justly or unjustly, dismiss as \"great swingeing\nfalsehoods\".\n\nThe nature of things and of men has fortunately made this method at\nonce easy, obvious, and scientific.  Even in the rather fantastic\nrealm of ghosts, the stories fall into regular groups, advancing in\ndifficulty, like exercises in music or in a foreign language.  We\ntherefore start from the easiest Exercises in Belief, or even from\nthose which present no difficulty at all.  The defect of the method is\nthat easy stories are dull reading.  But the student can \"skip\".  We\nbegin with common every-night dreams.\n\nSleeping is as natural as waking; dreams are nearly as frequent as\nevery-day sensations, thoughts, and emotions.  But dreams, being\nfamiliar, are credible; it is admitted that people do dream; we reach\nthe less credible as we advance to the less familiar.  For, if we\nthink for a moment, the alleged events of ghostdom--apparitions of all\nsorts--are precisely identical with the every-night phenomena of\ndreaming, except for the avowed element of sleep in dreams.\n\nIn dreams, time and space are annihilated, and two severed lovers may\nbe made happy.  In dreams, amidst a grotesque confusion of things\nremembered and things forgot, we _see_ the events of the past (I have\nbeen at Culloden fight and at the siege of Troy); we are present in\nplaces remote; we behold the absent; we converse with the dead, and we\nmay even (let us say by chance coincidence) forecast the future.  All\nthese things, except the last, are familiar to everybody who dreams.\nIt is also certain that similar, but yet more vivid, false experiences\nmay be produced, at the word of the hypnotiser, in persons under the\nhypnotic sleep.  A hypnotised man will take water for wine, and get\ndrunk on it.\n\nNow, the ghostly is nothing but the experience, when men are awake, or\n_apparently_ awake, of the every-night phenomena of dreaming.  The\nvision of the absent seen by a waking, or apparently waking, man is\ncalled \"a wraith\"; the waking, or apparently waking, vision of the\ndead is called \"a ghost\".  Yet, as St. Augustine says, the absent man,\nor the dead man, may know no more of the vision, and may have no more\nto do with causing it, than have the absent or the dead whom we are\nperfectly accustomed to see in our dreams.  Moreover, the\ncomparatively rare cases in which two or more waking people are\nalleged to have seen the same \"ghost,\" simultaneously or in\nsuccession, have _their_ parallel in sleep, where two or more persons\nsimultaneously dream the same dream.  Of this curious fact let us give\none example:  the names only are altered.\n\nTHE DOG FANTI\n\nMrs. Ogilvie of Drumquaigh had a poodle named Fanti.  Her family, or\nat least those who lived with her, were her son, the laird, and three\ndaughters.  Of these the two younger, at a certain recent date, were\npaying a short visit to a neighbouring country house.  Mrs. Ogilvie\nwas accustomed to breakfast in her bedroom, not being in the best of\nhealth.  One morning Miss Ogilvie came down to breakfast and said to\nher brother, \"I had an odd dream; I dreamed Fanti went mad\".\n\n\"Well, that _is_ odd,\" said her brother.  \"So did I.  We had better\nnot tell mother; it might make her nervous.\"\n\nMiss Ogilvie went up after breakfast to see the elder lady, who said,\n\"Do turn out Fanti; I dreamed last night that he went mad and bit\".\n\nIn the afternoon the two younger sisters came home.\n\n\"How did you enjoy yourselves?\" one of the others asked.\n\n\"We didn't sleep well.  I was dreaming that Fanti went mad when Mary\nwakened me, and said she had dreamed Fanti went mad, and turned into a\ncat, and we threw him into the fire.\"\n\nThus, as several people may see the same ghost at once, several people\nmay dream the same dream at once.  As a matter of fact, Fanti lived,\nsane and harmless, \"all the length of all his years\". {4}\n\nNow, this anecdote is credible, certainly is credible by people who\nknow the dreaming family.  It is nothing more than a curiosity of\ncoincidences; and, as Fanti remained a sober, peaceful hound, in face\nof five dreamers, the absence of fulfilment increases the readiness of\nbelief.  But compare the case of the Swithinbanks.  Mr. Swithinbank,\non 20th May, 1883, signed for publication a statement to this effect:--\n\nDuring the Peninsular war his father and his two brothers were\nquartered at Dover.  Their family were at Bradford.  The brothers\nslept in various quarters of Dover camp.  One morning they met after\nparade.  \"O William, I have had a queer dream,\" said Mr. Swithinbank's\nfather.  \"So have I,\" replied the brother, when, to the astonishment\nof both, the other brother, John, said, \"I have had a queer dream as\nwell.  I dreamt that mother was dead.\"   \"So did I,\" said each of the\nother brothers.  And the mother had died on the night of this\ndreaming.  Mrs. Hudson, daughter of one of the brothers, heard the\nstory from all three. {5a}\n\nThe distribution of the fulfilled is less than that of the unfulfilled\ndream by three to five.  It has the extra coincidence of the death.\nBut as it is very common to dream of deaths, some such dreams must\noccasionally hit the target.\n\nOther examples might be given of shared dreams:  {5b} they are only\nmentioned here to prove that all the _waking_ experiences of things\nghostly, such as visions of the absent and of the dead, and of the\nnon-existent, are familiar, and may even be common simultaneously to\nseveral persons, in _sleep_.  That men may sleep without being aware\nof it, even while walking abroad; that we may drift, while we think\nourselves awake, into a semi-somnolent state for a period of time\nperhaps almost imperceptible is certain enough.  Now, the peculiarity\nof sleep is to expand or contract time, as we may choose to put the\ncase.  Alfred Maury, the well-known writer on Greek religion, dreamed\na long, vivid dream of the Reign of Terror, of his own trial before a\nRevolutionary Tribunal, and of his execution, in the moment of time\nduring which he was awakened by the accidental fall of a rod in the\ncanopy of his bed, which touched him on the neck.  Thus even a\nprolonged interview with a ghost may _conceivably_ be, in real time, a\nless than momentary dream occupying an imperceptible tenth of a second\nof somnolence, the sleeper not realising that he has been asleep.\n\nMark Twain, who is seriously interested in these subjects, has\npublished an experience illustrative of such possibilities.  He tells\nhis tale at considerable length, but it amounts to this:--\n\nMARK TWAIN'S STORY\n\nMark was smoking his cigar outside the door of his house when he saw a\nman, a stranger, approaching him.  Suddenly he ceased to be visible!\nMark, who had long desired to see a ghost, rushed into his house to\nrecord the phenomenon.  There, seated on a chair in the hall, was the\nvery man, who had come on some business.  As Mark's negro footman\nacts, when the bell is rung, on the principle, \"Perhaps they won't\npersevere,\" his master is wholly unable to account for the\ndisappearance of the visitor, whom he never saw passing him or waiting\nat his door--except on the theory of an unconscious nap.  Now, a\ndisappearance is quite as mystical as an appearance, and much less\ncommon.\n\nThis theory, that apparitions come in an infinitesimal moment of\nsleep, while a man is conscious of his surroundings and believes\nhimself to be awake was the current explanation of ghosts in the\neighteenth century.  Any educated man who \"saw a ghost\" or \"had a\nhallucination\" called it a \"dream,\" as Lord Brougham and Lord\nLyttelton did.  But, if the death of the person seen coincided with\nhis appearance to them, they illogically argued that, out of the\ninnumerable multitude of dreams, some _must_ coincide, accidentally,\nwith facts.  They strove to forget that though dreams in sleep are\nuniversal and countless, \"dreams\" in waking hours are extremely rare--\nunique, for instance, in Lord Brougham's own experience.  Therefore,\nthe odds against chance coincidence are very great.\n\nDreams only form subjects of good dream-stories when the vision\ncoincides with and adequately represents an _unknown_ event in the\npast, the present, or the future.  We dream, however vividly, of the\nmurder of Rizzio.  Nobody is surprised at that, the incident being\nfamiliar to most people, in history and art.  But, if we dreamed of\nbeing present at an unchronicled scene in Queen Mary's life, and if,\n_after_ the dream was recorded, a document proving its accuracy should\nbe for the first time recovered, then there is matter for a good\ndream-story. {8}  Again, we dream of an event not to be naturally\nguessed or known by us, and our dream (which should be recorded before\ntidings of the fact arrive) tallies with the news of the event when it\ncomes.  Or, finally, we dream of an event (recording the dream), and\nthat event occurs in the future.  In all these cases the actual\noccurrence of the unknown event is the only addition to the dream's\nusual power of crumpling up time and space.\n\nAs a rule such dreams are only mentioned _after_ the event, and so are\nnot worth noticing.  Very often the dream is forgotten by the dreamer\ntill he hears of or sees the event.  He is then either reminded of his\ndream by association of ideas or _he has never dreamed at all_, and\nhis belief that he has dreamed is only a form of false memory, of the\ncommon sensation of \"having been here before,\" which he attributes to\nan awakened memory of a real dream.  Still more often the dream is\nunconsciously cooked by the narrator into harmony with facts.\n\nAs a rule fulfilled dreams deal with the most trivial affairs, and\nsuch as, being usual, may readily occur by chance coincidence.  Indeed\nit is impossible to set limits to such coincidence, for it would\nindeed be extraordinary if extraordinary coincidences never occurred.\n\nTo take examples:--\n\nTHE PIG IN THE DINING-ROOM\n\nMrs. Atlay, wife of a late Bishop of Hereford, dreamed one night that\nthere was a pig in the dining-room of the palace.  She came\ndownstairs, and in the hall told her governess and children of the\ndream, before family prayers.  When these were over, nobody who was\ntold the story having left the hall in the interval, she went into the\ndining-room and there was the pig.  It was proved to have escaped from\nthe sty after Mrs. Atlay got up.  Here the dream is of the common\ngrotesque type; millions of such things are dreamed.  The event, the\npig in the palace, is unusual, and the coincidence of pig and dream is\nstill more so.  But unusual events must occur, and each has millions\nof dreams as targets to aim at, so to speak.  It would be surprising\nif no such target were ever hit.\n\nHere is another case--curious because the dream was forgotten till the\ncorresponding event occurred, but there was a slight discrepancy\nbetween event and dream.\n\nTHE MIGNONETTE\n\nMrs. Herbert returned with her husband from London to their country\nhome on the Border.  They arrived rather late in the day, prepared to\nvisit the garden, and decided to put off the visit till the morrow.\nAt night Mrs. Herbert dreamed that they went into the garden, down a\nlong walk to a mignonette bed near the vinery.  The mignonette was\nblack with innumerable bees, and Wilburd, the gardener, came up and\nadvised Mr. and Mrs. Herbert not to go nearer.  Next morning the pair\nwent to the garden.  The air round the mignonette was dark with\n_wasps_.  Mrs. Herbert now first remembered and told her dream,\nadding, \"but in the dream they were _bees_\".  Wilburd now came up and\nadvised them not to go nearer, as a wasps' nest had been injured and\nthe wasps were on the warpath.\n\nHere accidental coincidence is probable enough. {10}  There is another\nclass of dreams very useful, and apparently not so very uncommon, that\nare veracious and communicate correct information, which the dreamer\ndid not know that he knew and was very anxious to know.  These are\nrare enough to be rather difficult to believe.  Thus:--\n\nTHE LOST CHEQUE\n\nMr. A., a barrister, sat up one night to write letters, and about\nhalf-past twelve went out to put them in the post.  On undressing he\nmissed a cheque for a large sum, which he had received during the day.\nHe hunted everywhere in vain, went to bed, slept, and dreamed that he\nsaw the cheque curled round an area railing not far from his own door.\nHe woke, got up, dressed, walked down the street and found his cheque\nin the place he had dreamed of.  In his opinion he had noticed it fall\nfrom his pocket as he walked to the letter-box, without consciously\nremarking it, and his deeper memory awoke in slumber. {11a}\n\nTHE DUCKS' EGGS\n\nA little girl of the author's family kept ducks and was anxious to\nsell the eggs to her mother.  But the eggs could not be found by eager\nsearch.  On going to bed she said, \"Perhaps I shall dream of them\".\nNext morning she exclaimed, \"I _did_ dream of them, they are in a\nplace between grey rock, broom, and mallow; that must be 'The Poney's\nField'!\"  And there the eggs were found. {11b}\n\nTHE LOST KEY\n\nLady X., after walking in a wood near her house in Ireland, found that\nshe had lost an important key.  She dreamed that it was lying at the\nroot of a certain tree, where she found it next day, and her theory is\nthe same as that of Mr. A., the owner of the lost cheque. {11c}\n\nAs a rule dreams throw everything into a dramatic form.  Some one\nknocks at our door, and the dream bases a little drama on the noise;\nit constructs an explanatory myth, a myth to account for the noise,\nwhich is acted out in the theatre of the brain.\n\nTo take an instance, a disappointing one:--\n\nTHE LOST SECURITIES\n\nA lady dreamed that she was sitting at a window, watching the end of\nan autumn sunset.  There came a knock at the front door and a\ngentleman and lady were ushered in.  The gentleman wore an old-\nfashioned snuff-coloured suit, of the beginning of the century; he\nwas, in fact, an aged uncle, who, during the Napoleonic wars, had been\none of the English detenus in France.  The lady was very beautiful and\nwore something like a black Spanish mantilla.  The pair carried with\nthem a curiously wrought steel box.  Before conversation was begun,\nthe maid (still in the dream) brought in the lady's chocolate and the\nfigures vanished.  When the maid withdrew, the figures reappeared\nstanding by the table.  The box was now open, and the old gentleman\ndrew forth some yellow papers, written on in faded ink.  These, he\nsaid, were lists of securities, which had been in his possession, when\nhe went abroad in 18--, and in France became engaged to his beautiful\ncompanion.\n\n\"The securities,\" he said, \"are now in the strong box of Messrs. ---;\"\nanother rap at the door, and the actual maid entered with real hot\nwater.  It was time to get up.  The whole dream had its origin in the\nfirst rap, heard by the dreamer and dramatised into the arrival of\nvisitors.  Probably it did not last for more than two or three seconds\nof real time.  The maid's second knock just prevented the revelation\nof the name of \"Messrs. ---,\" who, like the lady in the mantilla, were\nprobably non-existent people. {13}\n\nThus dream dramatises on the impulse of some faint, hardly perceived\nreal sensation.  And thus either mere empty fancies (as in the case of\nthe lost securities) or actual knowledge which we may have once\npossessed but have totally forgotten, or conclusions which have passed\nthrough our brains as unheeded guesses, may in a dream be, as it were,\n\"revealed\" through the lips of a character in the brain's theatre--\nthat character may, in fact, be alive, or dead, or merely fantastical.\nA very good case is given with this explanation (lost knowledge\nrevived in a dramatic dream about a dead man) by Sir Walter Scott in a\nnote to The Antiquary.  Familiar as the story is it may be offered\nhere, for a reason which will presently be obvious.\n\nTHE ARREARS OF TEIND\n\n\"Mr. Rutherford, of Bowland, a gentleman of landed property in the\nVale of Gala, was prosecuted for a very considerable sum, the\naccumulated arrears of teind (or tithe) for which he was said to be\nindebted to a noble family, the titulars (lay impropriators of the\ntithes).  Mr. Rutherford was strongly impressed with the belief that\nhis father had, by a form of process peculiar to the law of Scotland,\npurchased these teinds from the titular, and, therefore, that the\npresent prosecution was groundless.  But, after an industrious search\namong his father's papers, an investigation among the public records\nand a careful inquiry among all persons who had transacted law\nbusiness for his father, no evidence could be recovered to support his\ndefence.  The period was now near at hand, when he conceived the loss\nof his law-suit to be inevitable; and he had formed the determination\nto ride to Edinburgh next day and make the best bargain he could in\nthe way of compromise.  He went to bed with this resolution, and, with\nall the circumstances of the case floating upon his mind, had a dream\nto the following purpose.  His father, who had been many years dead,\nappeared to him, he thought, and asked him why he was disturbed in his\nmind.  In dreams men are not surprised at such apparitions.  Mr.\nRutherford thought that he informed his father of the cause of his\ndistress, adding that the payment of a considerable sum of money was\nthe more unpleasant to him because he had a strong consciousness that\nit was not due, though he was unable to recover any evidence in\nsupport of his belief.  'You are right, my son,' replied the paternal\nshade.  'I did acquire right to these teinds for payment of which you\nare now prosecuted.  The papers relating to the transaction are in the\nhands of Mr. ---, a writer (or attorney), who is now retired from\nprofessional business and resides at Inveresk, near Edinburgh.  He was\na person whom I employed on that occasion for a particular reason, but\nwho never on any other occasion transacted business on my account.  It\nis very possible,' pursued the vision, 'that Mr. --- may have\nforgotten a matter which is now of a very old date; but you may call\nit to his recollection by this token, that when I came to pay his\naccount there was difficulty in getting change for a Portugal piece of\ngold and we were forced to drink out the balance at a tavern.'\n\n\"Mr. Rutherford awoke in the morning with all the words of the vision\nimprinted on his mind, and thought it worth while to walk across the\ncountry to Inveresk instead of going straight to Edinburgh.  When he\ncame there he waited on the gentleman mentioned in the dream--a very\nold man.  Without saying anything of the vision he inquired whether he\never remembered having conducted such a matter for his deceased\nfather.  The old gentleman could not at first bring the circumstance\nto his recollection, but on mention of the Portugal piece of gold the\nwhole returned upon his memory.  He made an immediate search for the\npapers and recovered them, so that Mr. Rutherford carried to Edinburgh\nthe documents necessary to gain the cause which he was on the verge of\nlosing.\"\n\nThe story is reproduced because it is clearly one of the tales which\ncome round in cycles, either because events repeat themselves or\nbecause people will unconsciously localise old legends in new places\nand assign old occurrences or fables to new persons.  Thus every one\nhas heard how Lord Westbury called a certain man in the Herald's\noffice \"a foolish old fellow who did not even know his own foolish old\nbusiness\".  Lord Westbury may very well have said this, but long\nbefore his time the remark was attributed to the famous Lord\nChesterfield.  Lord Westbury may have quoted it from Chesterfield or\nhit on it by accident, or the old story may have been assigned to him.\nIn the same way Mr. Rutherford may have had his dream or the following\ntale of St. Augustine's (also cited by Scott) may have been attributed\nto him, with the picturesque addition about the piece of Portuguese\ngold.  Except for the piece of Portuguese gold St. Augustine\npractically tells the anecdote in his De Cura pro Mortuis Habenda,\nadding the acute reflection which follows. {16}\n\n\"Of a surety, when we were at Milan, we heard tell of a certain person\nof whom was demanded payment of a debt, with production of his\ndeceased father's acknowledgment, which debt, unknown to the son, the\nfather had paid, whereupon the man began to be very sorrowful, and to\nmarvel that his father while dying did not tell him what he owed when\nhe also made his will.  Then in this exceeding anxiousness of his, his\nsaid father appeared to him in a dream, and made known to him where\nwas the counter acknowledgment by which that acknowledgment was\ncancelled.  Which when the young man had found and showed, he not only\nrebutted the wrongful claim of a false debt, but also got back his\nfather's note of hand, which the father had not got back when the\nmoney was paid.\n\n\"Here then the soul of a man is supposed to have had care for his son,\nand to have come to him in his sleep, that, teaching him what he did\nnot know, he might relieve him of a great trouble.  But about the very\nsame time as we heard this, it chanced at Carthage that the\nrhetorician Eulogius, who had been my disciple in that art, being (as\nhe himself, after our return to Africa, told us the story) in course\nof lecturing to his disciples on Cicero's rhetorical books, as he\nlooked over the portion of reading which he was to deliver on the\nfollowing day, fell upon a certain passage, and not being able to\nunderstand it, was scarce able to sleep for the trouble of his mind:\nin which night, as he dreamed, I expounded to him that which he did\nnot understand; nay, not I, but my likeness, while I was unconscious\nof the thing and far away beyond sea, it might be doing, or it might\nbe dreaming, some other thing, and not in the least caring for his\ncares.  In what way these things come about I know not; but in what\nway soever they come, why do we not believe it comes in the same way\nfor a person in a dream to see a dead man, as it comes that he sees a\nliving man? both, no doubt, neither knowing nor caring who dreams of\ntheir images, or where or when.\n\n\"Like dreams, moreover, are some visions of persons awake, who have\nhad their senses troubled, such as phrenetic persons, or those who are\nmad in any way, for they, too, talk to themselves just as though they\nwere speaking to people verily present, and as well with absent men as\nwith present, whose images they perceive whether persons living or\ndead.  But just as they who live are unconscious that they are seen of\nthem and talk with them (for indeed they are not really themselves\npresent, or themselves make speeches, but through troubled senses\nthese persons are wrought upon by such like imaginary visions), just\nso they also who have departed this life, to persons thus affected\nappear as present while they be absent, and are themselves utterly\nunconscious whether any man sees them in regard of their image.\" {18}\n\nSt. Augustine adds a similar story of a trance.\n\nTHE TWO CURMAS\n\nA rustic named Curma, of Tullium, near Hippo, Augustine's town, fell\ninto a catalepsy.  On reviving he said:  \"Run to the house of Curma\nthe smith and see what is going on\".  Curma the smith was found to\nhave died just when the other Curma awoke.  \"I knew it,\" said the\ninvalid, \"for I heard it said in that place whence I have returned\nthat not I, Curma of the Curia, but Curma the smith, was wanted.\"  But\nCurma of the Curia saw living as well as dead people, among others\nAugustine, who, in his vision, baptised him at Hippo.  Curma then, in\nthe vision, went to Paradise, where he was told to go and be baptised.\nHe said it had been done already, and was answered, \"Go and be truly\nbaptised, for _that_ thou didst but see in vision\".  So Augustine\nchristened him, and later, hearing of the trance, asked him about it,\nwhen he repeated the tale already familiar to his neighbours.\nAugustine thinks it a mere dream, and apparently regards the death of\nCurma the smith as a casual coincidence.  Un esprit fort, le Saint\nAugustin!\n\n\"If the dead could come in dreams,\" he says, \"my pious mother would no\nnight fail to visit me.  Far be the thought that she should, by a\nhappier life, have been made so cruel that, when aught vexes my heart,\nshe should not even console in a dream the son whom she loved with an\nonly love.\"\n\nNot only things once probably known, yet forgotten, but knowledge\nnever _consciously_ thought out, may be revealed in a dramatic dream,\napparently through the lips of the dead or the never existent.  The\nbooks of psychology are rich in examples of problems worked out, or\nmusic or poetry composed in sleep.  The following is a more recent and\nvery striking example:--\n\nTHE ASSYRIAN PRIEST\n\nHerr H. V. Hilprecht is Professor of Assyriology in the University of\nPennsylvania.  That university had despatched an expedition to explore\nthe ruins of Babylon, and sketches of the objects discovered had been\nsent home.  Among these were drawings of two small fragments of agate,\ninscribed with characters.  One Saturday night in March, 1893,\nProfessor Hilprecht had wearied himself with puzzling over these two\nfragments, which were supposed to be broken pieces of finger-rings.\nHe was inclined, from the nature of the characters, to date them about\n1700-1140 B.C.; and as the first character of the third line of the\nfirst fragment seemed to read KU, he guessed that it might stand for\nKurigalzu, a king of that name.\n\nAbout midnight the professor went, weary and perplexed, to bed.\n\n\"Then I dreamed the following remarkable dream.  A tall thin priest of\nthe old pre-Christian Nippur, about forty years of age, and clad in a\nsimple abba, led me to the treasure-chamber of the temple, on its\nsouth-east side.  He went with me into a small low-ceiled room without\nwindows, in which there was a large wooden chest, while scraps of\nagate and lapis lazuli lay scattered on the floor.  Here he addressed\nme as follows:--\n\n\"'The two fragments, which you have published separately upon pages 22\nand 26, _belong together_'\" (this amazing Assyrian priest spoke\nAmerican!). {20}  \"'They are not finger-rings, and their history is as\nfollows:--\n\n\"'King Kurigalzu (about 1300 B.C.) once sent to the temple of Bel,\namong other articles of agate and lapis lazuli, an inscribed votive\ncylinder of agate.  Then the priests suddenly received the command to\nmake for the statue of the god Nibib a pair of ear-rings of agate.  We\nwere in great dismay, since there was no agate as raw material at\nhand.  In order to execute the command there was nothing for us to do\nbut cut the votive cylinder in three parts, thus making three rings,\neach of which contained a portion of the original inscription.  The\nfirst two rings served as ear-rings for the statue of the god; the two\nfragments which have given you so much trouble are parts of them.  If\nyou will put the two together, you will have confirmation of my words.\nBut the third ring you have not found yet, and you never will find\nit.'\"\n\nThe professor awoke, bounded out of bed, as Mrs. Hilprecht testifies,\nand was heard crying from his study, \"It is so, it is so!\"  Mrs.\nHilprecht followed her lord, \"and satisfied myself in the midnight\nhour as to the outcome of his most interesting dream\".\n\nThe professor, however, says that he awoke, told his wife the dream,\nand verified it next day.  Both statements are correct.  There were\ntwo sets of drawings, one in the study (used that night) one used next\nday in the University Library.\n\nThe inscription ran thus, the missing fragment being restored, \"by\nanalogy from many similar inscriptions\":--\n\nTO THE GOD NIBIB, CHILD\nOF THE GOD BEL,\nHIS LORD\nKURIGALZU,\nPONTIFEX OF THE GOD BEL\nHAS PRESENTED IT.\n\nBut, in the drawings, the fragments were of different colours, so that\na student working on the drawings would not guess them to be parts of\none cylinder.  Professor Hilprecht, however, examined the two actual\nfragments in the Imperial Museum at Constantinople.  They lay in two\ndistinct cases, but, when put together, fitted.  When cut asunder of\nold, in Babylon, the white vein of the stone showed on one fragment,\nthe grey surface on the other.\n\nProfessor Romaine Newbold, who publishes this dream, explains that the\nprofessor had unconsciously reasoned out his facts, the difference of\ncolour in the two pieces of agate disappearing in the dream.  The\nprofessor had heard from Dr. Peters of the expedition, that a room had\nbeen discovered with fragments of a wooden box and chips of agate and\nlapis lazuli.  The sleeping mind \"combined its information,\" reasoned\nrightly from it, and threw its own conclusions into a dramatic form,\nreceiving the information from the lips of a priest of Nippur.\n\nProbably we do a good deal of reasoning in sleep.  Professor\nHilprecht, in 1882-83, was working at a translation of an inscription\nwherein came Nabu--Kudurru--usur, rendered by Professor Delitzsch\n\"Nebo protect my mortar-board\".  Professor Hilprecht accepted this,\nbut woke one morning with his mind full of the thought that the words\nshould be rendered \"Nebo protect my boundary,\" which \"sounds a deal\nlikelier,\" and is now accepted.  I myself, when working at the MSS. of\nthe exiled Stuarts, was puzzled by the scorched appearance of the\npaper on which Prince Charlie's and the king's letters were often\nwritten and by the peculiarities of the ink.  I woke one morning with\na sudden flash of common-sense.  Sympathetic ink had been used, and\nthe papers had been toasted or treated with acids.  This I had\nprobably reasoned out in sleep, and, had I dreamed, my mind might have\ndramatised the idea.  Old Mr. Edgar, the king's secretary, might have\nappeared and given me the explanation.  Maury publishes tales in which\na forgotten fact was revealed to him in a dream from the lips of a\ndream-character (Le Sommeil et les Reves, pp. 142-143.  The curious\nmay also consult, on all these things, The Philosophy of Mysticism, by\nKarl du Prel, translated by Mr. Massey.  The Assyrian Priest is in\nProceedings, S.P.R., vol. xii., p. 14).\n\nOn the same plane as the dreams which we have been examining is the\nwaking sensation of the deja vu.\n\n\"I have been here before,\nBut when or how I cannot tell.\"\n\nMost of us know this feeling, all the circumstances in which we find\nourselves have already occurred, we have a prophecy of what will\nhappen next \"on the tip of our tongues\" (like a half-remembered name),\nand then the impression vanishes.  Scott complains of suffering\nthrough a whole dinner-party from this sensation, but he had written\n\"copy\" for fifty printed pages on that day, and his brain was breaking\ndown.  Of course psychology has explanations.  The scene _may_ have\nreally occurred before, or may be the result of a malady of\nperception, or one hemisphere of the brain not working in absolute\nsimultaneousness with the other may produce a double impression, the\nfirst being followed by the second, so that we really have had two\nsuccessive impressions, of which one seems much more remote in time\nthan it really was.  Or we may have dreamed something like the scene\nand forgotten the dream, or we may actually, in some not understood\nmanner, have had a \"prevision\" of what is now actual, as when Shelley\nalmost fainted on coming to a place near Oxford which he had beheld in\na dream.\n\nOf course, if this \"prevision\" could be verified in detail, we should\ncome very near to dreams of the future fulfilled.  Such a thing--\nverification of a detail--led to the conversion of William Hone, the\nfree-thinker and Radical of the early century, who consequently became\na Christian and a pessimistic, clear-sighted Tory.  This tale of the\ndeja vu, therefore, leads up to the marvellous narratives of dreams\nsimultaneous with, or prophetic of, events not capable of being\nguessed or inferred, or of events lost in the historical past, but,\nlater, recovered from documents.\n\nOf Hone's affair there are two versions.  Both may be given, as they\nare short.  If they illustrate the deja vu, they also illustrate the\nfond discrepancies of all such narratives. {24}\n\nTHE KNOT IN THE SHUTTER\n\n\"It is said that a dream produced a powerful effect on Hone's mind.\nHe dreamt that he was introduced into a room where he was an entire\nstranger, and saw himself seated at a table, and on going towards the\nwindow his attention was somehow or other attracted to the window-\nshutter, and particularly to a knot in the wood, which was of singular\nappearance; and on waking the whole scene, and especially the knot in\nthe shutter, left a most vivid impression on his mind.  Some time\nafterwards, on going, I think, into the country, he was at some house\nshown into a chamber where he had never been before, and which\ninstantly struck him as being the identical chamber of his dream.  He\nturned directly to the window, where the same knot in the shutter\ncaught his eye.  This incident, to his investigating spirit, induced a\ntrain of reflection which overthrew his cherished theories of\nmaterialism, and resulted in conviction that there were spiritual\nagencies as susceptible of proof as any facts of physical science; and\nthis appears to have been one of the links in that mysterious chain of\nevents by which, according to the inscrutable purposes of the Divine\nwill, man is sometimes compelled to bow to an unseen and divine power,\nand ultimately to believe and live.\"\n\n\"Another of the Christian friends from whom, in his later years,\nWilliam Hone received so much kindness, has also furnished\nrecollections of him.\n\n\" . . . Two or three anecdotes which he related are all I can\ncontribute towards a piece of mental history which, if preserved,\nwould have been highly interesting.  The first in point of time as to\nhis taste of mind, was a circumstance which shook his confidence in\n_materialism_, though it did not lead to his conversion.  It was one\nof those mental phenomena which he saw to be _inexplicable_ by the\ndoctrines he then held.\n\n\"It was as follows:  He was called in the course of business into a\npart of London quite new to him, and as he walked along the street he\nnoticed to himself that he had never been there; but on being shown\ninto a room in a house where he had to wait some time, he immediately\nfancied that it was all familiar, that he had seen it before, 'and if\nso,' said he to himself, 'there is a very peculiar knot in this\nshutter'.  He opened the shutter and found the knot.  'Now then,'\nthought he, 'here is something I cannot explain on my principles!'\"\n\nIndeed the occurrence is not very explicable on any principles, as a\ndetail not visible without search was sought and verified, and that by\na habitual mocker at anything out of the common way.  For example,\nHone published a comic explanation, correct or not, of the famous\nStockwell mystery.\n\nSupposing Hone's story to be true, it naturally conducts us to yet\nmore unfamiliar, and therefore less credible dreams, in which the\nunknown past, present, or future is correctly revealed.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\n\nVeracious Dreams.  Past, Present and Future unknown Events \"revealed\".\nTheory of \"Mental Telegraphy\" or \"Telepathy\" fails to meet Dreams of\nthe unknowable Future.  Dreams of unrecorded Past, how alone they can\nbe corroborated.  Queen Mary's Jewels.  Story from Brierre de\nBoismont.  Mr. Williams's Dream before Mr. Perceval's Murder.\nDiscrepancies of Evidence.  Curious Story of Bude Kirk.  Mr.\nWilliams's Version.  Dream of a Rattlesnake.  Discrepancies.  Dream of\nthe Red Lamp.  \"Illusions Hypnagogiques.\"  The Scar in the Moustache.\nDream of the Future.  The Coral Sprigs.  Anglo-Saxon Indifference.  A\nCeltic Dream.  The Satin Slippers.  Waking Dreams.  The Dead Shopman.\nDreams in Swoons.\n\nPerhaps nothing, not even a ghost, is so staggering to the powers of\nbelief as a well-authenticated dream which strikes the bull's eye of\nfacts not known to the dreamer nor capable of being guessed by him.\nIf the events beheld in the dream are far away in space, or are remote\nin time past, the puzzle is difficult enough.  But if the events are\nstill in the future, perhaps no kind of explanation except a mere\n\"fluke\" can even be suggested.  Say that I dream of an event occurring\nat a distance, and that I record or act on my dream before it is\ncorroborated.  Suppose, too, that the event is not one which could be\nguessed, like the death of an invalid or the result of a race or of an\nelection.  This would be odd enough, but the facts of which I dreamed\nmust have been present in the minds of living people.  Now, if there\nis such a thing as \"mental telegraphy\" or \"telepathy,\" {28} my mind,\nin dream, may have \"tapped\" the minds of the people who knew the\nfacts.  We may not believe in \"mental telegraphy,\" but we can\n_imagine_ it as one of the unknown possibilities of nature.  Again, if\nI dream of an unchronicled event in the past, and if a letter of some\nhistorical person is later discovered which confirms the accuracy of\nmy dream, we can at least _conceive_ (though we need not believe) that\nthe intelligence was telegraphed to my dreaming mind from the mind of\na _dead_ actor in, or witness of the historical scene, for the facts\nare unknown to living man.  But even these wild guesses cannot cover a\ndream which correctly reveals events of the future; events necessarily\nnot known to any finite mind of the living or of the dead, and too\nfull of detail for an explanation by aid of chance coincidence.\n\nIn face of these difficulties mankind has gone on believing in dreams\nof all three classes:  dreams revealing the unknown present, the\nunknown past, and the unknown future.  The judicious reasonably set\nthem all aside as the results of fortuitous coincidence, or revived\nrecollection, or of the illusions of a false memory, or of imposture,\nconscious or unconscious.  However, the stories continue to be told,\nand our business is with the stories.\n\nTaking, first, dreams of the unknown past, we find a large modern\ncollection of these attributed to a lady named \"Miss A---\".  They were\nwaking dreams representing obscure incidents of the past, and were\nlater corroborated by records in books, newspapers and manuscripts.\nBut as these books and papers existed, and were known to exist, before\nthe occurrence of the visions, it is obvious that the matter of the\nvisions _may_ have been derived from the books and so forth, or at\nleast, a sceptic will vastly prefer this explanation.  What we need is\na dream or vision of the unknown past, corroborated by a document _not\nknown to exist_ at the time when the vision took place and was\nrecorded.  Probably there is no such instance, but the following tale,\npicturesque in itself, has a kind of shadow of the only satisfactory\nsort of corroboration.\n\nThe author responsible for this yarn is Dr. Gregory, F.R.S., Professor\nof Chemistry in the University of Edinburgh.  After studying for many\nyears the real or alleged phenomena of what has been called mesmerism,\nor electro-biology, or hypnotism, Dr. Gregory published in 1851 his\nLetters to a Candid Inquirer on Animal Magnetism.\n\nThough a F.R.S. and a Professor of Chemistry, the Doctor had no more\nidea of what constitutes evidence than a baby.  He actually mixed up\nthe Tyrone with the Lyttelton ghost story!  His legend of Queen Mary's\njewels is derived from (1) the note-book, _or_ (2) a letter\ncontaining, or professing to contain, extracts from the note-book, of\na Major Buckley, an Anglo-Indian officer.  This gentleman used to\n\"magnetise\" or hypnotise people, some of whom became clairvoyant, as\nif possessed of eyes acting as \"double-patent-million magnifiers,\"\npermeated by X rays.\n\n\"What follows is transcribed,\" says the Doctor, \"from Major Buckley's\nnote-book.\"  We abridge the narrative.  Major Buckley hypnotised a\nyoung officer, who, on November 15, 1845, fell into \"a deeper state\"\nof trance.  Thence he awoke into a \"clairvoyant\" condition and said:--\n\nQUEEN MARY'S JEWELS\n\n\"I have had a strange dream about your ring\" (a \"medallion\" of Anthony\nand Cleopatra); \"it is very valuable.\"\n\nMajor Buckley said it was worth 60 pounds, and put the ring into his\nfriend's hand.\n\n\"It belonged to royalty.\"\n\n\"In what country?\"\n\n\"I see Mary, Queen of Scots.  It was given to her by a man, a\nforeigner, with other things from Italy.  It came from Naples.  It is\nnot in the old setting.  She wore it only once.  The person who gave\nit to her was a musician.\"\n\nThe seer then \"saw\" the donor's signature, \"Rizzio\".  But Rizzio\nspelled his name Riccio!  The seer now copied on paper a writing which\nin his trance he saw on vellum.  The design here engraved (p. 32) is\nonly from a rough copy of the seer's original drawing, which was made\nby Major Buckley.\n\n[Picture of vellum as described in the text - images/rizzo.gif]\n\n\"Here\" (pointing to the middle) \"I see a diamond cross.\"   The\nsmallest stone was above the size of one of four carats.  \"It\" (the\ncross) \"was worn out of sight by Mary.  The vellum has been shown in\nthe House of Lords.\" {31}\n\n\" . . . The ring was taken off Mary's finger by a man in anger and\njealousy:  he threw it into the water.  When he took it off, she was\nbeing carried in a kind of bed with curtains\" (a litter).\n\nJust before Rizzio's murder Mary was enceinte, and might well be\ncarried in a litter, though she usually rode.\n\nThe seer then had a view of Sizzle's murder, which he had probably\nread about.\n\nThree weeks later, in another trance, the seer finished his design of\nthe vellum.  The words\n\nA\nM\nDE LA PART\n\nprobably stand for a Marie, de la part de--\n\nThe thistle heads and leaves in gold at the corners were a usual\ndecoration of the period; compare the ceiling of the room in Edinburgh\nCastle where James VI. was born, four months after Rizzio's murder.\nThey also occur in documents.  Dr. Gregory conjectures that so\nvaluable a present as a diamond cross may have been made not by\nRizzio, but through Rizzio by the Pope.\n\nIt did not seem good to the doctor to consult Mary's lists of jewels,\nnor, if he had done so, would he have been any the wiser.  In 1566,\njust before the birth of James VI., Mary had an inventory drawn up,\nand added the names of the persons to whom she bequeathed her\ntreasures in case she died in child-bed.  But this inventory, hidden\namong a mass of law-papers in the Record Office, was not discovered\ntill 1854, nine years after the vision of 1845, and three after its\npublication by Dr. Gregory in 1851.  Not till 1863 was the inventory\nof 1566, discovered in 1854, published for the Bannatyne Club by Dr.\nJoseph Robertson.\n\nTurning to the inventory we read of a valuable present made by David\nRizzio to Mary, a tortoise of rubies, which she kept till her death,\nfor it appears in a list made after her execution at Fotheringay.  The\nmurdered David Rizzio left a brother Joseph.  Him the queen made her\nsecretary, and in her will of 1566 mentions him thus:--\n\n\"A Josef, pour porter a celui qui je luy ay dit, une emeraude emaille\nde blanc.\n\n\"A Josef, pour porter a celui qui je luy ai dit, dont il ranvoir\nquittance.\n\n\"Une bague garnye de vingt cinq diamens tant grands que petis.\"\n\nNow the diamond cross seen by the young officer in 1845 was set with\ndiamonds great and small, and was, in his opinion, a gift from or\nthrough Rizzio.  \"The queen wore it out of sight.\"  Here in the\ninventory we have a bague (which may be a cross) of diamonds small and\ngreat, connected with a secret only known to Rizzio's brother and to\nthe queen.  It is \"to be carried to one whose name the queen has\nspoken in her new secretary's ear\" (Joseph's), \"but dare not trust\nherself to write\".  \"It would be idle now to seek to pry into the\nmystery which was thus anxiously guarded,\" says Dr. Robertson, editor\nof the queen's inventories.  The doctor knew nothing of the vision\nwhich, perhaps, so nearly pried into the mystery.  There is nothing\nlike proof here, but there is just a presumption that the diamonds\nconnected with Rizzio, and secretly worn by the queen, seen in the\nvision of 1845, are possibly the diamonds which, had Mary died in\n1566, were to be carried by Joseph Rizzio to a person whose name might\nnot safely be written. {35a}\n\nWe now take a dream which apparently reveals a real fact occurring at\na distance.  It is translated from Brierre de Boismont's book, Des\nHallucinations {35b} (Paris, 1845).  \"There are,\" says the learned\nauthor, \"authentic dreams which have revealed an event occurring at\nthe moment, or later.\"  These he explains by accidental coincidence,\nand then gives the following anecdote, as within his own intimate\nknowledge:--\n\nTHE DEATHBED\n\nMiss C., a lady of excellent sense, religious but not bigoted, lived\nbefore her marriage in the house of her uncle D., a celebrated\nphysician, and member of the Institute.  Her mother at this time was\nseriously ill in the country.  One night the girl dreamed that she saw\nher mother, pale and dying, and especially grieved at the absence of\ntwo of her children:  one a cure in Spain, the other--herself--in\nParis.  Next she heard her own Christian name called, \"Charlotte!\"\nand, in her dream, saw the people about her mother bring in her own\nlittle niece and god-child Charlotte from the next room.  The patient\nintimated by a sign that she did not want _this_ Charlotte, but her\ndaughter in Paris.  She displayed the deepest regret; her countenance\nchanged, she fell back, and died.\n\nNext day the melancholy of Mademoiselle C. attracted the attention of\nher uncle.  She told him her dream; he pressed her to his heart, and\nadmitted that her mother was dead.\n\nSome months later Mademoiselle C., when her uncle was absent, arranged\nhis papers, which he did not like any one to touch.  Among these was a\nletter containing the story of her mother's death, with all the\ndetails of her own dream, which D. had kept concealed lest they should\nimpress her too painfully.\n\nBoismont is staggered by this circumstance, and inclined to account\nfor it by \"still unknown relations in the moral and physical world\".\n\"Mental telegraphy,\" of course, would explain all, and even chance\ncoincidence is perfectly conceivable.\n\nThe most commonly known of dreams prior to, or simultaneous with an\nhistorical occurrence represented in the vision, is Mr. Williams's\ndream of the murder of Mr. Perceval in the lobby of the House of\nCommons, May 11, 1812.  Mr. Williams, of Scorrier House, near Redruth,\nin Cornwall, lived till 1841.  He was interested in mines, and a man\nof substance.  Unluckily the versions of his dream are full of\ndiscrepancies.  It was first published, apparently, in The Times\nduring the \"silly season\" of 1828 (August 28).  According to The\nTimes, whose account is very minute, Mr. Williams dreamed of the\nmurder thrice before 2 a.m. on the night of May 11.  He told Mrs.\nWilliams, and was so disturbed that he rose and dressed at two in the\nmorning.  He went to Falmouth next day (May 12), and told the tale to\nevery one he knew.  On the evening of the 13th he told it to Mr. and\nMrs. Tucker (his married daughter) of Tremanton Castle.  Mr. Williams\nonly knew that the _chancellor_ was shot; Mr. Tucker said it must be\nthe Chancellor of the Exchequer.  From the description he recognised\nMr. Perceval, with whom he was at enmity.  Mr. Williams had never been\ninside the House of Commons.  As they talked, Mr. William's son\ngalloped up from Truro with news of the murder, got from a traveller\nby coach.  Six weeks later, Mr. Williams went to town, and in the\nHouse of Commons walked up to and recognised the scene of the various\nincidents in the murder.\n\nSo far The Times, in 1828.  But two forms of a version of 1832 exist,\none in a note to Mr. Walpole's Life of Perceval (1874), \"an attested\nstatement, drawn up and signed by Mr. Williams in the presence of the\nRev. Thomas Fisher and Mr. Charles Prideaux Brune\".  Mr. Brune gave it\nto Mr. Walpole.  With only verbal differences this variant corresponds\nto another signed by Mr. Williams and given by him to his grandson,\nwho gave it to Mr. Perceval's great-niece, by whom it was lent to the\nSociety for Psychical Research.\n\nThese accounts differ toto coelo from that in The Times of 1828.  The\ndream is _not_ of May 11, but \"about\" May 2 or 3.  Mr. Williams is\n_not_ a stranger to the House of Commons; it is \"a place well known to\nme\".  He is _not_ ignorant of the name of the victim, but \"understood\nthat it was Mr. Perceval\".  He thinks of going to town to give\nwarning.  We hear nothing of Mr. Tucker.  Mr. Williams does _not_\nverify his dream in the House, but from a drawing.  A Mr. C. R. Fox,\nson of one to whom the dream was told _before_ the event, was then a\nboy of fourteen, and sixty-one years later was sure that he himself\nheard of Mr. Williams's dream _before_ the news of the murder arrived.\nAfter sixty years, however, the memory cannot be relied upon.\n\nOne very curious circumstance in connection with the assassination of\nMr. Perceval has never been noticed.  A rumour or report of the deed\nreached Bude Kirk, a village near Annan, on the night of Sunday, May\n10, a day before the crime was committed!  This was stated in the\nDumfries and Galloway Courier, and copied in The Times of May 25.  On\nMay 28, the Perth Courier quotes the Dumfries paper, and adds that\n\"the Rev. Mr. Yorstoun, minister of Hoddam (ob. 1833), has visited\nBude Kirk and has obtained the most satisfactory proof of the rumour\nhaving existed\" on May 10, but the rumour cannot be traced to its\nsource.  Mr. Yorstoun authorises the mention of his name.  The Times\nof June 2 says that \"the report is without foundation\".  If Williams\ntalked everywhere of his dream, on May 3, some garbled shape of it may\nconceivably have floated to Bude Kirk by May 10, and originated the\nrumour.  Whoever started it would keep quiet when the real news\narrived for fear of being implicated in a conspiracy as accessory\nbefore the fact.  No trace of Mr. Williams's dream occurs in the\ncontemporary London papers.\n\nThe best version of the dream to follow is probably that signed by Mr.\nWilliams himself in 1832. {39a}\n\nIt may, of course, be argued by people who accept Mr. Williams's dream\nas a revelation of the future that it reached his mind from the\n_purpose_ conceived in Bellingham's mind, by way of \"mental\ntelegraphy\". {39b}\n\nDREAM OF MR.  PERCEVAL'S MURDER\n\n\"SUNDHILL, December, 1832.\n\n\"[Some account of a dream which occurred to John Williams, Esq., of\nScorrier House, in the county of Cornwall, in the year 1812.  Taken\nfrom his own mouth, and narrated by him at various times to several of\nhis friends.]\n\n\"Being desired to write out the particulars of a remarkable dream\nwhich I had in the year 1812, before I do so I think it may be proper\nfor me to say that at that time my attention was fully occupied with\naffairs of my own--the superintendence of some very extensive mines in\nCornwall being entrusted to me.  Thus I had no leisure to pay any\nattention to political matters, and hardly knew at that time who\nformed the administration of the country.  It was, therefore, scarcely\npossible that my own interest in the subject should have had any share\nin suggesting the circumstances which presented themselves to my\nimagination.  It was, in truth, a subject which never occurred to my\nwaking thoughts.\n\n\"My dream was as follows:--\n\n\"About the second or third day of May, 1812, I dreamed that I was in\nthe lobby of the House of Commons (a place well known to me).  A small\nman, dressed in a blue coat and a white waistcoat, entered, and\nimmediately I saw a person whom I had observed on my first entrance,\ndressed in a snuff-coloured coat with metal buttons, take a pistol\nfrom under his coat and present it at the little man above-mentioned.\nThe pistol was discharged, and the ball entered under the left breast\nof the person at whom it was directed.  I saw the blood issue from the\nplace where the ball had struck him, his countenance instantly\naltered, and he fell to the ground.  Upon inquiry who the sufferer\nmight be, I was informed that he was the chancellor.  I understood him\nto be Mr. Perceval, who was Chancellor of the Exchequer.  I further\nsaw the murderer laid hold of by several of the gentlemen in the room.\nUpon waking I told the particulars above related to my wife; she\ntreated the matter lightly, and desired me to go to sleep, saying it\nwas only a dream.  I soon fell asleep again, and again the dream\npresented itself with precisely the same circumstances.  After waking\na second time and stating the matter again to my wife, she only\nrepeated her request that I would compose myself and dismiss the\nsubject from my mind.  Upon my falling asleep the third time, the same\ndream without any alteration was repeated, and I awoke, as on the\nformer occasions, in great agitation.  So much alarmed and impressed\nwas I with the circumstances above related, that I felt much doubt\nwhether it was not my duty to take a journey to London and communicate\nupon the subject with the party principally concerned.  Upon this\npoint I consulted with some friends whom I met on business at the\nGodolphin mine on the following day.  After having stated to them the\nparticulars of the dream itself and what were my own feelings in\nrelation to it, they dissuaded me from my purpose, saying I might\nexpose myself to contempt and vexation, or be taken up as a fanatic.\nUpon this I said no more, but anxiously watched the newspapers every\nevening as the post arrived.\n\n\"On the evening of the 13th of May (as far as I recollect) no account\nof Mr. Perceval's death was in the newspapers, but my second son,\nreturning from Truro, came in a hurried manner into the room where I\nwas sitting and exclaimed:  'O father, your dream has come true!  Mr.\nPerceval has been shot in the lobby of the House of Commons; there is\nan account come from London to Truro written after the newspapers were\nprinted.'\n\n\"The fact was Mr. Percival was assassinated on the evening of the\n11th.\n\n\"Some business soon after called me to London, and in one of the\nprint-shops I saw a drawing for sale, representing the place and the\ncircumstances which attended Mr. Perceval's death.  I purchased it,\nand upon a careful examination I found it to coincide in all respects\nwith the scene which had passed through my imagination in the dream.\nThe colours of the dresses, the buttons of the assassin's coat, the\nwhite waistcoat of Mr. Perceval, the spot of blood upon it, the\ncountenances and attitudes of the parties present were exactly what I\nhad dreamed.\n\n\"The singularity of the case, when mentioned among my friends and\nacquaintances, naturally made it the subject of conversation in\nLondon, and in consequence my friend, the late Mr. Rennie, was\nrequested by some of the commissioners of the navy that they might be\npermitted to hear the circumstances from myself.  Two of them\naccordingly met me at Mr. Rennie's house, and to them I detailed at\nthe time the particulars, then fresh in my memory, which form the\nsubject of the above statement.\n\n\"I forbear to make any comment on the above narrative, further than to\ndeclare solemnly that it is a faithful account of facts as they\nactually occurred.\n\n(Signed) \"JOHN WILLIAMS.\" {42}\n\nWhen we come to dreams of the future, great historical examples are\nscarce indeed, that is, dreams respectably authenticated.  We have to\nput up with curious trivialities.  One has an odd feature.\n\nTHE RATTLESNAKE\n\nDr. Kinsolving, of the Church of the Epiphany in Philadelphia, dreamed\nthat he \"came across a rattlesnake,\" which \"when killed had _two_\nblack-looking rattles and a peculiar projection of bone from the tail,\nwhile the skin was unusually light in colour\".  Next day, while\nwalking with his brother, Dr. Kinsolving nearly trod on a rattlesnake,\n\"the same snake in every particular with the one I had had in my\nmind's eye\".  This would be very well, but Dr. Kinsolving's brother,\nwho helped to kill the unlucky serpent, says \"_he had a single\nrattle_\".  The letters of these gentlemen were written without\ncommunication to each other.  If Mr. Kinsolving is right, the real\nsnake with _one_ rattle was _not_ the dream snake with _two_ rattles.\nThe brothers were in a snaky country, West Virginia. {43}\n\nThe following is trivial, but good.  It is written by Mr. Alfred\nCooper, and attested by the dreamer, the Duchess of Hamilton.\n\nTHE RED LAMP\n\nMr. Cooper says:  \"A fortnight before the death of the late Earl of L---\nin 1882, I called upon the Duke of Hamilton, in Hill Street, to see\nhim professionally.  After I had finished seeing him, we went into the\ndrawing-room, where the duchess was, and the duke said, 'Oh, Cooper,\nhow is the earl?'\n\n\"The duchess said, 'What earl?' and on my answering 'Lord L---,' she\nreplied:  'That is very odd.  I have had a most extraordinary vision.\nI went to bed, but after being in bed a short time, I was not exactly\nasleep, but thought I saw a scene as if from a play before me.  The\nactors in it were Lord L--- as if in a fit, with a man standing over\nhim with a red beard.  He was by the side of a bath, over which a red\nlamp was distinctly shown.\n\n\"I then said:  'I am attending Lord L--- at present; there is very\nlittle the matter with him; he is not going to die; he will be all\nright very soon'.\n\n\"Well he got better for a week and was nearly well, but at the end of\nsix or seven days after this I was called to see him suddenly.  He had\ninflammation of both lungs.\n\n\"I called in Sir William Jenner, but in six days he was a dead man.\nThere were two male nurses attending on him; one had been taken ill.\nBut when I saw the other, the dream of the duchess was exactly\nrepresented.  He was standing near a bath over the earl, and strange\nto say, his beard was red.  There was the bath with the red lamp over\nit.  It is rather rare to find a bath with a red lamp over it, and\nthis brought the story to my mind. . . .\"\n\nThis account, written in 1888, has been revised by the late Duke of\nManchester, father of the Duchess of Hamilton, who heard the vision\nfrom his daughter on the morning after she had seen it.\n\nThe duchess only knew the earl by sight, and had not heard that he was\nill.  She knew she was not asleep, for she opened her eyes to get rid\nof the vision, and, shutting them, saw the same thing again. {45a}\n\nIn fact, the \"vision\" was an illusion hypnagogique.  Probably most\nreaders know the procession of visions which sometimes crowd on the\nclosed eyes just before sleep. {45b}  They commonly represent with\nvivid clearness unknown faces or places, occasionally known faces.\nThe writer has seen his own in this way and has occasionally \"opened\nhis eyes to get rid of\" the appearances.  In his opinion the pictures\nare unconsciously constructed by the half-sleeping mind out of blurs\nof light or dark seen with closed eyes.  Mr. Cooper's story would be\nmore complete if he had said whether or not the earl, when visited by\nhim, was in a chair as in the vision.  But beds are not commonly found\nin bathrooms.\n\nTHE SCAR IN THE MOUSTACHE\n\nThis story was told to the writer by his old head-master, the Rev. Dr.\nHodson, brother of Hodson, of Hodson's Horse, a person whom I never\nheard make any other allusion to such topics.  Dr. Hodson was staying\nwith friends in Switzerland during the holidays.  One morning, as he\nlay awake, he seemed to see into a room as if the wall of his bedroom\nhad been cut out.  In the room were a lady well known to him and a man\nwhom he did not know.  The man's back was turned to the looker-on.\nThe scene vanished, and grew again.  Now the man faced Dr. Hodson; the\nface was unfamiliar, and had a deep white scar seaming the moustache.\nDr. Hodson mentioned the circumstance to his friends, and thought\nlittle of it.  He returned home, and, one day, in Perth station, met\nthe lady at the book-stall.  He went up to accost her, and was\nsurprised by the uneasiness of her manner.  A gentleman now joined\nthem, with a deep white scar through his moustache.  Dr. Hodson now\nrecalled, what had slipped his memory, that the lady during his\nabsence from Scotland had eloped with an officer, the man of the\nvision and the railway station.  He did not say, or perhaps know,\nwhether the elopement was prior to the kind of dream in Switzerland.\n\nHere is a dream representing a future event, with details which could\nnot be guessed beforehand.\n\nTHE CORAL SPRIGS\n\nMrs. Weiss, of St. Louis, was in New York in January, 1881, attending\na daughter, Mrs. C., who was about to have a child.  She writes:--\n\n\"On Friday night (Jan. 21) I dreamed that my daughter's time came;\nthat owing to some cause not clearly defined, we failed to get word to\nMr. C., who was to bring the doctor; that we sent for the nurse, who\ncame; that as the hours passed and neither Mr. C. nor the doctor came\nwe both got frightened; that at last I heard Mr. C. on the stairs, and\ncried to him:  'Oh, Chan, for heaven's sake get a doctor!  Ada may be\nconfined at any moment'; that he rushed away, and I returned to the\nbedside of my daughter, who was in agony of mind and body; that\nsuddenly I seemed to know what to do, . . . and that shortly after Mr.\nC. came, bringing a tall young doctor, having brown eyes, dark hair,\nruddy brun complexion, grey trousers and grey vest, and wearing a\nbright blue cravat, picked out with coral sprigs; the cravat attracted\nmy attention particularly.  The young doctor pronounced Mrs. C.\nproperly attended to, and left.\"\n\nMrs. Weiss at breakfast told the dream to Mr. C. and her daughter;\nnone of them attached any importance to it.  However, as a snowstorm\nbroke the telegraph wires on Saturday, the day after the dream, Mrs.\nWeiss was uneasy.  On Tuesday the state of Mrs. C. demanded a doctor.\nMrs. Weiss sent a telegram for Mr. C.; he came at last, went out to\nbring a doctor, and was long absent.  Then Mrs. Weiss suddenly felt a\ncalm certainty that _she_ (though inexperienced in such cares) could\ndo what was needed.  \"I heard myself say in a peremptory fashion:\n'Ada, don't be afraid, I know just what to do; all will go well'.\"\nAll did go well; meanwhile Mr. C. ran to seven doctors' houses, and at\nlast returned with a young man whom Mrs. Weiss vaguely recognised.\nMrs. C. whispered, \"Look at the doctor's cravat\".  It was blue and\ncoral sprigged, and then first did Mrs. Weiss remember her dream of\nFriday night.\n\nMrs. Weiss's story is corroborated by Mr. Blanchard, who heard the\nstory \"a few days after the event\".  Mrs. C. has read Mrs. Weiss's\nstatement, \"and in so far as I can remember it is quite correct\".  Mr.\nC. remembers nothing about it; \"he declares that he has no\nrecollection of it, _or of any matters outside his business_, and\nknowing him as I do,\" says Mrs. Weiss, \"I do not doubt the assertion\".\n\nMr. C. must be an interesting companion.  The nurse remembers that\nafter the birth of the baby Mrs. C. called Mr. C.'s attention to \"the\ndoctor's necktie,\" and heard her say, \"Why, I know him by mamma's\ndescription as the doctor she saw in her dreams\". {48}\n\nThe only thing even more extraordinary than the dream is Mr. C.'s\ninability to remember anything whatever \"outside of his business\".\nAnother witness appears to decline to be called, \"as it would be\nembarrassing to him in his business\".  This it is to be Anglo-Saxon!\n\nWe now turn to a Celtic dream, in which knowledge supposed to be only\nknown to a dead man was conveyed to his living daughter.\n\nTHE SATIN SLIPPERS\n\nOn 1st February, 1891, Michael Conley, a farmer living near Ionia, in\nChichasow county, Iowa, went to Dubuque, in Iowa, to be medically\ntreated.  He left at home his son Pat and his daughter Elizabeth, a\ngirl of twenty-eight, a Catholic, in good health.  On February 3\nMichael was found dead in an outhouse near his inn.  In his pocket\nwere nine dollars, seventy-five cents, but his clothes, including his\nshirt, were thought so dirty and worthless that they were thrown away.\nThe body was then dressed in a white shirt, black clothes and satin\nslippers of a new pattern.  Pat Conley was telegraphed for, and\narrived at Dubuque on February 4, accompanied by Mr. George Brown, \"an\nintelligent and reliable farmer\".  Pat took the corpse home in a\ncoffin, and on his arrival Elizabeth fell into a swoon, which lasted\nfor several hours.  Her own account of what followed on her recovery\nmay be given in her own words:--\n\n\"When they told me that father was dead I felt very sick and bad; I\ndid not know anything.  Then father came to me.  He had on a white\nshirt\" (his own was grey), \"and black clothes and slippers.  When I\ncame to, I told Pat I had seen father.  I asked Pat if he had brought\nback father's old clothes.  He said 'No,' and asked me why I wanted\nthem.  I told him father said he had sewed a roll of bills inside of\nhis grey shirt, in a pocket made of a piece of my old red dress.  I\nwent to sleep, and father came to me again.  When I awoke I told Pat\nhe must go and get the clothes\"--her father's old clothes.\n\nPat now telephoned to Mr. Hoffman, Coroner of Dubuque, who found the\nold clothes in the back yard of the local morgue.  They were wrapped\nup in a bundle.  Receiving this news, Pat went to Dubuque on February\n9, where Mr. Hoffman opened the bundle in Pat's presence.  Inside the\nold grey shirt was found a pocket of red stuff, sewn with a man's\nlong, uneven stitches, and in the pocket notes for thirty-five\ndollars.\n\nThe girl did not see the body in the coffin, but asked about the _old_\nclothes, because the figure of her father in her dream wore clothes\nwhich she did not recognise as his.  To dream in a faint is nothing\nunusual. {50}\n\nTHE DEAD SHOPMAN\n\nSwooning, or slight mental mistiness, is not very unusual in ghost\nseers.  The brother of a friend of my own, a man of letters and wide\nerudition, was, as a boy, employed in a shop in a town, say Wexington.\nThe overseer was a dark, rather hectic-looking man, who died.  Some\nmonths afterwards the boy was sent on an errand.  He did his business,\nbut, like a boy, returned by a longer and more interesting route.  He\nstopped as a bookseller's shop to stare at the books and pictures, and\nwhile doing so felt a kind of mental vagueness.  It was just before\nhis dinner hour, and he may have been hungry.  On resuming his way, he\nlooked up and found the dead overseer beside him.  He had no sense of\nsurprise, and walked for some distance, conversing on ordinary topics\nwith the appearance.  He happened to notice such a minute detail as\nthat the spectre's boots were laced in an unusual way.  At a crossing,\nsomething in the street attracted his attention; he looked away from\nhis companion, and, on turning to resume their talk, saw no more of\nhim.  He then walked to the shop, where he mentioned the occurrence to\na friend.  He has never during a number of years had any such\nexperience again, or suffered the preceding sensation of vagueness.\n\nThis, of course, is not a ghost story, but leads up to the old tale of\nthe wraith of Valogne.  In this case, two boys had made a covenant,\nthe first who died was to appear to the other.  He _did_ appear before\nnews of his death arrived, but after a swoon of his friend's, whose\nhealth (like that of Elizabeth Conley) suffered in consequence.\n\nNOTE\n\n\"PERCEVAL MURDER.\"  Times, 25th May, 1812.\n\n\"A Dumfries paper states that on the night of Sunday, the 10th\ninstant, _twenty-four hours before the fatal deed was perpetrated_, a\nreport was brought to Bude Kirk, two miles from Annan, that _Mr.\nPerceval was shot on his way to the House of Commons, at the door or\nin the lobby of that House_.  This the whole inhabitants of the\nvillage are ready to attest, as the report quickly spread and became\nthe topic of conversation.  A clergyman investigated the rumour, with\nthe view of tracing it to its source, but without success.\"\n\nThe Times of 2nd June says, \"Report without foundation\".\n\nPerth Courier, 28th May, quoting from the Dumfries and Galloway\nCourier, repeats above almost verbatim.  \" . . .  The clergyman to\nwhom we have alluded, and who allows me to make use of his name, is\nMr. Yorstoun, minister of Hoddam.  This gentleman went to the spot and\ncarefully investigated the rumour, but has not hitherto been\nsuccessful, although he has obtained the most satisfactory proof of\nits having existed at the time we have mentioned.  We forbear to make\nany comments on this wonderful circumstance, but should anything\nfurther transpire that may tend to throw light upon it, we shall not\nfail to give the public earliest information.\"\n\nThe Dumfries and Galloway Courier I cannot find!  It is not in the\nBritish Museum.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\n\nTransition from Dreams to Waking Hallucinations.  Popular Scepticism\nabout the Existence of Hallucinations in the Sane.  Evidence of Mr.\nFrancis Galton, F.R.S.  Scientific Disbelief in ordinary Mental\nImagery.  Scientific Men who do not see in \"the Mind's Eye\".  Ordinary\nPeople who do.  Frequency of Waking Hallucinations among Mr. Gallon's\nfriends.  Kept Private till asked for by Science.  Causes of such\nHallucinations unknown.  Story of the Diplomatist.  Voluntary or\nInduced Hallucinations.  Crystal Gazing.  Its Universality.\nExperience of George Sand.  Nature of such Visions.  Examples.\nNovelists.  Crystal Visions only \"Ghostly\" when Veracious.  Modern\nExamples.  Under the Lamp.  The Cow with the Bell Historical Example.\nProphetic Crystal Vision.  St. Simon The Regent d'Orleans.  The\nDeathbed of Louis XIV.  References for other Cases of Crystal Visions.\n\nFrom dreams, in sleep or swoon, of a character difficult to believe in\nwe pass by way of \"hallucinations\" to ghosts.  Everybody is ready to\nadmit that dreams do really occur, because almost everybody has\ndreamed.  But everybody is not so ready to admit that sane and\nsensible men and women can have hallucinations, just because everybody\nhas not been hallucinated.\n\nOn this point Mr. Francis Galton, in his Inquiries into Human Faculty\n(1833), is very instructive.  Mr. Galton drew up a short catechism,\nasking people how clearly or how dimly they saw things \"in their\nmind's eye\".\n\n\"Think of your breakfast-table,\" he said; \"is your mental picture of\nit as clearly illuminated and as complete as your actual view of the\nscene?\"  Mr. Galton began by questioning friends in the scientific\nworld, F.R.S.'s and other savants.  \"The earliest results of my\ninquiry amazed me. . . .  The great majority of the men of science to\nwhom I first applied, protested that _mental imagery was unknown to\nthem_, and they looked on me as fanciful and fantastic in supposing\nthat the words 'mental imagery' really expressed what I believed\neverybody supposed them to mean.\"  One gentleman wrote:  \"It is only\nby a figure of speech that I can describe my recollection of a scene\nas a 'mental image' which I can 'see' with 'my mind's eye'.  I do not\nsee it,\" so he seems to have supposed that nobody else did.\n\nWhen he made inquiries in general society, Mr. Galton found plenty of\npeople who \"saw\" mental imagery with every degree of brilliance or\ndimness, from \"quite comparable to the real object\" to \"I recollect\nthe table, but do not see it\"--my own position.\n\nMr. Galton was next \"greatly struck by the frequency of the replies in\nwhich my correspondents\" (sane and healthy) \"described themselves as\nsubject to 'visions'\".  These varied in degree, \"some were so vivid as\nactually to deceive the judgment\".  Finally, \"a notable proportion of\nsane persons have had not only visions, but actual hallucinations of\nsight at one or more periods of their life.  I have a considerable\npacket of instances contributed by my personal friends.\"  Thus one\n\"distinguished authoress\" saw \"the principal character of one of her\nnovels glide through the door straight up to her.  It was about the\nsize of a large doll.\"  Another heard unreal music, and opened the\ndoor to hear it better.  Another was plagued by voices, which said\n\"Pray,\" and so forth.\n\nThus, on scientific evidence, sane and healthy people may, and \"in a\nnotable proportion _do_, experience hallucinations\".  That is to say,\nthey see persons, or hear them, or believe they are touched by them,\nor all their senses are equally affected at once, when no such persons\nare really present.  This kind of thing is always going on, but \"when\npopular opinion is of a matter-of-fact kind, the seers of visions keep\nquiet; they do not like to be thought fanciful or mad, and they hide\ntheir experiences, which only come to light through inquiries such as\nthose that I have been making\".\n\nWe may now proceed to the waking hallucinations of sane and healthy\npeople, which Mr. Galton declares to be so far from uncommon.  Into\nthe _causes_ of these hallucinations which may actually deceive the\njudgment, Mr. Galton does not enter.\n\nSTORY OF THE DIPLOMATIST {56a}\n\nFor example, there is a living diplomatist who knows men and cities,\nand has, moreover, a fine sense of humour.  \"My Lord,\" said a famous\nRussian statesman to him, \"you have all the qualities of a\ndiplomatist, but you cannot control your smile.\"  This gentleman,\nwalking alone in a certain cloister at Cambridge, met a casual\nacquaintance, a well-known London clergyman, and was just about\nshaking hands with him, when the clergyman vanished.  Nothing in\nparticular happened to either of them; the clergyman was not in the\nseer's mind at the moment.\n\nThis is a good example of a solitary hallucination in the experience\nof a very cool-headed observer.  The _causes_ of such experiences are\nstill a mystery to science.  Even people who believe in \"mental\ntelegraphy,\" say when a distant person, at death or in any other\ncrisis, impresses himself as present on the senses of a friend, cannot\naccount for an experience like that of the diplomatist, an experience\nnot very uncommon, and little noticed except when it happens to\ncoincide with some remarkable event. {56b}  Nor are such\nhallucinations of an origin easily detected, like those of delirium,\ninsanity, intoxication, grief, anxiety, or remorse.  We can only\nsuppose that a past impression of the aspect of a friend is recalled\nby some association of ideas so vividly that (though we are not\n_consciously_ thinking of him) we conceive the friend to be actually\npresent in the body when he is absent.\n\nThese hallucinations are casual and unsought.  But between these and\nthe dreams of sleep there is a kind of waking hallucinations which\nsome people can purposely evoke.  Such are the visions of _crystal\ngazing_.\n\nAmong the superstitions of almost all ages and countries is the belief\nthat \"spirits\" will show themselves, usually after magical ceremonies,\nto certain persons, commonly children, who stare into a crystal ball,\na cup, a mirror, a blob of ink (in Egypt and India), a drop of blood\n(among the Maoris of New Zealand), a bowl of water (Red Indian), a\npond (Roman and African), water in a glass bowl (in Fez), or almost\nany polished surface.  The magical ceremonies, which have probably\nnothing to do with the matter, have succeeded in making this old and\nnearly universal belief seem a mere fantastic superstition.  But\noccasionally a person not superstitious has recorded this experience.\nThus George Sand in her Histoire de ma Vie mentions that, as a little\ngirl, she used to see wonderful moving landscapes in the polished back\nof a screen.  These were so vivid that she thought they must be\nvisible to others.\n\nRecent experiments have proved that an unexpected number of people\nhave this faculty.  Gazing into a ball of crystal or glass, a crystal\nor other smooth ring stone, such as a sapphire or ruby, or even into a\ncommon ink-pot, they will see visions very brilliant.  These are often\nmere reminiscences of faces or places, occasionally of faces or places\nsunk deep below the ordinary memory.  Still more frequently they\nrepresent fantastic landscapes and romantic scenes, as in an\nhistorical novel, with people in odd costumes coming, going and\nacting.  Thus I have been present when a lady saw in a glass ball a\nman in white Oriental costume kneeling beside a leaping fountain of\nfire.  Presently a hand appeared pointing downwards through the flame.\nThe _first_ vision seen pretty often represents an invalid in bed.\nPrinted words are occasionally read in the glass, as also happens in\nthe visions beheld with shut eyes before sleeping.\n\nAll these kinds of things, in fact, are common in our visions between\nsleeping and waking (illusions hypnagogiques).  The singularity is\nthat they are seen by people wide awake in glass balls and so forth.\nUsually the seer is a person whose ordinary \"mental imagery\" is\nparticularly vivid.  But every \"visualiser\" is not a crystal seer.  A\nnovelist of my acquaintance can \"visualise\" so well that, having\nforgotten an address and lost the letter on which it was written, he\ncalled up a mental picture of the letter, and so discovered the\naddress.  But this very popular writer can see no visions in a crystal\nball.  Another very popular novelist can see them; little dramas are\nacted out in the ball for his edification. {58}\n\nThese things are as unfamiliar to men of science as Mr. Galton found\nordinary mental imagery, pictures in memory, to be.  Psychology may or\nmay not include them in her province; they may or may not come to be\nstudied as ordinary dreams are studied.  But, like dreams, these\ncrystal visions enter the domain of the ghostly only when they are\n_veracious_, and contribute information previously unknown as to past,\npresent or future.  There are plenty of stories to this effect.  To\nbegin with an easy, or comparatively easy, exercise in belief.\n\nUNDER THE LAMP\n\nI had given a glass ball to a young lady, who believed that she could\nplay the \"willing game\" successfully without touching the person\n\"willed,\" and when the person did not even know that \"willing\" was\ngoing on.  This lady, Miss Baillie, had scarcely any success with the\nball.  She lent it to Miss Leslie, who saw a large, square, old-\nfashioned red sofa covered with muslin, which she found in the next\ncountry house she visited.  Miss Baillie's brother, a young athlete\n(at short odds for the amateur golf championship), laughed at these\nexperiments, took the ball into the study, and came back looking \"gey\ngash\".  He admitted that he had seen a vision, somebody he knew \"under\na lamp\".  He would discover during the week whether he saw right or\nnot.  This was at 5.30 on a Sunday afternoon.  On Tuesday, Mr. Baillie\nwas at a dance in a town some forty miles from his home, and met a\nMiss Preston.  \"On Sunday,\" he said, \"about half-past five you were\nsitting under a standard lamp in a dress I never saw you wear, a blue\nblouse with lace over the shoulders, pouring out tea for a man in blue\nserge, whose back was towards me, so that I only saw the tip of his\nmoustache.\"\n\n\"Why, the blinds must have been up,\" said Miss Preston.\n\n\"I was at Dulby,\" said Mr. Baillie, as he undeniably was. {60a}\n\nThis is not a difficult exercise in belief.  Miss Preston was not\nunlikely to be at tea at tea-time.\n\nNor is the following very hard.\n\nTHE COW WITH THE BELL\n\nI had given a glass ball to the wife of a friend, whose visions proved\nso startling and on one occasion so unholy that she ceased to make\nexperiments.  One day my friend's secretary, a young student and\ngolfer, took up the ball.\n\n\"I see a field I know very well,\" he said, \"but there is a cow in it\nthat I never saw; brown, with white markings, and, this is odd in\nScotland, she has a bell hanging from her neck.  I'll go and look at\nthe field.\"\n\nHe went and found the cow as described, bell and all. {60b}\n\nIn the spring of 1897 I gave a glass ball to a young lady, previously\na stranger to me, who was entirely unacquainted with crystal gazing,\neven by report.  She had, however, not infrequent experience of\nspontaneous visions, which were fulfilled, including a vision of the\nDerby (Persimmon's year), which enriched her friends.  In using the\nball she, time after time, succeeded in seeing and correctly\ndescribing persons and places familiar to people for whom she\n\"scried,\" but totally strange to herself.  In one case she added a\ndetail quite unknown to the person who consulted her, but which was\nverified on inquiry.  These experiments will probably be published\nelsewhere.  Four people, out of the very small number who tried on\nthese occasions, saw fancy pictures in the ball:  two were young\nladies, one a man, and one a schoolboy.  I must confess that, for the\nfirst time, I was impressed by the belief that the lady's veracious\nvisions, however they are to be explained, could not possibly be\naccounted for by chance coincidence.  They were too many (I was aware\nof five in a few days), too minute, and too remote from the range of\ningenious guessing.  But \"thought transference,\" tapping the mental\nwires of another person, would have accounted for every case, with,\nperhaps, the exception of that in which an unknown detail was added.\nThis confession will, undoubtedly, seem weakly credulous, but not to\nmake it would be unfair and unsportsmanlike.  My statement, of course,\nespecially without the details, is not evidence for other people.\n\nThe following case is a much harder exercise in belief.  It is\nnarrated by the Duc de Saint Simon. {62}  The events were described to\nSaint Simon on the day after their occurrence by the Duc d'Orleans,\nthen starting for Italy, in May, 1706.  Saint Simon was very intimate\nwith the duke, and they corresponded by private cypher without\nsecretaries.  Owing to the death of the king's son and grandson (not\nseen in the vision), Orleans became Regent when Louis XIV. died in\n1714.  Saint Simon is a reluctant witness, and therefore all the\nbetter.\n\nTHE DEATHBED OF LOUIS XIV.\n\n\"Here is a strange story that the Duc d'Orleans told me one day in a\ntete-a-tete at Marly, he having just run down from Paris before he\nstarted for Italy; and it may be observed that all the events\npredicted came to pass, though none of them could have been foreseen\nat the time.  His interest in every kind of art and science was very\ngreat, and in spite of his keen intellect, he was all his life subject\nto a weakness which had been introduced (with other things) from Italy\nby Catherine de Medici, and had reigned supreme over the courts of her\nchildren.  He had exercised every known method of inducing the devil\nto appear to him in person, though, as he has himself told me, without\nthe smallest success.  He had spent much time in investigating matters\nthat touched on the supernatural, and dealt with the future.\n\n\"Now La Sery (his mistress) had in her house a little girl of eight or\nnine years of age, who had never resided elsewhere since her birth.\nShe was to all appearance a very ordinary child, and from the way in\nwhich she had been brought up, was more than commonly ignorant and\nsimple.  One day, during the visit of M. d'Orleans, La Sery produced\nfor his edification one of the charlatans with whom the duke had long\nbeen familiar, who pretended that by means of a glass of water he\ncould see the answer to any question that might be put.  For this\npurpose it was necessary to have as a go-between some one both young\nand innocent, to gaze into the water, and this little girl was at once\nsent for.  They amused themselves by asking what was happening in\ncertain distant places; and after the man had murmured some words over\nthe water, the child looked in and always managed to see the vision\nrequired of her.\n\n\"M. le duc d'Orleans had so often been duped in matters of this kind\nthat he determined to put the water-gazer to a severe test.  He\nwhispered to one of his attendants to go round to Madame de Nancre's,\nwho lived close by, and ascertain who was there, what they were all\ndoing, the position of the room and the way it was furnished, and\nthen, without exchanging a word with any one, to return and let him\nknow the result.  This was done speedily and without the slightest\nsuspicion on the part of any person, the child remaining in the room\nall the time.  When M. le duc d'Orleans had learned all he wanted to\nknow, he bade the child look in the water and tell him who was at\nMadame de Nancre's and what they were all doing.  She repeated word\nfor word the story that had been told by the duke's messenger;\ndescribed minutely the faces, dresses and positions of the assembled\ncompany, those that were playing cards at the various tables, those\nthat were sitting, those that were standing, even the very furniture!\nBut to leave nothing in doubt, the Duke of Orleans despatched Nancre\nback to the house to verify a second time the child's account, and\nlike the valet, he found she had been right in every particular.\n\n\"As a rule he said very little to me about these subjects, as he knew\nI did not approve of them, and on this occasion I did not fail to\nscold him, and to point out the folly of being amused by such things,\nespecially at a time when his attention should be occupied with more\nserious matters.  'Oh, but I have only told you half,' he replied;\n'that was just the beginning,' and then he went on to say that,\nencouraged by the exactitude of the little girl's description of\nMadame de Nancre's room, he resolved to put to her a more important\nquestion, namely, as to the scene that would occur at the death of the\nking.  The child had never seen any one who was about the court, and\nhad never even heard of Versailles, but she described exactly and at\ngreat length the king's bedroom at Versailles and all the furniture\nwhich was in fact there at the date of his death.  She gave every\ndetail as to the bed, and cried out on recognising, in the arms of\nMadame de Ventadour, a little child decorated with an order whom she\nhad seen at the house of Mademoiselle la Sery; and again at the sight\nof M. le duc d'Orleans.  From her account, Madame de Maintenon, Fagon\nwith his odd face, Madame la duchesse d'Orleans, Madame la duchesse,\nMadame la princesse de Conti, besides other princes and nobles, and\neven the valets and servants were all present at the king's deathbed.\nThen she paused, and M. le duc d'Orleans, surprised that she had never\nmentioned Monseigneur, Monsieur le duc de Bourgogne, Madame la\nduchesse de Bourgogne, nor M. le duc de Berri, inquired if she did not\nsee such and such people answering to their description.  She\npersisted that she did not, and went over the others for the second\ntime.  This astonished M. le duc d'Orleans deeply, as well as myself,\nand we were at a loss to explain it, but the event proved that the\nchild was perfectly right.  This seance took place in 1706.  These\nfour members of the royal family were then full of health and\nstrength; and they all died before the king.  It was the same thing\nwith M. le prince, M. le duc, and M. le prince de Conti, whom she\nlikewise did not see, though she beheld the children of the two last\nnamed; M. du Maine, his own (Orleans), and M. le comte de Toulouse.\nBut of course this fact was unknown till eight years after.\"\n\nScience may conceivably come to study crystal visions, but veracious\ncrystal visions will be treated like veracious dreams.  That is to\nsay, they will be explained as the results of a chance coincidence\nbetween the unknown fact and the vision, or of imposture, conscious or\nunconscious, or of confusion of memory, or the fact of the crystal\nvision will be simply denied.  Thus a vast number of well-\nauthenticated cases of veracious visions will be required before\nscience could admit that it might be well to investigate hitherto\nunacknowledged faculties of the human mind.  The evidence can never be\nother than the word of the seer, with whatever value may attach to the\ntestimony of those for whom he \"sees,\" and describes, persons and\nplaces unknown to himself.  The evidence of individuals as to their\nown subjective experiences is accepted by psychologists in other\ndepartments of the study. {66}\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\n\nVeracious Waking Hallucinations not recognised by Science; or\nexplained by Coincidence, Imposture, False Memory.  A Veracious\nHallucination popularly called a Wraith or Ghost.  Example of\nUnveracious Hallucination.  The Family Coach.  Ghosts' Clothes and\nother Properties and Practices; how explained.  Case of Veracious\nHallucination.  Riding Home from Mess.  Another Case.  The Bright\nScar.  The Vision and the Portrait.  Such Stories not usually\nbelieved.  Cases of Touch:  The Restraining Hand.  Of Hearing:  The\nBenedictine's Voices; The Voice in the Bath-room.  Other \"Warnings\".\nThe Maoris.  The Man at the Lift.  Appearances Coincident with Death.\nOthers not Coincident with Anything.\n\nIn \"crystal-gazing\" anybody can make experiments for himself and among\nsuch friends as he thinks he can trust.  They are hallucinations\nconsciously sought for, and as far as possible, provoked or induced by\ntaking certain simple measures.  Unsought, spontaneous waking\nhallucinations, according to the result of Mr. Galton's researches,\nthough not nearly so common as dreams, are as much facts of _sane_\nmental experience.  Now every ghost or wraith is a hallucination.  You\nsee your wife in the dining-room when she really is in the drawing-\nroom; you see your late great-great-grandfather anywhere.  Neither\nperson is really present.  The first appearance in popular language is\na \"wraith\"; the second is a \"ghost\" in ordinary speech.  Both are\nhallucinations.\n\nSo far Mr. Galton would go, but mark what follows!  Everybody allows\nthe existence of dreams, but comparatively few believe in dream\nstories of _veracious_ dreams.  So every scientific man believes in\nhallucinations, {68} but few believe in _veracious_ hallucinations.  A\nveracious hallucination is, for our purpose, one which communicates\n(as veracious dreams do) information not otherwise known, or, at\nleast, not known to the knower to be known.  The communication of the\nknowledge may be done by audible words, with or without an actual\napparition, or with an apparition, by words or gestures.  Again, if a\nhallucination of Jones's presence tallies with a great crisis in\nJones's life, or with his death, the hallucination is so far veracious\nin that, at least, it does not seem meaningless.  Or if Jones's\nappearance has some unwonted feature not known to the seer, but\nafterwards proved to be correct in fact, that is veracious.  Next, if\nseveral persons successively in the same place, or simultaneously,\nhave a similar hallucination not to be accounted for physically, that\nis, if not a veracious, a curious hallucination.  Once more, if a\nhallucinatory figure is afterwards recognised in a living person\npreviously unknown, or a portrait previously unseen, that (if the\nrecognition be genuine) is a veracious hallucination.  The vulgar call\nit a wraith of the living, or a ghost of the dead.\n\nHere follow two cases.  The first, The Family Coach, {69a} gave no\nverified intelligence, and would be styled a \"subjective\nhallucination\".  The second contributed knowledge of facts not\npreviously known to the witness, and so the vulgar would call it a\nghost.  Both appearances were very rich and full of complicated\ndetail.  Indeed, any ghost that wears clothes is a puzzle.  Nobody but\nsavages thinks that clothes have ghosts, but Tom Sawyer conjectures\nthat ghosts' clothes \"are made of ghost stuff\".\n\nAs a rule, not very much is seen of a ghost; he is \"something of a\nshadowy being\".  Yet we very seldom hear of a ghost stark naked; that\nof Sergeant Davies, murdered in 1749, is one of three or four examples\nin civilised life. {69b}  Hence arises the old question, \"How are we\nto account for the clothes of ghosts?\" One obvious reply is that there\nis no ghost at all, only a hallucination.  We do not see people naked,\nas a rule, in our dreams; and hallucinations, being waking dreams,\nconform to the same rule.  If a ghost opens a door or lifts a curtain\nin our sight, that, too, is only part of the illusion.  The door did\nnot open; the curtain was not lifted.  Nay, if the wrist or hand of\nthe seer is burned or withered, as in a crowd of stories, the ghost's\nhand did not produce the effect.  It was produced in the same way as\nwhen a hypnotised patient is told that \"his hand is burned,\" his fancy\nthen begets real blisters, or so we are informed, truly or not.  The\nstigmata of St. Francis and others are explained in the same way. {70}\nHow ghosts pull bedclothes off and make objects fly about is another\nquestion:  in any case the ghosts are not _seen_ in the act.\n\nThus the clothes of ghosts, their properties, and their actions\naffecting physical objects, are not more difficult to explain than a\nnaked ghost would be, they are all the \"stuff that dreams are made\nof\".  But occasionally things are carried to a great pitch, as when a\nghost drives off in a ghostly dogcart, with a ghostly horse, whip and\nharness.  Of this complicated kind we give two examples; the first\nreckons as a \"subjective,\" the second as a veracious hallucination.\n\nTHE OLD FAMILY COACH\n\nA distinguished and accomplished country gentleman and politician, of\nscientific tastes, was riding in the New Forest, some twelve miles\nfrom the place where he was residing.  In a grassy glade he discovered\nthat he did not very clearly know his way to a country town which he\nintended to visit.  At this moment, on the other side of some bushes a\ncarriage drove along, and then came into clear view where there was a\ngap in the bushes.  Mr. Hyndford saw it perfectly distinctly; it was a\nslightly antiquated family carriage, the sides were in that imitation\nof wicker work on green panel which was once so common.  The coachman\nwas a respectable family servant, he drove two horses:  two old ladies\nwere in the carriage, one of them wore a hat, the other a bonnet.\nThey passed, and then Mr. Hyndford, going through the gap in the\nbushes, rode after them to ask his way.  There was no carriage in\nsight, the avenue ended in a cul-de-sac of tangled brake, and there\nwere no traces of wheels on the grass.  Mr. Hyndford rode back to his\noriginal point of view, and looked for any object which could suggest\nthe illusion of one old-fashioned carriage, one coachman, two horses\nand two elderly ladies, one in a hat and one in a bonnet.  He looked\nin vain--and that is all!\n\nNobody in his senses would call this appearance a ghostly one.  The\nname, however, would be applied to the following tale of\n\nRIDING HOME FROM MESS\n\nIn 1854, General Barter, C.B., was a subaltern in the 75th Regiment,\nand was doing duty at the hill station of Murree in the Punjaub.  He\nlived in a house built recently by a Lieutenant B., who died, as\nresearches at the War Office prove, at Peshawur on 2nd January, 1854.\nThe house was on a spur of the hill, three or four hundred yards under\nthe only road, with which it communicated by a \"bridle path,\" never\nused by horsemen.  That path ended in a precipice; a footpath led into\nthe bridle path from Mr. Barter's house.\n\nOne evening Mr. Barter had a visit from a Mr. and Mrs. Deane, who\nstayed till near eleven o'clock.  There was a full moon, and Mr.\nBarter walked to the bridle path with his friends, who climbed it to\njoin the road.  He loitered with two dogs, smoking a cigar, and just\nas he turned to go home, he heard a horse's hoofs coming down the\nbridle path.  At a bend of the path a tall hat came into view, then\nround the corner, the wearer of the hat, who rode a pony and was\nattended by two native grooms.  \"At this time the two dogs came, and\ncrouching at my side, gave low frightened whimpers.  The moon was at\nthe full, a tropical moon, so bright that you could see to read a\nnewspaper by its light, and I saw the party above me advance as\nplainly as if it were noon-day; they were above me some eight or ten\nfeet on the bridle road. . . .  On the party came, . . . and now I had\nbetter describe them.  The rider was in full dinner dress, with white\nwaistcoat and a tall chimney-pot hat, and he sat on a powerful hill\npony (dark-brown, with black mane and tail) in a listless sort of way,\nthe reins hanging loosely from both hands.\"  Grooms led the pony and\nsupported the rider.  Mr. Barter, knowing that there was no place they\ncould go to but his own house, cried \"Quon hai?\" (who is it?), adding\nin English, \"Hullo, what the devil do you want here?\"  The group\nhalted, the rider gathered up the reins with both hands, and turning,\nshowed Mr. Barter the known features of the late Lieutenant B.\n\nHe was very pale, the face was a dead man's face, he was stouter than\nwhen Mr. Barter knew him and he wore _a dark Newgate fringe_.\n\nMr. Barter dashed up the bank, the earth thrown up in making the\nbridle path crumbled under him, he fell, scrambled on, reached the\nbridle path where the group had stopped, and found nobody.  Mr. Barter\nran up the path for a hundred yards, as nobody could go _down_ it\nexcept over a precipice, and neither heard nor saw anything.  His dogs\ndid not accompany him.\n\nNext day Mr. Barter gently led his friend Deane to talk of Lieutenant\nB., who said that the lieutenant \"grew very bloated before his death,\nand while on the sick list he allowed the fringe to grow in spite of\nall we could say to him, and I believe he was buried with it\".  Mr.\nBarter then asked where he got the pony, describing it minutely.\n\n\"He bought him at Peshawur, and killed him one day, riding in his\nreckless fashion down the hill to Trete.\"\n\nMr. Barter and his wife often heard the horse's hoofs later, though he\ndoubts if any one but B. had ever ridden the bridle path.  His Hindoo\nbearer he found one day armed with a lattie, being determined to\nwaylay the sound, which \"passed him like a typhoon\". {74}  Here the\nappearance gave correct information unknown previously to General\nBarter, namely, that Lieutenant B. grew stout and wore a beard before\nhis death, also that he had owned a brown pony, with black mane and\ntail.  Even granting that the ghosts of the pony and lieutenant were\npresent (both being dead), we are not informed that the grooms were\ndead also.  The hallucination, on the theory of \"mental telegraphy,\"\nwas telegraphed to General Barter's mind from some one who had seen\nLieutenant B. ride home from mess not very sober, or from the mind of\nthe defunct lieutenant, or, perhaps, from that of the deceased pony.\nThe message also reached and alarmed General Barter's dogs.\n\nSomething of the same kind may or may not explain Mr. Hyndford's view\nof the family coach, which gave no traceable information.\n\nThe following story, in which an appearance of the dead conveyed\ninformation not known to the seer, and so deserving to be called\nveracious, is a little ghastly.\n\nTHE BRIGHT SCAR\n\nIn 1867, Miss G., aged eighteen, died suddenly of cholera in St.\nLouis.  In 1876 a brother, F. G., who was much attached to her, had\ndone a good day's business in St. Joseph.  He was sending in his\norders to his employers (he is a commercial traveller) and was smoking\na cigar, when he became conscious that some one was sitting on his\nleft, with one arm on the table.  It was his dead sister.  He sprang\nup to embrace her (for even on meeting a stranger whom we take for a\ndead friend, we never realise the impossibility in the half moment of\nsurprise) but she was gone.  Mr. G. stood there, the ink wet on his\npen, the cigar lighted in his hand, the name of his sister on his\nlips.  He had noted her expression, features, dress, the kindness of\nher eyes, the glow of the complexion, and what he had never seen\nbefore, _a bright red scratch on the right side of her face_.\n\nMr. G. took the next train home to St. Louis, and told the story to\nhis parents.  His father was inclined to ridicule him, but his mother\nnearly fainted.  When she could control herself, she said that,\nunknown to any one, she had accidentally scratched the face of the\ndead, apparently with the pin of her brooch, while arranging something\nabout the corpse.  She had obliterated the scratch with powder, and\nhad kept the fact to herself.  \"She told me she _knew_ at least that I\nhad seen my sister.\"  A few weeks later Mrs. G. died. {75}\n\nHere the information existed in one living mind, the mother's, and if\nthere is any \"mental telegraphy,\" may thence have been conveyed to Mr.\nF. G.\n\nAnother kind of cases which may be called veracious, occurs when the\nghost seer, after seeing the ghost, recognises it in a portrait not\npreviously beheld.  Of course, allowance must be made for fancy, and\nfor conscious or unconscious hoaxing.  You see a spook in Castle\nDangerous.  You then recognise the portrait in the hall, or elsewhere.\nThe temptation to recognise the spook rather more clearly than you\nreally do, is considerable, just as one is tempted to recognise the\nfeatures of the Stuarts in the royal family, of the parents in a baby,\nor in any similar case.\n\nNothing is more common in literary ghost stories than for somebody to\nsee a spectre and afterwards recognise him or her in a portrait not\nbefore seen.  There is an early example in Sir Walter Scott's\nTapestried Chamber, which was told to him by Miss Anna Seward.\nAnother such tale is by Theophile Gautier.  In an essay on Illusions\nby Mr. James Sully, a case is given.  A lady (who corroborated the\nstory to the present author) was vexed all night by a spectre in\narmour.  Next morning she saw, what she had not previously observed, a\nportrait of the spectre in the room.  Mr. Sully explains that she had\nseen the portrait _unconsciously_, and dreamed of it.  He adds the\ncurious circumstance that other people have had the same experience in\nthe same room, which his explanation does not cover.  The following\nstory is published by the Society for Psychical Research, attested by\nthe seer and her husband, whose real names are known, but not\npublished. {76}\n\nTHE VISION AND THE PORTRAIT\n\nMrs. M. writes (December 15, 1891) that before her vision she had\nheard nothing about hauntings in the house occupied by herself and her\nhusband, and nothing about the family sorrows of her predecessors\nthere.\n\n\"One night, on retiring to my bedroom about 11 o'clock, I thought I\nheard a peculiar moaning sound, and some one sobbing as if in great\ndistress of mind.  I listened very attentively, and still it\ncontinued; so I raised the gas in my bedroom, and then went to the\nwindow on the landing, drew the blind aside, and there on the grass\nwas a very beautiful young girl in a kneeling posture, before a\nsoldier in a general's uniform, sobbing and clasping her hands\ntogether, entreating for pardon, but alas! he only waved her away from\nhim.  So much did I feel for the girl that I ran down the staircase to\nthe door opening upon the lawn, and begged her to come in and tell me\nher sorrow.  The figures then disappeared gradually, as in a\ndissolving view.  Not in the least nervous did I feel then; went again\nto my bedroom, took a sheet of writing-paper, and wrote down what I\nhad seen.\" {77}\n\nMrs. M., whose husband was absent, began to feel nervous, and went to\nanother lady's room.\n\nShe later heard of an old disgrace to the youngest daughter of the\nproud family, her predecessors in the house.  The poor girl tried in\nvain to win forgiveness, especially from a near relative, a soldier,\nSir X. Y.\n\n\"So vivid was my remembrance of the features of the soldier, that some\nmonths after the occurrence [of the vision] when I called with my\nhusband at a house where there was a portrait of him, I stepped before\nit and said, 'Why, look! there is the General!'  And sure enough it\n_was_.\"\n\nMrs. M. had not heard that the portrait was in the room where she saw\nit.  Mr. M. writes that he took her to the house where he knew it to\nbe without telling her of its existence.  Mrs. M. turned pale when she\nsaw it.  Mr. M. knew the sad old story, but had kept it to himself.\nThe family in which the disgrace occurred, in 1847 or 1848, were his\nrelations. {78}\n\nThis vision was a veracious hallucination; it gave intelligence not\notherwise known to Mrs. M., and capable of confirmation, therefore the\nappearances would be called \"ghosts\".  The majority of people do not\nbelieve in the truth of any such stories of veracious hallucinations,\njust as they do not believe in veracious dreams.  Mr. Galton, out of\nall his packets of reports of hallucinations, does not even allude to\na veracious example, whether he has records of such a thing or not.\nSuch reports, however, are ghost stories, \"which we now proceed,\" or\ncontinue, \"to narrate\".  The reader will do well to remember that\nwhile everything ghostly, and not to be explained by known physical\nfacts, is in the view of science a hallucination, every hallucination\nis not a ghost for the purposes of story-telling.  The hallucination\nmust, for story-telling purposes, be _veracious_.\n\nFollowing our usual method, we naturally begin with the anecdotes\nleast trying to the judicial faculties, and most capable of an\nordinary explanation.  Perhaps of all the senses, the sense of touch,\nthough in some ways the surest, is in others the most easily deceived.\nSome people who cannot call up a clear mental image of things seen,\nsay a saltcellar, can readily call up a mental revival of the feeling\nof touching salt.  Again, a slight accidental throb, or leap of a\nsinew or vein, may feel so like a touch that we turn round to see who\ntouched us.  These familiar facts go far to make the following tale\nmore or less conceivable.\n\nTHE RESTRAINING HAND\n\n\"About twenty years ago,\" writes Mrs. Elliot, \"I received some letters\nby post, one of which contained 15 pounds in bank notes.  After\nreading the letters I went into the kitchen with them in my hands.  I\nwas alone at the time. . . .  Having done with the letters, I made an\neffort to throw them into the fire, when I distinctly felt my hand\narrested in the act.  It was as though another hand were gently laid\nupon my own, pressing it back.  Much surprised, I looked at my hand\nand then saw it contained, not the letters I had intended to destroy,\nbut the bank notes, and that the letters were in the other hand.  I\nwas so surprised that I called out, 'Who's here?'\" {80a}\n\nNobody will call this \"the touch of a vanished hand\".  Part of Mrs.\nElliot's mind knew what she was about, and started an unreal but\nveracious feeling to warn her.  We shall come to plenty of Hands not\nso readily disposed of.\n\nNext to touch, the sense most apt to be deceived is hearing.  Every\none who has listened anxiously for an approaching carriage, has often\nheard it come before it came.  In the summer of 1896 the writer, with\na lady and another companion, were standing on the veranda at the back\nof a house in Dumfriesshire, waiting for a cab to take one of them to\nthe station.  They heard a cab arrive and draw up, went round to the\nfront of the house, saw the servant open the door and bring out the\nluggage, but wheeled vehicle there was none in sound or sight.  Yet\nall four persons had heard it, probably by dint of expectation.\n\nTo hear articulate voices where there are none is extremely common in\nmadness, {80b} but not very rare, as Mr. Galton shows, among the sane.\nWhen the voices are veracious, give unknown information, they are in\nthe same case as truthful dreams.  I offer a few from the experience,\nreported to me by himself, of a man of learning whom I shall call a\nBenedictine monk, though that is not his real position in life.\n\nTHE BENEDICTINE'S VOICES\n\nMy friend, as a lad, was in a strait between the choice of two\nprofessions.  He prayed for enlightenment, and soon afterwards heard\nan _internal_ voice, advising a certain course.  \"Did you act on it?\"\nI asked.\n\n\"No; I didn't.  I considered that in my circumstances it did not\ndemand attention.\"\n\nLater, when a man grown, he was in his study merely idling over some\nbooks on the table, when he heard a loud voice from a corner of the\nroom assert that a public event of great importance would occur at a\ngiven date.  It did occur.  About the same time, being abroad, he was\nin great anxiety as to a matter involving only himself.  Of this he\nnever spoke to any one.  On his return to England his mother said,\n\"You were very wretched about so and so\".\n\n\"How on earth did you know?\"\n\n\"I heard ---'s voice telling me.\"\n\nNow --- had died years before, in childhood.\n\nIn these cases the Benedictine's own conjecture and his mother's\naffection probably divined facts, which did not present themselves as\nthoughts in the ordinary way, but took the form of unreal voices.\n\nThere are many examples, as of the girl in her bath who heard a voice\nsay \"Open the door\" four times, did so, then fainted, and only escaped\ndrowning by ringing the bell just before she swooned.\n\nOf course she might not have swooned if she had not been alarmed by\nhearing the voices.  These tales are dull enough, and many voices,\nlike Dr. Johnson's mother's, when he heard her call his name, she\nbeing hundreds of miles away, lead to nothing and are not veracious.\nWhen they are veracious, as in the case of dreams, it may be by sheer\naccident.\n\nIn a similar class are \"warnings\" conveyed by the eye, not by the ear.\nThe Maoris of New Zealand believe that if one sees a body lying across\na path or oneself on the opposite side of a river, it is wiser to try\nanother path and a different ford.\n\nTHE MAN AT THE LIFT\n\nIn the same way, in August, 1890, a lady in a Boston hotel in the dusk\nrang for the lift, walked along the corridor and looked out of a\nwindow, started to run to the door of the lift, saw a man in front of\nit, stopped, and when the lighted lift came up, found that the door\nwas wide open and that, had she run on as she intended, she would have\nfallen down the well.  Here part of her mind may have known that the\ndoor was open, and started a ghost (for there was no real man there)\nto stop her.  Pity that these things do not occur more frequently.\nThey do--in New Zealand. {82}\n\nThese are a few examples of useful veracious waking dreams.  The sort\nof which we hear most are \"wraiths\".  A, when awake, meets B, who is\ndead or dying or quite well at a distance.  The number of these\nstories is legion.  To these we advance, under their Highland title,\n_spirits of the living_.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\n\n\"Spirits of the Living.\"  Mistakes of Identity.  Followed by Arrival\nof Real Person.  \"Arrivals.\"  Mark Twain's Phantom Lady.  Phantom\nDogcart.  Influence of Expectant Attention.  Goethe.  Shelley.  The\nWraith of the Czarina.  Queen Elizabeth's Wraith.  Second Sight.  Case\nat Ballachulish.  Experiments in sending Wraiths.  An \"Astral Body\".\nEvidence discussed.  Miss Russell's Case.  \"Spirits of the Dying.\"\nMaori Examples.  Theory of Chance Coincidence.  In Tavistock Place.\nThe Wynyard Wraith.  Lord Brougham's Wraith Story.  Lord Brougham's\nLogic.  The Dying Mother.  Comparison with the Astral Body.  The\nVision of the Bride.  Animals as affected by the supposed Presence of\nApparitions.  Examples.  Transition to Appearances of the Dead.\n\n\"Spirits of the living\" is the Highland term for the appearances of\npeople who are alive and well--but elsewhere.  The common Highland\nbelief is that they show themselves to second-sighted persons, very\nfrequently before the arrival of a stranger or a visitor, expected or\nunexpected.  Probably many readers have had the experience of meeting\nan acquaintance in the street.  He passes us, and within a hundred\nyards we again meet and talk with our friend.  When he is of very\nmarked appearance, or has any strong peculiarity, the experience is\nrather perplexing.  Perhaps a few bits of hallucination are sprinkled\nover a real object.  This ordinary event leads on to what are called\n\"Arrivals,\" that is when a person is seen, heard and perhaps spoken to\nin a place to which he is travelling, but whither he has not yet\narrived.  Mark Twain gives an instance in his own experience.  At a\nlarge crowded reception he saw approaching him in the throng a lady\nwhom he had known and liked many years before.  When she was near him,\nhe lost sight of her, but met her at supper, dressed as he had seen\nher in the \"levee\".  At that moment she was travelling by railway to\nthe town in which he was. {85a}\n\nA large number of these cases have been printed. {85b}  In one case a\ngentleman and lady from their window saw his brother and sister-in-law\ndrive past, with a horse which they knew had not been out for some\nweeks.  The seers were presently joined by the visitors' daughter, who\nhad met the party on the road, she having just left them at their\nhouse.  Ten minutes later the real pair arrived, horse and all. {85c}\n\nThis last affair is one of several tales of \"Phantom Coaches,\" not\nonly heard but seen, the coach being a coach of the living.  In 1893\nthe author was staying at a Highland castle, when one of the ladies\nobserved to her nephew, \"So you and Susan _did_ drive in the dogcart;\nI saw you pass my window\".  \"No, we didn't; but we spoke of doing it.\"\nThe lady then mentioned minute details of the dress and attitudes of\nher relations as they passed her window, where the drive turned from\nthe hall door through the park; but, in fact, no such journey had been\nmade.  Dr. Hack Tuke published the story of the \"Arrival\" of Dr. Boase\nat his house a quarter of an hour before he came, the people who saw\nhim supposing him to be in Paris. {86}\n\nWhen a person is seen in \"Arrival\" cases before he arrives, the affair\nis not so odd if he is expected.  Undoubtedly, expectation does\nsometimes conjure up phantasms, and the author once saw (as he\nsupposed) a serious accident occur which in fact did not take place,\nthough it seemed unavoidable.\n\nCuriously enough, this creation of phantasms by expectant attention\nseems to be rare where \"ghosts\" are expected.  The author has slept in\nseveral haunted houses, but has never seen what he was led to expect.\nIn many instances, as in \"The Lady in Black\" (infra), a ghost who is a\nfrequent visitor is never seen when people watch for her.  Among the\nmany persons who have had delusions as to the presence of the dead,\nvery few have been hoping, praying for and expecting them.\n\n\"I look for ghosts, but none will force\n   Their way to me:  'Tis falsely said\nThat there was ever intercourse\n   Between the living and the dead,\nFor surely then I should have sight\nOf him I wait for day and night\nWith love and longings infinite.\"\n\nThe Affliction of Margaret has been the affliction of most of us.\nThere are curious historical examples of these appearances of the\nliving.  Goethe declares that he once met himself at a certain place\nin a certain dress, and several years later found himself there in\nthat costume.  Shelley was seen by his friends at Lerici to pass along\na balcony whence there was no exit.  However, he could not be found\nthere.  The story of the wraith of Catherine the Great is variously\nnarrated.  We give it as told by an eye-witness, the Comte de\nRibaupierre, about 1862 to Lady Napier and Ettrick.  The Count, in\n1862, was a very old man, and more than thirty years have passed since\nhe gave the tale to Lady Napier, whose memory retains it in the\nfollowing form:--\n\nTHE WRAITH OF THE CZARINA\n\n\"In the exercise of his duties as one of the pages-in-waiting,\nRibaupierre followed one day his august mistress into the throne-room\nof the palace.  When the Empress, accompanied by the high officers of\nher court and the ladies of her household, came in sight of the chair\nof state which she was about to occupy, she suddenly stopped, and to\nthe horror and astonished awe of her courtiers, she pointed to a\nvisionary being seated on the imperial throne.  The occupant of the\nchair was an exact counterpart of herself.  All saw it and trembled,\nbut none dared to move towards the mysterious presentment of their\nsovereign.\n\n\"After a moment of dead silence the great Catherine raised her voice\nand ordered her guard to advance and fire on the apparition.  The\norder was obeyed, a mirror beside the throne was shattered, the vision\nhad disappeared, and the Empress, with no sign of emotion, took the\nchair from which her semblance had passed away.\"  It is a striking\nbarbaric scene!\n\n\"Spirits of the living\" of this kind are common enough.  In the\nHighlands \"second sight\" generally means a view of an event or\naccident some time before its occurrence.  Thus an old man was sitting\nwith a little boy on a felled tree beside a steep track in a quarry at\nBallachulish.  Suddenly he jerked the boy to one side, and threw\nhimself down on the further side of the tree.  While the boy stared,\nthe old man slowly rose, saying, \"The spirits of the living are strong\nto-day!\"  He had seen a mass of rock dashing along, killing some\nquarrymen and tearing down the path.  The accident occurred next day.\nIt is needless to dwell on second sight, which is not peculiar to\nCelts, though the Highlanders talk more about it than other people.\n\nThese appearances of the living but absent, whether caused by some\nmental action of the person who appears or not, are, at least,\n_unconscious_ on his part. {88}  But a few cases occur in which a\nliving person is said, by a voluntary exertion of mind, to have made\nhimself visible to a friend at a distance.  One case is vouched for by\nBaron von Schrenck-Notzig, a German psychologist, who himself made the\nexperiment with success.  Others are narrated by Dr. Gibotteau.  A\ncurious tale is told by several persons as follows:--\n\nAN \"ASTRAL BODY\"\n\nMr. Sparks and Mr. Cleave, young men of twenty and nineteen, were\naccustomed to \"mesmerise\" each other in their dormitory at Portsmouth,\nwhere they were students of naval engineering.  Mr. Sparks simply\nstared into Mr. Cleave's eyes as he lay on his bed till he \"went off\".\nThe experiments seemed so curious that witnesses were called, Mr.\nDarley and Mr. Thurgood.  On Friday, 15th January, 1886, Mr. Cleave\ndetermined to try to see, when asleep, a young lady at Wandsworth to\nwhom he was in the habit of writing every Sunday.  He also intended,\nif possible, to make _her_ see _him_.  On awaking, he said that he had\nseen her in the dining-room of her house, that she had seemed to grow\nrestless, had looked at him, and then had covered her face with her\nhands.  On Monday he tried again, and he thought he had frightened\nher, as after looking at him for a few minutes she fell back in her\nchair in a kind of faint.  Her little brother was in the room with her\nat the time.  On Tuesday next the young lady wrote, telling Mr. Cleave\nthat she had been startled by seeing him on Friday evening (this is an\nerror), and again on Monday evening, \"much clearer,\" when she nearly\nfainted.\n\nAll this Mr. Sparks wrote to Mr. Gurney in the same week.  He was\ninviting instructions on hypnotic experiments, and \"launched a letter\ninto space,\" having read something vague about Mr. Gurney's studies in\nthe newspapers.  The letter, after some adventures, arrived, and on\n15th March Mr. Cleave wrote his account, Mr. Darley and Mr. Thurgood\ncorroborating as to their presence during the trance and as to Mr.\nCleave's statement when he awoke.  Mr. Cleave added that he made\nexperiments \"for five nights running\" before seeing the lady.  The\nyoung lady's letter of 19th January, 1886, is also produced (postmark,\nPortsmouth, 20th January).  But the lady mentions her _first_ vision\nof Mr. Cleave as on last _Tuesday_ (not Friday), and her second, while\nshe was alone with her little brother, at supper on Monday.  \"I was so\nfrightened that I nearly fainted.\"\n\nThese are all young people.  It may be said that all five were\nconcerned in a complicated hoax on Mr. Gurney.  Nor would such a hoax\nargue any unusual moral obliquity.  Surtees of Mainsforth, in other\nrespects an honourable man, took in Sir Walter Scott with forged\nballads, and never undeceived his friend.  Southey played off a hoax\nwith his book The Doctor.  Hogg, Lockhart, and Wilson, with Allan\nCunningham and many others, were constantly engaged in such\nmystifications, and a \"ghost-hunter\" might seem a fair butt.\n\nBut the very discrepancy in Miss ---'s letter is a proof of fairness.\nHer first vision of Mr. Cleave was on \"Tuesday last\".  Mr. Cleave's\nfirst impression of success was on the Friday following.\n\nBut he had been making the experiment for five nights previous,\nincluding the Tuesday of Miss ---'s letter.  Had the affair been a\nhoax, Miss --- would either have been requested by him to re-write her\nletter, putting Friday for Tuesday, or what is simpler, Mr. Sparks\nwould have adopted her version and written \"Tuesday\" in place of\n\"Friday\" in his first letter to Mr. Gurney.  The young lady,\nnaturally, requested Mr. Cleave not to try his experiment on her\nagain.\n\nA similar case is that of Mrs. Russell, who tried successfully, when\nawake and in Scotland, to appear to one of her family in Germany.  The\nsister corroborates and says, \"Pray don't come appearing to me again\".\n{91a}\n\nThese spirits of the living lead to the subject of spirits of the\ndying.  No kind of tale is so common as that of dying people appearing\nat a distance.  Hundreds have been conscientiously published. {91b}\nThe belief is prevalent among the Maoris of New Zealand, where the\napparition is regarded as a proof of death. {91c}  Now there is\nnothing in savage philosophy to account for this opinion of the\nMaoris.  A man's \"spirit\" leaves his body in dreams, savages think,\nand as dreaming is infinitely more common than death, the Maoris\nshould argue that the appearance is that of a man's spirit wandering\nin his sleep.  However, they, like many Europeans, associate a man's\napparition with his death.  Not being derived from their philosophy,\nthis habit may be deduced from their experience.\n\nAs there are, undeniably, many examples of hallucinatory appearances\nof persons in perfect health and ordinary circumstances, the question\nhas been asked whether there are _more_ cases of an apparition\ncoinciding with death than, according to the doctrine of chances,\nthere ought to be.  Out of about 18,000 answers to questions on this\nsubject, has been deduced the conclusion that the deaths do coincide\nwith the apparitions to an extent beyond mere accident.  Even if we\nhad an empty hallucination for every case coinciding with death, we\ncould not set the coincidences down to mere chance.  As well might we\nsay that if \"at the end of an hour's rifle practice at long-distance\nrange, the record shows that for every shot that has hit the bull's\neye, another has missed the target, therefore the shots that hit the\ntarget did so by accident.\" {92}  But as empty hallucinations are more\nlikely to be forgotten than those which coincide with a death; as\nexaggeration creeps in, as the collectors of evidence are naturally\ninclined to select and question people whom they know to have a good\nstory to tell, the evidence connecting apparitions, voices, and so on\nwith deaths is not likely to be received with favour.\n\nOne thing must be remembered as affecting the theory that the\ncoincidence between the wraith and the death is purely an accident.\nEverybody dreams and out of the innumerable dreams of mankind, a few\nmust hit the mark by a fluke.  But _hallucinations_ are not nearly so\ncommon as dreams.  Perhaps, roughly speaking, one person in ten has\nhad what he believes to be a waking hallucination.  Therefore, so to\nspeak, compared with dreams, but a small number of shots of this kind\nare fired.  Therefore, bull's eyes (the coincidence between an\nappearance and a death) are infinitely less likely to be due to chance\nin the case of waking hallucinations than in the case of dreams, which\nall mankind are firing off every night of their lives.  Stories of\nthese coincidences between appearances and deaths are as common as\nthey are dull.  Most people come across them in the circle of their\nfriends.  They are all very much alike, and make tedious reading.  We\ngive a few which have some picturesque features.\n\nIN TAVISTOCK PLACE {93}\n\n\"In the latter part of the autumn of 1878, between half-past three and\nfour in the morning, I was leisurely walking home from the house of a\nsick friend.  A middle-aged woman, apparently a nurse, was slowly\nfollowing, going in the same direction.  We crossed Tavistock Square\ntogether, and emerged simultaneously into Tavistock Place.  The\nstreets and squares were deserted, the morning bright and calm, my\nhealth excellent, nor did I suffer from anxiety or fatigue.  A man\nsuddenly appeared, striding up Tavistock Place, coming towards me, and\ngoing in a direction opposite to mine.  When first seen he was\nstanding exactly in front of my own door (5 Tavistock Place).  Young\nand ghastly pale, he was dressed in evening clothes, evidently made by\na foreign tailor.  Tall and slim, he walked with long measured strides\nnoiselessly.  A tall white hat, covered thickly with black crape, and\nan eyeglass, completed the costume of this strange form.  The\nmoonbeams falling on the corpse-like features revealed a face well\nknown to me, that of a friend and relative.  The sole and only person\nin the street beyond myself and this being was the woman already\nalluded to.  She stopped abruptly, as if spell-bound, then rushing\ntowards the man, she gazed intently and with horror unmistakable on\nhis face, which was now upturned to the heavens and smiling ghastly.\nShe indulged in her strange contemplation but during very few seconds,\nthen with extraordinary and unexpected speed for her weight and age\nshe ran away with a terrific shriek and yell.  This woman never have I\nseen or heard of since, and but for her presence I could have\nexplained the incident:  called it, say, subjection of the mental\npowers to the domination of physical reflex action, and the man's\npresence could have been termed a false impression on the retina.\n\n\"A week after this event, news of this very friend's death reached me.\nIt occurred on the morning in question.  From the family I learned\nthat according to the rites of the Greek Church and the custom of the\ncountry he resided in, he was buried in his evening clothes made\nabroad by a foreign tailor, and strange to say, he wore goloshes over\nhis boots, according also to the custom of the country he died in. . .\n.  When in England, he lived in Tavistock Place, and occupied my rooms\nduring my absence.\" {95a}\n\nTHE WYNYARD WRAITH {95b}\n\n\"In the month of November (1785 or 1786), Sir John Sherbrooke and\nColonel Wynyard were sitting before dinner in their barrack room at\nSydney Cove, in America.  It was duskish, and a candle was placed on a\ntable at a little distance.  A figure dressed in plain clothes and a\ngood round hat, passed gently between the above people and the fire.\nWhile passing, Sir J. Sherbrooke exclaimed, 'God bless my soul, who's\nthat?'\n\n\"Almost at the same moment Colonel W. said, 'That's my brother John\nWynyard, and I am sure he is dead'.  Colonel W. was much agitated, and\ncried and sobbed a great deal.  Sir John said, 'The fellow has a\ndevilish good hat; I wish I had it'.  (Hats were not to be got there\nand theirs were worn out.)  They immediately got up (Sir John was on\ncrutches, having broken his leg), took a candle and went into the\nbedroom, into which the figure had entered.  They searched the bed and\nevery corner of the room to no effect; the windows were fastened up\nwith mortar. . . .\n\n\"They received no communication from England for about five months,\nwhen a letter from Mr. Rush, the surgeon (Coldstream Guards),\nannounced the death of John Wynyard at the moment, as near as could be\nascertained, when the figure appeared.  In addition to this\nextraordinary circumstance, Sir John told me that two years and a half\nafterwards he was walking with Lilly Wynyard (a brother of Colonel W.)\nin London, and seeing somebody on the other side of the way, he\nrecognised, he thought, the person who had appeared to him and Colonel\nWynyard in America.  Lilly Wynyard said that the person pointed out\nwas a Mr. Eyre (Hay?), that he and John Wynyard were frequently\nmistaken for each other, and that money had actually been paid to this\nMr. Eyre in mistake.\"\n\nA famous tale of an appearance is Lord Brougham's.  His Lordship was\nnot reckoned precisely a veracious man; on the other hand, this was\nnot the kind of fable he was likely to tell.  He was brought up under\nthe regime of common-sense.  \"On all such subjects my father was very\nsceptical,\" he says.  To disbelieve Lord Brougham we must suppose\neither that he wilfully made a false entry in his diary in 1799, or\nthat in preparing his Autobiography in 1862, he deliberately added a\nfalsehood--and then explained his own marvel away!\n\nLORD BROUGHAM'S STORY\n\n\"December 19, 1799.\n\n\" . . . At one in the morning, arriving at a decent inn (in Sweden),\nwe decided to stop for the night, and found a couple of comfortable\nrooms.  Tired with the cold of yesterday, I was glad to take advantage\nof a hot bath before I turned in.  And here a most remarkable thing\nhappened to me--so remarkable that I must tell the story from the\nbeginning.\n\n\"After I left the High School, I went with G---, my most intimate\nfriend, to attend the classes in the University. . . .  We actually\ncommitted the folly of drawing up an agreement, written with our\nblood, to the effect that whichever of us died the first should appear\nto the other, and thus solve any doubts we had entertained of 'the\nlife after death'.  G--- went to India, years passed, and,\" says Lord\nBrougham, \"I had nearly forgotten his existence.  I had taken, as I\nhave said, a warm bath, and while lying in it and enjoying the comfort\nof the heat, I turned my head round, looking towards the chair on\nwhich I had deposited my clothes, as I was about to get out of the\nbath.  On the chair sat G---, looking calmly at me.  How I got out of\nthe bath I know not, but on recovering my senses I found myself\nsprawling on the floor.  The apparition, or whatever it was that had\ntaken the likeness of G---, had disappeared. . . .  So strongly was I\naffected by it that I have here written down the whole history, with\nthe date, 19th December, and all the particulars as they are now fresh\nbefore me.  No doubt I had fallen asleep\" (he has just said that he\nwas awake and on the point of leaving the bath), \"and that the\nappearance presented so distinctly to my eyes was a dream I cannot for\na moment doubt. . . .\"\n\nOn 16th October, 1862, Lord Brougham copied this extract for his\nAutobiography, and says that on his arrival in Edinburgh he received a\nletter from India, announcing that G--- had died on 19th December.  He\nremarks \"singular coincidence!\" and adds that, considering the vast\nnumber of dreams, the number of coincidences is perhaps fewer than a\nfair calculation of chances would warrant us to expect.\n\nThis is a concession to common-sense, and argues an ignorance of the\nfact that sane and (apparently) waking men may have hallucinations.\nOn the theory that we _may_ have inappreciable moments of sleep when\nwe think ourselves awake, it is not an ordinary but an extraordinary\ncoincidence that Brougham should have had that peculiar moment of the\n\"dream\" of G--- on the day or night of G---'s death, while the\ncircumstance that he had made a compact with G--- multiplies the odds\nagainst accident in a ratio which mathematicians may calculate.\nBrougham was used to dreams, like other people; he was not shocked by\nthem.  This \"dream\" \"produced such a shock that I had no inclination\nto talk about it\".  Even on Brougham's showing, then, this dream was a\nthing unique in his experience, and not one of the swarm of visions of\nsleep.  Thus his including it among these, while his whole language\nshows that he himself did not really reckon it among these, is an\nexample of the fallacies of common-sense.  He completes his fallacy by\nsaying, \"It is not much more wonderful than that a person whom we had\nno reason to expect should appear to us at the very moment we had been\nthinking or speaking of him\".  But Lord Brougham had _not_ been\nspeaking or thinking of G---; \"there had been nothing to call him to\nmy recollection,\" he says.  To give his logic any value, he should\nconstantly when (as far as he knew) awake, have had dreams that\n\"shocked\" him.  Then _one_ coincidence would have had no assignable\ncause save ordinary accident.\n\nIf Lord Brougham fabled in 1799 or in 1862, he did so to make a\n\"sensation\".  And then he tried to undo it by arguing that his\nexperience was a thoroughly commonplace affair.\n\nWe now give a very old story, \"The Dying Mother\".  If the reader will\ncompare it with Mr. Cleave's case, \"An Astral Body,\" in this chapter,\nhe will be struck by the resemblance.  Mr. Cleave and Mrs. Goffe were\nboth in a trance.  Both wished to see persons at a distance.  Both\nsaw, and each was seen, Mrs. Goffe by her children's nurse; Mr. Cleave\nby the person whom he wished to see, but _not_ by a small boy also\npresent.\n\nTHE DYING MOTHER {101}\n\n\"Mary, the wife of John Goffe of Rochester, being afflicted with a\nlong illness, removed to her father's house at West Mulling, about\nnine miles from her own.  There she died on 4th June, this present\nyear, 1691.\n\n\"The day before her departure (death) she grew very impatiently\ndesirous to see her two children, whom she had left at home to the\ncare of a nurse.  She prayed her husband to 'hire a horse, for she\nmust go home and die with the children'.  She was too ill to be moved,\nbut 'a minister who lives in the town was with her at ten o'clock that\nnight, to whom she expressed good hopes in the mercies of God and a\nwillingness to die'.  'But' said she, 'it is my misery that I cannot\nsee my children.'\n\n\"Between one and two o'clock in the morning, she fell into a trance.\nOne, widow Turner, who watched with her that night, says that her eyes\nwere open and fixed and her jaw fallen.  Mrs. Turner put her hand upon\nher mouth and nostrils, but could perceive no breath.  She thought her\nto be in a fit; and doubted whether she were dead or alive.\n\n\"The next morning the dying woman told her mother that she had been at\nhome with her children. . . . 'I was with them last night when I was\nasleep.'\n\n\"The nurse at Rochester, widow Alexander by name, affirms, and says\nshe will take her oath on't before a Magistrate and receive the\nsacrament upon it, that a little before two o'clock that morning she\nsaw the likeness of the said Mary Goffe come out of the next chamber\n(where the elder child lay in a bed by itself) the door being left\nopen, and stood by her bedside for about a quarter of an hour; the\nyounger child was there lying by her.  Her eyes moved and her mouth\nwent, but she said nothing.  The nurse, moreover, says that she was\nperfectly awake; it was then daylight, being one of the longest days\nin the year.  She sat up in bed and looked steadfastly on the\napparition.  In that time she heard the bridge clock strike two, and a\nwhile after said, 'In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, what\nart thou?'  Thereupon the apparition removed and went away; she\nslipped on her clothes and followed, but what became on't she cannot\ntell.\n\n\"Mrs. Alexander then walked out of doors till six, when she persuaded\nsome neighbours to let her in.  She told her adventure; they failed to\npersuade her that she had dreamed it.  On the same day the neighbour's\nwife, Mrs. Sweet, went to West Mulling, saw Mrs. Goffe before her\ndeath, and heard from Mrs. Goffe's mother the story of the daughter's\ndream of her children, Mrs. Sweet not having mentioned the nurse's\nstory of the apparition.\"  That poor Mrs. Goffe walked to Rochester\nand returned undetected, a distance of eighteen miles is difficult to\nbelieve.\n\nGoethe has an obiter dictum on the possibility of intercommunion\nwithout the aid of the ordinary senses, between the souls of lovers.\nSomething of the kind is indicated in anecdotes of dreams dreamed in\ncommon by husband and wife, but, in such cases, it may be urged that\nthe same circumstance, or the same noise or other disturbing cause,\nmay beget the same dream in both.  A better instance is\n\nTHE VISION OF THE BRIDE\n\nColonel Meadows Taylor writes, in The Story of my Life (vol. ii., p.\n32):  \"The determination (to live unmarried) was the result of a very\ncurious and strange incident that befel me during one of my marches to\nHyderabad.  I have never forgotten it, and it returns to this day to\nmy memory with a strangely vivid effect that I can neither repel nor\nexplain.  I purposely withhold the date of the year.  In my very early\nlife I had been deeply and devotedly attached to one in England, and\nonly relinquished the hope of one day winning her when the terrible\norder came out that no furlough to Europe would be granted.\n\n\"One evening I was at the village of Dewas Kudea, after a very long\nafternoon and evening march from Muktul, and I lay down very weary;\nbut the barking of village dogs, the baying of jackals and over-\nfatigue and heat prevented sleep, and I was wide awake and restless.\nSuddenly, for my tent door was wide open, I saw the face and figure so\nfamiliar to me, but looking older, and with a sad and troubled\nexpression; the dress was white and seemed covered with a profusion of\nlace and glistened in the bright moonlight.  The arms were stretched\nout, and a low plaintive cry of 'Do not let me go!  Do not let me go!'\nreached me.  I sprang forward, but the figure receded, growing fainter\nand fainter till I could see it no more, but the low plaintive tones\nstill sounded.  I had run barefooted across the open space where my\ntents were pitched, very much to the astonishment of the sentry on\nguard, but I returned to my tent without speaking to him.  I wrote to\nmy father.  I wished to know whether there were any hope for me.  He\nwrote back to me these words:  'Too late, my dear son--on the very day\nof the vision you describe to me, A. was married'.\"\n\nThe colonel did not keep his determination not to marry, for his Life\nis edited by his daughter, who often heard her father mention the\nincident, \"precisely in the same manner, and exactly as it is in the\nbook\". {103}\n\nIf thinking of friends and lovers, lost or dead, could bring their\nforms and voices before the eye and ear of flesh, there would be a\nworld of hallucinations around us.  \"But it wants heaven-sent moments\nfor this skill,\" and few bridal nights send a vision and a voice to\nthe bed of a wakeful lover far away.\n\nStories of this kind, appearances of the living or dying really at a\ndistance, might be multiplied to any extent.  They are all capable of\nexplanation, if we admit the theory of telepathy, of a message sent by\nan unknown process from one living man's mind to another.  Where more\nthan one person shares the vision, we may suppose that the influence\ncomes directly from A to B, C and D, or comes from A to B, and is by\nhim unconsciously \"wired\" on to B and C, or is \"suggested\" to them by\nB's conduct or words.\n\nIn that case animals may be equally affected, thus, if B seems\nalarmed, that may frighten his dog, or the alarm of a dog, caused by\nsome noise or smell, heard or smelt by him, may frighten B, C and D,\nand make one or all of them see a ghost.\n\nPopular opinion is strongly in favour of beasts seeing ghosts.  The\npeople of St. Kilda, according to Martin, held that cows shared the\nvisions of second-sighted milk-maids.  Horses are said to shy on the\nscene of murders.  Scott's horse ran away (home) when Sir Walter saw\nthe bogle near Ashiestiel.  In a case given later the dog shut up in a\nroom full of unexplained noises, yelled and whined.  The same dog (an\nintimate friend of my own) bristled up his hair and growled before his\nmaster saw the Grey Lady.  The Rev. J. G. Wood gives a case of a cat\nwhich nearly went mad when his mistress saw an apparition.  Jeremy\nTaylor tells of a dog which got quite used to a ghost that often\nappeared to his master, and used to follow it.  In \"The Lady in\nBlack,\" a dog would jump up and fawn on the ghost and then run away in\na fright.  Mr. Wesley's mastiff was much alarmed by the family ghost.\nNot to multiply cases, dogs and other animals are easily affected by\nwhatever it is that makes people think a ghost is present, or by the\nconduct of the human beings on these occasions.\n\nAbsurd as the subject appears, there are stories of the ghosts of\nanimals.  These may be discussed later; meanwhile we pass from\nappearances of the living or dying to stories of appearances of the\ndead.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\n\nTransition to Appearances of the Dead.  Obvious Scientific\nDifficulties.  Purposeless Character of Modern Ghosts.  Theory of Dead\nMen's Dreams.  Illustrated by Sleep-walking House-maid.  Purposeful\nCharacter of the Old Ghost Stories.  Probable Causes of the Difference\nbetween Old and New Ghost Stories.  Only the most Dramatic were\nrecorded.  Or the Tales were embellished or invented.  Practical\nReasons for inventing them.  The Daemon of Spraiton.  Sources of Story\nof Sir George Villier's Ghost.  Clarendon.  Lilly, Douch.  Wyndham.\nWyndham's Letter.  Sir Henry Wotton.  Izaak Walton.  Anthony Wood.  A\nWotton Dream proved Legendary.  The Ghost that appeared to Lord\nLyttleton.  His Lordship's Own Ghost.\n\nAPPEARANCES OF THE DEAD\n\nWe now pass beyond the utmost limits to which a \"scientific\" theory of\nthings ghostly can be pushed.  Science admits, if asked, that it does\nnot know everything.  It is not _inconceivable_ that living minds may\ncommunicate by some other channel than that of the recognised senses.\nScience now admits the fact of hypnotic influence, though, sixty years\nago, Braid was not allowed to read a paper on it before the British\nAssociation.  Even now the topic is not welcome.  But perhaps only one\neminent man of science declares that hypnotism is _all_ imposture and\nmalobservation.  Thus it is not wholly beyond the scope of fancy to\nimagine that some day official science may glance at the evidence for\n\"telepathy\".\n\nBut the stories we have been telling deal with living men supposed to\nbe influencing living men.  When the dead are alleged to exercise a\nsimilar power, we have to suppose that some consciousness survives the\ngrave, and manifests itself by causing hallucinations among the\nliving.  Instances of this have already been given in \"The Ghost and\nthe Portrait,\" \"The Bright Scar\" and \"Riding Home after Mess\".  These\nwere adduced as examples of _veracity_ in hallucinations.  Each\nappearance gave information to the seer which he did not previously\npossess.  In the first case, the lady who saw the soldier and the\nsuppliant did not know of their previous existence and melancholy\nadventure.  In the second, the brother did not know that his dead\nsister's face had been scratched.  In the third, the observer did not\nknow that Lieutenant B. had grown a beard and acquired a bay pony with\nblack mane and tail.  But though the appearances were _veracious_,\nthey were _purposeless_, and again, as in each case the information\nexisted in living minds, it _may_ have been wired on from them.\n\nThus the doctrine of telepathy puts a ghost of the dead in a great\nquandary.  If he communicates no verifiable information, he may be\nexplained as a mere empty illusion.  If he does yield fresh\ninformation, and if that is known to any living mind, he and his\nintelligence may have been wired on from that mind.  His only chance\nis to communicate facts which are proved to be true, facts which\nnobody living knew before.  Now it is next to impossible to\ndemonstrate that the facts communicated were absolutely unknown to\neverybody.\n\nFar, however, from conveying unknown intelligence, most ghosts convey\nnone at all, and appear to have no purpose whatever.\n\nIt will be observed that there was no traceable reason why the girl\nwith a scar should appear to Mr. G., or the soldier and suppliant to\nMrs. M., or Lieutenant B. to General Barker.  The appearances came in\na vague, casual, aimless way, just as the living and healthy clergyman\nappeared to the diplomatist.  On St. Augustine's theory the dead\npersons who appeared may have known no more about the matter than did\nthe living clergyman.  It is not even necessary to suppose that the\ndead man was dreaming about the living person to whom, or about the\nplace in which, he appeared.  But on the analogy of the tales in which\na dream or thought of the living seems to produce a hallucination of\ntheir presence in the minds of other and distant living people, so a\ndream of the dead may (it is urged) have a similar effect if \"in that\nsleep of death such dreams may come\".  The idea occurred to\nShakespeare!  In any case the ghosts of our stories hitherto have been\nso aimless and purposeless as to resemble what we might imagine a dead\nman's dream to be.\n\nThis view of the case (that a \"ghost\" may be a reflection of a dead\nman's dream) will become less difficult to understand if we ask\nourselves what natural thing most resembles the common idea of a\nghost.  You are reading alone at night, let us say, the door opens and\na human figure glides into the room.  To you it pays no manner of\nattention; it does not answer if you speak; it may trifle with some\nobject in the chamber and then steal quietly out again.\n\n_It is the House-maid walking in her Sleep_.\n\nThis perfectly accountable appearance, in its aimlessness, its\nunconsciousness, its irresponsiveness, is undeniably just like the\ncommon notion of a ghost.  Now, if ordinary ghosts are not of flesh\nand blood, like the sleep-walking house-maid, yet are as irresponsive,\nas unconscious, and as vaguely wandering as she, then (if the dead are\nsomewhat) a ghost _may_ be a hallucination produced in the living by\nthe _unconscious_ action of the mind of the dreaming dead.  The\nconception is at least conceivable.  If adopted, merely for argument's\nsake, it would first explain the purposeless behaviour of ghosts, and\nsecondly, relieve people who see ghosts of the impression that they\nsee \"spirits\".  In the Scotch phrase the ghost obviously \"is not all\nthere,\" any more than the sleep walker is intellectually \"all there\".\nThis incomplete, incoherent presence is just what might be expected if\na dreaming disembodied mind could affect an embodied mind with a\nhallucination.\n\nBut the good old-fashioned ghost stories are usually of another type.\nThe robust and earnest ghosts of our ancestors \"had their own purpose\nsun-clear before them,\" as Mr. Carlyle would have said.  They knew\nwhat they wanted, asked for it, and saw that they got it.\n\nAs a rule their bodies were unburied, and so they demanded sepulture;\nor they had committed a wrong, and wished to make restitution; or they\nhad left debts which they were anxious to pay; or they had advice, or\nwarnings, or threats to communicate; or they had been murdered, and\nwere determined to bring their assassins to the gibbet.\n\nWhy, we may ask, were the old ghost stories so different from the new?\nWell, first they were not all different.  Again, probably only the\nmore dramatic tales were as a rule recorded.  Thirdly, many of the\nstories may have been either embellished--a fancied purpose being\nattributed to a purposeless ghost--or they may even have been invented\nto protect witnesses who gave information against murderers.  Who\ncould disobey a ghost?\n\nIn any case the old ghost stories are much more dramatic than the new.\nTo them we turn, beginning with the appearances of Mr. and Mrs. Furze\nat Spraiton, in Devonshire, in 1682.  Our author is Mr. Richard Bovet,\nin his Pandaemonium, or the Devil's Cloister opened (1683).  The\nmotive of the late Mr. Furze was to have some small debts paid; his\nwife's spectre was influenced by a jealousy of Mr. Furze's spectre's\nrelations with another lady.\n\nTHE DAEMON OF SPRAITON IN DEVON {111} ANNO 1682\n\n\"About the month of November in the year 1682, in the parish of\nSpraiton, in the county of Devon, one Francis Fey (servant to Mr.\nPhilip Furze) being in a field near the dwelling-house of his said\nmaster, there appeared unto him the _resemblance_ of an _aged\ngentleman_ like his master's father, with a pole or staff in his hand,\nresembling that he was wont to carry when living to kill the moles\nwithal.  The _spectrum_ approached near the young man, whom you may\nimagin not a little surprized at the _appearance_ of one that he knew\nto be dead, but the _spectrum bid him not be afraid of him, but tell\nhis master_ (who was his son) that several _legacies which by his\ntestament he had bequeathed were unpaid, naming ten shillings to one\nand ten shillings to another, both which persons he named_ to the\nyoung man, who replyed that the party he last named was dead, and so\nit could not be paid to him.  The ghost answered _he knew that, but it\nmust be paid to the next relation_, whom he also named.  The spectrum\nlikewise ordered him to carry twenty shillings to a gentlewoman,\nsister to the deceased, living near Totness in the said county, and\npromised, if these things were performed, to trouble him no further;\nbut at the same time the _spectrum_, speaking of his _second wife_\n(who was also dead) _called her wicked woman_, though the gentleman\nwho writ the letter knew her and esteemed her a very good woman.  And\n(having thus related him his mind) the spectrum left the young man,\nwho according to the _direction_ of the _spirit_ took care to see the\nsmall legacies satisfied, and carried the twenty shillings that was\nappointed to be paid the gentlewoman near Totness, but she utterly\nrefused to receive it, being sent her (as she said) from the devil.\nThe same night the young man lodging at her house, the aforesaid\nspectrum appeared to him again; whereupon the young man challenged his\n_promise not to trouble him any more_, saying he had performed all\naccording to his appointment, but that the gentlewoman, his sister,\nwould not receive the money.\n\n\"_To which the spectrum replied that was true indeed_; but withal\n_directed_ the young man to ride to Totness and buy for her _a ring of\nthat value, which the spirit said she would accept of_, which being\nprovided accordingly, she received.  Since the performance of which\nthe ghost or apparition of the old gentleman hath seemed to be at\nrest, having never given the young man any further trouble.\n\n\"But the next day after having delivered the ring, the young man was\nriding home to his master's house, accompanyed by a servant of the\ngentlewoman's near Totness, and near about the time of their entrance\n(or a little before they came) into the parish of Spraiton aforesaid,\nthere appeared to be upon the horse behind the young man, the\nresemblance of the _second wife_ of the old gentleman spoken of\nbefore.\n\n\"This daemon often threw the young man off his horse, and cast him\nwith such violence to the ground as was great astonishment, not only\nto the gentlewoman's servant (with him), but to divers others who were\nspectators of the frightful action, the ground resounding with great\nnoise by reason of the incredible force with which he was cast upon\nit.  At his coming into his master's yard, the horse which he rid,\nthough very poor and out of case, leaped at one spring twenty-five\nfoot, to the amazement of all that saw it.  Soon after the she-spectre\nshewed herself to divers in the house, viz., the aforesaid young man,\n_Mistress Thomasin Gidly, Ann Langdon_, born in that parish, and a\nlittle child, which, by reason of the troublesomeness of the spirit,\nthey were fain to remove from that house.  She appeared sometimes in\nher own shape, sometimes in forms very horrid; now and then like a\nmonstrous dog belching out fire; at another time it flew out at the\nwindow, in the shape of a horse, carrying with it only one pane of\nglass and a small piece of iron.\n\n\"One time the young man's head was thrust into a very strait place\nbetwixt a bed's head and a wall, and forced by the strength of divers\nmen to be removed thence, and that not without being much hurt and\nbruised, so that much blood appeared about it:  upon this it was\nadvised he should be bleeded, to prevent any ill accident that might\ncome of the bruise; after bleeding, the ligature or binder of his arm\nwas removed from thence and conveyed about his middle, where it was\nstrained with such violence that the girding had almost stopp'd his\nbreath and kill'd him, and being cut asunder it made _a strange and\ndismal noise_, so that the standers by were affrighted at it.  At\ndivers other times he hath been in danger to be strangled with cravats\nand handkerchiefs that he hath worn about his neck, which have been\ndrawn so close that with the sudden violence he hath near been\nchoaked, and hardly escaped death.\n\n\"The spectre hath shewed great offence at the perriwigs which the\nyoung man used to wear, for they are often torn from his head after a\nvery strange manner; one that he esteemed above the rest he put in a\nsmall box, and that box he placed in another, which he set against the\nwall of his chamber, placing a joint-stool with other weight a top of\nit, but in short time the boxes were broken in sunder and the perriwig\nrended into many small parts and tatters.  Another time, lying in his\nmaster's chamber with his perriwig on his head, to secure it from\ndanger, within a little time it was torn from him and reduced into\nvery small fragments.  At another time one of his shoe-strings was\nobserved (without the assistance of any hand) to come of its own\naccord out of its shoe and fling itself to the other side of the room;\nthe other was crawling after it, but a maid espying that, with her\nhand drew it out, and it strangely _clasp'd_ and _curl'd_ about her\nhand like a living _eel_ or _serpent_; this is testified by a lady of\nconsiderable quality, too great for exception, who was an eye-witness.\nThe same lady shewed Mr. C. one of the young man's gloves, which was\ntorn in his pocket while she was by, which is so dexterously tatter'd\nand so artificially torn that it is conceived a cutler could not have\ncontrived an instrument to have laid it abroad so accurately, and all\nthis was done in the pocket in the compass of one minute.  It is\nfurther observable that if the aforesaid young man, or another person\nwho is a servant maid in the house, do wear their own clothes, they\nare certainly torn in pieces on their backs, but if the clothes belong\nto any other, they are not injured after that manner.\n\n\"Many other strange and fantastical freaks have been done by the said\ndaemon or spirit in the view of divers persons; a barrel of salt of\nconsiderable quantity hath been observed to march from room to room\nwithout any human assistance.\n\n\"An hand-iron hath seemed to lay itself cross over-thwart a pan of\nmilk that hath been scalding over the fire, and two flitches of bacon\nhave of their own accord descended from the chimney where they were\nhung, and placed themselves upon the hand-iron.\n\n\"When the spectre appears in resemblance of her own person, she seems\nto be habited in the same cloaths and dress which the gentlewoman of\nthe house (her daughter-in-law) hath on at the same time.  Divers\ntimes the feet and legs of the young man aforesaid have been so\nentangled about his neck that he hath been loosed with great\ndifficulty; sometimes they have been so twisted about the frames of\nchairs and stools that they have hardly been set at liberty.  But one\nof the most considerable instances of the malice of the spirit against\nthe young man happened on Easter Eve, when Mrs. C. the relator, was\npassing by the door of the house, and it was thus:--\n\n\"When the young man was returning from his labour, he was taken up by\nthe _skirt_ of his _doublet_ by this _female daemon_, and carried a\nheight into the air.  He was soon missed by his Master and some other\nservants that had been at labour with him, and after diligent enquiry\nno news could be heard of him, until at length (near half an hour\nafter) he was heard singing and whistling in a bog or quagmire, where\nthey found him in a kind of trance or _extatick fit_, to which he hath\nsometimes been accustomed (but whether before the affliction he met\nwith from this spirit I am not certain).  He was affected much after\nsuch sort, as at the time of those _fits_, so that the people did not\ngive that _attention_ and _regard_ to what he said as at other times;\nbut when he returned again to himself (which was about an hour after)\nhe solemnly protested to them that the daemon had carried him so high\nthat his master's house seemed to him to be but _as a hay-cock_, and\n_that during all that time he was in perfect sense, and prayed to\nAlmighty God not to suffer the devil to destroy him_; and that he was\nsuddenly set down in that quagmire.\n\nThe workmen found one shoe on one side of his master's house, and the\nother on the other side, and in the morning espied his perriwig\nhanging on the top of a tree; by which it appears he had been carried\na considerable height, and that what he told them was not a fiction.\n\n\"After this it was observed that that part of the young man's body\nwhich had been on the mud in the quagmire was somewhat benummbed and\nseemingly deader than the other, whereupon the following _Saturday_,\nwhich was the day before _Low Sunday_, he was carried to _Crediton,\nalias Kirton_, to be bleeded, which being done accordingly, and the\ncompany having left him for some little space, at their return they\nfound him in one of his fits, with his _forehead_ much _bruised_, and\n_swoln_ to a _great bigness_, none being able to guess how it\nhappened, until his recovery from that _fit_, when upon enquiry he\ngave them this account of it:  _that a bird had with great swiftness\nand force flown in at the window with a stone in its beak, which it\nhad dashed against his forehead, which had occasioned the swelling\nwhich they saw_.\n\n\"The people much wondering at the strangeness of the accident,\ndiligently sought the stone, and under the place where he sat they\nfound not such a stone as they expected but a weight of brass or\ncopper, which it seems the daemon had made use of on that occasion to\ngive the poor young man that hurt in his forehead.\n\n\"The persons present were at the trouble to break it to pieces, every\none taking a part and preserving it in memory of so strange an\naccident.  After this the spirit continued to molest the young man in\na very severe and rugged manner, often handling him with great\nextremity, and whether it hath yet left its violences to him, or\nwhether the young man be yet alive, I can have no certain account.\"\n\nI leave the reader to consider of the extraordinary strangeness of the\nrelation.\n\nThe reader, considering the exceeding strangeness of the relation,\nwill observe that we have now reached \"great swingeing falsehoods,\"\neven if that opinion had not hitherto occurred to his mind.  But if he\nthinks that such stories are no longer told, and even sworn to on\nBible oath, he greatly deceives himself.  In the chapter on \"Haunted\nHouses\" he will find statements just as hard narrated of the years\n1870 and 1882.  In these, however, the ghosts had no purpose but\nmischief. {118}\n\nWe take another \"ghost with a purpose\".\n\nSIR GEORGE VILLIERS' GHOST.\n\nThe variations in the narratives of Sir George Villiers' appearance to\nan old servant of his, or old protege, and the warning communicated by\nthis man to Villiers' son, the famous Duke of Buckingham, are curious\nand instructive.  The tale is first told in print by William Lilly,\nthe astrologer, in the second part of a large tract called Monarchy or\nNo Monarchy in England (London, 1651), twenty-three years after\nBuckingham's murder.  But while prior in publication, Lilly's story\nwas probably written after, though independent of Lord Clarendon's, in\nthe first book of his History of the Rebellion, begun on 18th March,\n1646, that is within eighteen years of the events.  Clarendon, of\ncourse, was in a position to know what was talked of at the time.\nNext, we have a letter of Mr. Douch to Glanvil, undated, but written\nafter the Restoration, and, finally, an original manuscript of 1652.\n\nDouch makes the warning arrive \"some few days\" before the murder of\nBuckingham, and says that the ghost of Sir George, \"in his morning\ngown,\" bade one Parker tell Buckingham to abandon the expedition to La\nRochelle or expect to be murdered.  On the third time of appearing the\nvision pulled a long knife from under his gown, as a sign of the death\nawaiting Buckingham.  He also communicated a \"private token\" to\nParker, the \"percipient,\" Sir George's old servant.  On each occasion\nof the appearance, Parker was reading at midnight.  Parker, _after_\nthe murder, told one Ceeley, who told it to a clergyman, who told\nDouch, who told Glanvil.\n\nIn Lilly's version the ghost had a habit of walking in Parker's room,\nand finally bade him tell Buckingham to abstain from certain company,\n\"or else he will come to destruction, and that suddenly\".  Parker,\nthinking he had dreamed, did nothing; the ghost reappeared, and\ncommunicated a secret \"which he (Buckingham) knows that none in the\nworld ever knew but myself and he\".  The duke, on hearing the story\nfrom Parker, backed by the secret, was amazed, but did not alter his\nconduct.  On the third time the spectre produced the knife, but at\n_this_ information the duke only laughed.  Six weeks later he was\nstabbed.  Douch makes the whole affair pass immediately before the\nassassination.  \"And Mr. Parker died soon after,\" as the ghost had\nforetold to him.\n\nFinally, Clarendon makes the appearances set in six months before\nFelton slew the duke.  The percipient, unnamed, was in bed.  The\nnarrative now develops new features; the token given on the ghost's\nthird coming obviously concerns Buckingham's mother, the Countess, the\n\"one person more\" who knew the secret communicated.  The ghost\nproduces no knife from under his gown; no warning of Buckingham's\ndeath by violence is mentioned.  A note in the MS. avers that\nClarendon himself had papers bearing on the subject, and that he got\nhis information from Sir Ralph Freeman (who introduced the unnamed\npercipient to the duke), and from some of Buckingham's servants, \"who\nwere informed of much of it before the murder of the duke\".  Clarendon\nadds that, in general, \"no man looked on relations of that sort with\nless reverence and consideration\" than he did.  This anecdote he\nselects out of \"many stories scattered abroad at the time\" as \"upon a\nbetter foundation of credit\".  The percipient was an officer in the\nking's wardrobe at Windsor, \"of a good reputation for honesty and\ndiscretion,\" and aged about fifty.  He was bred at a school in Sir\nGeorge's parish, and as a boy was kindly treated by Sir George, \"whom\nafterwards he never saw\".  On first beholding the spectre in his room,\nthe seer recognised Sir George's costume, then antiquated.  At last\nthe seer went to Sir Ralph Freeman, who introduced him to the duke on\na hunting morning at Lambeth Bridge.  They talked earnestly apart,\nobserved by Sir Ralph, Clarendon's informant.  The duke seemed\nabstracted all day; left the field early, sought his mother, and after\na heated conference of which the sounds reached the ante-room, went\nforth in visible trouble and anger, a thing never before seen in him\nafter talk with his mother.  She was found \"overwhelmed with tears and\nin the highest agony imaginable\".  \"It is a notorious truth\" that,\nwhen told of his murder, \"she seemed not in the least degree\nsurprised.\"\n\nThe following curious manuscript account of the affair is, after the\nprefatory matter, the copy of a letter dated 1652.  There is nothing\nsaid of a ghostly knife, the name of the seer is not Parker, and in\nits whole effect the story tallies with Clarendon's version, though\nthe narrator knows nothing of the scene with the Countess of\nBuckingham.\n\nCAVALIER VERSION {121}\n\n\"1627.  Since William Lilly the Rebells Jugler and Mountebank in his\nmalicious and blaspheamous discourse concerning our late Martyred\nSoveraigne of ever blessed memory (amongst other lyes and falsehoods)\nimprinted a relation concerning an Aparition which foretold several\nEvents which should happen to the Duke of Buckingham, wherein he\nfalsifies boeth the person to whom it appeared and ye circumstances; I\nthought it not amis to enter here (that it may be preserved) the true\naccount of that Aparition as I have receaved it from the hande and\nunder the hande of Mr. Edmund Wyndham, of Kellefford in the County of\nSomersett.  I shall sett it downe (ipsissimis verbis) as he delivered\nit to me at my request written with his own hande.\n\nWYNDHAM'S LETTER\n\n\"Sr.  According to your desire and my promise I have written down what\nI remember (divers things being slipt out of my memory) of the\nrelation made me by Mr. Nicholas Towse concerning the Aparition wch\nvisited him.  About ye yeare 1627, {122} I and my wife upon an\noccasion being in London lay att my Brother Pyne's house without\nBishopsgate, wch. was ye next house unto Mr. Nicholas Towse's, who was\nmy Kinsman and familiar acquaintance, in consideration of whose\nSociety and friendship he tooke a house in that place, ye said Towse\nbeing a very fine Musician and very good company, and for ought I ever\nsaw or heard, a Vurtuous, religious and wel disposed Gentleman.  About\nthat time ye said Mr. Towse tould me that one night, being in Bed and\nperfectly waking, and a Candle burning by him (as he usually had)\nthere came into his Chamber and stood by his bed side an Olde\nGentleman in such an habitt as was in fashion in Q:  Elizebeth's tyme,\nat whose first appearance Mr. Towse was very much troubled, but after\na little tyme, recollecting himselfe, he demanded of him in ye Name of\nGod what he was, whether he were a Man.  And ye Aparition replyed No.\nThen he asked him if he were a Divell.  And ye answer was No.  Then\nMr. Towse said 'in ye Name of God, what art thou then?'  And as I\nremember Mr. Towse told me that ye Apparition answered him that he was\nye Ghost of Sir George Villiers, Father to ye then Duke of Buckingham,\nwhom he might very well remember, synce he went to schoole at such a\nplace in Leicestershire (naming ye place which I have forgotten).  And\nMr. Towse tould me that ye Apparition had perfectly ye resemblance of\nye said Sr George Villiers in all respects and in ye same habitt that\nhe had often seene him weare in his lifetime.\n\n\"The said Apparition then tould Mr. Towse that he could not but\nremember ye much kindness that he, ye said Sr George Villiers, had\nexpressed to him whilst he was a Schollar in Leicestershire, as\naforesaid, and that as out of that consideration he believed that he\nloved him and that therefore he made choyce of him, ye sayde Mr.\nTowse, to deliver a message to his sonne, ye Duke of Buckingham;\nthereby to prevent such mischiefe as would otherwise befall ye said\nDuke whereby he would be inevitably ruined.  And then (as I remember)\nMr. Towse tould me that ye Apparition instructed him what message he\nshould deliver unto ye Duke.  Vnto wch. Mr. Towse replyed that he\nshould be very unwilling to goe to ye Duke of Buckingham upon such an\nerrand, whereby he should gaine nothing but reproach and contempt, and\nto be esteemed a Madman, and therefore desired to be exscused from ye\nemployment, but ye Apparition pressd him wth. much earnestness to\nundertake it, telling him that ye Circumstances and secret Discoveries\nwhich he should be able to make to ye Duke of such passages in ye\ncourse of his life which were known to none but himselfe, would make\nit appeare that ye message was not ye fancy of a Distempered Brayne,\nbut a reality, and so ye Apparition tooke his leave of him for that\nnight and telling him that he would give him leave to consider till\nthe next night, and then he would come to receave his answer wheather\nhe would undertake to deliver his message or no.\n\n\"Mr. Towse past that day wth. much trouble and perplexity, debating\nand reasoning wth. himselfe wether he should deliver his message or\nnot to ye Duke but, in ye conclusion, he resolved to doe it, and ye\nnext night when ye Apparition came he gave his answer accordingly, and\nthen receaved his full instruction.  After which Mr. Towse went and\nfounde out Sr. Thomas Bludder and Sr. Ralph Freeman, by whom he was\nbrought to ye Duke of Buckingham, and had sevarall private and lone\naudiences of him, I my selfe, by ye favoure of a freinde (Sr. Edward\nSavage) was once admitted to see him in private conference with ye\nDuke, where (although I heard not there discourses) I observed much\nearnestnessse in their actions and gestures.  After wch. conference\nMr. Towse tould me that ye Duke would not follow ye advice that was\ngiven him, which was (as I remember) that he intimated ye casting of,\nand ye rejecting of some Men who had great interest in him, which was,\nand as I take it he named, Bp. Laud and that ye Duke was to doe some\npopular Acts in ye ensuing Parliament, of which Parliament ye Duke\nwould have had Mr. Towse to have been a Burgesse, but he refused it,\nalleadging that unlesse ye Duke followed his directions, he must doe\nhim hurt if he were of ye Parliament.  Mr. Towse then toalde that ye\nDuke of Buckingham confessed that he had toalde him those things wch.\nno Creature knew but himself, and that none but God or ye Divell could\nreveale to him.  Ye Duke offered Mr. Towse to have ye King knight him,\nand to have given him preferment (as he tould me), but that he refused\nit, saying that vnless he would follow his advice he would receave\nnothing from him.\n\n\"Mr. Towse, when he made me this relation, he tolde me that ye Duke\nwould inevitably be destroyed before such a time (wch. he then named)\nand accordingly ye Duke's death happened before that time.  He\nlikewise tolde that he had written downe all ye severall discourses\nthat he had had wth. ye Apparition, and that at last his coming was so\nfamiliar that he was as litle troubled with it as if it had beene a\nfriende or acquayntance that had come to visitt him.  Mr. Towse told\nme further that ye Archbishop of Canterbury, then Bishop of London,\nDr. Laud, should by his Councells be ye authoure of very great\ntroubles to ye Kingdome, by which it should be reduced to ye extremity\nof disorder and confusion, and that it should seeme to be past all\nhope of recovery without a miracle, but when all people were in\ndispayre of seeing happy days agayne, ye Kingdome should suddenly be\nreduced and resettled agayne in a most happy condition.\n\n\"At this tyme my father Pyne was in trouble and comitted to ye\nGatehouse by ye Lords of ye Councell about a Quarrel betweene him and\nye Lord Powlett, upon which one night I saide to my Cosin Towse, by\nway of jest, 'I pray aske your Appairition what shall become of my\nfather Pyne's business,' which he promised to doe, and ye next day he\ntolde me that my father Pyne's enemyes were ashamed of their malicious\nprosecution, and that he would be at liberty within a week or some few\ndays, which happened according.\n\n\"Mr. Towse, his wife, since his death tolde me that her husband and\nshe living at Windsor Castle, where he had an office that Sumer that\nye Duke of Buckingham was killed, tolde her that very day that the\nDuke was sett upon by ye mutinous Mariners att Portesmouth, saying\nthen that ye next attempt agaynst him would be his Death, which\naccordingly happened.  And att ye instant ye Duke was killed (as she\nvnderstood by ye relation afterwards) Mr. Towse was sitting in his\nchayre, out of which he suddenly started vp and sayd, 'Wyfe, ye Duke\nof Buckingham is slayne!'\n\n\"Mr. Towse lived not long after that himselfe, but tolde his wife ye\ntyme of his Death before itt happened.  I never saw him after I had\nseen some effects of his discourse, which before I valued not, and\ntherefore was not curious to enquire after more than he voluntaryly\ntolde me, which I then entertayned not wth. these serious thoughts\nwhich I have synce reflected on in his discourse.  This is as much as\nI can remember on this business which, according to youre desire, is\nwritten by\n\n\"Sr. Yor., &c.,\n\n\"EDMUND WINDHAM.\n\n\"BOULOGNE, 5th August, 1652.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\nThis version has, over all others, the merit of being written by an\nacquaintance of the seer, who was with him while the appearances were\ngoing on.  The narrator was also present at an interview between the\nseer and Buckingham.  His mention of Sir Ralph Freeman tallies with\nClarendon's, who had the story from Freeman.  The ghost predicts the\nRestoration, and this is recorded before that happy event.  Of course\nMr. Towse may have been interested in Buckingham's career and may have\ninvented the ghost (after discovering the secret token) {127} as an\nexcuse for warning him.\n\nThe reader can now take his choice among versions of Sir George\nVilliers' ghost.  He must remember that, in 1642, Sir Henry Wotton\n\"spent some inquiry whether the duke had any ominous presagement\nbefore his end,\" but found no evidence.  Sir Henry told Izaak Walton a\nstory of a dream of an ancestor of his own, whereby some robbers of\nthe University chest at Oxford were brought to justice.  Anthony Wood\nconsulted the records of the year mentioned, and found no trace of any\nsuch robbery.  We now approach a yet more famous ghost than Sir\nGeorge's.  This is Lord Lyttelton's.  The ghost had a purpose, to warn\nthat bad man of his death, but nobody knows whose ghost she was!\n\nLORD LYTTELTON'S GHOST\n\n\"Sir,\" said Dr. Johnson, \"it is the most extraordinary thing that has\nhappened in my day.\"  The doctor's day included the rising of 1745 and\nof the Wesleyans, the seizure of Canada, the Seven Years' War, the\nAmerican Rebellion, the Cock Lane ghost, and other singular\noccurrences, but \"the most extraordinary thing\" was--Lord Lyttelton's\nghost!  Famous as is that spectre, nobody knows what it was, nor even\nwhether there was any spectre at all.\n\nThomas, Lord Lyttelton, was born in 1744.  In 1768 he entered the\nHouse of Commons.  In 1769 he was unseated for bribery.  He then\nvanishes from public view, probably he was playing the prodigal at\nhome and abroad, till February, 1772, when he returned to his father's\nhouse, and married.  He then went abroad (with a barmaid) till 1773,\nwhen his father died.  In January, 1774, he took his seat in the House\nof Lords.  In November, 1779, Lyttelton went into Opposition.  On\nThursday, 25th November, he denounced Government in a magnificent\nspeech.  As to a sinecure which he held, he said, \"Perhaps I shall not\nkeep it long!\"\n\n_Something had Happened_!\n\nOn the night before his speech, that of Wednesday, 24th November,\nLyttelton had seen the ghost, and had been told that he would die in\nthree days.  He mentioned this to Rowan Hamilton on the Friday. {129a}\nOn the same day, or on Friday, he mentioned it to Captain Ascough, who\ntold a lady, who told Mrs. Thrale. {129b}  On the Friday he went to\nEpsom with friends, and mentioned the ghost to them, among others to\nMr. Fortescue. {129c}  About midnight on 28th November, Lord Lyttelton\ndied suddenly in bed, his valet having left him for a moment to fetch\na spoon for stirring his medicine.  The cause of death was not stated;\nthere was no inquest.\n\nThis, literally, is all that is _known_ about Lord Lyttelton's ghost.\nIt is variously described as:  (1) \"a young woman and a robin\" (Horace\nWalpole); (2) \"a spirit\" (Captain Ascough); (3) a bird in a dream,\n\"which changed into a woman in white\" (Lord Westcote's narrative of\n13th February, 1780, collected from Lord Lyttelton's guests and\nservants); (4) \"a bird turning into a woman\" (Mrs. Delany, 9th\nDecember, 1779); (5) a dream of a bird, followed by a woman, Mrs.\nAmphlett, in white (Pitt Place archives after 1789); (6) \"a fluttering\nnoise, as of a bird, followed by the apparition of a woman who had\ncommitted suicide after being seduced by Lyttelton\" (Lady Lyttelton,\n1828); (7) a bird \"which vanished when a female spirit in white\nraiment presented herself\" (Scots Magazine, November-December, 1779).\n\nOut of seven versions, a bird, or a fluttering noise as of a bird (a\ncommon feature in ghost stories), {130a} with a woman following or\naccompanying, occurs in six.  The phenomena are almost equally\nascribed to dreaming and to waking hallucination, but the common-sense\nof the eighteenth century called all ghosts \"dreams\".  In the Westcote\nnarrative (1780) Lyttelton explains the dream by his having lately\nbeen in a room with a lady, Mrs. Dawson, when a robin flew in.  Yet,\nin the same narrative, Lyttelton says on Saturday morning \"that he was\nvery well, and believed he should bilk the _ghost_\".  He was certainly\nin bed at the time of the experience, and probably could not be sure\nwhether he was awake or asleep. {130b}\n\nConsidering the remoteness of time, the story is very well recorded.\nIt is chronicled by Mrs. Thrale before the news of Lyttelton's death\nreached her, and by Lady Mary Coke two days later, by Walpole on the\nday after the peer's decease, of which he had heard.  Lord Lyttelton's\nhealth had for some time been bad; he had made his will a few weeks\nbefore, and his nights were horror-haunted.  A little boy, his nephew,\nto whom he was kind, used to find the wicked lord sitting by his bed\nat night, because he dared not be alone.  So Lockhart writes to his\ndaughter, Mrs. Hope Scott. {131}  He had strange dreams of being in\nhell with the cruel murderess, Mrs. Brownrigg, who \"whipped three\nfemale 'prentices to death and hid them in the coal-hole\".  Such a man\nmight have strange fancies, and a belief in approaching death might\nbring its own fulfilment.  The hypothesis of a premeditated suicide,\nwith the story of the ghost as a last practical joke, has no\ncorroboration.  It occurred to Horace Walpole at once, but he laid no\nstress on it.\n\nSuch is a plain, dry, statistical account of the most extraordinary\nevent that happened in Dr. Johnson's day.\n\nHowever, the story does not end here.  On the fatal night, 27th\nNovember, 1779, Mr. Andrews, M.P., a friend of Lyttelton's was\nawakened by finding Lord Lyttelton drawing his curtains.  Suspecting a\npractical joke, he hunted for his lordship both in his house and in\nthe garden.  Of course he never found him.  The event was promptly\nrecorded in the next number of the Scots Magazine, December, 1779.\n{132}\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\nMore Ghosts With A Purpose\n\n\nThe Slaying of Sergeant Davies in 1749.  The Trial.  Scott's Theory.\nCurious recent Corroboration of Sir Walter's Hypothesis.  Other Trials\ninvolving Ghostly Evidence.  Their Want of Authenticity.  \"Fisher's\nGhost\" criticised.  The Aylesbury Murder.  The Dog o' Mause.  The\nGhosts of Dogs.  Peter's Ghost.\n\nMuch later in time than the ghost of Sir George Villiers is the ghost\nof Sergeant Davies, of Guise's regiment.  His purpose was, first, to\nget his body buried; next, to bring his murderers to justice.  In this\nlatter desire he totally failed.\n\nTHE SLAYING OF SERGEANT DAVIES\n\nWe now examine a ghost with a purpose; he wanted to have his bones\nburied.  The Highlands, in spite of Culloden, were not entirely\npacified in the year 1749.  Broken men, robbers, fellows with wrongs\nunspeakable to revenge, were out in the heather.  The hills that\nseemed so lonely were not bare of human life.  A man was seldom so\nsolitary but that eyes might be on him from cave, corry, wood, or den.\nThe Disarming Act had been obeyed in the usual style:  old useless\nweapons were given up to the military.  But the spirit of the clans\nwas not wholly broken.  Even the old wife of Donald Ban, when he was\n\"sair hadden down by a Bodach\" (ghost) asked the spirit to answer one\nquestion, \"Will the Prince come again?\"  The song expressed the\nfeelings of the people:--\n\nThe wind has left me bare indeed,\nAnd blawn my bonnet off my heid,\nBut something's hid in Hieland brae,\nThe wind's no blawn my sword away!\n\nTraffickers came and went from Prince Charles to Cluny, from Charles\nin the Convent of St. Joseph to Cluny lurking on Ben Alder.  Kilt and\ntartan were worn at the risk of life or liberty, in short, the embers\nof the rising were not yet extinct.\n\nAt this time, in the summer of 1749, Sergeant Arthur Davies, of\nGuise's regiment, marched with eight privates from Aberdeen to Dubrach\nin Braemar, while a corporal's guard occupied the Spital of Glenshee,\nsome eight miles away.  \"A more waste tract of mountain and bog, rocks\nand ravines, without habitations of any kind till you reach\nGlenclunie, is scarce to be met with in Scotland,\" says Sir Walter.\n\nThe sergeant's business was the general surveillance of the country\nside.  He was a kindly prosperous man, liked in the country, fond of\nchildren, newly married, and his wife bore witness \"that he and she\nlived together in as great amity and love as any couple could do, and\nthat he never was in use to stay away a night from her\".\n\nThe sergeant had saved fifteen guineas and a half; he carried the gold\nin a green silk purse, and was not averse to displaying it.  He wore a\nsilver watch, and two gold rings, one with a peculiar knob on the\nbezel.  He had silver buckles to his brogues, silver knee-buckles, two\ndozen silver buttons on a striped lute-string waistcoat, and he\ncarried a gun, a present from an officer in his regiment.  His dress,\non the fatal 28th of September, was \"a blue surtout coat, with a\nstriped silk vest, and teiken breeches and brown stockings\".  His\nhair, of \"a dark mouse colour,\" was worn in a silk ribbon, his hat was\nsilver laced, and bore his initials cut in the felt.  Thus attired, \"a\npretty man,\" Sergeant Davies said good-bye to his wife, who never saw\nhim again, and left his lodgings at Michael Farquharson's early on\n28th September.  He took four men with him, and went to meet the\npatrol from Glenshee.  On the way he met John Growar in Glenclunie,\nwho spoke with him \"about a tartan coat, which the sergeant had\nobserved him to drop, and after strictly enjoining him not to use it\nagain, dismissed him, instead of making him prisoner\".\n\nThis encounter was after Davies left his men, before meeting the\npatrol, it being his intention to cross the hill and try for a shot at\na stag.\n\nThe sergeant never rejoined his men or met the patrol!  He vanished as\nif the fairies had taken him.  His captain searched the hill with a\nband of men four days after the disappearance, but to no avail.\nVarious rumours ran about the country, among others a clatter that\nDavies had been killed by Duncan Clerk and Alexander Bain Macdonald.\nBut the body was undiscovered.\n\nIn June, one Alexander Macpherson came to Donald Farquharson, son of\nthe man with whom Davies had been used to lodge.  Macpherson (who was\nliving in a sheiling or summer hut of shepherds on the hills) said\nthat he \"was greatly troubled by the ghost of Sergeant Davies, who\ninsisted that he should bury his bones, and that, he having declined\nto bury them, the ghost insisted that he should apply to Donald\nFarquharson\".  Farquharson \"could not believe this,\" till Macpherson\ninvited him to come and see the bones.  Then Farquharson went with the\nother, \"as he thought it might possibly be true, and if it was, he did\nnot know but the apparition might trouble himself\".\n\nThe bones were found in a peat moss, about half a mile from the road\ntaken by the patrols.  There, too, lay the poor sergeant's mouse-\ncoloured hair, with rags of his blue cloth and his brogues, without\nthe silver buckles, and there did Farquharson and Macpherson bury them\nall.\n\nAlexander Macpherson, in his evidence at the trial, declared that,\nlate in May, 1750, \"when he was in bed, a vision appeared to him as of\na man clothed in blue, who said, '_I am Sergeant Davies_!'\".  At first\nMacpherson thought the figure was \"a real living man,\" a brother of\nDonald Farquharson's.  He therefore rose and followed his visitor to\nthe door, where the ghost indicated the position of his bones, and\nsaid that Donald Farquharson would help to inter them.  Macpherson\nnext day found the bones, and spoke to Growar, the man of the tartan\ncoat (as Growar admitted at the trial).  Growar said if Macpherson did\nnot hold his tongue, he himself would inform Shaw of Daldownie.\nMacpherson therefore went straight to Daldownie, who advised him to\nbury the bones privily, not to give the country a bad name for a rebel\ndistrict.  While Macpherson was in doubt, and had not yet spoken to\nFarquharson, the ghost revisited him at night and repeated his\ncommand.  He also denounced his murderers, Clerk and Macdonald, which\nhe had declined to do on his first appearance.  He spoke in Gaelic,\nwhich, it seems, was a language not known by the sergeant.\n\nIsobel MacHardie, in whose service Macpherson was, deponed that one\nnight in summer, June, 1750, while she lay at one end of the sheiling\n(a hill hut for shepherds or neatherds) and Macpherson lay at the\nother, \"she saw something naked come in at the door, which frighted\nher so much that she drew the clothes over her head.  That when it\nappeared it came in in a bowing posture, and that next morning she\nasked Macpherson what it was that had troubled them in the night\nbefore.  To which he answered that she might be easy, for it would not\ntrouble them any more.\"\n\nAll this was in 1750, but Clerk and Macdonald were not arrested till\nSeptember, 1753.  They were then detained in the Tolbooth of Edinburgh\non various charges, as of wearing the kilt, till June, 1754, when they\nwere tried, Grant of Prestongrange prosecuting, aided by Haldane, Home\nand Dundas, while Lockhart and Mackintosh defended.  It was proved\nthat Clerk's wife wore Davies's ring, that Clerk, after the murder,\nhad suddenly become relatively rich and taken a farm, and that the two\nmen, armed, were on the hill near the scene of the murder on 28th\nSeptember, 1749.  Moreover, Angus Cameron swore that he saw the murder\ncommitted.  His account of his position was curious.  He and another\nCameron, since dead, were skulking near sunset in a little hollow on\nthe hill of Galcharn.  There he had skulked all day, \"waiting for\nDonald Cameron, _who was afterwards hanged_, together with some of the\nsaid Donald's companions from Lochaber\".  No doubt they were all\nhonest men who had been \"out,\" and they may well have been on Cluny's\nbusiness of conveying gold from the Loch Arkaig hoard to Major Kennedy\nfor the prince.\n\nOn seeing Clerk and Macdonald strike and shoot the man in the silver-\nlaced hat, Cameron and his companion ran away, nor did Cameron mention\nthe matter till nine months later, and then only to Donald (not he who\nwas hanged).  Donald advised him to hold his tongue.  This Donald\ncorroborated at the trial.  The case against Clerk and Macdonald\nlooked very black, especially as some witnesses fled and declined to\nappear.  Scott, who knew Macintosh, the counsel for the prisoners,\nsays that their advocates and agent \"were convinced of their guilt\".\nYet a jury of Edinburgh tradesmen, moved by Macintosh's banter of the\napparition, acquitted the accused solely, as Scott believes, because\nof the ghost and its newly-learned Gaelic.  It is indeed extraordinary\nthat Prestongrange, the patron of David Balfour, allowed his witnesses\nto say what the ghost said, which certainly \"is not evidence\".  Sir\nWalter supposes that Macpherson and Mrs. MacHardie invented the\napparition as an excuse for giving evidence.  \"The ghost's commands,\naccording to Highland belief, were not to be disobeyed.\"  Macpherson\nmust have known the facts \"by ordinary means\".  We have seen that\nClerk and Macdonald were at once suspected; there was \"a clatter\"\nagainst them.  But Angus Cameron had not yet told his tale of what he\nsaw.  Then who _did_ tell?  Here comes in a curious piece of evidence\nof the year 1896.  A friend writes (29th December, 1896):--\n\n\"DEAR LANG,\n\n\"I enclose a tradition connected with the murder of Sergeant\nDavies, which my brother picked up lately before he had read the\nstory in your Cock Lane.  He had heard of the event before, both in\nAthole and Braemar, and it was this that made him ask the old lady\n(see next letter) about it.\n\n\"He thinks that Glenconie of your version (p. 256) must be\nGlenclunie, into which Allt Chriostaidh falls.  He also suggests\nthat the person who was chased by the murderers may have got up the\nghost, in order to shift the odium of tale-bearing to other\nshoulders.  The fact of being mixed up in the affair lends some\nsupport to the story here related.\"\n\nHere follows my friend's brother's narrative, the name of the witness\nbeing suppressed.\n\nCONCERNING THE MURDER OF SERGEANT DAVIES\n\nThere is at present living in the neighbourhood of --- an old lady,\nabout seventy years of age.  Her maiden name is ---, {140} and she is\na native of Braemar, but left that district when about twenty years\nold, and has never been back to it even for a visit.  On being asked\nwhether she had ever heard the story of Sergeant Davies, she at first\npersisted in denying all knowledge of it.  The ordinary version was\nthen related to her, and she listened quietly until it was finished,\nwhen she broke out with:--\n\n\"That isn't the way of it at all, for the men _were_ seen, and it was\na forbear of my own that saw them.  He had gone out to try to get a\nstag, and had his gun and a deer-hound with him.  He saw the men on\nthe hill doing something, and thinking they had got a deer, he went\ntowards them.  When he got near them, the hound began to run on in\nfront of him, and at that minute _he saw what it was they had_.  He\ncalled to the dog, and turned to run away, but saw at once that he had\nmade a mistake, for he had called their attention to himself, and a\nshot was fired after him, which wounded the dog.  He then ran home as\nfast as he could, never looking behind him, and did not know how far\nthe men followed him.  Some time afterwards the dog came home, and he\nwent to see whether it was much hurt, whereupon it flew at him, and\nhad to be killed.  They thought that it was trying to revenge itself\non him for having left it behind.\"\n\nAt this point the old lady became conscious that she was telling the\nstory, and no more could be got out of her.  The name of the lady who\nkeeps a secret of 145 years' standing, is the name of a witness in the\ntrial.  The whole affair is thoroughly characteristic of the\nHighlanders and of Scottish jurisprudence after Culloden, while the\nverdict of \"Not Guilty\" (when \"Not Proven\" would have been stretching\na point) is evidence to the \"common-sense\" of the eighteenth century.\n{141}\n\nThere are other cases, in Webster, Aubrey and Glanvil of ghosts who\ntried more successfully to bring their murderers to justice.  But the\nreports of the trials do not exist, or cannot be found, and Webster\nlost a letter which he once possessed, which would have been proof\nthat ghostly evidence was given and was received at a trial in Durham\n(1631 or 1632).  Reports of old men present were collected for\nGlanvil, but are entirely too vague.\n\nThe case of Fisher's Ghost, which led to evidence being given as to a\nmurder in New South Wales, cannot be wholly omitted.  Fisher was a\nconvict settler, a man of some wealth.  He disappeared from his\nstation, and his manager (also a convict) declared that he had\nreturned to England.  Later, a man returning from market saw Fisher\nsitting on a rail; at his approach Fisher vanished.  Black trackers\nwere laid on, found human blood on the rail, and finally discovered\nFisher's body.  The manager was tried, was condemned, acknowledged his\nguilt and was hanged.\n\nThe story is told in Household Words, where Sir Frederick Forbes is\nsaid to have acted as judge.  No date is given.  In Botany Bay, {142}\nthe legend is narrated by Mr. John Lang, who was in Sydney in 1842.\nHe gives no date of the occurrence, and clearly embellishes the tale.\nIn 1835, however, the story is told by Mr. Montgomery Martin in volume\niv. of his History of the British Colonies.  He gives the story as a\nproof of the acuteness of black trackers.  Beyond saying that he\nhimself was in the colony when the events and the trial occurred, he\ngives no date.  I have conscientiously investigated the facts, by aid\nof the Sydney newspapers, and the notes of the judge, Sir Frederick\nForbes.  Fisher disappeared at the end of June, 1826, from\nCampbeltown.  Suspicion fell on his manager, Worral.  A reward was\noffered late in September.  Late in October the constable's attention\nwas drawn to blood-stains on a rail.  Starting thence, the black\ntrackers found Fisher's body.  Worral was condemned and hanged, after\nconfession, in February, 1827.  Not a word is said about _why_ the\nconstable went to, and examined, the rail.  But Mr. Rusden, author of\na History of Australia, knew the medical attendant D. Farley (who saw\nFisher's ghost, and pointed out the bloody rail), and often discussed\nit with Farley.  Mr. Souttar, in a work on Colonial traditions, proves\nthe point that Farley told his ghost story _before_ the body of Fisher\nwas found.  But, for fear of prejudicing the jury, the ghost was kept\nout of the trial, exactly as in the following case.\n\nTHE GARDENER'S GHOST\n\nPerhaps the latest ghost in a court of justice (except in cases about\nthe letting of haunted houses) \"appeared\" at the Aylesbury Petty\nSession on 22nd August, 1829.  On 25th October, 1828, William Edden, a\nmarket gardener, was found dead, with his ribs broken, in the road\nbetween Aylesbury and Thame.  One Sewell, in August, 1829, accused a\nman named Tyler, and both were examined at the Aylesbury Petty\nSessions.  Mrs. Edden gave evidence that she sent five or six times\nfor Tyler \"to come and see the corpse. . . .  I had some particular\nreasons for sending for him which I never did divulge. . . .  I will\ntell you my reasons, gentlemen, if you ask me, in the face of Tyler,\neven if my life should be in danger for it.\"  The reasons were that on\nthe night of her husband's murder, \"something rushed over me, and I\nthought my husband came by me.  I looked up, and I thought I heard the\nvoice of my husband come from near my mahogany table. . . .  I thought\nI saw my husband's apparition, and the man that had done it, and that\nman was Tyler. . . .  I ran out and said, 'O dear God! my husband is\nmurdered, and his ribs are broken'.\"\n\nLord Nugent--\"What made you think your husband's ribs were broken?\"\n\n\"He held up his hands like this, and I saw a hammer, or something like\na hammer, and it came into my mind that his ribs were broken.\"  Sewell\nstated that the murder was accomplished by means of a hammer.\n\nThe prisoners were discharged on 13th September.  On 5th March, 1830,\nthey were tried at the Buckingham Lent Assizes, were found guilty and\nwere hanged, protesting their innocence, on 8th March, 1830.\n\n\"In the report of Mrs. Edden's evidence (at the Assizes) no mention is\nmade of the vision.\" {144}\n\nHere end our ghosts in courts of justice; the following ghost gave\nevidence of a murder, or rather, confessed to one, but was beyond the\nreach of human laws.\n\nThis tale of 1730 is still current in Highland tradition.  It has,\nhowever, been improved and made infinitely more picturesque by several\ngenerations of narrators.  As we try to be faithful to the best\nsources, the contemporary manuscript version is here reprinted from\nThe Scottish Standard-Bearer, an organ of the Scotch Episcopalians\n(October and November, 1894).\n\nTHE DOG O' MAUSE\n\nAccount of an apparition that appeared to William Soutar, {145a} in\nthe Mause, 1730.\n\n[This is a copy from that in the handwriting of Bishop Rattray,\npreserved at Craighall, and which was found at Meikleour a few years\nago, to the proprietor of which, Mr. Mercer, it was probably sent by\nthe Bishop.--W. W. H., 3rd August, 1846.]\n\n\"I have sent you an account of an apparition as remarkable, perhaps,\nas anything you ever heard of, and which, considered in all its\ncircumstances, leaves, I think, no ground of doubt to any man of\ncommon-sense.  The person to whom it appeared is one William Soutar, a\ntenant of Balgowan's, who lives in Middle Mause, within about half a\nmile from this place on the other side of the river, and in view from\nour windows of Craighall House.  He is about thirty-seven years of\nage, as he says, and has a wife and bairns.\n\n\"The following is an account from his own mouth; and because there are\nsome circumstances fit to be taken in as you go along, I have given\nthem with reference at the end, {145b} that I may not interrupt the\nsense of the account, or add anything to it.  Therefore, it begins:--\n\n\"'In the month of December in the year 1728, about sky-setting, I and\nmy servant, with several others living in the town (farm-steading)\nheard a scratching (screeching, crying), and I followed the noise,\nwith my servant, a little way from the town (farm-steading\nthroughout).  We both thought we saw what had the appearance to be a\nfox, and hounded the dogs at it, but they would not pursue it. {146a}\n\n\"'About a month after, as I was coming from Blair {146b} alone, about\nthe same time of the night, a big dog appeared to me, of a dark\ngreyish colour, between the Hilltown and Knockhead {146c} of Mause, on\na lea rig a little below the road, and in passing by it touched me\nsonsily (firmly) on the thigh at my haunch-bane (hip-bone), upon which\nI pulled my staff from under my arm and let a stroke at it; and I had\na notion at the time that I hit it, and my haunch was painful all that\nnight.  However, I had no great thought of its being anything\nparticular or extraordinary, but that it might be a mad dog wandering.\nAbout a year after that, to the best of my memory, in December month,\nabout the same time of the night and in the same place, when I was\nalone, it appeared to me again as before, and passed by me at some\ndistance; and then I began to think it might be something more than\nordinary.\n\n\"'In the month of December, 1730, as I was coming from Perth, from the\nClaith (cloth) Market a little before sky-setting, it appeared to me\nagain, being alone, at the same place, and passed by me just as\nbefore.  I had some suspicion of it then likewise, but I began to\nthink that a neighbour of mine in the Hilltown having an ox lately\ndead, it might be a dog that had been at the carrion, by which I\nendeavoured to put the suspicion out of my head.\n\n\"'On the second Monday of December, 1730, as I was coming from\nWoodhead, a town (farm) in the ground of Drumlochy, it appeared to me\nagain in the same place just about sky-setting; and after it had\npassed me as it was going out of my sight, it spoke with a low voice\nso that I distinctly heard it, these words, \"Within eight or ten days\ndo or die,\" and it thereupon disappeared.  No more passed at that\ntime.  On the morrow I went to my brother, who dwells in the Nether\nAird of Drumlochy, and told him of the last and of all the former\nappearances, which was the first time I ever spoke of it to anybody.\nHe and I went to see a sister of ours at Glenballow, who was dying,\nbut she was dead before we came.  As we were returning home, I desired\nmy brother, whose name is James Soutar, to go forward with me till we\nshould be passed the place where it used to appear to me; and just as\nwe had come to it, about ten o'clock at night, it appeared to me again\njust as formerly; and as it was passing over some ice I pointed to it\nwith my finger and asked my brother if he saw it, but he said he did\nnot, nor did his servant, who was with us.  It spoke nothing at that\ntime, but just disappeared as it passed the ice.\n\n\"'On the Saturday after, as I was at my own sheep-cots putting in my\nsheep, it appeared to me again just after daylight, betwixt day and\nskylight, and upon saying these words, \"Come to the spot of ground\nwithin half an hour,\" it just disappeared; whereupon I came home to my\nown house, and took up a staff and also a sword off the head of the\nbed, and went straight to the place where it used formerly to appear\nto me; and after I had been there some minutes and had drawn a circle\nabout me with my staff, it appeared to me.  And I spoke to it saying,\n\"In the name of God and Jesus Christ, what are you that troubles me?\"\nand it answered me, \"I am David Soutar, George Soutar's brother.\n{148a}  I killed a man more than five-and-thirty years ago, when you\nwas new born, at a bush be-east the road, as you go into the Isle.\"\n{148b}  And as I was going away, I stood again and said, \"David Soutar\nwas a man, and you appear like a dog,\" whereupon it spoke to me again,\nsaying, \"I killed him with a dog, and therefore I am made to speak out\nof the mouth of a dog, and tell you you must go and bury these bones\".\nUpon this I went straight to my brother to his house, and told him\nwhat had happened to me.  My brother having told the minister of\nBlair, he and I came to the minister on Monday thereafter, as he was\nexamining in a neighbour's house in the same town where I live.  And\nthe minister, with my brother and me and two or three more, went to\nthe place where the apparition said the bones were buried, when\nRychalzie met us accidentally; and the minister told Rychalzie the\nstory in the presence of all that were there assembled, and desired\nthe liberty from him to break up the ground to search for the bones.\nRychalzie made some scruples to allow us to break up the ground, but\nsaid he would go along with us to Glasclune {149a}; and if he advised,\nhe would allow search to be made.  Accordingly he went straight along\nwith my brother and me and James Chalmers, a neighbour who lives in\nthe Hilltown of Mause, to Glasclune, and told Glasclune the story as\nabove narrated; and he advised Rychalzie to allow the search to be\nmade, whereupon he gave his consent to it.\n\n\"'The day after, being Friday, we convened about thirty or forty men\nand went to the Isle, and broke up the ground in many places,\nsearching for the bones, but we found nothing.\n\n\"'On Wednesday the 23rd December, about twelve o'clock, when I was in\nmy bed, I heard a voice but saw nothing; the voice said, \"Come away\".\n{149b} Upon this I rose out of my bed, cast on my coat and went to the\ndoor, but did not see it.  And I said, \"In the name of God, what do\nyou demand of me now?\"  It answered, \"Go, take up these bones\".  I\nsaid, \"How shall I get these bones?\"  It answered again, \"At the side\nof a withered bush, {150} and there are but seven or eight of them\nremaining\".  I asked, \"Was there any more guilty of that action but\nyou?\"  It answered, \"No\".  I asked again, \"What is the reason you\ntrouble me?\"  It answered, \"Because you are the youngest\".  Then said\nI to it, \"Depart from me, and give me a sign that I may know the\nparticular spot, and give me time\".  [Here there is written on the\nmargin in a different hand, \"You will find the bones at the side of a\nwithered bush.  There are but eight of them, and for a sign you will\nfind the print of a cross impressed on the ground.\"]  On the morrow,\nbeing Thursday, I went alone to the Isle to see if I could find any\nsign, and immediately I saw both the bush, which was a small bush, the\ngreatest stick in it being about the thickness of a staff, and it was\nwithered about half-way down; and also the sign, which was about a\nfoot from the bush.  The sign was an exact cross, thus X; each of the\ntwo lines was about a foot and a half in length and near three inches\nbroad, and more than an inch deeper than the rest of the ground, as if\nit had been pressed down, for the ground was not cut.  On the morrow,\nbeing Friday, I went and told my brother of the voice that had spoken\nto me, and that I had gone and seen the bush which it directed me to\nand the above-mentioned sign at it.  The next day, being Saturday, my\nbrother and I went, together with seven or eight men with us, to the\nIsle.  About sun-rising we all saw the bush and the sign at it; and\nupon breaking up the ground just at the bush, we found the bones,\nviz., the chaft-teeth (jaw-teeth-molars) in it, one of the thigh\nbones, one of the shoulder blades, and a small bone which we supposed\nto be a collar bone, which was more consumed than any of the rest, and\ntwo other small bones, which we thought to be bones of the sword-arm.\nBy the time we had digged up those bones, there convened about forty\nmen who also saw them.  The minister and Rychalzie came to the place\nand saw them.\n\n\"'We immediately sent to the other side of the water, to Claywhat,\n{151} to a wright that was cutting timber there, whom Claywhat brought\nover with him, who immediately made a coffin for the bones, and my\nwife brought linen to wrap them in, and I wrapped the bones in the\nlinen myself and put them in the coffin before all these people, and\nsent for the mort-cloth and buried them in the churchyard of Blair\nthat evening.  There were near an hundred persons at the burial, and\nit was a little after sunset when they were buried.'\"\n\n\"This above account I have written down as dictated to me by William\nSoutar in the presence of Robert Graham, brother to the Laird of\nBalgowan, and of my two sons, James and John Rattray, at Craighall,\n30th December, 1730.\n\n\"We at Craighall heard nothing of this history till after the search\nwas over, but it was told us on the morrow by some of the servants who\nhad been with the rest at the search; and on Saturday Glasclune's son\ncame over to Craighall and told us that William Soutar had given a\nvery distinct account of it to his father.\n\n\"On St. Andrew's Day, the 1st of December, this David Soutar (the\nghost) listed himself a soldier, being very soon after the time the\napparition said the murder was committed, and William Soutar declares\nhe had no remembrance of him till that apparition named him as brother\nto George Soutar; then, he said, he began to recollect that when he\nwas about ten years of age he had seen him once at his father's in a\nsoldier's habit, after which he went abroad and was never more heard\nof; neither did William ever before hear of his having listed as a\nsoldier, neither did William ever before hear of his having killed a\nman, nor, indeed, was there ever anything heard of it in the country,\nand it is not yet known who the person was that was killed, and whose\nbones are now found.\n\n\"My son John and I went within a few days after to visit Glasclune,\nand had the account from him as William had told him over.  From\nthence we went to Middle Mause to hear it from himself; but he being\nfrom home, his father, who also lives in that town, gave us the same\naccount of it which Glasclune had done, and the poor man could not\nrefrain from shedding tears as he told it, as Glasclune told us his\nson was under very great concern when he spoke of it to him.  We all\nthought this a very odd story, and were under suspense about it\nbecause the bones had not been found upon the search.\n\n\"(Another account that also seems to have been written by the bishop\nmentions that the murderer on committing the deed went home, and on\nlooking in at the window he saw William Soutar lying in a cradle--\nhence it was the ghaist always came to him, and not to any of the\nother relations.)\"\n\nMr. Hay Newton, of Newton Hall, a man of great antiquarian tastes in\nthe last generation, wrote the following notes on the matter:--\n\n\"Widow M'Laren, aged seventy-nine, a native of Braemar, but who has\nresided on the Craighall estate for sixty years, says that the\ntradition is that the man was murdered for his money; that he was a\nHighland drover on his return journey from the south; that he arrived\nlate at night at the Mains of Mause and wished to get to Rychalzie;\nthat he stayed at the Mains of Mause all night, but left it early next\nmorning, when David Soutar with his dog accompanied him to show him\nthe road; but that with the assistance of the dog he murdered the\ndrover and took his money at the place mentioned; that there was a\ntailor at work in his father's house that morning when he returned\nafter committing the murder (according to the custom at that date by\nwhich tailors went out to make up customers' own cloth at their own\nhouses), and that his mother being surprised at his strange\nappearance, asked him what he had been about, to which inquiry he made\nno reply; that he did not remain long in the country afterwards, but\nwent to England and never returned.  The last time he was seen he went\ndown by the Brae of Cockridge.  A man of the name of Irons, a\nfisherman in Blairgowrie, says that his father, who died a very old\nman some years ago, was present at the getting of the bones.  Mr.\nSmall, Finzyhan, when bringing his daughter home from school in\nEdinburgh, saw a coffin at the door of a public house near Rychalzie\nwhere he generally stopped, but he did not go in as usual, thinking\nthat there was a death in the family.  The innkeeper came out and\nasked him why he was passing the door, and told him the coffin\ncontained the bones of the murdered man which had been collected, upon\nwhich he went into the house.\n\n\"The Soutars disliked much to be questioned on the subject of the Dog\nof Mause.  Thomas Soutar, who was tenant in Easter Mause, formerly\nnamed Knowhead of Mause, and died last year upwards of eighty years of\nage, said that the Soutars came originally from Annandale, and that\ntheir name was Johnston; that there were three brothers who fled from\nthat part of the country on account of their having killed a man; that\nthey came by Soutar's Hill, and having asked the name of the hill,\nwere told 'Soutar,' upon which they said, 'Soutar be it then,' and\ntook that name.  One of the brothers went south and the others came\nnorth.\" {155a}\n\nThe appearance of human ghosts in the form of beasts is common enough;\nin Shropshire they usually \"come\" as bulls.  (See Miss Burne's\nShropshire Folklore.)  They do not usually speak, like the Dog o'\nMause.  M. d'Assier, a French Darwinian, explains that ghosts revert\n\"atavistically\" to lower forms of animal life! {155b}\n\nWe now, in accordance with a promise already made, give an example of\nthe ghosts of beasts!  Here an explanation by the theory that the\nconsciousness of the beast survives death and affects with a\nhallucination the minds of living men and animals, will hardly pass\ncurrent.  But if such cases were as common and told on evidence as\nrespectable as that which vouches for appearances of the dead,\nbelievers in these would either have to shift their ground, or to\ngrant that\n\nAdmitted to that equal sky,\nOur faithful dog may bear us company.\n\nWe omit such things as the dripping death wraith of a drowned cat who\nappeared to a lady, or the illused monkey who died in a Chinese house,\nafter which he haunted it by rapping, secreting objects, and, in\nshort, in the usual way. {155c}  We adduce\n\nPETER'S GHOST\n\nA naval officer visited a friend in the country.  Several men were\nsitting round the smoking-room fire when he arrived, and a fox-terrier\nwas with them.  Presently the heavy, shambling footsteps of an old\ndog, and the metallic shaking sound of his collar, were heard coming\nup stairs.\n\n\"Here's old Peter!\" said his visitor.\n\n\"_Peter's dead_!\" whispered his owner.\n\nThe sounds passed through the closed door, heard by all; they pattered\ninto the room; the fox-terrier bristled up, growled, and pursued a\nviewless object across the carpet; from the hearth-rug sounded a\nshake, a jingle of a collar and the settling weight of a body\ncollapsing into repose. {156}\n\nThis pleasing anecdote rests on what is called _nautical evidence_,\nwhich, for reasons inexplicable to me, was (in these matters)\ndistrusted by Sir Walter Scott.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\n\nMore Ghosts with a Purpose.  Ticonderoga.  The Beresford Ghost.\nSources of Evidence.  The Family Version.  A New Old-Fashioned Ghost.\nHalf-past One o'clock.  Put out the Light!\n\nThe ghost in the following famous tale had a purpose.  He was a\nHighland ghost, a Campbell, and desired vengeance on a Macniven, who\nmurdered him.  The ghost, practically, \"cried Cruachan,\" and tried to\nrouse the clan.  Failing in this, owing to Inverawe's loyalty to his\noath, the ghost uttered a prophecy.\n\nThe tale is given in the words of Miss Elspeth Campbell, who collected\nit at Inverawe from a Highland narrator.  She adds a curious\nsupplementary tradition in the Argyle family.\n\nTICONDEROGA\n\nIt was one evening in the summer of the year 1755 that Campbell of\nInverawe {157} was on Cruachan hill side.  He was startled by seeing a\nman coming towards him at full speed; a man ragged, bleeding, and\nevidently suffering agonies of terror.  \"The avengers of blood are on\nmy track, Oh, save me!\" the poor wretch managed to gasp out.\nInverawe, filled with pity for the miserable man, swore \"By the word\nof an Inverawe which never failed friend or foe yet\" to save him.\n\nInverawe then led the stranger to the secret cave on Cruachan hill\nside.\n\nNone knew of this cave but the laird of Inverawe himself, as the\nsecret was most carefully kept and had been handed down from father to\nson for many generations.  The entrance was small, and no one passing\nwould for an instant suspect it to be other than a tod's hole, {158a}\nbut within were fair-sized rooms, one containing a well of the purest\nspring water.  It is said that Wallace and Bruce had made use of this\ncave in earlier days.\n\nHere Inverawe left his guest.  The man was so overcome by terror that\nhe clung on to Inverawe's plaid, {158b} imploring him not to leave him\nalone.  Inverawe was filled with disgust at this cowardly conduct, and\nalready almost repented having plighted his word to save such a\nworthless creature.\n\nOn Inverawe's return home he found a man in a state of great\nexcitement waiting to see him.  This man informed him of the murder of\nhis (Inverawe's) foster-brother by one Macniven.  \"We have,\" said he,\n\"tracked the murderer to within a short distance of this place, and I\nam here to warn you in case he should seek your protection.\"  Inverawe\nturned pale and remained silent, not knowing what answer to give.  The\nman, knowing the love that subsisted between the foster-brothers,\nthought this silence arose from grief alone, and left the house to\npursue the search for Macniven further.\n\nThe compassion Inverawe felt for the trembling man he had left in the\ncave turned to hate when he thought of his beloved foster-brother\nmurdered; but as he had plighted his word to save him, save him he\nmust and would.  As soon, therefore, as night fell he went to the cave\nwith food, and promised to return with more the next day.\n\nThoroughly worn out, as soon as he reached home he retired to rest,\nbut sleep he could not.  So taking up a book he began to read.  A\nshadow fell across the page.  He looked up and saw his foster-brother\nstanding by the bedside.  But, oh, how changed!  His fair hair clotted\nwith blood; his face pale and drawn, and his garments all gory.  He\nuttered the following words:  \"Inverawe, shield not the murderer;\nblood must flow for blood,\" and then faded away out of sight.\n\nIn spite of the spirit's commands, Inverawe remained true to his\npromise, and returned next day to Macniven with fresh provisions.\nThat night his foster-brother again appeared to him uttering the same\nwarning:  \"Inverawe, Inverawe, shield not the murderer; blood must\nflow for blood\".  At daybreak Inverawe hurried off to the cave, and\nsaid to Macniven:  \"I can shield you no longer; you must escape as\nbest you can\".  Inverawe now hoped to receive no further visit from\nthe vengeful spirit.  In this he was disappointed, for at the usual\nhour the ghost appeared, and in anger said, \"I have warned you once, I\nhave warned you twice; it is too late now.  We shall meet again at\nTICONDEROGA.\"\n\nInverawe rose before dawn and went straight to the cave.  Macniven was\ngone!\n\nInverawe saw no more of the ghost, but the adventure left him a\ngloomy, melancholy man.  Many a time he would wander on Cruachan hill\nside, brooding over his vision, and people passing him would see the\nfar-away look in his eyes, and would say one to the other:  \"The puir\nlaird, he is aye thinking on him that is gone\".  Only his dearest\nfriends knew the cause of his melancholy.\n\nIn 1756 the war between the English and French in America broke out.\nThe 42nd regiment embarked, and landed at New York in June of that\nyear.  Campbell of Inverawe was a major in the regiment.  The lieut.-\ncolonel was Francis Grant.  From New York the 42nd proceeded to\nAlbany, where the regiment remained inactive till the spring of 1757.\nOne evening when the 42nd were still quartered at this place, Inverawe\nasked the colonel \"if he had ever heard of a place called\nTiconderoga\". {160}  Colonel Grant replied he had never heard the name\nbefore.  Inverawe then told his story.  Most of the officers were\npresent at the time; some were impressed, others were inclined to look\nupon the whole thing as a joke, but seeing how very much disturbed\nInverawe was about it all, even the most unbelieving refrained from\nbantering him.\n\nIn 1758 an expedition was to be directed against Ticonderoga, on Lake\nGeorge, a fort erected by the French.  The Highlanders were to form\npart of this expedition.  The force was under Major-General\nAbercromby.\n\nTiconderoga was called by the French St. Louis [really \"Fort\nCarillon\"], and Inverawe knew it by no other name.  One of the\nofficers told Colonel Grant that the Indian name of the place was\nTiconderoga.  Grant, remembering Campbell's story, said:  \"For God's\nsake don't let Campbell know this, or harm will come of it\".\n\nThe troops embarked on Lake George and landed without opposition near\nthe extremity of the lake early in July.  They marched from there,\nthrough woods, upon Ticonderoga, having had one successful skirmish\nwith the enemy, driving them back with considerable loss.  Lord Howe\nwas killed in this engagement.\n\nOn the 10th of July the assault was directed to be commenced by the\npicquets. {162}  The Grenadiers were to follow, supported by the\nbattalions and reserves.  The Highlanders and 55th regiment formed the\nreserve.\n\nIn vain the troops attempted to force their way through the abbatis,\nthey themselves being exposed to a heavy artillery and musket fire\nfrom an enemy well under cover.  The Highlanders could no longer be\nrestrained, and rushed forward from the reserve, cutting and carving\ntheir way through trees and other obstacles with their claymores.  The\ndeadly fire still continued from the fort.  As no ladders had been\nprovided for scaling the breastwork, the soldiers climbed on to one\nanother's shoulders, and made holes for their feet in the face of the\nwork with their swords and bayonets, but as soon as a man reached the\ntop he was thrown down.  Captain John Campbell and a few men succeeded\nat last in forcing their way over the breastworks, but were\nimmediately cut down.\n\nAfter a long and desperate struggle, lasting in fact nearly four\nhours, General Abercromby gave orders for a retreat.  The troops could\nhardly be prevailed upon to retire, and it was not till the order had\nbeen given for the third time that the Highlanders withdrew from the\nhopeless encounter.  The loss sustained by the regiment was as\nfollows:  eight officers, nine sergeants and 297 men killed; seventeen\nofficers, ten sergeants and 306 men wounded.\n\nInverawe, after having fought with the greatest courage, received at\nlength his death wound.  Colonel Grant hastened to the dying man's\nside, who looked reproachfully at him, and said:  \"You deceived me;\nthis is Ticonderoga, for I have seen him\".  Inverawe never spoke\nagain.  Inverawe's son, an officer in the same regiment, also lost his\nlife at Ticonderoga.\n\nOn the very day that these events were happening in far-away America,\ntwo ladies, Miss Campbell of Ederein and her sister, were walking from\nKilmalieu to Inveraray, and had reached the then new bridge over the\nAray.  One of them happened to look up at the sky.  She gave a call to\nher sister to look also.  They both of them saw in the sky what looked\nlike a siege going on.  They saw the different regiments with their\ncolours, and recognised many of their friends among the Highlanders.\nThey saw Inverawe and his son fall, and other men whom they knew.\nWhen they reached Inveraray they told all their friends of the vision\nthey had just seen.  They also took down the names of those they had\nseen fall, and the time and date of the occurrence.  The well-known\nDanish physician, Sir William Hart, was, together with an Englishman\nand a servant, walking round the Castle of Inveraray.  These men saw\nthe same phenomena, and confirmed the statements made by the two\nladies.  Weeks after the gazette corroborated their statements in its\naccount of the attempt made on Ticonderoga.  Every detail was correct\nin the vision, down to the actual number of the killed and wounded.\n\nBut there was sorrow throughout Argyll long before the gazette\nappeared.\n\n* * * * *\n\nWe now give the best attainable version of a yet more famous legend,\n\"The Tyrone Ghost\".\n\nThe literary history of \"The Tyrone Ghost\" is curious.  In 1802 Scott\nused the tale as the foundation of his ballad, The Eve of St. John,\nand referred to the tradition of a noble Irish family in a note.  In\n1858 the subject was discussed in Notes and Queries.  A reference was\ngiven to Lyon's privately printed Grand Juries of Westmeath from 1751.\nThe version from that rare work, a version dated \"Dublin, August,\n1802,\" was published in Notes and Queries of 24th July, 1858.  In\nDecember, 1896, a member of the Beresford family published in The\nNines (a journal of the Wiltshire regiment), the account which\nfollows, derived from a MS. at Curraghmore, written by Lady Betty\nCobbe, granddaughter of the ghost-seer, Lady Beresford.  The writer in\nThe Nines remembers Lady Betty.  The account of 1802 is clearly\nderived from the Curraghmore MS., but omits dates; calls Sir Tristram\nBeresford \"Sir Marcus \"; leaves out the visit to Gill Hall, where the\nghost appeared, and substitutes blanks for the names of persons\nconcerned.  Otherwise the differences in the two versions are mainly\nverbal.\n\nTHE BERESFORD GHOST\n\n\"There is at Curraghmore, the seat of Lord Waterford, in Ireland, a\nmanuscript account of the tale, such as it was originally received and\nimplicitly believed in by the children and grandchildren of the lady\nto whom Lord Tyrone is supposed to have made the supernatural\nappearance after death.  The account was written by Lady Betty Cobbe,\nthe youngest daughter of Marcus, Earl of Tyrone, and granddaughter of\nNicola S., Lady Beresford.  She lived to a good old age, in full use\nof all her faculties, both of body and mind.  I can myself remember\nher, for when a boy I passed through Bath on a journey with my mother,\nand we went to her house there, and had luncheon.  She appeared to my\njuvenile imagination a very appropriate person to revise and transmit\nsuch a tale, and fully adapted to do ample justice to her subject-\nmatter.  It never has been doubted in the family that she received the\nfull particulars in early life, and that she heard the circumstances,\nsuch as they were believed to have occurred, from the nearest\nrelatives of the two persons, the supposed actors in this mysterious\ninterview, viz., from her own father, Lord Tyrone, who died in 1763,\nand from her aunt, Lady Riverston, who died in 1763 also.\n\n\"These two were both with their mother, Lady Beresford, on the day of\nher decease, and they, without assistance or witness, took off from\ntheir parent's wrist the black bandage which she had always worn on\nall occasions and times, even at Court, as some very old persons who\nlived well into the eighteenth century testified, having received\ntheir information from eyewitnesses of the fact.  There was an oil\npainting of this lady in Tyrone House, Dublin, representing her with a\nblack ribbon bound round her wrist.  This portrait disappeared in an\nunaccountable manner.  It used to hang in one of the drawing-rooms in\nthat mansion, with other family pictures.  When Henry, Marquis of\nWaterford, sold the old town residence of the family and its grounds\nto the Government as the site of the Education Board, he directed Mr.\nWatkins, a dealer in pictures, and a man of considerable knowledge in\nworks of art and vertu, to collect the pictures, etc., etc., which\nwere best adapted for removal to Curraghmore.  Mr. Watkins especially\npicked out this portrait, not only as a good work of art, but as one\nwhich, from its associations, deserved particular care and notice.\nWhen, however, the lot arrived at Curraghmore and was unpacked, no\nsuch picture was found; and though Mr. Watkins took great pains and\nexerted himself to the utmost to trace what had become of it, to this\nday (nearly forty years), not a hint of its existence has been\nreceived or heard of.\n\n\"John le Poer, Lord Decies, was the eldest son of Richard, Earl of\nTyrone, and of Lady Dorothy Annesley, daughter of Arthur, Earl of\nAnglesey.  He was born 1665, succeeded his father 1690, and died 14th\nOctober, 1693.  He became Lord Tyrone at his father's death, and is\nthe 'ghost' of the story.\n\n\"Nicola Sophie Hamilton was the second and youngest daughter and co-\nheiress of Hugh, Lord Glenawley, who was also Baron Lunge in Sweden.\nBeing a zealous Royalist, he had, together with his father, migrated\nto that country in 1643, and returned from it at the Restoration.  He\nwas of a good old family, and held considerable landed property in the\ncounty Tyrone, near Ballygawley.  He died there in 1679.  His eldest\ndaughter and co-heiress, Arabella Susanna, married, in 1683, Sir John\nMacgill, of Gill Hall, in the county Down.\n\n\"Nicola S. (the second daughter) was born in 1666, and married Sir\nTristram Beresford in 1687.  Between that and 1693 two daughters were\nborn, but no son to inherit the ample landed estates of his father,\nwho most anxiously wished and hoped for an heir.  It was under these\ncircumstances, and at this period, that the manuscripts state that\nLord Tyrone made his appearance after death; and all the versions of\nthe story, without variation, attribute the same cause and reason,\nviz., a solemn promise mutually interchanged in early life between\nJohn le Poer, then Lord Decies, afterwards Lord Tyrone, and Nicola S.\nHamilton, that whichever of the two died the first, should, if\npermitted, appear to the survivor for the object of declaring the\napproval or rejection by the Deity of the revealed religion as\ngenerally acknowledged:  of which the departed one must be fully\ncognisant, but of which they both had in their youth entertained\nunfortunate doubts.\n\n\"In the month of October, 1693, Sir Tristram and Lady Beresford went\non a visit to her sister, Lady Macgill, at Gill Hall, now the seat of\nLord Clanwilliam, whose grandmother was eventually the heiress of Sir\nJ. Macgill's property.  One morning Sir Tristram rose early, leaving\nLady Beresford asleep, and went out for a walk before breakfast.  When\nhis wife joined the table very late, her appearance and the\nembarrassment of her manner attracted general attention, especially\nthat of her husband.  He made anxious inquiries as to her health, and\nasked her apart what had occurred to her wrist, which was tied up with\nblack ribbon tightly bound round it.  She earnestly entreated him not\nto inquire more then, or thereafter, as to the cause of her wearing or\ncontinuing afterwards to wear that ribbon; 'for,' she added, 'you will\nnever see me without it'.  He replied, 'Since you urge it so\nvehemently, I promise you not to inquire more about it'.\n\n\"After completing her hurried breakfast she made anxious inquiries as\nto whether the post had yet arrived.  It had not yet come in; and Sir\nTristram asked:  'Why are you so particularly eager about letters to-\nday?'  'Because I expect to hear of Lord Tyrone's death, which took\nplace on Tuesday.'  'Well,' remarked Sir Tristram, 'I never should\nhave put you down for a superstitious person; but I suppose that some\nidle dream has disturbed you.'  Shortly after, the servant brought in\nthe letters; one was sealed with black wax.  'It is as I expected,'\nshe cries; 'he is dead.'  The letter was from Lord Tyrone's steward to\ninform them that his master had died in Dublin, on Tuesday, 14th\nOctober, at 4 p.m.  Sir Tristram endeavoured to console her, and\nbegged her to restrain her grief, when she assured him that she felt\nrelieved and easier now that she knew the actual fact.  She added, 'I\ncan now give you a most satisfactory piece of intelligence, viz., that\nI am with child, and that it will be a boy'.  A son was born in the\nfollowing July.  Sir Tristram survived its birth little more than six\nyears.  After his death Lady Beresford continued to reside with her\nyoung family at his place in the county of Derry, and seldom went from\nhome.  She hardly mingled with any neighbours or friends, excepting\nwith Mr. and Mrs. Jackson, of Coleraine.  He was the principal\npersonage in that town, and was, by his mother, a near relative of Sir\nTristram.  His wife was the daughter of Robert Gorges, LL.D. (a\ngentleman of good old English family, and possessed of a considerable\nestate in the county Meath), by Jane Loftus, daughter of Sir Adam\nLoftus, of Rathfarnham, and sister of Lord Lisburn.  They had an only\nson, Richard Gorges, who was in the army, and became a general officer\nvery early in life.  With the Jacksons Lady Beresford maintained a\nconstant communication and lived on the most intimate terms, while she\nseemed determined to eschew all other society and to remain in her\nchosen retirement.\n\n\"At the conclusion of three years thus passed, one luckless day \"Young\nGorges\" most vehemently professed his passion for her, and solicited\nher hand, urging his suit in a most passionate appeal, which was\nevidently not displeasing to the fair widow, and which, unfortunately\nfor her, was successful.  They were married in 1704.  One son and two\ndaughters were born to them, when his abandoned and dissolute conduct\nforced her to seek and to obtain a separation.  After this had\ncontinued for four years, General Gorges pretended extreme penitence\nfor his past misdeeds, and with the most solemn promises of amendment\ninduced his wife to live with him again, and she became the mother of\na second son.  The day month after her confinement happened to be her\nbirthday, and having recovered and feeling herself equal to some\nexertion, she sent for her son, Sir Marcus Beresford, then twenty\nyears old, and her married daughter, Lady Riverston.  She also invited\nDr. King, the Archbishop of Dublin (who was an intimate friend), and\nan old clergyman who had christened her, and who had always kept up a\nmost kindly intercourse with her during her whole life, to make up a\nsmall party to celebrate the day.\n\n\"In the early part of it Lady Beresford was engaged in a kindly\nconversation with her old friend the clergyman, and in the course of\nit said:  'You know that I am forty-eight this day'.  'No, indeed,' he\nreplied; 'you are only forty-seven, for your mother had a dispute with\nme once on the very subject of your age, and I in consequence sent and\nconsulted the registry, and can most confidently assert that you are\nonly forty-seven this day.'  'You have signed my death-warrant, then,'\nshe cried; 'leave me, I pray, for I have not much longer to live, but\nhave many things of grave importance to settle before I die.  Send my\nson and my daughter to me immediately.'  The clergyman did as he was\nbidden.  He directed Sir Marcus and his sister to go instantly to\ntheir mother; and he sent to the archbishop and a few other friends to\nput them off from joining the birthday party.\n\n\"When her two children repaired to Lady Beresford, she thus addressed\nthem:  'I have something of deep importance to communicate to you, my\ndear children, before I die.  You are no strangers to the intimacy and\nthe affection which subsisted in early life between Lord Tyrone and\nmyself.  We were educated together when young, under the same roof, in\nthe pernicious principles of Deism.  Our real friends afterwards took\nevery opportunity to convince us of our error, but their arguments\nwere insufficient to overpower and uproot our infidelity, though they\nhad the effect of shaking our confidence in it, and thus leaving us\nwavering between the two opinions.  In this perplexing state of doubt\nwe made a solemn promise one to the other, that whichever died first\nshould, if permitted, appear to the other for the purpose of declaring\nwhat religion was the one acceptable to the Almighty.  One night,\nyears after this interchange of promises, I was sleeping with your\nfather at Gill Hall, when I suddenly awoke and discovered Lord Tyrone\nsitting visibly by the side of the bed.  I screamed out, and vainly\nendeavoured to rouse Sir Tristram.  \"Tell me,\" I said, \"Lord Tyrone,\nwhy and wherefore are you here at this time of the night?\"  \"Have you\nthen forgotten our promise to each other, pledged in early life?  I\ndied on Tuesday, at four o'clock.  I have been permitted thus to\nappear in order to assure you that the revealed religion is the true\nand only one by which we can be saved.  I am also suffered to inform\nyou that you are with child, and will produce a son, who will marry my\nheiress; that Sir Tristram will not live long, when you will marry\nagain, and you will die from the effects of childbirth in your forty-\nseventh year.\"  I begged from him some convincing sign or proof so\nthat when the morning came I might rely upon it, and feel satisfied\nthat his appearance had been real, and that it was not the phantom of\nmy imagination.  He caused the hangings of the bed to be drawn in an\nunusual way and impossible manner through an iron hook.  I still was\nnot satisfied, when he wrote his signature in my pocket-book.  I\nwanted, however, more substantial proof of his visit, when he laid his\nhand, which was cold as marble, on my wrist; the sinews shrunk up, the\nnerves withered at the touch.  \"Now,\" he said, \"let no mortal eye,\nwhile you live, ever see that wrist,\" and vanished.  While I was\nconversing with him my thoughts were calm, but as soon as he\ndisappeared I felt chilled with horror and dismay, a cold sweat came\nover me, and I again endeavoured but vainly to awaken Sir Tristram; a\nflood of tears came to my relief, and I fell asleep.\n\n\"'In the morning your father got up without disturbing me; he had not\nnoticed anything extraordinary about me or the bed-hangings.  When I\ndid arise I found a long broom in the gallery outside the bedroom\ndoor, and with great difficulty I unhooded the curtain, fearing that\nthe position of it might excite surprise and cause inquiry.  I bound\nup my wrist with black ribbon before I went down to breakfast, where\nthe agitation of my mind was too visible not to attract attention.\nSir Tristram made many anxious inquiries as to my health, especially\nas to my sprained wrist, as he conceived mine to be.  I begged him to\ndrop all questions as to the bandage, even if I continued to adopt it\nfor any length of time.  He kindly promised me not to speak of it any\nmore, and he kept his promise faithfully.  You, my son, came into the\nworld as predicted, and your father died six years after.  I then\ndetermined to abandon society and its pleasures and not mingle again\nwith the world, hoping to avoid the dreadful predictions as to my\nsecond marriage; but, alas! in the one family with which I held\nconstant and friendly intercourse I met the man, whom I did not regard\nwith perfect indifference.  Though I struggled to conquer by every\nmeans the passion, I at length yielded to his solicitations, and in a\nfatal moment for my own peace I became his wife.  In a few years his\nconduct fully justified my demand for a separation, and I fondly hoped\nto escape the fatal prophecy.  Under the delusion that I had passed my\nforty-seventh birthday, I was prevailed upon to believe in his\namendment, and to pardon him.  I have, however, heard from undoubted\nauthority that I am only forty-seven this day, and I know that I am\nabout to die.  I die, however, without the dread of death, fortified\nas I am by the sacred precepts of Christianity and upheld by its\npromises.  When I am gone, I wish that you, my children, should unbind\nthis black ribbon and alone behold my wrist before I am consigned to\nthe grave.'\n\n\"She then requested to be left that she might lie down and compose\nherself, and her children quitted the apartment, having desired her\nattendant to watch her, and if any change came on to summon them to\nher bedside.  In an hour the bell rang, and they hastened to the call,\nbut all was over.  The two children having ordered every one to\nretire, knelt down by the side of the bed, when Lady Riverston unbound\nthe black ribbon and found the wrist exactly as Lady Beresford had\ndescribed it--every nerve withered, every sinew shrunk.\n\n\"Her friend, the Archbishop, had had her buried in the Cathedral of\nSt. Patrick, in Dublin, in the Earl of Cork's tomb, where she now\nlies.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\nThe writer now professes his disbelief in any spiritual presence, and\nexplains his theory that Lady Beresford's anxiety about Lord Tyrone\ndeluded her by a vivid dream, during which she hurt her wrist.\n\nOf all ghost stories the Tyrone, or Beresford Ghost, has most\nvariants.  Following Monsieur Haureau, in the Journal des Savants, I\nhave tracked the tale, the death compact, and the wound inflicted by\nthe ghost on the hand, or wrist, or brow, of the seer, through Henry\nMore, and Melanchthon, and a mediaeval sermon by Eudes de Shirton, to\nWilliam of Malmesbury, a range of 700 years.  Mrs. Grant of Laggan has\na rather recent case, and I have heard of another in the last ten\nyears!  Calmet has a case in 1625, the spectre leaves\n\nThe sable score of fingers four\n\non a board of wood.\n\nNow for a modern instance of a gang of ghosts with a purpose!\n\nWhen I narrated the story which follows to an eminent moral\nphilosopher, he remarked, at a given point, \"Oh, the ghost _spoke_,\ndid she?\" and displayed scepticism.  The evidence, however, left him,\nas it leaves me, at a standstill, not convinced, but agreeably\nperplexed.  The ghosts here are truly old-fashioned.\n\nMy story is, and must probably remain, entirely devoid of proof, as\nfar as any kind of ghostly influence is concerned.  We find ghosts\nappearing, and imposing a certain course of action on a living\nwitness, for definite purposes of their own.  The course of action\nprescribed was undeniably pursued, and apparently the purpose of the\nghosts was fulfilled, but what that purpose was their agent declines\nto state, and conjecture is hopelessly baffled.\n\nThe documents in the affair have been published by the Society for\nPsychical Research (Proceedings, vol. xi., p. 547), and are here used\nfor reference.  But I think the matter will be more intelligible if I\nnarrate it exactly as it came under my own observation.  The names of\npersons and places are all fictitious, and are the same as those used\nin the documents published by the S.P.R.\n\nHALF-PAST ONE O'CLOCK\n\nIn October, 1893, I was staying at a town which we shall call\nRapingham.  One night I and some kinsfolk dined with another old\nfriend of all of us, a Dr. Ferrier.  In the course of dinner he asked\na propos de bottes:--\n\n\"Have you heard of the ghost in Blake Street?\" a sunny, pleasant\nstreet of respectable but uninteresting antiquity in Rapingham.\n\nWe had none of us heard of the ghost, and begged the doctor to\nenlighten our ignorance.  His story ran thus--I have it in his own\nwriting as far as its essence goes:--\n\n\"The house,\" he said, \"belongs to my friends, the Applebys, who let\nit, as they live elsewhere.  A quiet couple took it and lived in it\nfor five years, when the husband died, and the widow went away.  They\nmade no complaint while tenants.  The house stood empty for some time,\nand all I know personally about the matter is that I, my wife, and the\nchildren were in the dining-room one Sunday when we heard unusual\nnoises in the drawing-room overhead.  We went through the rooms but\ncould find no cause or explanation of the disturbance, and thought no\nmore about it.\n\n\"About six or seven years ago I let the house to a Mr. Buckley, who is\nstill the tenant.  He was unmarried, and his family consisted of his\nmother and sisters.  They preceded him to put the place in order, and\nbefore his arrival came to me in some irritation complaining that I\nhad let them _a haunted house_!  They insisted that there were strange\nnoises, as if heavy weights were being dragged about, or heavy\nfootsteps pacing in the rooms and on the stairs.  I said that I knew\nnothing about the matter.  The stairs are of stone, water is only\ncarried up to the first floor, there is an unused system of hot air\npipes. {177a}  Something went wrong with the water-main in the area\nonce, but the noises lasted after it was mended.\n\n\"I think Mr. Buckley when he arrived never heard anything unusual.\nBut one evening as he walked upstairs carrying an ink-bottle, he found\nhis hand full of some liquid.  Thinking that he had spilt the ink, he\nwent to a window where he found his hand full of water, to account for\nwhich there was no stain on the ceiling, or anything else that he\ncould discover.  On another occasion one of the young ladies was\nkneeling by a trunk in an attic, alone, when water was switched over\nher face, as if from a wet brush. {177b}  There was a small pool of\nwater on the floor, and the wall beyond her was sprinkled.\n\n\"Time went on, and the disturbances were very rare:  in fact ceased\nfor two years till the present week, when Mrs. Claughton, a widow\naccompanied by two of her children, came to stay with the Buckleys.\n{177c}  She had heard of the disturbances and the theory of hauntings--\nI don't know if these things interested her or not.\n\n\"Early on Monday, 9th October, Mrs. Claughton came to consult me.  Her\nstory was this:  About a quarter past one on Sunday night, or Monday\nmorning, she was in bed with one of her children, the other sleeping\nin the room.  She was awakened by footsteps on the stair, and supposed\nthat a servant was coming to call her to Miss Buckley, who was ill.\nThe steps stopped at the door, then the noise was repeated.  Mrs.\nClaughton lit her bedroom candle, opened the door and listened.  There\nwas no one there.  The clock on the landing pointed to twenty minutes\npast one.  Mrs. Claughton went back to bed, read a book, fell asleep,\nand woke to find the candle still lit, but low in the socket.  She\nheard a sigh, and saw a lady, unknown to her, her head swathed in a\nsoft white shawl, her expression gentle and refined, her features much\nemaciated.\n\n\"The Appearance said, 'Follow me,' and Mrs. Claughton, taking the\nbedroom candle, rose and followed out on to the landing, and so into\nthe adjacent drawing-room.  She cannot remember opening the door,\nwhich the housemaid had locked outside, and she owns that this passage\nis dreamlike in her memory.  Seeing that her candle was flickering\nout, she substituted for it a pink one taken from a chiffonier.  The\nfigure walked nearly to the window, turned three-quarters round, said\n'To-morrow!' and was no more seen.  Mrs. Claughton went back to her\nroom, where her eldest child asked:--\n\n\"'Who is the lady in white?'\n\n\"'Only me, mother, go to sleep,' she thinks she answered.  After lying\nawake for two hours, with gas burning, she fell asleep.  The pink\ncandle from the drawing-room chiffonier was in her candlestick in the\nmorning.\n\n\"After hearing the lady's narrative I told her to try change of air,\nwhich she declined as cowardly.  So, as she would stay on at Mr.\nBuckley's, I suggested that an electric alarm communicating with Miss\nBuckley's room should be rigged up, and this was done.\"\n\nHere the doctor paused, and as the events had happened within the\nweek, we felt that we were at last on the track of a recent ghost.\n\n\"Next morning, about one, the Buckleys were aroused by a tremendous\npeal of the alarm; Mrs. Claughton they found in a faint.  Next morning\n{179} she consulted me as to the whereabouts of a certain place, let\nme call it 'Meresby'.  I suggested the use of a postal directory; we\nfound Meresby, a place extremely unknown to fame, in an agricultural\ndistrict about five hours from London in the opposite direction from\nRapingham.  To this place Mrs. Claughton said she must go, in the\ninterest and by the order of certain ghosts, whom she saw on Monday\nnight, and whose injunctions she had taken down in a note-book.  She\nhas left Rapingham for London, and there,\" said the doctor, \"my story\nends for the present.\"\n\nWe expected it to end for good and all, but in the course of the week\ncame a communication to the doctor in writing from Mrs. Claughton's\ngoverness.  This lady, on Mrs. Claughton's arrival at her London house\n(Friday, 13th October), passed a night perturbed by sounds of weeping,\n\"loud moans,\" and \"a very odd noise overhead, like some electric\nbattery gone wrong,\" in fact, much like the \"warning\" of a jack\nrunning down, which Old Jeffrey used to give at the Wesley's house in\nEpworth.  There were also heavy footsteps and thuds, as of moving\nweighty bodies.  So far the governess.\n\nThis curious communication I read at Rapingham on Saturday, 14th\nOctober, or Sunday, 15th October.  On Monday I went to town.  In the\ncourse of the week I received a letter from my kinsman in Rapingham,\nsaying that Mrs. Claughton had written to Dr. Ferrier, telling him\nthat she had gone to Meresby on Saturday; had accomplished the bidding\nof the ghosts, and had lodged with one Joseph Wright, the parish\nclerk.  Her duty had been to examine the Meresby parish registers, and\nto compare certain entries with information given by the ghosts and\nwritten by her in her note-book.  If the entries in the parish\nregister tallied with her notes, she was to pass the time between one\no'clock and half-past one, alone, in Meresby Church, and receive a\ncommunication from the spectres.  All this she said that she had done,\nand in evidence of her journey enclosed her half ticket to Meresby,\nwhich a dream had warned her would not be taken on her arrival.  She\nalso sent a white rose from a grave to Dr. Ferrier, a gentleman in no\nsympathy with the Jacobite cause, which, indeed, has no connection\nwhatever with the matter in hand.\n\nOn hearing of this letter from Mrs. Claughton, I confess that, not\nknowing the lady, I remained purely sceptical.  The railway company,\nhowever, vouched for the ticket.  The rector of Meresby, being\nappealed to, knew nothing of the matter.  He therefore sent for his\ncurate and parish clerk.\n\n\"Did a lady pass part of Sunday night in the church?\"\n\nThe clerk and the curate admitted that this unusual event _had_\noccurred.  A lady had arrived from London on Saturday evening; had\nlodged with Wright, the parish clerk; had asked for the parish\nregisters; had compared them with her note-book after morning service\non Sunday, and had begged leave to pass part of the night in the\nchurch.  The curate in vain tried to dissuade her, and finally,\nwashing his hands of it, had left her to Wright the clerk.  To him she\ndescribed a Mr. George Howard, deceased (one of the ghosts).  He\nrecognised the description, and he accompanied her to the church on a\ndark night, starting at one o'clock.  She stayed alone, without a\nlight, in the locked-up church from 1.20 to 1.45, when he let her out.\n\nThere now remained no doubt that Mrs. Claughton had really gone to\nMeresby, a long and disagreeable journey, and had been locked up in\nthe church alone at a witching hour.\n\nBeyond this point we have only the statements of Mrs. Claughton, made\nto Lord Bute, Mr. Myers and others, and published by the Society for\nPsychical Research.  She says that after arranging the alarm bell on\nMonday night (October 9-10) she fell asleep reading in her dressing-\ngown, lying outside her bed.  She wakened, and found the lady of the\nwhite shawl bending over her.  Mrs. Claughton said:  \"Am I dreaming,\nor is it true?\"  The figure gave, as testimony to character, a piece\nof information.  Next Mrs. Claughton saw a male ghost, \"tall, dark,\nhealthy, sixty years old,\" who named himself as George Howard, buried\nin Meresby churchyard, Meresby being a place of which Mrs. Claughton,\nlike most people, now heard for the first time.  He gave the dates of\nhis marriage and death, which are correct, and have been seen by Mr.\nMyers in Mrs. Claughton's note-book.  He bade her verify these dates\nat Meresby, and wait at 1.15 in the morning at the grave of Richard\nHarte (a person, like all of them, unknown to Mrs. Claughton) at the\nsouth-west corner of the south aisle in Meresby Church.  This Mr.\nHarte died on 15th May, 1745, and missed many events of interest by\ndoing so.  Mr. Howard also named and described Joseph Wright, of\nMeresby, as a man who would help her, and he gave minute local\ninformation.  Next came a phantom of a man whose name Mrs. Claughton\nis not free to give; {182} he seemed to be in great trouble, at first\ncovering his face with his hands, but later removing them.  These\nthree spectres were to meet Mrs. Claughton in Meresby Church and give\nher information of importance on a matter concerning, apparently, the\nthird and only unhappy appearance.  After these promises and\ninjunctions the phantoms left, and Mrs. Claughton went to the door to\nlook at the clock.  Feeling faint, she rang the alarum, when her\nfriends came and found her in a swoon on the floor.  The hour was\n1.20.\n\nWhat Mrs. Claughton's children were doing all this time, and whether\nthey were in the room or not, does not appear.\n\nOn Thursday Mrs. Claughton went to town, and her governess was\nperturbed, as we have seen.\n\nOn Friday night Mrs. Claughton _dreamed_ a number of things connected\nwith her journey; a page of the notes made from this dream was shown\nto Mr. Myers.  Thus her half ticket was not to be taken, she was to\nfind a Mr. Francis, concerned in the private affairs of the ghosts,\nwhich needed rectifying, and so forth.  These premonitions, with\nothers, were all fulfilled.  Mrs. Claughton, in the church at night,\ncontinued her conversation with the ghosts whose acquaintance she had\nmade at Rapingham.  She obtained, it seems, all the information\nneedful to settling the mysterious matters which disturbed the male\nghost who hid his face, and on Monday morning she visited the daughter\nof Mr. Howard in her country house in a park, \"recognised the strong\nlikeness to her father, and carried out all things desired by the dead\nto the full, as had been requested. . . .  The wishes expressed to her\nwere perfectly rational, reasonable and of natural importance.\"\n\nThe clerk, Wright, attests the accuracy of Mrs. Claughton's\ndescription of Mr. Howard, whom he knew, and the correspondence of her\ndates with those in the parish register and on the graves, which he\nfound for her at her request.  Mr. Myers, \"from a very partial\nknowledge\" of what the Meresby ghosts' business was, thinks the\nreasons for not revealing this matter \"entirely sufficient\".  The\nghosts' messages to survivors \"effected the intended results,\" says\nMrs. Claughton.\n\n* * * * *\n\nOf this story the only conceivable natural explanation is that Mrs.\nClaughton, to serve her private ends, paid secret preliminary visits\nto Meresby, \"got up\" there a number of minute facts, chose a haunted\nhouse at the other end of England as a first scene in her little\ndrama, and made the rest of the troublesome journeys, not to mention\nthe uncomfortable visit to a dark church at midnight, and did all this\nfrom a hysterical love of notoriety.  This desirable boon she would\nprobably never have obtained, even as far as it is consistent with a\npseudonym, if I had not chanced to dine with Dr. Ferrier while the\nadventure was only beginning.  As there seemed to be a chance of\ntaking a ghost \"on the half volley,\" I at once communicated the first\npart of the tale to the Psychical Society (using pseudonyms, as here,\nthroughout), and two years later Mrs. Claughton consented to tell the\nSociety as much as she thinks it fair to reveal.\n\nThis, it will be confessed, is a round-about way of obtaining fame,\nand an ordinary person in Mrs. Claughton's position would have gone to\nthe Psychical Society at once, as Mark Twain meant to do when he saw\nthe ghost which turned out to be a very ordinary person.\n\nThere I leave these ghosts, my mind being in a just balance of\nagnosticism.  If ghosts at all, they were ghosts with a purpose.  The\nspecies is now very rare.\n\nThe purpose of the ghost in the following instance was trivial, but\nwas successfully accomplished.  In place of asking people to do what\nit wanted, the ghost did the thing itself.  Now the modern theory of\nghosts, namely, that they are delusions of the senses of the seers,\ncaused somehow by the mental action of dead or distant people, does\nnot seem to apply in this case.  The ghost produced an effect on a\nmaterial object.\n\n\"PUT OUT THE LIGHT!\"\n\nThe Rev. D. W. G. Gwynne, M.D., was a physician in holy orders.  In\n1853 he lived at P--- House, near Taunton, where both he and his wife\n\"were made uncomfortable by auditory experiences to which they could\nfind no clue,\" or, in common English, they heard mysterious noises.\n\"During the night,\" writes Dr. Gwynne, \"I became aware of a draped\nfigure passing across the foot of the bed towards the fireplace.  I\nhad the impression that the arm was raised, pointing with the hand\ntowards the mantel-piece on which a night-light was burning.  Mrs.\nGwynne at the same moment seized my arm, _and the light was\nextinguished_!  Notwithstanding, I distinctly saw the figure returning\ntowards the door, and being under the impression that one of the\nservants had found her way into our room, I leaped out of bed to\nintercept the intruder, but found and saw nothing.  I rushed to the\ndoor and endeavoured to follow the supposed intruder, and it was not\nuntil I found the door locked, as usual, that I was painfully\nimpressed.  I need hardly say that Mrs. Gwynne was in a very nervous\nstate.  She asked me what I had seen, and I told her.  She had seen\nthe same figure,\" \"but,\" writes Mrs. Gwynne, \"I distinctly _saw the\nhand of the figure placed over the night-light, which was at once\nextinguished_\".  \"Mrs. Gwynne also heard the rustle of the 'tall man-\nlike figure's' garments.  In addition to the night-light there was\nmoonlight in the room.\"\n\n\"Other people had suffered many things in the same house, unknown to\nDr. and Mrs. Gwynne, who gave up the place soon afterwards.\"\n\nIn plenty of stories we hear of ghosts who draw curtains or open\ndoors, and these apparent material effects are usually called part of\nthe seer's delusion.  But the night-light certainly went out under the\nfigure's hand, and was relit by Dr. Gwynne.  Either the ghost was an\nactual entity, not a mere hallucination of two people, or the\nextinction of the light was a curious coincidence. {186}\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\n\nHaunted Houses.  Antiquity of Haunted Houses.  Savage Cases.  Ancient\nEgyptian Cases.  Persistence in Modern Times.  Impostures.  Imaginary\nNoises.  Nature of Noises.  The Creaking Stair.  Ghostly Effects\nproduced by the Living but Absent.  The Grocer's Cough.  Difficulty of\nBelief.  My Gillie's Father's Story.  \"Silverton Abbey.\"  The Dream\nthat Opened the Door.  Abbotsford Noises.  Legitimate Haunting by the\nDead.  The Girl in Pink.  The Dog in the Haunted Room.  The Lady in\nBlack.  Dogs Alarmed.  The Dead Seldom Recognised.  Glamis.  A Border\nCastle.  Another Class of Hauntings.  A Russian Case.  The Dancing\nDevil.  The Little Hands.\n\nHaunted houses have been familiar to man ever since he has owned a\nroof to cover his head.  The Australian blacks possessed only shelters\nor \"leans-to,\" so in Australia the spirits do their rapping on the\ntree trunks; a native illustrated this by whacking a table with a\nbook.  The perched-up houses of the Dyaks are haunted by noisy routing\nagencies.  We find them in monasteries, palaces, and crofters'\ncottages all through the Middle Ages.  On an ancient Egyptian papyrus\nwe find the husband of the Lady Onkhari protesting against her habit\nof haunting his house, and exclaiming:  \"What wrong have I done,\"\nexactly in the spirit of the \"Hymn of Donald Ban,\" who was \"sair\nhadden down by a bodach\" (noisy bogle) after Culloden. {188a}\n\nThe husband of Onkhari does not say _how_ she disturbed him, but the\nmanners of Egyptian haunters, just what they remain at present, may be\ngathered from a magical papyrus, written in Greek.  Spirits \"wail and\ngroan, or laugh dreadfully\"; they cause bad dreams, terror and\nmadness; finally, they \"practice stealthy theft,\" and rap and knock.\nThe \"theft\" (by making objects disappear mysteriously) is often\nillustrated in the following tales, as are the groaning and knocking.\n{188b}  St. Augustine speaks of hauntings as familiar occurrences, and\nwe have a chain of similar cases from ancient Egypt to 1896.  Several\nhouses in that year were so disturbed that the inhabitants were\nobliged to leave them.  The newspapers were full of correspondence on\nthe subject.\n\nThe usual annoyances are apparitions (rare), flying about of objects\n(not very common), noises of every kind (extremely frequent), groans,\nscreams, footsteps and fire-raising.  Imposture has either been proved\nor made very probable in ten out of eleven cases of volatile objects\nbetween 1883 and 1895. {188c}  Moreover, it is certain that the noises\nof haunted houses are not equally audible by all persons present, even\nwhen the sounds are at their loudest.  Thus Lord St. Vincent, the\ngreat admiral, heard nothing during his stay at the house of his\nsister, Mrs. Ricketts, while that lady endured terrible things.  After\nhis departure she was obliged to recall him.  He arrived, and slept\npeacefully.  Next day his sister told him about the disturbances,\nafter which he heard them as much as his neighbours, and was as\nunsuccessful in discovering their cause. {189}\n\nOf course this looks as if these noises were unreal, children of the\nimagination.  Noises being the staple of haunted houses, a few words\nmay be devoted to them.  They are usually the frou-frou or rustling\nsweep of a gown, footsteps, raps, thumps, groans, a sound as if all\nthe heavy furniture was being knocked about, crashing of crockery and\njingling of money.  Of course, as to footsteps, people _may_ be\nwalking about, and most of the other noises are either easily\nimitated, or easily produced by rats, water pipes, cracks in furniture\n(which the Aztecs thought ominous of death), and other natural causes.\nThe explanation is rather more difficult when the steps pace a\ngallery, passing and repassing among curious inquirers, or in this\ninstance.\n\nTHE CREAKING STAIR\n\nA lady very well known to myself, and in literary society, lived as a\ngirl with an antiquarian father in an old house dear to an antiquary.\nIt was haunted, among other things, by footsteps.  The old oak\nstaircase had two creaking steps, numbers seventeen and eighteen from\nthe top.  The girl would sit on the stair, stretching out her arms,\nand count the steps as they passed her, one, two, three, and so on to\nseventeen and eighteen, _which always creaked_. {190}   In this case\nrats and similar causes were excluded, though we may allow for\n\"expectant attention\".  But this does not generally work.  When people\nsit up on purpose to look out for the ghost, he rarely comes; in the\ncase of the \"Lady in Black,\" which we give later, when purposely\nwaited for, she was never seen at all.\n\nDiscounting imposture, which is sometimes found, and sometimes merely\nfabled (as in the Tedworth story), there remains one curious\ncircumstance.  Specially ghostly noises are attributed to the living\nbut absent.\n\nTHE GROCER'S COUGH\n\nA man of letters was born in a small Scotch town, where his father was\nthe intimate friend of a tradesman whom we shall call the grocer.\nAlmost every day the grocer would come to have a chat with Mr. Mackay,\nand the visitor, alone of the natives, had the habit of knocking at\nthe door before entering.  One day Mr. Mackay said to his daughter,\n\"There's Mr. Macwilliam's knock.  Open the door.\"  But there was no\nMr. Macwilliam!  He was just leaving his house at the other end of the\nstreet.  From that day Mr. Mackay always heard the grocer's knock \"a\nlittle previous,\" accompanied by the grocer's cough, which was\npeculiar.  Then all the family heard it, including the son who later\nbecame learned.  He, when he had left his village for Glasgow,\nreasoned himself out of the opinion that the grocer's knock did herald\nand precede the grocer.  But when he went home for a visit he found\nthat he heard it just as of old.  Possibly some local Sentimental\nTommy watched for the grocer, played the trick and ran away.  This\nexplanation presents no difficulty, but the boy was never detected.\n{191}\n\nSuch anecdotes somehow do not commend themselves to the belief even of\npeople who can believe a good deal.\n\nBut \"the spirits of the living,\" as the Highlanders say, have surely\nas good a chance to knock, or appear at a distance, as the spirits of\nthe dead.  To be sure, the living do not know (unless they are making\na scientific experiment) what trouble they are giving on these\noccasions, but one can only infer, like St. Augustine, that probably\nthe dead don't know it either.\n\nThus,\n\nMY GILLIE'S FATHER'S STORY\n\nFishing in Sutherland, I had a charming companion in the gillie.  He\nwas well educated, a great reader, the best of salmon fishers, and I\nnever heard a man curse William, Duke of Cumberland, with more\nenthusiasm.  His father, still alive, was second-sighted, and so, to a\nmoderate extent and without theory, was my friend.  Among other\nanecdotes (confirmed in writing by the old gentleman) was this:--\n\nThe father had a friend who died in the house which they both\noccupied.  The clothes of the deceased hung on pegs in the bedroom.\nOne night the father awoke, and saw a stranger examining and handling\nthe clothes of the defunct.  Then came a letter from the dead man's\nbrother, inquiring about the effects.  He followed later, and was the\nstranger seen by my gillie's father.\n\nThus the living but absent may haunt a house both noisily and by\nactual appearance.  The learned even think, for very exquisite\nreasons, that \"Silverton Abbey\" {192} is haunted noisily by a \"spirit\nof the living\".  Here is a case:--\n\nTHE DREAM THAT KNOCKED AT THE DOOR\n\nThe following is an old but good story.  The Rev. Joseph Wilkins died,\nan aged man, in 1800.  He left this narrative, often printed; the date\nof the adventure is 1754, when Mr. Wilkins, aged twenty-three, was a\nschoolmaster in Devonshire.  The dream was an ordinary dream, and did\nnot announce death, or anything but a journey.  Mr. Wilkins dreamed,\nin Devonshire, that he was going to London.  He thought he would go by\nGloucestershire and see his people.  So he started, arrived at his\nfather's house, found the front door locked, went in by the back door,\nwent to his parents' room, saw his father asleep in bed and his mother\nawake.  He said:  \"Mother, I am going a long journey, and have come to\nbid you good-bye\".  She answered in a fright, \"Oh dear son, thou art\ndead!\"  Mr. Wilkins wakened, and thought nothing of it.  As early as a\nletter could come, one arrived from his father, addressing him as if\nhe were dead, and desiring him, if by accident alive, or any one into\nwhose hands the letter might fall, to write at once.  The father then\ngave his reasons for alarm.  Mrs. Wilkins, being awake one night,\nheard some one try the front door, enter by the back, then saw her son\ncome into her room and say he was going on a long journey, with the\nrest of the dialogue.  She then woke her husband, who said she had\nbeen dreaming, but who was alarmed enough to write the letter.  No\nharm came of it to anybody.\n\nThe story would be better if Mr. Wilkins, junior, like Laud, had kept\na nocturnal of his dreams, and published his father's letter, with\npost-marks.\n\nThe story of the lady who often dreamed of a house, and when by chance\nshe found and rented it was recognised as the ghost who had recently\nhaunted it, is good, but is an invention!\n\nA somewhat similar instance is that of the uproar of moving heavy\nobjects, heard by Scott in Abbotsford on the night preceding and the\nnight of the death of his furnisher, Mr. Bullock, in London.  The\nstory is given in Lockhart's Life of Scott, and is too familiar for\nrepetition.\n\nOn the whole, accepting one kind of story on the same level as the\nother kind, the living and absent may unconsciously produce the\nphenomena of haunted houses just as well as the dead, to whose alleged\nperformances we now advance.  Actual appearances, as we have said, are\nnot common, and just as all persons do not hear the sounds, so many do\nnot see the appearance, even when it is visible to others in the same\nroom.  As an example, take a very mild and lady-like case of haunting.\n\nTHE GIRL IN PINK\n\nThe following anecdote was told to myself, a few months after the\ncurious event, by the three witnesses in the case.  They were\nconnections of my own, the father was a clergyman of the Anglican\nChurch; he, his wife and their daughter, a girl of twenty, were the\n\"percipients\".  All are cheerful, sagacious people, and all, though\nthey absolutely agreed as to the facts in their experience, professed\nan utter disbelief in \"ghosts,\" which the occurrence has not affected\nin any way.  They usually reside in a foreign city, where there is a\ngood deal of English society.  One day they left the town to lunch\nwith a young fellow-countryman who lived in a villa in the\nneighbourhood.  There he was attempting to farm a small estate, with\nwhat measure of success the story does not say.  His house was kept by\nhis sister, who was present, of course, at the little luncheon party.\nDuring the meal some question was asked, or some remark was made, to\nwhich the clerical guest replied in English by a reference to \"the\nmaid-servant in pink\".\n\n\"There is no maid in pink,\" said the host, and he asked both his other\nguests to corroborate him.\n\nBoth ladies, mother and daughter, were obliged to say that unless\ntheir eyes deceived them, they certainly _had_ seen a girl in pink\nattending on them, or, at least, moving about in the room.  To this\ntheir entertainers earnestly replied that no such person was in their\nestablishment, that they had no woman servant but the elderly cook and\nhousekeeper, then present, who was neither a girl nor in pink.  After\nluncheon the guests were taken all over the house, to convince them of\nthe absence of the young woman whom they had seen, and assuredly there\nwas no trace of her.\n\nOn returning to the town where they reside, they casually mentioned\nthe circumstance as a curious illusion.  The person to whom they spoke\nsaid, with some interest, \"Don't you know that a girl is said to have\nbeen murdered in that house before your friends took it, and that she\nis reported to be occasionally seen, dressed in pink?\"\n\nThey had heard of no such matter, but the story seemed to be pretty\ngenerally known, though naturally disliked by the occupant of the\nhouse.  As for the percipients, they each and all remain firm in the\nbelief that, till convinced of the impossibility of her presence, they\nwere certain they had seen a girl in pink, and rather a pretty girl,\nwhose appearance suggested nothing out of the common.  An obvious\nhypothesis is discounted, of course, by the presence of the sister of\nthe young gentleman who farmed the estate and occupied the house.\n\nHere is another case, mild but pertinacious.\n\nTHE DOG IN THE HAUNTED ROOM\n\nThe author's friend, Mr. Rokeby, lives, and has lived for some twenty\nyears, in an old house at Hammersmith.  It is surrounded by a large\ngarden, the drawing-room and dining-room are on the right and left of\nthe entrance from the garden, on the ground floor.  My friends had\nnever been troubled by any phenomena before, and never expected to be.\nHowever, they found the house \"noisy,\" the windows were apt to be\nviolently shaken at night and steps used to be heard where no steps\nshould be.  Deep long sighs were audible at all times of day.  As Mrs.\nRokeby approached a door, the handle would turn and the door fly open.\n{196}  Sounds of stitching a hard material, and of dragging a heavy\nweight occurred in Mrs. Rokeby's room, and her hair used to be pulled\nin a manner for which she could not account.  \"These sorts of things\nwent on for about five years, when in October, 1875, about three\no'clock in the afternoon, I was sitting\" (says Mrs. Rokeby) \"with\nthree of my children in the dining-room, reading to them.  I rang the\nbell for the parlour-maid, when the door opened, and on looking up I\nsaw the figure of a woman come in and walk up to the side of the\ntable, stand there a second or two, and then turn to go out again, but\nbefore reaching the door she seemed to dissolve away.  She was a grey,\nshort-looking woman, apparently dressed in grey muslin.  I hardly saw\nthe face, which seemed scarcely to be defined at all.  None of the\nchildren saw her,\" and Mrs. Rokeby only mentioned the affair at the\ntime to her husband.\n\nTwo servants, in the next two months, saw the same figure, alike in\ndress at least, in other rooms both by daylight and candle light.\nThey had not heard of Mrs. Rokeby's experience, were accustomed to the\nnoises, and were in good health.  One of them was frightened, and left\nher place.\n\nA brilliant light in a dark room, an icy wind and a feeling of being\n\"watched\" were other discomforts in Mrs. Rokeby's lot.  After 1876,\nonly occasional rappings were heard, till Mr. Rokeby being absent one\nnight in 1883, the noises broke out, \"banging, thumping, the whole\nplace shaking\".  The library was the centre of these exercises, and\nthe dog, a fine collie, was shut up in the library.  Mrs. Rokeby left\nher room for her daughter's, while the dog whined in terror, and the\nnoises increased in violence.  Next day the dog, when let out, rushed\nforth with enthusiasm, but crouched with his tail between his legs\nwhen invited to re-enter.\n\nThis was in 1883.  Several years after, Mr. Rokeby was smoking, alone,\nin the dining-room early in the evening, when the dog began to bristle\nup his hair, and bark.  Mr. Rokeby looked up and saw the woman in\ngrey, with about half her figure passed through the slightly open\ndoor.  He ran to the door, but she was gone, and the servants were\nengaged in their usual business. {198a}\n\nOur next ghost offered many opportunities to observers.\n\nTHE LADY IN BLACK\n\nA ghost in a haunted house is seldom observed with anything like\nscientific precision.  The spectre in the following narrative could\nnot be photographed, attempts being usually made in a light which\nrequired prolonged exposure.  Efforts to touch it were failures, nor\ndid it speak.  On the other hand, it did lend itself, perhaps\nunconsciously, to one scientific experiment.  The story is unromantic;\nthe names are fictitious. {198b}\n\nBognor House, an eligible family residence near a large town, was\nbuilt in 1860, and occupied, till his death in 1876, by Mr. S.  He was\ntwice married, and was not of temperate ways.  His second wife adopted\nhis habits, left him shortly before his death, and died at Clifton in\n1878.  The pair used to quarrel about some jewels which Mr. S.\nconcealed in the flooring of a room where the ghost was never seen.\n\nA Mr L. now took the house, but died six months later.  Bognor House\nstood empty for four years, during which there was vague talk of\nhauntings.  In April, 1882, the house was taken by Captain Morton.\nThis was in April; in June Miss Rose Morton, a lady of nineteen\nstudying medicine (and wearing spectacles), saw the first appearance.\nMiss Morton did not mention her experiences to her family, her mother\nbeing an invalid, and her brothers and sisters very young, but she\ntransmitted accounts to a friend, a lady, in a kind of diary letters.\nThese are extant, and are quoted.\n\nPhenomena of this kind usually begin with noises, and go on to\napparitions.  Miss Morton one night, while preparing to go to bed,\nheard a noise outside, thought it was her mother, opened the door, saw\na tall lady in black holding a handkerchief to her face, and followed\nthe figure till her candle burned out.  A widow's white cuff was\nvisible on each wrist, the whole of the face was never seen.  In 1882-\n84, Miss Morton saw the figure about six times; it was thrice seen,\nonce through the window from outside, by other persons, who took it\nfor a living being.  Two boys playing in the garden ran in to ask who\nwas the weeping lady in black.\n\nOn 29th January, 1884, Miss Morton spoke to her inmate, as the lady in\nblack stood beside a sofa.  \"She only gave a slight gasp and moved\ntowards the door.  Just by the door I spoke to her again, but she\nseemed as if she were quite unable to speak.\" {199}  In May and June\nMiss Morton fastened strings at different heights from the stair\nrailings to the wall, where she attached them with glue, but she twice\nsaw the lady pass through the cords, leaving them untouched.  When\nMiss Morton cornered the figure and tried to touch her, or pounce on\nher, she dodged, or disappeared.  But by a curious contradiction her\nsteps were often heard by several of the family, and when she heard\nthe steps, Miss Morton used to go out and follow the figure.  There is\nreally no more to tell.  Miss Morton's father never saw the lady, even\nwhen she sat on a sofa for half an hour, Miss Morton watching her.\nOther people saw her in the garden crying, and sent messages to ask\nwhat was the matter, and who was the lady in distress.  Many members\nof the family, boys, girls, married ladies, servants and others often\nsaw the lady in black.  In 1885 loud noises, bumps and turning of door\nhandles were common, and though the servants were told that the lady\nwas quite harmless, they did not always stay.  The whole establishment\nof servants was gradually changed, but the lady still walked.  She\nappeared more seldom in 1887-1889, and by 1892 even the light\nfootsteps ceased.  Two dogs, a retriever and a Skye terrier, showed\nmuch alarm.  \"Twice,\" says Miss Morton, \"I saw the terrier suddenly\nrun up to the mat at the foot of the stairs in the hall, wagging its\ntail, and moving its back in the way dogs do when they expect to be\ncaressed.  It jumped up, fawning as it would do if a person had been\nstanding there, but suddenly slunk away with its tail between its\nlegs, and retreated, trembling, under a sofa.\"  Miss Morton's own\nemotion, at first, was \"a feeling of awe at something unknown, mixed\nwith a strong desire to know more about it\". {200}\n\nThis is a pretty tame case of haunting, as was conjectured, by an\nunhappy revenant, the returned spirit of the second Mrs. S.  Here it\nmay be remarked that apparitions in haunted houses are very seldom\nrecognised as those of dead persons, and, when recognised, the\nrecognition is usually dubious.  Thus, in February, 1897, Lieutenant\nCarr Glyn, of the Grenadiers, while reading in the outer room of the\nQueen's Library in Windsor, saw a lady in black in a kind of mantilla\nof black lace pass from the inner room into a corner where she was\nlost to view.  He supposed that she had gone out by a door there, and\nasked an attendant later who she was.  There was no door round the\ncorner, and, in the opinion of some, the lady was Queen Elizabeth!\nShe has a traditional habit, it seems, of haunting the Library.  But\nsurely, of all people, in dress and aspect Queen Elizabeth is most\neasily recognised.  The seer did not recognise her, and she was\nprobably a mere casual hallucination.  In old houses such traditions\nare common, but vague.  In this connection Glamis is usually\nmentioned.  Every one has heard of the Secret Chamber, with its\nmystery, and the story was known to Scott, who introduces it in The\nBetrothed.  But we know when the Secret Chamber was built (under the\nRestoration), who built it, what he paid the masons, and where it is:\nunder the Charter Room. {201}  These cold facts rather take the\n\"weird\" effect off the Glamis legend.\n\nThe usual process is, given an old house, first a noise, then a\nhallucination, actual or pretended, then a myth to account for the\nhallucination.  There is a castle on the border which has at least\nseven or eight distinct ghosts.  One is the famous Radiant Boy.  He\nhas been evicted by turning his tapestried chamber into the smoking-\nroom.  For many years not one ghost has been seen except the lady with\nthe candle, viewed by myself, but, being ignorant of the story, I\nthought she was one of the maids.  Perhaps she was, but she went into\nan empty set of rooms, and did not come out again.  Footsteps are apt\nto approach the doors of these rooms in mirk midnight, the door handle\nturns, and that is all.\n\nSo much for supposed hauntings by spirits of the dead.\n\nAt the opposite pole are hauntings by agencies whom nobody supposes to\nbe ghosts of inmates of the house.  The following is an extreme\nexample, as the haunter proceeded to arson.  This is not so very\nunusual, and, if managed by an impostor, shows insane malevolence.\n{202}\n\nTHE DANCING DEVIL\n\nOn 16th November, 1870, Mr. Shchapoff, a Russian squire, the narrator,\ncame home from a visit to a country town, Iletski, and found his\nfamily in some disarray.  There lived with him his mother and his\nwife's mother, ladies of about sixty-nine, his wife, aged twenty, and\nhis baby daughter.  The ladies had been a good deal disturbed.  On the\nnight of the 14th, the baby was fractious, and the cook, Maria, danced\nand played the harmonica to divert her.  The baby fell asleep, the\nwife and Mr. Shchapoff's miller's lady were engaged in conversation,\nwhen a shadow crossed the blind on the outside.  They were about to go\nout and see who was passing, when they heard a double shuffle being\nexecuted with energy in the loft overhead.  They thought Maria, the\ncook, was making a night of it, but found her asleep in the kitchen.\nThe dancing went on but nobody could be found in the loft.  Then raps\nbegan on the window panes, and so the miller and gardener patrolled\noutside.  Nobody!\n\nRaps and dancing lasted through most of the night and began again at\nten in the morning.  The ladies were incommoded and complained of\nbroken sleep.  Mr. Shchapoff, hearing all this, examined the miller,\nwho admitted the facts, but attributed them to a pigeon's nest, which\nhe had found under the cornice.  Satisfied with this rather elementary\nhypothesis, Mr. Shchapoff sat down to read Livingstone's African\nTravels.  Presently the double shuffle sounded in the loft.  Mrs.\nShchapoff was asleep in her bedroom, but was awakened by loud raps.\nThe window was tapped at, deafening thumps were dealt at the outer\nwall, and the whole house thrilled.  Mr. Shchapoff rushed out with\ndogs and a gun, there were no footsteps in the snow, the air was\nstill, the full moon rode in a serene sky.  Mr. Shchapoff came back,\nand the double shuffle was sounding merrily in the empty loft.  Next\nday was no better, but the noises abated and ceased gradually.\n\nAlas, Mr. Shchapoff could not leave well alone.  On 20th December, to\namuse a friend, he asked Maria to dance and play.  Raps, in tune,\nbegan on the window panes.  Next night they returned, while boots,\nslippers, and other objects, flew about with a hissing noise.  A piece\nof stuff would fly up and fall with a heavy hard thud, while hard\nbodies fell soundless as a feather.  The performances slowly died\naway.\n\nOn Old Year's Night Maria danced to please them; raps began, people\nwatching on either side of a wall heard the raps on the other side.\nOn 8th January, Mrs. Shchapoff fainted when a large, luminous ball\nfloated, increasing in size, from under her bed.  The raps now\nfollowed her about by day, as in the case of John Wesley's sisters.\nOn these occasions she felt weak and somnolent.  Finally Mr. Shchapoff\ncarried his family to his town house for much-needed change of air.\n\nScience, in the form of Dr. Shustoff, now hinted that electricity or\nmagnetic force was at the bottom of the annoyances, a great comfort to\nthe household, who conceived that the devil was concerned.  The doctor\naccompanied his friends to their country house for a night, Maria was\ninvited to oblige with a dance, and only a few taps on windows\nfollowed.  The family returned to town till 21st January.  No sooner\nwas Mrs. Shchapoff in bed than knives and forks came out of a closed\ncupboard and flew about, occasionally sticking in the walls.\n\nOn 24th January the doctor abandoned the hypothesis of electricity,\nbecause the noises kept time to profane but not to sacred music.  A\nTartar hymn by a Tartar servant, an Islamite, had no accompaniment,\nbut the Freischutz was warmly encored.\n\nThis went beyond the most intelligent spontaneous exercises of\nelectricity.  Questions were asked of the agencies, and to the\ninterrogation, \"Are you a devil?\" a most deafening knock replied.  \"We\nall jumped backwards.\"\n\nNow comes a curious point.  In the Wesley and Tedworth cases, the\nmasters of the houses, like the cure of Cideville (1851), were at odds\nwith local \"cunning men\".\n\nMr. Shchapoff's fiend now averred that he was \"set on\" by the servant\nof a neighbouring miller, with whom Mr. Shchapoff had a dispute about\na mill pond.  This man had previously said, \"It will be worse; they\nwill drag you by the hair\".  And, indeed, Mrs. Shchapoff was found in\ntears, because her hair had been pulled. {205}\n\nScience again intervened.  A section of the Imperial Geographical\nSociety sent Dr. Shustoff, Mr. Akutin (a Government civil engineer),\nand a literary gentleman, as a committee of inquiry appointed by the\ngovernor of the province.  They made a number of experiments with\nLeyden jars, magnets, and so forth, with only negative results.\nThings flew about, both _from_, and _towards_ Mrs. Shchapoff.  Nothing\nvolatile was ever seen to _begin_ its motion, though, in March, 1883,\nobjects were seen, by a policeman and six other witnesses, to fly up\nfrom a bin and out of a closed cupboard, in a house at Worksop. {206}\nMr. Akutin, in Mrs. Shchapoff's bedroom, found the noises answer\nquestions in French and German, on contemporary politics, of which the\nlady of the house knew nothing.  Lassalle was said to be alive, Mr.\nShchapoff remarked, \"What nonsense!\" but Mr. Akutin corrected him.\nThe bogey was better informed.  The success of the French in the great\nwar was predicted.\n\nThe family now moved to their town house, and the inquest continued,\nthough the raps were only heard near the lady.  A Dr. Dubinsky vowed\nthat she made them herself, with her tongue; then, with her pulse.\nThe doctor assailed, and finally shook the faith of Mr. Akutin, who\nwas to furnish a report.  \"He bribed a servant boy to say that his\nmistress made the sounds herself, and then pretended that he had\ncaught her trying to deceive us by throwing things.\"  Finally Mr.\nAkutin reported that the whole affair was a hysterical imposition by\nMrs. Shchapoff.  Dr. Dubinsky attended her, her health and spirits\nimproved, and the disturbances ceased.  But poor Mr. Shchapoff\nreceived an official warning not to do it again, from the governor of\nhis province.  That way lies Siberia.\n\n\"Imagine, then,\" exclaims Mr. Shchapoff, \"our horror, when, on our\nreturn to the country in March, the unknown force at once set to work\nagain.  And now even my wife's presence was not essential.  Thus, one\nday, I saw with my own eyes a heavy sofa jump off all four legs (three\nor four times in fact), and this when my aged mother was lying on it.\"\nThe same thing occurred to Nancy Wesley's bed, on which she was\nsitting while playing cards in 1717.  The picture of a lady of\nseventy, sitting tight to a bucking sofa, appeals to the brave.\n\nThen the fire-raising began.  A blue spark flew out of a wash-stand,\ninto Mrs. Shchapoff's bedroom.  Luckily she was absent, and her\nmother, rushing forward with a water-jug, extinguished a flaming\ncotton dress.  Bright red globular meteors now danced in the veranda.\nMr. Portnoff next takes up the tale as follows, Mr. Shchapoff having\nbeen absent from home on the occasion described.\n\n\"I was sitting playing the guitar.  The miller got up to leave, and\nwas followed by Mrs. Shchapoff.  Hardly had she shut the door, when I\nheard, as though from far off, a deep drawn wail.  The voice seemed\nfamiliar to me.  Overcome with an unaccountable horror I rushed to the\ndoor, and there in the passage I saw a literal pillar of fire, in the\nmiddle of which, draped in flame, stood Mrs. Shchapoff. . . . I rushed\nto put it out with my hands, but I found it burned them badly, as if\nthey were sticking to burning pitch.  A sort of cracking noise came\nfrom beneath the floor, which also shook and vibrated violently.\"  Mr.\nPortnoff and the miller \"carried off the unconscious victim\".\n\nMr. Shchapoff also saw a small pink hand, like a child's, spring from\nthe floor, and play with Mrs. Shchapoff's coverlet, in bed.  These\nthings were too much; the Shchapoffs fled to a cottage, and took a new\ncountry house.  They had no more disturbances.  Mrs. Shchapoff died in\nchild-bed, in 1878, \"a healthy, religious, quiet, affectionate woman\".\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\nModern Hauntings\n\n\nThe Shchapoff Story of a Peculiar Type.  \"Demoniacal Possession.\"\nStory of Wellington Mill briefly analysed.  Authorities for the Story.\nLetters.  A Journal.  The Wesley Ghost.  Given Critically and Why.\nNote on similar Stories, such as the Drummer of Tedworth.  Sir Waller\nScott's Scepticism about Nautical Evidence.  Lord St. Vincent.  Scott\nasks Where are his Letters on a Ghostly Disturbance.  The Letters are\nnow Published.  Lord St. Vincent's Ghost Story.  Reflections.\n\nCases like that of Mrs. Shchapoff really belong to a peculiar species\nof haunted houses.  Our ancestors, like the modern Chinese, attributed\nthem to diabolical possession, not to an ordinary ghost of a dead\nperson.  Examples are very numerous, and have all the same \"symptoms,\"\nas Coleridge would have said, he attributing them to a contagious\nnervous malady of observation in the spectators.  Among the most\nnotorious is the story of Willington Mill, told by Howitt, and\nborrowed by Mrs. Crowe, in The Night Side of Nature.  Mr. Procter, the\noccupant, a Quaker, vouched to Mrs. Crowe for the authenticity of\nHowitt's version. (22nd July, 1847.)  Other letters from seers are\npublished, and the Society of Psychical Research lately printed Mr.\nProcter's contemporary journal.  A man, a woman, and a monkey were the\nchief apparitions.  There were noises, lights, beds were heaved about:\nnothing was omitted.  A clairvoyante was turned on, but could only say\nthat the spectral figures, which she described, \"had no brains\".\nAfter the Quakers left the house there seems to have been no more\ntrouble.  The affair lasted for fifteen years.\n\nFamiliar as it is, we now offer the old story of the hauntings at\nEpworth, mainly because a full view of the inhabitants, the\nextraordinary family of Wesley, seems necessary to an understanding of\nthe affair.  The famous and excessively superstitious John Wesley was\nnot present on the occasion.\n\nTHE WESLEY GHOST\n\nNo ghost story is more celebrated than that of Old Jeffrey, the spirit\nso named by Emily Wesley, which disturbed the Rectory at Epworth,\nchiefly in the December of 1716 and the spring of 1717.  Yet the\nvagueness of the human mind has led many people, especially\njournalists, to suppose that the haunted house was that, not of Samuel\nWesley, but of his son John Wesley, the founder of the Wesleyan\nMethodists.  For the better intelligence of the tale, we must know who\nthe inmates of the Epworth Rectory were, and the nature of their\ncharacters and pursuits.  The rector was the Rev. Samuel Wesley, born\nin 1662, the son of a clergyman banished from his living on \"Black\nBartholomew Day,\" 1666.  Though educated among Dissenters, Samuel\nWesley converted himself to the truth as it is in the Church of\nEngland, became a \"poor scholar\" of Exeter College in Oxford,\nsupported himself mainly by hack-work in literature (he was one of the\neditors of a penny paper called The Athenian Mercury, a sort of\nAnswers), married Miss Susanna Annesley, a lady of good family, in\n1690-91, and in 1693 was presented to the Rectory of Epworth in\nLincolnshire by Mary, wife of William of Orange, to whom he had\ndedicated a poem on the life of Christ.  The living was poor, Mr.\nWesley's family multiplied with amazing velocity, he was in debt, and\nunpopular.  His cattle were maimed in 1705, and in 1703 his house was\nburned down.  The Rectory House, of which a picture is given in\nClarke's Memoirs of the Wesleys, 1825, was built anew at his own\nexpense.  Mr. Wesley was in politics a strong Royalist, but having\nseen James II. shake \"his lean arm\" at the Fellows of Magdalen\nCollege, and threaten them \"with the weight of a king's right hand,\"\nhe conceived a prejudice against that monarch, and took the side of\nthe Prince of Orange.  His wife, a very pious woman and a strict\ndisciplinarian, was a Jacobite, would not say \"amen\" to the prayers\nfor \"the king,\" and was therefore deserted by her husband for a year\nor more in 1701-1702.  They came together again, however, on the\naccession of Queen Anne.\n\nUnpopular for his politics, hated by the Dissenters, and at odds with\nthe \"cunning men,\" or local wizards against whom he had frequently\npreached, Mr. Wesley was certainly apt to have tricks played on him by\nhis neighbours.  His house, though surrounded by a wall, a hedge, and\nits own grounds, was within a few yards of the nearest dwelling in the\nvillage street.\n\nIn 1716, when the disturbances began, Mr. Wesley's family consisted of\nhis wife; his eldest son, Sam, aged about twenty-three, and then\nabsent at his duties as an usher at Westminster; John, aged twelve, a\nboy at Westminster School; Charles, a boy of eight, away from home,\nand the girls, who were all at the parsonage.  They were Emily, about\ntwenty-two, Mary, Nancy and Sukey, probably about twenty-one, twenty\nand nineteen, and Hetty, who may have been anything between nineteen\nand twelve, but who comes after John in Dr. Clarke's list, and is\napparently reckoned among \"the children\". {212}  Then there was Patty,\nwho may have been only nine, and little Keziah.\n\nAll except Patty were very lively young people, and Hetty, afterwards\na copious poet, \"was gay and sprightly, full of mirth, good-humour,\nand keen wit.  She indulged this disposition so much that it was said\nto have given great uneasiness to her parents.\"  The servants, Robin\nBrown, Betty Massy and Nancy Marshall, were recent comers, but were\nacquitted by Mrs. Wesley of any share in the mischief.  The family,\nthough, like other people of their date, they were inclined to believe\nin witches and \"warnings,\" were not especially superstitious, and\nregarded the disturbances, first with some apprehension, then as a\njoke, and finally as a bore.\n\nThe authorities for what occurred are, first, a statement and journal\nby Mr. Wesley, then a series of letters of 1717 to Sam at Westminster\nby his mother, Emily and Sukey, next a set of written statements made\nby these and other witnesses to John Wesley in 1726, and last and\nworst, a narrative composed many years after by John Wesley for The\nArminian Magazine.\n\nThe earliest document, by a few days, is the statement of Mr. Wesley,\nwritten, with a brief journal, between 21st December, 1716, and 1st\nJanuary, 1717.  Comparing this with Mrs. Wesley's letter to Sam of\n12th January, 1716 and Sukey's letter of 24th January, we learn that\nthe family for some weeks after 1st December had been \"in the greatest\npanic imaginable,\" supposing that Sam, Jack, or Charlie (who must also\nhave been absent from home) was dead, \"or by some misfortune killed\".\nThe reason for these apprehensions was that on the night of 1st\nDecember the maid \"heard at the dining-room door several dreadful\ngroans, like a person in extremes\".  They laughed at her, but for the\nwhole of December \"the groans, squeaks, tinglings and knockings were\nfrightful enough\".  The rest of the family (Mr. Wesley always\nexcepted) \"heard a strange knocking in divers places,\" chiefly in the\ngreen room, or nursery, where (apparently) Hetty, Patty and Keziah\nlay.  Emily heard the noises later than some of her sisters, perhaps a\nweek after the original groans.  She was locking up the house about\nten o'clock when a sound came like the smashing and splintering of a\nhuge piece of coal on the kitchen floor.  She and Sukey went through\nthe rooms on the ground floor, but found the dog asleep, the cat at\nthe other end of the house, and everything in order.  From her bedroom\nEmily heard a noise of breaking the empty bottles under the stairs,\nbut was going to bed, when Hetty, who had been sitting on the lowest\nstep of the garret stairs beside the nursery door, waiting for her\nfather, was chased into the nursery by a sound as of a man passing her\nin a loose trailing gown.  Sukey and Nancy were alarmed by loud knocks\non the outside of the dining-room door and overhead.  All this time\nMr. Wesley heard nothing, and was not even told that anything unusual\nwas heard.  Mrs. Wesley at first held her peace lest he should think\nit \"according to the vulgar opinion, a warning against his own death,\nwhich, indeed, we all apprehended\".  Mr. Wesley only smiled when he\nwas informed; but, by taking care to see all the girls safe in bed,\nsufficiently showed his opinion that the young ladies and their lovers\nwere the ghost.  Mrs. Wesley then fell back on the theory of rats, and\nemployed a man to blow a horn as a remedy against these vermin.  But\nthis measure only aroused the emulation of the sprite, whom Emily\nbegan to call \"Jeffrey\".\n\nNot till 21st December did Mr. Wesley hear anything, then came\nthumpings on his bedroom wall.  Unable to discover the cause, he\nprocured a stout mastiff, which soon became demoralised by his\nexperiences.  On the morning of the 24th, about seven o'clock, Emily\nled Mrs. Wesley into the nursery, where she heard knocks on and under\nthe bedstead; these sounds replied when she knocked.  Something \"like\na badger, with no head,\" says Emily; Mrs. Wesley only says, \"like a\nbadger,\" ran from under the bed.  On the night of the 25th there was\nan appalling vacarme.  Mr. and Mrs. Wesley went on a tour of\ninspection, but only found the mastiff whining in terror.  \"We still\nheard it rattle and thunder in every room above or behind us, locked\nas well as open, except my study, where as yet it never came.\"  On the\nnight of the 26th Mr. Wesley seems to have heard of a phenomenon\nalready familiar to Emily--\"something like the quick winding up of a\njack, at the corner of the room by my bed head\".  This was always\nfollowed by knocks, \"hollow and loud, such as none of us could ever\nimitate\".  Mr. Wesley went into the nursery, Hetty, Kezzy and Patty\nwere asleep.  The knocks were loud, beneath and in the room, so Mr.\nWesley went below to the kitchen, struck with his stick against the\nrafters, and was answered \"as often and as loud as I knocked\".  The\npeculiar knock which was his own, 1-23456-7, was not successfully\nechoed at that time.  Mr. Wesley then returned to the nursery, which\nwas as tapageuse as ever.  The children, three, were trembling in\ntheir sleep.  Mr. Wesley invited the agency to an interview in his\nstudy, was answered by one knock outside, \"all the rest were within,\"\nand then came silence.  Investigations outside produced no result, but\nthe latch of the door would rise and fall, and the door itself was\npushed violently back against investigators.\n\n\"I have been with Hetty,\" says Emily, \"when it has knocked under her,\nand when she has removed has followed her,\" and it knocked under\nlittle Kezzy, when \"she stamped with her foot, pretending to scare\nPatty.\"\n\nMr. Wesley had requested an interview in his study, especially as the\nJacobite goblin routed loudly \"over our heads constantly, when we came\nto the prayers for King George and the prince\".  In his study the\nagency pushed Mr. Wesley about, bumping him against the corner of his\ndesk, and against his door.  He would ask for a conversation, but\nheard only \"two or three feeble squeaks, a little louder than the\nchirping of a bird, but not like the noise of rats, which I have often\nheard\".\n\nMr. Wesley had meant to leave home for a visit on Friday, 28th\nDecember, but the noises of the 27th were so loud that he stayed at\nhome, inviting the Rev. Mr. Hoole, of Haxey, to view the performances.\n\"The noises were very boisterous and disturbing this night.\"  Mr.\nHoole says (in 1726, confirmed by Mrs. Wesley, 12th January, 1717)\nthat there were sounds of feet, trailing gowns, raps, and a noise as\nof planing boards:  the disturbance finally went outside the house and\ndied away.  Mr. Wesley seems to have paid his visit on the 30th, and\nnotes, \"1st January, 1717.  My family have had no disturbance since I\nwent away.\"\n\nTo judge by Mr. Wesley's letter to Sam, of 12th January, there was no\ntrouble between the 29th of December and that date.  On the 19th of\nJanuary, and the 30th of the same month, Sam wrote, full of curiosity,\nto his father and mother.  Mrs. Wesley replied (25th or 27th January),\nsaying that no explanation could be discovered, but \"it commonly was\nnearer Hetty than the rest\".  On 24th January, Sukey said \"it is now\npretty quiet, but still knocks at prayers for the king.\"  On 11th\nFebruary, Mr. Wesley, much bored by Sam's inquiries, says, \"we are all\nnow quiet. . . .  It would make a glorious penny book for Jack\nDunton,\" his brother-in-law, a publisher of popular literature, such\nas the Athenian Mercury.  Emily (no date) explains the phenomena as\nthe revenge for her father's recent sermons \"against consulting those\nthat are called cunning men, which our people are given to, and _it\nhad a particular spite at my father_\".\n\nThe disturbances by no means ended in the beginning of January, nor at\nother dates when a brief cessation made the Wesleys hope that Jeffrey\nhad returned to his own place.  Thus on 27th March, Sukey writes to\nSam, remarking that as Hetty and Emily are also writing \"so\nparticularly,\" she need not say much.  \"One thing I believe you do not\nknow, that is, last Sunday, to my father's no small amazement, his\ntrencher danced upon the table a pretty while, without anybody's\nstirring the table. . . .  Send me some news for we are excluded from\nthe sight or hearing of any versal thing, except Jeffery.\"\n\nThe last mention of the affair, at this time, is in a letter from\nEmily, of 1st April, to a Mr. Berry.\n\n\"Tell my brother the sprite was with us last night, and heard by many\nof our family.\"  There are no other contemporary letters preserved,\nbut we may note Mrs. Wesley's opinion (25th January) that it was\n\"beyond the power of any human being to make such strange and various\nnoises\".\n\nThe next evidence is ten years after date, the statements taken down\nby Jack Wesley in 1726 (1720?).  Mrs. Wesley adds to her former\naccount that she \"earnestly desired it might not disturb her\" (at her\ndevotions) \"between five and six in the evening,\" and it did not rout\nin her room at that time.  Emily added that a screen was knocked at on\neach side as she went round to the other.  Sukey mentioned the noise\nas, on one occasion, coming gradually from the garret stairs, outside\nthe nursery door, up to Hetty's bed, \"who trembled strongly in her\nsleep.  It then removed to the room overhead, where it knocked my\nfather's knock on the ground, as if it would beat the house down.\"\nNancy said that the noise used to follow her, or precede her, and once\na bed, on which she sat playing cards, was lifted up under her several\ntimes to a considerable height.  Robin, the servant, gave evidence\nthat he was greatly plagued with all manner of noises and movements of\nobjects.\n\nJohn Wesley, in his account published many years after date in his\nArminian Magazine, attributed the affair of 1716 to his father's\nbroken vow of deserting his mother till she recognised the Prince of\nOrange as king!  He adds that the mastiff \"used to tremble and creep\naway before the noise began\".\n\nSome other peculiarities may be noted.  All persons did not always\nhear the noises.  It was three weeks before Mr. Wesley heard anything.\n\"John and Kitty Maw, who lived over against us, listened several\nnights in the time of the disturbance, but could never hear anything.\"\nAgain, \"The first time my mother ever heard any unusual noise at\nEpworth was long before the disturbance of old Jeffrey . . . the door\nand windows jarred very loud, and presently several distinct strokes,\nthree by three, were struck.  From that night it never failed to give\nnotice in much the same manner, against any signal misfortune or\nillness of any belonging to the family,\" writes Jack.\n\nOnce more, on 10th February, 1750, Emily (now Mrs. Harper) wrote to\nher brother John, \"that wonderful thing called by us Jeffery, how\ncertainly it calls on me against any extraordinary new affliction\".\n\nThis is practically all the story of Old Jeffrey.  The explanations\nhave been, trickery by servants (Priestley), contagious hallucinations\n(Coleridge), devilry (Southey), and trickery by Hetty Wesley (Dr.\nSalmon, of Trinity College, Dublin).  Dr. Salmon points out that there\nis no evidence from Hetty; that she was a lively, humorous girl, and\nhe conceives that she began to frighten the maids, and only\nreluctantly exhibited before her father against whom, however, Jeffrey\ndeveloped \"a particular spite\".  He adds that certain circumstances\nwere peculiar to Hetty, which, in fact, is not the case.  The present\neditor has examined Dr. Salmon's arguments in The Contemporary Review,\nand shown reason, in the evidence, for acquitting Hetty Wesley, who\nwas never suspected by her family.\n\nTrickery from without, by \"the cunning men,\" is an explanation which,\nat least, provides a motive, but how the thing could be managed from\nwithout remains a mystery.  Sam Wesley, the friend of Pope, and\nAtterbury, and Lord Oxford, not unjustly said:  \"Wit, I fancy, might\nfind many interpretations, but wisdom none\". {220}\n\nAs the Wesley tale is a very typical instance of a very large class,\nour study of it may exempt us from printing the well-known parallel\ncase of \"The Drummer of Tedworth\".  Briefly, the house of Mr.\nMompesson, near Ludgarshal, in Wilts, was disturbed in the usual way,\nfor at least two years, from April, 1661, to April, 1663, or later.\nThe noises, and copious phenomena of moving objects apparently\nuntouched, were attributed to the unholy powers of a wandering\ndrummer, deprived by Mr. Mompesson of his drum.  A grand jury\npresented the drummer for trial, on a charge of witchcraft, but the\npetty jury would not convict, there being a want of evidence to prove\nthreats, malum minatum, by the drummer.  In 1662 the Rev. Joseph\nGlanvil, F.R.S., visited the house, and, in the bedroom of Mr.\nMompesson's little girls, the chief sufferers, heard and saw much the\nsame phenomena as the elder Wesley describes in his own nursery.  The\n\"little modest girls\" were aged about seven and eight.  Charles II.\nsent some gentlemen to the house for one night, when nothing occurred,\nthe disturbances being intermittent.  Glanvil published his narrative\nat the time, and Mr. Pepys found it \"not very convincing\".  Glanvil,\nin consequence of his book, was so vexed by correspondents \"that I\nhave been haunted almost as bad as Mr. Mompesson's house\".  A report\nthat imposture had been discovered, and confessed by Mr. Mompesson,\nwas set afloat, by John Webster, in a well-known work, and may still\nbe found in modern books.  Glanvil denied it till he was \"quite\ntired,\" and Mompesson gave a formal denial in a letter dated Tedworth,\n8th November, 1672.  He also, with many others, swore to the facts on\noath, in court, at the drummer's trial. {221}\n\nIn the Tedworth case, as at Epworth, and in the curious Cideville case\nof 1851, a quarrel with \"cunning men\" preceded the disturbances.  In\nLord St. Vincent's case, which follows, nothing of the kind is\nreported.  As an almost universal rule children, especially girls of\nabout twelve, are centres of the trouble; in the St. Vincent story,\nthe children alone were exempt from annoyance.\n\nLORD ST. VINCENT'S GHOST STORY\n\nSir Walter Scott, writing about the disturbances in the house occupied\nby Mrs. Ricketts, sister of the great admiral, Lord St. Vincent, asks:\n\"Who has seen Lord St. Vincent's letters?\"  He adds that the gallant\nadmiral, after all, was a sailor, and implies that \"what the sailor\nsaid\" (if he said anything) \"is not evidence\".\n\nThe fact of unaccountable disturbances which finally drove Mrs.\nRicketts out of Hinton Ampner, is absolutely indisputable, though the\ncause of the annoyances may remain as mysterious as ever.  The\ncontemporary correspondence (including that of Lord St. Vincent, then\nCaptain Jervis) exists, and has been edited by Mrs. Henley Jervis,\ngrand-daughter of Mrs. Ricketts. {222}\n\nThere is only the very vaguest evidence for hauntings at Lady\nHillsborough's old house of Hinton Ampner, near Alresford, before Mr.\nRicketts took it in January, 1765.  He and his wife were then\ndisturbed by footsteps, and sounds of doors opening and shutting.\nThey put new locks on the doors lest the villagers had procured keys,\nbut this proved of no avail.  The servants talked of seeing\nappearances of a gentleman in drab and of a lady in silk, which Mrs.\nRicketts disregarded.  Her husband went to Jamaica in the autumn of\n1769, and in 1771 she was so disturbed that her brother, Captain\nJervis, a witness of the phenomena, insisted on her leaving the house\nin August.  He and Mrs. Ricketts then wrote to Mr. Ricketts about the\naffair.  In July, 1772, Mrs. Ricketts wrote a long and solemn\ndescription of her sufferings, to be given to her children.\n\nWe shall slightly abridge her statement, in which she mentions that\nwhen she left Hinton she had not one of the servants who came thither\nin her family, which \"evinces the impossibility of a confederacy\".\nHer new, like her former servants, were satisfactory; Camis, her new\ncoachman, was of a yeoman house of 400 years' standing.  It will be\nobserved that Mrs. Ricketts was a good deal annoyed even _before_ 2nd\nApril, 1771, the day when she dates the beginning of the worst\ndisturbances.  She believed that the agency was human--a robber or a\npractical joker--and but slowly and reluctantly became convinced that\nthe \"exploded\" notion of an abnormal force might be correct.  We learn\nthat while Captain Jervis was not informed of the sounds he never\nheard them, and whereas Mrs. Ricketts heard violent noises after he\nwent to bed on the night of his vigil, he heard nothing.  \"Several\ninstances occurred where very loud noises were heard by one or two\npersons, when those equally near and in the same direction were not\nsensible of the least impression.\" {223}\n\nWith this preface, Mrs. Ricketts may be allowed to tell her own tale.\n\n\"Sometime after Mr. Ricketts left me (autumn, 1769) I--then lying in\nthe bedroom over the kitchen--heard frequently the noise of some one\nwalking in the room within, and the rustling as of silk clothes\nagainst the door that opened into my room, sometimes so loud, and of\nsuch continuance as to break my rest.  Instant search being often\nmade, we never could discover any appearance of human or brute being.\nRepeatedly disturbed in the same manner, I made it my constant\npractice to search the room and closets within, and to secure the only\ndoor on the inside. . . .  Yet this precaution did not preclude the\ndisturbance, which continued with little interruption.\"\n\nNobody, in short, could enter this room, except by passing through\nthat of Mrs. Ricketts, the door of which \"was always made fast by a\ndrawn bolt\".  Yet somebody kept rustling and walking in the inner\nroom, which somebody could never be found when sought for.\n\nIn summer, 1770, Mrs. Ricketts heard someone walk to the foot of her\nbed in her own room, \"the footsteps as distinct as ever I heard,\nmyself perfectly awake and collected\".  Nobody could be discovered in\nthe chamber.  Mrs. Ricketts boldly clung to her room, and was only now\nand then disturbed by \"sounds of harmony,\" and heavy thumps, down\nstairs.  After this, and early in 1771, she was \"frequently sensible\nof a hollow murmuring that seemed to possess the whole house:  it was\nindependent of wind, being equally heard on the calmest nights, and it\nwas a sound I had never been accustomed to hear\".\n\nOn 27th February, 1771, a maid was alarmed by \"groans and fluttering\nround her bed\":  she was \"the sister of an eminent grocer in\nAlresford\".  On 2nd April, Mrs. Ricketts heard people walking in the\nlobby, hunted for burglars, traced the sounds to a room whence their\nwas no outlet, and found nobody.  This kind of thing went on till Mrs.\nRicketts despaired of any natural explanation.  After mid-summer,\n1771, the trouble increased, in broad daylight, and a shrill female\nvoice, answered by two male voices was added to the afflictions.\nCaptain Jervis came on a visit, but was told of nothing, and never\nheard anything.  After he went to Portsmouth, \"the most deep, loud\ntremendous noise seemed to rush and fall with infinite velocity and\nforce on the lobby floor adjoining my room,\" accompanied by a shrill\nand dreadful shriek, seeming to proceed from under the spot where the\nrushing noise fell, and repeated three or four times.\n\nMrs. Ricketts' \"resolution remained firm,\" but her health was\nimpaired; she tried changing her room, without results.  The\ndisturbances pursued her.  Her brother now returned.  She told him\nnothing, and he heard nothing, but next day she unbosomed herself.\nCaptain Jervis therefore sat up with Captain Luttrell and his own man.\nHe was rewarded by noises which he in vain tried to pursue.  \"I should\ndo great injustice to my sister\" (he writes to Mr. Ricketts on 9th\nAugust, 1771), \"if I did not acknowledge to have heard what I could\nnot, after the most diligent search and serious reflection, any way\naccount for.\"  Captain Jervis during a whole week slept by day, and\nwatched, armed, by night.  Even by day he was disturbed by a sound as\nof immense weights falling from the ceiling to the floor of his room.\nHe finally obliged his sister to leave the house.\n\nWhat occurred after Mrs. Ricketts abandoned Hinton is not very\ndistinct.  Apparently Captain Jervis's second stay of a week, when he\ndid hear the noises, was from 1st August to 8th August.  From a\nstatement by Mrs. Ricketts it appears that, when her brother joined\nhis ship, the Alarm (9th August), she retired to Dame Camis's house,\nthat of her coachman's mother.  Thence she went, and made another\nattempt to live at Hinton, but was \"soon after assailed by a noise I\nnever before heard, very near me, and the terror I felt not to be\ndescribed\".  She therefore went to the Newbolts, and thence to the old\nPalace at Winton; later, on Mr. Ricketts' return, to the Parsonage,\nand then to Longwood (to the _old_ house there) near Alresford.\n\nMeanwhile, on 18th September, Lady Hillsborough's agent lay with armed\nmen at Hinton, and, making no discovery, offered 50 pounds (increased\nby Mr. Ricketts to 100 pounds) for the apprehension of the persons who\ncaused the noises.  The reward was never claimed.  On 8th March, 1772,\nCamis wrote:  \"I am very sorry that we cannot find out the reason of\nthe noise\"; at other dates he mentions sporadic noises heard by his\nmother and another woman, including \"the murmur\".  A year after Mrs.\nRicketts left a family named Lawrence took the house, and, according\nto old Lucy Camis, in 1818, Mr. Lawrence very properly threatened to\ndismiss any servant who spoke of the disturbances.  The result of this\nsensible course was that the Lawrences left suddenly, at the end of\nthe year--and the house was pulled down.  Some old political papers of\nthe Great Rebellion, and a monkey's skull, not exhibited to any\nanatomist, are said to have been discovered under the floor of the\nlobby, or of one of the rooms.  Mrs. Ricketts adds sadly, \"The\nunbelief of Chancellor Hoadley went nearest my heart,\" as he had\npreviously a high opinion of her veracity.  The Bishop of St. Asaph\nwas incredulous, \"on the ground that such means were unworthy of the\nDeity to employ\".\n\nProbably a modern bishop would say that there were no noises at all,\nthat every one who heard the sounds was under the influence of\n\"suggestion,\" caused first in Mrs. Ricketts' own mind by vague tales\nof a gentleman in drab seen by the servants.\n\nThe contagion, to be sure, also reached two distinguished captains in\nthe navy, but not till one of them was told about disturbances which\nhad not previously disturbed him.  If this explanation be true, it\ncasts an unusual light on the human imagination.  Physical science has\nlately invented a new theory.  Disturbances of this kind are perhaps\n\"seismic,\"--caused by earthquakes!  (See Professor Milne, in The\nTimes, 21st June, 1897.)\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\n\nA Question for Physicians.  Professor William James's Opinion.\nHysterical Disease?  Little Hands.  Domestic Arson.  The Wem Case.\n\"The Saucepan began it.\"  The Nurse-maid.  Boots Fly Off.\nInvestigation.  Emma's Partial Confession.  Corroborative Evidence.\nQuestion of Disease Repeated.  Chinese Cases.  Haunted Mrs. Chang.\nMr. Niu's Female Slave.  The Great Amherst Mystery.  Run as a Show.\nFailure.  Later Miracles.  The Fire-raiser Arrested.  Parallels.  A\nHighland Case.  A Hero of the Forty-Five.  Donald na Bocan.  Donald's\nHymn.  Icelandic Cases.  The Devil of Hjalta-stad.  The Ghost at\nGarpsdal.\n\nMORE HAUNTED HOUSES\n\nA physician, as we have seen, got the better of the demon in Mrs.\nShchapoff's case, at least while the lady was under his care.  Really\nthese disturbances appear to demand the attention of medical men.  If\nthe whole phenomena are caused by imposture, the actors, or actresses,\ndisplay a wonderful similarity of symptoms and an alarming taste for\nfire-raising.  Professor William James, the well-known psychologist,\nmentions ten cases whose resemblances \"suggest a natural type,\" and we\nask, is it a type of hysterical disease? {229}  He chooses, among\nothers, an instance in Dr. Nevius's book on Demon Possession in China,\nand there is another in Peru.  He also mentions The Great Amherst\nMystery, which we give, and the Rerrick case in Scotland (1696),\nrelated by Telfer, who prints, on his margins, the names of the\nattesting witnesses of each event, lairds, clergymen, and farmers.  At\nRerrick, as in Russia, the _little hand_ was seen by Telfer himself,\nand the fire-raising was endless.  At Amherst too, as in a pair of\nrecent Russian cases and others, there was plenty of fire-raising.  By\na lucky chance an English case occurred at Wem, in Shropshire, in\nNovember, 1883.  It began at a farm called the Woods, some ten miles\nfrom Shrewsbury.  First a saucepan full of eggs \"jumped\" off the fire\nin the kitchen, and the tea-things, leaping from the table, were\nbroken.  Cinders \"were thrown out of the fire,\" and set some clothes\nin a blaze.  A globe leaped off a lamp.  A farmer, Mr. Lea, saw all\nthe windows of the upper story \"as it were on fire,\" but it was no\nsuch matter.  The nurse-maid ran out in a fright, to a neighbour's,\nand her dress spontaneously combusted as she ran.  The people\nattributed these and similar events, to something in the coal, or in\nthe air, or to electricity.  When the nurse-girl, Emma Davies, sat on\nthe lap of the school mistress, Miss Maddox, her boots kept flying\noff, like the boot laces in The Daemon of Spraiton.\n\nAll this was printed in the London papers, and, on 15th November, The\nDaily Telegraph and Daily News published Emma's confession that she\nwrought by sleight of hand and foot.  On 17th November, Mr. Hughes\nwent from Cambridge to investigate.  For some reason investigation\nnever begins till the fun is over.  On the 9th the girl, now in a very\nnervous state (no wonder!) had been put under the care of a Dr.\nMackey.  This gentleman and Miss Turner said that things had occurred\nsince Emma came, for which they could not account.  On 13th November,\nhowever, Miss Turner, looking out of a window, spotted Emma throwing a\nbrick, and pretending that the flight of the brick was automatic.\nNext day Emma confessed to her tricks, but steadfastly denied that she\nhad cheated at Woods Farm, and Weston Lullingfield, where she had also\nbeen.  Her evidence to this effect was so far confirmed by Mrs.\nHampson of Woods Farm, and her servant, Priscilla Evans, when examined\nby Mr. Hughes.  Both were \"quite certain\" that they saw crockery rise\nby itself into air off the kitchen table, when Emma was at a\nneighbouring farm, Mr. Lea's.  Priscilla also saw crockery come out of\na cupboard, in detachments, and fly between her and Emma, usually in a\nslanting direction, while Emma stood by with her arms folded.  Yet\nPriscilla was not on good terms with Emma.  Unless, then, Mrs. Hampson\nand Priscilla fabled, it is difficult to see how Emma could move\nobjects when she was \"standing at some considerable distance,\nstanding, in fact, in quite another farm\".\n\nSimilar evidence was given and signed by Miss Maddox, the\nschoolmistress, and Mr. and Mrs. Lea.  On the other hand Mrs. Hampson\nand Priscilla believed that Emma managed the fire-raising herself.\nThe flames were \"very high and white, and the articles were very\nlittle singed\".  This occurred also at Rerrick, in 1696, but Mr.\nHughes attributes it to Emma's use of paraffin, which does not apply\nto the Rerrick case.  Paraffin smells a good deal--nothing is said\nabout a smell of paraffin.\n\nOnly one thing is certain:  Emma was at last caught in a cheat.  This\ndiscredits her, but a man who cheats at cards _may_ hold a good hand\nby accident.  In the same way, if such wonders can happen (as so much\nworld-wide evidence declares), they _may_ have happened at Woods Farm,\nand Emma, \"in a very nervous state,\" _may_ have feigned then, or\nrather did feign them later.\n\nThe question for the medical faculty is:  Does a decided taste for\nwilful fire-raising often accompany exhibitions of dancing furniture\nand crockery, gratuitously given by patients of hysterical\ntemperament?  This is quite a normal inquiry.  Is there a nervous\nmalady of which the symptoms are domestic arson, and amateur leger-de-\nmain?  The complaint, if it exists, is of very old standing and wide\nprevalence, including Russia, Scotland, New England, France, Iceland,\nGermany, China and Peru.\n\nAs a proof of the identity of symptoms in this malady, we give a\nChinese case.  The Chinese, as to diabolical possession, are precisely\nof the same opinion as the inspired authors of the Gospels.  People\nare \"possessed,\" and, like the woman having a spirit of divination in\nthe Acts of the Apostles, make a good thing out of it.  Thus Mrs. Ku\nwas approached by a native Christian.  She became rigid and her demon,\nspeaking through her, acknowledged the Catholic verity, and said that\nif Mrs. Ku were converted he would have to leave.  On recovering her\neveryday consciousness, Mrs. Ku asked what Tsehwa, her demon, had\nsaid.  The Christian told her, and perhaps she would have deserted her\nerroneous courses, but her fellow-villagers implored her to pay homage\nto the demon.  They were in the habit of resorting to it for medical\nadvice (as people do to Mrs. Piper's demon in the United States), so\nMrs. Ku decided to remain in the business. {232}  The parallel to the\ncase in the Acts is interesting.\n\nHAUNTED MRS. CHANG\n\nMr. Chang, of that ilk (Chang Chang Tien-ts), was a man of fifty-\nseven, and a graduate in letters.  The ladies of his family having\naccommodated a demon with a shrine in his house, Mr. Chang said he\n\"would have none of that nonsense\".  The spirit then entered into Mrs.\nChang, and the usual fire-raising began all over the place.  The\nfurniture and crockery danced in the familiar way, and objects took to\ndisappearing mysteriously, even when secured under lock and key.  Mr.\nChang was as unlucky as Mr. Chin.  At _his_ house \"doors would open of\ntheir own accord, footfalls were heard, as of persons walking in the\nhouse, although no one could be seen.  Plates, bowls and the teapot\nwould suddenly rise from the table into the air.\" {233a}\n\nMrs. Chang now tried the off chance of there being something in\nChristianity, stayed with a native Christian (the narrator), and felt\nmuch better.  She could enjoy her meals, and was quite a new woman.\nAs her friend could not go home with her, Mrs. Fung, a native\nChristian, resided for a while at Mr. Chang's; \"comparative quiet was\nrestored,\" and Mrs. Fung retired to her family.\n\nThe symptoms returned; the native Christian was sent for, and found\nMr. Chang's establishment full of buckets of water for extinguishing\nthe sudden fires.  Mrs. Chang's daughter-in-law was now possessed, and\n\"drank wine in large quantities, though ordinarily she would not touch\nit\".  She was staring and tossing her arms wildly; a service was held,\nand she soon became her usual self.\n\nIn the afternoon, when the devils went out of the ladies, the fowls\nflew into a state of wild excitement, while the swine rushed furiously\nabout and tried to climb a wall.\n\nThe family have become Christians, the fires have ceased; Mr. Chang is\nan earnest inquirer, but opposed, for obvious reasons, to any public\nprofession of our religion. {233b}\n\nIn Mr. Niu's case \"strange noises and rappings were frequently heard\nabout the house.  The buildings were also set on fire in different\nplaces in some mysterious way.\"  The Christians tried to convert Mr.\nNiu, but as the devil now possessed his female slave, whose success in\nfortune-telling was extremely lucrative, Mr. Niu said that he\npreferred to leave well alone, and remained wedded to his idols. {234}\n\nWe next offer a recent colonial case, in which the symptoms, as Mr.\nPecksniff said, were \"chronic\".\n\nTHE GREAT AMHERST MYSTERY\n\nOn 13th February, 1888, Mr. Walter Hubbell, an actor by profession,\n\"being duly sworn\" before a Notary Public in New York, testified to\nthe following story:--\n\nIn 1879 he was acting with a strolling company, and came to Amherst,\nin Nova Scotia.  Here he heard of a haunted house, known to the local\nnewspapers as \"The Great Amherst Mystery\".  Having previously\nsucceeded in exposing the frauds of spiritualism Mr. Hubbell\ndetermined to investigate the affair of Amherst.  The haunted house\nwas inhabited by Daniel Teed, the respected foreman in a large shoe\nfactory.  Under his roof were Mrs. Teed, \"as good a woman as ever\nlived\"; little Willie, a baby boy; and Mrs. Teed's two sisters,\nJennie, a very pretty girl, and Esther, remarkable for large grey\neyes, pretty little hands and feet, and candour of expression.  A\nbrother of Teed's and a brother of Mrs. Cox made up the family.  They\nwere well off, and lived comfortably in a detached cottage of two\nstorys.  It began when Jennie and Esther were in bed one night.\nEsther jumped up, saying that there was a mouse in the bed.  Next\nnight, a green band-box began to make a rustling noise, and then rose\na foot in the air, several times.  On the following night Esther felt\nunwell, and \"was a swelling wisibly before the werry eyes\" of her\nalarmed family.  Reports like thunder peeled through her chamber,\nunder a serene sky.  Next day Esther could only eat \"a small piece of\nbread and butter, and a large green pickle\".  She recovered slightly,\nin spite of the pickle, but, four nights later, all her and her\nsister's bed-clothes flew off, and settled down in a remote corner.\nAt Jennie's screams, the family rushed in, and found Esther \"fearfully\nswollen\".  Mrs. Teed replaced the bed-clothes, which flew off again,\nthe pillow striking John Teed in the face.  Mr. Teed then left the\nroom, observing, in a somewhat unscientific spirit, that \"he had had\nenough of it\".  The others, with a kindness which did them credit, sat\non the edges of the bed, and repressed the desire of the sheets and\nblankets to fly away.  The bed, however, sent forth peels like\nthunder, when Esther suddenly fell into a peaceful sleep.\n\nNext evening Dr. Carritte arrived, and the bolster flew at his head,\n_and then went back again under Esther's_.  While paralysed by this\nphenomenon, unprecedented in his practice, the doctor heard a metal\npoint scribbling on the wall.  Examining the place whence the sound\nproceeded, he discovered this inscription:--\n\nEsther Cox!  You are mine\nto kill.\n\nMr. Hubbell has verified the inscription, and often, later, recognised\nthe hand, in writings which \"came out of the air and fell at our\nfeet\".  Bits of plaster now gyrated in the room, accompanied by peels\nof local thunder.  The doctor admitted that his diagnosis was at\nfault.  Next day he visited his patient when potatoes flew at him.  He\nexhibited a powerful sedative, but pounding noises began on the roofs\nand were audible at a distance of 200 yards, as the doctor himself\ntold Mr. Hubbell.\n\nThe clergy now investigated the circumstances, which they attributed\nto electricity.  \"Even the most exclusive class\" frequented Mr. Teed's\nhouse, till December, when Esther had an attack of diphtheria.  On\nrecovering she went on to visit friends in Sackville, New Brunswick,\nwhere nothing unusual occurred.  On her return the phenomena broke\nforth afresh, and Esther heard a voice proclaim that the house would\nbe set on fire.  Lighted matches then fell from the ceiling, but the\nfamily extinguished them.  The ghost then set a dress on fire,\napparently as by spontaneous combustion, and this kind of thing\ncontinued.  The heads of the local fire-brigade suspected Esther of\nthese attempts at arson, and Dr. Nathan Tupper suggested that she\nshould be flogged.  So Mr. Teed removed Esther to the house of a Mr.\nWhite.\n\nIn about a month \"all,\" as Mrs. Nickleby's lover said, \"was gas and\ngaiters\".  The furniture either flew about, or broke into flames.\nWorse, certain pieces of iron placed as an experiment on Esther's lap\n\"became too hot to be handled with comfort,\" and then flew away.\n\nMr. Hubbell himself now came on the scene, and, not detecting\nimposture, thought that \"there was money in it\".  He determined to\n\"run\" Esther as a powerful attraction, he lecturing, and Esther\nsitting on the platform.\n\nIt did not pay.  The audience hurled things at Mr. Hubbell, and these\nwere the only volatile objects.  Mr. Hubbell therefore brought Esther\nback to her family at Amherst, where, in Esther's absence, his\numbrella and a large carving knife flew at him with every appearance\nof malevolence.  A great arm-chair next charged at him like a bull,\nand to say that Mr. Hubbell was awed \"would indeed seem an inadequate\nexpression of my feelings\".  The ghosts then thrice undressed little\nWillie in public, in derision of his tears and outcries.  Fire-raising\nfollowed, and that would be a hard heart which could read the tale\nunmoved.  Here it is, in the simple eloquence of Mr. Hubbell:--\n\n\"This was my first experience with Bob, the demon, as a fire-fiend;\nand I say, candidly, that until I had had that experience I never\nfully realised what an awful calamity it was to have an invisible\nmonster, somewhere within the atmosphere, going from place to place\nabout the house, gathering up old newspapers into a bundle and hiding\nit in the basket of soiled linen or in a closet, then go and steal\nmatches out of the match-box in the kitchen or somebody's pocket, as\nhe did out of mine, and after kindling a fire in the bundle, tell\nEsther that he had started a fire, but would not tell where; or\nperhaps not tell her at all, in which case the first intimation we\nwould have was the smell of the smoke pouring through the house, and\nthen the most intense excitement, everybody running with buckets of\nwater.  I say it was the most truly awful calamity that could possible\nbefall any family, infidel or Christian, that could be conceived in\nthe mind of man or ghost.\n\n\"And how much more terrible did it seem in this little cottage, where\nall were strict members of church, prayed, sang hymns and read the\nBible.  Poor Mrs. Teed!\"\n\nOn Mr. Hubbell's remarking that the cat was not tormented, \"she was\ninstantly lifted from the floor to a height of five feet, and then\ndropped on Esther's back. . . .  I never saw any cat more frightened;\nshe ran out into the front yard, where she remained for the balance\n(rest) of the day.\"  On 27th June \"a trumpet was heard in the house\nall day\".\n\nThe Rev. R. A. Temple now prayed with Esther, and tried a little\namateur exorcism, including the use of slips of paper, inscribed with\nHabakkuk ii. 3.  The ghosts cared no more than Voltaire for ce coquin\nd'Habacuc.\n\nThings came to such a pass, matches simply raining all round, that Mr.\nTeed's landlord, a Mr. Bliss, evicted Esther.  She went to a Mr. Van\nAmburgh's, and Mr. Teed's cottage was in peace.\n\nSome weeks later Esther was arrested for incendiarism in a barn, was\nsentenced to four months' imprisonment, but was soon released in\ndeference to public opinion.  She married, had a family; and ceased to\nbe a mystery.\n\nThis story is narrated with an amiable simplicity, and is backed, more\nor less, by extracts from Amherst and other local newspapers.  On\nmaking inquiries, I found that opinion was divided.  Some held that\nEsther was a mere impostor and fire-raiser; from other sources I\nobtained curious tales of the eccentric flight of objects in her\nneighbourhood.  It is only certain that Esther's case is identical\nwith Madame Shchapoff's, and experts in hysteria may tell us whether\nthat malady ever takes the form of setting fire to the patient's\nwardrobe, and to things in general. {239a}\n\nAfter these modern cases of disturbances, we may look at a few old, or\neven ancient examples.  It will be observed that the symptoms are\nalways of the same type, whatever the date or country.  The first is\nGaelic, of last century.\n\nDONALD BAN AND THE BOCAN {239b}\n\nIt is fully a hundred years ago since there died in Lochaber a man\nnamed Donald Ban, sometimes called \"the son of Angus,\" but more\nfrequently known as Donald Ban of the Bocan.  This surname was derived\nfrom the troubles caused to him by a bocan--a goblin--many of whose\ndoings are preserved in tradition.\n\nDonald drew his origin from the honourable house of Keppoch, and was\nthe last of the hunters of Macvic-Ronald.  His home was at Mounessee,\nand later at Inverlaire in Glenspean, and his wife belonged to the\nMacGregors of Rannoch.  He went out with the Prince, and was present\nat the battle of Culloden.  He fled from the field, and took refuge in\na mountain shieling, having two guns with him, but only one of them\nwas loaded.  A company of soldiers came upon him there, and although\nDonald escaped by a back window, taking the empty gun with him by\nmistake, he was wounded in the leg by a shot from his pursuers.  The\nsoldiers took him then, and conveyed him to Inverness, where he was\nthrown into prison to await his trial.  While he was in prison he had\na dream; he saw himself sitting and drinking with Alastair MacCholla,\nand Donald MacRonald Vor.  The latter was the man of whom it was said\nthat he had two hearts; he was taken prisoner at Falkirk and executed\nat Carlisle.  Donald was more fortunate than his friend, and was\nfinally set free.\n\nIt was after this that the bocan began to trouble him; and although\nDonald never revealed to any man the secret of who the bocan was (if\nindeed he knew it himself), yet there were some who professed to know\nthat it was a \"gillie\" of Donald's who was killed at Culloden.  Their\nreason for believing this was that on one occasion the man in question\nhad given away more to a poor neighbour than Donald was pleased to\nspare.  Donald found fault with him, and in the quarrel that followed\nthe man said, \"I will be avenged for this, alive or dead\".\n\nIt was on the hill that Donald first met with the bocan, but he soon\ncame to closer quarters, and haunted the house in a most annoying\nfashion.  He injured the members of the household, and destroyed all\nthe food, being especially given to dirtying the butter (a thing quite\nsuperfluous, according to Captain Burt's description of Highland\nbutter).  On one occasion a certain Ronald of Aberardair was a guest\nin Donald's house, and Donald's wife said, \"Though I put butter on the\ntable for you tonight, it will just be dirtied\".  \"I will go with you\nto the butter-keg,\" said Ronald, \"with my dirk in my hand, and hold my\nbonnet over the keg, and he will not dirty it this night.\"  So the two\nwent together to fetch the butter, but it was dirtied just as usual.\n\nThings were worse during the night and they could get no sleep for the\nstones and clods that came flying about the house.  \"The bocan was\nthrowing things out of the walls, and they would hear them rattling at\nthe head of Donald's bed.\"  The minister came (Mr. John Mor MacDougall\nwas his name) and slept a night or two in the house, but the bocan\nkept away so long as he was there.  Another visitor, Angus MacAlister\nBan, whose grandson told the tale, had more experience of the bocan's\nreality.  \"Something seized his two big toes, and he could not get\nfree any more than if he had been caught by the smith's tongs.  It was\nthe bocan, but he did nothing more to him.\"  Some of the clergy, too,\nas well as laymen of every rank, were witnesses to the pranks which\nthe spirit carried on, but not even Donald himself ever saw him in any\nshape whatever.  So famous did the affair become that Donald was\nnearly ruined by entertaining all the curious strangers who came to\nsee the facts for themselves.\n\nIn the end Donald resolved to change his abode, to see whether he\ncould in that way escape from the visitations.  He took all his\npossessions with him except a harrow, which was left beside the wall\nof the house, but before the party had gone far on the road the harrow\nwas seen coming after them.  \"Stop, stop,\" said Donald; \"if the harrow\nis coming after us, we may just as well go back again.\"  The mystery\nof the harrow is not explained, but Donald did return to his home, and\nmade no further attempt to escape from his troubles in this way.\n\nIf the bocan had a spite at Donald, he was still worse disposed\ntowards his wife, the MacGregor woman.  On the night on which he last\nmade his presence felt, he went on the roof of the house and cried,\n\"Are you asleep, Donald Ban?\"  \"Not just now,\" said Donald.  \"Put out\nthat long grey tether, the MacGregor wife,\" said he.  \"I don't think\nI'll do that tonight,\" said Donald.  \"Come out yourself, then,\" said\nthe bocan, \"and leave your bonnet.\"  The good-wife, thinking that the\nbocan was outside and would not hear her, whispered in Donald's ear as\nhe was rising, \"Won't you ask him when the Prince will come?\"  The\nwords, however, were hardly out of her mouth when the bocan answered\nher with, \"Didn't you get enough of him before, you grey tether?\"\n\nAnother account says that at this last visit of the bocan, he was\nsaying that various other spirits were along with him.  Donald's wife\nsaid to her husband:  \"I should think that if they were along with him\nthey would speak to us\"; but the bocan answered, \"They are no more\nable to speak than the sole of your foot\".  He then summoned Donald\noutside as above.  \"I will come,\" said Donald, \"and thanks be to the\nGood Being that you have asked me.\"  Donald was taking his dirk with\nhim as he went out, but the bocan said, \"leave your dirk inside,\nDonald, and your knife as well\".\n\nDonald then went outside, and the bocan led him on through rivers and\na birch-wood for about three miles, till they came to the river Fert.\nThere the bocan pointed out to Donald a hole in which he had hidden\nsome plough-irons while he was alive.  Donald proceeded to take them\nout, and while doing so the two eyes of the bocan were causing him\ngreater fear than anything else he ever heard or saw.  When he had got\nthe irons out of the hole, they went back to Mounessie together, and\nparted that night at the house of Donald Ban.\n\nDonald, whether naturally or by reason of his ghostly visitant, was a\nreligious man, and commemorated his troubles in some verses which bear\nthe name of \"The Hymn of Donald Ban of the Bocan\".  In these he speaks\nof the common belief that he had done something to deserve all this\nannoyance, and makes mention of the \"stones and clods\" which flew\nabout his house in the night time.  Otherwise the hymn is mainly\ncomposed of religious sentiments, but its connection with the story\nmakes it interesting, and the following is a literal translation of\nit.\n\nTHE HYMN OF DONALD BAN\n\nO God that created me so helpless,\nStrengthen my belief and make it firm.\nCommand an angel to come from Paradise,\nAnd take up his abode in my dwelling,\nTo protect me from every trouble\nThat wicked folks are putting in my way;\nJesus, that did'st suffer Thy crucifixion,\nRestrain their doings, and be with me Thyself.\n\nLittle wonder though I am thoughtful--\n_Always at the time when I go to bed\nThe stones and the clods will arise--\nHow could a saint get sleep there_?\nI am without peace or rest,\nWithout repose or sleep till the morning;\nO Thou that art in the throne of grace,\nBehold my treatment and be a guard to me.\n\nLittle wonder though I am troubled,\nSo many stories about me in every place.\nSome that are unjust will be saying,\n\"It is all owing to himself, that affair\".\nJudge not except as you know,\nThough the Son of God were awaking you;\nNo one knows if I have deserved more\nThan a rich man that is without care.\n\nAlthough I am in trouble at this time,\nVerily, I shall be doubly repaid;\nWhen the call comes to me from my Saviour,\nI shall receive mercy and new grace;\nI fear no more vexation,\nWhen I ascend to be with Thy saints;\nO Thou that sittest on the throne,\nAssist my speaking and accept my prayer.\n\nO God, make me mindful\nNight and day to be praying,\nSeeking pardon richly\nFor what I have done, on my knees.\nStir with the spirit of Truth\nTrue repentance in my bosom,\nThat when Thou sendest death to seek me,\nChrist may take care of me.\n\nThe bocan was not the only inhabitant of the spirit-world that Donald\nBan encountered during his lifetime.  A cousin of his mother was said\nto have been carried off by the fairies, and one night Donald saw him\namong them, dancing away with all his might.  Donald was also out\nhunting in the year of the great snow, and at nightfall he saw a man\nmounted on the back of a deer ascending a great rock.  He heard the\nman saying, \"Home, Donald Ban,\" and fortunately he took the advice,\nfor that night there fell eleven feet of snow in the very spot where\nhe had intended to stay.\n\nWe now take two modern Icelandic cases, for the purpose of leading up\nto the famous Icelandic legend of Grettir and Glam the Vampire, from\nthe Grettis Saga.  It is plain that such incidents as those in the two\nmodern Icelandic cases (however the effects were produced) might\neasily be swollen into the prodigious tale of Glam in the course of\ntwo or three centuries, between Grettir's time and the complete\nformation of his Saga.\n\nTHE DEVIL OF HJALTA-STAD {246}\n\nThe sheriff writes:  \"The Devil at Hjalta-stad was outspoken enough\nthis past winter, although no one saw him.  I, along with others, had\nthe dishonour to hear him talking for nearly two days, during which he\naddressed myself and the minister, Sir Grim, with words the like of\nwhich 'eye hath not seen nor ear heard'.  As soon as we reached the\nfront of the house there was heard in the door an iron voice saying:\n'So Hans from Eyrar is come now, and wishes to talk with me, the ---\nidiot'.  Compared with other names that he gave me this might be\nconsidered as flattering.  When I inquired who it was that addressed\nme with such words, he answered in a fierce voice, 'I was called\nLucifer at first, but now I am called Devil and Enemy'.  He threw at\nus both stones and pieces of wood, as well as other things, and broke\ntwo windows in the minister's room.  He spoke so close to us that he\nseemed to be just at our side.  There was an old woman there of the\nname of Opia, whom he called his wife, and a 'heavenly blessed soul,'\nand asked Sir Grim to marry them, with various other remarks of this\nkind, which I will not recount.\n\n\"I have little liking to write about his ongoings, which were all\ndisgraceful and shameful, in accordance with the nature of the actor.\nHe repeated the 'Pater Noster' three times, answered questions from\nthe Catechism and the Bible, said that the devils held service in\nhell, and told what texts and psalms they had for various occasions.\nHe asked us to give him some of the food we had, and a drink of tea,\netc.  I asked the fellow whether God was good.  He said, 'Yes'.\nWhether he was truthful.  He answered, 'Not one of his words can be\ndoubted'.  Sir Grim asked him whether the devil was good-looking.  He\nanswered:  'He is far better-looking than you, you --- ugly snout!'  I\nasked him whether the devils agreed well with each other.  He answered\nin a kind of sobbing voice:  'It is painful to know that they never\nhave peace'.  I bade him say something to me in German, and said to\nhim Lass uns Teusc redre (sic), but he answered as if he had\nmisunderstood me.\n\n\"When we went to bed in the evening he shouted fiercely in the middle\nof the floor, 'On this night I shall snatch you off to hell, and you\nshall not rise up out of bed as you lay down'.  During the evening he\nwished the minister's wife good-night.  The minister and I continued\nto talk with him during the night; among other things we asked him\nwhat kind of weather it was outside.  He answered:  'It is cold, with\na north wind'.  We asked if he was cold.  He answered:  'I think I am\nboth hot and cold'.  I asked him how loud he could shout.  He said,\n'So loud that the roof would go off the house, and you would all fall\ninto a dead faint'.  I told him to try it.  He answered:  'Do you\nthink I am come to amuse you, you --- idiot?'  I asked him to show us\na little specimen.  He said he would do so, and gave three shouts, the\nlast of which was so fearful that I have never heard anything worse,\nand doubt whether I ever shall.  Towards daybreak, after he had parted\nfrom us with the usual compliments, we fell asleep.\n\n\"Next morning he came in again, and began to waken up people; he named\neach one by name, not forgetting to add some nickname, and asking\nwhether so-and-so was awake.  When he saw they were all awake, he said\nhe was going to play with the door now, and with that he threw the\ndoor off its hinges with a sudden jerk, and sent it far in upon the\nfloor.  The strangest thing was that when he threw anything it went\ndown at once, and then went back to its place again, so it was evident\nthat he either went inside it or moved about with it.\n\n\"The previous evening he challenged me twice to come out into the\ndarkness to him, and this in an angry voice, saying that he would tear\nme limb from limb.  I went out and told him to come on, but nothing\nhappened.  When I went back to my place and asked him why he had not\nfulfilled his promise, he said, 'I had no orders for it from my\nmaster'.  He asked us whether we had ever heard the like before, and\nwhen we said 'Yes,' he answered, 'That is not true:  the like has\nnever been heard at any time'.  He had sung 'The memory of Jesus'\nafter I arrived there, and talked frequently while the word of God was\nbeing read.  He said that he did not mind this, but that he did not\nlike the 'Cross-school Psalms,' and said it must have been a great\nidiot who composed them.  This enemy came like a devil, departed as\nsuch, and behaved himself as such while he was present, nor would it\nbefit any one but the devil to declare all that he said.  At the same\ntime it must be added that I am not quite convinced that it was a\nspirit, but my opinions on this I cannot give here for lack of time.\"\n\nIn another work {249} where the sheriff's letter is given with some\nvariations and additions, an attempt is made to explain the story.\nThe phenomena were said to have been caused by a young man who had\nlearned ventriloquism abroad.  Even if this art could have been\npractised so successfully as to puzzle the sheriff and others, it\ncould hardly have taken the door off its hinges and thrown it into the\nroom.  It is curious that while Jon Espolin in his Annals entirely\ndiscredits the sheriff's letter, he yet gives a very similar account\nof the spirit's proceedings.\n\nA later story of the same kind, also printed by Jon Arnason (i., 311),\nis that of the ghost at Garpsdal as related by the minister there, Sir\nSaemund, and written down by another minister on 7th June, 1808.  The\nnarrative is as follows:--\n\nTHE GHOST AT GARPSDAL\n\nIn Autumn, 1807, there was a disturbance by night in the outer room at\nGarpsdal, the door being smashed.  There slept in this room the\nminister's men-servants, Thorsteinn Gudmundsson, Magnus Jonsson, and a\nchild named Thorstein.  Later, on 16th November, a boat which the\nminister had lying at the sea-side was broken in broad daylight, and\nalthough the blows were heard at the homestead yet no human form was\nvisible that could have done this.  All the folks at Garpsdal were at\nhome, and the young fellow Magnus Jonsson was engaged either at the\nsheep-houses or about the homestead; the spirit often appeared to him\nin the likeness of a woman.  On the 18th of the same month four doors\nof the sheep-houses were broken in broad daylight, while the minister\nwas marrying a couple in the church; most of his people were present\nin the church, Magnus being among them.  That same day in the evening\nthis woman was noticed in the sheep-houses; she said that she wished\nto get a ewe to roast, but as soon as an old woman who lived at\nGarpsdal and was both skilled and wise (Gudrun Jons-dottir by name)\nhad handled the ewe, its struggles ceased and it recovered again.\nWhile Gudrun was handling the ewe, Magnus was standing in the door of\nthe house; with that one of the rafters was broken, and the pieces\nwere thrown in his face.  He said that the woman went away just then.\nThe minister's horses were close by, and at that moment became so\nscared that they ran straight over smooth ice as though it had been\nearth, and suffered no harm.\n\nOn the evening of the 20th there were great disturbances, panelling\nand doors being broken down in various rooms.  The minister was\nstanding in the house door along with Magnus and two or three girls\nwhen Magnus said to him that the spirit had gone into the sitting-\nroom.  The minister went and stood at the door of the room, and after\nhe had been there a little while, talking to the others, a pane of\nglass in one of the room windows was broken.  Magnus was standing\nbeside the minister talking to him, and when the pane broke he said\nthat the spirit had gone out by that.  The minister went to the\nwindow, and saw that the pane was all broken into little pieces.  The\nfollowing evening, the 21st, the spirit also made its presence known\nby bangings, thumpings, and loud noises.\n\nOn the 28th the ongoings of the spirit surpassed themselves.  In the\nevening a great blow was given on the roof of the sitting-room.  The\nminister was inside at the time, but Magnus with two girls was out in\nthe barn.  At the same moment the partition between the weaving-shop\nand the sitting-room was broken down, and then three windows of the\nroom itself--one above the minister's bed, another above his writing-\ntable, and the third in front of the closet door.  A piece of a table\nwas thrown in at one of these, and a spade at another.  At this the\nhousehold ran out of that room into the loft, but the minister sprang\ndownstairs and out; the old woman Gudrun who was named before went\nwith him, and there also came Magnus and some of the others.  Just\nthen a vessel of wash, which had been standing in the kitchen, was\nthrown at Gudrun's head.  The minister then ran in, along with Magnus\nand the girls, and now everything that was loose was flying about,\nboth doors and splinters of wood.  The minister opened a room near the\nouter door intending to go in there, but just then a sledge hammer\nwhich lay at the door was thrown at him, but it only touched him on\nthe side and hip, and did him no harm.  From there the minister and\nthe others went back to the sitting-room, where everything was dancing\nabout, and where they were met with a perfect volley of splinters of\ndeal from the partitions.  The minister then fled, and took his wife\nand child to Muli, the next farm, and left them there, as she was\nfrightened to death with all this.  He himself returned next day.\n\nOn the 8th of December, the woman again made her appearance in broad\ndaylight.  On this occasion she broke the shelves and panelling in the\npantry, in presence of the minister, Magnus, and others.  According to\nMagnus, the spirit then went out through the wall at the minister's\nwords, and made its way to the byre-lane.  Magnus and Gudrun went\nafter it, but were received with throwings of mud and dirt.  A stone\nwas also hurled at Magnus, as large as any man could lift, while\nGudrun received a blow on the arm that confined her to her bed for\nthree weeks.\n\nOn the 26th of the month the shepherd, Einar Jonsson, a hardy and\nresolute fellow, commanded the spirit to show itself to him.\nThereupon there came over him such a madness and frenzy, that he had\nto be closely guarded to prevent him from doing harm to himself.  He\nwas taken to the house, and kept in his bed, a watch being held over\nhim.  When he recovered his wits, he said that this girl had come\nabove his head and assailed him.  When he had completely got over\nthis, he went away from Garpsdal altogether.\n\nLater than this the minister's horse was found dead in the stable at\nMuli, and the folks there said that it was all black and swollen.\n\nThese are the most remarkable doings of the ghost at Garpsdal,\naccording to the evidence of Sir Saemund, Magnus, Gudrun, and all the\nhousehold at Garpsdal, all of whom will confirm their witness with an\noath, and aver that no human being could have been so invisible there\nby day and night, but rather that it was some kind of spirit that did\nthe mischief.  From the story itself it may be seen that neither\nMagnus nor any other person could have accomplished the like, and all\nthe folk will confirm this, and clear all persons in the matter, so\nfar as they know.  In this form the story was told to me, the\nsubscriber, to Samuel Egilsson and Bjarni Oddsson, by the minister\nhimself and his household, at Garpsdal, 28th May, 1808.  That this is\ncorrectly set down, after what the minister Sir Saemund related to me,\nI witness here at Stad on Reykjanes, 7th June, 1808.\n\nGISLI OLAFSSON\n\n* * * * *\n\nNotwithstanding this declaration, the troubles at Garpsdal were\nattributed by others to Magnus, and the name of the \"Garpsdale Ghost\"\nstuck to him throughout his life.  He was alive in 1862, when Jon\nArnason's volume was published.\n\nThese modern instances lead up to \"the best story in the world,\" the\nold Icelandic tale of Glam.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\nThe Story of Glam.  The Foul Fords.\n\n\nTHE STORY OF GLAM\n\nThere was a man named Thorhall, who lived at Thorhall-stead in\nForsaela-dala, which lies in the north of Iceland.  He was a fairly\nwealthy man, especially in cattle, so that no one round about had so\nmuch live-stock as he had.  He was not a chief, however, but an honest\nand worthy yeoman.\n\n\"Now this man's place was greatly haunted, so that he could scarcely\nget a shepherd to stay with him, and although he asked the opinion of\nmany as to what he ought to do, he could find none to give him advice\nof any worth.\n\n\"One summer at the Althing, or yearly assembly of the people, Thorhall\nwent to the booth of Skafti, the law man, who was the wisest of men\nand gave good counsel when his opinion was asked.  He received\nThorhall in a friendly way, because he knew he was a man of means, and\nasked him what news he had.\n\n\"'I would have some good advice from you,' said Thorhall.\n\n'\"I am little able to give that,' said Skafti; 'but what is the\nmatter?'\n\n\"'This is the way of it,' said Thorhall, 'I have had very bad luck\nwith my shepherds of late.  Some of them get injured, and others will\nnot serve out their time; and now no one that knows how the case\nstands will take the place at all.'\n\n\"'Then there must be some evil spirit there,' said Skafti, 'when men\nare less willing to herd your sheep, than those of others.  Now since\nyou have asked my advice, I will get a shepherd for you.  Glam is his\nname, he belongs to Sweden, and came out here last summer.  He is big\nand strong, but not very well liked by most people.'\n\n\"Thorhall said that he did not mind that, if he looked well after the\nsheep.  Skafti answered that there was no hope of other men doing it,\nif Glam could not, seeing he was so strong and stout-hearted.  Their\ntalk ended there, and Thorhall left the booth.\n\n\"This took place just at the breaking up of the assembly.  Thorhall\nmissed two of his horses, and went to look for them in person, from\nwhich it may be seen that he was no proud man.  He went up to the\nmountain ridge, and south along the fell that is called Armann's fell.\nThere he saw a man coming down from the wood, leading a horse laden\nwith bundles of brushwood.  They soon met each other and Thorhall\nasked his name.  He said he was called Glam.  He was tall of body, and\nof strange appearance; his eyes were blue and staring, and his hair\nwolf-grey in colour.  Thorhall was a little startled when he saw him,\nand was certain that this was the man he had been told about.\n\n\"'What work are you best fitted for?' he asked.  Glam said that he was\ngood at keeping sheep in winter.\n\n\"'Will you look after _my_ sheep?' said Thorhall.  'Skafti has put you\ninto my hands.'\n\n\"'On this condition only will I take service with you,' said Glam,\n'that I have my own free will, for I am ill-tempered if anything does\nnot please me.'\n\n\"'That will not harm me,' said Thorhall, 'and I should like you to\ncome to me.'\n\n\"'I will do so,' said Glam; 'but is there any trouble at your place?'\n\n\"'It is believed to be haunted,' said Thorhall.\n\n\"'I am not afraid of such bug-bears,' said Glam, 'and think that it\nwill be all the livelier for that.'\n\n\"'You will need all your boldness,' said Thorhall, 'It is best not to\nbe too frightened for one's self there.'\n\n\"After this they made a bargain between them, and Glam was to come\nwhen the winter nights began.  Then they parted, and Thorhall found\nhis horses where he had just newly looked for them, and rode home,\nafter thanking Skafti for his kindness.\n\n\"The summer passed, and Thorhall heard nothing of the shepherd, nor\ndid any one know the least about him, but at the time appointed he\ncame to Thorhall-stead.  The yeoman received him well, but the others\ndid not like him, and the good-wife least of all.  He began his work\namong the sheep which gave him little trouble, for he had a loud,\nhoarse voice, and the flock all ran together whenever he shouted.\nThere was a church at Thorhall-stead, but Glam would never go to it\nnor join in the service.  He was unbelieving, surly, and difficult to\ndeal with, and ever one felt a dislike towards him.\n\n\"So time went on till it came to Christmas eve.  On that morning Glam\nrose early and called for his food.  The good-wife answered:  'It is\nnot the custom of Christian people to eat on this day, for to-morrow\nis the first day of Christmas, and we ought to fast to-day'.  Glam\nreplied:  'You have many foolish fashions that I see no good in.  I\ncannot see that men are any better off now than they were when they\nnever troubled themselves about such things.  I think it was a far\nbetter life when men were heathens; and now I want my food, and no\nnonsense.'  The good-wife answered:  'I am sure you will come to\nsorrow to-day if you act thus perversely'.\n\n\"Glam bade her bring his food at once, or it would be the worse for\nher.  She was afraid to refuse, and after he had eaten he went out in\na great rage.\n\n\"The weather was very bad.  It was dark and gloomy all round;\nsnowflakes fluttered about; loud noises were heard in the air, and it\ngrew worse and worse as the day wore on.  They heard the shepherd's\nvoice during the forenoon, but less of him as the day passed.  Then\nthe snow began to drift, and by evening there was a violent storm.\nPeople came to the service in church, and the day wore on to evening,\nbut still Glam did not come home.  There was some talk among them of\ngoing to look for him, but no search was made on account of the storm\nand the darkness.\n\n\"All Christmas eve Glam did not return, and in the morning men went to\nlook for him.  They found the sheep scattered in the fens, beaten down\nby the storm, or up on the hills.  Thereafter they came to a place in\nthe valley where the snow was all trampled, as if there had been a\nterrible struggle there, for stones and frozen earth were torn up all\nround about.  They looked carefully round the place, and found Glam\nlying a short distance off, quite dead.  He was black in colour, and\nswollen up as big as an ox.  They were horrified at the sight, and\nshuddered in their hearts.  However, they tried to carry him to the\nchurch, but could get him no further than to the edge of a cleft, a\nlittle lower down; so they left him there and went home and told their\nmaster what had happened.\n\n\"Thorhall asked them what had been the cause of Glam's death.  They\nsaid that they had traced footprints as large as though the bottom of\na cask had been set down in the snow leading from where the trampled\nplace was up to the cliffs at the head of the valley, and all along\nthe track there were huge blood-stains.  From this they guessed that\nthe evil spirit which lived there must have killed Glam, but had\nreceived so much hurt that it had died, for nothing was ever seen of\nit after.\n\n\"The second day of Christmas they tried again to bring Glam to the\nchurch.  They yoked horses to him, but after they had come down the\nslope and reached level ground they could drag him no further, and he\nhad to be left there.\n\n\"On the third day a priest went with them, but Glam was not be found,\nalthough they searched for him all day.  The priest refused to go a\nsecond time, and the shepherd was found at once when the priest was\nnot present.  So they gave over their attempts to take him to the\nchurch, and buried him on the spot.\n\n\"Soon after this they became aware that Glam was not lying quiet, and\ngreat damage was done by him, for many that saw him fell into a swoon,\nor lost their reason.  Immediately after Yule men believed that they\nsaw him about the farm itself, and grew terribly frightened, so that\nmany of them ran away.  After this Glam began to ride on the house-top\nby night, {259} and nearly shook it to pieces, and then he walked\nabout almost night and day.  Men hardly dared to go up into the\nvalley, even although they had urgent business there, and every one in\nthe district thought great harm of the matter.\n\n\"In spring, Thorhall got new men, and started the farm again, while\nGlam's walkings began to grow less frequent as the days grew longer.\nSo time went on, until it was mid-summer.  That summer a ship from\nNorway came into Huna-water (a firth to the north of Thorhall-stead),\nand had on board a man called Thorgaut.  He was foreign by birth, big\nof body, and as strong as any two men.  He was unhired and unmarried,\nand was looking for some employment, as he was penniless.  Thorhall\nrode to the ship, and found Thorgaut there.  He asked him whether he\nwould enter his service.  Thorgaut answered that he might well do so,\nand that he did not care much what work he did.\n\n\"'You must know, however,' said Thorhall, 'that it is not good for any\nfaint-hearted man to live at my place, on account of the hauntings\nthat have been of late, and I do not wish to deceive you in any way.'\n\n\"'I do not think myself utterly lost although I see some wretched\nghosts,' said Thorgaut.  'It will be no light matter for others if _I_\nam scared, and I will not throw up the place on that account.'\n\n\"Their bargain was quickly made, and Thorgaut was to have charge of\nthe sheep during the winter.  The summer went past, and Thorgaut began\nhis duties with the winter nights, and was well liked by every one.\nGlam began to come again, and rode on the house-top, which Thorgaut\nthought great sport, and said that the thrall would have to come to\nclose quarters before he would be afraid of him.  Thorhall bade him\nnot say too much about it.  'It will be better for you,' said he, 'if\nyou have no trial of each other.'\n\n\"'Your courage has indeed been shaken out of you,' said Thorgaut, 'but\nI am not going to fall dead for such talk.'\n\n\"The winter went on till Christmas came again, and on Christmas eve\nthe shepherd went out to his sheep.  'I trust,' said the good-wife,\n'that things will not go after the old fashion.'\n\n\"'Have no fear of that, good-wife,' said Thorgaut; 'there will be\nsomething worth talking about if I don't come back.'\n\n\"The weather was very cold, and a heavy drift blowing.  Thorgaut was\nin the habit of coming home when it was half-dark, but on this\noccasion he did not return at his usual time.  People came to church,\nand they now began to think that things were not unlikely to fall out\nas they had done before.  Thorhall wished to make search for the\nshepherd, but the church-goers refused, saying that they would not\nrisk themselves in the hands of evil demons by night, and so no search\nwas made.\n\n\"After their morning meal on Christmas day they went out to look for\nthe shepherd.  They first made their way to Glam's cairn, guessing\nthat he was the cause of the man's disappearance.  On coming near to\nthis they saw great tidings, for there they found the shepherd with\nhis neck broken and every bone in his body smashed in pieces.  They\ncarried him to the church, and he did no harm to any man thereafter.\nBut Glam began to gather strength anew, and now went so far in his\nmischief that every one fled from Thorhall-stead, except the yeoman\nand his wife.\n\n\"The same cattleman, however, had been there for a long time, and\nThorhall would not let him leave, because he was so faithful and so\ncareful.  He was very old, and did not want to go away either, for he\nsaw that everything his master had would go to wreck and ruin, if\nthere was no one to look after it.\n\n\"One morning after the middle of winter the good-wife went out to the\nbyre to milk the cows.  It was broad daylight by this time, for no one\nventured to be outside earlier than that, except the cattleman, who\nalways went out when it began to grow clear.  She heard a great noise\nand fearful bellowing in the byre, and ran into the house again,\ncrying out and saying that some awful thing was going on there.\nThorhall went out to the cattle and found them goring each other with\ntheir horns.  To get out of their way, he went through into the barn,\nand in doing this he saw the cattleman lying on his back with his head\nin one stall and his feet in another.  He went up to him and felt him\nand soon found that he was dead, with his back broken over the upright\nstone between two of the stalls.\n\n\"The yeoman thought it high time to leave the place now, and fled from\nhis farm with all that he could remove.  All the live-stock that he\nleft behind was killed by Glam, who then went through the whole glen\nand laid waste all the farms up from Tongue.\n\n\"Thorhall spent the rest of the winter with various friends.  No one\ncould go up into the glen with horse or dog, for these were killed at\nonce; but when spring came again and the days began to lengthen,\nGlam's walkings grew less frequent, and Thorhall determined to return\nto his homestead.  He had difficulty in getting servants, but managed\nto set up his home again at Thorhall-stead.  Things went just as\nbefore.  When autumn came, the hauntings began again, and now it was\nthe yeoman's daughter who was most assailed, till in the end she died\nof fright.  Many plans were tried, but all to no effect, and it seemed\nas if all Water-dale would be laid waste unless some remedy could be\nfound.\n\n\"All this befell in the days of Grettir, the son of Asmund, who was\nthe strongest man of his day in Iceland.  He had been abroad at this\ntime, outlawed for three years, and was only eighteen years of age\nwhen he returned.  He had been at home all through the autumn, but\nwhen the winter nights were well advanced, he rode north to Water-\ndale, and came to Tongue, where lived his uncle Jokull.  His uncle\nreceived him heartily, and he stayed there for three nights.  At this\ntime there was so much talk about Glam's walkings, that nothing was so\nlargely spoken of as these.  Grettir inquired closely about all that\nhad happened, and Jokull said that the stories told no more than had\nindeed taken place; 'but are you intending to go there, kinsman?' said\nhe.  Grettir answered that he was.  Jokull bade him not do so, 'for it\nis a dangerous undertaking, and a great risk for your friends to lose\nyou, for in our opinion there is not another like you among the young\nmen, and \"ill will come of ill\" where Glam is.  Far better it is to\ndeal with mortal men than with such evil spirits.'\n\n\"Grettir, however, said that he had a mind to fare to Thorhall-stead,\nand see how things had been going on there.  Jokull replied:  'I see\nnow that it is of no use to hold you back, but the saying is true that\n\"good luck and good heart are not the same'\".  Grettir answered:\n'\"Woe stands at one man's door when it has entered another's house\".\nThink how it may go with yourself before the end.'\n\n\"'It may be,' said Jokull, 'that both of us see some way into the\nfuture, and yet neither of us can do anything to prevent it.'\n\n\"After this they parted, and neither liked the other's forebodings.\n\n\"Grettir rode to Thorhall-stead, and the yeoman received him heartily.\nHe asked Grettir where he was going, who said that he wished to stay\nthere all night if he would allow him.  Thorhall said that he would be\nvery glad if he would stay, 'but few men count it a gain to be guests\nhere for long.  You must have heard how matters stand, and I shall be\nvery unwilling for you to come to any harm on my account.  And even\nalthough you yourself escape safe and sound, I know for certain that\nyou will lose your horse, for no man that comes here can keep that\nuninjured.'\n\n\"Grettir answered that there were horses enough to be got, whatever\nmight happen to this one.  Thorhall was delighted that he was willing\nto stay, and gave him the heartiest reception.  The horse was strongly\nsecured in an out-house; then they went to sleep, and that night\npassed without Glam appearing.\n\n\"'Your coming here,' said Thorhall, 'has made a happy change, for Glam\nis in the habit of riding the house every night, or breaking up the\ndoors, as you may see for yourself.'\n\n\"'Then one of two things will happen,' said Grettir; 'either he will\nnot restrain himself for long, or the hauntings will cease for more\nthan one night.  I shall stay for another night, and see how things\ngo.'\n\n\"After this they went to look at Grettir's horse, and found that he\nhad not been meddled with, so the yeoman thought that everything was\ngoing on well, Grettir stayed another night, and still the thrall did\nnot come about them.  Thorhall thought that things were looking\nbrighter, but when he went to look to Grettir's horse he found the\nout-house broken up, the horse dragged outside, and every bone in it\nbroken.  He told Grettir what had happened, and advised him to secure\nhis own safety, 'for your death is certain if you wait for Glam'.\n\n\"Grettir answered:  'The least I can get for my horse is to see the\nthrall'.  Thorhall replied that it would do him no good to see him,\n'for he is unlike anything in human shape; but I am fain of every hour\nthat you are willing to stay here'.\n\n\"The day wore on, and when it was bed-time Grettir would not take off\nhis clothes, but lay down on the floor over against Thorhall's bed-\ncloset.  He put a thick cloak above himself, buttoning one end beneath\nhis feet, and doubling the other under his head, while he looked out\nat the hole for the neck.  There was a strong plank in front of the\nfloored space, and against this he pressed his feet.  The door-\nfittings were all broken off from the outer door, but there was a\nhurdle set up instead, and roughly secured.  The wainscot that had\nonce stretched across the hall was all broken down, both above and\nbelow the cross-beam.  The beds were all pulled out of their places,\nand everything was in confusion.\n\n\"A light was left burning in the hall, and when the third part of the\nnight was past Grettir heard loud noises outside.  Then something went\nup on top of the house, and rode above the hall, beating the roof with\nits heels till every beam cracked.  This went on for a long time; then\nit came down off the house and went to the door.  When this was opened\nGrettir saw the thrall thrust in his head; ghastly big he seemed, and\nwonderfully huge of feature.  Glam came in slowly, and raised himself\nup when he was inside the doorway, till he loomed up against the roof.\nThen he turned his face down the hall, laid his arms on the cross-\nbeam, and glared all over the place.  Thorhall gave no sign during all\nthis, for he thought it bad enough to hear what was going on outside.\n\n\"Grettir lay still and never moved.  Glam saw that there was a bundle\nlying on the floor, and moved further up the hall and grasped the\ncloak firmly.  Grettir placed his feet against the plank, and yielded\nnot the least.  Glam tugged a second time, much harder than before,\nbut still the cloak did not move.  A third time he pulled with both\nhis hands, so hard that he raised Grettir up from the floor, and now\nthey wrenched the cloak asunder between them.  Glam stood staring at\nthe piece which he held in his hands, and wondering greatly who could\nhave pulled so hard against him.  At that moment Grettir sprang in\nunder the monster's hands, and threw his arms around his waist,\nintending to make him fall backwards.  Glam, however, bore down upon\nhim so strongly that Grettir was forced to give way before him.  He\nthen tried to stay himself against the seat-boards, but these gave way\nwith him, and everything that came in their path was broken.\n\n\"Glam wanted to get him outside, and although Grettir set his feet\nagainst everything that he could, yet Glam succeeded in dragging him\nout into the porch.  There they had a fierce struggle, for the thrall\nmeant to have him out of doors, while Grettir saw that bad as it was\nto deal with Glam inside the house it would be worse outside, and\ntherefore strove with all his might against being carried out.  When\nthey came into the porch Glam put forth all his strength, and pulled\nGrettir close to him.  When Grettir saw that he could not stay himself\nhe suddenly changed his plan, and threw himself as hard as he could\nagainst the monster's breast, setting both his feet against an earth-\nfast stone that lay in the doorway.  Glam was not prepared for this,\nbeing then in the act of pulling Grettir towards him, so he fell\nbackwards and went crashing out through the door, his shoulders\ncatching the lintel as he fell.  The roof of the porch was wrenched in\ntwo, both rafters and frozen thatch, and backwards out of the house\nwent Glam, with Grettir above him.\n\n\"Outside there was bright moonshine and broken clouds, which sometimes\ndrifted over the moon and sometimes left it clear.  At the moment when\nGlam fell the cloud passed off the moon, and he cast up his eyes\nsharply towards it; and Grettir himself said that this was the only\nsight he ever saw that terrified him.  Then Grettir grew so helpless,\nboth by reason of his weariness and at seeing Glam roll his eyes so\nhorribly, that he was unable to draw his dagger, and lay well-nigh\nbetween life and death.\n\n\"But in this was Glam's might more fiendish than that of most other\nghosts, that he spoke in this fashion:  'Great eagerness have you\nshown to meet me, Grettir, and little wonder will it be though you get\nno great good fortune from me; but this I may tell you, that you have\nnow received only half of the strength and vigour that was destined\nfor you if you had not met with me.  I cannot now take from you the\nstrength you have already gained, but this I can see to, that you will\nnever be stronger than you are now, and yet you are strong enough, as\nmany a man shall feel.  Hitherto you have been famous for your deeds,\nbut henceforth you shall be a manslayer and an outlaw, and most of\nyour deeds will turn to your own hurt and misfortune.  Outlawed you\nshall be, and ever have a solitary life for your lot; and this, too, I\nlay upon you, ever to see these eyes of mine before your own, and then\nyou will think it hard to be alone, and that will bring you to your\ndeath.'\n\n\"When Glam had said this the faintness passed off Grettir, and he then\ndrew his dagger, cut off Glam's head, and laid it beside his thigh.\nThorhall then came out, having put on his clothes while Glam was\ntalking, but never venturing to come near until he had fallen.  He\npraised God, and thanked Grettir for overcoming the unclean spirit.\nThen they set to work, and burned Glam to ashes, which they placed in\na sack, and buried where cattle were least likely to pasture or men to\ntread.  When this was done they went home again, and it was now near\ndaybreak.\n\n\"Thorhall sent to the next farm for the men there, and told them what\nhad taken place.  All thought highly of the exploit that heard of it,\nand it was the common talk that in all Iceland there was no man like\nGrettir Asnundarson for strength and courage and all kinds of bodily\nfeats.  Thorhall gave him a good horse when he went away, as well as a\nfine suit of clothes, for the ones he had been wearing were all torn\nto pieces.  The two then parted with the utmost friendship.\n\n\"Thence Grettir rode to the Ridge in Water-dale, where his kinsman\nThorvald received him heartily, and asked closely concerning his\nencounter with Glam.  Grettir told him how he had fared, and said that\nhis strength was never put to harder proof, so long did the struggle\nbetween them last.  Thorvald bade him be quiet and gentle in his\nconduct, and things would go well with him, otherwise his troubles\nwould be many.  Grettir answered that his temper was not improved; he\nwas more easily roused than ever, and less able to bear opposition.\nIn this, too, he felt a great change, that he had become so much\nafraid of the dark that he dared not go anywhere alone after night\nbegan to fall, for then he saw phantoms and monsters of every kind.\nSo it has become a saying ever since then, when folk see things very\ndifferent from what they are, that Glam lends them his eyes, or gives\nthem glam-sight.\n\n\"This fear of solitude brought Grettir, at last, to his end.\"\n\nGhosts being seldom dangerous to human life, we follow up the\nhomicidal Glam with a Scottish traditional story of malevolent and\nmurderous sprites.\n\n'THE FOUL FORDS' OR THE LONGFORMACUS FARRIER\n\n\"About 1820 there lived a Farrier of the name of Keane in the village\nof Longformacus in Lammermoor.  He was a rough, passionate man, much\naddicted to swearing.  For many years he was farrier to the Eagle or\nSpottiswood troop of Yeomanry.  One day he went to Greenlaw to attend\nthe funeral of his sister, intending to be home early in the\nafternoon.  His wife and family were surprised when he did not appear\nas they expected and they sat up watching for him.  About two o'clock\nin the morning a heavy weight was heard to fall against the door of\nthe house, and on opening it to see what was the matter, old Keane was\ndiscovered lying in a fainting fit on the threshold.  He was put to\nbed and means used for his recovery, but when he came out of the fit\nhe was raving mad and talked of such frightful things that his family\nwere quite terrified.  He continued till next day in the same state,\nbut at length his senses returned and he desired to see the minister\nalone.\n\n\"After a long conversation with him he called all his family round his\nbed, and required from each of his children and his wife a solemn\npromise that they would none of them ever pass over a particular spot\nin the moor between Longformacus and Greenlaw, known by the name of\n'The Foul Fords' (it is the ford over a little water-course just east\nof Castle Shields).  He assigned no reason to them for this demand,\nbut the promise was given and he spoke no more, and died that evening.\n\n\"About ten years after his death, his eldest son Henry Keane had to go\nto Greenlaw on business, and in the afternoon he prepared to return\nhome.  The last person who saw him as he was leaving the town was the\nblacksmith of Spottiswood, John Michie.  He tried to persuade Michie\nto accompany him home, which he refused to do as it would take him\nseveral miles out of his way.  Keane begged him most earnestly to go\nwith him as he said he _must_ pass the Foul Fords that night, and he\nwould rather go through hell-fire than do so.  Michie asked him why he\nsaid he _must_ pass the Foul Fords, as by going a few yards on either\nside of them he might avoid them entirely.  He persisted that he\n_must_ pass them and Michie at last left him, a good deal surprised\nthat he should talk of going over the Foul Fords when every one knew\nthat he and his whole family were bound, by a promise to their dead\nfather, never to go by the place.\n\n\"Next morning a labouring man from Castle Shields, by name Adam\nRedpath, was going to his work (digging sheep-drains on the moor),\nwhen on the Foul Fords he met Henry Keane lying stone dead and with no\nmark of violence on his body.  His hat, coat, waistcoat, shoes and\nstockings were lying at about 100 yards distance from him on the\nGreenlaw side of the Fords, and while his flannel drawers were off and\nlying with the rest of his clothes, his trousers were on.  Mr. Ord,\nthe minister of Longformacus, told one or two persons what John Keane\n(the father) had said to him on his deathbed, and by degrees the story\ngot abroad.  It was this.  Keane said that he was returning home\nslowly after his sister's funeral, looking on the ground, when he was\nsuddenly roused by hearing the tramping of horses, and on looking up\nhe saw a large troop of riders coming towards him two and two.  What\nwas his horror when he saw that one of the two foremost was the sister\nwhom he had that day seen buried at Greenlaw!  On looking further he\nsaw many relations and friends long before dead; but when the two last\nhorses came up to him he saw that one was mounted by a dark man whose\nface he had never seen before.  He led the other horse, which, though\nsaddled and bridled, was riderless, and on this horse the whole\ncompany wanted to compel Keane to get.  He struggled violently, he\nsaid, for some time, and at last got off by promising that one of his\nfamily should go instead of him.\n\n\"There still lives at Longformacus his remaining son Robert; he has\nthe same horror of the Foul Fords that his brother had, and will not\nspeak, nor allow any one to speak to him on the subject.\n\n\"Three or four years ago a herd of the name of Burton was found dead\nwithin a short distance of the spot, without any apparent cause for\nhis death.\" {272}\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\nThe Marvels at Froda\n\n\nThe following tale has all the direct simplicity and truth to human\nnature which mark the ancient literature of Iceland.  Defoe might have\nenvied the profusion of detail; \"The large chest with a lock, and the\nsmall box,\" and so on.  Some of the minor portents, such as the\ndisturbances among inanimate objects, and the appearance of a glow of\nmysterious light, \"the Fate Moon,\" recur in modern tales of haunted\nhouses.  The combination of Christian exorcism, then a novelty in\nIceland, with legal proceedings against the ghosts, is especially\ncharacteristic.\n\nTHE MARVELS AT FRODA {273}\n\nDuring that summer in which Christianity was adopted by law in Iceland\n(1000 A.D.), it happened that a ship came to land at Snowfell Ness.\nIt was a Dublin vessel, manned by Irish and Hebrideans, with few\nNorsemen on board.  They lay there for a long time during the summer,\nwaiting for a favourable wind to sail into the firth, and many people\nfrom the Ness went down to trade with them.  There was on board a\nHebridean woman named Thorgunna, of whom her shipmates said that she\nowned some costly things, the like of which would be difficult to find\nin Iceland.  When Thurid, the housewife at Froda, heard of this she\nwas very curious to see the articles, for she was a woman that was\nfond of show and finery.  She went to the ship and asked Thorgunna\nwhether she had any woman's apparel that was finer than the common.\nThorgunna said that she had nothing of the kind to sell, but had some\ngood things of her own, that she might not be affronted at feasts or\nother gatherings.  Thurid begged a sight of these, and Thorgunna\nshowed her treasures.  Thurid was much pleased with them, and thought\nthem very becoming, though not of high value.  She offered to buy\nthem, but Thorgunna would not sell.  Thurid then invited her to come\nand stay with her, because she knew that Thorgunna was well provided,\nand thought that she would get the things from her in course of time.\n\nThorgunna answered, \"I am well pleased to go to stay with you, but you\nmust know that I have little mind to pay for myself, because I am well\nable to work, and have no dislike to it, though I will not do any\ndirty work.  I must be allowed to settle what I shall pay for myself\nout of such property as I have.\"\n\nAlthough Thorgunna spoke in this fashion, yet Thurid would have her to\ngo with her, and her things were taken out of the ship; these were in\na large chest with a lock and a small box, and both were taken home to\nFroda.  When Thorgunna arrived there she asked for her bed to be shown\nher, and was given one in the inner part of the hall.  Then she opened\nup the chest, and took bed-clothes out of it:  they were all very\nbeautiful, and over the bed she spread English coverlets and a silken\nquilt.  Out of the chest she also brought a bed-curtain and all the\nhangings that belonged to it, and the whole outfit was so fine that\nfolk thought they had never seen the like of it.\n\nThen said Thurid the housewife:  \"Name the price of all your bed-\nclothes and hangings\".\n\nThorgunna answered, \"I will not lie among straw for you, although you\nare so stately, and bear yourself so proudly\".\n\nThurid was ill pleased at this, and offered no more to buy the things.\n\nThorgunna worked at cloth-making every day when there was no hay-\nmaking, but when the weather was dry she worked among the dry hay in\nthe home field, and had a rake made for herself which she alone was to\nuse.  Thorgunna was a big woman, both broad and tall, and very stout;\nshe had dark eyebrows, and her eyes were close set; her hair brown and\nin great abundance.  She was well-mannered in her daily life, and went\nto church every day before beginning her work, but she was not of a\nlight disposition nor of many words.  Most people thought that\nThorgunna must be in the sixties, yet she was a very active woman.\n\nAt this time one Thorir \"wooden-leg\" and his wife Thorgrima \"charm-\ncheek\" were being maintained at Froda, and there was little love\nbetween them and Thorgunna.  The person that she had most ado with was\nKjartan, the son of the house; him she loved much, but he was rather\ncold towards her, and this often vexed her.  Kjartan was then fifteen\nyears old, and was both big of body and manly in appearance.\n\nThe summer that year was very wet, but in the autumn there came dry\ndays.  By this time the hay-work at Froda was so far advanced that all\nthe home field was mown, and nearly the half of it was quite dry.\nThere came then a fine dry day, clear and bright, with not a cloud to\nbe seen in all the sky.  Thorodd, the yeoman, rose early in the\nmorning and arranged the work of each one; some began to cart off the\nhay, and some to put it into stalks, while the women were set to toss\nand dry it.  Thorgunna also had her share assigned to her, and the\nwork went on well during the day.  When it drew near to three in the\nafternoon, a mass of dark clouds was seen rising in the north which\ncame rapidly across the sky and took its course right above the farm.\nThey thought it certain that there was rain in the cloud and Thorodd\nbade his people rake the hay together; but Thorgunna continued to\nscatter hers, in spite of the orders that were given.  The clouds came\non quickly, and when they were above the homestead at Froda there came\nsuch darkness with them that the people could see nothing beyond the\nhome field; indeed, they could scarcely distinguish their own hands.\nOut of the cloud came so much rain that all the hay which was lying\nflat was quite soaked.  When the cloud had passed over and the sky\ncleared again, it was seen that blood had fallen amid the rain.  In\nthe evening there was a good draught, and the blood soon dried off all\nthe hay except that which Thorgunna had been working at; it did not\ndry, nor did the rake that she had been using.\n\nThurid asked Thorgunna what she supposed this marvel might portend.\nShe said that she did not know, \"but it seems to me most likely that\nit is an evil omen for some person who is present here\".  In the\nevening Thorgunna went home and took off her clothes, which had been\nstained with the blood; then she lay down in her bed and breathed\nheavily, and it was found that she was taken with sickness.  The\nshower had not fallen anywhere else than at Froda.\n\nAll that evening Thorgunna would taste no food.  In the morning\nThorodd came to her and asked about her sickness, and what end she\nthought it would have.  She answered that she did not expect to have\nany more illnesses.  Then she said:  \"I consider you the wisest person\nin the homestead here, and so I shall tell you what arrangements I\nwish to make about the property that I leave behind me, and about\nmyself, for things will go as I tell you, though you think there is\nnothing very remarkable about me.  It will do you little good to\ndepart from my instructions, for this affair has so begun that it will\nnot pass smoothly off, unless strong measures are taken in dealing\nwith it.\"\n\nThorodd answered:  \"There seems to me great likelihood that your\nforebodings will come true; and therefore,\" said he, \"I shall promise\nto you not to depart from your instructions\".\n\n\"These are my arrangements,\" said Thorgunna, \"that I will have myself\ntaken to Skalholt if I die of this sickness, for my mind forbodes me\nthat that place will some time or other be the most glorious spot in\nthis land.  I know also that by now there are priests there to sing\nthe funeral service over me.  So I ask you to have me carried thither,\nand for that you shall take so much of my property that you suffer no\nloss in the matter.  Of my other effects, Thurid shall have the\nscarlet cloak that I own, and I give it her so that she may readily\nconsent to my disposing of all the rest as I please.  I have a gold\nring, and it shall go to the church with me; but as for my bed and\nbed-hangings, I will have them burned with fire, because they will be\nof service to no one.  I do not say this because I grudge that any one\nshould possess these treasures, if I knew that they would be of use to\nthem; rather am I so earnest in the matter, because I should be sorry\nfor folk to fall into such trouble for me, as I know will be the case\nif my words are not heeded.\"\n\nThorodd promised to do as she asked him, and after this Thorgunna's\nsickness increased, so that she lay but few days before she died.  The\nbody was first taken to the church, and Thorodd had a coffin made for\nit.  On the following day Thorodd had all the bed-clothes carried out\ninto the open air, and made a pile of wood beside them.  Then Thurid\nthe housewife came up, and asked what he was going to do with the bed-\nclothes.  He answered that he was to burn them with fire, as Thorgunna\nhad directed him.  \"I will not have such treasures burned,\" said\nThurid.  Thorodd answered:  \"She declared strongly that it would not\ndo to depart from what she said\".  \"That was mere jealousy,\" said\nThurid; \"she grudged any other person the use of them, and that was\nwhy she gave these orders; but nothing terrible will happen though her\nwords are set aside.\"  \"I doubt,\" said he, \"whether it will be well to\ndo otherwise than as she charged me.\"\n\nThen Thurid laid her arms round his neck, and besought him not to burn\nthe furnishings of the bed, and so much did she press him in this that\nhis heart gave way to her, and she managed it so that Thorodd burned\nthe mattresses and pillows, while she took for herself the quilt and\ncoverlets and all the hangings.  Yet neither of them was well pleased.\n\nAfter this the funeral was made ready; trustworthy men were sent with\nthe body, and good horses which Thorodd owned.  The body was wrapped\nin linen, but not sewed up in it, and then laid in the coffin.  After\nthis they held south over the heath as the paths go, and went on until\nthey came to a farm called Lower Ness, which lies in the Tongues of\nStaf-holt.  There they asked leave to stay over night, but the farmer\nwould give them no hospitality.  However, as it was close on\nnightfall, they did not see how they could go on, for they thought it\nwould be dangerous to deal with the White River by night.  They\ntherefore unloaded their horses, and carried the body into an out-\nhouse, after which they went into the sitting-room and took off their\nouter clothes, intending to stay there over night without food.\n\nThe people of the house were going to bed by daylight, and after they\nwere in bed a great noise was heard in the kitchen.  Some went to see\nwhether thieves had not broken in, and when they reached the kitchen\nthey saw there a tall woman.  She was quite naked, with no clothes\nwhatever upon her, and was busy preparing food.  Those who saw her\nwere so terrified that they dared not go near her at all.  When the\nfuneral party heard of this they went thither, and saw what the matter\nwas--Thorgunna had come there, and it seemed advisable to them all not\nto meddle with her.  When she had done all that she wanted, she\nbrought the food into the room, set the tables and laid the food upon\nthem.  Then the funeral party said to the farmer:  \"It may happen in\nthe end, before we part, that you will think it dearly bought that you\nwould show us no hospitality\".  Both the farmer and the housewife\nanswered:  \"We will willingly give you food, and do you all other\nservices that you require\".\n\nAs soon as the farmer had offered them this, Thorgunna passed out of\nthe room into the kitchen, and then went outside, nor did she show\nherself again.  Then a light was kindled in the room, and the wet\nclothes of the guests were taken off, and dry ones given them in their\nplace.  After this they sat down at table, and blessed their food,\nwhile the farmer had holy water sprinkled over all the house.  The\nguests ate their food, and it harmed no man, although Thorgunna had\nprepared it.  They slept there that night, and were treated with great\nhospitality.\n\nIn the morning they continued their journey, and things went very\nsmoothly with them; wherever this affair was heard of, most people\nthought it best to do them all the service that they required, and of\ntheir journey no more is to be told.  When they came to Skalholt, they\nhanded over the precious things which Thorgunna had sent thither:  the\nring and other articles, all of which the priests gladly received.\nThorgunna was buried there, while the funeral party returned home,\nwhich they all reached in safety.\n\nAt Froda there was a large hall with a fireplace in the midde, and a\nbed-closet at the inner end of it, as was then the custom.  At the\nouter end were two store-closets, one on each side; dried fish were\npiled in one of these, and there was meal in the other.  In this hall\nfires were kindled every evening, as was the custom, and folk sat\nround these fires for a long while before they went to supper.  On\nthat evening on which the funeral party came home, while the folk at\nFroda were sitting round the fires, they saw a half-moon appear on the\npanelling of the hall, and it was visible to all those who were\npresent.  It went round the room backwards and against the sun's\ncourse, nor did it disappear so long as they sat by the fires.\nThorodd asked Thorir Wooden-leg what this might portend.  \"It is the\nMoon of Fate,\" said Thorir, \"and deaths will come after it.\"  This\nwent on all that week that the Fate-Moon came in every evening.\n\nThe next tidings that happened at Froda were that the shepherd came in\nand was very silent; he spoke little, and that in a frenzied manner.\nFolk were most inclined to believe that he had been bewitched, because\nhe went about by himself, and talked to himself.  This went on for\nsome time, but one evening, when two weeks of winter had passed, the\nshepherd came home, went to his bed, and lay down there.  When they\nwent to him in the morning he was dead, and was buried at the church.\n\nSoon after this there began great hauntings.  One night Thorir Wooden-\nleg went outside and was at some distance from the door.  When he was\nabout to go in again, he saw that the shepherd had come between him\nand the door.  Thorir tried to get in, but the shepherd would not\nallow him.  Then Thorir tried to get away from him, but the shepherd\nfollowed him, caught hold of him, and threw him down at the door.  He\nreceived great hurt from this, but was able to reach his bed; there he\nturned black as coal, took sickness and died.  He was also buried at\nthe church there, and after this both the shepherd and Thorir were\nseen in company, at which all the folk became full of fear, as was to\nbe expected.\n\nThis also followed upon the burial of Thorir, that one of Thorodd's\nmen grew ill, and lay three nights before he died; then one died after\nanother, until six of them were gone.  By this time the Christmas fast\nhad come, although the fast was not then kept in Iceland.  The store-\ncloset, in which the dried fish were kept, was packed so full that the\ndoor could not be opened; the pile reached nigh up to the rafters, and\na ladder was required to get the fish off the top of it.  One evening\nwhile the folk were sitting round the fires, the fish were torn, but\nwhen search was made no living thing could be found there.\n\nDuring the winter, a little before Christmas, Thorodd went out to Ness\nfor the fish he had there; there were six men in all in a ten-oared\nboat, and they stayed out there all night.  The same evening that\nThorodd went from home, it happened at Froda, when folk went to sit by\nthe fires that had been made, that they saw a seal's head rise up out\nof the fireplace.  A maid-servant was the first who came forward and\nsaw this marvel; she took a washing-bat which lay beside the door, and\nstruck the seal's head with this, but it rose up at the blow and gazed\nat Thorgunna's bed-hangings.  Then one of the men went up and beat the\nseal, but it rose higher at every blow until it had come up above the\nfins; then the man fell into a swoon, and all those who were present\nwere filled with fear.  Then the lad Kjartan sprang forward, took up a\nlarge iron sledge-hammer and struck at the seal's head; it was a heavy\nblow, but it only shook its head, and looked round.  Then Kjartan gave\nit stroke after stroke, and the seal went down as though he were\ndriving in a stake.  Kjartan hammered away till the seal went down so\nfar that he beat the floor close again above its head, and during the\nrest of the winter all the portents were most afraid of Kjartan.\n\nNext morning, while Thorodd and the others were coming in from Ness\nwith the fish, they were all lost out from Enni; the boat and the fish\ndrove on shore there, but the bodies were never found.  When the news\nof this reached Froda, Kjartan and Thurid invited their neighbours to\nthe funeral banquet, and the ale prepared for Christmas was used for\nthis purpose.  The first evening of the feast, however, after the folk\nhad taken their seats, there came into the hall Thorodd and his\ncompanions, all dripping wet.  The folk greeted Thorodd well, thinking\nthis a good omen, for at that time it was firmly believed that drowned\nmen, who came to their own funeral feast, were well received by Ran,\nthe sea-goddess; and the old beliefs had as yet suffered little,\nthough folk were baptised and called Christians.\n\nThorodd and his fellows went right along the hall where the folk sat,\nand passed into the one where the fires were, answering no man's\ngreeting.  Those of the household who were in the hall ran out, and\nThorodd and his men sat down beside the fires, where they remained\ntill they had fallen into ashes; then they went away again.  This\nbefel every evening while the banquet lasted, and there was much talk\nabout it among those who were present.  Some thought that it would\nstop when the feast was ended.  When the banquet was over the guests\nwent home, leaving the place very dull and dismal.\n\nOn the evening after they had gone, the fires were kindled as usual,\nand after they had burned up, there came in Thorodd with his company,\nall of them wet.  They sat down by the fire and began to wring their\nclothes; and after they had sat down there came in Thorir Wooden-leg\nand his five companions, all covered with earth.  They shook their\nclothes and scattered the earth on Thorodd and his fellows.  The folk\nof the household rushed out of the hall, as might be expected, and all\nthat evening they had no light nor any warmth from the fire.\n\nNext evening the fires were made in the other hall, as the dead men\nwould be less likely to come there; but this was not so, for\neverything happened just as it had done on the previous evening, and\nboth parties came to sit by the fires.\n\nOn the third evening Kjartan advised that a large fire should be made\nin the hall, and a little fire in another and smaller room.  This was\ndone, and things then went on in this fashion, that Thorodd and the\nothers sat beside the big fire, while the household contented\nthemselves with the little one, and this lasted right through\nChristmas-tide.\n\nBy this time there was more and more noise in the pile of fish, and\nthe sound of them being torn was heard both by night and day.  Some\ntime after this it was necessary to take down some of the fish, and\nthe man who went up on the pile saw this strange thing, that up out of\nthe pile there came a tail, in appearance like a singed ox-tail.  It\nwas black and covered with hair like a seal.  The man laid hold of it\nand pulled, and called on the others to come and help him.  Others\nthen got up on the heap, both men and women, and pulled at the tail,\nbut all to no purpose.  It seemed to them that the tail was dead, but\nwhile they tugged at it, it flew out of their hands taking the skin\noff the palms of those who had been holding it hardest, and no more\nwas ever seen of the tail.  The fish were then taken up and every one\nwas found to be torn out of the skin, yet no living thing was to be\nfound in the pile.\n\nFollowing upon this, Thorgrima Charm-cheek, the wife of Thorir Wooden-\nleg, fell ill, and lay only a little while before she died, and the\nsame evening that she was buried she was seen in company with her\nhusband Thorir.  The sickness then began a second time after the tail\nhad been seen, and now the women died more than the men.  Another six\npersons died in this attack, and some fled away on account of the\nghosts and the hauntings.  In the autumn there had been thirty in the\nhousehold, of whom eighteen were dead, and five had run away, leaving\nonly seven behind in the spring.\n\nWhen these marvels had reached this pitch, it happened one day that\nKjartan went to Helga-fell to see his uncle Snorri, and asked his\nadvice as to what should be done.  There had then come to Helga-fell a\npriest whom Gizurr the white had sent to Snorri, and this priest\nSnorri sent to Froda along with Kjartan, his son Thord, and six other\nmen.  He also gave them this advice, that they should burn all\nThorgunna's bed-hangings and hold a law court at the door, and there\nprosecute all those men who were walking after death.  He also bade\nthe priest hold service there, consecrate water, and confess the\npeople.  They summoned men from the nearest farms to accompany them,\nand arrived at Froda on the evening before Candlemas, just at the time\nwhen the fires were being kindled.  Thurid the housewife had then\ntaken the sickness after the same fashion as those who had died.\nKjartan went in at once, and saw that Thorodd and the others were\nsitting by the fire as usual.  He took down Thorgunna's bed-hangings,\nwent into the hall, and carried out a live coal from the fire:  then\nall the bed-gear that Thorgunna had owned was burned.\n\nAfter this Kjartan summoned Thorir Wooden-leg, and Thord summoned\nThorodd, on the charge of going about the homestead without leave, and\ndepriving men of both health and life; all those who sat beside the\nfire were summoned in the same way.  Then a court was held at the\ndoor, in which the charges were declared, and everything done as in a\nregular law court; opinions were given, the case summed up, and\njudgment passed.  After sentence had been pronounced on Thorir Wooden-\nleg, he rose up and said:  \"Now we have sat as long as we can bear\".\nAfter this he went out by the other door from that at which the court\nwas held.  Then sentence was passed on the shepherd, and when he heard\nit he stood up and said:  \"Now I shall go, and I think it would have\nbeen better before\".  When Thorgrima heard sentence pronounced on her,\nshe rose up and said:  \"Now we have stayed while it could be borne\".\nThen one after another was summoned, and each stood up as judgment was\ngiven upon him; all of them said something as they went out, and\nshowed that they were loath to part.  Finally sentence was passed on\nThorodd himself, and when he heard it, he rose and said:  \"Little\npeace I find here, and let us all flee now,\" and went out after that.\nThen Kjartan and the others entered and the priest carried holy water\nand sacred relics over all the house.  Later on in the day he held\nsolemn service, and after this all the hauntings and ghost-walkings at\nFroda ceased, while Thurid recovered from her sickness and became well\nagain.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\n\nSpiritualistic Floating Hands.  Hands in Haunted Houses.  Jerome\nCardan's Tale.  \"The Cold Hand.\"  The Beach-comber's Tale.  \"The Black\nDogs and the Thumbless Hand.\"  The Pakeha Maori and \"The Leprous\nHand\".  \"The Hand of the Ghost that Bit.\"\n\nHANDS ALL ROUND\n\nNothing was more common, in the seances of Home, the \"Medium,\" than\nthe appearance of \"Spirit hands\".  If these were made of white kid\ngloves, stuffed, the idea, at least, was borrowed from ghost stories,\nin which ghostly hands, with no visible bodies, are not unusual.  We\nsee them in the Shchapoff case, at Rerrick, and in other haunted\nhouses.  Here are some tales of Hands, old or new.\n\nTHE COLD HAND\n\n[Jerome Cardan, the famous physician, tells the following anecdote in\nhis De Rerum Varietate, lib. x., 93.  Jerome only once heard a rapping\nhimself, at the time of the death of a friend at a distance.  He was\nin a terrible fright, and dared not leave his room all day.]\n\nA story which my father used often to tell:  \"I was brought up,\" he\nsaid, \"in the house of Joannes Resta, and therein taught Latin to his\nthree sons; when I left them I supported myself on my own means.  It\nchanced that one of these lads, while I was studying medicine, fell\ndeadly sick, he being now a young man grown, and I was called in to be\nwith the youth, partly for my knowledge of medicine, partly for old\nfriendship's sake.  The master of the house happened to be absent; the\npatient slept in an upper chamber, one of his brothers and I in a\nlower room, the third brother, Isidore, was not at home.  Each of the\nrooms was next to a turret; turrets being common in that city.  When\nwe went to bed on the first night of my visit, I heard a constant\nknocking on the wall of the room.\n\n\"'What is that?' I said.\n\n\"'Don't be afraid, it is only a familiar spirit,' said my companion.\n'They call them follets; it is harmless enough, and seldom so\ntroublesome as it is now:  I don't know what can be the matter with\nit.'\n\n\"The young fellow went to sleep, but I was kept awake for a while,\nwondering and observing.  After half an hour of stillness I felt a\nthumb press on my head, and a sense of cold.  I kept watching; the\nforefinger, the middle finger, and the rest of the hand were next laid\non, the little finger nearly reaching my forehead.  The hand was like\nthat of a boy of ten, to guess by the size, and so cold that it was\nextremely unpleasant.  Meantime I was chuckling over my luck in such\nan opportunity of witnessing a wonder, and I listened eagerly.\n\n\"The hand stole with the ring finger foremost over my face and down my\nnose, it was slipping into my mouth, and two finger-tips had entered,\nwhen I threw it off with my right hand, thinking it was uncanny, and\nnot relishing it inside my body.  Silence followed and I lay awake,\ndistrusting the spectre more or less.  In about half an hour it\nreturned and repeated its former conduct, touching me very lightly,\nyet very chilly.  When it reached my mouth I again drove it away.\nThough my lips were tightly closed, I felt an extreme icy cold in my\nteeth.  I now got out of bed, thinking this might be a friendly visit\nfrom the ghost of the sick lad upstairs, who must have died.\n\n\"As I went to the door, the thing passed before me, rapping on the\nwalls.  When I was got to the door it knocked outside; when I opened\nthe door, it began to knock on the turret.  The moon was shining; I\nwent on to see what would happen, but it beat on the other sides of\nthe tower, and, as it always evaded me, I went up to see how my\npatient was.  He was alive, but very weak.\n\n\"As I was speaking to those who stood about his bed, we heard a noise\nas if the house was falling.  In rushed my bedfellow, the brother of\nthe sick lad, half dead with terror.\n\n\"'When you got up,' he said, 'I felt a cold hand on my back.  I\nthought it was you who wanted to waken me and take me to see my\nbrother, so I pretended to be asleep and lay quiet, supposing that you\nwould go alone when you found me so sound asleep.  But when I did not\nfeel you get up, and the cold hand grew to be more than I could bear,\nI hit out to push your hand away, and felt your place empty--but warm.\nThen I remembered the follet, and ran upstairs as hard as I could put\nmy feet to the ground:  never was I in such a fright!'\n\n\"The sick lad died on the following night.\"\n\nHere Carden the elder stopped, and Jerome, his son, philosophised on\nthe subject.\n\nMiss Dendy, on the authority of Mr. Elijah Cope, an itinerant\npreacher, gives this anecdote of similar familiarity with a follet in\nStaffordshire.\n\n* * * * *\n\n\"Fairies!  I went into a farmhouse to stay a night, and in the evening\nthere came a knocking in the room as if some one had struck the table.\nI jumped up.  My hostess got up and 'Good-night,' says she, 'I'm off'.\n'But what was it?' says I.  'Just a poor old fairy,' says she; 'Old\nNancy.  She's a poor old thing; been here ever so long; lost her\nhusband and her children; it's bad to be left like that, all alone.  I\nleave a bit o' cake on the table for her, and sometimes she fetches\nit, and sometimes she don't.\"\n\nTHE BLACK DOG AND THE THUMBLESS HAND\n\n[Some years ago I published in a volume of tales called The Wrong\nParadise, a paper styled \"My Friend the Beach-comber\".  This contained\ngenuine adventures of a kinsman, my oldest and most intimate friend,\nwho has passed much of his life in the Pacific, mainly in a foreign\ncolony, and in the wild New Hebrides.  My friend is a man of\neducation, an artist, and a student of anthropology and ethnology.\nEngaged on a work of scientific research, he has not committed any of\nhis innumerable adventures, warlike or wandering, to print.  The\nfollowing \"yarn\" he sent to me lately, in a letter on some points of\nnative customs.  Of course the description of the Beach-comber, in the\nbook referred to, is purely fictitious.  The yarn of \"The Thumbless\nHand\" is here cast in a dialogue, but the whole of the strange\nexperience described is given in the words of the narrator.  It should\nbe added that, though my friend was present at some amateur seances,\nin a remote isle of the sea, he is not a spiritualist, never was one,\nand has no theory to account for what occurred, and no belief in\n\"spooks\" of any description.  His faith is plighted to the theories of\nMr. Darwin, and that is his only superstition.  The name of the\nprincipal character in the yarn is, of course, fictitious.  The real\nname is an old but not a noble one in England.]\n\n\"Have the natives the custom of walking through fire?\" said my friend\nthe Beach-comber, in answer to a question of mine.  \"Not that I know\nof.  In fact the soles of their feet are so thick-skinned that they\nwould think nothing of it.\"\n\n\"Then have they any spiritualistic games, like the Burmans and\nMaories?  I have a lot of yarns about them.\"\n\n\"They are too jolly well frightened of bush spirits to invite them to\ntea,\" said the Beach-comber.  \"I knew a fellow who got a bit of land\nmerely by whistling up and down in it at nightfall. {292}  They think\nspirits whistle.  No, I don't fancy they go in for seances.  But we\nonce had some, we white men, in one of the islands.  Not the Oui-ouis\"\n(native name for the French), \"real white men.  And that led to\nBolter's row with me.\"\n\n\"What about?\"\n\n\"Oh, about his young woman.  I told her the story; it was thoughtless,\nand yet I don't know that I was wrong.  After all, Bolter could not\nhave been a comfortable fellow to marry.\"\n\nIn this opinion readers of the Beach-comber's narrative will probably\nagree, I fancy.\n\n\"Bad moral character?\"\n\n\"Not that I know of.  Queer fish; kept queer company.  Even if she was\never so fond of dogs, I don't think a girl would have cared for\nBolter's kennel.  Not in her bedroom anyway.\"\n\n\"But she could surely have got him to keep them outside, however doggy\nhe was?\"\n\n\"He was not doggy a bit.  I don't know that Bolter ever saw the black\ndogs himself.  He certainly never told me so.  It is that beastly\nThumbless Hand, no woman could have stood it, not to mention the\nchance of catching cold when it pulled the blankets off.\"\n\n\"What on earth are you talking about?  I can understand a man attended\nby black dogs that nobody sees but himself.  The Catholics tell it of\nJohn Knox, and of another Reformer, a fellow called Smeaton.\nMoreover, it is common in delirium tremens.  But you say Bolter didn't\nsee the dogs?\"\n\n\"No, not so far as he told me, but I did, and other fellows, when with\nBolter.  Bolter was asleep; he didn't see anything.  Also the Hand,\nwhich was a good deal worse.  I don't know if he ever saw it.  But he\nwas jolly nervous, and he had heard of it.\"\n\nThe habits of the Beach-comber are absolutely temperate, otherwise my\nastonishment would have been less, and I should have regarded all\nthese phenomena as subjective.\n\n\"Tell me about it all, old cock,\" I said.\n\n\"I'm sure I told you last time I was at home.\"\n\n\"Never; my memory for yarns is only too good.  I hate a chestnut.\"\n\n\"Well, here goes!  Mind you I don't profess to explain the thing; only\nI don't think I did wrong in telling the young woman, for, however you\naccount for it, it was not nice.\"\n\n\"A good many years ago there came to the island, as a clerk, un nomme\nBolter, English or Jew.\"\n\n\"His name is not Jewish.\"\n\n\"No, and I really don't know about his breed.  The most curious thing\nabout his appearance was his eyes:  they were large, black, and had a\npeculiar dull dead lustre.\"\n\n\"Did they shine in the dark?  I knew a fellow at Oxford whose eyes\ndid.  Chairs ran after him.\"\n\n\"I never noticed; I don't remember.  'Psychically,' as you\nsuperstitious muffs call it, Bolter was still more queer.  At that\ntime we were all gone on spirit-rapping.  Bolter turned out a great\nacquisition, 'medium,' or what not.  Mind you, I'm not saying Bolter\nwas straight.  In the dark he'd tell you what you had in your hand,\nexact time of your watch, and so on.  I didn't take stock in this, and\none night brought some photographs with me, and asked for a\ndescription of them.  This he gave correctly, winding up by saying,\n'The one nearest your body is that of ---'\"\n\nHere my friend named a person well known to both of us, whose name I\nprefer not to introduce here.  This person, I may add, had never been\nin or near the island, and was totally unknown to Bolter.\n\n\"Of course,\" my friend went on, \"the photographs were all the time\ninside my pocket.  Now, really, Bolter had some mystic power of seeing\nin the dark.\"\n\n\"Hyperaesthesia!\" said I.\n\n\"Hypercriticism!\" said the Beach-comber.\n\n\"What happened next _might_ be hyperaesthesia--I suppose you mean\nabnormal intensity of the senses--but how could hyperaesthesia see\nthrough a tweed coat and lining?\"\n\n\"Well, what happened next?\"\n\n\"Bolter's firm used to get sheep by every mail from ---, and send them\nregularly to their station, six miles off.  One time they landed late\nin the afternoon, and yet were foolishly sent off, Bolter in charge.\nI said at the time he would lose half the lot, as it would be dark\nlong before he could reach the station.  He didn't lose them!\n\n\"Next day I met one of the niggers who was sent to lend him a hand,\nand asked results.\n\n\"'Master,' said the nigger, 'Bolter is a devil!  He sees at night.\nWhen the sheep ran away to right or left in the dark, he told us where\nto follow.'\"\n\n\"He _heard_ them, I suppose,\" said I.\n\n\"Maybe, but you must be sharp to have sharper senses than these\nniggers.  Anyhow, that was not Bolter's account of it.  When I saw him\nand spoke to him he said simply, 'Yes, that when excited or interested\nto seek or find anything in obscurity the object became covered with a\ndim glow of light, which rendered it visible'.  'But things in a\npocket.'  'That also,' said he.  'Curious isn't it?  Probably the\nRontgen rays are implicated therein, eh?'\"\n\n\"Did you ever read Dr. Gregory's Letters on Animal Magnetism?\"\n\n\"The cove that invented Gregory's Mixture?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Beast he must have been.  No, I never read him.\"\n\n\"He says that Major Buckley's hypnotised subjects saw hidden objects\nin a blue light--mottoes inside a nut, for example.\"\n\n\"Rontgen rays, for a fiver!  But Bolter said nothing about seeing\n_blue_ light.  Well, after three or four seances Bolter used to be\nvery nervous and unwilling to sleep alone, so I once went with him to\nhis one-roomed hut.  We turned into the same bed.  I was awakened\nlater by a noise and movement in the room.  Found the door open; the\nfull moon streaming in, making light like day, and the place full of\ngreat big black dogs--well, anyhow there were four or five!  They were\nromping about, seemingly playing.  One jumped on the bed, another\nrubbed his muzzle on mine! (the bed was low, and I slept outside).\nNow I never had anything but love for dogs of any kind, and as--n'est-\nce pas?--love casts out fear, I simply got up, turned them all out,\nshut the door, and turned in again myself.  Of course my idea was that\nthey were flesh and blood, and I allude to physical fear.\n\n\"I slept, but was anew awakened by a ghastly feeling that the blanket\nwas being dragged and creeping off the bed.  I pulled it up again, but\nanew began the slow movement of descent.\n\n\"Rather surprised, I pulled it up afresh and held it, and must have\ndozed off, as I suppose.  Awoke, to feel it being pulled again; it was\nslipping, slipping, and then with a sudden, violent jerk it was thrown\non the floor.  Il faut dire that during all this I had glanced several\ntimes at Bolter, who seemed profoundly asleep.  But now alarmed I\ntried to wake him.  In vain, he slept like the dead; his face, always\na pasty white, now like marble in the moonlight.  After some\nhesitation I put the blanket back on the bed and held it fast.  The\npulling at once began and increased in strength, and I, by this time\nthoroughly alarmed, put all my strength against it, and hung on like\ngrim death.\n\n\"To get a better hold I had taken a turn over my head (or perhaps\nsimply to hide), when suddenly I felt a pressure outside on my body,\nand a movement like fingers--they gradually approached my head.  Mad\nwith fear I chucked off the blanket, grasped a Hand, gazed on it for\none moment in silent horror, and threw it away!  No wonder, it was\nattached to no arm or body, it was hairy and dark coloured, the\nfingers were short, blunt, with long, claw-like nails, and it was\nminus a thumb!  Too frightened to get up I had to stop in bed, and, I\nsuppose, fell to sleep again, after fresh vain attempts to awaken\nBolter.  Next morning I told him about it.  He said several men who\nhad thus passed the night with him had seen this hand.  'But,' added\nhe, 'it's lucky you didn't have the big black dogs also.'  Tableau!\n\n\"I was to have slept again with him next night to look further into\nthe matter, but a friend of his came from --- that day, so I could not\nrenew the experiment, as I had fully determined to do.  By-the-bye, I\nwas troubled for months after by the same feeling that the clothes\nwere being pulled off the bed.\n\n\"And that's the yarn of the Black Dogs and the Thumbless Hand.\"\n\n\"I think,\" said I, \"that you did no harm in telling Bolter's young\nwoman.\"\n\n\"I never thought of it when I told her, or of her interest in the\nkennel; but, by George, she soon broke off her engagement.\"\n\n\"Did you know Manning, the Pakeha Maori, the fellow who wrote Old New\nZealand?\"\n\n\"No, what about him?\"\n\n\"He did not put it in his book, but he told the same yarn, without the\ndogs, as having happened to himself.  He saw the whole arm, and _the\nhand was leprous_.\"\n\n\"Ugh!\" said the Beach-comber.\n\n\"Next morning he was obliged to view the body of an old Maori, who had\nbeen murdered in his garden the night before.  That old man's hand was\nthe hand he saw.  I know a room in an old house in England where\nplucking off the bed-clothes goes on, every now and then, and has gone\non as long as the present occupants have been there.  But I only heard\nlately, and _they_ only heard from me, that the same thing used to\noccur, in the same room and no other, in the last generation, when\nanother family lived there.\"\n\n\"Anybody see anything?\"\n\n\"No, only footsteps are heard creeping up, before the twitches come\noff.\"\n\n\"And what do the people do?\"\n\n\"Nothing!  We set a camera once to photograph the spook.  He did not\nsit.\"\n\n\"It's rum!\" said the Beach-comber.  \"But mind you, as to spooks, I\ndon't believe a word of it.\" {299}\n\nTHE GHOST THAT BIT\n\nThe idiot Scotch laird in the story would not let the dentist put his\nfingers into his mouth, \"for I'm feared ye'll bite me\".  The following\nanecdote proves that a ghost may entertain a better founded alarm on\nthis score.  A correspondent of Notes and Queries (3rd Sept., 1864) is\nresponsible for the narrative, given \"almost verbatim from the lips of\nthe lady herself,\" a person of tried veracity.\n\n\"Emma S---, one of seven children, was sleeping alone, with her face\ntowards the west, at a large house near C---, in the Staffordshire\nmoorlands.  As she had given orders to her maid to call her at an\nearly hour, she was not surprised at being awakened between three and\nfour on a fine August morning in 1840 by a sharp tapping at her door,\nwhen in spite of a \"thank you, I hear,\" to the first and second raps,\nwith the third came a rush of wind, which caused the curtains to be\ndrawn up in the centre of the bed.  She became annoyed, and sitting up\ncalled out, \"Marie, what are you about?\"\n\nInstead, however, of her servant, she was astonished to see the face\nof an aunt by marriage peering above and between the curtains, and at\nthe same moment--whether unconsciously she threw forward her arms, or\nwhether they were drawn forward, as it were, in a vortex of air, she\ncannot be sure--one of her thumbs was sensibly pressed between the\nteeth of the apparition, though no mark afterwards remained on it.\nAll this notwithstanding, she remained collected and unalarmed; but\ninstantly arose, dressed, and went downstairs, where she found not a\ncreature stirring.  Her father, on coming down shortly afterwards,\nnaturally asked what had made her rise so early; rallied her on the\ncause, and soon afterwards went on to his sister-in-law's house, where\nhe found that she had just unexpectedly died.  Coming back again, and\nnot noticing his daughter's presence in the room, in consequence of\nher being behind a screen near the fire, he suddenly announced the\nevent to his wife, as being of so remarkable a character that he could\nin no way account for it.  As may be anticipated, Emma, overhearing\nthis unlooked-for denouement of her dream, at once fell to the ground\nin a fainting condition.\n\n_On one of the thumbs of the corpse was found a mark as if it had been\nbitten in the death agony_. {300}\n\nWe have now followed the \"ghostly\" from its germs in dreams, and\nmomentary hallucinations of eye or ear, up to the most prodigious\nnarratives which popular invention has built on bases probably very\nslight.  Where facts and experience, whether real or hallucinatory\nexperience, end, where the mythopoeic fancy comes in, readers may\ndecide for themselves.\n\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes:\n\n\n{0a}  Principles of Psychology, vol. ii., p. 115.  By Professor\nWilliam James, Harvard College, Macmillan's, London, 1890.  The\nphysical processes believed to be involved, are described on pp. 123,\n124 of the same work.\n\n{0b}  Op. cit., ii., 130.\n\n{4}  Story received from Miss ---; confirmed on inquiry by Drumquaigh.\n\n{5a}  Phantasms of the Living, ii., 382.\n\n{5b}  To \"send\" a dream the old Egyptians wrote it out and made a cat\nswallow it!\n\n{8}  See \"Queen Mary's Jewels\" in chapter ii.\n\n{10}  Narrated by Mrs. Herbert.\n\n{11a}  Story confirmed by Mr. A.\n\n{11b}  This child had a more curious experience.  Her nurse was very\nill, and of course did not sleep in the nursery.  One morning the\nlittle girl said, \"Macpherson is better, I saw her come in last night\nwith a candle in her hand.  She just stooped over me and then went to\nTom\" (a younger brother) \"and kissed him in his sleep.\"   Macpherson\nhad died in the night, and her attendants, of course, protested\nignorance of her having left her deathbed.\n\n{11c}  Story received from Lady X.  See another good case in\nProceedings of the Psychical Society, vol. xi., 1895, p. 397.  In this\ncase, however, the finder was not nearer than forty rods to the person\nwho lost a watch in long grass.  He assisted in the search, however,\nand may have seen the watch unconsciously, in a moment of absence of\nmind.  Many other cases in Proceedings of S.P.R.\n\n{13}  Story received in a letter from the dreamer.\n\n{16}  Augustine.  In Library of the Fathers, XVII.  Short Treatises,\npp. 530-531.\n\n{18}  St. Augustine, De Cura pro Mortuis.\n\n{20}  The professor is not sure whether he spoke English or German.\n\n{24}  From Some Account of the Conversion of the late William Hone,\nsupplied by some friend of W. H. to compiler.  Name not given.\n\n{28}  What is now called \"mental telegraphy\" or \"telepathy\" is quite\nan old idea.  Bacon calls it \"sympathy\" between two distant minds,\nsympathy so strong that one communicates with the other without using\nthe recognised channels of the senses.  Izaak Walton explains in the\nsame way Dr. Donne's vision, in Paris, of his wife and dead child.\n\"If two lutes are strung to an exact harmony, and one is struck, the\nother sounds,\" argues Walton.  Two minds may be as harmoniously\nattuned and communicate each with each.  Of course, in the case of the\nlutes there are actual vibrations, physical facts.  But we know\nnothing of vibrations in the brain which can traverse space to another\nbrain.\n\nMany experiments have been made in consciously transferring thoughts\nor emotions from one mind to another.  These are very liable to be\nvitiated by bad observation, collusion and other causes.  Meanwhile,\nintercommunication between mind and mind without the aid of the\nrecognised senses--a supposed process of \"telepathy\"--is a current\nexplanation of the dreams in which knowledge is obtained that exists\nin the mind of another person, and of the delusion by virtue of which\none person sees another who is perhaps dying, or in some other crisis,\nat a distance.  The idea is popular.  A poor Highland woman wrote to\nher son in Glasgow:  \"Don't be thinking too much of us, or I shall be\nseeing you some evening in the byre\".  This is a simple expression of\nthe hypothesis of \"telepathy\" or \"mental telegraphy\".\n\n{31}  Perhaps among such papers as the Casket Letters, exhibited to\nthe Commission at Westminster, and \"tabled\" before the Scotch Privy\nCouncil.\n\n{35a}  To Joseph himself she bequeathed the ruby tortoise given to her\nby his brother.  Probably the diamonds were not Rizzio's gift.\n\n{35b}  Boismont was a distinguished physician and \"Mad Doctor,\" or\n\"Alienist\".  He was also a Christian, and opposed a tendency, not\nuncommon in his time, as in ours, to regard all \"hallucinations\" as a\nproof of mental disease in the \"hallucinated\".\n\n{39a}  S.P.R., v., 324.\n\n{39b}  Ibid., 324.\n\n{42}  Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research, vol. v., pp.\n324, 325.\n\n{43}  Proceedings, S.P.R., vol. xi., p. 495.\n\n{45a}  Signed by Mr. Cooper and the Duchess of Hamilton.\n\n{45b}  See Galton, Inquiries into Human Faculty, p. 91.\n\n{48}  Proceedings, S.P.R., vol. xi., p. 522.\n\n{50}  The case was reported in the Herald (Dubuque) for 12th February,\n1891.  It was confirmed by Mr. Hoffman, by Mr. George Brown and by\nMiss Conley, examined by the Rev. Mr. Crum, of Dubuque.--Proceedings,\nS.P.R., viii., 200-205.  Pat Conley, too, corroborated, and had no\ntheory of explanation.  That the girl knew beforehand of the dollars\nis conceivable, but she did not know of the change of clothes.\n\n{56a}  Told by the nobleman in question to the author.\n\n{56b}  The author knows some eight cases among his friends of a\nsolitary meaningless hallucination like this.\n\n{58}  As to the fact of such visions, I have so often seen crystal\ngazing, and heard the pictures described by persons whose word I could\nnot doubt, men and women of unblemished character, free from\nsuperstition, that I am obliged to believe in the fact as a real\nthough hallucinatory experience.  Mr. Clodd attributes it to disorder\nof the liver.  If no more were needed I could \"scry\" famously!\n\n{60a}  Facts attested and signed by Mr. Baillie and Miss Preston.\n\n{60b}  Story told to me by both my friends and the secretary.\n\n{62}  Memoires, v., 120.  Paris, 1829.\n\n{66}  Readers curious in crystal-gazing will find an interesting\nsketch of the history of the practice, with many modern instances, in\nProceedings, S.P.R., vol. v., p. 486, by \"Miss X.\".  There are also\nexperiments by Lord Stanhope and Dr. Gregory in Gregory's Letters on\nAnimal Magnetism, p. 370 (1851).  It is said that, as sights may be\nseen in a glass ball, so articulate voices, by a similar illusion, can\nbe heard in a sea shell, when\n\n\"It remembers its august abodes,\nAnd murmurs as the ocean murmurs there\".\n\n{68}  A set of scientific men, as Lelut and Lombroso, seem to think\nthat a hallucination stamps a man as _mad_.  Napoleon, Socrates,\nPascal, Jeanne d'Arc, Luther were all lunatics.  They had lucid\nintervals of considerable duration, and the belief in their lunacy is\npeculiar to a small school of writers.\n\n{69a}  A crowd of phantom coaches will be found in Messrs. Myers and\nGurney's Phantasms of the Living.\n\n{69b}  See The Slaying of Sergeant Davies of Guise's.\n\n{70}  Principles of Psychology, by Prof. James of Harvard, vol. ii.,\np. 612.  Charcot is one of sixteen witnesses cited for the fact.\n\n{74}  Story written by General Barter, 28th April, 1888.  (S.P.R.)\nCorroborated by Mrs. Barter and Mr. Stewart, to whom General Barter\ntold his adventure at the time.\n\n{75}  Statement by Mr. F. G., confirmed by his father and brother, who\nwere present when he told his tale first, in St. Louis.  S.P.R.\nProceedings, vol. vi., p. 17.\n\n{76}  S.P.R., viii., p. 178.\n\n{77}   Mrs. M. sent the memorandum to the S.P.R.  \"March 13, 1886.\nHave just seen visions on lawn--a soldier in general's uniform, a\nyoung lady kneeling to him, 11.40 p.m.\"\n\n{78}  S.P.R., viii., p. 178.  The real names are intentionally\nreserved.\n\n{80a}  Corroborated by Mr. Elliot.  Mrs. Elliot nearly fainted.\nS.P.R., viii., 344-345.\n\n{80b}  Oddly enough, maniacs have many more hallucinations of hearing\nthan of sight.  In sane people the reverse is the case.\n\n{82}  Anecdote by the lady.  Boston Budget, 31st August, 1890.\nS.P.R., viii., 345.\n\n{85a}  Tom Sawyer, Detective.\n\n{85b}  Phantasms of the Living, by Gurney and Myers.\n\n{85c}  The story is given by Mr. Mountford, one of the seers.\n\n{86}  Journal of Medical Science, April, 1880, p. 151.\n\n{88}  Catholic theology recognises, under the name of \"Bilocation,\"\nthe appearance of a person in one place when he is really in another.\n\n{91a}  Phantasms, ii., pp. 671-677.\n\n{91b}  Phantasms of the Living.\n\n{91c}  Mr. E. B. Tylor gives a Maori case in Primitive Culture.\nAnother is in Phantasms, ii., 557.  See also Polack's New Zealand for\nthe prevalence of the belief.\n\n{92}  Gurney, Phantasms, ii., 6.\n\n{93}  The late Surgeon-Major Armand Leslie, who was killed at the\nbattle of El Teb, communicated the following story to the Daily\nTelegraph in the autumn of 1881, attesting it with his signature.\n\n{95a}  This is a remarkably difficult story to believe.  \"The morning\nbright and calm\" is lit by the rays of the moon.  The woman (a Mrs.\nGamp) must have rushed past Dr. Leslie.  A man who died in Greece or\nRussia \"that morning\" would hardly be arrayed in evening dress for\nburial before 4 a.m.  The custom of using goloshes as \"hell-shoes\"\n(fastened on the Icelandic dead in the Sagas) needs confirmation.  Men\nare seldom buried in eye-glasses--never in tall white hats.--Phantasms\nof the Living, ii., 252.\n\n{95b}  From a memorandum, made by General Birch Reynardson, of an oral\ncommunication made to him by Sir John Sherbrooke, one of the two\nseers.\n\n{101}  This is an old, but good story.  The Rev. Thomas Tilson,\nminister (non-conforming) of Aylesford, in Kent, sent it on 6th July,\n1691, to Baxter for his Certainty of the World of Spirits.  The woman\nMary Goffe died on 4th June, 1691.  Mr. Tilson's informants were her\nfather, speaking on the day after her burial; the nurse, with two\ncorroborative neighbours, on 2nd July; the mother of Mary Goffe; the\nminister who attended her, and one woman who sat up with her--all\n\"sober intelligent persons\".  Not many stories have such good evidence\nin their favour.\n\n{103}  Phantasms, ii., 528.\n\n{111}  \"That which was published in May, 1683, concerning the Daemon,\nor Daemons of Spraiton was the extract of a letter from T. C.,\nEsquire, a near neighbour to the place; and though it needed little\nconfirmation further than the credit that the learning and quality of\nthat gentleman had stampt upon it, yet was much of it likewise known\nto and related by the Reverend Minister of Barnstaple, of the vicinity\nto Spraiton.  Having likewise since had fresh testimonials of the\nveracity of that relation, and it being at first designed to fill this\nplace, I have thought it not amiss (for the strangeness of it) to\nprint it here a second time, exactly as I had transcribed it then.\"--\nBOVET.\n\n{118}  Shchapoff case of \"The Dancing Devil\" and \"The Great Amherst\nMystery\".\n\n{121}  Additional MSS., British Museum, 27,402, f. 132.\n\n{122} Really 1628, unless, indeed, the long-continued appearances\nbegan in the year before Buckingham's death; old style.\n\n{127}  It may fairly be argued, granting the ghost, his advice and his\nknowledge of a secret known to the countess, that he was a\nhallucination unconsciously wired on to old Towse by the mind of the\nanxious countess herself!\n\n{129a}  Hamilton's Memoirs.\n\n{129b}  Mrs. Thrale's Diary, 28th November, 1779.\n\n{129c}  Diary of Lady Mary Coke, 30th November, 1779.\n\n{130a}  See Phantasms, ii., 586.\n\n{130b}  The difficulty of knowing whether one is awake or asleep, just\nabout the moment of entering or leaving sleep is notorious.  The\nauthor, on awaking in a perfectly dark room, has occasionally seen it\nin a dim light, and has even been aware, or seemed to be aware, of the\npattern of the wall paper.  In a few moments this effect of light\ndisappears, and all is darkness.  This is the confused mental state\ntechnically styled \"Borderland,\" a haunt of ghosts, who are really\nflitting dreams.\n\n{131}  Life of Lockhart.\n\n{132}  The author has given authorities in Blackwood's Magazine March,\n1895.  A Mr. Coulton (not Croker as erroneously stated) published in\nthe Quarterly Review, No. 179, an article to prove that Lyttelton\ncommitted suicide, and was Junius.  See also the author's Life of\nLockhart.\n\n{140}  A prominent name among the witnesses at the trial.\n\n{141}  The report of the trial in the Scots Magazine of June, 1754\n(magazines appeared at the end of the month), adds nothing of\ninterest.  The trial lasted from 7 a.m. of June 11 till 6 a.m. of June\n14.  The jury deliberated for two hours before arriving at a verdict.\n\n{142}  Sydney, no date.\n\n{144}  Phantasms, ii., 586, quoting (apparently) the Buckingham\nGazette of the period.\n\n{145a}  Oddly enough a Mr. William Soutar, of Blairgowrie, tells a\nghost story of his own to the S.P.R.!\n\n{145b}  I put them for convenience at the foot.--W. L. L.\n\n{146a}  The dogs in all these towns (farms) of Mause are very well\naccustomed with hunting the fox.\n\n{146b}  Blair (Blairgowrie) is the kirk-town of that parish, where\nthere is also a weekly market:  it lies about a mile below Middle\nMause on the same side of the river.\n\n{146c}  Knockhead is within less than half a mile of Middle Mause, and\nthe Hilltown lies betwixt the two.  We see both of them from our\nwindow of Craighall House.\n\n{148a}  This George Soutar died about two or three years ago, and was\nvery well known to William.\n\n{148b}  The Isle is a spot of ground in the wood of Rychalzie, about a\nmile above Middle Mause, on the same side of the river.\n\n{149a}  Glasclune is a gentleman of the name of Blair, whose house\nlies about three-quarters of a mile south-west from Middle Mause.\n\n{149b}  He said the voice answered him as if it had been some distance\nwithout the door.\n\n{150}  Besides the length of time since the murder was committed,\nthere is another reason why all the bones were not found, viz., that\nthere is a little burn or brook which had run for the space of twenty\nyears, at least, across upon the place when the bones were found, and\nwould have carried them all away had it not been that the bush, at the\nside of which they were buried, had turned the force of the stream a\nlittle from off that place where they lay, for they were not more than\na foot, or at most a foot and a half, under ground, and it is only\nwithin these three years that a water-spate has altered the course of\nthe burn.\n\n{151}  The course of the river (the Ericht) is from north to south.\nMiddle Mause lies on the west side of it, and Craighall on the east.\n\n{155a}  With reference to the last statement in Mr. Newton's notes see\nthe Journal of Sir Walter Scott (edit., 1891, p. 210) under date 13th\nJune, 1826.\n\n{155b}  L'Homme Posthume.\n\n{155c}  Denny's Folklore of China.\n\n{156}  Story received in a letter from Lieutenant --- of H.M.S gunboat ---.\n\n{157}  He fought at Culloden, of course for King George, and was\nappealed to for protection by old Glengarry.\n\n{158a}  Fox's hole.\n\n{158b}  How did Inverawe get leave to wear the Highland dress?\n\n{160}  In every version of the story that I have heard or read\nTiconderoga is called St. Louis, and Inverawe was ignorant of its\nother name.  Yet in all the histories of the war that I have seen, the\nonly name given to the place is Ticonderoga.  There is no mention of\nits having a French name.  Even if Inverawe knew the fort they were to\nstorm was called Ticonderoga, he cannot have known it when the ghost\nappeared to him in Scotland.  At that time there was not even a fort\nat Ticonderoga, as the French only erected it in 1756.  Inverawe had\ntold his story to friends in Scotland before the war broke out in\nAmerica, so even if in 1758 he did know the real name of the fort that\nthe expedition was directed against, I don't see that it lessens the\ninterest of the story.--E. A. C.\n\nThe French really called the place Fort Carillon, which disguised the\nnative name Ticonderoga.  See Memoirs of the Chevalier Johnstone.--A.\nL.\n\n{162}  Abercromby's force consisted of the 27th, 42nd, 44th, 46th,\n55th, and battalions of the 60th Royal Americans, with about 9000\nProvincials and a train of artillery.  The assault, however, took\nplace before the guns could come up, matters having been hastened by\nthe information that M. de Levy was approaching with 3000 French\ntroops to relieve Ticonderoga garrison.\n\n{177a}  I know one inveterate ghost produced in an ancient Scottish\nhouse by these appliances.--A. L.\n\n{177b}  Such events are common enough in old tales of haunted houses.\n\n{177c}  This lady was well known to my friends and to Dr. Ferrier.  I\nalso have had the honour to make her acquaintance.\n\n{179}  Apparently on Thursday morning really.\n\n{182}  She gave, not for publication, the other real names, here\naltered to pseudonyms.\n\n{186}  Phantasms, ii., 202.\n\n{188a}  Maspero, Etudes Egyptiennes, i., fascic. 2.\n\n{188b}  Examples cited in Classical Review, December, 1896, pp. 411,\n413.\n\n{188c}  Proceedings, S.P.R., vol. xii., p. 45-116.\n\n{189}  See \"Lord St. Vincent's Story\".\n\n{190}  Anecdote received from the lady.\n\n{191}  Story at second-hand.\n\n{192}  See The Standard for summer, 1896.\n\n{196}  I have once seen this happen, and it is a curious thing to see,\nwhen on the other side of the door there is nobody.\n\n{198a}  S.P.R., iii., 115, and from oral narrative of Mr. and Mrs.\nRokeby.  In 1885, when the account was published, Mr. Rokeby had not\nyet seen the lady in grey.  Nothing of interest is known about the\nprevious tenants of the house.\n\n{198b}  Proceedings, S.P.R., vol. viii., p. 311.\n\n{199}  Letter of 31st January, 1884.\n\n{200}  Six separate signed accounts by other witnesses are given.\nThey add nothing more remarkable than what Miss Morton relates.  No\naccount was published till the haunting ceased, for fear of lowering\nthe letting value of Bognor House.\n\n{201}  Mr. A. H. Millar's Book of Glamis, Scottish History Society.\n\n{202}  This account is abridged from Mr. Walter Leaf's translation of\nAksakoff's Predvestniki Spiritizma, St. Petersburg, 1895.  Mr.\nAksakoff publishes contemporary letters, certificates from witnesses,\nand Mr. Akutin's hostile report.  It is based on the possibility of\nimitating the raps, the difficulty of locating them, and the fact that\nthe flying objects were never seen to start.  If Mrs. Shchapoff threw\nthem, they might, perhaps, have occasionally been seen to start.\nS.P.R., vol. xii., p. 298.  Precisely similar events occurred in\nRussian military quarters in 1853.  As a quantity of Government\nproperty was burned, official inquiries were held.  The reports are\npublished by Mr. Aksakoff.  The repeated verdict was that no suspicion\nattached to any subject of the Czar.\n\n{205}  The same freedom was taken, as has been said, with a lady of\nthe most irreproachable character, a friend of the author, in a\nhaunted house, of the usual sort, in Hammersmith, about 1876.\n\n{206}  Proceedings, S.P.R., vol. xii., p. 49.\n\n{212}  John Wesley, however, places Hetty as next in seniority to Mary\nor Molly.  We do not certainly know whether Hetty was a child, or a\ngrown-up girl, but, as she always sat up till her father went to bed,\nthe latter is the more probable opinion.  As Hetty has been accused of\ncausing the disturbances, her age is a matter of interest.  Girls of\ntwelve or thirteen are usually implicated in these affairs.  Hetty was\nprobably several years older.\n\n{220}  30th January, 1717.\n\n{221}  Glanvil's Sadducismus Triumphatus, 1726.  Preface to part ii.,\nMompesson's letters.\n\n{222}  Gentleman's Magazine, November, December, 1872.\n\n{223}  This happened, to a less degree, in the Wesley case, and is not\nuncommon in modern instances.  The inference seems to be that the\nnoises, like the sights occasionally seen, are hallucinatory, not\nreal.  Gentleman's Magazine, Dec., 1872, p. 666.\n\n{229}  S.P.R. Proceedings, vol. xii., p. 7.\n\n{232}  Demon Possession in China, p. 399.  By the Rev. John L. Nevius,\nD.D.  Forty years a missionary in China.  Revel, New York, 1894.\n\n{233a}  Translated from report of Hsu Chung-ki, Nevius, p. 61.\n\n{233b}  Nevius, pp. 403-406.\n\n{234}  Op. cit., p. 415.  There are other cases in Mr. Denny's\nFolklore of China.\n\n{239a}  The Great Amherst Mystery, by Walter Hubbell.  Brentano, New\nYork, 1882.  I obtained some additional evidence at first hand\npublished in Longman's Magazine.\n\n{239b}  The sources for this tale are two Gaelic accounts, one of\nwhich is printed in the Gael, vol. vi., p. 142, and the other in the\nGlenbard Collection of Gaelic Poetry, by the Rev. A. Maclean Sinclair,\np. 297 ff.  The former was communicated by Mr. D. C. Macpherson from\nlocal tradition; the latter was obtained from a tailor, a native of\nLochaber, who emigrated to Canada when about thirty years of age.\nWhen the story was taken down from his lips in 1885, he was over\neighty years old, and died only a few months later.\n\n{246}  John Arnason, in his Icelandic Folklore and Fairy Tales (vol.\ni., p. 309), gives the account of this as written by the Sheriff Hans\nWium in a letter to Bishop Haldorr Brynjolfsson in the autumn of 1750.\n\n{249}  Huld, part 3, p. 25, Keykjavik, 1893.\n\n{259}  As at Amherst!\n\n{272}  Written out from tradition on 24th May, 1852.  The name of the\nafflicted family is here represented by a pseudonym.\n\n{273}  From Eyrbyggja Saga, chaps, l.-lv.  Froda is the name of a farm\non the north side of Snaefell Ness, the great headland which divides\nthe west coast of Iceland.\n\n{292}  Fact.\n\n{299}  Cornhill Magazine, 1896.\n\n{300}  This story should come under the head of \"Common Deathbed\nWraiths,\" but, it is such an uncommon one!","title":"The Book of Dreams and Ghosts","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":81123}