{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_45362/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_45362","id":"gutenberg_45362","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/45362","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Archaeology & Anthropology","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Ghosts"],"text":"Note: Images of the original pages are available through\n      Internet Archive. See\n      https://archive.org/details/ghostworld00dyer\n\n\nTranscriber's note:\n\n      Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE GHOST WORLD\n\nby\n\nT. F. THISELTON DYER\n\nAuthor of 'Church Lore Gleanings' etc.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nLondon\nWard & Downey\n12 York Street Covent Garden\n1893\n\nAll rights reserved\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n  CHAPTER                                      PAGE\n       I. THE SOUL'S EXIT                         1\n      II. TEMPORARY EXIT OF SOUL                 17\n     III. THE NATURE OF THE SOUL                 24\n      IV. THE UNBURIED DEAD                      43\n       V. WHY GHOSTS WANDER                      50\n      VI. GHOSTS OF THE MURDERED                 64\n     VII. PHANTOM BIRDS                          85\n    VIII. ANIMAL GHOSTS                         102\n      IX. PHANTOM LIGHTS                        127\n       X. THE HEADLESS GHOST                    144\n      XI. PHANTOM BUTTERFLIES                   159\n     XII. RAISING GHOSTS                        163\n    XIII. GHOST LAYING                          179\n     XIV. GHOSTS OF THE DROWNED                 206\n      XV. GHOST SEERS                           214\n     XVI. GHOSTLY DEATH-WARNINGS                219\n    XVII. 'SECOND SIGHT'                        233\n   XVIII. COMPACTS BETWEEN THE LIVING AND DEAD  245\n     XIX. MINDERS' GHOSTS                       257\n      XX. THE BANSHEE                           278\n     XXI. SEE PHANTOMS                          284\n    XXII. PHANTOM DRESS                         303\n   XXIII. HAUNTED HOUSES                        310\n    XXIV. HAUNTED LOCALITIES                    335\n     XXV. CHECKS AND SPELLS AGAINST GHOSTS      354\n    XXVI. WRAITH-SEEING                         363\n   XXVII. GHOSTLY TIMES AND SEASONS             382\n  XXVIII. SPIRIT-HAUNTED TREES                  391\n    XXIX. GHOSTS AND HIDDEN TREASURES           397\n     XXX. PHANTOM MUSIC                         411\n    XXXI. PHANTOM SOUNDS                        426\n          INDEX                                 439\n\n\n\n\nTHE GHOST WORLD\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nTHE SOUL'S EXIT\n\n\nIn the Iliad,[1] after the spirit of Patroclus has visited Achilles\nin his dream, it is described as taking its departure, and entering\nthe ground like smoke. In long after years, and among widely scattered\ncommunities, we meet with the same imagery; and it is recorded how\nthe soul of Beowulf the Goth 'curled to the clouds,' imaging the\nsmoke which was curling up from his pyre. A similar description of\nthe soul's exit is mentioned in one of the works of the celebrated\nmystic, Jacob Boehme,[2] who observes: 'Seeing that man is so very\nearthly, therefore he hath none but earthly knowledge; except he be\nregenerated in the gate of the deep. He always supposeth that the\nsoul--at the deceasing of the body--goeth only out at the mouth, and he\nunderstandeth nothing concerning its deep essences above the elements.\nWhen he seeth a blue vapour go forth out of the mouth of a dying man,\nthen he supposeth that is the soul.' The same conception is still\nextensively believed throughout Europe, and the Russian peasant often\nsees ghostly smoke hovering above graves. The Kaffirs hold that at\ndeath man leaves after him a sort of smoke, 'very like the shadow which\nhis living body will always cast before it,'[3] reminding us of the\nhero in the Arabian romance of Yokdnan, who seeks the source of life\nand thought, and discovers in one of the cavities of the heart a bluish\nvapour--the living soul. Among rude races the original idea of the\nhuman soul seems to have been that of vaporous materiality, which, as\nDr. Tylor observes,[4] has held so large a place in modern philosophy,\nand in one shape or another crops up in ghost stories. The Basutos,\nspeaking of a dead man, say that his heart has gone out, and the Malays\naffirm that the soul of a dying man escapes through the nostrils.\n\nHogarth has represented the figure of Time breathing forth his last--a\npuff of breath proceeding from his mouth; and a correspondent of\n'Notes and Queries'[5] relates that, according to a popular belief, a\nconsiderable interval invariably elapses between the first semblance\nof death and what is considered to be the departure of the soul, about\nfive minutes after the time when death, to all outward appearances,\nhas taken place, 'the last breath' may be seen to issue with a vapour\n'or steam' out of the mouth of the departed. According to some foreign\ntribes, the soul was said to dwell mainly in the left eye; and in New\nZealand men always ate the left eye of a conquered enemy. At Tahiti,\nin the human sacrifices, the left eye of the victim was always offered\nto the chief presiding over the ceremony. It was further believed in\nNew Zealand that 'in eating the left eye they doubled their own soul by\nincorporating with it that of the conquered man. It was also thought\nby some people in the same archipelago that a spirit used to dwell in\nboth eyes.'[6]\n\nThe supposed escape of the soul from the mouth at death gave rise to\nthe idea that the vital principle might be transferred from one person\nto another; and, among the Seminoles of Florida, when a woman died in\nchildbirth, the infant was held over her face to receive her parting\nspirit. Algonquin women, desirous of becoming mothers, flocked to the\nbed of those about to die, in the hope that they might receive the\nlast breath as it passed from the body; and to this day the Tyrolese\npeasant still fancies a good man's soul to issue from his mouth at\ndeath like a little white cloud.[7] We may trace the same fancy in our\nown country, and it is related[8] that while a well-known Lancashire\nwitch lay dying, 'she must needs, before she could \"shuffle off this\nmortal coil,\" transfer her familiar spirit to some trusty successor.\nAn intimate acquaintance from a neighbouring township was sent for in\nall haste, and on her arrival was immediately closeted with her dying\nfriend. What passed between them has never fully transpired; but it is\nasserted that at the close of the interview the associate received the\nwitch's last breath into her mouth, and with it her familiar spirit.\nThe powers for good or evil were thus transferred to her companion.'\n\nIn order that the soul, as it quits the body, may not be checked in its\nonward course, it has long been customary to unfasten locks or bolts,\nand to open doors, so that the struggle between life and death may not\nbe prolonged--a superstition common in France, Germany, Spain, and\nEngland. A correspondent of 'Notes and Queries' tells how for a long\ntime he had visited a poor man who was dying, and was daily expecting\ndeath. Upon calling one morning to see his poor friend, his wife\ninformed him that she thought he would have died during the night, and\nhence she and her friends unfastened every lock in the house; for, as\nshe added, any bolt or lock fastened was supposed to cause uneasiness\nto, and hinder, the departure of the soul.[9] We find the same belief\namong the Chinese, who make a hole in the roof to let out the departing\nsoul; and the North American Indian, fancying the soul of a dying man\nto go out at the wigwam roof, would beat the sides with a stick to\ndrive it forth. Sir Walter Scott, in 'Guy Mannering,' describes this\nbelief as deep rooted among 'the superstitious eld of Scotland;' and at\nthe smuggler's death in the Kaim of Derncleugh, Meg Merrilies unbars\nthe door and lifts the latch, saying--\n\n    Open lock, end strife,\n    Come death, and pass life.\n\nA similar practice exists among the Esquimos, and one may often hear\na German peasant express his dislike to slam a door, lest he should\npinch a soul in it. It has been suggested that the unfastening of doors\nand locks at death may be explained by analogy and association. Thus,\naccording to a primitive belief, the soul, or the life, was thought to\nbe tied up,[10] so that the unloosing of any knot might help to get\nrid of it at death. The same superstition 'prevailed in Scotland as\nto marriage. Witches cast knots on a cord; and in a Perthshire parish\nboth parties, just before marriage, had every knot or tie about them\nloosened, though they immediately proceeded in private to tie them each\nup again.'[11] Another explanation suggests that the custom is founded\non the idea that, when a person died, the ministers of purgatorial\npains took the soul as it escaped from the body, and flattening it\nagainst some closed door--which alone would serve the purpose--crammed\nit into the hinges and hinge openings; thus the soul in torment was\nlikely to be miserably squeezed. By opening the doors, the friends\nof the departed were at least assured that they were not made the\nunconscious instruments of torturing the departed.[12]\n\nThere is a widespread notion among the poor that the spirit will linger\nin the body of a child a long time when the parent refuses to part with\nit, an old belief which, under a variety of forms, has existed from a\nprimitive period. In Denmark one must not weep over the dying, still\nless allow tears to fall on them, for it will hinder their resting in\nthe grave. In some parts of Holland, when a child is at the point of\ndeath, it is customary to shade it by the curtains from the parents'\ngaze, the soul, it is said, being detained in the body so long as\na compassionate eye is fixed upon it. A German piece of folk-lore\ninforms us that he who sheds tears when leaning over an expiring friend\nincreases the difficulty of death's last struggle. A correspondent\nof 'Notes and Queries' alluding to this superstition in the North of\nEngland writes: 'I said to Mrs. B----, \"Poor little H---- lingered a\nlong time; I thought when I saw him that he must have died the same\nday, but he lingered on!\" \"Yes,\" said Mrs. B----, \"it was a great shame\nof his mother. He wanted to die, and she would not let him die; she\ncouldn't part with him. There she stood fretting over him, and couldn't\ngive him up; and so we said to her, 'He'll never die till you give him\nup,' and then she gave him up, and he died quite peacefully.\"'[13]\n\nSimilarly, it is not good to weep for the dead, as it disturbs the\npeace and rest of the soul. In an old Danish ballad of Aage and Else, a\nlover's ghost says to his mistress:\n\n    Every time thou weepest, for each tear in that flood,\n    The coffin I am laid in is filled with much blood.\n\nOr, as another version has it:\n\n    Every time thou'rt joyful,\n      And in thy mind art glad,\n    Then is my grave within\n      Hung round with roses' leaves.\n\n    Every time thou grievest,\n      And in thy mind are sad,\n    Then is within my coffin\n      As if full of clotted blood.\n\nA German song tells us how a sister wept incessantly over her brother's\ngrave, but at last her tears became intolerable to the deceased,\nbecause he was detained on earth by her excessive weeping, and suffered\nthereby great torment. In a fit of desperation he cursed her, and in\nconsequence of his malediction, she was changed into a cuckoo, so that\nshe might always lament for herself.[14] Mannhardt relates a pretty\ntale of a young mother who wept incessantly over the loss of her\nonly child, and would not be comforted. Every night she went to the\nlittle grave and sobbed over it, till, on the evening preceding the\nEpiphany, she saw Bertha pass not far from her, followed by her troop\nof children. The last of these was one whose little shroud was all\nwet, and who seemed exhausted by the weight of a pitcher of water she\ncarried. It tried in vain to cross a fence over which Bertha and the\nrest had passed; but the fond mother, at once recognising her child,\nran and lifted it over. 'Oh, how warm are mother's arms!' said the\nlittle one; 'but don't cry so much, mother, for I must gather up every\ntear in my pitcher. You have made it too full and heavy already. See\nhow it has run over and wet all my shift.' The mother cried again, but\nsoon dried her tears.\n\nWe may compare a similar superstition among the natives of Alaska,\nwhen, if too many tears were shed by the relatives during the burial\nceremonies, it was thought that the road of the dead would be muddy,\nbut a few tears were supposed just to lay the dust.[15] The same idea\nis found in a Hindu dirge: 'The souls of the dead do not like to\ntaste the tears let fall by their kindred; weep not, therefore;' and,\naccording to the Edda, every tear falls as blood upon the ice-cold\nbosom of the dead. We may trace the belief in Ireland, and Sir Walter\nScott says[16] it was generally supposed throughout Scotland that 'the\nexcessive lamentation over the loss of friends disturbed the repose of\nthe dead, and broke even the rest of the grave.'\n\nThe presence of pigeon or game feathers is said to be another hindrance\nto the exit of the soul; and, occasionally, in order to facilitate its\ndeparture, the peasantry in many parts of England will lay a dying man\non the floor. A Sussex nurse once told the wife of a clergyman that\n'never did she see anyone die so hard as Master Short; and at last she\nthought--though his daughter said there were none--that there must be\ngame feathers in the bed. So she tried to pull it from under him, but\nhe was a heavy man, and she could not manage it alone, and there was\nnone with him but herself, and so she got a rope and tied it round him,\nand pulled him right off the bed, and he went off in a minute quite\ncomfortable, just like a lamb.'[17] In Lancashire, this belief is so\ndeep-rooted that some persons will not allow sick persons to lie on a\nfeather-bed; while in Yorkshire the same is said of cocks' feathers.\nShakespeare alludes to the practice where Timon says[18]--\n\n    Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads.\n\nAnd Grose remarks: 'It is impossible for a person to die whilst resting\non a pillow stuffed with the feathers of a dove, for he will struggle\nwith death in the most exquisite torture.' This is also a Hindu and\nMohammedan belief, and in India 'the dying are always taken from\ntheir beds and laid on the ground, it being held that no one can die\npeaceably except when laid on mother earth.'[19] In Russia, too, there\nis a strong feeling against the use of pigeon feathers in beds.\n\nThe summons for the soul to quit its earthly tenement has been thought\nto be announced, from early times, by certain strange sounds, a belief\nwhich Flatman has embodied in some pretty lines:\n\n    My soul, just now about to take her flight\n    Into the regions of eternal night,\n    Methinks I hear some gentle spirit say,\n    'Be not fearful, come away!'\n\nPope speaks in the same strain:\n\n    Hark! they whisper, angels say,\n    'Sister spirit, come away!'\n\nAnd in 'Troilus and Cressida' (iv. 4), the former says:\n\n    Hark! you are called; some say, the Genius so\n    Cries 'Come!' to him that instantly must die.\n\nAs in days gone by so also at the present time, there is, perhaps,\nno superstition more generally received than the belief in what are\npopularly known as 'death-warnings,'[20] reference to which we shall\nhave occasion to make in a later chapter.\n\nIt has been urged again, that at the hour of death the soul is, as it\nwere, on the confines of two worlds, and hence may possess a power\nwhich is both prospective and retrospective. In 'Richard II.' (ii. 1),\nthe dying Gaunt exclaims, alluding to his nephew, the young and\nself-willed king:\n\n    Methinks I am a prophet, new inspired,\n    And thus expiring do foretell of him.\n\nNerissa says of Portia's father in 'Merchant of Venice' (i. 2): 'Your\nfather was ever virtuous; and holy men at their death have good\ninspirations.' This idea may be traced up to the time of Homer,[21]\nand Aristotle tells us that the soul, when on the point of death,\nforetells things about to happen; the belief still lingering on in\nLancashire and other parts of England. According to another notion, it\nwas generally supposed that when a man was on his death-bed, the devil\nor his agents tried to seize his soul, if it should happen that he died\nwithout receiving the 'Eucharist,' or without confessing his sins. In\nthe old office books of the Church, these 'busy meddling fiends' are\noften represented with great anxiety besieging the dying man; but on\nthe approach of the priest and his attendants they are represented as\nbeing dismayed. Douce[22] quotes from a manuscript book of devotion, of\nthe time of Henry VI., the following prayer to St. George: 'Judge for\nme when the most hedyous and damnable dragons of helle shall be redy\nto take my poore soule and engloute it into theyr infernall belyes.'\nOne object, it has been urged, of the 'passing bell' was to drive away\nthe evil spirit that might be hovering about to seize the soul of the\ndeceased, such as the king speaks of in 2 Henry VI. (iii. 3):\n\n    O, beat away the busy meddling fiend,\n    That lays strong siege unto this wretch's soul,\n    And from his bosom purge this black despair.\n\nWe may find the same idea among the Northern Californians, who affirmed\nthat when the soul first escaped from the body an evil spirit hovered\nnear, ready to pounce upon it and carry it off.[23]\n\nIt is still a common belief with our seafaring community on the\neast coast of England, that the soul takes its departure during the\nfalling of the tide. Everyone remembers the famous scene in 'David\nCopperfield,' where Barkis's life 'goes out with the tide.' As Mr.\nPeggotty explained to David Copperfield by poor Barkis's bedside,\n'People can't die along the coast except when the tide's pretty nigh\nout. He's a-going out with the tide--he's a-going out with the tide.\nIt's ebb at half arter three, slack water half an hour. If he lives\ntill it turns he'll hold his own till past the flood, and go out with\nthe next tide.' In the parish register of Heslidon, near Hartlepool,\nthe subjoined extract of old date alludes to the state of the tide\nat the time of death: 'The xith daye of Maye, A.D. 1595, at vi of\nye clocke in the morninge, being full water, Mr. Henrye Mitford, of\nHoolam, died at Newcastel, and was buried the xvi daie, being Sondaie.\nAt evening prayer, the hired preacher made ye sermon.' Mrs. Quickly\nin 'Henry V.' (ii. 3) speaking of Falstaff's death says: ''A made a\nfiner end and went away an it had been any christom child; 'a parted\neven just between twelve and one, even at the turning o' the tide.' In\nBrittany, death claims its victim at ebb of the tide, and along the\nNew England coast it is said a sick man cannot die until the ebb-tide\nbegins to run. It has been suggested that there may be some slight\nfoundation for this belief in the change of temperature which takes\nplace on the change of tide, and which may act on the flickering spark\nof life, extinguishing it as the ebbing sea recedes.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1] xxiii. 100; Keary's _Outlines of Primitive Belief_, p. 284.\n\n[2] _The Three Principles_, chap. xix. 'Of the Going Forth of the Soul.'\n\n[3] Letourneau's _Sociology_, p. 252.\n\n[4] _Primitive Culture_, 1873, i. p. 457.\n\n[5] 1st S. ii. p. 51.\n\n[6] Letourneau's _Sociology_, p. 257.\n\n[7] Tylor's _Primitive Culture_, i. p. 433; Brinton's _Myths of the New\nWorld_, p. 253.\n\n[8] Harland and Wilkinson's _Lancashire Folk-lore_, 1867, p. 210.\n\n[9] 1st S. i. p. 315.\n\n[10] Cf. 'Nexosque resolveret artus,' Virgil on the death of Dido.\n\u00c6neid iv. 695.\n\n[11] See Dalyell's _Darker Superstitions of Scotland_, p. 302, and\n_Notes and Queries_, 1st S. iv. p. 350.\n\n[12] _Ibid._ i. p. 467.\n\n[13] 1st S. iii. p. 84.\n\n[14] Kelly's _Indo-European Folk-lore_, pp. 127-128.\n\n[15] Dorman's _Primitive Superstitions_, p. 43.\n\n[16] In a note to _Redgauntlet_, Letter xi.\n\n[17] _Folk-lore Record_, i. pp. 59-60.\n\n[18] _Timon of Athens_, iv. 3.\n\n[19] Henderson's _Folk-lore of Northern Counties_, pp. 60-61.\n\n[20] See Tylor's _Primitive Culture_, i. p. 145.\n\n[21] _Iliad_, ii. 852.\n\n[22] _Illustrations of Shakspeare_, 1839, pp. 324-326.\n\n[23] Dorman's _Primitive Superstitions_, p. 40.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nTEMPORARY EXIT OF SOUL\n\n\nMany of the conceptions of the human soul formed by savage races arose\nfrom the phenomena of everyday life. According to one of the most\npopular dream theories prevalent among the lower races, the sleeper's\nsoul takes its exit during the hours of slumber, entering into a\nthousand pursuits. Now, as it is well known by experience 'that men's\nbodies do not go on these excursions, the explanation is that every\nman's living self, a soul, is his phantom or image, which can go out of\nhis body and see, and be seen itself, in dreams.'[24] In the opinion\nof the savage, therefore, dreams have always afforded a convincing\nproof of the soul's separate existence, and Dr. Tylor considers that\n'nothing but dreams and visions could ever have put into men's minds\nsuch an idea as that of souls being ethereal images of bodies.'\n\nThus the Dayaks of Borneo believe that in the hours of sleep the soul\ntravels far away, and the Fijians think that the spirit of a living\nman during sleep can leave the body and trouble some one else. But Mr.\nE. im Thurn, in his 'Indians of Guiana' (344-346), gives some very\nstriking instances of this strange phase of superstitious belief:\n'One morning, when it was important to me to get away from a camp\non the Essequibo River, at which I had been detained for some days\nby the illness of some of my Indian companions, I found that one of\nthe invalids, a young Macusi Indian, though better in health, was so\nenraged against me that he refused to stir, for he declared that,\nwith great want of consideration for his weak health, I had taken him\nout during the night, and had made him haul the canoe up a series of\ndifficult cataracts. Nothing could persuade him that this was but a\ndream, and it was some time before he was so far pacified as to throw\nhimself sulkily into the bottom of the canoe. At that time we were all\nsuffering from a great scarcity of food, and, hunger having its usual\neffect in producing vivid dreams, similar events frequently occurred.\nMore than once the men declared in the morning that some absent men\nwhom they named had come during the night, and had beaten, or otherwise\nmaltreated them; and they insisted on much rubbing of the bruised parts\nof their bodies.'[25]\n\nAnother evidence in savage culture of the soul's having its own\nindividuality, independently of the body, is the fact that a person\nthrough some accident may suddenly fall into a swoon, remaining to\nall outward appearance dead. When such a one, however, revives and is\nrestored to consciousness, the savage is wont to exclaim that he died\nfor a time until his soul was induced to return.\n\nHence Mr. Williams informs us[26] how the Fijians believe, when anyone\ndies or faints, that the soul may sometimes be brought back by calling\nafter it; and in China, when a child is at the point of death, the\nmother will go into the garden and call its name, thinking thereby to\nbring back the wandering spirit. On this account divination and sorcery\nare extensively employed, and certain 'wise men' profess to have a\nknowledge of the mystic art of invoking souls that for some reason or\nother may have deserted their earthly tenement.[27]\n\nThe Rev. W. W. Gill, in his 'Myths and Songs from the South Pacific'\n(171-172), gives a curious instance of the wandering of the soul during\nlife. 'At Uea, one of the Loyalty Islands, it was the custom formerly,\nwhen a person was very ill, to send for a man whose employment it was\nto restore souls to forsaken bodies. The soul doctor would at once\ncollect his friends and assistants, to the number of twenty men, and\nas many women, and start off to the place where the family of the sick\nman was accustomed to bury their dead. Upon arriving there, the soul\ndoctor and his male companions commenced playing the nasal flutes with\nwhich they had come provided, in order to entice back the spirit to\nits old tenement. The women assisted by a low whistling, supposed to\nbe irresistibly attractive to exile spirits. After a time the entire\nprocession proceeded towards the dwelling of a sick person, flutes\nplaying and the women whistling all the time, leading back the truant\nspirit. To prevent its possible escape, with their palms open, they\nseemingly drove it along with gentle violence and coaxing. On entering\nthe dwelling of the patient, the vagrant spirit was ordered in loud\ntones at once to enter the body of the sick man.'\n\nIn the same way, too, according to a popular superstition among rude\ntribes, some favoured persons are supposed to have the faculty of\nsending forth their own souls on distant journeys, and of acquiring, by\nthis means, information for their fellow creatures. Thus the Australian\ndoctor undergoes his initiation by such a journey, and those who are\nnot equally gifted by nature subject themselves to various ordeals,\nso as to possess the supposed faculty of releasing their souls for a\ntime from the body. From this curious phase of superstition have arisen\na host of legendary stories, survivals of which are not confined to\nuncivilised communities, but are found among the folk-tales of most\ncountries. Mr. Baring Gould,[28] for instance, quotes a Scandinavian\nstory in which the Norse Chief Ingimund shut up three Finns in a hut\nfor three nights so that their souls might make an expedition to\nIceland, and bring back information of the nature of the country where\nhe was eventually to settle. Accordingly their bodies soon became\nrigid, they dismissed their souls on the errand, and on awakening after\nthree days, they gave Ingimund an elaborate description of the country\nin question. We may compare this phase of belief with that which is\ncommonly known in this country as second sight.[29]\n\nAmong the Hervey Islanders, Mr. Gill says: 'The philosophy of sneezing\nis that the spirit having gone travelling about--perchance on a visit\nto the homes or burying-places of its ancestors--its return to the body\nis naturally attended with some difficulty and excitement, occasionally\na tingling and enlivening sensation all over the body. Hence the\nvarious customary remarks addressed to the returned spirit in different\nislands. At Rarotonga, when a person sneezes, the bystanders exclaim,\nas though addressing a spirit, \"Ha! you have come back.\"'\n\nThen there is the widespread Animistic belief, in accordance with which\neach man has several souls;--some lower races treating the breath,\nthe dream ghost, and other appearances as being separate souls. This\nnotion seems to have originated in the pulsation of the heart and\narteries, which rude tribes regard as indications of independent life.\nThus this fancy is met with in various parts of America and exists\nalso in Madagascar. It prevails in Greenland, and the Fijians affirm\nthat each man has two souls. This belief, too, is very old, evidences\nof its existence being clearly traceable among the ancient Greeks and\nRomans.[30] Indeed, classic literature affords ample proof of how\nthe beliefs of modern savages are in many cases survivals of similar\nnotions held in olden times by nations that had made considerable\nprogress in civilisation.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[24] Tylor's _Anthropology_, 1881, p. 343.\n\n[25] See further instances in Tylor's _Primitive Culture_, i. pp. 440,\n441.\n\n[26] _Fiji and the Fijians_, i. p. 242.\n\n[27] See Sir John Lubbock's _Origin of Civilisation and the Primitive\nCondition of Man_, 1870, p. 141.\n\n[28] _Werewolves_, p. 29.\n\n[29] See Chapter on Second Sight.\n\n[30] See Tylor's _Anthropology_, p. 345; and Sir John Lubbock's _Origin\nof Civilisation and the Primitive Condition of Man_, p. 141; and H.\nSpencer's _Principles of Sociology_, 1885, i. p. 777.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nTHE NATURE OF THE SOUL\n\n\nIt has from time immemorial been a widely recognised belief among\nmankind that the soul after death bears the likeness of its fleshly\nbody, although opinions have differed largely as to its precise nature.\nBut it would seem to be generally admitted that the soul set free from\nits earthly tenement is at once recognised by anyone to whom it may\nappear, reminding us of Lord Tennyson's dictum in 'In Memoriam':\n\n    Eternal form shall still divide\n    The eternal soul from all beside;\n      And I shall know him when we meet.\n\nDespite the fact that the disembodied spirit has been supposed to\nretain its familiar likeness, we find all kinds of strange ideas\nexisting in most parts of the world as to what sort of a thing it\nreally is when its condition of existence is so completely changed.\nThus, according to a conception which has received in most ages very\nextensive credence, the soul has substantiality. This was the Greek\nidea of ghosts, and 'it is only,' writes Bishop Thirwall, 'after their\nstrength has been repaired by the blood of a slaughtered victim, that\nthey recover reason and memory for a time, can recognise their living\nfriends, and feel anxiety for those they have left on earth.' A similar\nnotion of substantiality prevailed among the Hebrews, and, as Herbert\nSpencer points out, 'the stories about ghosts accepted among ourselves\nin past times involved the same thought. The ability to open doors,\nto clank chains, and make other noises implies considerable coherence\nof the ghost's substance.'[31] That this conception of the soul was\nnot only received but taught, may be gathered from Tertullian, who\nsays: 'The soul is material, composed of a substance different to the\nbody, and particular. It has all the qualities of matter, but it is\nimmortal. It has a figure like the body. It is born at the same time as\nthe flesh, and receives an individuality of character which it never\nloses.' He further describes[32] a vision or revelation of a certain\nMontanist prophetess, of the soul seen by her corporeally, thin and\nlucid, aerial in colour, and human in form. It is recorded, too, as\nan opinion of Epicurus, that 'they who say the soul is incorporeal\ntalk folly, for it could neither do nor suffer anything were it such.'\nIt was the idea of materiality that caused the superstitious folk in\nyears gone by to attribute to ghosts all kinds of weird and eccentric\nacts which could not otherwise be explained. And yet it has always\nbeen a puzzle in Animistic philosophy, how a ghost could be possessed\nat one moment of a corporeal body, and immediately afterwards vanish\ninto immateriality, escaping sight and touch. But this strange ghost\nphenomenon is clearly depicted in sacred history, where we find\nsubstantiality, now insubstantiality, and now something between the\ntwo, described. Thus, as Herbert Spencer remarks,[33] 'the resuscitated\nChrist was described as having wounds that admitted of tactual\nexamination, and yet as passing unimpeded through a closed door or\nthrough walls.' And, as he adds, the supernatural beings of the Hebrews\ngenerally, 'whether revived dead or not, were similarly conceived:\nhere, angels dining with Abraham, or pulling Lot into the house,\napparently possess complete corporeity; there, both angels and demons\nare spoken of as swarming invisibly in the surrounding air, thus being\nincorporeal; while elsewhere they are said to have wings, implying\nmotion by mechanical action, and are represented as rubbing against,\nand wearing out, the dresses of Rabbis in the Synagogue.' All kinds\nof strange theories have been suggested by perplexed metaphysicians\nto account for this duplex nature of the disembodied soul; Calmet\nhaving maintained that 'immaterial souls have their own vaporous\nbodies, or occasionally have such vaporous bodies provided for them by\nsupernatural means to enable them to appear as spectres, or that they\npossess the power of condensing the circumambient air into phantom-like\nbodies to invest themselves in.'[34]\n\nIn Fiji the soul is regarded quite as a material object, subject\nto the same laws as the living body, and having to struggle hard to\ngain the paradisaical Bolotu. Some idea, too, of the hardships it has\nto undergo in its material state may be gathered from the following\npassage in Dr. Letourneau's 'Sociology' (p. 251): 'After death the soul\nof the Fijian goes first of all to the eastern extremity of _Vanna\nLevou_, and during this voyage it is most important that it should hold\nin its hand the soul of the tooth of a spermaceti whale, for this tooth\nought to grow into a tree, and the soul of the poor human creature\nclimbs up to the top of this tree. When it is perched up there it is\nobliged to await the arrival of the souls of his wives, who have been\nreligiously strangled to serve as escort to their master. Unless all\nthese and many other precautions are taken, the soul of the deceased\nFijian remains mournfully seated upon the fatal bough until the arrival\nof the good Ravuyalo, who kills him once and for all, and leaves him\nwithout means of escape.'\n\nAccording to another popular and widely accepted doctrine, the soul\nwas supposed to be composed of a peculiar subtle substance, a kind\nof vaporous materiality. The Choctaws have their ghosts or wandering\nspirits which can speak and are visible, but not tangible.[35] The\nTongans conceived it as the aeriform part of the body, related to it as\nthe perfume and essence of a flower; and the Greenlanders speak of it\nas pale and soft, without flesh and bone, so that he who tries to grasp\nit feels nothing he can take hold of. The Siamese describe the soul as\nconsisting of some strange matter, invisible and untouchable. While Dr.\nTylor quotes a curious passage from Hampole,[36] in which the soul,\nowing to the thinness of its substance, suffers all the more intense\nsuffering in purgatory:\n\n    The soul is more tendre and nesche (soft)\n    Than the bodi that hath bones and fleysche;\n    Thanne the soul that is so tendere of kinde,\n    Mote nedis hure penaunce hardere y-finde,\n    Than eni bodi that evere on live was.\n\nThen there is the idea of the soul as a shadow, a form of superstition\nwhich has given rise to many quaint beliefs among uncultured tribes.\nThe Basutos, when walking by a river, take care not to let their\nshadow fall on the water, lest a crocodile seize it, and draw the\nowner in. The Zulu affirms that at death the shadow of a man in some\nmysterious way leaves the body, and hence, it is said, a corpse cannot\ncast a shadow. Certain African tribes consider that 'as he dies, man\nleaves a shadow behind him, but only for a short time. The shade, or\nthe mind, of the deceased remains, they think, close to the grave where\nthe corpse has been buried. This shadow is generally evil-minded, and\nthey often fly away from it in changing their place of abode.'[37] The\nOjibways tell how one of their chiefs died,[38] but while they were\nwatching the body on the third night, his shadow came back into it. He\nsat up, and told them how he had travelled to the River of Death, but\nwas stopped there, and sent back to his people.\n\nSpeaking of the human shadow in relation to foundation sacrifices, we\nare reminded[39] how, according to many ancient Roumenian legends,\n'every new church or otherwise important building became a human\ngrave, as it was thought indispensable to its stability to wall in a\nliving man or woman, whose spirit henceforward haunts the place. In\nlater times this custom underwent some modifications, and it became\nusual, in place of a living man, to wall in his shadow. This is done\nby measuring the shadow of a person with a long piece of cord, or a\nribbon made of strips of reed, and interring this measure instead of\nthe person himself, who, unconscious victim of the spell thrown upon\nhim, will pine away and die within forty days. It is an indispensable\ncondition to the success of this proceeding that the chosen victim be\nignorant of the part he is playing, therefore careless passers by near\na building may often hear the cry, warning, \"Beware, lest they take\nthy shadow!\" So deeply engrained is this superstition, that not long\nago there were professional shadow-traders, who made it their business\nto provide architects with the necessary victims for securing their\nwalls.' 'Of course, the man whose shadow is thus interred must die,'\nargues the Roumenian, 'but as he is unaware of his doom, he does not\nfeel any pain or anxiety, and so it is less cruel than walling in a\nliving man.'\n\nAt the present day in Russia, as elsewhere, a shadow is a common\nmetaphor for the soul,[40] whence it arises that there are persons\nthere who object to having their silhouettes taken, fearing that if\nthey do, they will die before the year is out. In the same way, a man's\nreflected image is supposed to be in communion with his inner self,\nand, therefore, children are often forbidden to look at themselves in a\nglass, lest their sleep should be disturbed at night. It may be added,\ntoo, as Mr. Clodd points out, that in the barbaric belief of the loss\nof the shadow being baleful, 'we have the germ of the medi\u00e6val legends\nof shadowless men, and of tales of which Chamisso's \"Story of Peter\nSchlemihl\" is a type.'[41] Hence the dead in purgatory recognised that\nDante was alive when they saw that, unlike theirs, his figure cast a\nshadow on the ground. But, as Mr. Fiske observes,[42] 'the theory which\nidentifies the soul with the shadow, and supposes the shadow to depart\nwith the sickness and death of the body, would seem liable to be\nattended with some difficulties in the way of verification, even to the\ndim intelligence of the savage.'\n\nAgain, another doctrine promulgated under various forms in Animistic\nphilosophy is, that the existence and condition of the soul depend upon\nthe manner of death. The Australian, for instance, not content with\nslaying his enemy, cuts off the right thumb of the corpse, so that the\ndeparted soul may be incapacitated from throwing a spear; and even the\nhalf-civilised Chinese prefer the punishment of crucifixion to that of\ndecapitation, that their souls may not wander headless about the spirit\nworld. Similarly the Indians of Brazil 'believe that the dead arrive\nin the other world wounded or hacked to pieces, in fact, just as they\nleft this.' European folk-lore has preserved, more or less, the same\nidea, and the ghost of the murdered person often appears displaying\nthe wounds which were the cause of the death of the body. Many a\nweird and ghastly ghost tale still current in different parts of the\ncountry gives the most blood-curdling details of such apparitions; and\nalthough, in certain cases, a century or so is said to have elapsed\nsince they first made their appearance, they still bear the marks of\nviolence and cruelty which were done to them by a murderous hand when\nin the flesh. An old story tells how, when the Earl of Cornwall met the\nfetch of William Rufus carried on a very large black goat, all black\nand naked, across the Bodmin moors, he saw that it was wounded through\nthe breast. Robert adjured the goat, in the name of the Holy Trinity,\nto tell what it was he carried so strangely. He answered, 'I am\ncarrying your king to judgment; yea, that tyrant, William Rufus, for I\nam an evil spirit, and the revenger of his malice which he bore to the\nChurch of God. It was I that did cause this slaughter.' Having spoken,\nthe spectre vanished. Soon afterwards Robert heard that at that very\nhour the king had been slain in the New Forest by the arrow of William\nTirell.[43] This idea corresponds with what was believed in early\ntimes, for Ovid[44] tells us how\n\n    Umbra cruenta Remi visa est assistere lecto.\n\nAgain, some modes of death are supposed to kill not only the body but\nalso the soul. 'Among all primitive peoples,' writes Mr. Dorman,[45]\n'where a belief in the renewal of life, or the resurrection, exists,\nthe peace and happiness of the spirit, which remains in or about the\nbody, depend upon success in preventing the body, or any part of it,\nfrom being devoured or destroyed in any manner.' The New Zealanders\nbelieved that the man who was eaten was annihilated, both body and\nsoul; and one day a bushman, who was a magician, having put to death\na woman, dashed the head of the corpse to pieces with large stones,\nburied her, and made a large fire over the grave, for fear, as he\nexplained, lest she should rise again and trouble him. The same idea,\nremarks Sir John Lubbock,[46] evidently influenced the Californian, who\ndid not dispute the immortality of the whites, who buried their dead,\nbut could not believe the same of his own people, because they were in\nthe habit of burning them, maintaining that when they were burnt they\nbecame annihilated.\n\nIt may be added, too, that the belief underlying the burial customs\nof most American tribes was to preserve the bones of the dead, the\nopinion being that the soul, or a part of it, dwelt in the bones.\nThese, indeed, were the seeds which, planted in the earth, or preserved\nunbroken in safe places, would in time put on once again a garb of\nflesh, and germinate into living human beings.[47] This Animistic\nbelief has been amply illustrated by mythology and superstition. In\nan Aztec legend, after one of the destructions of the world, Zoloti\ndescended to the realm of the dead, and brought thence a bone of\nthe perished race. This, sprinkled with blood, grew on the fourth\nday into a youth, the father of the present race. The practice of\npulverising the bones of the dead, practised by some tribes, and of\nmixing them with the food, was defended by asserting that the souls\nof the dead remained in the bones, and lived again in the living.[48]\nThe Peruvians were so careful lest any of the body should be lost,\nthat they preserved even the parings of the nails and clippings of\nthe hair--expecting the mummified body to be inhabited by its soul;\nwhile the Choctaws maintain that the spirits of the dead will return\nto the bones in the bone mounds, and flesh will knit together their\nloose joints. Even the lower animals were supposed to follow the same\nlaw. 'Hardly any of the American hunting-tribes,' writes Mr. Brinton,\n'before their original manners were vitiated by foreign influence,\npermitted the bones of game slain in the chase to be broken, or left\ncarelessly about the encampment; they were collected in heaps, or\nthrown into the water.' The Yuricares of Bolivia carried this belief\nto such an inconvenient extent that they carefully put by even small\nfish bones, saying that unless this was done the fish and game would\ndisappear from the country. The traveller on the western prairies\noften notices the buffalo skulls, countless numbers of which bleach on\nthose vast plains, arranged in circles and symmetrical piles by the\ncareful hands of the native hunters. The explanation for this practice\nis that these osseous relics of the dead 'contain the spirits of the\nslain animals, and that some time in the future they will rise from the\nearth, re-clothe themselves with flesh, and stock the prairies anew.'\n\nAs a curious illustration of how every spiritual conception was\nmaterialised in olden times, may be quoted the fanciful conception\nof the weight of the soul. Thus in medi\u00e6val literature the angel in\nthe Last Judgment 'was constantly represented weighing the souls in\na literal balance, while devils clinging to the scales endeavoured\nto disturb the equilibrium.'[49] But how seriously such tests of the\nweight of the soul have been received, may be gathered from the cases\nnow and then forthcoming of this materialistic notion of its nature.\nThese, writes Dr. Tylor,[50] range from the 'conception of a Basuto\ndiviner that the late queen had been bestriding his shoulders, and\nhe never felt such a weight in his wife, to Glanvil's story of David\nHunter, the neatherd, who lifted up the old woman's ghost, and she felt\njust like a bag of feathers in his arms; or the pathetic superstition\nthat the dead mother's coming back in the night to suckle the baby she\nhas left on earth, may be known by the hollow pressed down in the bed\nwhere she lay, and at last down to the alleged modern spiritualistic\nreckoning of the weight of a human soul at from three to four ounces.'\nBut the heavy tread which occasionally makes the stairs creak and\nboards resound has been instanced as showing that, whatever may be\nthe real nature of the soul, it is capable of materialising itself at\ncertain times, and of displaying an amount of force and energy in no\nway dissimilar to that which is possessed when living in the flesh.\n\nJust, too, as souls are possessed of visible forms, so they are\ngenerally supposed to have voices. According to Dr. Tylor,[51] 'men\nwho perceive evidently that souls do talk when they present themselves\nin dream or vision, naturally take for granted at once the objective\nreality of the ghostly voice, and of the ghostly form from which it\nproceeds;' and this principle, he adds, 'is involved in the series of\nnarratives of spiritual communications with living men, from savagery\nonward to civilisation.' European folk-lore represents ghostly voices\nas resembling their material form during life, although less audible.\nWith savage races the spirit voice is described 'as a low murmur,\nchirp, or whistle.' Thus, when the ghosts of the New Zealanders\naddress the living, they speak in whistling tones. The sorcerer among\nthe Zulus 'hears the spirits who speak by whistlings speaking to\nhim.' Whistling is the language of the Caledonians, and the Algonquin\nIndians of North America 'could hear the shadow souls of the dead\nchirp like crickets.' As far back as the time of Homer, the ghosts\nmake a similar sound, 'and even as bats flit gibbering in the secret\nplace of a wonderful cavern, even so the souls gibbered as they fared\ntogether.'[52]\n\nGhosts, when they make their appearance, are generally supposed, as\nalready noticed, to have a perfect resemblance, in every respect, to\nthe deceased person. Their faces appear the same--except that they are\nusually paler than when alive--and the ordinary expression is described\nby writers on the subject as 'more in sorrow than in anger.' Thus, when\nthe ghost of Banquo rises and takes a seat at the table, Macbeth says\nto the apparition--\n\n            Never shake\n    Thy gory locks at me.\n\nAnd Horatio tells Marcellus how the ghost of Hamlet's father was not\nonly fully armed, but--\n\n    So frown'd he once, when in angry parle,\n    He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice.\n\nThe folk-lore stories from most parts of the world coincide in this\nidea. It was recorded of the Indians of Brazil by one of the early\nEuropean visitors that 'they believe that the dead arrive in the\nother world, wounded or hacked to pieces, in fact, just as they left\nthis;'[53] a statement which reminds us of a ghost described by Mrs.\nCrowe,[54] who, on appearing after death, was seen to have the very\nsmall-pox marks which had disfigured its countenance when in the flesh.\n\nAs in life, so in death, it would seem that there are different classes\nof ghosts--the princely, the aristocratic, the genteel, and the\ncommon. The vulgar class, it is said, delight to haunt 'in graveyards,\ndreary lanes, ruins, and all sorts of dirty dark holes and corners.'\nAn amusing anecdote illustrative of this belief was related by the\ndaughter of 'the celebrated Mrs. S.' [Siddons?] who told Mrs. Crowe\nthat when her parents were travelling in Wales they stayed some days\nat Oswestry, and lodged in a house which was in a very dirty and\nneglected state, yet all night long the noise of scrubbing and moving\nfurniture made it impossible to sleep. The servants did little or no\nwork, for they had to sit up with their mistress to allay her fears.\nThe neighbours said that this person had killed an old servant, hence\nthe disturbance and her terror. Mr. and Mrs. S---- coming in suddenly\none day, heard her cry out, 'Are you there again? Fiend! go away!' But\nnumerous tales similar to the above are still current in different\nparts of the country; and from time to time are duly chronicled in the\nlocal press.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[31] _Principles of Sociology_, 1885, i. p. 174.\n\n[32] _De Anima_, p. 9; see Tylor's _Primitive Culture_, i. p. 456.\n\n[33] _Principles of Sociology_, 1885, i. p. 174.\n\n[34] See Tylor's _Primitive Culture_, i. p. 457.\n\n[35] Dorman's _Primitive Superstitions_, p. 20.\n\n[36] Tylor's _Primitive Culture_, i. p. 456.\n\n[37] Letourneau's _Sociology_, p. 253.\n\n[38] See Tylor's _Anthropology_, 1881, p. 344.\n\n[39] _Nineteenth Century_, July 1885, pp. 143-144, 'Transylvanian\nSuperstitions,' by Madame Emily de Laszowska Gerard.\n\n[40] Ralston's _Songs of the Russian People_, p. 117.\n\n[41] _Myths and Dreams_, 1885, p. 184.\n\n[42] _Myths and Myth-makers_, 1873, p. 225.\n\n[43] See Hunt's _Popular Romances of the West of England_, p. 373.\n\n[44] _Fasti_, v. 457.\n\n[45] _Primitive Superstitions_, p. 195.\n\n[46] _The Origin of Civilisation, and the Primitive Condition of Man_,\n1870, p. 140; see Letourneau's _Sociology_, p. 263.\n\n[47] Brinton's _Myths of the New World_, 1868, p. 257.\n\n[48] Dorman's _Primitive Superstitions_, 1881, p. 193.\n\n[49] See Lecky's _Rationalism in Europe_, 1870, i. p. 340; cf. Maury's\n_L\u00e9gendes Pieuses_, p. 124.\n\n[50] _Primitive Culture_, i. p. 455.\n\n[51] See Andrew Lang's _Myth, Ritual, Religion_, i. p. 108.\n\n[52] _Odyssey_, xxiv.\n\n[53] Tylor's _Primitive Culture_, i. p. 451.\n\n[54] _Night Side of Nature._\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nTHE UNBURIED DEAD\n\n\nThe Greeks believed that such as had not received funeral rites would\nbe excluded from Elysium. The younger Pliny tells the tale of a haunted\nhouse at Athens, in which a ghost played all kinds of pranks owing to\nthe funeral rites having been neglected. It is still a deep-rooted\nbelief that when the mortal remains of the soul have not been honoured\nwith proper burial, it will walk. The ghosts of unburied persons not\npossessing the _obolus_ or fee due to Charon, the ferryman of Styx, and\nAcheron, were unable to obtain a lodging or place of rest. Hence they\nwere compelled to wander about the banks of the river for a hundred\nyears, when the portitor, or 'ferryman of hell,' passed them over _in\nform\u00e2 pauperis_. The famous tragedy of 'Antigone' by Sophocles owes\nmuch of its interest to this popular belief on the subject. In most\ncountries all kinds of strange tales are told of ghosts ceaselessly\nwandering about the earth, owing to their bodies, for some reason or\nanother, having been left unburied.\n\nThere is a well known German ghost, the Bleeding Nun. This was a nun\nwho, after committing many crimes and debaucheries, was assassinated\nby one of her paramours and denied the rites of burial. After this,\nshe used to haunt the castle where she was murdered, with her bleeding\nwounds. On one occasion, a young lady of the castle, willing to elope\nwith her lover, in order to make her flight easier, personated the\nbleeding nun. Unfortunately the lover, whilst expecting his lady under\nthis disguise, eloped with the spectre herself, who presented herself\nto him and haunted him afterwards.[55]\n\nComparative folk-lore, too, shows how very widely diffused is this\nnotion. It is believed by the Iroquois of North America, that unless\nthe rites of burial are performed, the spirits of the dead hover for a\ntime upon the earth in great unhappiness. On this account every care\nis taken to procure the bodies of those slain in battle. Certain\nBrazilian tribes suppose that the spirits of the dead have no rest\ntill burial, and among the Ottawas, a great famine was thought to have\nbeen produced on account of the failure of some of their tribesmen to\nperform the proper burial rites. After having repaired their fault they\nwere blessed with abundance of provisions. The Australians went so far\nas to say that the spirits of the unburied dead became dangerous and\nmalignant demons. Similarly, the Siamese dread, as likely to do them\nsome harm, the ghosts of those who have not been buried with proper\nrites, and the Karens have much the same notion. According to the\nPolynesians, the spirit of a dead man could not reach the sojourn of\nhis ancestors, and of the gods, unless the sacred funereal rites were\nperformed over his body. If he was buried with no ceremony, or simply\nthrown into the sea, the spirit always remained in the body.[56]\n\nUnder one form or another, the same belief may be traced in most parts\nof the world, and, as Dr. Tylor points out,[57] 'in medi\u00e6val Europe\nthe classic stories of ghosts that haunt the living till laid by\nrites of burial pass here and there into new legends where, under a\nchanged dispensation, the doleful wanderer now asks Christian burial in\nconsecrated earth.' Shakespeare alludes to this old idea, and in 'Titus\nAndronicus' (i. 2) Lucius, speaking of the unburied sons of Titus, says:\n\n    Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths,\n    That we may hew his limbs, and on a pile\n    _Ad manes fratrum_ sacrifice his flesh,\n    Before this earthly prison of their bones;\n    That so the shadows be not unappeas'd,\n    Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth.\n\nHence the appearance of a spirit, in times past, was often regarded\nas an indication that some foul deed had been done, on which account\nHoratio in 'Hamlet' (i. 1) says to the ghost:\n\n    If there be any good thing to be done\n    That may to thee do ease, and grace to me,\n    Speak to me.\n\nIn the narrative of the sufferings of Byron and the crew of H.M. ship\n'Wager,' on the coast of South America, we find a good illustration\nof the superstitious dread attaching to an unburied corpse. 'The\nreader will remember the shameful rioting, mutiny, and recklessness\nwhich disgraced the crew of the \"Wager,\" nor will he forget the\napproach to cannibalism and murder on one occasion. These men had\njust returned from a tempestuous navigation, in which their hopes\nof escape had been crushed, and now what thoughts disturbed their\nrest--what serious consultations were they which engaged the attention\nof these sea-beaten men? Long before Cheap's Bay had been left, the\nbody of a man had been found on a hill named \"Mount Misery.\" He was\nsupposed to have been murdered by some of the first gang who left the\nisland. The body had never been buried, and to such neglect did the\nmen now ascribe the storms which had lately afflicted them; nor would\nthey rest until the remains of their comrade were placed beneath the\nearth, when each evidently felt as if some dreadful spell had been\nremoved from his spirit.' Stories of this kind are common everywhere,\nand are interesting as showing how widely scattered is this piece of\nsuperstition.\n\nIn Sweden the ravens, which scream by midnight in forest swamps and\nwild moors, are held to be the ghosts of murdered men, whose bodies\nhave been hidden in those spots by their undetected murderers, and\nnot had Christian burial.[58] In many a Danish legend the spirit of\na strand varsler, or coast-guard, appears, walking his beat as when\nalive. Such ghosts were not always friendly, and it was formerly\nconsidered dangerous to pass along 'such unconsecrated beaches,\nbelieved to be haunted by the spectres of unburied corpses of drowned\npeople.'[59]\n\nThe reason, it is asserted, why many of our old castles and country\nseats have their traditional ghost, is owing to some unfortunate\nperson having been secretly murdered in days past, and to his or her\nbody having been allowed to remain without the rites of burial. So\nlong as such a crime is unavenged, and the bones continue unburied,\nit is impossible, we are told, for the outraged spirit to keep quiet.\nNumerous ghost stories are still circulated throughout the country of\nspirits wandering on this account, some of which, however, are based\npurely on legendary romance.\n\nBut when the unburied body could not be found, and the ghost wandered,\nthe missing man was buried in effigy, for, as it has been observed,\n'according to all the laws of primitive logic, an effigy is every\nbit as good as its original. Therefore, when a dead man is buried in\neffigy, with all due formality, that man is dead and buried beyond a\ndoubt, and his ghost is as harmless as it is in the nature of ghosts to\nbe.' But sometimes such burial by proxy was premature, for the man was\nnot really dead; and if he declined to consider himself as such, the\nquestion arose, was he alive, or was he dead? The solution adopted was\nthat he might be born again and take a new lease of life. 'And so it\nwas, he was put out to nurse, he was dressed in long clothes--in short,\nhe went through all the stages of a second childhood. But before this\npleasing experience could take place, he had to overcome the initial\ndifficulty of entering his own house, for the door was ghost-proof.\nThere was no other way but by the chimney, and down the chimney he\ncame.' We may laugh at such credulity, but many of the ghost-beliefs of\nthe present day are not less absurd.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[55] Yardley's _Supernatural in Fiction_, p. 93.\n\n[56] Letourneau's _Sociology_, p. 257.\n\n[57] _Primitive Culture_, ii. p. 29; Douce's _Illustrations of\nShakespeare_, pp. 450, 451.\n\n[58] Henderson's _Folk-lore of Northern Counties_, p. 126, note.\n\n[59] Thorpe's _Northern Mythology_, ii. p. 166.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nWHY GHOSTS WANDER\n\n\nA variety of causes have been supposed to prevent the dead resting in\nthe grave, for persons 'dying with something on their mind,' to use\nthe popular phrase, cannot enjoy the peace of the grave; oftentimes\nsome trivial anxiety, or some frustrated communication, preventing the\nuneasy spirit flinging off the bonds that bind it to earth. Wickedness\nin their lifetime has been commonly thought to cause the souls of the\nimpenitent to revisit the scenes where their evil deeds were done. It\nhas long been a widespread idea that as such ghosts are too bad for\na place in either world, they are, therefore, compelled to wander on\nthe face of the earth homeless and forlorn. We have shown in another\nchapter how, according to a well-known superstition, the _ignes fatui_,\nwhich appear by night in swampy places, are the souls of the dead--men\nwho during life were guilty of fraudulent and other wicked acts. Thus a\npopular belief reminds us[60] how, when an unjust relative has secreted\nthe title-deeds in order to get possession of the estate himself,\nhe finds no rest in the other world till the title-deeds are given\nback, and the estate is restored to the rightful heir. Come must the\nspirit of such an unrighteous man to the room where he concealed the\ntitle-deeds surreptitiously removed from the custody of the person to\nwhose charge they were entrusted. 'A dishonest milkwoman at Shrewsbury\nis condemned,' writes Miss Jackson in her 'Shropshire Folk-lore'[61]\n(p. 120), 'to wander up and down \"Lady Studley's Diche\" in the Raven\nMeadow--now the Smithfield--constantly repeating:\n\n   \"Weight and measure sold I never,\n    Milk and water sold I ever.\"'\n\nThe same rhyme is current at Burslem, in the Staffordshire Potteries.\nThe story goes that 'Old Molly Lee,' who used to sell milk there, and\nhad the reputation of being a witch, was supposed to be seen after her\ndeath going about the streets with her milk-pail on her head repeating\nit. Miss Jackson further relates how a mid-Shropshire squire of long\nago was compelled to wander about in a homeless state on account of\nhis wickedness. Murderers cannot rest, and even although they may\nescape justice in this life, it is supposed that their souls find no\npeace in the grave, but under a curse are compelled to walk to and\nfro until they have, in some degree, done expiation for their crimes.\nOccasionally, it is said, their plaintive moans may be heard as they\nbewail the harm done by them to the innocent, weary of being allowed no\ncessation from their ceaseless wandering--a belief which reminds us of\nthe legend of the Wandering Jew, and the many similar stories that have\nclustered round it.\n\nIn 'Blackwood's Magazine' for August 1818 this passage occurs: 'If any\nauthor were so mad as to think of framing a tragedy upon the subject\nof that worthy vicar of Warblington, Hants, who was reported about a\ncentury ago to have strangled his own children, and to have walked\nafter his death, he would assuredly be laughed to scorn by a London\naudience.' But a late rector of Warblington informed a correspondent\nof 'Notes and Queries' (4th S. xi. 188), 'it was quite true that\nhis house was said to be haunted by the ghost of a former rector,\nsupposed to be the Rev. Sebastian Pitfield, who held the living in\n1677.' A strong prejudice against hanging prevails in Wales, owing\nto troublesome spirits being let loose, and wandering about, to the\nannoyance of the living.\n\nThe spirits of suicides wander, and hence cross-roads in various parts\nof the country are oftentimes avoided after dark, on account of being\nhaunted by headless and other uncanny apparitions. The same belief\nexists abroad. The Sioux are of opinion that suicide is punished in the\nland of spirits by the ghosts being doomed for ever to drag the tree\non which they hang themselves; and for this reason they always suspend\nthemselves to as small a tree as can possibly sustain their weight.\n\nWith the Chinese the souls of suicides are specially obnoxious, and\nthey consider that the very worst penalty that can befall a soul is the\nsight of its former surroundings. Thus, it is supposed that, in the\ncase of the wicked man, 'they only see their homes as if they were near\nthem; they see their last wishes disregarded, everything upside down,\ntheir substance squandered, strangers possess the old estate; in their\nmisery the dead man's family curse him, his children become corrupt,\nland is gone, the wife sees her husband tortured, the husband sees his\nwife stricken down with mortal disease; even friends forget, but some,\nperhaps, for the sake of bygone times, may stroke the coffin and let\nfall a tear, departing with a cold smile.'[62] But, as already noticed,\nthe same idea, in a measure, extends to the West, for in this country\nit has long been a popular belief that the ghosts of the wicked are\nforced to periodically rehearse their sinful acts. Thus, the murderer's\nghost is seen in vain trying to wash out the indelible blood-stains,\nand the thief is supposed to be continually counting and recounting\nthe money which came into his possession through dishonest means. The\nghost is dogged and confronted with the hideousness of his iniquities,\nand the young woman who slew her lover in a fit of jealous passion is\nseen, in an agonised expression, holding the fatal weapon. But such\nunhappy spirits have, in most cases, been put to silence by being laid,\ninstances of which are given elsewhere; and in other cases they have\nfinally disappeared with the demolition of certain houses which for\nyears they may have tenanted.\n\nOn the other hand, the spirits of the good are said sometimes to return\nto earth for the purpose of either succouring the innocent, or avenging\nthe guilty.\n\n'Those who come again to punish their friends' wrongs,' writes\nMiss Jackson, in her 'Shropshire Folk-lore' (p. 119), 'generally\nappear exactly as in life, unchanged in form or character. A certain\nwell-to-do man who lived in the west of Shropshire within living\nmemory, left his landed property to his nephew, and a considerable\nfortune to his two illegitimate daughters, the children of his\nhousekeeper. Their mother, well provided for, was at his death turned\nadrift by the nephew. Her daughters, however, continued to live in\ntheir old home with their cousin. A maid-servant who entered the family\nshortly after (and who is our informant) noticed an elderly man often\nwalking in the garden in broad daylight, dressed in old-fashioned\nclothes, with breeches and white stockings. He never spoke, and never\nentered the house, though he always went towards it. Asking who he was,\nshe was coolly told, \"Oh, that is only our old father!\" No annoyance\nseems to have been caused by the poor old ghost, with one exception,\nthat the clothes were every night stripped off the bed of the two\nunnatural daughters.'\n\nGerman folk-lore tells how slain warriors rise again to help their\ncomrades to victory, and how a mother will visit her old home to look\nafter her injured and forsaken children, and elsewhere the same idea\nis extensively believed. In China, the ghosts which are animated by\na sense of duty are frequently seen: at one time they seek to serve\nvirtue in distress, and at another they aim to restore wrongfully-held\ntreasure. Indeed, as it has been observed, 'one of the most powerful\nas well as the most widely diffused of the people's ghost stories is\nthat which treats of the persecuted child whose mother comes out of the\ngrave to succour him.'[63] And there perhaps can be no more gracious\nprivilege allotted to immortal spirits than that of beholding those\nbeloved of them in mortal life:\n\n                          I am still near,\n    Watching the smiles I prized on earth,\n    Your converse mild, your blameless mirth.[64]\n\nAs it has been observed, no oblivious draught has been given the\ndeparted soul, but the remembrance of its earthly doings cleaves to it,\nand this is why ghosts are always glad to see the places frequented by\nthem while on earth. In Galicia, directly after a man's burial, his\nspirit takes to wandering by nights about the old home, and watching\nthat no evil befalls his heirs.[65]\n\nOccasionally the spirit returns to fulfil a promise as in compacts,\nto which reference is made in another chapter. The reappearance of a\nlover, 'in whose absence his beloved has died, is a subject that has\nbeen made use of by the folk-poets of every country, and nothing,' it\nis added, 'can be more characteristic of the nationalities to which\nthey belong than the divergences which mark their treatment of it.'[66]\nAnother cause of ghosts wandering is founded upon a superstition as to\nthe interchange of love-tokens, an illustration of which we find in\nthe old ballad of 'William's Ghost':\n\n    There came a ghost to Marjorie's door,\n      Wi' many a grievous maen,\n    And aye he tirl'd at the pin,\n      But answer made she nane.\n\n    'Oh, sweet Marjorie! oh, dear Marjorie!\n      For faith and charitie,\n    Give me my faith and troth again,\n      That I gied once to thee.'\n\n    'Thy faith and troth I'll ne'er gie thee,\n      Nor yet shall our true love twin,\n    Till you tak' me to your ain ha' house,\n      And wed me wi' a ring.'\n\n    'My house is but yon lonesome grave,\n      Afar out o'er yon lee,\n    And it is but my spirit, Marjorie,\n      That's speaking unto thee.'[67]\n\nShe followed the spirit to the grave, where it lay down and confessed\nthat William had betrayed three maidens whom he had promised to marry,\nand in consequence of this misdemeanour he could not rest in his grave\nuntil she released him of his vows to marry her. On learning this,\nMarjorie at once released him.\n\n    Then she'd taen up her white, white hand,\n      And struck him on the breist,\n    Saying, 'Have ye again your faith and troth,\n      And I wish your soul good rest.'\n\nIn another ballad, 'Clerk Sanders,' there is a further illustration\nof the same belief. The instances, says Mr. Napier, differ, but 'the\nprobability is that the ballad quoted above and \"Clerk Sanders\" are\nboth founded on the same story. Clerk Sanders was the son of an earl,\nwho courted the king's daughter, Lady Margaret. They loved each other\neven in the modern sense of loving too well. Margaret had seven\nbrothers, who suspected an intrigue, and they came upon them together\nin bed and killed Clerk Sanders, whose ghost soon after came to\nMargaret's window. The ballad, which contains much curious folk-lore,\nruns thus:[68]\n\n    'Oh! are ye sleeping, Margaret?' he says,\n      'Or are ye waking presentlie?\n    Give me my faith and troth again,\n      I wot, true love, I gied to thee.\n\n    'I canna rest, Margaret,' he says,\n      'Down in the grave where I must be,\n    Till ye give me my faith and troth again,\n      I wot, true love, I gied to thee.'\n\n    'Thy faith and troth thou shalt na get,\n      And our true love shall never twin,\n    Until ye tell what comes o' women,\n      I wot, who die in strong travailing.\n\n    'Their beds are made in the heavens high,\n      Down at the foot of our Lord's knee,\n    Weel set about wi' gilliflowers,\n      I trow sweet company for to see.\n\n    'Oh, cocks are crowing a merry midnight,\n      I wot the wild fowls are boding day;\n    The psalms of heaven will soon be sung,\n      And I, ere now, will be missed away.'\n\n    Then she has ta'en a crystall wand,\n      And she has stroken her throth thereon;\n    She has given it him out of the shot-window,\n      Wi' many a sigh and heavy goan.\n\n    'I thank ye, Margaret; I thank ye, Margaret;\n      And aye, I thank ye heartilie;\n    Gin ever the dead come for the quick,\n      Be sure, Margaret, I'll come for thee.'\n\n    Then up and crew the milk-white cock,\n      And up and crew the gray;\n    Her lover vanished in the air,\n      And she gaed weeping away.\n\nMadness, again, during life, is said occasionally to produce\nrestlessness after death. 'Parson Digger, at Condover,' remarked an old\nwoman to Miss Jackson,[69] 'he came again. He wasn't right in his head,\nand if you met him he couldn't speak to you sensibly. But when he was\nup in the pulpit he'd preach, oh! beautiful!' In Hungary, there are\nthe spirits of brides who die on their wedding-day before consummation\nof marriage. They are to be seen at moonlight, where cross-roads meet.\nAnd it is a Danish tradition that a corpse cannot have peace in the\ngrave when it is otherwise than on its back. According to a Scotch\nbelief, excessive grief for a departed friend, 'combined with a want of\nresignation to the will of Providence, had the effect of keeping the\nspirit from rest in the other world. Rest could be obtained only by the\nspirit coming back, and comforting the mourner by the assurance that it\nwas in a state of blessedness.'[70] The ghosts of those, again, who had\nsome grievance or other in life are supposed to wander. The Droitwich\nCanal, in passing through Salwarpe, Worcestershire, is said to have\ncut off a slice of a large old half-timbered house, in revenge for\nwhich act of mutilation, the ghost of a former occupier revisited his\nold haunts, and affrighted the domestics.\n\nOnce more, according to another Animistic conception which holds a\nprominent place in the religion of uncultured tribes, the soul at death\npasses through some transitionary stages, finally developing into\na demon. In China and India this theory is deeply rooted among the\npeople, and hence it is customary to offer sacrifices to the souls of\nthe departed by way of propitiation, as otherwise they are supposed to\nwander to and fro on the earth, and to exert a malignant influence on\neven their dearest friends and relatives. Diseases, too, are regarded\nas often being caused by the wandering souls of discontented relatives,\nwho in some cases are said to re-appear as venomous snakes.[71] Owing\nto this belief, a system of terror prevails amongst many tribes, which\nis only allayed by constantly appeasing departed souls. Believing\nin superstitions of this kind, it is easy to understand how the\nuncivilised mind readily lays hold of the doctrine that the souls of\nthe departed, angry and enraged at having had death thrust on them,\ntake every opportunity of wandering about, and annoying the living,\nand of wreaking their vengeance on even those most nearly related to\nthem. In this phase of savage belief may be traced the notion of Manes\nworship found under so many forms in foreign countries. Indeed, once\ngranted that the departed soul has power to affect the living, then\nthis power attributed to it is only one of degree. With this belief,\ntoo, may be compared the modern one of worship of the dead; and as Dr.\nTylor remarks: 'A crowd of saints, who were once men and women, now\nform an inferior order of deities active in the affairs of men, and\nreceiving from them reverence and prayer, thus coming strictly under\nthe definition of Manes.'[72] A further illustration may be adduced in\nthe patron deities of particular trades and crafts, and in the imposing\narray of saints supposed to be specially interested in the particular\nrequirements of mankind.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[60] See Gregor's _Folk-lore of North-East of Scotland_, p. 68.\n\n[61] Edited by C. S. Burne.\n\n[62] Countess Evelyn Martinengo-Cesaresco, 1886, _Essays in the Study\nof Folk-songs_, p. 8.\n\n[63] _Study of Folk-songs_, p. 2.\n\n[64] _Study of Folk-songs_, p. 8.\n\n[65] Ralston's _Songs of the Russian People_, p. 121.\n\n[66] _Study of Folk-songs_, p. 21.\n\n[67] _Folk-lore Record_, 1879, iii. pp. 111, 112,\n\n[68] _Folk-lore Record_, 1879, iii. pp. 111, 112.\n\n[69] _Shropshire Folk-lore_, p. 119.\n\n[70] Gregor's _Folk-lore of North-East of Scotland_, p. 69.\n\n[71] Sir John Lubbock's _Origin of Civilisation_, p. 134.\n\n[72] _Primitive Culture_, ii. p. 120.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nGHOSTS OF THE MURDERED\n\n\nIt is commonly supposed that the spirits of those who have suffered\na violent or untimely death are baneful and malicious beings; for,\nas Meiners conjectures in his 'History of Religions,' they were\ndriven unwillingly from their bodies, and have carried into their new\nexistence an angry longing for revenge. Hence, in most countries,\nthere is a dread of such harmful spirits; and, among the Sioux Indians\nthe fear of the ghost's vengeance has been known to act as a check to\nmurder. The avenging ghost often comes back to convict the guilty, and\nappears in all kinds of strange and uncanny ways. Thus the ghost of\nHamlet's father (i. 5) says:\n\n    I am thy father's spirit,\n    Doomed for a certain time to walk the night,\n    And for the day confined to fast in fires,\n    Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature,\n    Are burnt and purged away.\n\nTill the crime has been duly expiated, not only is the spirit supposed\nto be kept from its desired rest, but it flits about the haunts of the\nliving, that, by its unearthly molestation, it may compel them to make\nevery possible reparation for the cruel wrong done. Any attempt to\nlay such a ghost is ineffectual, and no exorcist's art can induce it\nto discontinue its unwelcome visits. Comparative folk-lore proves how\nuniversal is this belief, for one of the most popular ghost stories\nin folk-tales is that which treats of the murdered person whose ghost\nhovers about the earth with no gratification but to terrify the living.\n\nThe Chinese have a dread of the wandering spirits of persons who\nhave come to an unfortunate end. At Canton, in 1817, the wife of an\nofficer of Government had occasioned the death of two female domestic\nslaves, from some jealous suspicion it was supposed of her husband's\nconduct towards the girls; and, in order to screen herself from the\nconsequences, she suspended the bodies by the neck, with a view to its\nbeing construed into an act of suicide. But the conscience of the woman\ntormented her to such a degree that she became insane, and at times\npersonated the victims of her cruelty; or, as the Chinese supposed, the\nspirits of the murdered girls possessed her, and utilised her mouth to\ndeclare her own guilt. In her ravings she tore her clothes, and beat\nher own person with all the fury of madness; after which she would\nrecover her senses for a time, when it was supposed the demons quitted\nher, but only to return with greater frenzy, which took place a short\ntime previous to her death.[73] According to Mr. Dennys,[74] the most\ncommon form of Chinese ghost story is that wherein the ghost seeks to\nbring to justice the murderer who shuffled off its mortal coil.\n\nThe following tale is told of a haunted hill in the country of the\nAssiniboins. Many summers ago a party of Assiniboins pounced on a\nsmall band of Crees in the neighbourhood of Wolverine Knoll. Among the\nvictors was the former wife of one of the vanquished, who had been\npreviously captured by her present husband. This woman directed every\neffort in the fight to take the life of her first husband, but he\nescaped, and concealed himself on this knoll. Wolverine--for this was\nhis name--fell asleep, and was discovered by this virago, who killed\nhim, and presented his scalp to her Assiniboin husband. The knoll was\nafterwards called after him. The Indians assert that the ghosts of\nthe murderess and her victim are often to be seen from a considerable\ndistance struggling together on the very summit of the height.[75]\n\nThe Siamese 'fear as unkindly spirits the souls of such as died a\nviolent death, or were not buried with the proper rites, and who,\ndesiring expiation, invisibly terrify their descendants.'[76] In the\nsame way, the Karens say that the ghosts of those who wander on the\nearth are the spirits of such as died by violence; and in Australia we\nhear of the souls of departed natives walking about because their death\nhas not been expiated by the avenger of blood.\n\nThe Hurons of America, lest the spirits of the victims of their torture\nshould remain around the huts of their murderers from a thirst of\nvengeance, strike every place with a staff in order to oblige them to\ndepart. An old traveller mentions the same custom among the Iroquois:\n'At night we heard a great noise, as if the houses had all fallen; but\nit was only the inhabitants driving away the ghosts of the murdered;'\nwith which we may compare the belief of the Ottawas: On one occasion,\nwhen noises of the loudest and most inharmonious kind were heard in\na certain village, it was ascertained that a battle had been lately\nfought between the Ottawas and Kickapoos, and that the object of all\nthis noise was to prevent the ghosts of the dead combatants from\nentering the village.[77]\n\nEuropean folk-lore still clings to this old belief, and, according\nto the current opinion in Norway,[78] the soul of a murdered person\nwillingly hovers around the spot where his body is buried, and makes\nits appearance for the purpose of calling forth vengeance on the\nmurderer.\n\nThe idea that, in cases of hidden murder, the buried dead cannot rest\nin their graves is often spoken in our old ballad folk-lore. Thus, in\nthe ballad of the 'Jew's Daughter,' in Motherwell's collection, a youth\nwas murdered, and his body thrown into a draw-well, and he speaks to\nhis mother from the well:\n\n    She ran away to the deep draw-well,\n      And she fell down on her knee,\n    Saying, 'Bonnie Sir Hugh, oh, pretty Sir Hugh,\n      I pray ye, speak to me!'\n    'Oh! the lead it is wondrous heavy, mother,\n      The well, it is wondrous deep,\n    The little penknife sticks in my throat,\n      And I downa to ye speak.\n    But lift me out of this deep draw-well,\n      And bury me in yon churchyard;\n    Put a Bible at my head,' he says,\n      'And a Testament at my feet,\n    And pen and ink at every side,\n      And I will lay still and sleep.\n    And go to the back of Maitland town,\n      Bring me my winding sheet;\n    For it's at the back of Maitland town\n      That you and I shall meet.'\n\nThe eye of superstition, we are told, sees such ghosts sometimes as\nwhite spectres in the churchyard, where they stop horses, terrify\npeople, and make a disturbance; and occasionally as executed criminals,\nwho, in the moonlight, wander round the place of execution, with their\nheads under their arms. At times they are said to pinch persons while\nasleep both black and blue, such spots being designated ghost-spots, or\nghost-pinches. It is also supposed in some parts of Norway that certain\nspirits cry like children, and entice people to them, such being\nthought to derive their origin from murdered infants. A similar belief\nexists in Sweden, where the spirits of little children that have been\nmurdered are said to wander about wailing, within an assigned time, so\nlong as their lives would have lasted on earth, had they been allowed\nto live. As a terror for unnatural mothers who destroy their offspring,\ntheir sad cry is said to be 'Mama! Mama!' If travellers at night pass\nby them, they will hang on the vehicle, when the most spirited horses\nwill sweat as if they were dragging too heavy a load, and at length\ncome to a dead stop. The peasant then knows that a ghost or pysling has\nattached itself to his vehicle.[79]\n\nThe nautical ghost is often a malevolent spirit, as in Shelley's\n'Revolt of Islam'; and Captain Marryat tells a sailor story of a\nmurdered man's ghost appearing every night, and calling hands to\nwitness a piratical scene of murder, formerly committed on board\nthe ship in which he appeared. A celebrated ghost is that of the\n'Shrieking Woman,' long supposed to haunt the shores of Oakum Bay,\nnear Marblehead. She was a Spanish lady murdered by pirates in the\neighteenth century, and the apparition is thus described by Whittier in\nhis 'Legends of New England':\n\n    'Tis said that often when the moon,\n      Is struggling with the gloomy even,\n    And over moon and star is drawn\n      The curtain of a clouded heaven,\n    Strange sounds swell up the narrow glen,\n      As if that robber crew was there;\n    The hellish laugh, the shouts of men\n      And woman's dying prayer.\n\nMany West Indian quays were thought to be the haunts of ghosts\nof murdered men; and Sir Walter Scott tells how the Buccaneers\noccasionally killed a Spaniard or a slave, and buried him with their\nspirits, under the impression that his ghost would haunt the spot, and\nkeep away treasure hunters. He quotes another incident of a captain\nwho killed a man in a fit of anger, and, on his threatening to haunt\nhim, he cooked his body in the stove kettle. The crew believed that\nthe murdered man took his place at the wheel, and on the yards. The\ncaptain, troubled by his conscience and the man's ghost, finally jumped\noverboard, when, as he sank, he threw up his arms and exclaimed, 'Bill\nis with me now!'\n\nIn most parts of the world similar tales are recorded, and are as\nreadily believed as when they were first told centuries ago. A certain\nisland on the Japanese coast is traditionally haunted by the ghosts\nof Japanese slain in a naval battle. Even 'to-day the Chousen peasant\nfancies he sees the ghostly armies baling out the sea with bottomless\ndippers, condemned thus to cleanse the ocean of the slain of centuries\nago.'[80] According to an old Chinese legend the ghost of a captain of\na man-of-war junk, who had been murdered, reappeared and directed how\nthe ship was to be steered to avoid a nest of pirates.[81]\n\nIn this country, many an old mansion has its haunted room, in which\nthe unhappy spirit of the murdered person is supposed, on certain\noccasions, to appear. Generation after generation do such troubled\nspirits return to the scene of their life, and persistently wait\ntill some one is bold enough to stay in the haunted room, and to\nquestion them as to the cause of their making such periodical visits.\nAccordingly, when a murder has been committed and not discovered,\noften, it is said, has the spirit of the murdered one continued to\ncome back and torment the neighbourhood till a confession of the crime\nhas been made, and justice satisfied. Mr. Walter Gregor,[82] detailing\ninstances in Scotland of haunted houses, tells how 'in one room a lady\nhad been murdered, and her body buried in a vault below it. Her spirit\ncould find no rest till she had told who the murderer was, and pointed\nout where the body lay. In another, a baby heir had its little life\nstifled by the hand of an assassin hired by the next heir. The estate\nwas obtained, but the deed followed the villain beyond the grave, and\nhis spirit could find no peace. Night by night the ghost had to return\nat the hour of midnight to the room in which the murder was committed,\nand in agony spend in it the hours till cock-crowing, when everything\nof the supernatural had to disappear.'\n\nThe ghost of Lady Hamilton of Bothwellhaugh, who always appears in\nwhite, carrying her child in her arms, has long been, as Mr. Ingram\nsays,[83] 'an enduring monument of the bloodthirsty spirit of the age\nin which she lived.' Whilst her husband was away from home, a favourite\nof the Regent, Murray seized his house, turned his wife, on a cold\nnight, naked, into the open fields, where, before morning, she was\nfound raving mad; her infant perishing either by cold or murder. The\nruins of the mansion of Woodhouslee, 'whence Lady Bothwell was expelled\nin the brutal manner which occasioned her insanity and death,' have\nlong been tenanted with the unfortunate lady's ghost; 'and so tenacious\nis this spectre of its rights, that a part of the stones belonging to\nthe ancient edifice having been employed in building or repairing the\nnew Woodhouslee, the apparition has deemed it one of her privileges to\nhaunt that house also.'\n\nSamlesbury Hall, Lancashire, has its ghosts; and it is said that 'on\ncertain clear still evenings a lady in white can be seen passing along\nthe gallery and the corridors, and then from the hall into the grounds;\nthen she meets a handsome knight who receives her on bended knees, and\nhe then accompanies her along the walks. On arriving at a certain spot,\nmost probably the lover's grave, both the phantoms stand still, and, as\nthey seem to utter lost wailings of despair, they embrace each other,\nand then melt away into the clear blue of the surrounding sky.' The\nstory goes that one of the daughters of Sir John Southworth, a former\nowner, formed an attachment with the heir of a neighbouring house; but\nwhen Sir John said 'no daughter of his should ever be united to the son\nof a family which had deserted its ancestral faith,' an elopement was\narranged. The day and place were overheard by the lady's brother, and,\non the evening agreed upon, he rushed from his hiding-place and slew\nher lover. But soon afterwards her mind gave way, and she died a raving\nmaniac.[84]\n\nMrs. Murray, a lady born and brought up in the borders, writes Mr.\nHenderson,[85] tells me of 'a cauld lad,' of whom she heard in her\nchildhood during a visit to Gilsland, in Cumberland. He perished from\ncold, at the behest of some cruel uncle or stepdame, and ever after his\nghost haunted the family, coming shivering to their bedsides before\nanyone was stricken by illness, his teeth audibly chattering; and if it\nwere to be fatal, he laid his icy hand upon the part which would be the\nseat of the disease, saying:\n\n    Cauld, cauld, aye cauld!\n    An' ye see he cauld for evermair.\n\nSt. Donart's Castle, on the southern coast of Glamorganshire, has its\nfavourite ghost, that of Lady Stradling, who is said to have been\nmurdered by one of her family. 'It appears,' writes the late Mr. Wirt\nSikes,[86] 'when any mishap is about to befall a member of the house\nof Stradling, the direct line, however, of which is extinct. She wears\nhigh-heeled shoes, and a long trailing gown of the finest silk.' While\nshe wanders, the castle hounds refuse to rest, but with their howling\nraise all the dogs in the neighbourhood. The Little Shelsey people long\npreserved a tradition that the court-house in that parish was haunted\nby the spirit of a Lady Lightfoot, who was said to have been imprisoned\nand murdered;[87] and Cumnor Hall has acquired a romantic interest from\nthe poetic glamour flung over it by Mickle in his ballad of Cumnor\nHall, and by Sir Walter Scott in his 'Kenilworth.' Both refer to it\nas the scene of Amy Robsart's murder, and although the jury agreed to\naccept her death as accidental, the country folk would not forego their\nidea that it was the result of foul play. Ever since the fatal event\nit was asserted that 'Madam Dudley's ghost did use to walk in Cumnor\nPark, and that it walked so obstinately, that it took no less than nine\nparsons from Oxford to lay her.' According to Mickle--\n\n    The village maids, with fearful glance,\n      Avoid the ancient moss-grown wall;\n    Nor ever lead the merry dance\n      Among the groves of Cumnor Hall.\n\nAbout half a mile to the east of Maxton, a small rivulet runs across\nthe old turnpike road, at a spot called Bow-brig-syke. Near this bridge\nis a triangular field, in which for nearly a century it was averred\nthat the forms of two ladies, dressed in white, might be seen pacing up\nand down, walking over precisely the same spot of ground till morning\nlight. But one day, while some workmen were repairing the road, they\ntook up the large flagstones upon which foot-passengers crossed the\nburn, and found beneath them the skeletons of two women lying side by\nside. After this discovery the Bow-brig ladies, as they were called,\nwere never again seen to walk in the three-corner field. The story goes\nthat these two ladies were sisters to a former laird of Littledean,\nwho is said to have killed them in a fit of passion, because they\ninterfered to protect from ill-usage a young lady whom he had met at\nBow-brig-syke. Some years later he met with his own death near the same\nfatal spot.[88]\n\nMr. Sullivan, in his 'Cumberland and Westmoreland,' relates how, some\nyears ago, a spectre appeared to a man who lived at Henhow Cottage,\nMartindale. Starting for his work at an early hour one morning, he\nhad not gone two hundred yards from his house when his dog gave signs\nof alarm, and, on looking round, he saw a woman carrying a child in\nher arms. On being questioned as to what was troubling her, the ghost\nreplied that she had been seduced, and that her seducer, to conceal\nhis guilt and her frailty, had given her medicine, the effect of\nwhich was to kill both mother and child. Her doom was to wander for a\nhundred years, forty of which had expired. The occurrence is believed\nto have made a lasting impression on the old man, who, says Sullivan,\n'was until lately a shepherd on the fells. There can be no moral doubt\nthat he both saw and spoke with the apparition; but what share his\nimagination had therein, or how it had been excited, are mysteries,\nand so they are likely to remain.' But as Grose remarks, ghosts do not\ngo about their business like living beings. In cases of murder, 'a\nghost, instead of going to the next justice of the peace and laying\nits information, or to the nearest relation of the person murdered,\nit appears to some poor labourer who knows none of the parties, draws\nthe curtains of some decrepit nurse or alms-woman, or hovers about the\nplace where his body is deposited.' The same circuitous mode, he adds,\n'is pursued with respect to redressing injured orphans or widows,\nwhen it seems as if the shorter and more certain would be to go to the\nperson guilty of the injustice, and haunt him continually till he be\nterrified into a restitution.'\n\nFrom early days the phantoms of the murdered have occasionally\nappeared to the living, and made known the guilty person or persons\nwho committed the deed. Thus Cicero relates how 'two Arcadians came\nto Megara together; one lodged at a friend's house, the other at an\ninn. During the night, the latter appeared to his fellow-traveller,\nimploring his help, as the innkeeper was plotting his death; the\nsleeper sprang up in alarm, but thinking the vision of no importance,\nhe went to sleep again. A second time his companion appeared to him, to\nentreat that, though he had failed to help, he would at least avenge,\nfor the innkeeper had killed him, and hidden his body in a dung-cart,\nwherefore he charged his fellow-traveller to be early next morning at\nthe city gate before the cart passed out. The traveller went as bidden,\nand there found the cart; the body of the murdered man was in it, and\nthe innkeeper was brought to justice.'[89]\n\nOf the many curious cases recorded of a murder being discovered through\nthe ghost of the murdered person, may be quoted one told in Aubrey's\n'Miscellanies.' It appears that on Monday, April 14, 1690, William\nBarwick was walking with his wife close to Cawood Castle, when, from\nmotives not divulged at the trial, he determined to murder her, and\nfinding a pond conveniently at hand, threw her in. But on the following\nTuesday, as his brother-in-law, Thomas Lofthouse, 'about half an hour\nafter twelve of the clock in the daytime, was watering quickwood, as\nhe was going for the second pail, there appeared walking before him an\napparition in the shape of a woman, \"her visage being like his wife's\nsister's.\" Soon after, she sat down over against the pond, on a green\nhill. He walked by her as he went to the pond, and, on his return, he\nobserved that she was dangling \"something like a white bag\" on her\nlap, evidently suggestive of her unborn baby that was slain with her.\nThe circumstance made such an impression on him, that he immediately\nsuspected Barwick, especially as he had made false statements as to\nthe whereabouts of his wife, and obtained a warrant for his arrest.\nThe culprit when arrested confessed his crime, and the body of the\nmurdered woman being recovered, was found dressed in clothing similar,\napparently, to that worn by the apparition. Ultimately Barwick was\nhanged for his crime.'[90]\n\nA similar case, which occurred in the county of Durham in 1631, and is\nthe subject of a critical historical inquiry in Surtees's 'History of\nDurham,' may be briefly summed up.[91] 'One Walker, a yeoman of good\nestate, a widower, living at Chester-le-Street, had in his service a\nyoung female relative named Anne Walker. The results of an amour which\ntook place between them caused Walker to send away the girl under\nthe care of one Mark Sharp, a collier, professedly that she might\nbe taken care of as befitted her condition, but in reality that she\nmight no more be troublesome to her lover. Nothing was heard of her\ntill, one night in the ensuing winter, one James Graham, coming down\nfrom the upper to the lower floor of his mill, found a woman standing\nthere with her hair hanging about her head, in which were five bloody\nwounds. According to the man's evidence, she gave an account of her\nfate; having been killed by Sharp on the moor in their journey, and\nthrown into a coal pit close by, while the instrument of her death,\na pick, had been hid under a bank along with his clothes, which were\nstained with her blood. She demanded of Graham that he should expose\nher murder, which he hesitated to do, until she had twice reappeared to\nhim, the last time with a threatening aspect.\n\n'The body, the pick, and the clothes having been found as Graham\nhad described, Walter and Sharp were tried at Durham, before Judge\nDavenport, in August 1631. The men were found guilty, condemned, and\nexecuted.'\n\nIn 'Ackerman's Repository' for November 1820, there is an account of\na person being tried on the pretended evidence of a ghost. A farmer,\non his return from the market at Southam, co. Warwick, was murdered.\nThe next morning a man called upon the farmer's wife, and related how\non the previous night her husband's ghost had appeared to him, and,\nafter showing him several stabs on his body, had told him that he was\nmurdered by a certain person, and his corpse thrown into a marl-pit.\nA search was instituted, the body found in the pit, and the wounds on\nthe body of the deceased were exactly in the parts described by the\npretended dreamer; the person who was mentioned was committed for trial\non the charge of murder, and the trial came on at Warwick before Lord\nChief Justice Raymond. The jury would have convicted the prisoner as\nrashly as the magistrate had committed him, but for the interposition\nof the judge, who told them he did not put any credence in the\npretended ghost story, since the prisoner was a man of unblemished\nreputation, and no ill-feeling had ever existed between himself and\nthe deceased. He added that he knew of no law which admitted of the\nevidence of a ghost, and, if any did, the ghost had not appeared. The\ncrier was then ordered to summon the ghost, which he did three times,\nand the judge then acquitted the prisoner, and caused the accuser to\nbe detained and his house searched, when such strong proofs of guilt\nwere discovered, that the man confessed the crime, and was executed for\nmurder at the following assizes.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[73] _The Chinese_: J. F. Davis, 1836, ii. pp. 139, 140.\n\n[74] _Folk-lore of China_, p. 73.\n\n[75] See Dorman's _Primitive Superstitions_, p. 304.\n\n[76] _Primitive Culture_, ii. p. 28.\n\n[77] See Dorman's _Primitive Superstitions_, 1880, pp. 19, 20.\n\n[78] Thorpe's _Northern Mythology_, ii, p. 19.\n\n[79] Thorpe's _Northern Mythology_, ii. pp. 94, 95.\n\n[80] Griffis, _The Mikado's Kingdom_.\n\n[81] Denny's _Folk-lore of China_; see Bassett's _Legends and\nSuperstitions of the Sea_, p. 296.\n\n[82] _Folk-lore of North-East of Scotland_, 1881, p. 68.\n\n[83] _Haunted Homes of England_, 1881, p. 286.\n\n[84] _Haunted Homes of England_, 2nd S., pp. 222-225.\n\n[85] _Folk-lore of Northern Counties_, p. 267.\n\n[86] _British Goblins_, pp. 143, 144.\n\n[87] _Gentleman's Magazine_, 1855, part ii. p. 58.\n\n[88] See Henderson's _Folk-lore of Northern Counties_, pp. 324-325.\n\n[89] Quoted in Tylor's _Primitive Culture_, i. p. 444.\n\n[90] See Ingram's _Haunted Homes_, 1884, pp. 33-36.\n\n[91] See _Book of Days_, ii. p. 287.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nPHANTOM BIRDS\n\n\nOne of the forms which the soul is said occasionally to assume at\ndeath is that of a bird--a pretty belief which, under one form or\nanother, exists all over the world. An early legend tells how, when\nSt. Polycarp was burnt alive, there arose from his ashes a white dove\nwhich flew towards heaven; and a similar story is told of Joan of Arc.\nThe Russian peasantry affirm that the souls of the departed haunt their\nold homes in the shape of birds for six weeks, and watch the grief\nof the bereft, after which time they fly away to the other world. In\ncertain districts bread-crumbs are placed on a piece of white linen at\na window during those six weeks, when the soul is believed to come and\nfeed upon them in the form of a bird. It is generally into pigeons or\ncrows that the dead are transformed. Thus, when the Deacon Theodore\nand his three schismatic brethren were burnt in the year 1682, writes\nMr. Ralston,[92] 'the souls of the martyrs appeared in the air as\npigeons.' In Volhynia dead children are believed to come back in the\nspring to their native village under the semblance of swallows and\nother small birds, endeavouring, by soft twittering or song, to console\ntheir sorrowing parents. The Bulgarians say that after death the soul\nassumes the form of a bird; and according to an old Bohemian fancy the\nsoul flies out of the dying in a similar shape. In the 'Chronicles of\nthe Beatified Anthony'[93] we find described fetid and black pools\n'in regione Puteolorum in Apulia,' whence the souls arise in the form\nof monstrous birds in the evening hours of the Sabbath, which neither\neat nor let themselves be caught, but wander till in the morning an\nenormous lion compels them to submerge themselves in the water.\n\nIt is a German belief that the soul of one who has died on shipboard\npasses into a bird, and when seen at any time it is supposed to\nannounce the death of another person. The ghost of the murdered mother\ncomes swimming in the form of a duck, or the soul sits in the likeness\nof a bird on the grave. This piece of folk-lore has been introduced\ninto many of the popular folk-tales, as in the well-known story of the\njuniper tree. A little boy is killed by his step-mother, who serves\nhim up as a dish of meat to his father. The father eats in ignorance,\nand throws away the bones, which are gathered up by the half-sister,\nwho puts them into a silk handkerchief and buries them under a juniper\ntree. But presently a bird of gay plumage perches on the tree, and\nwhistles as it flits from branch to branch:\n\n    Min moder de mi slach't,\n    Min fader de mi att,\n    Min swester de Marleenken,\n    S\u00f6cht alle mine Beeniken,\n    Und bindt sie in een syden Dodk,\n    Legst unner den Machandelboom;\n    Ky witt! ky witt! Ach watt en sch\u00f6n vogel bin ich!\n\n--a rhyme which Goethe puts into the mouth of Gretchen in prison.[94]\nIn Grimm's story of 'The White and the Black Bride,' the mother and\nsister push the true bride into the stream. At the same moment a\nsnow-white swan is discovered swimming down the stream.\n\nSwedish folk-lore tells us that the ravens which scream by night in\nforest swamps and wild moors are the ghosts of murdered men whose\nbodies have been hidden by their undetected murderers, and not had\nChristian burial. In Denmark the night-raven is considered an exorcised\nspirit, and there is said to be a hole in its left wing caused by the\nstake driven into the earth. Where a spirit has been exorcised, it is\nonly through the most frightful swamps and morasses that it ascends,\nfirst beginning under the earth with the cry of 'Rok! rok!' then 'Rok\nop! rok op!' and when it has thus come forth, it flies away screaming\n'Hei! hei! he!--i!' When it has flown up it describes a cross, but one\nmust take care, it is said, not to look up when the bird is flying\noverhead, for he who sees through the hole in its wing will become\na night-raven himself, and the night-raven will be released. This\nominous bird is ever flying towards the east, in the hope of reaching\nthe Holy Sepulchre, for when it arrives there it will find rest.[95]\nThen there is the romantic Breton ballad of 'Lord Nann and the\nKorrigan,' wherein it is related how--\n\n    It was a marvel to see, men say,\n    The night that followed the day,\n    The lady in earth by her lord lay,\n\n    To see two oak trees themselves rear,\n    From the new made grave into the air;\n\n    And on their branches two doves white,\n    Who there were hopping, gay and light,\n\n    Which sang when rose the morning ray,\n    And then towards heaven sped away.\n\nIn Mexico it is a popular belief that after death the souls of nobles\nanimate beautiful singing birds, and certain North American Indian\ntribes maintain that the souls of their chiefs take the form of small\nwoodbirds.[96] Among the Abipones of Paraguay we are told of a peculiar\nkind of little ducks which fly in flocks at night-time, uttering a\nmournful tone, and which the popular imagination associates with the\nsouls of those who have died. Darwin mentions a South American Indian\nwho would not eat land-birds because they were dead men; and the\nCalifornian tribes abstain from large game, believing that the souls of\npast generations have passed into their bodies. The I\u00e7annas of Brazil\nthought the souls of brave warriors passed into lovely birds that fed\non pleasant fruits; and the Tapuyas think the souls of the good and\nthe brave enter birds, while the cowardly become reptiles. Indeed, the\nprimitive psychology of such rude tribes reminds us how the spirit\nfreed at death--\n\n    Fills with fresh energy another form,\n    And towers an elephant, or glides a worm;\n    Swims as an eagle in the eye of noon,\n    Or wails a screech-owl to the deaf cold moon.\n\nIt was also a belief of the Aztecs that all good people, as a reward of\nmerit, were metamorphosed at the close of life into feathered songsters\nof the grove, and in this form passed a certain term in the umbrageous\nbowers of Paradise; while certain African tribes think that the souls\nof wicked men become jackals. The Brazilians imagined that the souls\nof the bad animated those birds that inhabited the cavern of Guacharo\nand made a mournful cry, which birds were religiously feared.\n\nTracing similar beliefs in our own country, may be compared the\nLancashire dread of the so-called 'Seven Whistlers,' which are\noccasionally heard at night, and are supposed to contain the souls of\nthose Jews who assisted at the Crucifixion, and in consequence of their\nwickedness were doomed to float for ever in the air. Numerous stories\nhave been told, from time to time, of the appearance of these 'Seven\nWhistlers,' and of their being heard before some terrible catastrophe,\nsuch as a colliery explosion. A correspondent of 'Notes and Queries'\nrelates how during a thunderstorm which passed over Kettering, in\nYorkshire, on the evening of September 6, 1871, 'on which occasion the\nlightning was very vivid, an unusual spectacle was witnessed. Immense\nflocks of birds were flying about, uttering doleful affrighted cries as\nthey passed over the locality, and for hours they kept up a continual\nwhistling like that made by sea-birds. There must have been great\nnumbers of them, as they were also observed at the same time in the\ncounties of Northampton, Leicester, and Lincoln. The next day, as my\nservant was driving me to a neighbouring village, this phenomenon of\nthe flight of birds became the subject of conversation, and on asking\nhim what birds he thought they were, he told me they were what were\ncalled the \"Seven Whistlers,\" and that whenever they were heard it was\nconsidered a sign of some great calamity, and that the last time he\nheard them was the night before the great Hartley Colliery explosion.\nHe had also been told by soldiers, that if they heard them they always\nexpected a great slaughter would take place soon. Curiously enough, on\ntaking up the newspaper the following morning, I saw headed in large\nletters, \"Terrible Colliery Explosion at Wigan,\" &c.' Wordsworth speaks\nof the 'Seven Whistlers' in connection with the spectral hounds of the\nwild huntsman:\n\n    He the seven birds hath seen that never part--\n      Seen the seven whistlers on their nightly rounds,\n    And counted them. And oftentimes will start,\n      For overhead are sweeping Gabriel's hounds,\n    Doomed, with their impious lord, the flying hart\n      To chase for ever on \u00e6rial grounds.\n\nA similar tradition prevails on the Bosphorus with reference to\ncertain flocks of birds, about the size of a thrush, which fly up and\ndown the Channel, and are never seen to rest on the land or water.\nThese are supposed to be the souls of the damned, and condemned to\nperpetual motion. Among further instances of the same belief may be\nmentioned one current among the Manx herring fishermen, who, from time\nimmemorial, have been afraid of going to sea without a dead wren, for\nfear of disasters and storms. The story goes that once upon a time 'a\nsea spirit hunted the herring track, always attended by storms, but\nat last assumed the form of a wren, and flew away.' Accordingly they\nbelieve that so long as they have a dead wren with them all is snug and\nsafe. Similarly, in the English Channel a rustling, rushing sound is\noccasionally heard on the dark still nights of winter, and is called\nthe herring spear, or herring piece, by the fishermen of Dover and\nFolkestone. But this strange sound is really caused by the flight of\nthe little redwings as they cross the Channel on their way to warmer\nregions.\n\nStories of disembodied souls appearing as birds are very numerous. An\nold well-known Cornish legend tells how, in days of old, King Arthur\nwas transformed into a chough, 'its talons and beak all red with\nblood,' denoting the violent end to which the celebrated chieftain\ncame. In the same way a curious legend in Poland affirms that every\nmember of the Herburt family assumes the form of an eagle after death,\nand that the eldest daughters of the Pileck line take the shape of\ndoves if they die unmarried, of owls if they die married, and that\nthey give previous notice of their death to every member of their race\nby pecking a finger of each. A wild song sung by the boatmen of the\nMolo, Venice, declares that the spirit of Daniel Manin, the patriot, is\nflying about the lagunes to this day in the shape of a beautiful white\ndove.[97] There is the ancient Irish tradition that the first father\nand mother of mankind exist as eagles in the island of Innis Bofin,\nat the mouth of Killery Bay, in Galway; indeed, survivals of this old\nbelief occur under all manner of forms. There is the popular legend of\nthe owl and the baker's daughter which Shakespeare has immortalised\nin 'Hamlet' (iv. 5), where Ophelia exclaims, 'They say the owl was\na baker's daughter; Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we\nmay be.'[98] Gervase of Tilbury tells how the stork was formerly\nregarded as both bird and man, on account of which superstition it is\ncarefully protected in Prussia from any kind of injury. The stork,\ntoo, is still held in superstitious dread by the Chinese, who, on the\ntwenty-first day of the period of mourning for the dead, place three\nlarge paper birds resembling storks on high poles in front of the house\nof mourning. The birds are supposed to carry the soul of the deceased\nperson to Elysium, and during the next three days the Buddhist prays\nto the ten kings of the Buddhist Hades, calling on them to hasten the\nflight of the departed soul to the Western Paradise.[99] The Virginian\nIndians had great reverence for a small bird called Pawcorance, that\nflies in the woods, and in its note continually sounds that name. This\nbird flies alone, and is heard only in twilight. It is said to be the\nson of one of their priests, and on this account they would not hurt\nit; but there was once a profane Indian who was hired to shoot one of\nthem, but report says he paid dearly for his act of presumption, for a\nfew days afterwards he disappeared, and was never heard of again.[100]\nThe Indians dwelling about the Falls of St. Anthony supposed that the\nspirits of their dead warriors animated the eagles which frequented the\nplace, and these eagles were objects of their worship. In the 'S\u00e6mund\nEdda' it is said that in the nether world souls as singed birds fly\nabout like swarms of flies--\n\n    Of that is to be told\n    What I just observed,\n    When I had come into the land of torment:\n    Singed birds,\n    That had been souls,\n    Flew as many as gnats.\n\nThe Finns and the Lithuanians speak of the 'Milky Way' as the Bird's\nWay--the way of souls. According to Kuhn, the notion of the soul\nassuming the form of a bird is closely allied with the primitive\ntradition of birds as soul-bringers. Thus, as it has been suggested,\n'the soul and the bird that brought it down to earth may have been\nsupposed to become one, and to enter and quit the body together.'\nIn the Egyptian hieroglyphics a bird signified the soul of man; and\nthe German name for stork, writes Grimm, is literally child, or\nsoul-bringer. Hence the belief that the advent of infants is presided\nover by this bird, which obtains so wide a credence in Denmark and\nGermany.[101]\n\nThe idea of the bird as a 'soul bringer' probably gave rise to the\npopular belief that it is unlucky when a bird hovers near the window of\na sick-room, a superstition to which Mrs. Hemans has prettily alluded:\n\n    Say not 'tis vain! I tell thee some\n      Are warned by a meteor's light,\n    Or a pale bird flitting calls them home,\n      Or a voice on the winds by night.\n\nThere are various stories told of mysterious birds appearing at such a\ntime in different localities. In Devonshire the appearance of a white\nbreasted bird has long been considered a presage of death, a notion\nwhich is said to have originated in a tragic occurrence that happened\nto one of the Oxenham family. A local ballad tells how on the bridal\neve of Margaret, heiress of Sir James Oxenham, a silver-breasted bird\nflew over the wedding guests just as Sir James stood up to thank them\nfor good wishes. The next day she was slain by a discarded lover, and\nthe ballad records how--\n\n    Round her hovering flies,\n    The phantom-bird, for her last breath,\n    To bear it to the skies.\n\nIn Yorkshire, Berry Well was supposed to be haunted by a bogie in\nthe form of a white goose, and the Rev. S. Baring-Gould informs us\nhow Lew Trenchard House is haunted by a white lady who goes by the\nname of Madame Gould, and is supposed to be the spirit of a lady who\ndied there, April 10, 1795. 'A stone is shown on the \"ramps\" of Lew\nSlate Quarry, where seven parsons met to lay the old madame, and some\nsay that the white owl, which nightly flits to and fro in front of\nLew House, is the spirit of the lady conjured by the parsons into a\nbird.'[102]\n\nSimilarly, whenever the white owls are seen perched on the family\nmansion of the noble family of Arundel of Wardour, it is regarded as\na certain indication that one of its members will shortly be summoned\nout of the world. In Count Montalembert's 'Vie de Ste. Elizabeth' it\nis related how 'Duke Louis of Thuringia, the husband of Ste. Elizabeth\nof Hungary, being on the point of expiring, said to those around him,\n\"Do you see those doves more white than snow?\" His attendants supposed\nhim to be a prey to visions; but a little while afterwards he said to\nthem, \"I must fly away with those brilliant doves.\" Having said this\nhe fell asleep in peace. Then his almoner, Berthold, perceived doves\nflying away to the east, and followed them along with his eyes.' We\nmay compare a similar story told of the most beautiful woman of the\nKnistenaux, named 'Foot of the Fawn,' who died in her childbirth, and\nher babe with her. Soon afterwards two doves appeared, one full grown,\nand the other a little one. They were the spirits of the mother and\nchild, and the Indians would gather about the tree on which they were\nperched with reverential love, and worship them as the spirit of\nthe woman and child.[103] There is Lord Lyttelton's well-known ghost\nstory, and the belief of the Duchess of Kendal that George I. flew\ninto her window in the shape of a raven. Another well-known case was\nthat of the Duchess of St. Albans, who, on her death-bed, remarked\nto her step-daughter, Lady Guilford, 'I am so happy to day because\nyour father's spirit is breathing upon me; he has taken the shape of\na little bird singing at my window.' Kelly relates an anecdote of\na credulous individual who believed that the departing soul of his\nbrother-in-law, in the form of a bird, tapped at his window at the\ntime of his death;[104] and in FitzPatrick's 'Life of Bishop Doyle' it\nis related, in allusion to his death, that, 'considering the season\nwas midsummer, and not winter, the visit of two robin redbreasts to\nthe sick-room may be noticed as interesting. They remained fluttering\nround, and sometimes perching on the uncurtained bed. The priests,\nstruck by the novelty of the circumstance, made no effort to expel\nthe little visitors, and the robins hung lovingly over the bishop's\nhead until death released him.' A singular instance of this belief\nwas the extraordinary whim of a Worcester lady, who, imagining her\ndaughter to exist in the shape of a singing-bird, literally furnished\nher pew in the Cathedral with cages full of the kind; and we are told\nin Lord Oxford's letters that, as she was rich, and a benefactress in\nbeautifying the church, no objection was made to her harmless folly.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[92] _Songs of the Russian People_, p. 118.\n\n[93] Quoted by Gubernatis, _Zoological Mythology_, 1872, ii. pp. 254,\n255.\n\n[94] Countess Evelyn Martinengo-Cesaresco, _Study of Folk-songs_ p. 10;\nThorpe's _Northern Mythology_, i. p. 289.\n\n[95] Henderson's _Folk-lore of Northern Counties_, p. 126; Thorpe's\nNorthern Mythology, ii. p. 211.\n\n[96] See Dorman's _Primitive Superstitions_, pp. 48, 49.\n\n[97] Jones' _Credulities, Past and Present_, p. 376.\n\n[98] See Dasent's _Tales of the Norse_, 1859, p. 230.\n\n[99] Jones' _Credulities, Past and Present_, p. 373.\n\n[100] Dorman's _Primitive Superstitions_, pp. 255, 256.\n\n[101] Hardwick's _Traditions, Superstitions, and Folk-lore_, 1872\np. 243; Thorpe's _Northern Mythology_, i. p. 289. See Kelly's\n_Indo-European Folk-lore_, p. 103.\n\n[102] See Henderson's _Folk-lore of Northern Counties_, pp. 331-335.\n\n[103] Dorman's _Primitive Superstitions_, p. 255.\n\n[104] _Indo-European Folk-lore_, pp. 104, 105.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nANIMAL GHOSTS\n\n\nIt is the rule rather than the exception for ghosts to take the\nform of animals. A striking feature of this form of animism is its\nuniversality, an argument, it is said, in favour of its having\noriginally sprung from the old theory of metempsychosis which has\npertinaciously existed in successive stages of the world's culture.\n'Possibly,' it has been suggested, 'the animal form of ghosts is a mark\nof the once-supposed divinity of the dead. Ancestor worship is one\nof the oldest of the creeds, and in all mythologies we find that the\ngods could transform themselves into any shape at will, and frequently\ntook those of beasts and birds.'[105] At the same time, one would\nscarcely expect to come across nowadays this fanciful belief in our\nown and other civilised countries, and yet instances are of constant\noccurrence, being deeply rooted in many a local tradition. Acts of\ninjustice done to a person cause the soul to return in animal form by\nway of retribution. Thus, in Cornwall, it is a very popular fancy that\nwhen a young woman who has loved not wisely but too well dies forsaken\nand broken-hearted, she comes back to haunt her deceiver in the form\nof a white hare.[106] This phantom pursues the false one everywhere,\nbeing generally invisible to everyone but himself. It occasionally\nrescues him from danger, but invariably causes his death in the end. A\nShropshire story tells[107] how 'two or three generations back there\nwas a lady buried in her jewels at Fitz, and afterwards the clerk\nrobbed her; and she used to walk Cuthery Hollow in the form of a colt.\nThey called it Obrick's Colt, and one night the clerk met it, and fell\non his knees, saying, \"Abide, Satan! abide! I am a righteous man, and a\npsalm singer.\"'[108] The ghost was known as Obrick's Colt from the name\nof the thief, who, as the peasantry were wont to say, 'had niver no\npace atter; a was sadly troubled in his yed, and mithered.'[109]\n\nSometimes the spirit in animal form is that of a wicked person doomed\nto wear that shape for some offence. A man who hanged himself at\nBroomfield, near Shrewsbury, 'came again in the form of a large black\ndog;' and an amusing Shropshire story is told of the laying of an\nanimal ghost at Bagbury, which took the form of a roaring bull, and\ncaused no small alarm. This bull, it appears, had been a very bad\nman, but when his unexpected presence as a bull-ghost terrified the\nneighbourhood, it was deemed desirable by the twelve parsons whose help\nhad been invoked to run him to earth in Hyssington Church, with candles\nand all the paraphernalia employed on such occasions. But the bull,\nbecoming infuriated, 'made such a bust that he cracked the wall of\nthe church from the top to the bottom.' Their efforts were ultimately\nsuccessful, for they captured him, and as he was compressible, they\nshut him up in a snuff-box, and laid him in the Red Sea for a thousand\nyears.\n\nLady Howard, a Devonshire notable of the time of James\u00a0I., in spite\nof her beauty and accomplishments, had many bad qualities, and amongst\nothers was not only guilty of unnatural cruelty to her only daughter,\nbut had a mysterious knack of getting rid of her husbands, having been\nmarried no less than four times. Her misdemeanours, however, did not\nescape with impunity, for, on her death, her spirit was transformed\ninto a hound, and compelled to run every night, between midnight and\ncockcrow, from the gateway of Fitzford, her former residence, to\nOakhampton Park, and bring back to the place from whence she started a\nblade of grass in her mouth, and this penance she is doomed to continue\ntill every blade of grass is removed from the park, which she will not\nbe able to effect till the end of the world.\n\nMany spectral dogs, believed to be the souls of wicked persons, are\nsaid to haunt the sides of rivers and pools, and the story goes that\nthere once lived in the hamlet of Dean Combe, Devon, a weaver of great\nfame and skill. After a prosperous life he died, but the next day he\nappeared sitting at the loom and working diligently as when he was\nalive. His sons applied to the parson, who, hearing the noise of the\nweaver's shuttle above, cried, 'Knowles! come down; this is no place\nfor thee.' 'I will,' said the weaver, 'as soon as I have worked out\nmy quill' (the quill is the shuttle-full of wool). 'Nay,' said the\nvicar, 'thou hast been long enough at thy work, come down at once!' So\nwhen the spirit came down, the vicar took a handful of earth from the\nchurchyard, and threw it on its face, and instantly it became a black\nhound. Then the vicar took a nutshell with a hole in it, and led the\nhound to the pool below the waterfall. 'Take this shell,' he said,\n'and when thou shalt have dipped out the pool with it, thou mayest\nrest, not before.'[110] On the west coast of Ireland, fishermen have a\nstrong prejudice against killing seals, owing to a popular tradition\nthat they enshrined 'the souls of them that were drowned at the flood.'\nIt was also said that such seals possessed the power of casting aside\ntheir external skins, and disporting themselves in human form on the\nsea-shore.\n\nWithin the parish of Tring, Hertford, a poor old woman was drowned\nin 1751 for suspected witchcraft. A chimney-sweeper, who was the\nprincipal perpetrator of this deed, was hanged and gibbeted near the\nplace where the murder was committed; and while the gibbet stood, and\nlong after it had disappeared, the spot was haunted by a black dog. A\ncorrespondent of the 'Book of Days' (ii. 433) says that he was told by\nthe village schoolmaster, who had been 'abroad,' that he himself had\nseen this diabolical dog. 'I was returning home,' said he, 'late at\nnight in a gig with the person who was driving. When we came near the\nspot, where a portion of the gibbet had lately stood, he saw on the\nbank of the roadside a flame of fire as large as a man's hat. \"What's\nthat?\" I exclaimed. \"Hush!\" said my companion, and suddenly pulling\nin his horse, made a dead stop. I then saw an immense black dog just\nin front of our horse, the strangest looking creature I ever beheld.\nHe was as big as a Newfoundland, but very gaunt, shaggy, with long\nears and tail, eyes like balls of fire, and large, long teeth, for he\nopened his mouth and seemed to grin at us. In a few minutes the dog\ndisappeared, seeming to vanish like a shadow, or to sink into the\nearth, and we drove on over the spot where he had lain.'\n\nOccasionally, when loss of life has happened through an accident, a\nspectre animal of some kind has been afterwards seen. Some years ago\nan accident happened in a Cornish mine, whereby several men lost their\nlives. As soon as help could be procured, a party descended, but the\nremains of the poor fellows were discovered to be mutilated beyond\nrecognition. On being brought up to the surface, the clothes and a\nmass of mangled flesh dropped from the bodies. A bystander, anxious\nto spare the feelings of the relatives present, quickly cast the\nunsightly mass into the blazing furnace of an engine close at hand. But\never since that day the engineman positively asserted that troops of\nlittle black dogs continually haunted the locality. Then there is the\npretty legend mentioned by Wordsworth in his poem entitled, 'The White\nDoe of Rylstone,' in which is embodied a Yorkshire tradition to the\neffect that the lady founder of Bolton Abbey revisited the ruins of the\nvenerable structure in the form of a spotless white doe:\n\n    Which, though seemingly doomed in its breast to sustain\n    A softened remembrance of sorrow and pain,\n    Is spotless, and holy, and gentle, and bright,\n    And glides o'er the earth like an angel of light.\n\nSo common in France are human ghosts in bestial form, 'that M.\nD'Assier has invented a Darwinian way of accounting for the phenomena.\nM. D'Assier, a positivist, is a believer in ghosts, but not in the\nimmortality of the soul. He suggests that the human _revenants_ in the\nguise of sheep, cows, and shadowy creatures may be accounted for by a\nkind of Atavism, or \"throwing back,\" on the side of the spirit to the\nlower animal forms out of which humanity was developed!'[111]\n\nAccording to a German piece of folk-lore, the soul takes the form of a\nsnake, a notion we find shared by the Zulus, who revere a certain kind\nof serpents as the ghosts of the dead; and the Northern Indians speak\nof a serpent coming out of the mouth of a woman at death. It is further\nrelated that out of the mouth of a sleeping person a snake creeps and\ngoes a long distance, and that whatever it sees, or suffers, on its\nway, the sleeper dreams of. If it is prevented from returning, the\nperson dies.[112] Another belief tells us that the soul occasionally\nescapes from the mouth in the shape of a weasel or a mouse, a\nsuperstition to which Goethe alludes in 'Faust':\n\n    Ah! in the midst of her song,\n    A red mouseskin sprang out of her mouth.\n\nTurning to similar beliefs current among distant nations, we are told\nthat the Andaman Islanders had a notion that at death the soul vanished\nfrom the earth in the form of various animals and fishes; and in\nGuinea, monkeys found in the locality of a graveyard are supposed to be\nanimated by the spirits of the dead. As Mr. Andrew Lang remarks:[113]\n'Among savages who believe themselves to be descended from beasts,\nnothing can be more natural than the hypothesis that the souls revert\nto bestial shapes.' Certain of the North American Indian tribes believe\nthat the spirits of their dead enter into bears; and some of the\nPapuans in New Guinea 'imagine they will reappear as certain of the\nanimals in their own island. The cassowary and the emu are the most\nremarkable animals that they know of; they have lodged in them the\nshades of their ancestors, and hence the people abstain from eating\nthem.'[114] Spiritualism, we are told, is very widely spread among\nthe Esquimos, who maintain that all animals have their spirits, and\nthat the spirits of men can enter into the bodies of animals.[115]\nIn the Ladrone Islands it was supposed that the spirits of the dead\nanimated the bodies of the fish, and 'therefore to make better use of\nthese precious spirits, they burnt the soft portions of the dead body,\nand swallowed the cinders which they let float on the top of their\ncocoa-nut wine.'[116]\n\nIn most parts of England there is a popular belief in a spectral dog,\nwhich is generally described as 'large, shaggy, and black, with long\nears and tail. It does not belong to any species of living dogs, but is\nseverally said to represent a hound, a setter, a terrier, or a shepherd\ndog, though often larger than a Newfoundland.'[117] It is commonly\nsupposed to be a bad spirit, haunting places where evil deeds have\nbeen done, or where some calamity may be expected. In Lancashire, this\nspectre-dog is known as 'Trash' and 'Striker,'[118] its former name\nhaving been applied to it from the peculiar noise made by its feet,\nwhich is supposed to resemble that of a person walking along a miry,\nsloppy road, with heavy shoes; and its latter appellation from its\nuttering a curious screech, which is thought to warn certain persons\nof the approaching death of some relative or friend. If followed, it\nretreats with its eyes fronting its pursuer, and either sinks into\nthe ground with a frightful shriek, or in some mysterious manner\ndisappears. When struck, the weapon passes through it as if it were a\nmere shadow. In Norfolk and Cambridgeshire this apparition is known\nto the peasantry by the name of 'shuck'--the provincial word for\n'shag'--and is reported to haunt churchyards and other lonely places.\nA dreary lane in the parish of Overstrand is called from this spectral\nanimal 'Shuck's Lane,' and it is said that if the spot where it has\nbeen seen be examined after its disappearance, it will be found to be\nscorched, and strongly impregnated with the smell of brimstone. Mrs.\nLatham tells[119] how a man of notoriously bad character, who lived in\na lonely spot at the foot of the South Downs, without any companion\nof either sex, was believed to be nightly haunted by evil spirits in\nthe form of rats. Persons passing by his cottage late at night heard\nhim cursing them, and desiring them to let him rest in peace. It was\nsupposed they were sent to do judgment on him, and would carry him away\nsome night. But he received his death-blow in a drunken brawl.\n\nIn the neighbourhood of Leeds there is the Padfoot, a weird apparition\nabout the size of a small donkey, 'with shaggy hair and large eyes\nlike saucers.' Mr. Baring-Gould relates[120] how a man in Horbury once\nsaw 'the Padfooit,' which 'in this neighbourhood is a white dog like\na \"flay-craw.\"' It goes sometimes on two legs, sometimes it runs on\nthree, and to see it is a prognostication of death. He was going home\nby Jenkin, and he saw a white dog in the hedge. He struck at it, and\nthe stick passed through it. Then the white dog looked at him, and\nit had 'great saucer e'en'; and he was so 'flayed,' that he ran home\ntrembling and went to bed, when he fell ill and died. With this strange\napparition may be compared the Barguest, Bahrgeist, or Boguest of\nNorthumberland, Durham, and Yorkshire, and the Boggart of Lancashire;\nan uncanine creature, which generally assumes the form of a large black\ndog with flaming eyes, and is supposed to be a presage of death. The\nword 'barguest,' according to Sir Walter Scott, is from the German\n'bahrgeist'--spirit of the bier; and, as it has been pointed out, the\nproverbial expression to 'war like a Barguest,' shows how deep a hold\nthis apparition once had on the popular mind. There is a Barguest in a\nglen between Darlington and Houghton, near Throstlenest, and another\nhaunted a piece of waste land above a spring called the Oxwells,\nbetween Wreghorn and Headingly Hill, near Leeds. On the death of any\nperson of local importance in the neighbourhood the creature would\ncome forth, followed by all the dogs barking and howling.[121] Another\nform of this animal spectre is the Capelthwaite, which, according to\ncommon report, had the power of appearing in the form of any quadruped,\nbut usually chose that of a large black dog. It does not seem to have\nappeared of late years, for tradition tells how a vicar of Beetham went\nout in his ecclesiastical vestments to lay this troublesome spirit in\nthe River Bela.[122]\n\nIn Wales, there is the Gwyllgi, or 'dog of darkness,' a terrible\nspectre of a mastiff which, with a baleful breath and blazing red\neyes, has often inspired terror even amongst the strong-minded Welsh\npeasantry. Many stories are told of its encountering unwary travellers,\nwho have been so overcome by its unearthly howl, or by the glare of its\nfiery eyes, that they have fallen senseless on the ground. A certain\nlane, leading from Mowsiad to Lisworney-Crossways, is said to have been\nhaunted by a Gwyllgi of the most terrible aspect. A farmer, living near\nthere, was one night returning home from market on a young mare, when\nsuddenly the animal shied, reared, tumbled the farmer off, and bolted\nfor home. The farm-servants, finding the mare trembling by the barn\ndoor, suspected she had seen the Gwyllgi, and going in search of their\nmaster, they found him on his back in the mud, who, being questioned,\nprotested 'it was the Gwyllgi, and nothing less, that had made all this\ntrouble.'[123]\n\nIt is a popular belief in Wales that horses have the peculiar 'gift'\nof seeing spectres, and carriage horses have been known to display\nevery sign of the utmost terror when the occupants of the carriage\ncould see no cause for alarm. Such an apparition is an omen of death,\nand an indication that a funeral will pass before long, bearing to the\ngrave some person not dead at the time of the horses' fright. Another\nfamous dog-fiend, in the shape of a shaggy spaniel, was the 'Mauthe\nDoog,' which was said to haunt Peel Castle, Isle of Man. Its favourite\nplace was the guard-chamber, where it would lie down by the fireside.\nAccording to Waldron, 'the soldiers lost much of their terror by the\nfrequency of the sight; yet, as they believed it to be an evil spirit\nwaiting for an opportunity to hinder them, the belief kept them so far\nin order that they refrained from swearing in its presence. But, as\nthe Mauthe Doog used to come out and return by the passage through the\nchurch, by which also somebody must go to deliver the keys every night\nto the captain, they continued to go together; he whose turn it was to\ndo that duty being accompanied by the next in rotation. On a certain\nnight, however, one of the soldiers, being the worse for liquor, would\ngo with the key alone, though it really was not his turn. His comrades\ntried to dissuade him, but he said he wanted the Mauthe Doog's company,\nand would try whether he was dog or devil. Soon afterwards a great\nnoise alarmed the soldiers; and when the adventurer returned, he was\nstruck with horror and speechless, nor could he even make such signs\nas might give them to understand what had happened to him; but he died\nwith distorted features in violent agony. After this the apparition was\nnever seen again.'\n\nThen there are the packs of spectral hounds, which some folk-lorists\ntell us are evil spirits that have assumed this form in order to mimic\nthe sports of men, or to hunt their souls. They are variously named\nin different parts of the country--being designated in the North,\n'Gabriel's Hounds'; in Devon, the 'Wisk,' 'Yesk,' 'Yeth,' or 'Heath\nHounds'; in Wales, 'Cwn Annwn' or 'Cwn y Wybr'; and in Cornwall,\nthe 'Devil and his Dandy-Dogs.' Such spectral hounds are generally\ndescribed as 'monstrous human-headed dogs,' and 'black, with fiery\neyes and teeth, and sprinkled all over with blood.' They are often\nheard though seldom seen, 'and seem to be passing along simply in the\nair, as if in hot pursuit of their prey'; and when they appear to hang\nover a house, then death or misfortune may shortly be expected. In the\ngorge of Cliviger the spectre huntsman, under the name of 'Gabriel\nRatchets,' with his hounds yelping through the air, is believed to hunt\na milk-white doe round the Eagle's Crag, in the Vale of Todmorden,\non All Hallows Eve.[124] Mr. Holland, of Sheffield, has embodied the\nlocal belief in the subjoined sonnet, and says: 'I never can forget the\nimpression made upon my mind when once arrested by the cry of these\nGabriel hounds as I passed the parish church of Sheffield one densely\ndark and very still night. The sound was exactly like the questing\nof a dozen beagles on the foot of a race, but not so loud, and highly\nsuggestive of ideas of the supernatural.'\n\n    Oft have I heard my honoured mother say,\n      How she has listened to the Gabriel hounds--\n      Those strange, unearthly, and mysterious sounds\n    Which on the ear through murkiest darkness fell;\n    And how, entranced by superstitious spell,\n      The trembling villager nor seldom heard,\n      In the quaint notes of the nocturnal bird,\n    Of death premonished, some sick neighbour's knell.\n    I, too, remember, once at midnight dark,\n      How these sky-yelpers startled me, and stirred\n      My fancy so, I could have then averred\n    A mimic pack of beagles low did bark.\n    Nor wondered I that rustic fear should trace\n    A spectral huntsman doomed to that long moonless chase.\n\nIn the neighbourhood of Leeds these hounds are known as 'Gabble\nRetchets,' and are supposed, as in other places, to be the souls of\nunbaptized children who flit restlessly about their parents' abode. The\nYeth hounds were heard some few years ago in the parish of St. Mary\nTavy by an old man named Roger Burn. He was walking in the fields, when\nhe suddenly heard the baying of the hounds, the shouts and horn of\nthe huntsman, and the smacking of his whip. The last point the old man\nquoted as at once settling the question, 'How could I be mistaken? Why,\nI heard the very smacking of his whip.'\n\nBut, as Mr. Yarrell has long ago explained, this mysterious noise is\ncaused by bean-geese, which, coming southwards in large flocks on the\napproach of winter--partly from Scotland and its islands, but chiefly\nfrom Scandinavia--choose dark nights for their migration, and utter a\nloud and very peculiar cry. The sound of these birds has been observed\nin every part of England, and as far west as Cornwall. One day a man\nwas riding alone near Land's End on a still dark night, when the\nyelping cry broke out above his head so suddenly, and to appearance so\nnear, that he instinctively pulled up the horse as if to allow the pack\nto pass, the animal trembling violently at the unexpected sounds.\n\nAn amusing account of the devil and his dandy-dogs is given by Mr.\nJ.\u00a0Q. Couch, in his 'Folk-lore of a Cornish Village,' from which it\nappears that 'a poor herdsman was journeying homeward across the\nmoors one windy night, when he heard at a distance among the Tors\nthe baying of hounds, which he soon recognised as the dismal chorus\nof the dandy-dogs. It was three or four miles to his house, and, very\nmuch alarmed, he hurried onward as fast as the treacherous nature of\nthe soil and the uncertainty of the path would allow; but, alas! the\nmelancholy yelping of the hounds, and the dismal holloa of the hunter,\ncame nearer and nearer. After a considerable run they had so gained\nupon him that on looking back--oh, horror! he could distinctly see\nhunter and dogs. The former was terrible to look at, and had the usual\ncomplement of _saucer-eyes_, horns, and tail accorded by common consent\nto the legendary devil. He was black, of course, and carried in his\nhand a long hunting pole. The dogs, a numerous pack, blackened the\nsmall patch of moor that was visible, each snorting fire, and uttering\na yelp of indescribably frightful tone. No cottage, rock, or tree was\nnear to give the herdsman shelter, and nothing apparently remained\nto him but to abandon himself to their fury, when a happy thought\nsuddenly flashed upon him and suggested a resource. Just as they were\nabout to rush upon him, he fell on his knees in prayer. There was a\nstrange power in the holy words he uttered, for immediately, as if\nresistance had been offered, the hell hounds stood at bay, howling more\ndismally than ever, and the hunter shouted, \"Bo Shrove,\" which means\n\"The boy prays,\" at which they all drew off on some other pursuit and\ndisappeared.'\n\nGervase of Tilbury informs us that in the thirteenth century the wild\nhunt was often seen by full moon in England traversing forest and down.\nIn the twelfth century it was known as the Herlething, the banks of the\nWye having been the scene of the most frequent chases.\n\nIn Wales, the Cwn Annwn, or Dogs of Hell, or, as they are sometimes\ncalled, 'Dogs of the Sky,' howl through the air 'with a voice\nfrightfully disproportionate to their size, full of a wild sort of\nlamentation,' but, although terrible to hear, they are harmless, and\nhave never been known to commit any mischief. One curious peculiarity\nis that the nearer these spectral hounds are to a man, the less loud\ntheir voices sound; and the farther off they are, the louder is their\ncry. According to one popular tradition, they are supposed to be\nhunting through the air the soul of the wicked man the instant it\nquits the body.\n\nThis superstition occupies, too, a conspicuous place in the folk-lore\nof Germany and Norway. Mr. Baring-Gould, in his 'Iceland, its Scenes\nand Sages,' describes it as he heard it from his guide Jon, who\nrelated it to him under the title of the 'Yule Host.' He tells us how\n'Odin, or Wodin, is the wild huntsman who nightly tears on his white\nhorse over the German and Norwegian forests and moor-sweeps, with his\nlegion of hell hounds. Some luckless woodcutter, on a still night,\nis returning through the pine-woods when suddenly his ear catches a\ndistant wail; a moan rolls through the interlacing branches; nearer\nand nearer comes the sound. There is the winding of a long horn waxing\nlouder and louder, the baying of hounds, the rattle of hoofs and paws\non the pine-tree tops.' This spectral chase goes by different names.\nIn Thuringia and elsewhere it is 'Hakelnberg' or 'Hackelnb\u00e4rend,' and\nthe story goes that Hakelnberg was a knight passionately fond of the\nchase, who, on his death-bed, would not listen to the priest, but\nsaid, 'I care not for heaven, I care only for the chase.' Then 'hunt\nuntil the last day,' exclaimed the priest. And now, through storm and\nsunshine, he fleets, a faint barking or yelping in the air announcing\nhis approach. Thorpe quotes a similar story as current in the\nNetherlands,[125] and in Denmark it occurs under various forms.[126]\nIn Schleswig it is Duke Abel, who slew his brother in 1252. Tradition\nsays that in an expedition against the Frieslanders, he sank into a\ndeep morass as he was fording the Eyder, where, being encumbered with\nthe weight of his armour, he was slain. His body was buried in the\nCathedral, but his spirit found no rest. The canons dug up the corpse,\nand buried it in a morass near Gottorp, but in the neighbourhood of\nthe place where he is buried all kinds of shrieks and strange sounds\nhave been heard, and 'many persons worthy of credit affirm that they\nhave heard sounds so resembling a huntsman's horn, that anyone would\nsay that a hunter was hunting there. It is, indeed, the general rumour\nthat Abel has appeared to many, black of aspect, riding on a small\nhorse, and accompanied by three hounds, which appear to be burning\nlike fire.'[127] In Sweden, when a noise like that of carriage and\nhorses is heard at night, the people say, 'Odin is passing by,' and in\nNorway this spectral hunt is known as the 'Chase of the inhabitants of\nAsgarth.' In Danzig, the leader of the hounds is Dyterbjernat, _i.e._\nDiedrick of Bern. Near Fontainebleau, Hugh Capet is supposed to ride,\nhaving, it is said, rushed over the palace with his hounds before\nthe assassination of Henry IV.; and at Blois, the hunt is called the\n'Chasse Macabee.' In some parts of France the wild huntsman is known\nas Harlequin, or Henequin, and in the Franche Comt\u00e9 he is 'Herod in\npursuit of the Holy Innocents.' This piece of folk-lore is widespread,\nand it may be added that in Normandy, the Pyrenees, and in Scotland,\nKing Arthur has the reputation of making nightly rides.\n\nAnother form of spectre animal is the kirk-grim, which is believed\nto haunt many churches. Sometimes it is a dog, sometimes a pig,\nsometimes a horse, the haunting spectre being the spirit of an animal\nburied alive in the churchyard for the purpose of scaring away the\nsacrilegious. Swedish tradition tells how it was customary for the\nearly founders of Christian churches to bury a lamb under the altar.\nIt is said that when anyone enters a church out of service time he may\nchance to see a little lamb spring across the choir and vanish. This\nis the church lamb, and its appearance in the churchyard, especially\nto the grave-digger, is said to betoken the death of a child.[128]\nAccording to a Danish form of this superstition, the kirk-grim dwells\neither in the tower or wherever it can find a place of concealment,\nand is thought to protect the sacred building; and it is said that\nin the streets of Kroskjoberg, a grave-sow, or as it is also called,\na 'gray-sow,' has frequently been seen. It is thought to be the\napparition of a sow formerly buried alive, and to forebode death and\ncalamity.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[105] _Shropshire Folk-lore_, p. 131.\n\n[106] Hunt's _Popular Romances of the West of England_, p. 377.\n\n[107] _Shropshire Folk-lore_, pp. 105, 106.\n\n[108] See _Ibid._ pp. 108-111.\n\n[109] See Hartshorne's _Salopia Antiqua_, p. 522\n\n[110] _Notes and Queries_, 1st S. ii. p. 515.\n\n[111] _Nineteenth Century_, April 1885, p. 625.\n\n[112] See Thorpe's _Northern Mythology_, ii. pp. 289, 290.\n\n[113] _Nineteenth Century_, April 1885, p. 625.\n\n[114] Letourneau's _Sociology_, p. 250.\n\n[115] _Ibid._ p. 264.\n\n[116] _Ibid._ p. 266.\n\n[117] _Book of Days_, ii. p. 433.\n\n[118] See Harland and Wilkinson's _Lancashire Folk-lore_, p. 91.\n\n[119] 'West Sussex Superstitions,' _Folk-lore Record_, i. p. 23.\n\n[120] Henderson's _Folk-lore of Northern Counties_, pp. 274, 275.\n\n[121] Henderson's _Folk-lore of Northern Counties_, p. 275.\n\n[122] See Henderson's _Folk-lore of Northern Counties_, pp. 274-278.\n\n[123] See Wirt Sikes' _British Goblins_, pp. 167-169.\n\n[124] See Roby's _Traditions of Lancashire_; Homerton's _Isles of\nLoch Awe_; Hardwick's _Traditions, Superstitions, and Folk-lore_, pp.\n153-176.\n\n[125] _Northern Mythology_, iii. p. 219.\n\n[126] _Ibid._ ii. pp. 195-202.\n\n[127] _Northern Mythology_, ii. pp. 198, 199.\n\n[128] See Thorpe's _Northern Mythology_, ii. pp. 102, 166, 167.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nPHANTOM LIGHTS\n\n\nStories of mysterious lights suddenly illuminating the nocturnal\ndarkness of unfrequented spots have long been current throughout the\nworld. In the 'Odyssey,' when Athene was mystically present as Odysseus\nand Telemachus were moving the weapons out of the hall (xix. 21-50),\nTelemachus exclaims, 'Father, surely a great marvel is this I behold!\nMeseemeth that the walls of the hall, and the fair spaces between the\npillars, and the beams of pine, and the columns that run aloft, are\nbright as it were with flaming fire. Verily some god is within of them\nthat hold the wide heaven.' Odysseus answers, 'Lo, this is the wont\nof the gods that possess Olympus.' In Theocritus, when Hera sends\nthe snakes to attack the infant Heracles, a mysterious flame shines\nforth. The same phenomenon occurs in the Sagas of Burut Njas, when\nGunnar sings within his tomb. The brilliance of the light which attends\nthe presence of the supernatural is indeed widely diffused, and, as\nMr. Andrew Lang writes,[129] 'Philosophers may dispute whether any\nobjective fact lies at the bottom of this belief, or whether a savage\nsuperstition has survived into Greek epic and idyll and into modern\nghost stories.'\n\nAlthough science has years ago explained many such phosphoric\nappearances as governed by certain atmospheric laws, superstitious\nfancy has not only attributed to them supernatural causes, but\nassociated them with all kinds of weird and romantic tales. According\nto one popular notion, strange lights of this kind are the spirits of\npersons who, for some reason, cannot remain quiet. Thus a spectre known\nas the 'Lady and the Lantern,' has long been said to haunt the beach\nat St. Ives, Cornwall, in stormy weather. The story goes that a lady\nand her child had been saved from a wreck, but the child was swept away\nand drowned, and she is supposed to be hunting for its body. Similar\ntales are told elsewhere, but the object of search is not always the\nsame. A light, for instance, hovers about a stone on the Cornish coast,\nlocally designated 'Madge Figg's Chair,' which is supposed to be the\nghost of a wrecked lady whom Madge stripped of her jewels. In Scotland\nthe appearance of a spectral 'lady of the golden casket' was attended\nby a phantom light, and it is also related how the ghost of a murdered\nwoman is seen by her lover at sea, approaching in the shape of a bright\nlight, which assumes the human form as it draws nearer. She finally\ncalls him, and he springs into her arms, and disappears in a flash of\nfire.[130]\n\nThere is the popular legend of the 'Radiant Boy'--a strange boy with\na shining face, who has been seen in certain Lincolnshire houses and\nelsewhere. This ghost was described to Mr. Baring-Gould[131] by a\nYorkshire farmer, who, as he was riding one night to Thirsk, suddenly\nsaw pass by him a 'radiant boy' on a white horse. To quote his own\nwords, 'there was no sound of footfall as the boy drew nigh. He was\nfirst aware of the approach of the mysterious rider by seeing the\nshadow of himself and his horse flung before him on the high road.\nThinking there might be a carriage with lamps, he was not alarmed till,\nby the shortening of the shadow, he knew that the light must be near\nhim, and then he was surprised to hear no sound. He thereupon turned\nin his saddle, and at the same moment the \"radiant boy\" passed him.\nHe was a child of about eleven, with a fresh bright face. \"Had he any\nclothes on? and if so, what were they like?\" I asked. But the old man\ncould not tell. His astonishment was so great that he took no notice\nof particulars. The boy rode on till he came to a gate which led into\na field; he stooped as if to open the gate, rode through, and all was\ninstantly dark.'\n\nAt the commencement of the present century the little village of Black\nHeddon, near Stamfordham, in Northumberland, was greatly disturbed\nby an apparition known as 'Silky,' from the nature of her dress. She\nsuddenly appeared to benighted travellers, breaking forth upon them in\ndazzling splendour, in the darkest and most lonely parts of the road.\nThis spirit exercised a marvellous power over the brute creation, and\nonce, it is said, waylaid a waggon bringing coals to a farm near Black\nHeddon, and fixed the team upon a bridge, since called, after her,\n'Silky's Brig.' Do what he could, the driver could not make the horses\nmove a step, and there they would have stayed all night had not another\nfarm servant come up with some mountain ash about him. It was generally\nsupposed that Silky, who suddenly disappeared, was the troubled phantom\nof some person who had died miserable because she owned treasure, and\nwas overtaken by death before she had disclosed its hiding-place.\n\nAn old barn situated near Birchen Tower, Hollinwood, which was noted\nfor the apparition of Madame Beswick on dark and wintry nights, at\ntimes, it is said, appears to be on fire, a red glare of glowing heat\nbeing observable through the loopholes and crevices of the building.\nSometimes the sight is so threatening that the neighbours will raise an\nalarm that the barn is in flames. But when the premises are searched,\neverything is in order, and nothing found wrong.[132] And a Welsh\nromance tells how, after Howel Sele slew his cousin Glendower, and\nburied him in 'a broad and blasted oak, scorched by the lightning's\nvivid glare,'\n\n    Pale lights on Cader's rocks were seen,\n    And midnight voices heard to moan.\n\nSuch phantom lights are not confined to land, and most of the tales of\nspectre ships speak of their being seen by the affrighted crews. In the\n'Salem Spectre Ship' we are told how\n\n    The night grew thick, but a phantom light\n    Around her path was shed.\n\nThey are generally dreaded as foreboding a catastrophe, and have given\nrise to a host of curious stories. A light is said to hover about in\nSennen Cove, which is thought to be an ill-omened apparition; and a\nWelsh story speaks of a ghost, the 'Cyhyraeth,' that appears on the\nbeach, in a light, with groanings and cries.[133] Flames are reported\nto issue from the Eider River, and from several lakes in Germany.\nWhere ships have been wrecked, blue lights are supposed to faintly\nglimmer, occasionally accompanied by the spirits of wrecked or injured\npersons. A notable instance is told of Sable Island,[134] where, with\nthe leaping flames, is seen the 'Lady of Copeland' wrecked and murdered\nby pirates from the Amelie transport. She has one finger missing on her\nhand.\n\nSometimes weird lights flickering in solitary places are thought to be\nthe unhappy spirits of wicked persons who have no rest in the grave.\nMilton refers to this fancy in his 'Paradise Lost' (ix. 634):\n\n                            A wandering fire,\n    Compact of unctuous vapour, which the night\n    Condenses, and the cold environs round,\n    Kindled through agitation to a flame,\n    Which oft, they say, some evil spirit attends,\n    Hovering and blazing with delusive light,\n    Misleads the amazed night wanderer from his way\n    To bogs and mires; and oft through pond or pool\n    There swallowed up and lost from succour far.\n\nHence they were doomed to wander backwards and forwards carrying\na light. A tradition current in Normandy says that a pale light\noccasionally seen by travellers is the unquiet spirit of some\nunfortunate woman who, as a punishment for her intrigues with a\nminister of the Church, is doomed to this existence. There are various\nversions of this story, and one formerly current in this country tells\nhow the hovering flame--the cause of terror to many--is the soul of a\npriest who has been condemned to expiate his vows of perpetual chastity\nby thus haunting the scenes of his disobedience. Brand, quoting from an\nold work on 'Lights that Lead People out of their Ways in the Night,'\ninforms us that the lights which are seen in churchyards and Moorish\nplaces were represented by the Popish clergy to be 'souls come out of\npurgatory all in flame, to move the people to pray for their entire\ndeliverance, by which they gulled them of much money to say mass for\nthem, everyone thinking it might be the soul of his or her deceased\nrelations.'\n\nAccording to another explanation, it is believed on the Continent that\nthe ghosts of those who in their lifetime were guilty of removing their\nneighbours' landmarks are fated to roam hither and thither, lantern in\nhand, 'sometimes impelled to replace the old boundary mark, then to\nmove it again, constantly changing their course with their changing\npurpose.' A Swedish tradition adds that such a spirit may be heard\nsaying in a harsh, hoarse voice, 'It is right! it is right! it is\nright!' But the next moment qualms of conscience and anguish seize him,\nand he then exclaims, 'It is wrong! it is wrong! it is wrong!'[135]\nIt is also said that these lights are the souls of land-measurers,\nwho, having acted dishonestly in their business, are trying to remedy\nthe wrong measurements they made. A German legend tells how, at the\npartition of the land, there arose between the villages of Alversdorf\nand R\u00f6st, in South Ditmarschen, great disputes. One man gave fraudulent\nmeasurements, but after his death he wandered about as a fire sprite. A\nflame, the height of a man, was seen dancing about till the moor dried\nup. Whenever it flared up higher than usual, the people would cry out,\n'Dat is de Scheelvalgt'--that is the land-divider. There is a tale told\nof a certain land-measurer near Farsum, in the Netherlands, who had in\nhis lifetime acted dishonestly when he had a piece of land to measure.\nHe suffered himself 'to be bribed by one or other, and then allotted\nto the party more than was just, for which offence he was condemned\nafter death to wander as a burning man with a burning measuring-staff.'\n\nPopular fancy, too, has long identified phantom lights as being the\nsouls of unbaptized children. Because such souls cannot enter heaven,\nthey make their abodes in forests, and in dark and lonely places, where\nthey mourn over their hard lot. If at night they chance to meet anyone,\nthey run up to him, and walk on before to show him the way to some\nwater where they may be baptized. The mysterious lady, Frau Bertha, is\never attended by troops of unbaptized children, whom she takes with her\nwhen she joins the wild huntsman. One tradition relates how a Dutch\nparson, happening to return home later than usual, was confronted with\nno less than three of these fiery phenomena. Remembering them to be\nthe souls of unbaptized children, he thoughtfully stretched out his\nhand, and pronounced the words of baptism over them. But, much to his\nunexpected surprise, in the same instant hundreds of these moving\nlights made their appearance, which so frightened him that, forgetting\nhis good intentions, he ran home as fast as he could. In Ireland\nunbaptized children have been represented as sitting blindfolded within\nfairy moats, the peasantry supposing such souls 'go into nought.' A\nsomewhat similar idea may be found in Longfellow's 'Evangeline,' where\nwe have introduced among the _contes_ of an Arcadian village notary\nallusion to\n\n    The white L\u00e9tiche, the ghost of a child unchristened,\n    Died, and was doomed to haunt unseen the chambers of children.\n\nClosely allied with the notion of phantom lights are the strange\nphosphoric appearances said occasionally to be seen about the dying.\nIn Russia, the soul under certain circumstances is believed to assume\nthe form of a flame, and such a ghostly apparition cannot be banished\ntill the necessary prayers have been offered up.[136] According to\na Sussex death-omen, lights of a circular form seen in the air are\nsignificant, and it is supposed that the death of sick persons is\nshown by the prognostic of 'shell-fire.' This is a sort of lambent\nflame, which seems to rise from the bodies of those who are ill, and\nto envelope the bed. On one occasion, considerable alarm was created\nin a Sussex village by a pale light being observed to move over the\nbed of a sick person, and after flickering for some time in different\nparts of the room, to vanish through the window. But the difficulty\nwas eventually explained, for the light was found to proceed from a\nluminous insect--the small glow-worm.[137] Marsh[138] relates how a\npale moonlight-coloured glimmer was once seen playing round the head\nof a dying girl about an hour and a half before her last breath. The\nlight proceeded from her head, and was faint and tremulous like the\nreflection of summer lightning, which at first those watching her\nmistook it to be. Another case, reported by a medical man in Ireland,\nwas that of a consumptive patient, in whose cabin strange lights had\nbeen seen, filling the neighbourhood with alarm. To quote a further\ninstance, from the mouth of a patient in a London hospital, some time\nsince, the nurses observed issuing a pale bluish flame, and soon after\nthe man died. The frightened nurses were at a loss to account for this\nunusual sight, but a scientific explanation of the phenomenon ascribed\nit to phosphoretted hydrogen, a result of incipient decomposition.[139]\n\nDante Rossetti, in his 'Blessed Damozel,' when he describes her as\nlooking down from heaven towards the earth that 'spins like a fretful\nimage,' whence she awaits the coming of her lover, depicts the souls\nmounting up to God as passing by her 'like thin flames.'\n\nAnother form of this superstitious fancy is the corpse-candle, or\n'tomb-fire,' which is invariably a death-warning. It sometimes appears\n'as a stately flambeau, stalking along unsupported, burning with a\nghastly blue flame. Sometimes it is a plain tallow \"dip\" in the hand\nof a ghost; and when the ghost is seen distinctly, it is recognised as\nthat of some person still living, who will now soon die[140]--in fact,\na wraith.' Occasionally the light issues from the person's mouth, or\nnostrils. The size of the candle indicates the age of the person who is\nabout to die, being large when it is a full-grown person whose death\nis foretold, small when it is a child, still smaller when an infant.\nWhen two candles together are seen, one of which is large and the\nother small, it is a mother and child who are to die. When the flame is\nwhite the doomed person is a woman, when red a man. A Carmarthenshire\ntradition relates how one evening, when the coach which runs between\nLlandilo and Carmarthen was passing by Golden Grove, the property of\nthe Earl of Cawdor, three corpse-candles were observed on the surface\nof the water gliding down the stream which runs near the road. A few\ndays afterwards, just as many men were drowned there. Such a light,\ntoo, has long been thought to hover near the grave of the drowned,\nreminding us of Moore's lines--\n\n    Where lights, like charnel meteors, burned the distant wave,\n    Bluely as o'er some seaman's grave,\n\nand stories of such uncanny appearances have been told of nearly every\nvillage churchyard.\n\nIt should be added that, according to a popular idea, the presence of\nghosts was announced, in bygone years, by an alteration in the tint of\nthe lights which happened to be burning--an item of folk-lore alluded\nto in 'Richard III.' (Act v. sc. 3), where the tyrant exclaims as he\nawakens--\n\n    The lights burn blue. It is now dead midnight,\n    Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh.\n\n           *       *       *       *       *\n\n    Methought the souls of all that I had murder'd\n    Came to my tent.\n\nSo in 'Julius C\u00e6sar,' (Act iv. sc. 3), Brutus, on seeing the ghost of\nC\u00e6sar, exclaims:\n\n    How ill this taper burns! Ha! Who comes here?\n\nPhantom lights have also been associated with buildings, as in the case\nof the ancient chapel of Roslin, founded in the year 1446 by William\nSt. Clair, Prince of Orkney. It is believed that whenever any of the\nfounder's descendants are about to depart this life, the chapel appears\nto be on fire, a weird and terrible occurrence graphically portrayed by\nHarold's song in 'The Lay of the Last Minstrel':\n\n    O'er Roslin all that dreary night,\n      A wondrous blaze was seen to gleam;\n    'Twas broader than the watch-fire light,\n      And redder than the bright moonbeam.\n\n    It glared on Roslin's castled rock,\n      It ruddied all the copse-wood glen;\n    'Twas seen from Dryden's groves of oak,\n      And seen from cavern'd Hawthornden.\n\n    Seem'd all on fire that chapel proud,\n      Where Roslin's chiefs uncoffin'd lie;\n    Each Baron, for a sable shroud,\n      Sheathed in his iron panoply.\n\n    Seem'd all on fire, within, around,\n      Deep sacristy and altar's pale;\n    Shone every pillar foliage-bound,\n      And glimmer'd all the dead men's mail.\n\n    Blazed battlement and pinnet high,\n      Blazed every rose-carved buttress fair;\n    So still they blaze when fate is nigh,\n      The lordly line of Hugh St. Clair.\n\nBut notwithstanding the fact that the last 'Roslin,' as he was\ncalled, died in 1778, and the estates passed into the possession of\nthe Erskines, Earls of Rosslyn, the old tradition has not yet been\nextinguished.[141] Sir Walter Scott also tells us that the death of\nthe head of a Highland family is sometimes announced by a chain of\nlights, of different colours, called Dr'eug, or death of the Druid.\nThe direction which it takes is supposed to mark the place of the\nfuneral.[142] A correspondent of 'Notes and Queries' gives a curious\naccount of a house at Taunton which possessed 'a luminous chamber,'\nfor, as common report said, 'the room had a light of its own.' As an\neye-witness observed, 'A central window was generally illuminated.'\nAll the other windows were dark, but from this was a wan, dreary light\nvisible; and as the owners had deserted the place, and it had no\noccupant, the lighted window became a puzzle.\n\nWith the North American tribes one form of spiritual manifestation is\nfire; and among the Hurons, a female spirit, who was supposed to cause\nmuch of their sickness, appeared like a flame of fire. Of the New\nEngland Indians it is related that 'they have a remarkable observation\nof a flame that appears before the death of an Indian, upon their\nwigwams, in the dead of night. Whenever this appears, there will be a\ndeath.'[143] The Eskimos believe that the Inue, or powerful spirits,\n'generally have the appearance of a fire or bright light, and to see\nthem is very dangerous, particularly as foreshadowing the death of a\nrelation.'[144]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[129] The _Nineteenth Century_, 'Comparative Study of Ghost Stories,'\n1885, xvii. pp. 629, 630.\n\n[130] Rev. W. Gregor, _Folk-lore of North-East of Scotland_, 1881, p.\n69.\n\n[131] _Yorkshire Oddities_, ii. p. 105.\n\n[132] See Ingram's _Haunted Homes_, 2nd S. pp. 29, 30.\n\n[133] See Wirt Sikes' _British Goblins_, pp. 219-221.\n\n[134] 'Secrets of Sable Island,' _Harper's Magazine_.\n\n[135] See Thorpe's _Northern Mythology_, ii. pp. 97, 202, 211; iii. pp.\n11, 158, 268.\n\n[136] _Songs of the Russian People_, 1872, p. 116.\n\n[137] _Folk-lore Record_, 1878, i. p. 54.\n\n[138] _Evolution of Light from the Living Subject._\n\n[139] _Transactions Cardiff Natural Society_, iv. p. 5.\n\n[140] Wirt Sikes, _British Goblins_, p. 239.\n\n[141] See Ingram's _Haunted Homes_, 2nd S. pp. 219-221.\n\n[142] See 'Essay on Fairy Superstitions' in the _Border Minstrelsy_.\n\n[143] Rink's _Tales and Traditions of the Eskimos_, p. 43.\n\n[144] Josselyn's _Two Voyages_, p. 133.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nTHE HEADLESS GHOST\n\n\nLocalities where any fatal accident has happened, or murder been\ncommitted, are frequently supposed to be haunted by that uncanny\napparition known as 'the headless ghost.' Many curious tales are still\ntold by the peasantry of this mysterious spectre, whose weird movements\nhave long been the subject of comment. Sir Walter Scott, it may be\nremembered, speaking of the Irish dullahan, writes: 'It puts me in\nmind of a spectre at Drumlanrick Castle, of no less a person than the\nDuchess of Queensberry--\"Fair Kitty, blooming, young, and gay\"--who,\ninstead of setting fire to the world in mama's chariot, amuses herself\nwith wheeling her own head in a wheelbarrow through the great gallery.'\n\nBut it has often puzzled the folk-lorist why ghosts should assume this\nform, although the idea is by no means a modern one, for, as Dr. Tylor\nhas pointed out,[145] a people of wide celebrity are Pliny's Blemmy\u00e6,\nsaid 'to be headless, and accordingly to have their mouths and eyes in\ntheir breasts--creatures over whom Prester John reigned in Asia, and\nwho dwelt far and wide in South America.' Stories, too, like that of\nSt. Denis, who is said to have walked from Paris, _sans t\u00eate_, to the\nplace which bears his name, show that the living, as well as the dead,\noccasionally managed to do without their heads--a strange peculiarity\nwhich Kornmann, in his 'De Miraculis Vivorum,' would attempt to account\nfor philosophically. Princess Marie Lichtenstein, in her 'History of\nHolland House,' tells us that one room of this splendid old mansion\nis believed to be haunted by Lord Holland, the first of his name, and\nthe chief builder of Holland House. To quote her words, 'The gilt\nroom is said to be tenanted by the solitary ghost of its just lord,\nwho, according to tradition, issues forth at midnight from behind a\nsecret door, and walks slowly through the scenes of former triumphs\nwith his head in his hand. To add to this mystery, there is a tale of\nthree spots of blood on one side of the recess whence he issues--three\nspots which can never be effaced.' Such a strange act, on the part of\nthe dead, is generally regarded as a very bad omen. The time of the\nheadless ghost's appearance is always midnight, and in Crofton Croker's\n'Fairy Legends of Ireland' it is thus described:\n\n    'Tis midnight; how gloomy and dark!\n      By Jupiter, there's not a star!\n    'Tis fearful! 'tis awful! and hark!\n      What sound is that comes from afar?\n\n    A coach! but the coach has no head;\n      And the horses are headless as it,\n    Of the driver the same may be said,\n      And the passengers inside who sit.\n\nAccording to the popular opinion, there is no authority to prove that\nheadless people are unable to speak; on the contrary, a variation\nof the story of 'The Golden Mountain,' given in a note to the\n'Kinderm\u00e4rchen,' relates how a servant without a head informed the\nfisherman (who was to achieve the adventure) of the enchantment of\nthe king's daughter, and of the mode of liberating her. There is the\nBelludo, a Spanish ghost mentioned by Washington Irving in his 'Tales\nof the Alhambra.' It issues forth in the dead of night, and scours the\navenues of the Alhambra, and the streets of Granada, in the shape of\na headless horse, pursued by six hounds, with terrible yellings and\nhowlings. It is said to be the spirit of a Moorish king, who killed\nhis six sons, who, in revenge, hunt him in the shape of hounds at\nnight-time.\n\nIn some cases, as it has been humorously observed, the headless ghosts\nof well-known persons have continued to set up their carriage after\ndeath. Thus, for years past, it has been firmly believed that Lady Anne\nBoleyn rides down the avenue of Blickling Park once a year, with her\nbloody head in her lap, sitting in a hearse-like coach drawn by four\nheadless horses, and attended by coachmen and attendants, who have, out\nof compliment to their mistress, also left their heads behind them.\nNor, if tradition is to be believed, is her father more at rest than\nshe, for Sir Thomas Boleyn is said to be obliged to cross forty bridges\nto avoid the torments of the furies. Like his daughter, he is reported\nto drive about in a coach and four with headless horses, carrying\nhis head under his arm.[146] Young Lord Dacre, who is said to have\nbeen murdered at Thetford, through the contrivance of his guardian,\nSir Richard Fulmerston, in 1569, by the falling of a wooden horse,\npurposely rendered insecure, used to prance up and down on the ghost of\na headless rocking-horse.\n\nAnother romantic story is told[147] of a large field at Great Melton,\ndivided from the Yare by a plantation, along which the old Norwich road\nran. 'Close to the edge of where the road is said to have run is a deep\npit or hole of water, locally reputed to be fathomless. Every night\nat midnight, and every day at noon, a carriage drawn by four horses,\ndriven by headless coachmen and footmen, and containing four headless\nladies in white, rises silently and dripping wet from the pool, flits\nstately and silently round the field, and sinks as silently into the\npool again.' The story goes that long, long ago, a bridal party driving\nalong the old Norwich Road were accidentally upset into the deep\nhole, and were never seen again. Strangely enough the same story is\ntold of fields near Bury St. Edmunds, and at Leigh, Dorsetshire.[148]\nAnother Norfolk story, amusingly told by the late Cuthbert Bede,[149]\ninforms us how, 'on the anniversary of the death of the gentleman whose\nspectre he is supposed to be, his ghostship drives up to his old family\nmansion. He drives through the wall, carriage and horses and all, and\nis not seen again for a twelvemonth. He leaves, however, the traces\nof his visit behind him; for, in the morning, the stones of the wall\nthrough which he had ridden over-night are found to be loosened and\nfallen; and though the wall is constantly repaired, yet the stones are\nas constantly loosened.' In the little village of Acton, Suffolk, it\nwas currently reported not many years ago that on certain occasions\nthe park gates were wont to fly open at midnight 'withouten hands,'\nand that a carriage drawn by four spectral horses, and accompanied by\nheadless grooms and outriders, proceeded with great rapidity from the\npark to a spot called 'the nursery corner,' a spot where tradition\naffirms a very bloody engagement took place in olden times, when the\nRomans were governors of England.[150] A similar tale is related of\nCaistor Castle, the seat of the Falstofs, where the headless apparition\ndrives round the courtyard, and carries away some unearthly visitors.\n\nAt Beverley, in Yorkshire, the headless ghost of Sir Joceline Percy\ndrives four headless horses at night, above its streets, passing over\na certain house which was said to contain a chest with one hundred\nnails in it, one of which dropped out every year. The reason assigned\nfor this nocturnal disturbance is attributed to the fact that Sir\nJoceline once rode on horseback into Beverley Minster. It has long been\nconsidered dangerous to meet such spectral teams, for fear of being\ncarried off by them, so violent and threatening are their movements. In\n'Rambles in Northumberland' we are told how, 'when the death-hearse,\ndrawn by headless horses, and driven by a headless driver, is seen\nabout midnight proceeding rapidly, but without noise, towards the\nchurchyard, the death of some considerable personage in the parish is\nsure to happen at no distant period.'\n\nNight after night, too, when it is sufficiently dark, the headless\ncoach whirls along the rough approach to Langley Hall, near Durham,\ndrawn by black and fiery steeds; and many years ago a headless boggart\nwas supposed to haunt Preston streets and neighbouring lanes. Its\npresence was often accompanied by the rattling of chains. It presently\nchanged its form, and whether it appeared as a woman or a black dog,\nit was always headless. The story went that this uncanny apparition\nwas at length 'laid' by some magical or religious ceremony in Walton\nchurchyard.[151]\n\nMany spots where suicides have been buried are supposed to be\nhaunted by headless ghosts attired in white grave-clothes. Some few\nyears ago, as a peasant was passing in a waggon with three horses a\n'four-lane-end' in Lyneal Lane, Ellesmere, Shropshire, where a man was\nburied with a forked stake run through the body to keep it down, a\nwoman was seen without a head. The horses took fright, and started off,\noverturning the waggon, and pitching the man into the Drumby Hole,\nwhere the waggon and shaft-horse fell upon him. The other horses broke\nloose and galloped home, where they arrived covered with foam, and on\na search being made, the dead body of the waggoner was found in the\nhole.[152] Exactly twelve months afterwards, his son, it is said, was\nkilled by the same horses on the same spot. As Miss Jackson points out,\nthe headless ghost in this story is of a different sex from the person\nwhose death is supposed to cause its restlessness. The same, she adds,\nis the case 'with the ghost of the Mary Way, a now almost forgotten\nspectre of more than a hundred years ago. The figure of a woman in\nwhite was supposed to haunt the spot where a murderer was buried--more\nprobably a suicide--at the cross roads about two miles from Wenlock, on\nthe Bridgnorth road, which is known as the \"Mary Way,\" no doubt from\nsome chapel, or processional route, in honour of the Virgin.' Another\nstory is told of the Baschurch neighbourhood, where the ghost of a man\nwho hanged himself at Nesscliff is to be seen 'riding about in his trap\nat night without a head.'\n\nA tragic case is recorded by Crofton Croker, who tells how, many\nyears ago, a clergyman belonging to St. Catharine's Church, Dublin,\nresided at the old Castle of Donore, in the vicinity of that city.\nFrom melancholy, or some other cause, he put an end to his existence\nby hanging himself out of a window near the top of the castle. After\nhis death, a coach, sometimes driven by a coachman without a head, and\noccasionally drawn by headless horses, was observed at night driving\nfuriously by Roper's Rest.\n\nReferring to spots where murders have taken place, a Shropshire\ntradition informs us how, at a certain house at Hampton's Wood, near\nEllesmere, six illegitimate children were murdered by their parents,\nand buried in a garden. But, soon after this unnatural event, a\nghost in the form of a man, sometimes headless, at other times not\nso, haunted the stables, rode the horses to water, and talked to\nthe waggoner. Once it appeared to a young lady who was passing on\nhorseback, and rode before her on her horse. Eventually, after much\ndifficulty, this troublesome ghost was laid, but 'the poor minister was\nso exhausted by the task that he died.'[153]\n\nThere is a haunted room at Walton Abbey frequented by a spectre known\nas 'The Headless Nun of Walton.' The popular belief is that this is the\nunquiet spirit of a transgressing nun of the twelfth century, but some\naffirm it to be that of a lady brutally beheaded in the seventeenth\ncentury.[154] Another instance is that of Calverley Hall, in the same\ncounty. In 'The Yorkshireman' for January 5, 1884, the particulars of\nthis strange apparition are given, from which it appears that Walter\nCalverley, on April 23, 1604, went into a fit of insane frenzy of\njealousy, or pretended to do so. Money-lenders were pressing him hard,\nand he had become desperate. Rushing madly into the house, he plunged a\ndagger into one and then into another of his children, and then tried\nto take the life of their mother, a crime for which he was pressed to\ndeath at York Castle. But his spirit could not rest, and he was often\nseen galloping about the district at night on a headless horse, being\ngenerally accompanied by a number of followers similarly mounted, who\nattempted to run down any poor benighted folks whom they chanced to\nmeet. These spectral horsemen nearly always disappeared in a cave in\nthe wood, but this cave has now been quarried away.[155]\n\nIt would seem that in years gone by one of the punishments assigned\nto evil doers guilty of a lesser crime than that of murder, was their\nceaselessly frequenting those very spots where in their lifetime they\nhad committed their wicked acts, carrying their heads under their arms.\nNumerous tales of this kind have been long current on the Continent,\nand at the present day are told by the simple-minded peasantry of many\na German village with the most implicit faith. It is much the same\nin this country, and Mr. Henderson[156] has given several amusing\nanecdotes. At Dalton, near Thirsk, there was an old barn, said to be\nhaunted by a headless woman. One night a tramp went into it to sleep;\nat midnight he was awakened by a light, and, sitting up, he saw a\nwoman coming towards him from the end of the barn, holding her head\nin her hands like a lantern, with light streaming out of the eyes,\nnostrils, and mouth. Hunt, too, in his 'Popular Romances,' notices this\nsuperstition as existing in the West of England; and Mrs. Latham, in\nher 'Sussex Superstitions,' tells us how spirits are reported to walk\nabout without their heads; others carry them under their arms; and one\nhaunting a dark lane is said to have 'a ball of fire upon its shoulders\nin lieu of the natural finial.' At Haddington, Worcestershire, there\nis an avenue of trees locally known as 'Lady Winter's Walk,' where, it\nis said, the lady of Thomas Winter, who was obliged to conceal himself\non account of his share in the Gunpowder Plot, was in the habit of\nawaiting her husband's further visits, and here the headless spectre of\nher ladyship used to be seen occasionally pacing up and down beneath\nthe sombre shade of the aged trees.\n\nLady Wilde[157] has given a laughable specimen of the headless ghost as\nbelieved in by the Irish peasantry. One Denis Molony, a cow-jobber, was\non his way to the great fair at Navan when he was overtaken by night.\nHe laid down under a hedge, but 'at that moment a loud moaning and\nscreaming came to his ear, and a woman rushed past him all in white,\nas if a winding sheet were round her, and her cries of despair were\nterrible to hear. Then, after her, a great black coach came thundering\nalong the road, drawn by two black horses. But when Denis looked close\nat them he saw that the horses had no heads, and the coachman had no\nhead; and out sprang two men from the coach, and they had no heads\neither; and they seized the woman and carried her by force into the\ncarriage and drove off.'\n\nIt appears that the woman Denis saw was 'an evil liver and a wicked\nsinner, and no doubt the devils were carrying her off from the\nchurchyard, for she had been buried that morning. To make sure, they\nwent next morning to the churchyard to examine the grave, and there,\nsure enough, was the coffin, but it was open, and not a trace of the\ndead woman was to be seen. So they knew that an evil fate had come on\nher, and that her soul was gone to eternal tortures.'[158]\n\nConnected also with the legend of the headless ghost is the old belief\nthat persons prior to their death occasionally appear to their friends\nwithout their heads. Dr. Ferrier, in his 'Theory of Apparitions,' tells\nof an old Northern chieftain who informed a relative of his 'that\nthe door of the room in which they and some ladies were sitting had\nappeared to open, and that a little woman without a head had entered\nthe room; and that the apparition indicated the sudden death of some\nperson of his acquaintance.' The 'Glasgow Chronicle' (January, 1826)\nrecords how, on the occasion of some silk-weavers being out of work,\nmourning-coaches drawn by headless horses were seen about the town;\nand some years ago a very unpleasant kind of headless ghost used to\ndrive every Saturday night through the town of Doneraile, Ireland,\nand to stop at the doors of different houses, when, if anyone were so\nfoolhardy as to open the door, a basin of blood was instantly flung in\nhis face.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[145] _Primitive Culture_, i. p. 390.\n\n[146] See _The Norfolk Antiquarian Miscellany_, 1877, i. pp. 288, 289.\n\n[147] _Eastern Counties Collectanea_, p. 3.\n\n[148] See _Notes and Queries_, 1st S. xii. p. 486, for another hole or\npit story.\n\n[149] _The Curate of Cranston, and other Stories_, 1862, 'Carriage and\nFour Ghosts.'\n\n[150] _Notes and Queries_, 1st S. v. p. 295.\n\n[151] Hardwick's _Traditions, Superstitions, and Folk-lore_, p. 130.\n\n[152] _Shropshire Folk-lore_, p. 112.\n\n[153] _Shropshire Folk-lore_, pp. 113, 114.\n\n[154] A full account will be found in a paper by Mr. F. Ross, in the\n_Leeds Mercury_, 1884, entitled 'Yorkshire Legends and Traditions.'\n\n[155] See Ingram's _Haunted Homes_, 2nd S. pp. 72-78.\n\n[156] _Folk-lore of the Northern Counties_, pp. 326-328.\n\n[157] _Ancient Cures, Charms, and Usages of Ireland_, pp. 163, 164.\n\n[158] See notes to Crofton Croker's _Fairy Legends and Traditions of\nthe South of Ireland_, where much curious information will be found on\nthis subject.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nPHANTOM BUTTERFLIES\n\n\nDeparted souls, according to a Cornish piece of folk-lore, are\noccasionally said to take the form of moths, and in Yorkshire, writes\na correspondent of 'Notes and Queries,' 'the country people used,\nand perhaps do still, call night-flying white moths, especially the\n_Hepialus humuli_, which feeds while in the grub state on the roots\nof docks and other coarse plants, \"souls.\"' By the Slavonians the\nbutterfly seems to have been universally accepted as an emblem of the\nsoul. Mr. Ralston, in his 'Songs of the Russian People' (p. 117), says\nthat in the Government of Yaroslaw one of its names is _dushichka_,\na caressing diminutive of _dusha_, the soul. In that of Kherson it\nis believed that if the usual alms are not distributed at a funeral,\nthe dead man's soul will reveal itself to its relatives in the form\nof a moth flying about the flame of a candle. The day after receiving\nsuch a warning visit they call together the poor and distribute food\namong them. In Bohemia there is a popular tradition that if the first\nbutterfly a man sees in the spring-time is a white one, he is destined\nto die within the year. According to a Servian belief, the soul of a\nwitch often leaves her body while she is asleep, and flies abroad in\nthe shape of a butterfly. If, during its absence, her body be turned\nround, so that her feet are placed where her head was before, the soul\nwill not be able to find her mouth, and so will be shut out from her\nbody. Thereupon the witch will die. The Bulgarians believe that at\ndeath the soul assumes the form of a butterfly, and flits about on the\nnearest tree till the funeral is over. The Karens of Burma 'will run\nabout pretending to catch a sick man's wandering soul, or, as they say\nwith the ancient Greeks, his \"butterfly,\" and at last drop it down upon\nhis head.'[159] The idea is an old one, and, as Gubernatis remarks\nin his 'Zoological Mythology' (ii. 213), 'the butterfly was both a\nphallic symbol and a funereal one, with promises of resurrection and\ntransformation; the souls of the departed were represented in the forms\nof butterflies carried towards Elysium by the dolphin.' According to\nanother belief, the soul was supposed to take the form of a bee, an\nold tradition telling us that 'the bees alone of all animals descended\nfrom Paradise.' In the Engadine, in Switzerland, it is believed that\nthe souls of men emigrate from the world and return to it in the forms\nof bees. In this district bees are considered messengers of death. When\nsomeone dies, the bee is invoked as follows, 'almost as if requesting\nthe soul of the departed,' says De Gubernatis, 'to watch for ever over\nthe living':[160]\n\n    Bienchen, unser Herr ist todt,\n    Verlass mich nicht in meiner Noth.\n\nIn Russia gnats and flies are often looked upon as equally spiritual\ncreatures. 'In Little Russia,' says Mr. Ralston,[161] 'the old women of\na family will often, after returning from a funeral, sit up all night\nwatching a dish in which water and honey in it have been placed, in\nthe belief that the spirit of their dead relative will come in the form\nof a fly, and sip the proffered liquid.'\n\nAmong North American tribes we are told how the Ojibways believe that\ninnumerable spirits appear in the varied forms of insect life,[162]\nwhile some tribes supposed that 'most souls went to a common resort\nnear their living habitat, but returned in the daytime in the shape of\nflies in order to get something to eat.'[163]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[159] Tylor's _Primitive Culture_, i. p. 437.\n\n[160] _Zoological Mythology_, ii. p. 218.\n\n[161] _Folk-songs of the Russian People_, p. 118.\n\n[162] Dorman's _Primitive Superstitions_, p. 23.\n\n[163] _Ibid._ p. 42.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nRAISING GHOSTS\n\n\nThe trade of raising spirits has probably existed at all times in which\nsuperstition has been sufficiently prevalent to make such a practice a\nsource of power or of profit, and nations--the most polished as well as\nthe most barbarous--have admitted the claims of persons who professed\nto be able to control spirits. One of the most graphic illustrations of\nan incantation for evoking spirits is in connection with the appearance\nof the shade of Darius in the 'Pers\u00e6' of \u00c6schylus, which is very nobly\ngiven. After receiving news of the great defeat of her son Xerxes at\nSalamis, Atossa has prepared the requisite offerings to the dead--milk\nfrom a white cow, honey, water from a pure fountain, unadulterated\nwine, olives, and flowers--and she instructs the ancient counsellors of\nthe deceased king to evoke his shade. They who form the tragic chorus\ncommence an incantation from which we quote the following:\n\n    Royal lady, Persia's pride,\n    Thine offerings in earth's chamber hide;\n    We, meanwhile, with hymns will sue\n    The powers who guard hell's shadowy crew,\n    Till they to our wish incline.\n    Gods below, ye choir divine,\n    Earth, Hermes, and thou King of night,\n    Send his spirit forth to light!\n    If he knows worse ills impending,\n    He alone can teach their ending.\n              &c., &c., &c.\n\nThe incantation is successful, but Darius assures his friends that exit\nfrom below is far from easy, and that the subterranean gods are far\nmore willing to take than to let go. Indeed, the raising of spirits\nwas a trick of magic much in use in ancient times, and the scene that\ntook place at Endor when Saul had recourse to a professor of the art\nis familiar to all. The Egyptian magicians, Simon Magus, and Elymas\nthe sorcerer, all, it is said, exhibited such corporeal deceptions.\nTertullian, in his tract 'De Anima,' inquires whether a departed soul,\neither at his own will, or in obedience to the command of another,\ncan return from the 'Inferi'? After discussing the subject, he sums up\nthus: 'If certain souls have been recalled into their bodies by the\npower of God, as manifest proof of His prerogative, that is no argument\nthat a similar power should be conferred on audacious magicians,\nfallacious dreamers, and licentious poets.'\n\nAmong certain Australian tribes the necromants are called Birraark. It\nis said that a Birraark was supposed to be initiated by the 'mrarts'\n(ghosts) when they met him wandering in the bush. It was from the\nghosts that he obtained replies to questions concerning events passing\nat a distance, or yet to happen, which might be of interest or moment\nto his tribe. An account of a spiritual s\u00e9ance in the bush is given in\n'Kamilaroi and Kurnai' (p. 254): 'The fires were let down; the Birraark\nuttered the cry \"Coo-ee\" at intervals. At length a distant reply was\nheard, and shortly afterwards the sound as of persons jumping on the\nground in succession. A voice was then heard in the gloom asking in\na strange intonation, \"What is wanted?\" At the termination of the\ns\u00e9ance, the spirit voice said, \"We are going.\" Finally, the Birraark\nwas found in the top of an almost inaccessible tree, apparently asleep.'\n\nIn Japan, ghosts can be raised in various ways. One mode is to 'put\ninto an andon' (a paper lantern in a frame) 'a hundred rushlights, and\nrepeat an incantation of a hundred lines. One of these rushlights is\ntaken out at the end of each line, and the would-be ghost-seer then\ngoes out in the dark with one light still burning, and blows it out,\nwhen the ghost ought to appear. Girls who have lost their lovers by\ndeath often try that sorcery.'[164]\n\nShakespeare has several allusions to the popular belief of certain\npersons being able to exorcise, or raise, spirits, and he represents\nLigarius, in 'Julius C\u00e6sar' (iv. 2) as saying:\n\n                            Soul of Rome!\n    Brave son, derived from honourable loins!\n    Thou, like an exorcist, has conjured up\n    My mortified spirit. Now bid me run,\n    And I will strive with things impossible;\n    Yea, get the better of them.\n\nIn days gone by, it would seem, numerous formalities were observed\nby the person whose object was to 'constrain' some spirit to appear\nbefore him. It was necessary to fix upon a spot proper for such a\npurpose, 'which had to be either in a subterranean vault hung round\nwith black, and lighted by a magical torch, or else in the centre of\nsome thick wood or desert, or upon some extensive unfrequented plain,\nwhere several roads met, or amidst the ruins of ancient castles,\nabbeys, monasteries, &c., or amongst the rocks on the sea-shore, in\nsome private detached churchyard, or any other solemn melancholy\nplace, between the hours of twelve and one in the morning, either\nwhen the moon shone very bright, or else when the elements were\ndisturbed with storms of thunder, lightning, wind, and rain, for in\nthese places, times, and seasons it was contended that spirits could\nwith less difficulty manifest themselves to mortal eyes, and continue\nvisible with the least pain in this elemental external world.'[165]\nGreat importance was attached to the magic circle in the invocation\nof spirits, the mode of procedure being thus: 'A piece of ground was\nusually chosen, nine feet square, at the full extent of which parallel\nlines were drawn, one within the other, having sundry crosses and\ntriangles described between them, close to which was formed the first\nor outer circle; then, about half a foot within the same, a second\ncircle was described, and within that another square correspondent\nto the first, the centre of which was the spot where the master and\nassociate were to be placed. The vacancies formed by the various lines\nand angles of the figure were filled up by the holy names of God,\nhaving crosses and triangles described between them.... The reason\nassigned for the use of circles was, that so much ground being blessed\nand consecrated by such holy words and ceremonies as they made use of\nin forming it, had a secret force to expel all evil spirits from the\nbounds thereof, and being sprinkled with pure sanctified water, the\nground was purified from all uncleanness; besides, the holy names of\nGod being written over every part of it, its force became so powerful\nthat no evil spirits had ability to break through it, or to get at the\nmagician and his companion, by reason of the antipathy in nature they\nbore to these sacred names. And the reason given for the triangles\nwas, that if the spirit was not easily brought to speak the truth, they\nmight by the exorcist be conjured to enter the same, where, by virtue\nof the names of the essence and divinity of God, they could speak\nnothing but what was true and right.'[166] We are further informed,\nthat if the ghost of a deceased person was to be raised, the grave\nhad to be resorted to at midnight, when a special form of conjuration\nwas deemed necessary; and there was another for 'any corpse that hath\nhanged, drowned, or otherwise made away with itself.' And in this case,\nit is added, 'the conjurations are performed over the body, which will\nat last arise, and, standing upright, answer with a faint and hollow\nvoice the questions that are put to it.'\n\nThe mode of procedure as practised in Scotland was thus. The haunted\nroom was made ready. He 'who was to do the daring deed, about nightfall\nentered the room, bearing with him a table, a chair, a candle, a\ncompass, a crucifix if one could be got, and a Bible. With the compass\nhe cast a circle on the middle of the floor, large enough to hold the\nchair and the table. He placed within the circle the chair and the\ntable, and on the table he laid the Bible and the crucifix beside the\nlighted candle. If he had not a crucifix, then he drew the figure of a\ncross on the floor within the circle. When all this was done, he seated\nhimself on the chair, opened the Bible, and waited for the coming of\nthe spirit. Exactly at midnight the spirit came. Sometimes the door\nopened slowly, and there glided in noiselessly a lady sheeted in white,\nwith a face of woe, and told her story to the man on his asking her\nin the name of God what she wanted. What she wanted was done in the\nmorning, and the spirit rested ever after. Sometimes the spirit rose\nfrom the floor, and sometimes came forth from the wall. One there was\nwho burst into the room with a strong bound, danced wildly round the\ncircle, and flourished a long whip round the man's head, but never\ndared to step within the circle. During a pause in his frantic dance\nhe was asked, in God's name, what he wanted. He ceased his dance and\ntold his wishes. His wishes were carried out, and the spirit was in\npeace.'[167]\n\nIn Wraxall's 'Memoirs of the Courts of Berlin, Dresden, Warsaw, and\nVienna'[168] there is an amusing account of the raising of the ghost of\nthe Chevalier de Saxe. Reports had been circulated that at his palace\nat Dresden there was secreted a large sum of money, and it was urged\nthat if his spirit could be compelled to appear, that interesting\nsecret might be extorted from him. Curiosity, combined with avarice,\naccordingly prompted his principal heir, Prince Charles, to try the\nexperiment, and on the appointed night, Schrepfer was the operator in\nraising the apparition. He commenced his proceedings by retiring into\na corner of the gallery, where, kneeling down with many mysterious\nceremonies, he invoked the spirit to appear. At length a loud clatter\nwas heard at all the windows on the outside, resembling more the effect\nproduced by a number of wet fingers drawn over the edge of glasses than\nanything else to which it could well be compared. This sound announced\nthe arrival of the good spirits, and was shortly followed by a yell\nof a frightful and unusual nature, which indicated the presence of\nmalignant spirits. Schrepfer continued his invocations, when 'the door\nsuddenly opened with violence, and something that resembled a black\nball or globe rolled into the room. It was enveloped in smoke or cloud,\nin the midst of which appeared a human face, like the countenance\nof the Chevalier de Saxe, from which issued a loud and angry voice,\nexclaiming in German, \"Carl, was wollte du mit mich?\"--Charles, what\nwould thou do with me?' By reiterated exorcisms Schrepfer finally\ndismissed the apparition, and the terrified spectators dispersed, fully\nconvinced of his magical powers.[169] Roscoe has given an interesting\naccount[170] of Benvenuto Cellini's experiences of raising spirits\nby incantation, but the Sicilian priest who acquainted him with the\nmysteries of his art of necromancy, as it has been remarked, had far\ngreater knowledge of 'chemistry and pharmacy than he required for his\nthurible or incense pot.' His accomplices, of course, could see and\nreport sights of any wonderful kind. Those who penetrate into 'magic\ncircles may expect startling sights, overpowering smells, strange\nsounds, and even demoniacal dreams.' Instances, it is stated, are\nrecorded of many who perished by raising up spirits, particularly\n'Chiancungi,' the famous Egyptian fortune-teller, who was so famous in\nEngland in the seventeenth century. He undertook for a wager to raise\nup the spirit 'Bokim,' and having described the circle, he seated his\nsister Napula by him as his associate. 'After frequently repeating the\nform of exorcism, and calling upon the spirit to appear, and nothing\nas yet answering his demand, they grew impatient of the business,\nand quitted the circle; but it cost them their lives, for they were\ninstantaneously seized and crushed to death by that infernal spirit,\nwho happened not to be sufficiently constrained till that moment to\nmanifest himself to human eyes.'\n\nAmong the many curious stories told of ghost-raising may be mentioned a\nsomewhat whimsical one related by a correspondent of a Bradford paper,\nwho tells how, in his youthful days, he assisted in an attempt to raise\nthe ghost of the wicked old squire of Calverley Hall. 'About a dozen\nscholars,' to quote his words, 'used to assemble close to the venerable\nchurch of Calverley, and then put their hats and caps on the ground, in\na pyramidal form. Then taking hold of each other's hands, they formed\na \"magic circle,\" holding firmly together, and making use of an old\nrefrain:\n\n    Old Calverley, old Calverley, I have thee by the ears,\n    I'll cut thee into collops, unless thee appears.\n\nWhilst this incantation was going on, crumbs of bread mixed with pins\nwere strewn on the ground, the lads meanwhile tramping round in the\ncircle with a heavy tread. Some of the more venturesome boys had to\ngo round to each of the church doors, and whistle aloud through the\nkeyholes, repeating the magic couplet which their comrades in the\ncircle were chanting. But, at this critical point, a pale and ghostly\nfigure was expected to appear, and, on one occasion, some kind of\napparition is said to have issued forth from the church, the lads in\ntheir terrified haste making their escape as quickly as they could.'\n\nIn the search after the philosopher's stone, and elixir of life, the\nmost revolting ingredients were turned to use, such as blood and dead\nmen's bones, but occasionally with unexpected results. On one occasion,\nfor instance, three alchemists obtained some earth mould from St.\nInnocent's Church, Paris, thinking that from it might be extracted the\nphilosopher's stone. But, after subjecting it to distillation, they\nperceived in their receivers forms of men produced which caused them to\ndesist from their labours. The Paris Institute took up the matter, and\nthe result of their inquiries appears in the 'Miscellanea Curiosa.' An\nabstract of one of these French documents was published by Dr. Ferrier\nin the 'Manchester Philosophical Transactions,' which we quote below:\n\n'A malefactor was executed, of whose body a grave physician got\npossession for the purpose of dissection. After disposing of the other\nparts of the body, he ordered his assistant to pulverise a part of the\ncranium, which was a remedy at that time administered in dispensaries.\nThe powder was left in a paper on the table in the museum, where the\nassistant slept. About midnight he was awakened by a noise in the room,\nwhich obliged him to rise immediately. The noise continued about the\ntable without any visible agent, and at length he traced it to the\npowder, in the midst of which he now beheld, to his unspeakable dismay,\na small head, with large eyes, staring at him. Presently two branches\nappeared, which formed into arms and hands. Next the ribs became\nvisible, which were soon clothed with muscles and integuments. Next the\nlower extremities sprouted out, and, when they appeared perfect, the\npuppet (for his size was small) reared himself on his feet; instantly\nhis clothes came upon him, and he appeared in the very cloak he wore at\nhis execution. The affrighted spectator, who stood hitherto mumbling\nhis prayers with great application, was simply awe-struck; but still\ngreater was his bewilderment when the apparition planted himself in his\nway, and after divers fierce looks and threatening gestures, opened the\ndoor and went out. No doubt the powder was missing next day.'\n\nA similar strange experience is recorded by Dr. Webster in his book on\nwitchcraft, on the authority of Dr. Flud, the facts of which were thus:\n\n'A certain chemical operator, named La Pierre, received blood from the\nhands of a certain bishop to operate upon, which he, setting to work\nupon the Saturday, did continue it for a week, with divers degrees of\nfire. But about midnight the Friday following, this artificer, lying in\na chamber next to his laboratory, betwixt sleeping and waking, heard a\nhorrible noise like unto the lowing of kine or the roaring of a lion;\nand continuing quiet, after the ceasing of the sound in the laboratory,\nthe moon being at the full, and by shining enlightening the chamber,\nsuddenly, betwixt himself and the window he saw a thick little cloud\ncondensed into an oval form, which after, by little and little, did\nseem completely to put on the shape of a man, and making another and\nsharp clamour did suddenly vanish. And not only some noble persons in\nthe next chambers, but also the host and his wife, lying in a lower\nroom of the house, and also the neighbours dwelling on the opposite\nside of the street, did distinctly hear the bellowing as well as the\nvoice, and some of them were awakened with the vehemence thereof. But\nthe artificer said that in this he found solace, because the bishop\nfrom whom he had it did admonish him that if any of them from whom\nthe blood was extracted should die in the time of its putrefaction,\nhis spirit was wont often to appear to the sight of the artificer\nwith perturbation. Also forthwith, upon the Saturday following, he\ntook the retort from the furnace and broke it with the slight stroke\nof a little key, and there, in the remaining blood, found the perfect\nrepresentation of a human head, agreeable in face, eyes, nostrils,\nmouth, and hairs, that were somewhat thin and of a golden colour.'\nWebster adds: 'There were many ocular witnesses, as the noble person\nLord of Bourdalone, the chief secretary to the Duke of Guise, and he\n(Flud) had this relation from the Lord of Menanton, living in that\nhouse at the same time, from a certain doctor of physic, from the owner\nof the house, and many others.'\n\nIn recent years the so-called spiritualism has attracted much\nattention, and 'as of old, men live now in habitual intercourse with\nthe spirits of the dead.... The spirits of the living as well as of\nthe dead, the souls of Strauss and Carl Vogt as well as of Augustine\nand Jerome, are summoned by mediums to distant spirit-circles.'[171]\nBut for further information on this subject reports of the Psychical\nResearch Society should be consulted.[172]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[164] Miss Bird's _Unbeaten Tracks in Japan_, i. p. 380.\n\n[165] _Occult Sciences_, 1855, Elihu Rich, p. 188.\n\n[166] For works on this subject may be consulted, Colin de Plancy's\n_Dictionnaire Infernal_; the _Malleus Maleficarum_ of the Germans; Del\nRio's _Disquisitiones Magic\u00e6_; and _Occult Sciences_, paper by Elihu\nRich, pp. 189-191.\n\n[167] Gregor, _Folk-lore of North-East of Scotland_, pp. 68, 69.\n\n[168] 1799, i. p. 281.\n\n[169] See 'Ghosts and Ghost-lore,' _Leisure Hour_, 1871, pp. 334-766.\n\n[170] _Life of Benvenuto Cellini._\n\n[171] Tylor's _Primitive Culture_, i. p. 143.\n\n[172] See also _Real Ghost Stories_. Edited by W.\u00a0T. Stead.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\nGHOST LAYING\n\n\nIn his amusing account of the art of 'laying' ghosts, published in the\nlast century, Grose tells us 'a ghost may be laid for any term less\nthan a hundred years, and in any place or body, full or empty; as a\nsolid oak, the pommel of a sword, a barrel of beer, if a yeoman or\nsimple gentleman; or a pipe of wine, if an esquire or a justice.' But\nthis, as Dr. Tylor writes,[173] 'is one of the many good instances of\narticles of serious savage belief surviving as jests among civilised\nmen.' However whimsical the idea of laying a ghost may seem to the\nprosaic mind, an inquiry into the history of human belief shows how\nwidely this expedient has been resorted to in times past, although St.\nChrysostom is said to have insulted some African conjurors of old with\nthis quaint and humiliating observation: 'Miserable and woful creatures\nthat we are, we cannot so much as expel fleas, much less devils.'\n\nIt was not so very long ago that, at the trial of Laurie for the murder\nof Mr. Rose,[174] Sergeant Munro, on being asked by the Dean of Faculty\na question as to the disappearance of the murdered man's boots, replied\nthat he believed they had been buried on the beach at Corne, below\nhigh-water mark. This curious ceremony seems to have been adopted by\nthe Highland police, with the intention of laying Mr. Rose's ghost--an\nobject which, according to tradition, might be attained by burying his\nboots under water. The expedient resorted to by the Highland police\nwas founded not upon any inadequate estimate of the powers of ghosts,\nbut upon an intimate knowledge of their likes and dislikes. They are\nknown to entertain a strong objection to water, an antipathy which is\nsufficiently strong to make them shun a spot on which water is to be\nfound; in fact, as Mr. Hunt writes,[175] spirits are supposed to be\nunable to cross water.\n\nA story is told of 'Dary Pit,' Shropshire, a dismal pool, which was\na much dreaded spot, because it was said spirits were laid under the\nwater, and might, it seems, in spite of being so laid, walk abroad.\n\nThis belief may be traced in various parts of the world, and 'one of\nthe most striking ways,' writes Mr. James G. Frazer,[176] 'of keeping\ndown the dead man is to divert the course of a river, bury him in its\nbed, and then allow the river to resume its course. It was thus that\nAlaric was buried, and Commander Cameron found the same mode of burial\nin vogue amongst a tribe in Central Africa.'\n\nAmong the Tipperahs of Chittagong, if a man dies away from home, his\nfriends stretch a thread over all the intermediate streams, so that\nthe spirit of the dead man may return to his own village; 'it being\nsupposed that,[177] without assistance, spirits are unable to cross\nrunning water,' and hence streams are occasionally bridged over in the\nmanner afore-said.[178] A somewhat similar idea prevails among the\nFijians, and we are told how those who have reason to suspect others of\nplotting against them occasionally 'build themselves a small house, and\nsurround it with a moat, believing that a little water will neutralise\nthe charms which are directed' to hurt them.[179]\n\nThe idea of water as a barrier against ghosts has given rise to many\nstrange customs, some of which Mr. Frazer quotes in his paper on 'The\nPrimitive Ghost.'[180] Among the Metamba negroes, a woman is bound hand\nand foot by the priest, who flings her into the water several times\nover with the intention of drowning her husband's ghost, who may be\nsupposed to be clinging to his unfeeling spouse. A similar practice\nexists in Angola, and in New Zealand those who have attended a funeral\nplunge several times into the nearest stream. In Tahiti, all who\nassisted at a burial plunged into the sea; and in some parts of West\nAfrica, after the corpse has been deposited in the grave, 'all the\nbearers rush to the waterside and undergo a thorough ablution before\nthey are permitted to return to the town.'\n\nAccording to Mr. Ralston, the Lusatian Wends place water between\nthemselves and the dead as they return from a burial, even, if\nnecessary, breaking ice for the purpose. And 'in many parts of Germany,\nin modern Greece, and in Cyprus, water is poured out behind the corpse\nwhen it is carried from the house, in the belief that if the ghost\nreturns he will not be able to cross it.'[181] A Danish tradition says,\n'If a person dies who, it is feared, will reappear, as a preventive\nlet a basinful of water be thrown after the corpse when it is carried\nout'[182] and there will be no further cause of alarm. In Bohemia,\nafter a death, the water-butt is turned upside down, for if the ghost\nbathe in it, and anyone should happen to drink of it afterwards, he\nwould be a dead man within the year. In Pomerania, after a funeral, no\nwashing is done for some time, lest the dead man should be wet in his\ngrave.\n\nDrake, in his legends of New England, alludes to a story of a wreck at\nIpswich, and says that, when the storms come, the howling of the wind\nis 'Harry Main'--a legend which has thus been versified by A. Morgan:\n\n    He blasphemed God, so they put him down,\n    With his iron shovel at Ipswich Bar,\n    They chained him there for a thousand years,\n    And the sea rolls up, to shovel it back.\n    So when the sea cries, the good wives say,\n    'Harry Main growls at his work to-day.'\n\nSimilarly the Chibchas in their mythology had a great river that souls\nhad to pass over on floats made of cobwebs. On this account they never\nkilled spiders. The Araucanian soul is borne across the Stygian flood\nby a whale, and the Potawatomis think 'the souls of the dead cross a\nlarge stream over a log, which rolls so that many slip off into the\nwater. One of their ancestors went to the edge of the stream, but, not\nliking to venture on the log, he came back two days after his death. He\nreported that he heard the sounds of the drum on the other side of the\nriver, to the beat of which the souls of the dead were dancing.'[183]\nThe Ojibways speak of a similar stream, across which lies a serpent,\nover whose body the soul must cross.\n\nA favourite mode of capturing a ghost in days gone by was to entice it\ninto something small, such as a bottle, and as a decoy, to doubt its\npower to do so--a mode of exorcism which would seem to have suggested\nour 'bottle-imps.' An amusing story of laying a ghost by this means,\nand which illustrates the popular belief, is recorded in the 'Folk-lore\nRecord' (ii. 176), on the authority of the late Thomas Wright. 'There\nlived in the town of ----, in that part of England which lies towards\nthe borders of Wales, a very curious simple kind of a man, though all\nsaid he knew a good deal more than other people did not know. There\nwas in the same town a very old house, one of the rooms of which was\nhaunted by a ghost, which prevented people making use of it. The man\nabove mentioned was reported to be very clever at dealing with ghosts,\nand so the owner of the haunted house sent for him, and asked him if\nhe could undertake to make the ghost quit the house. Tommy, for that\nwas the name he generally went by, agreed to do this, on condition that\nthree things were provided him--an empty bottle, a bottle of brandy\nwith a tumbler, and a pitcher of water. So Tommy locked the door safely\ninside, and sat down to pass the night drinking brandy and water.\n\n'Just as the clock struck twelve, he was roused by a slight noise, and\nlo! there was the ghost standing before him. Says the ghost, \"Well,\nTommy, how are ye?\" \"Pretty well, thank ye,\" says he, \"but pray, how do\nyou know my name?\" \"Oh, very well indeed,\" said the ghost. \"And how did\nyou get in?\" \"Oh, very easily.\" \"Not through the door, I'm sure.\" \"No,\nnot at all, but through the keyhole.\" \"D'ye say so? None of your tricks\nupon me; I won't believe you came through the keyhole.\" \"Won't ye? but\nI did.\" \"Well, then,\" says Tommy, pointing to the empty bottle, which\nhe pretended to have emptied, \"if you can come through the keyhole you\ncan get into this bottle, but I won't believe you can do either.\" Now\nthe ghost began to be very angry that Tommy should doubt his power of\ngetting into the bottle, so he asserted most confidently that the thing\nwas easy to be done. \"No,\" said Tommy, \"I won't believe it till I have\nseen you get in.\" \"Here goes then,\" said the ghost, and sure enough\ninto the bottle he went, and Tommy corked him up quite tight, so that\nhe could not get out, and he took the bottle to the bridge where the\nriver was wide and deep, and he threw the bottle exactly over the\nkeystone of the middle arch into the river, and the ghost was never\nheard after.'\n\nThis cunning mode of laying a ghost is very old, and reminds us of the\namusing story of the fisherman and the genie in the Arabian Nights.\nThe tale tells how, one day, a fisherman drew a brazen bottle out of\nthe sea, sealed with the magic seal of Suleyman Ben Daood, out of\nwhich there issued an enormous genie, who threatened the fisherman\nwith death. The latter, feeling his life was at stake, bethought him\nof doubting the genie's ability to enter so small a vessel, whereupon\nthe affronted genie returned thither to vindicate his character, and so\nplaced himself in the fisherman's power. In the same way a Bulgarian\nsorcerer armed with a saint's picture will hunt a vampire into a bottle\ncontaining some of the food that the demon loves; as soon as he is\nfairly inside, he is corked down, the bottle is thrown into the fire,\nand the vampire disappears for ever.\n\nMiss Jackson[184] quotes a story from Montgomeryshire, of how the\nspirit of Lady Jeffreys, who for some reason could not rest in peace,\nand 'troubled people dreadfully,' was 'persuaded to contract her\ndimensions and enter a bottle. She did so, after appearing in a good\nmany hideous forms; but when once in the bottle it was corked down\nsecurely, and the bottle was thrown into the pool underneath the\nShort Bridge, over the Severn, in Llanidloes; and in the bottle she\nwas to remain until the ivy that crept along the buttresses overgrew\nthe sides of the bridge and reached the top of the parapet; then when\nthis took place she should be released from her bottle prison.' In\nthe 'Collectanea Arch\u00e6ologica' (vol. i. part 1) we are told on the\nauthority of one Sarah Mason, of Baschurch, that 'there was a woman\nhanged on a tree at Cutberry, and she came again so badly that nine\nclergymen had to be fetched to lay her. So they read and read until\nthey got her into a bottle, and they buried it under a flat sandstone\nin the road. We used to go past the stone every time we went to church,\nand I've often wondered if she was still there, and what would happen\nif anyone was to pull the stone up.' And as a further safeguard a\ncorrespondent of 'Notes and Queries,' writing from Ecclesfield, says it\nis best in laying ghosts to cheat them to consent to being laid while\nhollies are green, for hollies being evergreen, the ghost can reappear\nno more.\n\nIn Wales, the objectionable spectre must be conjured in the name of\nHeaven to depart, and return no more, the strength of the exorcism\nbeing doubled by employing the Latin language to deliver it, which, to\nbe perfectly effectual, must be done by three clergymen. The exorcism\nis usually for a stated time, seven years is the favourite period,\nand one hundred years the limit. Instances are recorded where a ghost\nwhich had been laid a hundred years returned at the end of the time\nto its old haunts. According to Mr. Wirt Sikes,[185] 'in all cases it\nis necessary the ghost should agree to be exorcised; no power can lay\nit if it be possessed of an evil demon. In such cases the terrors of\nHeaven must be rigorously invoked, but the result is only temporary.\nProperly constituted family ghosts, however, will lend a reasonable ear\nto entreaty backed by prayer.'\n\nCandles have generally played an important part in the ceremony of\nghost laying, one popular idea being that ghosts have no power by\ncandlelight. Thus, in many tales, the ghost is cheated into a promise\nnot to return till the candle is burnt out, whereupon the crafty parson\nimmediately blows it out, throwing it into a pond, or burying it in\nthe earth. The belief is an old one, for, in one of the Sagas quoted\nby Mr. Baring-Gould,[186] the tomb-breaking hero finds an old Viking\nsitting in his dragon-ship, with his five hundred comrades motionless\nabout him. He is about to depart, after possessing himself of the dead\nman's treasures, when the taper goes out, whereupon they all rise and\nattack the intruder, who barely escapes by invoking St. Olaf's aid. In\nall Shropshire stories, we are told that the great point is to keep\nthe candles lighted in spite of the ghost's utmost efforts to blow\nthem out; an amusing instance being that of the Bagbury ghost, which\nappeared in the shape of a bull, and was so troublesome that twelve\nparsons were required to lay it. The story goes that they got him into\nHyssington Church; 'they all had candles, and one blind old parson,\nwho knowed him, and knowed what a rush he would make, he carried his\ncandle in his top-boot. And he made a great rush, and all the candles\nwent out, all but the blind parson's, and he said, \"You light your\ncandles by mine.\"'\n\nMiss Jackson also tells[187] how 'Squire Blount's ghost' long haunted\nKinlet Hall, because his daughter had married a page-boy. At last it\nwas found necessary to pull down Kinlet Old Hall, and to build it again\non a fresh site, 'for he would even come into the room where they were\nat dinner, and drive his coach and four white horses across the dinner\ntable.' But 'at last they got a number of parsons together and lighted\ncandles, and read and read till all the candles were burnt out but one,\nand so they quieted him, and laid him in the sea. There was, it is\nreported, a little bottle under his monument in Kinlet Church, and if\nthat were broken he would come again. It is a little flat bottle seven\nor eight inches long, with a glass stopper in it, which nobody could\nget out; and if anyone got hold of it, the remark was made, \"Take care\nas you dunna let that fall, for if it breaks, old Blount will come\nagain.\"'\n\nAccording to Mr. Henderson[188] there was a house in a village of\nArkingarthdale which had long been haunted by a bogle. At last the\nowner adopted the following plan for expelling it. Opening the Bible,\nhe placed it on a table with a lighted candle, and said aloud to the\nbogle, 'Noo thoo can read or dance, or dea as ta likes.' He then turned\nround and walked upstairs, when the bogle, in the form of a grey cat,\nflew past and vanished in the air. Years passed without its being seen\nagain, but one day he met it on the stairs, and he was that day killed\nin the mines.\n\nAt Leigh, Worcestershire, a spectre known as 'Old Coles' formerly\nappeared, and would drive a coach and four over the great barn at Leigh\nCourt, and then cool the fiery nostrils of his steeds in the waters of\nthe Teme. This perturbed spirit was at length laid in a neighbouring\npool by twelve parsons at midnight, by the light of an inch of candle;\nand as he was not to rise again until the candle was quite burnt out,\nit was thrown into the pool, and to make all sure, the pool was filled\nup,\n\n    And peaceful ever after slept\n        Old Coles's shade.[189]\n\nBut sometimes, when the candles burn out their time, it is an\nindication that none of the party can lay the ghost, as happened in\nthe case of a certain Dartmoor vicar's unquiet spirit described by Mr.\nHenderson.[190] 'A jury of seven parsons was convoked to lay it, and\neach sat for half an hour with a candle in his hand, but it burned out\nits time with each. The spirit could afford to defy them; it was not\nworth his while to blow their candles out. But the seventh parson was\na stranger and a scholar fresh from Oxford. In his hand the light went\nout at once. He was clearly the man to lay the ghost; he laid it at\nonce, and in a beer-barrel.'\n\nAccording to another way of ejecting or laying ghosts, there must be\ntwo or three clergymen, and the ceremony must be performed in the Latin\nlanguage, which, it is said, will strike the most audacious ghost with\nterror. Allan Ramsay mentions, as common in Scotland, the vulgar\nnotion that a ghost cannot be laid till some priest speaks to it, and\nascertains what prevents it from resting.\n\n    For well we wat it is his ghaist\n    Wow, wad some folk that can do't best,\n    Speak tol't, and hear what it confest.\n    To send a wand'ring saul to rest\n          'Tis a good deed\n          Amang the dead.\n\nAnd in the 'Statistical Account of Scotland' (xiii. 557) the writer,\nspeaking of the parish of Locharron, county of Ross, alludes to the\nsame idea: 'There is one opinion which many of them entertain, and\nwhich, indeed, is not peculiar to this parish alone, that a Popish\npriest can cast out devils and cure madness, and that the Presbyterian\nclergy have no such power. A person might as well advise a mob to pay\nno attention to a merry Andrew, as to desire many ignorant people to\nstay from the priest.'\n\nOn a small island off Scotland, called Ledge's Holm, writes Mr.\nBassett, there is a quarry called 'The Crier of Claife.' According to a\nlocal tradition, a ferryman was hailed on a dark night from the island,\nand went over. After a long absence he returned, having witnessed\nmany horrible sights which he refused to relate. Soon afterwards he\nbecame a monk. After a time the same cry was heard, and he went over\nand succeeded in laying the ghost where it now rests. But Bourne, who\nhas preserved a form for exorcising a haunted house, ridicules the\nfancy that 'none can lay spirits but Popish priests,' and says that\n'our own clergy know just as much of the black art as the others do'--a\nstatement which is amply confirmed. Thus, a ghost known as 'Benjie\nGear' long troubled the good people of Okehampton to such an extent\nthat, 'at last,' writes Mr. James Spry, in 'The Western Antiquary,'\n'the aid of the archdeacon was called in, and the clergy were assembled\nin order that the troubled spirit might be laid and cease to trouble\nthem. There were twenty-three of the clergy who invoked him in various\nclassic languages, but the insubordinate spirit refused to listen to\ntheir request. At length, one more learned than the rest addressed him\nin Arabic, to which he was forced to succumb, saying, \"Now thou art\ncome, I must be gone!\" He was then compelled to take the form of a\ncolt; a new bridle and bit, which had never been used, were produced,\nwith a rider, to whom the Sacrament was administered. The man was\ndirected to ride the colt to Cranmere Pool, on Dartmoor, the following\ninstructions being given him. He was to prevent the colt from turning\nits head towards the town until they were out of the park, and then\nmake straight for the pool, and when he got to the slope, to slip\nfrom the colt's back, pull the bridle off, and let him go. All this\nwas dexterously performed, and the impetus thus gained by the animal\nwith the intention of throwing the rider over its head into the Pool,\naccomplished its own fate.'\n\nAnother curious account of laying a ghost is connected with Spedlin's\nTower, which stands on the south-west bank of the Annan. The story\ngoes, that one of its owners, Sir Alexander Jardine, confined, in the\ndungeon of his tower, a miller named Porteous, on suspicion of having\nwilfully set fire to his own premises. Being suddenly called away to\nEdinburgh, he forgot the existence of his captive until he had died\nof hunger. But no sooner was the man dead, than his ghost began so\npersistently to disturb Spedlin's Tower, that Sir Alexander Jardine\nsummoned 'a whole legion of ministers to his aid, and by their efforts\nPorteous was at length confined to the scene of his mortal agonies,\nwhere, at times, he was heard screaming, \"Let me out, let me out,\nfor I'm deein' o' hunger!\"' The spell which compelled his spirit to\nremain in bondage was attached to a large black-lettered Bible used\nby the exorcists, and afterwards deposited in a stone niche, which\nstill remains in the wall of the staircase. On one occasion the Bible,\nrequiring to be re-bound, was sent to Edinburgh, whereupon the ghost\nof Porteous recommenced its annoyances, so that the Bible was recalled\nbefore reaching Edinburgh, and was replaced in its former situation.\nBut, it would seem, the ghost is at last at rest, for the Bible is now\nkept at Jardine Hall.\n\nThen there is the ghost of 'Madam Pigott,' once the terror of Chetwynd\nand Edgmond. Twelve of the neighbouring clergy were summoned to lay\nher by incessantly reading psalms till they had succeeded in making\nher obedient to their power. 'Mr. Foy, curate of Edgmond,' says Miss\nJackson,[191] 'has the credit of having accomplished this, for he\ncontinued reading after all the others were exhausted.' But, 'ten\nor twelve years after his death, some fresh alarm of Madam Pigott\narose, and a party went in haste to beg a neighbouring rector to come\nand lay the ghost; and to this day Chetwynd Hall has the reputation\nof being haunted.' It is evident that 'laying a ghost' was far from\nan easy task. A humorous anecdote is told[192] of a haunted house\nat Homersfield, in Suffolk, where an unquiet spirit so worried and\nharassed the inmates that they sent for a parson. On his arrival he\ncommenced reading a prayer, but instantly the ghost got a line ahead\nof him. Happily one of the family hit on this device: the next time,\nas soon as the parson began his exorcism, two pigeons were let loose;\nthe spirit stopped to look at them, the priest got before him in his\nprayer, and the ghost was laid.\n\nClegg Hall, Lancashire, was the scene of a terrible tragedy, for\ntradition tells how a wicked uncle destroyed the lawful heirs--two\norphans that were left to his care--by throwing them over a balcony\ninto the moat, in order that he might seize on their inheritance. Ever\nafterwards the house was the reputed haunt of a troubled and angry\nspirit, until means were taken for its expulsion. Mr. William Nuttall,\nin a ballad entitled 'Sir Roland and Clegg Hall Boggart,' makes Sir\nRoland murder the children in bed with a dagger. Remorse eventually\ndrove him mad, and he died raving during a violent storm. The hall was\never after haunted by the children's ghosts, and also by demons, till\nSt. Anthony, with a relic from the Virgin's shrine, exorcised and laid\nthe evil spirits. According to Mr. Nuttall there were two boggarts of\nClegg Hall, and it is related how the country people 'importuned a\npious monk to exorcise or lay the ghost.' Having provided himself with\na variety of charms and spells, he quickly brought the ghosts to a\nparley. They demanded as a condition of future quiet the sacrifice of\na body and a soul. Thereupon the cunning monk said, 'Bring me the body\nof a cock and the sole of a shoe.' This being done, the spirits were\nforbidden to appear till the whole of the sacrifice was consumed, and\nso ended the laying of the Clegg Hall boggarts. But, for some reason or\nother, the plan of this wily priest did not prove successful, and these\ntwo ghosts have continued to walk.[193]\n\nWith this idea of sacrifice as necessary for laying ghosts may be\nmentioned the apparition of a servant at Waddow Hall, known as 'Peg o'\nNell.' On one occasion, the story goes, she had a quarrel with the lord\nor lady of Waddow Hall, who, in a fit of anger, wished that she 'might\nfall and break her neck.' In some way or other Peggy did fall and break\nher neck, and to be revenged on her evil wisher she haunted the Hall,\nand made things very uncomfortable. In addition to these perpetual\nannoyances, 'every seven years Peg required a life, and it is said that\n\"Peg's night,\" as the time of sacrifice at each anniversary was called,\nwas duly observed; and if no living animal were ready as a septennial\noffering to her manes, a human being became inexorably the victim.\nConsequently, it grew to be the custom on \"Peg's night\" to drown a\nbird, or a cat, or a dog in the river; and a life being thus given, Peg\nwas appeased for another seven years.'[194]\n\nAt Beoley, Worcestershire, at the commencement of the present\ncentury, the ghost of a reputed murderer managed to keep undisputed\npossession of a certain house, until a conclave of clergymen chained\nhim to the Red Sea for fifty years. At the expiration of this term\nof imprisonment, the released ghost reappeared, and more than ever\nfrightened the inmates of the said house, slamming the doors, and\nracing through the ceilings. At last, however, they took heart and\nchased the restless spirit, by stamping on the floor from one room to\nanother, under the impression that could they once drive him to a trap\ndoor opening in the cheese-room, he would disappear for a season.[195]\n\nA curious case of laying a ghost occurs in 'An account of an apparition\nattested by the Rev. W. Ruddell, minister at Launceston, in Cornwall,'\n1665, quoted in Gilbert's 'Historical Survey of Cornwall.' A schoolboy\nwas haunted by Dorothy Dingley, and he pined. He was thought to be in\nlove, and when, at the wishes of his friends, the parson questioned\nhim, he told him of his ghostly visitor, and showed him the spectral\nDorothy. Then comes the story of the ghost-laying.\n\n'The next morning being Thursday, I went out very early by myself, and\nwalked for about an hour's space in meditation and prayer in the field\nadjoining to the Quartills. Soon after five I stepped over the stile\ninto the disturbed field, and had not gone above thirty or forty paces\nwhen the ghost appeared at the further stile. I spoke to it with a loud\nvoice in some such sentences as the way of these dealings directed me;\nthereupon it approached, but slowly, and when I came near it, it moved\nnot. I spoke again, and it answered again in a voice which was neither\nvery audible nor intelligible. I was not the least terrified, therefore\nI persisted till it spoke again, and gave me satisfaction. But the work\ncould not be finished this time, wherefore the same evening, an hour\nafter sunset, it met me again near the same place, and after a few\nwords on each side it quietly vanished, and neither doth appear since,\nnor ever will more to any man's disturbance.'\n\nLocal tradition still tells us that 'Madam Dudley's ghost did use\nto walk in Cumnor Park, and that it walked so obstinately, that it\ntook no less than nine parsons from Oxford \"to lay her.\" That they at\nlast laid her in a pond, called \"Madam Dudley's Pond,\" and, moreover,\nwonderful to relate, the water in that pond was never known to freeze\nafterwards.' Heath Old Hall, near Wakefield, is haunted by the ghost\nof Lady Bolles, who is commonly reported to have been conjured down\ninto a hole of the river, locally known as 'Bolles Pit.' But, as in\nmany other cases of ghost-laying, 'the spell was not so powerful, but\nthat she still rises, and makes a fuss now and then.' Various reasons\nhave been assigned for her 'walking,' such as the non-observance by her\nexecutors of certain clauses in her will, whilst a story current in the\nneighbourhood tells us that a certain room in the Hall which had been\nwalled up for a certain period, owing to large sums of money having\nbeen gambled away in it, was opened before the stipulated time had\nexpired. Others assert that her unhappy condition is on account of her\nfather's mysterious death, which was ascribed to demoniacal agency.[196]\n\nBut of all places the most common, in years gone by, for laying ghosts\nwas the Red Sea, and hence, in one of Addison's plays, we read, 'There\nmust be a power of spirits in that sea.' 'This is a locality,' says\nGrose, 'which ghosts least like, it being related in many instances\nthat ghosts have most earnestly besought the exorcists not to confine\nthem in that place. It is, nevertheless, considered as an indisputable\nfact that there are an infinite number laid there, perhaps from\nits being a safer prison than any other nearer at hand.' But when\nsuch exiled ghosts did happen to re-appear, they were thought more\naudacious, being seen by day instead of at night.\n\nIn an amusing poem entitled 'The Ghost of a Boiled Scrag of Mutton,'\nwhich appeared in the 'Flowers of Literature' many years ago, the\nfollowing verse occurs embodying the idea:\n\n    The scholar was versed in all magical lore,\n      Most famous was he throughout college;\n    To the Red Sea full many an unquiet ghost,\n    To repose with King Pharaoh and his mighty host,\n      He had sent through his proverbial knowledge.\n\nAddison tells us in the 'Spectator,' alluding to his London lodgings at\na good-natured widow's house one winter, how on one occasion he entered\nthe room unexpectedly, where several young ladies, visitors, were\ntelling stories of spirits and apparitions, when, on being told that it\nwas only _the gentleman_, the broken conversation was resumed, and 'I\nseated myself by the candle that stood at one end of the table, and,\npretending to read a book that I took out of my pocket, heard several\nstories of ghosts that, pale as ashes, had stood at the bed's foot,\nor walked over a churchyard by moonlight; and others that had been\nconjured into the Red Sea for disturbing people's rest.' As it has been\nhumorously remarked, it is not surprising that many a strange ghost\nstory has been told by the sea-faring community, when we remember how\nmany spirits have been banished to the Red Sea.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[173] _Primitive Culture_, ii. p. 153.\n\n[174] _See Daily Telegraph_, Nov. 17, 1890. Article on 'Ghost Laying.'\nBurns's 'Tam o' Shanter' turns on this point, and it is noticed by Sir\nWalter Scott in 'The Lay of the Last Minstrel' (Canto III. Stanza 13):\n'The running stream dissolv'd the spell.'\n\n[175] _Romances of West of England_, p. 470.\n\n[176] _Contemporary Review_, xlviii. p. 107.\n\n[177] Lewin, _Hill Tracts of Chittagong_, p. 84.\n\n[178] See Sir John Lubbock, _Origin of Civilisation and Primitive\nCondition of Man_, 1870, p. 145.\n\n[179] _Fiji and the Fijians_, i. p. 248.\n\n[180] _Contemporary Review_, xlviii. p. 113.\n\n[181] _Folk-songs of Russia_, p. 320.\n\n[182] Thorpe's _Northern Mythology_, ii. p. 275.\n\n[183] Dorman's _Primitive Superstitions_, p. 37.\n\n[184] _Shropshire Folk-lore_, pp. 140, 141.\n\n[185] _British Goblins_, p. 165.\n\n[186] _Shropshire Folk-lore_, pp. 138, 139.\n\n[187] _Shropshire Folk-lore_, pp. 122, 123.\n\n[188] _Folk-lore of Northern Counties_, p. 247.\n\n[189] Jabez Allies, Worcestershire.\n\n[190] _Folk-lore of Northern Counties_, p. 337.\n\n[191] _Shropshire Folk-lore_, p. 125.\n\n[192] Henderson's _Folk-lore of Northern Counties_, p. 338.\n\n[193] See Harland and Wilkinson's _Lancashire Legends_, pp. 10-12.\n\n[194] Ingram's _Haunted Homes_, 2nd S. p. 265.\n\n[195] See _Gentleman's Magazine_, 1855, part ii. pp. 58, 59.\n\n[196] See Ingram's _Haunted Homes_, 2nd S. pp. 155-159.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\nGHOSTS OF THE DROWNED\n\n\nOn the coast of Brittany there is the 'Bay of the Departed,' where,\nit is said, in the dead hour of night the boatmen are summoned by\nsome unseen power to launch their boats and to ferry to a sacred\nisland the souls of men who have been drowned. On such occasions the\nboat is so crowded with invisible passengers as to sink quite low in\nthe water, while the wails and cries of the shipwrecked are clearly\nheard as the melancholy voyage progresses. On reaching the island of\nSein, the invisible passengers are numbered by unseen hands, after\nwhich the wondering, awestruck sailors return to await in readiness\nthe next supernatural summons. At Guildo, on the same coast, small\nphantom skiffs are reported to dart out from under the castle cliffs,\nmanned by spectral figures, ferrying over the treacherous sands the\nsouls of those unfortunate persons whose bodies lie engulfed in the\nneighbourhood. So strong is the antipathy to this weird spot that,\nafter nightfall, none of the seafaring community will approach near\nit.[197] Similar superstitions are found elsewhere, and in Cornwall,\nsailors dislike walking at night near those parts of the shore where\nthere have been wrecks, as they are supposed to be haunted by the\nghosts of drowned sailors, and the 'calling of the dead has frequently\nbeen heard.' 'I have been told,' writes Mr. Hunt,[198] 'that, under\ncertain circumstances, especially before the coming of storms, but\nalways at night, these callings are common. Many a fisherman has\ndeclared he has heard the voices of dead sailors \"hailing their own\nnames.\"' He further tells how a fisherman, or a pilot, was walking\none night on the sands at Porth-Towan, when all was still save the\nmonotonous fall of the light waves upon the sand. Suddenly, he\ndistinctly heard a voice from the sea exclaiming: 'The hour is come,\nbut not the man.'\n\nThis was repeated three times, when a black figure, like that of a man,\nappeared on the top of the hill. It paused for a moment, then rushed\nimpetuously down the steep incline, over the sands, and was lost in\nthe sea. In different forms the story is current all round the Cornish\nshores, and on the Norfolk coast, when any person is drowned, a voice\nis said to be heard from the water, ominous of a squall.\n\nOn the Continent the same belief, with certain variations, is found.\nLord Teignmouth, in his 'Reminiscences of Many Years,' speaking of\nUllesvang, in Norway, writes: 'A very natural belief that the voice\nof a person drowned is heard wailing amidst the storm is, apparently,\nthe only acknowledged remnant of ancient superstition still lingering\nalong the shores of the fiords.' In Germany, it is said that whenever\na man is drowned at sea, he announces his death to his relations, and\nhaunts the sea-shore. Such ghosts are supposed to make their appearance\nat evening twilight, in the clothes in which they were drowned.[199]\nAccording to a Schleswig version of this belief, the spirits of the\ndrowned do not enter the house, but linger about the threshold to\nannounce their sad errand. A story is told of a young lad who was\nforced by his father to go to sea against his will. Before starting,\nhe bid farewell to his mother, and said, 'As you sit on the shore by\nthe lake think of me.' Shortly his ghost appeared to her there, and she\nonly knew too well afterwards that he had perished.\n\nAmong Maine fishermen there are similar stories of the ghost of the\ndrowned being seen. Mr. W.\u00a0H. Bishop, in 'Harper's Magazine' (Sept.\n1880) tells us 'there was particularly the story of the Hascall. She\nbroke loose from her moorings during a gale on George's banks, and\nran into and sank the Andrew Johnson, and all on board. For years\nafterwards the spectres of the drowned men were reported to come on\nboard the Hascall at midnight, and go through the dumb show of fishing\nover the side, so that no one in Gloucester could be got to sail her,\nand she would not have brought sixpence in the market.' A Block Island\ntradition affirms that the ghosts of certain refugees, drowned in the\nsurf during the revolution, are often seen struggling to reach the\nshore, and occasionally their cries are distinctly heard.[200]\n\nThere is the well-known anecdote which Lord Byron, says Moore,[201]\nused sometimes to mention, and which Captain Kidd related to him on\nthe passage. 'This officer stated that, being asleep one night in his\nberth, he was awakened by the pressure of something heavy on his limbs,\nand there being a faint light in the room, could see, as he thought,\ndistinctly the figure of his brother, who was at that time in the same\nservice in the East Indies, dressed in his uniform, and stretched\nacross the bed. Concluding it to be an illusion, he shut his eyes, and\nmade an effort to sleep. But still the same pressure continued; and\nas often as he ventured to take another look, he saw the figure lying\nacross him in the same position. To add to the wonder, on putting\nhis hand forth to touch this form, he found the uniform in which he\nappeared dripping wet. On the entrance of one of his brother officers,\nto whom he called out in alarm, the apparition vanished, but, in a\nfew months afterwards, he received the startling intelligence that on\nthat night his brother had been drowned in the Indian Seas. Of the\nsupernatural character of this appearance, Captain Kidd himself did\nnot appear to have the slightest doubt.'\n\nA strange antipathy has long existed against rescuing a drowning man,\none reason being that the person saved would at some time or other do\ninjury to the man who rescued him. In China, however, this reluctance\nto give help to a drowning man arises from another form of the same\nsuperstitious dread, the idea being that the spirit of a person who\nhas been drowned continues to flit along the surface of the water,\nuntil it has caused by drowning the death of a fellow creature. A\nperson, therefore, who is bold enough to attempt to rescue another\nfrom drowning is believed to incur the hatred of the unquiet spirit,\nwhich is supposed to be desirous, even at the expense of a man's life,\nof escaping from its unceasing wandering. The Bohemian fisherman\nshrinks from snatching a drowning man from the water, fearing that the\nwater-demons would take away his luck in fishing, and drown him at the\nfirst opportunity. This, as Dr. Tylor points out,[202] is a lingering\nsurvival of the ancient significance of this superstition, the\nexplanation being that the water spirit is naturally angry at being\ndespoiled of his victim, and henceforth bears a special grudge against\nthe unlucky person who has dared to frustrate him. Thus, when a person\nis drowned in Germany the remark is often made, 'The river spirit\nclaims his yearly sacrifice,' or 'The Nix has taken him.'\n\nSimilarly the Siamese dreads the Pn\u00fck, or water spirit, that seizes\nunwary bathers, and drags them underneath the water; and the Sioux\nIndians tell how men have been drowned by Unktahe, the water demon.\nSpeaking of the ghosts of the drowned among savage tribes, Herbert\nSpenser says:[203] 'An eddy in the river, where floating sticks are\nwhirled round and engulfed, is not far from the place where one of\nthe tribe was drowned and never seen again. What more manifest,\nthen, than that the double of this drowned man, malicious as the\nunburied dead ever are, dwells thereabouts, and pulls these things\nunder the surface--nay, in revenge, seizes and drags down persons who\nventure near? When those who knew the drowned man are all dead, when,\nafter generations, the details of the story, thrust aside by more\nrecent stories, have been lost, there survives only the belief in a\nwater demon haunting the place.' We may compare the practice of the\nKamchadals, who, instead of helping a man out of the water, would drown\nhim by force. If rescued by any chance, no one would receive such a man\ninto his house, or give him food, but he was reckoned as dead.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[197] Jones: _Credulities Past and Present_, p. 92.\n\n[198] _Romances of West of England_, p. 366.\n\n[199] Thorpe's _Northern Mythology_, pp. 10, 11.\n\n[200] Quoted in Bassett's 'Legends of the Sea,' from Livermore's\n_History of Block Island_.\n\n[201] _Life of Byron._\n\n[202] See Tylor's _Primitive Culture_, i. p. 109.\n\n[203] _Principles of Sociology_, p. 219.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV\n\nGHOST SEERS\n\n\nAccording to the popular creed, some persons have the peculiar faculty\nof seeing ghosts, a privilege which, it would seem, is denied to\nothers. It has been urged, however, that under certain conditions\nof health there are those who are endowed with special powers of\nperception, whereby they are enabled to see objects not visible at\nother times. Thus, as Sir William Hamilton has observed, 'however\nastonishing, it is now proved, beyond all rational doubt, that in\ncertain abnormal states of the nervous organism, perceptions are\npossible through other than the ordinary channels of the senses.' But,\nwithout entering into this metaphysical question, folk-lore holds that\npersons born at a particular time of the day have the power of seeing\nghosts. Thus it is said in Lancashire, that children born during\ntwilight are supposed to have this peculiarity, and to know who of\ntheir acquaintance will next die. Some say that this property belongs\nalso to those who happen to be born exactly at twelve o'clock at night,\nor, as the peasantry say in Somersetshire, 'a child born in chime-hours\nwill have the power to see spirits.' The same belief prevails in\nYorkshire, where it is commonly supposed that children born during\nthe hour after midnight have the privilege through life of seeing the\nspirits of the departed. Mr. Henderson says[204] that 'a Yorkshire lady\ninformed him she was very near being thus distinguished, but the clock\nhad not struck twelve when she was born. When a child she mentioned\nthis circumstance to an old servant, adding that mamma was sure her\nbirthday was the 23rd, not the 24th, for she had inquired at the time.\n\"Ay, ay,\" said the old woman, turning to the child's nurse, \"mistress\nwould be very anxious about _that_, for bairns born after midnight see\nmore things than other folk.\"'\n\nThis superstition prevails on the Continent, and, in Denmark, Sunday\nchildren have prerogatives far from enviable. Thorpe[205] tells how\n'in Fyer there was a woman who was born on a Sunday, and, like other\nSunday children, had the faculty of seeing much that was hidden from\nothers. But, because of this property, she could not pass by the\nchurch at night without seeing a hearse or a spectre. The gift became\na perfect burden to her; she therefore sought the advice of a man\nskilled in such matters, who directed her, whenever she saw a spectre,\nto say, \"Go to Heaven!\" but when she met a hearse, \"Hang on!\" Happening\nsome time after to meet a hearse, she, through lapse of memory, cried\nout, \"Go to Heaven!\" and straightway the hearse rose in the air and\nvanished. Afterwards meeting a spectre, she said to it, \"Hang on!\" when\nthe spectre clung round her neck, hung on her back, and drove her down\ninto the earth before it. For three days her shrieks were heard before\nthe spectre would put an end to her wretched life.'\n\nIt is a popular article of faith in Scotland that those who are born on\nChristmas Day or Good Friday have the power of seeing spirits, and even\nof commanding them, a superstition to which Sir Walter Scott alludes\nin his 'Marmion' (stanza xxii.). The Spaniards imputed the haggard and\ndowncast looks of their Philip II. to the disagreeable visions to which\nthis privilege subjected him.\n\nAmong uncultured tribes it is supposed that spirits are visible to\nsome persons and not to others. The 'natives of the Antilles believed\nthat the dead appeared on the roads when one went alone, but not\nwhen many went together; and among the Finns the ghosts of the dead\nwere to be seen by the Shamans, but not by men generally unless in\ndreams.'[206] It is, too, as already noticed,[207] a popular theory\nwith savage races that the soul appears in dreams to visit the sleeper,\nand hence it has been customary for rude tribes to drink various\nintoxicating substances, under the impression that when thrown into\na state of ecstasy they would have pleasing visions. On this account\ncertain tribes on the Amazon use certain narcotic plants, producing an\nintoxication lasting twenty-four hours. During this period they are\nsaid to be subject to extraordinary visions, in the course of which\nthey acquire information on any subject they may specially require.\nFor a similar reason the inhabitants of North Brazil, when anxious\nto discover some guilty person, were in the habit of administering\nnarcotic drinks to seers, in whose dreams the criminal made his\nappearance. The Californian Indians would give children certain\nintoxicants, in order to gain from the ensuing vision information about\ntheir enemies. And the Darien Indians used the seeds of the _Datura\nsanguinea_ to produce in children prophetic delirium, during which they\nrevealed the whereabouts of hidden treasure.\n\nIn our own country various charms have been practised from time\nimmemorial for invoking spirits, and, as we shall show in a succeeding\nchapter, it is still a widespread belief that, by having recourse to\ncertain spells at special seasons in the year, one, if so desirous, may\nbe favoured with a view of the spirits of departed friends.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[204] _Folk-lore of Northern Counties_, p. 11.\n\n[205] _Northern Mythology_, ii. p. 203.\n\n[206] Tylor's _Primitive Culture_, i. p. 446.\n\n[207] Chap. II.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI\n\nGHOSTLY DEATH-WARNINGS\n\n\nThe belief in death-omens peculiar to certain families has long been\na fruitful source of superstition, and has been embodied in many a\nstrange legendary romance. Such family forewarnings of death are\nof a most varied description, and are still said to be of frequent\noccurrence. An ancient Roman Catholic family in Yorkshire, of the name\nof Middleton, is supposed to be apprised of the death of any one of its\nmembers by the apparition of a Benedictine nun; and Sir Walter Scott,\nin his 'Peveril of the Peak,' tells us how a certain spirit is commonly\nbelieved to attend on the Stanley family, warning them by uttering\na loud shriek of some approaching calamity, and especially 'weeping\nand bemoaning herself before the death of any person of distinction\nbelonging to the family.' In his 'Waverley,' too, towards the end of\nFergus MacIvor's history, he alludes to the Bodach Glas, or dark grey\nman. Mr. Henderson says,[208] 'Its appearance foretold death in the\nClan of ----, and I have been informed on the most credible testimony\nof its appearance in our own day. The Earl of E----, a nobleman alike\nbeloved and respected in Scotland, was playing on the day of his\ndecease on the links of St. Andrews at golf. Suddenly he stopped in the\nmiddle of the game, saying, \"I can play no longer, there is the Bodach\nGlas. I have seen it for the third time; something fearful is going to\nbefall me.\" He died that night as he was handing a candlestick to a\nlady who was retiring to her room.' According to Pennant, most of the\ngreat families in Scotland had their death-omens. Thus it is reported\n'the family of Grant Rothiemurcus had the \"Bodach au Dun,\" or the Ghost\nof the Hill; and the Kinchardines the \"Lham-dearg,\" or the Spectre\nof the Bloody Hand, of whom Sir Walter Scott has given the subjoined\naccount from Macfarlane's MSS.: \"There is much talk of a spirit called\n'Ly-erg,' who frequents the Glenmore. He appears with a red hand, in\nthe habit of a soldier, and challenges men to fight with him. As lately\nas the year 1669 he fought with three brothers, one after another, who\nimmediately died therefrom.\"'\n\nThe family of Gurlinbeg was haunted by Garlin Bodacher, and Tulloch\nGorms by May Moulach, or the Girl with the Hairy Left Hand.[209] The\nSynod gave frequent orders that inquiry should be made into the truth\nof this apparition, and one or two declared that they had seen one\nthat answered the description. An ancestor of the family of McClean,\nof Lochburg, was commonly reported, before the death of any of his\nrace, to gallop along the sea-beach announcing the death by dismal\nlamentations; and the Banshee of Loch Nigdal used to be arrayed in a\nsilk dress of greenish hue.\n\nReference is made elsewhere to the apparition of the Black Friar, the\nevil genius of the Byrons, supposed to forebode misfortune to the\nmember of the family to whom it appeared, and Mr. Hunt has described\nthe death-token of the Vingoes. It seems that above the deep caverns in\na certain part of their estate rises a cairn. On this, it is asserted,\nchains of fire were formerly seen ascending and descending, which were\nfrequently accompanied by loud and frightful noises. But it is affirmed\nthat these warnings have not been heard since the last male of the\nfamily came to a violent end.[210] Whenever two owls are seen perched\non the family mansion of the family of Arundel of Wardour, it is said\nthat one of its members will shortly die. The strange appearance of a\nwhite-breasted bird[211] was long thought to be a warning of death to a\nfamily of the name of Oxenham, in Devonshire.\n\nEqually strange is the omen with which the old baronet's family of\nClifton, of Clifton Hall, in Nottinghamshire, is forewarned when death\nis about to visit one of its members. It seems that, in this case, the\nomen takes the form of a sturgeon, which is seen forcing itself up\nthe River Trent, on whose bank the mansion of the Clifton family is\nsituated. With this curious tradition may be compared one connected\nwith the Edgewell Oak, which is commonly reported to indicate the\ncoming death of an inmate of Castle Dalhousie by the fall of one of\nits branches. Burke, in his 'Anecdotes of the Aristocracy' (1849, i.\n122), says that 'opposite the dining-room at Gordon Castle is a large\nand massive willow-tree, the history of which is somewhat singular.\nDuke Alexander, when four years of age, planted this willow in a tub\nfilled with earth; the tub floated about in a marshy piece of land,\ntill the shrub, expanding, burst its cerements, and struck root in the\nearth below; here it grew and prospered, till it attained the present\ngoodly size. The Duke regarded the tree with a sort of fatherly and\neven superstitious regard, half believing there was some mysterious\naffinity between its fortunes and his own. If an accident happened\nto the one by storm or lightning, some misfortune was not long in\nbefalling the other.'\n\nIt may be remembered, too, how in the Park of Chartley, near Lichfield,\nhas long been preserved the breed of the indigenous Staffordshire cow,\nof sand white colour. In the battle of Burton Bridge a black calf was\nborn, and the year of the downfall of the House of Ferrers happening\nabout the same time, gave rise to the tradition that the birth of a\nparti-coloured calf from the wild herd in Chartley Park is a sure omen\nof death within the same year to a member of the family. Thus, 'by\na noticeable coincidence,' says the 'Staffordshire Chronicle' (July\n1835), 'a calf of this description has been born whenever a death has\nhappened to the family of late years.' It appears that the death of the\nseventh Earl Ferrers, and of his Countess, and of his son, Viscount\nTamworth, and of his daughter, Mrs. William Joliffe, as well as the\ndeaths of the son and heir of the eighth Earl and of his daughter,\nLady Francis Shirley, were each preceded by the ominous birth of the\nfatal-hued calf. This tradition has been made the subject of a romantic\nstory entitled 'Chartley, or the Fatalist.'\n\nWalsingham, in his 'Ypodigma Neustri\u00e6' (1574, p. 153), informs us how,\non January 1, 1399, just before the civil wars broke out between the\nhouses of York and Lancaster, the River Ouse suddenly stood still at\na place called Harewood, about five miles from Bedford, so that below\nthis place the bed of the river was left dry for three miles together,\nand above it the waters swelled to a great height. The same thing is\nsaid to have happened at the same place in January 1648, which was just\nbefore the death of Charles\u00a0I., and many superstitious persons 'have\nsupposed both these stagnations of the Ouse to be supernatural and\nportentous; others suppose them to be the effect of natural causes,\nthough a probable natural cause has not yet been assigned.'[212]\n\nThe following curious anecdote, styled 'An Irish Water-fiend,' said\nto be perfectly well authenticated, is related in Burke's 'Anecdotes\nof the Aristocracy' (i. 329). The hero of the tale was the Rev. James\nCrawford, rector of the parish of Killina, co. Leitrim. In the autumn\nof 1777, Mr. Crawford had occasion to cross the estuary called 'The\nRosses,' on the coast of Donegal, and on a pillion behind him sat his\nsister-in-law, Miss Hannah Wilson. They had advanced some distance,\nuntil the water reached the saddle-laps, when Miss Wilson became so\nalarmed that she implored Mr. Crawford to get back as fast as possible\nto land. 'I do not think there can be danger,' replied Crawford, 'for\nI see a horseman crossing the ford not twenty yards before us.' Miss\nWilson also saw the horseman. 'You had better hail him,' said she,\n'and inquire the depth of the intervening water.' Crawford checked\nhis horse, and hallooed to the other horseman to stop. He did stop,\nand turning round, displayed a ghastly face grinning fiendishly at\nCrawford, who waited for no further parley, but returned as fast as he\ncould. On reaching home he told his wife of the spectral rencontre. The\npopular belief was that whenever any luckless person was foredoomed to\nbe drowned in that estuary, the fatal event was foreshown to the doomed\nperson by some such apparition as Crawford had seen. Despite this\nmonitory warning, Mr. Crawford again attempted to cross the ford of the\nRosses upon September 27, 1777, and was drowned in the attempt.\n\nA correspondent of the 'Gentleman's Magazine' speaks of a superstition\nprevalent among the peasantry in Worcestershire, that when storms,\nheavy rains, or other elemental strifes take place at the death of a\ngreat man, the spirit of the storm will not be appeased till the moment\nof burial. 'This superstition,' he adds, 'gained great strength on the\noccasion of the Duke of Wellington's funeral, when, after some weeks of\nheavy rain, and one of the highest floods ever known in this country,\nthe skies began to clear, and both rain and flood abated. It was a\ncommon observation in this part of the country, in the week before the\ninterment of his Grace, \"Oh, the rain won't give over till the Duke is\nburied.\"'\n\nIn Germany several princes have their warnings of death. In some\ninstances it is the roaring of a lion, and in others the howling of a\ndog. Occasionally a similar announcement was made by the tolling of\na bell, or the striking of a clock at an unusual time. Then there is\nthe time-honoured White Lady, whose mysterious appearance has from\ntime immemorial been supposed to indicate some event of importance.\nAccording to a popular legend, the White Lady is seen in many of the\ncastles of German princes and nobles, by night as well as by day,\nespecially when the death of any member of the family is imminent. She\nis regarded as the ancestress of the race, 'shows herself always in\nsnow white garments, carries a bunch of keys at her side, and sometimes\nrocks and watches over the children at night when their nurses sleep.'\nThe earliest instance of this apparition was in the sixteenth century,\nand is famous under the name of 'Bertha of Rosenberg,' in Bohemia. The\nwhite lady of other princely castles was identified with Bertha, and\nthe identity was accounted for by the intermarriages of other princely\nhouses with members of the house of Rosenberg,[213] in whose train the\nWhite Lady passed into their castles. According to Mrs. Crowe[214]\nthe White Lady was long supposed to be a Countess Agnes of Orlamunde;\nbut a picture of a princess called Bertha, or Perchta von Rosenberg,\ndiscovered some time since, was thought so to resemble the apparition,\nthat it is a disputed point which of the two ladies it is, or whether\nit is or is not the same apparition that is seen at different places.\nThe opinion of its being the Princess Bertha, who lived in the\nfifteenth century, was somewhat countenanced by the circumstance\nthat, at a period when, in consequence of the war, an annual benefit\nwhich she had bequeathed to the poor was neglected, the apparition\nappeared more frequently, and seemed to be unusually disturbed. The\n'Arch\u00e6ologia' (xxxiii.) gives an extract from Brereton's 'Travels' (i.\n33), which sets forth how the Queen of Bohemia told William Brereton\n'that at Berlin--the Elector of Brandenburg's house--before the death\nof any related in blood to that house, there appears and walks up and\ndown that house like unto a ghost in a white sheet, which walks during\nthe time of their sickness and until their death.'[215]\n\nCardan and Henningius Grosius relate a similar marvel of some of the\nancient families of Italy, the following being recorded by the latter\nauthority: 'Jacopo Donati, one of the most important families in\nVenice, had a child, the heir to the family, very ill. At night, when\nin bed, Donati saw the door of his chamber opened and the head of a man\nthrust in. Knowing that it was not one of his servants, he roused the\nhouse, drew his sword, went over the whole palace, all the servants\ndeclaring that they had seen such a head thrust in at the doors of\ntheir several chambers at the same hour; the fastenings were found all\nsecure, so that no one could have come in from without. The next day\nthe child died.'\n\nBurton, in his 'Anatomy of Melancholy,' says that near Rufus Nova,\nin Finland, Sweden, 'there is a lake in which, when the governor of\nthe castle dies, a spectrum is seen, in the habit of Arion, with a\nharp, and makes excellent music, like those clocks in Cheshire which\n(they say) presage death to the master of the family; or that oak in\nLanthadran Park, in Cornwall, which foreshows as much.'\n\nOne of the most celebrated ghosts of this kind in Britain is the White\nLady of Avenel, the creation of Sir Walter Scott. In the Highlands it\nwas long a common belief that many of the chiefs had some kind spirit\nto watch over the fortunes of their house. Popular tradition has many\nwell-known legends about white ladies, who generally dwell in forts and\nmountains as enchanted maidens waiting for deliverance. They delight\nto appear in warm sunshine to poor shepherds, or herd boys. They are\neither combing their long hair or washing themselves, drying wheat\nor spinning, they also point out treasures, &c. They wear snow-white\nor half-white black garments, yellow or green shoes, and a bunch of\nkeys at their side. All these and many other traits that appear in\nindividual legends may be traced back to a goddess of German mythology\nwho influences birth and death, and presides over the ordering of the\nhousehold.[216]\n\nAn interesting instance of a death-warning among uncultured tribes is\ntold by Mr. Lang,[217] on the authority of Mr. J.\u00a0J. Atkinson, late\nof Noumea, New Caledonia, which is curious because it offers among\nthe Kanekas an example of a belief current in Breton folk-lore. Mr.\nAtkinson relates how one day a Kaneka of his acquaintance paid a visit\nand seemed loth to go away. After some hesitation he explained that he\nwas about to die, and would never see his English friend again, as his\nfate was sealed. He had lately met in the wood one whom he took for\nthe Kaneka girl of his heart, but he became aware too late that she\nwas no mortal woman, but a wood-spirit in the guise of his beloved. As\nhe said, so it happened, for the unlucky man shortly afterwards died.\n'This is the ground-work,' adds Mr. Lang, 'of the old Breton ballad of\n\"Le Sieur Nann,\" who died after his intrigue with the forest spectre!'\nA version of the ballad is printed by De la Villemarque, Barzaz-Breiz\n(i. 41), and variants exist in Swedish, French, and even in a Lowland\nScotch version, sung by children in a kind of dancing game.[218]\nAnother story quoted by Mr. Lang tells how, in 1860, a Maneroo black\nfellow died in the service of Mr. Du Ve. 'The day before he died,\nhaving been ill some time, he said that in the night his father, his\nfather's friend, and a female spirit he could not recognise, had come\nto him, and said that he would die next day, and that they would wait\nfor him.' Mr. Du Ve adds that, 'though previously the Christian belief\nhad been explained to this man, it had entirely failed, and that he\nhad gone back to the belief of his childhood.' But cases of this kind,\nit would appear, are not uncommon among rude races, and have a special\nvalue to the student of comparative folk-lore.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[208] _Folk-lore of Northern Counties_, p. 344.\n\n[209] See _Sir Walter Scott's Poetical Works_, 1853, viii. p. 126.\n\n[210] _Popular Romances of West of England_, p. 372.\n\n[211] See Chapter on 'Phantom Birds.'\n\n[212] _Gentleman's Magazine_, 1764, p. 59.\n\n[213] See Moncure Conway's _Demonology and Devil Lore_.\n\n[214] _Night Side of Nature_, 1854, p. 315.\n\n[215] See _Notes and Queries_, 5th S. xi. p. 334.\n\n[216] Chambers's _Encyclop\u00e6dia_, 1886, x. p. 179.\n\n[217] The _Nineteenth Century_, April 1865, p. 628; _Myth, Ritual, and\nReligion_, 1887, i. p. 104.\n\n[218] Fison's _Kamilaroi and Kurnai_, p. 253.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII\n\n'SECOND SIGHT'\n\n\nThe power of seeing things invisible to others is commonly known as\n'second sight,' a peculiarity which the ancient Gaels called 'shadow\nsight.' The subject has, for many years past, excited popular interest,\nand demanded the attention even of our learned men. Dr. Johnson was so\nfavourably impressed with the notion of 'second sight,' that after,\nin the course of his travels, giving the subject full inquiry, he\nconfessed that he never could 'advance his curiosity to conviction,\nbut came away at last only willing to believe.' Sir Walter Scott, too,\nwent so far as to say that 'if force of evidence could authorise us\nto believe facts inconsistent with the general laws of nature, enough\nmight be produced in favour of the existence of \"second sight.\"' When\nwe recollect how all history and tradition abound in instances of this\nbelief, oftentimes apparently resting on evidence beyond impeachment,\nit is not surprising that it has numbered among its adherents advocates\nof most schools of thought. Although, too, of late years the theory\nof 'second sight' has not been so widely preached as formerly, yet it\nmust not be supposed that the stories urged in support of it are less\nnumerous, or that it has ceased to be regarded as great a mystery as in\ndays gone by.\n\nIn defining 'second sight' as a singular faculty 'of seeing an\notherwise invisible object without any previous means used by the\nperson that beholds it for that end,' we are at once confronted with\nthe well-known axiom that 'a man cannot be in two places at once,' a\nrule with which it is difficult to reconcile such statements as those\nrecorded by Pennant of a gentleman of the Hebrides said to have had\nthe gift of foreseeing visitors in time to get ready for them, or the\nanecdote which tells how St. Ambrose fell into a comatose state while\ncelebrating the mass at Milan, and on his recovery asserted that he had\nbeen present at St. Martin's funeral at Tours, where it was afterwards\ndeclared he had been seen. But it must be remembered that believers in\n'second sight' base their faith not so much on metaphysical definitions\nas on the evidence of daily experience, it being of immaterial\nimportance to them how impossible a certain doctrine may seem, provided\nit only has the testimony of actual witnesses in its favour. Hence,\nin spite of all arguments against the so-called 'second sight,' it is\nurged, on the other hand, that visions coinciding with real facts and\nevents occurring at a distance--oftentimes thousands of miles away--are\nbeheld by persons possessing this remarkable faculty. Thus Collins, in\nhis ode on the 'Popular Superstitions of the Highlands,' alludes to\nthis belief:\n\n    To monarchs dear, some hundred miles astray\n      Oft have they seen Fate give the fatal blow.\n      The seer, in Sky, shrieked as the blood did flow\n    When headless Charles warm on the scaffold lay.\n\nAccounts differ largely respecting the faculty of 'second sight.'\nSome make it hereditary, and according to an account communicated to\nAubrey from a gentleman at Strathspey, some of the seers acknowledged\nthe possibility of teaching it. A correspondent of the 'Gentleman's\nMagazine'[219] says 'the visions attendant on \"second sight\" are\nnot confined to solemn or important events. The future visit of a\nmountebank or piper, the arrival of common travellers, or, if possible,\nstill more trifling matters than these, are foreseen by the seers. Not\nonly aged men and women have the \"second sight,\" but also children,\nhorses, and cows. Children endowed with that faculty manifest it by\ncrying aloud at the very time a corpse appears to a seer. That horses\npossess it is likewise plain, from their violent and sudden starting\nwhen their rider, or a seer in company with him, sees a vision of\nany kind, by night or by day. It is observable of a horse, that he\nwill not go forwards towards the apparition but must be led round, at\nsome distance from the common road; his terror is evident, from his\nbecoming all over in a profuse sweat, although quite cool a moment\nbefore. Balaam's ass seems to have possessed this power or faculty;\nand, perhaps, what we improperly style a startlish horse may be one who\nhas the gift of the \"second sight.\" That cows have the \"second sight\"\nis proved by the following circumstance. If a woman, whilst milking\na cow, happen to have a vision of that kind, the cow runs away in a\ngreat fright at the same instant, and cannot, for some time, be brought\nto stand quietly.' It is further added, that persons who have not long\nbeen gifted with 'second sight,' after seeing a vision without doors,\non coming into a house, and approaching the fire, will immediately\nfall into a swoon. All those, too, who have the 'second sight' do not\nsee these appearances at the same time, but if one having this faculty\ndesignedly touches his fellow seer at the instant that a vision appears\nto him, in that case it will be seen by both.\n\nGoethe relates that as he was once riding along a footpath towards\nDrusenheim, he saw, 'not with the eyes of his body, but with those of\nhis spirit, himself on horseback coming towards him, in a dress that\nhe then did not possess. It was grey, and trimmed with gold. Eight\nyears afterwards he found himself, quite accidentally, on that spot, on\nhorseback, and in precisely that attire.'[220]\n\nIn 1652 a Scottish lawyer, Sir George Mackenzie, afterwards Lord\nTarbat, when driven to the Highlands by fear of the Government of\nCromwell, made very extensive inquiries concerning this supposed\nsupernatural faculty, and wrote an elaborate account of its\nmanifestations to the celebrated Robert Boyle, published in the\ncorrespondence of Samuel Pepys. Aubrey, too, devoted considerable\nattention to the subject, and in the year 1683 appeared the treatise\nof 'Theophilus Insularum,' with about one hundred cases gathered from\nvarious sources.\n\nIt was, however, in Scotland that this belief gained a specially\nstrong footing. In the year 1799, a traveller writing of the peasants\nof Kirkcudbrightshire relates: 'It is common among them to fancy that\nthey see the wraiths of persons dying which will be visible to one and\nnot to others present with him. Within these last twenty years it was\nhardly possible to meet with any person who had not seen many wraiths\nand ghosts in the course of his experience.' Indeed, we are told that\nmany of the Highlanders gained a lucrative livelihood by enlightening\ntheir neighbours on matters revealed to them through 'second sight;'\nand Mr. Jamieson writes: 'Whether this belief was communicated to\nthe Scotch by the northern nations who so long had possession of it,\nI shall not pretend to determine, but traces of the same wonderful\nfaculty may be found among the Scandinavians.' One of the best\nillustrations of this superstition as it prevailed in the Highlands is\nthat given by Dr. Johnson in his 'Journey to the Hebrides': 'A man on\na journey far from home falls from a horse; another, who is perhaps at\nwork about the house, sees him bleeding on the ground, commonly with a\nlandscape of the place where the accident befalls him. Another seer,\ndriving home his cattle, or wandering in idleness, or musing in the\nsunshine, is suddenly surprised by the appearance of a bridal ceremony,\nor funeral procession, and counts the mourners or attendants, of whom,\nif he knows them, he relates the names; if he knows them not, he can\ndescribe the dresses. Things distant are seen at the instant when they\nhappen.' 'At the Literary Club,' says Boswell, 'before Johnson came\nin, we talked of his \"Journey to the Western Islands,\" and of his\ncoming away \"willing to believe the 'second sight,'\" which seemed to\nexcite some ridicule. I was then so impressed with many of the stories\nwhich I had been told, that I avowed my conviction, saying, \"He is\nonly willing to believe--I do believe; the evidence is enough for me,\nthough not for his great mind. What will not fill a quart bottle will\nfill a pint bottle; I am filled with belief.\" \"Are you?\" said George\nColman; \"then cork it up.\"' It is not many years ago since a man lived\nat Blackpool who was possessed, as he pretended, by this faculty, and\nwas visited by persons from all parts anxious to gain information\nabout absent friends. This belief, it may be added, is not confined\nto our own country, curious traces of it being found among savage\ntribes. Thus Captain Jonathan Carver obtained from a Cree medicine man\na correct prophesy of the arrival of a canoe with news the following\nday at noon; and we are told how, when Mr. Mason Brown was travelling\nwith the _voyageurs_ on the Coppermine river, he was met by Indians of\nthe very band he was seeking, these having been despatched by their\nmedicine-man, who, on being interrogated, affirmed that 'he saw them\ncoming, and heard them talk on their journey.'\n\nAgain, persons gifted with 'second sight' are said not only to know\nparticular events at a distance precisely at the same moment as they\nhappen, but also to have a foreknowledge of them before they take\nplace, for--\n\n                                    As the sun,\n    Ere it is risen, sometimes paints its image\n    In the atmosphere, so often do the spirits\n    Of great events stride on before the events,\n    And in to-day already walks to-morrow.\n\nDr. Tylor, in his 'Primitive Culture,' relates the case of a Shetland\nlady who affirmed how, some years ago, she and a girl leading her pony\nrecognised the familiar figure of one Peter Sutherland, whom they knew\nto be at the time in Edinburgh. He turned a corner, and they saw him no\nmore, but next week came the news of his sudden death.\n\nA curious old story illustrative of 'second sight,' of which there\nare several versions, is that of 'Booty's Ghost,' an account of which\noccurs in Kirby's 'Wonderful and Eccentric Museum' (ii. 247). It was an\naction for slander of a deceased husband brought by the widow, and the\nfollowing extract, which contains an outline of the strange tale, is\nfrom the journal of Mr. Spinks:\n\n'_Friday, May 15, 1687._--We had the observation of Mr. Booty this day.\nCaptain Barrisby, Captain Bristowe, Captain Brown, I, and Mr. Ball,\nmerchant, went on shore in Captain Barnaby's boat to shoot rabbits upon\nStromboli; and when we had done, we called our men together by us, and\nabout half an hour and fourteen minutes after three in the afternoon,\nto our great surprise, we all of us saw two men come running towards\nus with such swiftness that no living man could run half so fast as\nthey did run, when all of us heard Captain Barnaby say, \"Lord, bless\nme! the foremost is old Booty, my next door neighbour,\" but he said\nhe did not know the other that run behind; he was in black clothes,\nand the foremost was in grey. Then Captain Barnaby desired all of us\nto take an account of the time, and put it down in our pocket-books,\nand when we got on board we wrote it in our journals; for we saw them\ninto the flames of fire, and there was a great noise which greatly\naffrighted us all, for we none of us ever saw or heard the like before.\nCaptain Barnaby said he was certain it was old Booty, which he saw\nrunning over Stromboli and into the flames of hell. It is stated that\nCaptain Barnaby told his wife, and she told somebody else, and that\nit was afterwards told to Mrs. Booty, who arrested Captain Barnaby in\na thousand pound action for what he had said of her husband. Captain\nBarnaby gave bail to it, and it came on to a trial in the Court of\nKing's Bench, and they had Mr. Booty's wearing apparel brought into\nCourt, and the sexton of the parish, and the people that were with him\nwhen he died; and we swore to our journals, and it came to the same\ntime within two minutes. Ten of our men swore to the buttons on his\ncoat, and that they were covered with the same sort of cloth his coat\nwas made of, and so it proved. The jury asked Mr. Spinks if he knew Mr.\nBooty. He answered, \"I never saw him till he ran by me on the burning\nmountain.\"'\n\nThe Chief Justice from April 1687 to February 1689 was Sir Robert\nWright. His name is not given in the report, but the judge said: 'Lord,\nhave mercy on me, and grant that I may never see what you have seen.\nOne, two, or three may be mistaken, but thirty can never be mistaken.'\nSo the widow lost her suit.[221]\n\nIt appears, also, that coming events are mostly forecasted by various\nsymbolic omens which generally take the form of spectral exhibitions.\nThus, a phantom shroud seen in the morning on a living person is said\nto betoken his death in the course of the day; but if seen late in\nthe evening, no particular time is indicated, further than that it\nwill take place within the year. If, too, the shroud does not cover\nthe whole body, the fulfilment of the vision may be expected at some\ndistant period.\n\nBut these kind of omens vary largely in different countries; and, on\nthe Continent, where much misplaced faith is attached to them, they are\nfrequently the source of much needless dread.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[219] 1822, Part ii. pp. 598, 599.\n\n[220] Quoted in Mrs. Crowe's _Night Side of Nature_, 1854, p. 181.\n\n[221] See _Notes and Queries_, 1st S. iii. 170.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII\n\nCOMPACTS BETWEEN THE LIVING AND DEAD\n\n\nSometimes ghosts appear in consequence of an agreement made before\ndeath with some particular friend, that he or she who first died should\nappear to the survivor. Numerous tales are told illustrative of this\nbelief, one of the best authenticated being that recorded by Lord\nBrougham,[222] who, speaking of his intimate friend at the University,\nwrites: 'There was no divinity class, but we frequently in our walks\ndiscussed and speculated upon many grave subjects, among others, on\nthe immortality of the soul and on a future state. This question and\nthe possibility, I will not say of ghosts walking, but of the dead\nappearing to the living, were subjects of much speculation; and we\nactually committed the folly of drawing up an agreement written with\nour blood, to the effect that whichever of us died first should appear\nto the other, and thus solve any doubts we had entertained of the\n\"life after death.\"' Years afterwards--on December 19, 1799--when Lord\nBrougham had almost forgotten the existence of his friend, as he was\ntaking a warm bath, he appeared to him; but, as he adds, 'No doubt I\nhad fallen asleep, and the appearance presented to my eyes was a dream.\nI recollected quickly enough our old discussion, and the bargain we\nhad made. I could not discharge from my mind the impression that my\nfriend must have died, and that his appearance to me was to be received\nby me as a proof of his future state.' In October 1862 Lord Brougham\nmade this postscript: 'I have just been copying out from my journal the\naccount of this strange dream--_certissima mortis imago_. And now to\nfinish the story begun about sixty years since. Soon after my return to\nEdinburgh, there arrived a letter from India, announcing G----'s death,\nand stating that he had died on the 19th of December.'\n\nA curious story is told by John Darley, Carthusian monk, who relates\nthat, as he was attending upon the death bed of Father Raby, in 1534,\nhe said to the expiring man, 'Good Father Raby, if the dead can visit\nthe living, I beseech you to pay a visit to me by-and-by;' and Raby\nanswered, 'Yes;' immediately after which he drew his last breath. But\non the same afternoon, about five o'clock, as Darley was meditating\nin his cell, the departed man suddenly appeared to him in a monk's\nhabit, and said to him, 'Why do you not follow our father?' And I\nreplied, 'Why?' He said, 'Because he is a martyr in heaven next to the\nangels.' Then I said, 'Where are all our fathers who did like to him?'\nHe answered and said, 'They are all pretty well, but not so well as he\nis.' And then I asked him how he was, and he said 'Pretty well.' And\nI said, 'Father, shall I pray for you?' To which he replied, 'I am as\nwell as need be, but prayer is at all times good,' and with these words\nhe vanished.[223]\n\nThere is the well-known Beresford ghost tale, about which so many\naccounts have been given. It appears that Lord Tyrone and Miss Blank\nwere orphans, educated in the same house 'in the principles of Deism.'\nWhen they were about fourteen years old their preceptor died, and their\nnew guardian tried to persuade them to embrace revealed religion. The\nboy and girl stuck to Deism. But they made a compact, that he or she\nwho died first should appear to the survivor, 'to declare what religion\nwas most approved by the Supreme Being.' Miss Blank married St. Martin\nBeresford, and one day she appeared at breakfast with a pale face, and\na black band round her wrist. On her death-bed she explained how the\nghost of Lord Tyrone had appeared to her at the hour of his death, and\nhad correctly prophesied her future: 'He struck my wrist; his hand\nwas as cold as marble; in a moment the sinews shrank up, every nerve\nwithered.... I bound a piece of black ribbon round my wrist.' The black\nribbon was formerly in the possession of Lady Betty Cobb, who, during\nher long life, was ever ready to attest the truth of this narration,\nas are, to the present hour, the whole of the Tyrone and Beresford\nfamilies.[224]\n\nAs Mr. Andrew Lang points out in the 'Nineteenth Century,'[225] Lord\nTyrone merely did what many ghosts had done before in the matter of\ntouching Lady Beresford's wrist. Thus, as he says, according to Henry\nMore, 'one' (bogie) 'took a relation of Melanchthon's by the hand, and\nso scorched her that she bore the mark of it to her dying day.' Before\nMelanchthon the anecdote was improved by Eudes de Shirton, in a sermon,\nwho tells how a certain clerk, Serlon, made with a friend the covenant\nwhich Miss Blank made with Lord Tyrone. The friend died, and appeared\nto Serlon 'in a parchment cloak, covered with the finest writing in the\nworld.' Being asked how he fared, he said that this cloak, a punishment\nfor his love of logic, weighed heavier than lead, and scorched like the\nshirt of Nessus. Then he held out his hand, and let fall a drop which\nburned Serlon to the bone--\n\n    And evermore that master wore\n    A covering on his wrist.\n\nBefore Eudes de Shirton, William of Malmesbury knew this anecdote. His\ncharacters are two clerks, an Epicurean and a Platonist, who made the\nusual compact that the first to die should appear to the survivor, and\nstate whether Plato's ideas, or Epicurus in his atoms, were the correct\nreply to the conundrum of the universe. The visit was to be paid within\nthirty days of the death. One of the philosophical pair was killed, and\nappeared to the other, but after the time arranged, explaining that he\nhad been unable to keep his appointment earlier, and, stretching out\nhis hand, let fall three burning drops of blood, which branded the brow\nof the psychical inquirer.\n\nMrs. Grant, in her 'Superstitions of the Highlands,' tells how a widow,\nreturning home through a wood at dusk, was met by her husband's ghost,\n'who led her carefully along a difficult bridge, but left a blue mark\non her wrist which the neighbours had opportunities of seeing during\nthe week; she survived the adventure.' A similar circumstance is\nrelated by Richard Baxter,[226] in connection with a lady, soon after\nthe Restoration, when Parliament was passing Acts which pressed sore on\nthe dissenters. While praying for the deliverance of the faithful from\nthe evils which threatened them, 'it was suddenly given her, that there\nshould be a speedy deliverance, even in a very short time. She desired\nto know which way, and it being set strongly on her as a revelation,\nshe prayed earnestly that if this were a true divine impulse and\nrevelation, God would certify her by some sign, and she ventured to\nchoose the sign herself, and laid her hand on the outside of the upper\npart of her leg, begging of God, that if it were a true answer, He\nwould make on that place some visible mark. There was presently the\nmark of black spots, like as if a hand had burnt it, which her sister\nwitnessed, there being no such sign before.'\n\nIn Scott's well-known ballad, the phantom knight impresses an indelible\nmark on the lady who has been his paramour, and in the Tartan stories,\nwritten by a Frenchman, a ghost appears to Prince Faruk in a dream, and\ntouches him on the arm. The Prince finds the mark of the burn when he\nawakes.[227] There are numerous stories of this kind scattered here and\nthere in the traditionary lore of this and other countries, and such\nindelible marks, left by ghosts of their visits, have been held as a\nmysterious proof of their materialistic power.\n\nA correspondent of 'Notes and Queries' (2nd S. v. 343) vouches for\nthe authenticity of the following 'incontrovertible facts,' which, he\nsays, 'occurred to a friend of my own, and to the companion of his\nearly youth, who, having obtained a cadetship, went to India.' The\nstory runs thus. 'The former was towards evening driving across a long\nbarren heath. Suddenly, by his side in the vehicle, was seen the figure\nof his playmate. Happening to turn his head from him to the horse,\nand on looking again, the apparition had vanished. Remembering the\nconversation that they had held together at parting, he doubted not but\nthat his friend was at that moment dead, and that in his appearing to\nhim, he was come in the fulfilment of their mutual promise, in order to\nremove all pre-existing doubts as to the possibility of a denizen of a\nhigher sphere appearing to its friend on earth. By the next Indian Mail\nwas received intelligence of his death, showing the exact coincidence\nas to the time of the two events.'\n\nIn the biography of William Smellie is the history of a compact he made\nwith his friend William Greenlaw, whereby it was mutually agreed that\nwhoever died first should return and give the other an account of his\ncondition after death. Shortly after the anniversary of his death, the\nghost of Greenlaw is reported to have appeared to Smellie, and in a\nsolemn tone informed him 'that he had experienced great difficulties\nin procuring permission to return to this earth, according to their\nagreement; that he was now in a much better world than the one he had\nleft,' but added 'that the hopes and wishes of its inhabitants were\nby no means satisfied, as, like those of the lower world, they still\nlooked forward in the hope of eventually reaching a still happier state\nof existence.' Another case of a similar kind is that of the appearance\nof the Rev. Theodore Alois Buckley, formerly one of the chaplains of\nChrist Church, Oxford, to his friend Mr. Kenneth Mackenzie. The story,\nas narrated in Newton Crosland's 'Theory of Apparitions,' is, that\nabout the year 1850 the two friends, when at Oxford, entered into\na compact of the kind already described, the signal of appearance\narranged between them being the laying of a ghostly hand on the\nforehead of the surviving friend. On January 30, 1856, Mr. Buckley\ndied, and on February 2, it is said, kept the agreement, for as Mr.\nMackenzie 'was lying in bed, watching the candle expiring, he felt\nplaced over one eye and his forehead a cool, damp hand, and on looking\nup saw Buckley in his ordinary apparel, with his portfolio under his\narm standing by his bedside.'\n\nThe Duchess of Mazarin is said to have appeared to Madame de Beauclair,\nin accordance with a solemn compact made in life, that whoever died\nfirst should return, if it were possible, and inform the other of the\nexistence of the future state. But it was some years after her death\nthat the Duchess kept her promise, and when she did, it was to make\nthis announcement: 'Beauclair, between the hours of twelve and one this\nnight you will be with me.' The non-appearance of her friend's spirit\nfor so long had caused Madame de Beauclair to doubt the non-existence\nof a future life.[228]\n\nBut in some cases such compacts have not been kept. Dr. Chance tells us\nin 'Notes and Queries' (6th S. ii. 501) that in 1846-1847, as a young\nman, he made such a compact, but when his friend died in 1878 he did\nnot appear, neither has he ever done so. To quote Dr. Chance's words:\n'It is true my friend died about noon, and that I knew of his death the\nsame evening, so that if he had appeared to me I should have learnt\nnothing new, whilst in most, if not all, of the recorded cases the\napparition has been the first to convey the intelligence of the death.\nBut this did not exonerate my friend from his promise; and if he did\nnot keep it, I must take it that he could not come, for nothing but\ninability would have kept me from fulfilling my share of the compact if\nI had been called upon to do so.'\n\nIn Mather's 'Remarkable Providences' the failure of a spirit to keep\na promise of appearing after its separation from the body is referred\nto, the author being of opinion that there is great hazard attending\nsuch covenants. To quote his words: 'It may be after men have made\nsuch agreements, devils may appear to them pretending to be their\ndeceased friends, and thereby their souls may be drawn in woful\nsnares. Who knoweth whether God will permit the persons, who have\nthus confederated, to appear in the world again after their death?\nAnd if not, then the survivor will be under great temptation unto\nAtheism, as it fell out with the late Earl of Rochester, who (as is\nreported in his life by Dr. Burnet) did in the year 1665 enter into a\nformal engagement with another gentleman, not without ceremonies of\nreligion, that if either of them died, he should appear, and give the\nother notice of the future state if there were any. After this the\nother gentleman was killed, but did never appear after his death to\nthe Earl of Rochester, which was a great snare to him during the rest\nof his life. Though, when God awakened the Earl's conscience upon his\ndeath-bed, he could not but acknowledge that one who had so corrupted\nthe natural principles of truth as he had done, had no reason to expect\nthat such an extraordinary thing should be done for his conviction. Or\nif such agreement should necessitate an apparition, how would the world\nbe confounded with spectres; how many would probably be scared out of\ntheir wits; or what curious questions would vain men be proposing about\nthings which are (and it is meet they should be) hid from mortals?'\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[222] _Life and Times of Lord Brougham_, written by himself, 1871.\n\n[223] See Brand's _Popular Antiquities_, 1870, iii. p. 117.\n\n[224] Dr. F. G. Lee: _Glimpses of the Supernatural_; the subject has\nbeen discussed in _Notes and Queries_.\n\n[225] _Comparative Study of Ghost Stories_, April 1885, pp. 630, 631.\n\n[226] _Certainty of a World of Spirits_, p. 181.\n\n[227] Yardley's _Supernatural in Fiction_, p. 94.\n\n[228] T. M. Jarvis: _Accredited Ghost Stories_, 1823\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX\n\nMINERS' GHOSTS\n\n\nMines have long been supposed to be haunted, a fact which is no cause\nof wonderment, considering the many unearthly sounds--such as 'the\ndripping of water down the shafts, the tunnelling of distant passages,\nthe rumbling of trains from some freshly-exploded lode'--constantly\nto be heard there. In early times it was thought that all mines of\ngold, &c. were guarded by evil spirits, a belief to which Falstaff\nalludes in 2 Henry IV. (Act iv. sc. 3), where he speaks of 'learning\na mere hoard of gold kept by a devil.' The Peruvian Indians affirm\nthat the treasures in emerald mines are guarded by evil spirits, and\nStevenson, speaking of the emerald mine in the neighbourhood of Los\nEsmeraldos, writes: 'I never visited it, owing to the superstitious\ndread of the natives, who assured me it was enchanted, and guarded by\na dragon, which poured forth thunder and lightning on those who dared\nto ascend the river.' The spirits that haunt mines are considered to be\nunfriendly, because, as an old writer quoted by Reginald Scot remarks,\n'they do exceedingly envy every man's benefit in the discovery of\nhidden treasure, ever haunting such places where money is concealed,\nand diffusing malevolent and poisonous influences to blast the lives\nand limbs of those that dare attempt the discovery thereof.' And\n'modern authors,' adds Fuller, 'avouch that malignant spirits haunt the\nplaces where precious metals are found, as if the devil did there sit\nabrood to hatch them, cunningly pretending an unwillingness to part\nwith them; whereas, indeed, he gains more by one mine minted out into\nmoney than by a thousand concealed in the earth.'\n\nIt is supposed by the people who live in the neighbourhood of Largo\nLaw, in Fife, that there is a very rich mine of gold under and near\nthe mountain, which has never yet been properly searched for. So\nconvinced are they that this is so, that, whenever they see the wool\nof a sheep's side tinged with yellow, they think it has acquired that\ncolour from having lain above the gold of the mine. Many years ago a\nghost made its appearance upon the spot, supposed to be acquainted with\nthe secret of the mine, but, as it required to be spoken to before it\nwould condescend to speak, the question arose as to who should accost\nit. At length a shepherd volunteered to ask the ghost the cause of its\nhaunting this locality, and to his surprise it proved very affable,\npromising to appear on a particular night at eight o'clock, when, said\nthe spirit,\n\n    If Auchindownie cock disna craw,\n    And Balmain horn disna blaw,\n    I'll tell ye where the gowd mine is in Largo Law.\n\nTrue to its promise, the ghost came ready to divulge the secret, when\nTammie Norrie, the cowherd of Balmain, either through obstinacy or\nforgetfulness, 'blew a blast both loud and dread,' at which the ghost\nvanished, after exclaiming--\n\n    Woe to the man that blew the horn\n    For out of the spot he shall ne'er be borne.\n\nThe unfortunate horn-blower was struck dead on the spot, and as it was\nfound impossible to remove his body, which seemed, as it were, pinned\nto the earth, a cairn of stones was raised over it, known still as\nNorrie's Law, and which is regarded as uncanny by the peasantry.[229]\n\nAgain, frequent accidents in mines were thought to be a proof of the\npotency 'of the metallic spirits, which so tormented the workmen in\nGerman mines, and in those of other countries, by blindness, giddiness,\nand sudden sickness, that they were obliged frequently to abandon mines\nwell known to be rich in metals.'[230]\n\nStrange noises are oftentimes a puzzle to the miner, and suggest a\nsupernatural agency. In the mine at Wheal Vor, where there appears to\nhave been a general belief in 'tokens' and supernatural appearances, a\nman one morning, on being relieved from his turn as watcher, reported\nthat during the night he had heard a sound like the emptying of a\ncartload of rubbish in front of the account house where he was staying.\nOn going out nothing was to be seen. The man, considering the strange\nsound as a warning, pined away and died within a few weeks.\n\nThe Cornish miner too has long been a firm believer in the existence of\na mysterious being known as the 'Knocker.' The late Charles Kingsley,\nin his 'Yeast,' asks, 'Who are the knockers?' To which question\nTregarra answers: 'They are the ghosts, the miners hold, of the old\nJews that crucified Our Lord, and were sent for slaves by the Roman\nEmperors to work the mines.... We used to break into the old shafts and\nadits which they had made, and find fine old stag's horn pickaxes, that\ncrumbled to pieces when we brought them to grass. And they say that\nif a man will listen on a still night about these shafts, he may hear\nthe ghosts of them at work, knocking and picking, as clear as if there\nwas a man at work in the next level.' In some districts the knockers\nare designated 'the buccas,' and, generally speaking, they work upon\nproductive lodes only. An interesting illustration of these strange\nbeings is given in Carne's 'Tales of the West,' wherein we read how\n'the rolling of the barrows, the sound of the pickaxes, and the fall of\nthe earth and stones, are distinctly heard through the night, often,\nno doubt, the echo of their own labours; but sometimes continued long\nafter the labour has ceased, and occasionally voices seem to mingle\nwith them.'\n\nIn Wales, when a mysterious thumping, not produced by any human being,\nis heard, and when, in examining the spot from whence the sound\nproceeded, indications of ore oftentimes are detected, the sturdiest\nincredulity is shaken.[231] In such cases, 'science points out that\nthe noise may be produced by the action of water upon the loose stones\nin fissures and pot-holes of the mountain limestone, and does actually\nsuggest the presence of metals.' Furthermore, as the late Mr. Wirt\nSikes rightly suggests, 'in the days before a Priestley had caught and\nbottled that demon which exists in the shape of carbonic acid gas, when\nthe miner was smitten dead by an invisible foe in the deep bowels of\nthe earth, it was natural that his awe-struck companions should ascribe\nthe mysterious blow to a supernatural enemy. When the workman was\nassailed suddenly by what we now call fire-damp, which killed him and\nhis companions upon the dark rocks, scorching, burning, and killing,\nthose who survived were not likely to question the existence of the\nmine-fiend.' Hence, too, originated the superstition of basilisks in\nmines, which destroyed with their terrible gaze.[232]\n\nIn the 'Colliery Guardian' for May 13, 1863, many strange superstitions\nare described, in which it is stated that the pitmen in the Midland\nCounties have or had a belief unknown to the north, in aerial\nwhistlings warning them against the pit. Who or what the invisible\nmusicians were, nobody pretended to know, but they generally consisted\nof seven, as the 'Seven Whistlers' is the name they bear to this\nday.[233] An instance of this superstition is given in the 'Times'\nof September 21, 1874. Owing to certain nocturnal sounds, a large\nnumber of the men employed at some of the Bedworth collieries in\nNorth Warwickshire refused to descend the coal-pits in which they\nwere employed. During Sunday it was stated that these sounds had been\ndistinctly heard in the neighbourhood of Bedworth, and the result was\nthat on the following morning, when labour should have been resumed,\nthe men pointedly refused to work.\n\nThe Northern mines were supposed to be haunted by two goblins. One\nwas a spiteful elf, who indicated his presence only by the mischief\nhe perpetrated. He rejoiced in the name of 'Cutty Soams,' and appears\n'to have amused himself by severing the rope-traces or soams, by\nwhich an assistant putter, honoured by the title of \"the fool,\" is\nyoked to the tub. The strands of hemp, which were left all sound in\nthe board at \"kenner-time,\" were found next morning severed in twain.\n\"'Cutty Soams' has been at work,\" would the fool and his driver say,\ndolefully knotting the cord.' The other goblin was no other than a\nghostly putter, and his name was 'Bluecap.' Sometimes the miners would\nperceive a light blue flame flicker through the air, and settle on\na full coal-tub, which immediately moved towards the rolley way, as\nthough impelled by the sturdiest sinews in the working. Industrious\nBluecap was at his vocation, but he required to be paid for his\nservices; therefore, once a fortnight, his wages were left for him in a\nsolitary corner of the mine. If they were a farthing below his due, the\nindignant Bluecap would not pocket a stiver; if they were a farthing\nabove his due, Bluecap left the surplus where he found it. A hewer was\nasked if Bluecap's wages were nowadays to be left for him, whether they\nwould be appropriated. The man shrewdly answered he thought they would\nbe taken by Bluecap, or somebody else.\n\nBut as most mines are productive, more or less, of the same weird\nechoes, we find similar stories current in different localities of\nstrange hammerings and knockings. A story is told in North Ayrshire\nof a miner who, day by day, heard the sounds of a pick on the other\nside of the coal into which he was digging, which so terrified him,\nthat at last he sought the help of a minister to protect him 'from\nthe machinations of the devil.' The good man having asked him how\nmany 'holings'--the depth of coal displaced by one blasting--there\nwere before the wall between him and the evil spirit could be broken\nthrough, sent him back to work until there was only one 'holing'\nbetween them. Then he was to take a piece of bread, and crumble it all\ndown in a train to the mouth of the pit, and again resuming his pick,\nto strike through the dividing coal. The moment this was done, he was\nto cry 'The hole's mine!' and make for the mouth of the pit as fast as\nhe could. These directions the miner carefully followed, but he had a\nnarrow escape, for he had no sooner reached his place of safety than\nthe walls of the pit came close together with a thundering crash.\n\nAnother story, recorded in 'Communications with the Unseen World,'\ntells how, for many years, the overseer of a mine at Whitehaven was\na Cumberland man, but being found guilty of some unfair proceedings,\nhe was dismissed by the proprietors from his post, though employed in\nan inferior one. The new overseer was a Northumberland man, to whom\nthe degraded overseer bore the strongest hatred, and was heard to say\nthat some day he would be his ruin. One day they were both destroyed\nby fire-damp, and it was believed in the mine that, preferring revenge\nto life, the ex-overseer had taken his successor, less acquainted than\nhimself with the localities of the mine, into a place where he knew the\nfire-damp to exist, without a safety lamp, and had thus contrived his\ndestruction. But, ever after, in the place where the two men perished,\ntheir voices might be heard high in dispute, the Northumbrian burr\nbeing distinctly audible, and also the well-known pronunciation of the\ntreacherous murderer.\n\nThe mysterious apparition of a woman who committed suicide was supposed\nto haunt Polbreen Mine, Cornwall, locally known as 'Dorcas.' She\nappeared to take a malicious delight in tormenting the miner when\nat work, calling him by his name, and enticing him from his duties.\nThis was carried on by her to such an extent that when 'a tributer'\nhad made a poor month, he was commonly asked if he had 'been chasing\nDorcas.' On one occasion only, Dorcas is said to have acted kindly. It\nis stated[234] that two miners, who may be styled Martin and Jacky,\nwere at work in their end, and at the time busily engaged 'beating the\nborer.' The name of Jack was distinctly uttered between the blows. He\nstopped and listened--all was still. They proceeded with their task, a\nblow on the iron rod--'Jacky!' Another blow--'Jacky!' They pause--all\nis silent. 'Well, thee wert called, Jacky,' said Martin, 'go and see.'\nJacky, however, disregarded the sound, work was resumed, and 'Jacky!\nJacky! Jacky!' was called more vehemently and distinctly than before.\nJacky threw down his hammer, resolved to satisfy himself as to the\nperson who was calling him. But he had not proceeded many yards from\nthe spot on which he had been standing at work, when a mass of rock\nfell from the roof of the level weighing many tons, which would have\ncrushed him to death. Martin had been stooping, holding the borer, and\na projecting corner of rock just above him turned off the falling mass.\nHe was securely enclosed, but he was extricated without injury. Jack\ndeclared to his dying day that he owed his life to Dorcas.\n\nA similar experience is recorded by Mr. John Lean in the 'West Briton,'\nwho relates how, when he was underground hundreds of fathoms distant\nfrom any other human being at Wheal Jewell, a mine in the parish of\nGwennap, 'as he was walking slowly and silently through the level, his\nthoughts, as it were, absorbed, examining the rich course of copper\nore in the roof or back, he was aroused as though by an audible voice,\n\"You are in the winze!\" He at once threw himself flat on his back in\nthe bottom of the level, and on shifting from this posture to that of\na sitting one, he discovered that his heels were on the verge of the\nend of a winze, left exposed and open, embracing all the width of the\ngunnis, communicating with the next level, ten fathoms below. At the\nmoment he received this singular warning, his foot was lifted for the\nnext step over the mouth of this abyss, a step to eternity, had it not\nthus been prevented.'\n\nOn the Continent, similar tales of phantoms haunting mines are current.\nIn the mines about Clausthal and Andreasberg a spectre was formerly\nseen who went by the name of the 'Bergm\u00f6nch.' He was clad as a monk,\nbut was of gigantic stature, and always carried in his hand a large\ntallow candle, which never went out. When the miners entered in the\nmorning, he would stand at the aperture with his light, letting them\npass under it. It appears that the Bergm\u00f6nch was formerly a burgomaster\nor director, who took such delight in mining that, when at the point\nof death, he prayed that instead of resting in heaven, he might wander\nabout till the last day, over hill and dale, in pits and shafts, and\nsuperintend the mining. To those towards whom he is well disposed he\nrenders many a kind service, and appears to them in a human form and\nof ordinary stature; while to others he appears in his true form. His\neyes sprout forth flames, and are like coach-wheels; his legs are\nlike spiders' webs.[235] Associated, too, with the German miners'\nsuperstitious fancies is the belief in the 'Cobal,' or 'Kobold,'\na supernatural being who is generally malicious, and rarely heard\nbut when mischief is near. But still more to be feared were the\n'Knauff-kriegen,' of whom Professor Ramazzini of Padua thus writes:\n\n'I took the story of devils haunting mines to be fabulous, until I\nwas undeceived by a skilful Hanoverian operator in metals, who is now\nemployed by our duke in tracing the metallic veins in the mountainous\nparts of Modena. For this man told me seriously, that in the Hanoverian\nmines the diggers have frequent falls, which they say are occasioned by\ntheir being knocked down by devils, which they call \"Knauff-kriegen,\"\nand that after such falls they often die in the space of three or four\ndays; but if they outlive that time they recover.'\n\nFrench mines are haunted, and many tales are told of a spectral hare\nwhich at times is seen. One story tells how 'a miner was frightened\none day by seeing a white object run and conceal itself in an iron\npipe. He went forward, and stopped up the two ends of the tube, and\ncalled one of his fellow men to examine the pipe with him. They did\nso, but found nothing within, the hare spirit had vanished.'[236]\n'Similarly at Wheal Vor,' says Mr. Hunt,[237] 'it has always been and\nis now believed that a fatal accident in the mine is presaged by the\nappearance of a hare, or white rabbit, in one of the engine houses. The\nmen solemnly declare that they have chased these appearances till they\nwere hemmed in apparently, without being able to catch them; and they\ntell how the white rabbit on one occasion was run into a \"windbore\"\nlying on the ground, and though stopped in, escaped.' With this belief\nmay be compared one which was common in Sussex a few years ago,\nclosely resembling the French superstition of the F\u00e9tiches, animals\nof a dazzling whiteness which appear only in the night-time, and\nvanish as soon as anyone attempts to touch them. A blacksmith's wife\nat Ashington, the daughter of a small farmer, was found one morning\nmuch depressed in mind, and on being questioned as to the cause of it\nsaid, 'I shall hear bad news before the day is over; for late last\nnight as I was waiting for my husband what should I see on looking out\nof the window, lying close under it, but a thing like a duck, yet a\ngreat deal whiter than it ought to have been, whiter than any snow.' It\nwas suggested that it might have been a neighbour's cat, and that it\nlooked whiter than usual on account of the moonlight. 'Oh, dear no!'\nshe replied, 'it was no cat, nor anything alive; those white things\nwere sent as warnings,' but no sad news came as she expected.[238] She\nnevertheless remained firmly convinced that a warning of some kind had\nbeen supernaturally sent to her.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[229] Chambers's _Popular Rhymes of Scotland_, pp. 238, 239.\n\n[230] Jones's _Credulities Past and Present_, p. 123.\n\n[231] See Hunt's _Popular Romances of West of England_.\n\n[232] Wirt Sikes: _British Goblins_, p. 26.\n\n[233] See Chapter 'Phantom Animals.'\n\n[234] Hunt's _Popular Romances of West of England_, p. 354.\n\n[235] Thorpe's _Northern Mythology_, iii. p. 96.\n\n[236] Jones's _Credulities Past and Present_, p. 138.\n\n[237] _Popular Romances of West of England_, p. 350.\n\n[238] _Folk-lore Record_, i. p. 54.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX\n\nTHE BANSHEE\n\n\nOne of the grandest and wildest legends of Ireland is that relating\nto the Banshee--a mysterious personage, generally supposed to be the\nharbinger of some approaching misfortune. The name of the Banshee 'is\nvariously pronounced Banshi and Benshee, being translated by different\nscholars, the \"Female Fairy,\" the \"Woman of Peace,\" the \"Lady of\nDeath,\" the \"Angel of Death,\" the \"White Lady of Sorrow,\" the \"Nymph of\nthe Air,\" and the \"Spirit of the Air.\"' The many romantic incidents in\nwhich this weird figure has, at different times, made its appearance\nare treasured up among the household stories of our Irish peasantry.\nIt must not be forgotten that in a country abounding in natural\nbeauties such a superstition would harmonise with the surroundings of\nthe picturesque scenery, and so gain a firm hold on the mind of the\ninhabitants.\n\nUnlike, also, many of the legendary beliefs of this kind, the popular\naccounts illustrative of it are related on the evidence of all sections\nof the community, many an enlightened and well-informed advocate being\nenthusiastic in his vindication of its reality. It would seem, however,\nthat no family which is not of an ancient and noble stock is honoured\nwith this visit of the Banshee, and hence its non-appearance has been\nregarded as an indication of disqualification in this respect on the\npart of the person about to die. 'If I am rightly informed,' writes Sir\nWalter Scott, 'the distinction of a Banshee is only allowed to families\nof the pure Milesian stock, and is never ascribed to any descendant\nof the proudest Norman or boldest Saxon who followed the banner of\nStrongbow, much less to adventurers of later date who have obtained\nsettlements in the Green Isle.' Thus, an amusing story is contained in\nan Irish elegy to the effect that on the death of one of the Knights of\nKerry, when the Banshee was heard to lament his decease at Dingle--a\nseaport town, the property of those knights--all the merchants of\nthis place were thrown into a state of alarm lest the mournful and\nominous wailing should be a forewarning of the death of one of them,\nbut, as the poet humorously points out, there was no necessity for them\nto be anxious on this point. Although, through misfortune, a family\nmay be brought down from high estate to the rank of peasant tenants,\nthe Banshee never leaves nor forgets it till the last member has been\ngathered to his fathers in the churchyard. The MacCarthys, O'Flahertys,\nMagraths, O'Neils, O'Rileys, O'Sullivans, O'Reardons, have their\nBanshees, though many representatives of these names are in abject\npoverty.[239]\n\n'The Banshee,' says Mr. McAnally, 'is really a disembodied soul, that\nof one who in life was strongly attached to the family, or who had\ngood reason to hate all its members. Thus, in different instances, the\nBanshee's song may be inspired by different motives. When the Banshee\nloves those whom she calls, the song is a low, soft chant, giving\nnotice, indeed, of the close proximity of the angel of death, but with\na tenderness of tone that reassures the one destined to die, and\ncomforts the survivors; rather a welcome than a warning, and having in\nits tones a thrill of exultation, as though the messenger spirit were\nbringing glad tidings to him summoned to join the waiting throng of\nhis ancestors.' To a doomed member of the family of the O'Reardons the\nBanshee generally appears in the form of a beautiful woman, 'and sings\na song so sweetly solemn as to reconcile him to his approaching fate.'\nBut if, during his lifetime, the Banshee was an enemy of the family,\nthe cry is the scream of a fiend, howling with demoniac delight over\nthe coming death agony of another of his foes.\n\nHence, in Ireland, a source of dread to many a family against which\nshe has an enmity is the 'hateful Banshee.' 'It appears,' adds\nMcAnally,[240] 'that a noble family, whose name is still familiar in\nMayo, is attended by a Banshee of this description--the spirit of a\nyoung girl, deceived, and afterwards murdered by a former head of the\nfamily. With her dying breath she cursed her murderer, and promised\nshe would attend him and his for ever. After many years the chieftain\nreformed his ways, and his youthful crime was almost forgotten even\nby himself, when one night, as he and his family were seated by the\nfire, the most terrible shrieks were suddenly heard outside the castle\nwalls. All ran out, but saw nothing. During the night the screams\ncontinued as though the castle were besieged by demons, and the unhappy\nman recognised in the cry of the Banshee the voice of the young girl\nhe had murdered. The next night he was assassinated by one of his\nfollowers, when again the wild unearthly screams were heard exulting\nover his fate. Since that night the \"hateful Banshee\" has, it is said,\nnever failed to notify to the family, with shrill cries of revengeful\ngladness, when the time of one of their number has arrived.'\n\nAmong some of the recorded instances of the Banshee's appearance may\nbe mentioned one related by Miss Lefrau, the niece of Sheridan, in the\nMemoirs of her grandmother, Mrs. Frances Sheridan. From this account we\ngather that Miss Elizabeth Sheridan was a firm believer in the Banshee,\nand firmly maintained that the one attached to the Sheridan family was\ndistinctly heard lamenting beneath the windows of the family residence\nbefore the news arrived from France of Mrs. Frances Sheridan's death at\nBlois. She added that a niece of Miss Sheridan's made her very angry by\nobserving that as Mrs. Frances Sheridan was by birth a Chamberlaine,\na family of English extraction, she had no right to the guardianship\nof an Irish fairy, and that therefore the Banshee must have made a\nmistake. Then there is the well-known case related by Lady Fanshawe,\nwho tells us how, when on a visit in Ireland, she was awakened at\nmidnight by a supernatural scream outside her window. On looking out\nshe saw a young and rather handsome woman, with dishevelled hair, who\neventually vanished with two shrieks similar to that which had at first\nattracted her attention. On communicating the circumstance in the\nmorning, her host replied, 'A near relation of mine died last night in\nthe castle, and before such an event happens, the female spectre whom\nyou have seen is always visible.'\n\nThis weird apparition is generally supposed to assume the form of a\nwoman, sometimes young, but more often old. She is usually attired in\na loose white drapery, and her long ragged locks hang over her thin\nshoulders. As night time approaches she occasionally becomes visible,\nand pours forth her mournful wail--a sound said to resemble the\nmelancholy moaning of the wind:\n\n    Who sits upon the heath forlorn,\n    With robe so free and tresses worn?\n    Anon she pours a harrowing strain,\n    And then she sits all mute again!\n    Now peals the wild funereal cry,\n    And now--it sinks into a sigh.\n\nOftentimes she is not seen but only heard, yet she is supposed to\nbe always clearly discernible to the person upon whom she specially\nwaits. Respecting the history of the Banshee, popular tradition in many\ninstances accounts for its presence as the spirit of some mortal woman\nwhose destinies have become linked by some accident with those of the\nfamily she follows. It is related how the Banshee of the family of the\nO'Briens of Thomond is related to have been originally a woman who had\nbeen seduced by one of the chiefs of that race--an act of indiscretion\nwhich ultimately brought upon her misfortune and death.\n\n'Sometimes the song of the Banshee is heard,' writes Mr.\nMcAnally,[241] 'at the beginning of a course of conduct, a line of\naction, that has ended fatally.' A story is told in Kerry of a young\ngirl who engaged herself to a youth, but at the moment the promise of\nmarriage was given, the low sad wail was heard by both above their\nheads. The young man deserted her, she died of a broken heart, and,\non the night before her death, the Banshee's ominous song was heard\noutside her mother's cottage window. On another occasion, we are told\nby the same authority, one of the Flahertys of Galway marched out of\nhis castle with his men on a foray, and, as his troops filed through\nthe gateway, the Banshee was heard high above the towers of the\nfortress. The next night she sang again, and was heard no more for a\nmonth, when he heard the wail under his window, and on the following\nday his followers brought back his corpse. One of the O'Neils of Shane\nCastle, Antrim, heard the Banshee as he started on a journey, but while\non the same journey he was accidentally killed. According to Lady\nWilde, 'at Lord O'Neil's residence, Shane's Castle, there is a room\nappropriated to the use of the Banshee, and she often appears there,\nsometimes shrouded and in a dark, mist-like cloak. At other times she\nis seen as a beautiful young girl, with long red-gold hair, and wearing\na green kirtle and scarlet mantle, covered with gold, after the Irish\nfashion.' She adds that there is no harm or fear of evil in her mere\npresence, unless she is seen in the act of crying. But this is a fatal\nsign, and the mournful wail is a sure and certain prophecy that the\nangel of death is waiting for one of the family.[242]\n\nMr. Crofton Croker, in his 'Fairy Legends and Traditions of the South\nof Ireland,' has given several entertaining stories of the Banshee;\nbut adds, that since these spirits have become amenable to vulgar laws\nthey have lost much of their romantic character. The introduction of\nthe Banshee in the following stanza of a 'keening'--an Irish term for\na wild song of lamentation poured forth over a dead body by certain\nmourners employed for the purpose--indicates the popular feeling on\nthe subject. It was composed on a young man named Ryan, whose mother\nspeaks--\n\n    'Twas the Banshee's lonely wailing,\n      Well I knew the voice of death,\n    On the night wind slowly sailing\n      O'er the bleak and gloomy heath.\n\nIf a member of an Irish family dies abroad, the Banshee notifies his\nmisfortune at home. When the Duke of Wellington died, the Banshee\nwas heard wailing round the house of his ancestors, and during the\nNapoleonic campaigns she often announced at home the death of Irish\nofficers and soldiers--an occurrence which happened on the night\npreceding the Battle of the Boyne. 'Indeed,' says Mr. McAnally, 'the\nBanshee has given notice at the family seat in Ireland of deaths in\nbattle fought in every part of the world; from every point to which\nIrish regiments have followed the roll of the British drums, news of\nthe prospective shedding of Irish blood has been brought home.'\n\n'The Welsh have also their Banshee, which generally makes its\nappearance,' writes Mr. Wirt Sikes,[243] 'in the most curdling form,'\nand is regarded as an omen of death. It is supposed to come after dusk,\nand to flap its leathern wings against the window where the sick\nperson happens to be. Nor is this all, for in a broken, howling tone,\nit calls on the one who is to quit mortality by his or her name several\ntimes. There is an old legend of the 'Ellyllon,' a prototype of the\nScotch and Irish Banshee, which usually appears as an old crone with\nstreaming hair and a coat of blue, making its presence manifest by its\nominous scream of death. The Welsh have a further form of the Banshee\nin the 'Cyhyraeth,' which is never seen, although the noise it makes is\nsuch as to inspire terror in those who chance to hear it. Thus, in some\nof the Welsh villages it is heard passing through the empty streets\nand lanes by night groaning dismally, and rattling the window-shutters\nas it goes along. According to the local belief it is only heard\n'before the death of such as are of strayed mind, or who have been\nlong ill; but it always comes when an epidemic is about to visit the\nneighbourhood.' As an instance of how superstitions are remitted from\none country to another, it is told that in America there are tales of\nthe Banshee imported from Ireland along with the sons of that soil.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[239] McAnally: _Irish Wonders_, p. 112.\n\n[240] _Irish Wonders_, 1888, p. 114.\n\n[241] _Irish Wonders_, p. 112.\n\n[242] _Ancient Cures, Charms, and Usages of Ireland_, p. 84.\n\n[243] _British Goblins_, pp. 212-216.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI\n\nSEA PHANTOMS\n\n\nThe romance of the sea has always attracted interest, and, as\nBuckle once remarked, 'the credulity of sailors is notorious, and\nevery literature contains evidence of the multiplicity of their\nsuperstitions, and of the tenacity with which they cling to them.' This\nis not surprising, for many of the weird old fancies with which the\nlegendary lore of the sea abounds originated in certain atmospherical\nphenomena which were once a mystery to our seafaring community. In a\n'New Catalogue of Vulgar Errors' (1761) the writer says: 'I look upon\nsailors to care as little of what becomes of themselves as any people\nunder the sun; yet no people are so much terrified at the thoughts of\nan apparition. Their sea-songs are full of them; they firmly believe\nin their existence, and honest Jack Tar shall be more frightened\nat the glimmering of the moon upon the tackling of a ship, than he\nwould be if a Frenchman were to place a blunderbus at his head.' The\noccasional reflections of mountains, cities, and ships in mirage gave\nrise to many strange stories of spectral lands. Early instances of this\npopular fancy occur, and Mrs. Jameson, in her 'Sacred and Legendary\nArt,' quotes an old Venetian legend of 1339, relating to the ring with\nwhich the Adriatic was first wedded. During a storm a fisherman was\nrequired to row three men, whom he afterwards learns were St. Mark,\nSt. George, and St. Nicholas, first to certain churches, and then over\nto the entrance of the port. But there a huge Saracen galley was seen\nwith frightful demons on board, which spectral craft the three men\ncaused to sink, thus saving the city. On leaving the boat, the boatman\nis presented with a ring. In the Venetian academy is a painting by\nGiorgione of this phantom ship, with a demon crew, who, terrified at\nthe presence of the three holy men, jump overboard, or cling to the\nrigging, while the masts flame with fire, and cast a lurid glare on the\nwater. Collin de Plancy, in his 'Sacred Legends of the Middle Ages,'\ntells us how at Boulogne, in 663, while the people were at prayers,\na strange ship--without guide or pilot--was observed approaching the\nshore, with the Virgin on board, who indicated to the people a site\nfor her chapel--delusions which may be classed in the same category as\nthe 'phantom ship.' Novelists and poets have made graphic use of such\nwell-known apparitions, variations of which occur in every maritime\ncountry. But the author accounts for this philosophically, adding that\n'a great deal may be said in favour of men troubled with the scurvy,\nthe concomitants of which disorder are, generally, faintings and the\nhip, and horrors without any ground for them.'\n\nThere were few ships in days gone by that 'doubled the Cape' but owned\namong the crew some who had seen the 'Flying Dutchman,' a phantom to\nwhich Sir Walter Scott alludes as the harbinger of woe. This ship was\ndistinguished from earthly vessels by bearing a press of sail when all\nothers were unable to show an inch of canvas.\n\nThe story goes that 'Falkenburg was a noble-man who murdered his\nbrother and his bride in a fit of passion, and was condemned to wander\ntowards the north. On arriving at the sea-shore, he found awaiting\nhim a boat, with a man in it, who said, \"Expectamus te.\" He entered\nthe boat, attended by his good and his evil spirit, and went on board\na spectral bark in the harbour. There he still lingers, while these\nspirits play dice for his soul. For six hundred years the ship has\nwandered the seas, and mariners still see her in the German Ocean,\nsailing northwards, without helm or helmsman. She is painted grey,\nhas coloured sails, a pale flag, and no crew. Flames issue from the\nmasthead at night.'[244] There are numerous versions of this popular\nlegend, and O'Reilly, in his 'Songs of Southern Seas,' says--\n\n    Heaven help the ship near which the demon sailor steers!\n    The doom of those is sealed to whom the phantom ship appears,\n    They'll never reach their destin'd port, they'll see their homes\n        no more,\n    They who see the Flying Dutchman never, never reach the shore.\n\nCaptain Marryat made this legend the basis of his 'Phantom Ship,' and\nLongfellow, in his 'Tales of a Wayside Inn,' powerfully tells of--\n\n    A ship of the dead that sails the sea,\n    And is called the Carmilhan,\n    A ghostly ship, with a ghostly crew.\n    In tempests she appears,\n    And before the gale, or against the gale,\n    She sails, without a rag of sail,\n    Without a helmsman steers.\n\n    And ill-betide the luckless ship\n    That meets the Carmilhan!\n    Over her decks the seas will leap,\n    She must go down into the deep,\n    And perish, mouse and man.\n\nThere are, also, a host of stories of spectral ships, some of which\nare still credited by sailors. The Germans have their phantom ships,\nto meet which is regarded as an omen of disaster. In one instance, the\ncrew is said to consist of ghosts of condemned sinners, who serve one\nhundred years in each grade, until each has a short tour as captain.\nThis mysterious vessel is described by Oscar L.\u00a0B. Wolff in 'The\nPhantom Ship':\n\n    For the ship was black, her masts were black,\n      And her sails coal-black as death;\n    And the Evil-One steered at the helm, and laughed,\n      And mocked at their failing breath.\n\nSwedish sailors have a vessel of this kind. She is so large that\nit takes three weeks to go from poop to prow, and hence orders are\ntransmitted on horseback. Danish folk-lore has its spectral ship, and a\nSchleswick-Holstein tradition relates how a maiden was carried off by\nher lover in a spectral ship, as one day she sat on the shore bewailing\nhis absence. In 'M\u00e9lusine' for September 1884,[245] it is stated that,\n'in many localities in Lower Brittany, stories are current of a huge\nship manned by giant human forms and dogs. The men are reprobates\nguilty of horrible crimes; the dogs, demons set to guard them and\ninflict on them a thousand tortures. Such a vessel wanders ceaselessly\nfrom sea to sea, without entering port or casting anchor, and will do\nso to the end of the world. No vessel should allow it to fall aboard,\nfor its crew would suddenly disappear. The orders, in this strange\ncraft, are given through huge conch-shells, and, the noise being heard\nseveral miles off, it is easy to avoid her. Besides, there is nothing\nto fear, if the \"Ave Maria\" is repeated, and the Saints appealed to,\nespecially St. Anne d'Auray.'\n\nStories of phantom ships are found, more or less, all over the\nworld, and are associated with many a romantic and tragic tale. Bret\nHarte[246] relates how some children go on board a hulk to play, but it\nbreaks away from its moorings, drifts out to sea, and is lost. Yet at\ntimes there are heard:\n\n    The voices of children, still at play,\n    In a phantom hulk that drifts away\n    Through channels whose waters never fail.\n\nAnd Whittier[247] tells how the young captain of a schooner visits the\nLabrador coast where, in a certain secluded bay, two beautiful sisters\nlive with their mother. Both fall in love with him, and, just as the\nyounger is about to meet her lover and fly with him, she is imprisoned\nin her room by her mother, whereupon her elder sister goes in her\nstead, and is carried to sea in the vessel. The disappointed lover, on\nlearning the deception, returns only to find his loved one dead. But\nthe schooner, adds Whittier, never returned home and:\n\n    Even yet, at Seven Isle Bay,\n    Is told the ghastly tale\n    Of a weird unspoken sail.\n    She flits before no earthly blast,\n    With the red sign fluttering from her mast,\n    The ghost of the Schooner Breeze.\n\nIn Dana's 'Buccaneer,' the pirate carries a lady to sea, who jumps\noverboard, and on the anniversary of her death:\n\n    A ship! and all on fire! hull, yards, and mast,\n    Her sails are sheets of flame; she's nearing fast!\n\nOccasionally a spectre ship is seen at Cap d'Espoir, in the Gulf of St.\nLawrence, which is commonly reported to be the ghost of the flagship of\na fleet sent to reduce the French forts by Queen Anne, and which was\nwrecked here, and all hands. On this phantom ship, which is crowded\nwith soldiers, lights are seen, and on the bowsprit stands an officer,\npointing to the shore with one hand, while a woman is on the other\nside. The lights suddenly go out, a scream is heard, and the ill-fated\nvessel sinks. Under one form or another, the phantom ship has long been\na world-wide piece of folk-lore, and even in an Ojibway tale, when a\nmaiden is on the eve of being sacrificed to the spirit of the falls, a\nspectral canoe, with a fairy in it, takes her place as a sacrifice.\n\nDennys, in his 'Folk-lore of China,' gives a novel variety of the\nphantom ship. The story goes that a horned serpent was found in a\ntiger's cage near Foochow by a party of tiger-hunters. They tried to\nship it to Canton, but during the voyage the serpent escaped, through\na flash of lightning striking the cage and splitting it. Thereupon\nthe captain offered a thousand dollars to anyone who would destroy\nthe monster, but its noxious breath killed two sailors who attempted\nthe task. Eventually the junk was abandoned, and is still believed to\ncruise about the coast, and cautious natives will not board a derelict\njunk.\n\nOne of the chief features of many of these phantom-ship stories is the\nidea of retribution for evil deeds, as in the following, told by Irving\nin the 'Chronicles of Wolfert's Roost.' A certain Ramnout van Dam had\n'danced and drank until midnight--Saturday--when he entered his boat to\nreturn home. He was warned that he was on the verge of Sunday morning,\nbut he pulled off, swearing that he would not land until he reached\nSpiting Devil, if it took him a month of Sundays. He was never seen\nafterwards, but may be heard plying his oars, being the Flying Dutchman\nof the Tappan Sea, doomed to ply between Kakiot and Spiting Devil until\nthe day of judgment.' Moore in his account of the phantom ship seen in\nthe description of Deadman's Island, where wrecks were once common,\nwrites:\n\n    To Deadman's Isle, on the eve of the blast,\n    To Deadman's Isle, she speeds her fast,\n    By skeleton shapes, her sails are furled,\n    And the hand that steers is not of this world.\n\nTurning to our own country, similar phantom vessels have long been\nsupposed to haunt the coast, and Mr. Hunt[248] describes one that\nvisited the Cornish shores on the occasion of a storm, and to rescue\nwhich delusive bark help was despatched: 'Away they pulled, and\nthe boat which had been first launched still kept ahead by dint of\nmechanical power and skill. At length the helmsman cried, \"Stand by to\nboard her.\" The vessel came so close to the boat that they could see\nthe men, and the bow oarsman made a grasp at the bulwarks. His hand\nfound nothing solid and he fell. Ship and light then disappeared. The\nnext day the \"Neptune\" of London was wrecked, and all perished. The\ncaptain's body was picked up after a few days, and that of his son\nalso.' Among other Cornish stories may also be mentioned those known\nas the 'Pirate-wrecker and the Death Ship;' and the 'Spectre Ship of\nPorthcurno.' Occasionally off the Lizard a phantom lugger is seen, and\nBottrell[249] tells how, at times, not only spectral ships, but the\nnoise of falling spars, &c., are heard during an incoming fog.\n\nScotch sailors have their stories of phantom ships. Thus a spectral\nvessel--the ghostly bark of a bridal party maliciously wrecked--is said\nto appear in the Solway, always hovering near a ship that is doomed\nto be wrecked; and Cunningham[250] has given a graphic account of two\nphantom pirate ships. The story goes that, for a time, two Danish\npirates were permitted to perform wicked deeds on the deep, but were\nat last condemned to perish by wreck for the evil they had caused. On\na certain night they were seen approaching the shore--the one crowded\nwith people, and the other carrying on its deck a spectral shape. Then\nfour young men put off in a boat that had been sent from one ship, to\njoin her, but, on reaching the ship, both vessels sank where they were.\nOn the anniversary of their wreck, and before a gale, these two vessels\nare supposed to approach the shore, and to be distinctly visible. A\nHighland legend records how a large ship--the 'Rotterdam'--which went\ndown with all on board, is seen at times with her ghostly crew, a sure\nindication of disaster. But perhaps this superstition has been most\nfirmly riveted in the popular mind by Coleridge's 'Ancient Mariner,'\nwherein an ominous sign is seen afar off prefiguring the death of\nhimself and his comrades. It is a spectre ship in which Death and\nLife-in-Death play at dice for the possession of the crew--the latter\nwinning the mariner.\n\n    Her lips were red, her looks were free,\n    Her locks were yellow as gold;\n    Her skin was white as leprosy,\n    The night-mare Life-in-Death was she,\n    Who thicks man's blood with cold.\n\nStories of ghosts having appeared at sea have been told from early\ndays, and have everywhere been a fruitful source of terror to sailors.\nBut this is not surprising for, as Scot says,[251] 'innumerable are\nthe reports of accidents unto such as frequent the seas, as fishermen\nand sailors, who discourse of noises, flashes, shadows, echoes, and\nother things, nightly seen or heard upon the waters.' Brand,[252] for\ninstance, narrates an amusing tale of a sea ghost. The ship's cook,\nwho had one of his legs shorter than the other, died on a homeward\npassage and was buried at sea. A few nights afterwards his ghost was\nseen walking before the ship, and the crew were in a panic. It was\nfound however that the cause of this alarm was part of a maintop, the\nremains of some wreck floating before them that simulated the dead\nman's walk. On another occasion a ship's crew fancied they had not\nonly seen but 'smelled' a ghost--a piece of folly which so enraged\nthe captain that he ordered the boatswain's mate to give some of the\nsailors a dozen lashes, which entirely cleared the ship of the ghost\nduring the remainder of the voyage. It was afterwards ascertained that\nthe smell proceeded from a dead rat behind some beer-barrels. In the\nsame way, many a ghost story might be explained which, proceeding from\nnatural causes, has been the source of superstitious dread among the\nseafaring community. Cheever, in his 'Sea and Sailor,' referring to\nthe credulity of sailors, says: 'The sailor is a profound believer in\nghosts. One of these nocturnal visitants was supposed to visit our\nship. It was with the utmost difficulty that the crew could be made to\nturn in at night. You might have seen the most athletic, stout-hearted\nsailor on board, when called to take his night-watch aloft, glancing\nat the yards and tackling of the ship for the phantom. It was a long\ntime, in the opinion of the crew, before the phantom left the ship.' It\nmay be remembered that Sir Walter Scott[253] relates how the captain of\nan English ship was assured by the crew that the ghost of a murdered\nsailor, every night, visited the ship. So convinced were the sailors\nof the appearance of this phantom that they refused to sail, but the\nmystery was cleared up by the discovery of a somnambulist.\n\nOccasionally, the ghost of a former captain is supposed to visit a\nvessel and to warn the crew of an approaching storm. Symondson in\nhis 'Two Years abaft the Mast' records the appearance of such an\napparition, at one time 'to prescribe a change of course, at another,\nin wet and calm weather, quietly seated in his usual place on the poop\ndeck.'[254] Sometimes similar warnings have come from other sources.\nThus a curious occurrence is told by Mary Howitt, which happened in\n1664 to Captain Rogers, R.N., who was in command of the 'Society,' a\nvessel bound from England to Virginia. The story goes that 'he was\nheading in for the capes, and was, as he reckoned, after heaving the\nlead, three hundred miles from them. A vision appeared to him in the\nnight, telling him to turn out, and look about. He did so, found all\nalert, and retired again. The vision appeared again, and told him to\nheave the lead. He arose, caused the lead to be cast, and found but\nseven fathoms. Greatly frightened, he tacked ship, and the daylight\nshowed him to be under the capes, instead of two hundred miles at\nsea.'[255] With this story may be compared a mysterious story told in\nthe 'Chicago Times' of March, 1885.\n\nIt appears that, as two men had fallen from the topmast head of a\nlake-vessel, the rumour spread that the ship was an unlucky one.\nAccordingly, writes one of the crew, 'on its arrival at Buffalo, the\nmen went on shore as soon as they were paid off. They said the ship had\nlost her luck. While we were discharging at the elevator, the story got\nround, and some of the grain-trimmers refused to work on her. Even the\nmate was affected by it. At last we got ready to sail for Cleveland,\nwhere we were to load coal. The captain managed to get a crew by going\nto a crimp, who ran them in, fresh from salt water. They came on board\ntwo-thirds drunk, and the mate was steering them into the forecastle,\nwhen one of them stopped and said, pointing aloft, \"What have you got\na figurehead on the mast for?\" The mate looked up and then turned\npale. \"It's Bill,\" he said, and with that the whole lot jumped on to\nthe dock. I didn't see anything, but the mate told the captain to look\nfor another officer. The captain was so much affected that he put me\non another schooner, and then shipped a new crew, and sailed for\nCleveland. He never got there. He was sunk by a steamer off Dunkirk.'\n\nAnother curious phantom warning to sailors seen in years gone by\nwas the 'Hooper,' or the 'Hooter,' of Sennen Cove, Cornwall. This\nwas supposed to be a spirit which took the form of a band of misty\nvapour, stretching across the bay, so opaque that nothing could be\nseen through it. According to Mr. Hunt,[256] 'it was regarded as a\nkindly interposition of some ministering spirit, to warn the fisherman\nagainst venturing to sea. This appearance was always followed, and\noften suddenly, by a severe storm. It is seldom or never now seen. One\nprofane old fisherman would not be warned by the bank of fog, and,\nas the weather was fine on the shore, he persuaded some young men to\njoin him. They manned a boat, and the aged leader, having with him a\nthreshing-flail, declared that he would drive the spirit away, and he\nvigorously beat the fog with the \"threshel,\" as the flail is called.\nThe boat passed through the fog, and went to sea, but a severe storm\narose, and no one ever saw the boat or the men again, since which\ntime the \"Hooper\" has been rarely seen.' Similarly a mist over the\nriver Cymal, in Wales, is thought to be the spirit of a traitoress, who\nlost her life in the lake close by. Tradition says she had conspired\nwith pirates to rob her lord of his domain, and was defeated by an\nenchanter.[257]\n\nBut sailors' yarns are so proverbially remarkable that the reader must\nestimate their value for himself, not forgetting how large a factor in\ntheir production is the imagination, worked upon by nervous credulity\nand superstitious fear, a striking instance of which is recorded by\na correspondent of the 'Gentleman's Magazine:' 'My friend, Captain\nMott, R.N., used frequently to repeat an anecdote of a seaman under\nhis command. This individual, who was a good sailor and a brave man,\nsuffered much trouble and anxiety from his superstitious fears. When\non the night watch, he would see sights and hear noises in the rigging\nand the deep, which kept him in a perpetual fever of alarm. One day\nthe poor fellow reported upon deck that the devil, whom he knew by\nhis horns and cloven foot, stood by the side of his hammock the\npreceding night, and told him that he had only three days to live.\nHis messmates endeavoured to remove his despondency by ridicule, but\nwithout effect; and the next morning he told the tale to Captain Mott,\nwith this addition, that the fiend had paid him a second nocturnal\nvisit, announcing a repetition of the melancholy tidings. The captain\nin vain expostulated with him on the folly of indulging such groundless\napprehensions; and the morning of the fatal day being exceedingly\nstormy, the man, with many others, was ordered to the topmast to\nperform some duty among the rigging. Before he ascended he bade his\nmessmates farewell, telling them that he had received a third warning\nfrom the devil, and that he was confident he should be dead before\nnight. He went aloft with the foreboding of evil on his mind, and in\nless than five minutes he lost his hold, fell upon the deck, and was\nkilled on the spot.'\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[244] See Bassett's _Legends and Superstitions of the Sea_, pp. 346,\n347.\n\n[245] Quoted in Bassett's _Legends of the Sea_, p. 351.\n\n[246] Poems: _A Greypoint Legend, 1797_.\n\n[247] _The Wreck of the Schooner Breeze._\n\n[248] _Romances of West of England_, pp. 362-364.\n\n[249] _Traditions and Fireside Stories of West Cornwall._\n\n[250] _Traditional Tales of the English and Scottish Peasantry_, p. 338.\n\n[251] _Discoverie of Witchcraft._\n\n[252] _Pop. Antiq._ iii. p. 85.\n\n[253] _Letters on Demonology and Witchcraft._\n\n[254] Quoted by Bassett in his _Legends and Superstitions of the Sea_,\np. 288.\n\n[255] _Ibid._ p. 286.\n\n[256] _Romances of West of England_, p. 367.\n\n[257] Wirt Sikes: _British Goblins_.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII\n\nPHANTOM DRESS\n\n\nAccording to a popular ghost doctrine, the spirits of the departed\n'generally come in their habits as they lived,' and as George\nCruikshank once remarked,[258] 'there is no difference in this respect\nbetween the beggar and the king.' For they come--\n\n    Some in rags, and some in jags, and some in silken gowns.\n\nAnd he adds that all narrators agree that 'the spirits appear in\nsimilar or the same dresses which they were accustomed to wear during\ntheir lifetime, so exactly alike that the ghost-seer could not possibly\nbe mistaken as to the identity of the individual.' Horatio, describing\nthe ghost to Hamlet, says--\n\n              A figure like your father,\n    Armed at all points, exactly cap-\u00e0-p\u00e9.\n\nAnd it is further stated that the ghost was armed 'from top to toe,'\n'from head to foot,' that 'he wore his beaver up;' and when Hamlet sees\nhis father's spirit he exclaims--\n\n                            What may this mean,\n    That thou, dead corse, again, in complete steel,\n    Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon?\n\nIt is the familiar dress worn in lifetime that is, in most cases,\none of the distinguishing features of the ghost, and when Sir George\nVilliers wanted to give a warning to his son, the Duke of Buckingham,\nhis spirit appeared to one of the duke's servants 'in the very clothes\nhe used to wear.' Mrs. Crowe,[259] some years ago, gave an account of\nan apparition which appeared at a house in Sarratt, Hertfordshire. It\nwas that of a well-dressed gentleman, in a blue coat and bright gilt\nbuttons, but without a head. It seems that this was reported to be the\nghost of a poor man of that neighbourhood who had been murdered, and\nwhose head had been cut off. He could, therefore, only be recognised\nby his 'blue coat and bright gilt buttons.' Indeed, many ghosts have\nbeen nicknamed from the kinds of dress in which they have been in the\nhabit of appearing. Thus the ghost at Allanbank was known as 'Pearlin\nJean,' from a species of lace made of thread which she wore; and the\n'White Lady' at Ashley Hall--like other ghosts who have borne the\nsame name--from the white drapery in which she presented herself.\nSome lady ghosts have been styled 'Silky,' from the rustling of their\nsilken costume, in the wearing of which they have maintained the\nphantom grandeur of their earthly life. There was the 'Silky' at Black\nHeddon who used to appear in silken attire, oftentimes 'rattling in\nher silks'; and the spirit of Denton Hall--also termed 'Silky'--walks\nabout in a white silk dress of antique fashion. This last 'Silky' 'was\nthought to be the ghost of a lady who was mistress to the profligate\nDuke of Argyll in the reign of William III., and died suddenly, not\nwithout suspicion of murder, at Chirton, near Shields--one of his\nresidences. The \"Banshee of Loch Nigdal,\" too, was arrayed in a silk\ndress, green in colour. These traditions date from a period when silk\nwas not in common use, and therefore attracted notice in country\nplaces.'[260] Some years ago a ghost appeared at Hampton Court,[261]\nhabited in a black satin dress with white kid gloves. The 'White\nLady of Skipsea' makes her midnight serenades clothed in long white\ndrapery. Lady Bothwell, who haunted the mansion of Woodhouselee, always\nappeared in white; and the apparition of the mansion of Houndwood, in\nBerwickshire--bearing the name of 'Chappie'--is clad in silk attire.\n\nOne of the ghosts seen at the celebrated Willington Mill was that of a\nfemale in greyish garments. Sometimes she was said to be wrapped in a\nsort of mantle, with her head depressed and her hands crossed on her\nlap. Walton Abbey had its headless lady who used to haunt a certain\nwainscotted chamber, dressed in blood-stained garments, with her infant\nin her arms; and, in short, most of the ghosts that have tenanted our\ncountry-houses have been noted for their distinctive dress.\n\nDaniel de Foe, in his 'Essay on the History and Reality of\nApparitions,' has given many minute details as to the dress of a ghost.\nHe tells a laughable and highly amusing story of some robbers who broke\ninto a mansion in the country, and, whilst ransacking one of the rooms,\nthey saw, in a chair, 'a grave, ancient man, with a long full-bottomed\nwig, and a rich brocaded gown,' &c. One of the robbers threatened to\ntear off his 'rich brocaded gown'; another hit at him with a firelock,\nand was alarmed at seeing it pass through the air; and then the old\nman 'changed into the most horrible monster that ever was seen, with\neyes like two fiery daggers red hot.' The same apparition encountered\nthem in different rooms, and at last the servants, who were at the\ntop of the house, throwing some 'hand grenades' down the chimneys of\nthese rooms, the thieves were dispersed. Without adding further stories\nof this kind, which may be taken for what they are worth, it is a\ngenerally received belief in ghost lore that spirits are accustomed\nto appear in the dresses which they wore in their lifetime--a notion\ncredited from the days of Pliny the Younger to the present day.\n\nBut the fact of ghosts appearing in earthly raiment has excited the\nridicule of many philosophers, who, even admitting the possibility of\na spiritual manifestation, deny that there can be the ghost of a suit\nof clothes. George Cruikshank, too, who was no believer in ghosts, sums\nup the matter thus: 'As it is clearly impossible for spirits to wear\ndresses made of the materials of the earth, we should like to know if\nthere are spiritual outfitting shops for the clothing of ghosts who pay\nvisits on earth.' Whatever the objections may be to the appearance of\nghosts in human attire, they have not hitherto overthrown the belief in\ntheir being seen thus clothed, and Byron, describing the 'Black Friar'\nwho haunted the cloisters and other parts of Newstead Abbey, tells us\nthat he was always\n\n                                  arrayed\n    In cowl, and beads, and dusky garb.\n\nIndeed, as Dr. Tylor remarks,[262] 'it is an habitual feature of the\nghost stories of the civilised, as of the savage, world, that the ghost\ncomes dressed, and even dressed in well-known clothing worn in life.'\nAnd he adds that the doctrine of object-souls is held by the Algonquin\ntribes, the islanders of the Fijian group, and the Karens of Burmah--it\nbeing supposed that not only men and beasts have souls, but inorganic\nthings. Thus, Mariner describing the Fijian belief, writes: 'If a stone\nor any other substance is broken, immortality is equally its reward;\nnay, artificial bodies have equal good luck with men, and hogs, and\nyams. If an axe or a chisel is worn out or broken up, away flies its\nsoul for the service of the gods. The Fijians can further show you\na sort of natural well, or deep hole in the ground, at one of their\nislands, across the bottom of which runs a stream of water, in which\nyou may clearly see the souls of men and women, beasts and plants,\nstocks and stones, canoes and horses, and of all the broken utensils\nof this frail world, swimming, or rather tumbling along, one over the\nother, pell-mell, into the regions of immortality.'[263] As it has been\nobserved, animistic conceptions of this kind are no more irrational\nthan the popular idea prevalent in civilised communities as to spirits\nappearing in all kinds of garments.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[258] _A Discovery Concerning Ghosts_, p. 3.\n\n[259] _Night Side of Nature._\n\n[260] Henderson's _Folk-lore of Northern Counties_, p. 270.\n\n[261] See _All the Year Round_, June 22, 1867.\n\n[262] _Primitive Culture_, i. p. 480.\n\n[263] See Letourneau's _Sociology_, p. 250; Sir John Lubbock's _Origin\nof Civilisation, and Primitive Condition of Man_, 1870, p. 246.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII\n\nHAUNTED HOUSES\n\n    A jolly place, said he, in days of old,\n    But something ails it now: the spot is curst.\n                                            WORDSWORTH.\n\n\nA variety of strange causes, such as secret murder, acts of treachery,\nunatoned crime, buried treasures, and such-like incidents belonging\nto the seamy side of family history, have originated, at one time or\nanother, the ghostly stories connected with so many a house throughout\nthe country. Robert Browning has graphically described the mysteries of\na haunted house:\n\n    At night, when doors are shut,\n      And the wood-worm picks,\n      And the death-watch ticks,\n    And the bar has a flag of smut,\n    And a cat's in the water-butt--\n\n    And the socket floats and flares,\n      And the house-beams groan,\n      And a foot unknown\n    Is surmised on the garret stairs,\n      And the locks slip unawares.\n\nAlthough in some cases centuries have elapsed since a certain house\nbecame haunted, and several generations have come and passed away,\nstill, with ceaseless persistency, the restless spirit hovers about\nin all kinds of uncanny ways, reminding us of Hood's romance of 'The\nHaunted House.'\n\n    For over all there hung a cloud of fear,\n    A sense of mystery the spirit daunted,\n    And said, as plain as whisper in the ear,\n    The place is haunted!\n\nCorby Castle, Cumberland, was famous for its 'Radiant Boy;' Peel Castle\nhad its 'Mauthe Doog;' and Dobb Park Lodge was noted for 'the Talking\nDog.' Cortachy Castle, the seat of the Earl of Airlie, is noted for its\n'Drummer;' and a noted Westmoreland ghost was that of the 'bad Lord\nLonsdale,' locally known as Jemmy Lowther, which created much alarm\nat Lowther Hall; but of recent years this miscreant spirit has been\nsilent, having, it is said, been laid for ever under a large rock\ncalled Wallow Crag. Strange experiences were associated with Hinton\nAmpner Manor House, Hampshire,[264] and when, in 1797, it was pulled\ndown, 'under the floor of the lobby was found a box containing bones,\nand what was said to be the skull of a monkey. No regular inquiry was\nmade into the matter, and no professional opinion was ever sought as\nto the real character of the relic.' Wyecoller Hall, near Colne, is\nvisited once a year by a spectre horseman; and some years ago Hackwood\nHouse, an old mansion near Basingstoke, purchased from Lord Bolton by\nLord Westbury, was said to have its haunted room, the phantom assuming\nthe appearance of a woman clothed in grey. Ramhurst Manor House, Kent,\nwas disturbed by weird and mysterious noises, and at Barton Hall,\nBath, in 1868, a phantom is said to have appeared, displaying a human\ncountenance, but devoid of eyes.\n\nAllanbank, a seat of the Stuarts--a family of Scotch baronets, has\nlong been haunted by 'Pearlin Jean,' one of the most remarkable\nghosts in Scotland. On one occasion, seven ministers were called in\nto lay this restless spirit, but to no purpose. Creslow Manor House,\nBuckinghamshire, has its ghost, and Glamis Castle has its famous\n'Haunted Room,' which, it is said, was walled up. At Hilton Castle\nthere was the time-honoured 'Cold Lad,' which Surtees would lead us\nto suppose was one of the household spirits known as 'Brownies.' But,\naccording to one local legend, in years gone by a servant-boy was\nill-treated and kept shut up in a cupboard, and is supposed to have\nreceived the name of 'Cold Lad' from his condition when discovered.\nSundry apparitions seem to have been connected with Newstead Abbey,\none being that of 'Sir John Byron the Little, with the Great Beard,'\nwho was wont to promenade the state apartments at night. But the most\ndreaded spectre was the 'Goblin Friar,' previously alluded to, who--\n\n                                      appeared,\n    Now in the moonlight, and now lapsed in shade,\n    With steps that trod as heavy, yet unheard.\n\nThis strange, weird spectre has been thought to forebode evil to the\nmember of the family to whom it appears, and its uncanny movements have\nbeen thus pictured by the poet:\n\n    By the marriage-bed of their lords, 'tis said,\n      He flits on the bridal eve;\n    And 'tis held as faith, to their bed of death\n      He comes--but not to grieve.\n\n    When an heir is born, he is heard to mourn,\n      And when aught is to befall\n    That ancient line, in the pale moonshine\n      He walks from hall to hall.\n\n    His form you may trace, but not his face,\n      'Tis shadowed by his cowl;\n    But his eyes may be seen from the folds between,\n      And they seem of a parted soul.\n\nHolland House has had the reputation of being haunted by the spirit of\nthe first Lord Holland; and, in 1860, there was published in 'Notes\nand Queries,' by the late Edmund Lenthal Swifte, Keeper of the Crown\nJewels, the account of a spectral illusion witnessed by himself in the\nTower. He says that in October, 1817, he was at supper with his wife,\nher sister, and his little boy, in the sitting-room of the jewel-house.\nTo quote his own words: 'I had offered a glass of wine and water to\nmy wife, when, on putting it to her lips, she exclaimed, \"Good God!\nwhat is that?\" I looked up, and saw a cylindrical figure like a glass\ntube, seemingly about the thickness of my arm, and hovering between\nthe ceiling and the table; its contents appeared to be a dense fluid,\nwhite and pale azure. This lasted about two minutes, when it began to\nmove before my sister-in-law; then, following the oblong side of the\ntable, before my son and myself, passing behind my wife, it paused for\na moment over her right shoulder. Instantly crouching down, and with\nboth hands covering her shoulder, she shrieked out, \"O Christ! it has\nseized me!\" It was ascertained,' adds Mr. Swifte, 'that no optical\naction from the outside could have produced any manifestation within,\nand hence the mystery has remained unsolved.' Speaking of the Tower,\nwe learn from the same source how 'one of the night sentries at the\njewel-office was alarmed by a figure like a huge bear issuing from\nunderneath the jewel-room door. He thrust at it with his bayonet which\nstuck in the door. He dropped in a fit and was carried senseless to\nthe guardroom.... In another day or two the brave and steady soldier\ndied at the presence of a shadow.' Windsor Castle, as report goes,\nwas haunted by the ghost of Sir George Villiers, who appeared to an\nofficer in the king's wardrobe and warned him of the approaching fate\nof the Duke of Buckingham.[265]\n\nAccording to Johnson, the 'Old Hummums' was the scene of the 'best\naccredited ghost story' that he had ever heard, the spirit of a Mr.\nFord, said to have been the riotous parson of Hogarth's 'Midnight\nConversation,' having appeared to a waiter; and Boswell, alluding to a\nconversation which took place at Mr. Thrale's house, Streatham, between\nhimself and Dr. Johnson, thus writes: 'A waiter at the Hummums, in\nwhich house Ford died, had been absent for some time, and returned,\nnot knowing that Ford was dead. Going down to the cellar, according\nto the story, he met him; going down again, he met him a second time.\nWhen he came up he asked some of the people of the house what Ford\ncould be doing there. They told him Ford was dead. The waiter took a\nfever, and when he recovered he said he had a message from Ford to\ndeliver to some women, but he was not to tell what, or to whom. He\nwalked out, he was followed, but somewhere about St. Paul's they lost\nhim. He came back, and said he had delivered the message, and the\nwomen exclaimed, \"Then we are all undone.\"' There is the so-called\n'Mystery of Berkeley Square,' No. 50 having been reputed to be haunted.\nBut a long correspondence on the subject in the pages of 'Notes and\nQueries' proved this to be a fallacy, the rumour, it would seem, having\narisen from 'its neglected condition when empty, and the habits of\nthe melancholy and solitary hypochondriac when occupied by him.' Lord\nLyttelton, however, wrote in 'Notes and Queries' of November 16, 1872,\nthus: 'It is quite true that there is a house in Berkeley Square (No.\n50) said to be haunted, and long unoccupied on that account. There\nare strange stories about it, into which this deponent cannot enter.'\nWhat these strange stories were may be gathered from 'Mayfair' of May\n10, 1879--an interesting illustration of how rapidly legendary stories\nspring up on little or no basis. 'The house in Berkeley Square contains\nat least one room of which the atmosphere is supernaturally fatal to\nbody and mind. A girl saw, heard, and felt such horror in it that she\nwent mad, and never recovered sanity enough to tell how or why. A\ngentleman, a disbeliever in ghosts, dared to sleep in it, and was found\na corpse in the middle of the floor, after practically ringing for\nhelp in vain. Rumour suggests other cases of the same kind, all ending\nin death, madness, or both, as the result of sleeping, or trying to\nsleep, in that room. The very party walls of the house, when touched,\nare found saturated with electric horror. It is uninhabited, save by\nan elderly man and woman who act as caretakers; but even these have no\naccess to the room. That is kept locked, the key being in the hands of\na mysterious and seemingly nameless person, who comes to the house once\nevery six months, locks up the elderly couple in the basement, and then\nunlocks the room and occupies himself in it for hours.'\n\nBerry Pomeroy Castle, Devonshire, was long said to be haunted by\nthe daughter of a former baron, who bore a child to her own father,\nafterwards strangling the fruit of their incestuous intercourse; and\nall kinds of weird noises are heard at Ewshott House, Hampshire. Bagley\nHouse, near Bridport, is haunted by the ghost of a Squire Lighte,\nwho committed suicide; and at Astwood Court, once the seat of the\nCulpepers, was an old oak table, removed from the side of the wainscot\nin 1816, respecting which tradition declares that it bore the impress\nof the fingers of a lady ghost who, it has been suggested, probably\ntired of appearing to no purpose, at last struck the table in a rage\nand vanished for ever. Holt Castle was supposed, in bygone years, to be\nhaunted by a mysterious lady in black who, in the still hours of the\nnight, occasionally walked in a certain passage near the attics. It was\nlikewise said that the cellar had been occupied by an ill-favoured bird\nlike a raven, which would sometimes pounce upon any person who ventured\nto approach a cask for drink, and, having extinguished the candle with\na horrid flapping of wings, would leave its victims prostrate with\nfright. A solution, however, has been given to this legend that 'would\nimply a little cunning selfishness on the part of the domestics who had\nthe care of the ale and cider _dep\u00f4t_.'[266]\n\nAt Althorp, the seat of Earl Spencer, is said to have appeared the\nghost of a favourite groom, and Cumnor Hall, the supposed scene of the\nmurder of Lady Amy Bobsart, was haunted by her apparition. According to\nMickle--\n\n    In that Manor now no more\n      Is cheerful feast and sprightly ball;\n    For, ever since that dreary hour,\n      Have spirits haunted Cumnor Hall.\n\n    The village maids, with fearful glance,\n      Avoid the ancient moss-grown wall;\n    Nor ever lead the merry dance\n      Among the groves of Cumnor Hall.\n\n    Full many a traveller oft hath sighed\n      And pensive wept the Countess's fall,\n    As, wandering onward, they espied\n      The haunted towers of Cumnor Hall.\n\nPowis Castle had once its ghost, and Cullaby Castle, Northumberland,\nthe seat of Major A.\u00a0H. Browne, is haunted. According to a\ncorrespondent,[267] in the older part of the castle, which was the\npele-tower of the Claverings, there was known to be a room walled up,\n'which Mrs. Browne, during her husband's absence, had broken into;' but\nthe room was found to be quite empty. She says, however, that 'she let\na ghost out who is known as \"The Wicked Priest.\" Ever since they have\nbeen annoyed with the most unaccountable noises, which are sometimes\nso loud that one would think the house was being blown down. I believe\nthe ghost has been seen--it is a priest with a shovel hat.' The seat\nof the Trevelyans is haunted with the incessant wailing of a spectral\nchild, and the ruins of Seaton Delaval Castle are said to be haunted.\nChurton Hall, at one time the seat of the Duke of Argyll, 'has marked\nTyneside with the ghost of the Duke's mistress, who is locally known as\n\"Silky.\"' 'Tyneside,' writes Mr. W.\u00a0T. Stead, 'abounded with stories\nof haunted castles; but, with the doubtful exception of Dilston, where\nLady Derwentwater was said to revisit the pale glimpses of the moon\nto expiate the restless ambition which impelled her to drive Lord\nDerwentwater to the scaffold, none of them were leading actors in the\ntragedies of old time.'\n\nBisham Abbey, report says, is haunted by the ghost of Lady Hoby, who\ntreated her son by her first husband so unmercifully, on account of his\nantipathy to study, that he died. As a punishment for her unnatural\ncruelty she glides through a certain chamber, in the act of washing\nblood-stains from her hands. One of the rooms at Combermere Abbey,\nCheshire, formerly known as the 'Coved Saloon,' is tenanted by the\nghost of a little girl, the sister of Lord Cotton, who had died when\nfourteen years old.[268] Then there was the famous 'Sampford Peverell'\nghost, which created much interest at the commencement of the present\ncentury,[269] and Rainham, the seat of the Marquis Townshend, in\nNorfolk, has long been haunted by the 'Brown Lady.' At Oulton House,\nSuffolk, at midnight, a wild huntsman with his hounds, accompanied by\na lady carrying a poisoned cup, is said to take his ghostly walk; and\nClegg Hall, Lancashire, long had its restless spirits, and the laying\nof these 'Clegg Hall boggarts,' as they were called, is described\nelsewhere. At Samlesbury Hall, near Blackburn, a lady in white attended\nby a handsome knight is seen at night;[270] and a headless lady walked\nabout Walton Abbey. Hermitage Castle, one of the most famous of the\nBorder keeps in the days of its splendour, has for years past been\nhaunted, and has been described as--\n\n                              Haunted Hermitage,\n    Where long by spells mysterious bound,\n        They pace their round with lifeless smile,\n        And shake with restless foot the guilty pile.\n    Till sink the mouldering towers beneath the burdened ground.\n\nThe story goes that Lord Soulis, 'the evil hero of Hermitage,' made a\ncompact with the devil, who appeared to him in the shape of a spirit\nwearing a red cap, which gained its hue from the blood of human victims\nin which it was steeped. Lord Soulis sold himself to the demon, and in\nreturn he could summon his familiar whenever he chose to rap thrice\non an iron chest, on condition that he never looked in the direction\nof the spirit. Once, however, he forgot or ignored this condition,\nand his doom was sealed. But even then Lord Soulis kept the letter of\nthe compact. Lord Soulis was protected by an unholy charm against any\ninjury from rope or steel; hence cords could not bind him, and steel\ncould not slay him. When, at last, he was delivered over to his enemies\nit was found necessary to adopt the ingenious and effective expedient\nof rolling him up in a sheet of lead and boiling him to death:\n\n    On a circle of stones they placed the pot,\n      On a circle of stones but barely nine;\n    They heated it red and fiery hot,\n      And the burnished brass did glimmer and shine.\n\n    They rolled him up in a sheet of lead--\n      A sheet of lead for a funeral pall;\n    They plunged him into the cauldron red,\n      And melted him, body, lead, bones and all.\n\nThis was the end of Lord Soulis's body, but his spirit still lingers on\nthe scene. Once every seven years he keeps tryst with Red Cap on the\nscene of his former devilries:\n\n    And still when seven years are o'er\n      Is heard the jarring sound,\n    When hollow opes the charm\u00e8d door\n      Of chamber underground.[271]\n\nHugh Miller, in his 'Schools and Schoolmasters,' says that, while\nworking as a stonemason in a remote part of Scotland, he visited\nthe ruins of Craighouse, a grey fantastic rag of a castle, which the\npeople of the neighbourhood firmly believed to be haunted by its\ngoblin--a miserable-looking, grey-headed, grey-bearded old man, who\nmight be seen, late in evening and early in the morning, peering\nout through a narrow slit or shot-hole at the chance passenger. He\nfurther adds that he met with a sunburnt herd-boy who was tending his\ncattle under the shadow of the old castle wall. He asked the lad whose\napparition he thought it was that could continue to haunt a building\nwhose last inhabitant had long been forgotten. 'Oh, they're saying,'\nwas the reply, 'it's the spirit of the man who was killed on the\nfoundation-stone, soon after it was laid, and then built intil the wa'\nby the masons that he might keep the Castle by coming back again; and\nthey're saying that a' varra auld hooses i' the country had murderit\nmen builded intil them i' that way, and that all o' them hev their\nbogie!'\n\nAmong Irish haunted houses may be noticed the castle of Dunseverick,\nin Antrim, which is believed to be still inhabited by the spirit of\na chief, who there atones for a horrid crime; while the castles of\nDunluce, of Magrath, and many others are similarly peopled by the\nwicked dead. In the abbey of Clare the ghost of a sinful abbot walks,\nand will continue to do so until his sin has been atoned for by the\nprayers he unceasingly mutters in his tireless march up and down the\naisles of the ruined nave.\n\nThe 'Cedar Room' at Ashley Hall, Cheshire, was said to be tenanted\nby the figure of a white lady, reminding us of similar so-called\napparitions at Skipsea and Blenkinsopp Castles. At Burton Agnes Hall,\nthe family seat of Sir Henry Somerville Boynton, there is a spirit of\na lady which haunts the ancient mansion, known in the neighbourhood\nas 'Awd Nance.' The skull of this lady is preserved at the Hall, and\nso long as it is left quietly in its resting-place all goes well, but\nshould any attempt be made to remove it, all kinds of unearthly noises\nare raised in the house, and last until it is restored.[272] Denton\nHall has for many years past attracted interest from being inhabited\nby a spirit known by the names of 'Old Barbery' and 'Silky,' and\nWaddow Hall, Yorkshire, is haunted by a phantom called 'Peg O'Nell.'\nBridge End House, Burnley, was said to have its ghost; Crook Hall, near\nDurham, has its 'White Ladie;' South Biddick Hall, its shadowy tenant,\n'Madam Lambton;' and Netherby Hall, a 'Rustling Lady' who walks along\na retired passage in that mansion, her dress rustling as she moves\nalong.[273] There was the famous Willington Mill, alluded to in the\nprevious chapter, which some years ago became notorious in the North of\nEngland, having been haunted, it is said, by a priest and a grey lady\nwho amused themselves at their victims' expense by all kinds of strange\nacts.[274] A correspondent of 'Notes and Queries' (4th S. x. 490)\nreferring to the Willington ghost says: 'The steam flour mill, with the\nhouse, was in the occupation then of Messrs. Proctor and Unthank; the\nhouse was separated from the mill by a space of a few feet, so that no\ntricks could be played from the mill. The partners alternately lived in\nthe house. A relation of mine asked one of those gentlemen if there\nwas any truth as to the current rumours. He remarked, \"Well, we don't\nlike to speak of it; my partner certainly cannot live comfortably in\nthe house, from some unexplained cause, but as to myself and family we\nare never disturbed.\"'\n\nSeveral parsonages have had their ghosts. Southey, in his 'Life of\nWesley,' speaking of Epworth parsonage, which appears to have been\nhaunted in the most strange manner, and alluding to the mysterious\ndisturbances that happened in it, says: 'An author who, in this age,\nrelates such a story, and treats it as not utterly incredible and\nabsurd, must expect to be ridiculed, but the testimony upon which it\nrests is far too strong to be set aside because of the strangeness of\nthe relation.' In the 'Gentleman's Magazine' is recorded an account of\nan apparition that appeared at Souldern Rectory, Oxfordshire, to the\nRev. Mr. Shaw, who had always ridiculed the idea of ghosts, announcing\nto him that his death would be very soon, and very sudden. Suffice it\nto say that shortly afterwards he was seized with an apoplectic fit\nwhile reading the service in church, and died almost immediately. This\nstrange affair is noticed in the register of Brisly Church, Norfolk,\nunder December 12, 1706: 'I, Robert Withers, M.A., Vicar of Gately, do\ninsert here a story which I had from undoubted hands, for I have all\nthe moral certainty of the truth of it possible.'\n\nThe old parsonage at Market, or East, Lavington, near Devizes--now\npulled down--was reputed to be haunted by a lady supposed to have been\nmurdered, and, it has been said, a child came also to an untimely end\nin the house. Previous to 1818, a correspondent of 'Notes and Queries'\n(5 S. i. 273) says: 'A witness states his father occupied the house,\nand writes \"that in that year on Feast Day, being left alone in the\nhouse, I went up to my room. It was the one with marks of blood on the\nfloor. I distinctly saw a white figure glide into the room. It went\nround by the washstand by the bed, and there disappeared.\"' It may be\nadded that part of the road leading from Market Lavington to Easterton,\nwhich skirts the grounds of Fiddington House, used to be looked upon as\nhaunted by a lady, who was known as the 'Easterton Ghost.' In 1869, a\nwall was built round the road-side of the pond; and, close to the spot\nwhere the lady was seen, two skeletons were disturbed--one of a woman,\nthe other of a child. The bones were buried in the churchyard, and no\nghost, it is said, has been seen since.\n\nOccasionally, churches have been haunted. The famous phantom nun of\nHoly Trinity Church, Micklegate, York, has excited a good deal of\ninterest--an account of which is given by Mr. Baring-Gould in his\n'Yorkshire Oddities.' The story goes that during the suppression of\nreligious houses before the Reformation, a party of soldiers came\nto sack the convent attached to the church. But having forced an\nentry they were confronted by the abbess, a lady of great courage\nand devotion, who declared that they should only pass it over her\nbody, and that should they slay her and succeed in their errand of\ndestruction, her spirit would haunt the place until the time came\nthat their sacrilegious work was expiated by the rebuilding of the\nholy house. Many accounts have been published of this apparition,\nthe following being from the 'Ripon and Richmond Chronicle' (May 6,\n1876): 'In the middle of the service,' writes a correspondent, 'my\neyes, which had hardly once moved from the left or north side of the\n[east] window, were attracted by a bright light, formed like a female,\nrobed and hooded, passing from north to south with a rapid gliding\nmotion outside the church, apparently at some distance. There are four\ndivisions in the window, all of stained glass, but at the edge of each\nruns a rim of plain transparent glass, about two inches wide, and\nadjoining the stone-work. Through this rim especially could be seen\nwhat looked like a form transparent, but yet thick (if such a term\ncan be used) with light. The robe was long and trailed. About half an\nhour later it again passed from north to south, and, having remained\nabout ten seconds only, returned with what I believe to have been the\nfigure of a young child, and stopped at the last pane but one, and then\nvanished. I did not see the child again, but a few seconds afterwards\nthe woman reappeared, and completed the passage behind the last pane\nvery rapidly.' It is said to appear very frequently on Trinity Sunday,\nand to bring two other figures on to the scene, another female, called\nthe nurse, and the child. Likewise, on one of the windows of the Abbey\nChurch, Whitby, was occasionally seen--\n\n    The very form of Hilda fair,\n    Hovering upon the sunny air.\n\nAccording to a correspondent of the 'Gentleman's Magazine,' a ghost\nappeared for several years, but very seldom, only in the church porch\nat Kilncote, Leicestershire. Folk-lore tells us that ghosts are\noccasionally seen in the church porch, and, in years gone, it was\ncustomary for young people to sit and watch here on St. Mark's Eve,\nfrom 11 at night till 1 o'clock in the morning. In the third year, for\nthe ceremony had to be gone through three times, it was supposed the\nghosts of all those about to die in the course of the ensuing year\nwould pass into the church. It is to this piece of superstition that\nJames Montgomery refers in his 'Vigil of St. Mark':\n\n    ''Tis now,' replied the village belle,\n      'St. Mark's mysterious Eve;\n    And all that old traditions tell\n      I tremblingly believe.\n\n    'How, when the midnight signal tolls,\n      Along the churchyard green\n    A mournful train of sentenced souls\n      In winding sheets are seen.\n\n    'The ghosts of all whom death shall doom\n      Within the coming year,\n    In pale procession walk the gloom,\n      Amid the silence drear.'\n\nA strange illustration of this superstition is found among the Hollis\nmanuscripts in the Lansdowne collection. The writer, Gervase Hollis,\nof Great Grimsby, Lincolnshire, was a colonel in the service of\nCharles\u00a0I., and he professes to have received the tale from Mr. Liveman\nRampaine, minister of God's word at Great Grimsby, Lincolnshire, who\nwas household chaplain to Sir Thomas Munson of Burton, in Lincoln, at\nthe time of the incident.[275]\n\nA curious and somewhat unique advertisement of a haunted house appeared\nsome years ago, and ran thus: 'To be sold, an ancient Gothic mansion,\nknown as Beckington Castle, ten miles from Bath, and two from Frome.\nThe mansion has been closed for some years, having been the subject\nof proceedings in Chancery. There are legends of haunted rooms, miles\nof subterranean passages, &c., affording a fine field of research and\nspeculation to lovers of the romantic.' It was no doubt true of the\nghost of this, as of most other haunted houses--\n\n    We meet them on the door-way, on the stair,\n      Along the passages they come and go,\n    Impalpable impressions on the air,\n      A sense of something moving to and fro.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[264] See Ingram's _Haunted Homes_, 2nd S. pp. 159-180.\n\n[265] See Lord Clarendon's _History of the Rebellion_, and _Notes and\nQueries_, July 1860.\n\n[266] _Gentleman's Magazine_, 1855, pt. ii. pp. 58, 59.\n\n[267] _More Ghost Stories_, p. 64.\n\n[268] _All the Year Round_, December 24, 1870.\n\n[269] See Ingram's _Haunted Homes_, 2nd S. pp. 226-233.\n\n[270] _Ibid._ see p. 222.\n\n[271] _More Ghost Stories_, W. T. Stead, 1892, p. 63.\n\n[272] Henderson's _Folk-lore of Northern Counties_, pp. 314, 315.\n\n[273] _Henderson's Folk-lore of Northern Counties_, pp. 314, 315.\n\n[274] See _Ibid._ p. 315; Ingram's _Haunted Homes_, pp. 266-277; _More\nGhost Stories_, W.\u00a0T. Stead.\n\n[275] Quoted in _Book of Days_, i. p. 649.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIV\n\nHAUNTED LOCALITIES\n\n\nSpirits in most countries are supposed to haunt all kinds of places,\nand not to confine themselves to any one locality. Local traditions\nshow how the most unlikely spots, which can boast of little or no\nromance, are supposed to be frequented by ghosts; the wayfarer along\nsome country road having oftentimes been confronted by an uncanny\napparition.\n\nIndeed, the superstitious fear of places being haunted by ghosts\nnot only led to the abandonment but even destruction of many a\ndwelling-place, a practice which, amongst uncultured tribes, not only\n'served as a check to material prosperity, but became an obstacle to\nprogress.'[276] But even in civilised countries the same antipathy\nto a haunted house is often found, and the ghostly tenant is allowed\nuninterrupted possession owing to the dread his presence inspires. The\nHottentots deserted the house after a decease,[277] and the Seminoles\nat once removed from the dwelling where death had occurred, and from\nthe neighbourhood where the body was buried. Among the South Slavonians\nand Bohemians, the bereaved family, returning from the grave, pelted\nthe ghost of their deceased relative with sticks, stones, and hot\ncoals. And the Tschuwasche, a tribe in Finland, opened fire on it as\nsoon as the coffin was outside the house. In Old Calabar, it was usual\nfor a son to leave his father's house for two years, after which time\nit was considered safe to return. If a Kaffir or Maori died before he\ncould be carried out, the house was tabooed and deserted.[278] The\nOjibways pulled down the house in which anyone had died, and chose\nanother one to live in as far off as possible. Even with the death of\nan infant the same fear was manifested. One day, when a friend visited\na neighbour whose child was sick, he was not a little surprised to\nfind, on his return in the evening, that the house had disappeared\nand all its inhabitants gone. Among the Abipones of Paraguay, when\nanyone's life is despaired of, the house is immediately forsaken by his\nfellow inmates, and the New England tribes would never live in a wigwam\nin which any person had died, but would immediately pull it down.\n\nIf a deceased Creek Indian 'has been a man of eminent character, the\nfamily immediately remove from the house in which he is buried, and\nerect a new one, with a belief that where the bones of their dead\nare deposited, the place is always attended by goblins.'[279] The\nKamtchadales frequently remove from their dwelling when anyone has\ndied, and among the Lepchas the house where there has been a death 'is\nalmost always forsaken by the surviving inmates.'[280] Occasionally,\nit would seem, the desertion is more complete. After a death, for\ninstance, the Boobies of Fernando Po forsake the village in which it\noccurred, and of the Bechuanas we read that 'on the death of Mallahawan\n... the town [Lattakoo] was removed, according to the custom of the\ncountry.'[281]\n\nGhosts are supposed to find pleasure in revisiting the places where\nthey have experienced joy, or sorrow and pain, and to wander round\nthe spot where they died, and hence all kinds of precautions have\nbeen adopted to prevent their returning. In Europe, sometimes, 'steps\nwere taken to barricade the house against him. Thus, in some parts of\nRussia and East Prussia, an axe or a lock is laid on the threshold, or\na knife is hung over the door, and in Germany as soon as the coffin is\ncarried out of the house all the doors and windows are shut.'[282] And\nconversely, it is a common custom in many parts of England to unfasten\nevery bolt and lock in the house that the spirit of the dying man may\nfreely escape.\n\nBut, as Mr. Frazer shows in his interesting paper on the 'Primitive\nGhost,' our ancestors knew how to outwit the ghost in its endeavour to\nfind its way back to the house it left at death. Thus the practice of\nclosing the eyes of the dead, he suggests, originated in 'blindfolding\nthe dead that he might not see the way by which he was carried to his\nlast home. At the grave, where he was to rest for ever, there was no\nmotive for concealment; hence the Romans, and apparently the Siamese,\nopened the eyes of the dead man at the funeral pyre. And the idea that\nif the eyes of the dead be not closed, his ghost will return to fetch\naway another of the household, still exists in Germany, Bohemia, and\nEngland.' With the same object the coffin was carried out of the house\nby a hole purposely made in the wall, which was stopped up as soon as\nthe body had passed through, so that, when the ghost strolled back from\nthe grave, he found there was no thoroughfare--a device shared equally\nby Greenlanders, Hottentots, Bechuanas, Samoieds, Ojibways, Algonquins,\nLaosians, Hindoos, Tibetans, Siamese, Chinese, and Fijians. These\n'doors of the dead' are still to be seen in a village near Amsterdam,\nand they were common in some towns of Central Italy. A trace of the\nsame custom survives in Th\u00fcringen, where there is a belief that the\nghost of a man who has been hanged will return to the house if not\ntaken out by a window instead of a door. Similarly, for the purpose of\nmisleading the dead, the Bohemians put on masks, that the dead might\nnot know and therefore might not follow them, and it is a matter of\nconjecture whether mourning customs may not have sprung from 'the\ndesire to disguise and therefore to protect the living from the dead.'\n\nAmong further methods in use for frustrating the return of the dead,\nmay be noticed the objection to utter the names of deceased persons--a\nsuperstition which Mr. Frazer shows has modified whole languages.\nThus, 'among the Australians, Tasmanians, and Abipones, if the name of\na deceased person happened to be a common name, e.g. the name of an\nanimal or plant, this name was abolished, and a new one substituted for\nit. During the residence of the Jesuit Missionary Dobritzhoffer amongst\nthe Abipones, the name for tiger was thus changed three times. Amongst\nthe Indians of Columbia, near relatives of a deceased person often\nchange their names, under the impression that the ghost will return if\nhe hears the familiar names.'[283]\n\nThe Sandwich Islanders say the spirit of the departed hovers about the\nplace of its former resort, and in the country north of the Zambesi\n'all believe that the souls of the departed still mingle among the\nliving, and partake in some way of the food they consume.' In the\nAleutian Islands, it is said that 'the invisible souls or shades of the\ndeparted wander about among their children.'\n\nBut one of the most favourite haunts of departed spirits is said to be\nburial-grounds, and especially their own graves, reminding us of Puck's\nwords in 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' (Act v. sc. 2):\n\n    Now it is the time of night,\n      That the graves all gaping wide,\n    Everyone lets forth his sprite,\n      In the church-way paths to glide.\n\n'The belief in ghosts,' writes Thorpe,[284] 'was deeply impressed\non the minds of the heathen Northmen, a belief closely connected\nwith their ideas of the state after death. The soul, they believed,\nreturned to the place whence it sprang, while the body, and the grosser\nlife bound to it, passed to the abode of Hel or Death. Herewith was\nnaturally combined the belief that the soul of the departed might, from\nits heavenly home, revisit the earth, there at night-time to unite\nitself in the grave-mound with the corporeal shadow released from Hel.\nThus the dead could show themselves in the open grave-mounds in the\nsame form which they had in life.'\n\nIndeed, it has been the current opinion for centuries that places of\nburial are haunted with spectres and apparitions. Ovid speaks of ghosts\ncoming out of their sepulchres and wandering about, and Virgil,[285]\ntoo, quoting the popular opinion of his day, tells us how 'Moeris\ncould call the ghosts out of their tombs.' In short, the idea of the\nghost remaining near the corpse is of world-wide prevalence, and, as\nDr. Tylor remarks,[286] 'through all the changes of religious thought\nfrom first to last in the course of human history, the hovering ghosts\nof the dead make the midnight burial-ground a place where man's flesh\ncreeps with terror.' We may further compare Hamlet's words (Act iii.\nsc. 2):\n\n    'Tis now the very witching time of night,\n    When church-yards yawn.\n\nAnd Puck also tells how, at the approach of Aurora, 'ghosts, wandering\nhere and there, troop home to churchyards.' Tracing this superstition\namongst uncultured tribes, we find the soul of the North American\nhovering about its burial-place, and among the Costa Ricans the spirits\nof the dead are believed to remain near their bodies for a year. The\nDayak's burial-place is frequented by ghosts, and the explorer Swan\ntells us that when he was with the North-Western Indians, he was not\nallowed to attend a funeral for fear of his offending the spirits\nhovering about. From the same authority we learn how at Stony Point,\non the north-west coast of America, a burial-place of the Indians was\nconsidered to be haunted by spirits, and on this account no Indian\never ventured there.[287] This dread of burial-grounds still retains\na persistent hold, and is one of those survivals of primitive belief\nwhich has given rise to a host of strange superstitious practices.\n\nKeppel, in his 'Visit to the Indian Archipelago,' says that in Northern\nAustralia the natives will not willingly approach graves at night,\nalone, 'but when they are obliged to pass them, they carry a firestick\nto keep off the spirit of darkness.'\n\nThere is still a belief that the ghost of the last person watches\nround the churchyard till another is buried, to whom he delivers his\ncharge. Crofton Croker says that in Ireland it is the general opinion\namong the lower orders that 'the last buried corpse has to perform an\noffice like that of \"fag\" in our public schools by the junior boy, and\nthat the attendance on his churchyard companions is duly relieved by\nthe interment of some other person.' Serious disturbances have resulted\nfrom this superstition, and terrific fights have at times taken place\nto decide which corpse should be buried first. The ancient churchyard\nof Truagh, county Monaghan, is said to be haunted by an evil spirit,\nwhose appearance generally forebodes death. The legend runs, writes\nLady Wilde,[288] 'that at funerals the spirit watches for the person\nwho remains last in the graveyard. If it be a young man who is there\nalone, the spirit takes the form of a beautiful young girl, inspires\nhim with an ardent passion, and exacts from him a promise that he will\nmeet her that day month in the churchyard. The promise is then sealed\nby a kiss, which sends a fatal fire through his veins, so that he is\nunable to resist her caresses, and makes the promise required. Then\nshe disappears, and the young man proceeds homewards; but no sooner\nhas he passed the boundary wall of the churchyard than the whole story\nof the evil rushes on his mind, and he knows that he has sold himself,\nsoul and body, for a demon's kiss. Then terror and dismay take hold of\nhim, till despair becomes insanity, and on the very day month fixed for\nthe meeting with the demon bride, the victim dies the death of a raving\nlunatic, and is laid in the fatal graveyard of Truagh.'\n\nThe dead, too, particularly object to persons treading carelessly on\ntheir graves, an allusion to which occurs in one of the songs of Greek\noutlawry:[289]\n\n    All Saturday we held carouse, and far through Sunday night,\n    And on the Monday morn we found our wine expended quite.\n    To seek for more, without delay, the captain made me go;\n    I ne'er had seen nor known the way, nor had a guide to show.\n    And so through solitary roads and secret paths I sped,\n    Which to a little ivied church long time deserted led.\n    This church was full of tombs, and all by gallant men possest;\n    One sepulchre stood all alone, apart from all the rest.\n    I did not see it, and I trod above the dead man's bones,\n    And as from out the nether world came up a sound of groans.\n    'What ails thee, sepulchre? Why thus so deeply groan and sigh?\n    Doth the earth press, or the black stone weigh on thee heavily?'\n    'Neither the earth doth press me down, nor black stone do me scath,\n    But I with bitter grief am wrung, and full of shame and wrath,\n    That thou dost trample on my head, and I am scorned in death.\n    Perhaps I was not also young, nor brave and stout in fight,\n    Nor wont, as thou, beneath the moon, to wander through the night.'\n\nAccording to the Guiana Indians, 'every place is haunted where any have\ndied;' and in Madagascar the ghosts of ancestors are said to hover\nabout their tombs. The East Africans 'appear to imagine the souls to be\nalways near the place of sepulture,' and on the Gold Coast 'the spirit\nis supposed to remain near the spot where the body has been buried.'\nThe souls of warriors slain on the field of battle are considered by\nthe Mangaians to wander for a while amongst the rocks and trees of\nthe neighbourhood in which their bodies were thrown. At length 'the\nfirst slain on each battlefield would collect his brothers' ghosts,\nand lead them to the summit of a mountain, whence they leap into the\nblue expanse, thus becoming the peculiar clouds of the winter.'[290]\nAnd the Mayas of Yucatan think the souls of the dead return to the\nearth if they choose, and, in order that they may not lose the way to\nthe domestic hearth, they mark the path from the hut to the tomb with\nchalk.[291]\n\nThe primitive doctrine of souls obliges the savage, says Mr.\nDorman,[292] 'to think of the spirit of the dead as close at hand. Most\nuncultured tribes, on this account, regard the spot where death has\ntaken place as haunted. A superstitious fear soon instigates worship,\nand this worship, beginning at the tombs and burial-places, develops\ninto the temple ritual of higher culture.'\n\nThe Iroquois believe the space between the earth and sky is full of\nspirits, usually invisible, but occasionally seen, and the Ojibways\naffirm that innumerable spirits are ever near, and dwell in all kinds\nof places. European folk-lore has similar beliefs, it having been a\nScandinavian idea that the souls of the departed dwell in the interior\nof mountains, a phase of superstition which frequently presents\nitself in the Icelandic sagas, and exists in Germany at the present\nday. 'Of some German mountains,' writes Thorpe, 'it is believed that\nthey are the abodes of the damned. One of these is the Horselberg,\nnear Eisenach, which is the habitation of Frau Holle; another is the\nfabulous Venusberg, in which the Tannh\u00e4user sojourns, and before which\nthe trusty Eckhart sits as a warning guardian.'[293]\n\nDeparted souls were also supposed to dwell in the bottom of wells and\nponds, with which may be compared the many tales current throughout\nGermany and elsewhere of towns and castles that have been sunk in the\nwater, and are at times visible. But, as few subjects have afforded\ngreater scope for the imagination than the hereafter of the human soul,\nnumerous myths and legendary stories have been invented to account for\nits mysterious departure in the hour of death. Shakespeare has alluded\nto the numerous destinations of the disembodied spirit, enumerating\nthe many ideas prevalent, in his day, on the subject. In 'Measure for\nMeasure' (Act iii. sc. 1) Claudio pathetically says:\n\n    Ay, but to die, and go we know not where;\n    To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot;\n    This sensible warm motion to become\n    A kneaded clod, and the delighted spirit\n    To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside\n    In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice;\n    To be imprison'd in the viewless winds,\n    And blown with restless violence round about\n    The pendent world.[294]\n\nIndeed, it would be a long task to enter into the mass of mystic\ndetails respecting 'the soul's dread journey by caverns and rocky paths\nand weary plains, over steep and slippery mountains, by frail bank or\ngiddy bridge, across gulfs or rushing rivers,' to its destined home.\n\nAccording to the Mazovians the soul remains with the coffin, sitting\nupon the upper part of it until the burial is over, when it flies\naway. Such traditions, writes Mr. Ralston,[295] 'vary in different\nlocalities, but everywhere, among all the Slavonic people, there seems\nalways to have prevailed an idea that death does not finally sever the\nties between the living and the dead. This idea has taken various\nforms, and settled into several widely differing superstitions, lurking\nin the secrecy of the cottage, and there keeping alive the cultus of\nthe domestic spirit, and showing itself openly in the village church,\nwhere on a certain day it calls for a service in remembrance of the\ndead. The spirits of those who are thus remembered, say the peasants,\nattend the service, taking their place behind the altar. But those who\nare left unremembered weep bitterly all through the day.'\n\nIn some parts of Ireland, writes Mr. McAnally, 'there exists a belief\nthat the spirits of the dead are not taken from earth, nor do they lose\nall their former interest in earthly affairs, but enjoy the happiness\nof the saved, or suffer the punishment imposed for their sins in the\nneighbourhood of the scenes among which they lived while clothed in\nflesh and blood. At particular crises in the affairs of mortals these\ndisenthralled spirits sometimes display joy and grief in such a manner\nas to attract the attention of living men and women. At weddings they\nare frequently unseen guests; at funerals they are always present; and\nsometimes, at both weddings and funerals, their presence is recognised\nby aerial voices, or mysterious music, known to be of unearthly origin.\nThe spirits of the good wander with the living as guardian angels; but\nthe spirits of the bad are restrained in their action, and compelled to\ndo penance at, or near, the place where their crimes were committed.\nSome are chained at the bottom of lakes, others buried underground,\nothers confined in mountain gorges, some hang on the sides of\nprecipices, others are transfixed on the tree-tops, while others haunt\nthe homes of their ancestors, all waiting till the penance has been\nendured and the hour of deliverance arrives.'\n\nHarriet Martineau, speaking of the English lakes, says that Souter or\nSoutra Fell is the mountain on which ghosts appeared in myriads at\nintervals during ten years of the last century. 'On the Midsummer Eve\nof the fearful 1745, twenty-six persons, expressly summoned by the\nfamily, saw all that had been seen before, and more. Carriages were\nnow interspersed with the troops; and everybody knew that no carriages\nhad been, or could be, on the summit of Souter Fell. The multitude was\nbeyond imagination; for the troops filled a space of half a mile, and\nmarched quickly till night hid them, still marching. There was nothing\nvaporous or indistinct about the appearance of these spectres. So real\ndid they seem, that some of the people went up the next morning to look\nfor the hoof-marks of the horses; and awful it was to them to find not\none footprint on heather or grass.' This spectral march was similar to\nthat seen at Edge Hill, in Leicestershire, in 1707, and corresponds\nwith the tradition of the tramp of armies over Helvellyn, on the eve of\nthe battle of Marston Moor.\n\nWith such phantoms may be compared the mock suns, the various\nappearances of halos and wandering lights, and such a phenomenon as\nthe 'Spectre of the Brocken.' Calmet relates a singular instance at\nMilan, where some two thousand persons saw, as they supposed, an angel\nhovering in the air: he cites Cardan as an eye-witness, who says that\nthe populace were only undeceived when it was shown, by a sharp-sighted\nlawyer, to be a reflection from one of the statues of a neighbouring\nchurch, the image of which was caught on the surface of a cloud. The\nmirage, or water of the desert, owes its appearance to similar laws\nof refraction. Mountain districts, we know, abound in these illusions,\nand 'the splendid enchantment presented in the Straits of Reggio by\nthe Fata Morgana' has attracted much notice. At such times, 'minarets,\ntemples, and palaces, have seemed to rise out of the distant waves;'\nand spectral huntsmen, soldiers in battle array, and gay but mute\ncavalcades, have appeared under similar circumstances, pictured on\nthe table of the clouds. It was thus, we are told, that the Duke of\nBrunswick and Mrs. Graham saw the image of their balloon distinctly\nexhibited on the face of a cumulous cloud, in 1836; and travellers on\nMont Blanc have been startled by their own magnified shadows, floating\namong the giant peaks.[296] It is difficult to say how many of the\napparitions which have been supposed to haunt certain spots might be\nattributed to similar causes.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[276] Dorman's _Primitive Superstitions_, p. 22.\n\n[277] See Tylor's _Primitive Culture_, ii. p. 26.\n\n[278] _Contemporary Review_, xlviii. p. 108.\n\n[279] Schoolcraft's _Indian Tribes_, v. p. 270.\n\n[280] See Herbert Spencer's _Principles of Sociology_, 1885, i. p. 199.\n\n[281] _Ibid._ p. 199.\n\n[282] The _Contemporary Review_, xlviii. p. 109.\n\n[283] The _Contemporary Review_, xlviii. p. 111.\n\n[284] _Northern Mythology_, ii. p. 20.\n\n[285] _Bucolics_, viii. p. 98.\n\n[286] _Primitive Culture_, ii. p. 30.\n\n[287] See Dorman's _Primitive Superstitions_, p. 21.\n\n[288] _Ancient Cures, Charms, and Usages of Ireland_, p. 84.\n\n[289] _Essay in the Study of Folk-Songs_, pp. 14, 15.\n\n[290] Gill: _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, pp. 162, 163.\n\n[291] See Dorman's _Primitive Superstitions_, p. 33.\n\n[292] _Ibid._ p. 30.\n\n[293] _Northern Mythology_, i. p. 286.\n\n[294] Cf. _Othello_, Act v. sc. 2.\n\n[295] _Songs of the Russian People_, pp. 115, 116.\n\n[296] _Occult Sciences_, 1855; _Apparitions_, pp. 80, 81.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXV\n\nCHECKS AND SPELLS AGAINST GHOSTS\n\n\nAmongst the qualities ascribed to the cock was the time-honoured belief\nthat by its crow it dispelled all kinds of ghostly beings--a notion\nalluded to by the poet Prudentius, who flourished at the commencement\nof the fourth century. There is, also, a hymn said to have been\ncomposed by St. Ambrose, and formerly used in the Salisbury Missal, in\nwhich allusion is made to this superstition. In Blair's 'Grave' the\napparition vanishes at the crowing of the cock, and in 'Hamlet,' on the\ndeparture of the ghost, Bernardo says:\n\n    It was about to speak when the cock crew;\n\nto which Horatio answers:\n\n    And then it started like a guilty thing\n    Upon a fearful summons. I have heard\n    The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,\n    Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat\n    Awake the god of day; and, at his warning,\n    Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,\n    The extravagant and erring spirit hies\n    To his confine: and of the truth herein\n    This present object made probation.\n\nWhereupon Marcellus adds the well-known lines:\n\n    It faded on the crowing of the cock.\n    Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes,\n    Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,\n    The bird of dawning singeth all night long;\n    And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad;\n    The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike,\n    No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,\n    So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.\n\nEven the devil is powerless at the sound of cock-crow. An amusing story\nis told on the Continent of how a farmer's wife tricked the devil by\nmeans of this spell. It appears that her husband was mourning the loss\nof his barn--either by wind or fire--when a stranger addressed him,\nand said: 'That I can easily remedy. If you will just write your name\nin your blood on this parchment, your barn shall be fixed and ready\nto-morrow before the cock crows; if not, our contract is void.' But\nafterwards the farmer repented of the bargain he had made, and, on\nconsulting his wife, she ran out in the middle of the night, and found\na number of workmen employed on the barn. Thereupon she cried with all\nher might, 'Cock-a-doodle-doo! cock-a-doodle-doo!' and was followed\nby all the cocks in the neighbourhood, each of which sent forth a\nhearty 'Cock-a-doodle-doo!' At the same moment all the phantom workmen\ndisappeared, and the barn remained unfinished. In a pretty Swedish\nballad of 'Little Christina,' a lover rises from the grave to console\nhis beloved. One night Christina hears light fingers tapping at the\ndoor; she opens it and sees her betrothed. She washes his feet with\npure wine, and for a long while they converse. Then the cocks begin to\ncrow, and the dead get them underground. The young girl follows her\nsweetheart through the white forest, and when they reach the graveyard,\nthe fair hair of the young man begins to disappear. 'See, maiden,' he\nsays, 'how the moon has reddened all at once; even so, in a moment,\nthy beloved will vanish.' She sits down on the tomb, and says, 'I\nshall remain here till the Lord calls me.' Then she hears the voice\nof her betrothed, 'Little Christina, go back to thy dwelling-place.\nEvery time a tear falls from thine eyes my shroud is full of blood.\nEvery time thy heart is gay, my shroud is full of rose-leaves.' These\nfolk-tales are interesting, as embodying the superstitions of the\npeople among whom they are current.\n\nA similar idea prevails in India, where the cock is with the Hindoos,\nas with the English peasant, a most potent instrument in the\nsubjugation of troublesome spirits. A paragraph in the 'Carnatic Times'\ntells us how a Hindoo exorcist tied his patient's hair in a knot, and\nthen with a nail attached it to a tree. Muttering some 'incantatory'\nlines, he seized a live cock, and holding it over the girl's head with\none hand, he, with the other, cut its throat. The blood-stained knot of\nhair was left attached to the tree, which was supposed to detain the\ndemon. It is further supposed that 'one or a legion thus exorcised will\nhaunt that tree till he or they shall choose to take possession of some\nother unfortunate.'\n\nIt was said that chastity was of itself a safeguard against the\nmalignant power of bad ghosts; a notion to which Milton has referred:\n\n    Some say no evil thing that walks by night,\n    In fog or fire, by lake or moorish fen,\n    Blue meagre hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost,\n    That breaks the magic chains at curfew-time,\n    No goblin, or swart faery of the mine,\n    Hath hurtful power o'er true virginity.\n\nThe cross and holy water have, too, generally been considered sacred\npreservatives against devils and spirits, illustrations of which will\nbe found in many of our old romances.[297]\n\nFire, like water,[298] has been employed for the purpose of excluding\nor barring the ghost, and Mr. Frazer writes how 'the Siberians seek\nto get rid of the ghost of the departed by leaping over a fire. At\nRome, mourners returning from a funeral stepped over fire,' a practice\nwhich still exists in China. A survival of this custom prevails among\nthe south Slavonians, who, on their return from a funeral, are met\nby an old woman carrying a vessel of live coals. On these they pour\nwater, or else they take a live coal from the hearth and fling it over\ntheir heads. The Brahmans simply touched fire, while in Ruthenia 'the\nmourners merely look steadfastly at the stove or place their hands on\nit.'[299] It is noteworthy that in the Highlands of Scotland and in\nBurma, the house-fires were always extinguished when a death happened;\nfor fear, no doubt, of the ghost being accidentally burnt.\n\nThe Eskimos drive away spirits by blowing their breath at them,[300]\nand the Mayas of Yucatan had evil spirits which could be driven away\nby the sorcerers; but they never came near when their fetiches were\nexposed. They had a ceremony for expelling evil spirits from houses\nabout to be occupied by newly married persons.[301] The natives of\nBrazil so much dread the ghosts of the dead that it is recorded how\nsome of them have been struck with sudden death because of an imaginary\napparition of them. They try to appease them by fastening offerings on\nstakes fixed in the ground for that purpose.[302]\n\nMutilations of the dead were supposed to keep his ghost harmless, and\non this account Greek murderers hacked off the extremities of their\nvictims. Australians cut off the right thumb of a slain enemy that his\nghost might not be able to draw the bow. And in Arabia, Germany, and\nSpain, as the ghosts of murderers and their victims are especially\nrestless, everyone who passes their graves is bound to add a stone to\nthe pile.[303]\n\nIn Pekin, six or seven feet away from the front of the doors, small\nbrick walls are built up. These are to keep the spirits out, which\nfly only in straight lines, and therefore find a baulk in their way.\nAnother mode of keeping spirits away in the case of children is to\nattire them as priests, and also to dress the boys as girls, who are\nsupposed to be the less susceptible to the evil influence. In fact,\nmost countries have their contrivances for counteracting, in one way or\nanother, the influence of departed spirits--a piece of superstition of\nwhich European folk-lore affords abundant illustrations.\n\nThus, in Norway, bullets, gunpowder, and weapons have no influence on\nghosts, but at the sight of a cross, and from exorcisms, they must\nretire. The same belief prevails in Denmark, where all kinds of checks\nto ghostly influence are resorted to. It is said, for instance, to\nbe dangerous to shoot at a spectre, as the bullet will return on him\nwho shot it. But if the piece be loaded with a silver button, that\nwill infallibly take effect. A Danish tradition tells how once there\nwas a horrible spectre which caused great fear and disquietude, as\neveryone who saw it died immediately afterwards. In this predicament,\na young fellow offered to encounter the apparition, and to endeavour\nto drive it away. For this purpose he went at midnight to the church\npath, through which the spectre was in the habit of passing, having\npreviously provided himself with steel in various shapes. When the\napparition approached, he fearlessly threw steel before its feet,\nso that it was obliged instantly to turn back, and it appeared no\nmore.[304] A common superstition, equally popular in England as on\nthe Continent, is that when a horseshoe is nailed over the doorway\nno spirit can enter. It is also said that 'if anyone is afraid of\nspectres, let him strew flax seed before the door; then no spirit\ncan cross the threshold. A preventive equally efficacious is to place\none's slippers by the bedside with the heels towards the bed. Spectres\nmay be driven away by smoking the room with the snuff of a tallow\ncandle; while wax-lights attract them.' And at the present day various\ndevices are adopted by our English peasantry for warding off from their\ndwellings ghosts, and other uncanny intruders.[305]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[297] See E. Yardley's _Supernatural in Fiction_, pp. 29-31.\n\n[298] See Chapter on 'Ghost Laying.'\n\n[299] _Contemporary Review_, xlviii. p. 112; Ralston's _Songs of the\nRussian People_, p. 319.\n\n[300] Dorman's _Primitive Superstitions_, p. 20.\n\n[301] _Ibid._ p. 29.\n\n[302] _Ibid._ p. 21.\n\n[303] 'The Primitive Ghost,' _Contemporary Review_, xlviii. p. 107.\n\n[304] Thorpe's _Northern Mythology_, ii. p. 205.\n\n[305] See Harland and Wilkinson's _Lancashire Folk-lore_, 1867, p. 63.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVI\n\nWRAITH-SEEING\n\n\nClosely allied to 'second sight' is the doctrine of 'wraiths' or\n'fetches,' sometimes designated 'doubles'--an apparition exactly\nlike a living person, its appearance, whether to that person or\nto another, being considered an omen of death. The 'Fetch' is a\nwell-known superstition in Ireland, and is supposed to be a mere\nshadow, 'resembling in stature, features, and dress, a living person,\nand often mysteriously or suddenly seen by a very particular friend.'\nSpiritlike, it flits before the sight, seeming to walk leisurely\nthrough the fields, often disappearing through a gap or lane. The\nperson it resembles is usually known at the time to be labouring under\nsome mortal illness, and unable to leave his or her bed. When the\n'fetch' appears agitated, or eccentric in its motions, a violent or\npainful death is indicated for the doomed prototype. Such a phantom,\ntoo, is said to make its appearance at the same time, and in the same\nplace, to more than one person.[306] Should it be seen in the morning,\na happy longevity for the original is confidently expected; but if it\nbe seen in the evening, immediate dissolution of the living prototype\nis anticipated. It is thought, too, that individuals may behold their\nown 'fetches.' Queen Elizabeth is said to have been warned of her death\nby the apparition of her own double, and Miss Strickland thus describes\nher last illness: 'As her mortal illness drew towards a close, the\nsuperstitious fears of her simple ladies were excited almost to mania,\neven to conjuring up a spectral apparition of the Queen while she\nwas yet alive. Lady Guilford, who was then in waiting on the Queen,\nleaving her in an almost breathless sleep in her privy chamber, went\nout to take a little air, and met her Majesty, as she thought, three or\nfour chambers off. Alarmed at the thought of being discovered in the\nact of leaving the royal patient alone, she hurried forward in some\ntrepidation in order to excuse herself, when the apparition vanished\naway. She returned terrified to the chamber, but there lay the Queen in\nthe same lethargic slumber in which she left her.'\n\nShelley, shortly before his death, believed he had seen his wraith.\n'On June 23,' says one of his biographers, 'he was heard screaming at\nmidnight in the saloon. The Williamses ran in and found him staring\non vacancy. He had had a vision of a cloaked figure which came to\nhis bedside and beckoned him to follow. He did so, and when they had\nreached the sitting-room, the figure lifted the hood of his cloak and\ndisclosed Shelley's own features, and saying \"Siete soddisfatto?\"\nvanished. This vision is accounted for on the ground that Shelley had\nbeen reading a drama attributed to Calderon, named 'El Embozado, \u00f3 el\nEncapotado,' in which a mysterious personage who had been haunting\nand thwarting the hero all his life, and is at last about to give\nhim satisfaction in a duel, unmasks and proves to be the hero's own\nwraith. He also asks, \"Art thou satisfied?\" and the haunted man dies of\nhorror.' Sir Robert Napier is supposed to have seen his double, and\nAubrey quaintly relates how 'the beautiful Lady Diana Rich, daughter\nto the Earl of Holland, as she was walking in her father's garden at\nKensington to take the air before dinner, about 11 o'clock, being\nthen very well, met her own apparition, habit and everything, as in a\nlooking-glass. About a month after, she died of small-pox. And it is\nsaid that her sister, the Lady Isabella Thynne, saw the like of herself\nalso before she died. This account I had from a person of honour. A\nthird sister, Mary, was married to the Earl of Breadalbane, and it has\nbeen recorded that she also, not long after her marriage, had some such\nwarning of her approaching dissolution.'\n\nThe Irish novelist, John Banim, has written both a novel and a ballad\non this subject, one which has also largely entered into many a\ntradition and folk-tale.[307] In Cumberland this apparition is known by\nthe peasantry as a 'swarth,' and in Yorkshire by the name of a 'waff.'\nThe gift of wraith-seeing still flourishes on the Continent, and\nexamples abound in Silesia and the Tyrol.\n\n'With regard to bilocation, or double personality,' writes a Catholic\npriest,[308] 'there is a great deal of very interesting matter in\nSt. Thomas of Aquin, and also in Cardinal Cajetan's \"Commentaries of\nSt. Thomas.\" The substance of the principles is this: Bilocation,\nproperly so called, is defined by the scholastics as the perfect and\nsimultaneous existence of one and the same individual in two distinct\nplaces at the same time. This _never_ does and never can happen. But\nbilocation, improperly so called, and which St. Thomas terms _raptus_,\ndoes occur, and is identical with the double, as you call it, in the\ncases of St. Gennadius, St. Ignatius, &c.\n\n'St. Thomas quotes as illustrations or instances, St. Paul being taken\nup to the Third Heaven. Ezekiel, the prophet, was taken by God and\nshown Jerusalem, whilst at the same time he was sitting in the room\nwith the ancients of the tribe of Judah before him (Ezekiel viii.),\n&c. In which the soul of man is not wholly detached from the body,\nbeing necessary for the purpose of giving life, but is detached from\nthe _senses_ of the body. St. Thomas gives three causes for this\nphenomenon: (1) Divine power; (2) the power of the Devil; and (3),\ndisease of the body when very violent sometimes.' Bardinus tells how\nMarsilius Ficinus appeared at the hour of his death on a white horse to\nMichael Mercatus, and rode away crying, 'O Michael, Michael, vera, vera\nsunt illa,' that is, the doctrine of a future life is true. Instances\nof this kind of phenomenon have been common in all ages of the world,\nand Lucretius suggested the strange fancy that the superficial surfaces\nof all bodies were continually flying off like the coats of an onion,\nwhich accounted for the appearance of apparitions; whilst Jacques\nGaffarel suggested that corrupting bodies send forth vapours which,\nbeing compressed by the cold night air, appear visible to the eye in\nthe forms of men.[309]\n\nIn one of the notes to 'Les Imaginations Extravagantes de Monsieur\nOufle,' by the Abb\u00e9 Bord\u00e9lon, it is said that the monks and nuns, a\nshort time before their death, have seen the images of themselves\nseated in their chairs or stalls. Catharine of Russia, after retiring\nto her bedroom, was told that she had been seen just before to enter\nthe State Chamber. On hearing this she went thither, and saw the exact\nsimilitude of herself seated upon the throne. She ordered her guards to\nfire upon it.\n\nIn Scotland and the northern counties of England it was formerly said\nthat the apparition of the person that was doomed to die within a\nshort time was seen wrapped in a winding-sheet, and the higher the\nwinding-sheet reached up towards the head the nearer was death. This\napparition was seen during day, and it might show itself to anyone, but\nonly to one, who generally fell into a faint a short time afterwards.\nIf the person who saw the apparition was alone at the time, the\nfainting fit did not come on till after meeting with others.\n\nIn the 'Statistical Account of Scotland' (xxi. 148), the writer,\nspeaking of the parish of Monquhitter, says, the 'fye gave due warning\nby certain signs of approaching mortality'; and, again (149), 'the\nfye has withdrawn his warning.' Some friends observing to an old\nwoman, when in the ninety-ninth year of her age, that, in the course\nof nature, she could not long survive, she remarked, with pointed\nindignation, 'What fye-token do you see about me?'\n\nIn the same work (iii. 380) the minister of Applecross, county of\nRoss, speaking of the superstitions of that parish, says: 'The ghosts\nof the dying, called \"tasks,\" are said to be heard, their cry being\na repetition of the moans of the sick. Some assume the sagacity of\ndistinguishing the voice of their departed friends. The corpse follows\nthe track led by the \"tasks\" to the place of interment, and the early\nor late completion of the prediction is made to depend on the period of\nthe night at which the \"task\" is heard.'\n\nThe Scotch wraith and Irish fetch have their parallel in Wales in\nthe Lledrith, or spectre of a person seen before his death. It never\nspeaks, and vanishes if spoken to. It has been seen by miners previous\nto a fatal accident in the mine. The story is told of a miner who saw\nhimself lying dead and horribly maimed in a phantom tram-car, led by\na phantom horse, and surrounded by phantom miners. As he watched this\ndreadful group of spectres they passed on, looking neither to the\nright nor the left, and faded away. The miner's dog was as frightened\nas its master, and ran away howling. The miner continued to work in the\npit, and as the days passed on and no harm came to him he grew more\ncheerful, and was so bold as to laugh at the superstition. But the\nday he did this a stone fell from the roof and broke his arm. As soon\nas he recovered he resumed work in the pit; but a stone crushed him,\nand he was borne maimed and dead in the tram along the road where his\n'lledrith' had appeared.[310]\n\n'Examining,' says Dr. Tylor,[311] 'the position of the doctrine of\nwraiths among the higher races, we find it specially prominent in three\nintellectual districts: Christian hagiology, popular folk-lore, and\nmodern spiritualism. St. Anthony saw the soul of St. Ammonius carried\nto heaven in the midst of choirs of angels, the same day that the\nholy hermit died five days' journey off in the desert of Nitria. When\nSt. Ambrose died on Easter Eve, several newly-baptized children saw\nthe holy bishop and pointed him out to their parents; but these, with\ntheir less pure eyes, could not behold him.' Numerous instances of\nwraith-seeing have been chronicled from time to time, some of which\nare noteworthy. It is related how Ben Jonson, when staying at Sir\nRobert Cotton's house, was visited by the apparition of his eldest son,\nwith a mark of a bloody cross upon his forehead, at the moment of his\ndeath by the plague. Lord Balcarres, it is said, when in confinement\nin Edinburgh Castle under suspicion of Jacobitism, was one morning\nlying in bed when the curtains were drawn aside by his friend Viscount\nDundee, who looked upon him steadfastly, and then left the room.\nShortly afterwards the news came that he had fallen about the same\nhour at Killiecrankie. Lord Mohun, who was killed in a duel in Chelsea\nFields, is reported to have appeared at the moment of his death, in the\nyear 1642, to a lady in James Street, Covent Garden, and also to the\nsister of Glanvill, famous as the author of 'Sadducismus Triumphatus.'\nIt is related how the second Earl of Chesterfield, in 1652, saw, when\nwalking, a spectre with long white robes and black face. Regarding it\nas an intimation of some illness of his wife, then visiting her father\nat Networth, he set off early to inquire, and met a servant from Lady\nChesterfield, describing the same apparition. Anna Maria Porter, when\nliving at Esher, was visited by an old gentleman, a neighbour, who\nfrequently came in to tea. On this occasion, the story goes, he left\nthe room without speaking; and, fearing that something had happened,\nshe sent to inquire, and found that he had died at the moment of his\nappearance. Similarly Maria Edgeworth, when waiting with her family for\nan expected guest, saw in a vacant chair the apparition of a sailor\ncousin, who suddenly stated that his ship had been wrecked and he\nhimself the only one saved. The event proved the contrary--he alone was\ndrowned.[312]\n\nOne of the most striking and best authenticated cases on record is\nknown as the Birkbeck Ghost, and is thus related in the 'Proceedings\nof the Psychical Research Society': 'In 1789, Mrs. Birkbeck, wife of\nWilliam Birkbeck, banker, of Settle, and a member of the Society of\nFriends, was taken ill and died at Cockermouth while returning from\na journey to Scotland, which she had undertaken alone--her husband\nand three children, aged seven, five, and four years respectively,\nremaining at Settle. The friends at whose house the death occurred\nmade notes of every circumstance attending Mrs. Birkbeck's last hours,\nso that the accuracy of the several statements as to time as well as\nplace was beyond the doubtfulness of man's memory, or of any even\nunconscious attempt to bring them into agreement with each other. One\nmorning, between seven and eight o'clock, the relation to whom the care\nof the children had been entrusted, and who kept a minute journal of\nall that concerned them, went into their bedroom, as usual, and found\nthem all sitting up in bed in great excitement and delight. \"Mamma has\nbeen here,\" they cried; and the little one said, \"She called, 'Come,\nEsther!'\" Nothing could make them doubt the fact, and it was carefully\nnoted down to entertain the mother when she came home. That same\nmorning, as their mother lay on her dying bed at Cockermouth, she said,\n\"I should be ready to go if I could but see my children.\" She then\nclosed her eyes, to reopen them, as they thought, no more. But after\nten minutes of perfect stillness she looked up brightly, and said,\n\"I am ready now; I have been with my children;\" and at once passed\npeacefully away. When the notes taken at the two places were compared,\nthe day, hour, and minutes were the same.'\n\nBaxter, in his 'World of Spirits,' records a very similar case of a\ndying woman visiting her children in Rochester, and in a paper on\n'Ghosts and Goblins,' which appeared in the 'Cornhill' (1873, xxvii.\n457), the writer relates how, in a house in Ireland, a girl lay dying.\nHer mother and father were with her, and her five sisters were praying\nfor her in a neighbouring room. This room was well lit, but overhead\nwas a skylight, and the dark sky beyond. One of the sisters, looking\ntowards this skylight, saw there the face of her dying sister looking\nsorrowfully down upon them. She seized another sister and pointed to\nthe skylight; one after another the sisters looked where she pointed.\nThey spoke no word; and in a few moments their father and mother called\nthem to the room where their sister had just died. But when afterwards\nthey talked together about what had happened that night, it was found\nthat they had all seen the vision and the sorrowful face. But, as the\nwriter observes, 'in stories where a ghost appears for some useful\npurpose, the mind does not reject the event as altogether unreasonable,\nthough the circumstances may be sufficiently preposterous;' but one can\nconceive no reason why the vision of a dying sister should look down\nthrough a skylight.\n\nAccording to a Lancashire belief, the spirits of persons about to die,\nespecially if the persons be in distant lands, are supposed to return\nto their friends, and thus predict the event. While the spirit is thus\naway, the person is supposed to be in a swoon, and unaware of what is\npassing. But his desire to see his friends is necessary; and he must\nhave been thinking of them.[313]\n\nIt is related from Devonshire, of the well-known Dr. Hawker, that, when\nwalking one night, he observed an old woman pass by him, to whom he was\nin the habit of giving a weekly charity. As soon as she had passed, he\nfelt somebody pull his coat, and on looking round he recognised her,\nand put his hand in his pocket to seek for a sixpence, but on turning\nto give it to her she was gone. On his return home he heard she was\ndead, but his family had forgotten to mention the circumstance.[314]\n\nA correspondent of 'Notes and Queries' (3rd S. vi. 182) tells how a\njudge of the Staffordshire County Courts, being on one occasion in the\nNorth, went with his sisters into the church of the place to inspect\nits monuments. While there they were surprised to see a lady, whom they\nknew to be in Bath, walk in at one door and out through another. They\nimmediately followed, but could neither see nor hear anything further\nof her. On writing to her friends, it was found that she was dead, and\na second letter elicited the fact that she had died at the very same\ntime at which she had been seen by them in the North.\n\nPatrick Kennedy, in his 'Legendary Fiction of the Irish Celt,' speaking\nof the Irish fetch, gives the following tale of 'The Doctor's Fetch,'\nbased, it is stated, on the most authentic sources: 'In one of our\nIrish cities, and in a room where the mild moonbeams were resting on\nthe carpet and on a table near the window, Mrs. B., wife of a doctor\nin good practice and general esteem, looking towards the window from\nher pillow, was startled by the appearance of her husband standing\nnear the table just mentioned, and seeming to look with attention on\nthe book which was lying open on it. Now, the living and breathing man\nwas by her side apparently asleep, and, greatly as she was surprised\nand affected, she had sufficient command of herself to remain without\nmoving, lest she should expose him to the terror which she herself\nat the moment experienced. After gazing on the apparition for a few\nseconds, she bent her eyes upon her husband to ascertain if his looks\nwere turned in the direction of the window, but his eyes were closed.\nShe turned round again, although now dreading the sight of what she\nbelieved to be her husband's fetch, but it was no longer there. She\nremained sleepless throughout the remainder of the night, but still\nbravely refrained from disturbing her partner.\n\n'Next morning, Mr. B., seeing signs of disquiet on his wife's\ncountenance while at breakfast, made some affectionate inquiries, but\nshe concealed her trouble, and at his ordinary hour he sallied forth\nto make his calls. Meeting Dr. C. in the street, and falling into\nconversation with him, he asked his opinion on the subject of fetches.\n\"I think,\" was the answer, \"and so I am sure do you, that they are mere\nillusions produced by a disturbed stomach acting upon the excited brain\nof a highly imaginative or superstitious person.\" \"Then,\" said Dr. B.,\n\"I am highly imaginative or superstitious, for I distinctly saw my\nown outward man last night standing at the table in the bedroom, and\nclearly distinguishable in the moonlight. I am afraid my wife saw it\ntoo, but I have been afraid to speak to her on the subject.\"\n\n'About the same hour on the ensuing night the poor lady was again\nroused, but by a more painful circumstance. She felt her husband\nmoving convulsively, and immediately afterwards he cried to her in\nlow, interrupted accents, \"Ellen, my dear, I am suffocating; send for\nDr. C.\" She sprang up, huddled on some clothes, and ran to his house.\nHe came with all speed, but his efforts for his friend were useless.\nHe had burst a large blood-vessel in the lungs, and was soon beyond\nhuman aid. In her lamentations the bereaved wife frequently cried out,\n\"Oh! the fetch, the fetch!\" and at a later period told the doctor of\nthe appearance the night before her husband's death.' But, whilst\nmany stories of this kind are open to explanation, it is a singular\ncircumstance how even several persons may be deceived by an illusion\nsuch as the following. A gentleman who had lately lost his wife,\nlooking out of window in the dusk of evening, saw her sitting in a\ngarden-chair. He called one of his daughters and asked her to look out\ninto the garden. 'Why,' she said, 'mother is sitting there.' Another\ndaughter was called, and she experienced the same illusion. Then the\ngentleman went out into the garden, and found that a garden-dress of\nhis wife's had been placed over the seat in such a position as to\nproduce the illusion which had deceived himself and his daughters.\n\nIn 'Phantasms of the Living'[315] very many strange and startling cases\nare recorded, in which the mysterious 'double' has appeared, sometimes\nspeaking, and sometimes without speech, although such manifestations\nhave not always been omens of death. Thus the late Lord Dorchester[316]\nis said to have seen the phantom of his daughter standing at the\nwindow, having his attention aroused by its shadow, which fell across\nthe book he was reading at the time. She had accompanied a fishing\nexpedition, was caught in a storm, and was distressed at the thought\nthat her father would be anxious on her account.\n\nIn Fitzroy's 'Cruise of the Beagle' an anecdote is told of a young\nFuegian, Jemmy Button, and his father's ghost. 'While at sea, on board\nthe \"Beagle,\" about the middle of the year 1842, he said one morning to\nMr. Byno, that in the night some man came to the side of his hammock,\nand whispered in his ear that his father was dead. Mr. Byno tried to\nlaugh him out of the idea, but ineffectually. He fully believed that\nsuch was the case, and maintained his opinion up to the time of finding\nhis relations in Beagle Channel, when, I regret to say, he found that\nhis father had died some months previously.' This story is interesting,\nespecially as Mr. Lang says it is the only one he has encountered among\nsavages, of a warning conveyed to a man by a ghost as to the death of a\nfriend.[317]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[306] _Gentleman's Magazine_, 1865, pt. ii. p. 564.\n\n[307] See _Popular Irish Superstitions_, by W. R. Wilde, p. 109.\n\n[308] _More Ghost Stories_, collected and edited by W. T. Stead, 1892,\np. 22.\n\n[309] See Mrs. Crowe's _Night Side of Nature_, 1854, p. 111.\n\n[310] Wirt Sikes, _British Goblins_, p. 215.\n\n[311] _Primitive Culture_, 1891, i. p. 448.\n\n[312] _Real Ghost Stories_, W. T. Stead, p. 103.\n\n[313] Harland and Wilkinson, _Lancashire Folk-lore_, p. 105.\n\n[314] Quoted by Mrs. Crowe, _Night Side of Nature_, p. 202.\n\n[315] Messrs. Gurney, Myers, and Podmore.\n\n[316] _Phantasms of the Living_, ii. p. 531.\n\n[317] _Nineteenth Century_, April 1865, p. 629.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVII\n\nGHOSTLY TIMES AND SEASONS\n\n\nShakespeare, quoting from an early legend, has reminded us that at\nChristmastide 'no spirit dares stir abroad.' And yet, in spite of this\ntime-honoured belief, Christmas would seem to be one of the favourite\nseasons of the year for ghosts to make their presence felt in all kinds\nof odd ways. Many an old baronial hall, with its romantic associations\nand historic legends, is occasionally, as Christmastime comes round,\ndisturbed by certain uncanny sounds, which timidity is only too ready\nto invest with the most mysterious and unaccountable associations. One\nreason for this nervous credulity may be ascribed to the fact that, as\nnumerous old country seats are supposed to be haunted, Christmas is\na fitting opportunity for the ghost to catch a glimpse of the family\nrevelry and mirth. But, judging from the many legendary tales which\nhave been handed down in connection with Christmas, it would seem that\nthese spirit-members of the family intrude their presence on their\nrelatives in the flesh in various ways. In Ireland, the ill-fated\nBanshee has selected this season on more than one occasion, to warn the\nfamily of coming trouble. According to one tale told from Ireland, one\nChristmas Eve, when the family party were gathered round the festive\nboard in an old castle in the South of Ireland, the prancing of horses\nwas suddenly heard, and the sharp cracking of the driver's whip.\nImagining that one of the absent members of the family had arrived,\nsome of the young people moved to the door, but found that it was the\nweird apparition of the 'headless coach and horseman.'\n\nMany such stories might be enumerated, which, under one form or\nanother, have imparted a dramatic element to the season. With some of\nour country peasantry, there is a deep-rooted dread of encountering\nanything either bordering on, or resembling, the supernatural, as\nsometimes spirits are supposed at Christmastide to be unfriendly\ntowards mankind. In Northamptonshire, for instance, there is a strange\nnotion that the ghosts of unfortunate individuals buried at cross-roads\nhave a particular license to wander about on Christmas Eve, at which\ntime they wreak their evil designs upon defenceless and unsuspecting\npersons. But conduct of this kind seems to be the exception, and ghosts\nare oftentimes invoked at Christmastide by those anxious to have a\nforetaste of events in store for them. Thus, the anxious maiden, in her\neager desire to know something of her matrimonial prospects, has often\nsubjected herself to the most trying ordeal of 'courting a ghost.' In\nmany countries, at the 'witching hour of midnight, on Christmas Eve,'\nthe candidate for marriage goes into the garden and plucks twelve\nsage leaves, 'under a firm conviction that she will be favoured with\na glimpse of the shadowy form of her future husband as he approaches\nher from the opposite end of the garden.' But a ceremony observed in\nSweden, in years past, must have required a still more strong-minded\nperson to take advantage of its prophetic powers. It was customary\nin the morning twilight of Christmas Day, to go into a wood, without\nmaking the slightest noise, or uttering a word; total abstinence from\neating and drinking being another necessary requirement. If these rules\nwere observed, it was supposed that the individual as he went along\nthe path leading to the church, would be favoured with a sight of as\nmany funerals as would pass that way during the ensuing year. With\nthis practice may be compared one current in Denmark, where, it is\nsaid, when a family are sitting together on Christmas Eve, if anyone is\ndesirous of knowing whether a death will occur amongst them during the\nensuing year, he must go outside, and peep silently through the window,\nand the person who appears at table sitting without a head, will die\nbefore Christmas comes round again. The feast of St. Agnes was formerly\nheld in high veneration by women who wished to know when and whom\nthey should marry. It was required that on this day they should not\neat--which was called 'fasting St. Agnes' fast'--if they wished to have\nvisions of delight, a piece of superstition on which Keats has founded\nhis poem, 'The Eve of St. Agnes:'\n\n    They told me how, upon St. Agnes' Eve,\n    Young virgins might have visions of delight,\n    And soft adorings from their love receive,\n    Upon the honey'd middle of the night,\n    If ceremonies due they did aright;\n    As supperless to bed they must retire,\n    And couch supine their beauties, lily white,\n    Nor look behind, nor sideways, but require\n    Of heaven, with upward eyes, for all that they desire.\n\nLaying down on her back that night, with her hands under her head, the\nanxious maiden was led to expect that her future spouse would appear\nin a dream, and salute her with a kiss. Various charms have long been\nobserved on St. Valentine's Eve, and Poor Robin's Almanack tells us how:\n\n    On St. Mark's Eve, at twelve o'clock,\n    The fair maid will watch her smock,\n    To find her husband in the dark,\n    By praying unto good St. Mark.\n\nBut St. Mark's Eve was a great day for apparitions. Allusion has been\nmade in a previous chapter to watching in the church porch for the\nghosts of those who are to be buried in the churchyard during the\nfollowing months; and Jamieson tells us of a practice kept up in the\nnorthern counties, known as 'ash-ridlin.' The ashes being sifted, or\nriddled, on the hearth, if any one of the family 'be to die within the\nyear, the mark of the shoe, it is supposed, will be impressed on the\nashes; and many a mischievous wight has made some of the credulous\nfamily miserable, by slyly coming downstairs after the rest have\nretired to bed, and marking the ashes with the shoe of one of the\nmembers.'\n\nIn Peru it is interesting to trace a similar superstitious usage. As\nsoon as a dying man draws his last breath, ashes are strewed on the\nfloor of the room, and the door is securely fastened. Next morning\nthe ashes are carefully examined to ascertain whether they show any\nimpression of footsteps, and imagination readily traces marks, which\nare alleged to have been produced by the feet of birds, dogs, cats,\noxen, or llamas. The destiny of the dead person is construed by the\nfootmarks which are supposed to be discernible. The soul has assumed\nthe form of that animal whose tracks are found.[318]\n\nThere is St. John's, or Midsummer Eve, around which many weird and\nghostly superstitions have clustered. Grose informs us that if anyone\nsit in the church porch, he will see the spirits of those destined to\ndie that year come and knock at the church door in the order of their\ndecease. In Ireland there is a popular belief that on St. John's Eve\nthe souls of all persons leave their bodies, and wander to the place,\nby land or sea, where death shall finally separate them from the\ntenement of the clay. The same notion of a temporary liberation of the\nsoul gave rise to a host of superstitious observances at this time,\nresembling those connected with Hallow Eve. Indeed, this latter night\nis supposed to be the time of all others when supernatural influences\nprevail. 'It is the night,' we are told, 'set apart for a universal\nwalking abroad of spirits, both of the visible and invisible world; for\none of the special characteristics attributed to this mystic evening is\nthe faculty conferred on the immaterial principle in humanity to detach\nitself from its corporeal tenement and wander abroad through the realms\nof space. Divination is then believed to attain its highest power,\nand the gift asserted by Glendower of calling spirits \"from the vast\ndeep\" becomes available to all who choose to avail themselves of the\nprivileges of the occasion.'[319] Similarly, in Germany on St. Andrew's\nEve, young women try various charms in the hope of seeing the shadow of\ntheir sweethearts; one of the rhymes used on the occasion being this:\n\n    St. Andrew's Eve is to-day;\n    Sleep all people,\n    Sleep all children of men\n    Who are between heaven and earth,\n    Except this only man,\n    Who may be mine in marriage.\n\nThe story goes that a girl once summoned the shadow of her future\nhusband. Precisely as the clock struck twelve he appeared, drank some\nwine, laid a three-edged dagger on the table and vanished. The girl\nput the dagger into her trunk. Some years afterwards there came a man\nfrom a distant part to the town where the girl dwelt, bought property\nthere, and married her. He was, in fact, the identical person whose\nform had appeared to her. Some time after their marriage the husband by\nchance opened the trunk, and there found the dagger, at the sight of\nwhich he became furious. 'Thou art the girl,' said he, 'who years ago\nforced me to come hither from afar in the night, and it was no dream.\nDie, therefore!' and with these words he thrust the dagger into her\nheart.[320]\n\nIt may be added, that by general consent night-time is the season when\nspirits wander abroad. The appearance of morning is the signal for\ntheir dispersion.\n\n    The flocking shadows pale,\n    Troop to the infernal jail;\n    Each fettered ghost slips to his several grave,\n    And the yellow skirted fays,\n    Fly after the night-steeds, leaving their noon-loved maze.\n\nThe ghost of Hamlet's father says, 'Methinks I scent the morning air,'\nand adds:\n\n                     'Fare thee well at once!\n    The glow-worm shows the matins to be near.'\n\nAccording to a popular notion formerly current, the presence of\nunearthly beings was announced by an alteration in the tints of the\nlights which happened to be burning--a superstition alluded to in\n'Richard III.' (Act v. sc. 3)--where the tyrant exclaims as he awakens:\n\n    'The lights burn blue. It is now dead midnight,\n    Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh.\n\n           *       *       *       *       *\n\n    Methought the souls of all that I had murder'd\n    Came to my tent.'\n\nSo in 'Julius C\u00e6sar' (Act iv. sc. 3), Brutus, on seeing the ghost of\nC\u00e6sar, exclaims:\n\n    'How ill this taper burns. Ha! who comes here?'\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[318] Dorman's _Primitive Superstitions_, p. 48.\n\n[319] See _Book of Days_, ii. pp. 519-521.\n\n[320] See Thorpe's _Northern Mythology_, iii. p. 144.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVIII\n\nSPIRIT-HAUNTED TREES\n\n\nAccording to Empedocles 'there are two destinies for the souls of\nhighest virtue--to pass into trees or into the bodies of lions,'\nthis conception of plants as the habitation of the departing soul\nbeing founded on the old idea of transmigration. Illustrations of the\nprimitive belief meet us in all ages, reminding us how Dante passed\nthrough that leafless wood, in the bark of every tree of which was\nconfined a suicide; and of Ariel's imprisonment:\n\n    Into a cloven pine, within which rift\n    Imprison'd, thou didst painfully remain\n    A dozen years....\n    ... Where thou didst vent thy groans,\n    As fast as mill-wheels strike.\n\nIn German folk-lore the soul is supposed occasionally to take the form\nof a flower, as a lily or white rose; and, according to a popular\nbelief, one of these flowers appears on the chairs of those about to\ndie. Grimm[321] tells a pretty tale of a child who 'carries home a bud\nwhich the angel had given him in the wood; when the rose blooms the\nchild is dead.' Similarly, from the grave of one unjustly executed\nwhite lilies are said to spring as a token of the person's innocence,\nand from that of a maiden three lilies, which no one save her lover\nmust gather, a superstition which, under one form or another, has\nlargely prevailed both amongst civilised and savage communities. In\nIceland it is said that when innocent persons are put to death, the\nsorb or mountain ash will spring over their grave, and the Lay of\nRunzifal makes a blackthorn shoot out of the bodies of slain heathens,\nand a white flower by the heads of fallen Christians. The well-known\nstory of 'Tristram and Ysonde' tells how 'from his grave there grew an\neglantine which twined about the statue, a marvel for all men to see;\nand though three times they cut it down, it grew again, and ever wound\nits arms about the image of the fair Ysonde.' With which legend may be\ncompared the old Scottish ballad of 'Fair Margaret and Sweet William':\n\n    Out of her breast there sprang a rose,\n    And out of his a briar;\n    They grew till they grew to the church top,\n    And there they tied in a true lover's knot.\n\nIt is to this time-honoured fancy that Laertes refers when he wishes\nthat violets may spring from the grave of Ophelia,[322] and Lord\nTennyson has borrowed the same idea:\n\n    And from his ashes may be made,\n    The violet of his native land.[323]\n\nSome of the North-Western Indians believed that those who died a\nnatural death would be compelled to dwell among the branches of\ntall trees, and the Brazilians have a mythological character called\nMani[324]--a child who died and was buried in the house of her mother.\nSoon a plant--the Mandioca--sprang out of the grave, which grew,\nflourished, and bore fruit. According to the Iroquois, the spirits of\ncertain trees are supposed to have the forms of beautiful females;\nrecalling, writes Mr. Herbert Spencer,[325] 'the dryads of classic\nmythology, who, similarly conceived as human-shaped female spirits,\nwere sacrificed to in the same ways that human spirits in general were\nsacrificed to.' 'By the Santals,' he adds, 'these spirits or ghosts are\nindividualised. At their festivals the separate families dance round\nthe particular trees which they fancy their domestic lares chiefly\nhaunt.'\n\nIn modern Greece certain trees are supposed to have their 'stichios,'\na being variously described as a spectre, a wandering soul, a vague\nphantom, occasionally invisible, and sometimes assuming the most widely\ndifferent forms. When a tree is 'stichimonious,' it is generally\nconsidered dangerous for anyone 'to sleep beneath its shade, and the\nwoodcutters employed to cut it down will lie upon the ground and hide\nthemselves, motionless, and holding their breath, at the moment when it\nis about to fall, dreading lest the stichio at whose life the blow is\naimed with each blow of the axe, should avenge itself at the precise\nmoment when it is dislodged.'[326] This idea is abundantly illustrated\nin European folk-lore, and a Swedish legend tells how, when a man was\non the point of cutting down a juniper tree, a voice was heard saying,\n'Friend, hew me not.' But he gave another blow, when, to his horror and\namazement, blood gushed from the root.\n\nSuch spirit-haunted trees have been supposed to give proof of their\npeculiar character by certain weird and mysterious signs. Thus the\nAustralian bush-demons whistle in the branches, and Mr. Schoolcraft\nmentions an Indian tradition of a hollow tree, from the recesses of\nwhich there issued on a calm day a sound like the voice of a spirit.\nHence it was considered to be inhabited by some powerful spirit, and\nwas deemed sacred. The holes in trees have been supposed to be the\ndoors through which the spirits pass, a belief which reappears in the\nGerman idea that the holes in the oak are the pathways for elves, and\nthat various diseases may be cured by contact with these holes. It is\nnot surprising, too, that the idea of spirit-haunted trees caused them\nto be regarded by the superstitious with feelings of awe. Mr. Dorman\ntells us[327] of certain West Indian tribes, that if any person going\nthrough a wood perceived a motion in the trees which he regarded as\nsupernatural, frightened at the strange prodigy, he would address\nhimself to that tree which shook the most. Similarly, when the wind\nblows the long grass or waving corn, the German peasant is wont to say\nthat the 'Grass-wolf,' or the 'Corn-wolf' is abroad. Under a variety\nof forms this animistic conception is found in different parts of the\nworld, and has been embodied in many a folk-tale--an Austrian M\u00e4rchen\nrelating, for instance, how there sits in a stately fir-tree a fairy\nmaiden waited on by a dwarf, rewarding the innocent and plaguing the\nguilty; and there is the German song of the maiden in the pine, whose\nbark the boy split with a gold and silver horn.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[321] _Teutonic Mythology_, ii. p. 827.\n\n[322] _Hamlet_, Act v. sc. 1.\n\n[323] See _Folk-lore of Plants_, pp. 12, 13.\n\n[324] Dorman's _Primitive Superstitions_, p. 293.\n\n[325] _Principles of Sociology_, 1885, pp. 357-359.\n\n[326] _Nineteenth Century_, April, 1882, p. 394; _Superstitions of\nModern Greece_, by M. Le Baron d'Estournelles.\n\n[327] _Primitive Superstitions_, p. 288.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIX\n\nGHOSTS AND HIDDEN TREASURES\n\n\nThe presence of troubled phantoms in certain localities has long been\nattributed to their being interested in the whereabouts of certain\nsecreted treasures, the disposal of which to the rightful owner having\nbeen frustrated through death having prematurely summoned them from\ntheir mortal existence. Traditions of the existence of large sums of\nhidden money are associated with many of our own country mansions.\nSuch a legend was long connected with Hulme Castle, formerly a seat\nof a branch of the Prestwich family. The hoard was generally supposed\nto have been hidden either in the hall itself or in the grounds\nadjoining, and was said to be protected by spells and incantations.\nMany years ago the hall was pulled down, but, although considerable\ncare was taken to search every spot, no money was discovered. Secreted\ntreasure is associated with the apparition of Madame Beswick, who used\nto haunt Birchen Tower, Hollinwood;[328] and an eccentric spectre\nknown as 'Silky,' which used to play all kinds of strange pranks in\nthe village of Black Heddon, Northumberland, was commonly supposed to\nbe the troubled phantom of a certain lady who had died before having\nan opportunity of disclosing the whereabouts of some hoarded money.\nWith the discovery of the gold, this unhappy spirit is said to have\ndisappeared. The story goes that one day, in a house at Black Heddon,\na terrific noise was heard, which caused the servant to exclaim, 'The\ndeevil's in the house! the deevil's in the house! He's come through the\nceiling!' But on the room being examined where the noise occurred, a\ngreat dog's skin was found on the floor, filled with gold, after which\ntime 'Silky' was neither seen nor heard.\n\nEqually strange is the legend related of Swinsty Hall, which tells how\nits original founder was a poor weaver, who travelled to London at a\ntime when the plague was raging, and finding many houses desolate and\nuninhabited, took possession of the money left without an owner, to\nsuch an extent that he loaded a waggon with the wealth thus acquired,\nand, returning to his home, he built Swinsty Hall. But he cannot\ncleanse himself from the contamination of the ill-acquired gold, and at\ntimes, it is said, his unquiet spirit has been seen bending over the\nGreenwell Spring rubbing away at his ghastly spoil. Mr. Henderson[329]\ngives the history of an apparition which, with retributive justice,\nonce haunted a certain Yorkshire farmer. An old woman of Sexhow, near\nStokesley, appeared after her death to a farmer of the place, and\ninformed him that beneath a certain tree in his apple orchard he would\nfind a hoard of gold and silver which she had buried there; the silver\nhe was to keep for his trouble, but the gold he was to give to a niece\nof hers living in great poverty. The farmer went to the spot indicated,\nfound the money, and kept it all to himself. But from that day his\nconscience gave him no rest, and every night, at home or abroad, old\nNanny's ghost dogged his steps. At last one evening the neighbours\nheard him returning from Stokesley market very late; his horse was\ngalloping furiously, and as he passed a neighbour's house, its inmates\nheard him screaming out, 'I will, I will, I will!' and looking out they\nsaw a little old woman in black, with a large straw hat on her head,\nclinging to him. The farmer's hat was off, his hair stood on end, as\nhe fled past them uttering his fearful cry, 'I will, I will, I will!'\nBut when the horse reached the farm all was still, for the rider was a\ncorpse.\n\nTradition asserts that the 'white lady' who long haunted Blenkinsopp\nCastle, is the ghost of the wife of Bryan de Blenkinsopp, who\nquarrelled with her husband, and in a fit of spite she concealed a\nchest of gold that took twelve of the strongest men to carry into the\ncastle. Filled with remorse for her undutiful conduct, the unhappy\nwoman cannot rest in her grave, but her spirit is doomed to wander back\nto the old castle, and to mourn over the accursed wealth of which its\nrightful owner was defrauded.\n\nAn old farm, popularly known in the neighbourhood as 'Sykes' Lumb\nFarm,' from having been inhabited for many generations by a family of\nthe name of Sykes, was long haunted by an old wrinkled woman who, one\nnight, being interrogated by an occupier of the farm as to the cause of\nher wandering about, made no reply, but proceeding towards the stump of\nan old apple tree in the orchard, pointed significantly to the ground\nbeneath. On search being made, there was found buried deep in the earth\na jar of money, on the discovery of which the phantom vanished.\n\nAnecdotes of treasures concealed at the bottom of wells are of frequent\noccurrence, and the 'white ladies' who dwell in the lakes, wells, and\nseas of so many countries, are owners of vast treasures, which they\noccasionally offer to mortals. Tradition says that in a pool known as\nWimbell Pond at Acton, Suffolk, is concealed an iron chest of money,\nand if any person approach the pond and throw a stone into the water,\nit will ring against the chest--a small white figure having been heard\nto cry in accents of distress, 'That's mine.'[330]\n\nScotland has many such stories. It is popularly believed that for many\nages past a pot of gold has lain at the bottom of a pool beneath a\nfall of the rivulet underneath Craufurdland Bridge, about three miles\nfrom Kilmarnock. Many attempts have been made to recover this treasure,\nbut something unforeseen has always happened to prevent a successful\nissue. 'The last effort made, by the Laird of Craufurdland himself,'\nwrites Mr. Chambers,[331] 'was early in the last century, at the head\nof a party of his domestics, who first dammed up the water, then\nemptied the pool of its contents, and had heard their instruments clink\non the kettle, when a voice was heard saying:\n\n    Pow, pow!\n    Craufurdland tower's a' in a low!\n\nWhereupon the laird left the scene, followed by his servants, and ran\nhome to save what he could. Of course, there was no fire in the house,\nand when they came back to renew their operations, they found the\nwater falling over the lin in full force. Being now convinced that a\npower above that of mortals was opposed to their researches, the laird\nand his people gave up the attempt. Such is the traditionary story,\nwhether,' adds Mr. Chambers, 'founded on any actual occurrence, or\na mere fiction of the peasants' brain, cannot be ascertained; but it\nis curious that a later and well authenticated effort to recover the\ntreasure was interrupted by a natural occurrence in some respects\nsimilar.'\n\nVast treasures are said to be concealed beneath the ruins of Hermitage\nCastle, but, as they are in the keeping of the Evil One, they are\nconsidered beyond redemption. Venturesome persons have occasionally\nmade the attempt to dig for them, but a storm of thunder and lightning\nhas generally deterred the adventurers from proceeding, otherwise,\nof course, the money would have long ago been found. It is ever, we\nare told, that such supernatural obstacles come in the way of these\ninteresting discoveries. Mr. Chambers relates how 'an honest man in\nPerthshire, named Finlay Robertson, about a hundred years ago, went\nwith some stout-hearted companions to seek for the treasures which were\nsupposed to be concealed in the darksome cave of a deceased Highland\nrobber, but just as they had commenced operations with their mattocks,\nthe whole party were instantaneously struck, as by an electric shock,\nwhich sent them home with fear and trembling, and they were ever after\nremarked as silent, mysterious men, very apt to take offence when\nallusion was made to their unsuccessful enterprise.'[332]\n\nIn Scotland and the North of England, the Brownie was regarded as a\nguardian of hidden treasure, and 'to him did the Borderers commit\ntheir money or goods, when, according to the custom prevalent in wild\ninsecure countries, they concealed them in the earth.' Some form of\nincantation was practised on the occasion, such as the dropping upon\nthe treasure the blood of a slaughtered animal, or burying the slain\nanimal with it.[333]\n\nAccording to the Welsh belief, if a person die while any hoarded\nmoney--or, indeed, metal of any kind, were it nothing more than old\niron--is still secretly hidden, the spirit of that person cannot rest.\nOthers affirm that it is only ill-gotten treasure which creates this\ndisturbance of the grave's repose; but it is generally agreed that the\nsoul's unquiet condition can only be relieved by finding a human hand\nto take the hidden metal, and throw it down the stream of a river.\nTo throw it up a stream is useless. The spirit 'selects a particular\nperson as the subject of its attentions, and haunts that person till\nasked what it wants.' A story is told of a tailor's wife at Llantwit\nMajor, a stout and jolly dame, who was thus haunted until she was worn\nto the semblance of a skeleton, 'for not choosing to take a hoard\nhonestly to the Ogmore'--the favourite river in Glamorganshire for this\npurpose. To quote her own words, 'I at last consented, for the sake\nof quiet, to take the treasure to the river, and the spirit wafted\nme through the air so high that I saw below me the church loft and\nall the houses, as if I had leaned out of a balloon. When I took the\ntreasure to throw it into the river, in my flurry I flung it up stream\ninstead of down, and on this the spirit, with a savage look, tossed me\ninto a whirlwind, and how ever I got back to my home I know not.' The\nbell-ringers found her lying insensible in the Church lane, on their\nreturn from church, late in the evening.[334]\n\nNo piece of folk-lore is more general in Ireland than that gold or\nsilver may be found under nearly all the raths, cairns, or old castles\nthroughout the island. It is always a difficult task to exhume such\nburied treasure, for some preternatural guardian or other will be\nfound on the alert. These buried treasures are usually deposited in\n'a crock,' but whenever an attempt is made to lift it, some awful\ngorgon, or monster, appears. Sometimes a rushing wind sweeps over the\nplain, or from the opening made, with destructive force, carrying away\nthe gold-seeker's hat or spade, or even, in various instances, the\nadventurer himself, who is deposited with broken bones, or a paralysed\nframe, at a respectful distance from the object of his quest. 'On\nthe banks of a northern river, and near a small eminence,' writes a\ncorrespondent of the 'Gentleman's Magazine,'[335] 'is a beautiful green\nplot, on which two large, moss-covered stones over six hundred feet\napart are shown. It is said two immense \"crocks\" of gold lie buried\nunder these conspicuous landmarks, and that various attempts have been\nmade to dig round and beneath them. In all those instances when a\npersistent effort has been made, a monk appeared in full habit, with a\ncross in his hand to warn off sacrilegious offenders.'\n\nSimilar legends are found in different parts of the world. 'The Isle of\nYellow Sands,' says Mr. Dorman,[336] 'derives its chief interest from\nthe traditions and fanciful tales which the Indians relate concerning\nits mineral treasures and their supernatural guardians. They pretend\nthat its shores are covered with a heavy, shining, yellow sand, which\nthey are persuaded is gold, but that the guardian spirit of the island\nwill not permit any to be carried away. To enforce his commands, he has\ndrawn together upon it myriads of eagles, hawks, and other birds of\nprey, who, by their cries warn him of any intrusions upon the domain,\nand assist with their claws and beaks to expel the enemy. He has also\ncalled from the depths of the lake, large serpents of the most hideous\nforms, who lie thickly coiled upon the golden sands, and hiss defiance\nto the steps of the intruder. A great many years ago, they say, some\npeople driven by stress of weather upon the island, put a large\nquantity of the glittering treasure in their canoes and attempted to\ncarry it off; but a gigantic spirit strode into the water and in a tone\nof thunder commanded them to bring it back'--\n\n    Listen, white man, go not there!\n    Unseen spirits stalk the air;\n    Ravenous birds their influence lend,\n    Snakes defy, and kites defend....\n    Touch not, then, the guarded lands,\n    Of the Isle of Yellow Sands.\n\nThe 'Ceylon Times' records a remarkable instance of superstition among\nthe Tamul population employed as labourers on a coffee estate. 'It is\nthe belief of all Orientals,' says the writer, 'that hidden treasures\nare under the guardianship of supernatural beings. The Singhalese,\nhowever, divide the charge between demons and cobra da capellos.\nVarious charms are resorted to by those who wish to gain the treasures,\nthe demons requiring a sacrifice. Blood of a human being is the most\nimportant, but, as far as it is known, the Cappowas have hitherto\nconfined themselves to the sacrifice of a white cock, combining its\nblood with their own, drawn by a slight puncture in the hand or foot.'\n\nMany curious stories are on record of persons having been informed by\nghosts of the whereabouts of hidden money, and of their having been\ndirected to the spot where the hoarded treasure has lain for years\nsecreted in its undetected recess.\n\nIn the 'Antiquarian Repertory' is a singular narrative of a man named\nRichard Clarke, a farm-labourer at Hamington, Northamptonshire, who was\nhaunted by the ghost of a man who declared that he had been murdered\nnear his own house 267 years, 9 months, and 2 days ago, and buried\nin an orchard. He added that his wife and children, who had lived in\nSouthwark, never knew what became of him; that he had some treasures\nand papers buried in the cellar of a house near London, and that he\n(Clarke) must seek for it, and that he (the ghost) would meet him in\nthe cellar, to assist him in the search. The ghost added that as soon\nas the money and the writings were found, and duly delivered to certain\nrelatives of his in Southwark, at such an address, removed from him in\nthe fourth generation, he would cease to visit him, and would leave him\nin peace. Clarke went to town, and on London Bridge the ghost passed\nhim, and conducted him to the house, where his wife had lived four\ngenerations before. Clarke found everything answering the description\nwhich the ghost had given him; the money and the documents were\ndiscovered, the writings on vellum found, but those on paper decayed.\nClarke divided the money, and acted as the ghost of the murdered man\ndirected him to do; and the latter 'lookt chearfully upon him, and gave\nhim thankes, and said now he should be at rest, and spoke to those\nother persons which were of his generation, relations, but they had not\ncourage to answer, but Clarke talkt for them.'\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[328] See Ingram's _Haunted Homes_, 2nd S. pp. 24, 25.\n\n[329] _Folk-lore of Northern Counties_, p. 322.\n\n[330] _Notes and Queries_, 1st S. v. p. 195.\n\n[331] _Popular Rhymes of Scotland_, pp. 241-242.\n\n[332] _Popular Rhymes of Scotland_, p. 240.\n\n[333] Henderson's _Folk-lore of Northern Counties_, pp. 247-248.\n\n[334] Wirt Sikes: _British Goblins_, pp. 151-152.\n\n[335] 1865, pt. ii. pp. 706-707.\n\n[336] _Primitive Superstitions_, p. 310.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXX\n\nPHANTOM MUSIC\n\n\nMany of those weird melodious sounds which romance and legendary lore\nhave connected with the enchanted strains of invisible music have\noriginated in the moaning of the winds, and the rhythmical flow of\nthe waves. In several of their operatic works, our dramatic composers\nhave skilfully introduced the music of the fairies and of other aerial\nconceptions of the fancy, reminding us of those harmonious sounds which\nCaliban depicts in the 'Tempest' (Act iii. sc. 2):\n\n                            The isle is full of noises,\n    Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not;\n    Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments,\n    Will hum about mine ears, and sometimes voices\n    That, if I then had waked after long sleep,\n    Will make me sleep again.\n\nMost countries have their stories and traditions of mysterious music\nwhich, in many cases, has been associated with certain supernatural\nproperties. Under one form or another, the belief in phantom music\nhas extensively prevailed throughout Europe, and in many parts of\nEngland it is still supposed to be heard, occasionally as a presage\nof death. It has been generally supposed that music is the favourite\nrecreation of the spirits that haunt mountains, rivers, and all kinds\nof lonely places. The Indians would not venture near Manitobah Island,\ntheir superstitious fears being due to the weird sounds produced by\nthe waves as they beat upon the beach at the foot of the cliffs,\nnear its northern extremity. During the night, when a gentle breeze\nwas blowing from the north, the various sounds heard on the island\nwere quite sufficient to strike awe into their minds. These sounds\nfrequently resembled the ringing of distant bells; so close, indeed,\nwas the resemblance that travellers would awake during the night with\nthe impression that they were listening to chimes. When the breeze\nsubsided, and the waves played gently on the beach, a low wailing\nsound would be heard three hundred yards from the cliffs.[337]\n\nSometimes music is heard at sea, and it is believed in Ireland that\nwhen a friend or relative dies, a warning voice is discernible.\nThe following is a rough translation of an Irish song founded on\nthis superstition, which is generally sung to a singularly wild and\nmelancholy air:\n\n    A low sound of song from the distance I hear,\n    In the silence of night, breathing sad on my ear.\n    Whence comes it? I know not--unearthly the note,\n    And unearthly the tones through the air as they float;\n    Yet it sounds like the lay that my mother once sung,\n    And o'er her firstborn in his cradle she hung.\n\nWhen ships go down at sea, it is said the death-bell is at times\ndistinctly heard, a superstition to which Sir Walter Scott alludes:\n\n    And the kelpie rang,\n    And the sea-maid sang,\n    The dirge of lovely Rosabelle.\n\nAt the present day, indeed, all kinds of phantom musical sounds are\nbelieved to float through the air--sounds which the peasantry, in days\npast, attributed to the fairies.\n\nThe American Indians have a similar piece of legendary lore. Gayarre,\nin his 'Louisiana,' says that mysterious music floats on the waters\nof the river Pascagoula, 'particularly on a calm moonlight night. It\nseems to issue from caverns or grottoes in the bed of the river, and\nsometimes oozes up through the water under the very keel of the boat\nwhich contains the traveller, whose ear it strikes as the distant\nconcert of a thousand \u00c6olian harps. On the banks of the river, close by\nthe spot where the music is heard, tradition says that there existed\na tribe different from the rest of the Indians. Every night when the\nmoon was visible, they gathered round the beautifully carved figure\nof a mermaid, and, with instruments of strange shape, worshipped the\nidol with such soul-stirring music as had never before blessed human\nears. One day a priest came among them and tried to convert them from\nthe worship of the mermaid. But on a certain night, at midnight, there\ncame a rushing on the surface of the river, and the water seemed to be\nseized with a convulsive fury. The Indians and the priest rushed to\nthe bank of the river to contemplate the supernatural spectacle. When\nshe saw them, the mermaid turned her tones into still more bewitching\nmelody, and kept chanting a sort of mystic song. The Indians listened\nwith growing ecstasy, and one of them plunged into the river to rise no\nmore. The rest--men, women, and children--followed in quick succession,\nmoved, as it were, with the same irresistible impulse. When the last of\nthe race disappeared, the river returned to its bed. Ever since that\ntime is heard occasionally the distant music, which the Indians say is\ncaused by their musical brethren, who still keep up their revels at the\nbottom of the river, in the palace of the mermaid.'\n\nIt was a popular belief in years gone by, that it was dangerous to\nlisten long to the weirdly fascinating influence of phantom music,\nor, as it was sometimes called, 'diabolic music,' as it was employed\nby evil-disposed spirits for the purpose of accomplishing some wicked\ndesign. Tradition tells how certain weird music was long since heard in\nan old mansion in Schleswig Holstein. The story goes that at a wedding\nthere was a certain young lady present, who was the most enthusiastic\ndancer far and near, and who, in spite of having danced all the\nevening, petulantly exclaimed, 'If the devil himself were to call me\nout, I would not refuse him.' Suddenly the door of the ball-room flew\nopen, and a stranger entered and invited her to dance. Round and round\nthey whirled unceasingly, faster and faster, until, to the horror of\nall present, she fell down dead. Every year afterwards, on the same\nday as this tragic event happened, exactly at midnight, the mansion\nlong resounded with diabolic music, the lady haunting the scene of\nher fearful death. There are numerous versions of this story, and one\ncurrent in Denmark is known as 'The Indefatigable Fiddler.' It appears\nthat on a certain Sunday evening, some young people were merrymaking,\nwhen it was decided to have a little dancing. In the midst of an\nanimated discussion as to how they could procure a musician, one of\nthe party boastingly said, 'Now, that leave to me. I will bring you\na musician, even if it should be the devil himself.' Thereupon he\nleft the house, and had not gone far when he met a poverty-looking\nman with a fiddle under his arm, who, for a certain sum, agreed to\nplay. Soon the young people, spellbound by the fiddler's music, were\nfrantically dancing up and down the room unable to stop, and in spite\nof their entreaties he continued playing. They must have soon died\nof exhaustion, had not the parish priest arrived at the farmhouse,\nand expelled the fiddler by certain mystic words. Sometimes, it is\nsaid, the sound of music, such as harp-playing, is heard in the most\nsequestered spots, and is attributed to supernatural agency. The Welsh\npeasantry thought it proceeded from the fairies, who were supposed\nto be specially fond of this instrument; but such music had this\npeculiarity--no one could ever learn the tune.\n\nCortachy Castle, the seat of the Earl of Airlie, has long had its\nmysterious drummer; and whenever the sound of his drum is heard, it\nbetokens the speedy death of a member of the Ogilvie family. The\nstory goes that 'either the drummer, or some officer whose emissary\nhe was, had excited the jealousy of a former Lord Airlie, and that\nin consequence he was put to death by being thrust into his own drum\nand flung from the window of the tower, in which is situated the\nchamber where his music is apparently chiefly heard. It is said that\nhe threatened to haunt the family if his life were taken,' a promise\nwhich he has fulfilled.[338] With this strange warning may be compared\nthe amusing story popularly known as 'The Drummer of Tedworth,' in\nwhich the ghost or evil spirit of a drummer, or the ghost of a drum,\nperformed the principal part in this mysterious drama for 'two entire\nyears.' The story, as succinctly given by George Cruikshank,[339] goes\nthat in March 1661, Mr. Monpesson, a magistrate, caused a vagrant\ndrummer to be arrested, who had been annoying the country by noisy\ndemands for charity, and had ordered his drum to be taken from him, and\nleft in the bailiff's house. About the middle of the following April,\nwhen Mr. Monpesson was preparing for a journey to London, the bailiff\nsent the drum to his house. But on his return home, he was informed\nthat noises had been heard, and then he heard the noises himself,\nwhich were a 'thumping and drumming,' accompanied by 'a strange noise\nand hollow sound.' The sign of it when it came was like a hurling in\nthe air over the house, and at its going off, the beating of a drum,\nlike that of the 'breaking up of a guard.' After a month's disturbance\noutside the house, it came into the room where the drum lay. For an\nhour together it would beat 'Roundheads and Cockolds,' the 'tattoo,'\nand several other points of war as well as any drummer. Upon one\noccasion, when many were present, a gentleman said, 'Satan, if the\ndrummer set thee to work, give three knocks,' which it did at once. And\nfor further trial, he bid it for confirmation, if it were the drummer,\nto give five knocks and no more that night, which it did, and left the\nhouse quiet all the night after. 'But,' as George Cruikshank observes,\n'strange as it certainly was, is it not still more strange that\neducated gentlemen, and even clergymen, as in this case, also should\nbelieve that the Almighty would suffer an evil spirit to disturb and\naffright a whole innocent family, because the head of that family had,\nin his capacity as magistrate, thought it his duty to take away a drum\nfrom no doubt a drunken drummer, who, by his noisy conduct, had become\na nuisance to the neighbourhood?'\n\nIn many parts of the country, phantom bells are supposed to be heard\nringing their ghostly peals. Near Blackpool, about two miles out\nat sea, there once stood, tradition says, the church and cemetery\nof Kilmigrol, long ago submerged. Even now, in rough weather, the\nmelancholy chimes of the bells may be heard sounding over the restless\nwaters. A similar story is told of Jersey. According to a local legend,\nmany years ago, 'the twelve parish churches in that island possessed\neach a valuable peal of bells, but during a long civil war the bells\nwere sold to defray the expenses of the troops. The bells were sent to\nFrance, but on the passage the ship foundered, and everything was lost.\nSince then, during a storm, these bells always ring at sea, and to\nthis day the fishermen of St. Ouen's Bay, before embarking, go to the\nedge of the water to listen if they can hear the bells; if so, nothing\nwill induce them to leave the shore.' With this story may be compared\none told of Whitby Abbey, which was suppressed in 1539. The bells were\nsold, and placed on board to be conveyed to London. But, as soon as\nthe vessel had moved out into the bay it sank, and beneath the waters\nthe bells may occasionally be heard, a legend which has been thus\npoetically described:\n\n    Up from the heart of the ocean\n      The mellow music peals,\n    Where the sunlight makes its golden path,\n      And the seamew flits and wheels.\n\n    For many a chequered century,\n      Untired by flying time,\n    The bells no human fingers touch\n      Have rung their hidden chime.\n\nTo this day the tower of Forrabury Church, Cornwall, or, as it has been\ncalled by Mr. Hawker, 'the silent tower of Bottreaux,' remains without\nbells. It appears the bells were cast and shipped for Forrabury, but as\nthe ship neared the shore, the captain swore and used profane language,\nwhereupon the vessel sank beneath a sudden swell of the ocean. As it\nwent down, the bells were heard tolling with a muffled peal; and ever\nsince, when storms are at hand, their phantom sound is still audible\nfrom beneath the waves:\n\n    Still when the storm of Bottreaux's waves\n    Is waking in his weedy caves,\n    Those bells that sullen surges hide,\n    Peal their deep tones beneath the tide--\n    'Come to thy God in time,'\n    Thus saith the ocean chime;\n    'Storm, whirlpool, billow past,\n    Come to thy God at last.'\n\nLegends of this kind remind us of Southey's ballad of the 'Inchcape\nBell,' founded on a tragic legend. The abbots of Aberbrothock\n(Arbroath) fixed a bell on a rock, as a kindly warning to sailors, that\nobstruction having long been considered the chief difficulty in the\nnavigation of the Firth of Forth. The bell was so fastened as to be\nrung by the agitation of the waves, but one day, Sir Ralph the Rover\n'cut the bell from the Inchcape float,' and down sank the bell with a\ngurgling sound. Afterwards,\n\n    Sir Ralph the Rover sailed away,\n    He scoured the sea for many a day,\n    And now grown rich with plundered store,\n    He steers his course for Scotland's shore.\n\nBut the night is dark and hazy, and--\n\n    They hear no sound, the swell is strong,\n    Though the wind hath fallen they drift along,\n    Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock.\n    'O Christ! It is the Inchcape rock!'\n\nBut it is too late--the ship is doomed:\n\n    Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair;\n    He cursed himself in his despair.\n    The waves rush in on every side;\n    The ship is sinking beneath the tide.\n\n    But even in his dying fear\n    One dreadful sound could the rover hear,\n    A sound as if with the Inchcape bell,\n    The devil below was ringing his knell.\n\nIndeed, there are all kinds of whimsical stories current of phantom\nbells, and according to a tradition at Tunstall, in Norfolk, the parson\nand churchwardens disputed for the possession of some bells which\nhad become useless because the tower was burnt. But, during their\naltercation, the arch-fiend quickly travelled off with the bells,\nand being pursued by the parson, who began to exorcise in Latin,\nhe dived into the earth with his ponderous burden, and the place\nwhere he disappeared is a boggy pool of water, called 'Hell Hole.'\nNotwithstanding the aversion of the powers of darkness to such sounds,\neven these bells are occasionally permitted to favour their native\nplace with a ghostly peal. Similarly, at Fisherty Brow, near Lonsdale,\nthere is a sort of hollow where, as the legend runs, a church, parson,\nand congregation were swallowed up. On a Sunday morning the bells\nmay be heard ringing a phantom peal by anyone who puts his ear to the\nground.\n\nOccasionally, it is said, phantom music, by way of warning, is heard\njust before a death, instances of which are numerous.\n\nSamuel Foote, in the year 1740, while visiting at his father's house in\nTruro, was kept awake by sounds of sweet music. His uncle was at about\nthe same time murdered by assassins. This strange occurrence is thus\ntold by Mr. Ingram.[340] Foote's maternal uncles were Sir John Goodere\nand Captain Goodere, a naval officer. In 1740 the two brothers dined\nat a friend's house near Bristol. For a long time they had been on bad\nterms, owing to certain money transactions, but at the dinner-table a\nreconciliation was, to all appearance, arrived at between them. But, on\nhis return home, Sir John was waylaid by some men from his brother's\nvessel, acting by his brother's authority, carried on board, and\ndeliberately strangled, Captain Goodere not only unconcernedly looking\non, but furnishing the rope with which the crime was committed. The\nstrangest part of this terrible tale, however, remains to be told. On\nthe night the murder was perpetrated, Foote arrived at his father's\nhouse in Truro, and he used to relate how he was kept awake for some\ntime by the softest and sweetest strains of music he had ever heard. At\nfirst he tried to fancy it was a serenade got up by some of the family\nto welcome him home, but not being able to discover any trace of the\nmusicians, he came to the conclusion that he was deceived by his own\nimagination. He shortly afterwards learnt that the murder had been\nconsummated at the same hour of the same night as he had been haunted\nby the mysterious sounds.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[337] Dorman's _Primitive Superstitions_, p. 309.\n\n[338] See Ingram's _Haunted Homes_, p. 53.\n\n[339] _A Discovery Concerning Ghosts_, 1864, pp. 18, 19.\n\n[340] _Haunted Homes_, p. 253.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXI\n\nPHANTOM SOUNDS\n\n\nThe deceptiveness of sound in olden times was very little understood,\nand hence originated, in most countries, a host of traditionary tales\ndescriptive of sundry mysterious noises which were generally attributed\nto supernatural agencies. Hence, it is impossible to say how many a\nghost story would long ago have found a satisfactory solution if only\nattention had been paid to the properties of sound. But by disregarding\nthe laws which regulate the conditions upon which sound is oftentimes\nmore or less audible, the imagination has frequently conjured up\nthe most fantastic reasons for some mysterious rumbling which has\nsuddenly trespassed on the silence of the night. Thus, Dr. Tyndall\nhas proved how the atmosphere is occasionally in an unusual degree\nmore transparent or opaque to sound as well as to light, and supported\nthis theory by referring to the audibility of fog-signals, which\nvary according to the state of the weather. Facts of this kind are of\nthe utmost importance in accounting, it may be, for some apparently\ninexplicable sound. It is sometimes forgotten, too, that sounds are\nfar more audible at night time than during the day, and what would\nfail to attract notice, even if heard during the hours of sunlight,\nwould probably be treated in a different aspect when once the darkness\nof evening had set in. There is perhaps no superstition so deeply\nrooted in the popular mind as the belief in what are generally termed\n'death-warnings'; the common opinion being that death announces its\napproach by certain mysterious noises, a powerful illustration of which\noccurs in 'Macbeth' (Act ii. sc. 3), where Lennox graphically describes\nhow, on the awful night in which Duncan is murdered--\n\n    Our chimneys were blown down: and, as they say\n    Lamentings heard i' the air; strange screams of death:\n    And prophesying, with accents terrible,\n    Of dire combustion, and confused events,\n    New hatch'd to the woeful time.\n\nModern folk-lore holds either that a knocking or rumbling in the floor\nis an omen of death about to happen, or that dying persons themselves\nannounce their dissolution to their friends in such strange sounds.[341]\n\nIn recent years one of the most interesting instances of a phantom\nvoice occurred in connection with the death of Mr. George Smith,\nthe well-known Assyriologist. This eminent scholar died at Aleppo,\non August 19, 1876, at about six o'clock in the afternoon. On the\nsame day, and at about the same time, as Dr. Delitzsch--a friend and\nfellow-worker of Mr. Smith--was passing within a stone's throw of the\nhouse in which he had lived when in London, he suddenly heard his own\nname uttered aloud 'in a most piercing cry,' which a contemporary\nrecord of the time said 'thrilled him to the marrow.' The fact\nimpressed Dr. Delitzsch so much that he looked at his watch, made a\nnote of the hour, and recorded the fact in his note-book, this being\none of those straightforward and unimpeachable coincidences which, even\nto an opponent, is difficult to explain.\n\nThere can be no doubt that many of the unearthly noises heard near and\nin lonely houses on the coast were produced by an illicit class of\nspirits, that is, through the agency of smugglers, 'in order to alarm\nand drive all others but their accomplices from their haunts.' Thus, in\na house at Rottingdean, Sussex, all kinds of strange noises were heard\nnight after night, when suddenly they ceased. Soon afterwards one of\na gang of smugglers confessed to their having made a secret passage\nfrom the beach close by the house, and that, wishing to induce the\noccupiers to abandon it, they had rolled at the dead of night tub after\ntub of spirits up the passage, and so had caused it to be reported that\nthe place was haunted.[342] George Cruikshank tells how, in the wine\ncellar of a house somewhere near Blackheath, there were sometimes heard\nstrange noises in the evening and at night-time, such as knocking,\ngroaning, footsteps, &c. The master of the house at last determined 'to\nlay the ghost' if possible, and one evening, when these noises had been\nheard, went with his servants to the cellar, where they discovered an\nunder-gardener in a drunken state. It seems that he had tunnelled a\nhole from the tool-house through the wall into the cellar.\n\nIn numerous cases, too, there can be no doubt that strange noises heard\nin the silent hours of the night have been due to some cleverly-devised\ntrick for the purpose, in many cases, of keeping the house uninhabited,\nand thereby benefiting, it may be, some impecunious care-taker. A story\nis told of a ghost--which turned out to be the trick of a Franciscan\nfriar--that answered questions by knocking in the Catholic church of\nOrleans, and demanded the removal of the provost's Lutheran wife, who\nhad been buried there.[343] But one of the most eccentric instances\nof spiritual antics was the noises said to have been heard at Epworth\nParsonage in the time of the Rev. Samuel Wesley, these sounds having\nconsisted of 'knockings' and 'groanings,' of 'footsteps,' and 'rustling\nof silk trailing along,' 'clattering of the iron casement,' and\n'clattering of the warming pan,' and all sorts of frightful noises,\nwhich frightened even a big dog, a large mastiff, who used, at first,\nwhen he heard the noises, 'to bark, and leap, and snap on one side\nand the other, and that frequently before anyone in the room heard\nthe noises at all; but after two or three days he used to creep away\nbefore the noise began, and by this the family knew it was at hand.'\nMr. Wesley at one time thought it was rats, and sent for a horn to\nblow them away. But this made matters worse, for after the horn was\nblown the noise came in the daytime as well. Some of the Wesley family\nbelieved it to be supernatural hauntings, and explained the cause of\nit thus: at morning and evening prayers, 'when the Rev. Samuel Wesley\ncommenced prayer for the king, a knocking began all round the room, and\na thundering knock attended the _Amen_.' Mr. Wesley observed that his\nwife did not say '_Amen_' to the prayer for the king, but Mrs. Wesley\nadded she could not, for she did not believe that the Prince of Orange\nwas king.[344] Ewshott House, Hampshire, was disturbed by equally\nstrange sounds, and Glamis Castle, with its secret room, has long been\nfamous for the mysterious noises, knocking, and hammering heard at\nnight-time, which a lady once remarked reminded her of the erection of\na scaffold.\n\nThe miscreant ghosts of wicked people are supposed to make all kinds of\nunearthly noises, for as they cannot enjoy peace in their graves, they\ndelight in annoying the occupants of their mortal haunts. Lowther Hall,\nthe residence of the 'bad Lord Lonsdale,' was disturbed by such uncanny\nsounds that neither men nor animals were permitted to rest, and many of\nthe ghost stories told of our old country houses describe the peculiar\nnoises made by their ghostly tenants. The mother of the premier, George\nCanning, used to tell her experiences of a haunted house in Plymouth,\nwhere she stayed during a theatrical engagement. Having learnt from a\nMr. Bernard, who was connected with the theatre, that he could obtain\ncomfortable apartments for her at a moderate price, she accepted his\noffer. 'There is,' said he, 'a house belonging to our carpenter that\nis reported to be haunted, and nobody will live in it. If you like to\nhave it you may, and for nothing, I believe, for he is so anxious to\nget a tenant; only you must not let it be known that you do not pay any\nrent for it.' It turned out as Mr. Bernard had informed her, for night\nafter night she heard all such noises as are wont to proceed from a\nworkshop, although, on examining every part of the house herself, she\nfound nothing to account for this extraordinary series of noises.\n\nOccasionally, it is said, before the perpetration of any dreadful\ncrime, as murder, a supernatural sound is heard. A murder was\ncommitted, for instance, at Cottertown, of Auchanasie, near Keith,\non January 11, 1797, in connection with which the following facts\nhave been recorded: 'On the day on which the deed was done, two men,\nstrangers to the district, called at a farmhouse about three miles\nfrom the house in which lived the old folk that were murdered. Shortly\nbefore the tragic act was committed, a sound was heard passing along\nthe road the two men were seen to take, in the direction of the place\nat which the murder was perpetrated. So loud and extraordinary was the\nnoise that the people left their houses to see what it was that was\npassing. To the amazement of every one, nothing was to be seen, though\nit was moonlight, and moonlight so bright that it aroused attention.\nAll believed something dreadful was to happen, and some proposed to\nfollow the sound. About the time this discussion was going on, a\nblaze of fire arose on the hill of Auchanasie. The foul deed had been\naccomplished, and the cottage set on fire. By next day all knew of what\nthe mysterious sound had been the forerunner.'[345] At Wheal Vor Mine\nan unaccountable noise has been generally supposed to be a warning.\nOn Barry Island, near Cardiff, it is said that certain ghostly noises\nwere formerly heard in it--sounds resembling the clanking of chains,\nhammering of iron, and blowing of bellows, and which were supposed to\nbe made by the fiends whom Merlin had set to work to frame the wall of\ncrags to surround Carmarthen.\n\nThe following extract from Lockhart's 'Life of Sir Walter Scott'\nrecords a strange noise which was heard while the new house at\nAbbotsford was being built, the novelist living in an older part,\nclose adjoining: 'Walter Scott to Daniel Terry, April 30, 1818.... The\nexposed state of my house has led to a mysterious disturbance. The\nnight before last we were awakened by a violent noise, like drawing\nheavy boards along the new part of the house. I fancied something had\nfallen, and thought no more about it; this was about _two_ in the\nmorning. Last night, at the same witching hour, the very same noise\noccurred. Mrs. S., as you know, is rather timbersome, so up I got, with\nBeardie's broad sword under my arm--\n\n    Bolt upright,\n    And ready to fight.\n\nBut nothing was out of order, neither can I discover what occasioned\nthe disturbance.' Mr. Lockhart adds: 'On the morning that Mr. Terry\nreceived the foregoing letter in London, Mr. William Erskine was\nbreakfasting with him, and the chief subject of their conversation\nwas the sudden death of George Bullock, which had occurred on the\nsame night, and nearly as they could ascertain at the very hour when\nScott was aroused from his sleep by the \"mysterious disturbance\" here\ndescribed. This coincidence, when Scott received Erskine's minute\ndetail of what had happened in Tenterdon Street (that is, the death of\nBullock, who had the charge of furnishing the new rooms at Abbotsford),\nmade a much stronger impression on his mind than might be gathered\nfrom the tone of an ensuing communication.' It seems that Bullock had\nbeen at Abbotsford, and made himself a great favourite with old and\nyoung. Sir Walter Scott, a week or two afterwards, wrote thus to Terry:\n'Were you not struck with the fantastical coincidence of our nocturnal\ndisturbances at Abbotsford, with the melancholy event that followed? I\nprotest to you the noise resembled half a dozen men at work, putting\nup boards and furniture, and nothing can be more certain than that\nthere was nobody on the premises at the time. With a few additional\ntouches, the story would figure in Glanville or Aubrey's collection. In\nthe meantime you may set it down, with poor Dubisson's warnings, as a\nremarkable coincidence coming under your own observation.'\n\nIn a paper by Mrs. Edwards, in 'Macmillan's Magazine,' entitled 'The\nMystery of Pezazi,' an account is given of constant disturbing sounds\nof nocturnal tree-felling heard near a bungalow in Ceylon, where\nexamination proved that no trees had been felled. Mrs. Edwards, her\nhusband, and their servants were on several occasions disturbed by\nthese sounds, which were unmistakable and distinct. The Singhalese\nattribute these noises to a Pezazi, or spirit. A description of\nprecisely the same disturbances occurs, writes Mr. Andrew Lang,[346]\nin Sahagun's account of the superstitions of the Aztecs, and it seems\nthat the Galapagos Islands, 'suthard of the line,' were haunted by the\nmidnight axe. 'De Quincey,' adds Mr. Lang, 'who certainly had not heard\nthe Ceylon story, and who probably would have mentioned Sahagun's had\nhe known it, describes the effect produced by the midnight axe on the\nnerves of his brother, Pink: \"So it was, and attested by generations\nof sea-vagabonds, that every night, duly as the sun went down and the\ntwilight began to prevail, a sound arose--audible to other islands,\nand to every ship lying quietly at anchor in that neighbourhood--of\na woodcutter's axe.... The close of the story was that after, I\nsuppose, ten or twelve minutes of hacking and hewing, a horrid crash\nwas heard, announcing that the tree, if tree it were, that never yet\nwas made visible to daylight search, had yielded to the old woodman's\npersecution.... The woodcutter's axe began to intermit about the\nearliest approach of dawn, and as light strengthened it ceased\nentirely, after poor Pink's ghostly panic grew insupportable.\"'\n\nAmong the American Indians all the sounds that issued from caverns\nwere thought to be produced by their spiritual inhabitants. The\nSonora Indians say that departed souls dwell among the caves and\nnooks of their cliffs, and that echoes often heard there are their\nvoices. Similarly, when explosions were heard, caused by the\nsulphurous gas from the rocks around the head-waters of Lake Ontario,\nthe superstitious Indians attributed them to the breathing of the\nManitous.[347] The modern Dayaks, Siamese, and Singhalese agree with\nthe Esths as to noises being caused by spirits. European folk-lore has\nlong ascribed most of the unexplained noises to the agency of spirits,\nand to this day Franconian damsels go to a tree on St. Thomas's Day,\nknock three times, and listen for the indwelling spirit to inform them\nfrom raps within what kind of husbands they are to have. Hence the\nnight is known as 'Little Knocker's Night.' There is the Poltergeist of\nthe German, a mischievous spirit, who wanders about the house at night\nmaking all kinds of strange noises.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[341] Tylor's _Primitive Culture_, i. p. 145.\n\n[342] Mrs. Latham's 'West Sussex Superstitions,' _Folk-lore Record_, i.\np. 21.\n\n[343] See Tylor's _Primitive Culture_, i. p. 146.\n\n[344] See Southey's _Life of Wesley_.\n\n[345] Walter Gregor: _Folk-lore of North-East of Scotland_, pp. 205,\n206.\n\n[346] _Nineteenth Century_, vol. xvii. p. 627.\n\n[347] Dorman's _Primitive Superstitions_, p. 302.\n\n\n\n\nINDEX\n\n\n  Abbot, ghost of, in Abbey of Clare, 326\n  Abbotsford, 434-436\n  Abipones, superstitions of, 89, 336, 340\n  Accidents, ghosts appear at scene of, 168\n  African beliefs, 30, 90-91, 182, 346\n  Agnes', St., Fast, 385\n  Alaska belief, 10\n  Albans, St., Duchess of, 100\n  Aleutian islanders, 341\n  Algonquin Indians, 40, 309, 339\n  Allanbank, ghost at, 312\n  Allhallow Eve, 118\n  Althorp, apparition seen at, 319\n  American Indian beliefs, 6, 23, 37, 89, 143, 217, 343, 414, 438\n  Ancestor worship, 102\n  Andaman islanders, 110\n  Andrew's Eve, St., 388\n  Angel of death, 273\n  Angola, belief in, 182\n  Animal ghosts, 102-126\n  Arabian belief, 360\n  Ash-ridlin, 386\n  Ashley Hall, Cheshire, 326\n  Assiniboins, belief of, 66\n  Astwood Castle, 319\n  Australian beliefs, 21, 33, 45, 67, 165, 340, 343, 360, 395\n  Awd Nance, ghost so called, 326\n  Aztec legend of Creation, 36\n  ---- belief, 90, 437\n\n  Bad Lord Lonsdale, 311, 432\n  Bagley House, 318\n  Bahrgeist, 114\n  Balcarres, Lord, 372\n  Banshee, 221, 271-283, 305, 383\n  Barguest, 114\n  Barton Hall, haunted, 312\n  Basutos, belief of, 3\n  Baxter, R., story told by, 250\n  Bean-geese, 120\n  Bear, soul as, 111\n  Beckington Castle, 333\n  Bees, soul in form of, 161\n  Bell, passing, 15\n  Bells, legends of, 420\n  ---- phantom, 420\n  ---- tolling of, 227\n  Belludo, Spanish ghost, 147\n  Benedictine nun, ghost of, 219\n  Benjie Gear, ghost so called, 195\n  Ben Jonson, 372\n  Benshee, 273\n  Bergm\u00f6nch, spectre so called, 269\n  Berkeley Square, mystery of, 317-318\n  Berry Pomeroy Castle, 318\n  Bertha of Rosenberg, 228\n  Beswick, Madame, ghost of, 131, 399\n  Bible in ghost laying, 192, 197\n  Biddick Hall, South, 327\n  Bilocation, or double personality, 367\n  Birchen Tower, Hollinwood, 398\n  Bird near sick-room, 97\n  Birds as soul bearers, 96\n  ---- phantom, 85-101\n  ---- singed, souls as, 96\n  ---- the way of, 96\n  Birkbeck ghost, 372-373\n  Birraark, 165-166\n  Birth, superstitions relating to, 97\n  Black dog, spectral, 107-108\n  ---- friar, ghost of, 221, 308\n  ---- Heddon, Northumberland, 398\n  Bleeding nun, ghost of, 44\n  Blenkinsopp Castle, 326, 400\n  Bloodstains, indelible, 146\n  Bloody hand, spectre of, 220\n  Bluecap, 264\n  ---- lights, 390\n  Bodach au Dun, 220\n  ---- Glas, 220\n  Bodacher Garlin, 221\n  Boggan, 114\n  Boggart, at Clegg Hall, 199\n  Boguest, 114\n  Bohemian belief, 86, 160, 183, 211, 228, 336, 339\n  Boleyn, Lady Ann, 147\n  Bolivia, Yuricares of, 37\n  Bolles pit, 203\n  Bolotu, 28\n  Bones of dead preserved, 36-37\n  Booty's ghost, 241-244\n  Borneo, Dayaks of, 18, 438\n  Bothwell, Lady, ghost of, 74, 308\n  Bottle imps, 185\n  Bottreaux, bells of, 421\n  Brandenburg, Elector of, 229\n  Brazil, Indians of, 33, 41, 45, 90, 359, 393\n  Brides, ghosts of, 61\n  Bridge End House, 327\n  Brocken, spectre of, 352\n  Brougham, Lord, 245\n  Brownies, 313, 404\n  Brown lady at Rainham, 312\n  Bulgarian belief, 80, 160, 189\n  Bull, ghost as a, 104\n  Burial-grounds, haunted, 343\n  Burma, 359\n  Burton Agnes Hall, 326\n  Butterflies, phantom, 156-162\n  Byron, Lord, 210, 221\n  ---- Sir John, the Little, 313\n\n  Caistor Hall, ghost at, 150\n  Calabar superstition, 336\n  Californian beliefs, 15, 35, 90\n  Candles in ghost laying, 190\n  ---- snuff of, taken for ghost laying, 362\n  ---- spectral, 139\n  Canning, George, 432\n  Capelthwaite, 114\n  Cassowary, 111\n  Castle, sunken, 348\n  Cedar room at Ashley Hall, 326\n  Chappie, ghost so called, 306\n  Chartley Park, 224\n  Chasse Macabee, 125\n  Checks against ghosts, 354-362\n  Chevalier de Saxe, 171\n  Chiancungi, fortune-tellers, 173\n  Chibchas, 184\n  Chinese belief, 6, 19, 33, 53, 55, 62, 65, 66, 72, 195, 211, 292,\n    339, 358\n  Choctaw belief, 29, 37\n  Chough, King Arthur in form of, 94\n  Christmastide, ghosts at, 302-303\n  Church ghosts, 330-331\n  ---- lamb, 126\n  ---- porch, 332-333, 387\n  ---- yard spectres, 69\n  Churton Hall, 321\n  Clegg Hall boggart, 199, 322\n  Clock superstition, 227\n  Cloud, soul as white, 4\n  Cobal, ghost so called, 270\n  Cock-crow, 354-356\n  Cocks' feathers hinder exit of soul, 12\n  Cold lad, 313\n  Colt, ghost as a, 103\n  Combermere Abbey, 322\n  Compacts between living and dead, 245-256\n  Copeland, lady of, 133\n  Corby Castle, ghost at, 311\n  Cornish beliefs, 103, 108, 120, 128, 201, 207, 208, 262, 294, 300,\n    421\n  ---- legend of King Arthur, 94\n  Cornwolf, 396\n  Corpse candle, 139-140\n  Cortachy Castle haunted, 311, 417\n  Courting a ghost, 384\n  Coved saloon at Combermere Abbey, 322\n  Cows, ghosts in form of, 109\n  Craighouse, 325\n  Creslow Manor House, 313\n  Criminals, ghosts of, 69\n  Crook Hall haunted, 327\n  Cross, check against evil spirits, 358, 361\n  Cross-roads, ghosts at, 61, 383\n  Cruikshank, George, 429\n  Cullaby Castle, 320\n  Cumberland, 76, 78, 266, 366\n  Cumnor Hall, 77, 320\n  Cutty Soams, 264\n  Cwn y Wybe, 118\n  Cyprus, 183\n\n  Dandy dogs, 118, 120, 121\n  Danish superstitions, 8, 48, 61, 88, 97, 126, 183, 215, 289, 361,\n    385, 416\n  Dead, mutilation of, 359-360\n  ---- unburied, 43-49\n  ---- worship of, 63\n  Death bell, 413\n  ---- birds presage of, 97-98\n  ---- warnings, 12, 13, 219, 232, 427\n  Delitzsch, Dr., 428\n  Demon, soul as, 62\n  Denis, St., 145\n  Denton Hall, 326\n  Departed, Bay of the, 206\n  Derwentwater, Lady, 321\n  Desert, water of, 352\n  Devil, compact with Lord Soulis, 323\n  ---- powerless at cock-crow, 355\n  ---- tries to seize soul at death, 14\n  Devonshire beliefs, 97, 98, 376\n  Diedrick of Bern, 125\n  Dishonesty in life causes soul to wander, 51\n  Doe, White, of Rylstone, 108\n  Dogs of hell, 122\n  ---- spectral, 105-106\n  ---- the sky, 122\n  Donart's Castle, St., 76\n  Doors unfastened at death, 6\n  Dorcas, ghost so called, 267\n  Dorchester, Lord, 380\n  Dorsetshire, 149\n  Doves in ghost-lore, 94, 98\n  Doyle, Bishop, death of, 100\n  Dreams, proof of soul's existence, 17, 18\n  Dress, phantom, 303-309\n  Drowned, ghosts of, 206-213\n  Drummer, mysterious, 311\n  ---- of Tedworth, 317\n  Duck, soul as, 87\n  Durham, 151\n  Dutch belief, 8-9\n  Dyterbjernat, 125\n\n  Eagle, 94, 96\n  Easterton ghost, the, 329\n  Ebb of tide, death at, 15-16\n  Edge Hill, strange phenomenon at, 351\n  Edgewell oak, 222\n  Edgeworth, Maria, 372\n  Effigy, burial in, 49\n  Elixir of life, 175\n  Elizabeth, Queen, and her fetch, 364\n  Elymas, the sorcerer, 164\n  Epworth Parsonage haunted, 328, 430\n  Eskimo belief, 6, 111, 143, 359\n  Essex, 111\n  Ewshott House haunted, 318, 431\n  Exorcism, 88, 166\n  Eye, soul in the, 3, 4\n\n  Fairy music, 413\n  Fata Morgana, 352\n  Feathers, game, hinder exit of soul, 11-12\n  Female fairy, 273\n  Fetches, 363-364\n  Fiddler, the indefatigable, 416\n  Fijian beliefs, 19, 23, 27-28, 182, 217, 309, 339\n  Finland, custom in, 336\n  Fire, check against ghosts, 358\n  Fish animated by souls, 111\n  Flame, soul in, 137\n  Flax-seed, charm against ghosts, 362\n  Flies, souls as, 161\n  Flying Dutchman, 286, 293\n  Foot of the Fawn, 99\n  Foote, Samuel, 424\n  Foundation sacrifices, 30\n  French beliefs, 5, 109, 125, 133, 231, 270, 289, 291\n  Furious host, 136\n  Fye, or wraith, 369\n\n  Gabriel hounds, 117, 136\n  ---- Ratchets, 118-119\n  Galicia, belief in, 37\n  Game feathers hinder exit of soul, 11-12\n  German beliefs, 5, 6, 8, 9, 56, 86, 97, 99, 123, 135-136, 155, 183,\n    212, 227, 260, 338, 341, 348, 360, 388, 391, 396\n  Ghosts and hidden treasures, 397-410\n  ---- checks against, 354-362\n  ---- different classes of, 41\n  ---- headless, 33, 53, 69, 144-158, 306, 383\n  ---- times of appearing, 382-390\n  ---- why they wander, 50-63\n  Ghost laying, 104, 179-205\n  ---- of the Hill, 220\n  ---- raising, 163-178\n  ---- seers, 214-218\n  Glamis Castle haunted, 313, 431\n  Gnat, soul as, 161\n  Goblin friar, 313\n  Golden mountain, 146\n  Gould, Madame, 98\n  Grass-wolf, 396\n  Grave-sow, 126\n  Graves, haunted, 341\n  ---- treading on, 345\n  Gray sow, 126\n  Greece, beliefs in, 25, 183, 394\n  Greenland, beliefs in, 23, 29, 339\n  Grief causes soul to wander, 61\n  Gunpowder and ghosts, 360-361\n  Gurlinbeg, family of, 221\n\n  Hackwood House haunted, 32\n  Hairy left hand, girl with, 221\n  Hallow Eve, 388\n  Hamilton, Lady, of Bothwellhaugh, 74\n  Hanged, ghosts of, 53\n  Hare, ghost as, 103, 271\n  Harlequin, 125\n  Haunted houses, 310-334\n  ---- localities, 335-353\n  Headless ghosts, 33, 53, 60, 144-158, 306, 383\n  Heart, seat of soul, 2, 3\n  Hell Hole, 423\n  Henequin, 125\n  Herburt family, 94\n  Hermitage Castle, 322, 403\n  Herring piece, 93\n  ---- spear, 93\n  Hidden treasures and ghosts, 397-410\n  Hilton Castle, 313\n  Hindu beliefs, 339\n  ---- dirge, 11\n  Hinton Ampner Manor House, 312\n  Hoby, Lady, 321\n  Holland House, 145, 314\n  Holly and ghost laying, 188\n  ---- charm against evil spirits, 358\n  Holt Castle, 319\n  Hooper of Sennen Cove, 300\n  Horse, spectre as, 125\n  ---- shoe, 361\n  Hottentot customs at death, 336, 339\n  Hound, ghost as, 105\n  House-fire put out at death, 359\n  Houses, haunted, 310-334\n  Howard, Lady, ghost of, 104\n  Hugh Capet, 125\n  Hulme Castle, treasures at, 397\n  Hungary, belief in, 61\n  Hunt, spectral, 124-125\n  Huntsman, wild, 125\n  Hurons of America, belief of, 67\n  Hyssington Church, ghost at, 104\n\n  Ignes Fatui, ghost as, 50-51\n  Incantations against ghosts, 164\n  Inchcape Bell, 422-423\n  India, beliefs in, 12, 62, 67, 96, 99, 109, 110, 340, 343, 346,\n    357, 393, 395, 412, 414\n  Insect life, 102\n  Irish superstitions, 11, 94, 137, 146, 153, 156-157, 226, 274-275,\n    344, 350, 370, 377, 383, 405, 413\n  Iroquois of North America, beliefs of, 44, 347, 393\n  Italian belief, 358\n  ---- burial custom, 339\n\n  Jackals, ghosts as, 9\n  Japanese ghost story, 72\n  ---- mode of raising ghost, 166\n  Jeffrey, Lady, ghost of, 187\n  Jemmy Lowther, 311\n  Juniper, spirit-haunted tree, 395\n\n  Kaffir beliefs, 2, 336\n  Kaneka superstition, 230-231\n  Karens, beliefs of, 45, 67, 160, 309\n  Kendal, Duchess of, 100\n  Kilncote church porch, 332\n  Kinchardines, 220\n  Kirk-grim, 125\n  Knauff-Kriegen, 270\n  Knockers, 262\n\n  Lady of Copeland, 133\n  ---- of Death, 273\n  ---- of the Golden Casket, 129\n  ---- of the Lantern, 128\n  ---- Winter's walk, 156\n  Lamb buried under altar, 126\n  ---- church, 126\n  Lambton, Madame, 327\n  Lancashire, 4-5, 14, 74-75, 91-92, 112, 198, 214, 376\n  Lavington, East, parsonage, 329\n  Lightfoot, Lady, 77\n  Lights, phantom, 127-143\n  Lily, soul as, 391-392\n  Lincolnshire, 129\n  Lion, 226\n  Little Knocker's Night, 438\n  Lledrith, 370\n  Locks unfastened at death, 5, 7\n  Lowther Hall haunted, 432\n  Ly-erg, 220\n  Lyttelton, Lord, 100\n\n  Madagascar, beliefs in, 23, 346\n  Madge Figg's chair, 129\n  Madness causes soul to wander, 61\n  Magic circle, 167\n  Malay belief, 3\n  Malevolent spirits, 70\n  Manes worship, 63\n  Manx fishermen, 93\n  Maori belief, 336\n  Mark's, St., Eve, 332, 386\n  Martyrs, ghosts of, 86\n  Mary Way, spectre so called, 152\n  Mauthe Doog, 116-117, 311\n  May Moulach, 221\n  Mazarin, Duchess of, 254\n  Mermaid, 415\n  Mexican belief, 89\n  Midsummer Eve, 387\n  Milky-way, the, 96\n  Miners' ghosts, 257-272, 370-371\n  Mines, ghosts in, 108, 262-263\n  Mirage, 352\n  Mohun, Lord, 372\n  Money hidden by ghosts, 400-409\n  Monkey, soul as, 110\n  Mountain, abode of spirits, 348\n  Mourning customs, 340\n  Mouse, soul as, 110\n  Mouth, escape of soul from, 2-5\n  Murder discovered through ghost, 81-84\n  ---- preceded by supernatural sounds, 433-434\n  Murdered, ghosts of, 33, 64-84\n  Murderers, ghosts of, 52-53, 54, 360\n  Music, phantom, 411-425\n  ---- at sea, 413\n\n  Necromancy, 165\n  Netherby Hall, 327\n  Newstead Abbey, 313\n  New Zealanders, beliefs of, 3, 35, 182\n  Nix, river spirit, 202\n  Norfolk, 112, 148, 149, 208, 423\n  Northamptonshire, 383-384, 409-410\n  Northumberland, 150, 398\n  Norwegian beliefs, 68, 76, 360\n  Nostrils, exit of soul through, 3\n  Nun, bleeding, 44\n  ---- of Walton, spectre so called, 154\n  Nymph of air, 273\n\n  Oak, holes in, 395\n  Obrick's colt, 103\n  Ojibway, beliefs in, 30, 162, 184, 185, 217, 291, 336, 339, 347\n  Old Barbery, ghost so called, 326-327\n  ---- Hummums, 316\n  Orleans, Catholic church of, 430\n  Ottawas, beliefs of, 45, 68\n  Oulton House, Suffolk, 322\n  Ouse, river, 225\n  Owls and Arundel of Wardour, 99, 222\n  ---- as souls, 94-95\n  Oxenham family, death-omen of, 98\n\n  Padfoot, 113\n  Papuans of New Guinea, belief of, 110\n  Parsonages, haunted, 328-329\n  Passing bell, 15\n  Pawcorance, small bird, 95\n  Pearlin, Jean, 305\n  Peel Castle haunted, 116-117, 311\n  Peg O'Nell, ghost so called, 200, 327\n  Percy, Sir Joceline, 150\n  Personality, double, 367\n  Peruvian beliefs, 36, 257, 387\n  Pezazi, mystery of, 436-437\n  Phantom bells, 420-421\n  ---- birds, 85-101\n  ---- butterflies, 159-162\n  ---- dress, 303-309\n  ---- lights, 127-143\n  ---- music, 411-425\n  ---- sounds, 426-438\n  Philosopher's stone, 175\n  Pig, ghost as, 125\n  Pigeon feathers hinder exit of soul, 11-12\n  ---- ghost as a, 86\n  Pigott, Madame, 197\n  Pileck family, 94\n  Pirate wrecker, 294\n  Polish legend, 94\n  Poltergeist, a spectre in Germany, 438\n  Polynesian belief, 45\n  Pomerania, belief in, 183\n  Porter, Anna Maria, 373\n  Potawatomis, 184\n  Powis Castle, 320\n  Prophecy at death, 13-14\n  Pysling, form of ghost, 70\n\n  Rabbit, 271\n  Radiant boy, 129, 311\n  Rainham, story Marquis of Townshend, 312\n  Ramhurst Manor House, 312\n  Ravens as ghosts of the murdered, 48, 88\n  ---- omens of death, 100\n  Red Sea, ghosts laid in, 201, 203-204\n  Redwing, noise caused by, 93\n  Rich, Lady Diana, 366\n  Robin redbreast, 100-101\n  Robsart, Amy, 77, 202, 320\n  Roof, hole made in for exit of soul, 6\n  Rose, white, soul as, 392\n  Roslin Chapel, 141\n  Rothiemurcus, 220\n  Roumenian legend, 31\n  Rufus, William, fetch of, 34\n  Russia, Catharine of, 369\n  Russian beliefs, 2, 12, 32, 137, 159, 161, 338, 349, 358\n  Rustling lady, the, 327\n\n  Sacrifices, foundation, 30\n  ---- to souls of departed, 62\n  Samlesbury Hall, 322\n  Sampford Peverell ghost, 322\n  Sandwich Islanders, 340\n  Scotch beliefs, 6, 7, 11, 61, 73, 125, 129, 169, 180, 194, 230,\n    239, 258, 265, 312, 359, 369, 370, 401-402\n  Scott, Sir Walter, 434-435\n  Seals, spectral, 106\n  Sea-phantoms, 284-302\n  Seaton Delaval Castle, 321\n  Second sight, 22, 233-244\n  Seminoles of Florida, 4, 336\n  Serpent comes out of mouth, 109\n  Servian belief, 160\n  Seven whistlers, 91\n  Sexhow, ghost at, 399\n  Shadow sight, 233\n  ---- soul as, 29-32\n  Sheep, ghosts as, 109\n  Shelley and his wraith, 365\n  Shell fire, 137\n  Shrieking woman, the, 71\n  Shropshire, 55, 61, 103-104, 151-153, 181-187, 190\n  Shuck's Lane, 112\n  Siamese superstitions, 67, 212, 339-438\n  Siberian belief, 358\n  Silky, name of a ghost, 130, 305, 321, 327, 398\n  Silky's bridge, 131\n  Simon Magus, 164\n  Singed birds, souls as, 96\n  Singhalese superstitions, 408, 437-438\n  Skipsea Castle, 326\n  Skull at Agnes Burton Hall, 326\n  Smellie, W., 252\n  Smith, George, the Assyriologist, 428\n  Smoke, soul as, 2\n  Smugglers, 429\n  Snakes, ghosts in form of, 62-109\n  Sneezing, explanation of, 22\n  Soul-bringer, 97\n  Soul, appearance of, 40-41\n  ---- bringing back of, 19\n  ---- destination of, 348\n  ---- duplex nature of, 27\n  ---- existence of depends on manner of death, 33-35\n  ---- exit of, 1-16\n  ---- materiality of, 24-27\n  ---- nature of, 24-42\n  ---- temporary exit of, 17-23, 338\n  ---- voice of, 39-40\n  ---- weight of, 38-39\n  Souldern Rectory, 328\n  Souter, or Soutra, Fell, 351\n  Spanish beliefs, 5, 360\n  Spectral child, 321\n  ---- dogs, 111\n  ---- hunt, 124-5\n  ---- ships, 288-9, 294\n  Spells against ghosts, 354-362\n  Spirit of air, 273\n  Staffordshire rhyme, 51\n  Steam, soul as, 3\n  Stichios, a kind of spectre, 394\n  Storks, 95, 97\n  Stradling, Lady, 76\n  Strand varsler, 48\n  Striker, 112\n  Sturgeon, death omen, 222\n  Suffolk belief, 149, 184-198\n  Suicides, ghosts of, 53\n  Sunday children, 215\n  Sunken towns, 348\n  Sunrise, ghosts disappear at, 390\n  Sussex beliefs, 11, 37, 150, 429\n  Swallow, ghost as, 86\n  Swan, soul in form of, 88\n  Swarth or fetch, 366\n  Swedish beliefs, 88, 125, 135, 229, 289, 356, 384-395\n  Swinsty Hall, 398\n  Switzerland, 161\n  Sykes Lumb Farm, 400-401\n\n  Tahiti beliefs, 3, 182\n  Talking dog, 311\n  Tasks, or wraiths, 370\n  Tasmanian belief, 340\n  Tears hinder exit of soul, 8-11\n  Tedworth, drummer of, 418\n  Thomas's Day, St., 438\n  Thuringia, Duke Louis of, sign of his death, 99\n  Tibetan belief, 339\n  Tide, life goes out with, 15-16\n  Tipperahs of Chittagong, 181\n  Tongan belief, 29\n  Tower of London haunted, 314-315\n  Trash, spectre dog so called, 112\n  Treasures and ghosts, 397-410\n  ---- guarded by evil spirits, 257-258\n  Trees, spirit-haunted, 391-396\n  Trevelyan, seat of, haunted, 321\n  Trinity Church, York, ghost at, 330\n  Tulloch Gorms, 221\n  Tyrolese superstitions, 4\n\n  Unbaptized, souls of, 136\n\n  Valentine's Eve, St., 386\n  Vampires, 189\n  Vapour, soul as, 3\n  Vingoes, death token of, 221\n  Violets spring from graves, 393\n\n  Waddow Hall, 327\n  Waff, or fetch, 366\n  Wallow Crag, ghost laid under, 312\n  Walton Abbey, 306, 322\n  Warwickshire, 263\n  Water, relation of ghosts to, 181-182\n  Weasel, soul as, 110\n  Wells, haunted, 348\n  Welsh superstitions, 53, 116, 122, 140, 185, 189, 260-261, 404-405,\n    417\n  Wheal Vor, mine haunted at, 260, 434\n  Whistlers, the seven, 91\n  Whistling, voice of souls, 40\n  Whitby Abbey, 420\n  White-breasted bird, 97, 223\n  White Doe of Rylstone, 108\n  ---- lady, 98, 227-229, 305, 326-327\n  ---- ---- of Skipsea, 306\n  ---- ---- of Sorrow, 273\n  Wicked priest, 321\n  Willington Mill, 306, 327\n  Willow tree, anecdote connected with, 223\n  Wimbell Pond haunted, 401\n  Wisk hounds, 118\n  Witchcraft, 7, 106\n  Woman of peace, 273\n  Worcestershire, 62, 100, 156, 192, 200, 226\n  Wraith-seeing, 363-381\n  Wren, superstition connected with, 93\n  Wyecoller Hall, 312\n\n  Yellow Sand, Isle of, 407\n  Yesk hounds, 118\n  Yeth hounds, 118-119\n  Yorkshire, 12, 91, 108, 129-130, 150, 154, 159, 215, 366\n\n  Zambesi superstition, 341\n  Zulus, beliefs of, 30, 40, 109\n\n\nPRINTED BY\nSPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE\nLONDON\n\n\n\n\n      *      *      *      *      *      *\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's note:\n\nA table of contents was missing from the original and has been added.\n\nFootnotes were renumbered and gathered at the end of the chapter to\nwhich they belong.\n\nErrors in punctuation, capitalisation, and missing letters and\nfootnote numbers have been corrected without note. If necessary for\nthe placement of quotation marks or the footnote number, the source\nof some quotations was verified on Internet Archive.\n\nThe following corrections were made, on page\n\n   89 \"ledy\" changed to \"lady\" (The lady in earth by her lord lay)\n   91 \"Brazials\" changed to \"Brazilians\" (The Brazilians imagined that\n      the souls of the bad)\n  257 2nd \"to\" removed (a belief to which Falstaff alludes in)\n  320 \"Ann\" changed to \"Amy\" (the supposed scene of the murder of\n      Lady Amy Bobsart)\n  369 \"ninty-ninth\" changed to \"ninety-ninth\" (when in the\n      ninety-ninth year of her age)\n  439 \"Becklington\" changed to \"Beckington\" (Beckington Castle, 333)\n  439 \"Bergmouch\" changed to \"Bergm\u00f6nch\" (Bergm\u00f6nch, spectre so\n      called, 269)\n  440 \"Bodach Gartin\" changed to \"Bodacher, Garlin\" (Bodacher Garlin,\n      221) and the word order changed\n  440 \"Cassioway\" changed to \"Cassowary\" (Cassowary, 111)\n  440 \"Chibehas\" changed to \"Chibchas\" (Chibchas, 184)\n  442 \"Gurlinheg\" changed to \"Gurlinbeg\" (Gurlinbeg, family of, 221)\n  444 \"Lledwith\" changed to \"Lledrith\" (Lledrith, 370)\n  444 \"Wray\" changed to \"Way\" (Mary Way, spectre so called, 152)\n  444 \"Mazarine\" changed to \"Mazarin\" (Mazarin, Duchess of, 254)\n  444 \"Mohin\" changed to \"Mohun\" (Mohun, Lord, 372)\n  445 \"460-469\" changed to \"400-409\" (Money hidden by ghosts, 400-409)\n  445 \"Padfoit\" changed to \"Padfooit\" (Padfooit, 113)\n  445 \"Padfoot\" added (Padfoot, 113)\n  445 \"Josceline\" changed to \"Joceline\" (Percy, Sir Joceline, 150)\n  445 \"Potawatomies\" changed to \"Potawatomis\" (Potawatomis, 184)\n  445 \"Peverel\" changed to \"Peverell\" (Sampford Peverell ghost, 322)\n  447 \"Waddon\" changed to \"Waddow\" (Waddow Hall, 327)\n  and in footnote 101: 2 words exchanged between lines, \"Indo-\" and\n      \"1872\" (_Folk-lore_, 1872 p. 243; Thorpe's _Northern Mythology_,\n      i. p. 289. See Kelly's _Indo-European Folk-lore_).\n\nOtherwise the original was preserved, including unusual, archaic and\ninconsistent spelling and hyphenation.\n\nAdditional: \"Vanna Levou\" in the quote on page 26 should probably be\n\"Vanua Levu\" also known as \"Sandelwood Island\", Fuji.","title":"The Ghost World","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":88138}