Part 12

SOME three or four years ago I was present at a Christmas party, when the talk turned on ghosts. A gentleman present remarked that ghost stories were almost always second-hand. He had never, he declared, met anyone who could say that he or she had actually seen a ghost.

A lady—a great friend of my own—at once replied, and, as nearly as I can remember it, I will give the story in her own words:—

“Well, then,” she said, “you have now met one who has really seen a ghost. My husband here, and others, are well acquainted with the story. I was, at the time, staying with my aunt in an old house, three flats up, in ——— Edinburgh. The beautifully carved mantelpiece, and peculiar markings on the walls, supposed to have been caused by cannon ball, showed that the house had once been occupied by some of the old Scottish nobility.

“It was in the gathering dusk of a summer evening that I tripped merrily down the stairs to meet George. We were not married then, but courting. Near the foot of the first stair I was surprised to see a girlish figure, clad in white, come gliding up the stairs. Her face was in shadow, but her dark hair floated over her shoulders. As she came nearer, something impelled me to lay my hand on the railing and go backwards step by step. She came on slowly, and, retreating so, I had time to see her figure quite distinctly though her face and feet remained in shadow. Her white dress was filled with tiny frills right up to the waist. She wore a girdle of narrow black velvet that fell in loops on the left side. There was black velvet at her wrists, and, I think, at her throat. Also I distinctly saw red strands of hair amongst the brown.

“I felt no sensation of fear—only a sort of fascination—till I reached the top of the stair. I turned my head to see if my aunt's door was open, and found it was. Then, somehow, such terror seized me I could not look round again, but, screaming loudly, I ran inside and shut the door.

“My aunt, who had been chatting to a neighbour, came rushing in, and she and others were enraged to think that someone had so frightened me. The stairs, back court, and everywhere about was searched, but I knew they might have saved their pains. The girl I saw was no ordinary being of flesh and blood. Nothing happened afterwards; no warning had been conveyed, nor could anyone identify my girlish ghost with any known celebrity who had lived there. I do not know why she came, nor why she appeared to me, but she was there and, for the moment, was as real as myself.”

This lady knows nothing about clairvoyance, had never attended a Spiritualists’ meeting in her life, and her simple narrative impressed all present as an absolutely true statement. She died last summer, but her husband could, I am sure, testify to the truth of what is here related.

“The Old Master”

IN the eventide of a busy life I find a pleasant relaxation from my little daily duties in reading different items in the Daily News, and have been especially interested in those letters on “Visitants.” These have brought to my mind incidents which have taken place during my lifetime.

In my young days ghosts were much believed in, and some were seen which afterwards were proved to be the work of foolish young fellows.

But a short distance from my father’s house was a nice old farm where a well-known family had lived for several generations. The grandfather of the then resident family had been quite a unique character in the district, and had been known as “the old master.” A grandson, who had been abroad for a considerable time, returned to the old home, bringing a manservant with him. A spare room not being available for the man, a comfortable bed was made for him in the big farm-kitchen.

The house had for some time had the reputation of being haunted, but of this the man knew nothing. However, in the early morning he suddenly woke up to see a stout old gentleman walking down a long passage which was opposite the bed. He came noiselessly into the kitchen, and the old sheep dog that lay on the mat by the fireplace at once jumped up, wagging its tail, and ran to him, when he vanished from sight.

In the morning the man related his experience to the family, and, on being questioned, gave an exact description of “the old master.”

The Little Grey Lady

WITHIN three miles of my native city, on the outskirts of a little village, rather isolated by its grounds and its position on a slight eminence, stands a picturesque verandahed dwelling, which at one time was inhabited by elderly cousins of mine. Their father lived with them, and when very occasionally they left him in the house alone for a time, he invariably remarked that they need not mind, for he always had someone near him. This was his only reference to the spirit which haunted the place. Later, the house passed into the possession of townsfolk, who removed to it on account of the failing health of their only child. They had been there only a few days when a frightened scream from the child’s room made them both rush to it, to find her sitting up in bed, with eyes protruding and cheeks blanched. On seeing them, she wildly shrieked: “The little grey lady, the little grey lady! She has gone through the wall.” They soothed her, but could not persuade her that it was merely a nightmare.

Within a week of this, the father chanced to be absent from home for a few days, and the mother shared the child’s room. Again the wild cry arose, suddenly wakening her, and she, with the child, beheld the figure of a little old woman, garbed in a grey shawl and apron, who moved with the aid of a stick, making a strange little stumping noise. She paused by a dressing chest, and appeared to search anxiously for something, then just faded out.

For some little time these folk stayed in the house and frequently heard the tap of her stick, but did not see her again. The strain of the possibility of doing so, however, so told upon them that they moved. Before doing so the lady approached another relative of mine who had lived many years in the neighbourhood, and asked her if she could in any way account for the apparition. She was able to tell her the story which she had heard from an old nurse, who had attended the “little grey lady” in her last illness. It appears that she had sorely wronged her children, misjudging them and leaving her worldly goods to others. At the last she was quite unable to speak, but made pathetic efforts to communicate something which was evidently very much on her mind, at the same time pointing in the direction in which the lady and her child had seen her searching. Nothing was ever found, but one cannot help thinking that the little grey lady had made an effort to right the wrong by trying to tell where some document was hidden.

This story has been known to me for many years, and I always look curiously at the old place as I pass, and wonder if the restless spirit has at last found peace.

A Convincing Experience

AS children we were taught that only ignorant people believed in ghosts, and at twenty-one years of age I would have slept, without a tremor, in any room reported to be haunted. At that age I went to stay with a recently-married brother in a modern and comfortable house near Manchester.

On the first night, at about twelve o’clock, I was still awake. A dim light came from the street gas, and the fire that was nearly out; but it was too dark to see anything distinctly. Suddenly something leant over me, and fear that no words can describe possessed me. My hair seemed to prick me, and intense cold seemed to penetrate to my heart. I thought if it went on I should die. No thought of burglar or any physical danger entered my mind. From the first instant I knew that this was something from outside normal human life—something “ghostly.”

“Who are you? What do you want?” I gasped to the vague form leaning over me. There was no answer. Suddenly it was gone. I jumped out of bed, lit the gas, and left it full on. In the daylight I dared not tell my tale and ask to change my room; I knew how I should have regarded such a tale the day before. When I went to bed the second night I left the gas dimly alight. Towards midnight I felt suddenly cold, and my hair began to prick. I jumped up and turned the gas on full. The fear and cold passed away.

The next night I left the gas full on. Towards midnight I was aware of a little sudden cold, a little sense of panic, but both passed quickly. After that third night nothing happened.

Some weeks later, when I was no longer afraid, I told my brother that something had leant over me in bed. He looked amazed; and, with a sort of horror, I saw that something he knew would give reason for the terror I had felt.

He said the house had been untenanted for some years because the room I slept in was reported to be haunted. A woman had either fallen or thrown herself from the window and had been killed, and she was said to lean over the bed. My brother utterly disbelieved the tale, and forgot it. Had he mentioned it to me I should have laughed at it and gone to bed in that room without a tremor.

Those are the facts. I cannot explain them, but in Hudson's Psychic Phenomena” there is a very possible explanation of such apparitions.

The Hooded Lady

MY father was a Nonconformist minister. In the autumn of 18— he went to reside in the country town of W——, which has the distinction of possessing a large county gaol.