Part 18

BOSCOMBE

IN the wartime I spent a holiday in a Dorset village, and the first night, whilst sleeping in a bedroom in a lonely cottage, I was awakened by the door noiselessly opening, and the figure of a man dressed in white garments passing through the room and talking softly to himself. There was only a woman in the cottage and she was fast asleep.

A year after, I read in some old memoirs of two of Nelson's lieutenants who, whilst ashore at Weymouth, met two women and accompanied them home. During supper they quarrelled, and one woman threw a flat-iron at Lieutenant ——— and killed him. His companion was horrified and, urging the women to be silent, he took the body on his horse to a lonely spot in Dorset, and buried it and rejoined his ship.

The spot where the lieutenant was buried was the spot on which stands the cottage in which I had this strange experience.

CROYDON

SOME years ago, whilst spending a night in an old inn, I was awakened by the disagreeable impression that I was not alone. To my amazement, at the foot of my bed (an old-fashioned four-poster), stood a girl, with a baby in her outstretched arms. Her eyes were fixed imploringly on mine, as though begging for help or protection. I noticed that she had a mob cap on her head, and a quaint wrapper of some fashion unknown to me.

I begged her to tell me what I could do for her, but she made no reply, and, a moment later, she had disappeared.

I rose at once and searched the room. Door and windows were securely fastened, and I could find no trace of my mysterious visitor. Convinced at last that I had been dreaming, I returned to bed. Presently, the woman with her baby reappeared, this time at the side of the bed! She spoke no word, but, with the same expression of anguish, gazed imploringly at me. Then she vanished. When for the third time, I became aware of her presence beside my pillow, I was seized with terror and called loudly for help. Then I must have fainted for, when I came to myself, it was broad daylight. When questioned, my hostess could give me no explanation. She admitted, however, that she had heard my cries, but that neither she nor her servants dared enter the chamber after nightfall. The room was supposed to be haunted, and other visitors had seen the woman and her baby as described by me. The inn has since been pulled down and a hostel erected in its place.

LEVERSHULME

MY father became tenant of the Manor House in a village in the Midlands and moved in with mother and six children, five girls (including me) and one boy. I was then twelve years old. Many were the warnings kindly given to us by the villagers that the house was haunted, but, being a merry family, and father and brother keen on shooting, they laughingly warned off any intruders from outside. We younger were not so dubious. The rooms were large and opened off long passages and had an eerie effect, especially at night.

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

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

WIDNES

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

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

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

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

TEMPLECOMBE

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

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

SOUTH WALES

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

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

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

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

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

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

CLAPHAM