Part 7

I sat by his side through the night, having travelled across the Channel to see him, as the authorities had arranged for the same in serious cases.

He was a bootmaker by trade, as was his father; both working the business. In his delirium he was back home in the shop. His bed was close to the boards of the Army hut. He would fix his gaze on these boards and then swing his fist with three distinct knocks, after which he would push the palm of his flat hand up the boards, thus producing a peculiar squeaking noise. My father, home in England, was working late in the shop; there came three distinct knocks on the window, followed by the peculiar sound of someone pushing their flat hand up the window. Thinking it was somebody playing a joke he shouted, but got no answer. After a little while, it was repeated; he went outside to see who it might be, but there was no one visible, and, although by no means a nervous man, or superstitious, he felt a something, and could not proceed with his work. On my arrival home, after ten days' absence, he related his experience to me. Then everything seemed linked up. No wireless could have been more direct. My brother’s hand on the board in France had produced its effect on the shop window in North Bucks.

Other Stories In Brief

“WE DO NOT COMPREHEND”

I am not superstitious nor a believer in spiritualism, and yet I believe there is something connected with the after life which we do not comprehend.

In far-away Co. Roscommon, is the town of Frenchpark and, close to the town, a very ancient residence—the family seat of the famous Frenches—occupied by Lord De Freyne. One night, accompanied by my brother, I walked along by the demesne wall, and came face to face with old Lord De Freyne (who had died long years previous)—a tall thin figure, as we knew him in life. He appeared to pass through the closed gates and walk up the drive towards the house. The following morning brought the sad news that young Lord De Freyne and his brother, the Hon. George French, had both been killed in action out in France.

THE following experience occurred towards the end of 1918.

During the Armistice I was released from internment at Ruhleben and went to stay for a few weeks with my sister at Evesham. At that time, my fiancée (since become my wife), whom I had not seen for the whole course of the war, was still in Italy with the American Red Cross. On getting up one morning, I happened to look out of the window and, to my astonishment, saw my fiancée walking along the pavement towards the house where I was. The figure was so real that, although to my certain knowledge she was still in Italy, I imagined that, by some means or other, she had come on a flying visit to see me, even though, as far as I was aware, she did not know my present address. I watched her coming along, and saw her open the gate and walk up the path, and then I distinctly heard a rap with the knocker on the front-door. I hurried up with my toilet and rushed downstairs, thinking to find her in the breakfast-room. However, there was no one there, but, thinking that she might have been shown into the drawing-room, I looked in there too, only to find it empty also. Perplexed as to what had become of her, I made inquiries, but was informed that no knock had been heard, and no one had been admitted. As it afterwards turned out, my fiancée was still in Italy.

A LOVER'S VISION

I HAD a lover, whose love had a quality that seemed to disregard entirely the ordinary separation imposed by distance or stone walls. During the years that we were lovers, I often felt his invisible presence, although we were miles apart.

During the war, we were both in France. One morning early, I was preparing in my room to go on a train journey to meet him. He was a hundred miles away. I was hurrying, thinking of nothing but the necessity of catching the train, and answering the girls who were calling to me from other rooms to make haste, when I suddenly turned to the door as though impelled to do so. My lover entered with the quick eager impulsiveness which was his outstanding characteristic; straight up to me he came, put his hand on mine with a close, warm clasp, and was gone again—vanished in the same moment. I learned later that he had been taken prisoner that morning. His appearance had been absolutely natural, and had caused me not the slightest sensation of fear; my heart leapt to meet him, only I felt him to be disturbed and unhappy and that troubled me. He had not been injured and still lives.

“IN THE LENGTHENING OF THE DAYS”

My youngest brother joined up in 1914, and was sent to Salisbury Plain. Not long after his leaving home, very early one morning, somewhere between half-past one and two o'clock, I lay wide awake, and, to my astonishment, I saw him walk into our bedroom and go to the side of my invalid sister's bed, face her, turn, give a step towards the foot, turn again and salute her, and then lay down by her side. I screamed with fright, a most horrible scream, and as I did so, the vision vanished. I also awoke all the household to whom I had to tell what had frightened me so terribly. My people would have it that it was only a dream, although I knew it was not.

Shortly after that, my mother received a telegram saying that he was ill and coming home. I am glad to say that to-day, he is alive and well.

At the time I spoke to my mother again about the vision and she told me that I had seen my brother in the lengthening of the days, which meant he would live to a very old age.

A PASSIONATE LONGING

DURING the Egyptian Campaign, my mother had an experience which I have never been able to explain with satisfaction to myself. One night she was lying awake when she saw the bedroom door open and my brother, who was serving with the forces in Egypt, walk up to the bedside and gaze at her with an intense wistfulness in his expression. After both had remained motionless for some moments, my brother retraced his footsteps, and vanished through the doorway.

My mother was so impressed with the apparition, that she took note of the date and the time, feeling sure that some fatality had occurred to my brother.

When the war was over, and my brother returned home again, he dressed up in his uniform with sand-goggles, etc., and my mother at once recognised the dress as that worn by the apparition. On comparing notes, it was found that my brother was seriously ill of dysentery at that particular time and, fearing a fatal termination, was controlled by a passionate longing for the presence of his mother.

AN UNBELIEVER’S DOUBTS

GHOSTS, I personally do not believe in, but this is perfectly true. During the war, I was stationed for a short period at an empty convalescent camp, bordering the sea on the French coast. Our duty was to guard this, and, at night, we were a double guard—one held the main entrance, the other paraded the whole camp—a most desolate and wild affair amongst sand dunes and fir trees. My duty fell for this roving commission, and, wandering around, I felt compelled to enter the wood, and gaze at the camp from outside. The night was fair, with a moon casting long shadows, and, imagine my astonishment to behold a most weird apparition gliding effortless before me. I was struck dumb with surprise mingled with fear, but, remembering my loaded rifle and bayonet, I pulled myself together and investigated. It appeared to vanish, and, to my great surprise, straight through one of the hospitals. I searched, but in vain, and saw nothing more. Whether I was wrong, whether I saw something, I know not to this day.

THE WOMAN BY THE GRAVE

THIS is an account of my experience whilst in Germany as a prisoner of war in 1914, at Sennelager, near Paderborn. I was captured at Mons, on Sunday, August 23rd, 1914. I belonged to the 2nd Battalion, Royal Irish Regiment, and one of my comrades died from exposure early in October of that year. Volunteers were asked to attend his funeral, and of these I was one. The place where he was buried was a wild, desolate moor. The morning of the funeral was very cold and sleet was falling. We were a very miserable crowd as we stood by the graveside whilst the English chaplain read the Burial Service over our dead comrade. Suddenly, there stood with us a woman who remained until the service was over. There is nothing strange in that you will think, but the point is that none of us saw her until she stood with us and none saw her go. Our comrade was a married man, and what we all want to know is have we ever seen a ghost?

P.S.—We received a letter from his widow some months after, dated before his death, imploring him for God's sake to write to her. She had a child very ill in St. Thomas's Hospital.

MANSFIELD

In November, 1916, my son, eighteen and a half years old, went to the war, being sent out to France. The scene I wish to relate happened a week before the Easter of 1917. It was a Friday. I spent a most miserable, uneasy day. When dad came home at tea-time I was nearly frantic. However, he assured me all was well, and, retiring about eleven o'clock, I put the bedclothes over my shoulders expecting to sleep, when three sharp jerks pulled the clothes right off my shoulder. This was repeated twice. The third time, I tucked them under my arm and held them tight and waited to find out the cause. Then my son walked into the bedroom and came up to me. He was in uniform, excepting cap. His left hand was in his pocket. With the other he snatched my hand, gripped it twice and shouted, “Mother, Mother!”

The following week I heard from him. He went into battle about the time of my vision and was wounded. The same thing happened each time he was wounded—four times. It has always been a mystery to me. Each time the vision was so realistic and he always had the wounded part bandaged.

PORTSMOUTH