Some weeks ago the Rev. Henry Hacon, M.A., of Searly Vicarage, North Kelsey Moor, wrote to me, very kindly enclosing the following interesting letter which his father, many years ago, had received from the Rev. John Stewart, M.A., at that time Rector of Sydersterne, near Fakenham.
The letter, which deals exclusively with the then very much discussed hauntings at Sydersterne Parsonage, runs thus:—
Sydersterne Parsonage,near Fakenham,May 22, 1833.
My dear Sir,
All this Parsonage circle were gratified to learn that you and your family were recovered from the late epidemic. We are very sensibleof your kind wishes, and shall be happy to see you at any time your press of business may allow you to leave Swaffham. The interest excited by the noises in our dwelling has become quite intense throughout this entire district of country. The arrivals from every quarter proved at last so utterly inconvenient that we have been obliged to decline receiving any more. We were compelled to draw the line somewhere, and we judged it could not be more sensibly done than immediately after the highly respectable authentication of the noises furnished last Thursday.
On the night preceding and the Thursday morning four God-fearing, shrewd, intelligent brother clergymen assembled at the Parsonage, and together, with a pious and accomplished lady and a medical gentleman from Holt (of eminence in his profession), joined Mrs. Stewart, my two eldest boys and myself, in watching. The clergymen were those of St. Edmund's, Norwich, of (here the writing is indiscernible owing to a tear in the MS.) Docking, and of South Creake.
At ten minutes to two on Thursday morning the noises commenced, and lasted, with very little pause, till two hours after daybreak. Theself-confident were crestfallen, and the fancied-wise acknowledged their ignorance as the sun rose high. Within the limits of any sheet of paper I could not give you even a sketch of what has taken place here. The smile of contented ignorance, or the sneer of presumption, cut but a poor figure when opposed to truth and fact—and the pharisaical cloak that is ostensibly worn to exclude "superstition" may secrete in its folds the very demon of "infidelity."
Arrangements are in progress to detect the most cunning schemes of human agency—but must be kept profoundly secret until the blow can be struck.
The magistrates, clergy, and surrounding gentry continue to arrive at the Parsonage, and offer us their public and private services in any way that can be at all considered useful. The Marquis of Cholmondeley's agent has gone to town resolved to lay the whole business before his lordship, and to suggest that a Bow Street officer should be sent down. I have likewise written to his lordship, who has been very kind to me.
You may rely upon it, that no human means (at whatever expense) shall be neglected to settlethe point as to human agency. To attain a right history of the Sydersterne noises you must read the details of (here the writing is illegible, owing to a blot), that took place in the family of the Wesleys in 1716, their Rectory being at Epworth, in Lincolnshire. The father's (the Rev. S. Wesley's) journal is transcribed by the great and good John Wesley, his son. These noises never could be accounted for.
I have already traced the existence of noises in Sydersterne Parsonage for thirty-six years back. I am told that Mr. Bullen, farmer, of Swaffham (with whom you are intimate), lived about that time at Creake (three miles from here), and recollects them occurring then. Be kind enough to ask him if he remembers of what nature they, at that period, were, and how long they continued without intermission. Favour me with the results of your enquiries. I think that but three of the generation then living now survive. The noises were here in 1797. Some ignoramus put the notices of them in theEast Anglian. In that account some things are correct, mixed up with much that is wrong. However, I have kept a regular diary or journal of all things connected with them, and which in due time shall be published.Get the solution of these questions from Mr. Bullen for me, and, lest we should be wanderers, when you purpose coming over to us, let us know by post the day you mean to visit here. On Saturday forenoon there will be a letter for James at Mr. Finch's, and which Claxton is to take.
Kind compliments from all to all under your "roof tree."
John Stewart.
Commenting upon the hauntings, the Rev. H. Hacon, M.A., in a letter to me dated June 24, 1910, says:—
"... Here you have whatever further particulars I am able to send about the haunted house. Some of them are among my earliest recollections.
"I can remember my father, when relating some of them, seeing my infant eyes expressing delicious terror, I suppose, turning the conclusion into something comic, so that I might not go to my bed in fear and trembling. When older I heard particulars from one of Mr. Stewart's sons.
"Sometimes the noises heard at the Parsonage were like the scratchings, not of a cat, but ofa tiger, on the inner walls of the house, whilst at other times they resembled a shower of copper coins promiscuously falling. One Sunday night, about the time Mr. Stewart came into residence, there were heard in the Parsonage noises like the shifting about of heavy furniture. So that one who heard the disturbances said, 'Well! I do wonder our new vicar should have his house set to rights on a Sunday!' There was not, however, a living soul in the house.
"The Stewart family were, of course, in a way, burdened by curious visitors. But being very hospitable, they were always glad to see their friends, two of whom, Swaffham contemporaries, Mr. and Mrs. Seppings, were passing the day and night there, anxious, of course, to witness some of the phenomena. As it was drawing near bedtime, Mr. Seppings, before saying good night, went to a side table to take up a bedroom candlestick, saying, 'Well! I don't suppose we shall hear anything to-night,' when, as his hand was about to grasp the candlestick, there came a stroke under the table and under the candlestick like that of a heavy hammer. Miss Stewart, the daughter of the house, after retiring to bed, would sometimes sing the Evening Hymn, when taps were heardon the woodwork of the bed beating time to the music. Mr. Stewart, whose wife's health at last became enfeebled under the stress, concluded that the phenomena were evidences of the presence of a troubled spirit, for after every effort was made to ascertain the cause of the disturbances, nothing was discovered that in any way pointed to human agency.
"The Marquis of Cholmondeley, the Patron of the Living, had the ground round the house excavated to ascertain whether there was any vault underneath the house—none, however, was found. Two Bow Street officers were sent to exercise their skill. They passed the night, armed with loaded pistols, in chambers opposite to one another. In the night, each, hearing a noise as if in the opposite chamber, came out with a loaded pistol with the intention of firing. But a mutual recognition ensuing, the catastrophe of each being shot by the other was averted.
"The house, to the best of my belief, like a number of other old parsonages, was at length pulled down and a new one built in its stead...."
In another letter my correspondent says:—"Mr. Stewart was aquasi alumnusof the greatGreek scholar, Dr. Parr, and was a man of eminent local literary celebrity. Mrs. Stewart, his wife, was a daughter of an Admiral McDougall, so there was neither in them, nor in any of their children, any peasant or bourgeois predilection to superstition about ghosts."
Upon my writing to the Rev. H. Hacon, M.A., and asking him if he had given me an exhaustive account of all the phenomena that were experienced in the Parsonage, he sent me the following list, which was a brief recapitulary of what he had already told me, with a few additions:—
(1) The sound as of a huge ball descending upon the roof and penetrating to the ground floor.
(2) A sound as of metal coin showering down from above.
(3) Scratching on the inner wall as of from the claws of a lion or tiger.
(4) On the occasion of a guest retiring for the night and putting his hand out for the night candlestick, a blow as from a hammer upon the under-side of the table where the candlestick was standing. The guest, by the way, had been expecting to hear the sounds, and was now concluding there would be none.
(5) The sound as of a hand on the woodwork of the bed, keeping time to the singing of the Evening Hymn by Mrs. Stewart's daughter, on the conclusion of the latter's daily devotions.
(6) The incident of the Bow Street officers.
(7) The incident of the shifting of the furniture.
(8) The screams as of a human being under torture.
Since after every precaution had been taken to guard against the possibility of trickery, the disturbances still continued, and were heard collectively, there can be little doubt they were superphysical. Such being the case, I am inclined to attribute them to the presence of an Elemental, though to what kind of Elemental it is impossible for me to say with any certainty, as the history of the Parsonage is unknown to me. Since, however, the disturbances do not seem to have been the precursors of any misfortune to the Stewarts, I can safely conclude that the Elemental was not a Clanogrian. It was, in all probability, either a Vice Elemental attracted thither by the past committal of some crime, or by the vicious thoughts of some former occupant, or a Vagrarian drawn to the spot by its seclusiveness or by some relic of prehistorictimes. I think the latter is the most probable, for the grotesque nature of the sounds are quite in accordance with the appearance and behaviour of the generality of Vagrarians, who usually manifest their resentment of human trespassers, on what they presume to be their special preserves, by creating all manner of alarming disturbances.
Shortly before commencing this book, hearing rumours that a certain house in the neighbourhood of the Crystal Palace was haunted, I obtained permission from the owner to sleep there, the only condition being that I should on no account give any clue as to the real identity of the place, which he was most anxious to let; and it is a fact, however incredible it may seem to sceptics, that nothing more effectually prevents a house letting than the reputation that it is haunted!
The house in question, though furnished, had been standing empty for some long time, and when I entered it alone one evening about nine o'clock, I was at once impressed with the musty atmosphere. My first act, therefore, was to open the windows on the top landing. The house consisted of three storeys and a basement, twelve bed and four reception rooms, with theusual kitchen offices. I had had no definite information as to the nature of the hauntings, so that I came to the house with a perfectly unbiassed mind, and under conditions that excluded any possibility of suggestion. I admit that, when the front door closed behind me, and I found myself in a silent, empty hall, in which the shadows of evening were fast beginning to assemble, my heart beat a little faster than usual. Confronting me was a staircase leading to all the grim possibilities of the upper landings, whilst a little on one side of it was a dark, narrow passage, from which a flight of unprepossessing stone steps led into the abyssmal depths of the basement.
After a few minutes' hesitation, glad even to hear my own footsteps, I moved across the hall, and after examining the rooms on the ground floor, ascended to those above.
All the blinds in the house being down, each room with its ponderous old-fashioned furniture presented a particularly funereal aspect, to which a startling effect was given by a few patches of brilliant moonlight, that, falling on the polished surfaces of the wardrobes, converted them into mirrors, wherein I saw the reflections of what apparently had no material counterparts.Here and there, too, in some remote angle, I saw a white and glistening something, that for a moment chilled my blood, until a closer inspection proved it to be a mere illumination on the wall or on some naturally bright object.
I have generally been able to detect, both in Silence and in Shadows, an indefinable Something that is—to me, at any rate—an almost sure indication of the near proximity of the Superphysical; and the moment I crossed the threshold of this house, I felt this indefinable Something all round me in a degree that was most marked.
The hush, indeed, which was forced and unnatural, had grown with each step I took, until now, as I involuntarily paused to listen, the pulsation of my own heart was like the rapid beating on a drum, whilst I instinctively felt that numerous other beings were holding in their breath simultaneously with mine. The shadows, too, were far from normal shadows, for as I glanced behind me, and saw them waving to and fro on the walls and floor, I was not only struck with the fact that several of them resembled nothing near at hand, nothing that could in any way be explained by the furniture,but that, wherever I went, the same few shadows glided surreptitiously behind me.
As I was about to enter one of the top attics, there was a thud, and something flew past me. I switched on my flashlight. It was a black cat—a poor stray creature with gaunt sides and unkempt coat—a great deal more frightened than I.
My investigation of the upper premises over, I descended into the basement, which, like all basements that have remained disused for any length of time, was excessively cold and damp.
There were two cellars, the one opening into the other, both pitch dark and streaming with moisture, and as I groped my way down into them by the spasmodic aid of my pocket search-light, I could not help thinking of the recent gruesome discoveries in Hilldrop Crescent.
In nine cases out of ten the origin of hauntings may be looked for in basements, the gloomy, depressing nature of which seem to have a special attraction for those Elementals that suggest crime.
And here, in the cellars, far removed from prying eyes and sunlight, here, under the clammy, broken cement floor, here was an ideal sepulchre ready for the use of any murderer.He had only to poke his nose half-way down the steps to be struck with the excellence of the idea, and to hurry back for pick and shovel to make the job complete.
The longer I lingered in the cellars, the more firmly I became convinced that they had at one time or another witnessed some secret burial. Dare I remain down there and wait for the phenomena? The heavy, fœtid atmosphere of the place hung round me like a wet rag, while the chill fumes, rising from between the crevices in the cement, ascended my nostrils and made me sneeze. If I stayed in this charnel house, I must certainly risk rheumatic fever. Then a brilliant thought struck me—I would cover the floor of the innermost cellar with cocoanut matting; there were several loose stacks of it lying in the scullery.
I did so, and the result, though not, perhaps, quite as satisfactory as I had anticipated, for the dampness was still abominable, made it at least possible for me to remain there. I accordingly perched myself on a table I had also brought from the scullery, and waited.
Minute after minute passed and nothing happened, nothing beyond a few isolated noises, such as the slamming of some far-distant door—whichslamming, as I tried to reassure myself, momentarily forgetting that the house I was in was detached, might be in the next house—and the creaking of boards, those creakings that one so seldom seems to hear in the daytime, but which one laughingly tells oneself are due to natural causes—though what those causes are is apparently inexplicable.
The wind does not blow every night, neither can it perform half of that for which it is often held responsible, neither does every house swarm with rats. Still, I do not say that what I then heard could not have been accounted for naturally—I daresay it might have been—only I was not clever enough to do it. Sceptics are usually so brilliant that one often wonders how it is they do not occupy all the foremost places in literature, science, and art—why, in fact, the smart, shrewd man, who scoffs at ghosts, is so often unheard of, whilst the poor silly believer in the superphysical is so often eminent as a scientist or author. Can it be that it is, after all, the little learning that makes the man the fool?
But to continue. The hour of midnight—that hour erroneously supposed to be the one when psychic phenomena usually show themselves—passed, and I anxiously awaited forwhat I felt every moment might now produce.
About one o'clock the temperature in the cellars suddenly grew so cold that my teeth chattered, and I then heard, as I thought, in the front hall, a tremendous crash as if all the crockery in the house had been dashed from some prodigious height in one big pile on the floor. Then there was a death-like hush, and then a jabber, jabber, jabber—apparently in the kitchen overhead—as of someone talking very fast, and very incoherently, to themselves; then silence, and then, what made me feel sick with terror, the sound of shuffling footsteps slowly approaching the head of the steps confronting me. Nearer and nearer they came, until they suddenly paused, and I saw the blurred outlines of the luminous figure of something stunted, something hardly human, and something inconceivably nasty.
It rushed noiselessly down the steps, and, brushing swiftly past me, vanished in the furthest corner of the cellar.
Feeling that nothing more would happen now, I ascended the steps, and after a final and brief survey of the premises, walked home, feeling convinced that the phenomena I had experienced were due to a Vice Elementalattracted to the house by a murder that had once been committed there, the body of the victim being interred in one of the cellars.
I was not able to visit the house again, and the owner, though acknowledging that what I had seen and heard was a recognised feature of the hauntings, refused to disclose anything further.
In accordance with a general opinion, which is unquestionably correct, it would be extremely ridiculous to dogmatise on a subject so open to controversy as Psychic Phenomena, hence my statements must not be regarded in any sense as arbitrary; they are merely views based on a certain amount of actual experience.
A phantasm, in my opinion, is a phenomena that cannot be explained by any physical laws. It is an objective—something, that can materialise and dematerialise at will, that can sometimes emit sounds, sometimes move material objects, and sometimes (though rarely) commit acts of physical violence on material objects. It can produce various sensations on living material bodies, whilst it is, in itself, though sometimes sensible and rational, as far as we know, alwaysinsensible to physical action. It can adopt a variety of different forms, and, being subject to no limitations of space and time, it can pass through opaque objects in any place and at any time.
Without any attempt at an exhaustive classification (which is, of course, impossible), I have divided the different kinds of phantasms that have come within my experience as follows:—Phantasms of the Dead, Phantasms of the Living, and Elementals, and since I have defined each of these species in another of my works, it will be sufficient for me to say here, that by Phantasms of the Dead, I mean the phantasms of every form of life that has inhabited a material body, whether human, animal, or vegetable, for I maintain that there is a spirit in everything that lives; that by Phantasms of the Living, I mean the superphysical counterpart of a living material body that can, under certain conditions not at present fully known, leave that body and manifest itself at any distance away from that body, either visually or auditorially; and that by Elementals, I mean all spirits that have never inhabited any material body.
As I have already stated, I think earth-bound spirits of the dead are confined to people whose animal propensities were far in excess of their spiritual—that is to say, whose thoughts were entirely centred on matters appertaining to the material world.
I do not suppose for one moment all such spirits would be compelled to haunt certain localities, but only the spirits of murderers, of carnal-minded suicides, of misers and other people who, when alive, were attracted to one spot by some special vice or peculiar hobby; the spirits of criminal lunatics, and vicious imbeciles, and of particularly gross and sensual people, whose phantasms are, according to some authorities (a view I do not altogether take), as bestial and savage in appearance as the people, when alive, were lustful and cruel in disposition, need not necessarily haunt one spot. That the earth-bound spirits of murderers, suicides, and grossly sensual people haunt certain localities in the shape of certain animals has been firmly believed for many centuries. According to Hartshorne, a man, who committed suicide at Broomfield, near Salisbury, came back to earthin the form of a black dog; whilst legend says that the spirit of Lady Howard, of James the First's reign, who got rid of four husbands, haunts the road from Fitzford to Oakhampton Park, in the shape of a hound.
Many spectral dogs, supposed by some to be the souls of evil-doers, are alleged to haunt the sides of pools and rivers, particularly in Devon. Mr. Dyer, in hisGhost World(p. 107) gives an instance of a haunting near Tring, where the spirit of a chimney-sweep, who murdered an old woman, was frequently seen on the site of the gibbet, on which he was hanged, in the form of a black dog. As, however, the phantasms of so many murderers and vicious people have been seen in forms more or less resembling those people when alive, I am inclined to attribute the apparitions of animals either to the earth-bound spirits of the animals themselves, or to Impersonating and Vice Elementals, whilst to the latter I attribute the entire sub-human and sub-animal type of psychic phenomenon—such, for example, as the pig-headed ghost of Guilsborough.
Whilst the spirits of bad people are thus heldto be reincarnate, in the shape of animals, in some countries there is a belief that the souls of the good remain on earth for an indefinite period in the guise of birds. In Bulgaria, for example, all souls are supposed to leave the body in the form of birds—a belief that was at one time prevalent among certain North American Indian tribes, whilst in Denmark and Germany there was at one time an almost universal belief that the advent of infants was heralded by the appearance of a stork, who brought the child's soul with it (videThorpe's Northern Mythology, i., p. 289). To my mind, it is a significant fact that from time immemorial psychism has been closely associated with the bird which, in Egyptian hieroglyphics and other symbols of the Ancients, signifies the soul.
Apropos of psychism and birds, a very curious incident happened this spring to a relative of mine with whom I was staying in the village of G——. Early one morning a large bird came to his bedroom window, and by violent tappings and flappings of its wings against the glass, attracted his attention, when it at once flew away. The previous day an old and dear friend of his (to whom he was verymuch attached) had died, and he subsequently learned that on the day of her funeral a dove had come to the window of the room in which the dead body lay, and had behaved in precisely the same manner, flying away directly it had succeeded in attracting attention. The visitation of these birds may, of course, only have been a coincidence, but if so, it was a very curious one—indeed, I am inclined to believe that in each instance the bird was a benevolent Elemental that appeared with the sole object of intimating to my relative and to those around the dead body of his friend that the soul of the latter was still alive.
Though I think it quite possible that the souls of the virtuous and spiritual-minded remain earth-bound for a short space after death, I do not think that, when once they are removed to other spheres, they can, under any circumstances, return. There can be no going back when once they have begun the slow, but sure process of spiritual evolution which will lead them to Paradise.
There is, in my opinion, abundant evidence to show that dogs, horses, and birds have spiritsthat survive death, and this being so, it is only reasonable to suppose that there is a future existence for every kind of animal and for everything, in fact, that possesses any sort of mind—though I do not believe that their spirits all go to the same sphere. A relative of mine, once a year, always hears the sound of barking over the grave of a very favourite fox-terrier, whilst another relative has on more than one occasion seen the phantasm of a black spaniel to which she was very much attached. Mr. Harper, in his book ofHaunted Houses(Chapman and Hall, 1907), gives a very interesting account of the alleged haunting of Ballechin House, Perthshire, by the phantasms of a number of dogs that had been shot on the death—and at the express desire—of a Major Stewart, the late owner of the property; whilst a lady correspondent of mine tells me that her eldest nephew has, from the time he was three years old, seen, occasionally, two thin dogs like greyhounds. To quote her own words: "They seem to come and look at him, he says. He is a most matter-of-fact person, and I do not think he has any belief in psychic matters at all. He was born in the North West Territory, where there are no dogs of that kind, and didnot come to England until he was over four years old."
In my book,The Haunted Houses of London, I gave several instances of the apparitions of animals, including that of a dear old dog of mine that appeared to me in York Road, London, and of a parrot that was seen standing on the shoulders of a lady near Clifton.
Although it is only too apparent that animals have not man's capacity for appreciating what is morally beautiful—in other words, have no souls—I think their intelligence, sagacity, and faithfulness ensures a future life of happiness to them with as great a certainty as "soul" entails a happy futurity to us. Consequently, I believe that all animals and insects have future lives, and that the spirits of all animals and insects, like the souls of men, are being continually contended for by Elementals; and that whilst the spirits of the faithful, benignant, gentle, and industrious go to the Animals' Paradise, the spirits of the cruel and savage are condemned to go to a corresponding Hades.
There is apparently, however, no very stringent law to prevent the spirits of all kinds of animals—benevolent and otherwise—from occasionally returning and materialising to us.
I have already stated that it is quite possible to separate the superphysical from the physical body, and for the former to manifest itself either visually or auditorially, or both, at any distance from the latter. The accomplishment of this act—which is called projection—is entirely a question of concentration, but of a concentration so intense that it cannot be reached—at least, such is my experience—without absolute physical quiet and total absence of mental disturbance.
The separation of the two bodies may be done consciously or unconsciously, more often the latter, and not infrequently, too, during sleep. Indeed, many cases of nocturnal hauntings have been found to be due to the phantasms of living people, who have dreamed they were visiting certain localities, and whose superphysical bodies frequently have, in very truth, visited the places in question, and thereby occasioned the hauntings.
The following is one of the many stories I have heard that would serve as an example of this kind of haunting. A Mrs. Elmore, on the occasion of her first visit to Scotland, told methat the people with whom she was staying took her to see a picturesque house near Montrose. The caretaker, on opening the door to them, turned deadly pale, and screamed out, "God help us! If it isn't the ghost come to visit me in broad daylight!" When the woman had recovered a little from her fright, she explained to them that, for some months past, the house had been haunted by an apparition the exact image of Mrs. Elmore; it had exactly the same face and figure, but was wearing different clothes, which clothes, however, when the caretaker described them, Mrs. Elmore immediately identified with certain garments she had at home.
As they proceeded to explore the house, it began to dawn on Mrs. Elmore that the face of the old woman was strangely familiar, and, on ascending the main staircase, she at once recognised the landing and passages as those she had been continually dreaming about during the past year. Pointing to one of the closed doors, she exclaimed, "That is my favourite room with the pretty blue wall paper, the blue carpet and the quaint inlaid cabinet standing opposite the foot of the old oak bedstead."
The caretaker again almost fainted in astonishment."It is just as you describe, ma'am," she exclaimed. "The De'il is in it."
And it did indeed seem like it, as Mrs. Elmore knew the upper part of the house—the part she had visited in her sleep—by heart. As a matter of fact, there is no doubt that during sleep Mrs. Elmore's superphysical body had left her material body and visited the house. In all such cases, however, as well as in cases of conscious projection, there is great danger, since, awake or asleep, we are never free from antagonistic Elementals, who would have no difficulty in seizing both our superphysical and material bodies, and appropriating the latter to their own use, were it not for the combatting and counteracting efforts of our guardian angels—the Benevolent Elementals.
All dreams, whether accompanied or unaccompanied by unconscious projections, are induced by Elementals.
Again, and again, sceptics, with would-be smartness, have said to me, "Where do ghosts get their clothes? One can imagine the spirit of a person, but not the spirit of his garments. There are surely no tailoring establishments inthe psychic world?" But this argument, if such it can be called, is of little value, since the Dead who appear would naturally assume those forms in which they were best known when living, and when on earth they were surely better known clothed than unclothed.
The clothes are not, of course, material clothes any more than the body is a material body—they are mere accessories assumed, so to speak, to make the image more complete, and to facilitate the question of identity. It is surely not difficult to understand that the Force which has the power to manifest itself at all, has the power to manifest itself in the most suitable guise. The phantasm is, after all, only the image of the spirit or soul; it is not actually the spirit or soul itself, any more than the man we see walking about Regent Street in a silk hat and frock-coat is actually the man himself; the latter is an abstract quantity, compounded of spirit, soul, and intelligence—what we see is merely an outward concrete form, whereby we are able to identify that abstract quantity. So it is with the superphysical ego. To identify it we must either see or feel it, and thus to those of us who have sight, it appears in a form with which some of us, at least, are familiar—theform that was once common to its material body; hence clothes—illusionary clothes—are necessary appendages.
It is not so with certain orders of Elementals: having no identity to prove, they manifest themselves—nude.
As I have already stated, where suicides and murdered people have led gross lives, the hauntings are undoubtedly due to their earth-bound spirits; but where they have been benevolent and pure-minded people, then the phenomena experienced after their deaths may be attributed to Elementals.
Elementals—namely, those spirits that have never had material bodies, human or animal—are either benevolent, antagonistic, or neutral, and are subjected to the supervision of those Higher Occult Forces that are responsible for the creation of Nature. I do not think it feasible that the same Powers (or Power) that created all that is beneficial to man, created alsoall that is obnoxious to him. If Man were the only sufferer, then one could attach some credence to the story of the Fall, though there would be little enough justice in it then; but when one considers the vast amount of suffering that has always been endured by all forms of animal life, the Biblical version of the Garden of Eden degenerates into a mere myth as unjust as it is fanciful. Whatever man may have done to have brought upon himself thousands of years of the most hideous sufferings, it is ludicrous to suppose that animals and insects also sinned! And therefore, since to me the terms Almighty and Merciful, and Almighty and Just, are utterly irreconcilable when applied to the Creator of this material world, I can only assume that there was not one Creative Force, but many, and that whilst some (probably the majority) of these Forces (none of which are supreme, for if one were Omnipotent, then the others would assuredly cease to exist) have always been diametrically opposed to one another in their attitude towards all forms of animal life, others have remained indifferent and neutral. Of these Creative Forces, some, whom I will designate the Benevolent Powers, wished both man and beast to live for ever in perfect happiness,whilst others, whom I will designate the Evil Powers, wished both man and beast to die. Some sort of a compromise was therefore arranged by which the contending Forces agreed that all forms of animal life should die, and that the material body should be succeeded by the superphysical, for the possession of which both Forces must contend. The Benevolent Powers would strive to transfer superphysical man, after subjecting him to the thorough process of spiritual evolution to their own particular sphere, namely, Paradise, whilst the Evil Powers would strive to keep superphysical man permanently bound to this Earth, namely, Purgatory; hence there would be a constant struggle between them, a struggle in which each opposing Force would resort to every conceivable device to secure the souls and spirits of both man and beast.
To the Benevolent Creative Powers, then, we owe everything that tends to man's happiness (and what is more necessary to real happiness than temperance and morality), whilst to the Evil Creative Powers are due all diseases, crimes, and cruelties—everything, in fact, that is injurious to health and responsible for suffering, either mental or physical.
I think I have elsewhere stated in my definitionof Benevolent Elementals that they would seem to be identical with the good fairies of our childhood's days, and with the angels in the Bible. In any case they are employed by the Higher Occult Powers friendly to man, and are always with us, trying to keep us in the paths of virtue, and guarding us from physical danger.
Vice Elementals, on the other hand, are employed by the Higher Occult Powers inimical to man, and are also always with us, trying to persuade us to do everything that harms us mentally, morally, and physically, and that, in a like manner, indirectly injures our neighbours.
Vice Elementals appear in every variety of form, from beautiful, captivating women and handsome, insinuating men, to the grossest and most terrifying caricatures of both man and beast; for example, pig-headed men, monstrous dogs (such as "The Mauthe Dog" of Peel Castle, Isle of Man; the Kirk-grim of Scandinavia, which is sometimes a dog and sometimes a horse or pig); the Gwyllgi of Wales; huge bears (such as the famous "bear" ghost of the Tower of London), and many other mal-shaped forms of man and beast.
Whereas, however, the more prepossessing type of this class of Elemental roams everywhere, the more terrible are usually confined to places where crimes have been committed and impure thoughts conceived.
These Elementals, which I have already described, are merely survivals of experiments at life, prior to the selection of any definite forms of man and beast; they were created by the neutral Powers, and their attitude to man (whom they shun as much as possible), though spiteful and mischievous, is prompted by nothing actually sinister.
These Phantasms are the Agents of the Evil Creative Powers. Always hideous in appearance, they create all manner of malignant bacilli, and are responsible for all diseases and illness, which they often delight in predicting.
Why there should be a particular type of Elemental attached to certain families it is difficult to say. Some people think it is solely on account of the dreadful crimes perpetratedby members of these families in past days; but if that were the case, what family would be exempt, since there can be very few amongst us who could positively assert that no ancestor of his had ever committed a murder! I think it more likely, that, at one time, Man was in much closer touch with the Creative Powers than he is now, and that certain families, as a mark of friendship, or otherwise, had Clanogrians attached to them (by both the Benevolent and Antagonistic Powers), with the express purpose of warning them of physical danger, and that in course of time, as the relationship between the Higher Powers and man grew more distant, the functions of these Family Elementals became fewer and fewer, until at length they consisted solely of Death warnings, as is now the case.
It would seem that certain houses, such, for example, as Knebworth and the one in which Mrs. Wright (whose case I have already mentioned) lived, as well as families, have ghosts attached to them that have the power of warning people of their approaching doom.
It is, of course, quite possible that these ghosts were once attached to people, either living in those houses, or in some way connected with them, and, that leaving those people, they tookup their freed abode in the houses, continuing, however, their function of Death Warning. On the other hand, they may be a type of Vagrarian who, being brought to the house with some antique piece of furniture, resolve to take up their abode in it. As this type of Elemental prefers solitude, it would naturally take every means in its power to insure it. Or, again, they may be a type of Elemental closely allied to Morbas, who are attracted to these houses by crimes once committed there (for I think when once a murder has been committed no Benevolent Powers can prevent Vice and other antagonistic Elementals from taking up their abode on the spot), and who have the power committed to them to bring about all manner of catastrophes fatal to the material inmates of the house; hence houses where death warnings of the nature of phantom clocks have been heard should be studiously avoided.
One of the functions of Impersonating Elementals, as I have already stated, is to perform therôlesboth of the victim of murder and of suicide, though only in those cases where the spirits of the murdered person and thesuicide are not themselves earth-bound. These Elementals would seem to be Neutrals, or spirit properties, employed alike by the Benevolent and Antagonistic Forces. In cases of suicide, for example, they would be employed by the Benevolent Forces with the object of warning people against self-destruction; and, at the same time, they might be employed by the Antagonistic Forces with the object of leading people on to self-destruction.
I think Impersonating Elementals sometimes manifest themselves at Spiritualisticséances, when they appear as relatives and friends of the sitters, and are pronounced to be such by the "controls."
In dreams, too, Impersonating Elementals frequently find constant employment, assuming every variety of guise—indeed, dreams, as I have already remarked, are completely under the control of Benevolent, Impersonating, and Antagonistic Elementals.
Under this heading are included all Impersonating Elementals, some Clanogrians, and the greater number of Vagrarians, Pixies, and Fire Elementals.
All superphysical spirits, whether earth-bound spirits of the dead or Elementals, have the power of materialisation, though the conditions under which they may do so vary considerably. What the conditions actually are, is quite unknown at present to physical man.
I think the seeing, hearing, or feeling of psychic phenomena is determined by the Phenomena themselves, and that the latter themselves select the person to whom they wish to become manifest—hence there is no actual psychic faculty. I have, for example, in a haunted house, seen the phenomenon on one night and not on another, though on both occasions other people in the room have witnessed it. There are no end of other instances, too, in which people, who see apparitions on one occasion, do not see them on another, although the manifestations are of a precisely similar nature.
Phantom coaches, clocks, ships, etc., are merely illusionary accessories to help carry outthe design of Elementals. A coach was said at one time to haunt a road in Monmouthshire, and there are numerous cases of similar hauntings in different parts of England.
From time to time, too, phantom ships are reputed to have been seen off the North Cornish coast, whilst there is hardly a coast in the world that has not been visited by them. As they are usually seen before maritime catastrophes, they undoubtedly belong to the order of Clanogrians, with which I accordingly classify them.
In certain mining districts, after work hours, the miners say they hear the sounds of knocking and picking proceeding from the levels they have just vacated, and they declare it is "The Buccas" at work, the Buccas being a species of Neutral Elemental (closely allied to the Pixie) peculiar to mines. I have never heard of any of the miners seeing the Buccas, though several have spoken to me of the noises they have heard.
Deserted old mines are often alleged to be haunted, and I have been told that if one stands by the mouth of an empty shaft on a still night, one can hear the rolling of the Buccas' barrows and the thud, thud, of the Buccas' picks.Interesting accounts of similar phenomena are given in Carne'sTales of the Westand Hunt'sPopular Romances of the West of England.
Another species of ghost, allied, perhaps, to the Clanogrian, is a blue, luminous hand that appears in various parts of the mine before a catastrophe; sometimes it is seen climbing ropes, sometimes resting on the edge of one of the cages, and sometimes hovering in mid-air with a finger pointed at the doomed men.
Certain mines in France are haunted by a white hare that appears with the same purport, whilst in Germany the miners are haunted by Elementals of the Pixie order, called respectively Kobolds and Knauffbriegen, that play all sorts of mischievous pranks (very often of a dangerous nature) on the miners. Mines are, in addition, of course, subjected to all the ordinary forms of hauntings.
In all parts of the world there is a firm belief among many of the people living in lonely spots on the coast, that the sea and rocks are haunted by the earth-bound spirits of the drowned, and often when I have been walking alone at night along the cliffs or sandy beaches between Budeand Clovelly, and Lamorna and the Land's End, Dalkey and Bray and Lunan Bay, I have heard the rising and falling of ghostly voices from over the deserted, star-lit sea—voices that may either have come from the superphysical bodies of those who lay engulfed there, or from Impersonating Elementals.
I have repeatedly heard it said that in the grey hours of the morning all sorts of queer filmy shapes rise out of the sea and glide over the silent strand.
Mr. Dyer, in hisGhost World, refers to "The Bay of the Departed" in Brittany, where boatmen are summoned by some unseen power to launch their boats and to ferry to some island near at hand the souls of the men who have been drowned. In this bay, too, the wails and cries of the phantasms of shipwrecked sailors are clearly heard in the dead of night. So strong is the antipathy of the seafaring community in many parts of Brittany to the sea coast that none will approach it after nightfall.
Mr. Hunt, in hisRomances of West of England, says that one night when a fisherman was walking along the sands at Porth-Towan, he suddenly heard a voice cry out three timesfrom the sea, "The hour is come, but not the man," whereupon a black figure, like that of a man, appeared on the top of the hill, paused for a moment, and then, rushing impetuously down the steep incline, over the sand, vanished amid the gently lapping waves.
The figure, of course, may have been the actual earth-bound spirit of someone who was once drowned in that spot, or it may have been an impersonating or Vice Elemental attracted to that spot by some tragedy that had taken place there; since I have heard of many similar instances of tall, thin figures bounding over cliffs or across sandy beaches, vanishing in the sea, I conclude such phenomena are by no means uncommon.
In certain parts of the Norfolk coast it is still, I believe, affirmed that before any person is drowned a voice is heard from the sea predicting a squall, and a great reluctance is still shown in many countries to rescue anyone from drowning, since it is popularly supposed that the drowning person will at some time or another injure his rescuer—an idea which should certainly be discouraged, whether there is any truth in it or not. But the sea certainly has a peculiar fascination for most people, and, I feel sure, itpossesses a species of Elemental peculiar to itself. Those Elementals probably resent the rescue of their would-be victims, and use the latter as a means of wreaking their vengeance on the rescuer!
Cases of trees haunted by particularly grotesque kinds of phantasms (presumably Vagrarians, Vice Elementals, and Neutrals) are numerous.
A few years ago, a Mrs. Cayley told me that when riding along a certain road in India, she had the greatest difficulty in making her horse pass a particular tree, and that on mentioning the matter to a native servant, the man at once exclaimed, "Allah preserve you, mem-sahib, from ever passing near that tree. A dog-faced man sits at the base of the trunk, and, with his long arms outstretched, watches for passers-by. He springs upon them, half frightens them to death, and overwhelms them with misfortune. If ever you come within the clutches of the dog-faced spirit, mem-sahib, you will shortly afterwards meet with some dire calamity. The horse has second sight, mem-sahib; it can see the spiritand its evil nature, and has no desire to place either itself or you within its clutches. Be wise, mem-sahib, and never go near that tree!"
Mrs. Cayley, however, was not wise. Laughing at the Indian's credulity, she immediately saddled her horse, and riding to the tree, compelled the reluctant and terrified animal to pass under its branches. Just as it did so, Mrs. Cayley felt an icy current of air pass right through her, and, glancing down, saw, to her horror, a misty something crouching against the trunk of the tree and peering up at her. She couldn't tell what it was, its shape being altogether too indistinct, but from the fact that it impressed her with sensations of the utmost terror and loathing, she realised that it was something both diabolical and malignant. At this moment her horse shied, and she knew nothing more till she found herself with a sprained ankle, lying on the ground close to the tree. Her terror was then so great that, without daring to look round, she rolled over and over till she had got from under cover of the branches, when, despite the pain caused by her injury, she got up and hobbled home.
That evening a very near relative of hers was accidentally shot, and within the week herfavourite brother died from the effects of sunstroke!
The ghost in this case was either a Vice Elemental attracted to the tree by some tragedy once enacted there, or a phantasm of the malignant order of Clanogrian.
Hauntings of a similar nature are not uncommon in Ireland.
According to certain North American Indian tribes, trees have spirits of their own, which resemble beautiful women, whilst in Greece certain trees are haunted by "Stichios" (seeSuperstitions of Modern Greece, by M. Le Baron d'Estournelles), a malignant kind of Vagrarian or Clanogrian that wreaks vengeance on anyone or anything venturing to sleep beneath the branches.
In Australia, too, the Bushmen often shun trees, declaring them to be haunted by demons that whistle in the branches. Whether this is true or not, many trees are haunted, and the phantasm that most commonly haunts them is undoubtedly the sub-human and sub-animal type of Vice Elemental—such as was seen by Mrs. Cayley on the day her relative was accidentally shot and shortly before her brother succumbed to sunstroke.
The transference of thought from one mind to another without any other medium than air is an established fact—such communications are of daily occurrence. At present, however, the communications usually take place without any conscious endeavour on the part of the transmitter, or knowledge of actual reception on the part of the receiver.
For example, a certain Mr. Philpotts, with whom I am acquainted, when on a visit to London, was wishing very earnestly one morning that his wife, whom he had left at home, would go into his study and write a letter in reply to one which he had forgotten to answer. On his return home next day, he found to his astonishment that at the very time he had been thinking of the letter, his wife had actually gone into the study and penned it. Up to that moment, she had had no intention of going into the study, and no idea that any letter there needed an answer.
Instances like this are numerous. The questions now arise as to whether it is possible for the transmitter of the thoughts to raise in the recipient's mind visions which might be thoughtto be objective, and that if such a process should be possible, if it would not account for many of the so-called superphysical phenomena?
In instances where phenomena are seen individually,i.e., where they manifest themselves to single individuals, I think it possible, but not probable, that they may be due to telepathy; but where the demonstrations take place, either visually or auditorially, before a number of people, several of whom are conscious of them, then those demonstrations are without doubt objective, and consequently in no way traceable to telepathic communication. This being so, why, then, should not all such demonstrations, whether manifesting themselves individually or collectively, be objective?
In the case of Miss D., a case I have already mentioned in reference to projection, the phenomenon was without a doubt objective. Four of us suddenly saw what we all took to be the natural body of Miss D. descend the staircase, pass between us, open a door and slam it behind her, the fact of her disappearance—there being no exit from the room she had entered and into which we had immediately followed her—proving beyond question that what we had seen was her superphysical body. She was actually a longdistance from the house at the time of the occurrence, and could not remember thinking either of us or the house, so that the separation of her superphysical from her physical body must have taken place unconsciously. I had a decided impression of her dress as it swept over my feet during her descent of the staircase. We were all busily engaged in discussing our programme for the day when the phantasm appeared, and had, certainly, not been thinking of Miss D.
I do not think, then, that Phantasms of the Living are in any way attributable to telepathy, but that, like all other phantasms, they are purely superphysical. I have often been to haunted houses where the nature of the haunting was entirely unknown to me, and witnessed the same phenomena that I have subsequently learned have been experienced by countless other people. This has happened to me individually and collectively; collectively when my companions have been in as complete ignorance as to the nature of the manifestations as myself. Indeed, in most of my investigations I am accompanied by pronounced sceptics, who are, in addition, complete strangers to the neighbourhood. Hence there can be no question,under these circumstances, either of telepathy or suggestion.
As I have already inferred, I think it quite likely that genuine superphysical manifestations do, at times, take place at spiritualisticséances, but I am convinced that all such phenomena are confined to earth-bound spirits of the Dead, and Impersonating and Vice Elementals. For this reason I think constant, or even casual, attendance atséancesis a very dangerous thing, as, not content with appearing at theséance, these undesirable Elementals will attach themselves to the sitters, accompanying them home and wherever they may go, with the sole object of doing them mischief; and when once attached, they will not easily, if ever, be got rid of.
I am often asked if I know of a materialising medium who is above the suspicion of trickery. I do not. There is no medium that I have ever met, or even heard of, that has not at times (at all events) resorted to fraudulent means of producing phenomena.
If spirits can manifest themselves in haunted houses without the assistance of a medium, or the necessity of sitting round tables with joinedhands, or facing "curtained off" recesses or mysterious cabinets—why cannot they thus simply manifest themselves at aséance? To my mind the reason is obvious, since the genuine superphysical manifestations cannot be summoned at will by any medium, the latter, rather than allow his audience to go away unsatisfied, invariably makes use of conditions, under cover of which—failing the genuine phenomenon—he can always produce a fraudulent representation.
The stock-in-trade of many spiritualisticséancesseems to be an Indian, who executes a wild dance and speaks in a Hill dialect only known to one or two people in the room (confederates, of course), a beautiful girl who was once a very naughty nun, or hospital nurse, and several soldiers stated to have been killed in recent wars and who are anxious to materialise. This, however, they do not do, as one or two ladies in the audience (confederates again) declare they dare not under any circumstances behold bullet wounds and sabre cuts—a protest that at once meets with the approval of the "control," who bids the soldiers remain invisible, and talk only. The sound of voices is then heard proceeding from behind a heavy curtain that ishung across the recess of a window conveniently left open. Sometimes, a number of feet are seen moving backwards and forwards under the curtain, and, occasionally, a very ugly but unmistakeably material head (wearing a mask) is poked through between the drawn curtains, much, of course, to the horror of the more timid of the audience, who are only too ready to believe the declaration of the medium and his confederates, that the head is that of some Earth-bound Spirit.
The darkness of the room—forséancesare seldom held in the light—facilitates every manner of trickery, whilst the window, cabinet, and door all furnish easy means of entrance and exit.
The knockings on the table and the banging of tambourines are, as I have proved over and over again, invariably the work either of the medium himself or of confederates amongst the audience.
The trumpets that blow on the walls are generally manipulated by someone outside the room, and the sound that apparently comes from them, often, in reality, proceeds from an entirely different quarter.
I think, however, that genuine spirits dooccasionally materialise, but that when they do, it is as much to the terror of the medium as of his audience. The fear inspired by abona-fidesuperphysical demonstration is a very different thing to that produced by a bogus one—the sensations are absolutely unlike, and anyone who has once beheld a spontaneous psychic materialisation in a genuinely haunted house cannot be deceived by the doll-like make-beliefs at spiritualisticséances.
Though I have never been able to obtain any very definite results myself with planchette, I have no doubt genuine spirit messages are obtained in this way, and that such messages are always suggested by Elementals. But since these messages cannot be relied upon, owing to the fact that it is impossible to tell by what order of Elementals they are suggested, I think automatic writing is sheer waste of time.
Last year, when I was investigating at a notorious haunted house in the West of England, the ghost suddenly and quite unexpectedly appeared in our midst. There were several ofus present, and we were all much alarmed, as I believe one always is in the presence of the Unknown. I addressed the phenomenon, challenging it in the name of God and adjuring it to speak; there was, however, no response of any kind, and I think it extremely doubtful if it understood what I said, or even if it heard me.
I have done this on other occasions, and always with the same result—the phenomenon has remained totally unaffected by my words.
I know also of a case in which a Roman Catholic priest tried to lay a spirit, with the startling result that the spirit (figuratively speaking) laid him, for on his mumbling out some form of exorcism, it stretched out a grotesque and shadowy hand, and he fell face downwards on his bed, unable to utter a sound or move a muscle.
I have, however, heard instances in which phantasms have been "laid" by the repetition of prayers, and so can only conclude that the possibility of laying a ghost depends entirely on conditions about which we know nothing.
Whereas I think it highly probable that oral communication may sometimes be held with rational Phantasms of the Dead with possiblebeneficial results on one or both sides, no mode of address produces other than an irritating effect on Phantasms of the Insane; there is no consistency whatever in the result of exhortation on Elementals.
Whether the spirit of an insane person is earth-bound, or not, depends entirely on the cause of the malady. If the insanity is due to long indulgence in vice, or if it is hereditary, then I think the spirit of the mad person is earth-bound; but if the disease is the result of a shock or of something not brought about by vicious indulgences, and the sufferer had been perfectly pure-minded before the affliction, then his spirit is certainly not earth-bound. The former species of insanity would be the work of Vice Elementals and Morbas, and the latter of Morbas only.
The ghosts of idiots are, in my opinion, always earth-bound, and few forms of hauntings are more horrible than those in which the manifestations are due to Imbeciles—a by no means uncommon occurrence.