intensified when I recognised for the first time that the figure
confronting me bore a startling likeness to one of the prisoners it had
been my unhappy lot to address prior to his execution: there was the
same hair, brows and beard--black and stubby; the protruding forehead
and retreating chin that had so repelled me, the malshaped head and
the broken, unsavoury-looking teeth; it was indeed the ghost of one of
those diabolical miscreants that stood before me, and, despite the fact
that I was brought up in the strict Protestant faith, I inadvertently
crossed myself.
“The spectre went on without apparently heeding my action.
“‘It had been,’ so it proclaimed, ‘the principal and ringleader of
the gang, most of whom it had corrupted, debauched and seduced to
that deplorable method of life, and it was particularly appointed by
Providence to undeceive the world and remove those doubts which the
solemn protestations of their innocence to the very hour of death had
raised in the minds of all who heard them.’
“At this juncture, excitement overcoming fear and aversion, I hazarded
to inquire of the phantasm its name.
“Its reply, delivered in the same slow, measured, almost mechanical
tones (as if it were only the mouth-organ of some other and unseen
agency) was to the effect that its name was John Croxford; that it
had express directions to come to me--directions it could not disobey;
it furthermore explained the reason the murderers had so persistently
insisted on their innocence, lay in the fact, that, while the blood
of their victim was still warm, they entered into a sacramental
obligation, which they sealed by dipping their fingers in the blood of
the deceased and licking the same, by which they bound themselves under
the penalty of eternal damnation never to betray the fact themselves
nor to confess, if condemned to die for it on the evidence of others,
and that they were further encouraged to such measures, since, as
Seamark himself was a confederate in the murder, they concluded the
evidence of his wife would not be admitted; that as the child was so
young, they presumed no judge or jury would pay the least regard to his
depositions; that as Butlin had but lately entered into a confederacy
with them, and no robberies could be readily proved against him, they
thought it would appear impossible for one of his age to begin a career
of wickedness with murder (it being observed in a proverb that no man
is abandoned all at once); that if they could invalidate the evidence
on behalf of Butlin it must be of equal advantage to them all; that
though disappointed of this view in court and condemned to die upon the
above evidence, they were still infatuated with the same notion even
at the gallows, and expected a reprieve for Butlin when the halter was
about his neck, and consequently, if such a reprieve had been granted,
as the evidence was as full and decisive against Butlin as against
them, the sentence for the murder must have been withdrawn from all,
their execution deferred, and perhaps transportation only their final
punishment.”
Though listening to every word with abnormal attention, I became at the
same time aware of a strange and uncanny feeling that the identity of
the phantasm was but partly revealed to me in the corpse-like figure
opposite; what its true and entire nature might be I dared not even
hazard a conjecture.
In the pause that followed its last speech, more to hear myself speak
than anything else (I could not endure the silence of THIS THING), I
asked if the evidence of the woman and child was clear, punctual and
particular; to which it replied, “It was as circumstantial, distinct
and methodical as possible; varying not in the least from truth in any
one particular of consequence, unless in the omission of their horrid
sacrament which she might possibly neither observe nor know.”
I then asked why they had behaved with such impropriety, impudence and
clamour upon their trial; to which it replied, “that they had been
somewhat elevated with liquor, privately conveyed to them, and that by
effrontery and a seemingly undaunted behaviour they hoped to intimidate
the WOMAN, throw her into confusion, perplex her depositions, thereby
rendering the evidence precarious and inconclusive, or at least give
the court some favourable presumptions of their innocence.”
I next inquired whether they knew the name of the person murdered,
whence he came, and what reasons they had for committing so horrid a
barbarity.
To which the phantasm answered, “that the man was a perfect stranger to
them all, that the murder was committed more out of wantonness and the
force of long-contracted habits of wickedness than necessity, as they
were at that time in no want of money; that they first found occasion
to quarrel with the pedlar through a strange propensity to mischief for
which it could not account but from God’s withdrawing His grace, and
leaving them to all the extravagance and irregularities of a corrupted
heart, long hardened in the ways of sin; that the man, being stout and
undaunted, resented their ill-usage, and in his own defence proceeded
to blows; that two only--Deacon and Croxford--were at first concerned,
but finding him resolute, they had called up Seamark and Butlin, who
were at a distance behind the hedge; that they then all seized the
pedlar, notwithstanding which he struggled with great violence to the
very last against their united efforts; nor did they think it safe to
trifle any longer with a man who gave such proofs of uncommon strength;
that with much difficulty they dragged him down to Seamark’s yard and
there committed the murder as represented in court.”
I next asked if there was any licence in his bags or pockets, that they
might discover his name or place of abode.
It replied, “No! that the paper left behind in its (Croxford’s)
writing was of a piece with the rest of their conduct in this affair,
a hardened untruth, abounding with reflections as false, as scandalous
and wicked, suggested by the Father of Lies, who had gradually brought
them from one step of iniquity to another, beginning first in the
violation of morality, to the place of purgatory in which they now
were.”
It further declared (a statement that interested me greatly), “That
though their bodies were unaffected with pain, their souls were in
darkness, under all the dreadful apprehensions of remaining there for
eternity, far beyond what the liveliest imagination while influenced
by the weight and grossness of matter, can conceive; that their doom
had been not a little aggravated by their final impenitence, impiety
and profaneness in adjuring God by the most horrid imprecations
to attest the truth of a palpable and notorious falsehood, and by
wishing that their own portion in Eternity might be determined in
consequence thereof. Language,” the apparition said, “was too weak to
describe and mortality incapable of conceiving a ten-thousandth part
of their anguish and despair even at present, and happy would it be
for succeeding ages if Posterity could be induced to profit by their
misfortunes and be influenced by this account to avoid the punishment
of the Earthbound.”
All this the phantasm delivered with such increased distinction and
perspicuity, with such an emphasis and tone of voice, as plainly
evinced the truth of what it spoke and claimed my closest attention and
regard; and as it seemed to hint that I was singled out to acquaint the
world with these particulars I told it that the present age was one of
incredulity and agnosticism, that few gave credit to fables of this
kind, that the world would conclude me either a madman or impostor or
brand me with the odious imputations of superstition and enthusiasm,
that, therefore, true credentials would be necessary, not only to
preserve my own character, but also to procure respect and credit to my
relations.
To this the phantasm instantly responded that what I observed was
perfectly right and requisite to authenticate the truth of this affair,
and that unless some proper attestations were given to accounts of this
nature, they would be considered by the rational part of mankind as
mere tales, invented only to amuse the credulous or frighten children
on a winter’s evening into temper and obedience; in short, that they
would have no weight, and disappoint the ends of Providence, who
intends them for the good and benefit of the world; that, therefore,
in order to encourage my perseverance in supporting the truth of this
appearance and embolden me to publish a minute detail of it, it would
direct me to such a criterion as would put the reality of it beyond all
dispute; and it accordingly told me that in such a spot, describing it
as minutely as possible, in the parish of Guilsborough, was deposited a
gold ring which belonged to the pedlar whom they murdered, and moreover
in the inside was engraved this singular motto:
HANGED HE’LL BE WHO STEALS ME, 1745
“That on perusing it,” the apparition continued, “it (Croxford) had
been smitten with grave apprehensions, and, thinking the words ominous,
had buried the ring, hoping thus to elude the sentence denounced at
random against the unlawful possessor of it, and even escape the
vindictive justice of Heaven itself by such a precaution; that if I
found not every particular in regard to this ring exactly as it related
it to me, then I might conclude there was not a single syllable of
truth in the whole, and consequently no obligation lay upon me to take
any further concerns in the affair.”
Engaged in this interesting and all-absorbing conversation, I suddenly
became aware it was very late--the silence throughout the house for the
first time appalled me, and I was about to make a movement towards
the door to make sure all was safe without, when the light from the
lamp once again became normal. With a startled glance I looked for the
phantasm--it was gone; nor was there any other means by which it could
have taken its departure save by dematerialisation.
Bitterly disappointed, my fears being now entirely removed, at so
abrupt a disappearance, I sat down very calmly, and in the coolest
manner canvassed over the whole matter to myself, reflected seriously
on every particular, and was induced to conclude from the coherence and
punctuality of the account that it was impossible it should be fiction
or imposture. I laid particular stress upon the circumstance of the
ring, the singularity of its motto, and the minute description of the
spot where it was deposited.
I considered, moreover, from the tests I had made by shutting my eyes
and pressing the balls with my forefinger, that I had been perfectly
awake, had had the full use both of my senses and reason, and was as
capable of knowing the figure and voice of a man as the size and print
of the book I was reading at the time the ghost made its appearance.
In short, firmly persuaded of the truth of what I had heard and seen, I
resolved on the morrow to search for the ring, and thereby clear it up
beyond all possibility of doubt.
Accordingly on Monday morning early, between four and five o’clock, I
set out alone, making directly to the spot the phantasm had described;
found the ring without the least difficulty or delay; examined the
motto and date of it, which corresponded exactly with his account of
it, and fully convinced me of my obligation to communicate to the world
the particulars of the whole.
With this resolution, immediately on my return I sat down and drew up
the whole conversation as near as I could recollect, neither omitting
nor adding any circumstance of consequence in the manner you now see
it, and trusting it will prove of use to the public for whose benefit
it seems intended.
The original manuscript, to which the author appends his name,
concludes with a very fervid exhortation to piety, coupled with an
equally strong warning against indulgence in vice and crime.
The story of the ghost, judging by the interest that is even now (1908)
taken in it, must have created a considerable sensation at the time--so
much so that I think a brief history of the crime--gruesome though it
be--will bear repeating.
Prior to doing so, however, I should like to relate a ghostly
experience that happened to me, Elliott O’Donnell, in the same
neighbourhood, August 1904.
The village of Guilsborough is on an eminence 10 miles N.W. by N. of
Northampton, 4 miles from the source of the Avon at Naseby, 10 miles
N.E. from Daventry, 11 miles from Lutterworth, 10 miles S.S.W. from
Market Harboro’, 12 miles E. from Rugby, and 76 miles from London.
The adjacent country, consisting of large stretches of smiling meadows,
dales, and table-lands, is very fair for the eye to dwell upon, and it
is only at night, when the shadows from the many spinneys are cast upon
the gleaming roads and silent tarns, or when the wind, rustling through
the elms and oaks, sound like the breaking and falling of surf on the
seashore--it is only then that the place presents an entirely different
aspect to the psychic mind and one conjures up--GHOSTS.
During the period of my early visits to Guilsborough, the history of
the village was unknown to me, nor did I for one moment associate it
with superphysical manifestations till I was staying at the hamlet of
Creaton, some three miles distant, and had to tramp home late at night.
I must confess, then, that I was unquestionably glad to leave the
crossroads at the top of Crow Hill and the lonely turnpike behind and
find myself snugly ensconced within the very material precincts of the
Cricketers’ Arms.
The route I took, led me past the long-disused burial-ground of some
Nonconformist Fraternity, a spot one never seemed to notice by day, but
which struck me as singularly eerie at night.
On this particular night in question, I did not leave my friend’s house
in Guilsborough till close on twelve, an hour when all village folk
are in bed and the place is wrapped in the most profound silence. The
sound of my footsteps, as I briskly pounded down the road, echoed
and re-echoed through the village. I welcomed the sound; it was nice
to have even that for a companion. I am not as a rule nervous, I have
been too much by myself in life to be an abject coward, yet I must
confess I never anticipated the walk from Guilsborough along the lonely
turnpike-road after nightfall without an uncomfortable itching in my
back.
I was just beginning to get that sensation when I arrived at the
rusty gates of the cemetery, and was confounded beyond measure on
seeing a curious, grotesque sort of creature climb over the iron bars
and confront me. The moonlight was so powerful that it left nothing
uncovered or concealed.
A frightful terror laid hold of me--what--what in the NAME OF HEAVEN
could it be?
Gazing at it with a fascination as hideous as the thing itself, I took
in every feature--the long, loose limbs, the thin body, the huge hands
and feet, the little repulsive head, the white fulsome, pig-like face,
and the protruding, sapphire eyes.
For some seconds--to me an eternity--we watched one another in
breathless silence--the Elemental (for as such I at length recognised
it) being the first to take the initiative. The unfathomable stare
in its eyes gradually deepened into a horrible and very unmistakable
expression of malignant joy in which all the most undesirable of
human vices seemed blended: its monstrous hands rose like wings on
either side of its head, the fingers twitching convulsively in greedy
anticipation of clutching me; its legs slowly crouched as if about to
spring--and then--just as the crucial moment arrived and the acme of
my terrors was reached--the spell was broken--the leaden weights fell
from off my feet--my limbs became endowed with a thousandfold their
natural elasticity--and--turning round--I fled.
So ended my first and only experience with a Guilsborough ghost. I have
taken very good care since then to give that burial-ground a very wide
berth after nightfall. But now comes the most extraordinary part of
it. I had heard off-and-on that a certain house in the village (since
pulled down) was supposed to be haunted; that one bedroom in particular
had struck those occupying it as containing an invisible “presence”
both inimical and horrible.
I never, however, associated this mysterious something with the
Elemental I had seen, till, in the course of a conversation with an
old and highly respected inhabitant of the village a few days since
(August 10, 1908), I learned that he had had a psychical adventure of a
somewhat extraordinary nature in his boyhood.
Upon pressing him, he told me that he had lived in the haunted house as
a child, and on running upstairs to his bedroom one morning had seen
a long, thin human form with a tiny head and animal’s face crouching
on the bed and staring at him. Terrified out of his wits by this
unexpected and startling spectacle, he had remained glued to the spot
for some seconds, until a slight movement on the part of the Elemental
broke the spell, and he was able to “bolt” precipitately from the
apartment: this was the only time he saw it.
Here then surely was the key to the nature of the haunting--an Elemental
or Poltergeist, assuredly the same that had appeared to me some fifty
years later at the gate of the old burial-ground.
My informant, by the way, had not heard of my experience; I had told
it to no one: hence this visual occult manifestation of mine in
Guilsborough stands corroborated.
But why this haunting? Why this form of apparition?
I dived into the history of Guilsborough, and discovered that
quantities of fossils (trilobites, &c.), together with implements of
flint--_i.e._, arrow-heads, javelins, celts (the latter popularly known
as “thunderbolts”) have been and are still found in various parts of
the village and in the gravel-pits of the adjoining hamlets of Nortorft
and Hollowell; that tumuli yet remain in Guilsborough Park and in
several of the neighbouring fields, and that numbers of very ancient
bones have been from time to time dug out of the soil in all parts of
the village.
All this is conclusive evidence that Guilsborough is far older than its
average inhabitant of to-day imagines, that it has been alternately the
site of Palaeolithic and Neolithic settlements, and that all sorts of
barbaric rites and ceremonies have been conducted on the very ground
where houses and cottages now stand.
Hence it is not very surprising to any one at all versed in the _modus
operandi_ of Phantasms and Psychic Phenomena to hear that one of the
apparitions (at least) haunting Guilsborough appears in the form of a
sub-human or sub-animal elemental.
Superphysical manifestations of this kind--let me explain for the
benefit of the inexperienced--usually occur on the sites of or near
ancient and unconsecrated or long-disused burial-places--the whys and
the wherefores of which I hope to dwell upon in detail in a subsequent
volume.
PART II
I now append the account of the Croxford Trial copied (with as
few alterations as possible) from the pamphlet reprinted by
Mr. Henson of Northampton in 1848
At the Assizes held at Northampton on Thursday, August 2, 1764, came on
before the Right Honourable the Lord Chief Baron Varker the trials of
Benjamin Deacon, John Croxford, and Richard Butlin for the murder of a
travelling pedlar--known only as Scottie--at a house of ill-fame called
“Catslo”--in the Parish of Guilsborough, kept by one Thomas Seamark
(who was executed at Northampton on April 23 last for a robbery on the
highway) and had been a receptacle of thieves and highwaymen for some
time.
The chief evidence against them was that of Anne Seamark, widow of the
above Thomas Seamark. She deposed that sometime between Michaelmas and
Christmas last the said pedlar (supposed to be one Thomas Corey) came
to the said house where were at that time the said Seamark, Deacon,
Croxford, and Butlin to whom he offered stockings, &c., for sale, but
not agreeing as to the price, they proposed to murder him and directly
Seamark knocked him down, Butlin fell upon his legs, Deacon upon his
face to prevent him crying out and Croxford, pulling out a knife, cut
his throat in such a manner that the head was almost off, but the body
stirring a little, Croxford stabbed him in the head which put an end to
his life.
They then stripped him and carried the clothes upstairs where Seamark’s
three children were in bed; after which a hole was dug by Seamark
in the close adjoining to the house where they buried the body; but
thinking themselves not safe, they dug up the body again and cut it
into several pieces.
These latter they put into an oven and were three days and nights
trying to consume them; in the end succeeding only with the flesh and
having to bury the bones which were now produced in court and held as
testimony against them.
Being asked by the judge why she did not reveal the same before, Mrs.
Seamark answered that her husband threatened to murder her if she
mentioned it to anyone, whilst Croxford holding a knife to her throat
with one hand and having a book in the other, swore he would instantly
kill her if she did not take an oath to conceal all knowledge of the
matter.
The next witness for the prosecution, Mrs. Seamark’s little boy of
ten years of age, stated that on being kicked one day at school by
a playmate, he had in a passion cried out that he would serve him as
his daddy served “Scottie,” which statement being overheard by the
schoolmaster, the latter called him into his presence and demanded an
explanation.
On the witness refusing to comply, he was shut in a room by himself
where he remained till the arrival of his mother.
In the meantime the Schoolmaster, who like everyone else in
Guilsborough, had only known the Pedlar by the name of “Scottie,” and
like other folk had wondered at his long absence from the village,
seeing that many people owed him money and others were in want of
goods, began to put two and two together and had arrived at the
conclusion that the boy knew more than he dare tell, when Mrs. Seamark
entered the house in a state of breathless alarm to know why her son
had not “turned up” for his dinner. Whereupon the Schoolmaster had
boldly taxed her with a knowledge of Scottie’s fate which after no
little hesitation and a great many tears she had admitted.
This had led to the present witness confessing, that chancing to peep
through the cracks of the chamber floor one afternoon, he had seen
his father and some other men trying to burn some hands and feet in
an oven, near to which were a light grey coat and a cane which he
recognised as belonging to “Scottie” who had been to their house the
day before. On being asked by the Judge if he could identify the
prisoners with the men he had seen helping his father, he at once
answered in the affirmative.
This concluded his testimony after which several other witnesses (whose
evidence I cannot record here through lack of space) were then called;
Croxford, Deacon and Butlin protesting their innocence of the crime
laid against them, declaring that the whole case had been maliciously
trumped up by Mrs. Seamark and her son.
After the evidence on both sides had been thoroughly examined, the
judge summed up, and the jury after a quarter of an hour’s absence
returned with a verdict of wilful murder; a demonstration being made by
the prisoners against Ann Seamark as she left the Court.