THE AUTHOR AND THE GHOSTS.
I closed my engagement with the Dramatic Company of which I was a
member, in Newfoundland, and went to Amherst, to expose, if possible,
Esther Cox, the great Amherst Mystery.
Where occasion requires allusion to myself, I shall simply say the
author.
At seven o'clock on the morning of June 21st, 1879, as the sun was
shining brightly, and the cool breeze was blowing from the bay, the
author entered the haunted house. After placing his umbrella in a corner
of the dining room, and his satchel on the table, he seated himself in
one of the easy chairs to await results. Esther and Olive were present.
He had been in the room about five minutes when, to his great
astonishment, his umbrella was thrown a distance of fifteen feet, going
over his head in its flight. At the same instant a large carving knife
came jumping over the girl's head, and fell near him. Not at all pleased
with this kind of a reception on the part of the ghosts, he left the
room and went into the parlor, taking his satchel with him, and there
sat down paralyzed with wonder and astonishment. He had been seated only
a moment when his satchel was thrown a distance of ten feet. At the same
instant a large chair came flying across the room striking the one on
which he was seated, nearly knocking it from under him. It suddenly
occurred to him that he would take a walk, during which he could admire
the beauties of the village.
On his return to the cottage, the ghosts commenced their deviltry again
with redoubled violence. He had no sooner entered the house than all the
chairs in the parlor--and there were seven by actual count--fell over.
Concluding not to remain in that room, he went to the dining room, when
the chairs in that, his favorite room in every house, went through the
same performance. Feeling hungry, not yet having had his breakfast, he
sat down to a good substantial meal, Esther sitting directly opposite.
After pouring out his coffee, she handed it to him with the remark, "Oh,
you will soon get used to them; I don't think they like you." "No," he
replied, "I do not think they do either. In fact, I am satisfied they do
not; but, having come here to investigate, I shall remain until they
drive me from the house." While eating breakfast the ghosts commenced to
hammer on the table. By the system in use by the family when conversing
with them, he carried on a long conversation, they answering by knocks
on the bottom of the table. Before entering into the conversation,
however, he sat so that Esther's hands and feet were in full view. The
ghosts told the number of his watch, also the dates of coins in his
pocket, and beat correct time when he whistled the tune of "Yankee
Doodle." Chairs continued to fall over until dinner, during which there
was a slight cessation of manifestations.
After dinner, the author lay down upon the parlor sofa to take a nap, as
is his custom in the afternoon. Esther came into the room for a
newspaper. He watched her very closely, keeping one eye open and the one
next her shut, so that she would think he was asleep. While watching her
intently to see that she did not throw anything herself, a large glass
paper weight, weighing fully a pound, came whizzing through the air from
the far corner of the room, where it had been on a shelf, a distance of
fully fifteen feet from the sofa. Fortunately for the author, instead of
striking his head, which was evidently the intention of the ghost who
threw it, it struck the arm of the sofa with great force, rebounding to
a chair, upon which it remained after it had spun around for a second
or two. Being very anxious to witness the manifestations, he requested
Esther to remain in the room, which she did. After seating herself in
the rocking chair, little George came into the room, when she placed the
little fellow on her lap and sang to him. As the author lay there
watching her, one of the child's copper-toed shoes was taken off by a
ghost and thrown at him with great force, striking his head. The place
struck was very sore for three or four days. The balance of the day
passed quietly away. Evening came, and the author had a good night's
rest in the haunted house of which he had heard so much. The next day
being Sunday, everything was peaceful in the cottage, though why the
ghosts should respect the Sabbath the author has never been able to
ascertain; however they always remain quiet on that day. On Monday
morning the ghosts commenced their mad pranks again, and seemed ready
for anything. At breakfast, the lid of the stone-china sugar bowl
disappeared from the table, and, in about ten minutes, fell from the
ceiling. After breakfast; over went the table; then the chairs all fell
over, and several large mats were pitched about the room. The author
immediately left the room and went into the parlor, when, to his
astonishment, a flower pot containing a large plant in full bloom was
taken from its place in the bay window and set down in the middle of the
room and a large tin can filled with water was brought from the kitchen
and placed beside it. During the afternoon a large inkstand and two
empty bottles were thrown at him. The ghosts also undressed little
George, and, as if to make a final climax to the day's performance, Bob,
the head ghost, started a small bon-fire up stairs, and he and the other
ghosts piled all the chairs in the parlor one on top of the other, until
they made a pile about six feet in height, when, as if in sport, they
pulled out those underneath, letting all the others fall to the floor
with a crash.
On Tuesday morning when the author took his seat at the breakfast table,
he placed the sugar bowl lid beside his plate, so that he might have his
eyes on it. In a second it disappeared and fell, in exactly eight
minutes by the clock, from the ceiling, a distance of fully twenty feet
from the table. The ghosts got under the table, as on the previous
morning, and were so obliging as to produce any sounds called for, such
as an exact imitation of the sawing of wood, of drumming and of washing
on a wash board. During the morning several knives were thrown at him; a
large crock of salt was taken from the kitchen dresser and placed on the
dining room table; the tea kettle was taken from the stove by one of the
ghosts and placed out in the yard, as was also the beefsteak, pan and
all, which was frying on the stove; and, after dinner, the table was
upset. During the afternoon, while in the parlor, the author made the
acquaintance of all the ghosts,--Bob Nickle, the chief ghost; Maggie
Fisher, another ghost almost as bad as Bob; Peter Cox, a quiet old
fellow of very little use as a ghost, because he never tries to break
chairs, etc.; Mary Fisher, (who says she is Maggie's sister) Jane Nickle
and Eliza McNeal. The three last are "no good" as ghosts, as all they do
is stalk about the house and occasionally upset something. As there are
only six ghosts all told, and they were all present, the author asked
them numerous questions, all of which were answered by loud knocks on
the floor or on the wall, just as he requested--all seeming anxious to
converse. The first question the author asked was:
"Have you all lived on the earth?"
A.--"Yes."
Q.--"Have you seen God?"
A.--"No."
Q.--"Are you in heaven?"
A.--"No."
Q.--"Are you in hell?"
A.--"Yes."
Q.--"Have you seen the devil?"
A.--very loud--"Yes."
Many other questions were answered, but the answers are not worth
repeating.
At the conclusion of the interview, one of the ghosts threw the author's
bottle of ink from the table to the floor, spilling the contents on the
carpet.
The next day as the author and Esther were entering the parlor, both saw
a chair fall over and instantly jump up again. Neither the author nor
Esther were within five feet of the chair at the time.
During the whole of the next day the ghosts stuck pins into Esther's
person. These pins appeared to come out of the air and the author pulled
about thirty from various parts of her body during the day. In the
afternoon the family cat was thrown a distance of five feet by one of
the ghosts, and almost had a fit from fright. She remained in the yard
for the balance of the day, and ever afterwards while in the house
seemed to be on the lookout for ghosts; possibly she saw and heard them
on several occasions afterwards, for her tail often became quite large,
as cats' tails always do when they are frightened or angry, after which
she would leave the house in a hurry. The author saw Esther coming down
stairs late in the afternoon, and when she had reached the hall a chair
from his room came down after her. The only other person in the cottage
at the time was Olive, and she was at that instant in the kitchen.
On June 26th, two or three matches fell from the ceiling at the author's
feet. Being a great smoker, he requested the ghosts to throw down a few
more, which they did. He would simply say, "Bob, I would like a few
matches, if you please." When down they would come from the ceiling.
Forty-five were thrown during the day, and on another day during the
afternoon forty-nine fell to the floor.
It must be remembered that all the manifestations witnessed by the
author took place in the broad light of day, and that the only other
persons present were the various members of the family.
On June 28th, the sound of a trumpet was heard by the author and all the
family. It continued to be blown about the house from early morning
until late in the evening. The sound was very distinct and was at times
close to their ears. Late in the evening "Bob" let the trumpet fall in
one of the rooms. It is composed of some metal very similar to German
silver, and is now in the possession of the author, who intends to place
it in a museum on his return to the United States. Where the ghosts got
it no one knows. It had never been seen in Amherst, so far as had been
ascertainable, until it fell upon the floor, and its true origin will
doubtless always remain a mystery.
It is hardly necessary that the author should weary the reader with a
minute account of the manifestations produced by these ghosts during his
residence of six weeks in the haunted house, he could easily fill a book
containing twice the number of pages that this one does, with an account
of what was done by the ghosts alone, without mentioning the name of a
single living individual except Esther Cox; but I suppose the reader, by
this time, is ready to cry "_quantum sufficit_." So by referring to a
few more facts, he will end this chapter.
One afternoon, while Esther was out walking, she called on Rev. R.A.
Temple. During the visit he prayed with her, and also advised her to
pray for herself. On her return to the cottage, one of the ghosts,
either Bob or Maggie, cut her on the head with an old bone from the
yard, and a moment afterwards stabbed her in the face with a fork.
While the author lived in the house, scarcely a day passed that some
article was not thrown by the ghosts. They would often steal small
articles and keep them secreted--Heavens only knows where--for days at a
time, and then unexpectedly let them fall in one of the rooms, to the
amazement of every one. In that way, shoes and stockings, knives, forks
and other articles too numerous to mention would be missed, sometimes
for weeks, and on one occasion some copper coins were taken from Dan's
pocket and placed upon the author's knee.
It was a common thing for the ghosts to throw knives at the author, but
fortunately they were all dull and he was never cut; he was, however,
often struck by small articles, never sufficiently hard, however, to
draw blood. During his stay in the house, Esther often went into a state
very similar to the mesmeric sleep, during which she talked with people
invisible to all present; among others, her dead mother. On coming out
of this strange state she always said she had been to heaven among the
angels.
On several occasions, Bob, the head ghost, tormented her so at night
that it was with difficulty she could remain in bed. On one particular
occasion the author was called up by Dan at midnight so that he might
behold for himself what was going on. After dressing, he went into
Esther's room, and was horrified by the sight which met his gaze. There,
upon the bed, lay the poor, unhappy girl swollen to an enormous size,
her body moving about the bed as if Beelzebub himself were in her, while
between her gasps for breath she exclaimed in agonizing sobs: "Oh, my
God, I wish I were dead! I wish I were dead!"
"Oh, don't say that, Esther," plead Olive, "don't say that."
"Now, Mr. Hubbell," said Jane to the author, "you see how much she
suffers."
"Yes, I see," said Hubbell, "but let us endeavor to hold her, so that
this fiend cannot move her about the bed, and then, perhaps, she will
not suffer so much." So Dan and himself tried to hold her so that she
could not be moved, but in vain.
"Well," said Hubbell, "one ghost is certainly stronger than two men. Are
you sure nothing can be done to relieve her?"
"No," replied Olive, "Dr. Caritte has tried everything without affording
her the slightest relief. Medicine has no more effect on her than
water."
Jane, Olive, Dan and the author remained up with her for about three
hours, during which time she continued to move about the bed, after
which the ghost left her and she sank from sheer exhaustion into a state
of lethargy. She had several attacks of this kind during the author's
residence in the cottage, and on one occasion she was seen by Mr. G.G.
Bird, Mr. Jas. P. Dunlap, Mr. Amos Purdy and several ladies; on another
occasion by Dr. E.D. McLean, Mr. Fowler and Mr. Sleep.
Towards the latter part of July the manifestations became so powerful
that it was no longer safe to have Esther in the house. Fires were
continually being started, the walls were being broken by chairs, the
bed clothes pulled off in the day time, heavy sofas turned upside down,
knives and forks thrown with such force that they would stick into
doors, food disappeared from the table, finger marks became visible in
the butter, and, worse than all, strange voices could be heard calling
the inmates by name in the broad light of day. This was too much; if the
ghosts continued to gain in strength they would take possession of the
house and all in it, for there were six ghosts, and only five persons in
the flesh all told, as follows: Dan, Olive, Jane, Esther and the
author, not, of course, counting the two children--William Cox and John
Teed having left the house before Esther went to St. John, literally
driven away by ghosts.
There was but one remedy, and that was that Esther Cox should leave the
house even though her sisters loved her dearly. Simple hearted village
maiden! Fate decreed that she should be torn from their home, but not
from their hearts for the simple reason that her room was far more
agreeable than her company.
So one morning, after packing up all her worldly possessions, she kissed
the little boys, embraced her sisters, shook hands with the rest, bade
them all farewell, and departed never to return.