_February 3rd, Wednesday._--Constance Moore and I arrived from
Edinburgh, with Mac., the maid, a little after 10 P.M., having
sent on beforehand the following servants:--Robinson and Mrs.
Robinson, butler and cook; Carter and Hannah, two housemaids.
I had engaged them on behalf of Colonel Taylor in Edinburgh last
evening. They had all good characters, and were well
recommended. We told them nothing, of course, of the reputation
of the house, and were careful to choose persons of mature age,
and not excitable girls.
I had seen no plans nor photographs of the house, and merely
desired that any rooms should be prepared for us that were near
together--_i.e._ bedroom, dressing-room, and maid's room. Mr.
C---- [who met us in Edinburgh, and is a lawyer, mentioned
hereafter], who had seen plans, asked what orders we had given,
and remarked that, as far as he knew, we should secure one quiet
night, as the "haunted" part contained, apparently, no
dressing-rooms.
The house looked very gloomy. It was not cold out of doors,
though thick snow lay on the ground. Inside it felt like a
vault, having been empty for months. None of the stores ordered
had arrived. We had no linen, knives, plate, wine, food, and
very little fuel or oil. Candles and bread and milk and a tin of
meat had been got for us in the village. We ate and went to bed.
The room was so cold that we had to cover our faces, and we had
no bed-linen. We had been very busy all day in Edinburgh, and
soon fell asleep.
_February 4th, Thursday._--I awoke suddenly, just before 3 A.M.
Miss Moore, who had been lying awake over two hours, said, "I
want you to stay awake and listen." Almost immediately I was
startled by a loud clanging sound, which seemed to resound
through the house. The mental image it brought to my mind was as
of a long metal bar, such as I have seen near iron-foundries,
being struck at intervals with a wooden mallet. The noise was
distinctly as of metal struck with wood; it seemed to come
diagonally across the house. It sounded so loud, though distant,
that the idea that any inmate of the house should not hear it
seems ludicrous. It was repeated with varying degrees of
intensity at frequent intervals during the next two hours,
sometimes in single blows, sometimes double, sometimes treble,
latterly continuous. We did not get up, though not alarmed. We
had been very seriously cautioned as to the possibilities of
practical joking; and as we were alone on that floor in a large
house, of which we did not even know the geography, we thought
it wiser to await developments. We knew the servants' staircase
was distant, though not exactly where.
About 4.30 we heard voices, apparently in the maid's room,
undoubtedly on the same floor. We had for some time heard the
housemaids overhead coughing, occasionally speaking, and we
thought they had got up and had come down to her room.
After five o'clock the noises seemed to have ceased, and Miss
Moore fell asleep. About 5.30 I heard them again, apparently
more distant. I continued awake, but heard no more.
About 8 A.M. the maid brought us some tea. She said she had
slept very badly, had worried over our apparent restlessness, as
she had heard voices and footsteps and the sound of things
dragged about, but that the maids had not been downstairs. We
had never risen, and had spoken seldom, and in low tones, and an
empty room (the dressing-room) intervened between Mac.'s room
and ours.
In order, as we supposed, to follow up the noises we, later, in
the day moved our rooms to the other side of the house,
especially choosing those from which the sounds seemed to
proceed--Nos. 6 and 7--leaving Mac., the maid, in No. 3.
The whole day has been occupied with exploring the house,
sending for food and supplies, trying to thaw the rooms, moving
furniture to make things homelike, and trying to arrive at a
little comfort.
The house will soon be very pleasant, and only needs living in,
but it feels like a vault. It is very roomy and very light.
Nothing less like the conventional "haunted" house could be
conceived. The main body of the house was built in 1806, the
wing about 1883, with the apparent object of providing the
children of the family with rooms outside the "haunted" area. It
is cheerful, sunny, convenient, healthy, and built on a very
simple plan, which admits of no dark corners or mysteries of any
kind. A pleasanter house to live in I would not desire, but it
is constructed for summer rather than for winter use. It has
been added to at least twice, and there is much waste space. The
original mansion, which was, I understand, upon a different
site, was dated 1579; the new wing was built about fourteen
years ago, and consists of four rooms and offices, adapted for
schoolroom or nursery use. But the older walls are of great
thickness.
After dusk we sat down to rest, and for the first time read the
papers relating to the house,[C] breaking open the envelope in
which Mr. Myers had given them to me. I had done this for my own
satisfaction, as I wanted, if only for a few hours, to have as
unprejudiced a presentation of the place as was possible under
the circumstances. Miss Moore had heard some of the rumours
about the house in Edinburgh from Mr. MacP---- and Mr. C----,
but I had avoided all information as far as I could.
We now learnt, to our chagrin, that we had done the wrong thing,
and had left rooms alleged to be haunted, and taken two
apparently innocent. We, however, consoled ourselves by the
reflection that we can offer the others to our guests, and that
we are at all events _next_ to No. 8, which has an evil
reputation.
It is the room in which Sarah N---- died, and in which Miss H----
heard the limping footsteps walking round her bed.
As we had been told that the avenue is shunned by the whole
neighbourhood after dark, we went out for a stroll up and down
about six o'clock. We saw nothing, but our dog Scamp growled at
the fir plantation beside the road.
Mr. L. F---- [eminent as an electrical engineer], arrived about
10 P.M. We thought it polite to give him a quiet night after so
long a journey, and he is sleeping in No. 5.
_February 5th, Friday._--Miss Moore and I slept well. We were
both desperately tired.
Mr. L. F---- awoke suddenly at 2.30. No phenomena. He has an
excellent little apparatus, an electric flashlight, which he is
able to keep under his pillow and turn on at a second's notice,
very convenient for "ghost" hunting--no delay, and no
possibility of blowing it out.
The maids tell mine that they heard the sounds below them of
continuous speaking or reading, and "supposed the young ladies
were reading to one another."
This is the first occasion on which there has been mention of the
sound of continuous reading aloud, which afterwards became extremely
familiar. The sound was always that well known to Roman Catholics as
that of a priest "saying his office." It may be as well to remind the
reader that Clerks in Holy Orders of that Church are, like those of
the Anglican, strictly bound to read through the whole of the Daily
Service every day, and it is not permitted to do this merely by the
eye, the lips must utter the words. In practice some are accustomed
to move the lips with hardly any sound, and such, we have ascertained,
is the custom of the Rev. P---- H----; others read it absolutely
aloud, and will retire to their own rooms or other places, where they
may be alone for the purpose. This, we heard, was the invariable
practice of the Rev. Mr. "I.," the chaplain of Mr. and Mrs. "G."
As a matter of fact, we were sleeping on the other side of the
house, and the rooms under the maids' rooms were empty.... In
the evening, about six o'clock, we strolled down the avenue
again, and Scamp, who never does bark except under strong
excitement, again barked and growled at the copse.
The Hon. E. F----, a fellow-member of an S.P.R. committee,
arrives to-night. Hospitality constrains us to put him in No. 4,
which is "not haunted."
I asked after the success of the new kitchenmaid, a local
importation, who arrived yesterday. I was told she had already
gone. The cook told me "she talked all sorts of nonsense about
the house, and the things that had happened in it, and had been
seen in it, all day; and then at night refused to sleep here,
and the butler had to walk home with her at eleven o'clock."
The Factor [_anglicé_: bailiff] came this morning, and I fancied
a special intention in his manner. He was much annoyed about the
kitchenmaid, said such talk was "all havers" [_anglicé_:
"drivel"], begged me not to employ her again, and undertook to
get another, lending me a girl in his own service meanwhile.
I went with him into the wing to get him to see to things there.
We have been too busy in getting the rest of the house into
order to look after it yet; but I find the pipes are out of
order, the cisterns frozen, and the "set-basins" in the three
bedrooms and bath-room out of working order. He promised
attention, but discouraged the use of the wing. "Had we not room
enough without?" and so on. I suggested that, any way, for the
sake of the rest of the house it must be aired and thawed, and
he insisted that the kitchen fire below did that sufficiently.
I cannot help remembering that this is the scene of the
phenomena recorded by Miss "B----," as Duncan R----, the factor,
is well aware. Also, he was persistent about "keeping out the
natives," and their chatter, if I wanted to keep the servants,
but did not specify the nature of the chatter, and I asked no
questions.
_February 6th, Saturday._--No phenomena last night. The house
perfectly still.
During Colonel Taylor's tenancy a good many experiments of different
kinds were made in hypnotism, crystal gazing, and automatic writing.
These, however, belong to a class of matter quite different from that
of spontaneous phenomena, and are therefore not referred to, with the
exception of a single instance of crystal gazing, which, though
relating to B----, was made elsewhere, and one or two occasions of
automatic writing. This latter method of inquiry displayed all the
weakness to which it is usually, and apparently, inherently liable,
and is only mentioned here as explaining other matters. Its chief
interest was that it supplied a name marked by a certain peculiarity
which afterwards became familiar, and that it led to a hypothesis as
to at least one of the personalities by whom certain phenomena were
professedly caused.
In the afternoon an experiment was made with the apparatus known as a
_Ouija_ board, and this, as is very often the case, resolved itself,
after a time, into automatic writing. There is in the library a
portrait of a very handsome woman, to which no name is attached, but
which shows the costume of the last century. Her name was asked, and
the word _Ishbel_ was given several times. It is not certain whether
this word was meant as an answer to the question, or whether, as often
happens in such cases, it was intended merely as an announcement of
the name of the informant supposed to communicate.
The word, as given, possesses the following peculiarity. In the
Gaelic language the vowels _e_ and _i_ have the effect of aspirating
an _s_ immediately preceding them, in the same way in which they
effect the _c_ in Italian, or the _g_ in Spanish, so that, as in
Italian _ce_ and _ci_ are pronounced _chay_ and _chee_, so in Gaelic
_se_ and _si_ are pronounced _shay_ and _shee_. The name Isabel is
written in Gaelic _Iseabal_, but the _e_ is absorbed in its effect
upon the _s_ (like the _i_ in the Italian _cìo_) and the first _a_ is
so slurred as to be almost inaudible, so that the word is pronounced
"Ish-bel."
It was obvious, therefore, that the intelligence from which the
writing proceeded (if such existed) could write in English, and was
familiar with the colloquial Gaelic pronunciation of the name, but was
unacquainted with the Gaelic orthography. On this occasion also the
name "Margaret" was given in its Gaelic form of Marghearad (somewhat
similarly misspelt as _Marget_), without any special connection either
with the questions asked, or, so far as could be discovered, with
anything in the mind of any present, none of whom had interested
themselves at that time in the S---- ancestry.
In reply to questions as to what could be done that was of use or
interest, the writers were told to go at dusk, and in silence, to the
glen in the avenue, and this, rightly or wrongly, some of those
present identified with what had been called Scamp's Copse. They were,
however, perplexed by being told to go "up by the burn," for though
Miss Freer and Miss Moore had twice explored the spot, they had not
observed the presence of water. The journal continues--
We decided to walk in the avenue, and to explore "Scamp's Copse"
before dinner, in spite of the fact that we were expecting Mr.
MacP---- [a barrister], Mr. C---- [a solicitor], and Mr. W----
[an accountant] just about the time that we should be absent.
Miss Moore took the dog off in the opposite direction, and we
walked in silence to the plantation, Mr. L. F----, Mr. F----,
and I. It was quite dark, but the snow gleamed so white, that we
could see our way to the plantation. We went up among the trees,
young firs; the snow was deep and untrodden; and when we got
well off the road, we found that a burn comes down the brae
side. It is frozen hard, and we found it out only by the shining
of the ice.
We walked on in silence to the left of the burn, up the little
valley, along a small opening between the trees and the railing
which encloses them, Mr. L. F---- first, then I, then Mr.
F----.
In a few minutes I saw what made me stop. The men stopped too,
and we all stood leaning over the railings, and looking in
silence across the burn to the steep bank opposite. This was
white with snow, except to the left, where the boughs of a large
oak-tree had protected the ground.
Against the snow I saw a slight black figure, a woman, moving
slowly up the glen. She stopped, and turned and looked at me.
She was dressed as a nun. Her face looked pale. I saw her hand
in the folds of her habit. Then she moved on, as it seemed, on a
slope too steep for walking. When she came under the tree she
disappeared--perhaps because there was no snow to show her
outline. Beyond the tree she reappeared for a moment, where
there was again a white background, close by the burn. Then I
saw no more. I waited, and then, still in silence, we returned
to the avenue.
I described what I had seen. The others saw nothing. (This did
not surprise me, for though both have been for many years
concerned in psychical investigation, and have had unusual
opportunities, neither has ever had any "experience," so that
one may conclude that they are not by temperament likely to
experience either subjective phenomena or even
thought-transference.) It was proposed that we should ascend the
glen in her track on the other side of the burn. It was very
difficult walking, the snow very deep, and after two or three
efforts to descend the side of the bank we gave it up, and
followed to nearly her point of disappearance, keeping above the
tree, not below as she had done. We saw no more, and returned to
the house, agreeing not to describe what had occurred, merely to
say that as the factor (who looks about eighteen stone) is said
not to like the avenue at dark, we had been setting him and
others a good example.
In a letter to Lord Bute under date February 25th, Miss Freer
describes this figure with some detail:--
"As you know, these figures do not appear before 6.30 at earliest,
therefore there is little light upon their surface. Like other
phantasms seen at dark, they show 'by their own light,' _i.e._ they
appear to be outlined by a thread of light. It is therefore only when
the face appears in profile that one can describe the features, and
this is somewhat prevented by the nun's veil. 'Ishbel' appears to me
to be slight, and of fair height. I am unable, of course, to see the
colour of her hair, but I should describe her as dark. There is an
intensity in her gaze which is rare in light-coloured eyes. The face,
as I see it, is in mental pain, so that it is perhaps hardly fair to
say that it seems lacking in that repose and gentleness that one looks
for in the religious life. Her dress presents no peculiarities. The
habit is black, with the usual white about the face, and I have
thought that when walking she showed a lighter under-dress. She speaks
upon rather a high note, with a quality of youth in her voice. Her
weeping seemed to me passionate and unrestrained."
The appearance of a nun was entirely unexpected, as the name "Ishbel"
had been associated rather with the portrait of the beautiful woman in
an eighteenth-century dress in the library, and it was she whom the
witnesses, had they expected anything at all, would have expected to
see. Miss Freer, moreover, the first witness, had regarded the
statements of "Ouija" with her habitual scepticism as to induced
phenomena, more particularly those of automatic writing, in which, as
in dreams, it is almost always difficult to disentangle the operations
of the normal from those of the subconscious personality.
If the name "Ishbel" were really intended to apply to the nun, it
becomes a very curious question who is the person meant. A Robert
S---- of B---- married, as has been already mentioned, Isabella H----,
who died in 1784, but we know of no reason for supposing that she
ever became a nun.
The portrait may possibly have represented her, but it shows a much
older woman than the phantom so often seen; on the other hand, the
dates are not inconsistent, and a considerable distance of time is
suggested by certain phrases which occurred in the automatic writing.
The person to whom the mind more naturally reverts is Miss Isabella
S----, the sister, and apparently the favourite sister, of Major
S----. As already mentioned, she professed as a nun under the name of
Frances Helen in 1850, and died in 1880, aged sixty-six. She did not,
therefore, enter her convent till the age of thirty-five, an age much
greater than that shown by the phantom.
It is, moreover, interesting to note that this lady's name was
Isabella _Margaret_, so that both names, as given automatically, may
have really referred to her. In the seventh edition of "Burke's Landed
Gentry," 1886, there appears for the first time this entry--
"_IV. Isabella Margaret, a nun, regular Canoness of the Order of the
Holy Sepulchre, d. 23 Feb. 1880._"
The editors have obtained from the Nunnery, where she lived and died,
a photograph, representing the dress of the Community, and a
description of herself, which is as follows:--
"She died 23rd February 1880, quickly, of an attack of pneumonia or
acute bronchitis. She died a most edifying death, in perfect
consciousness, assisted by the Confessor ... and the Community around
her, and having received the last Sacraments only a few hours before
she expired. As to her appearance, she was short, rather fair, not at
all stout, but not extraordinarily thin.
"She entered the Community in April 1848, was clothed in May 1849, and
professed May 1850. We do not know whether she could speak Gaelic. She
was very fond of Scotland, and very particular about the pronunciation
of Scotch names. She was a most entertaining companion, being full of
natural wit."
The dress, which is dignified, is very peculiar and striking, and not
the least like the very ordinary nun's attire in which the phantom
appeared, while it would be difficult to imagine a greater contrast
than that between the merry old lady of the description and the
weeping girl so often seen.
There was, however, at least one very peculiar reason, which will be
noticed presently, for supposing that this phantom was really intended
to represent the late Rev. Mother Frances Helen, and that its
inaccuracy was owing to the stupid, and rather melodramatic
misconception in the mind which originally imagined it and transferred
it to the witnesses at B----.