"From Paris to Moret-sur-Loing is not a very long run, two hours at the

most. My friend, an artist, and myself went there in the month of July.

We 'put up' at the Hotel de la Chalette. We had rooms adjoining one

another, my friend using hers as a studio in the daytime. My room was

very close, the roof sloped horribly and I experienced a queer shrinking

sensation the moment I entered it. However, overcoming such feelings I

resolved to sleep there and say nothing of my misgivings to my friend.

At two o'clock in the morning of my first night there, I was awakened by

little tappings and a feeling of terror. I tried in vain to sleep but

could not, the presence of some ghost-like creature was strongly about

me. I lit my candle and placed it on the stand beside my bed, trying to

assure myself that this at least would protect me from apparitions, but

the feeling of the invisible presence remained. I was immeasurably

relieved when morning came, though I did not mention a word of what had

happened to my friend.

"Night after night the sensations were repeated with ever increasing

intensity, until I could instinctively feel the presence of a woman who

appeared to be enduring the most severe mental and physical pain. I

could feel her close to me, bending backwards and forwards and writhing

to and fro, and a deadly fear seized me lest she would clutch hold of me

in her throes of agony. Once I saw her shadow on the wall. Apart from

the unmistakeable likeness it bore to a woman, I am sure it was her

shadow, as I looked carefully about the room, removing sundry articles

of furniture to assure myself the phenomenon was not due to them. It was

not, for whatever I did in no way disturbed it--it still remained

plainly and ominously outlined on the wall.

"About the second week of my stay in Moret-sur-Loing, I was taken ill with

a violent cold and feverish pains. I could not discover any cause, though

my friend attributed it to a night's rowing on the river Loing. For a few

days I was confined to my room and my only consolation was to look at a

little pot of flowers which I had bought at the local market. The flowers

were bright scarlet and in pleasant contrast to the general gloominess of

the apartment. At last, however, utterly worn out with my illness and the

long succession of harassing nights, I persuaded my friend to leave the

hotel, which she reluctantly did, and we returned to England.

"On our way home we met a fellow artist who told us she had also been

staying quite recently at Moret, and then it transpired that she, too,

had had rooms at the Hotel de la Chalette, but had given them up as they

were so depressing. Upon hearing this I related my experiences,

whereupon she exclaimed, 'How odd! A girl whom I knew very well used to

go very often to the Hotel de la Chalette, and occupied the very room

you slept in. She was very much attached to the place and when she was

dying in England continually expressed a longing to be there. She died

in the very greatest agony--just such agony as that of the woman you

describe--and fought against death to the very last. She was most

unresigned and rebellious. I wonder if the sensations you experienced

were in any way due to her?'"

I think so without a doubt, and that the phantasm Miss Debrett saw is

either that of the earth-bound spirit of the unhappy girl who, when

dying, wished herself at the Hotel de la Chalette, or that of an

impersonating Elemental;--let us hope it is the latter. Death wishes

are, I am sure, frequently fulfilled, and, consequently, cannot be

regarded both by utterer and audience with too much seriousness. The

strong desire of the girl to cling to life--on this earth--proving that

her spiritual aspirations were strictly limited--was almost a sufficient

guarantee that her spirit would remain earth-bound.

Miss Viola Vincent, a well-known Society beauty, has furnished me with

an account of a house presumably haunted by a Phantasm of the Dead. It

is a large country house not very far from London, and the case was

reported to Miss Vincent by an old servant of the name of Garth.

Garth, who had no idea at the time that the house was haunted, was

taking a short nap on her bed one afternoon when she heard the door

slowly open and on looking up, saw to her astonishment a little

sinister old man, who tiptoed up to her bed and, leaning over her,

placed his finger on his lips as if to enjoin silence (an unnecessary

precaution as Garth was far too terrified either to utter a sound or

to move). On perceiving her fright, a subtle smile of satisfaction

stole over the man's face, which Garth describes as yellow and

wizened. He left the bed and, turning round, glided surreptitiously

through the open doorway. Greatly mystified, Garth mentioned the

affair to the other servants, who, instead of laughing at her, at once

exclaimed, "Why, you've seen old S----. He committed a murder, just

outside the door of your room, many years ago, and is frequently seen

about the house and grounds. If you examine the boarding in the

passage carefully, you will see the bloodstains." As Garth refused to

sleep in the room again, a valet of one of the visitors was put there,

and he experienced precisely the same phenomenon.

Garth constantly saw the phantasm of the man in various parts of the

building. Sometimes she would meet him face to face on a staircase,

sometimes he would creep stealthily after her, down one of the numerous,

gloomy corridors. Indeed, she never seemed to be free from him, and, in

the end, her nerves became so upset that, although the situation was an

excellent one, she was obliged to relinquish it. When in the orchard,

Garth, on several occasions, heard the sound of galloping horses and saw

the misty figures of two people engaged in earnest conversation. On

approaching them, however, they invariably melted into fine air. Miss

Vincent enquired into the case, and, eventually, got into communication

with other people who had witnessed the same phenomena.

I think it is highly probable that the apparition of the old man, at

any rate, was a phantasm of the dead, that is to say, the earth-bound

spirit of the murderer; for despite the tendency there is nowadays for

pseudo-humanitarians to sympathise with the perpetrators of revolting

and cruel murders, it is very certain that the Higher Occult Powers

hold no such erroneously lenient views, and that he who spills human

blood is bound by that blood to the earth. Hence murderers--or at

least such murderers as are not genuinely repentent--are chained for

an unlimited time to the scenes of their crimes, which they are

compelled willy-nilly to re-enact nightly.

Another case of haunting by the phantasm of a murderer, or murderers,

was told me by Miss Dalrymple, aunt of the famous singer, T.C.

Dalrymple. Her experiences began the night of her arrival at "The

Lichens," the house her nephew was then renting, near Felixstowe.

On retiring to rest she found the servants had made a very big fire in

her room, and growing somewhat apprehensive about it, she got out of bed

and took some of it off. Then, thinking that her alarm was rather

foolish, and that, as there was a proportionately large fender, no

danger could possibly arise, she put the coal on again and got back into

bed. A few minutes afterwards the room was pervaded with a current of

icy cold air, that blew over the bed and rustled through her hair. The

next instant, she felt a cold, heavy hand laid on one of her shoulders,

and she was steadily and mercilessly pressed down and down. Her terror

was now so intense that she could neither move nor articulate a sound,

and she could almost hear the violent palpitation of her heart. After

what seemed to her an eternity, but which was, in all probability, only

a few seconds, the hand was removed, and Miss Dalrymple then heard seven

loud thumps on the table at the foot of the bed, after which there was

silence, and the manifestations ceased. Miss Dalrymple, however, was

too upset to sleep, and lay awake all night in a great agony of mind,

lest there should be any further disturbances. When the maid brought her

some tea in the morning, the latter immediately exclaimed, "Oh, madam,

how dreadfully ill you look!" to which Miss Dalrymple replied, "Yes! I

have been feeling very ill, but do not, on any account, tell your master

or mistress, as it will only worry them."

Miss Dalrymple then took one of the older servants into confidence, and

asked her if the house was haunted.

"Well, madam," was the reluctant response, "people do say that there is a

house in this village that is haunted by the ghost of a murdered lady, but

I am not quite sure which house it is"--an answer which implied much.

Miss Dalrymple did not have any further experiences there herself, but

some time afterwards one of her great-nieces remarked to her, "Did you

know, auntie, 'The Lichens' was haunted?" and went on to say that on one

occasion, when going upstairs, she had seen the figure of a woman in a

grey dress bending over the basin in the bath-room as if engaged in

rinsing her hands. Thinking it was the head nurse, she was going on her

way unconcernedly when she saw the nurse coming towards her from quite a

different part of the house. Greatly astonished, she at once made

enquiries, in reply to which the nurse assured her that she had not been

in the bath-room for at least an hour. The figure in grey was repeatedly

seen, always in or near the bath-room, and always appearing as if

rinsing her hands. Once, too, when one of the children was alone in a

downstairs room that opened on to the lawn, a hideous, trampish old man,

carrying a sack, approached the window, and, after peeping in at the

child with an evil smile, placed his fingers knowingly alongside his

nose and glided noiselessly away into the shrubbery. The child ran out

at once and asked the gardener to look for the man, but despite a

vigorous search, no such person could be found.

Another inmate of the house, on going one day to her bedroom, heard

something behind her, and, turning round, perceived, to her unmitigated

horror, the luminous trunk of a man, which had apparently been

dismembered. The body, which was bobbing up and down in mid-air,

approached her rapidly, and, moving aside to let it pass, she saw it

vanish through the door of the room Mrs. Dalrymple had occupied. After

this ghastly manifestation, T.C. Dalrymple, Esq., fearing, for the sake

of his family, to remain any longer in such a place, left "The Lichens,"

part of which has since been pulled down and rebuilt. Miss Dalrymple's

heart has never been sound since she felt the ghostly hand on her

shoulder, the horror of which phenomenon, as any of her friends can

testify, turned her hair white.

As to the cause of the hauntings, that must be entirely a matter of

conjecture, since, with regard to the former history of the house,

nothing definite is known. A very vague rumour is current that many

years ago it was the _rendezvous_ of all manner of rips and _roués_,

and, strange though it may seem, the fact that the phantasm of the

woman, seen there, was wearing a modern costume, does not preclude the

idea that the said phantasm belonged to a bygone period. Such an

anachronism is by no means uncommon in cases of haunting, but it renders

the task of theorising on ghostly phenomena all the more difficult.

It may be asked with regard to this case--had the phantasm of the woman

any connection with that of the tramp, the mutilated body and the hand;

and my answer to that question is, that all four phenomena were, in all

probability, closely allied with one another. Very possibly an old man

had been murdered there by his paramour, who, after cutting up his body,

had bribed a tramp to dispose of it, in which case the house would, of

course, be haunted by the earth-bound spirits of both the victim and

agents of the crime. But it is quite possible, supposing the phenomena

are genuine phantasms of the dead, that the tragedy did not take place

in that house at all, but was enacted in some far-away spot, one or more

of the principals being in some way connected with "The Lichens."

However, as I have already said, it is one of those cases that must, by

reason of the uncertain history of the house, always remain a mystery.

A haunting of a similar nature occurred quite recently at a house near

Leeds. The place, which had stood empty for a very long while, was

eventually taken on a lease by my informants, Mr. and Mrs. Urquhart.

Neither of the latter had had any previous experience with the

superphysical, at which both were more or less inclined to scoff. One

evening, shortly after their arrival, Mrs. Urquhart was alone in the

study, and, looking up from her needlework, saw what at first sight

appeared to be a luminous disc--but which speedily developed into a

head--emerge from the wall opposite, and, bobbing up and down in

mid-air, slowly approach her. It was a woman's head, the woman having

obviously been decapitated, the expression in the wide open staring eyes

showing every indication of a cruel ending. The hair was long and

matted, the skin startlingly white. Mrs. Urquhart was at first far too

terrified to move or utter a sound, but as the ghastly object floated

right up to her, the revulsion she experienced was so great that the

spell of her inertness was broken and she fled from the room.

When she told her husband what had occurred, he exclaimed laughingly,

"Why, my dear, I never knew you had such a vivid imagination! You will

soon be asking me to believe in hobgoblins and pixies." Whereupon Mrs.

Urquhart bit her lips and was silent.

However, after dinner Mrs. Urquhart, hearing a great commotion in the

study, ran to see what was happening, and discovered her husband

and his friend, looking ghastly white, thrashing the air with

walking-sticks. Catching sight of her, they both cried out, "We've

seen the head--the beastly thing came out of the wall, as you

described, and floated towards us!"

On hearing this, Mrs. Urquhart recoiled in horror, nor could she be

persuaded ever again to enter the room. Her husband, whom the

experience had effectually cured of scepticism, at once fell in with

her proposal that they should immediately quit the house, and soon

after their removal they learned that the place had been pulled down.

From the fact, revealed by subsequent enquiries, that some years

previously an old woman had been murdered there, it is quite evident

to my mind that what the Urquharts and their friend saw was both

objective and superphysical; but whether the apparition was a phantasm

of the dead, or an impersonating elemental, can only be decided by an

adequate knowledge of the character of the murdered person in whose

likeness the phenomenon appeared.

Hauntings of a very disturbing nature go on (or, at least, did so a

short while ago) at a house in Rugeley, where dreadful groans are

frequently heard proceeding from a room on the ground floor. My

informant, however, would not say whether or not the house was the one

in which the notorious Palmer poisoned his victims; but here again it

seems more than probable, that the sounds are due to the presence of an

Elemental attached to the spot by the sacrifice of human blood.

I am hoping, at no great future date, to make a series of investigations

in houses that have been the scenes of unsolved mysteries, since I

believe it quite possible that I should experience such superphysical

demonstrations as would give me the direct clue to the identity of the

perpetrators of the crimes.

VISIONS AND DREAMS.

The Baroness Von A----, in a recent letter to me, says:--"I wonder if it

would interest you to hear of a rather strange occurrence that once

befell my husband. He was staying in town at the time, and was asked to

tea at the house of some friends of ours in Westminster. The name of the

friends is Howard, and their house, which is very old, is in one of the

old squares behind the Abbey. My husband, an absolute sceptic himself,

knew that the Howards were interested in Psychical Research, but had

never heard of any legend in connection with their house. One evening,

after tea, which took place in a back room, my husband, more in a

teasing spirit than anything else, suddenly exclaimed, 'Look here! Shall

I tell you what I can see in this room?' (He is most insistent that at

the time he spoke he saw nothing, but was preparing to make the whole

thing up, and meant to tell the Howards so afterwards.) 'I seem to be

standing in a small garden. It is a dark night, and I see two men,

dressed in the fashion of Charles II.'s time, just finishing digging a

small grave, near the edge of which another man is standing holding in

one hand a lantern of antique design. The two men have finished, the

third waves his lantern slowly, and the door of the house which faces me

(I feel it is this house, albeit somewhat different, though how I cannot

say) opens, and out of it comes a fourth man, also dressed according to

the Charles II. period, though in a very much richer costume. There is

an expression of diabolical satisfaction in his eyes as they dwell on

the face of the child he is carrying in his arms, and which, to my

horror, I see has been murdered. The villain approaches the grave, into

which he ruthlessly drops the body, and the diggers at once cover it

with shovels full of earth. That is all I can see.'

"To my husband's astonishment the Howards were wildly excited, and told

him that the legend connected with the house (and which they believed

was only known to one or two people besides themselves) tallied detail

for detail with the vision he had just witnessed. It was quite in vain

that he protested he had seen nothing at all, but had invented the story

just to 'have them on'--they would not believe him. It appears that in

the time of Charles II., another house had occupied the site of the

present one, though the garden was practically the same. A child had

been murdered there for its inheritance, and had been buried in the

garden where its bones had been subsequently found, after which the

house had been pulled down and the present one built. I am sure my

husband honestly thought he was inventing the vision. Could it have

been a case of suggestion?"

Yes, I am inclined to believe it was a case of suggestion, but of

suggestion due to some superphysical objective presence that actually

put the words of the story into the mouth of the narrator. I do not

think the story was a chance invention, a mere coincidence, any more

than I think the suggestion was telepathic.

My next case deals with a dream, a lady, of the name of Carmichael, had

whilst staying in an old house in the Punjab. She dreamed she was

awakened by a lovely Hindoo lady, who came to her bedside, and by signs

implored her to follow her. This Mrs. Carmichael at once did, and the

Hindoo led her down winding passages and through numerous rooms, until

they at length arrived in a courtyard with a well at the far end of it.

The Hindoo silently and mournfully approached the well, and, pointing

down it, wrung her hands and disappeared.

Mrs. Carmichael then woke to find herself bathed in perspiration; and

the dream made such an impression on her that when she went to stay

with some friends the next day, she told them about it. To her

astonishment they were intensely excited. "Why!" they exclaimed, "we

know the place well, and you have described exactly the winding

passages in that part of the house that has never been used since a

Hindoo lady was murdered there for her jewels some years ago. Neither

the murderer nor his booty was ever found."

It was now Mrs. Carmichael's turn to be amazed, and she readily agreed

to go with them to the house to see if she could find the well she had

seen in her vision. Accordingly they all set out, and, on reaching the

house, appointed Mrs. Carmichael as guide. Without any hesitation she at

once made for the disused wing, and, leading the party through the rooms

and down the passages she had seen in her dream, eventually brought them

to the well in the courtyard. The well was then dug, and at the bottom

lay a number of valuable diamond and pearl necklaces, rings and

ear-rings! No body, however, was found, but when Mrs. Carmichael slept

in the house again she dreamed no more of the Hindoo lady.

I unhesitatingly vouch for the truth of this story. The question now

arises--to what cause could the vision be attributed? Was it due to a

telepathic communication from some living brain acquainted with the

story, or did Mrs. Carmichael's superphysical body leave her material

body and visit the scene she witnessed, or was it all suggested to her

by some objective superphysical presence, presumably that of an

impersonating and benevolently disposed Elemental? I am inclined to

think the last theory the most feasible.

An account of another interesting dream has been sent me by Miss

Featherstone, several of whose other psychic experiences I have already

related. "In a dream," she says, "which occurred twenty-three years

ago, I thought I was very much upset and worried, and was running up and

down passages which I had never seen before, looking for something (I am

not sure that I knew in my dream what I was looking for), and being

unable to find it, I exclaimed, 'Oh! I do wish Arthur was here!' I woke

up saying this. Some months afterwards I was staying with a cousin in

Worcestershire, when she had an epileptic fit. All the servants were out

excepting two young girls. The doctor came and ordered brandy, and I

could not find the key of the cellar anywhere. I had never explored the

downstairs of my cousin's house before, and as I raced down a long

succession of passages in my search for the cellar key, I instantly

recognised and identified the passages with those I had seen in my

dream. Moreover, to make the resemblance still more striking, my cousin

Arthur, who alone knew where the key was kept, was away, and I kept

saying to myself, 'I would give anything if only Arthur were here!'

Later in the day he returned with the key in his pocket."

In this instance I think the superphysical body of Miss Featherstone,

under the guidance of an Elemental, separated itself from her material

body whilst the latter was asleep, and visited the actual spot where the

incident of the key took place. As to why the Elemental should then have

initiated Miss Featherstone into the trivial details only of an incident

of the future, it is impossible to explain. One can only surmise that

the act was an inconsequent one on the part of the Elemental, or that it

would have revealed more to her had not some unexpected interruption

recalled Miss Featherstone's superphysical self.

PART III.

CHAPTER V.

THE HAUNTINGS OF THE OLD SYDERSTERNE PARSONAGE (1833), NEAR FAKENHAM,

AND A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE IN SYDENHAM.

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 sensible

of 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. The

self-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 settle the 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 the _East 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 of a 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 heard on 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 a _quasi

alumnus_ of the great Greek 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 prehistoric times. 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 the usual 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, foetid

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--which

slamming, 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 for what 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 Elemental

attracted 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.

PART IV.

CHAPTER VI.

SUGGESTIONS AND HYPOTHESES.

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.

PHANTASMS.

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, always insensible 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.

CLASSIFICATION OF PHANTASMS.

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.

PHANTASMS OF THE DEAD.

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 earth in 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 his _Ghost 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.

THE SOULS OF THE GOOD.

Whilst the spirits of bad people are thus held to 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 (vide _Thorpe'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 very much 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.

FUTURITY FOR DUMB ANIMALS.

There is, in my opinion, abundant evidence to show that dogs, horses,

and birds have spirits that 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 of

_Haunted 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 did not 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.

PHANTASMS OF THE LIVING.

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 me that 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.

THE CLOTHES OF PHANTASMS.

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 in the 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--the form 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.

PHANTASMS OF THE MURDERED AND OF SUICIDES.

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.

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

also all 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 definition of 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.

VAGRARIANS.

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.

MORBAS, OR DISEASE ELEMENTALS.

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.

CLANOGRIANS, OR FAMILY GHOSTS.

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 perpetrated by 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 took up 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.

IMPERSONATING ELEMENTALS.

One of the functions of Impersonating Elementals, as I have already

stated, is to perform the _rôles_ both of the victim of murder and of

suicide, though only in those cases where the spirits of the murdered

person and the suicide 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

Spiritualistic _séances_, 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.

NEUTRAL ELEMENTALS.

Under this heading are included all Impersonating Elementals,

some Clanogrians, and the greater number of Vagrarians,

Pixies, and Fire Elementals.

MATERIALISATION.

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.

THE PSYCHIC FACULTY.

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.

Phantom coaches, clocks, ships, etc., are merely illusionary accessories

to help carry out the 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.

PHANTASMS IN MINES.

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's

_Tales of the West_ and Hunt's _Popular 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.

PHANTASMS OF THE SEA.

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

Bude and 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 his _Ghost 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 his _Romances 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 times from 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, it possesses 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!

HAUNTED TREES.

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 spirit

and 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 her favourite 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" (see _Superstitions 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.

TELEPATHY.

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 thought to 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 long distance 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.

SPIRITUALISTIC _SÉANCES_.

As I have already inferred, I think it quite likely that genuine

superphysical manifestations do, at times, take place at spiritualistic

_séances_, 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 at

_séances_ is a very dangerous thing, as, not content with appearing at

the _séance_, 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

joined hands, or facing "curtained off" recesses or mysterious

cabinets--why cannot they thus simply manifest themselves at a _séance_?

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 spiritualistic _séances_ seems 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 is hung 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--for _séances_ are 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 do occasionally materialise, but

that when they do, it is as much to the terror of the medium as of his

audience. The fear inspired by a _bona-fide_ superphysical 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 spiritualistic _séances_.

AUTOMATIC WRITING.

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.

THE LAYING OF PHANTASMS.

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 of us 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 possible beneficial

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.

PHANTASMS OF THE INSANE.

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.

INDEX.

A.

PAGE

Animals (Future for), 149-150

" (Phantasms of), 145-150

Antagonistic Elementals, 157-8, 163

" Forces, 157

Automatic Writing, 177

B.

Banshee, 23 (def. of), 24, 25

Baroness Von A---- (Case of the), 67-72, 113-115

Barrowvians, 79 (def. of)

Bellew (Case of Mrs.), 77

Benevolent Elementals, 153-7

" Forces, 157 (def. of), 163

Bruce (Case of Mrs.), 63-4

Buccas, 164

C.

C---- (Case of Miss), 39-41

Carmichael (Case of Miss), 116

Cayley (Case of Miss), 169-170

Chichester (Case of Rev. G.), 78-9

Clanogrians, 23 (def. of), 33, 34, 74, 82, 159 (def. of), 162, 170

Clifford (Case of Mr.), 7

Clocks (Phantom), 13, 38, 73, 163

Clock that struck Thirteen, 13, 33, 73

Clothes of Phantasms, 153-154

Coaches (Phantom), 163

Cone shaped head (Phantasm with), 66

Coney (Mr. and Mrs.), 46

Cornelius (Case of Mr.), 8

Craven (Case of Mrs.), 98-100

Cyclist in grey, 43

D.

D---- (Case of Miss), 172-3

Dalrymple (Case of Miss), 106-110

Dead (Phantasms of the), 90, 98, 99, 103, 105, 145-6

Death Candles of Wales, 23, 81

Death Warnings, 39, 161

Debrett (Case of Miss), 100, 102

Dodd (Case of Miss), 66-67

Dreams, 45-56, 113-119

Drummers (Phantom), 23, 72, 82

E.

Elementals (def. of), 11 (def. of), 155 (def. of)

Elmore (Case of Mrs.), 152-3

F.

Family Ghosts, 72, 74, 82, 159 (def. of)

Falmouth, 37

Featherstone (Case of Miss), 84, 117-119

Fire Elementals, 77, 162

H.

H---- (Phantasm of), 37-8

Hacon (Rev. H.), 123, 127-129

Howards (Case of), 113-115

I.

Impersonating Elementals, 76, 86, 94, 99, 103, 112, 161-2 (def. of), 167

K.

K---- (Case of Mr.), 41-3

Kobolds, 164

L.

Lady ---- (Case of), 37

Laying of Phantasms, 177-8

Lichens (Haunting of the), 106-110

Lights (Spirit), 79-80

Living (Phantasms of), 34, 44, 151-3, 173

M.

Mad (Spirits of the), 84, 91, 179

Materialisation, 163

Mines (Phantasms in), 164-165

Morbas, 3-9, 74, 159 (def. of), 179

Murdered (Phantasms of), 108, 111, 112, 116, 155

Murderers (Phantasms of), 105, 110

N.

Nature Spirits, 11

Neutral Elementals, 162

O.

Omens, 41

P.

P---- (Case of Mrs.), 92-95

Palmer the Murderer, 12

Phantasms (Classification of), 144

" (def. of), 143

Pig's head (Phantasm with), 59-63

Pipers (Phantasms of), 23, 82

Pixies, 10, 76-78, 80, 88-89, 163

Poltergeists, 82, 85

Portman Square (Tragedy in), 34, 73

Projection, 35, 117-8

Projection (Process of), 39

Psychic Faculty, 163

R.

Radiant Boy, 72

Raynor (Case of Miss), 44-5

Reed (Case of Mr.), 66

Rolands (Case of Miss), 74-6

S.

"S" (Phantasm of "Old"), 104

Sea (Phantasms of the), 160

Séances, 85-6, 162, 174-7

Ships (Phantom of), 163

Sinclair (Case of Miss), 64-5

Soul (def. of), 91

Souls of Good, 146-8

Spirit (def. of), 91

St. Jermyn (Case of Miss), 95-98

Stewart (Case of Rev. J.), 123-129

Suicides (Phantasms of), 90-91, 155

Suggestion, 115

Sydersterne Parsonage (Haunting of), 123-132

T.

Telepathy, 117, 171-174

Trees, 168-170

U.

Urquhart (Case of Mrs.), 110-112

V.

Vagrarians (def. of), 12, 159

Vagrarians, 11-23, 25-31, 66, 82, 131, 159, 161, 163

Vice Elementals, 31, 56, 62, 63, 64, 65, 82, 131, 138, 157, 167, 170, 179

Vincent (Case of Miss), 82, 84

Vincent (Case of Miss Viola), 103-105

W.

W---- (Case of Mrs.), 35, 79

Walton (Case of Mr.), 61-2

Williams (Case of Dr.), 59-61

Wraithes, 91

Y.

Yellow Boy, 72

Transcriber's Notes:

Passages in italics are indicated by _underscore_.

The following words have been retained in both versions:

Morbas (page 6, 74, 159, 161, 179, index) and morbas (page 6)

forwards (pages 101, 176) and forward (pages 5, 14, 30, 33, 45, 53)

D/death warnings (page 39, 160, 161, index) and death-warnings (page 24)

cone-shaped (page 66) and cone shaped (index)

grandparents (pages 74, 76) and grand-parents (page 23)

rough hewn (page 100) and rough-hewn (page 96)

everyone (page 96) and every one (pages 8, 27, 69, 85)

someone (pages 92, 138, 167, 176) and some one (page 22)

wallpaper (page 21) and wall paper (page 152)

well known (pages 31, 99) and well-known (pages 6, 82, 97, 100, 103)

would be (pages 17, 39, 60, 90, 94, 130, 143, 145, 156, 157, 160, 162,

179) and would-be (pages 56, 153, 168)

bona-fide (page 177) and bona fide (page 98)

The following parts have been left as printed:

Castle-on-Dinas which seems to mean Castle-an-Dinas in Cornwall (page 77)

A narration from Miss Rolands starting on page 74 with opening

quotation marks continous over several pages without marking other

paragraphs beeing part of the narration or closing the quotation mark

(middle of page 76). These paragraphs have been left as set in the book.

Other than the corrections listed below, printer's inconsistencies

in spelling, punctuation, hyphenation, and ligature usage have

been retained.

The following misprints have been corrected:

changed "figure of some thing utterly" into "figure of something

utterly" page 7

changed "to be met with in lonely" into "to be met within

lonely" page 13

changed "various English family-ghosts, is the work" into "various

English Family Ghosts, is the work" page 23

changed "recovering consciousn ss my" into "recovering

consciousness my" page 29

changed "Vagrarian or Vice-Elemental, that" into "Vagrarian or

Vice Elemental, that" page 31

changed "illusionary? Ande here" into "illusionary? And here" page 38

changed "she suddenly vanished." into "she suddenly vanished."" page 40

changed "would doubtless remain earthbound" into "would doubtless

remain earth-bound" page 79

changed "other Glanogrians or" into "other Clanogrians or" page 82

changed "the actual earthbound souls of the people," into "the actual

earth-bound souls of the people," page 90

changed "is equally earthbound, but" into "is equally earth-bound,

but" page 90

changed "company with the earthbound soul of" into "company with the

earth-bound soul of" page 90

changed "Mrs. P--. narrated to me" into "Mrs. P---- narrated

to me" page 94

changed "Night after night the" into ""Night after night the" page 101

changed "in the day time, but" into "in the daytime, but" page 137

changed "sometimes (though-rarely) commit" into "sometimes (though

rarely) commit" page 143

changed added "in India, s had the greatest difficulty in making her

ho pass a particular tree, and that on mentioni the matter"

into "in India, she had the greatest difficulty in making

her horse pass a particular tree, and that on mentioning the

matter" page 168

changed "you within its cluthces. Be" into "you within its clutches.

Be" page 169

changed "altogether too distinct, but from the fact that it impressed

r with sensations of the utmost terror and thing, she realised"

into "altogether too indistinct, but from the fact that it

impressed her with sensations of the utmost terror and loathing,

she realised" page 169

changed "so, Mrs. Caley felt an" into "so, Mrs. Cayley felt an" page 169

changed "Baroness Von A-- (Case of the)" into "Baroness Von A----

(Case of the)" index

changed "Clanogrians, 23 (def. of), 33, 34, 74 82, 159 (def. of), 162,

170" into "Clanogrians, 23 (def. of), 33, 34, 74, 82, 159 (def.

of), 162, 170" index

changed "Family Ghosts, 72, 74, 82 159 (def. of)" into "Family Ghosts,

72, 74, 82, 159 (def. of)" index