The Night-Side of Nature; Or, Ghosts and Ghost-Seers

by Catherine Crowe

THE POLTERGEIST OF THE GERMANS, AND POSSESSION.

With regard to the so-called hauntings, referred to in the preceding chapter, there seems reason to believe that the invisible guest was formerly a dweller upon earth, in the flesh, who is prevented by some circumstance which we are not qualified to explain, from pursuing the destiny of the human race, by entering freely into the next state prepared for him. He is like an unfortunate caterpillar that ‘can not entirely free itself from the integuments of its reptile life which chain it to the earth, while its fluttering wings vainly seek to bear it into the region to which it now belongs.’ But there is another kind of haunting, which is still more mysterious and strange, though by no means unfrequent, and which, from the odd, sportive, mischievous nature of the disturbances created, one can scarcely reconcile to our notions of what we understand by the term ghost; for in those cases where the unseen visitant appears to be the spirit of a person deceased, we see evidences of grief, remorse, and dissatisfaction, together with, in many instances, a disposition to repeat the acts of life—or at least to simulate a repetition of them: but there is nothing sportive or mischievous, nor, except where an injunction is disobeyed or a request refused, are there generally any evidences of anger or malignity. But in the other cases alluded to, the annoyances appear rather like the tricks of a mischievous imp. I refer to what the Germans call the poltergeist, or racketing spectre, for the phenomenon is known in all countries, and has been known in all ages.

Since hearing of the phenomenon of the electric girl, which attracted so much attention and occasioned so much controversy in Paris lately, and other similar cases which have since reached me, I feel doubtful whether some of these strange circumstances may not have been connected with electricity in one form or another. The famous story of what is familiarly called the Stockwell ghost, for example, might possibly be brought under this category. I have heard some people assert that the mystery of this affair was subsequently explained away, and the whole found to be a trick: but that is a mistake. Some years ago, I was acquainted with persons whose parents were living on the spot at that time, who knew all the details, and to them it remained as great a mystery as ever; not the smallest light had ever been thrown upon it. People are so glad to get rid of troublesome mysteries of this description, that they are always ready to say, “The trick has been found out!” and those who pride themselves on not believing idle stories, are to the last degree credulous when “the idle story” flatters their skepticism.

The circumstances of the so-called Stockwell ghost, which I extract from a report published at the time, are as follows:—

The pamphlet was entitled: “An authentic, candid, and Circumstantial Narrative of the astonishing Transactions at Stockwell, in the County of Surrey, on Monday and Tuesday, the 6th and 7th days of January, 1772; containing a Series of the most surprising and unaccountable Events that ever happened, which continued, from first to last, upward of twenty hours, and at different places: published with the consent and approbation of the family and other parties concerned, to authenticate which the original copy is signed by them.

“Before we enter upon a description of the most extraordinary transactions that perhaps ever happened, we shall begin with an account of the parties who were principally concerned, and, in justice to them, give their characters, by which means the impartial world may see what credit is due to the following narrative:—

“The events, indeed, are of so strange and singular a nature, that we can not be at all surprised the public should be doubtful of the truth of them, more especially as there have been too many impositions of this sort; but, let us consider, here are no sinister ends to be answered, no contributions to be wished for, nor would be accepted, as the parties are in reputable situations and good circumstances, particularly Mrs. Golding, who is a lady of an independent fortune: Richard Fowler and his wife might be looked upon as an exception to this assertion; but, as their loss was trivial, they must be left out of the question, except so far as they appear corroborating evidences. Mr. Pain’s maid lost nothing.

“How or by what means these transactions were brought about, has never transpired: we have only to rest our confidence on the veracity of the parties, whose descriptions have been most strictly attended to, without the least deviation: nothing here offered is either exaggerated or diminished—the whole stated in the clearest manner, just as they occurred: as such only we lay them before the candid and impartial public.

“Mrs. Golding, an elderly lady at Stockwell, in Surrey, at whose house the transactions began, was born in the same parish (Lambeth), has lived in it ever since, and has always been well known and respected as a gentlewoman of unblemished honor and character. Mrs. Pain, a niece of Mrs. Golding, has been married several years to Mr. Pain, a farmer, at Brixton causeway, a little above Mr. Angel’s—has several children, and is well known and respected in the parish. Mary Martin, Mr. Pain’s servant, an elderly woman, has lived two years with them and four years with Mrs. Golding, where she came from. Richard Fowler lives almost opposite to Mr. Pain, at the Brick pound—an honest, industrious, and sober man. And Sarah Fowler, wife to the above, is an industrious and sober woman.

“These are the subscribing evidences that we must rest the truth of the facts upon; yet there are numbers of other persons who were eye-witnesses of many of the transactions during the time they happened, all of whom must acknowledge the truth of them.

“Another person who bore a principal part in these scenes was Ann Robinson, Mrs. Golding’s maid, a young woman about twenty years old, who had lived with her but one week and three days. So much for the historiæ personæ, and now for the narrative.

“On Monday, January the 6th, 1772, about ten o’clock in the forenoon, as Mrs. Golding was in her parlor, she heard the china and glasses in the back kitchen tumble down and break; her maid came to her and told her the stone plates were falling from the shelf; Mrs. Golding went into the kitchen and saw them broke. Presently after, a row of plates from the next shelf fell down likewise, while she was there, and nobody near them; this astonished her much, and while she was thinking about it, other things in different places began to tumble about, some of them breaking, attended with violent noises all over the house; a clock tumbled down and the case broke; a lantern that hung on the staircase was thrown down and the glass broken to pieces; an earthen pan of salted beef broke to pieces and the beef fell about: all this increased her surprise and brought several persons about her, among whom was Mr. Rowlidge, a carpenter, who gave it as his opinion that the foundation was giving way and that the house was tumbling down, occasioned by the too great weight of an additional room erected above: so ready are we to discover natural causes for everything! But no such thing happened, as the reader will find; for whatever was the cause, that cause ceased almost as soon as Mrs. Golding and her maid left any place, and followed them wherever they went. Mrs. Golding ran into Mr. Gresham’s house, a gentleman living next door to her, where she fainted.

“In the interim, Mr. Rowlidge and other persons were removing Mrs. Golding’s effects from her house, for fear of the consequences he had prognosticated. At this time all was quiet; Mrs. Golding’s maid, remaining in the house, was gone up stairs, and when called upon several times to come down, for fear of the dangerous situation she was thought to be in, she answered very coolly, and after some time came down as deliberately, without any seeming fearful apprehensions.

“Mrs. Pain was sent for from Brixton Causeway, and desired to come directly, as her aunt was supposed to be dead: this was the message to her. When Mrs. Pain came, Mrs. Golding was come to herself, but very faint.

“Among the persons who were present was Mr. Gardner, a surgeon, of Clapham, whom Mrs. Pain desired to bleed her aunt, which he did. Mrs. Pain asked him if the blood should be thrown away: he desired it might not, as he would examine it when cold. These minute particulars would not be taken notice of, but as a chain to what follows. For the next circumstance is of a more astonishing nature than anything that had preceded it: the blood that was just congealed, sprang out of the basin upon the floor, and presently after the basin broke to pieces! This china basin was the only thing broke belonging to Mr. Gresham; a bottle of rum that stood by it broke at the same time.

“Among the things that were removed to Mr. Gresham’s, was a tray full of china, a japan bread-basket, some mahogany waiters, with some bottles of liquors, jars of pickles, &c., and a pier-glass, which was taken down by Mr. Saville (a neighbor of Mrs. Golding’s); he gave it to one Robert Hames, who laid it on the grass-plat at Mrs. Gresham’s: but, before he could put it out of his hands, some parts of the frame on each side flew off! It rained at that time; Mrs. Golding desired it might be brought into the parlor, where it was put under a sideboard, and a dressing-glass along with it. It had not been there long, before the glasses and china which stood on the sideboard began to tumble about and fall down, and broke both the glasses to pieces. Mr. Saville and others being asked to drink a glass of wine or rum, both the bottles broke in pieces before they were uncorked!

“Mrs. Golding’s surprise and fear increasing, she did not know what to do, or where to go. Wherever she and her maid were, these strange, destructive circumstances followed her, and how to help or free herself from them was not in her power or any other person’s present. Her mind was one confused chaos, lost to herself and everything about her—drove from her own home, and afraid there would be no other to receive her. At last she left Mr. Gresham’s and went to Mr. Mayling’s, a gentleman at the next door; here she stayed about three quarters of an hour, during which time nothing happened. Her maid stayed at Mr. Gresham’s to put up what few things remained unbroken of her mistress’s, in a back apartment, when a jar of pickles that stood upon a table turned upside down; then a jar of raspberry jam broke to pieces; next two mahogany waiters and a quadrille-box likewise broke in pieces.

“Mrs. Pain, not choosing her aunt should stay too long at Mr. Mayling’s, for fear of being troublesome, persuaded her to go to her house at Rush Common, near Brixton Causeway, where she would endeavor to make her as happy as she could, hoping by this time all was over, as nothing had happened at that gentleman’s house while she was there. This was about two o’clock in the afternoon.

“Mr. and Miss Gresham were at Mr. Pain’s house when Mrs. Pain, Mrs. Golding, and her maid, went there. It being about dinner-time, they all dined together; in the interim, Mrs. Golding’s servant was sent to her house to see how things remained. When she returned, she told them nothing had happened since they left it. Some time after, Mr. Gresham and miss went home, everything remaining quiet at Mr. Pain’s; but about eight o’clock in the evening a fresh scene began. The first thing that happened was, a whole row of pewter dishes, except one, fell from off a shelf to the middle of the floor, rolled about a little while, then settled; and, what is almost beyond belief, as soon as they were quiet, turned upside down! They were then put on the dresser, and went through the same a second time. Next fell a whole row of pewter plates from off the second shelf over the dresser to the ground, and, being taken up and put on the dresser one in another, they were thrown down again.

“The next thing was, two eggs that were upon one of the pewter shelves, one of them flew off, crossed the kitchen, struck a cat on the head, and then broke in pieces.

“Next, Mary Martin, Mrs. Pain’s servant, went to stir the kitchen fire; she got to the right-hand side of it, being a large chimney, as is usual in farmhouses. A pestle and mortar that stood nearer the left-hand end of the chimney-shelf, jumped about six feet on the floor! Then went candlesticks and other brasses, scarcely anything remaining in its place. After this, the glasses and china were put down on the floor for fear of undergoing the same fate: they presently began to dance and tumble about, and then broke to pieces. A teapot that was among them flew to Mrs. Golding’s maid’s foot, and struck it.

“A glass tumbler that was put on the floor jumped about two feet and then broke. Another that stood by it jumped about at the same time, but did not break till some hours after, when it jumped again, and then broke. A china bowl that stood in the parlor jumped from the floor to behind a table that stood there. This was most astonishing, as the distance from where it stood was between seven and eight feet, but was not broke. It was put back by Richard Fowler to its place, where it remained some time, and then flew to pieces.

“The next thing that followed was a mustard-pot, that jumped out of a closet and was broke. A single cup that stood upon the table (almost the only thing remaining) jumped up, flew across the kitchen, ringing like a bell, and then was dashed to pieces against the dresser. A candlestick that stood on the chimney-shelf flew across the kitchen to the parlor-door, at about fifteen feet distance. A teakettle under the dresser was thrown out about two feet; another kettle, that stood at one end of the range, was thrown against the iron that is fixed to prevent children from falling into the fire. A tumbler with rum-and-water in it, that stood upon a waiter upon a table in the parlor, jumped about ten feet, and was broke. The table then fell down, and along with it a silver tankard belonging to Mrs. Golding—the waiter in which stood the tumbler, and a candlestick. A case-bottle then flew to pieces.

“The next circumstance was, a ham that hung in one side of the kitchen-chimney raised itself from the hook and fell down to the ground. Some time after, another ham, that hung on the other side of the chimney, likewise underwent the same fate. Then a flitch of bacon, which hung up in the same chimney, fell down.

“All the family were eye-witnesses to these circumstances, as well as other persons, some of whom were so alarmed and shocked, that they could not bear to stay, and were happy in getting away, though the unhappy family were left in the midst of their distresses. Most of the genteel families around were continually sending to inquire after them, and whether all was over or not. Is it not surprising that some among them had not the inclination and resolution to try to unravel this most intricate affair, at a time when it would have been in their power to have done so? There certainly was sufficient time for so doing, as the whole, from first to last, continued upward of twenty hours.

“At all the times of action, Mrs. Golding’s servant was walking backward and forward, in either the kitchen or parlor, or wherever some of the family happened to be. Nor could they get her to sit down five minutes together, except at one time for about half an hour toward the morning, when the family were at prayers in the parlor; then all was quiet: but in the midst of the greatest confusion, she was as much composed as at any other time, and with uncommon coolness of temper advised her mistress not to be alarmed or uneasy, as she said these things could not be helped. Thus she argued, as if they were common occurrences, which must happen in every family!

“This advice surprised and startled her mistress almost as much as the circumstances that occasioned it. For how can we suppose that a girl of about twenty years old (an age when female timidity is too often assisted by superstition) could remain in the midst of such calamitous circumstances (except they proceed from causes best known to herself), and not be struck with the same terror as every other person was who was present? These reflections led Mr. Pain (and, at the end of the transactions, likewise Mrs. Golding) to think that she was not altogether so unconcerned as she appeared to be; but, hitherto, the whole remains mysterious and unrivalled.

“About ten o’clock at night, they sent over the way to Richard Fowler, to desire he would come and stay with them. He came and continued till one in the morning, and was so terrified that he could remain no longer.

“As Mrs. Golding could not be persuaded to go to bed, Mrs. Pain at that time (one o’clock) made an excuse to go up stairs to her youngest child, under pretence of getting it to sleep, but she really acknowledges it was through fear, as she declares she could not sit up to see such strange things going on, as everything, one after another, was broke, till there was not above two or three cups and saucers remaining out of a considerable quantity of china, &c, which was destroyed to the amount of some pounds.

“About five o’clock on Tuesday morning, Mrs. Golding went up to her niece, and desired her to get up, as the noises and destruction were so great, she could continue in the house no longer. At this time all the tables, chairs, drawers, &c., were tumbling about. When Mrs. Pain came down, it was amazing beyond all description. Their only security then was to quit the house, for fear of the same catastrophe as had been expected the morning before at Mrs. Golding’s. In consequence of this resolution, Mrs. Golding and her maid went over the way to Richard Fowler’s. When Mrs. Golding’s maid had seen her safe to Richard Fowler’s, she came back to Mrs. Pain, to help her to dress the children in the barn, where she had carried them for fear of the house falling. At this time all was quiet. They then went to Fowler’s, and then began the same scene as had happened at the other places. It must be remarked, all was quiet here as well as elsewhere, till the maid returned.

“When they got to Mr. Fowler’s, he began to light a fire in his back room. When done, he put the candle and candlestick upon a table in the fore-room. This apartment Mrs. Golding and her maid had passed through. Another candlestick, with a tin lamp in it, that stood by it, were both dashed together, and fell to the ground. A lantern, with which Mrs. Golding was lighted across the road, sprang from a hook to the ground, and a quantity of oil spilled on the floor. The last thing was, the basket of coals tumbled over, the coals rolling about the room The maid then desired Richard Fowler not to let her mistress remain there, as she said wherever she was the same things would follow. In consequence of this advice, and fearing greater losses to himself, he desired she would quit his house; but first begged her to consider within herself, for her own and the public’s sake, whether or not she had been guilty of some atrocious crime, for which Providence was determined to pursue her on this side of the grave: for he could not help thinking she was the object that was to be made an example to posterity, by the all-seeing eye of Providence, for crimes which but too often none but that Providence can penetrate, and by such means as these bring to light.

“Thus was the poor gentlewoman’s measure of affliction complete, not only to have undergone all which has been related, but to have added to it the character of a bad and wicked woman, when till this time she was esteemed as a most deserving person. In candor to Fowler, he could not be blamed. What could he do? what would any man have done that was so circumstanced? Mrs. Golding soon satisfied him: she told him she would not stay in his house or any other person’s, as her conscience was quite clear, and she could as well wait the will of Providence in her own house as in any other place whatever; upon which she and her maid went home. Mr. Pain went with them. After they had got to Mrs. Golding’s the last time, the same transactions once more began upon the remains that were left.

“A nine-gallon cask of beer, that was in the cellar, the door being open, and no person near it, turned upside down. A pail of water, that stood on the floor, boiled like a pot! A box of candles fell from a shelf in the kitchen to the floor; they rolled out, but none were broke: and a round mahogany table overset in the parlor.

“Mr. Pain then desired Mrs. Golding to send her maid for his wife to come to them. When she was gone, all was quiet. Upon her return she was immediately discharged, and no disturbances have happened since. This was between six and seven o’clock on Tuesday morning.

“At Mrs. Golding’s were broke the quantity of three pailfuls of glass, china, &c. At Mrs. Pain’s they filled two pails.

“Thus ends the narrative—a true, circumstantial, and faithful account of which we have laid before the public; and have endeavored as much as possible, throughout the whole, to state only facts, without presuming to obtrude any opinion on them. If we have in part hinted anything that may appear unfavorable to the girl, it is not from a determination to charge her with the cause, right or wrong, but only from a strict adherence to truth, most sincerely wishing this extraordinary affair may be unravelled.

“The above narrative is absolutely and strictly true, in witness whereof we have set our hands this eleventh day of January, 1772:—

	“Mary Golding,
	“John Pain,
	“Mary Pain,
	“Richard Fowler,
	“Sarah Fowler,
	“Mary Martin.”

“The original copy of this narrative, signed as above, with the parties’ own hands, was put into the hands of Mr. Marks, bookseller, in St. Martin’s Lane, to satisfy persons who choose to inspect the same.”

Such phenomena as this of the Stockwell ghost are by no means uncommon, and I am acquainted with many more instances than I can allude to here. One occurred very lately in the neighborhood of London, as I learned from the following newspaper paragraph. I subsequently heard that the little girl had been sent away; but whether the phenomena then ceased, or whether she carried the disturbance with her, I have not been able to ascertain, nor does it appear certain that she had anything to do with it:—

“A Mischievous and Mysterious Ghost.—(From a correspondent.)—The whole of the neighborhood of Black Lion-lane, Bayswater, is ringing with the extraordinary occurrences that have recently happened in the house of a Mr. Williams, in the Moscow-road, and which bear a strong resemblance to the celebrated Stockwell ghost affair in 1772. The house is inhabited by Mr. and Mrs. Williams, a grown-up son and daughter, and a little girl between ten and eleven years of age. On the first day, the family, who are remarkable for their piety, were startled all at once by a mysterious movement among the things in the sitting-rooms and kitchen, and other parts of the house. At one time, without any visible agency, one of the jugs came off the hook over the dresser, and was broken; then followed another, and next day another. A china teapot, with the tea just made in it, and placed on the mantel-piece, whisked off on to the floor, and was smashed. A pewter one, which had been substituted immediately after, did the same, and, when put on the table, was seen to hop about as if bewitched, and was actually held down while the tea was made for Mr. Williams’s breakfast, before leaving for his place of business. When for a time all had been quiet, off came from its place on the wall, a picture in a heavy gilt frame, and fell to the floor without being broken. All was now amazement and terror, for the old people are very superstitious, and ascribing it to a supernatural agency, the other pictures were removed, and stowed away on the floor. But the spirit of locomotion was not to be arrested. Jugs and plates continued at intervals to quit their posts, and skip off their hooks and shelves into the middle of the room, as though they were inspired by the magic flute, and at supper, when the little girl’s mug was filled with beer, the mug slided off the table on to the floor. Three times it was replaced, and three times it moved off again. It would be tedious to relate the fantastic tricks which have been played by household articles of every kind. An Egyptian vase jumped off the table suddenly, when no soul was near, and was smashed to pieces. The teakettle popped off the fire into the grate as Mr. Williams had filled the teapot, which fell off the chimney-piece. Candlesticks, after a dance on the table, flew off, and ornaments from the shelves, and bonnets and cap-boxes flung about in the oddest manner. A looking-glass hopped off a dressing-table, followed by combs and brushes and several bottles, and a great pincushion has been remarkably conspicuous for its incessant jigs from one part to another. The little girl, who is a Spaniard, and under the care of Mr. and Mrs. Williams, is supposed by their friends to be the cause of it all, however extraordinary it may seem in one of her age, but up to the present time it continues a mystery, and the modus operandi is invisible.”—Morning Post.

To imagine that these extraordinary effects were produced by the voluntary agency of the child, furnishes one of those remarkable instances of the credulity of the skeptical, to which I have referred. But when we read a true statement of the effects involuntarily exhibited by Angelique Cottin, we begin to see that it is just possible the other strange phenomena may be provided by a similar agency.

The French Academy of Sciences had determined, as they had formerly done by Mesmerism, that the thing should not be true. Monsieur Arago was nonsuited; but although it is extremely possible that either the phenomenon had run its course and arrived at a natural termination, or that the removal of the girl to Paris had extinguished it, there appears no doubt that it had previously existed.

Angelique Cottin was a native of La Perriere, aged fourteen, when, on the 15th of January, 1846, at eight o’clock in the evening, while weaving silk-gloves at an oaken frame, in company with other girls, the frame began to jerk, and they could not by any efforts keep it steady. It seemed as if it were alive, and becoming alarmed, they called in the neighbors, who would not believe them; but desired them to sit down and go on with their work. Being timid, they went one by one, and the frame remained still till Angelique approached, when it recommenced its movements, while she was also attracted by the frame: thinking she was bewitched or possessed, her parents took her to the presbytery that the spirit might be exorcised. The curate, however, being a sensible man, refused to do it, but set himself, on the contrary, to observe the phenomenon, and being perfectly satisfied of the fact, he bade them take her to a physician.

Meanwhile, the intensity of the influence, whatever it was, augmented; not only articles made of oak, but all sorts of things were acted upon by it and reacted upon her, while persons who were near her, even without contact, frequently felt electric shocks. The effects, which were diminished when she was on a carpet or a waxed cloth, were most remarkable when she was on the bare earth. They sometimes entirely ceased for two or three days, and then recommenced. Metals were not affected. Anything touched by her apron or dress would fly off, although a person held it; and Monsieur Hebert, while seated on a heavy tub or trough, was raised up with it. In short, the only place she could repose on, was a stone covered with cork; they also kept her still by isolating her. When she was fatigued the effects diminished. A needle suspended horizontally, oscillated rapidly with the motion of her arm, without contact, or remained fixed, while deviating from the magnetic direction. Great numbers of enlightened medical and scientific men witnessed these phenomena, and investigated them with every precaution to prevent imposition. She was often hurt by the violent involuntary movements she was thrown into, and was evidently afflicted by chorea.

Unfortunately, her parents, poor and ignorant, insisted much against the advice of the doctors, on exhibiting her for money; and under these circumstances, she was brought to Paris; and nothing is more probable than that after the phenomena had really ceased, the girl may have been induced to simulate what had originally been genuine. The thing avowedly ceased altogether on the 10th of April, and there has been no return of it.

In 1831, a young girl, also aged fourteen, who lived as under nursery-maid in a French family, exhibited the same phenomena, and when the case of Angelique Cottin was made public, her master published hers. He says that things of such an extraordinary nature occurred as he dare not repeat, since none but an eye-witness could believe them. The thing lasted for three years, and there was ample time for observation.

In the year 1686, a man at Brussels, called Breekmans, was similarly affected. A commission was appointed by the magistrates to investigate his condition; and, being pronounced a sorcerer, he would have been burnt, had he not luckily made his escape.

Many somnambulic persons are capable of giving an electric shock; and I have met with one person, not somnambulic, who informs me that he has frequently been able to do it by an effort of the will.

Dr. Ennemoser relates the case of a Mademoiselle Emmerich, sister to the professor of theology at Strasburg, who also possessed this power. This young lady, who appears to have been a person of very rare merit and endowments, was afflicted with a long and singular malady, originating in a fright, in the course of which she exhibited many very curious phenomena, having fallen into a state of natural somnambulism, accompanied by a high degree of lucidity. Her body became so surcharged with electricity, that it was necessary to her relief to discharge it; and she sometimes imparted a complete battery of shocks to her brother and her physician, or whoever was near her, and that frequently when they did not touch her. Professor Emmerich mentions also that she sent him a smart shock, one day, when he was several rooms off. He started up and rushed into her chamber, where she was in bed; and as soon as she saw him she said, laughing: “Ah, you felt it, did you?” Mademoiselle Emmerich’s illness terminated in death.

Cotugno, a surgeon, relates that, having touched with his scalpel the intercostal nerve of a mouse that had bitten his leg, he received an electric shock; and where the torpedo abounds, the fishermen, in pouring water over the fish they have caught for the purpose of washing them, know if one is among them by the shock they sustain.

A very extraordinary circumstance, which we may possibly attribute to some such influence as the above, occurred at Rambouillet in November, 1846. The particulars are furnished by a gentleman residing on the spot at the time, and were published by the Baron Dupotel—who, however, attempts no explanation of the mystery:—

One morning some travelling merchants, or pedlars, came to the door of a farmhouse, belonging to a man named Bottel, and asked for some bread, which the maid-servant gave them, and they went away. Subsequently one of the party returned to ask for more, and was refused. The man, I believe, expressed some resentment and uttered vague threats, but she would not give him anything and he departed. That night at supper the plates began to dance and roll off the table, without any visible cause, and several other unaccountable phenomena occurred; and the girl going to the door and chancing to place herself just where the pedlar had stood, she was seized with convulsions and an extraordinary rotatory motion. The carter who was standing by laughed at her, and out of bravado placed himself on the same spot, when he felt almost suffocated, and was so unable to command his movements that he was overturned into a large pool in front of the house.

Upon this they rushed to the curé of the parish for assistance; but he had scarcely said a prayer or two before he was attacked in the same manner, though in his own house; and his furniture beginning to oscillate and crack as if it were bewitched, the poor people were frightened out of their wits.

By-and-by the phenomena intermitted, and they hoped all was over; but presently it began again, and this occurred more than once before it subsided wholly.

On the 8th December, 1836, at Stuttgard, Carl Fischer, a baker’s boy, aged seventeen, of steady habits and good character, was fixed with a basket on his shoulders, in some unaccountable way, in front of his master’s house. He foresaw the thing was to happen when he went out with his bread very early in the morning; earnestly wished that the day was over, and told his companion that if he could only cross the threshold, on his return, he should escape it. It was about six when he did return; and his master, hearing a fearful noise which he could not describe—“as if proceeding from a multitude of beings”—looked out of the window, where he saw Carl violently struggling and fighting with his apron, though his feet were immoveably fixed to one spot. A hissing sound proceeded from his mouth and nose, and a voice, which was neither his nor that of any person present, was heard to cry, “Stand fast, Carl!” The master says that he could not have believed such a thing; and he was so alarmed that he did not venture into the street, where numerous persons were assembled. The boy said he must remain there till eleven o’clock; and the police kept guard over him till that time, as the physician said he must not be interfered with, and the people sought to push him from the spot. When the time had expired, he was carried to the hospital, where he seemed exceedingly exhausted and fell into a profound sleep.

I meet with numerous extraordinary records of a preternatural ringing of all the bells in a house; sometimes occurring periodically for a considerable time, and continuing after precautions have been taken which precluded the possibility of trick or deception, the wires being cut, and vigilant eyes watching them; and yet they rung on, by day or night, just the same.

It is certainly very difficult to conceive, but at the same time it is not impossible, that such strange phenomena as that of the Stockwell ghost, and many similar ones, may be the manifestations of some extraordinary electrical influence; but there are other cases of poltergeist which it is impossible to attribute to the same cause, since they are accompanied by evident manifestations of will and intelligence. Such was the instance related in Southey’s Life of Wesley, which occurred in the year 1716, beginning with a groaning, and subsequently proceeding to all manner of noises, lifting of latches, clattering of windows, knockings of a most mysterious kind, &c., &c. The family were not generally frightened, but the young children, when asleep, showed symptoms of great terror. This annoyance lasted, I think, two or three months, and then ceased. As in most of these cases, the dog was extremely frightened, and hid himself when the visitations commenced.

In the year 1838, a circumstance of the same kind occurred in Paris, in the Rue St. Honoré; and not very long ago there was one in Caithness, in which most unaccountable circumstances transpired. Among the rest, stones were flung, which never hit people, but fell at their feet, in rooms perfectly closed on all sides. A gentleman who witnessed these extraordinary phenomena, related the whole story to an advocate of my acquaintance, who assured me that, however impossible he found it to credit such things, he should certainly place entire reliance on that gentleman’s word in any other case.

Then there is the famous story of the drummer of Tedworth;[^[6]] and the persecution of Professor Schuppart, at Giessen, in Upper Hesse, which continued, with occasional intermission, for six years. This affair began with a violent knocking at the door one night; next day stones were sent whizzing through closed rooms in all directions, so that, although no one was struck, the windows were all broken; and no sooner were new panes put in, than they were broken again. He was persecuted with slaps on the face, by day and by night, so that he could get no rest; and when two persons were appointed by the authorities to sit by his bed to watch him, they got the slaps also. When he was reading at his desk, his lamp would suddenly rise up and remove to the other end of the room—not as if thrown, but evidently carried. His books were torn to pieces and flung at his feet; and when he was lecturing, this mischievous sprite would tear out the leaf he was reading; and it is very remarkable, that the only thing that seemed available as a protection, was a drawn sword brandished over his head by himself or others, which was one of the singularities attending the case of the drummer of Tedworth. Schuppart narrated all these circumstances in his public lectures, and nobody ever disputed the facts.

A remarkable case of this sort occurred in the year 1670, at Keppock, near Glasgow. There, also, stones were thrown which hit nobody, but the annoyance only continued eight days; and there are several more to be found recorded in works of that period. The disturbance that happened in the house of Gilbert Cambell, at Glenluce, excited considerable notice. Here, as elsewhere, stones were thrown; but, as in most similar instances I meet with, no human being was damaged—the license of these spirits, or goblins, or whatever they be, seeming to extend no further than worrying and tormenting their victims. In this case, however, the spirit spoke to them, though he was never seen. The annoyance commenced in November, of the year 1654, I think, and continued till April, when there was some intermission till July, when it recommenced. The loss of the family from the things destroyed was ruining; for their household goods and chattels were rendered useless, their food was polluted and spoiled, and their very clothes cut to pieces while on their backs, by invisible hands; and it was in vain that all the ministers about the country assembled to exorcise this troublesome spirit, for whoever was there the thing continued exactly the same.

At length poor Cambell applied to the synod of presbyters for advice; and a meeting was convened in October, 1655, and a solemn day of humiliation was imposed through the whole bounds of the presbytery, for the sake of the afflicted family. Whether it was owing to this or not, there ensued an alleviation from that time till April, and from April till August they were entirely free, and hoped all was over; but then it began again worse than ever, and they were dreadfully tormented through the autumn; after which the disturbance ceased, and although the family lived in the house many years afterward, nothing of the sort ever happened again.

There was another famous case, which occurred at a place called Ring-Croft, in Kirkcudbright, in the year 1695. The afflicted family bore the name of Mackie. In this instance, the stones did sometimes hit them, and they were beaten as if by staves; they, as well as strangers who came to the house, were lifted off the ground by their clothes; their bed-coverings were taken off their beds; things were visibly carried about the house by invisible hands; several people were hurt, even to the effusion of blood, by stones and blows; there were fire-balls seen about the house, which were several times ignited; people, both of the family and others, felt themselves grasped as if by a hand; then there was groaning, crying, whistling, and a voice that frequently spoke to them. Crowds of people went to the house; but the thing continued just the same whether there were many or few, and sometimes the whole building shook as if it were coming down.

A day of humiliation was appointed in this case also, but without the least effect. The disturbance commenced in February, and ended on the 1st of May. Numberless people witnessed the phenomenon, and the account of it is attested by fourteen ministers and gentlemen.

The same sort of thing occurred in the year 1659, in a place inhabited by an evangelical bishop, called Schlotterbeck. It began in the same manner, by throwing of stones and other things, many of which came through the roof, insomuch that they believed at first that some animal was concealed there. However, nothing could be found, and the invisible guest soon proceeded to other annoyances similar to those abovementioned; and though they could not see him, his footsteps were for ever heard about the house. At length, wearied out, the bishop applied to the government for aid; and they sent him a company of soldiers to guard the house by day and night, out of which he and his family retired. But the goblin cared no more for the soldiers than it had done for the city watch; the thing continued without intermission, whoever was there, till it ceased of its own accord. There was a house at Aix-la-Chapelle that was for several years quite uninhabitable from a similar cause.

I could mention many other cases, and, as I have said before, they occur in all countries; but these will suffice as specimens of the class. It is in vain for people who were not on the spot to laugh, and assert that these were the mischievous tricks of servants or others, when those who were there, and who had such a deep interest in unravelling the mystery, and such abundance of time and opportunity for doing it, could find no solution whatever. In many of the above cases, the cattle were unloosed, the horses were turned out of their stables, and uniformly all the animals in the way exhibited great terror, sweating and trembling, while the visitation continued.

Since we can not but believe that man forms but one class in an immense range of existences, do not these strange occurrences suggest the idea that occasionally some individual out of this gamut of beings comes into rapport with us, or crosses our path like a comet, and that, while certain conditions last, it can hover about us, and play these puckish, mischievous tricks, till the charm is broken, and then it re-enters its own sphere, and we are cognizant of it no more!

But one of the most extraordinary examples of this kind of annoyance is that which occurred, in the year 1806, in the castle of Prince Hohenlohe, in Silesia. The account is given at length by Councillor Hahn, of Ingelfingen, who witnessed the circumstances; and in consequence of the various remarks that have been since made on the subject, in different publications, he has repeatedly reasserted the facts in letters, which have been printed and laid before the public. I can not, therefore, see what right we have to disbelieve a man of honor and character, as he is said to be, merely because the circumstances he narrates are unaccountable, more especially as the story, strange as it is, by no means stands alone in the annals of demonology. The following details were written down at the time the events occurred, and they were communicated by Councillor Hahn to Dr. Kerner in the year 1828:—

“After the campaign of the Prussians against the French, in the year 1806, the reigning prince of Hohenlohe gave orders to Councillor Hahn, who was in his service, to proceed to Slawensick, and there to wait his return. His serene highness advanced from Leignitz toward his principality, and Hahn also commenced his journey toward Upper Silesia on the 19th November. At the same period, Charles Kern, of Kuntzlau, who had fallen into the hands of the French, being released on parole, and arriving at Leignitz in an infirm condition, he was allowed to spend some time with Hahn, while awaiting his exchange.

“Hahn and Kern had been friends in their youth, and their destinies having brought them both at this time into the Prussian states, they were lodged together in the same apartment of the castle, which was one on the first floor, forming an angle at the back of the building, one side looking toward the north and the other to the east. On the right of the door of this room was a glass door, which led into a chamber divided from those which followed by a wainscot partition. The door in this wainscot, which communicated to those adjoining rooms, was entirely closed up, because in them all sorts of household utensils were kept. Neither in this chamber, nor in the sitting-room which preceded it, was there any opening whatever which could furnish the means of communication from without; nor was there anybody in the castle besides the two friends, except the prince’s two coachmen and Hahn’s servant. The whole party were fearless people; and as for Hahn and Kern, they believed in nothing less than ghosts or witches, nor had any previous experience induced them to turn their thoughts in that direction. Hahn, during his collegiate life, had been much given to philosophy—had listened to Fichte, and earnestly studied the writings of Kant. The result of his reflections was a pure materialism; and he looked upon created man, not as an aim, but merely as a means to a yet undeveloped end. These opinions he has since changed, like many others who think very differently in their fortieth year to what they did in their twentieth. The particulars here given are necessary in order to obtain credence for the following extraordinary narrative; and to establish the fact that the phenomena were not merely accepted by ignorant superstition, but coolly and courageously investigated by enlightened minds. During the first days of their residence in the castle, the two friends, living together in solitude, amused their long evenings with the works of Schiller, of whom they were both great admirers; and Hahn usually read aloud. Three days had thus passed quietly away, when, as they were sitting at the table, which stood in the middle of the room, about nine o’clock in the evening, their reading was interrupted by a small shower of lime which fell around them. They looked at the ceiling, concluding it must have come thence, but could perceive no abraded parts; and while they were yet seeking to ascertain whence the lime had proceeded, there suddenly fell several larger pieces, which were quite cold, and appeared as if they had belonged to the external wall. At length, concluding the lime must have fallen from some part of the wall, giving up further inquiry, they went to bed, and slept quietly till morning, when, on awaking, they were somewhat surprised at the quantity which strewed the floor, more especially as they could still discover no part of the walls or ceiling from which it could have fallen. But they thought no more of the matter till evening, when, instead of the lime falling as before, it was thrown, and several pieces struck Hahn. At the same time they heard heavy blows, sometimes below, and sometimes over their heads, like the sound of distant guns; still, attributing these sounds to natural causes, they went to bed as usual, but the uproar prevented their sleeping, and each accused the other of occasioning it by kicking with his feet against the foot-board of his bed, till, finding that the noise continued when they both got out and stood together in the middle of the room, they were satisfied that this was not the case. On the following evening, a third noise was added, which resembled the faint and distant beating of a drum. Upon this, they requested the governess of the castle to send them the key of the apartments above and below, which was brought them by her son; and while he and Kern went to make their investigations, Hahn remained in their own room. Above, they found an empty room; below, a kitchen. They knocked, but the noise they made was very different to that which Hahn continued all the while to hear around him. When they returned, Hahn said, jestingly, ‘The place is haunted!’ On this night, when they went to bed, with a light burning, they heard what seemed like a person walking about the room with slippers on, and a stick, with which he struck the floor as he moved step by step. Hahn continued to jest, and Kern to laugh, at the oddness of these circumstances, for some time, when they both, as usual, fell asleep, neither in the slightest degree disturbed by these events, nor inclined to attribute them to any supernatural cause. But on the following evening the affair became more inexplicable: various articles in the room were thrown about; knives, forks, brushes, caps, slippers, padlocks, funnel, snuffers, soap—everything, in short, that was moveable; while lights darted from the corners, and everything was in confusion; at the same time, the lime fell and the blows continued. Upon this, the two friends called up the servants, Knittel, the castle watch, and whoever else was at hand, to be witnesses of these mysterious operations. In the morning all was quiet, and generally continued so till after midnight. One evening, Kern going into the chamber to fetch something, and hearing an uproar that almost drove him backward to the door, Hahn caught up the light, and both rushed into the room, where they found a large piece of wood lying close to the wainscot. But supposing this to be the cause of the noise, who had set it in motion? For Kern was sure the door was shut, even while the noise was making; neither had there been any wood in the room. Frequently, before their eyes, the knives and snuffers rose from the table, and fell, after some minutes, to the ground; and Hahn’s large shears were once lifted in this manner between him and one of the prince’s cooks, and falling to the ground, stuck into the floor. As some nights, however, passed quite quietly, Hahn was determined not to leave the rooms; but when, for three weeks, the disturbance was so constant that they could get no rest, they resolved on removing their beds into the large room above, in hopes of once more enjoying a little quiet sleep. Their hopes were vain—the thumping continued as before; and not only so, but articles flew about the room which they were quite sure they had left below. ‘They may fling as they will,’ cried Hahn, ‘sleep I must;’ while Kern began to undress, pondering on these matters as he walked up and down the room. Suddenly Hahn saw him stand, as if transfixed, before the looking-glass on which he had accidentally cast his eyes. He had so stood for some time, when he was seized with a violent trembling, and turned from the mirror with his face as white as death. Hahn, fancying the cold of an uninhabited room had seized him, hastened to throw a cloak over him, when Kern, who was naturally very courageous, recovered himself, and related, though with trembling lips, that as he had accidentally looked in the glass, he had seen a white female figure looking out of it; she was in front of his own image, which he distinctly saw behind her. At first he could not believe his eyes; he thought it must be fancy, and for that reason he had stood so long; but when he saw that the eyes of the figure moved, and looked into his, a shudder had seized him, and he had turned away. Hahn, upon this, advanced with firm steps to the front of the mirror, and called upon the apparition to show itself to him; but he saw nothing, although he remained a quarter of an hour before the glass, and frequently repeated his exhortation. Kern then related that the features of the apparition were very old, but not gloomy or morose; the expression was that of indifference; but the face was very pale, and the head was wrapped in a cloth which left only the features visible.

“By this time it was four o’clock in the morning; sleep was banished from their eyes, and they resolved to return to the lower room and have their beds brought back again: but the people who were sent to fetch them returned, declaring they could not open the door, although it did not appear to be fastened. They were sent back again; but a second and a third time they returned with the same answer. Then Hahn went himself, and opened it with the greatest ease. The four servants, however, solemnly declared that all their united strength could make no impression on it.

“In this way a month had elapsed: the strange events at the castle had got spread abroad; and among others who desired to convince themselves of the facts were two Bavarian officers of dragoons, namely, Captain Cornet and Lieutenant Magerle, of the regiment of Minuci. Magerle offering to remain in the room alone, the others left him; but scarcely had they passed into the next apartment, when they heard Magerle storming like a man in a passion, and cutting away at the tables and chairs with his sabre, whereupon the captain thought it advisable to return, in order to rescue the furniture from his rage. They found the door shut, but he opened it on their summons, and related, in great excitement, that as soon as they had quitted the room, some cursed thing had begun to fling lime and other matters at him, and, having examined every part of the room without being able to discover the agent of the mischief, he had fallen into a rage and cut madly about him.

“The party now passed the rest of the evening together in the room, and the two Bavarians closely watched Hahn and Kern in order to satisfy themselves that the mystery was no trick of theirs. All at once, as they were quietly sitting at the table, the snuffers rose into the air and fell again to the ground behind Magerle, and a leaden ball flew at Hahn and hit him upon the breast, and presently afterward they heard a noise at the glass-door, as if somebody had struck his fist through it, together with a sound of falling glass. On investigation they found the door entire, but a broken drinking-glass on the floor. By this time the Bavarians were convinced, and they retired from the room to seek repose in one more peaceful.

“Among other things, the following, which occurred to Hahn, is remarkable. One evening about eight o’clock, being about to shave himself, the implements for the purpose, which were lying on a pyramidal stand in a corner of the room, flew at him, one after the other—the soap-box, the razor, the brush, and the soap—and fell at his feet, although he was standing several paces from the pyramid. He and Kern, who was sitting at the table, laughed, for they were now so accustomed to these events that they only made them subjects of diversion. In the meantime, Hahn poured some water, which had been standing on the stove, in a basin, observing, as he dipped his finger into it, that it was of a nice heat for shaving. He seated himself before the table and strapped his razor, but when he attempted to prepare the lather, the water was clean vanished out of the basin. Another time, Hahn was awakened by goblins throwing at him a squeezed-up piece of sheet-lead in which tobacco had been wrapped, and when he stooped to pick it up, the self-same piece was flung at him again. When this was repeated a third time, Hahn flung a heavy stick at his invisible assailant.

“Dorfel, the book-keeper, was frequently a witness to these strange events. He once laid his cap on the table by the stove; when, being about to depart, he sought for it, it had vanished. Four or five times he examined the table in vain; presently afterward he saw it lying exactly where he had placed it when he came in. On the same table, Knittel having once placed his cap and drawn himself a seat, suddenly, although there was nobody near the table, he saw the cap flying through the room to his feet, where it fell.

“Hahn now determined to find out the secret himself, and for this purpose seated himself, with two lights before him, in a position where he could see the whole of the room and all the doors and windows it contained;—but the same things occurred, even when Kern was out, the servants in the stables, and nobody in the room but himself; and the snuffers were as usual flung about, although the closest observation could not detect by whom.

“The forest-master, Radzensky, spent a night in the room, but, although the two friends slept, he could get no rest. He was bombarded without intermission, and in the morning his bed was found full of all manner of household articles.

“One morning, in spite of all the drumming and flinging, Hahn was determined to sleep; but a heavy blow on the wall close to his bed soon awoke him from his slumbers. A second time he went to sleep, and was awaked by a sensation as if some person had dipped his finger in water and was sprinkling his face with it. He pretended to sleep again, while he watched Kern and Knittel, who were sitting at the table; the sensation of sprinkling returned, but he could find no water on his face.

“About this time, Hahn had occasion to make a journey as far as Breslau; and when he returned he heard the strangest story of all. In order not to be alone in this mysterious chamber, Kern had engaged Hahn’s servant, a man of about forty years of age, and of entire singleness of character, to stay with him. One night as Kern lay in his bed, and this man was standing near the glass-door in conversation with him, to his utter amazement he beheld a jug of beer, which stood on a table in the room at some distance from him, slowly lifted to a height of about three feet, and the contents poured into a glass that was standing there also, until the latter was half full. The jug was then gently replaced, and the glass lifted and emptied as by some one drinking; while John, the servant, exclaimed in terrified surprise, ‘Lord Jesus! it swallows!’ The glass was quietly replaced, and not a drop of beer was to be found on the floor. Hahn was about to require an oath of John in confirmation of this fact; but forbore, seeing how ready the man was to take one, and satisfied of the truth of the relation.

“One night Knetsch, an inspector of the works, passed the night with the two friends, and in spite of the unintermitting flinging they all three went to bed. There were lights in the room, and presently all three saw two napkins, in the middle of the room, rise slowly up to the ceiling, and, having there spread themselves out, flutter down again. The china bowl of a pipe belonging to Kern flew about and was broken. Knives and forks were flung, and at last one of the latter fell on Hahn’s head, though fortunately with the handle downward: and having now endured this annoyance for two months, it was unanimously resolved to abandon this mysterious chamber, for this night at all events. John and Kern took up one of the beds and carried it into the opposite room, but they were no sooner gone than a pitcher for holding chalybeate-water flew to the feet of the two who remained behind, although no door was open, and a brass candlestick was flung to the ground. In the opposite room the night passed quietly, although some sounds still issued from the forsaken chamber. After this there was a cessation to these strange proceedings, and nothing more remarkable occurred, with the exception of the following circumstance. Some weeks after the abovementioned removal, as Hahn was returning home and crossing the bridge that leads to the castle-gate, he heard the foot of a dog behind him. He looked round, and called repeatedly on the name of a grayhound that was much attached to him, thinking it might be her; but, although he still heard the foot, even when he ascended the stairs, as he could see nothing, he concluded it was an illusion. Scarcely, however, had he set his foot within the room, than Kern advanced and took the door out of his hand, at the same time calling the dog by name,—immediately adding, however, that he thought he had seen the dog, but that he had no sooner called her than she disappeared. Hahn then inquired if he had really seen the dog. ‘Certainly I did,’ replied Kern, ‘she was close behind you—half within the door—and that was the reason I took it out of your hand, lest, not observing her, you should have shut it suddenly and crushed her. It was a white dog, and I took it for Flora.’ Search was immediately made for the dog, but she was found locked up in the stable and had not been out of it the whole day. It is certainly remarkable—even supposing Hahn to have been deceived with respect to the footsteps—that Kern should have seen a white dog behind him, before he had heard a word on the subject from his friend, especially as there was no such animal in the neighborhood; besides, it was not yet dark, and Kern was very sharp-sighted.

“Hahn remained in the castle for half a year after this, without experiencing anything extraordinary; and even persons who had possession of the mysterious chambers were not subjected to any annoyance.

“The riddle, however, in spite of all the perquisitions and investigations that were set on foot remained unsolved—no explanation of these strange events could be found; and even supposing any motive could exist, there was nobody in the neighborhood clever enough to have carried on such a system of persecution, which lasted so long, that the inhabitants of the chamber became almost indifferent to it.

“In conclusion, it is only necessary to add that Councillor Hahn wrote down this account for his own satisfaction, with the strictest regard to truth. His words are:—

“ ‘I have described these events exactly as I heard and saw them: from beginning to end I observed them with the most entire self-possession. I had no fear, nor the slightest tendency to it; yet the whole thing remains to me perfectly inexplicable. Written the 19th of November, 1808.

“ ‘Augustus Hahn, Councillor.’

“Doubtless many natural explanations of these phenomena will be suggested by those who consider themselves above the weakness of crediting stories of this description. Some say that Kern was a dexterous juggler, who contrived to throw dust in the eyes of his friend Hahn; while others affirm that both Hahn and Kern were intoxicated every evening! I did not fail to communicate these objections to Hahn, and here insert his answer:—

“ ‘After the events alluded to, I resided with Kern for a quarter of a year in another part of the castle of Slawensick (which has since been struck by lightning, and burnt), without finding a solution of the mystery, or experiencing a repetition of the annoyance, which discontinued from the moment we quitted those particular apartments. Those persons must suppose me very weak, who can imagine it possible that, with only one companion, I could have been the subject of his sport for two months without detecting him. As for Kern himself, he was, from the first, very anxious to leave the rooms; but as I was unwilling to resign the hope of discovering some natural cause for these phenomena, I persisted in remaining; and the thing that at last induced me to yield to his wishes was the vexation at the loss of his china-pipe, which had been flung against the wall and broken. Besides, jugglery requires a juggler, and I was frequently quite alone when these events occurred. It is equally absurd to accuse us of intoxication. The wine there was too dear for us to drink at all, and we confined ourselves wholly to weak beer. All the circumstances that happened are not set down in the narration; but my recollection of the whole is as vivid as if it had occurred yesterday. We had also many witnesses, some of whom have been mentioned. Councillor Klenk also visited me at a later period, with every desire to investigate the mystery; and when, one morning, he had mounted on a table, for the purpose of doing so, and was knocking at the ceiling with a stick, a powder-horn fell upon him, which he had just before left on the table in another room. At that time Kern had been for some time absent. I neglected no possible means that could have led to a discovery of the secret; and at least as many people have blamed me for my unwillingness to believe in a supernatural cause as the reverse. Fear is not my failing, as all who are acquainted with me know; and, to avoid the possibility of error, I frequently asked others what they saw when I was myself present; and their answers always coincided with what I saw myself. From 1809 to 1811 I lived in Jacobswald, very near the castle where the prince himself was residing. I am aware that some singular circumstances occurred while he was there; but as I did not witness them myself, I can not speak of them more particularly.

“ ‘I am still as unable as ever to account for those events, and I am content to submit to the hasty remarks of the world, knowing that I have only related the truth, and what many persons now alive witnessed as well as myself.

“ ‘Councillor Hahn.

“ ‘Ingelfinger, August 24, 1828.’ ”[^[7]]

The only key to this mystery ever discovered was, that after the destruction of the castle by lightning, when the ruins were removed, there was found the skeleton of a man without a coffin. His skull had been split, and a sword lay by his side!

Now, I am very well aware how absurd and impossible these events will appear to many people, and that they will have recourse to any explanation rather than admit them for facts. Yet, so late as the year 1835, a suit was brought before the sheriff of Edinburgh, in which Captain Molesworth was defendant, and the landlord of the house he inhabited (which was at Trinity, about a couple of miles from Edinburgh) was plaintiff, founded upon circumstances not so varied, certainly, but quite as inexplicable. The suit lasted two years, and I have been favored with the particulars of the case by Mr. M⁠—— L⁠——, the advocate employed by the plaintiff, who spent many hours in examining the numerous witnesses, several of whom were officers of the army, and gentlemen of undoubted honor and capacity for observation.

Captain Molesworth took the house of a Mr. Webster, who resided in the adjoining one, in May or June, 1835; and when he had been in it about two months, he began to complain of sundry extraordinary noises, which, finding it impossible to account for, he took it into his head (strangely enough) were made by Mr. Webster. The latter naturally represented that it was not probable he should desire to damage the reputation of his own house, and drive his tenant out of it, and retorted the accusation. Still, as these noises and knockings continued, Captain Molesworth not only lifted the boards in the room most infected, but actually made holes in the wall which divided his residence from Mr. Webster’s, for the purpose of detecting the delinquent—of course without success. Do what they would, the thing went on just the same: footsteps of invisible feet, knockings, and scratchings, and rustlings, first on one side, and then on the other, were heard daily and nightly. Sometimes this unseen agent seemed to be knocking to a certain tune, and if a question were addressed to it which could be answered numerically—as, “How many people are there in this room?” for example—it would answer by so many knocks. The beds, too, were occasionally heaved up, as if somebody were underneath, and where the knockings were, the wall trembled visibly, but, search as they would, no one could be found.

Captain Molesworth had had two daughters, one of whom, named Matilda, had lately died; the other, a girl between twelve and thirteen, called Jane, was sickly, and generally kept her bed; and, as it was observed that, wherever she was, these noises most frequently prevailed, Mr. Webster, who did not like the mala fama that was attaching itself to his house, declared that she made them, while the people in the neighborhood believed that it was the ghost of Matilda, warning her sister that she was soon to follow.

Sheriff’s officers, masons, justices of peace, and the officers of the regiment quartered at Leith, who were friends of Captain Molesworth, all came to his aid, in hopes of detecting or frightening away his tormentor, but in vain. Sometimes it was said to be a trick of somebody outside the house, and then they formed a cordon round it; and next, as the poor sick girl was suspected, they tied her up in a bag—but it was all to no purpose.

At length, ill and wearied out by the annoyances and the anxieties attending the affair, Captain Molesworth quitted the house, and Mr. Webster brought an action against him for the damages committed by lifting the boards, breaking the walls, and firing at the wainscoat, as well as for the injury done to his house by saying it was haunted, which prevented other tenants taking it.

The poor young lady died, hastened out of the world, it is said, by the severe measures used while she was under suspicion; and the persons that have since inhabited the house have experienced no repetition of the annoyance.

The manner in which these strange persecutions attach themselves to certain persons and places, seems somewhat analogous to another class of cases, which bear a great similarity to what was formerly called possession: and I must here observe that many German physicians maintain that, to this day, instances of genuine possession occur, and there are several works published in their language on the subject; and for this malady they consider magnetism the only remedy, all others being worse than useless. Indeed, they look upon possession itself as a demono-magnetic state, in which the patient is in rapport with mischievous or evil spirits; as, in the agatho (or good) magnetic state, which is the opposite pole, he is in rapport with good ones: and they particularly warn their readers against confounding this infliction with cases of epilepsy or mania. They assert that, although instances are comparatively rare, both sexes and all ages are equally subject to this misfortune; and that it is quite an error to suppose, either, that it has ceased since the resurrection of Christ, or that the expression used in the Scriptures, “possessed by a devil,” meant merely insanity or convulsions.

This disease, which is not contagious, was well known to the Greeks; and in later times Hoffmann has recorded several well-established instances. Among the distinguishing symptoms, they reckon the patient’s speaking in a voice that is not his own; frightful convulsions and motions of the body, which arise suddenly, without any previous indisposition; blasphemous and obscene talk; a knowledge of what is secret, and of the future; a vomiting of extraordinary things such as hair, stones, pins, needles, &c., &c. I need scarcely observe that this opinion is not universal in Germany; still, it obtains among many who have had considerable opportunities for observation.

Dr. Bardili had a case in the year 1830, which he considered decidedly to be one of possession. The patient was a peasant-woman, aged thirty-four, who never had any sickness whatever, and the whole of whose bodily functions continued perfectly regular while she exhibited the following strange phenomena: I must observe that she was happily married, and had three children—was not a fanatic, and bore an excellent character for regularity and industry—when, without any warning or perceptible cause, she was seized with the most extraordinary convulsions, while a strange voice proceeded from her, which assumed to be that of an unblessed spirit, who had formerly inhabited a human form. While these fits were on her, she entirely lost her own individuality, and became this person: on returning to herself, her understanding and character were as entire as before. The blasphemy and cursing, and barking and screeching, were dreadful. She was wounded and injured severely by the violent falls and blows she gave herself; and when she had an intermission, she could do nothing but weep over what they told her had passed, and the state in which she saw herself. She was, moreover, reduced to a skeleton; for when she wanted to eat, the spoon was turned round in her hand, and she often fasted for days together.

This affliction lasted for three years; all remedies failed, and the only alleviation she obtained was by the continued and earnest prayers of those about her, and her own: for although this demon did not like prayers, and violently opposed her kneeling down, even forcing her to outrageous fits of laughter, still they had a power over him. It is remarkable that pregnancy, confinement, and the nursing her child, made not the least difference in this woman’s condition: all went on regularly, but the demon kept his post. At length, being magnetized, the patient fell into a partially somnambulic state, in which another voice was heard to proceed from her, being that of her protecting spirit, which encouraged her to patience and hope, and promised that the evil guest would be obliged to vacate his quarters. She often now fell into a magnetic state without the aid of a magnetizer. At the end of three years she was entirely relieved and as well as ever.

In the case of Rosina Wildin, aged ten years, which occurred at Pleidelsheim, in 1834, the demon used to announce himself by crying out, “Here I am again!” Whereupon the weak, exhausted child, who had been lying like one dead, would rage and storm in a voice like a man’s, perform the most extraordinary movements and feats of violence and strength, till he would cry out, “Now I must be off again!” This spirit spoke generally in the plural number, for he said she had another besides himself, a dumb devil, who plagued her most. “He it is that twirls her round and round, distorts her features, turns her eyes, locks her teeth, &c. What he bids me, I must do!” This child was at length cured by magnetism.

Barbara Rieger, of Steinbach, aged ten, in 1834, was possessed by two spirits, who spoke in two distinctly different male voices and dialects; one said he had formerly been a mason, the other gave himself out for a deceased provisor; the latter of whom was much the worst of the two. When they spoke, the child closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, she knew nothing of what they had said. The mason confessed to have been a great sinner, but the provisor was proud and hardened, and would confess nothing. They often commanded food, and made her eat it, which, when she recovered her individuality, she felt nothing of, but was very hungry. The mason was very fond of brandy and drank a great deal; and if not brought when he ordered it, his raging and storming was dreadful. In her own individuality the child had the greatest aversion to this liquor. They treated her for worms, and other disorders, without the least effect; till at length, by magnetism, the mason was cast out. The provisor was more tenacious, but finally they got rid of him too, and the girl remained quite well.

In 1835, a respectable citizen, whose full name is not given, was brought to Dr. Kerner. He was aged thirty-seven, and till the last seven years had been unexceptionable in conduct and character. An unaccountable change had, however, come over him in his thirtieth year, which made his family very unhappy; and at length, one day, a strange voice suddenly spoke out of him, saying that he was the late magistrate S⁠——, and that he had been in him six years. When this spirit was driven out, by magnetism, the man fell to the earth, and was almost torn to pieces by the violence of the struggle; he then lay for a space as if dead, and arose quite well and free.

In another case, a young woman at Gruppenbach, was quite in her senses, and heard the voice of her demon (who was also a deceased person) speak out of her, without having any power to suppress it.

In short, instances of this description seem by no means rare; and if such a phenomenon as possession ever did exist, I do not see what right we have to assert that it exists no longer, since, in fact, we know nothing about it; only, that being determined to admit nothing so contrary to the ideas of the present day, we set out by deciding that the thing is impossible.

Since these cases occur in other countries, no doubt they must do so in this; and, indeed, I have met with one instance much more remarkable in its details than any of those abovementioned, which occurred at Bishopwearmouth, near Sunderland, in the year 1840; and as the particulars of this case have been published and attested by two physicians and two surgeons, not to mention the evidence of numerous other persons, I think we are bound to accept the facts, whatever interpretation we may choose to put upon them.

The patient, named Mary Jobson, was between twelve and thirteen years of age; her parents, respectable people in humble life, and herself an attendant on a Sunday-school. She became ill in November, 1839, and was soon afterward seized with terrific fits, which continued, at intervals, for eleven weeks. It was during this period that the family first observed a strange knocking, which they could not account for. It was sometimes in one place, and sometimes in another; and even about the bed, when the girl lay in a quiet sleep, with her hands folded outside the clothes. They next heard a strange voice, which told them circumstances they did not know, but which they afterward found to be correct. Then there was a noise like the clashing of arms, and such a rumbling that the tenant below thought the house was coming down; footsteps where nobody was to be seen, water falling on the floor, no one knew whence, locked doors opened, and above all, sounds of ineffably sweet music. The doctors and the father were suspicious, and every precaution was taken, but no solution of the mystery could be found. This spirit, however, was a good one, and it preached to them, and gave them a great deal of good advice. Many persons went to witness this strange phenomenon, and some were desired to go by the voice, when in their own homes. Thus Elizabeth Gauntlett, while attending to some domestic affairs at home, was startled by hearing a voice say, “Be thou faithful, and thou shalt see the works of thy God, and shalt hear with thine ears!” She cried out, “My God! what can this be!” and presently she saw a large white cloud near her. On the same evening the voice said to her, “Mary Jobson, one of your scholars is sick; go and see her, and it will be good for you.” This person did not know where the child lived, but having inquired the address, she went: and at the door she heard the same voice bid her go up. On entering the room she heard another voice, soft and beautiful, which bade her be faithful, and said, “I am the Virgin Mary.” This voice promised her a sign at home; and accordingly, that night, while reading the Bible, she heard it say, “Jemima, be not afraid; it is I: if you keep my commandments it shall be well with you.” When she repeated her visit the same things occurred, and she heard the most exquisite music.

The same sort of phenomena were witnessed by everybody who went—the immoral were rebuked, the good encouraged. Some were bidden instantly to depart, and were forced to go. The voices of several deceased persons of the family were also heard, and made revelations.

Once the voice said, “Look up, and you shall see the sun and moon on the ceiling!” and immediately there appeared a beautiful representation of these planets in lively colors, viz., green, yellow, and orange. Moreover, these figures were permanent; but the father, who was a long time skeptical, insisted on whitewashing them over; however, they still remained visible.

Among other things, the voice said, that though the child appeared to suffer, she did not; that she did not know where her body was; and that her own spirit had left it, and another had entered; and that her body was made a speaking trumpet. The voice told the family and visiters many things of their distant friends, which proved true.

The girl twice saw a divine form standing by her bedside who spoke to her, and Joseph Ragg, one of the persons who had been invited by the voice to go, saw a beautiful and heavenly figure come to his bedside about eleven o’clock at night, on the 17th of January. It was in male attire, surrounded by a radiance; it came a second time on the same night. On each occasion it opened his curtains and looked at him benignantly, remaining about a quarter of an hour. When it went away, the curtains fell back into their former position. One day, while in the sick child’s room, Margaret Watson saw a lamb, which passed through the door and entered a place where the father, John Jobson, was; but he did not see it.

One of the most remarkable features in this case is the beautiful music which was heard by all parties, as well as the family, including the unbelieving father; and indeed it seems to have been, in a great degree, this that converted him at last. This music was heard repeatedly during a space of sixteen weeks: sometimes it was like an organ, but more beautiful; at others there was singing of holy songs, in parts, and the words distinctly heard. The sudden appearance of water in the room too was most unaccountable; for they felt it, and it was really water. When the voice desired that water should be sprinkled, it immediately appeared as if sprinkled. At another time, a sign being promised to the skeptical father, water would suddenly appear on the floor; this happened “not once, but twenty times.”

During the whole course of this affair, the voices told them that there was a miracle to be wrought on this child; and accordingly on the 22d of June, when she was as ill as ever and they were only praying for her death, at five o’clock the voice ordered that her clothes should be laid out, and that everybody should leave the room except the infant, which was two years and a half old. They obeyed; and having been outside the door a quarter of an hour, the voice cried, “Come in!” and when they entered, they saw the girl completely dressed and quite well, sitting in a chair with the infant on her knee, and she had not had an hour’s illness from that time till the report was published, which was on the 30th of January, 1841.

Now, it is very easy to laugh at all this, and assert that these things never happened, because they are absurd and impossible; but while honest, well-meaning, and intelligent people, who were on the spot, assert that they did, I confess I find myself constrained to believe them, however much I find in the case which is discrepant with my notions. It was not an affair of a day or an hour—there was ample time for observation—for the phenomena continued from the 9th of February to the 22d of June; and the determined unbelief of the father regarding the possibility of spiritual appearances, insomuch that he ultimately expressed great regret for the harshness he had used, is a tolerable security against imposition. Moreover, they pertinaciously refused to receive any money or assistance whatever, and were more likely to suffer in public opinion than otherwise by the avowal of these circumstances.

Dr. Clanny, who publishes the report with the attestations of the witnesses, is a physician of many years’ experience, and is also, I believe, the inventor of the improved Davy lamp; and he declares his entire conviction of the facts, assuring his readers that “many persons holding high rank in the established church, ministers of other denominations, as well as many lay-members of society, highly respected for learning and piety, are equally satisfied.” When he first saw the child lying on her back, apparently insensible, her eyes suffused with florid blood, he felt assured that she had a disease of the brain; and he was not in the least disposed to believe in the mysterious part of the affair, till subsequent investigation compelled him to do so: and that his belief is of a very decided character we may feel assured, when he is content to submit to all the obloquy he must incur by avowing it.

He adds that, since the girl has been quite well, both her family and that of Joseph Ragg have frequently heard the same heavenly music as they did during her illness; and Mr. Torbock, a surgeon, who expresses himself satisfied of the truth of the above particulars, also mentions another case, in which he, as well as a dying person he was attending, heard divine music just before the dissolution.

Of this last phenomenon—namely, sounds as of heavenly music being heard when a death was occurring—I have met with numerous instances.

From the investigation of the above case, Dr. Clanny has arrived at the conviction that the spiritual world do occasionally identify themselves with our affairs; and Dr. Drury asserts that, besides this instance, he has met with another circumstance which has left him firmly convinced that we live in a world of spirits, and that he has been in the presence of an unearthly being, who had “passed that bourne from which,” it is said, “no traveller returns.”[^[8]]

But the most extraordinary case I have yet met with is the following; because it is one which can not, by any possibility, be attributed to disease or illusion. It is furnished to me from the most undoubted authority, and I give it as I received it, with the omission of the names. I have indeed, in this instance, thought it right to change the initial, and substitute G. for the right one—the particulars being of a nature which demand the greatest delicacy, as regards the parties concerned:—

“Mrs. S. C. Hall, in early life, was intimately acquainted with a family, one of whom, Richard G⁠——, a young officer in the army, was subject to a harassing visitation of a kind that is usually regarded as supernatural. Mrs. H. once proposed to pay a visit to her particular friend, Catherine G⁠——, but was told that it would not be convenient exactly at that time, as Richard was on the point of coming home. She thought the inconvenience consisted in the want of a bed-room, and spoke of sleeping with Miss G⁠——, but found that the objection really lay in the fact of Richard being ‘haunted,’ which rendered it impossible for anybody else to be comfortable in the same house with him. A few weeks after Richard’s return, Mrs. Hall heard of Mrs. G⁠——’s being extremely ill; and found, on going to call, that it was owing to nothing but the distress the old lady suffered in consequence of the strange circumstance connected with her son. It appeared that Richard, wherever he was—at home, in camp, in lodgings, abroad, or in his own country—was liable to be visited in his bed-room at night by certain extraordinary noises. Any light he kept in the room was sure to be put out. Something went beating about the walls and his bed, making a great noise, and often shifting close to his face, but never becoming visible. If a cage-bird was in his room, it was certain to be found dead in the morning. If he kept a dog in the apartment, it would make away from him as soon as released, and never come near him again. His brother, even his mother, had slept in the room, but the visitation took place as usual. According to Miss G⁠——’s report, she and other members of the family would listen at the bed-room door, after Richard had gone to sleep, and would hear the noises commence; and they would then hear him sit up and express his vexation by a few military execrations. The young man, at length, was obliged by this pest to quit the army and go upon half-pay. Under its influence he became a sort of Cain; for, wherever he lived, the annoyance was so great that he was quickly obliged to remove. Mrs. Hall heard of his having ultimately gone to settle in Ireland, where, however, according to a brother whom she met about four years ago, the visitation which afflicted him in his early years was in no degree abated.”

This can not be called a case of possession, but seems to be one of a rapport, which attaches this invisible tormentor to his victim.

---

[6]

There was also a remarkable case of this sort at Mr. Chaves, in Devonshire, in the year 1810, where affidavits were made before the magistrates attesting the facts, and large rewards offered for discovery, but in vain. The phenomena continued several months, and the spiritual agent was frequently seen in the form of some strange animal.

[7]	Translated from the original German.—C. C.

[8]	Alluding, I conclude, to the affair at Willington.

---