There are not a few cases, however, where the ghostly manifestations have been found to be due to human agency. The following instance was brought to my notice by a well-known firm of estate agents at Tunbridge Wells:—
"There is an old Manor House in this district which is locally known as the 'Haunted House.' The original mansion was, according to Hasted, one of the homes of the Colepepers. In the reign of Charles II. the mansion was rebuilt in the style of the period. It has, however, outlived its purpose, is out of repair and was for many years let in tenements to labourers. It is now untenanted. Some few months ago the lurid tales of ghostly visitors induced a local spiritualist, encouraged by some mischievous friends, to hold a séance in the house at midnight, and to perambulate the rambling building from time to time during the night. The spirits lived up to their reputation and gave all kinds of manifestations which included streams of water from invisible buckets that met the investigator as he groped up the staircase and along the passages. In the end the whole thing was found to be a hoax and to have been organised by the spiritualist's friends. He is not communicative on the subject. The old house still stands empty and deserves a better fate."
The classic case of haunting in England is, perhaps, that of Willingdon Mill. Other spectre-ridden edifices in the kingdom there may well be, but their stories, however grim and ghastly, are apt to relapse into insignificance beside those narrated of this famous Tyneside building.
Willingdon Mill, which is situated in Northumberland nearly half-way between Newcastle and North Shields, was built about the year 1800. When, thirty-four years later, certain unaccountable noises and other phenomena began to attract attention the occupants consisted of a worthy Quaker, Joseph Proctor by name, his wife, servants and family. Joseph Proctor used to keep a diary wherein he chronicled the strange happenings in his house. The greater portion of this was published in The Journal of the Society for Psychical Research, vol. v., but full accounts of the affair have appeared in many publications, among which may be mentioned Howitt's "Visits to Remarkable Places," Crowe's "Night Side of Nature," "The Local Historian's Table Book," and Stead's "Real Ghost Stories."
It was a servant girl that first called attention to the mysterious noises. She positively affirmed that she had heard "a dull heavy tread on the boarded floor of the room unoccupied above, commonly pacing backwards and forwards and, on coming over to the window, giving the floor such a shake as to cause the windows of the nursery to rattle violently in their frames." This disturbance usually lasted about ten minutes at a time. At first the girl's tale was discredited, but before many days had elapsed every member of the family had heard precisely what the girl described. The room was vigorously searched but no clue to the phantom footsteps was forthcoming. Even the expedient of covering the floor with flour was without result; the "dull, heavy tread" left no traces upon the whitened boards.
It was not long before other unaccountable noises were heard all over the house and ghostly figures were seen by several persons. To illustrate the kind of occurrence that was constantly going on in the house, and which, indeed, became so frequent that they were thought very little of, I quote the following extracts from Joseph Proctor's diary:—
"7 mo., 14th, 1841:—J. and E. P. heard the spirit in their own room, and in the room overhead, making a noise as of something heavy being hoisted or rolled, or like a barrel set down on its end; also noises in the Camproom of various and unaccountable character.
"8 mo., 3rd.—Since the last night there have been few nights during which some branch of the family has not heard our visitor. One night, J. P. was awoke and heard something hastily walk, with a step like that of a child of 8 or 10 years, from the foot of the bed towards the side of the room, and come back seemingly towards the door, in a run; then it gave two stamps with one foot; there was a loud rustling as if of a frock or night-dress. I need scarcely say the door was locked, and I am quite certain there was no other human being in the room save E. P., who was asleep. The two stamps aroused E. P. out of her sleep. About this time Joseph, on two or three occasions, said he had heard voices from underneath his bed and from other parts of the room, and described seeing on one occasion a boy in a drab hat much like his own, the boy much like himself too, walking backwards and forwards between the windows and the wardrobe. He was afraid, but did not speak.
"Noises as of a band-box falling close at hand, as of someone running upstairs when no one was there, and like the raking of a coal rake, were heard about this time by different members of the family."
"8 mo., 6th.—On the night of the third, just after the previous memorandum was written, about 10.30 P.M., the servants having all retired to bed, J. and E. P. heard a noise like a clothes horse being thrown down in the kitchen. Soon the noises became louder and appeared as though some persons had burst into the house on the ground floor and were clashing the doors and throwing things down. Eventually J. P. got one of the servants to go downstairs with him, when all was found right, no one there, and apparently nothing moved. The noises now began on the third storey, and the servants were so much alarmed that it was difficult to get them to go to bed at all that night.
"8 mo., 6th to 12th.—My brother-in-law, George Carr, was with us. He heard steppings and loud rumblings in the middle of the night, and other noises."
A curious feature in this case was the number of apparitions seen. Thus we have clear testimony of the presence of a lady in a lavender silk dress, of an old bald-headed man in a flowing robe like a surplice, of a lady in grey, and of a horrid eyeless spectre who glared fixedly at the world through empty eyeholes. Added to these there were animals of all sorts and descriptions, cats, monkeys, rabbits and sheep.
"On one occasion, during the period that Thomas was courting Mary, he was standing at the window outside (no followers being allowed inside, lest fabulous reports were sent abroad). He had given the usual signal. The night was clear, and the stars beamed forth their light from a cloudless sky. Suddenly something appeared which arrested my father's attention. Looking towards the mill, which was divided from the house by an open space, he beheld what he supposed was a whitish cat. It came walking along in close proximity to his feet. Thinking Miss Puss very cheeky he gave her a kick; but his foot felt nothing and the cat quietly continued its march, followed by my father, until it suddenly disappeared from his gaze. Still the ghost was not thought of by him. Returning to the window and looking in the same direction, he again beheld it suddenly come into existence. This time it came hopping like a rabbit, coming quite as close to his feet as before. He determined to have a good rap at it, and took deliberate aim; but, as before, his foot went through it and felt nothing. Again he followed it, and it disappeared at the same spot as its predecessor. The third time he went to the window, and in a few moments it made its third appearance, not like unto a cat or a rabbit, but fully as large as a sheep, and quite luminous. On it came and my father was fixed to the spot. All muscular power seemed for the moment paralysed. It moved on, disappearing at the same spot as the preceding apparitions. My father declared that if it was possible for 'hair to stand on end' his did just then. Thinking that for once he had seen sufficient, he went home, keeping the knowledge of this scene to himself."
It is not to be wondered at if the queer doings at Willingdon Mill began to be rumoured abroad. They reached the ears of a certain Dr Edward Drury of Sunderland, who was, not unnaturally, rather sceptical. He asked and obtained permission to sit up alone in the house one night accompanied only by his faithful dog and with a pair of pistols in his pocket. His opportunity came in July, 1840, when all the family, with the exception of Joseph Proctor himself, was away from the mill. The night was fruitful with horror, and the following letter addressed to the miller nearly a week after the event tells its own tale:—