"After leaving the studio, on our way to the High Street, Kensington, we had to pass along one side of Edwardes' Square. There the houses have little gardens with iron railings and the pathway is very narrow. We were walking one after the other, my brother in front, my sister next, and I last, when, suddenly, I saw Canon Jervis as clearly and plainly as I have ever in my life seen anyone before or since. He passed me on the side next the railings. I cannot in any way explain why I did, or said, nothing at the time, saving that I was too overcome with amazement. We went on and got into an omnibus, which took us to the street where we live. As we walked along the latter, I again saw the Canon coming down a side street and my sister immediately exclaimed: 'There is Canon Jervis! looking just as if he were alive!' My brother, who was a little way in front of us, did not speak—he had seen nothing.
"Looking back on the incident I cannot explain why we neither attempted to look after or follow him. But I think most people at the time of seeing an apparition seem to be in a sense paralysed with astonishment and quite lose their presence of mind."
As the manifestation occurred so soon after the Canon's death, I am inclined to think that in this instance it was a bona fide phantasm of the Dead.
A case of a haunting with a purpose was related to me recently by a Mrs. Craven. Whilst visiting at a country house, Mrs. Craven often used to retire to the library for a few minutes' quiet reading, when she invariably found a priest sitting there, in a peculiarly pensive attitude. Wondering who he was, as she never saw him in any other part of the house, but not liking to disturb him, Mrs. Craven used to sit and steal furtive glances at him from over her book, until she felt she could no longer stand being in his presence, when she made her escape as silently as possible from the room. This went on for some days, until determining one morning to brave it out, she remained in her seat till the priest somewhat electrified her by suddenly pointing in a very agitated manner to the book shelves. Thinking him queerer than ever, but attributing his inertness to some possible physical affliction, Mrs. Craven went to the bookcase and after some trouble discovered the book he wanted. But on bringing it to him, he motioned her to turn over the leaves, and to her astonishment the book seemed to open at the place he indicated, where she perceived a loose sheet of paper covered with writing. Obeying his tacit injunctions she threw the document into the fire, whereupon the priest at once vanished.
Much startled, Mrs. Craven related what had occurred to the hostess, who coolly informed her that the library was well known to be haunted by just such an apparition as she had described, which, however, only appeared periodically. So far, Mrs. Craven does not think it has been seen again.
The identity of the priest being unknown, one cannot say for certain whether this phenomenon was a phantasm of the Dead or an Impersonating Elemental, though, from the lives of self-indulgence led by so many priests in the past, I am inclined to believe it was a genuine phantasm of the Dead. I think the incident of the document is quite sufficient in itself to prove the manifestations were objective.
There is a well authenticated story current in Clifton (Bristol) of an apparition appearing (in the home of a well-known professional man) comparatively recently, with a purpose.
Miss Debrett, an artist belonging to one of the Cornish Art Colonies, had a curious experience at Moret, which experience I will tell in her own words:—
"From Paris to Moret-sur-Loing is not a very long run, two hours at the most. My friend, an artist, and myself went there in the month of July. We 'put up' at the Hotel de la Chalette. We had rooms adjoining one another, my friend using hers as a studio in the daytime. My room was very close, the roof sloped horribly and I experienced a queer shrinking sensation the moment I entered it. However, overcoming such feelings I resolved to sleep there and say nothing of my misgivings to my friend. At two o'clock in the morning of my first night there, I was awakened by little tappings and a feeling of terror. I tried in vain to sleep but could not, the presence of some ghost-like creature was strongly about me. I lit my candle and placed it on the stand beside my bed, trying to assure myself that this at least would protect me from apparitions, but the feeling of the invisible presence remained. I was immeasurably relieved when morning came, though I did not mention a word of what had happened to my friend.
"Night after night the sensations were repeated with ever increasing intensity, until I could instinctively feel the presence of a woman who appeared to be enduring the most severe mental and physical pain. I could feel her close to me, bending backwards and forwards and writhing to and fro, and a deadly fear seized me lest she would clutch hold of me in her throes of agony. Once I saw her shadow on the wall. Apart from the unmistakeable likeness it bore to a woman, I am sure it was her shadow, as I looked carefully about the room, removing sundry articles of furniture to assure myself the phenomenon was not due to them. It was not, for whatever I did in no way disturbed it—it still remained plainly and ominously outlined on the wall.