JOURNAL KEPT DURING A
VISIT TO B—— HOUSE
February 3rd, Wednesday.—Constance Moore and I arrived from Edinburgh, with Mac., the maid, a little after 10 p.m., having sent on beforehand the following servants:—Robinson and Mrs. Robinson, butler and cook; Carter and Hannah, two housemaids.
I had engaged them on behalf of Colonel Taylor in Edinburgh last evening. They had all good characters, and were well recommended. We told them nothing, of course, of the reputation of the house, and were careful to choose persons of mature age, and not excitable girls.
I had seen no plans nor photographs of the house, and merely desired that any rooms should be prepared for us that were near together—i.e. bedroom, dressing-room, and maid's room. Mr. C—— [who met us in Edinburgh, and is a lawyer, mentioned hereafter], who had seen plans, asked what orders we had given, and remarked that, as far as he knew, we should secure one quiet night, as the "haunted" part contained, apparently, no dressing-rooms.
The house looked very gloomy. It was not cold out of doors, though thick snow lay on the ground. Inside it felt like a vault, having been empty for months. None of the stores ordered had arrived. We had no linen, knives, plate, wine, food, and very little fuel or oil. Candles and bread and milk and a tin of meat had been got for us in the village. We ate and went to bed. The room was so cold that we had to cover our faces, and we had no bed-linen. We had been very busy all day in Edinburgh, and soon fell asleep.
February 4th, Thursday.—I awoke suddenly, just before 3 a.m. Miss Moore, who had been lying awake over two hours, said, "I want you to stay awake and listen." Almost immediately I was startled by a loud clanging sound, which seemed to resound through the house. The mental image it brought to my mind was as of a long metal bar, such as I have seen near iron-foundries, being struck at intervals with a wooden mallet. The noise was distinctly as of metal struck with wood; it seemed to come diagonally across the house. It sounded so loud, though distant, that the idea that any inmate of the house should not hear it seems ludicrous. It was repeated with varying degrees of intensity at frequent intervals during the next two hours, sometimes in single blows, sometimes double, sometimes treble, latterly continuous. We did not get up, though not alarmed. We had been very seriously cautioned as to the possibilities of practical joking; and as we were alone on that floor in a large house, of which we did not even know the geography, we thought it wiser to await developments. We knew the servants' staircase was distant, though not exactly where.
About 4.30 we heard voices, apparently in the maid's room, undoubtedly on the same floor. We had for some time heard the housemaids overhead coughing, occasionally speaking, and we thought they had got up and had come down to her room.
After five o'clock the noises seemed to have ceased, and Miss Moore fell asleep. About 5.30 I heard them again, apparently more distant. I continued awake, but heard no more.
About 8 a.m. the maid brought us some tea. She said she had slept very badly, had worried over our apparent restlessness, as she had heard voices and footsteps and the sound of things dragged about, but that the maids had not been downstairs. We had never risen, and had spoken seldom, and in low tones, and an empty room (the dressing-room) intervened between Mac.'s room and ours.
In order, as we supposed, to follow up the noises we, later, in the day moved our rooms to the other side of the house, especially choosing those from which the sounds seemed to proceed—Nos. 6 and 7—leaving Mac., the maid, in No. 3.