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"...we should pass over all biographies of 'the good and the great,' while we search carefully the slight records of wretches who died in prison, in Bedlam, or upon the gallows."
~Edgar Allan Poe
Showing posts with label cat ghosts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cat ghosts. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 19, 2024

Newspaper Clipping of the Day

Via Newspapers.com



Any cat can make your life difficult.  But when the cat in question died some three centuries earlier, you know you’re dealing with one special kitty.  The “Vincennes Sun-Commercial,” November 17, 1975:

SUDBURY, England (AP) — Residents of this East Anglia town hope they’ve seen the end of a series of local misfortunes now that the mayor and the rector have reburied a 300-year-old cat.

The trouble began four years ago when Arthur Kemp tore down a 16th Century building to build a hotel and found a mummified cat buried beneath. It was the custom in medieval times to bury a live cat in a building under construction to ward off witches and prevent fires. 

Kemp decided to place this historical curiosity in his shop. 

Shortly thereafter the shop caught fire for no apparent reason. 

Kemp then put the cat in a workshop. The workshop caught fire. 

Then serious defects suddenly appeared in the new hotel Kemp built, although it had appeared structurally sound. The defects showed up just above the spot where the cat was found. 

Kemp and the city fathers got the message. On Friday, Mayor Tony Moore placed the feline remains in a glass-topped casket and with a special service by Canon Peter Schneider buried it in the floor of the hotel. 

“My prayers were for the building” Rev. Schneider stressed. "I could not become involved in a religious ceremony for a cat”.

Hopefully, both Kemp and the cat were subsequently able to coexist in peace.  Although I can't say I like Rev. Schneider's attitude.

Wednesday, September 6, 2023

Newspaper Clipping of the Day

Via Newspapers.com



On January 29, 1900, the “San Francisco Examiner” published a perfect example of the sort of ghosts you’ll get when there’s a cat around:

SAN RAFAEL, January 28. After driving one prisoner to suicide and frightening confessions out of a dozen others, the ghost of the Marin County Jail has at last been discovered.

The spook was nothing more than a sedate old pussy cat prowling through the bastille late at night, looking for rats and mice. She bears no resemblance whatever to the spirit of a departed Chinese, and is still following her legitimate occupation at the jail. 

Some years ago a Chinese hanged himself in the cell where so many superstitious prisoners have since claimed to have seen his ghost. The shadowy figure, wearing chains that clinked, glided along the wall, with his queue sticking up in the air, so the terrified hobos said, and they begged to be removed from the haunted cell before they died of fear. In a corner near the haunted cell is a water tank, upon which the cat jumps in her rat-hunting rounds.

While moving around on the tank her body casts a shadow which a fevered mind might liken unto the shape of a hanged Chinese. Her swaying tail supplies the queue. When prowling behind the tank the cat bumps into some chains banging there, and thus produces the blood-chilling clank. The cat belonged to the Mongolian who killed himself, and while living in the cell with him she learned the run of the jail. She is now a free feline enjoying a good home with A. Kappenmann and using the jail only for a hunting ground whenever she can break in.

A tramp serving a term for petty larceny killed himself in the haunted jail because of the moving shadows and the rattling chains. Another prisoner pleaded guilty when he might have later gone free, and was sent to San Quentin to escape the cat. He said he would lose his mind if the ghost bothered him much longer.

Only a few nights ago Anton Jason, a sixteen-year-old boy, was found cowering in the haunted cell and howling for help.  Jason said the ghost was scaring him to death and begged the jailer to save him. Since then a watch has been kept until the ghost was caught with a dead mouse in her teeth. The prisoners are happy now and the jail officials no longer tumble out in the night to prop a tottering reason on its throne. 

This is not the first time the cat has distinguished herself. It is only a short time ago that she saved Miss Bertha Kappenmann from being burned to death by awakening her from her sleep after the young woman’s clothes caught fire from the stove by which she was seated.

Three years earlier, there was another ghost outbreak at the jail.  No word on whether or not cats were involved. 

Monday, March 6, 2023

The Horror Near Pilot Knob: A Notably Sinister Haunting

"The Haunted House," Gustave Dore



Accounts of “haunted houses” are, of course, a dime a dozen.  However, the following story, which was originally published in the January 1897 issue of the journal “Borderland,” has enough unusual--and unusually chilling--touches to make it worth sharing.

Besides, I can never resist an evil ghost cat.

A CORRESPONDENT in California sends me the following very weird story of a haunted house in Kansas. My correspondent has copied out the MS. of a friend, who had the somewhat doubtful privilege of living in the house for a year and a-half. There are elements in the narrative which raise it far above the ordinary average of stories of haunted houses. That fearsome white cat with the woman's eyes, which so mysteriously appeared and disappeared; the unwanted bed fellows who sometimes slept on the top of the bed-clothes, and who sometimes pulled them off in order to make themselves comfortable on the floor, to say nothing of the nameless brute which seemed impervious to rifle bullet, constitute congeries of the gruesome and the grim which are not often combined in one story.

THE HAUNTED HOUSE NEAR PILOT KNOB.

The remains of a two-storey house and a two-storey barn was all that was left of a once beautiful place. It was in a very dilapidated condition; over the door and window-spaces were nailed great thick boards. In the room I afterwards used for a dining-room, and also in the servants' quarters, I noticed a portion of the floor had been taken up and laid at one side of the rooms.

THE WHITE CAT WITH A WOMAN'S EYES.

Looking in through the front hall-door, I noticed a big bundle of bedding and the largest cat I ever saw, sitting on the roll. The cat was pure white, with big brown or black eyes; they looked to me like the eyes of a human. I called F. (my husband) to see the cat and bundle, as I thought some one must be inside; we called the cat, but it did not move, only looked steadily at us. F. said the house must be used by hunters, but we could not account for the great cat. We looked at the barn and a bit around the yard, but never went out of sight of the house. Before I stepped into the buggy, I thought I would take another look at that big white cat with the human eyes; when I looked in, cat, bundle, and all had disappeared. F. did not know what to say about it. However, we took the place; carpenters, painters, &c., set to work, and when we took possession of our country place all was very nice, cosy, and comfortable. We had fine large cellars, with all conveniences that a cellar could have; a huge cistern under the kitchen, and everything convenient. Besides the gardeners and other men-servants, I had a very large, strong English maid.

THE STRANGE NOISE IN THE ATTIC.

I thought I would be so content and happy there, and so I would have been had not it happened as follows:We heard so many strange noises that we could not account for; the attic I used as a store-room; often I would hear what seemed to be a number of people walking about in an excited way up there. One day when I was all alone but for my two babies, I heard what seemed to be heavy iron balls rolling from one end of that attic to the other, until it shook the whole house. When I was young, and neither nervous nor imaginative, I was not cowardly--not afraid of anything; I thought only, "Why, what can that be? we have no iron balls up there!" I locked the children into a room, and went up to see what was wrong. One of the boxes that had been stored away, tightly nailed up, was open and all its contents scattered around, and that same big white cat, or one just like it, with human eyes, sat in the box with its paws on the edge, looking at me just as it did the first morning I went to the house. I called it, “Pussy, pussy!" it did not move, but looked steadily in my eyes, I thought, "That is not a cat, at least, it is not a natural cat; and whatever it is it could kill me and then kill the children!" and I went down stairs and locked the doors. When F. and the servants came home I told him. To reassure me he said it must belong to one of the neighbours; the nearest lived about a mile away. He went upstairs and found the windows fastened just as we had left them; the things were all in the box and it was nailed up fast. No iron balls there, nor anything else that could make that trundling noise, although it had continued all that day.

THE SPECTRE WITH THE ICY HAND.

One night, not long after, or rather it was just before dawn, we were awakened by most unearthly screams. F. could not decide what it was, but I said, “Oh! it is Ellen!" (the English maid). He ran to her room, with his pistol, and I with the nightlamp. We thought someone was murdering her. She was standing about the centre of the room, looking like a ghost; her eyes looked as if they would burst from her head. F. asked her what was the matter; she said nothing but kept on screaming; I pushed her down into a chair; I told her to go to bed, that she had had a nightmare. She said nothing, but looked round with a wild stare, shaking all the while till her teeth chattered; she was holding her left wrist with her right hand; I tried to pull her hand loose, but could not move it. I at last got her to my room as best we could, and had her lie on the lounge the rest of the night. The next morning she told us that she would leave at once; that she would not stay in that house another night for any consideration. She said, the night before she had been lying awake for some time, looking out of the window at the flowers in my garden--it was bright moonlight--and thinking she had never seen such a lovely place, nor such flowers. She heard some sound in the room but did not speak, for she thought I had come there for her, and she would not startle me by suddenly showing she was awake. Then she felt someone touch the head of the bed and turned to see, and looked straight into the face of a woman who was bending over her. This woman took hold of her left wrist with a cold icy hand; then she "was sure it was a dead woman," and she did not know anything more until we were talking to her, but she could not speak to answer us. We could not prevail on her to stay with us, even until I could get another maid, although she had been devoted to me before that. She begged me to move into the city and leave that house, or I would regret it deeply.

THE SPECTRE APPEARS AGAIN.

The day after she left me, F. brought me a maid--an Irish girl--who had lived with me once before, for three years. Her name was Maggy. We, of course, told her nothing about Ellen's experience. She slept in the same room, and on the same bed that Ellen had used. F. and I had not mentioned what had happened, not even to any of my own family.

AN INVULNERABLE MONSTER.

One night soon after, F. spoke to me, asking if I could tell what noise it was we heard. I thought it sounded like someone filing iron; he thought the same thing. He believed that someone was trying to file the stable-door bars, to get to the horses; we had some very fine horses; the gardener and the other men were all married, and they slept at home, down in the hollow where their houses were. F. said he would go and see what it was; I insisted that he should not expose himself (this was soon after the close of the Civil War, when dubious characters were prowling about, who often drew out the men from a household by some noise, and shot them on sight,) but he should stand in the porch in the shadow, and I would go, as surely no man would be so mean as to shoot or harm a defenseless woman. He finally agreed to stay there and cover me with a rifle, while I should go, for if he went and anything happened to him, I would be left the worse off. I took a pistol and went; when I was about midway between the house and barn, an animal of an immense size came around the lower part of the barn and started towards me. F. said, "A bear! run to the house, quick!" but I could not move. I stood perfectly still and could only gasp, "What is that?" It came about half-way between me and the barn; F. cried, "Shoot it! shoot it!" as he ran to me. We both fired and hit it every time; I could hear the shot strike it each time; we shot six or seven times; when the balls hit it, it sounded like a dried buffalo hide. It walked leisurely along, did not increase its gait in the least, but went down into the bushes and out of sight. F. and I agreed that it could not have been any living thing, and stand all the shots we gave it. The next morning we looked to see the tracks its feet made, but did not find the slightest impression, and it always remained an unsolved mystery to us. It was not in the least like any animal we either of us ever saw, either in collections of wild beasts or in pictures.

THE SPECTRE OF THE ICY HAND RETURNS.

Maggy had been with us some time when, about the same time in the A.M. that Ellen had screamed we were aroused by screams from Maggy. F. snatched the pistol and I the lamp. When we reached her room she was standing in almost exactly the exact spot in the centre of the floor where Ellen had stood, her face white, her eyes wide open, shaking violently, her left wrist clasped in her right hand. She acted precisely the same in every respect as Ellen had done. We took her to my room and kept her on the couch. She did not speak that night. After she had done her work the next morning, she told us in almost the same words that the other girl had used, that she was awake and looking out of window, thinking about the beauty of the garden and the brightness of the moonlight, when she heard someone in the room; she thought it was I come after her, as the bells were not good, and turned to see, and looked into the same dead woman's face that was bending over her from the head of the bed; also how she took hold of her left hand with "a dead cold hand," and then she knew nothing more until we had her with us. She told us we would have to get another maid, as she would not stay in that house another night. She told me, the same as Ellen had done, "You would better move away from here, or you will be sorry some time."

THE GOBLIN BIRD.

Soon after this papa went out to Pike's Peak on business, to be gone some time. I invited mother to bring Mollie and Willie (my brother and sister) and come and stay with me, so neither of us would feel lonely, as father was gone also. She accepted and came. Mother insisted that she would sleep upstairs, as it would be cooler than on the ground floor. She chose a room directly over my room, and everything went nicely for some time. One morning, about the same time (hour) when the other things had happened, mother was awake with her face towards the window, when an enormous bird alighted in the window and filled it completely. She thought it was an eagle, but a very large one. Willie (the little boy brother) slept in her room near the window, and she was afraid it would jump on his bed and frighten him, but she feared it might be worse if she did anything to startle or anger it; so she lay still and watched it until daylight. All the time it sat looking into the room; it had a queerly shaped head and large brown or black eyes.

THE GHOST AND THE BED-COVERS.

The next morning, again about the same hour, she heard steps in the room; at first she thought one of the dogs had been shut into the house unnoticed, and had strayed into her room; she called the names of the dogs, and when none came to her, she knew it was not our well-trained dogs. She turned in bed and the bedclothes pulled tight, and she could not move them. All at once the covers dropped to the floor: she put down her hand to get them, and touched a person; she was not alarmed, thinking it was Willie. She let him lie, as it was warm, but as soon as it was light enough to see she saw Willie in his bed, and on her bed-covers on the floor, was the impression of a body large enough for an adult. She did not disturb them until F. and I had seen them. She said she was not frightened, but after that she occupied a room on the ground floor until papa came back home, and they went back to their city residence, and I was again left alone, but for my two small children and the servants. F.'s business often kept him in town until late, when he would always get Hillis (my younger brother) to come out and stay with me. We had now fitted up for a guest-room the chamber the maids had occupied, and would put gentlemen in it.

SEEN BY A FOURTH WITNESS.

Hillis slept in this room; one morning about the time that the girls had frightened us so badly, we again heard such frightful screams. We hurried to Hillis; we found him in the centre of the room, and exhibiting precisely the same peculiar appearance and actions that the others had done. We took him to another room, and the next day he told us exactly the same story they had. I asked him why he did not speak to the woman and ask her what she wanted. “Speak!” he said; he would like to see the person who would speak to the sight he saw then, staring straight down into his eyes. He urged us to move from the house.

POLTERGEISTS FIRING PISTOL SHOTS.

Often during the day I would call the gardeners and ask them what was the hollow pounding we heard; they always said they had supposed it was someone pounding in the house. It sounded like pounding on a big empty box. One night whilst Hillis and I sat together, a pistol shot sounded close to the glass-door of the room; we saw the flash, too; both of us ran to the door, and thoroughly searched the house and the dooryard, but not a trace of anyone could we find. Yet hardly had we seated ourselves again, when we heard the report again, and saw the flash, both much plainer and clearer than before. We ran out again, but could find nothing.

A WARM BODY IN THE CELLAR.

One day I went down into the cellar, having taken a sudden notion for some apples stored there; as I was raking away the straw from about them, I put my hand on what felt to me like the body of a woman. I had gone down without a light, knowing the cellar perfectly. Of course I flew up the stairs fast, thinking some tramp woman had found a way into the cellar; as I went, I heard the straw being tossed about wildly, and even after I reached the kitchen, the girls and I all thought we could even hear the straw tossed up against the floor of the kitchen, or the ceiling of the cellar. When the men went down to investigate, they found no sign of disorder, except on top of the straw the impression of somebody about the size of a woman's person; also the straw was very warm, as if from animal heat. This puzzled them greatly, as there was no way for a woman to get into the cellar without being detected.

THE SPECTRE SEEN BY TWO MORE WITNESSES.

One day Mollie (my sister) brought a friend out to make me a visit. They two slept in a room next to mine. Soon after they retired, the friend was heard to say, "Who is that?" and then Mollie cried out in an alarmed way, "S., is that you?" When I answered that I had not been in their room, they both rushed into my room, and said they were lonesome," and would not stay in the other chamber; next morning, they said that, while they were still awake, but not thinking of feeling fear, something moving in the room caused them to open their eyes, and they both saw a woman leaning over the foot (the italics are mine; the notes go on to say that the position of the bed was such that "the woman" could not take up her usual situation at the head) of their bed, looking down in their faces. This made the fourth time this same woman had been seen by members of my family. The door of the room wherein the woman had been seen by three different persons opened into the hall, where I had seen the big white cat, the first day I visited the house; so, too, at the door of the room where I put M. and her friend to sleep. I forgot to say that in every case where the woman was seen, she wore a white cap with a frill around the front. About this time, F.'s business called him to another part of the State, and he arranged for Hillis and Draper (another brother) to stay with me until his return.

THE CLIMAX OF HORROR.

One day I took the children and went to mother's to pass the day, leaving D. at home to oversee things, and take care of the house. We had no maid or cook at this time; it had become very difficult for me to get woman servants. I returned late in the afternoon; when arriving in sight of the house, I saw D. at some distance from the house, walking up and down the road, which I thought very strange of him. I told the driver to go faster; when we reached D. he looked very pale; I asked him if he were ill, but he said he was quite well. He said no one had called to see him, when I asked if any one had come. In the course of conversation during the evening, he advised me quite urgently to move into town; our town house was let, but, he said, I should give notice to the tenants, and forfeit the rental; or else take for the time one of our other houses, in the town. He was quite insistent, but I was sure he had some good and kind reason for his advice. He was a very quiet man, never became excited, even when he was most worried. I acted on his advice, gave notice to the tenants, and had our big town house renovated and put in order for our occupancy. When F. returned, D. met him and had a long talk with him before I saw him. We removed into town almost at once. It was quite late in the afternoon when we ourselves left the house, having sent all the people and things I was taking on before. I stayed to take a last walk through my beautiful garden. When we were some distance away, we heard, it seemed to be in the house, the most terrible noise. I cannot explain (describe?) it, or compare the noise to anything I ever heard before or since. Draper looked back, and I was in the act of looking back, when he caught me and pressed my face against him, and said, "Oh! do not look back! you will be so terrified!" and unlike Lot's wife, I did not insist on looking back. And never, so long as they lived, could I induce either Draper or F. to tell me what they had seen when they looked back; for F. also turned and looked; he and D. were both as pale as death, and F. whipped the horses into a run, till we were out of sight. I afterwards learned that D. had told F. what he had seen and heard, the day he spent alone at the house, and they agreed that I must leave it.

LIT WITH INFERNAL FIRE.

Whilst we lived there, one of the neighbours, living about three-quarters of a mile away, told Hillis that often at night the house seemed to be burning; the interior would seem ablaze, and he could see flames leap from the doors and windows, but, on approaching the place, it would take back its ordinary look. It had this appearance of burning, seen from his house, often after we were living in it. F. tried to rent the place, advertised it in all the papers, told his friends about it, and had a great many applications; but just so soon as he located it, or took the applicants to see it, they would say, "What! not the haunted house, surely!" and some said they would not live in it for a bonus of one thousand dollars per month. We found, after we left it, that the house had for years had the reputation of being haunted, and people were very indignant at the man who had taken advantage of our ignorance to palm it off upon us. Several months after we left, the neighbour who had told of the appearance of burning notified us that the night before the house had been burned in truth. He said that, although he was an old man, he felt so relieved over its being gone, that he felt like dancing for joy. We always believed that it was destroyed purposely, on account of its bad reputation. We lived in this haunted house a year and six months, and all the time the strange noises and other queer things were going on, and we were seeing that big weird cat every few days. I was not very much afraid then, but looking back now at it I feel very badly  frightened.

ADDITIONAL MEMORANDA.

So far my friend. On my own responsibility, writes my correspondent. I will add a few observations to the above. I have transcribed the story as it was sent me, except that I have left out a few repetitions of the same thing, or here and there some comment on details which have no bearing on the appearances, and which probably were introduced as a commentary, on account of my knowing so well the people and the matters. The writer was in poor health at the time of the later occurrences--it was just prior to the birth of her third child--and so her people kept from her many things that happened. I have often heard her mother tell of her own experiences. She it was, you remember, who had the experience with the bed-covers.

A HEAVY GHOST ON THE BED.

She told me that this pulling off of the bedding was of almost nightly occurrence; she did not complain nor leave the house, because she felt that she must accompany her daughter, and was afraid of frightening her by the story What finally drove her from the room was that every night, after hearing--and feeling--some creature moving about the room, it would approach her bed and lie down beside her outside the covers, which it held down so firmly that she could not pull them from under it. At first she thought it might be her little boy, who lay in the same room, but she could hear him breathing in his own little cot, across the room, and then the body was that of a heavy person. She saw the huge cat, time and again; it never made any demonstrations, but looked at her in a very bloodcurdling way, and would disappear in a most disconcertingly sudden fashion. I have heard five or six people, some not members of the family, but visitors to the house, speak of the immense horrible cat, and also describe the noise as of rolling or trundling cannon balls.

THE SPECTRE SEEN BY FIVE MORE WITNESSES.

Another scene which I have several times heard described by participants, evidently has been forgotten by the relator. One winter night a large party of young folk drove out to this house, bent on the festivity known in America as a "surprise party." During the evening a great snowstorm arose, and on account of the inclement weather, and the badness of one bit of the road back to town, the family kept overnight as many as the house could be made to hold. Five young ladies, including the sister "Mollie" mentioned, were put to sleep on pallets, spread on the floor of the par our, which was warmed by a large heater. In the middle of the night everyone was aroused by a chorus of screams from the parlour, and the five girls were found sitting up on their pallets, holding fast to one another and terrified almost into convulsions. They told exactly the same story related above, about the strange woman. They had lain awake to talk, as girls will, and all had seen her at the same time. I will say further, that I have heard six or eight tell their experience with this woman, and all spoke of her as wearing the cap described by my correspondent, but they also said she wore a dark dress--the women called it brown--with white flowers or sprigs, of an old-fashioned pattern. They all said, too, that she wore a most malevolent, not to say devilish, expression. This family was extremely conservative, and felt that there was a certain disgrace attached to the occurrence of such things in their household; this affords a good reason for believing their story, told by each and all, that they never told of these happenings even to outside members of the family--i.e., not in the house at the time--so that each successive one who witnessed the phenomena was ignorant of what had b-fallen his predecessors. Two of the men, "F." and Draper, were sceptical, rather hardened men, who had been in the army; F. was a captain; D. held some rank which I do not remember. The women were very religious, conscientious persons, who would not lie for their lives. They were far from imaginative.


Wednesday, November 30, 2022

Newspaper Clipping of the Day

Via Newspapers.com



I’ve posted about a number of “ghost cats,” but this one may top them all.  The “Daily Republican Register,” June 15, 1923:

Zion, Ill., June 15. From a cat's grave in the rear of a farm shed, has risen Zion catdom’s latest bid for fame. 

It is Topsy, the ghost cat. 

Topsy has risen to fame in the literal sense, for several days ago she was buried after apparently meeting death in an accident. But with eight lives left to her credit, Topsy wasn't content to remain underground.

Today she is placidly enjoying the second of her nine lives.

Topsy's return from the feline Shadowland is told by Ira Blackwell, one of Lake county’s dry agents.

According to Blackwell, Topsy belonged to one of his cousins. 

Topsy was marked with brown black and white spots, her left hind leg had been broken and had reknit but apart from that, she was an ordinary sort of cat, with no signs of future fame apparent. 

One day Topsy was chasing mice in the corn crib when a heavy barrel fell on her. Topsy’s mashed, bleeding remains were dug out by her owner. There was no sign of life.

It was decided to hold a regular funeral for Topsy. A grave was dug at the edge of the orchard, the remains deposited therein with due pomp and ceremony, and a little mound marked with a headstone heaped on the grave. 

The next day a cat strolled into the kitchen. It was a bit wobbly and its whiskers were dirty. 

It had brown, black and white spots, and seemed strangely at home.

An examination disclosed a left hind leg that had been broken and had knitted.

At last, Topsy’s mourners. hastened to the grave. They opened the grave, and dug down to the bottom. 

There were no cat remains there.

I can only add that I hope Zombie Topsy enjoyed her unusual place in Cat History for a great many years.  And when her people eventually had to do a re-do on her burial, let’s hope they made sure she really needed one.

Wednesday, April 27, 2022

Newspaper Clipping of the Day

Via Newspapers.com



This heartbreaking little tale appeared in the “Hull Daily News,” July 27, 1928.  The author used the pseudonym “Perambulator”:

I like ghost stories and have read a good many; but I know only one which, to me at least, is absolutely convincing, and that is the story that I tell you to-day. The trouble to me about the others, to my own mind, is that they are too vague; names, and dates and places are not precisely given in the printed books or papers which contain the yarns; and, if someone tells you, by word of mouth, what it was that is supposed to have happened, it never (in my experience) happened to the man himself, but only to someone he knows or once heard about. However excellent the setting and apparently authentic the ghosts, the evidence for their appearance at any particular place or time, and to any particular persons, always seems to me too shaky to make a genuine demand upon my powers of belief. I do not, that is to say, really "believe" any of the many "ghost stories" that I have read or been told.

I live in a house where, if anywhere in Hull, it should be possible to "see ghosts," and there are stories stretching over its hundreds of years of history which should encourage "psychics " to see and to hear all sorts of amazing and inexplicable sights and sounds; but I am obliged to say that though I have heard of these things, as happening to people who lived here before me, I have heard of them only at second or third hand, and not from anyone to whom the marvels actually happened. 

I am, that is to say, prejudiced against the “ghosts," almost to the point of arguing that “there ain't no such things." 

Having said this, I trust you will accept what I now write as a truthful account of an experience, which I give with full references to place and time and persons, as being a faithful record of what I still regard as altogether inexplicable, and which I now relate with all the respect for absolute truth of which I am capable. 

It was in July, eight years ago, here in my own garden, and it happened to me myself, who writes these words; so there you have the date and the place and the person all complete, since the Editor knows who I am, and that I really live in Hull, and am a more or less truthful and reliable fellow. 

I had gone to London for the first Anglo-Catholic Congress at the Albert Hall, and on the morning after my arrival in town I had a letter from Perambulatrix saying that she was very sorry, but on the afternoon of my leaving home (i.e., on the previous day), she had been obliged to have our cats destroyed, since she had found them sleeping in the baby's cot, along with the baby, and was afraid lest they should get over the child's face and smother him. 

These two cats were my peculiar property and care. I had brought one of them from Gloucestershire soon after the Armistice, and the other, a mere kitten, had been born a few months before, at Bridlington, just before we removed to Hull. The mother-cat was undersized, and the kitten was black, with white waistcoat and gloves, and they belonged especially to me in the sense that it was I who attended to their food and gave them shelter whenever they wanted it in my study, where they could come in and go out as they pleased, and where nobody ever interfered with either of them. 

Whether because of the regular feeding, or by reason of the peace and quietness of the room into which nobody ever came except myself and these cats, the animals attached themselves particularly to me. and used to follow me about and wander round the garden with me; "Daddy's cats" the children called them. Especially, when in the evening I cut the grass, the creatures would walk beside the machine or sit under the mulberry tree which is the patent of our garden's nobility and watch what I was doing, or perhaps dream, for all I know, of what I should be doing in a little while, when the time came for their supper. 

I knew the two animals pretty well, you see, and as far as any mere man can care for a cat, or cats allow themselves really to bother about human beings, I was fond of them and they managed to appear as though they were interested in me. 

And so that morning in London, when I heard that they had been done in, I was, first of all shocked, and then afterwards very sorry indeed! There was nothing to be said or done about it. of course. If Perambulatrix feared for the well-being of a child she did right when she gave the fatal order. And the Porter, his name was William Carltorn, did but his duty when he put them in a sack with a couple of bricks and dropped them into the Hull River. I myself should have taken them round to a vet. or a chemist, but they were not the first pussycats that have gone overboard like that nor will they be the last. 

Writing home I said nothing about the tragedy, nor when i returned at the end of the week did we talk about what had happened. The thing was done, and probably rightly done, however sorry I felt, and however much I missed my cats there was an end of it! 

But, as you are to hear, not quite the end! The grass, naturally, had grown while I was away, and on the Saturday afternoon I began my job of cutting it. The task took four or five hours, and I was accustomed to finish up near the mulberry tree. On this Saturday evening, round about half-past eight, as nearly as I remember. I had made good going, and was within a few minutes of the end of the job, when I noticed my two cats sitting, as they were wont to sit, under the tree, side by side, waiting, as it seemed, and as they had done a score of times already that summer, for the moment when I should drag the machine away and go indoors with them and give them their supper. 

I thought nothing about it until I realised, very slowly, that the two creatures simply had no business to be there! 

I stopped my grass-cutting and walked towards them, looking closely at them from a distance of three or four yards. snapping my fingers and saying something about “Pussy-tats. Pussy-tats," as I had said so often, in similar circumstances before. 

Instead of coming to me, as I think I expected them to do, the under-sized tabby mother moved deliberately round to the back of the tree, and the little black kitten with the white waistcoat and gloves skittered off among the shrubs and disappeared, and that was the last I ever saw of either of them. 

So far the thing seems simple and explicable enough; but there is more to come. I myself thought, as I left my unfinished lawn and walked towards the house, that my imagination was working too vividly; that I had perhaps been over-excited by the week in town and by the little domestic tragedy of the death of the creatures I knew so well; and that was what I went on thinking for another week or two; nor did I speak of the matter to anyone, in the house or out of it. 

Until a fortnight later, when the Vicar of Drypool—l am anxious, you notice, to give as many exact details as I can—was having supper with us one Friday evening after preaching in a neighbouring chapel. 

I told him the story of the cats as I have told it to you: their violent death and their subsequent reappearance under the mulberry tree, and it was at this point that the real difficulty began, for Perambulatrix burst out excitedly, and all that she said was supported by a cousin who was staying with us at the time, the wife of the Vicar of St.. Leodegarius, Basford, in the Diocese of Southwell, who had been our guest while I was away in London, and who had been sitting with Perambulatrix while I cut the grass, and who together with her had, unknown to me, seen my rencontre with the cats that had no business to be there, and had wondered what in the world to make of it. 

People to whom I have told the tale have offered three separate "explanations,'' none of which, however, seems to me satisfactory. 

(1) I imagined the whole thing, and that as I say, was my own opinion at first. Against that, there is the fact that while I left the machine and called to my cats under the tree, two other people were sitting thirty or forty yards away; that they had seen the cats before I did, and wondered why they were there, that they had watched me, as stated, go towards them, had seen the cats get up and disappear, and then had seen me come into the house, but had not cared to speak to me about it all. "Imagination" does not cover these facts, unless we accept the statement that the three of us imagined precisely the same unexpected and inexplicable things at precisely the same moment and in exactly the same spot. 

(2) They were not the same cats, but some others that chanced to come into the garden and to sit just there just at that moment Truly, a multitude of cats lives hereabout and in those days before a new dog took charge of this garden, many of them were accustomed to dig and scratch and howl therein at all hours of the day and night.  But none of them were friendly with me, none of them ever sat down in my presence, but rather fled for their lives when they saw me coming. No! Those were my own cats, and no other, for a man recognises animals that belong to him as surely as he knows his own hat or his own pipe; and there was no mistaking the size and the markings and the behaviour of that mother and daughter who sat, not for the first time in one special spot under one particular tree and quietly watched me cutting the grass! 

(3) The cats were not really drowned by the Porter, and had somehow found their way back, as cats do to the familiar hunting-grounds. It it true that for a few weeks after these things happened, my children would sometimes say that they had seen "our pussies" in the garden; but I think they made the easy mistake, for them, of thinking that strangers and trespassers were the creatures that used to come in and out of Daddy's study and follow him in the garden, though they never had much to do with other people in the house. I made careful enquiry at the time, and there was no room for doubt that the Porter did exactly as he was told, and got rid once for all, of those two unfortunate cats. I have never seen or imagined that I saw anything of either of them, except on that one occasion on a Saturday evening, as here related. 

What explanation then do I myself offer? I have nothing of the sort to give. As far as I know the meaning of truth, I have told this story truly; but it remains as one of the most puzzling incidents in my life, and until someone provides an adequate and reasonable solution of the whole inexplicable business, it will be, for me, the one occasion on which I have "seen ghosts," even though the ghosts were merely those of a couple of quite ordinary cats.

I have to say, I was hoping this narrative would end with “Perambulatrix” being stuffed into a sack and tossed into the river.  Oh, well.

Monday, December 13, 2021

A Blazing Cat Ghost and the Devil on Horseback: Scenes From a Welsh Neighborhood




As I have mentioned before, Wales has a way of producing many first-rate ghost accounts, ones that are both picturesque and deeply sinister.  In the late 19th century, a young antiquarian named D. Lledrod Davies collected a number of real-life supernatural tales, many of them first-hand accounts.  After his early death in 1890, his friends published these stories in a small pamphlet titled “Ystraeon y Gwyll.”  (“Stories of the Dark.”)  Unfortunately, this pamphlet has apparently never been translated into English (or any other language.)  However, at least two other published works, the “Occult Review” for December 1911, and Jonathan Davies’ book “Folk-lore of West and Mid-Wales” contain translated excerpts.  They focus on the uncanny goings on around an old house near Rhosmeherin, by Ystrad Meurig in Cardiganshire, which Lledrod Davies described as “a perfect nest of spirits.”

“No one liked to pass by there after nightfall, for if they were obliged to, they were certain to see a ghost in some form or other, most often in the shape of a cat, which would sometimes swell and swell until it looked like a great calf. It would also follow people down the road, and they often had trouble to escape it. In fact the mere thought created fear and horror in the bosoms of many of the inhabitants of the neighbourhood, without even a sight of it.

“At that time it was the custom amongst the brotherhood of tailors to go round the country working, and it so happened that one of that guild had a job at a house called Blaen Pincher, not far from the haunted farm, and in order to go home he had to pass that place of spirits, or else go round a long way. And being a timid man by nature, the very thought of having to pass the farm sent terror through his bones.

"Generally he was careful to be home before complete darkness set in (though to do so he had to double the haste of his stitches), and one evening he began his journey hoping to pass the farm before dusk. A little way from the house there was a spring of water, and it was there as a rule that the ghost made its first appearance. The tailor reached this well and was passing it, when he happened to glance behind him, and experienced a shock of fear as he saw a reddish-gray cat trotting close to his heels, which, as he stopped short in alarm, leaped to the top of the garden hedge belonging to the farm. He struck wildly at it with the stick he carried, but the cat, eluding the blows, snarled and grinned, and presently began swelling out in some extraordinary way till it seemed double its size, and made as if it would fly at him. Just then he managed to hit it hard and fairly on the back, but what were his feelings when the blow, which should almost have killed an ordinary animal, went through this one as if it had been vapour, producing a shower of sparks in which the cat disappeared.

“This was too much for the poor tailor, who made for home as fast as he could, though he could never afterwards remember how he got there….I have heard him tell this story many times, and believe he felt real terror every time he came to the part where the cat disappeared in fire. He saw many spirits in the course of his life, but this was the only one that ever made any lasting impression on him.”

Another man passing through the area had an even more disturbing experience.  Leave it to the Welsh to encounter not just an evil fiery cat ghost, but Satan himself.  

“I was going home one evening from my work from Ros y Wlad, and had to go through Rhosmeherin.

“That place, you know, is a terrible spot for its ghosts. People say that they are seen there in broad daylight. As to myself I did not see them in the daytime, but many a time was I kept there all night by Jack-a-Lantern. [“Corpse-candles”]

 “I saw a ghost in the form of a cat there also, and when I began to strike him he disappeared in a blazing fire. But now for the gentleman. I was near the spot where I had seen the cat, when I heard the sound of a horse coming after me. I jumped one side to make room for him to pass; but when he came opposite me he did not go forward a single pace faster than myself. When I went on slowly, he went slowly; when I went fast, he went fast. “Good night,” said I at last, but no answer. Then I said it was a very fine night, but the gentleman on horseback did not seem to take any notice of what I said. Then thinking that he might be an Englishman (the man was speaking in Welsh), I said in English ‘Good night,’ but he took no notice of me still. 

 “By this I was beginning to perspire and almost ready to fall down with fright, hoping to get rid of him, as I now perceived that he was the Devil himself appearing in the form of a gentleman. I could think from the sound of the saddle and the shining stirrups that the saddle was a new one. On we went along the dark narrow lane till we came to the turnpike road, when it became a little lighter, which gave me courage to turn my eyes to see what kind of a man he was. The horse looked like a soldier’s horse, a splendid one, and his feet like the feet of a calf, without any shoes under them, and the feet of the gentleman in the stirrups were also like the feet of a calf. My courage failed me to look what his head and body were like. On we went till we came to the cross-road. I had heard many a time that a ghost leaves everybody there. Well, to the cross-road we came. But ah! I heard the sound of the ground as if it were going to rend, and the heavens going to fall upon my head; and in this sound I lost sight of him (the Spirit). How he went away I know not, nor the direction he went.”