Wyke, Bradford, West Yorkshire (1909)

Animated Yorkshire Furniture.
Woman’s uncanny experiences.
Lively cane chair – extraordinary story.

Occurrences which, to say the least, are extremely uncanny, are taking place at the house of Mrs Priestly, 6 Church Street, Wykes, Bradford.
These phenomena are not confined to midnight and obscurity, but take place repeatedly in broad daylight, and in the presence of various people. The other night the occupants of No. 6 were startled by loud knockings on the wall, as though with a hammer. These knockings were also heard next door by Mrs John Smith, although the houses are separated by an entry. The knocking was continued, and about dinner time, on going into the front room, Mrs Priestly found everything in disorder.

With the assistance of Mrs Smith she put the things straight, adn they went out of the room, but on going back again immediately afterwards they found the things again in confusion. A chair and small table had been lifted on to the bed, ornaments had been thrown off the mantelpiece, but not broken, a pillow was moved from the top to the bottom of the bed, &c.

They again straightened the things, but the performance was repeated time after time, and whilst Mrs Priestly was sitting in a chair, and Mrs Smith was the only other occupant of the room, a cover came off the sofa and hit the former lady in the face. Mrs Smith put it back, but the same thing happened again. After it had been repeated a third time the women left the room in alarm. The disturbance then commenced in the kitchen on similar lines, and in the passage.

Among people who have witnessed some of the movements are Mrs Priestly, two of her daughters, and her grand-daughter; Mr James Jones, undertaker, Wyke, and his wife and daughter; Miss Harpen, Buttershaw; Mr and Mrs John Jones, 3 Church Street; and Mr John Brayshaw, butcher, New Road Side, Wyke.

A crowd of about two hundred people assembled in the street amid great excitement, and watched the house until about an hour after midnight in the hope of seeing something unusual, but things seemed to quieten down during the evening. Next morning, however, whilst Mrs Priestly was in the room one of the chairs again had a “seizure” and she saw it come out of its place in the corner, clatter noisily round the open door, and stop in the centre of the room. A small brush also struck Miss Priestly on the shoulder.

It may be mentioned that the Priestlys are Wesleyans, and do not believe in spiritualism. Mrs Priestly is a native of Dudley Hill, but has lived in Wyke more than forty years. Nothing of the kind has ever happened in the house or in the experience of the occupants before.

Bradford Daily Telegraph, 7th June 1909.

Goblin Revels. Bewitched house at Wyke.

The voyages of soap bars. Last night’s merry pranks.

The excitment at Wyke over the strange happenings in Mrs Priestley’s house, reported in yesterday’s “Telegraph,” shows no signs of abatement. Last night crowds collected round No. 6, Church Street – and in all truth both the house and the street look innocent enough – to catch a glimpse of walking chairs or flying antimacassars. But the manifestations are apparently not vouchsafed to idle gazers, for nothing extraordinary happened while they were watching.

But on speaking to Mrs Priestley this morning our representative was informed that there was a recurrence of this spookist playfulness last night. This fact is worthy of notice, for hitherto the phenomena have been confined to the daytime. The darkness certainly seems to be the fittest time for such weird eccentricities.

Mr Baker, of Dudley Hill, who is a brother-in-law of Mrs Priestley’s, had been spending the night at her house to see what he could, and if possible discover the cause of the impish revels. He is an old man of about 78 years of age, and certainly seems to have very cynical views with regard to things supernatural. Now his name must be added to the list of eye-witnesses.

It was about one o’clock this morning when a knock sounded at the front door. Mrs Priestley asked him if he had heard the noise, for he is somewhat deaf. He answered that he had. Getting up he went to the front door and discovered to his amazement that a leaden model used for keeping the door open had walked down the passage some yards.

They were just returning [it] back when, looking on the floor, they found a piece of soap. Mrs Priestley at once recognised it as a piece that had been kept in the bathroom, whither it was decorously taken back. Four times did it repeat the performance of coming downstairs, and four times was it replaced. Nor did it come alone, for other two bars accompanied it on one of its trips. Whence they came Mrs Priestley was unable to explain, for they had not been placed in the bathroom by her or any other member of the household. Then one by one came down the flannel, the towel, and the lading-can, the latter making a fearful clatter. It was evident by this time that the bathroom was bewitched. On proceeding upstairs it was discovered that the towel-rail had gone on a roving expedition by itself.

When Mr Baker arrived it was on the point of toppling over the top of the stairs, and he was just in time to save it from committing suicide.

All these things happened between one and two this morning, and can be vouched for by various eye-witnesses. It may be mentioned that those present in the house at the time made a thorough search without discovering anything extraordinary.

On going into the bedroom, which was the first centre of disorder, our representative sat down, naturally enough upon an innocent looking chair. He was at once informed, in somewhat startled tones, that that was the article of furniture which had made a name for itself by jumping on to the bed. He rose at once.

A close examination, however, failed to reveal any evidence that the chair had been tampered with by practical jokers or others, and the same may be said with regard to the other articles which have become possessed from time to time.

At first the attitude of the people of Wyke was one of sheer doubt. Now, however, since people well known and respected in the village have seen with their own eyes, the feeling is becoming more that of wonderment, not unmixed with fright. Mrs Priestley herself takes the whole business philosophically, and neither expresses nor shows any fear.

Bradford Daily Telegraph, 8th June 1909.

The Wyke Ghost.

Wyke, or, at least, a certain part of it, is much excited by the mysterious antics of a ghost, which, as yet, has not revealed itself to public gaze. One of our representatives, who visited the scene this morning, gives an interesting story in another column. In a house, No. 6, Church-street, occupied by a Mrs Priestley and her two daughters, strange things have happened. There has been loud knocking, furniture has danced about the room, and the mistress of the house has been hit in the face by an antimacassar. The happenings have been witnessed by independent witnesses in broad daylight. A singular feature is that Church-street is in a populous part of the village. It is one of many streets at what is called New Road Side, Storr Hill. It is on the border line dividing Wyke from Low Moor, but just within the Wyke boundary.

Halifax Evening Courier, 8th June 1909.

Whimsical Wyke.

Furniture’s Fantastic Feats.

Strange Series of Surprises.

Nobody in their sober senses could associate prosaic Wyke with spooks or ghosts. Ironworks, quarries and things that you can collar hold of are more in the line of the residents of this elevated place. Yet Wykeonians are just now much perturbed about strange happenings at the house of Mrs Priestley, Church-street, during the past few days. According to the accounts of those who have been in the household since Sunday night, articles of furniture have adopted actions of animate creatures, and chased about the household even in broad day-light.

In order to bring the cold light of reason to bear upon the mysterious antics taking place in what has become to be regarded as a haunted household, a “Courier” reporter was despatched to the scene of action this forenoon. Wyke seethed with excitement. Never such a thing had happened in the village before. Usually there is an air of serenity about the village, but to-day, people are standing about the streets in knots discussing the extraordinary situation which has arisen. One had no difficulty in finding Church-street, narrow thoroughfare though it is. All eyes were turned in that direction, and women with beshawled heads were conversing together excitedly. “They nivver had such a neet as last neet!” was a sentence typical of the general conversation, and they all gazed in awe at No. 6! This is a brick building standing by itself. It looks solid enough. There is nothing supernatural in its appearance. From the front an admirable view of the landscape is obtainable although to the aesthetic the belching ironworks may be ruffling. Last night Church-street was crowded, and the residents at No. 6 were harassed, so many callers had they.

When the “Courier” man knocked at the door this forenoon, he was courteously received by the head of the household, Mrs Priestley, a pleasant widow lady of 82 years and she kindly detailed the experiences of the household during the night. Mr Butler, her brother-in-law, who is also getting on in years and lives at Dudley Hill, volunteered to keep watch during last night to see the “ghost” at work. He had, says Mrs Priestley, a lively time, between one and two o’clock. “At one o’clock,” said the old lady, “I heard a knock at the front door. He can’t hear so well and I thought he might not have heard the knock, and so I called out. But he had. He went into the passage and found a weight which I use to keep the door closed had moved along the passage.” A youth who was in the house brought out the weight for the inspection of the Pressman. It was a representation of “Woodman, spare that tree!” in lead, stands about a foot high, and weighs about 3lb.

Mr Butler looked round and found at the bottom of the stairs leading to the bath-room and bedrooms a piece of soap. Such an article of toilet is common on a dressing table, but not in the front passage. He called out to Mrs Priestley, explaining what he had found. She thought it was strange. Mr Butler took the soap into the bathroom, went downstairs and awaited development. In a little while he heard a noise, and, there, lo and behold, were two pieces of soap at the bottom of the staircase. Up he went into the bathroom again, and convinced himself that there was nobody about. Again he repaired to the living-room for a period, only to find in a few minutes at the bottom of the staircase three pieces of soap! It was enough to make one have the creeps. Four times he took the soap upstairs, and four times did soap come down. It was “moving” soap with a vengeance!

But this was not all. After the soap had been in action, a piece of wet flannel, which had been on the dressing table, came chasing down the staircase, followed by a towel. Mr Butler had quite a busy time replacing the articles which would persist in a downward flight. After he had settled down again, there was a rattle, a bang, a clatter in the staircase. This was very uncanny. The articles which this time “took up its bed and walked” out of the bathroom was a laiding-can [lading can], which, in its descent, roused the household.

Things were getting worse, and evidently Mr Butler had got more than he had bargained for. When would these strange things end? Before long he heard a noise in the bathroom, and readers may imagine his consternation when – so he told Mrs Priestley – he found the towel-rail had “walked” to the top of the staircase, and was ready to tilt down the steps when he prevented such an untoward occurrence. Mrs Priestley is grateful that he reached the top of the steps in time, for, as she says, the towel-rail, which is in good condition, might have been broken. We saw the towel-rail this forenoon. There was nothing supernatural about it.

In the front room the “Courier” man was shown a pillow which had flung itself at Mrs Priestley, a miniature monument of Byron which had jumped from the mantle-piece, a chair which had become quite erratic in its movements, jumping about the place, and a small table which had adopted a roving commission.

People roundabout are very much puzzled, and some who have gone to No. 6 in a sceptical mood have come away convinced that some supernatural force is at work. The “Courier” man tried to get at the bottom of it all. In reply to questions, Mrs Priestley said there was no lively youngster about the house who went in for practical joking, and she was convinced that the foundations were safe. But there might have been a lot in the remark of a man whom we met in the railway carriage as we came back from Wyke, viz., that there has been a lot of excavating for minerals in this district, and it is quite possible the rock “down under” is undergoing a settling process. It is an unromantic way of spoiling a “ghost” story, but we vividly realised that something of this sort occurred at Elland Lower Edge some years ago. Not only did furniture “move,” but buildings followed suit!

Halifax Evening Courier, 8th June 1909.

Astounding Story.

Remarkable happenings at Wyke.

Furniture which overturns and cushions which play tricks.

Manifestations which puzzle the neighbourhood.

A remarkable story comes concerning a house at Wyke. Built of brick, and detached from its neighbours, the house is one of perhaps a dozen, all of different aspect, which form a cul-de-sac. There is a small paved yard fronting on the street. Behind the house is what is designated the front door, which overlooks the open country and the Low Moor Ironworks from an elevation. This is No. 6, Church-street, New Road Side. Its owner is Mrs Priestley, now 82 years of age, who resides in the house with two daughters and a pretty grand-daughter. In appearance comfortable, almost villa-like, No. 6 is in the middle of a crooked row of buildings. In the next house lives Mrs John Smith with her husband. There is nothing remarkable about the vicinity, so far as a casual glance reveals, except a small crowd of curious onlookers, discussing the recent visitation of “spooks” and awaiting developments.

The early hours of Sunday morning saw – or rather heard – the first sign which disturbed the tranquility of the neighbourhood. Mrs Priestley and her relatives in one house, and Mr and Mrs Smith in the other, were awakened in their beds by the sound of ominous thuds on the inner wall of No. 6. The ground-floor room in Church-street is a living kitchen, out of which opens a scullery. In the front of the house, facing the fields, is a bed in which the old lady sleeps, owing to her difficulty in mounting steps. But the room is furnished and used as a parlour. It was here that the manifestation was first heard.

Mysterious noises. The noises were distinct and persistent. Mrs Priestley, however, as she told a “Daily Guardian” reporter to-day, attributed the sounds to blasting operations at the furnaces down the fields. In spite of her age, the central figure in this romantic story looks virile and healthy, and beams the kindliest smile through her glasses. She was undisturbed in mind by the violent knockings, and fell asleep again.

Nothing further of an unusual character happened until eleven o’clock on Sunday morning. Mrs Smith had called in to ask what the nocturnal noises might have been. She was leaving the house when Mrs Priestley called her back. Now comes the remarkable part of this most extraordinary series of apparently supernatural events. Mrs Smith re-entered the house to find the whole of her aged neighbour’s bedroom in disorder. The chairs were turned upside down, the bedclothes were disarranged, the cushions had been strewn on the floor. No one had been in the front room in the meantime.

Greatly puzzled, as may well be imagined, the two ladies, assisted by the younger members of Mrs Priestley’s family, began to put the furniture in order. Having put things straight, they returned to the kitchen. Immediately there was a noise in the front room. All of them ran to see what had occurred, and were amazed to find the furniture again in disorder on the floor, and the carpets pulled up. While they were engaged in picking up chairs and restoring cushions to the seats, a chair in the kitchen, according to their weird story, turned itself upside down.

The household was in consternation. Feeling exhausted Mrs Priestley sat down in a rocking chair beside her bed. Mrs Smith, a middle-aged lady, went on adjusting the counterpane. Suddenly, without the least warning, a handwork cushion cover lying at the head of the couch, flew into Mrs Priestley’s face. we saw the cushion cover to-day, as it lay on the couch. It is white, with a rough face, like a bath towel, and it is used as an antimacassar.

Naturally the old lady cried out in fright. Mrs Smith seized the cover, and put it back in its place. Hardly had she left it, however, before it again struck Mrs Priestley in the face, and it repeated its strange antics a third time.

Then another cushion began to play tricks, and, according to Mrs Smith, it jumped off the chair on which it was resting and placed itself neatly and comfortably on another chair. Meanwhile a small basket-chair began to get very excited. It turned itself upside-down, danced about the room, and behaved in the most extraordinary manner. After the attacks of the cushion cover, Mrs Priestley had felt a little uneasy, and had gone into the kitchen, and Mrs Smith decided to take the basket-chair with her. “He was the liveliest of the lot,” she said in an interview, alluding to the chair, “and to keep him quiet I thought I would sit on him. One of the girls said it was electricity, and might give me a shock, but he was such a lively one that I thought I would keep him quiet. A few minutes later we heard a noise in the other room, and rushed in to find everything upset again, and, in addition, a little bust of Lord Byron that had been on the mantelshelf was standing on the floor. We had only just got back into the room when Ada (Mrs Priestley’s daughter) cried, ‘Your chair’s running down the garden!’ I rushed back and saw the chair fall over at the foot of the steps leading from the house into the garden.”

After the incident outside the house, Miss Dutton, a grown-up grand-daughter of Mrs Priestley, called at the door. She was frankly sceptical about the phenomena, of which she was told. Whilst she was standing in the little passage leading to the front door, looking into the front room, a roll of carpet moved itself from behind the door, and on turning, she found a piece of oilcloth reared against her back. This sounds the crudest romance, but the gyrations of the carpet were witnessed by Mr Smith, who is evidently a man of commonsense, and he vouched for the accuracy of the story to the Press representatives.

Capering Cooking Utensils. There were also other witnesses of the uncanny and nearly incredible ghost comedy. Mr James Jones, a Wyke undertaker, and his wife and daughter, Miss Harpen, of Buttershaw, and Mr John Brayshaw, butcher, of Wyke, who is, we believe, a son-in-law of Mrs Priestley, allbear testimony as to spookish manifestations whilst they were in the dwellings. The cooking utensils are said to have clanked and capered about the shelves. Mrs Priestley’s nephew, on our visit to-day, let us feel the weight of a leaden figure of a woodman standing on a broad case, and used to hold a door open. This heavy object, weighing 14 or 16 lbs., circled round Mrs Priestley and Mrs Smith, and then fell over.

On Sunday night the occupants of the house slept peacefully, and were undisturbed. It was not until Monday, shortly before noon, that the graceless imps began their mischief again. Miss Priestley, the daughter of the old lady, was hit with a brush that was hurled by no human hand, if credence can be given to the relation of these mystic happenings. About the same time, a cane chair in the kitchen became animated, and described a circle round Mrs Priestley.

The tidings of ghosts and goblins spiriting round the house drew crowds of spectators to Church-street last night. But there was nothing abnormal to be seen. So dense was the crowd that police had to make a way through the street for those who had business there. One of the arrivals, about nine o’clock in the evening, was Mrs Priestley’s brother-in-law, Mr Butler, who had come to stay the night, awake in the enchanted parlour. Mr Butler is 78 years of age, Mrs Priestley told our representative. He is a retired butcher, and lives at Dudley Hill. As we sat opposite to her in the cosy living-room, the venerable lady in the mob cap told us quite calmly the strange doings of the preceding night. Mr Butler had left the house when we called. There was a married nephew and one or two youths sitting in the room, and an old lady was washing clothes through the open scullery door, the grand-daughter turning the mangle.

All of Monday night’s disturbance, said Mrs Priestley, was confined to one hour. About one o’clock she heard the “woodman” behind the front door thumping on the boarded passage floor. She was awake at the time, and wondered if Mr Butler, who is deaf, had heard it, too. She called to him, and found that he had. He went along the passage with a lighted candle, and nearly tumbled over the prostrate leaden figure, which had moved much nearer the door of the front room, where Mrs Priestley lay.

The extraordinary tale of the soap tablet. In suspense the old dame asked him what he could see. He replied that after replacing the weight he had found a piece of soap in the passage, at the bottom of the bedroom stairs, which led directly from the bathroom. He went up the steps, and restored the soap to the dressing table. Three times that piece of soap – a third division of 1lb. tablet – decended the bedroom stairs, on each occasion with a light thud on each step. “We could hear it quite distinctly,” Mrs Priestley assured our representative. It seems that altogether three squares of soap came downstairs of their own accord. No one in the house knew there was more than one lump in the bathroom. The sliding soap was followed by the performance of a piece of wet flannel, also from the dressing-table.

Mr Butler kept on ascending the stairs, carrying back the frisky toilet articles. Then a louder noise was heard. A tin ladling-can came banging from step to step, and bounced into the passage, bulging itself in the fall. No one knew that the lading-can had left its shelf in the scullery. The next visit to the foot of the stairs resulted in the discovery of a towel from the bathroom, lying on the bottom step. Interested but undaunted – for he is a man of no illusions, his nephew told us – Mr Butler picked up the truant towel, and once more mounted the steps. His surprise may be judged when he reached the top with his candle, to find the towel rail out of the bathroom, standing at the head of the stairs, ready for tilting over. This was the last of the phenomena for the vigil.

When we were in the front room we were allowed to handle the towel rail, an artistic piece of furniture which Mrs Priestley was glad had not been broken. We were also shown a little statuette, the bust of Byron, which had leaped off the mantelshelf with no ill-effect to itself, thanks to the carpet. “You are not a medium,” soliloquised Mrs Priestley’s nephew, whilst causes were being discussed. “No, I’ve never been a medium woman,” Mrs Priestley remarked. We understand that she is a Wesleyan. “Nobody has been able to tell us how it is,” she added, and then, turning to two or three Pressmen, she asked, “What do you think?” Beyond asking if there were children in the house, none of the journalists ventured an explanation. The idea that a mischievous boy might have occasioned the rappings and disorder was not seriously considered as a possibility.

When we were approaching the house, we met a gentleman of German mein leaving the door. We stopped him to inquire what intelligence we might glean. “I was aksed to come,” he informed us, in broken English. “I laughed yesterday,” he went on, “but now I believe it. It’s a reality.” He proceeded to tell us what he had read in a book of similar visitations, in a case where spirits wreaked fell vengeance on a monk for his wrong-doings. He was sending to Leipsic for the book, he said. “I have told the old lady,” he continued, “to sit in the house alone. When the spirits come – and I am not a Spiritualist – but when the antimacassar strikes her again, I have told her to ask the spirit what she can do for it. We are all Christians, I said, and if she prays these ghosts will cease coming.”

The Vicar of Wyke, the Rev. A.J. Howell, was amongst the callers at Mrs Priestley’s house. He called to see if he could render help. Interviewed by a Pressman, he said he was sorry that nothing had happened whilst he was in the house. He frankly confessed himself puzzled, but refused to adopt the unscientific and unphilosophical attitude of denying the possibility of these things. Had it only been a few women who had seen them and become a little hysterical one might have doubted it,” he said, “but then men like Mr Smith, Mr Jones, and Mr Brayshaw, the butcher, all saw these things, and they are all shrewd, sensible men who are not likely to be deceived, and whom one must believe.”

The police constable in the district, whom we saw in the road, makes merry over what he hears of the ghostly occurrences. But the crowd still assembles in the narrow crooked street, some of them almost awe-struck. “Is this the house?” asked one youth. He was assured that it was, and then inquired, in blank bewilderment: “Where did it start from?”

We endeavoured to find Mr Butler, and to interview him we journeyed on foot to Low Moor. We traced him to his daughter’s house, but only to learn that he had gone home to Dudley Hill. His daughter says she may spend to-night in the haunted house. She is of a sceptical turn of mind even yet.

We took the train for Halifax at Low Moor. Arrived at Wyke, some business men entered the compartment. “It’s a funny thing,” said one, a Lightcliffe gentleman. “But I don’t believe it. My wife does, though. She’s been telling me that many a time when I’ve been out she’s heard rappings in the house.” “Well,” said his companion, “I’ve lived fifty years, and I’ve never known anything disappear unless somebody took it.” The ghosts at Wyke are the sole topic of conversation between Halifax and Bradford. “I’m not surprised,” said one passenger in the train. “All the minerals have been got out of that hillside. There’s a road subsidence on the tramway route every two years. There was a road-engine sank into a hole not so long since. The excavations underneath have something to do with it.” But Mrs Priestley, we remembered, was quite emphatic that there had been no mining under her property.

So the mystery of sleepless ghosts remains.

Halifax Daily Guardian, 8th June 1909.

The remarkable happenings at Wyke.

A few more strange things have happened at the haunted house at Wyke and yesterday evening the Priestleys, assisted by relatives and friends, gave the house a good clean out in the hope of clearing out all its undesirable invisibilities.

Halifax Daily Guardian, 9th June 1909.

Wyke’s Goblin
No more pranks.
Octogenarian’s unanswered challenge.
Memories of the Bierley Boggard.

Peace at last! Wyke’s ghostly visitor – if such it be – has for the present at any rate ceased to trouble the inhabitants of No. 6, Church Street. On inquiring this morning it was learned that although friends had remained in the house till the early hours in the anticipation of finding themselves the centre of a bedlam of dancing chairs, savage antimacassars or roving bars of soap, nothing unusual has occurred for thirty-six hours. In fact, last night Wyke was as quiet as Wyke usually is.

The inhabitants of the village have ceased to doubt that these things actually happened, for they argue, “Have they not been seen by witnesses whom we know?” Naturally, however, they are loth to attribute the pranks to supernatural agency until every other theory has been exhuasted.

Some still hold that the whole affair was a practical joke. But anyone who has visited the house will realise that if this were the case the joker is a person of such skill and ingenuity that he would hardly be off the stage, where he could make a handsome living.

The rooms in which the occurrences took place are so small that it would be almost impossible for anyone to be concealed in them, and every nook and cranny has been searched again and again. Moreover, the articles which became so strangely animated show no signs of tampering and are normal in every respect.

Imagination, they argue, will do the rest. But it is hard to explain why only No. 6 should be troubled, why it should be troubled only at certain times, and why it should not have been troubled before.

Meanwhile, the hero of the hour at Wyke is Mr. Seth Hy, Butler, of Dudley Hill, Mrs Priestley’s brother-in-law, who bravely faced the music on Monday night. He is an old man approaching his eightieth year, a retired butcher, with a butcher’s nerves. This morning our reporter found him getting ready to attend his niece’s wedding, but on being asked he readily consented to tell how he spoke to the Whatever-It-Was and funked it not.

He was summoned by post to Mrs Priestley’s home in her period of trouble, and, after the family had gone to bed on Monday night at twelve o’clock, he sat up reading and smoking in the kitchenwith all the lights full on, and a lamp ready at his side. About one o’clock things began to happen just as reported in the “Telegraph.” For a time he busied himself in trotting upstairs with the erring bars of soap, the towels, and the flannels, only to find that they came shuttering down again.

At last he went to the bottom of the stairs and called out, “Is there anything else to come down? I’ve had enough of this: I’m tired. If you have anything to say, say it now, because I’m ready to hear you.” But the Whatever-It-Was answered him never a word. Although confessing himself a decided sceptic as to things supernatural this is not the first time Mr. Butler has touched on the fringe of the uncanny. As a matter of fact, he remembers the well-known Bierley Boggard. This is the story he told our reporter this morning:

“Of course, it’s going back a long time now. It’s 58 years ago. I was a young man of 21 years then, and had a butcher’s shop at East Bierley. In those days there were no policemen, you must understand, so I had to stay at the shop all night and watch it. It was a warm night in June, and two dogs were with me, one inside the shop and one outside in the yard. Between twelve and one o’clock in the morning I was just getting my bed ready and was still dressed, when I heard carriage wheels rattle in the yard.

“The dogs heard it, too, and began to bark loudly. I was very surprised that a vehicle should be about at that time, and went to the door with a light. But there were no signs of a carriage or any such vehicle. Then it dawned upon me that it must be the Bierley Boggard, as it was called, and I was very scared. I went to bed, but could not sleep. A few minutes afterwards I heard the noise again. But this time I was far too frightened to go to the door. I just lay still and sweated, whilst my hair stood on end.

“The Bierley Boggard,” he continued, was about for nearly thirty years. It was supposed to be the ghost of a Mrs Kaye, who kept a farm not far from my shop. When she died the place was taken by a Mr. Firth, who went to live there with his wife and sons. I remember his eldest son telling me of their experiences. The ghost was first heard by two courters late one night. They were near the farmhouse when they heard a weird noise like a hen fluttering to get on her perch. They were very scared and ran away.

“Then the Boggard began to trouble Mr Firth and his family. When the children, who were quite young at the time, went to bed they used to hear a sound like someone going up and down the stairs in a rustling silk dress. They were so frightened that their parents were obliged to put the beds in the kitchen downstairs. But soon the parents heard such strange noises that they too became alarmed, and put their own bed in the kitchen too, so that all the family was sleeping downstairs. This continued for a long time, and soon the whole neighbourhood got to know the fact, and the story was out. Prayer meetings were conducted at the house by the Rev. Benjamin Firth, of the Independent Chapel at Wyke, and largely attended by sceptics.”

A correspondent, “R.R.,” who says he is a not a spiritualist, writes: – “Reading of the manifestations at No. 6, Church Lane, Wyke, recalled to my mind an incident which occurred in Burley district a good number of years ago, of which my grandmother was an eye-witness. A gentleman farmer had an only son, who in secret courted a girl in humble circumstances. When it became known to her father, he was very angry, and although the son told him it would be very dishonourable not to allow him to get married, he would not hear of it, and shipped him off to Australia. The lad had been away about three years, and nothing had been heard of him.

“One night happenings identical with those at Wyke commenced at the father’s house, and went on for some time. Servants were brought in to ‘lay the ghost,’ but when pots and pans began to dance they rushed out in fear. The parson was fetched, but could find no solution. Eventually a relation who professed to be a medium was sent for, and he was of the opinion it was the spirit of their son who he felt sure had died. He, by various knockings known to themselves, got into communication with the spirit of the one who was causing the disturbance, and it was proved his theory was correct. The boy had been killed, and he desired all his effects to be given to the girl he had wished to marry, for the benefit of his child, which his father in the hardness of his heart, would do nothing for. This was done, and the disturbance ceased and never again occurred.”

Bradford Daily Telegraph, 9th June 1909.

Frenzied furniture.
The Wyke “Ghost” story investigated.
Witness who blames the trams.
Strange behaviour of chairs and hearthrugs.
(Special to “The Yorkshire Evening Post.”

The western sky was all aflame when I climbed the dusty steep that leads from Low Moor to Wyke. The amazing occurrences which were published in yesterday’s later editions of of the “Yorkshire Evening Post” have aroused the curiosity of the whole countryside, and long after hte night-cloud had lowered and the sentinel stars set their watch in the sky, hundreds of persons were gathered in groups near the house in Church street, where bewildering events are said to have been witnessed.

Wyke, which is “even as a city set upon a hill,” has no outward seeming of a place where supernatural agencies would, in ordinary human judgment, be likely to give an unsolicited show. It is built of most uncompromising stone, possesses a”Teetotal Hall,” a “Temperance Terrace,” and other architectural points of sober conduct and grave demeanour, which Wyke’s characteristics the furniture at No. 6, Church Street has been doing its best, or worst, to belie. Why chairs and cushion covers, hearth-rugs and parlour ceramics should take to scandalous levity without any apparent provocation, is a problem which the keenest intellects of Wyke are unable to solve.

In that little street abutting on the highway marvels have been seen the like of which have seldom been recorded in history, either sacred or profane. When a cushion-cover gets up and hurls itself remorselessly against the countenance of a highly-respected lady and a cane chair, against whose moral character and law-abiding qualities no accusation has ever previously been made, waltzes along the lobby into the garden, one need not be surprised to find that the minds of many are troubled. I saw that eccentric chair last night, and, considering its solidity and apparent respectability, I found it difficult to believe that so correct a piece of furniture could have misconducted itself. But Mrs. Smith, who is a neighbour of Mrs Priestley, in whose home these strange adventures happened, gravely corroborated the other witnesses of the unparalleled behaviour of the frenzied furniture. The gyrations of the bedroom chairs were preceded by a series of violent knockings on the wall, about one o’clock on Sunday morning.

Just before noon on Sunday Mrs Priestley, who is aged and infirm, summoned Mrs Smith’s assisance towards the restoration of law and order in the bedroom of No. 6. The task, according to Mrs Smith, was one of considerable difficulty. The chairs were indecorously posing with their feet in the air, and the other contents of the apartment were reduced to a state of general disorder. From the kitchen, as already stated, a chair merrily went out for a walk and was with difficulty persuaded to return to domestic service. However incredible these narratives may be, I respectively submit that no one is justified in scepticism unless he is ready with a theory which fits the fact alleged.

Mrs Smith, who testifies to most of the weird phenomena, is a sensible, matter-of-fact lady, with a sense of humour which ought to go a long way towards supporting her unimpeachable reputation for veracity. Mrs Smith’s story of what she saw and heard in the haunted house in Church Street is, granted the premises, a consistent story, a coherent narrative from a witness whose evidence remained unshaken in its essential elements under a cross-examination in which I took a reluctant hand.

But Mrs Smith is not left a lone to maintain the actuality of phenomena which have attracted widespread interest. There are others whose credibility is not less than that of Mrs Smith, who are prepared to solemnly affirm that they severally or collectively were eye-witnesses of the extraordinary lapses from the legitimate code of conduct to which an Englishman’s home has been subject for centuries, and personally interviewed nine of the eleven persons who were reported to have heard the fearsome noises in the early hours of Sunday last, or who were present when the strange manoeuvres of the fantastic furnishings were in progress. In four of the instances in which eye-witnesses of the distressing vagaries at No. 6, Church Street, Wyke, were concerned, they would consent to the publication of their names and addresses.

In the course of a long and varied experience in the inverstigation of occult occurrences I have never once come across an instance like this at Wyke. Delusion, acute mania, the modern passion for cheap publicity, and, occasionally, “natural causes,” have accounted for and disposed of “ghosts” that walked and statues that talked. But in this Wyke affair, I cannot discover that anyone of the deponents has even the smallest axe to grind. Mr. Gill, newsagent, of Wyke, assured me last night that he had known five of the witnesses in the affair for many years, and believed them to be utterly incapable of imagining anything remotely resembling the whirling waywardness which seems to have suddenly seized the domestic implements and cherished decorations of the house in Church Street.

Following the general trend of human inclination, where things seen give slender clue to the things unseen, there has rapidly grown up an abundant crop of stories concerning The Haunted House. Some of these yarns were too long, and others too thin, to be accepted by a case-hardened invesstigator like the present writer. But one story “leaped to the eye,” as an emotional Parisian would observe. It was told to me by a friend of the Priestley family, a man whose integrity has never been questioned. He states that he called at No. 6 yesterday at dinner time, with kindly intent, to offer consolation to the inhabitants for this desolating dislocation which has so un[m?]ly come upon them. He had only been in the bedroom (he said) about a minute and a half when the hearthrug – which is a work of art – rolled itself up before his very eyes, and then stood on end like a cylinder.
If this visitor says he saw this perplexing and altogether unprecedented performance by a hearthrug with lozenge shaped patches on it – and he says he saw it – are we, am I to contradict him? I trow not.

In the deplorable absence of any hypothesis which could be considered to have anything to do with the case, I humbly commend the theory of an aged cottager, whose venerable aspect, together with a big stick, commanded respect. His belief was that “helectricity from them gaumless trams” was at the bottom of all the trouble. I hinted that a hearth-rug had also been looked upon as a bad conductor of the electric current. That aged inhabitant thereupon severely admonished me that no conductor had anything to do with the disturbances. It was more than his place was worth to interfere.

Adopting an attitude of benevolent neutrality towards the belligerents, visible and undiscovered, in this Affaire de Wyke, I think there is something in the aged inhabitant’s belief about the “helectricity.”

Yorkshire Evening Post, 8th June 1909.

Despite the fact that we have successfully disposed of the awe-inspiring scare-ship, and that we have not as yet this season discovered any terrible sea-serpent hovering round the coast ready to devour unwary bathers, we are not deprived of blood-curdlers. According to a correspondent of the “Daily News,” there have been astoundingly weird manifestations of a ghostly nature at Wyke, a small township near Bradford; and what is more surprising still, there are a number of credible witnesses of the fantastic and unaccountable doings.

Among the extraordinary “supernatural” manifestations with which the disturbed spirit is credited are dancing furniture, wall-thumping, and the clanking and capering of cooking utensils. But unlike the majority of ghosts, this particularly robust spirit has even struck a lady occupant of the house on the face with an antimacassar, and hurled a brush with good aim at her daughter. A cane chair – evidently of a terpsichorean disposition – is said to have “waltzed down the passage into the back garden,” while it is quite common to see a lead weight “pirouette” about the room.

A crowd of about 200 watched the house from Sunday afternoon until midnight, but the ghost was evidently scared by the numbers, for nothing unusual occurred. The story savours largely of the practical joker – and there are a few in the county of broad acres.

Coventry Evening Telegraph, 8th June 1909.

Haunted furniture.
Amazing happenings at Wyke.
Chair that jumped on a bed.
Old lady assaulted by cushion cover.
(By our own reporter).

Mysterious happenings at a respectable detached house in Church-street have thrown the little industrial village of Wyke into a state of the most extraordinary excitement. All day yesterday hundreds of people gathered round the house, peering with eager but disappointed expectancy at the seemingly innocent looking edifice, inside which on Sunday and yesterday strange doings had been in progress. Chairs had turned themselves upside down, cushions had got out of their own chairs and placed themselves in other chairs, a cushion cover had thrice committed violent and unprovoked assaults upon an old lady, a chair had rushed out of the house door into the garden, a heavy lead figure used to keep a door open had “hopped” from its place in the passage into the sitting-room, a roll of carpet, getting tired of standing in a corner in the passage behind a chair, had taken a lonely stroll along the passage, and in a mischievous mood had laid itself in front of a bedroom door just in time to trip up a lady who was coming out of the room. On being put into its place again, it surreptitiously stepped out from behind the chair and was caught in the very act of laying itself down near the foot of the door again. A hat and coat, instead of remaining peaceably on the peg in teh kitchen where they were hung, flew at their owner’s head, and then laid themselves out smoothly and decorously on the floor. A woollen shawl got up and tied itself round the back of a chair, and the chair itself jumped on the bed and turned upside down.
All these things happened on Sunday and Monday, and, unlike most mysterious occurrences of this sort, they did not confine their escapades to the hours of darkness, but performed many of their marvels in broad daylight and with such a large number of more or less alarmed spectators looking on.

The display of spookist eccentricity began in the early hours of Sunday morning, when Mrs Priestley, who lives in a well-built commodious detached house, No. 6, Church-street, and her neighbours Mr. and Mrs. Smith were roused about one o’clock by a series of violent thuds on the inner wall of Mrs Priestley’s house.

Mrs Priestley is a delicate, pleasant-faced widow lady of 82, and she lives with her two daughters, one of whom is a cripple and the other is suject to periodic attacks of ill-health, at No. 6, Church-street. The house is their own property, and has been occupied by them for the past eight years without anything occurring to suggest that there was any uncanny influence about the place.

The house itself has six or seven rooms, but it is only with two of these that the present phenomena appear to be connected. In front is a small garden, and behind is a much larger one, while beyond the back garden is open country. It is with the two rooms on the ground floor and the adjacent passage that the impish revels that have excited the village are concerned. The front room is used as a kitchen and general living room, while the back room, which ordinarily would be used as a sitting room has been converted into a spacious and pleasant-looking bedroom for Mrs Priestley, whose age and infirmity make it difficult for her to go up and down stairs.

After the preliminary thumping, nothing further happened until nearly eleven o’clock on Sunday morning, when the knocking began again, and Mrs. Smith went in to see what was the matter.

In a special interview with a “Mercury” representative, Mrs Smith stated that she had just left Mrs Priestley, when that lady called her back, and on going into the house she found the whole of the chairs in the bedroom upside down, and everything disarranged. The two ladies and Mrs Priestley’s daughters put things straight, and went back into the kitchen, but in less than five minutes everything was upside down again.

While they were doing so a chair in the kitchen turned itself upside down, and Mrs Priestley, getting alarmed, cried out, “Surely it’s not getting into the house.” No sooner had they gone into the kitchen to see what was happening than the furniture in the bedroom again upset itself. By this time Mrs Priestley was feeling thoroughly exhausted, and she sat in a rocking chair beside the bed while Mrs Smith put things straight. Suddenly a large, hand-worked cushion cover, that was resting on a cushion on the sofa three or four feet away, flew straight at Mrs Priestley, and struck her in the face. She cried out, and Mrs Smith seized the cover and put it back in its place. Hardly had she taken her hands off it again, however, than once more it flew at Mrs Priestley, and again struck her in the face. Once more Mrs Smith put it back, but once more the violent assault took place.

“He was the liveliest of the lot,” she said to our representative, alluding to the chair, “and to keep him quiet I thought I would sit on him. One of the girls said it was electricity, and might give me a shock, but he was such a lively one that I thought I would keep him quiet. A few minutes later we heard a noise in the other room, and rushed in to find everything upset again, and, in addition, a little bust of Lord Byron that had been on the mantel-shelf was standing on the floor. We had only just got into the room when Ada (Mrs Priestley’s daughter) cried, ‘Your chair’s running down the garden!’ I rushed back and saw the chair fall over at the foot of the steps leading from the house into the garden.”

Continuing her interesting narrative, Mrs Smith told how a roll of carpet, standing in a corner of the hall, had got from behind a chair without moving the chair, and had placed itself, still rolled up, in front of the door, tripping up Miss Dutton, a grand-daughter of Mrs Priestley, who had called at the house. The carpet was put in its place again, but once more got out of the corner and laid itself down three or four yards away.

Mr. Smith, a strong, burly man of the finest type of Yorkshireman, and eminently a man of practical common sense, was also a witness of the antics of the carpet, and told our representative that he actually caught it in the act of laying itself down on the second occasion.

Mr James Jones, joiner and undertaker, another man of shrewd common sense, was also an eye-witness of many of the strange happenings, and he and others saw an ordinary walnut drawing-room chair jumping off its feet on to the bed and turn upside down.

Mrs Priestley, who is extremely puzzled but by no means alarmed or excited over these startling events, also chatted freely with our representative, and corroborated all these statements. She added also that while she was lying in bed on Monday morning, after having had a cup of tea about ten o’clock, the disorders began again, and an antimacassar flew across the room and dropped on to the foot of her bed. Among other amazing things was the conduct of a leaden model of a man used to keep the passage door open, and weighing at least 14lb. Twice this “hoppped” out of the passage into the room, and finally threw itself down so violently that it bent intself, and could no longer be made to stand.

A hat and cloak belonging to Miss Dutton flew off a peg in the kitchen, and after striking Miss Priestley on the head, laid themselves neatly out on the floor. This suggested to some of those present that Miss Dutton was to go home, as something might have happened to her father and mother, who have been travelling in Switzerland, and are expected home to-day.

While chatting with Mrs Priestley and her neighbours, our representative met the Rev. A.J. Howell, the Vicar of Wyke, who, though the Priestleys are Wesleyans, had called to see whether he could be of any service or consolation under the very alarming circumstances. On Sunday evening and again on Monday the Vicar had called, but though he waited for a considerable time and sat in the room where most of the disturbances had occurred, nothing happened while he was on the premises.

“I am sorry nothing happened,” he said to our representative, “because I should much have liked to have seen the events for myself.” He frankly confessed himself puzzled, but refused to adopt the unscientific and unphilosophical attitude of denying the possibility of these things. Had it only been a few women who had seen them and become a little hysterical one might have doubted it,” he said,” but then men like Mr Smith, Mr Jones and Mr Brayshaw, the butcher, all saw these things, and they are all shrewd, sensible men who are not likely to be deceived, and whom one must believe.

In the present of Police-Constable Parish also the spooks refused to display their powers and there the matter remains for the present. Meanwhile, hundreds of people from all the surrounding district are congregating round the house much to the annoyance and disgust of Mrs Priestley and her family, who, much against their will, have had unpleasant notoriety thrust upon them in this way.

Leeds Mercury, 8th June 1909.

The Wyke “spooks.”

“Argus” reporter stays in the house, but is not rewarded.

A spiritualist interviewed.

In the hopes that he would be favoured with a manifestation of the extraordinary powers which are claimed for the furniture of No. 6, Church Street, wyke, the home of a Mrs Priestley, an Argus reporter spent a considerable time in the house last night. His patience was, however, not rewarded, no strange happenings took place, and the most extraordinary feature of the case was the abnormal impudence of certain members of the public, who used every endeavour to obtain a glimpse of the interior of the house.

The residents of No. 6, Church Street, are in no wise perturbed by the inexplicable occurrences of the past few days. They take matters very calmly, and indeed the younger end of the family are inclined to display a levity which one scarcely expects in the midst of such a turmoil. Mrs Priestley, the almost octogenarian tenant, who has been in indifferent health for some months past has not been unduly upset by the strain. Her sleep has certainly been interfered with, but the excitement of the events probably account for this.

It is a curious fact that the Vicar of Wyke, who has called upon the family at present afflicted, is acquainted with a vicar whose residence in Wales was the centre of an extraordinary disturbance. The bells of his house repeatedly rang without reason. A new domestic was asked why she had left her previous situation, and she replied that it was owing to the peculiar behaviour of the bells on that occasion.

It is perhaps a clue to the solution of the mystery that a field in the vicinity of the troubled homestead has fallen a couple of feet below the original ground level. This district is literally honeycombed with mines, although it is said that no collieries have been struck in this particular direction for years. Nevertheless, the fact that old workings do exist in the locality of these occult or physical disturbances is undeniable.

Knowing that the occurrences have been the cause of considerable interest in Spiritualistic circles our reporter called on Mr and Mrs Burchell, who are well known as leading lights in the Spiritualist cult of Bradford. He asked them to given their opinion of the Wyke occurrences, and was lucky enough to find that they had only just returned from the scene of the phenomena. For Mrs Burchell, by the way, it is claimed by Spiritualists that she foresaw the Servian assassination horrors at Belgrade, and Mr W. T. Stead published her version of her pre-vision.

Mrs Burchell said that although they had called upon Mrs Priestley and explained their mission they had not been able to see the old lady, being informed that she was indisposed. Their theory was that the manifestations were due to a spirit or spirits of some departed person, who had just discovered that “it” was not dead but living [sic]. The spirit maintained an affection for its old surroundings, and wished to establish communication, with the present inmates. Although unable to do so by the usual means, the departed ones were able to cause the commotion among the furniture which has proved so engrossing to the Bradford public during the last few days.

Mrs Burchell said that could a suitable medium be obtained to interpret the feelings of the spirits they would thus establish a communication, and so reveal the cause of the disturbances for the enlightenment of the world and the good of science. The medium said that she wished for a seance at the house, and was confident that she would be able to come into contact with the denizens of the other world. Mrs Burchell also informed our representative that when she was in the house she saw two shades who, ere they forsook their mortal clay, were known as “Elizabeth” and “William,” and who were familiarly called Bill and Betsy. These were, she opined, one-time residents in the house. She mentioned the fact to Mr Smith, an elderly relative of the Priestley family, and he observed to her that she was a wonderful guesser.

Mr Burchell suggested that the Press representative and herself and husband should hold a seance at the house and see what was forthcoming in the interests of the world and science.

The occupants of No. 6 have been subjected to great annoyance from the crowds of children and young people who have assembled outside the house, and they are becoming a trifle tired of the notoriety the affair has drawn upon them.

Bradford Daily Argus, 9th June 1909.

Ghost laid.

Peace at Wyke. Theories grave and gay.

Wyke has laid its “ghost.” For two whole days nothing extraordinary has occurred at No. 6 Church Street. Furniture stays where it is put, bars of soap no longer fall from the bathroom with sickening thuds (or thickening suds, as a local wit has it), antimacassars fly not. Mrs Priestley and the household breathe more freely. Nothing tragic has happened of which the visitation might have been a warning. Many theories, grave and gay, have been put forward, in addition to those advanced in yesterday’s “Telegraph.” A contemporary suggests that “the manifestations were due to the spirit or spirits of some departed persons who had just discovered that ‘it’ was not dead, but living.” We leave the solution of this puzzle to Spiritualists and others. Perhaps that kind of thing often happens in the occult world. Meanwhile there is a rumour that one of Mrs Priestley’s ancestors was a furniture remover, but we understand that the rumour lacks foundation. The real cause is probably that the house also lacks foundation.

Bradford Daily Telegraph, 10th June 1909.

More Wyke Wonders
Weird procession at midnight in the haunted house
A veteran’s testimony

A few more strange things have happened at the haunted house in Church-street, Wyke, where Mrs Priestley and two daughters live, and yesterday evening the occupants, assisted by relatives and frineds, gave the house a thorough clean in the hope of clearing out all the undesirable invisible sojourners.
Mr Butler, of Dudleyhill, who is about eighty years of age, and had personal experience of the Bierley boggard sixty years ago, went to stay in the house on Monday night.
about one o’clock yesterday morning the inhabitants were awakened by a bang at the bedroom door, and Mr Butler was not slow to avail himself of this promise of an adventure. Taking a lamp he walked along the passage and found two pieces of soap at the bottom of the steps. He took them to the bathroom but they returned. He persevered in taking them back, but they came downstairs four times, and on taking them back the fourth time he found the towel rail had advanced to the top of the steps.
In order to prevent this being damaged he carried it down and waited quietly for some time.
Presently the peggy-tub came clattering down, and shortly after a towel followed. The sponge also made its appearance, and the hair brush concluded the procession.
About 9 o’clock on Monday morning the cushion cover came from the sofa on to Mrs Priestley’s bed three times in succession, spreading itself out smoothly each time.
With a view to the instantaneous destruction of the unseen agent the cushion cover was promptly washed.
Leeds Mercury, 11th June 1909.

[…] there is no joke about the ghost of Wyke. He makes things hum with a vengeance. Fancy striking Mrs Priestly in the face with an antimacassar. There was nothing “priestly” about that. Now, if I were a real 22-carat ghost and had a grievance against Mrs Priestly, No. 5, Church-street, Wyke, near Bradford, Yorkshire, England, I should certainly hit her with something harder than a soft antimacassar – say a brick or a home-made pigeon pie. Even a poker or a silk hat would do more damage than an antimacassar. I wish that ghost would make a hope, skip, and a jump to Abergele. We are in sore need of a tonic.

Will Mrs Priestly send that ghost / To Abergele by first post? / We’re getting rather glum; / We’ll treat him handsomely, you bet; / We’ll make him mayor – fine or wet, / And make him drunk on rum.

North Wales Weekly News, 11th June 1909.

Goblin revels.

Bewitched house at Wyke.

Uncanny experiences.

Bierley Boggard recalled.

Occurrences which, to say the least, are extremely uncanny, have been taking place at the house of Mrs Priestley, 6, Church-Street, Wyke, Bradford. These phenomena are not confined to midnight and obscurity, but take place repeatedly in broad daylight, and in the presence of various people. On Saturday night the occupants of No. 6 were startled by loud knockings on the wall, as though with a hammer. These knockings were also heard next door by Mrs John Smith, although the houses are separated by an entry. On Sunday morning the knocking was continued, and about dinner time, on going into the front room, Mrs Priestley found everything in disorder.

With the assistance of Mrs Smith she put the things straight, and they went out of the room, but on going back again immediately afterwards they found the things again in confusion. A chair and small table had been lifted on to the bed, ornaments had been thrown off the mantelpiece, but not broken, a pillow was moved from the top to the bottom of the bed, etc. They then straightened the things, but the performance was repeated time after time, and whilst Mrs Priestley was sitting in a chair, and Mrs Smith was the only other occupant of the room, a cover came off the sofa and hit the former lady in the face. Mrs Smith put it back, but the same thing happened again. After it had been repeated a third time the women left the room in alarm. The disturbances then commenced in the kitchen on similar lines, and in the passage.

A cane chair, which had been particularly lively, was taken out of the room and placed in the passage, when it almost immediately flew out of the back door into the garden. An antimacassar was tied neatly round the back of a chair, and a heavy leaden door holder performed a dance before the astonished eyes of Mrs Priestley. Amongst people who have witnessed some of the movements are Mrs Priestley, two of her daughters, and her grand-daughter; Mr James Jones, undertaker, Wyke, and his wife and daughter; Miss Harpen, Buttershaw; Mr and Mrs John Smith, 3, Church Street; and Mr John Brayshaw, butcher, New Road Side, Wyke.

A crowd of about two hundred people assembled in the street on Sunday afternoon amid great excitement, and watched the house until about an hour after midnight in the hope of seeing something unusual, but things seemed to quieten down during the evening. On Monday morning, however, whilst Mrs Priestley was in the room one of the chairs again had a “seizure” and she saw it come out of its place in the corner, clatter noisily around the open door, and stop in the centre of the room. A small brush also struck Miss Priestley on the shoulder.

It may be mentioned that the Priestleys are Wesleyans, and do not believe in spiritualism. Mrs Priestley is a native of Dudley Hill, but has lived in Wyke more than forty years. Nothing of the kind has ever happened in the house or in the experience of the occupants before.

It was about one o’clock on Tuesday morning when a knock sounded at the front door. Mrs Priestley asked him if he had heard the noise, for he is somewhat deaf. He answered that he had. Getting up he went to the front door and discovered to his amazement that a leaden model used for keeping the door open had walked down the passage some yards. They were just returning back when, looking on the floor, they found a piece of soap. Mrs Priestley at once recognised it as a piece that had been kept in the bathroom, whither it was decorously taken back. Four times did it repeat the performance of coming downstairs, and four times was it replaced. Nor did it come alone, for other two bars accompanied it on one of its trips. Whence they came Mrs Priestley was unable to explain, for they had not been placed in the bathroom by her or any other member of the household. Then one by one came down the flannel, the towel, and the lading-can, the latter making a fearful clatter.

It was evident by this time that the bathroom was bewitched. On proceeding upstairs it was discovered that the towel-rail had gone on a roving expedition by itself. When Mr Baker arrived it was on the point of toppling over the top of the stairs, and he was just in time to save it from committing suicide. All these things happened between one and two in the morning, and can be vouched for by various eye witnesses. It may be mentioned that those present in the house at the time made a thorough search without discovering anything extraordinary.

The leaden model which had walked down the passage is an antique article representing a woodman with his dog, and inscribed with the motto, “Woodman, spare that tree.” It weighs probably 14 lbs., and looks about as unwieldy as possible. On going into the bedroom, which was the first centre of disorder, our representative sat down, naturally enough upon an innocent-looking chair. He was at once informed, in somewhat startled tones, that that was the article of furniture which had made a name for itself by jumping on to the bed. He rose at once. A close examination, however, failed to reveal any evidence that the chair had been tampered with by practical jokers or others, and the same may be said with regard to the other articles which have become possessed from time to time.

On inquiring on Wednesday morning it was learned that although friends had remained in the house till the early hours in the anticipation of finding themselves the centre of a bedlam of dancing chairs, savage antimacassars, or roving bars of soap, nothing unusual had occurred for 36 hours. The inhabitants of the village had ceased to doubt that these things actually happen, for they argue, “Have they not been seen by witnesses whom we know?” Naturally, however, they are loth to attribute the pranks to supernatural agency until every other theory has been exhausted. Some still hold that the whole affair was a practical joke. But anyone who has visited the house will realise that if this were the case the joker is a person of such skill and ingenuity that he would hardly be off the stage, where he could make a handsome living. The rooms in which the occurrences took place are so small that it would be almost impossible for anyone to be concealed in them, and every nook and cranny has been searched again and again. Moreover, the articles which became so strangely animated show no signs of tampering and are normal in every respect.

A much more logical, though hardly a romantic theory, is that the phenomena are caused by subsidence. The whole of Wyke is undermined owing to the many excavations that have taken place in the district for coal and iron. It is suggested that the trains or the heavy machinery at the iron works have so shaken the honeycombed ground that the furniture at No. 6, Church Street, has been moved from its place. Imagination, they argue, will do the rest. But it is hard to explain why only No. 6 should be troubled, why it should be troubled only at certain times, and why it should not have been troubled before.

Meanwhile, the hero of the hour at Wyke is Mr Seth Hy. Butler, of Dudley Hill, Mrs Priestley’s brother-in-law, who bravely faced the music on Monday night. He is an old man approaching his eightieth year, a retired butcher, with a butcher’s nerves. On Wednesday our reporter found him getting ready to attend his niece’s wedding, but on being asked he readily consented to tell how he spoke to the Whatever-It-Was and funked it not. He was summoned by post to Mrs Priestley’s home in her period of trouble, and, after the family had gone to bed on Monday night at twelve o’clock, he sat up reading and smoking in the kitchen with all the lights full on, and a lamp ready at his side. About one o’clock things began to happen. For a time he busied himself in trotting upstairs with the erring bars of soap, the towels, and the flannels, only to find that they came shuttering down again.

At last he went to the bottom of the stairs and called out, “Is there anything else to come down? I’ve had enough of this; I’m tired. If you have anything to say, say it now, because I’m ready to hear you.” But the Whatever-It-Was answered him never a word.

Although confessing himself a decided sceptic as to things supernatural this is not the first time Mr Butler has touched on the fringe of the uncanny. As a matter of fact, he remembers the well-known Bierley Boggard. This is the story he told our reporter: – “Of course, it’s going back a long time now. It’s 58 years ago. I was a young man of 21 years then, and had a butcher’s shop at East Bierley. In those days there were no policemen, you must understand, so I had to stay at the shop all night and watch it. It was a warm night in June, and two dogs were with me, one inside the shop and one outside in the yard. Between twelve and one o’clock in the morning I was just getting my bed ready and was still dressed, when I heard carriage wheels rattle in the yard. The dogs heard it too, and began to bark loudly. I was very surprised that a vehicle should be about at that time, and went to the door with a light. But there were no signs of a carriage or any such vehicle. Then it dawned upon me that it must be the Bierley Boggard, as it was called, and I was very scared. I went to bed, but could not sleep. A few minutes afterwards I heard the noise again. But this time I was far too frightened to go to the door. I just lay still and sweated, whilst my hair stood on end.”

“The Bierley Boggard,” he continued, “was about for nearly thirty years. It was supposed to be the ghost of a Mrs Kaye, who kept a farm not far from my shop. When she died the place was taken by a Mr Firth, who went to live there with his wife and sons. I remember his eldest son telling me of their experiences. The ghost was first heard by two courters late one night. They were near the farmhouse when they heard a weird noise like a hen fluttering to get on her perch. They were very scared and ran away. Then the Boggard began to trouble Mr Firth and his family. When the children, who were quite young at the time, went to bed they used to hear a sound like someone going up and down the stairs in a rustling silk dress. They were so frightened that their parents were obliged to put the beds in the kitchen downstairs. But soon the parents heard such strange noises that they too became alarmed, and put their own bed in the kitchen too, so that all the family was sleeping downstairs. This continued for a long time, and soon the whole neighbourhood got to know the fact, and the story was out. Prayer meetings were conducted at the house by the Rev. Benjamin Firth, of the Independent Chapel at Wyke, and largely attended by sceptics.”

A correspondent, “R.R.,” who says he is not a spiritualist, writes: – “Reading of the manifestations at No. 6 Church Lane, Wyke, recalled to my mind an incident which occurred in Burley district a good number of years ago, of which my grandmother was an eye-witness. A gentleman farmer had an only son, who in secret courted a girl in humble circumstances. When it became known to the father, he was very angry, and although the son told hi it would be very dishonourable not to allow him to get married, he would not hear of it, and shipped him off to Australia. The lad had been away about three years, and nothing had been heard of him. One night happenings identical with those at Wyke commenced at the father’s house, and went on for some time. Servants were brought in to ‘lay the ghost,’ but when pots and pans began to dance they rushed out in fear. The parson was fetched, but could find no solution. Eventually a relation who professed to be a medium was sent for, and he was of the opinion it was the spirit of their son, who he felt sure had died. He, by various knockings known to themselves, got into communication with the spirit of the one which was causing the disturbance, and it was proved the theory was correct. The boy had been killed, and he desired all his effects to be given to the girl he had wished to marry, for the benefit of his child, which his father in the hardness of his heart, would do nothing for. This was done, and the disturbances ceased and never again occurred.”

Shipley Times and Express, 11th June 1909.

Lively spooks.

Dancing furniture and clanking crocks.

Haunted chapel.

After quite a long rest the spooks are at it again. This time the weird visitants have turned up near Bradford, at a village called Wyke, where the prize band comes from. The spooks have been particularly lively. They take not only the familiar form of knocking, but the unquiet spirits cause furniture to dance before the mistress of the house, and even strike her across the face with an antimacassar.

These alarming incidents are taking place in a house in Church-street, occupied by a Mrs Priestley and her two daughters, and have been going on continuously by day and night since Saturday. The first evidence of the uncanny was a thumping on the wall on Saturday night. On Sunday Mrs Priestley found the furniture and other articles in the front room strewn about in disorder. Calling in Mrs Smith, the two replaced the furniture in its proper position, and left the room, returning immediately, as they heard it moving. The room was again in disorder.

After putting things straight, the two ladies bravely sat down, and, while waiting, the “ghost” struck Mrs Priestley in the face with an antimacassar. Simultaneously the cooking utensils in the kitchen began to clank and caper about the shelves. Then a cane chair, after dancing about the room, waltzed down the passage into the back garden, and collapsed.

A lead weight used to keep the door open also pirouetted round Mrs Priestley. Then the spirit hurled with good aim a brush at Miss Priestley, while another chair danced around Mrs Priestley in the kitchen. There are nine eye-witnesses.

Midland Counties Tribune, 11th June 1909.

Walking Chairs.

Alleged remarkable phenomenon of animated furniture.

The phenomenon of animated chairs is reported from the Bradford district, at the house of Mrs Priestley, who lives at 6, Church Street, Wyke. A series of loud knockings first startled the inhabitants on Saturday night, and the noises were also heard in the next house, which is separated from No. 6 by a passage. On Sunday morning Mrs Priestley is reported to have heard the knockings again, and on going into the front room, she found everything in disorder. With the assistance of her neighbour she put the things straight, and they went out of the room, but on going back again immediately afterwards, they found the things again in confusion.

A chair and small table had been lifted on to the bed, ornaments had been thrown off the mantelpiece, but not broken, and a pillow was removed from the top to the bottom of the bed. They again straightened the things, but the performance was repeated time after time, and whilst Mrs Priestley was sitting in a chair, and Mrs Smith, her friend, was the only other occupant of the room, a cover came off the sofa and hit the former lady in the face. Mrs Smith put it back, but the same thing happened again. After it had been repeated a third time the women left the room in alarm.

The disturbance then commenced in the kitchen and in the passage. A cane chair was taken out of the room and placed in the passage, when it almost immediately flew out of the back door into the garden.

An antimacassar was tied neatly round the back of a chair, and a heavy leaden door holder is said to have commenced dancing before the astonished eyes of Mrs Priestley.

A crowd of about two hundred people assembled in the street on Sunday and watched the house until about an hour after midnight in the hope of seeing something unusual, but things seemed to quieten down during the evening.

On Monday morning, however, whilst Mrs Priestley was in the room one of the chairs began to move, and she saw it come out of its place in the corner, clatter noisily round the open door, and stop in the centre of the room. A small brush also struck Miss [sic] Priestley on the shoulder.

Leigh Chronicle and Weekly District Advertiser, 11th June 1909.

Strange phenomena have been witnessed at a house at Wyke, occupied by the Priestley family. Chairs and other articles of furniture have moved in a violent manner without any apparent cause. (“Mercury” photograph).

Leeds Mercury 9th June 1909

Daylight Ghost.

Sets Pots and Pans Waltzing and Throws a Hair Brush.

Odd Manifestations.

Wyke, a small township outside Bradford, is just now in a state of wild excitement over tales of supernatural manifestations. They take not only the familiar form of knocking, but cause the furniture to dance before the mistress of the house, and even strike her across the face with an antimacassar.

These alarming incidents are taking place in a house in Church-street, occupied by a Mrs. Priestley and her two daughters, all of whom are unnerved by reason of the weird happenings. They have been taking place by day and night, says the “Daily News.” Unlike the majority of ghosts, this particularly robust spirit has no desire to cloak its performances under the cover of darkness, but carries on in daylight and in the presence of independent witnesses.

One day Mrs. Priestley found the furniture and other articles in the front room strewn about in disorder. Calling in Mrs. Smith, the two replaced the furniture in its proper position and left the room, returning immediately as they heard it moving. The room was again in disorder. After putting things straight the two ladies bravely sat down, and while writing, the “ghost” struck Mrs. Priestley in the face with an antimacassar. Simultaneously the cooking utensils in the kitchen began to clank and caper about the shelves.

Then a cane chair, after dancing about the room, walked down the passage into the back garden, where it lost its supernatural power and fell back in a minute on the ground. A lead weight used to keep the door open also pirouetted around Mrs. Priestley and Mrs. Smith, but this offence against the law of gravity caused the two ladies to retire in alarm.

Not content with the outrage on Mrs. Priestley, the spirit hurled with a good aim a brush at Miss Priestley, while another chair had a seizure, and danced around Mrs. Priestley in the kitchen.

Mrs. Priestley has lived in the district for forty years, and is said to be a sceptic regarding unearthly manifestations. No one is able to account for them, but they have been witnessed by a number of people. Among them are: – Mrs. Priestley, two of her daughters, her granddaughter; Mr. Joseph Jones, undertaker, of Wyke, his wife, and daughter; Miss Harper Butlershaw; Mr. and Mrs. John Smith, Church-street; and Mr. John Brayshaw Butcher, New Road Side, Wyke.

Lloyd’s Weekly Newspaper, 13th June 1909.

The Wyke Mysteries

A lull in the entertainment.

A Wyke gentleman, with intimate knowledge of most that has occurred at the local residence where furniture, etc., has moved, without any apparent cause, ridicules the suggestion that somebody has put forward, that compressed air from a crack in the earth may account for it all. He informs us that doors and windows have been closed, and the instant almost that the noise has been heard the door has been opened, and the whole bedroom, where moments before all was in order, has been found in chaos, all sorts of things having been shifted in increditable time.

We asked if it was possible any joker could be concealed in or about the room, and the answer was given that this was impossible, for the door had been opened so quickly that nobody could have had time to get out of sight: moreover, search had never disclosed anyone, or the sign of a visitor. Several tests had been made for the mysterious happenings, but never with the slightest result in the way of clue.

Except on the occasion referred to in our article of last week, when it was alleged a towel-rail had been caught in the act of advancing (apparently on its own initiative!) towards the head of the stairs, nobody has had the luck to see the things going, and only once has anybody been in the room when something has moved. That was when an antimacassar hit Mrs Priestley on the side of the face. She could not account for this article flying so, and in answer to a question to-day, we were told it must have travelled four foot before it struck the lady.

We are in a position to state that nothing in the house has shown any tendency to roam since this night week, immediately following which the press shed light on the doings. Thus it would appear ghosts fear publicity.

Halifax Evening Courier, 14th June 1909.

To Mrs Priestley, 6, Church Street, Wyke, near Bradford.

My Dear Madame, – With unfeigned sorrow, I learn that the spooks have been creating a series of discreditable disturbances in your happy, peaceful home – disturbances all the more disgraceful because you are an aged and infirm lady who has lived in the township for forty years. I cannot blame you for calling in your next-door neighbour, Mrs Smith, to come and put the things straight. But, undoubtedly, the better plan would have been for you to have thrown up the window and called a policeman. I am persuaded that if you had taken this course, the spooks would have disappeared post haste. As it was, you and Mrs Smith had no sooner “got things to rights a bit” in the front room and closed the door behind you, than the spooks got at it again; for on returning you discovered that they had thrown a chair and a small table upon the bed, cast the mantelpiece ornaments upon the floor, moved a pillow from the head to the foot of the bed, “etc.,” as the descriptive reporter comprehensively puts it. Neither yourself nor Mrs Smith – bless her dear heart! – tells us whether or not the spooks hung the piano on the hat-rack and placed the fireirons in the umbrella stand.

You and Mrs Smith commenced to tidy up once more, but with so little permanent effect that the goods again started jumping around. It surprised me not at all that by this time you felt dead tired. I can even imagine your saying to yourself, my dear madame, “Oh, botheration, let ’em jump! I’m going to sit down.” Sit down you did, at any rate. To their eternal shame be it said that the spooks selected this solemn moment of rest to commit upon you an outrageous assault, in the presence of Mrs Smith. Stretching forth their invisible hands, they grasped a sofa-cover, and hit you with it across the face. This was too much for you, and with Mrs Smith you fled the room in alarm, only to find other spooks throwing things about in the kitchen, while in the passage a cane-bottomed chair, more bedevilled than the far-famed pigs of Gadara, flew out of the back door into the garden. If it happens to have taken root, and is by this time metamorphosed as a choice clump of champagne rhubarb, please reserve me one piece as a memento of the event. I should cherish it as a walking-stick. Then, when a friend entered your house to offer his sympathy, he saw the front-room hearthrug “slowly roll itself up before his very eyes.”

I am not only overwhelmed by this corroborative testimony, but transfixed with wonder at the limitless possibilities of the human eye. JOHN BULL.

John Bull, 19th June 1909.

Maps suggest this area was redeveloped and is now ‘Westcombe Court’.

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