An East Lothian Mansion.
Strange happening in late Professor Holbourn’s house.
The folllowing article, along with a photograph of the mansion-house referred to, appeared in a recent issue of the “Weekly Scotsman.” The “Ghost” in the house was the subject of a report issued a fortnight ago by the Edinburgh Psychic College.
A 16th-century ghost which appears to take advantage of the 20th-century amenities of a Scottish mansion is engaging the attention of the Society for Recording Abnormal Happenings. The mansion is Penkaet Castle, Pencaitland, near Haddington, and one of the “abnormal happenings” recorded was the mysterious filling of a bath, the appearance of a strange piece of soap, and the equally strange disappearance of the maid’s bath-towel. That is one of a series of unexplained – and so far inexplicable – incidents recorded in a report issued by the Society. Formerly known as Fountainhall House, the residence has a “ghostly” reputation which dates back to very early days when John Cockburn, a former owner, killed John Seton, who was probably connected with him by marriage. Some of the weird occurrences have taken place in a room in which there is a bed once used by Charles II.
Practically the whole of the report, issued under the auspices of Edinburgh Psychic College, is devoted to evidence taken after public attention had been attracted to the house by an incident which occurred in July 1946, during a visit by about 100 members of the East Lothian Antiquarian and Field Naturalists’ Society. A glass globe in the upper gallery of the library disintegrated from no apparent cause. The mansion-house was acquired by the late Professor Holbourn about 25 years ago. There is a record by Sir Andrew Dick Lauder, a former owner, that when a child of nine, he was terrified by seeing what he took to be a ghost standing in front of the fireplace in one of the upper rooms.
Mrs Holbourn, the present owner of the house, states that from time to time, since she and her family first occupied the house in 1923, they were often disturbed by the sound of heavy footsteps going through the house, and the sound of something heavy and soft being dragged along. “Various people who occupied the house when we were away,” she states, “complained of hearing shrieks and groans and that doors which were shut and even locked at night were found open in the morning. As time went on the sounds became trivial and even playful. Sometimes when there was a light continuous tapping or rattling my husband would call out, ‘Now, John, that’s childish. Stop it,’ and the sound invariably ceased at once. We called him the ‘perfect gentleman.’ On Christmas Eve 1923 we had been singing carols in the music room and were gathered round the fire when a piece of oak on which the family crest was carved leant forward from the wall, paused a moment, and returned to position. We took this as a greeting to the new inhabitants.”
The bath incident occurred in 1935 when Mrs Holbourne’s son was occupying the house. He was sitting in the dining-room one night when the maid asked if he was having a bath as someone was running the bath water. He said “No” but would go and see if it was the nurse. The nurse had, however, been in bed for over an hour. He then went to the bathroom and found it full of steam and there was a strange piece of soap in the bath. Next morning the maid complained that her bath-towel had disappeared from her room.
Much of the evidence assembled in the report comes from members of a party of students from Edinburgh College of Art who spent a weekend in the house for the purpose of rehearsing a play. Accommodation had been arranged for the visitors, and, during the night, all except one were disturbed by the most appalling noise. Each thought that one of the party was playing a practical joke on the other members, but all experienced the same effects.
Two of the party slept in the room which contains King Charles’s bed. They saw a “most ghastly stain” appear on the wall, but when they looked for it in the morning nothing could be seen.
In spite of all the strange happenings, the present owner of Penkaet Castle is sceptical about the “ghost” story. In her statement to the Edinburgh Psychic College, Mrs Holbourn says: – “I would like to make it clear that although we regard ‘John’ as an amusing, legendary figure we, none of us, seriously believe in the existence of our ghost. I think there must be some material explanation.”
Shetland News, 8th May 1947.