The Truth About Ghosts.
To the editor of “The Daily Telegraph.”
Sir, – I can confirm the story of “the Drummer boy.” The following facts were related to me, not long after their occurrence, by a lady connected with one of the oldest titled families in Scotland, and who was on intimate terms with many of my own family, and nearly in the following words:
“Early in the spring of 1845 I went on a visit to Lord and Lady Airlie. Arriving late I had to dress rather hurriedly for dinner; while doing so I heard what appeared to me a band of music at a distance. On naming this casually to the gentleman who sat next to me at dinner, he said in a whisper, ‘Say nothing now, it was the drummer boy you heard; I will explain by-and-bye.’
During the course of the evening, he told me the legend, of which I was then ignorant, namely, that before the death of a member of the Airlie family a drum was always heard to beat in one of the corridors of the castle. Lord Airlie was then in delicate health, hence the anxiety of my neighbour to prevent further remarks on my part, in case they might reach the ears of his lordship, near whom I sat.”
I have only to add that Lord Airlie recovered and lived for, I think, four years after this time, but poor Lady Airlie, who was then quite well, died very suddenly at Brighton a short time afterwards – in June, I believe.
I am, Sir, your most obedient servant, F.H. GROVE. Dumpton, Kent, Oct. 6, 1881.
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A correspondent of the Birmingham Daily Post gives the story of a lady of the highest character, who affirms that she heard the music on the occasion of the last Lord Airlie’s death. Miss S. was one of his lordship’s guests at the castle at the time in question .He had had an attack of gout, but it was considered slight, though Lady Airlie had excused herself to her guests for remaining in attendance on her noble husband .Miss S had been wandering in the woods, and was walking slowly towards the castle, when she was suddenly startled by the sound of music, which, seeming now distant, now close at hand, induced her to believe that some village ceremony was going forward in th eneighbourhood. With this impression she followed the sound to right, to left, backwards, forwards, until the plaintive wail, so indicative or mourning and despair, by which the bagpipes announce the death of a Highland chief, became as distinct as possible.
From that moment the music, which had varied in its position, remained playing steadily before her, while now grown nervous and excited, she hurried towards the castle, and as she crossed the lawn in front of the building she was completely overcome by the certainty that the music was still floating around her, although no single individual was to be seen through the whole of the wide landscape open before her gaze. The harmony accompanied her as far as the chapel door, by which she had to pass to gain the steps of the hall. At that place it ceased altogether, and Miss S., who is neither weak-minded nor superstitious, recovering from the awe she had experienced at the phenomenon, paused to listen attentively, but no further sound being heard, she hurried to her room to dress for dinner, for which the second bell had long since sounded.
On entering the drawing-rooms where the assembled guests were awaiting her arrival, she endeavoured to explain her delay by describing the cause as being due to the walk through the wood, and the heavenly music she had followed in her fruitless endeavour to obtain a sight of the performer, and would have gone on with her story had not she perceived the sudden expression of panic which overspread the countenances of one or two members of the company, and the deadly paleness with which Lady Airlie herself stood listening aghast at the declaration.
The tact of the narrator would have led her to cease her description, but just then the summons to dinner came to her relief, and she descended the stairs with a feeling of guilty embarrassment at the effect produced by the tale. The nearest neighbour at dinner enlightened her as to the fearful meaning her words had conveyed – all the more terrible, inasmuch as the doctor had pronounced his patient not quite so well as on the day before, and had, therefore, signified his intention of returning to the castle at night .The next day all was over .His lordship had been seized with gout in the stomach, and had died after a few hours’ agony, verifying the truth of the warning conveyed by the “Airlie music” to the very letter.
Daily Telegraph and Courier (London), 8th October 1881.
Ghostly Drums.
Stories of the Drummer Ghost of Airlie have been recalled by the sojourn of Mr Clynes at Airlie Castle while awaiting events at Glamis. Tradition has it that the ghost drums a tattoo whenever a member of the family is to die, and a circumstantial record of such a warning was given as recenlty as 1881 by Lady Margaret Cameron of Lochiel.
She was staying at Airlie, and one evening on entering the drawing-room observed Lady Dalkeith and the Countess of Lathom sitting there very silent. “Two days later” she says, “on the arrival of the post, Lady Dalkeith came to my room with the newspaper in her hand, and told me that while I was out of the room she and Lady Lathom distinctly heard the sound of a drummer beating his drum outside the house, but decided not to mention it for fear of alarming me. She then told me tha tthe deat h of Lord Airlie was announced as having taken place in America the same night that they had heard the sound.” Liverpool Post.
Blyth News, 11th August 1930.