Exorcism of a ghost.
Clergyman’s strange statement.
A curious “ghost story” comes from the village of Ashfordby, in Leicestershire. It appears that the rectory of Ashfordby, which is inhabited by the Rev. F.A. Gage Hall, has the reputation of being haunted. According to accounts which have been published, many attempts were made by Mr Hall to “lay” the ghost, which had been greatly troubling th ehouse, but without success.
Finally, it was stated, he solemnly exorcised the spirit, commanding it to depart “in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,” since when nothing had been seen or heard of the phantom. Accounts were also given of the manifestations of the spirit, and it was said that the Rev. C. H. Strudwick, Vicar of Whetstone, a neighbouring parish, had been disturbed two nights running by a ghostly visitant who tore the coverings off his bed.
Mr Strudwick has made the following statement with regard to the matter: “The account of the incident was much exaggerated in the local papers and the accounts garbled. What did happen was only as follows. The first night at Ashfordby Rectory I was awakened by feeling the bedclothes being pulled off me. I took a grip of them, and for some moments they remained rigid through my tight hold of them and the opposing power. Then I felt this power gradually prevailing, and I spoke these words: ‘Whosoever thou art, or whatever thou art, I bid thee depart hence in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost,’ and I made the sign of the cross. Immediately the grip was relaxed, and having lighted my candle I found my room as usual, with the door locked as I left it. I slept in the same room the rest of the ten nights I was there, and nothing further occurred.”
Banbury Advertiser, 28th August 1913.
Ghost Laid Low by Rector.
Strange “Spook” Story from Leicester.
Bedclothes torn from sleeping visitors.
The story of an obstreperous ghost that played pranks upon the residents at Asfordsby Rectory, Leicestershire, for over 30 years, and has at last been laid low by the rector, the Rev. F. A. Gage Hall, comes from Leicester.
Mr Hall, after many fruitless attempts to rid the rectory of its uninvited, long-staying and non-paying guest, at last resorted to the expedient of a solemn exorcism. Putting on cassock and surplice, he went to the affected parts of the house, and with stern mien commanded the spirit to depart “in the name of the Father, the son and the Holy Ghost.”
“I believe,” said the rector in an interview, “that my action has been successful, for we have since seen or heard nothing of the ghost.”
The rectory is a very old and rambling building. It has been the residence of many well-known people, and it is alleged to have been the scene of many grim and daring deeds. Hence it possesses ideal and unrivalled attractions for any enterprising and house-hunting “spook.” But the particular ghost upon whose eviction the rector of Asfordsby is being widely congratualated was not merely a creature of moans and groans, and creepy manners and appearance. He was a ghost of vigorous physique, and, moreover, an apparition with strongly developed likes and dislikes. His pet aversion seemingly was bedclothes, and as an unmistakable indication of his displeasure he was in the rude habit of ripping the blankets and other clothing from harmless sleepers in the dead of night.
Thus the Rev. C H Strudwick, Vicar of Wetstone, a neighbouring Leicestershire parish, recently slept for several nights in a haunted room, and he relates that on the very first night he was alarmed by a violent tugging at his bedclothes. He held on as tightly as he was able, but in vain. The ghost won the tug-of-war and stripped the vicar of his covering.
“All I could see,” said the vicar afterwards, “was a heap of disordered bedclothes on the floor. There was nothing else to indicate that anything unusual had occurred. I searched the room thoroughly, and everything was in order. The door was locked on the inside, and no one could have entered. But when the same thing happened the very next night I was glad to change my room.”
A sister-in-law of the rector subsequently slept in the same room, and had the same alarming experience to narrate to a small knot of scared folk in the middle of the night.
The Rev. Gage Hall declares that such occurrences have been troubling the household ever since he can remember. “The family,” he said, “have heard the ghost tramping round the corridors of the house at night, and the servants have been scared by strange happenings and noises.”
Since the exorcism, however, the ghost has ceased his pranks, and it is generally hoped that he has gone away for good. There are some who may suggest that the “spook” has merely gone away on his summer vacation. But the inhabitants of the rectory do not treat the matter in a frivolous spirit.
Millom Gazette, 29th August 1913.
To the Rev. F.A. Gage Hall, Asfordsby Rectory, Leicestershire.
Dear and Rev. Friend, – Permit me to congratulate you on your success in exorcising the aggravating spook which has been walking the Rectory for I don’t know how many years. I admit there have been and are worse spooks. There are some which throw crockery and furniture about, and some which hit you on the head; some which bang doors, rattle chains, dance the Boston two-step, and groan as if they were suffering the tortures of the damned; spooks which chase you into the garden and push you down the cellar; but this one had original ideas of his own. He was a spook who had a grudge against bedclothes; had a mania for sleeping without them, and thought everybody else ought to do the same. As soon as a guest at the Rectory had turned out the gas and tucked himself in for a pleasant visit to the Land of Nod, that spook would creep softly in through a keyhole or a crack in the door, pull off all the bedclothes, and then disappear. Did this to the Rev. C.H. Strudwick, a neighbouring vicar of yours, didn’t he? Also to your sister-in-law, and others too numerous to mention? The only way of being assured of undisturbed repose when he was about – and he was about most nights, wasn’t he? – was to be content with one’s nightie or pygies. Dear, dear, dear! What a time it was to be sure! And how utterly improper he was! Didn’t even respect the ladies!
How you must thank heaven he’s gone! I suppose he really has gone? It’s something, at any rate, that neither you nor anybody else has seen him since, and now, perhaps, you’ll be able to sleep in peace and war as many bedclothes as you please, for winter’s coming, and you’ll assuredly want them. If you have any suspicions of his returning, take my advice and sleep with the gas on. I’ve never known a spook that could stand the light; I suppose he can’t bear the glare in his eyes. Night, night! Pleasant dreams! John Bull.
John Bull, 6th September 1913.