A Virginia Ghost.
A letter has been received at Richmond, which gives an account of the most extraordinary operations of a supposed “ghost” at Buchanan, in Botetourt County, which has caused considerable excitement and alarm among the inhabitants, in the suburbs of which resides the Rev. G. C. Thrasher, whose house has been for six weeks the theatre of many curious and ghostly exploits.
The hobgoblin, or whatever else it may be, commenced operations by extracting from the rev. gentleman’s corn crib, through a padlocked door, a sack of corn, and pouring it out some 20 paces from the crib; and this circumstance proves that the spirit must be at least white, for one bearing the hue of the “fifteenth amendment” could never have resisted the temptation of “toating” it to his haunts. [?!!]
Then night after night it came, performed its fantastic tricks, opened windows barred on the inside, doors locked and guarded, scattered furniture and the utensils of the culinary department hither and thither, and went away unperceived, despite the fact that each night the house was guarded inside and around by vigilant neighbours armed to the teeth, and eager to capture or detect the bold hobgoblin who had time and again passed through their ranks unseen.
One evening last week, while Mr Thrasher was writing in his study, about three o’clock, there was a bold knock on the door several times repeated; but on Mr Thrasher’s seizing a pistol and rushing to the door, lo, nothing was there, and nothing was to be seen in the vicinity, although the minutest search was made; and this knocking occurs frequently, and has been attested by gentlemen of undoubted veracity.
Three evenings ago Mr Thrasher went over to Dr Wood’s residence, and while there heard his little children, whom he had left at home, ringing a bell, and at the same time heard a violent knocking at the door, and on approaching, being armed with a shotgun, and accompanied by Dr Wood, distinctly heard his little son inquire of the unwelcome visitor what it wanted. A reply was given, but in an undistinguishable mumble, resembling, as Dr Wood describes it, a confusion of voices coming from the ground.
Both gentlemen affirm that not the least trace of any person or thing was visible, although every nook and corner of the premises were carefully examined; nor could any person in the house produce the sounds they heard, no one being at home at the time except his three little children, the eldest a brave little boy of twelve summers, who, with pistol in hand, was interlocuting the hobgoblin who has puzzled the greyest heads in Buchanan.
Some two weeks ago Mr Thrasher was watching in his yard, armed with a double-barrelled shotgun, when, as he says, something like a thin shadow, bearing resemblance to a human form, passed by him, but swiftly as the wind, and instantly disappeared. This is all that he has seen, and, strange enough, not a track or trace has ever been left behind, although night after night, in moonshine and darkness, in calm and in storm, the mysterious stranger has come, played his curious pranks, the half of which I have not told, and went – where? One would naturally ask if there might not be some place in which a person might conceal himself for the purpose of playing a joke upon the reverend gentleman, but I answer there is none.
Every nook has been examined time and again by many persons, and there cannot possibly be any subterranean retreat for flesh and blood. The surrounding grounds are plain and clear, and it seems impossible that any person could pass from the house unperceived, even in partial darkness. And if it is the devil unchained and permitted to roam at will “seeking whom he may devour,” is it not singular that the first person he seizes upon should be a Baptist minister? – New York Herald.
North British Daily Mail, 7th February 1871.
An American Ghost.
A friend in America has forwarded us the following extraordinary report, copied from the Richmond (Virginia) Dispatch, of the 4th of last month, and supplied to that paper by its correspondent at Lexington, Va., who thus introduces the startling narrative:-
Rev. George C Thrasher, of Buchanan, was in town to-day and being an intimate acquaintance and friend, your correspondent “interviewed” him concerning the mysterious manifestations reported to have occurred at his house. He gave us a detailed account of the whole affair, and from full notes taken at the time, we present your readers with the following first-class ghost story:-
About seven weeks ago, during Mr Thrasher’s absence from home, his wife and children heard, about five o’clock in the evening, loud talking at the corn-house. Upon going out they saw two persons run off, and found that about a peck of corn had been abstracted from the crib and poured in a pile on the ground near by. The next evening, about the same hour, they heard a noise in the rear of the kitchen, and upon going out, found that the window had been carefully removed and put inside the kitchen, and that the cooking utensils and kitchen furniture were scattered over the yard. Mrs Thrasher distinctly saw two men run off, and two young men who came up at the time also saw them dodging in the field above. The next evening Mr Thrasher returned home about dusk, and while his little boy was telling him of these strange occurrences, the window of the kitchen was seen to be open, and on examining the utensils and furniture, they were found to be again scattered about the yard.
The next evening, while Mr Thrasher was in the corn-house watching, he saw a form pass rapidly around the kitchen, but taking it for a servant woman did not pursue. Not long after he went into the house, and upon sending his little boys out they reported that the window of a lock-room joining the house had been opened (although securely bolted inside) and a bag taken out and thrown on the ground.
Soon after this Mr Thrasher and his wife went over to call on a neighbour, leaving at home their children (two boys of seven and fourteen), and a little white girl of thirteen who lives with them. In about ten minutes the children reported that the kitchen had been again turned out of doors, and that they had seen two men run off.
The next evening a dozen young men from the village guarded the house. They saw nothing while on post, but when they went into the house the little girl who was watching at the window reported that two men had jumped over the fence. Instant pursuit was made, and they saw one of the men sitting down in a vacant lot. Failing in an attempt to surround him, they fired five shots at him as he ran off.
The next evening and the next the kitchen was served as usual, but no one was seen. The next evening the visit was made before five o’clock, and the kitchen window broken; but notwithstanding there was snow on the ground, no tracks or traces of the mysterious visitors were to be found; indeed, no tracks have ever been seen.
The next day Mr Thrasher moved everything out of the kitchen into the lock-room, and since that time nothing about the premises has been moved out of its place, save on one occasion – the tactics of the visitor (for since then only one has been seen) being entirely changed.
It, she, or he, (which pronoun shall we use?) now began to knock violently at the front or back door. The noise was generally heard from three o’clock in the afternoon till eight o’clock in the evening, and would consist of very loud and rapid knocks. Mr Thrasher would sit in his chamber with the door opening into the passage, and on the first knock would rush out. The knocking would continue until he reached the outer door, but, on throwing it open, he could see no one, although there was no place for some distance in which a man could hide. Every stratagem was resorted to – such as sending persons on each side of the house – but all in vain.
At three o’clock in the afternoon, the Friday before Christmas, the knocking was especially violent, and (Mr Thrasher being absent) Mrs Thrasher rang a bell, and Dr Wood promptly came over, but could see no one. The knocking was continued as before after the Doctor went into the house, and presently a violent noise, sounding like a man jumping up and down on heavy boot heels, was distinctly heard in the passage. They would rush out to find nothing. These knockings have been heard every day, except that several times there has been an interval of two or three days, during which there has been no disturbance heard.
The mystery is, that Mr Thrasher’s house is situated on a hill in full view of the whole town; that a man at this front door in broad day time would almost certainly be seen, even if no one was specially on the watch, and that there have been numbers of the citizens at different points keenly looking out for the mysterious visitant. One evening about seven o’clock, with the moon brightly shining, the knocking at the front door was distinctly heard by two respectable coloured men who were passing immediately in front of the house, and by two young men at the Presbyterian Church, a short distance off, and yet neither of them could see anything.
One evening, at dusk, a violent stamping was heard on the stone pavement leading to the house, which continued to come nearer until it was very violent on the porch, even while Mr Thrasher was opening the door; but it suddenly ceased as he stepped out, and nothing could be seen.
For two or three weeks past it has been a talkative spirit (?) – even disposed to be loquacious. One evening during a violent knocking at the door, the little girl who lives in the house, and who had been suspected by some of the citizens of having some agency in the disturbances, asked in the presence of the children, – “What have you against Mr Thrasher and his wife?”
“Nothing,” was the prompt reply; “they are very good people, but are no account.”
“Do you not know that I am charged with doing this?” “Yes, but they are very much mistaken, and it is not done with yet.”
“Are you a dead or a live spirit?” “I am in my right mind.”
Another evening, Mr Thrasher and his wife being out, the little girl threw a rock out of the window, and a voice instantly said, “Do not hit me.” The knocking at the door was at once begun, and when Mr Thrasher’s little son threatened to shoot, a voice responded: “I am not afraid of being shot to-night. Mr and Mrs Thrasher are not here. I saw them go away myself.”
The children frequently held protracted conversations with the mysterious visitant, who declines, however, to talk with Mr Thrasher or his wife.
One evening it was agreed that the little girl and boy should hold him in conversation at the front door while Peck (an older boy) should take off his shoes, creep out at the back door, and get a shot at his ghostship. The conversation was going on pretty lively, when he suddenly exclaimed: “Peck Thrasher is coming, and I must be going,” and was heard to run off. This was repeated several times.
Upon another occasion Mr Thrasher came up and heard the children and a little boy from the town loudly talking with the visitor, but watched for some time in vain. One morning after eight o’clock the little girl went out and hung the week’s washing on the fence. She had just started into the house when she saw a man deliberately taking the clothes, piece by piece. She gave the alarm, and Mr Thrasher’s oldest boy rushed out and saw the man run off. The clothes were found neatly laid together in a pile.
On last Thursday evening (the day before Mr Thrasher left home, and the date of our “latest advices from the seat of war,”) a favourite puppy of the children was heard howling in deep distress, and the licks of a switch could be distinctly heard. The children raised the window and saw a man rush off. They describe him as thick-set, of very dark complexion, if not black, and dressed in dark brown clothes, very rough and untidy. The family have not been at all frightened, and thus far there seems to have been no disposition on the part of their mysterious visitant to injure any one, though they have tried very vigorously to stop his career. Otho Thrasher, a brave little fellow only seven years old, saw him standing near the well one night, and snapped five caps at him, and another night he shot at him standing in the chimney corner, and put the bullet about a foot to the right of where he stood.
Your correspondent will not speculate on this mystery, but simply reports what was told him by Mr Thrasher, for whom he can vouch as a Christian minister of unimpeachable character.
Mr Thrasher says that he has abandoned all hope of solving the mystery, but that he is satisfied by one circumstance that the visitor is a fool. “He said one night that he wanted money, and no one but a fool – be he man or demon – would come to the house of a Baptist preacher for that article.”
Berkshire Chronicle, 25th March 1871.