Spook on the prowl.
Ghostly caller at a farm.
Rappings by an unseen hand.
A weird “spook” story comes from Anslow, three miles from Burton, and is receiving the close attention of the police, who, however, have so far been baffled in their investigations. It concerns an isolated farm occupied by a widow, who has residing with her a brother and several domestics. For some days loud and mysterious knocking has been heard at each door of the house in turn, and although close observation has been kept, both inside and out, no human agency has been visible.
So distraught was the widow rendered by the persistent knocking that she drove over to Burton and enlisted the aid of the police, who watched the house inside and out. On one occasion an officer held the latch of a door which the mysterious agency seemed to favour for an hour and a half, and just as he released his hold, his patience exhausted, the knocking recurred. The officer darted out, but nobody was to be seen.
It is stated that when the blows, which resemble those of a hammer, are rained on the door the latter does not vibrate in the least.
The whole village is perturbed, and the occupants of the farmhouse are quite unnerved.
Northern Daily Telegraph, 1st November 1912.
Mysterious Rappings.
Peculiar story from a Burton farmhouse.
Residents of a farm occupied by Mrs. Thompson, of Anslow, Burton-on-Trent, are in a state of terror consequent on mysterious rappings. The police, who have been brought in, are quite mystified. Mrs Thompson, who recently lost her husband, was startled first last Saturday night by a loud knocking on the door. Upon proceeding to the door, she and a servant saw no one.
On Tuesday the villagers and police were pressed into service, and watchers stood over an hour with a hand on the latch. When knockings were heard they bolted out, but saw no one. On Wednesday noises were heard in the broad daylight on all the doors by persons both inside and out who observed no vibration.
Nottingham Journal, 1st November 1912.
Weird Rappings
Vigils at a farm near Burton-on-Trent.
A weird story is reported from the village of Anslow, Burton-on-Trent, where the Staffordshire police have been enjoined to find the solution of mysterious and persistent knockings at a farmhouse.
On Saturday night the noises began at Park Farm, the tenant of which, Mr Thompstone, had recently passed away. Three loud knocks were heard at the door by the widow, her brother, Mr Walter Thompstone, and the servants. No one was there, and though the knocks were repeated at intervals throughout the night, it was thought to be a practical joke.
The peace of the household was undisturbed on Sunday, but on Monday night the sounds were again heard, and every effort failed to detect the supposed jokers. The next night men were stationed outside, and no one was visible when the knocks came. The police were called in, and a man stood ready to dart out the instant the sound occurred. He had hardly let go of the latch when there were three heavy blows, but no one could be found outside. The affair was getting on the nerves of the occupants and they maintained their vigil throughout the night.
On Wednesday the knocking commenced at 6.30 a.m., and was repeated at 8.30, and occurred in the presence of a postman and a labourer, in addition to the household. All were certain that no one had left the doorway. The rappings continued until the afternoon and then ceased. The sounds came from various entrances to the farmhouse.
An inspector and two detectives kept watch during Wednesday night for some hours, and up to a late hour yesterday there had been freedom from the knocks.
Sheffield Daily Telegraph, 1st November 1912.
Ghost at a Door.
Mystery of knocks at lonely farm near Burton.
Anslow, a village some three miles from Burton, is all agog with excitement over a strange occurrence at Park Farm, an isolated homestead occupied by a widow named Thompstone, who has residing with her a brother and several domestics. for some days loud and mysterious knocking has been heard at each door of the house in turn, and, although close observation has been kept, both inside and out, no human agency has been visible.
So distraught was Mrs Thompstone at the persitent knocking that she drove over to Burton and enlisted the aid of the police, who watched the house inside and out. On one occasion an officer held the latch of a door which the mysterious agency seemed to favour for an hour and a half, and just as he released his hold, his patience exhausted, the knocking recurred. The officer darted out, but nobody was to be seen.
It is stated that when the blows, which resemble those of a hammer, are rained on the door the latter does not vibrate in the least.
Lloyd’s Weekly Newspaper, 3rd November 1912.
Anslow Mystery.
A Weird Village Story.
Strange Knocking at Farmhouse Door.
A portion of the straggling village of Anslow has been considerably perturbed during the past few days by mysterious occurrences which have taken place at Park Farm, occupied by Mrs. M. Thompstone, and concerning which the services of the police have been requisitioned.
On Saturday night, the 26th ult., the household, which consists of Mrs. Thompstone, who is a widow, having recently lost her husband, her brother, aged about 22, Mr. Walter Thompstone, and the domestics, were startled on hearing three loud knocks at the door to find on investigation that there was no one there. The knocking occurred several times during the night, but it was thought at the time that it was only a practical joke.
Sunday was free from the disturbing occurrences, but on the Monday night they again manifested themselves, and, despite the most strenuous efforts, the family were unable to detect the supposed practical jokers. By Tuesday night the incessant waiting for the knocking had become very nerve-trying, and when the loud “rat-tat-tat” came at last it was almost a relief. Men were posted to watch the doors, but it is stated that, although the knocking could be heard thirty to forty yards away, no one was visible.
On Tuesday afternoon Mrs. Thompstone drove into Burton and notified the police of the incidents. That evening the knocking was very loud, and she again drove into Burton and took Police-constable Foxhall back with her to Anslow. On his arrival the police-officer found everything quiet, and for some time there were no manifestations. One of the watchers stood for over an hour with his hand on the latch of the door, waiting to dart out should the knocking again take place, but his vigil was useless. Hardly, however, had he left the latch when the sound of three heavy blows on the door were heard in quick succession. The watcher dashed across the room and flung the door open, but could see no one.
The household did not retire to rest until nearly two o’clock, being almost worn out with their experiences of the preceding days. Up till that time the knocking had been entirely confined to the night-time, and they still cherished the idea that it was a practical, if cruel, joke; but at about 6.30 on Wednesday morning, Mr. Thompstone, who had just dressed, heard a repetition of the knocking. Hurrying out, he thoroughly surveyed the adjacent ground, but could find nothing in the nature of footmarks on the soft soil, or other suspicious circumstances. The household, as can well be imagined, were by that time in a very nervous and highly-strung condition, and when, in broad daylight, the side door of the farm was the medium for a thunderous rat-tat, the females responded with screams.
At about 8.30 Mr. Thompstone was standing in the road outside the farm talking to Mr. George Hood, a postman, and Mr. Wm. Weston, a farm labourer, both of Anslow, when all three heard loud knocking at the back door. It so happened that, from the spot where they stood, although the door was not visible the approach to it was, and all three are positive that no one left the vicinity of the door. On the other hand the servants, who were in the kitchen at the time, at once opened the door and failed to find anyone there.
The distracting noises continued throughout Wednesday morning, but ceased at about two o’clock in the afternoon. On Wednesday night Inspector Oulton, Detective Arnold, and Police-constable Foxhall kept watch at the farm house for three hours, but failed to hear any of the reported sounds.
It is stated that the knocking sounded as if it were made with a hammer or wooden mallet, and that the blows, usually three in number, followed each other in quick succession. The three downstairs doors of the house – the front entrance, a door at the side which is used to load milk into floats, and the back door – have all received their share of knockings, and strange to say none of the doors was seen to vibrate during these mysterious happenings.
Blessed with the courage of Hamlet when upon a similar errand bent, and also a natural curiosity to pry into anything that savours of the supernatural, two Burton residents trespassed upon the solitude of Anslow on Thursday night last, with a view to “laying” the “ghost” of this quaint little village, if at all possible. They had made themselves acquainted with the strange occurrences as published in the “Gazette,” and the story they have furnished of their visit is not lacking in interesting detail.
We gather that they set out to walk by way of Tutbury Road with stout hearts, despite the blackness of the night. There was a nipping and an eager air, a brisk breeze that stripped the almost naked trees of the few leaves that still remained; the starry sky tried hard to relieve the heavy darkness but with little success, and the “sloppy” nature of the road was against sharp walking. Still, they plodded on without hesitancy, and when reaching the highest level of Anslow Lane took a survey of Burton as revealed by its many lights, and were loath to get beyond the bounds of their reflection. They appeared to be possessed of the whole country side, for not a soul had passed en route. However, when not a great distance from the first row of cottages a man came out of the hedge, and a rather offensive expression seemed to indicate that had there been but one to “tackle” he might have caused a bit of trouble. As it was there was no interruption, and a hundred yards ahead were observed the red lights of a farmer’s cart. It was proceeding at a crawling pace, and the two pedestrians were soon alongside it.
In a locality which might be looked upon as an important farming centre, if the number of farmers who are resident there is any criterion, it was necessary to enquire as to the exact situation of Park Farm. The youth in charge of the vehicle was somewhat startled when he found himself addressed upon the subject, but once satisfied with the genuineness of the question he braced himself up and pointed to a faint light some 400 yards away on the left. “That’s the place,” he replied, still eyeing his questioner critically, and when further asked if it were correct that there had been some strange happenings at the house he answered with a sort of shudder, “Yes.”
The horse and cart rumbled along, but did not prevent the driver communicating all he knew of the matter. “To think that I’ve lived in this village all my life and that such a thing should happen is past my understanding. It makes one think that it be haunted, or something.” There was no need to question the accuracy of the reports, for the youth had gathered information from a first-class source, which bore out the particulars as set forth in print. He described the knocking as resembling that which could be caused by a hammer or some other heavy instrument, and added that he would never have believed it had not one of the occupants of the house been his informant.
For some time the household were persuaded to look upon the occurrence as a practical joke, especially as it came at night time. A more serious view, however, was taken when at half-past eight on Wednesday morning three persons standing in the roadway distinctly heard the peculiar knocking. No one was anywhere near the door concerned at the time, and Mr. Walter Thompstone, the brother of the occupier, was heard to remark to the others, “Well, you’ve heard it yourselves now.”
By the time this communicative friend had related his account the visitors from Barton were alongside the house. It stands in an isolated spot, surrounded by a wide expanse of pasture land. Apart from this fact one would not expect it to be the haunt of a “spirit of health, or goblin damn’d,” for the building was not of the creaking order, but one most substantially erected and calculated to well defy the ravages of outrageous elements. There is no entrance facing the road – simply a door which is used to load milk into floats, and this was one of the three that had served to terrify the good people of the house.
There were two lights discernible, and the Barton couple took upon themselves a vigil which was far from cosy. They recalled the fact that it was “Hallow E’en,” and that if a “spirit” was troubling the neighbourhood he (or she) must surely come on the even of All Saint’s. So they watched, and watched, and “with thoughts beyond the reaches of their souls” were quite prepared for the worst. For nearly two hours they listened, hoping that the monotony would be broken by one of those unnerving knocks; but the only sound was the croupy cough of a cow, which appeared to be getting but very little rest in the adjoining field. The fall of a leaf was as disturbing to the ear at this particular hour as the fall of a sledge-hammer would have been in daylight; whilst the slender branches of the trees were apparently getting into a hopeless tangle, the wind being solely to blame. It was indeed very desolate, and the only passers-by were a gentleman cyclist and a lady pedestrian. As if afraid of flesh and blood there was no unterrrestrial visitation, and after all it was left for others to solve the mystery. That it is a mystery the gossip of the village goes well to show, and by those who have been brought in direct contact with the sounds a solution would be gladly welcomed. Back to Burton the “intruders” went, no soon to forget their first search for a “ghost.”
Some interesting experiences of the village “visitations” were told on Thursday night by the Vicar of Anslow, the Rev. E. Wardle, who laughed heartily at the suggestion of its supernatural origin. The village children, he said, when they met him, said, “Please sir, w-hat, w-hat’s a – a token?” and when he smiled, and tried to reassure them, they looked incredulous. Evidently the housewives of the parish have not been slow in attributing all sorts of meanings to the mysterious knockings. Reminded that it was Hallowma-E’en, the good Vicar laughed again, and said that no doubt some people would be on the look out for the spirits. He, however, was at work on a sermon on the saints, and had no fear of evil spirits. He himself, added Mr. Wardle, was only visiting at the house on Tuesday, but attributed no importance to the story of the knockings. It was, he pointed out, just after Michaelmas, and perhaps some mischievous farm lads were indulging in practical jokes. For the present occupants of the farm, he could well vouch as being sober, well-conducted people, who would be above such a thing. In fact, he was very sorry that they should be so disturbed. Possibly, he suggested, the sounds were due to some scientific reason, such as the subsidence of the soil due to the rainy season. He felt sure it would all eventually be explained.
That anyone should e out at night on such an errand is inconceivable to ordinary people, and certainly to town dwellers, for the lonely character of the farm and the Anslow district is better experienced than described. It was possible last night to travel miles without meeting a living creature. In fact, the only person seen between Anslow Church and the farm, a distance of nearly two miles, was a small boy at a gate in the village. The night was clear and starlit, and all the villagers appeared to be snugly at home. The mystery of the whole affair was thus deepened and remains unsolved.
The mysterious agency appears on Thursday to have exhausted its energy, but, as if to lessen the growing feeling of security which nearly twenty hours of immunity from the unwelcome manifestations had engendered in the household, late on Friday afternoon the uncanny knockings were again apparent. A farm employee, interviewed by a “Chronicle” representative on Saturday, stated that she was in the kitchen when four taps, at absolutely regular intervals, were heard on the side door. They were quite audible, and she and a companion hurriedly opened the door. On the other side of the road were four young children, whose faces wore a genuinely scared expression. Of course it was for the moment imagined that they were the cause of the tapping, but a moment’s reflection showed that that was impossible. The door is being used for loading milk floats, and is 6ft. from the ground, and none of the youngsters had a stick. Moreover, the regularity of the sounds quite disproved any suggestion of stone throwing, and, in addition, there were neither marks on the door nor stones on the ground. When questioned, the children stated that they, too, had heard the noises, hence their scared looks.
Burton Chronicle, 7th November 1912.
The Anslow “Mystery.”
Mrs. Thompstone leaves the farm.
No development has occurred in connection with the reported mysterious rappings which have lately been heard at Park Farm, Anslow, into which the police have, so far unsuccessfully, investigated. Mrs. Thompstone, the tenant, who has been considerably perturbed by the inexplicable sounds, has left the farm temporarily, and, curiously, her departure has synchronised with a cessation of the annoyance caused by stupid practical jokers.
Burton Observer and Chronicle, 7th November 1912.
Park Farm, Anslow, 2 miles from Burton-on-Trent; 3 miles from Tutbury.
Winterton & Sons are instructed by Mrs. M. Thompstone (who is declining farming) to sell by auction (entirely without reserve) on Thursday, February 20th next:- 62 Beast, 40 Sheep, 7 Work horses, colts and nags, 19 Pigs, poultry, implements, tackle, dairy utensils and household furniture. About 70 tons hay, 20 tons wheat and oat straw (tied), 76 stacks white oats.
Sale at 11 o’clock. Catalogues from the Auctioneers, Lichfield.
Derbyshire Advertiser and Journal, 31st January 1913.
The farm seems to have stayed with the brother (in law?):
[Opening of the new village hall at Anslow, 1952)
The hall, built in brick and beautifully appointed, is one any village might be proud of. It was opened by Mrs. W. Thompstone, of Northwood, and formerly of Anslow Park Farm, whose husband is chairman of the village hall committee. Before unlocking the door to the hall, Mrs. Thompstone mentioned that it was 39 years since she came to live in Anslow, and they had spent some very happy times together […]
Staffordshire Advertiser, 29th August 1952.
Anslow.
Vicar’s Reference to “Ghost.”
The mysterious knockings which have recently taken place at Anslow form the subject of a reference by the vicar (Rev. E. Wardle) in the current issue of the Parish Magazine. He offers sympathy with Mrs. Thompston, and proceeds: “Can it be that one or two young men of the parish have been trying their hand at a practical joke? Will the knockings be explained by our scientific friends as due to natural phenomena? We trust so. for a house to get the reputation of being haunted (in these days of education) is astonishing. Yet here and there superstition is on the increase; it rears up its head against science and against common-sense. And whilst certain occult laws are being rightly accepted, craft, trickery, and fraud triumph and delude even those of a wide and sound education.”
Burton Chronicle, 5th December 1912.