Battersea, London (1928)

The Battersea “Ghost.”

House bombarded by crowd.

Following a report that it was haunted, a house in Eland-road, Battersea, was surrounded by a large crowd, including hundreds of school children, yesterday, and missiles were thrown, breaking a number of windows at the back and front. Mrs Perkins, who lives in the house, speaking to a “Daily News” representative last night, said: “All this trouble has arisen because someone has stated that our house is haunted with ghosts. Of course, there is nothing of the kind. True, there have been strange happenings during the past nine weeks but we are fully convinced that it is all due to human agency.”

“My father, who is 86, and my brothers and sister all live here, there being six of us in the family. We are believers in fresh air, and on that account always have our windows wide open. About nine weeks ago pieces of coal, household sods, potatoes, onions, and indeed coins, began to fly across the dining-room, apparently coming from nowhere. My father was injured on the head by a piece of coal and had to receive medical treatment only a few days ago. It is pretty obvious that someone is throwing things at the window day and night. When the windows are closed the glass is broken.

“We called in the police because we were afraid of being injured, and while they were here they experienced a pelting which made them somewhat afraid. We have kept watch night and day at the back of the house, but have not yet been able to trace definitely the origin of these happenings, but we have our suspicions, and we think ere long, when certain action has been taken, the trouble may cease altogether.”

Daily News (London), 19th January 1928.

Attracted by strange events at a house.

More than a score of policemen were engaged last night in keeping large crowds from going down Eland-road, Battersea, where in a house in the occupation of Mr Robinson and his family there have been strange happenings. Mrs G. Perkins, a married daughter, told the “Daily News” that there was a human explanation of all that had happened. On the other hand, Mr Fred Robinson said that on Monday morning there were loud bangings in all parts of the house. “I called in help to carry my aged father out of the bedroom, because I feared that his health would be affected,” he said, “and as we were taking him out a heavy chest of drawers crashed to the floor.” Three tradesmen, who helped to move the old man, said that they were looking out of the window when the chest of drawers crashed.

Last evening Mr Harry Price, of the National Laboratory of Psychical Research, who visited the house, said he saw a metal gas-lighter flung a distance of 20 feet and land near his own head, apparently without the aid of any human agency. “I was standing in one room and the gas-lighter came from the scullery, where there was no one present,” he said. “I do not think that it was anyone trying to play a trick.”

Daily News (London), 20th January 1928.

Weird noises and moving furniture.
Mounted police called out to clear crowd.

Mounted police were called into action this morning in the vicinity of a house in Eland Road, Battersea, which because of unusual happenings there during the last few days, is alleged to be haunted. The police authorities who have their own theory as to the cause of the uncanny moving of furniture have taken drastic steps to put an end to the assembling of curious crowds who have become a source of annoyance to the inhabitants of the neighbourhood. People began to assemble near the house at breakfast time and indulged in jeering and laughing for a considerable time. The tone of the crowd changed, however, with the appearance of mounted police.

No one except those connected with the family living in the house and tradesmen are allowed to enter the premises. Weird noises, the moving of furniture, and the striking of the occupants by unseen missiles, are the causes of the disorder at the house. So serious has been the effect of the eerie happenings on the health of Mr Robinson, who resides in the house, that he has been removed to hospital.

Members of the police force generally are not on the best of terms with “spooks,” and the officers who, with the assistance of neighbours, are attempting to solve the mystery, are understood to be looking for some human agency. Despite the keen watch which was kept all night, however, the mystery is no nearer solution.
Dundee Evening Telegraph, 20th January 1928.

Crowds Flock to “Haunted” Residence.

Police Cordon Near House.

Noise, Damage and Cinder Mysteries.

Police reserves had to be called out in Battersea last night to control crowds which were flocking into Eland-road, where mysterious happenings in No. 8, such as the overturning of furniture and the breaking of windows, have puzzled the occupants for several weeks. A cordon of constables was drawn across the Lavender Hill entrance to the street.

It is stated that for nearly six weeks a family named Robinson have been worried by strange noises. A policeman was standing in the garden when cinders dropped onto his helmet.

At 10 a.m. on Monday Mr. J. Bradbury, a dairyman, was called into the house by Mr. F. Robinson. With Mr. Bradbury went  Mr. H. Harris, a greengrocer, and a fish dealer’s assistant. In the hall they saw a broken hall-stand. Some mysterious force, it was stated, had done the damage.

A woman told the visitors that she wished to leave but was afraid to go upstairs for her belongings. “We will go up with you,” said Mr. Bradbury. In the bedroom the woman’s wardrobe was on the floor. It is stated that it had been upset by the mysterious force.

“I was invited to a back room on the first landing,” said Mr. Bradbury. “The glass panel of the door was broken, and inside was a set of drawers which had fallen forward. The glass which had been standing on it was now at the back against the wall. As I looked out I heard a crash from one of the front bedrooms, and then a woman’s scream. To get out of the room I had to clamber over the fallen drawers. When I reached the landing I saw the woman and a boy. We entered the bedroom from which the noise came, and I saw that a chest of drawers upon which I had leaned a few minutes earlier was now on the floor. No mysterious falls of furniture took place while we were in any particular room.”

Mr. F. Robinson, who is in the scholastic profession, says that in consequence of the series of disturbing events his father, an octogenarian, has left the house. Others remaining are the Misses K. and L. Robinson, daughters of Mr. Robinson, senior, who are teachers at Fulham; Mrs G. Perkins, another daughter; and Percy Perkins, who is aged nearly 15.

Westminster Gazette, 20th January 1928.

Riddle of ‘Spooks’.
Police cordon round a London house
No “arrest”
Father and son taken to hospital.

Police are of the opinion that there is a very human explanation to the strange happenings attributed by some to “spooks” at the “mystery house” in Eland-road, Battersea. The occupants have been puzzled for several weeks by the overturning of furniture, breaking of windows, and sudden showers of coke, soda and pennies through some unknown agency. The house was guarded yesterday by mounted police, and hundreds of sightseers from all parts of London, who came in the hope of securing a glimpse of the “ghost,” and many amateur “ghost” hunters, determined to solve the mystery, were stopped at the end of the street. Only residents were allowed to pass the police cordon.

Two sergeants remained on duty in the house during the day. They reported no more visitations and no “ghost” was arrested. Mr Frederick Robinson, aged 35, one of the occupants of the house, whose father, aged 86, is already in St John’s Hospital, Wandsworth, as a result of the mysterious happenings, was taken to the same hospital yesterday and placed under observation in a mental ward.

An official of the Society for Psychical Research, which has investigated the matter, told the Daily Herald last night that the society had no statement to make.

Large crowds gathered late last night in the neighbourhood of the “mystery house,” but mounted police kept them on the move, and there was no recurrence of any strange phenomena.
Daily Herald, 21st January 1928.

“Ghost” terror in house.
Occupants admitted to infirmary.
Mounted police called out.
London, Saturday.

Extraordinary scenes are being witnessed in Eland Street, Battersea, where efforts are being made to lay a “ghost” who smashes crockery, overturns bulky furniture, and flings handfuls of copper coins at the occupants. It is stated that as a result of the ghost’s depradations two members of the family – the father and son – have been admitted to the local Infirmary. Crowds of spectators have grown so large that the police have had to keep the street clear. Mounted police were called out to assist in keeping the mob back.

For some weeks, declare the Robinson family, who have lived in the house for twenty-five years, they have been troubled by a mischievous spirit. The Robinsons now left in the house say that they are almost afraid to sit upon the chairs, lest they should be suddenly overthrown.  The occupants are Miss Kathleen Robinson, Miss Lillah Robinson, and Mrs Perkins, all sisters, and Mrs Perkin’s son Peter, aged fourteen. The two Miss Robinsons are school teachers, while their brother, Mr Frederick Robinson, who has been taken to hospital, is a tutor.

The first intimation the family had that there was something unusual going on in the house was a few days before Christmas, when they were repeatedly awakened from sleep by mysterious tappings. Although a surveyor was called in nothing was found that could account for the noise, which later on developed into a loud groaning sound. Then things began to fly about on their own accord. Windows were broken by lumps of coal, cups and saucers would fly about and shatter themselves against the walls, and on several occasions the occupants themselves were hit by flying missiles.

“When we could stand it no longer,” said Miss Kathleen Robinson, “we called in the police, but they were as baffled as we were.” ‘The Ghost,’ it seemed, contented itself with making sport of the household effect, and the Robinson family could do nothing but stand by and watch their furniture being overturned and splintered for no reason whatever. A curious point was that the furniture seemed heavy to lift up again. “It was as if someone was sitting on it,” said Miss Robinson. “It has become almost impossible to lay a table for meals,” said Miss Robinson, “for at one attempt the cloth flew off twice, and then the table began to spin round. Finally it crashed over, and all the chairs were piled on top of it.”
Sunday Post, 22nd January 1928.

Coy ghost’s garter left under mat in haunted house.

Special to “The People.”

Is Battersea’s ghost a feminine spirit addicted to the use of attractive garters? Up to yesterday morning there had been no indication of the character or sex of the unruly spirit which for five weeks past has been creating havoc in the house of Mr Henry Robinson at Eland-rd, Lavender Hill, S.W. All that was known of the ghost was that “it” was a very unpleasant person whose ill-temper took the form of coal and coin-throwing, furniture moving and glass-smashing. But a discovery which was made yesterday by a visitor may throw some light on the matter. The visitor declares that the “ghost” wears garters – and fancy garters, at that.

He bases his assumption on the fact that a small mat which, as has already been described, was seen to curl up in the weirdest manner outside the door of the front room disclosed, when it rolled away, a small paper parcel. Inside the parcel was a woman’s garter, to which was attached  piece of string. The occupants of the house, however, are emphatically of the opinion that the discovery has nothing whatever to do with the strange happenings.

“I can say absolutely nothing, and I am sorry I can’t admit you,” said Miss Kathleen Robinson, one of the teacher daughters of Mr Frederick Robinson, the tenant of the house, when I called there today. “The whole problem has been solved,” she continued. “The alarming disturbances of the past few weeks have been traced to vibrations which have been going on beneath the floor.”

Although the ghost continued to make its demonstrations after Mr Frederick Robinson’s removal on Friday to St. John’s Hospital, Battersea, it did not surpass its performance of the previous Monday, which appeared to have been its “day out.” On that day Miss Kathleen Robinson heard three sharp knocks at her door. Her umbrella, which was on the floor, was lifted by some invisible agency, and then dropped back with a thud. When she picked it up, the handle was broken. Then the dressing-table fell over. A linen basket was hurled against another bedroom door and smashed a glass panel. A heavy chest of draws in the father’s bedroom toppled over, breaking a glass panel in the door as it fell.

While Mrs Perkins was preparing breakfast in the kitchen a small table crashed to the floor, carrying with it a tray that was broken by the fall. She had scarcely picked up the small table before the kitchen table began to turn about. The family hurried from the house, and had scarcely got out before a hallstand fell with a crash that severed the upper part from the lower and made a dent in the balustrade of the staircase. Neighbours who gathered round saw a bureau stirring in the front room.

Mr Henry Robinson has been so affected by the affair that he has had to go into hospital. “We are being driven out of our home,” said Mrs Perkins. A woman’s shrieks were heard from the back garden of the house by a woman neighbour at mid-day yesterday. On going to investigate, the neighbours found that Mrs Perkins had run out of the house and was pointing up at one of the back windows where she said she could see some furniture on the move again.

The People, 22nd January 1928.

Spooks back again.
Police cordon defied at Battersea.
Moving lights: smashes.
House occupants’ ordeal.

Weird happenings have again occurred in the Battersea “mystery house” in Elland Road where a cordon of police is on guard. When Mr Frederick Robinson, one of the occupants, was detained under observation in the mental ward of St John’s Hospital on Friday there was a temporary lull in the activities of the uncanny force, which, according to the occupants, is responsible for the sudden overturning of furniture, the shattering of windows, and showers of soda, coal, and pennies which come apparently from nowhere.

According to Mrs Perkins, who is still living in the house, the eerie happenings recommenced during the week-end. “I was sitting at breakfast with my two sisters,” she told a “Daily Herald” representative, “when there was a crash in the next room. We rushed in and found that a salad bowl had been broken. A piece remained on the sideboard where we had left the bowl, but the rest was in fragments several yards away, and no one was in the room when it happened. Coal has come with a force human hands could never have given it through the glass doors of the kitchen. I have seen a cup come out of the cupboard and float across the room, and a tray and shoe transferred from one side of the room to the other when not a soul was near. Yesterday the heavy kitchen table overturned of its own accord. I replaced it on four occasions, and each time the uncanny force threw it over.”

She paused suddenly. “Listen,” she said to our representative, and from the inside wall of the house there came a series of knocks. “Now something will overturn,” she declared. “Be careful that chest of drawers doesn’t fall on you.”

We waited for several minutes in silence, but the “spook” did not produce any further manifestations. Although the police still hold the theory that the mystery has a human explanation, the constables guarding the house on Sunday afternoon were amazed by neighbours in a nervous state, who declared they had, through the windows of the house, seen lights moving about. The constables investigated, but the house was empty, the occupants having all gone out. People living next door also complained about showers of pennies falling in their back gardens.

The inquiry into the state of mind of Frederick Robinson, who on the morning he was taken to hospital stated to the police that he saw a mat float along the hall and enter the drawing-room, will be held tomorrow. Mr Robinson, senior, is also at St John’s Hospital suffering from the effects of the mysterious affair.

Mrs Perkins has received a lot of letters from Spiritualists, who want to hold seances, but so far she had refused to allow any seances to be held there. On Sunday night, however, she confessed that she was “seriously considering having such a seance.”
Belfast Telegraph, 23rd January 1928.

Spooks Back Again
Weird happenings in mystery house
Moving lights
Crockery shattered and table overturned!

Weird happenings have again occurred in the Battersea “Mystery House” in Elland-road, where a cordon of police is on guard. When Mr. Frederick Robinson, one of the occupants, was detailed under observation in the mental ward of St. John’s Hospital on Friday there was a temporary lull in the activities of the uncanny force, which, according to the occupants, is responsible for the sudden overturning of furniture, the shattering of windows, and showers of soda, coal and pennies which come apparently from nowhere.

According to Mrs. Perkins, who is still living in the house, the eerie happenings recommenced during the weekend. “I was sitting at breakfast with my two sisters,” she told a Daily Herald representative last night, “when there was a crash in the next room. We rushed in and found that a salad bowl had been broken. A piece remained on the sideboard, where we had left the bowl, but the rest was in fragments several yards away, and no one was in the room when it happened. Coal has come with a force human hands could never have given it through the glass doors of the kitchen. I have seen a cup come out of the cupboard and float across the room, and a tray and shoe transferred from one side of the room to the other when not a soul was near. Yesterday the heavy kitchen table overturned of its own accord. I replaced it on four occasions, and each time the uncanny force threw it over.”

She again paused suddenly. “Listen,” she said to our representative, and from the inside wall of the house there came a series of knocks. Now something will overturn,” she declared. “Be careful that chest of drawers doesn’t fall on you.”

We waited for several minutes in silence, but the “spook” did not produce any further manifestations.

Although the police still hold the theory that the mystery has a human explanation, the constables guarding the house yesterday afternoon were amazed by neighbours in a nervous state, who declared they had, through the windows of the house, seen lights moving about. The constables investigated, but the house was empty, the occupants having all gone out. People living next door also complained about showers of pennies falling in their back gardens.

The inquiry into the state of mind of Frederick Robinson, who on the morning he was taken to hospital stated to the police that he saw a mat float along the hall and enter the drawing-room, will be held to-morrow. Mr Robinson, senior, is also at St. John’s Hospital, suffering from the effects of the mysterious affair.

Mrs Perkins has received a lot of letters from spiritualists who want to hold seances, but so far she had refused to allow any seances to be held there. Last night, however, she confessed that she was “seriously considering having such a seance.”
Daily Herald, 23rd January 1928.

Pressman waits for ghosts in vain.Vigil in Battersea house.
Spooks shirk an interview.

I sat alone in the drawing room of the Battersea haunted house waiting to be haunted (writes a “Daily Express” representative). My wait was unfruitful, for the ghosts declined to be interviewed or to show themselves to a Press representative. I stared for ten minutes at “When Did You Last See Your Father?” over the piano, hoping that the curb would get up and dance on my toes. (A rug, they say, danced from the hall into the room on Saturday.) Nothing happened.

I turned my back on the room and stared with cold unconcern at the group of would-be sightseers on the pavement, giving the door a chance to fall off its hinges. Nothing happened.

Then I distinctly heard three knocks. A moment’s silence, and then there was the sound of footsteps in the corridor, followed by dim but unmistakable voices. Three times this happened, but I saw nothing, for Miss Robinson had taken her [caliera?] into the kitchen. The ghost seems to have a chivalrous nature, for he has ceased his tantrums now that there are only women left in the house. Mr Robinson, the 85-year-old  father, was taken to hospital to protect his nerves last week. His son, aged 40, was taken to hospital for examination on Friday, and on Saturday the 15-year-old son of one of the sisters was taken away. Nothing has happened since Saturday.

The house, however, remains like a [?] of the battlefields. All the window panes and door panes at the back of the house have been smashed by missiles evidently thrown from outside. This window-breaking has been going on for some time, and the house next door has suffered in the same way. The indoor mysteries still remain unexplained. What made the wardrobe and the hallstand fall down, the rug betake itself into the drawing room, and the china salad bowl shoot from one end of the room to the other when the room was empty?

The borough surveyor has assured Miss Robinson that the walls and floors are quite sound. No house ever looked less haunted. One of the sisters, Miss Kathleen Robinson, has been driven to Yorkshire. The other two are braving it out and sleeping at friends’ houses until the brother comes back.
Belfast Telegraph, 24th January 1928.

Tapping in uncanny house.

Except for a few mysterious tappings on the wall of the front hall, the house of mystery in Eland-road, Battersea, has had three days’ freedom from uncanny happenings. “The tappings came from where the hallstand stood until it was mysteriously pushed over,” the “Daily News” was told yesterday by Mrs Perkins, a sister of Mr Frederick Robinson, who has been under observation at St John’s Hospital, Battersea, since being moved there from the house last Friday. No seances have been held. Mr Harry Price, of the National Laboratory of Psychical Research, visited the house a few days ago, but there was no suggestion of his conducting a seance.

Daily News (London), 24th January 1928.

 

Dancing Hall Mat.

Furniture overthrown and pottery broken – rain of coal lumps.

A Daily Mirror representative who visited the house yesterday found Mrs Perkins and Miss Kathleen Robinson, the two sisters whose father and brother have been removed by the police, conducting a search to see if any damage had been committed during the night. They are now sleeping at friends’ houses, while Mr Frederick Robinson, the brother, is detained in St John’s Infirmary pending an examination. Since Mr Robinson and his father left the house, Peter Perkins, the fourteen-year-old son of Mrs Perkins, has been staying with relatives, and now nobody sleeps in the “mystery house.”

But the “manifestations” continue, although only when the two sisters are in the house. They showed The Daily Mirror the damage committed by the “unknown.” This included broken pottery and glass, which is said to have been hurled across the room by some mysterious agency and crashed to the floor, while windows and glass doors have been broken by lumps of soda and coal, which apparently come hurtling through the air from nowhere while the sisters are seated in the kitchen.

Furniture, too, has been overthrown and crashed to the floor, while the hall mat is alleged to have danced along the floor and whirled around the front room before subsiding, apparently exhausted, on the carpet.

In addition to the two men who have been removed, a woman who lives next door is in a state of nervous prostration owing to the occurrences, and the whole neighbourhood has been roused to a state of indignation against the human or spiritual agency responsible for the outrageous behaviour of the crockery and furniture.

Many protests have been made to the police by residents in the street, and crowds gather regularly outside the house to wait for hours for the “manifestations” until they are turned away.

The sisters yesterday called in their solictor to assist in the investigation and are even considering the possibility of employing a private detective. “We are convinced that the damage is caused by some human agency and not by spirits,” Mrs Perkins told The Daily Mirror, because, for one thing, we do not believe in spirits. Even if they existed, they would have no reason for visiting this house. But the fact remains that in some mysterious way pieces of coal and soda and even huge stones come hurtling through our back windows while we are in the kitchen. They sed to be heralded by a slight shower of soda on the roof of the outhouse, but recently they have been preceded by rappings on the walls. The hallstand has been overturned, chairs pushed over, and a salad-bowl hurled to the floor by the invisible agency, so that we both are too frightened to sleep in the house.”

The garden at the back of the house is surrounded by a 10ft. wall, which backs on to the large garden of a doctor’s house. The front gate leading into this garden is always left open for the convenience of people wishing to enter the back doors of their houses and a garage at the bottom.

It is suggested that somebody may have entered the gardena nd thrown the coal and soda at the windows of the house. But that does not explain the strange behaviour of the furniture, which could only be effected by somebody concealed in the house.

[illegible] which are being pursued by the [illegible] it is believed, lead to some solution of the mystery.

Daily Mirror, 24th January 1928.

Girl Braves Ghosts
But they don’t appear: she is disappointed.

The Battersea Ghost, who, among other pranks, has overturned tables and chairs and has sent cups and trays floating through the air in a house in Eland-road, and has reduced many of the neighbours to an extreme state of nerves, has met his match. Mrs E Brackenbury, a virile-looking girl, went to the house from her home in Paddington yesterday with the express purpose of grappling with the mysterious force. She stayed for hours alone in the house, where strong men confessed they felt an uncanny presence and declared they would not remain for a fortune.

She sat waiting amid the overturned furniture and shattered ornaments which are relics of the mysterious visitations, and hoping, as she confessed to a Daily Herald representative last night, that the ghost would again begin his pranks. He refused to do so, however, evidently quelled by her determination. “I haven’t seen or heard anything out of the ordinary since I have been in the house,” she said. “Weren’t you frightened?” she was asked. “No. Only disappointed,” she returned with a smile.
The house is still guarded by police.
Daily Herald, 24th January 1928.

Girl Defies a Ghost.
Weird night in house of strange happenings.

For over 24 hours a frail, dark-haired girl has defied the uncanny agent responsible for the mysterious occurrences at 7, Eland-road, Battersea, London, where, according to the occupants, heavy pieces of furniture have moved about when not a soul was near, cups, mats, trays and shoes have floated through the air, crockery has been smashed by the unseen hand, and showers of coal, soda, and pennies, apparently from nowhere, have broken windows and ornaments.

She is Mrs E Brackenbury, a friend of the family, who went to the house in the hope of solving the mystery. During the 24 hours she stayed in the house – alone most of the time – nothing mysterious happened. “I would give anything if the ghost, or whoever is responsible, would begin again,” she told a Press representative last night. “I have not been frightened while in the house, only disappointed that nothing has happened. I slept last night on the ground floor with the door open, hoping something mysterious would start, but everything remained perfectly quiet. Even the black cat which has been here with me was undisturbed.”

An inquiry into the condition of Mr Frederick Robinson, aged 40, a tutor who lived in the house, and was taken to St John’s Hospital by the police for observation in the mental ward, was held yesterday. At the conclusion the hospital authorities informed the relatives that no decision had been reached but that Mr Robinson would still be kept under observation. The police guard on the house is still maintained.
Nottingham Journal, 25th January 1928.

Woman defies ghost.

Sorry it did not appear.

Everything perfectly quiet.

For over twenty-four hours a frail, dark-haired woman has defied the uncanny agent responsible for the mysterious occurrences at 8 Eland Road, Battersea, where according to the occupants, heavy pieces of furniture have moved about when not a soul was near. Cups, mats, trays, and shoes have floated through the air, crockery has been smashed by the unseen hand, and showers of coal, sods, and pennies, apparently from nowhere, have broken windows and ornaments.

She is Mrs F. Brackenbury, a friend of the family living at Paddington, who came to the house in the hopeof solving the mystery. During the 24 hours she has stayed in the house, alone most of the time, nothing mysterious happened. “I would give anything if the ghost or whoever is responsible would begin again,” she told a Central News representative.

“I have not been frightened while in the house, only disappointed that nothing has happened. I slept on Monday night on the ground floor, with the door open, hoping something mysterious would start, but everything remained perfectly quiet. Even the black cat which has been here with me was undisturbed.”

The inquiry into the condition of Mr Frederick Robinson, aged 40, a tutor, who lived in the house and was taken to St. John’s Hospital by the police and placed under observation in the mental ward, was held on Tuesday. After the inquiry the hospital authorities stated to the relatives that no decision had been reached. Mr Robinson is still being detained.

Belfast Telegraph, 25th January 1928.

 

Spooks Quiet.

Even black cat refuses to be alarmed!

No further mysterious occurrences have been reported from the “mystery house” in Eland-road, Battersea, since Sunday, when, according to Mrs Perkins, one of the occupants, a salad bowl was flung across a room and shattered when nobody was present, and a cup floated out of a cupboard across a kitchen.

Mrs E. Brackenbury, a friend of the family, continues her vigil alone in the house in the hope of locating the “ghost.” “I stayed up last night until 2.30 a.m.,” she told a Daily Herald representative yesterday, “and then slept on the ground floor with the door open, but nothing happened. Mr Wooley, of the Society for Psychical Research, joined me this morning, but the ‘spook’ kept very much to himself. Since I have been here even the family’s black cat has refused to be alarmed.”

An inquiry was held at St John’s Hospital, Wandsworth, yesterday, with reference to Mr Frederick Robinson, the tutor, who formerly lived in the “mystery house,” and was taken to the hospital by the police. At the conclusion of the inquiry, relatives were informed that no decision had been reached, but that Mr Robinson would still be detained in hospital.

Daily Herald, 25th January 1928.

 
Mysterious and uncanny occurrences at a house in Battersea.

In spite of police scepticism, the strange happenings in the house of Mr Robinson, at Eland-road, Battersea, remain as profound a mystery as ever. It will be remembered that Mr Henry Robinson, who is eighty-six, was removed to Battersea Hospital, and that his son, Mr Frederick Robinson, aged forty, who is a tutor, was also detained on Friday morning, and he has been under observation ever since. The occurrences which have so far defied explanation have continued since, without abating in any way, and no solution to the affair is yet forthcoming.

Mrs Perkins, a daughter of Mr Robinson and sister of Mr Frederick Robinson, told a Press representative that on Friday morning the kitchen table and all the heavy chairs in the kitchen turned right over, and the occupants of the room rushed out into the garden in a state of terror. “I tried to put the clock on the table afterwards,” she said, “but four times it went over.” She also recounted how a cup flew out of the cupboard in the kitchen and went right across the room and placed itself upside down in the opposite corner, whilst a tray on the mantelpiece “flew” across the room in the opposite direction.

Stranger still, on Saturday morning, everyone in the house – that is, Mrs Perkins, Miss Kathleen Robinson, and Miss Robinson – were in the kitchen when they heard a crash in the sitting-room, and when they went there found that a salad bowl on the sideboard had thrown itself across the room towards the door, where it lay in fragments. A work-box on the chest of drawers moved itself into a rocking- chair. Then at 9 o’clock on Saturday night what appeared to be a piece of soda smashed through the glass door of the kitchen, making a triangular hole, and rebounded on the cellar door.

Whilst the Press representative was in the house a knocking commenced on the wall of the passage, but, although the two ladies in the house to whom he was speaking expected something to turn over, nothing further happened. They explained that the  knocking was almost invariably the prelude to something being smashed. These phenomenal occurrences have been going on now, with unabated vigour, for the last six weeks. The Robinsons have been in the house for twenty-five years. The throwing of objects on to the back of the house  never ceases at night; but if it were possible to explain these things the movements of the furniture inside the house remain as deep a problem as ever.
Illustrated Police News, 26th January 1928.

From “Haunted” House.

There was a dramatic development on Friday in the case of the house in Eland Road, Battersea, London, where mysterious happenings, including the smashing of furniture and the throwing of coal, have recently taken place. A member of the family, Mr Fred Robinson, a private tutor, aged about 27, was taken to St. John’s Hospital, Wandsworth, to be placed under observation. His removal to the infirmary followed an interview with the police, in which mysterious happenings at the house were discussed. A woman member of the family said afterwards that they were all much distressed by the incident.

“What happened was this,” she said. “Earlier in the morning a mat was flung from one place to another in a mysterious way, and when my brother met some police officers near the house he told them. He was asked if he was prepared to repeat the statement at the police station. My brother, of course, replied that he was prepared to do so, and, I understand, he then went to the police station. This is a terrible thing for us, coming on top of the succession of worries we have experienced lately. Why should the police sergeant select my brother merely because he described what had happened? Other members of the family have also been describing the incidents. While my brother was out this morning, and before we knew what had happened, the table overturned.”

Linlithgowshire Gazette, 27th January 1928.

Battersea’s Bogey. The Poltergeist Phenomena.

Battersea is living up to its reputation. In due course Battersea has sped to its bosom everything new or [?], from the smallest baby born to the most blatant Communistic principal, and now it has its “Poltergeist” – and why not? After all, the “Poltergeist” at his worst is much less terrifying than the Communist in playful mood. Battersea’s hobgoblin has appeared in Eland-street, and Territorials, assisted by professional men, have turned out in force to assist in its subjugation, while psychic investigators are wallowing in it, although the occupier of the house, who is not used to racketty spirits, has sought peace and quietness in the hospital.

After peaceful occupation of the house for 25 years Mr Robinson was startled a few weeks ago by a shower of articles through the back windows. Our spooks were very material in their missiles – potatoes, coal, soda, bricks, and latterly, copper coins, although these were not in any appreciable quantity. Then Miss Kathleen Robinson experienced manifestations. Following three sharp knocks at her door, her umbrella rose from the floor and fell back with a thud, the handle being broken across. The dressing table fell over, a linen basket was hurled against the bedroom door, smashing a glass panel, and a heavy chest of drawers in her father’s bedroom fell over breaking another glass panel.

While preparing breakfast a small table toppled over, and the kitchen table began to turn around. When the neighbours who had gathered outside the house observed the hall stand fall over and a bureau in the front room get a [?] on they were not surprised to see the family emerge in a manner suggestive of haste. These are the plain unvarnished facts, according to eye-witnesses – meanwhile Battersea folk are said to be even forgetting to draw the [?] what time they discuss their [?] sensation.

Norwood News, 17th January 1928.

 

Battersea, London. House in Eland Road.
In this case the phenomena alleged to have occurred consisted in the projection of missiles from outside the house in the form of stones, coal, soda, etc., which broke some of the glass in the back doors and windows. Inside the house furniture was said to have been thrown over and damaged and various small objects levitated from one place to another. Showers of coal and soda were said to have fallen in various parts of the house. By means of careful and continuous observation extending over many days and nights a number of the alleged supernormal phenomena inside the house were witnessed by the investigators, and it became possible to say that all these were brought about by normal means although the agent responsible could not possibly have carried out all the previous phenomena of which we have only hearsay evidence.

It is unfortunate that the full details of the case involve confidential material which cannot well be published, but it is probable that the disturbances were caused by several different persons acting independently with different motives, a fact which rendered the case exceedingly difficult to investigate though of great interest to the psychological student.
Journal of the Society for Psychical Research, June 1928 (p286).

The Battersea “Poltergeist”. Some unusual features developed by London’s latest mystery.

By Harry Price.

London is so infrequently visited by an alleged poltergeist that when one does put in an appearance, so to speak, it naturally causes considerable excitement. This is what happened recently, the disturbances – very real, whether normal or supernormal – lasting nearly two months. The focus of the manifestations was centred in a small villa in Eland Road, Lavender Hill, Battersea, a bustling working-class district of London with no attractions, one would have thought, for a poltergeist. This villa was inhabited by a Mr Henry Robinson, an invalid of 86, who had lived there 25 years, and who was removed to the infirmary at the request of the fmaily when the disturbances commenced. With Mr Robinson senior lived his 27-year-old son Frederick and his three daughters: Miss Lillah Robinson, Miss Kate Robinson and Mrs George Perkins, a widow, who has a 14-year-old son, Peter. The Misses Robinson are school teachers and their brother is a tutor.

The house in Eland Road is of a type of which tens of thousands can be found scattered all round the Metropolis. It has two floors and a small garden at front and rear. It is the typical abode of the London artisan. From the garden can be seen the back windows of some premises occupied by a medical practitioner who keeps a private asylum or mental home. I was told that men suffering from shell-shock are his principal patients. From the doctor’s windows to the back of the “mystery house”, as the press has dubbed it, is about 80 yards. It would be possible for a person standing at the windows of the private asylum to propel, by means of a catapult, small objects such as coins, pieces of coal, etc., with sufficient force to break the windows of the houses in Eland Road.

It was just before Christmas that from a private source I first heard of the strange happenings in Eland Road; but I attached no importance to the report, which differed little from many others which I receive. I heard nothing further until the week commencing January 15th, 1928, when reports of alleged extraordinary happenings began to appear in the press. I decided I would investigate. On Thursday, January 19th, at 9.30 a.m. I paid my first visit. I thought I was fairly early on the scene but a garrulous free-lance female journalist – who opened the door – had arrived earlier and tried to bluff me into abandoning my investigation. Not being easily bluffed, I successfully negotiated the outer defences of the “mystery house” and entered the building. I found the family at breakfast, and my first impression was distinctly favorable as regards the family and the improbability that the inmates of the house were responsible for the destruction of their own home. For I at once saw that someone or something had caused considerable damage to the Robinson menage. Broken windows, smashed furniture, and the debris of ornaments were much in evidence. After a few minutes’ chat I withdrew and promised to call again.

On my return to the National Laboratory I found a message from the editor of the London Evening News asking if I would allow a reporter of that paper to accompany me to the house. I consented and at three o’clock the same afternoon a car was sent for me and for the second time that day I found myself in Eland Road – this time with a press representative. Miss Kate Robinson and Mr Fred Robinson were the only members of the family who were in the house on this occasion, and from them we obtained the complete story of the disturbances. “Except for Percy,” said Mr Robinson, “we have lived in the house for 25 years, happily and peacefully. Then on November 29th lumps of coal, pieces of soda and pennies began to fall on the conservatory – a lean-to building at the back of the house. It stopped for a few days. It began again early in December. It struck me as being extremely curious at the time that, although the pieces of coal were very small they broke the glass. Things became so serious that I decided to call the police. I had no other idea except that some person was throwing things over the garden wall.

“A constable came along, and together we stood in the back garden and kept watch. Pieces of coal and pennies crashed on to the conservatory roof, but we could not trace their flight. One lump of coal hit the constable’s helmet. He ran to the garden wall, but there was nobody there. On December 19th our washerwoman said she would not work any longer in the house. She came to me in a state of terror and pointed to a heap of red-hot cinders in the outhouse. There was no fire near. How could they have got there? Again I called a constable, and we decided to watch in the kitchen. Two potatoes were hurled in while we were sitting there. It was on Monday that the climax came – at 9 o’clock in the morning – and for an hour the family was terror-stricken. There were loud bangings in all parts of the house. My sister ran to tell the magistrate. The window panel in my father’s bedroom was smashed, and as he was in such a state of fear I decided to remove him from the house. I called in a man from the street, and together we carried him from the room. Just as we were taking him out a heavy chest of drawers crashed to the floor in his bedroom. Previously my sister had seen the hall stand swaying and had called me. I caught it before it fell, but some strange power seemed to tear it from my hands, and it fell against the stairs, breaking in two parts.”

Mr Bradbury, the man who was called in to help move the old gentleman, confirmed Mr Fred Robinson’s account. He said: “Mr Robinson called me to his house, and when I arrived there at about 10 o’clock there were a fishmonger and a greengrocer discussing with him what had happened. I saw several women in the house and they appeared to be very frightened. Mr Robinson took me up to a bedroom, where he said his father had been sleeping, and showed us an overturned chest of drawers. One of the women said that she was afraid to stop in the house, and that she was also afraid to go into her room to pack up her clothing. We went with her into her room, and she told us that she had been awakened by loud bangings on the door, and the crashing of glass. We stayed there until she had packed her bag and then returned to the back bedroom, where Mr Robinson showed us pennies and coal on the conservatory roof. The four of us – all men – were watching these, when suddenly from another bedroom came a great crash and downstairs we heard a woman scream. We ran to the room and there we saw a chest of drawers lying on the floor. It was all very strange, and Mr Robinson then took us to the kitchen and showed us the damaged done there.”

After we had heard the history of the disturbances from their commencement the press representative and myself made a tour of the house and carefully inspected the damage, which was considerable. Several of the windows were broken, some with small holes in them as if stones had been fired at them. Some of the panes of glass of the conservatory roof were also shattered, and lying on the roof were pebbles, pennies, lumps of coal, potatoes, pieces of soda, etc., which had been thrown there. A door inside the house had also one of its glass panels broken. In the back bedroom we found the panels of the door shattered; a heavy chest of drawers was splintered as if from a fall; and the remains of several smashed ornaments were scattered about. In the hall we saw a smashed hat stand in two pieces and we viewed the remains of two broken bedroom doors, a tea tray with one of its sides ripped off, and numbers of pictures which had fallen to the ground. In the small garden were strewn lumps of soda, coal, etc.; and Mr Robinson pointed out two windows of neighbouring houses which had received the unwelcome attention of the alleged geist: both had small holes in them as if caused by stones shot from a catapult.

After our tour of inspection we returned to the kitchen where the four of us – Miss Kate Robinson, Mr Fred Robinson, Mr Grice, the Evening news representative; and myself – stood chatting. We were the sole occupants of the house. Mr Grice and I were just about to take our departure when some hard object fell with a resounding thwack in the passage at the back of us. The kitchen is connected with the scullery by a short passage. The scullery leads directly to the garden by a door which we had just closed. Upon the fall of the object we four at once proceeded into passage and found that a metal ferro-cerium gaslighter, with a wooden handle, overall length about 8 inches, was lying midway between the kitchen and scullery. Undoubtedly it had been projected from behind us and had, apparently, struck the wall in its flight. We immediately retraced our steps through the scullery and into the garden but no one was visible.

Miss Robinson told us that the gaslighter – weight about two ounces – was always kept on the gas stove in the scullery. Certainly no one was in the scullery, garden or passage when the lighter was thrown or fell. I say “fell” because it is just possible that it may have been placed on the top of the open door that divides the kitchen from the passage. But experiment proved that a considerable push on the door was needed to displace the lighter which, however, might have been so balanced that a touch would bring it down. But the Robinsons declare that the lighter was on the gas stove when we first visited the scullery. I did not see it there myself; neither did the Evening News representative. It was a curious stop-press paragraph for the evening papers!

The Evening News representative and I again visited Eland Road the next morning (Friday) and were told that a number of phenomena had been witnessed since our previous visit. Pieces of coal, pennies, lumps of soda and stones had been thrown about and one more window had been smashed. We stayed about an hour but witnessed nothing unusual. I arrived back at the National Laboratory about 11.30 and about half an hour later was rung up by the editor of the Evening News who told me that the authorities had removed young Robinson for observation as to his mental state. I was astounded at this fresh development. I had had an hour’s conversation with Mr Fred Robinson on the previous day and had found him quite normal and very intelligent. It is alleged that the police had formed a theory that Mr Robinson junior was responsible for the manifestations and decided to examine him at St John’s Hospital, Battersea.

I again visited the house on Monday afternoon (Jan. 23rd) and had a long interview with Mrs Perkins, the widowed sister. Mr Grice of the Evening News again accompanied me to Eland Road, and again went over the house with me. The fact that Mr Frederick Robinson was not now in the house made no difference in the alleged phenomena. Mrs Perkins told us that during the week-end the manifestations had been both violent and vaired. Besides the usual arrival of pieces of coal, etc., there had been “great activity amongst the furniture.” Chairs, of their own volition “had marched down the hall single file” and three times Mrs Perkins attempted to lay the table for Saturday’s dinner. On each occasion the chairs had piled themselves up on the table making it impossible for the woman to proceed with the preparation of the meal. At the third attempt she went out into the road and asked a police officer who was on duty there to enter the house and examine the “phenomenon” for himself. The stolid London policeman naturally accused Mrs Perkins of piling up the furniture herself. A London policeman has little imagination!

Mrs Perkins’ sister, Miss Robinson, stated that after her brother had left the house an attache case “flew” from a kitchen chair to the floor; an umbrella sprang from the stand in the hall to the kitchen floor; a cruet crashed to the ground; and the table fell over after it had been prepared for dinner. She continued: “We were so frightened that we went outside. Through the kitchen window we saw all the kitchen chairs fall over. We went upstiars and found stones on the roof. An extraordinary part about it is that the furniture seemed heavy to pick up again.” Three persons appear to have witnessed the alleged spontaneous movement of the furniture, viz.: Mrs Perkins, Miss Robinson, and Peter Perkins, the 14-year-old boy who was so frightened – it was stated – that he could hardly be induced to sit on the chair in case it should move. He was afterwards sent to the country to recuperate.

After we had heard the story of what had happened during the week-end we made another examination of the house. It appeared to be in much the same state as when we left it on the previous Friday. We then returned to the kitchen and the four of us (Mrs Perkins, Miss Robinson, Mr Grice and myself) stood chatting in the kitchen when suddenly there was a sound as if a heavy object had fallen behind us, in the kitchen, but near the passage leading to the scullery, the door of which was shut. To me the noise sounded like the fall of a heavy boot or brush and I at once commenced to look for such an article; so did the Evening News representative. In a minute or so I saw something dark under a chair in the corner and putting my hand on it I found it was a pair of lady’s black shoes. Actually I put my hand on a hard object which was in the right shoe and brought it to light. It was a small bronze ornament in the form of a cherub, weighing about four ounces.

The cries of astonishment – real or simulated – with which the ladies greeted my “find” were renewed when it was discovered that the ornament was missing from the mantelpiece of the front sitting-room where, I was informed, it had reposed (together with its fellow-cherub) for twenty-five years. We were assured that these cherubim had never been removed from the front room. I continued my search of the kitchen but could discover nothing else which could have fallen. If the bronze ornament really came from the next room it must have made two right-angled turns and travelled over our heads. It is conceivable that the ornament may have been thrown by one of the women but I was within a few inches of both Mrs Perkins and her sister and saw no suspicious movement on the part of either. Mr Grice also declares that he saw nothing that could account for the flight of the ornament, which was quite cold when I picked it out of the shoe; if it had been held in the hand, it would, ofcourse, have retained some of the heat.

We searched the house once more but satisfied ourselves that we were the only occupants. Mr Grice and I arranged to spend the next night in the house. The next day I was informed that the Eland road House had been shut up so that I gave up the idea of staying all night. The strange occurrences were driving the family to distraction. With both of its male members away, one daughter ill, and the little boy dispatched to the country, the two remaining sisters determined to quit the house of evil associations. The crowds, too, were frightening them. During the week-end mounted police were necessary in order to keep back the gaping mob which all day and night stood in the road and gazed, open-mouthed, at nothing more thrilling than a couple of broken panes of glass. On the Saturday evening the Battersea hooligans threatened to break into the house if they were not permitted to “investigate” the phenomena for themselves. As I was leaving on Monday a burly ruffian with a Russian accent accosted me and asked if he could “mind the place” for me. He would have looked and felt much more at home in a vodka bar at Minsk. I declined his services – without thanks.

During the early part of the week Miss Robinson and her sister decided to return to the house. On the Tuesday the editor of the Daily Express asked me if I would make the experiment of taking a medium to the house in order to see if she could get any “impressions”: I consented. The psychic was a Miss X., the daughter of a well-known London professional man and, of course, an amateur. The Daily Express representative was Mr F.G.H. Salusbury, a gentleman with whom I was already acquainted. We visited Eland Road on Wednesday afternoon, January 25th, arriving at the house about 3 o’clock. Mrs Perkins was there – the only member of the Robinson family who entered the place that afternoon. We took Miss X. to every room in the house in order to discover if she received any impression. She at once declared that the place made her feel “miserable.” This was not particularly illuminating as most suburban houses have the same effect upon me. But in the kitchen Miss X. declared she felt “chilly”. There was a good fire burning in the room – in fact, the kitchen was the only apartment which was heated. Neither Mr Salusbury nor I felt cool in this room; on the contrary, we felt much warmer. But Miss X. continued to get colder and positively shivered. Her respiration slowed down, and her hands were distinctly cold. We left her sitting by the fire watching Mrs Perkins do her household duties. We then continued our search of the house, carefully closing the kitchen door behind us.

We again examined the upper rooms of the house inspecting and examining minutely every article of furniture, ornaments, etc., and noting their exact position. Hardly had we reached the top floor when Mr Salusbury thought he heard something fall down below. I heard nothing myself, but we visited the lower rooms and could find nothing that had moved. The kitchen door was still closed. In reply to our query we were informed that the ladies in the kitchen had heard nothing. We returned to the upper story after again closing the kitchen door. The rooms on the top floor of the Eland Road house are divided by a passage which runs from the back to the front of the building. During our inspection of these rooms we must have traversed this narrow and well-lighted passage at least six or seven times. Neither of us noticed anything on the floor of the passage. At this juncture we were in the front room when we both heard an object fall in some part of the house. We immediately turned to go once more to the lower part of the building and simultaneously saw in the passage, with the light falling full on it, a piece of common yellow soap as used for washing clothes. It was lying right in our path, about six feet from the door of the room we had just entered. We both declared that it was utterly impossible for us to have passed that soap without seeing it; to do so seven times without noticing it or treading on it would have been a miracle. Curiously enough, we did not hear it fall – if it did fall.

Without touching the soap we made our way downstairs to the kitchen, the door of which was still closed. Both Mrs Perkins and Miss X. declared that neither had moved during our tour of inspection: the door of the kitchen had not been opened and no one could enter the house except by the front door (which opened only on the inside) or through the garden, scullery and kitchen. Mrs Perkins accompanied us to the top floor again and examined the soap which she said belonged to the scullery. She could not account for its appearance on the top floor. The ladies also had heard something fall in the house but we all agreed that it did not sound at all like a piece of soap falling. We then carefully examined the soap which showed no signs of having had a blow or of falling heavily. Miss X. was still very cold and shivering though she had just come from a warm kitchen. We stayed in the house for another half hour, but nothing further happened.

Mr Frederick Robinson returned home a few days after the incident of the soap and I have heard of no phenomena since. As I surmised, Mr Robinson was found to be perfectly normal and it was preposterous that he should have been compelled to leave his home. The Battersea “mystery house” affair died a natural death and so another “poltergeist case” has ended in a very unsatisfactory and inconclusive manner. The elder Mr Robinson has died in the infirmary, I learn after despatching this manuscript; the Robinsons have definitely vacated the house and it is being thoroughly “done over.” So unless the phenomena break out again under a new tenant, the case is in fact ended.

It is obvious that the occurrences which I have described were genuine phenomena or were due to some mischievous person or persons with a very powerful motive for disturbing the peace of the locality. My own first impression was that the ex-soldiers at the mental home had discovered that the Eland Road house was an excellent target for their missiles. The angle at which portions of the house were struck originated this theory in my mind. There had also beeen “friction” between the Robinsons and the inmates of the mental home. But no normal exterior force could have smashed the crockery and broken the furniture inside th ehouse. I was then faced with the alternative of suspecting the Robinson family of deliberately destroying the home which had sheltered them for 25 years or attributing the phenomena to a supernormal origin.

I at once acquitted the boy, Peter, of having any guilty knowledge of the disturbances, assuming they were caused normally. In the first place, he was absent when many of the phenomena occurred; secondly, he has not the physical strength to inflict the damage which some of the furniture sustained. And with a house full of people any suspicious action on his part would have been noticed instantly. And on the one occasion when I saw him, he looked thoroughly scared. Though phenomena of the so-called poltergeist type are often associated with adolescents I am convinced that in the case under review there is no connection between the boy and the manifestations.

More than one visitor to the “mystery house” has suggested to me that the disturbances were deliberately planned by some of the members of the Eland Road family in order to frighten Robinson pere out of the house – for what reason is not stated. But that theory will not stand analysis. Though the most violent of the alleged phenomena occurred when Mr Robinson, Senior, was in residence, the manifestations were afterwards so numerous and disturbing that, as we have seen, Mr Robinson, Junior, was suspected of originating them and was subjected to considerable annoyance and personal discomfort after his father had left the house. And no family would deliberately smash up their home for the purpose of driving out one of their number. Especially when that member is the head of the family and the responsible tenant. And it was after Mr Robinson, Senior’s departure that the remainder of the family were subjected to the distracting attention of the public, police and press.

The incidents of the gas-lighter, the cherub and the soap are still puzzling me. On the three occasions when I witnessed the movements of the objects I could never be quite certain that a normal explanation could not be found for the supposed phenomena. This opinion is shared by another investigator, the Rev. J.W. Hayes, who has sent to the British S.P.R. a report of his visit to the house. Mr Hayes called on me at the National Laboratory and we compared notes. On one occasion when he was at the house a penny was flung into – I think – the kitchen where it fell in the midst of a number of people who were standing there. Mr Hayes did not see where the penny came from, but he had his suspicions. If the alleged phenomena were caused by the inmates of the house they must have produced them for their own amusement because no outsider has come forward with any proof that they were the work of a member of the Robinson family.

The “Battersea poltergeist” has caused considerable excitement in London and the newspapers vied with one another in reporting the progress of the case. Investigators, both amateur and professional have also spent much time in trying to elucidate the mystery – with little success, I am afraid. Dr Woolley of the London S.P.R. visited the place several times, but I have not heard what opinion he formed.

It must be admitted that the problem presents some very unusual features. The removal of the two members of the household, and the suggestion that the early disturbances were caused by the inmates of the sanitorium at the rear of the house, mark the Battersea mystery as being decidedly out of the ordinary run of such cases. I feel convinced, though I have no evidence, that the disturbances were started originally by some of the soldiers who were receiving treatment at the private mental home. That the worry and anxiety caused by these disturbances reacted on some of the Robinson family seems almost certain. Whether this reaction was a normal or extranormal one is, in the absence of further evidence, a matter for speculation. But I consider that the evidence for the abnormality of the occurrences is much stronger than that for the theory that the Robinson family are wholly responsible for the trouble. And there, for the moment, we must leave it.

Journal of the American Society for Psychical Research, Jan-Sep 1928 (v22).

Chapter Eleven – Poltergeists? The House Where the Furniture Danced.

Jane Cunningham hurried down the quiet little street, her raincoat collar turned up against the bitter January wind. She was wondering where next week’s rent would come from. So far, the new year – 1928 – was proving far from prosperous: as a freelance journalist she found herself one of the first victims of gathering depression. She was within sight of her lodgings when she heard a loud crash and a cry of fright. It sounded exactly like a car accident. She wheeled around – but the street was deserted. Could she be dreaming…? She stood very still, listening intently, looking up and down the rows of terraced houses. Just as she was about to turn away a nearby door flew open and a young man in shirt-sleeves ran out. He stood in the middle of the road, looking up and down the hill. Then he turned and ran back into the house.

Less than thirty seconds later Jane was on the doorstep, notebook in hand. The young man eyed her impassively as she introduced herself, then without a word he led her through a long, narrow hall to the back of the house. Standing at the back door, Jane looked out on what might have been the scene of a violent explosion. The conservatory – a lean-to building running the length of the back wall – was smashed in a dozen pieces. The small back garden was littered with broken glass, stones, lumps of coal, pieces of soda and – pennies! In the downstairs rooms she was shown smashed ornaments, splintered furniture and a number of tiny slips of white paper. Her urgent questions brought from the grim-faced young man – Frederick Robinson – a story so strange, so baffling, that for a second time that evening she wondered if she were dreaming.

Half an hour later Jane was telephoning to Fleet Street the first news-story of the many that were to focus world attention on Number 8, Eland Road, Battersea – London’s “Mystery House”; reports which were to bring the country’s foremost expert on psychical research to the scene, and culminate in the Robinson family’s removal to a more peaceful abode. A natural explanation to the riddle of the Battersea disturbances has yet to be found: it remains unsolved – except in the terms of the supernatural. This, despite a mass of well-documented evidence from a large number of wholly reliable witnesses.

The tenant of the house was Frederick’s father, Henry Robinson, an eighty-six-year-old invalid. He had been living there happily for twenty-five years – until the end of 1927, when the weird occurrences began. Besides Frederick – a tutor, aged twenty-seven – the family consisted of three daughters and one grandson. Lillah and Kate were both unmarried and employed as school-teachers. The third daughter, Mrs George Perkins, was a widow who looked after most of the household affairs. The youngest occupant was her fourteen-year-old son, Peter.

On November 29th, 1927, the peace of the house was broken by lumps of coal, pieces of soda and copper coins which rained on the conservatory roof. All the objects were small, but some were propelled with such force that they smashed through the glass. The family were so alarmed that they called the police. A blank-faced constable stood in the back garden with Frederick Robinson, scratching his chin, watching the panes break – but quite unable to trace the line of flight of a single missile… The constable’s confusion was increased when a lump of coal appeared out of nowhere and deftly knocked his helmet over his eyes. With an indignant growl he pulled himself up and surveyed the surrounding area. No one was in sight – and still the bombardment continued. From then on police had orders to keep a special day-and-night watch on Number 8, Eland Road.

On December 19th the Robinsons’ washerwoman, who had served them for many years, gave notice that she was leaving. In a state of terror she showed her employers a heap of red-hot cinders in the outhouse. There was no fire near…

About a week later the household had its worst hour to date – loud bangings in every room, window-panes breaking, ornaments falling from their places. Robinson senior, helpless in bed in an upstairs room, began to call out in fear as furniture crashed over and various articles dashed themselves to pieces on the walls. Frederick went up to quieten him; as he entered, the windows caved in with a noise like a bursting shell. Anxious to move the old man downstairs, the son went to the front door and asked assistance from a passer-by – a Mr Bradbury. Together they carried Robinson senior from the bedroom; as they passed out of the door the heaviest piece of furniture, a large chest of drawers, toppled over and fell flat on the floor. A few minutes later, on the ground floor, another massive piece of furniture “came to life.”  Frederick testifies: “My sister called to me. I saw the hallstand swaying…” He rushed across the hall and got hold of it, “… but some strange power seemed to tear it from my hands and it fell against the stairs. It broke in two parts.”

The Good Samaritan, Bradbury, told police later that Lillah Robinson was “too afraid to stay in the house any longer, but was also too afraid to go up to her room and pack her clothing!” When at last silence returned, the family held a conference. Robinson senior was suffering from shock, and it was decided to send him to hospital. He was borne out of his home on a stretcher a few hours later – never to see it again, for he died in an old people’s ward.

After the sensational headlines of January 15th, when colourful accounts of all these happenings were flashed across the globe, Eland Road was besieged for days on end by reporters, cameramen and foreign correspondents. One morning a middle-aged man shouldered his way through the swarm of pressmen, knocked on the door of Number 8, and handed in his calling-card. He was the late Harry Price, prolific author on psychical phenomena, leading expert for the Society for Psychical Research, meticulous investigator – and deadly enemy of the fake medium, the fraud and the charlatan.

Frederick Robinson spent the next three hours recounting every strange incident that had happened under his roof, and showing his visitor the shambles which had resulted. Price’s report of that first inspection tells of pebbles, coal, potatoes, pennies and pieces of soda littering the conservatory and the garden. Windows were broken “with small holes as if stones had been fired at them.” The glass panel of the interior door was shattered and the wooden panels of another splintered. From the garden Price noted that the windows of two adjoining houses were also smashed. Standing on the back wall he pointed to a building about eighty yards away and asked, “Is that a private house?” He was told that the place was a small “private asylum” and most of the patients were shell-shocked veterans of the 1914-18 war.

An enterprising representative of the Evening News persuaded Frederick Robinson to let him accompany the celebrated investigator on the rest of his inspection. They were in the kitchen when Kate Robinson heard a dull thud. In the passage which connected the kitchen to the scullery they found an eight-inch-long metal ferrocerium gas-lighter with a wooden handle. “Undoubtedly,” Price wrote later, “it had been projected from behind us and had, apparently, struck the wall in its flight. We immediately went back through the scullery and into the kitchen, but no one was visible.” On a Friday morning soon afterwards Price made another visit to the house. But this time nothing unusual occurred.

Shortly before midday Price was attending to other business in the city when the editor of the Evening News telephoned with startling news. Young Robinson had been removed by the authorities to a hospital for observation. The events of that week-end eliminated any suggestion that Frederick was in any way responsible; the phenomena not only continued – they grew more violent than ever.

On Monday morning Price returned to Eland Road and found Mrs Perkins in a state of near-collapse. In strangled tones she told him how, on the Saturday, “chairs marched down the hall in single file.” Three times she had tried to lay the table for Sunday dinner, but each time the chairs leapt on to the table, scattering the crockery. On the Sunday an attache-case had “taken off” from a chair, circled the sitting-room once, then dived to the floor; an umbrella sprang from its corner in the hall and “flew” through the house to the kitchen; a cruet crashed to the ground from the centre of the kitchen table; and when finally the dining-room table was set, it slowly turned on its side, scattering food and dishes all over the carpet.

Price was particularly interested in one detail: both women swore that when they picked up articles which had been mysteriously displaced they seemed unaccountably heavy. There had been in the back of the investigator’s mind from the start the thought that the Robinsons’ experience might turn out to be a classic case of persecution by a poltergeist. The word is German in origin and literally means “noisy ghost.” In his long career Price had investigated hundreds of mysteries in which malevolent, unseen agencies were said to have produced pandemonium; were apparently incredibly destructive and impossible to expel. A common feature in such cases, he knew, was that displaced articles appeared to acquire extra weight.

The events of that week-end had completely unnerved young Peter Perkins. In the past the boy had been inclined to treat every incident as a great novelty, vastly entertaining – so much so that many pressmen had hinted that he might be a brilliant practical joker, organizing the entire affair. But now the lad’s face was white and drawn, and he was obviously afraid to sit down. Fearing for his health, his mother sent him off to stay with relatives in the country. Price, remembering the theory that a sensitive adolescent is the ideal “focus” for a poltergeist’s manifestations, thought it possible that the disturbances might stop with Peter’s departure: but far from it…

A day or two later Mrs Perkins and her sister Kate were talking with the investigator and a reporter named Grice in the kitchen when there was a loud thump in the corner. The door leading to the scullery was closed, but under a chair near it Price found a pair of women’s shoes. Inside one shoe was a small bronze ornament of a cherub which the women immediately identified as an item missing for several days from the mantel of the sitting-room. The sisters were now being driven to utter distraction. Both men were away, lying in hospital – the father dying, the son under grave suspicion. Lillah, too, had gone, ill and terrified. And now young Peter had broken under the strain. On the advice of the police the sisters closed up the house and spent a few days with friends on the other side of London. They returned on Wednesday, January 25th, at 3 p.m. – accompanied by Harry Price, Mr F.G.H. Salusbury of the Daily Express and a famous woman medium who insisted on remaining anonymous. Immediately she entered the house the medium began to complain of extreme cold; and although a fire was soon roaring in the kitchen, she continued to shiver. “This place makes me feel miserable,” she said repeatedly, hunched over the glowing coals.

The investigator and the newspaperman began the most thorough inspection yet made. Taking a room at a time, they minutely examined every article of furniture and each ornament, carefully noting their positions. While they were in the last of the upstairs bedrooms the reporter thought he heard a faint thud: they hurried out and found a large cake of yellow soap in the main passage which divided the upper floor. Both knew it had not been there ninety seconds before. In the kitchen they found the two women still sitting by the fire. They declared they had not moved. Shown the soap, Mrs Perkins at once exclaimed, “That’s from the scullery!”

That evening Frederick Robinson came home – justifiably bitter at his detention. He had been certified completely sane by a panel of leading physicians. Price had been anxious to ask him about the small slips of white paper which, according to some of the Press reports, had been found in the house and garden. But the young man declined to answer any more questions: his one idea was to arrange for the family to move out of the house as soon as possible. And within a few days they were gone.

The newspapers clamoured for Price’s verdict. Had a ghostly vandal wrecked the Robinsons’ home, or was it a case of trickery? Price made a guarded statement. He believed the ex-servicemen patients of the private asylum behind Number 8 could have been responsible for some of the damage: they could have catapulted missiles into the conservatory and through the back windows. But that would not account for the smashed furniture, the overturning tables, the falling pictures and many other incidents inside the house. “I consider that the evidence for the abnormality of the occurrences is much stronger than that for the theory that the Robinsons were wholly responsible,” Price further declared. And so the mystery remained – unanswered. But the last chapter in the macabre tale was not added until thirteen years later.

On March 14th, 1941, the publication Two Worlds carried Frederick Robinson’s own account of events in the “House of Mystery.” For the first time he broke silence on an aspect of the “manifestations” which had intrigued the theorists. The slips of paper, he claimed, had fluttered down “out of nowhere” – apparently materializing in thin air. And some of them, held up to the light, revealed writing “as if done with a pin…” One of these “phantom messages” read: “I am having a bad time here. I cannot rest. I was born during the reign of William the Conqueror” and it was signed “Tom Blood.” Other messages were signed by “Jessie Blood”; some were threatening, some pathetic. “I was an actual witness of these happenings nearly a hundred times…” Robinson declared. But even this gave no hint of a rational solution; repeated investigations have failed to provide the key to the riddle of “the house where furniture danced.”

Unsolved Mysteries – a collection of weird problems. Valentine Dyall, 1954.

Appendix 2. The Battersea Case.

My copy of ‘The Battersea Case’ is my grandmother’s typescript report concerning No.8 Eland Road, Battersea, U.K., where: “disturbances of a supernormal nature are alleged to have taken place…” She prepared this report for the British Psychological Society Symposium II 1932. The following summary covers the main features of her very detailed record. The Society for Psychical Research (S.P.R.) was contacted to investigate the ‘phenomena’ in January 1928, and Eve Brackenbury and Dr Woolley attended the house.

The Robinson family had occupied No.8 Eland Road for 25 years, Mr Robinson, an 85-year-old widower, being the leasee. The old man was senile and apparently a great burden to his children. His four children, and grandson lived with him: daughters Kathleen and Lilla, both unmarried, and a married daughter, Mrs Grace Perkins (a widow with a son 14-year-old Peter), and son Fred aged 40.

The house at No.8 was one of a row of small houses separated by low fences but, “A wall of about 12 feet high runs across the ends of the back gardens belonging to Nos. 6, 8, and 10 separating them from the grounds belonging to a private home for mental cases run by a Dr Cross.” Next door, at No.10 Eland Road, lived the landlord of No.8, Mr H., and his newly married son and his wife.

Eve reports that at the time the trouble began old Mr Robinson needed assistance to wash and dress and was often difficult to manage. His grandson, Peter, was shy, quiet and reluctant to speak to anyone, and had been under treatment for nervous troubles. Eve describes him as “Alternately spoilt and scolded by the women of the household – delicate and cunning.” The family’s future was not secure as in about October 1927 the landlord, Mr H., had said he would not be renewing the lease for No.8 when old Mr Robinson died as his own son and his wife would be moving there.

“In October 1927 the family were annoyed by having coal, soda, potatoes and stones thrown into their back garden.” They, and their immediate neighbours, agreed that as they all appeared to come from the direction of Dr. Cross’ Private Home, some of the patients were doing it for a joke. Fred complained and the doctor promised to have his men watched. The trouble became worse, and windows were broken. In November 1927 disturbances started taking place inside the Robinson’s house as well, such as: tapping noises, a potato thrown breaking a door glass from the inside, and a chest of drawers upstairs being thrown over and smashed. Also, “wherever old Mr Robinson went, he was followed by showers of coal, soda and sometimes potatoes, which seemed to come in some mysterious way through solid walls and closed doors. He became so terrified at last that he wore his hat and overcoat all day, and sometimes took refuge under the kitchen table.”

During November and December, the harassment continued “until the family became so alarmed that on Xmas Day they appealed to the police for protection.” They and neighbours had begun attributing the disturbances to evil spirits or evil forces. “On New Year’s day 1928, the ‘Raid’, as they called it, started at 10 am and continued until the police were sent for in the afternoon… trouble usually ceased directly the police arrived and continued when they left. On this occasion a constable did actually see some coal fall and immediately accused one of the family. They all indignantly denied having touched any coal. After this incident, they were on bad terms with the police who were no doubt getting tired of being worried day and night. By this time old Mr Robinson was too ill to stand any more… and was taken to the infirmary. It was on this day that the reports appeared in the newspapers and the house was besieged all day and for some time afterwards by sightseers, reporters, clairvoyants, spiritualists and even exorcists.”

On 20 January Fred Robinson stated that a small mat from the foot of the stairs had suddenly risen in the air and landed in the room where he was sitting. Eve notes that it would have been quite simple for someone to come down the stairs and throw it into the room. Also, she had discovered that there was the possibility of someone coming across from No. 10’s top bedroom window and entering the Robinson’s via their top bedroom window – none of their windows were ever fastened.

Soon after this incident Fred mentioned to a Police Constable that furniture in his home had been moving about of its own accord and that a door mat had risen up and flown through the air. The Police Constable asked Fred to make a statement at the police station, and after he did so he was taken to a mental hospital for observation. Eve comments that it seemed likely that the police, believing the family themselves were causing the trouble, decided to give him and the rest of the family a bit of a scare. The ‘poltergeist’ case had almost become a public nuisance as crowds collected day and night outside the house and there was continual demand for police protection from the Robinsons.

Eve believed that with the exception of daughter Lilla, the family’s statements were quite unreliable as they seemed “convinced that some supernormal agency was at work.” However, she noted that their “state of mind is hardly surprising when one considers that for weeks they had lived in a state of chaos; people who should have been able to help them put forward the most fantastic theories to account for the phenomena.”

“A County Council science teacher said she was sure it was caused by … an electric beam which was probably being used miles away and which was powerful enough to destroy the entire house and everyone in it; another teacher said that Dr C’s patients had probably employed their spare time in tunnelling under the house and attaching electric wires to the furniture. Even their solicitor, from whom they might have expected at least sane if not helpful advice, said that it was a matter for prayer, adding that he was a Christian.”

The S.P.R. observations then began in earnest and Eve writes: “from Monday January 23rd to Thursday 26th, I was in the house nearly all day and for two whole nights, sometimes alone, sometimes with Mrs Perkins and her sister, Dr Woolley, or my husband, and during the whole of that time only one incident of any interest occurred.” On the Wednesday Eve was in the house on her own and on investigating a curious noise found the elderly woman from No. 6: “not very sober, leaning over the wall jabbing at the scullery window with a long cane… trying to open the window thinking that thieves had got in. She was exceedingly abusive… but it is strange that she chose the one window through which she could hardly see or be seen.” This suggested to Eve another possible source of disturbances.

Eve considered “the probable existence of motives, and the nature of damage done” in the house and wrote: “I felt certain that the supposed phenomena were produced by human rather than super-natural agency, and that there was more than one person concerned. It is significant that the furniture which was overturned was light enough to be moved by one person without exerting much force. I found I could quite easily move it myself. None of the heavier pieces had been disturbed … it seems fairly clear, from the accounts of various neighbours and friends that the trouble was actually started … in the vicinity of  Dr C’s house and garden ….”

“Very soon after the reports got into the newspapers the outside disturbances practically ceased and the trouble inside the house increased. It seems likely that the wild stories circulated by neighbours and friends concerning these happenings suggested to some interested person, either living in the house or having access to it, the idea of continuing the phenomena to serve their own ends.”

Eve discusses the possibilities: the landlord’s son had a motive and could have entered the Robinsons’ home through the upstairs window, and it was conceivable that Fred and other members of the family were trying to frighten their old senile father in order to make it impossible for him to stay in the house. It was noteworthy too that nothing unusual seemed to happen unless Fred or Peter, Mr Robinson’s grandson, were there.

Over the course of the next few days there were apparently more disturbances, and on Saturday 4 February Eve returned to the house after seeing more reports in the newspapers. She becomes a careful observer: “Later in the evening whilst I was sitting by the fire pretending to read, two small pieces of coal hit the side of my head; both came from Peter’s direction and in one case I felt certain I saw his arm jerk …” Peter then left the house at about 7 pm. Mrs Perkins and Kathleen seemed upset and refused to sleep in the house. Both Eve and husband Graham stayed in the house that night and nothing unusual happened.

On Monday 6 February Eve asked the whole family to return and live in the house for two days and nights to give her the opportunity of being there when they were all present; nothing had happened since Peter had left on the Saturday. The family returned the next day and Eve made up her mind to watch Peter’s movements more closely, searching his overcoat whilst he was upstairs and finding that it contained a penny and a halfpenny. During the Tuesday Eve records 20 or so incidents of lumps of coal, stones and onions being thrown onto the floor, or hitting herself and others. She reports: “I tried not to let Peter out of my sight but he proved such a restless creature that, without an assistant, it was not possible to keep him always in view.” At one point, Peter put on his overcoat as if intending to go out, and a few minutes later as Eve turned to find a chair, a halfpenny hit her leg coming from Peter’s direction. Eve wrote that she had laughed and said to Peter she hoped for a penny next time – apparently this had amused him.

Then ten minutes later, when Eve was momentarily distracted, a penny dropped at her feet coming from Peter’s direction. At the first opportunity, after he had removed his coat and left the room, Eve searched Peter’s coat pockets and found the halfpenny and penny were no longer there. She observed the ‘poltergeist’ behaviour for several hours. While pretending to read she saw Peter raise his hand and throw a small stone towards her – apparently, he did this very quickly and cleverly. When confronted at the time his mother quickly answered for him, “Of course he didn’t. He couldn’t.” However, it was quite clear that it was Peter being the ‘poltergeist.’ He showed no fear of the so-called supernormal incidents, was amused at his aunts’ terror and was always in the close vicinity of the source of the projectiles. Eve then divulged her observations to Kathleen but was careful to say Peter was probably not responsible for all the disturbances late last year. Kathleen unfortunately passed this on to the rest of the family as: “Mrs Brackenbury thinks Peter has done everything.”

Eve wrote: “Of course the whole family were up in arms at once … When the announcement was made Peter went so white that I thought he would faint, but he made no defence until the family urged him to. They alternately bullied and defended him until he said at last that he did not remember throwing anything. There was a good lot of indignation at first and every fact I put forward in support of my arguments was met by the same stubborn response, ‘He couldn’t possibly have done it.’ They could give me no reasons to justify the statement. The S.P.R. came in for a certain amount of abuse but gradually they all calmed down and became quite friendly with the exception of Kathleen, who seemed to have taken leave of her senses and remained hostile until I left. That night she wandered around the kitchen talking to herself. Several times she murmured, ‘What will the nation think when they hear Peter has done it. What will the Prince of Wales say? …”

On 9 February Eve talked with Mrs Perkins who was able to believe that her “nervous and troublesome child” was responsible for some of the things that happened more recently. She then divulged “a good deal of information” that Eve believed “would have been very useful” had it been mentioned earlier, that is, “the family were not so united as they pretended to be.” Most of the family were relieved the old man was in the infirmary as he had been an almost intolerable burden, and furthermore they hoped that Kathleen would live by herself when they left the house. Dr Woolley interviewed Peter “who persisted in denying everything in connection with the last two days” but did admit to trying to renew disturbances when they were dying down some weeks earlier. Eve felt that Peter’s denials were driven by fear of being taken away by the police.

Nothing would induce the family to go on living in the house despite the knowledge that it was not haunted. They were determined to be frightened out of the house – the ‘phenomena’ had given them an excuse to leave. They finally took a flat that had no room for the old man, who remained in the infirmary, and so the S.P.R. case was at an end. And so too ends a strange story of deception, fuelled by the covert desire of a family to believe they had a poltergeist in order to relieve an almost unbearable family situation.

Eve’s Journey, 1923, by Gill Brackenbury (2019).