A Great Ghost Hunt By Policemen.
When we say this, we mean it, and it happened in this way. Between a fortnight and three weeks ago, strange knockings, continued from time to time, were heard at the door of No. 9, St. James’s-square, off Manchester-road, and also occasionally in the house, and the inmates at first thought it was only some mischievous boys throwing stones at the door, and Sergeant Sugden, of the branch police-station, kept watch to discover the offenders. But the knocking continued, sounding sometimes as if from the inside, and sometimes from the outside, and from the rooms in the house, until the lives of the inmates were rendered miserable.
That it could scarcely proceed from a ghost seemed clear, because those spiritual visitants only appear to one person at a time, and do not, because they cannot, produce material sounds like those of the Cock-lane ghost, believed in by the strong-minded Dr. Johnson; or those heard in the house of our friends in St. James’s-square; nor are they given to work mischief, like witches of old, who could ride through the air on broomsticks.
But here no visitant was ever seen, and the adult inmates comprised only the master and mistress of the house, and a simple servant girl, and yet the sounds continued, earthly or unearthly. In vain the policeman examined doors and windows, and even if some mischievous lad had thrown a stone or a snowball at the door, that could not possibly have accounted for the succession of noises inside, and for the time the mystery seemed greater than anything surrounding the creations of Gompertz or Professor Pepper. Nay, one strong-minded policeman, who should have been proof against fear, was actually terrified by what he heard outside, and shrank into comparatively little bulk.
Well, this continued for about a fortnight, and the inmates were weary of their lives, when about midday yesterday week, the ghost had grown so bold as to smash a pane in the window of one of the bed-rooms, and thus startled the whole establishement.
Flesh and blood could stand it no longer, and the lady of the house rushed to Police-constable Sugden, and implored his assistance, and that meritorious officer, nothing daunted, and although unarmed with bell, book, and candle, went with her to watch for, and lay the ghost, and on surveying the window, he saw that the pane had, indeed, been broken from the inside.
But was the ghost spiritual or material? for a mere spectre could not work such mischief, and spirit rappers and table turners did not play such unghostly tricks. Well, Sugden believing in material machinery, would watch, and watch he did, all eyes and ears wide awake, and cautioning the utmost silence, he soon heard, moving about, the sound of feet, but in the most gentle and almost spiritual manner – and thus an hour of deep anxiety passed away.
At last another window pane was smashed, but this time in the cellar kitchen window, and Sugden thereupon rushed down-stairs to send the intruder home to the nether world, when lo! he encounters the simple servant girl, her feet shod with indiarubber galoshes, retreating from the kitchen, and exclaimed, “dang thee, I’ve caught thee; thou’rt the ghost. Come along.”
In vain the girl protested her innocence – she had been caught in the act – but what had been her motive for such a strange proceeding? Simply because she wished to be turned away from her situation – and turned away she was, and the ghost has never been heard of since. Such is the story of the latest of our Bradford ghosts, most of whom have been chased away by tall chimneys, railway whistles, and the perpetual roar of machinery.
Leeds Times, 2nd February 1867.