The Haunted House in Braemore.
A correspondent has favoured us with some particulars relative to the mysterious appearances and extraordinary sounds, to which a house in Braemore, has been for some time subjected. The circumstance has created no little sensation all over the district, and the bare-faced imposition not having yet been detected, a feeling of dread mingled with astonishment begins to prevail amongst the honest simple folks in that quarter.
Some weeks ago the house of a peasant there, had a number of peats thrown into it, occasionally accompanied by quantities of snow mixed with small stones, all of which appeared to enter through the roof and walls, although neither the one or other afforded the smallest facility for their admission. At first the inmates could not divest themselves them of an idea of the game being carried on by some neighbours, for the purpose of diverting themselves at their expense; but, upon investigation, this supposition was found to be erroneous. The continuance of the peat warfare, a second night, occasioned a closer scrutiny into the matter; but although every exertion possible was made to discover the individuals, who thus seemed to take a pleasure in annoying their neighbours, it was all in vain. The report soon spread over the district, and spectators innumerable, gaping for the marvellous, flocked to the spot.
This circumstance, however, did not in the least prevent the recurrence of similar appearances; peats in numbers were thrown in by some invisible hand, and that, too, with a tact and discrimination above all praise – the aforesaid missiles rarely missing to strike some one or other of the visitors, but never in such a way as to cause any injury. The alarm now became general, every hole and crevice in the roof and walls of the house were shut up – every precaution adopted to prevent the possibility of any thing being thrown in – but all to no purpose – the same extraordinary deception being perseveringly continued in.
What renders the matter still more unaccountable, is the circumstance of the peats beginning to make their appearance during the day as well as the night, and of loud wailing cries being heard to issue from the walls. The peats are of the usual description, and make good fuel. Our correspondent says that they seemed to start from the walls, as if by magic. He adds that he has seen and conversed with many shrewd sensible persons, who have seen this singular spectacle, whose honesty and veracity cannot be doubted for a moment, who have declared to him their firm persuasion of the reality of what they have witnessed.
We detail the affair as related to us, not hazarding an opinion as to the causes which may produce this singular spectacle. One thing, however, we take upon ourselves to state, and that is, that there is no supernatural agency at work in this matter – the fairies, ghosts, warlocks, etc., which the honest folks in Caithness, once so implicitly believed in, having taken flight from this intelligent county a great many years ago, to seek an asylum in some less favoured spot, probably on the shores of the Red Sea.
Our correspondent does not mention if the snow showers were discontinued after a thaw. A good many years ago a house in Freswick, parish of Canisbay, was subjected to a similar visitation. We forget how the farce was performed, or if the actors in it were ever detected. We shall feel obliged by any information on the subject.
John o’ Groat Journal, 28th April 1837.
The “haunted” girl of Braemore, and the Halsary mystery.
To the Editor of the Northern Ensign.
Sir, – Some time ago, “A Native of Brawlbin,” by a letter in the Ensign, expressed a desire to obtain accurate information regarding the murder alleged to have been committed at Halsary, and also respecting the Braemore girl, who, as report says, was haunted by some mysterious agent or supernatural influence in a very singular manner. As the latter-mentioned occurrence must have taken place within range of the knowledge of “A Native of Badbea,” I expected he would take it up and treat us to an explicit description of the mysterious phenomenon in his “Recollections,” but as he has not done so, I may give the little I know about it.
The girl, whose name was Murray, was about 14 years of age when the molestations began. Whatever house she happened to be in after dark, unaccountable things were sure to take place there. Peats would suddenly spring from the fire on to the floor, potatoes would leap off the table, and even the table and chairs would make clumsy attempts at having a dance themselves. Bits of turf and other missiles would come flying in at open doors and windows. As neither the girl nor any other person was at any time hurt by the flying and seemingly automatical articles, it would appear that the mission assigned to them was more to annoy than to damage; and although these annoyances followed the girl for a number of years, she was, strange to say, not a bit frightened by them, but viewed the perplexing business with a reasonable amount of coolness.
The cause of it all, says one version of the tale, was that the girl carried part of the broken remains of a coffin out of a graveyard. Another version says that she and another girl disputed, and were belabouring each other with clods, when the other girl’s mother came to the rescue, and told the girl Murray that if she was fond of clods she would get plenty of them by and by. That a supernatural power was at work was at the time the fixed belief regarding it; but the scientifically enlightened philosphers of the present day refuse to swallow this belief, and think that had the matter been thoroughly investigated at the time, an explanation would have been got without going to the misty regions of necromancy for it.
Those that assert that disembodied spirits play such like pranks often, use this singular occurrence as a weapon in defence of their hazy arguments. By the skilful use of certain chemicals a great deal may be done in the way of imposing on superstitious persons who think that everything extraordinary that happens, and which their understandings cannot fathom, must be accounted for only by superhuman intervention. Such is the tale as it goes, only minus some palpable exaggerations. Exaggerations invariably accompany all old tales of the kind, but do not adorn but too often deform them.
It is upwards of 50 years ago since the alleged murder was perpetrated at Halsary, and the circumstances of the case were as follows […]
I am, etc., E.
Westerdale, March 1882.
Northern Ensign and Weekly Gazette, 23rd March 1882.
Similar Case [to Lewis case] Recorded in Caithness.
In connection with the above it may be added that a similar remarkable case is recorded in Caithness. The particulars are given on pages 88, 89, 90 and 91 of “Folklore Gleanings and Character Sketches of the Far North,” the volume by the late Rev. George Sutherland published recently under the auspices of Wick branch of An Comunn Gaidhealch. The chapter is headed “The Haunted Girl of Braemore” and is stated to be “one of the most extraordinary and best authenticated of all the super-normal stories of Caithness.”
The Braemore girl, states Mr Sutherland, was brought up by a bachelor uncle of the name of Murray. I remember seeing Murray in his old age. One day a tramp woman and her young daughter called at Murray’s house, and the Murray girl and the tramp girl quarrelled, and the mother tramp threatened vengeance. Not long after pieces of peat, clods of earth, bits of wood, and such-like, began to pelt the Murray girl, but without hurting her much, if any. Articles which she handled would fly from her and scatter all over the place.
Sandy Gair, the well-known Caithness preacher, regarded as a saint and prophet, was called in, a solemn prayer meeting was held, but the peats, sticks, stones, potatoes, etc., were flying about worse than ever. “They came from every point of the compass, through the walls and the roof, and rose from the floor.” Sandy Gair was struck with a lump of soil while engaged in prayer, and other people present got their share of the flying missiles.
The girl was sent to the house of a friend at Inver, Dunbeath, some seven or eight miles’ distant, but the change of residence made no difference. The same mysterious movement of articles in the girl’s neighbourhood went on. Next she was sent to the house of a crofter-fisherman in Boultach, Latheronwheel – a relative – but here also, peats, sticks, stones, dishes, spoons, potatoes, fish, and all sorts of things with which the girl came in contact, were flying pell-mell through the place. One night the crofter’s son’s bagpipes, with no human hands near them, gave an unearthly skirl and began playing a tune!
Mr Sutherland adds that it is not known how long the trouble lasted, but after a time it ceased. The girl grew to womanhood, married, settled with her husband in Lybster where they reared a fine family, and she lived on to old age.
John o’Groat Journal, 11th February 1938.
Caithness Folk-Tales and Historical Incidents.
Edited by John Mowat, F.S.A. Scot.
1 Folk-Tales on Clod-Throwing.
At the beginning of the eighteenth century* there were stories of strange and mysterious happenings in Caithness, concerning which some believed and others doubted. One of these mysterious and uncanny manifestations was what was described as “Clod-throwing.” There were at least three instances of these happenings which created extraordinary sensations. One was in the Braemore district of Latheron, another in the Spittal district of Halkirk, and a third at Frewick in Canisbay. Each of the cases had this similarity that the afflicted parties were assailed with broken pieces of peat or clods within certain houses and thrown by unseen hands.
The first instance comes from the inland parish where the inmates of a certain dwelling were tormented by clods coming from the burn, and visitors to the house were assailed in the same way. In these days, in many of the country houses, the fire was in the centre and set against a wall known as the “brace,” and in the roof above, was the “lum” which permitted the smoke to leisurely find its way out. This was a very natural way for mischievous boys to find an opportunity to molest the inmates. One night, a doubting neighbour, thinking to waylay the perpetrators and to suppress the scandal, climbed on to the thatched roof and watched the lum. Nothing happened outside, but the missiles continued to fly about the fireside. Then it was the custom for a quantity of peats to be taken into the fire-room during the day and put into a corner known as the “peat-neuk.” It was from here the clods came. Some neighbours came to make light of the whole affair, and for the peat clods substituted potatoes. Next evening the watchers were welcomed by a shower of potatoes. They were now persuaded that it was not the work of human hands. All made for the door, and the owner of the house was left with the supernatural company. It was now decided that something must be done. A consultation was held and it was agreed that a cock should be taken from a neighbouring district and put among the fowls at the haunted house, and a Bible placed above the door. This was done and at night-fall the cock began to crow and continued until dawn. From that night there was no more clod-throwing. Such was the story told by one of the watchers to the narrator many years ago.
The second story, known as “The haunted girl of Braemore,” received considerable publicity and even press notice. The girl, whose name was Murray, was about 14 years of age when the molestations began. Whatever house she happened to be in after dark, unaccountable things would happen. Peats would suddenly spring from the fire on to the floor. Potatoes would leap from the table, and chairs would make attempts to dance. Bits of turf and peats would come flying in at the open door or windows. As no one was hurt by the flying missiles, it would appear the mission assigned to them was more to annoy than to damage, and although these annoyances followed the girl for a number of years, she did not seem to be frightened and accepted the perplexing business with considerable coolness.
There was some attempt at explanation. One was that the girl had removed the broken part of a coffin from the churchyard. Another was that the girl and a chum disputed and were belabouring each other with broken peats, when the mother of her other girl, known as uncanny, appeared and said to the girl Murray, “you are fond of clods, but will get plenty of them by and by.” However it might be explained, at the time there was a firm belief in a supernatural power at work.
The third illustration was popularly known as “Sanny Gray’s Clods,” and at the time created quite a sensation in the county. Sanny was a cobbler, and lived on the Heather of Freswick. For a period he was subject to a curious affliction, never fully explained. It was the general report in the district that “clods or broken pieces of peat would rise from the hearth and strike him in the face. Or as he sat at his work on his cobbler’s stool similar missiles would come down the lum and over the bed, directed at his person. Even the sharp tools on the stool would rise and wound him.” His case achieved considerable notoriety and people came from all parts to enquire into the mystery. The Rev. Robert Caldwell, Independent Minister, was one of the visitors, and it is said that, while he was engaged in devotional exercises, a clod struck him in “‘e sma o’ ‘e back.” Capt. Sutherland was another who decided to call and show his unbelief. He, it is said, was assailed by a fiery peat. A neighbour, an elder of the kirk, also went to sit with the cobbler for a night and during the evening a missile, heavier than usual, landed on the cobbler’s stool, and sent an awl flying, which struck the thumb of the elder and left a mark. For some generations the name of the cobbler was whispered with awe.
Associated with the story was this explanation. Sanny had a servant lassie whom he had cause to dismiss, and did so using an oath. From that time the plague of clods began and continued until the servant left. This was sufficient, and, by the superstitiously inclined, it was believed that the divine wrath had been vented on the house for the rough language that had been used to a young and innocent girl. Such are the tales as they were told.
In ‘Old-Lore Miscellany of Orkney, Shetland, Caithness and Sutherland’ Vol. X. Viking Society for Northern Research. 1935-46.
The Poltergeist Mystery.
Sir, The report of a “poltergeist” case in Lewis and the quotation from “Folklore Gleanings” by the late Rev. George Sutherland, quoted in your issue of 11th February, were most interesting. Mr Sutherland’s assurance that the Braemore case is “one of the best authenticated of all the super-normal stories of Caithness” is true. I remember hearing about the case in my youth, and there was no doubt among the grown-up people then that the throwing of bits of peats, small stones, potatoes, spoons, and articles of crockery at the girl by no visible agency was due to a disembodied spirit of some kind. At any rate no other explanation could be offered.
It may not be known to many of your younger readers that belief in what is termed the “poltergeist” (that is, the pelting or racketing ghost or spirit) is, or was at one time, very widespread throughout the world. There is quite a litereature on the subject, and many of the instances given are similar to the recent incident reported from Lewis and to that of the Caithness girl as described in Rev. Mr Sutherland’s book. Many attempts have been made to account for the mystery, but none of them is entirely satisfactory. The most probable is said to be a certain electrical influence in the body of the molested person, but the details of many cases given in books on the subject would seem to rule out that theory as an adequate explanation. The movement of objects without any traceable cause is still one of those mysteries which have baffled all investigation to account for on natural grounds. So meanwhile we must be content with Hamlet’s well-known speech to Horatio – “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy,” – I am, etc., G.
John o’Groat Journal, 25th February 1938.