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.