A Ghost In Rose Street.
For some time the residents in Rose Street, Edinburgh, or, more strictly speaking, the superstitious portion of them, have had their imaginations exercised by the presence among them of what is believed to be a ghost. The reporter of the Courant has visited the locality where the phantom is said to have been seen, and gives the following particulars, gleaned from those who have had most experience of the unearthly visitor. He first interviewed two gentlemen who reside in a house at No. 153 Rose Street. He says: –
I found them to be men of intelligence, and it struck me not likely such as would be ‘taken in.’ I told them that I wanted to get their opinions in regard to this ghost story. On this they invited me into the room nearest at hand. I asked one of them – I shall call him Mr. A., because I don’t know his name – to give me some particulars. He gave me a statement to the following effect.
‘Six weeks ago Mrs. T. resided in the opposite lobby from where we are now sitting – a woman of eighty-six years of age – along with her grandchild, a young girl. In the course of the six weeks various movements were heard, which could not be accounted for, neither by the woman herself nor by her neighbours. On one occasion, the bed on which the woman lay broke down, and while they were trying to put it up and in order, it went all agee.
The grandchild said to the old woman, ‘What is the meaning of this; I am holding the clothes?’ The old woman replied, ‘Certainly you are not; they are moving up and down!’ Then, again, water came down from the ceiling unknown to the people above, and the old woman and her granddaughter were soaked. All of a sudden, it is said, the woollen cap worn by the old woman was taken off her head, and thrown under the grate by some unseen agency. She rose, took the cap from under the grate, put it on her head, but no sooner was it there than it flew back again to the grate.
Last Wednesday a heavy Brussels carpet was removed from the floor and tossed to the corner of the house. At the back of the door was hung an old wincey gown, which was flung over the woman while in her bed just as if it were like a feather! The old woman naturally became very frightened, and got a neighbour – Mrs H. – to sleep with her. Mrs H., apparently strongminded, did not believe in ghosts, and tried to pursuade the old woman that she was labouring under some delusion. Mrs H., however, found that the room which was on the previous evening left in decent order, was turned upside down in the morning. She also heard the cry of a child as if it were imprisoned in a press.
A lady – Mrs B. – saw a boot being tossed backwards and forwards in the room, and pieces of firewood from a basket were observed rising up into the air and falling in front of the apparently haunted old woman. Her granddaughter also saw some of the old boots thrown backwards and forwards.’
The gentleman who gave the most detailed information went on to say – ‘When I heard of it, I thought it was some person who had made arrangements to frighten the old woman, and I said to her, “I will come and see that nothing takes place to annoy you.”
I asked my friend whom I was interrogating, ‘Did you hear any sound at all?’ He replied,’I never heard anything till last Saturday night, when I heard something like the noise of a child squealing. I was standing with other three men on Saturday night in the street, when they heard the noise. I did not hear it at the time, but I heard it about an hour and a-half afterwards.’ I asked- ‘What was it like?’ ‘Oh!’ he replied, ‘it was by all the world like two children quarrelling, and one of them giving a squeal.’ I said, ‘Was it not like some children skirling down stairs, or in the next land?’ My second friend, whom I shall call Mr B., to this replied, ‘By no means, sir. It came, as it were, out of a press.’
Mr A., my first friend, said, ‘I can assure you I made a search throughout the whole house, and when Mrs S. challenged the voice, it changed its position and came down the “lum” instead.’ Mr A. remarked, ‘I can assure you that I was so much struck with the circumstances that I thought at once of sending for a reporter to detail the mysterious proceedings. I said it was sure to be in Monday’s paper, but I could not see it.’ I then asked the question, ‘Don’t you think that the whole of you have been labouring under a mistake?’ Mr A. answered, ‘I can assure you, sir, there is no mistake about it. There may be a mistake about many things, but there is certainly no mistake about this – that the articles in the room were tossed about. There are downright respectable people who can testify to the facts. I must say that Mrs B. became nervous when she saw the boot moving about from place to place. She is a missionary lady that comes every week.’
At this point I said, “We are next door to the haunted room; can we not get into it? We have here a policeman with his baton, and I am sure there is not much danger – let the ghost squeal as it likes.” Mr A. said, “The woman has removed and the door is locked, and even although we got in, we might have to wait an hour until we should hear it. This forenoon the noise seemed just like the cackling of a hen.” Mr A. further remarked, “There’s another strange thing that strikes me, and it is this — that the old woman had an orange the other day, and the orange peel followed her from place to place through her house, and the same with a piece of biscuit?”
I asked whether there were any historical reminiscences in connection with this building? I was told that it had formerly been a barrack – called the Tontine Cavalry Barracks – in which soldiers were located fifty or sixty years ago. No definite story of a murder or suicide could be described, but events of a suspicious character were described.
My friend said – “I had a crack wi’ the minister the other day about it?” “What did he say about the matter?” I asked. Mr A.’s reply was – The minister did not seem to say what it was; only afore he went away he gave a prayer, and he offered up in his prayer as much as to say that some people had wished the old woman ill, and he hoped that their hearts might be softened, and that they would look to a higher hand for pardon. A medical man and a writer to the signet, I was told, had visited the spot. After having got all the information I could obtain from my friends in this compartment, I asked them if they would kindly show me the rooms where the ghost was to be found. They pointed to a door in a dark corner of the lobby.
I went forward and rapped, and to my surprise a female voice exclaimed “What do you want?” I asked my friends, “Is this the ghost?” “No,” they replied, “this is Mrs H., who will be able to give her personal experiences.” The ghost was within this door, but at the further end of the lobby. I replied, in answer to the question, “Who is there” “I will be glad to have a chat with you regarding the ghost.” “Oh,” cried the voice, “I’ll dress mysel’ and let you in.” Mrs H. by-and-bye opened the door, and in answer to my inquiries she corroborated what had been mentioned by those whom I had previously seen, and she added – “I can tell ye, within the last twa or three minutes I’ve heard sic a noise. On Tuesday last I heard a noise in the house. It was like as if there was a quarrel. It was like as if there was an awfu’ knock-knockin’ in the house. On Thursday the auld woman’s bed was knockit doon, she rose to the sofa, and tried to sleep there, but the pillows were drawn doon; the little lassie tried to bind the pillows thegither, but the wudna stye, they aye gaed awa’. The chairs tumbled ower and ower frae ae place tae anither, and the carpet was tumbled up and moved aboot frae place to place.”
Mrs H. was by this time getting somewhat eloquent, and I interposed by asking here wether she really believed what she had described to be facts. “Deed, sir,” she replied, “There’s nae doot aboot it; I saw the furniture turned upside doon mysel’. Ae day, I took in my stockin’ wi’ me, and a boot cam fleein’ ower oor heads, while a large brass nail cam’ doon on the floor. Six times, I can tell ye, the auld woman’s gown cam’ ower the bed; I took it back each time, and I saw its movements wi’ my ain e’en.”
“How long,” I asked, “is it since you heard the ghost, and in what form did it make itself known to you?” “Oh, sir,” she replied, “I heard it callin’, in a sort of sharp voice, ‘Eh! eh! eh!’ The auld woman who stayed in the house has left it, but I can assure you I still hear the noise. It is a most peculiar thing. I wonder if it’s magic. I was lying in bed jist before ye rapped at the door, and I heard it several times. It’s something extraordinary.”
I asked Mrs H. if she would be kind enough to show me the door of the room in which the ghost was said to perform. She went with us to the end of the lobby, and pointed to the door. I rapped at the door several times, and waited a few minutes for an answer, but no response being forthcoming, I , along with my policeman friend, retired, resolving to make further enquirty into this somewhat mysterious, if not ridiculous, phenomenon.
Edinburgh Evening News, 11th February 1875.
The Rose Street Ghost.
The reporter of the Courant has again been on the trail of the Rose Street ghost, but on his second expedition it will be evident from what follows that he has been more mystified than ever by the explanation he has received of the “mysterious phenomenon.” In concluding his narrative of the inquiries made in the vicinity of the haunted house, he says:-
In the course of conversation with several of the tenants and others in the neighbourhood, I learned that since Mrs T. and her grandchild had left the house no sounds had been heard. I thereupon put the question, “Do you really believe now, after all, that there was any reason for all this hubbub which has caused so much talk and speculation for some week’s past?” “Yes,” she replied. “Do you think we are such fools as not to believe what we hear and what we see?” This reply was followed up in an energetic manner by Mrs S., who said, “There is no doubt about it; I saw it myself; I saw the clothes flying about.”
Turning to another woman, I asked her definitely before leaving – “Now, are you perfectly satisfied in your own mind, after having had several days to think over the matter, that there were any really distinct noises of a peculiar kind that you heard, and were you not mistaken in supposing that articles of clothing were flying about from place to place?” With apparent sincerity the woman at once replied – “No, sir; and my statements can be verifeed; but I can tell ye that there has been naething seen nor heard since Mrs T. left the hoose.”
To make the inquiry as complete as possible, I expressed a desire to see the old woman (Mrs T.) and her grandchild. In response a Mr C confidentially told me that if I would keep her “whereabouts under my thumb” he would take me to her new abode. I gave him my assurance that I would not divulge the secret. Then he went with me to the old lady, and I found her seated comfortably in an “old arm-chair.” She is 86 years of age, yet hale and hearty, and above the average as regards intellect of people of her years. I informed her as to the object of my visit, and she expressed her readiness to give all the information in her power.
In answer to my inquiries, she gave a statement in effect similar to that which has been already published in our columns in reference to the supposed spiritual or “ghostly” manifestations. She then went on to say – “One day a doctor and another gentleman wi’ him called on me at my hoose. They asked me all aboot the business. ‘Weel,’ I said, ‘I dinna ken what it is, but I think it has something to dae wi’ Anderson the Wizard o’ the North and his black airt.’ But they said he was deed. I said to them, ‘Men are gettin’ wiser and wickeder noo-a-days, and I’ve nae doot some o’ them ha’e got his receipts.’ My opinion is that somebody – a scholar o’ his- has been throwin’ something up the stair into the hoose, and that’s been the cause o’t. The doctor said that something o’ the same kind had been frequently done in other houses, and them that did it were flogged for’t.”
A person in the house asked – “Don’t you think your granddaughter, who may have electrical force about her, may have had something to do with the matter?” The old woman said – “Her! naething o’ the kind! Na, na! And then there was the squealin’ that was so very unpleasant ye ken, and used to go on till about twelve o’clock, and then it stoppit.”
IN further explanation of her belief that the Wizard of the North had to do with the matter, she said she understood that Anderson took in pupils, and that it had been some of them who had been operating in the present instance. The throwing of the things through the house, she said, was “quite a divert.” I said it was not likely there was anybody in the building which she had left who had been a pupil of Anderson’s; and besides, they would require machinery in order to perform. It was, however, only by the supposed agency of “some of Anderson’s fouk” that she could account for the disturbances; and she added – “I’m sure it’s no an evil spirit, for no evil spirit would be allowed to meddle wi’ me.” After some further conversation, I left the old lady, who appeared to be quite convinced that the “black airt” had been chiefly instrumental in causing her troubles and annoyances as already detailed.
I may mention that her grandchild, a smart little girl of twelve or thirteen years of age, fully corroborated her statements as to the flying about of clothes and the other incidents connected with the alleged manifestations.
I have now given the results of my inquiries. I trust that the story, from the particulars furnished to me – ridiculous though it may appear – may have interested and amused many readers. It has been whispered to me that detective officers are really abroad on the outlook; and should its apprehension take place, I shall not fail to chronicle the fate of “The Rose Street Ghost.”
Edinburgh Evening News, 19th February 1875.
The Courant’s Ghost.
The Courant has heard of a ghost in Edinburgh, and has been hunting the supernatural visitant by means of a special commisioner. But very naturally, or perhaps in a case of this kind, we should say “supernaturally,” the ghost declined to appear. The terror of being “interviewed,” and interviewed too by a “Special Commissioner” from the leading Conservative organ in Scotland, seems to have proved too much for its nerves, and it vanished into thin air.
But if the “Special Commissioner” did not succeed in finding the ghost he did what was next best – he saw two men who had heard about the wandering spirit, and they told him what a marvellous resemblance to the celebrated story about a cock and a bull.
The haunted premises are in Rose Street, Edinburgh, and their occupants are an old woman of eighty-five and her grandchild a young girl. For six weeks past this venerable person, the lassie who lives with her, and the nieghbours have been disturbed by the “ghost.” The first manifestation reported by the Courant is the following:- “On one occasion the bed on which the woman lay broke down, and while they were trying to put it up, and in order, it went all agee.” This was certainly such a remarkable event that one may wonder whether the grandmother did not say when it occurred, “Drat them sperrits.” Bottled spirits might have produced the phenomena in question – especially the bed going “agee” – but that would not have been supernatural, and where would have been the ghost story?
The next remarkable event in this veracious chronicle is that “water came down from the ceiling unknown to the people above, and the old woman and her granddaughter were soaked.” Truly a most vexatious and tricksy spirit; but if it poured the water down, it must certainly have gone upstairs to do it. There is something droll in the idea of a ghost trapesing “upstairs and downstairs, and in my lady’s chamber” with a ewer full of water. Probably it is a sanitary spirit, and desirous of impressing on the old woman in a practical way the virtue of cleanliness.
The next event is terribly thrilling. “All of a sudden,” it is said, “the woollen cap worn by the old woman was taken off her head and thrown under the grate by some unseen agency. She rose, took the cap from under the grate, put it on her head, but no sooner was it there than it flew back again to the grate.” As Dundreary remarks, “any foo-foo-fool could do that,” and why not a mischievous granddaughter?
Another incident is related which is overpoweringly appalling. The old woman got a strong-minded neighbour who did not believe in ghosts to sleep with her. This dame, however, “found that the room which was, on the previous evening, in decent order, was turned upside down in the morning.” If this last statement were not metaphorical Katie King would have been fairly distanced by the Rose Street ghost. But it is a singular fact, and we daresay it has been noticed by acute observers, that rooms occupied at night have a tendency to wear an “upside down” look in the morning. Still this is the first time that disorder has been accounted for by ghostly intervention, and the circumstance is scientifically interesting.
” A missionary lady, that comes once a week, saw a boot moving about from place to place.” We should feel our hair rise at this, were it not that from anything which appears in the evidence there may have been a foot in the boot, which would render its locomotive propensities less extraordinary. After all, this is rather a “one-horse” ghost. Why did not the Courant, when it was ghost-hunting at all events, turn out some “regular screamers,” a la Mark Twain? What are known as “bag foxes” are sometimes let loose when the genuine reynard is from home. The Courant might have taken a hint from this practice and liberated a firs-class “bag ghost,” which is much more easily found – especially in a newspaper office – than a bag fox is in a cover; and which might have been relied upon to make all the red hair in Scotland stand on end.
North British Daily Mail, 15th February 1875