Mysterious tappings at Gulval.
The vicar’s experiences.
As a general rule stories of rappings on the wall and similar mysterious happenings are taken with a grain of salt, so often have they proved to be false or faked. From Gulval Vicarage, however, comes the news of tappings on the wall at night, tappings portending tragedy, and as the story is told by the vicar – a man who on his own admission who is not superstitious nor a spiritualist, and who is beloved by the people of the parish – there is no reason to doubt the truth of these remarkable happenings.
A representative of this paper had been interviewing Rev. C.H.S. Buckley, and afterwards the vicar told him of tappings on the wall – and every tap had meant a death. Never more than one tap is heard in a night, but it has always been followed by news of the death in the parish or some tragic incident in which Rev. Buckley is in some way connected.
The most recent incidents were in last week. On Tuesday night, when in bed, Rev. Buckley heard the rap on the wall. On Wednesday he was informed of the death of Mrs W.H. Borlase. On Wednesday night he again heard the uncanny noise. When he came down next morning he enquired if there was anyone dead in the parish. No one had died, and it seemed as if the taps had been coincidences. But such was not the case, for on Monday Rev. Buckley was at St. Buryan when Mr Andrews fell over the cliff, and Rev. Buckley helped in the rescue operations. So once again tragedy had followed in the wake of the rapping on the wall – if not in the parish this time it was an incident in which the vicar was concerned.
The vicarage is not old as houses go and Rev. Buckley told our reporter that he does not know of any person who has heard the noise before. But he himself has heard the taps several times, and moreover his wife has heard them, so it is no illusion on his part. And every time, without fail, has come the news of death – until now the vicar enquires every time after he has heard the tap.
At first, the vicar was sleeping in a room in the front of the vicarage when he heard the single rap on the wall dividing his bedroom from an adjoining empty room. There was nothing on the wall, such as a loosely hung picture, to cause the noise, for beyond the paper there was nothing on the wall.
Not because of the mysterious raps, but for another reason concerning the cleaning of the house, the vicar, now sleeps in the wing. Yet, at times, the rappings still come… for every rap a death!
Cornishman, 16th May 1935.