A Ghost Story.
At the latter end of last and the commencement of the present week, the most strange stories were told of a ghost that had fixed its nightly abode in the office of Mr Lane, the architect, at the corner of Cross-street and St. Ann’s-street. As all children and nurserymaids know, ghosts are of two kinds, the visible and silent, and the invisible and noisy, and this was said to be one of the latter.
A long account of its nocturnal visitations was printed and hawked about the streets, by which we find, that “some suppose it to be the troubled spirit of some person who has been buried in the neighbouring chapel-yard.” This authentic history further tells us, that “various laughable adventures as said to have taken place, in one of which it is said that five men were determined to surround the ghost. They accordingly procured the keys of the warehouse, and took their station in one of the rooms. Presently the dreaded sound approached; it appeared to issue from the floor close to them; nothing, however, was to be seen. This was too great a trial for their courage. They simultaneously took to their heels and with all speed rushed into the street to report the awful tidings to an already terrified assemblage of persons who were collected there. Indeed, one of the men has since been heard to declare that he actually thought that his ghostship had got hold of him and was literally tearing him to pieces.”
The sting of a serpent is in the tail, they say, and certainly the pith of this eloquent narrative lies in the advice couched in the last sentence. “Such is the consternation these sounds have produced, that it is hoped that active measures will be taken for the detention of the ghost, and thereby set at rest the existing alarm.”
Of course, the greater part of this statement is a gross fabrication; but the real facts of the matter are to the full as singular, though perhaps not quite so much to the taste of lovers of the marvellous and horrible. About 11 o’clock on the nigh tof yesterday week Mr Booth, who keeps the Lord Hill public-house, St Ann’s-street (which is separated from Mr Lane’s offices by an entry), thought he heard a noise as of some one walking inside Mr Lane’s office. He gave information at the watch-office, which is distant not more than 50 yards, and Mr Davies, superintendent of the watch, returned with him to the spot. On applying their ears to the window-shutter they distinctly heard the noise of footsteps, as if of someone pacing up and down, then drawers appeared to be opened, and occasionally there was a rustling, as if papers were being examined.
Without making any noise, a watch was kept outside the premises; the keys were procured, and Mr Davies had not the slightest doubt that on their entering the place the thief would be immediately discovered. No such thing. The watchmen searched every nook and corner in the two lower rooms used as a clerk’s office and that of Mr Lane; they went up stairs, but no one could be found, nor was anything disturbed. A porter-cellar below the offices was also searched, but with no better success.
As the noise had been heard by many persons, and as no natural cause was to be discovered, the credulous and superstitious immediately ascribed the thing to supernatural agency, and the vicinity of Cross-street chapel furnished them with a home for “the restless and perturbed spirit.” Crowds of people collected about the place, and as the noise was still to be heard at intervals, hearing was held to be believing, and the watchmen had great difficulty in inducing the people to disperse.
During Saturday the report spread, as such things do, faster than either good or bad news of the ordinary every-day complexion, and on Saturday night, from the hour at which the office of Mr Lane was closed, hundreds of people congregated near the spot, including many pickpockets, who are ever quick at discovering a crowd, and who would ply their vocation undismayed by the presence of a hundred ghosts.
The watchmen, with some difficulty, cleared the street, and Mr Davies being determined to ascertain the cause of the noise, which he supposed to have its origin in a mischievous frolic, placed several of his men inside the office; others within the porter-cellar below; and others again in the entry and yard at the back of the premises. In this way he arrived at one fact which at first sight would seem to favour the notion of a supernatural visitant – viz., that while those who listened at the office window heard the footsteps cross the floor, and, to all perception, evidently approach the window itself, the watchers within, who remained perfectly quiet, heard not the least sound.
But this fact, which to the credulous would have been “confirmation strong as proof from holy writ,” only led Mr Davies into a further investigation. Finding that the tap=room of Mr Booth’s house was the next inhabited place to the office, although, as we have already said, it was separated from it by an entry leading to the yard behind, he directed Mr George Shorland, who was present, to listen at the office window while he entered the tap-room. He paced across the floor two or three times, sometimes slow and sometimes fast, and it was found that the footsteps were again heard with precisely the same variation in pace. This discovery once made, all the pranks of the ghostly visitant admitted of a ready and simple solution.
A noise resembling the rustling of papers could be produced by drawing the hand along the surface of the tap-room table, as guests do when drinking; and pushing the table an inch or two along the floor was found to give the noise of a drawer being opened to the listener at Mr Lane’s office window. This discovery, which was made about 1 o’clock on Sunday morning, might reasonably be thought to have set the matter at rest; but all the assurances and explanations of Mr Davies and the watchmen have not hitherto been able to convince some people of the fallacy of their notion that there is a ghost. They hear the noise, and hearing is believing; so that, unless Mr Booth can be induced to close his tap-room in the evening, crowds will assemble in the streets, and the affair will attain a celebrity inferior only to that of the Cock-lane ghost or some othe requally marvellous tale.
The whole circumstance is, however, a curious one, curious as an illustration of some of the laws of acoustics. We remember being astonished many years ago at finding that the scratching of a pin could be heard distinctly at the other end of a very large and long log of timber, and we doubt not that the noise heard in St Ann’s street is another exemplication of the same property in timber of conducting sound.
It seems that the beams on which the taproom floor rests are connected with others supporting the floors, etc., of the office. The wall of the office, which is an old building, has recently shrunk, cracked, and sunk at the end next the tap-room, and on the stairs there is an aperture, owing to this circumstance, in a situation which is highly favourable to the admission of sound. Without listening at the window of the office, which may be done any evening after it has been closed, no one could have any notion of the complete acoustic illusion (if such a term may be used) which these circumstances combine to present.
Yesterday an over-valiant ghost-hunter was brought up at the New Bailey, charged with wilfully damaging one of the outer doors by kicking at it, in a vain attempt to frighten the ghost .He was reprimanded and discharged. – Manchester Guardian.
The Times, October 19th 1835.