Mystery Knockings and Blue Flame.
Shower of stones from nowhere.
Johannesburg, Saturday.
For three months mysterious happings have disturbed the home of D. Neaves, chemist’s assistant, at Roodepoort. The house stands on a five-acre plot in a lonely part, says the Johannesburg correspondent of the Central News, and according to Neaves there have been strange rappings on the doors at night and the hurling of stones on the roof.
Neaves at last reported the matter to the police, and a white constable and four natives were sent to the house after dark. The “boys” were ordered to stand some twenty-five yards away, and to watch not only the house, but any movement in the immediate vicinity. Hardly had they taken up position when stones again fell heavily on the roof. Neaves and the white constable searched round the house, but could not discover the source of the annoyance.
A little Hottentot girl was then ordered to the garden well with a bucket, the idea being to see if she would draw the attentions of the stone-thrower. She had just got clear of the house when a shower of rock fell near her.
Suddenly Neaves heard a knock at the kitchen door. He tiptoed into the kitchen and stood there waiting close to the door hoping for a repetition. He asked who was there, but the only answer was more heavy knocks, and when he flung the door open no one could be seen.
A native constable afterwards declared that he saw a pale blue flame travel along the edge of the roof and linger outside the door, this being followed by knocking. “It’s spook business,” he said excitedly. Neaves climbed upon the roof, and found dozens of heavy stones.
He re-entered the house and closed the doors. Suddenly the knocking was repeated at the back door. He hurried to the spot to open it, and on doing so was confronted by a native constable, who declared that the knocking had come from within. As they spoke, loud knockings were heard at the front door. This door was, however, also being watched, and the native constable said he had heard the knocking there, but had seen nobody.
Subsequently a party of fifteen, including a police inspector and several constables, visited the house, but failed to solve the mystery. A cordon was drawn round the house, but several showers of stones fell on the roof. There were also knocks at the door, and no one could be seen when it was opened.
Sunday Post, 2nd July 1922.
A Poltergeist Case in South Africa.
A remarkable case of “haunting,” accompanied by rapping, stone throwing and other “mysterious happenings,” is the subject of numerous articles in the South African Press. We take from a long, illustrated account in the “Rand Daily Mail” of May 29th, 1922, the following: –
“In ghosts I have never believed. I won’t believe in them now if I can help it; but we’ve been through some experiences lately which are both terrifying and inexplicable; at any rate neither the police, nor my wife nor I can get at the bottom of them.”
In these terms a young man, Mr D. Neaves, residing at Roodepoort and employed in Johannesburg as a chemist’s assistant, referred to a number of mysterious happenings at his house. These, he says, are being ascribed to supernatural agency. Not only have they created some stir among the white inhabitants of Roodepoort, many of whom declare bluntly that the house is haunted, and that this is but the natural sequel to the constant holding of seances by certain Spiritualists formerly occupants of the place, but the local coloured community, taking its cue from the experiences of the Zulu constables who have taken part in police investigations, seem thoroughly frightened. There are spooks about,” they say, with native readiness to ascribe the Incomprehensible to the Supernatural.
At any rate, the white members of the Roodepoort police, whose help has been sought by the occupants of the house during the past few nights, have been quite unable to trace human agency in the matter, notwithstanding every effort to put an end to a most intolderable situation.
Mr Neaves’ house is situated about a mile north-west of Roodepoort in a somewhat lonely five-acre holding. It is a neat, red-roofed dwelling with white outside walls, and a group of servants’ outhouses lying some twenty yards away. The ground spreads in all directions to a barbed wire fencing, which encloses the entire five-acre property, and serves to protect the stocks of valuable poultry bred by the owner. To the north, the blue shapes of the Magaliesberg bound the landscape, while Roodepoort itself to the south-east is shut off by the steep slopes of intervening ground. Thus the house is somewhat solitary, and the strange rappings on the doors at night, and the hurling of stones on the roof which have gone on at intervals over a stretch of some three months, seem all the more remarkable in view of this isolation.
What are the recent facts? The facts, to begin with, are that last Wednesday night, Mr Neaves, angered by the insistent crashing of stones on his roof, reported the matter to the police, and that a white constable and four natives were sent to his house after dark. The boys were ordered to stand some five and twenty yards away, and to watch not only the house, but any movement in their immediate vicinity. Hardly had they taken up positions when stones again fell heavily on the roof. Mr Neaves and the white constable searched around the house meanwhile, but could not discover the source of the annoyance.
A little Hottentot girl was then ordered to the garden well with a bucket, the intention being to see if she would stimulate the attentions of the stone-thrower. She had barely got clear of the house when a shower of rock fell almost vertically about her, in fact, dropped in the light thrown from the windows of the house, but so vertically that the original direction from which they had been hurled could not be ascertained.
Suddenly Mr Neaves heard a peremptory knock “like a postman’s knock,” as he put it, at the kitchen door. He tip-toed into the kitchen and stood there waiting close to the door, hoping for a repetition. “Who’s there?” he demanded. Another heavy series of raps was the only response, whereupon he jerked open the door. It was a swift movement. Hardly a second intervened between the knock and the opening of the door. Nobody was there.
The native constable watching the place asserted excitedly afterwards, however, that he saw a pale blue flame travel along the edge of the roof and linger outside the door, this being followed by the knocking. Mr Neaves, who is sceptical of the supernatural, climbed upon the roof to ascertain if there were any traces of human handiwork there. Nothing met his scrutiny, however, other than the dozens of heavy stones – relics of prolonged bombardment. He re-entered the house, therefore, and closed the doors. Suddenly the peremptory knocking was repeated at the back door. He hurried to the spot to open it, and on doing so was confronted by an excited native constable, who declared that the knocking had come from within. While discussing the point, loud knockings were now heard at the front door. The door, however, was also being watched. The native guard concerned had heard the knocking there, he said, but had seen nobody. The man seemed to be scared, and wanted to leave the place.
With regard to the knockings on the front door, Mr Neaves pointed out yesterday that he was puzzled to know how anybody could have got away without being seen; for he would have had to make his exit through a gap in the fencing guarded by a constable, who had never left it.
On several occasions since, Mr Neaves, waiting to trap some human door-rapper, stood close to a door and opened it swiftly when the knocking came. For all his celerity, however, he has found nobody, though his torch has flashed swiftly afterwards into very conceivable space. “I am not a superstitious man,” declared he yesterday, “and I am heartily sick of this business, not having had any sleep for a long succession of nights.” In order to ascertain whether dongas or any points of vantage had sheltered stone-throwers, Mr Neaves has been in the habit of leaving his house at dusk – which is when the stone-throwing usually begins – and, accompanied by his boys, of making detours to suspected spots. During his explorations, stones have fallen on his roof, and he has invariably returned without getting any nearer a solution of the mystery.
Investigations were carried on by the police, newspaper reporters and others, but the latest advices we have show that no conclusion had been reached. These cases, as we know, are rarely cleared up to the general satisfaction. It remains to be seen whether in this instance a decisive verdict will be arrived at.
Light, v.42, July 1922.