A Haunted Man. Weird story of spirit rappings at Senghenydd.
A weird, flesh-creeping story of spirit rapping comes from Senghenydd. James Craze, a collier, married, with two children, seems to be followed by the spirit! The victim now lives at Abertridwr, but formerly resided at 107, Elan-road. He was driven to remove from Elan-road, owing to the rappings. It was distinctly heard – three series of tappings on the wall in succession. In his new house, Craze is still haunted with the spirit!
On Monday night the matter had become so sensational that a crowd of between 400 and 500 persons assembled about the house. The police, together with the Rev. Lloyd Rees, the vicar, went into the house and carried out some experiments. Craze was first of all taken to an upstairs room, and then the rappings – three times – were heard on the wall. The same thing happened in another room, and when the man sat down, the spirit tapped the bottom of the chair. Just before the approach of the peculiar visitor, Craze always gives a deep groan.
During the night the vicar prayed earnestly for peace for the victim. The crowd remained outside the house until 4o’clock in the morning.
Cambria Daily Leader, 28th February 1906.
A Haunted Welshman.
Ghost stories never pall, and the “Daily Chronicle’s” latest from a colliery village near Cardiff, called Senghenydd, will have been read with enthusiasm, no doubt, although it is on rather familiar lines. The “haunted” man is a miner named, suitably, perhaps, Craze, and he is haunted by three rappings. When they are about to come on he gives a deep warning groan, and looks as much like a duck in a thunderstorm as a miner could. Then the three loud raps are heard, and things become normal again. Nothing makes any difference to these raps; he has moved from one place to another, but they have flitted too. The vicar and the police have been with him, and switched the lights up and down; but still – rap, rap, rap! Even a crowd of five hundred people outside the house does not discourage the ghost. We have heard similar tales before, and from the time of the Cock-lane ghost onward many of them have been proved to be impostures. But there are still those who believe in the genuine “spook,” with its futile and senseless passion for playing postman’s knock. The spook, they must surely believe, is ex officio a lunatic.
Pall Mall Gazette, 28th February 1906.
Haunted Collier.
A nocturnal seance in the “ghost” house. Craze said to be under a spell.
Our Rhymney district reporter was one of a party who kept vigil during the early hours of Wednesday morning at Elan-road, Abertridwr, the late residence of the reputed “haunted man.” The watchers included Dr. P. James, a popular medical man in the district; Rev. D Roberts, Baptist minister; Rev. Gomer Rees, curate-in-charge of St. Peter’s, Senghenydd, who was one of the party that heard the rappings on the previous day; David Lewis, a painter; and Mr. Hugh Williams, a spiritualist, together with P.S. Williams and P.C.s Evans and James.
The visitors found Craze at a house in High-street. His features were distorted, and he gave unmistakable evidence that he is undergoing severe mental strain. Kneeling at his side was the wife, a young woman of about 22. On Craze seeing the faces of the strangers he swooned. This at once put the women into a great commotion. Shrieks of “There he goes again,” “Oh, mama,” and other ejaculations could be heard above the general hubbub. Craze when fully recovered was asked if he would accompany the party to Elan-road. Before, however, he could give his reply the wife vehemently declared in Welsh, “No, no, he shall not go; they are worse than dogs here,” referring to the crowd around the house.
The sobbing wife told us, continues our representative, that her husband had been out of work a great deal, and when at last he was given work he had to go to the pit with dry bread to eat. “Plenty are coming here now,” she said, “but they did not care if we starved a week ago. They knew that for a week we had only dry bread.” […]
South Wales Daily News, 1st March 1906.
Haunted by Rappings.
Midnight Watch for the South Wales Ghost.
Story of the vigil.
From our own correspondent, Cardiff, Wednesday.
Other investigators have now attempted the task of laying the Aber ghost, though the Curate of Senghenydd, one of the original investigators, has by no means abandoned the task. The problem is this, that James Craze, a collier, declares that for weeks past he has been haunted by mysterious rappings in every house in which he has taken up his abode. He has changed houses twice, and still the rappings follow him. The last house, the one around which the present sensation centres, is at Elan-road, Aber [Ilan road Abertridwr].
Here, on Monday night, Craze, who is a young fellow of thirty or so, and who has spent nine years in the Army, was visited by the Rev. Gower Rees, the Curate of Senghenydd, Mr. David Lewis, Police-Sergeant Leyshon and Police-Constable Evans. All four in an interview declare that they heard the rappings. They first experimented in company with Craze, in one of the bedrooms. The raps were loud and clear. Next, in the kitchen, David Lewis sat on a chair with Craze on his lap, Craze’s arms and legs being pinned. Still the same mysterious sounds were heard, this time underneath the chair. Mr. David Lewis states: “Craze had not been on my knee more than a minute or two when he fainted away. A second or so later we heard three distinct raps underneath the chair. It was impossible for Craze to have produced the rappings himself.”
The second investigation took place last night, when a party of investigators kept vigil in the Elan-road house all night. The watchers included Dr. Philip James, a popular medical man in the district; Rev. David Roberts, Baptist minister; Rev. Gower Rees, who was one of the party that heard the rappings on the previous day; David Lewis, a painter; and Mr. Hugh Williams, a spiritualist native of Llwyngwril, Meironethshire, together with Police-Sergeant Williams and Police-Constables Evans and James, and two newspaper reporters.
On the way they called at the house in High-street of Mrs. Craze, the haunted man’s mother, where the poor fellow has taken refuge since his flight from Elan-road. A great crowd had assembled outside, adn the visitors found unmistakable evidence that Craze was undergoing a severe mental strain. Kneeling at his side was his wife, a young woman of twenty-two, and Craze was recovering from a swoon.
He was invited to accompany the investigators to Elan-road, but before he could reply the wife frantically clutched her husband and exclaimed, “You shan’t go, Jim.” The visitors had to depart without him,and presently were all inside the haunted house armed with darkened lanterns. Midnight and one o’clock passed without incident. The explorers, who had so far sat in the kitchen in darkness, sent a few of their number to one of the bedrooms, where they remained half an hour without any result.
“Then,” according to the story of one who was present, “a peculiar suggestion came from Mr. Hugh Williams, who professes to have spiritualistic abilities. He volunteered to go upstairs alone, and securing general consent he went lamp in one hand and Bible in the other. We waited in silence for a few minutes and then the suspense proved too much for the police-sergeant and myself. Softly creeping up the stairs we found that Mr. Williams had located himself in the front room, and was using a table for rapping purposes. In fear of disturbing this uncanny performance we retreated and waited with the others for fully a quarter of an hour ere the spiritualist reappeared. Lights up revealed his disappointed countenance. He said he was convinced that the house was not haunted, but that he should like to stay in it by himself another night. ‘There is nothing attached to this house. I cannot find anything here,’ he declared.”
It was now 2 a.m., and the party decided to leave the premises, as it was evident the spirit was in coy moon, and that there would be no rappings on this occasion. Possibly there was a disturbing element present. On their way back the party again called upon Craze, who was recovering from another swoon. In conversation he alleged that some time ago he heard groaning in a corner cupboard. Again on Friday last he distinctly heard mysterious knockings in the coal house. Later the same night when he and his wife were in bed they felt a severe shaking of the bed. They lay quiet for a few moments. Then the tremors of the bed were repeated. They both jumped out, and hurried into another room, in which slept Mrs. Craze’s mother, and here they stayed for the remainder of the night.
Craze protested to his visitors that he was haunted, although he had never wilfully done anything wrong in his life. He went to the house with the party on Monday night to convince unbelievers, but he would not go there again for a hundred pounds. A sister of the victim, Mrs. Louisa Jones, maintains that a person, whom she named, had put a spell upon her brother. Craze is now staying with his mother at 176, Caerphilly-road.
London Daily News, 1st March 1906.
The Haunted Man!
Lying in wait for a ghost. Abertridwr villagers scared by the mystery.
Paraffin hawkers are assured of a good time in Abertridwr Valley in future, as the inhabitants are so scared over the ghost mystery that nearly every house is lit up in each room through the dark hours of the night. Hearing of the excitement, a “Western Mail” representative paid a visit to the district, and journeyed up to Senghenydd by the last train. The only person who greeted him on the platform was Police Sergeant L. Williams, who informed him that Dr. Philip James and the Rev. Gwilym Rees – who, by the way, has already proved himself not only an experienced, but a gritty ghost chaser – were anxious to visit the haunted house.
There are three houses connected with the story, and to enable readers to grasp the details it is necessary to state that the house supposed to be haunted is in Ilan-road, Abertridwr, that James Craze now lives in High-street, Abertridwr, and that Mrs. Craze’s mother resides in Caerphilly-road, Senghenydd.
To avoid attention (writes the reporter) we made our way to High-street, in a sort of Indian file, and were disagreeably surprised to find the place swarming with the curious. Colliers with Davy lamps lit were there in good numbers, and, of course, women also. We pressed through the crowd into the back room, and beheld a strange sight. The house was bereft of furniture, but seated upon a box in front of the fire was Mr. Craze, surrounded by his wife with her six months’ old babe and a host of sympathisers. The Rev. G. Rees advanced and shook hands with Craze, but hardly had he done so than the poor fellow suddenly fell back in a dead faint.
Confusion naturally reigned for a time, and the young wife cried out in Welsh, “No; he shan’t go down to the old house again.” A glance around the room revealed a pathetic state of affairs. The ornaments on the mantelshelf were a very mixed selection. A basin of water, a broken alarum clock, and a baby’s pair of shoes completed the set. I asked Mrs. Louisa Jones, a sister of Craze, if she had any stimulant for her unconscious brother, and her reply was bitter in the extreme. “We have not a scrap in the house,” she crid; “Jim has not worked for the last eleven weeks.” I sent a man to the nearest hotel for some brandy, and meanwhile Police-sergeant Williams endeavoured to induce the wife to allow her husband, as he was recovering, to accompany a selected party to the house, in order to solve the mystery. Mrs. Craze, however, was not to be persuaded, for, clutching her husband lovingly, she exclaimed, “You shan’t go, Jim.” There was nothing, therefore, left for us but to quietly slip from the house and make for the “haunted” building.
By this time our number was augmented by Police-constables Sam Evans and James and the Rev. David Roberts, Welsh Baptist minister. Floundering through dimly-lighted streets, we reached the untenanted house, and found an unexpected difficulty awaiting us. A new lock had been recently placed on the door. We overcame this trouble, and entered. Once inside, I took advantage of a flash of the police-sergeant’s lantern to glance at my surroundings. Everything, to my apprehensive gaze, seemed uncanny. A table stood on end in the back kitchen, and another table and a few chairs completed the furniture.
The time was then near midnight, and “lights out” was the low command. Hardly had the request been obeyed when a loud rat-tat was heard – on the front door! Police-constable Evans answered the knock, and we then had two new arrivals in the persons of Mr. Hugh Williams, Senghenydd, a member of the Welsh Calvinistic Methodists, who is a native of Llwyngwril, Merioneth, and Mr. D. Lewis, the plucky painter who held Mr. Craze to the chair the previous night. Befitting the occasion, ghost stories of the most soul-chilling character were then indulged in, Dr. James and Mr. Hugh Williams especially, figuring in personal experiences. Eventually, the Rev. G Rees suggested that a fewof the party should visit the bedrooms, and this move was adopted, myself and a few others remaining downstairs near the condemned cupboard in inky darkness. Half an hour passed and nothing transpired, so the explorers returned to the ground floor. Then a peculiar proposition came from MR. Hugh Williams, who professes to have spiritualistic abilities. He volunteered to go upstairs alone, and, securing general consent, he went, lamp in one hand and bible in the other.
We waited in silence for a few minutes, and then the suspense proved too much for the police-sergeant and myself. Softly creeping up the stairway, we found that Mr. Williams had located himself in the front room, and was using a table for rapping purposes. In fear of disturbing this uncanny performance, we retreated, and waited with the others for fully a quarter of an hour ere the spiritualist reappeared. “Lights up” revealed his disappointed countenance, and he firmly said that he was convinced that the house was not haunted, but that he should like to stay in it by himself another night. It was now past two a.m., and, on the suggestion of Sergt. Williams, we decided that it was no longer worth waiting for developments without the assistance of Mr. Craze.
On our way back to Senghenydd we visited Mrs. Sarah Stephen’s house in Caerphilly-road. Mrs. Stephens is the mother of Mrs. Craze and we found Mr. Craze reclining on a couch near the fire, with his wife kneeling at his side. The pathetic side of the picture was then revealed to the fullest extent. Craze now and again started up from his semi-conscious condition, and seemed in an intense state of nervousness. The wife told us that neither of them had slept for a week, and when her husband worked he had nothing but bread to take with him, and sometimes not even that. By and by Craze came to himself, and he was able to relate a story of his experiences, which was thrilling in its intensity. He said he only went down on Monday night to the Ilan-road house to convince unbelievers, but he would not go there again for a hundred pounds.
The married sister at this juncture burst in with a vehement assertion that her brother had been placed under a spell, and it was then considered opportune for us to withdraw from the house.
The Rev. Gwilym Rees, curate-in-charge at St. Peter’s, Senghenydd, said in an interview:- “There is something there, but what it is I can’t make out. Some of the noises are just like the knocks of a postman. The most astonishing part is that on Monday night we were all around when the sounds were heard, and when the thumps came on the partition wall of the bedrooms upstairs I was standing by the side of Mr. Craze, and Police-constable Evans was on the landing to see that no one was outside. We searched the other bedroom immediately, but nothing was to be seen. Mr. Craze, under the circumstances, has behaved very courageously.”
Among the suggestions put forward to solve the puzzle is that a species of mosquito may have emitted the sounds. A hundred other solutions are offered, but none seem feasible.
Cambria Daily Leader, 1st March 1906.
Abertridwr ghost scare.
Prayer meeting for peace.
The Abertridwr ghost scare retains its fascination for many of the residents of that district, but there is little now to record. On Thursday night further efforts were made to induce Mr Craze, the victim of the mysterious rappings, to accompany a party to the house which he had occupied in Elan-road for further investigation, but he declined the invitation.
On Thursday night a prayer meeting was held at th ehouse, the principal supplication being for peace.
Another investigation party made a midnight visit to the supposed haunted house on Thursday night, among them being Councillor E. Evans. They kept vigil till 3 o’clock this morning, without observing sign or sound unusual, and discovered nothing to elucidate the mystery.
Local interest in the affair continues unabated, and a crowd again gathered in the vicinity last night.
South Wales Daily News, 2nd March 1906.
A Queer Story From Wales.
The people of Senghenydd, a colliery village a few miles from Cardiff, remembered as the scene of a terrible colliery disaster a few years ago, are getting diversion in their leisure out of some “mysterious rappings,” which are heard in a house in the village where a collier lives with his wife and three children. These noises apparently follow the man from one house to another. On Monday night a crowd of four or five hundred people surrounded the cottage to which the family removed last week, while a Welsh vicar and Police Sergeant Evans carried out some experiments. Under their guidance the man was taken to an upstairs room.
The raps were distinctly heard, it is said, upon the wall. The lamps at this time were turned out, but the officers turned their lamps on suddenly in the hope of being able to solve the mystery. There was, however, nothing to be seen. The man was then placed in another room, and after a wait in darkness of a few minutes the rappings were again heard – on this occasion, it was thought, from a cupboard. Next the man was put to sit on a chair in the centre of the room. Here again “strange sounds” were audible, but this time underneath the chair.
After the experiments the vicar prayed earnestly, and the man too appealed for peace. In fear of being mobbed by the people under the belief that he is a haunted man the victim has placed himself under the protection of the police.
Cumberland and Westmorland Herald, 3rd March 1906.
Case of the haunted man.
The search for the ghost who raps.
Are the sounds produced by human agency?
Abertridwr, Friday night.
The strange case of the haunted miner’s cottage at Abertridwr grows stronger the more closely it is examined. James Craze, the miner, who is the tenant of the house, wanders about the village almost paralysed with fright. It is stated – and the statement is supported by independent testimony – that his presence in the house coincides with the recurrence of strange noises in his immediate vicinity – noises arising from causes which at present it is impossible to understand. True it is that uncanny noises had been occasionally heard in the house before his occupancy; but they have not occurred with anything like the frequency or definiteness as when he is present.
People watched and listened in the house during his absence, but heard nothing. Much against his will he was induced to go with the local clergyman and two of the local police to the haunted house between the hours of 12 and 2 a.m. He was hardly inside the place before distinct, loud rapping was heard on the interior of the wall of the room he was in. The house was immediately thoroughly searched from top to bottom without finding a trace of another person.
Another experiment was made. He was put in a chair in the middle of the room, and a member of the company held his hands and body so that there should be no avenue for fraud. Two minutes later there came three distinct, loud raps on the wooden bottom of the chair on which Craze was sitting. Then Craze fainted.
Since that final experience no power is sufficient to induce him to go near the house again at night. A thorough examination of the house and of the responsible persons present at the natural or supernatural manifestations leaves little doubt that Craze is telling the truth, and that he is practising no deception in the matter. Craze is a slightly built young fellow of 25, with big hazel eyes set in a thin white face. In his eyes is a hunted, shrinking look, and beneath them are those furrows of pinky black which tell of sleepless nights and constant worry.
I saw today the Rev. Gwilym Rees, a Church of England clergyman at Senghenydd, a neighbouring village. He was present at one of the demonstration in company with a dozen others, including a police-sergeant and a police-constable. “I went to the house,” said Mr Rees, “because I had known Craze for some time, and he had come to me in his distress about the matter. I was utterly sceptical. I came away fully convinced that the sounds I heard were not produced by human agency. The knocks were long and resounding. We saw nothing to account for them at the moment we heard them, nor could an exhaustive search of the house throw any light on the matter.”
The police-sergeant present at the same time told the same tale. “Craze was taken over to near the fire-place and placed on the lap of a man, who held him tightly round the body. Suddenly there came two resounding knocks from the cupboard in the chimney recess, a few feet from him. The blows seemed to come from the interior of the cupboard, and the unfastened doors shook violently. They were immediately flung open, and the interior o fthe cupboard examined, but it was quite empty.”
“Yes,” said another constable, “and the blows were not taps; they were like the kick of a horse.”
I spent last night and the small hours of this morning in the house, but without hearing any of the ghostly messages. The house is one of a terrace erected a few years ago. It has six rooms. The cupboards are flimsy affairs, about a foot deep, with the shelves running back to the wall.
Abertridwr tradition has it that a quarry on the site of the haunted cottage has from time immemorial been the scene of the night walk of a ghost. – “Daily Mail.”
Cambria Daily Leader, 3rd March 1906.
A Haunted Man. Parsons and police puzzled by a ghost.
A story of ghostly rappings is exercising the people of Senghenydd, and has defied the investigations of the police and of the Vicar of Eglwysilan, who have both done their best to elucidate the mystery. The noises seem to follow a collier named James Craze. He has twice changed his residence to avoid them, but in vain. The matter got to the ears of the police through his complaining to them that he was in danger of being mobbed by neighbours for floating the ghost story.
Two constables decided to investigate the circumstances, and late on Monday night, accompanied by the Rev. G. Rees, vicar, went upstairs and turned the light out. Hardly had they done so when three loud raps on the wall were heard, this time from the cupboard. Hastily opening the cupboard, the police turned on their lanterns, but nothing was to be seen. Then an experiment was tried. Mr David Lewis sat on a chair in the centre of the room, and Mr Craze sat on his knee. Again the light was turned down, and this time, to the general surprise of all, three more raps were felt underneath the seat of the chair. Mr Lewis said that a few minutes after being on the chair he felt the man was fainting away. It was impossible for Craze to make the noise himself.
The remarkable part of the mystery is that the police-officers and the rest of the party are convinced of the genuineness of the raps, but they are only heard when Mr Craze himself is present. Craze appears to have a peculiar presentiment of the approach of the visitor, for he gives a deep groan, and his features are drawn and strange, and a wild look comes into his eyes. He says the groaning is involuntary.
After the carrying out of the experiments the vicar prayed earnestly, and Craze, too, appealed for peace.
Before going to the haunted house again next day, the company went to the lodgings in which Craze has taken refuge, and were startled to see Mr Craze fall back in a fit. After he had recovered his wife would not allow him to accompany them. On the arrival of the company at the house, an hour was spent in telling ghost stories. Then Mr Hugh Williams, a member of the Calvinistic Methodist Chapel, asked permission to go upstairs to conduct investigations by himself. He produced a Bible, and took a lamp up with him to the front room. here he remained for fully fifteen minutes, but, notwithstanding the ghost stories, no sound was heard.
Craze has received a letter from a professing Spiritualist at Cardiff. It was probably a joking message, but it influenced him strongly. The letter read:-
“National Society for the Prevention and Removal of Ghosts.
Dear Sir, – Having read the article yesterday I at once communicated with our secretary of the spirit world. He has informed me that one spirit which has visited you at your residence at Aber is a man who was a blacksmith, and lived at Abertridwr in the year (1864?). He has now come back, and has seen some bottles of Bass in your house, which he has been sampling.”
The mother of Craze, a thin-faced, shrivelled little old woman, shaking a thin forefinger sadly at her son, says: “I’m awful afraid he’s not long for this life.” Sympathisers round dared not disagree with her, because all were convinced of the supernatural nature of the recent manifestations.
Empire News and the Umpire, 4th March 1906.
Shadowed by a Ghost.
Haunted Man’s Weird Experiences.
To be a haunted man, accredited by competent witnesses, is a spiritualistic privilege of the first class. Up to now, in fact, there has been no officially authentic case. This psychic “blue ribbon” seems to have fallen to the lot of James Craze, a collier, of Senghenydd, in Wales, a young married man with two children. He possesses a ghostly companion who follows him from house to house, making weird raps on walls and furniture.
A fortnight ago, when he was living in Elan-road, Aber, the ghost made its first demonstration with three distinct raps on the wall. The noises continued till he could stand the strain no longer, and without waiting to pack up his furniture he moved to High-street, Senghenydd.
Like a faithful dog the “haunt” followed him. The neighbours grew annoyed. Here was a man, said they, who, in effect, goes about manufacturing haunted houses. For fear of being mobbed he applied to the police. They, in conjunction with the local ministers and a noted ghost-hunter, Mr Hugh Williams, of Llwyngwrt, Merionethshire, sat till two o’clock in the morning investigating the case.
Wherever Craze was, raps were. Before they came he groaned and writhed as though in pain, saying he could not help it. He went out of the house while Mr Williams and the investigating committee conducted a search and a seance – and no manifestations whatever were forthcoming.
Credible witnesses have heard the raps, some of which were made under a chair on which Mr David Lewis sat with Craze upon his knee.
At the Society for Psychical Research, a “Dispatch” representative told the story of the Senghenydd haunt, and asked what comment spook science could make. “A haunted man?” was the surprised reply of the expert. “We should like to find one! The evidence for haunted men is very weak – altogether weak; we have no authentic case; you only meet them in fiction. The Welsh collier is probably what is called a sensitive, or a medium, and the raps are ordinary manifestations, but until the case has been thoroughly looked into no definite statement can be made. The only instance of a haunting I know I cannot vouch for, further than that it was told to me in good faith. My informant was travelling in an omnibus – everything seemed prosaic and ordinary. Suddenly a passenger sprang up, and, with a terrified look on his face, hurried out. ‘Why did he get up and go like that?’ was the immediate and natural question. “Can you wonder at it?” replied a lady, “when that malevolent, evil-eyed man was sitting staring at him? And he followed him out, too.” No one else had seen the malevolent man.
“Find the runaway, and you may find a piece of truth stranger than fiction. Our records contain nothing authentic or analogous. Haunted places in plenty, but of haunted men no evidence worth speaking about.”
[some other weird stories follow]
Weekly Dispatch (London), 4th March 1906.
Abertridwr Ghost Scare.
“Haunted” man boycotted. Not permitted to resume work. Collier workers’ superstition.
Despite every inducement to make further appearances, the Abertridwr ghost remains coy. Extended search meetings have been held in the house in Elan-road, and sympathetic and unsympathetic invitations have been made for additional rappings, but all without avail. Meanwhile Mr. James Craze, the victim of the alleged manifestations, is now a victim in a more material sense, for on Wednesday Mr Craze informed our correspondent that whereas before the recent ghost scare he was in regular employment at one of the local collieries, he is now, owing to the prevailing superstition that he is haunted, debarred from descending the shaft.
The resident manager personally is perfectly willing for Craze to resume work, but the colliers in the district have made representations that the presence of a “haunted man” in the colliery would be a foreboding of evil, and, in compliance with their wishes, he has declined to allow Craze to go down the pit. For over a week, therefore, Craze, who is a married man with a family, has been unemployed, and little practical sympathy has been offered him. He has received many letters of advice – but no enclosures.
When our representative visited him on Wednesday he was in excellent health, and produced an enormous bundle of correspondence. The letters come from all parts of the country, and offer every imaginable form of advice for solving the mystery. Nearly all of them, however, are anonymous. One of the writers recommends Craze to place a number of knives under the bed, adding that this “cure” had proved effectual in the case of a child who was alleged to be under a “spell.” Another correspondent, writing from London, under date March 4th advises Craze, whether he be a Nonconformist or not, to consult a Catholic priest, remarking that “one of the faculties that a Catholic priest possesses is that of exorcising evil spirits.”
South Wales Daily News, 8th March 1906.
Taunting a Ghost. Abertridwr, in Wales, is perplexed at a ghost which knocks on doors, but, despite taunts, refuses to show itself. The ghost has been heard by Mr Craze, photographed above.
Daily Mirror, 8th March 1906.
The Welsh Rapping Ghost.
Craze, the Collier, Nearly Driven Crazy.
Curate’s weird story.
In all the annals of ghosts, spirits, spooks, or brownies, and their performances to frighten timid mortals, it would be hard to find anything so uncanny as the conduct of the ghost that has been haunting the Welsh collier who bears the somewhat singular name of James Craze. For weeks all Wales has talked about the mysterious affair, either ridiculing the ghost as “water in the pipes” or “rats” in their peregrinations, or – for superstition still stalks the emotional Principality – shuddering in solemn fear of the phenomena.
The Rev. Gwilym Rees, curate-in-charge at Senghenydd, near Cardiff, has investigated the mystery, and furnishes a graphic account of his experiences. His conclusion appears to be that the rappings are the work of no human agency. This is what he says:
“James Craze called upon me about two months ago in a very excitable state and with a sad story. He was out of employment, and his family had not a morsel of food in the house. I went there at once and found things as stated. This concerned me very much, and I did all I could for the family under the circumstances. In a few days work was found for Craze, and at the close of his first day’s work he came straight from the colliery, out of his way home, to thank me for what I had done for him.
“Now for the mysterious knockings. Last Thursday fortnight (February 22) Craze, his wife, and a young man came to my house in the afternoon; they begged of my wife to ask me to go down that evening as they had not been able to sleep the previous night owing to some mysterious rappings! I took a friend with me about twelve midnight. After listening to their incredible tale, I asked Craze and his mother-in-law to go upstairs. They complied, we heard them distinctly entering each room. We heard two very loud knocks on one of the doors upstairs; we were at the time standing at the base of the staircase. We at once went up and endeavoured to calm Craze and his mother-in-law, whom we met coming down, shuddering with fright. I called out in the name of God for an answer by knockings to some serious questions which I put to the supposed ghost.
“Receiving no reply, I put it very plainly to Craze that he must have been guilty of some crime, and asked him to confess. He vehemently declared, with tears in his eyes that he had nothing to confess. After a short time had elapsed I asked them to go once more, which they did, with the same result. Again we went upstairs, and asked in the name of the Holy Trinity for a revelation of the mystery, but to no purpose. By this time three young men had come in from next door. I asked them to go upstairs. No sooner had they entered one of the bedrooms than the mysterious rappings again took place. My friend and I left, not at all satisfied, as the rappings did not take place in our immediate presence.
“The following morning Mrs. Craze and two men came for me at half-past two. Having been told that the knockings took place only between twelve and two, and also that it was their intention to leave the house that morning. I declined to go. The following Monday evening I called to see Craze at his new house, which I found overcrowded, and hundreds of people outside. I made my way into the house, and found Craze prostrate on three chairs, the only furniture in the house. When he came to himself he informed me that the ghost had followed him. I reprimanded him for his superstition, and took the family to the house of his mother, who lives a little distance away. When we arrived at his mother’s house Craze told me that he intended going that night to the old house with twelve men to convince them of the existence of the ghost. I promised to call later on, which I did about twelve o’clock.
“I found two constables, who urged me to go with them to Ilan-road. Craze and wife led the way, followed by about twenty men. On our arrival we found a large crowd outside, the inside of the house being crowded. I advised the officers to have the house cleared. They left only about fifteen inside. Having locked the doors, we proceeded upstairs, searched everywhere, and satisfied ourselves that the house was clear. We went downstairs, when the same process took place, with the same result.
“I now asked Craze, the constable, and another man to accompany me upstairs. The constable stood on the landing while we entered one of the rooms. Having closed the door, my friend and I held Craze on either side by the hand. We stood about a yard from the wall. I said to Craze in a loud voice, ‘I am now going to tap the wall, so don’t be alarmed.’ After doing this, silence reigned supreme for about a minute, which was broken by two knocks on the partition, which were heard even from downstairs!
“Craze now became unmanageable, and made a rush for the landing, where the constable stood like a statue, and declared that no one from outside had caused the noise. We prevailed upon Craze to enter the room once more, when the same mysterious rappings took place. We now went downstairs, being fully convinced of the mystery. I asked Craze in the presence of all: ‘From what cupboard did you hear the voice emanating last week?’ He pointed to the one on the right side of the fireplace. I asked him to sit near the cupboard; this he did. I also requested that some of the men should go out into the yard, as we were too many in the house. About eight or nine went and looked in through the window; we were now six left. The light was turned down, and all eyes were eagerly fixed on the cupboard, when, to the amazement of all, the cupboard door was violently struck.
“This convinced us all that the rappings were perpetrated by no human agency. One more experiment was tried. This time a chair was placed in the centre of the kitchen; a man sat on the chair, and Craze sat on the man’s knees. The men again went out. After waiting about two minutes we all heard two distinct knocks on the chair. After this no power could prevail upon Craze to stay longer.
“The remainder of the mysterious affair you able correspondent has made known. I wish to add that my brother and I are in no way responsible for the humorous element which has been introduced into the affair.”
Weekly Dispatch (London), 18th March 1906.
Adventures of a Newspaper Man. By Frank Dilnot.
Chapter IV. The Ghosts of Wales.
I do not know that I can say that I have seen a real ghost; but I have at least seen something which may pass for a ghost, something the origin of which has never been explained satisfactorily to myself or to others who witnessed it. From the time when I wrote about the “Lights of Egryn” there has been a smile or a kindly silence when the matter has crept up; and yet I saw those lights as plainly as the hundreds of other people saw them on various occasions. Before I come to the Lights of Egryn, however, I want to tell of another little ghostly experience in Wales.
The local papers of South Wales gave a good deal of prominence in 1906 to the strange occurrences at a cottage in the occupation of a miner at the little mining town of Abertridwr, not far from Cardiff. It was stated that strange knockings were heard in the house, and that the young miner who occupied it had been frightened nearly out of his wits, and that responsible people who had gone to the house had also heard the knockings – of which there was no ascertainable explanation. The details were so circumstantial that I went down to investigate the whole matter. I found Abertridwr very excited, and indeed, not without cause.
The haunted residence was one of a line of small cottages, and when I arrived it was empty, because the young miner, unable to stand the strain of the nocturnal happenings, had, with his wife, found lodgings in another house. I was told as a preliminary that nothing of any note occurred in the cottage except when this young man himself was present, and that persons who had been present during the manifestations while he was in the place had waited in vain for anything to happen when he was absent.
The first thing I did was to seek out the man himself. I was prepared to find an imposter, but instead of that I found a trembling, white-faced young fellow whose unnerved state was apparent at a glance. It was with difficulty that I coaxed him to say anything, and what I did extract was little more than “Yes” and “No.” I tried to persuade him to come along to the haunted house that night and stay with me there in order that I might have the opportunity of hearing or seeing what took place. He stepped away from me as if he had been stung. “Nothing will make me go back there again.” I tried hard. It was quite without avail. I even offered to pay him if he would come and spend an hour with me there at midnight. He became angry at the idea.
From the young miner I went to the Rev. Gwilym Rees, a Church of England clergyman, who lived about a mile away. He was present at one of the ghostly demonstrations, in company with a dozen others, including the local police-sergeant and a police-constable, and I heard the following story.
The young miner, much against his will was induced to go with the clergyman, two policemen, and others to the haunted house between the hour of midnight and 2 a.m. The place had been stripped of furniture with the exception of a chair in the back kitchen. The visitors were hardly inside the place before a distinct loud rapping was heard on the interior of the wall near them, and the house was immediately thoroughly searched from top to bottom. No trace of any other person was discovered. The party went into the kitchen. This is the narrative of the police-sergeant:
“He (the young miner) was taken over to near the fireplace and placed on the lap of a man, who held him tightly round the body. Suddenly, there came two resounding knocks from the cupboard in the chimney recess a few feet from him. The blows seemed to come from the interior of the cupboard, and the unfastened doors were shaking. They were immediately flung open and the interior of the cupboard examined. It was quite empty.”
“The blows,” said the other policeman who was present, “were not mere taps. They were like the kicks of a horse.”
The young miner was placed on the chair in the middle of the room, and a member of the company held his hands. Two minutes later there were three loud raps on the wooden bottom of the chair in which the miner was sitting. He had been in a state almost of collapse for some minutes, and he now fainted away.
This is the statement of the clergyman: “I went to the house because I had known him for some time, and he had come to me in distress about the matter. I was utterly sceptical. I came away feeling convinced that the sounds I had heard were not produced by human agency. The knocks were loud and resounding. We saw nothing to account for them at the moment we heard them, nor could an exhaustive search of the house throw any light on the matter.”
I went to the haunted house on two or three nights, and stayed there until the early hours of the morning, but no manifestation occurred during my presence. I left without personal evidence of the ghostly manifestation, except the statements made in all sincerity by persons who, without any predisposition to credulity on ghosts, had been convinced that there was something supernatural in what had occurred.
What I have narrated is the story of the ghost I did not see. Now let me give that of the “ghost” which I did see. The Manchester papers in the beginning of 1905 contained reports of weird happenings on the coast near Barmouth, under the shadow of Cader Idris. This part of Wales, like many other parts, was under the revival influence, and you could feel the prevalent emotion in the ordinary everyday life, in the shops, in the little hotels, in the little post office, on the farms, among the roadside workers. Emotion was in the air. You went to any one of these districts as an Englishman, with a kind of smiling derisiveness, and you were there but a day or two before you were compelled, at any rate, to take the mood of the people seriously and to regard the revival spirit as an extraordinary and substantial fact. That has to be taken into account in reading the story I am about to relate.
When strange stories of supernatural visions began to emanate from the district of North Wales, of which I am writing, English people smiled tolerantly and said: “Well, well!” The story getting abroad was to the effect that a wave of religious enthusiasm was rolling over the district, that it was receiving its impulses largely from a simple farmer’s wife, who, touched with inspiration, was bringing religious truth to the hearts of the people for miles round her home, and that as an accompaniment to the wonderful change in this woman, and the wonderful work she was accomplishing, heavenly lights of brightness and magnitude were appearing on the hillsides and in the sky in the part of the countryside where she was carrying on her ministrations.
I daresay this looks at once stupid and fantastic. If it were put into fiction it would hardly be possible to give it a touch of reality. Yet, as a matter of fact, this was the situation as reported in paragraphs and occasional longer articles in the Manchester papers. At first in London we thought it was not worth while paying attention to these statements – they seemed so far fetched and so obviously born of ecstacy. But presently there appeared in the Manchester Guardian a carefully written article, signed by a correspondent who had made a special visit to the place, in which details were given of some of these manifestations.
It was coldly and clearly stated by the correspondent that he had seen these weird lights on an evening when the farmer’s wife went out to preach at some outlying chapel. He described them with particularity, and to him it seemed that they kept pace with the trap in which she was driving along, and their vividness and continuity were described with obvious genuineness.
This to matter-of-fact, materialistic Fleet-street was, in common talk, a staggerer. It was impossible to think that the correspondent was wilfully writing what was not true; it was clearly impossible that in writing his story he had been deceived absolutely by things which had a perfectly natural explanation. What it all meant was hard to say. There was only one thing for a live newspaper to do, and that was to send down a London correspondent to learn if he also could witness these strange visions, and, if he could, to try to find out what they arose from. It was on this mission that I left London for Barmouth, the nearest town of any size.
With a feeling of disappointment, I ran against a correspondent from another paper, the Daily Express, when changing at a station on the way – I think it was Welshpool. He was bound on the same errand as myself, and I was hoping that I was on the way to an exclusive story. Only a few days later, however, I found myself very pleased that a rival newspaper man was present, because he was not far from me on the night I saw some strange things; and he was able to tell the public in his journal a somewhat similar story to my own. Why should I be glad? it may be asked. For this reason: That after I returned to London I was met with a smiling disbelief from colleagues and friends.
All kinds of suggestions were made – that I had dined not wisely but too well; that I had been over-anxious to secure a sensational narrative, and had exaggerated trivialities; that I had whole-heartedly invented a fairy tale. It pleased me, therefore, to think that if I was wholly off my balance, and was deluded in a wholesale way, at least the influences were exercised simultaneously upon a rival who saw the same as I did and gave to the world very much the same facts as I had. All this by the way.
Running northward from Barmouth by the side of the sea, the main road passes along at the base of a range of hills, and some three or four miles on enters the village known as Egryn, and then proceeds a mile or two further into the tiny grey town of Duffryn. That, in a sentence, is the lay of the country. It was Egryn which was the centre of the manifestations, and it was Egryn where lived Mrs Jones, a farmer’s wife, who was believed to be the objective round which the manifestations centred.
There were perhaps a dozen or so of houses in Egryn, and they were not grouped together, but were scattered over the countryside – a farmhouse here, a labourer’s cottage here and there. At a point on the roadside was the tiny Calvinistic Methodist chapel, removed from any habitation. Mrs Jones worshipped within it, and the neighbourhood of the chapel was one of the places where the lights were frequently seen. My first task on getting to Barmouth was to see if it were possible for these mysterious lights to arise from natural causes; to find out if they were “will o’-the-wisps” or some kind of electric phenomena. I disposed of the first suggestion at once, for I found nothing in the configuration of the country to lead me to suppose that the lights resulted from marshy gases or similar influences.
As you went north along the road from Barmouth the hills sloped up from the right, and on the left were fields separating the road from the sea. At Egryn the margin between the road and sea increased considerably, but there was nothing in the character of the intervening land to lead to an explanation of the strange lights, and, indeed, this supposition was disposed of by the fact that the lights were seen generally on the uplands; “in the sky” was a frequent description of their location.
On the other side of the road, on the sloping fields leading towards the steeper hillsides, there was again nothing to lead to the discovery of the origin of the lights. The hills above the fields and meadows were barren of cultivation, and the desolate stretches of loose stony material were without so much as a cottage for miles, without even a shepherd’s hut. There were no trees nor any means of concealment for possible organisers of a great practical joke. I covered the ground pretty thoroughly and could find nothing to help me as to the solution of the reported occurrences. The next step was to collect evidence from people who were not likely to be carried away by their emotions, and I quickly came upon a surprising state of things.
I went to a local tradesman in Barmouth, to working people, and to ministers of religion. From nearly all of them I received the same kind of evidence about the lights. It seems that the lights varied a good deal – varied in number though not very much in appearance. They were globular, bright lights which appeared suddenly high up away from the ground, sometimes in groups of twos and threes or more, sometimes singly, and they lasted from periods of seconds to periods extending over an hour. They were described as sometimes being stationary halfway up the hillside, sometimes as moving along the hillside level with the trap of Mrs Jones as she drove to service (though there was not such overwhelming evidence of this as of the simple appearance of the lights).
The thing that impressed me most was the matter-of-fact and obviously-sincere assertions of the different witnesses. Most of them took the appearance of the lights as something not calling for any great wonderment or, indeed, for more than passing comment. That Heaven should take upon itself to give some outward and visible sign of its approval of the prevalent enthusiasm was the most natural thing in the world. That was the general spirit.
I remember going to a big chapel at Duffryn, the minister of which was a level-headed man who had a night or two before my arrival seen the lights. The service was proceeding when I arrived, but in response to a message to the platform, the minister came down and had a chat with me about the matter, and his statement was most clear. “I saw these lights,” he said, “to the number of seven. They appeared to be in the sky.”
My journalistic colleague and rival had made somewhat similar inquiries to my own in other directions, and his general conclusions were in consonance with my own, and we arranged to join forces at night in order to watch for the lights. It was during the afternoon before our first vigil that I made a journey on my own account to see Mrs Jones, the reputed origin of all the strange happenings. She lived in a lone farmhouse at Egryn, between the sea and the hills. (To be continued tomorrow.)
Daily Citizen (Manchester), 20th January 1913.
I first saw Mrs Jones’s brother, a quiet-spoken Welshman, who, in response to questions, told me that the lights were generally visible on the occasions when his sister went forth to preach. I learnt, too, how Mrs Jones had taken no part at all in public speaking, but had been a reserved, home-loving woman, reticent of speech, only a few months before. Her influence over audiences, her confidence and power on the platform, had come suddenly.
I found Mrs Mary Jones, a simple-mannered country woman of thirty-five, her hair touched with grey. She was absolutely without self-consciousness, and had a quiet, easy mien. Her tone was deep and soft, but her brown eyes were alive with a strange light. I think she had natural powers of personality. I remember at one time how the thought flashed across me that she would have made what in spiritualistic talk is called a good medium. She spoke to me quite freely about the strange lights. She did not associate them particularly with herself, she said, although it was true that they had been seen during the time she was on her way to chapel. She added, with a low-voiced intensity, she knew they were Heaven-sent, and that they were connected with the revival.
For two nights, on Thursday and Friday, my fellow-journalist and I paced the miles between Barmouth and Duffryn from Egryn, along the foot of the hills, in the hope of seeing the lights. We saw nothing. We were very disappointed, because Mrs Jones, on the second of the two nights, was out preaching at a village some two miles away, and it was on such occasions, we had been told, that the lights appeared. Saturday night came, and we went out for our third watch. Truth to tell, we had little expectation, because our previous experiences had damped us much and had left us with a growing impression that in some miraculous way the whole population had deluded itself.
It has to be remembered that in walking from Barmouth, the first place to be encountered was Egryn, and after that, some distance on, Duffryn. My friend and I had walked to and from Egryn at about seven o’clock, and had then made our way on to Duffryn, keeping our eyes on the black hillsides meanwhile. We saw nothing. Somewhere between half-past seven and eight o’clock we started to walk back from Duffryn in the Barmouth direction. We strolled along, occasionally stopping and leaning against the breast-high walls which served in the place of hedges upon the roadside, looking out into the blackness of the night, and making our surmises as to the origin of the whole affair. We progressed towards Egryn, and on the way silence fell between the two of us, and presently, for some purpose, he dropped a little way behind me – perhaps as much as fifty yards. We had now before us, probably a mile ahead, an indication of the little Egryn chapel, from its three-lighted windows, which showed that service was going on there. That was the only touch of light in the miles of countryside.
I remember sitting down on a big boulder on the side of the road waiting for my friend to come up. Sitting there, I was idly looking towards Egryn, when suddenly I saw what appeared to be a ball of fire above the roof of the distant chapel. It came from nowhere and sprang into existence instantly. It had a steady, intense yellow brilliance, and did not move. I quickly whipped out my watch, for I wanted to be exact in any description of what I saw, and I found the time to be twenty minutes past eight. My friend behind came hurrying up with an exclamation, and we stood together trying to imagine that the light was easy of explanation.
A labouring man was hastening to us from a hundred yards behind, and I said to him: “Do you see that?” pointing to the light, and he replied, excitedly: “Yes, yes, above the chapel. The great light.”
The three of us stood and watched the light. It seemed to me to be about twice the height of the chapel – say 50 ft. – and it stood out with electric vividness against the hills behind. We were, it should be remembered, about a mile away. Suddenly it disappeared, having lasted a minute and a half. With my journalistic colleague I remained leaning against the wayside wall, waiting for further developments, the countryman leaving us and making his way on alone. Again the chapel windows were the only lights in all the countryside. The minutes crept on, and it was about twenty-five minutes to nine before we saw anything else.
Then it was that two new lights burst forth over the chapel like the one before, but this time considerably higher in the air. They looked to be about 100ft. apart, and I guessed them to be about the same distance above the roof of the chapel. They shone out brilliantly and steadily for a space of thirty seconds, and then they both began to flicker like a defective arc lamp. They were flickering like that while one could count ten. Then they became stationary again. From where we were they looked like large and brilliant motor-car lamps. They disappeared within a couple of seconds of each other, having lasted about six minutes.
We started off quickly in the direction of the chapel to find out what we could. The lights might have been described as appearing in the air above the chapel, although in view of the fact that they showed up against the dark background of the hill it was possible for them to have been placed on the hillside itself. The mental impression, however – and I carefully noted the fact at the time – was that they were in the air and not on the hills.
Breathlessly we discussed the matter as we hurried on towards the chapel, and all kinds of conjectures were put forward only to be thrown down again immediately. The chapel door was fastened, and I knocked at it. An elderly man opened it. “There have been some lights appearing above the chapel,” I said. “Do you know anything about them?” “No,” he said, soberly, “but they often appear when we are holding service here.”
For nearly two hours afterwards we paced up and down looking for fresh demonstrations, but we saw none; and it was just before half-past ten that we decided to give up the vigil for the night, feeling satisfied with the experience which we had had. We had passed Egryn Chapel and were well on the way to Barmouth at about half-past ten. We were walking along chatting together when we suddenly saw on the hillside on our right a flash. Immediately we realised that one of the lights was before us again. It was about five hundred feet from where we stood. It shone out with an intense yellow brightness. It was a bulb of brightness about six inches in diameter, and to look at was tiring to the eyes.
We both hurried to the stone wall at the side of the road, and climbed it, and began to run across the intervening field towards the light. We had not covered a score of yards before it disappeared, and there was not a sound anywhere throughout the night except the low gurgling of the sea some few hundreds of yards on the other side of the road. We went up the hillside over the intervening meadow and fields to the spot near about where we imagined the light to have been located. We found nothing but the loose shale on the hillside. No sign of a human being, no available place of concealment, and nothing in the shape of a dwelling near by.
That, then, is what I saw at Egryn. There has been no explanation of it. The journal which I represented, with characteristic enterprise, sent down highly-equipped scientific experts to explore the country, to test the hills for electricity, and to use whatever ingenuity was possible to find out the secret. They did not find it out. They came back with smiling incredulity at my story. The story remains for what it is worth. All that I can say is that I am not a Welshman, nor was I moved by any of the revival enthusiasm of the district, and that I certainly saw the lights that I have described.
Daily Citizen (Manchester), 21st January 1913.
https://www.britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk/viewer/bl/0003358/19060304/013/0001
also partly relevant – seems to have brush-off from ‘Society for Psychical Research’, quite strange brush-off