Jug Flies Round Room; Crockery Falls To Bits
Scotswoman blames aurora
An extraordinary occurrence is reported from the village of Tosta Chaolais, on the west coast of Lewis. In a house on the outskirts of the village crockery and household utensils began to jump about in an amazing manner. There were three people present – the woman of the house, aged over 80; her granddaughter, and infant grandson.
Interviewed, the old woman said that first a few small peats “flew” from their place beside the fire. One of them struck her face, another fell into her cup of tea. When her granddaughter opened the pantry door dishes on the dresser fell to bits where they stood with a loud, cracking noise. A jug containing meal shot off the dresser, turned round the corner of the bedroom door, and came to rest on the bed, 10 feet away. An aluminium teapot also travelled a distance of fully 10 feet, striking a wall above the bed. The granddaughter rescued some of the plates and went to the cupboard with them. Immediately the cupboard door was opened the dishes there began to crack and fall to pieces.
A heap of broken crockery outside the house shows the damage done was extensive. The whole village is mystified by the occurrence, but the woman declines to leave the house. She believes there is some “natural” explanation, possibly connected with the recent brilliant displays of aurora borealis.
Dundee Courier, 4th February 1938.
Strange freak in Tolsta Chaolais.
(As a result of the interest aroused, we have decided to reprint the whole of an article, part of which appeared in our 50 Years Ago column). First appeared in Gazette in February, 1938.
There was a mysterious occurrence in the village of Tolsta Chaolais last week when crockery and household utensils flew from their places on the shelves for no apparent reason and plates and lamp globes fell to pieces as if they had been struck by a hammer. The occurrence caused a sensation in the village, and when news of it spread to Stornoway on the following day, it was received with scepticism and, by most people, with downright incredulity. “A fortnight’s rest and you’ll be all right again,” was a favourite salute for bearers of news, or a subtle reference to the potency of whisky. But the facts are well authenticated, and beyond all doubt.
It was at Carn Dubh, Tolsta Chaolais, that the phenomenon occurred. The house known as Carn Dubh is occupied by Mr John Macleod and his family, but standing on the same small eminence above the road is his mother’s house. Mrs Macleod, the mother, who is over eighty years of age, lives alone, but two of her grandchildren, a girl in her early teens, and a little boy who is not yet of school age, sleep with her.
On Sunday morning, January 30, Mrs Macleod and her grandchildren were seated round the stove, at about 10.30, having a cup of tea, when a number of ‘caorans’ [carrots?] lying by the fireside suddenly began to jump about in an extraordinary manner. One of the ‘caorans’ jumped from the floor into the cup of tea which Mrs Macleod was holding in her hand. Another struck her violently on the side of the face. The ‘caorans’ were small, the largest of them being about the size of a hen’s egg. Although astonished, Mrs Macleod and the children finished their cup of tea and it was when the girl went into the little room adjoining, which serves as a pantry, and also communicates with the front door, that the really violent ‘manifestations’ began.
Immediately the girl opened the door she called to her granny in Gaelic that a tumbler had broken. The tumbler was standing on the dresser, and it split in two, just as a tumber breaks off clean when too hot water is poured into it. At that time there was no one within a yard of the tumbler. The top part broke off, fell to the ground, the bottom part remained on the shelf. But the tumbler was only the beginning. The other dishes on the shelf also began to break with a loud cracking sound. The cups, which were hanging on little hooks on the dresser, fell off and smashed to pieces. The plates and saucers broke where they lay, while the astonished girl watched them from a short distance.
A jug which contained rice, shot off the dresser, over the girl’s head and smashed on the floor not far from the stove in the bedroom. In doing so it had to turn the sharp corner formed by the angle of the wall, to get to the bedroom door. Another jug containing pease-meal also shot off the dresser, round the corner of the door, clean across the bedroom and came to rest on the bed. The jug was corked with a wad of paper, and it completed its journey through the air for a distance of over ten feet without spilling. A few grains of the pease-meal were scattered on the bed where the jug came to rest, but there was no sign that any had been spilt before it turned on its side as it touched the bed.
A tin of cocoa, a tin of salts, and the salt cellar also were found on the bed. While Mrs Macleod and her grand-daughter were naturally alarmed by the occurrence, the youngster was at first delighted by the pranks played by the crockery and as each article came flying into the room where he was, he shouted gleefully in Gaelic, “Here’s another.” The teapot behaved most violently of all. It left its place on the shelf like a sky rocket, shot across into the bedroom, and struck the wall some feet above the bed. The point of impact was clearly marked by tea leaves for those who came in a few minutes afterwards, and are witness to the havoc wrought.
Havoc is the word, because almost all the crockery on the dresser was damaged. A beautiful ashet escaped with only a small chip out of the side, but bread plates, cups, saucers, jugs, egg cups, tea plates and other articles were smashed to pieces. An examination of the dishes afterwards revealed that they had not broken along old cracks. The broken edges wereclean and fresh.
Although astonished by the sudden upheaval in the pantry, the girl kept calm and actually had the presence of mind to catch a second teacup as it passed her on its journey to the bedroom. She also had the presence of mind to grab four plates which had survived the carnage on the dresser, and hurry with them to the press where she thought they would be safe. As soon as the door of the press was opened the dishes in there also began to crack with a loud noise and the damage done was as great as on the dresser. The debris half filled a canvas sack, which gives a fair indication of the havoc wrought in the space of a few minutes.
Strangest of all, probably, was the fact that after the occurrence, it was found that the lamp globes in both rooms had shivered to pieces. A toothbrush of celluloid, or some similar composition, which had been lying on the dresser, without moving from its original position, snapped into three pieces, as clean as if it had been chopped through with an axe. Even the bar of Lifebuoy, or Carbolic soap, did not escape. It was split from end to end, just as if it had been sliced through.
While the dishes were still breaking, an older grandson, Norman, arrived at the door and immediately raced back to his father’s house calling out that there was something wrong. His mother, Mrs John Macleod, hurried down and on her way distinctly heard the dishes cracking with a loud report; but before she reached, the phenomenon had passed, although the visible evidence of it was strewn about the floor.
Mr John Macleod was also on the scene within a few minutes and after pausing to see whether there would be any repetition, his first thought was to secure some witnesses, as he knew the occurrence would scarcely be believed unless it was sufficiently vouched for. Several people saw the evidence of what had occurred within a very short time and what they saw amply bears out the strange story of the three eye witnesses.
The utensils which escaped present almost as great a problem as those which were smashed. The dishes in the corners of the dresser were undamaged. Whilst most of the metal articles were carried away, the breadknife remained where it was. While the whole contents of the lower wall shelf, beside the dresser, were swept away, the contents of the upper shelf were untouched. A glass bottle, precariously perched on the edge of a high narrow shelf in the bedroom was undisturbed. The full utensils were swept away into the bedroom ten feet away, and escaped damage; the empty ones remained on the shelves and were smashed to pieces.
Naturally these strange ‘manifestations’ on a Sunday morning have led to much speculation in the district, not a little mixed with dread of the occult, but the people most nearly concerned have taken a very calm and understanding view of the occurrence. Mrs Macleod, despite her eighty-odd years, refused to leave the house and slept in her own bed that night. Her view was that there must be a natural explanation, probably connected with the unusual brilliant displays of aurora borealis which were witnessed on the preceding Tuesday night, and the lesser displays on several evenings since then.
It is fortunate, both for those concerned and for those who wish to arrive at the facts, that the occurrence took place in the presence of a lady of quick observation, unusual intelligence and great presence of mind. Not many years ago there would have been only one explanation of last week’s strange happenings in Tolsta Chaolais, and even today there are numerous people in the Island whom it has set talking foolishly of supernatural agencies, ancient burials and ladies in grey. The first though which leaps to the mind is that of ‘poltergeist” – a German word meaning ‘racketing spirits’, and used to describe the numerous inexplicable, but frequently recurring cases of strange noises, movements of furniture and breakages of crockery which have been recorded all over the world for centuries past. The activities of a ‘poltergeist’, in almost all the recorded cases, seems to be dependent upon the presence in the house of a particular person, or sometimes two particular persons, without whom the various strange movements of furniture do not occur. Many cases of ‘poltergeist’ have been shown to be mere trickery and there has long been a debate in scientific circles as to whether it can be assumed that the unexplained cases are also produced by hysterical fraud, or whether some other power is at work.
However, the events at Tolsta Chaolais last week are not likely to add to the scientific literature on ‘Poltergeist’ because there is another much simpler and more satisfactory theory for which one must go back to the old story of the pupil in Leyden University who got an unexpected electric shock from a jar of water two hundred years ago. The Leyden jar was the first form of electric condenser, an apparatus with which all wireless fans are familiar, its original purpose being to store an electrical charge. The most elementary form of Leyden jar consists of a glass bottle with a well fitting cork. The inside is coated with tin foil and a wire or metal rod passing through the cork is used to make contact with whatever machine is in use for producing the electricity. The Leyden jar is capable of holding a very considerable charge of electricity.
The essential features of the Leyden jar, it will be seen, are a non-conducting container (the glass jar) and a conductor (the tin foil) connected by a wire or rod to the electric machine. The bedroom at Tolsta Chaolais, where the events of last week occurred, is a perfect Leyden jar on a large scale. The house is built entirely of wood, which is a non-conductor, and, when the doors and windows are tightly closed, as they were that day, the room was admirably designed to play the part of the glass bottle. The part of the tin foil was played by a large metal stove, which occupies a considerable proportion of the floor space of the room; and of the rod or wire, by the iron chimney which projected feet through the roof. The bedroom was thus admirably equipped to receive an electric charge, and one does not need to seek far for the source of that charge. Both the aurora borealis and lightning, of which we have had a good deal lately, are evidence of electrical disturbances. It is not necessary for a flash of lightning to pass before a person or object is electrified. In the circumstances existing at Tolsta Chaolais an electrified cloud would have produced a very heavy charge in the house, without lightning or thunder.
The sequence of events fits in admirably with this theory. First the ‘caorans’ began to jump. They were in direct contact with the stove and would have been charged with electricity before the remainder of the room. They therefore flew towards the nearest large objects which were not charged – the people who were sitting round the stove. In the space of a few seconds the whole room, including the people and the furniture, must have been very highly charged with electricity but, as they were all equally charged, no further incidents occurred for a time. The real trouble began when the wooden door between the bedroom and the pantry was opened. The door served as an insulator and immediately it was opened everything in the pantry, which was not charged with electricity, was drawn towards the bedroom, which was charged.
It may be objected that only iron is attracted by magnetism, but here we are not dealing with magnetism, but with a very heavy charge of static electricity. It is only necessary to rub an amber bead, or a celluloid comb briskly, in order to produce sufficient static electricity to lift little pieces of paper and, given a sufficient charge, such as frequently exists in the atmosphere, crockery and aluminium teapots would be attracted just the same.
Another difficulty is to imagine how a party of three people could become charged with electricity, sufficient to break crockery, without feeling a shock, but again it is quite a well established phenomenon. Even in a school laboratory it is possible to charge a person who is standing on an insulating stool very highly indeed, without any shock or unpleasant sensation. The shock comes, however, when the person who is charged touches a person or object who is not charged and it is possible that if any of the people in the house in Tolsta Chaolais had stepped outside suddenly that morning, they would have received a very severe electric shock. They were saved by the fact that the electric charge was dissipated gradually in the breaking of the dishes, and the other freaks which were played. Any minor shock which was experienced might very well have passed unnoticed in the excitement.
It is only on a dry day it could have occurred. On a wet day the insulating properties of the wooden building would have been almost destroyed and the electric charge would have leaked away very quickly to earth. And it’s only in the extraordinary circumstances of a highly charged cloud passing overhead that it could have occurred, and it is not likely to happen again in the lifetime of any people who witnessed it.
If it does recur, another explanation may have to be sought, but in the meantime it appears that Mrs Mcleod was probably right when she blamed the aurora borealis for breaking her dishes.
Stornoway Gazette and West Coast Advertiser, 27th February 1988.
“Somebody” in Tolsta Chaolais.
I doubt whether the BBC series “Is Anybody There” will add very much to our understanding of the paranormal, but the first programme reminded me of the only poltergeist I have encountered. If it was a poltergeist. And I can claim to have encountered it. It all happened in Tolsta Chaolais in the mid ‘thirties.
I heard on the grapevine one Monday morning that something strange had happened in the village the previous day. I wanted to make sure that no one tried to pull the wool over my eyes, so I asked Dan Macgregor, the librarian, to accompany me when I went to investigate. As a native of the village he knew the people involved. At the end of the interviews, we were both quite satisfied that we knew the facts.
The old lady, in whose home the “unruly spirit” appeared, was sitting having a morning cup of tea with her granddaughter then in her early teens and a younger grandson. Suddenly the caorans began to jump from the side of the large iron stove which heated the room. One struck the old lady on the cheek. Another plopped into her cup of tea. She wondered what had happened but kept her head and told her grand-daughter to take the dishes quickly to the scullery.
When the scullery door was opened things really began to happen. A jug of rice came sailing through the air and crashed on the floor. A jug of meal landed safely on the bed. The teapot crashed into the wall above the bed and splattered the wallpaper with leaves. The row of cups hanging by their lugs from nails above the sink fell off and smashed. If my memory is not playing tricks, some of them left the handles behind, still hanging on the nails. The plates were also smashed.
A cake of lifebuoy soap, lying on the sink, was cut in two as cleanly as if someone had done it with a knife. A toothbrush was snapped across. The globe of the lamp, hanging from the living room ceiling snapped off and part of it crashed to the floor. When the grand-daughter opened a press to try to get the dishes she was clutching into safety, the dishes in the press came flying out. In a short time there was nothing left whole in the house, but the dishes the girl was holding.
The old lady’s house was a wooden hut at the end of her son’s croft, and he heard the noise as he was getting ready for church. He arrived just in time to see the carnage. While all this was going on, the grandson was sitting on the floor enjoying the excitement and shouting “So fear ]eile! So fear eile!” [Here’s another one!]
The old lady was remarkably calm when I interviewed her. “I don’t understand it,” she said. “But I know there is an explanation.” She continued to live in the house alone, refusing to believe that it was haunted.
Others found explanations easier to come by. It was said afterwards that one of the village worthies read the old lady a lecture on the theme that it was a judgment because she was so house proud. The old lady looked him straight in the eye, and replied, “In that case you better be careful. You worship your cow!”
The Society for Psychical Research expressed an interest in the incident, but did not pursue it when they had got the facts. My own view, for what it is worth, is that no poltergeist or unruly spirit was involved, despite the presence of a teenage girl. The incident happened during a weekend remarkable for brilliant displays of aurora borealis, seen all over northern Europe. There were also isolated violent thunderstorms. Obviously there was some profound electrical disturbance taking place. The house, as I have said, was a little wooden hut built on a rocky promontory. It was heated by a large iron stove, out of all proportion to the size of the room, and from the stove an iron chimney led through the roof. It was, in effect, a giant Leyden jar – a type of electric condenser or store discovered almost simultaneously by two different scientists in 1745, one of them a professor in the University of Leyden, from which the device takes its name. Even from a small Leyden jar it is quite possible to get a violent electrical shock.
Further credence is given to this explanation by the fact that, so far as I know, there was no recurrence of the disturbance. If the incident had really been due to a poltergeist – whatever a poltergeist is – one would have expected the phenomena to continue over a period. Some months after the incident, the old lady took out a ball of wool to darn a sock. The wool crumbled in her hand. It was perished. The significance of this is that, on the day of the “poltergeist”, the ball of wool was found on the living room floor, although it had been left in the bedroom. At the time it was assumed that it had been accidentally swept into the living room by someone passing, but, when it was found to be perished, the question arose whether it had not been drawn from the bedroom by the same force which destroyed the dishes, and destroyed itself in a somewhat different way.
P.J. Macleod, who had been the old lady’s doctor when he was in practice in Carloway, confirmed Dan Macgregor’s opinion, and the view I formed myself, that the old lady’s word could be relied on utterly for the events of that busy Sunday morning. The explanation, however, came as something of a disappointment to Neil Gunn, who was staying with P.J. at the time, and who was looking for a real (or should I say, unreal?) brush with the occult. But even if one can explain the Tolsta Chaolais incident in terms of static electricity, that does not dispose of poltergeists. The literature about poltergeists is extensive and covers a long period of time.
Coming back to the BBC’s original question, there obviously is somebody – or rather something – there. Although I think it would be wiser to speak of things in the plural. There may be several different explanations of the phenomena usually lumped under the general heading of poltergeist.
Stornoway gazette and West Coast Advertiser, 24th May 1980.