A French Haunted House.
(From our correspondent.)
Paris, Sunday night.
If the reports published in the Paris Press are to be credited, a house at Valence-en-Brie, near Montereau, is the scene of curious phenomena, or of the exploits of a very clever practical joker. It appears that the supposed ghosts, instead of making their presence felt at night, do so in broad daylight – it is said generally about six o’clock. Though they upset furniture, open locked doors, shatter windows, and generally behave in a most boisterous fashion, what creates the greatest astonishment is the voice which shouts out all sorts of frivolous remarks, mingled with abuse and insults.
This voice has been heard not only by the inmates of the house, the family Lebegue, and by the little servant Isabelle Pelletier, but also by some gendarmes, who were summoned to discover the ghost or practical joker. When they arrived the voice, according to the declaration of the Police Commissary, interviewed by the Eclair reporter, greeted them by shouting – “Ah, you had better get out of here, you with your dirty boots.”
The Police Commissary is, however, very far from believing in any supernatural manifestation, and all the more so because no voice was heard while he and his policemen occupied the house during a whole evening and night. Madame Lebegue, who is an invalid, is, of course, much disturbed by all the noise, but the persons who hear it most often are her daughter Charlotte and the young servant. The Eclair reporter was told that the other day Madame Lebegue, in her bed, said she was thirsty, and that immediately the voice shouted – “Charlotte, Charlotte, your mother wants something to drink.” The little girl, it seems, is not in any way alarmed at the voice, which she hears constantly. As for the servant, the Eclair reporter says she seems to be on almost friendly terms with the voice, and that the only thing that annoys her is that she has to put all the furniture in order after it has been all thrown about by some invisible agency.
The person who is the most persecuted by the voice is young Lebegue, a lad of fifteen. It is said that when the voice was questioned by him it replied, “I am Prince Visky. I belong to a high Russian family,” and whenever anyone inquires where he is, the voice invariably replies, “I am at Marseilles.” To the objection that in that case he is not at Valence-en-Brie, the answer comes, “Oh, that is no matter. I can be at Marseilles and here too.”
Dr. Pate, who attends Madame Lebegue, has heard the voice, and is one of those who seem to be the most impressed by its unaccountable character. In relating his experience to the Eclair reporter, he said: “I have heard the voice myself, and that several times, like everybody else here. It used most violent and insulting expressions. Every time I heard it I advanced towards the corner, the wall, or the spot whence the voice seemed to issue, but I could never discover anything, although I made minute searches to find a crack, a hole, or opening through which it might have reached my ears. You will admit that is strange. And how can you explain the furniture upset in hermetically closed rooms? And please note the fact that, of the panes of glass that have been shattered, all were not exposed to stones thrown from outside. Some of them are in a passage which could not be reached from out of doors. I must confess there is something in the affair, but what it is I cannot imagine.”
M. Delorme, a neighbour, has also frequently heard the voice. Though he cannot discover who it is, he is inclined to believe it must be the trick of a ventriloquist. As for the furniture so often thrown about, he thinks that it must be the work of some practical joker, though he has not yet been discovered.
In the meanwhile, however, the excitement created at Valence-en-Brie by the mysterious voice and upset furniture has spread to Paris, where the public, kept informed by the journals, are not satisfied with the declaration of the Police Commissary, who says it must be the work of a practical joker. If that is the case, and as there is some disturbance of public order, it is the duty of the police to arrest the perpetrators, and not to indulge in idle talk. It is certain that it would be more satisfactory if the Police Commissary, instead of simply saying that it must be a practical joker, could succeed in laying his hand on him.
London Evening Standard, 29th June 1896.
Not content with its Parisian Pythoness and her angelic promptings, France now has a Voice. The Voice is located at Valence-en-Brie, in the house of the Lebegue family, and (unlike good little boys) it is incessantly heard and not seen. Mdme Lebegue hears it, and her daughter hears it, and her son hears it, and the servant hears it, and the neighbour hears it. More than this, when the gendarmes called to make investigation, the Voice cried, “Ah you had better get out of here, you with the dirty boots.”
Of course the house is now looked upon as haunted, although there are supporters of a ventriloquial theory. The spirit contention gains from the autobiographical fragment which the voice recently offered, “I am Prince Visky,” he remarked casually. On the other hand, there is ground for believing that it may be a bird, because on adding, “I am at Marseilles,” the question was asked, “How then can you be here?” To which it replied, “O, that is no matter. I can be at Marseilles and here too.” Now a Voice cannot be in two places at once, barring it is a bird. What bird, we know not. Perhaps a canard.
Prince Visky’s voice differs from ordinary voices in its amazing muscular development. Certainly, voices have been known to empty a house, but moving furniture is usually left to hands. The Valence-en-Brie Voice turns the furniture upside down every night, which annoys the servant, who otherwise is on friendly terms with it. Most of the outside investigators have lost their heads a little, but Dr. Pate, the household physician, who naturally retains his, says he believes in the ghost theory absolutely. M. Delorme, the neighbour, who is clearly a man of imagination, inclines to think that the voice is produced by a ventriloquist, and the disordered rooms by a practical joker. It would be comic if, in revenge, Prince Visky moved next door.
Globe, 29th June 1896.
The French Haunted House.
(From our correspondent.)
Paris, Wednesday night.
The “haunted” house at Valence-en-Brie, referred to in The Standard of June 29, has been visited by very numerous writers on the Paris Press. Some of them are simple reporters, who have contented themselves with gathering information and relating it in a more or less embellished form in their respective journals: but others are more intellectual men, who have not only questioned those living in the house and neighbourhood – with the object of making “copy” – but have sought conscientiously to discover the mystery of the voice which, in broad daylight, continues to address almost every one who enters M. Lebegue’s house. Among the latter is M. Henry Desormeaux, of the Gaulois. He says he interrogated all those who had witnessed the strange events of which M. Lebegue’s house was and is still the scene. In addition to the inmates of the house, he questioned Dr Pate, M. Garset, formerly Mayor of Valence-en-Brie, M. Lombard, the schoolmaster, M. Hanot, &c.
After minutely searching the house, and a prolonged investigation, during which he on several occasions heard the mysterious voice. M. H. Desormeaux has now returned to Paris, “convinced that we are in the presence of real and impressive manifestations of those unknown forces of man, the existence of which was recently brought to light by the works of M. de Rochas and Doctor Baradac.”
The writer in the Gaulois sets aside as impossible the hypothesis of a practical joke, as the mysterious manifestations he investigated had already lasted during seventeen consecutive days in broad daylight, and often in the preseence of several persons. Summing up the most characteristic of those manifestations, M. Desormeaux says: – “On Wednesday, 10th June, Isabelle, the young servant, goes down into the cellar to fetch some chips to light a fire. Her candle goes out, and while she continues filling her apron with the chips she hears a violent blow struck close beside her. At the same time, she perceives in the dim light a red rag fluttering in the air, as if carried by a mysterious invisible hand. She is frightened, and wants to run away, but she is, so to say, petrified with terror by an awful roar. On the following days a voice is heard, at first very weak, but gaining strength little by little till it resembles the hoarse voice of the giant of the fair.
“Every day the voice ascends. It is heard at the cellar door, then in the kitchen, and soon in the hall and in the the rooms of the house. It posts itself at the bed-side of the invalid, Madame Lebegue, insults Dr. Pate, and jeers at the gendarmes who come to inspect the premises. That voice is heard everywhere. It issues from the ground, from the chimney, from under the dishes on the dining table; it accompanies M. Lebegue’s son into his bedroom, and M. Lebegue’s little daughter follows it from the first storey down to the bottom of the cellar, where it seems to be stifled in a heap of wood.
“On Monday, 22d June, at 7.0 p.m., all the panes of the hall window are broken one after the other, not with missiles from without, but from within, as shown by the shattered glass being outside. On Thursday, 25th June, during a thunderstorm, all the furniture in the drawing-room on the ground floor is upset. On the first floor, in young Lebegue’s bed-room, a looking-glass is pierced as by a bullet. It is at that moment the voice says, in presence of M. Daniel d’Aigre, of the Journal, ‘Well! I have done a good job. I am pleased with myself.’ The next morning I am in the hall with two visitors; the servant is in the garden speaking to another person, when I hear at the cellar door the mysterious roar like the monstrous amplification of a sigh of regret.”
M. Henry Desormeaux appears to think that the intentional or unintentional cause of all these mysterious manifestations is the young servant, Isabelle Pelletier. In other houses in which she previously served, at Sens and at Valence, things were upset without any apparent cause, while she was present or not far off. To explain his hypothesis, M. Desormeaux invokes the researches of M. de Rochas and of Dr. Baradue, who think they have discovered the existence in man of a fluid enveloping him, which fluid in its normal condition is impalpable and invisible, but which under certain conditions is exteriorised and materialised, and rendered capable of impregnating inert objects to the extent of imparting to them a sort of life. In that case the objects become, so to say, a prolongation of the person’s body, and when he moves, they follow him.
Taking this theory for granted, M. Desormeaux argues that it is possible that the contact with an object pregnant with contrary electricity may determine a return current occasioning the displacement of objects. It is thus he accounts for the shattering of windows, &c. With regard to the voice, which cannot be explained in that manner, M. Desorneaux inquires whether it is not possible that the exteriorised vital power is not seized upon by some spirit with which, according to the Kabbalists and modern Occultists, the air is peopled.
Though most men endowed with practical common sense will be inclined to reject M. Desormeaux’s explanation of the mysterious manifestations at Valence-en-Brie, it must be admitted they are ingenious.
In a letter dated yesterday, and addressed to the editor of the Journal, Abbe Schnebelin declares he has put an end to the mysterious manifestations which had for so very many days disturbed the peace of M. Lebegue’s house. The Abbe’s explanation of how he succeeded in freeing the haunted house from the mysterious voice, &c., is extremely vague, and almost as mysterious as the manifestations themselves. It is, however, clear that he did not proceed to drive out the evil spirit in conformity with the rites of the Roman Catholic Church, because he discovered the author of the manifestations was a human being, who bore ill-will to the Lebegue family.
Who he is the Abbe does not say, but he declares that, on the urgent request of M. Lebegue, he commenced on Monday to break the occult forces operating at Valence-en-Brie from a distance. He says that at ten o’clock in the evening he had so far succeeded that the voice said, “Good night; I am going away for ever.”
At one o’clock M. Lebegue brought to Abbe Schnebelin a stone which had just been thrown by the unseen agency. The Abbe at once measured its fluidic energy by the barometer, and found it at least one hundred degrees less than his own. He adds, “From that moment the occult and sinister mystifier was my prisoner. I had to crush him, which I did immediately.” This feat was not accomplished by the Abbe while he was at Valence-en-Brie, but while he was at Paris. His letter published today proceeds: – “I declare in all sincerity there is absolutely nothing supernatural in these strange phenomena. In these manifestations there is nothing but the operation of spiritist fluids, which seem to be allied to the electric fluids. These spiritist fluids are, so to say, the vehicle by which the human will exteriorises itself – that is to say, sends to a distance its motive power, as the Russian savant Aksakof says, its sensibility, its speech, its hearing, and even its phantom. I will add that these actions of exteriorisation are extremely dangerous for their author. There is danger of death for him if his exteriorised fluid meets on the way a contrary fluid. The Abbe then concludes by reproaching the scientific men of the Institute with refusing to inquire into these matters lest they should meet with the supernatural. They, however, he says, possess the elements of discoveries much more astounding than those of the telephone and phonograph.
London Evening Standard, 2nd July 1896.
Mysterious voices uttering threats in the most modern slang are no longer heard in the haunted house at Valence-en-Brie, near the forest of Fontainebleu. M. Lebegue, his ailing wife, his children, and his servants, after having been nearly frightened out of their wits by the supposed ghost or demon, are at length delivered from the spell of their sinister visitant. An ecclesiastic, the Abbe Schnebelin, who has studied spiritualism closely, offered himself as exorciser, and his efforts have been crowned with complete success. The priest did not proceed against the alleged goblin with prayer or holy water, but after having carefully examined the rooms in M. Lebegue’s house and surveyed the damaged furniture and broken windows, he summoned the ghost to talk. The phantom failed to obey the injunction; so the Abbe directed M. Lebegue to stab the air whence the voice seemed to come, should he hear the ghostly tones once more.
That evening, after the priest had gone, the voice was again vibrating in the ears of the family, but to their relief the ghost said, “I mean to be off now.” Next day, however, noises were heard in the rooms, and mysterious utterances resounded through the place. M. Lebegue’s son accordingly went for a gun, loaded it, and fired several times in the direction of the sounds. There was a cry as of someone in pain, and from that moment the voice ceased.
Abbe Schnebelin naturally takes the credit of the affair. His advice was to stab or cut the air with a knife or sword, but the fowling-piece has evidently done its work thoroughly. The Abbe has explained, in letters to the papers and in statements made viva-voce, how he arrived at the conclusion that the voice could be stilled by a method of assassination. He examined a stone flung by the invisible person into one of M. Lebegue’s rooms, and formed an opinion from it of the energy of the person who had thrown it. He also conjectured that the voice was that of a person who had a grievance against M. Lebegue and his family, such as a discharged farm hand or servant.
This projection of the voice and even of the person is brought about, according to the Abbe, by the agency of certain fluids, which have an apparent connection with electric currents. By these means the human will can send its motive power abroad, but this proceeding is attended with danger to the person using it, as he may meet an opposing current. The ecclesiastic further states that there is nothing supernatural in these demonstrations, and he commends his theories to the attention of scientific men, who, he says, will find them as marvellous after another manner as the telephone and the phonograph.
M. Schnebelin likewise asserts that by means of marks on the glass broken in M. Lebegue’s rooms he has been able to discover that the invisible tormentor of the family is a white-bearded, red-faced old man, with hair like the quills upon the fretful porcupine, and that he worked with two accomplices.
This Hoffmanesque story is backed by Dr Papus, who was called in by M. Lebegue for consultation as an expert in psychical phenomena. He states that the voice was projected by the volition of a person who expressly meant to annoy the family and frighten them, and that this mysterious agency was interrupted and thwarted in its work by the Abbe Schnebelin.
These are the latest details concerning this extraordinary case, which has been occupying public attention in Paris, as well as in the rustic village of Valence-en-Brie, for nearly a fortnight. Whatever may be the value of the statements of the priest and doctor, it is certain that the supposed diabolical demonstrations have ceased for the present.
Daily Telegraph and Courier (London), 2nd July 1896.
A Haunted House
A French ghost who is pleased with himself.
The Paris correspondent of the “Daily Record” sends the following:- The latest sensation in France is being caused by a ghost. This ghost is haunting a house at Valence-en-Brie, near Monteraeu, a few miles from Paris. I visited the house of Mr Lebeque, where the ghost “walks,” and had the pleasure of seeing some of the effects of its visit. It not only amuses itself by throwing furniture and breaking glasses, but takes and even condescends to interfere with the cooking.
On arriving at the house, I was taken upstairs to speak to Mme. Lebeque, who is an invalid, and whose nerves have not been improved by the late ghostly visitations. I do not believe in ghosts or spirits. I walked over the house and observed the stones, and even had the good fortune to hear the voice saying in a sepulchral tone, “I have worked well. I am pleased with myself.”
“How do you account for the stones and missiles arriving in the house, Madame?” “I cannot account for it at all. You see” -pointing to the road- “the shutters are closed, and to arrive at the garden one has to pass the dining-room and turn a little to the right. What is one to infer? Magistrates and gendarmes have searched and watched the house.”
The conversation of the country is of nothing but spirits, and when I visited the Doctor Encausce (Papus), ex-Chief of Doctor of Lungs at the Hospital of the Charite, and explained to him the phenomena that have been taking place, he expressed a wish to visit the scene, and said he would pass an opinion. The occurrence might be taking place on account of a strong medium being located in the house. Doctor Berillon, whom I also visited and explained the facts, seemed more inclined to treat the affair as a practical joke, and the voice as that of a ventriloquist. I shall return again shortly, in company with the scientific men who are going to seriously investigate the phenomena.
Ballymena Weekly Telegraph, 4th July 1896.
A French Haunted House.
If the reports published in the Paris press are to be credited, a house at Valence-en-Brie, near Montereau, is the scene of curious phenomena, or of the exploits of a very clever practical joker. It appears that the supposed ghosts, instead of making their presence felt at night, do so in broad daylight – it is said generally about six o’clock. Though they upset furniture, open locked doors, shatter windows, and generally behave in a most boisterous fashion, what creates the greatest astonishment is the voice which shouts out all sorts of frivolous remarks, mingled with abuse and insults. This voice has been heard not only by the inmates of the house, the family Lebegue, and by the little servant Isabelle Pelletier, but also by some gendarmes who were summoned to discover the ghost or practical joker.
When they arrived the voice, according to the declaration of the Police Commissary, interviewed by the “Eclair” reporter, greeted them by shouting- “Ah, you had better get out of here, you with your dirty boots.” The Police Commissary is, however, very far from believing in any supernatural manifestation, and all the more so because no voice was heard while he and his policemen occupied the house during a whole evening and night. Madame Lebegue, who is an invalid, is much disturbed by all the noise, but the persons who hear it most often are her daughter Charlotte and the young servant.
Dr. Pate, who attends Madame Lebegue, has heard the voice, and is one of those who seem to be the most impressed by its unaccountable character. In relating his experience to the “Eclair” reporter said, “I have heard the voice myself, and that several times, like everybody else here. It used most violent and insulting expressions. Every time I heard it I advanced towards the corner, the wall, or the spot whence the voice seemed to issue: but I could never discover anything, although I made minute searches to find a crack, a hole, or opening through which it might have reached my ears. You will admit that is strange. And how can you explain the furniture upset in hermetically closed rooms? And please note the fact that, of the panes of glass that have been shattered, all were not exposed to stones thrown from outside: some of them in a passage which could not be reached from out of doors. I must confess there is something in the affair, but what it is I cannot imagine.”
The excitement created at Valence-en-Brie by the mysterious voice and upset furniture has spread to Paris, where the public, kept informed by the journals, are not satisfied with the declaration of the Police Commissary, who says it must be the work of a practical joker.
Staffordshire Chronicle, 4th July 1896.
Prince Visky, the owner of the mysterious Voice at Valence-en-Brie (which is French for Cock-lane), has been expelled, and the house is now free from supernatural phenomena. The credit belongs to the Abbe Schnebelin. The Abbe’s method was quite simple. A stone which the Voice had thrown was brought to him. The Abbe at once measured its fluidic energy by the barometer, and found it at least one hundred degrees less than his own. “From that moment,” he says, “the occult and sinister mystifier was my prisoner. I had but to crush him, which I did immediately.” Quite simple.
The Star, 4th July 1896.
A French Haunted House.
For the past fortnight all Paris has been excited over the mystery of a haunted house at the rustic village of Valence-en-Brie, near the forest of Fontainebleau. The house in question was occupied by a M. Lebegue and his family, and the ghostly manifestation took the form of a disembodied voice, which spoke to everyone who entered the house and uttered threats of all kinds against its inmates. Naturally this was an unpleasant accompaniment to existence in a country house, and M Lebegue appealed to the psychical experts of Paris in the hope that the “vox et preterea nihil” would be made to stand and unfold itself. His house was quickly invaded by journalists in search of “copy”, medical men, hypnotists, and curiosity seekers.
The ghost kept his head or – we bed his pardon – his voice in the midst of the excitement. He addressed all comers in the most fin de siecle of Parisian argot. This is the account the correspondent of the Gaulois gives of the origin of the mysterious utterances: – [as above to ‘heap of wood.’]
The writer of this vouches that he heard the voice distinctly on several occasions, and is himself convinced “that we are in the presence of real and impressive manifestations of these unknown forces of man” in which devotees of physical [sic] science so fervently believe.
Indeed, it is quite remarkable how much au serieux this mysterious “voice” is taken by men of eminent names in Paris, and what occult theories are offered in explanation of the affair. A French Abbe, even, who, while maintaining that there is nothing whatever supernatural in the manifestation, believes it is due to hidden forces, has sent his explanation to the Paris Press. The projection of the voice, and even of the person, is brought about, according to the Abbe, by the agency of certain fluids, which have an apparent connection with electric currents. By these means the human will can send its motive power abroad, but this proceeding is attended with danger to the person using it, as he may meet an opposing current. The Rontgen rays are nothing to this. The Abbe, acting on this theory, should order “an opposing current” to be set in operation when the “voice” next made itself heard.
M. Lebegue’s son, being evidently nothing of a mystic, loaded his gun next day, and fired at some words – it is hard to express one’s self accurately in the matter – which he heard issuing from the corner of his bedroom. There was, we are told, a cry as of some one in pain, and the “voice” said in a somewhat jocular tone, “I mean to be off now!” He was as good as his word, if we may use the expression. Valence-en-Brie is now without its “voice,” and the journalists and doctors have returned to Paris to spin theories out of the mystery. Outside of Stockton’s stories we have never heard anything like it. – Freeman.
Derry Journal, 6th July 1896.
Ghosts Cause Panic.
After an absence of forty years ghosts have reappeared in a house at Valence-en-Brie, a village about 30 miles from Paris, and are causing a virtual panic in the district.
The house, which in ancient times was a hunting rendezvous, stands in the main street, and is now used as a sanatorium for children. One night the woman superintendent heard strange noises, and next morning found that doors which had been securely locked were standing wide open, and that chairs had been displaced. For several nights similar noises occurred. One night there was a piercing shriek and the villagers were summoned. A search was made, but nothing was found.
Most of the villagers would probably have thought little of the matter if the house had not had a very ghostly history. An old resident, Mme. Auxerre, has no doubt the house is haunted. “If you had seen what I have seen,” she said to an inquirer. She related that in 1894 this house was occupied by a woman, Marie L–, her mother, her son and a servant. The woman’s husband was aide-de-camp to a Russian prince, and rarely visited the place. One night things began to happen, said Mme. Auxerre.
“A heavy carpet which had come from Russia was found rolled up and placed on a table. It was too heavy for one man to lift. No other piece of furniture had been moved. Another night tables where dishes had been placed were upset.”
At that time everyone believed that it was the devil himself who haunted the house, and a voice was heard in the cellar crying “I am here.” “A stalwart villager,” Mme. Auxerre said, “offered to go and search in the cellar. In five minutes he came out as white as a sheet.”
Gendarmes visited the house, and at last the occupant called in a priest to exorcise the “evil thing.”
This story is firmly believed among the villagers, and the return of the “ghost” has filled most of them with foreboding.
Belfast Telegraph, 23rd October 1933.