Unromantic villagers
who objected to the visit of ghost searchers.
Youlgreave is a Derbyshire village with a haunted house. Mr and Mrs Johnson lived in it, but they gave it up because the ghost interfered with Mr Johnson’s sleep. The fame of the haunted house spread; and two goblin-hunters went down to catch the ghost. They entered the deserted house when it was growing dark. “Do you see anything?” asked one, Arundale. “Nothing but mist,” answered his companion, Bracegirdle. But a moment later he said he could see something “as large as a rabbit, with two staring eyes.”
A little later, the two psychical researchers saw a chair rise on two legs twice. They counted twelve raps, and were waiting for a message, when the spiritual was ousted by the material, for seven men and women suddenly appeared, screaming and uttering awful threats. The landlord’s wife was one; and she wanted to know by what right the two inquirers into the occult had invaded the premises. The two inquirers went.
“We don’t want no goblin-hunters in our village,” said the residents. “I assure you we were on the way to the station at an early hour the next morning,” writes one of the hunters, Mr Arundale, in the “Two Worlds,” describing his adventures and his strategic retreat. “The worst part of the matter,” says the editor of the “Two Worlds,” “is the mediaeval superstition of the inhabitants, combined with an intolerance which would have well suited a fourteenth-century peasantry!”
Evening Express, 18th February 1901.
Youlgreave residents have a strong objection to inquisitive Spiritualists. Possessed of a haunted house, the home of ghosts and other uncanny spiritualistic phenomena, they do not intend to have the shades of the departed ancestors disturbed by the visits of gentlemen who are actuated solely by a desire to pry into the private affairs and movements of their immortal relations.
The experts who went to Youlgreave to listen to the spirit rappings, and commune with the restless ghosts, had a rather exciting time of it. In the midst of their investigations in the small hours of the morning, the indignant villagers raided the house, and ejected the Spiritualists with awful warnings as to their fate if they dared to further disturb the nocturnal visitors.
The Spiritualists departed, and the ghosts reign supreme in undisturbed possession. The impressions of one of the daring inquirers, published in another column, are decidedly interesting.
Derbyshire Times and Chesterfield Herald, 23rd February 1901.
Haunted Houses in Derbyshire.
“Spirit Rapping” at Youlgreave.
Exciting Experiences.
The official organ of the increasing force of spiritualists in this country furnishes a long description of a visit paid last week to haunted houses at Youlgreave near Bakewell. The party of investigation of psychic phenomena put up for the night in one of the ghost-attended dwellings and claim to have heard a dozen clear “rappings,” and witnessed the jumping of a chair.
“At a quarter to eleven p.m.,” the account proceeds, “we had a still greater surprise. Seven women and three men rushed into the house and insisted on our departure, as they would have no goblin hunters in their village.” The special commissioners were compelled to satisfy the demands of the villagers by completing their night’s lodgings at the only inn, which is licensed only for ordinary bottled spirits.
The story in “The Two Worlds,” a journal devoted to the facts and philosophy of Spiritualism, Religion, and Reform, is contributed by Mr Anthony Arundale, and runs as follows: –
“Hearing from a friend about the haunted houses in Derbyshire, I felt the desire, as a Spiritualist, to gain personal experience; so with a friend I journeyed to Youlgreave on Saturday last. We arrived at Rowsley Station at 3.45, and enquired our way, finding the roads about three or four inches deep in snow, while it was still snowing fast.
“We arrived at an inn about half a mile off Youlgreave, where we had dinner, and inquired for Mrs Johnson, whom we found in a small cottage, together with her husband and two children. I found her quite willing to talk and tell us about the knockings, etc. She also said her husband had become so afraid that he dare not go to sleep, so they left the house, and now they seemed to be all right again. She conducted us to the house in which she used to live, and by this time it was getting dark, but we went upstairs, and were there about ten minutes when my friend, Mr Bracegirdle, said, ‘Do you see anything?’ I said, ‘Nothing but a mist.’ He then said he could see something as large as a rabbit, with two staring eyes. We all approached the spot indicated, but it vanished. Mrs Johnson now said, ‘This is where the first raps occurred in the house, on the walls between the two houses.’
“We now went to see Mr Evans, and on telling him we would like to stay all night, he said he had not slept in the house for some time. Asked the reasons he said the raps were so loud that he could not stand it. One night, after there had been two thuds at the window, he turned in bed to look round the room, and saw a figure, but he said he could not describe it, but he saw it go under the bed and jumped up to search for it, but it had disappeared.
“Another night he awoke and heard a noise as though someone was throwing pieces of crockery in the air and catching them on other crockery, and he went downstairs, but found everything as he had left it. After this he slept no more in the house. He brought some friends to help him to take down the bedstead, which was a wooden one, and when they commenced to work the first screw the bed began to shake, and raps were heard all over the place, so his friends left in a hurry, without so much as saying ‘good evening.’ Mr Evans said, ‘If you particularly want to stay in here, I will sit up with you.’ I now asked him if we might search the house, to make sure no one else was present, and he consented.
“After this we had a candle lit, and I sat in the chair in which Mr Goodwin, the deceased stepfather of Evans, used to sit; Mr Bracegirdle and myself played draughts, and after about an hour I blew out the light, and we sat quiet for a time, but nothing occurred. We again made a light, and half an hour after once more blew it out. Shortly after this we heard a distinct rap on the pantry door, so I asked if someone wished to communicate with us. After another wait I distinctly saw a form standing at the bottom of the stairs, and turning to my friend, I asked, ‘Do you see anything?’ He replied, ‘I see a form, but not very distinctly.’ I now turned to Mr Evans and asked, ‘Had Mr Goodwin straight, long, grey hair, brushed flat to the head, and had he rather a long face with a slight colour in the cheeks.’ Mr Evans said, ‘That’s just like him.’ I now asked, ‘Did he wear a scarf with the ends hanging outside his vest, and also was he always in his shirt sleeves?’ He said, ‘This is marvellous, for it is quite correct.’
“A little time after this we all saw a chair rise on two legs twice, and heard more raps, but failed to get a message; but feel sure had we been allowed to stay all night, as intended, we should have been remarkably successful, for each time the raps grew louder. Altogether we counted twelve of them.
“About 10.45 we had rather a startling surprise. The house door opened, and there was a rush of people into the room. They proved to be seven women and three men. They closed round us and acted in quite a dramatic style, using threats of violence. They said we must leave the house at once, or they would throw us out. When they appeared to be getting exhausted with their oratorial efforts, I enquired what all the noise was about, but instead of pacifying them this made them worse. Eventually I found that one of the women was the landlord’s wife, and she demanded to know by what right we were there. I then said, ‘If you will allow me to speak we may soon begin to understand each other.’ I told her a friend had informed me of the strange doings in the houses, and I had come to see what there was to be seen. They said if we attempted to stay all night it would be worse for us. I replied, ‘We shall certainly not stay in the street, but if any of you have a bed to offer we will accept it.’
“One of the women said she kept the ‘Bull’s Head’ Hotel, and would put us up for the night, so we agreed. Then the landlady of the haunted houses said her husband was ill in bed and wanted to see us, so we consented to visit him. He asked me what we had seen and I replied, ‘Why, what is there to see?’ He seemed to think from this that we had seen nothing of importance. We then left him and went to the Bull’s Head. We were shown into a private room, and the proprietor came in and said, ‘Now, I want you to tell me exactly what you saw.’ I might have been tempted to say something had i not observed several men waiting in the passage. I managed to get rid of him at last, but as soon as he left the room, a man, ‘three sheets in the wind,’ came in. After asking the same questions, he told us they would have no ‘goblin hunters’ in their village. He also used abusive language, and tried to pick a quarrel. But he had to retire discomfited.
The landlady then invited us to their kitchen fire, for which we were very grateful. As soon as we got nice and comfortable, she also commenced ‘pumping’ operations, but the ‘pump’ wasn’t working. Shortly after this we retired, and I assure you we were on the way to the station in the early hour on Sunday morning. Thus ended our first ‘goblin hunt.’ – Yours sincerely, ARTHUR ARUNDALE.”
At the end of the above interesting experiences, the editor of “The Two Worlds” has the following footnote:- By the foregoing clear, simple narrative of events, it will be seen that the house has indeed been the venue of spirit-force of a very material kind. The worst part of the matter is the medieval superstition of the inhabitants, which, combined with an intolerance which would have well suited a fourteenth century peasantry, render the life of Mrs Johnson a misery.
Ranked as mad for her clairvoyant powers, and as a dangerous and wicked woman because of spiritual manifestation beyond her control, he lot in the little village is such as must demand the sympathy of all Spiritualists.
And all this is happening within a few hundred yards of a church. Where is the vicar? We saw in the last communication that the local preacher ran away. But where is the licensed man of God in such a crisis? The attitude of his gentle lambs seems to show that his labours have been in vain, and that the religion he preaches has had no effect upon the ignorance and brutality of his parishioners.
Derbyshire Times and Chesterfield Herald, 23rd February 1901.
The Youlgreave “Ghost.”
A local version of the story.
A resident says: “It is nothing but rats.”
The Youlgreave “Ghost” has become a very important personage, and no longer is he allowed to hide his light under the bushel of village life, the impressions of the roving spiritualists which have been given to the world, have endowed him with a greater fame. Unfortunately thhe local residents do not treat the “revelations” of the Spiritualists with the awe and reverence that such a serious subject demands – if we invest it with the same supernatural importance as they do – and one well known Youlgreave personage has been irreverent enough to scornfully attribute the spirit rappings and other spiritualistic movements to – rats! The following letter on the subject is interesting: –
To the Editor.
Sir, The Youlgreave “ghost” would most assuredly have died an easy and natural death had it been graciously allowed to do so! Like its ancester, the King of Denmark, however, it was not permitted to rest in peace, and, in this instance, it is the Press that must be praised for keeping it alive by a process of what we may call “artificial respiration”! A London paper, indeed, has given this gentleman spirit a dignity that if it could only speak, I feel sure it would modestly decline to uphold. The account in “The Two Worlds” is certainly “fearfully and wonderfully made,” and the writer ought to be congratulated on his ingenuity. The illustrious immaterial visitor, however, could not have left him his car, or, if he did so, it must have been a wrong one, as the description of the ghost in question, that has been given, does not tally with that of the late Mr Goodwin in any single respect! As we all knew him his face was round and stout, and certainly not “rather a long one;” his complexion was distinctly sallow, not even “a slight colour in his cheeks,” and his hair was not “straight, long, grey hair, brushed flat to the head,” but dark hair, conspicuously dark for his age, with silver streaks just here and there, and to me it appeared of the rough and tumble sort, rather than being “brushed flat to the head”! Mr Evans himself told me, with a smile, that he “had never seen anything, and if there was anything it was nothing but rats!”
Mrs Johnson very courteously told me that she had seen something, but she also told me (and I am sure she would be willing to tell any other person who would ask her) that in a previous house in which she had lived she had also seen something there. The cottage in question therefore, can in no way be stigmatised.
Mrs Botham, who formerly lived in Mrs Johnson’s cottage for nine years, has told me that she never saw anything the whole time she was there, but that she both heard and killed several rats!
The Editor of “The Two Worlds” ranks us (the inhabitants of Youlgreave) as being tainted with “medieval superstition which would have well suited a Fourteenth Century peasantry”. This is very humorous. Surely, sir, witchcraft and superstition of all kinds savour of that period, and is it not with this very thing that the Editor of “The Two Worlds” has unmistakeably identified himself? Youlgreave may be an old world village and delighted we are that it retains so many primitive associations; but, sir, the credulity of the clairvoyant and the superstitious sentimentalism of the so-called spiritualist do not survive in our village, we are glad to be able to say.
The Youlgreave “ghost” is, as Hamlet says, made of “such stuff as dreams are made of,” and the representative of the late Mr Goodwin, that the correspondent in “The Two Worlds” declares he has seen and which is as absolutely unlike him as an “egg” to a “scorpion” is, we conjecture “a false creation in a heat-oppressed brain”!
The man that suffers most in this absurd affair is the owner of the two cottages. It is quite a question, I should say, whether such an offence as photographing a dwelling-place and inspecting it for “goblins” without the permission of the owner is not “actionable” as it naturally brings a certain discredit on the property for a certain time, thus making it doubtful of being re-let when the present term expires. This however, has to do with the owner of the property and his solicitor, though it is not the least detrimental result of the spiritualists’ “first,” and I think I may say “last” visit to Youlgreave.
I am, dear sir, yours faithfully, T. WILSON PARRY. The Turret House, Youlgreave.
Derbyshire Times and Chesterfield Herald, 2nd March 1901.
The Youlgreave “ghost” has, there is little doubt, been effectually laid by Dr Parry’s letter in last week’s Derbyshire Times, which as a welcome antidote to the undeserved slander heaped upon the worthy villagers by the interfering visitor from “The Two Worlds,” was highly appreciated by the residents, who I am sorry to hear, very wrongly identified The Derbyshire Times with the extracts it published from its spiritualistic contemporary. I hope the people of Youlgreave will accept this repudiation of any sympathy between The Derbyshire Times and the writer of the statements which they have very naturally resented.
Derbyshire Times and Chesterfield Herald, 9th March 1901.